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4^^. 
 
BOOK OF MARTYRS; 
 
 OR, 
 
 A HISTORY 
 
 \i3i 
 
 LIVES, SUFFERINGS, ^^ '^ 
 
 AND TRIUMPHANT DEATHS, 
 
 • PRIMITIVE AS WELL AS PROTESTANT 
 
 MARTYRS: 
 
 FROM THE COMMENCEMENT OP CHRISTIANITY, 
 
 TO THE 
 
 LATEST PERIODS OF PAGAN AND POPISH PERSECUTION. 
 
 TO WHICH IS ADDED, 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF THE INQUISITION, THE BARTHOLOMEW MASSACRE, 
 IN FRANCE, THE GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER LOUIS XIV, THE 
 MASSACRE IN THE 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. viL 18. 
 ORIGINALLY COMPOSED BY THE 
 
 REV. JOHN FOX, M. A. ^3?^^ 
 
 AND NOW IMPROVED BY IMPORTANT ALTERATIONS AND ADDITIONS, BY 
 
 REV. CHARLES A. GOODRICH. 
 
 EMBELISHED WITH NUMEROUS ENORATINOS. 
 
 MIDDLETOWN: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY EDWIN HUNT. 
 
 1832. 
 
District of Connecticut, S3. 
 
 BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the 6th day of March, in the 54th year of the IndejKn- 
 ienceof the United States of America, D. F. Robinson & Co. of the said District, have deposited 
 in this office the title of a book, the riglit whereof they claim as proprietors, in the words following, 
 to wit: 
 
 "Book of Martyrs, or a History of the Lives, Sufferings, and Triumphant Deaths of the Primi- 
 tive as well as Protestant Martyrs, from the commencement of Christianity, to the latest periods ol 
 Pagan and Popish Persecution : to which is added, an Account of the Inquisition, the Bartholomew 
 massacre in France, the general persecution under Louis XIV., the massacre in the Irish Rebellion, 
 in the year 1651, and the recent persecutions of the Protestants in the south of France. 'Do men 
 
 father grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles V — Matt. vii. 18. Originally composed by the Rev. John 
 "ox, M. A. And now improved by important alterations and udditions, by Rev. Charles A. Good- 
 rich. Embellished with numerous engravings.' 
 
 In conformity to the act of Congi-ess of the United States, entitled "An act for the encourage 
 ment of learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the authors emd pro 
 prietors of such copies,, during the times tlierein mentioned." And also to the act, entitled, "An act, 
 supplementary to an act, entitled, an act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies 
 of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein 
 mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching his- 
 torical and other prints." 
 
 CHARLES A. INGERSOLL, 
 
 Clerk of the District of Connecticut. 
 A true copy of record, examined and sealed by me, 
 
 CHARLES A. INGERSOLL, 
 
 Clerk of the District ^ ConneetteuU 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The basis of the following work is a volume published in Lon- 
 don, as late as the year 1824. Being too extensive for general 
 use, the Editor has attempted such an abridgment, as, in his 
 'udgment, would adapt it to a more general circulation. He has 
 aimed to execute the work with fidelity, and to present such a vo- 
 lume to the pubUc, as the true history of the times would justify. 
 He has prefixed an introduction, designed to show to the reader, 
 that the principles of the gospel do not justify persecution, in any 
 form or manner whatever ; and, which may serve at the same time, 
 to display some of the causes which have led pagans and papists to 
 evince a bitter hostihty to the true friends of Christianity. 
 
 No- apology, it is thought, wiU be deemed necessary, for bringing 
 forward such a work, at this time. The present depressed state of 
 Popery, both in England and on the continent, is no proof that its 
 leading principles have been abandoned. By means of various re- 
 volutions, its power has been shaken, and, from motives of pohcy, 
 it has been compelled to cease from blood ; but, in the language of 
 a distinguished divine of our own country, "Not a prmciple of the 
 system has been abandoned. All the wiles of ages are put in requi- 
 sition now, to heal the fatal wounds, which the beast has received, 
 and to render the system still more powerful and terrific."* 
 
 To the American people, this subject presents itself with peculiar 
 interest. Within a short period, the attention of the Pope of Rome 
 has been directed to North America, and systematic efforts are now 
 making, under his immediate patronage, and at his expense, to in- 
 troduce and estabUsh this corrupt system, in various parts of our 
 l-and. Already, Catholic Churches are erecting ; Catholic priests 
 and emissaries are arriving by scores : publications, designed to eu- 
 logize and recommend the system, are circulating abroad. 
 
 The question presents itself to the American people : " Shall this 
 system find encouragement in the land of the pilgrims ?" We fear 
 not, indeed, that Popery can ever greatly flourish on the American 
 soil ; but such a root of bitterness, we wish not to see planted here, 
 much, less spreading its branches to even the temporary injury of 
 the Protestant cause. Yet, while the friends of truth should not 
 
 • Dr. Beecher's -Missionary Sermon. 
 
iv PREFACE. 
 
 be needlessly alarmed, neither should they 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 pos- 
 sibility that papal darkness and papal thraldom may overspread 
 even a portion 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 unes- 
 tablished and ignorant, by the professors of popery, and its self-styled 
 " liberal abettors.''^ It is only necessary that the volume should be 
 carefully and candidly read, to convince 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 ex- 
 ist in the land ; but beware of so encouraging them, as to bring the 
 American people under their temporal and spiritual domination. 
 'V. 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 pre- 
 tends to be infallible^ will always seek the destruction of those who 
 dissent from it ; and as a proof that its spirit is unchanged and U7i- 
 changeable, we may refer to the recent persecutions in the south of 
 France, 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 stUl as intolerant, as when it spread its desolating ravages 
 through the unoffending vallies of Piedmont ; or, at a subsequent 
 period, Mghted up the consuming fires of Smithfield. 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 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 his 
 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 bring 
 them 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 applied himself with more fervency than circumspection, 
 and discovered his partiality 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 
 first 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 divers 
 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 by degrees a 
 dislike to the rest took place. 
 
 His first care w^as 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 efl'ects, solidity, infirmities, &c. 
 
vi LIFE OP THE REV. JOHN POX. _.. 
 
 Before he had attained his thirtieth year, he had studied the Greek 
 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 even 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 
 sfghs, 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 alteration in his conduct, he scorned to call in fiction to b^ 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 him.self aggrieved, that he might now, with 
 more show of juKstice, or at least with more security, Avit?ihold 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 was thus forsaken by his own friends, a refuge offered 
 itself in the hovise 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 Avere not contented to pursue public offences, 
 but began also to dive into the secrets of private families. He now 
 began to consider Avhat 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 
 he 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 coiidition 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 Avould make recompense for his words 
 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 Tov/er, 
 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 dreadftil 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 offers, I will send for him." 
 The duke understood that speech 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 
 Uiing 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 
 
y'£ 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 published 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 the 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, which was in a manner forced upon him ; for it was 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 
 hia work; but their malice was of signal service, both to Mr. Fox 
 
LIFE OP THE REV. JOHN FOX ix 
 
 himself, and to the 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 drew 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. With 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 would 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 folloAving 
 respectable friends 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 of 
 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 Gresham, Sir 
 Thomas Roe, Alderman Bacchus, Mr. Smith, Mr. Dale, Mr. Sher- 
 rington, &LC. «fec. 
 
 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 
 I8th of April, 1587, being then in the seventieth yoar of his age. He 
 was interred in the chancel of St. Giles', Cripplsgate ; of which pa- 
 rish he had been, in the be^nning 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 just 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- 
 
 2 
 
X LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN FOX. 
 
 posely sent his two sons from home, though he loved them with great 
 tenderness ; and, before they returned, his spirit, as he had foreseen 
 would be the case, had flown to heaven. 
 
 His death occasioned great lamentations throughout the city, and 
 his funeral was honoured with a great concourse of people, each of 
 whom appeared to bewail the loss of a father or a brother. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 That the introduction of Christianity into the world, considering; 
 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 of 
 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 down fire 
 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 whosoever 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, univ^ersal 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 
 
xii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 any commands of certain clearness, any precepts of evident obligation 
 in the gospel, they are such as refer to the exercise of love, and the 
 maintenance of universal charity. " Blessed are the meek," 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 imto 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, il, is evident, that there is nothing in the life of Jesus 
 Christ, in his doctrines, or precepts, which gives any counte-nance 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 govei-ning 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 affectioned 
 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 was such, " as worketh no ill toJiis 
 neighhour." In another place, we find the apostle guarding his Chris- 
 tian brethren against divisions on account of diiferent 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 ; 
 and because every one was to give an account of himself to God, to 
 whom alone, as his master, he was to stand or fall. From these sub- 
 stantial reasons, he infers : " We then that are strong," — Ave who 
 have a more comprehensive understanding of the nature of Christiani- 
 ty, and 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 heirs of the same glorious inherit- 
 ance ; but that all, endeavouring to be like minded, one towards 
 another, 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, we find him exhorting la great lowliness and meekness, as an 
 evidence of walking worthy of the Christian vocation, with long sufier- 
 ing, forbearing one another, in love. The contrary vices of bitter- 
 ness, and wrath, 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 as 
 
INTRODUCTION. xiii 
 
 God for Christ's sake hath forgiven us. To these precepts of the 
 apostle Paul, which might be indefinitely extended, we shall only add 
 the amiable description of the wisdom, that is from above, given \y 
 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, Ave 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 where 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 conchict 
 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 
 the 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 1 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 fellow, 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 ? 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 Avas only the mouth of 
 God in declaring it, even of that God Avho 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 Avith him. And, I presume, if God hath a right to punish 
 frauds and cheats in another Avorld, he hath a right to do so in this; 
 especially in the instance before us, Avhich seems to have something 
 very peculiar in it. 
 
 "Peter expressly says to Sapphira: 'HoAvis it that ye have agreed 
 together to tempt the spirit of the Lord ?' "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 Avas 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 knoAV 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 Avith death. 
 
 "As to Elymas, the sorcerer, this instance is as foreign and imperii- 
 
xiv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 nent as the other. Sergius Paulus, proconsul of Cyprus, had enter- 
 tained at Paphos, one Barjesus, a Jew, a sorcerer ; and hearing, also, 
 that 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, who 
 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 
 Christianity, 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. 
 
 " NoAv 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 belie 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 t^e 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 deliver you," 
 says he, " up to councils ; they Avill 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 the 
 gospel, viz. the prevalence of persecution, the result of pride, envy» 
 
 ♦Chandler's History of Persecution; p. 401, et cdibi. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XV 
 
 Ittalice, 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," i&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 these 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 1 
 might glorify God by my sufferings and death ?" For as it follows, 
 " I have a baptism to be baptized with," a baptism with 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 ;" 1. 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 curiosity 
 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 Di 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, vi supra. 
 
xvi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the form, and indeed, with the very essence of its political constitu- 
 tion. For, though the Romans gave an unlimited toleration to all re- 
 ligions, Avhich had nothing in their tenets dangerous to the common- 
 wealth, yet they would 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 Avhich the Christians were charged with, 
 and that justly, though to their honour. They dared to ridicule the 
 absurdities of the Pagan superstition, and they were ardent and assi- 
 duous in gaining proselytes to the truth. Nor did they only attack 
 the religion of Rome, but also all the different shapes and forms, un- 
 der which superstition appeared in the various countries, where they 
 exercised their ministry. From hence the Romans concluded, that 
 the Christian sect was not only insupportably daring and arrogant, 
 but moreover an enemy to the public tranquilHty, and every way pro- 
 per to excite civil wars and commotions in the empire. It is, pro- 
 bably, on this account, that Tacitus reproaches them Avith the odious 
 character oi haters of mankind, and styles the religion of Jesus a de- 
 structive superstition ; and that Suetonius speaks of the Christians 
 and their doctrines in term.s of the same kind. 
 
 " Another circumstance tliat irritated the Romans against the Chris- 
 tians, was the simplicity of their v/orship, Avhich resembled in nothing 
 the sacred rites of any other people. The Christians had neither 
 sacrifices, nor temples, nor images, nor oracles, nor sacerdotal orders : 
 and this was sufficient to bring upon them the reproaches of an ig- 
 norant multitude, who imagined that there could be no religion with- 
 out these. Thus they were looked upon as a sort of atheists ; and 
 by the Roman laws, those who were chargeable with atheism Avere 
 declared the pests of human society. But this was not all ; the sor- 
 did interests of a multitude of lazy and selfish priests, Avere imme- 
 diately connected Avith the ruin and oppression of the Christian cause. 
 The public worship of such an immense number of deities was a source 
 of subsistence, and even of riches, to the Avhole 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 traffic, 
 and the profit it produced, this raised up neAV 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 Avhich run through the Avhole pagan world. Every 
 religion Avas 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 Avere treated by their neighbours, and afterwards 
 by the Greeks 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 Avorld. This pretension to superiority and to exclu- 
 sive diAdne origin, was the ground cause of the general odium cast 
 upon the Jews by the Pagan world. 
 
 ♦ Mosheim, Vol. I. p. 72. 
 
INTRODUCTION. Xvii 
 
 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 was 
 enforced, inclined men long habituated to pretended revelations, to 
 receive it into the nunciber 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 prodigy, which 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 became 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 shaken 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 old 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 centiiries 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. 11. 6, 2. § 6, &c. 
 3 
 
xvjii ' INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Having noticed the persecutions which occurred under the reigA 
 of Paganism, and assigned the causes which led those nations which 
 were Pagan, so jDowerfully to enlist themselves against Christianity, 
 we shall next notice the persecutions which were commenced and 
 carried 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 wei'e not wanting symptoms 
 of the approaching wide 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 
 Avhich 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 wonder, for Satan himself is transformed 
 into an angel of light ; 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 effects which 
 should proceed from false teachers, is very plainly given by the 
 apostle Peter. ' But there were false 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 
 follow their pernicious ways, by reason of whom the way of truth 
 shB.ll 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. 1 — 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- 
 ticularly add the following, as it not only foretels, but describes the 
 nature of the apostacy that should take place, and at a period remote 
 from the time when the predictions were delivered. ' Now the 
 spirit speaketh 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 
 meats, which God hath created to be received with thanksgiving of 
 them 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. xk 
 
 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, despisers 
 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 ; Avho opposeth and 
 . exalteth himself above all that is called God, or that is Avorshipped ; 
 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, Ave may notice the following parti- 
 culars : ..., _ .—- -^■- -— '— , 
 
 " 1 . That the apostle describes its origin as taking place in his 
 ©wn day. ' The mystery of iniquity doth already work,' verse 7. 
 The seed Avas then soAvn ; idolatry was already stealing into the 
 churches. 1 Cor. x. 14. A voluntary humility and Avorshipping of 
 angels. Col. ii. 18. Men of corrupt minds, destitute of the truth, 
 supposing that gain Avas godliness, and teaching things Avhich they 
 ou^ht 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 Avay of deceit and hypocrisy. 
 During the Avhole progress toAvards the full revelation of the man of 
 sin, there Avas no direct disavoAval of the truth of Christianity ; it Avas 
 a form of godliness AAdthout the poAA'er of it. 
 
 " 2. There is an evident intimation in this passage, of an obstacle 
 or hinderance in the Avay of this poAver being fully revealed. ' And 
 noAV ye knoAV Avhat Avithholdeth that he might be revealed in his tim.;. 
 For the mystery of iniquity doth already work, only he Avho noAV 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 Avicked 
 power which is here the subject of tlie apostle's discourse, and denov 
 
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, kn§w 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, that 
 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, 
 Avhich 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 Constantino, 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. 
 WJiat 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 that wicked be revealed ; — • 
 whose coming is after the working of Satan, with all power, and signs. 
 
 \ 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 XXI 
 
 and lying wonders, and with all deceivableness of unrighteousness in 
 them that perish.' He had before described this power, and personi- 
 fied him as ' th« 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.' 
 
 " Every feature in this description corresponds to that of a religiou<^ 
 power, in the assumption of divine authority, divine honours, and di ■ 
 vine worship ; 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, 
 and of which during the apostolic days there were indications of its 
 having begun to work. From the time of Constantino, 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 which the man of 
 sin was 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 Constantino, 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 
 diffe-rent 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 two, the 
 bishop of Rome, at length, succeeded in triumphing over all others, 
 being in the year 606 invested with the proud title of universal bishop. 
 This may be considered as the date of the establishment of the j^apal 
 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. 
 
 * 3ones' History of the Chxistian Churclj, 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 folloAving pages, the reader will find a developement of some 
 of the works of Popish 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 the 
 offspring of, or compatible with, the gospel of Christ Jesus? " B} 
 their fruits," says our Savioiu", " shall we know them." It is no'^ 
 their words, but their works, wc should consider. What quarter of 
 the globe has escaped the ravages of their power ? If we look to the 
 East, China and Japan, Avhere 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 governments. If we 
 look to America, where their power was supreme, we freeze 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 see the vile mysteries of ini- 
 quity discovered at the suppression of the monasteries, and the shame- 
 ful practices exposed, by which the priests deluded the people. I 
 will not recur to other 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 
 Avith 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 thisworld, 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 whole 
 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 tais lesson of humility, arrogantly permit them to kiss their feet. 
 Our blessed Lord claimed not a spot vipon 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 attired, 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- 
 dulgences 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 his power to no man, in the way the Popes claim 
 it, and that he 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. 
 
' Mtt' 
 
FOX'S 
 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 HlStORV 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 
 yeajs. 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- 
 
 4 
 
26 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 brated words recorded by Luke : " Lord, now lettest thou thy 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 well 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 first 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 benevolent 
 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 Avas 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 oi" 
 armed men soon afterwards surrounded him, and Judas kissed him, 
 in order to point him out to the soldiers, Avho 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 v/hich 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 wept 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 
 Mm ; 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, Let his 
 blood be upon us, and our children ; and the governor found himself 
 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 t?ie 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 to 
 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 Ccist 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 Avhen 
 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, with 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 Christ, 
 and such was the mortal end of the Redeemer of mankind. 
 
 THE LIVES, SrFFERINGS, AND MARTYRDOM OP THE APOSTLES, 
 EVANGELISTS, &C 
 
 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 hand; 
 
28 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 of God. This vision so greatly rejoiced him, that he exclaimed, In 
 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 of 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 became 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, suffered 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 
 in Upper Asia, laboured very diligently in his apostleship. He then 
 travelled into Phrygia, and arriving at Heliopolis, found the inhabits 
 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 pnfiering the same fate. His martyrdom happened eight years 
 after 1 fiat of James the Great, A. D. 52. 
 
 IV. Matthew, 
 
 The evangelist, apostle, and martyr, was born at Nazareth, in Gali- 
 lee, Imt resided chiefly at Capernaum, on account of his business 
 which was that of a toll-gatherer, to collect tribute of such as had off 
 
THE APOSTLES, &c. 29 
 
 casion to pass the sea of Galilee. On being called as a disciple, 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 leave 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 complied 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 Avhatever, to suppress a dangerous 
 error then propagating, viz. " That a faith in Christ was alone suf- 
 ficient for salvation, without good works." The Jews, being at this 
 time greatly enraged that Paul had escaped their fury, by appealing 
 to Rome, determined to wreak their vengeance on James, Avho 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 the glory of the cross, had he 
 
80 BOOK OP MARTYRS, 
 
 feared to die on it. And again, when they came to crucify 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 dea'ch might be 
 more slow. In this situation he continued two days, preaching the 
 greatest part of the timp 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 employmeiit 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,, 
 however, was at his own request. 
 
 X. Paid, 
 
 The apostle and martyr, was a Jew of the tribe of Benjamin, born at 
 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 Steplien. While on his way to 
 Damascus, the glory of the Lord came suddenly upon him, he was 
 struck to the earth, and was afilicted Avith 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 faith Sergius Paulus, the proconsul of Cy- 
 prus, on which he took his name, and as some suppose, was from . 
 thence called Paulus instead of Saulus. After his many labours he 
 took to him Barnabas, and went up to Jerusalem, to Peter, James, 
 
THE APOSTLES, &<;. 31 
 
 and John, where he was ordained, and sent out Avith Barnabas to 
 preach to the Gentiles. At Iconium, Paul and Barnabas were near 
 being stoned to death by the enraged Jews ; upon which they fled to 
 Lycaonia. At Lystra, Paul was stoned, dragged out of the city, and 
 left for dead. He, however, happily reAdved, and escaped to Derbe. 
 At Philippi, Paul and Silas were imprisoned and whipped ; and both 
 were again persecuted at Thessalonica. Being afterwards taken at 
 Jerusalero, he was sent to Csesarea, but appealed to Caesar 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 tke people 
 in 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, Avhere, thougfe.he made 
 many converts, he was crucified, A. D. 74. 
 
 XVI. John, 
 
 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 Avhom Christ communicated the most secret passages of his 
 life. He founded churches at Smyrna, Pergamus, Sardis, Philadel- 
 phia, Laodicea, and Thyatira, to Avhom 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 Avas condemned to be cast into a 
 cauldron of boiling oil. But here a miracle appeared in his favour ; 
 
32 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 i_ 
 the oil did him no injury, and Domitian, therefore, not being able to 
 put him to death, banished him to Patm«s, 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 eftect. 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 \s 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 thun 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 should be set on fire, 
 which was done by his officers, guards, and servants. While the city 
 was in flames, he v/ent up to the tower of Maecenas, 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 ; when Nero, find- 
 ing that his conduct was greatly blamed, and a severe odium cast 
 upon him, determined to lay the whole 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 vv^ax, fixed 
 to axle-trees, and set on fire in his gardens. This 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. 
 
SECOND PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION. 33 
 
 THE 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 Avas 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 was boiled in oil, and afterwards banished to Pat- 
 mos. Flavia, the daughter of a Roman senator, was 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." 
 
 Duiing this reign, there were 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 spirit ; of be- 
 ing 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, afHicted 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 were, imprison- 
 ment, racking, searing, broiling, burning, scourging, stqning, 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 the 
 privilege of burning their remains. 
 
 The following were the most remarkable of the numerous martyrs 
 who suffered during this persecution. 
 
 Dionysius, the Areopagite, 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 particiilar 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 with great fidelity and acceptance, till Domitian's perse- 
 cuting spirit brought him to the block. 
 
 Timothy, the celebrated disciple of Paul, and bishop of Ephesus, 
 also suffered during this persecution, about the year 97. During the 
 
 5 
 
34 'BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 celebration of a pagan festival, called Catagogion, this holy man, 
 meeting a procession, composed of an idolatrous multitude, severely 
 reproved them, for ridiculous and wicked conduct; upon which, im- 
 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 pious 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 
 d^raud 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 ivitliout any act of eviV 
 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 Avith 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 immediate 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 said, was the person whom, Avhen 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 Avas 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 at last he was despatched by being torn to 
 pieces by wild beasts. 
 
FOURTH PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION. 35 
 
 Symphorosa, a widow, 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, where 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 Avas 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, 
 in 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 laws, 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 command, 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 was 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 sufierings 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 Christians 
 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 sufferers. 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 yoimg 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 repented 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 flames 
 grew vehement, the executioners gave way on both sides, the heat 
 now 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 the most exemplary piety. The empire hav- 
 ing been about this time grievously troubled with earthquakes, famine, 
 inundations, &-c. the Christians were accused as the cause, and Felici- 
 tatas was included in the accusation. The lady and her family being 
 seized, the emperor gave orders to Publius, the Roman governor, to 
 proceed against her. Upon this Publius began with, the mother, 
 thinking that if he could prevail with her to change her religion, the 
 
FOURTH PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION. $7 
 
 example would have great influence with her sons. Finding her in- 
 flexible, he turned his entreaties to menaces, and threatened her with 
 destruction to herself and family. She despised his threats as she had 
 done his promises ; he then caused her sons to be brought before him, 
 whom he examined separately. They all, however, remained stead- 
 fast in their faith, and unanimous in their opinions, on which the 
 whole family were ordered for execution. Januarius, the eldest, was 
 scourged and pressed to death with weights ; Felix and Philip, the 
 two next, had their brains dashed out with clubs ; Sylvanus, the fourth, 
 was murdered by being throAvn from a precipice ; and the three young- 
 er sons, viz. Alexander, Vitalis, and Martialis, were all beheaded. 
 The mother was beheaded with the same sword as the three latter. 
 
 Justin, the celebrated philosopher, fell a martyr in this persecu- 
 tion. He was a native of Neapolis, in Sam.aria, and was born A. D. 
 103. He had the best education those times could aflbrd, and travel- 
 led into Egypt, the country where the polite tour of that age was made 
 for improvement. At Alexandria he was informed of every thing re- 
 lative to the seventy iiiterpreters of the sacred writings, and shewn the 
 rooms, or rather cells, in which their work was performed. Justin 
 was a great lover of truth, and an universal scholar; he investigated 
 the Stoic and Peripatetic philosophy, and attempted the Pythagorean 
 system ; but the behaviour of one of its professors disgusting him, he 
 applied himself to the Platonic, in Avhich he took great delight. About 
 the year 133, when he was thirty years of age, he became a convert 
 to Christianity. Justin wrote an elegant epistle to the Gentiles, to 
 convert them to the faith he had newly acquired, and lived in so pure 
 and innocent a manner, that he well deserved the title of a Christian 
 philosopher. He likewise employed his talents in convincing the 
 Jews of the truth of the Christian rites, and spent much time in .tra- 
 velling, till he took up his abode in Rome, and fixed his habitation on 
 the Viminal mount. He kept a public school, taught many who af- 
 terwards became great men, and wrote a treatise to confute heresies 
 of all kinds. As the pagans began to treat the Christians with great 
 severity, Justin wrote his first apology in their favour, and addressed 
 it to the Emperor Antoninus, to two princes whom he had adopted as 
 his sons, and to the senate and people of Rome in general. This 
 piece, Avhich occasioned the emperor to publish an edict in favour of 
 the Christians, disjDlays great learning and genius. 
 
 A short time after, he entered into frequent contests with Crescens, 
 a person of vicious life, but a celebrated cynic philosopher ; and his 
 arguments appeared so powerful, yet disgusting to the cynic, that he 
 resolved on his destruction, which, in the sequel, he accomplished. 
 The second apology of Justin was occasioned by the following cir- 
 cumstances : a man and his wife, who were both bad livers, resided 
 at Rome. The woman, however, becoming a convert to Christianity, 
 attempted to reclaim her husband ; but not succeeding, she sued for 
 a divorce, which so exasperated him, that he accused her of being a 
 Christian. Ilj^on her petition, however, he dropped the prosecution, 
 and levelled his malice at Ptolemeus, who had converted her. Ptole- 
 meus was condemned to die ; and one Lucius, Avith another person, 
 for expressing themselves too freely upon the occasion, met Avith the 
 same fate. Justin's apology upon these severities gave Crescens an 
 opportunity- of prejudicing the emperor against the writer of it; upon 
 
38 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 which Justin and six of his companions were apprehended. Behig 
 commanded, as usual, to deny their faith, and sacrifice to the pagan 
 idols, they refused to do either ; they were, therefore, condemned tO' 
 be first scourged and then beheaded. 
 
 Some of the restless northern nations h&,ving risen in arms against 
 Rome, the emperor marched to encounter them. He was, however, 
 drawn into an ambuscade, and dreaded the loss of his whole army. 
 Enveloped with mountains, surrounded by enemies, and perishing 
 with thirst, the pagan deities were invoked in vain ; when the men 
 belonging to the militine, or thundering legion, who were all Chris- 
 tians, were commanded to call upon their God for succour. A mira- 
 culous deliverance immediately ensued; a prodigious quantity of rain 
 fell, Avhich, being caught by the men, and filling the dykes, afforded 
 a sudden and astonishing relief. It appears that the storm which 
 miraculously flashed in the faces of the enemy, so intimidated them, 
 that part deserted to the Roman army ; the rest were defeated, and 
 the revolted provinces entirely recovered. 
 
 This affair occasioned the persecution to subside for some time, at 
 least in those parts immediately under the inspection of the emperor ; 
 but we find that it soon after raged in France, particularly at Lyons, 
 where the tortures to which many of the Christians were put, almost 
 exceed the powers of description. 
 
 The principal of these martyrs were Vetius Agathus, a young man ,. 
 Blandinia, a Christian lady, of a weak constitution ; Sanctus, a dea- 
 con of Vienna ; red-hot plates of brass were placed upon the tenderest 
 parts of his body ; Biblius, a weak woman, once an apostate ; Atta- 
 ins, of Pergamus; and Pothinus, the venerable bishop of Lyons, who- 
 Avas ninety years of age. 
 
 When the Christians, upon these occasions, received martyrdom, 
 they were ornamented, and croAvned with garlands of floAvers ; for 
 which they, in heaven, received eternal crowns of glory. 
 
 The torments were various ; and, exckisive of those already men- 
 tioned, the martyrs of Lyons Avere compelled to sit in red-hot iron 
 chairs till their flesh broiled. This Avas inflicted with peculiar seve- 
 rity on Sanctus, already mentioned, and some others. Some Avere 
 sewed up in nets, and throAvn on the horns of Avild bulls ; and the 
 carcasses of those Avho died in prison, previous to the appointed time 
 of execution, Avere throAvn to dogs. Indeed, so far did the malice of 
 the pagans proceed, that they set guards over the bodies while the 
 beasts Avere devouring them, lest the friends of the deceased should 
 get them away by stealth ; and the offals left by the ^ogs Avere or- 
 dered to be burnt. 
 
 The martyrs of Lyons, according to the best accounts we could ob- 
 tain, Avho suffered for the gospel, Avere forty- eight in number, and their 
 executions happened in the year of Christ 177. 
 
 Epipodius and Alexander Avere celebrated for their great friendship, 
 and their Christian union Avith each other. The first Avas born at 
 Lyons, the latter at Greece. Epipodius, being compassionated by 
 • the goA^ernor of Lyons, and exhorted to join in their festiA^e pagan 
 Avorship, replied, " Your pretended tenderness is actually cruelty ; 
 and the agreeable life you describe is replete Avith everlasting death. 
 Christ suffered for us, that our pleasures should be immortal, and hath 
 prepared for his followers an eternity of bliss. The frame of man be 
 
FIFTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 89 
 
 ing composed of two parts, body and soul, tlie first, as mean and pe- 
 rishable, should be rendered subservient to the interests of the last. 
 Your idolatrous feasts may gratify the mortal, but they injure the im- 
 mortal part ; that cannot therefore be enjoying life which destroys 
 the most valuable moiety of your frame. Your pleasures lead to eter- 
 nal death, and our pains to perpetual happiness." Epipodius was se- 
 verely beaten, and then put to the rack, upon which being stretched, 
 his flesh was torn v/ith iron hooks. Having borne his torments with 
 incredible patience and unshaken fortitude, he was taken from the 
 rack, and beheaded. 
 
 Valerian and Marcellus, who were nearly related to each other, 
 were imprisoned at Lyons, in the year 177, for being Christians. 
 The father was fixed up to the waist in the ground ; in which posi- 
 tion, after remaining three days, he expired, A. D. 179. Valerian 
 was beheaded. , 
 
 Apollonius, a Roman senator, an accomplished gentleman, and a 
 sincere Christian, suffiered under Commodus, because he would not 
 worship him as Hercules. 
 
 Eusebius,Vincentius, Potentianus, Peregrinus, and Julius, a Roman 
 senator, were martyred on the same account. 
 
 THE FIFTH GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS. 
 
 The Emperor Commodus, who had succeeded his father Antoninus 
 in 180, dying in the year 191, was succeeded by Pertinax, and he by 
 Julianus, both of whom reigned but a short time. On the death of 
 the last, Severus became emperor in the year 192. When he had 
 been recovered from a severe fit of sickness by a Christian, he be- 
 came a great favourer of Christians in general ; and even permitted 
 his son Caracalla to be nursed by a female of that persuasion. 
 Hence, during the reigns of the emperors already mentioned, who 
 successively succeeded Commodus, and some years of the latter's 
 reign, the Christians had a respite for several years from persecution. 
 But the i^rejudice and fury of the ignorant multitude again prevailed, 
 and the obsolete laws were put in execution against the Christians. 
 The pagans were alarmed at the progress of Christianity, and revived 
 the calumny of placing accidental misfortunes to the account of its 
 professors. Fire, sword, wild beasts, and imprisonments, v/ere re- 
 sorted to ; and even the dead bodies of Christians were torn from 
 their graves, and subjected to every insult; yet the gospel withstood 
 the attacks of its boisterous enemies. Tertullian, who lived in this 
 age, informs us, that if the Christians had collectively withdrawn 
 themselves from the Roman territories, the empire would have been 
 greatly depopulated. 
 
 Victor, bishop of Rome, suffered martyrdom in the first year of 
 the third century, viz. A. D. 201, though the circumstances are not 
 ascertained. 
 
 Leonidas, the father of the celebrated Origen, was beheaded for 
 being a Christian. Previous to the execution, the son, in order to 
 encourage him, wrote to him in these remarkable words : " Beware, 
 
40 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 Sir, that your care for us does not make you change youf resolution**' 
 Many of Origen's hearers likewise suffered martyrdom. 
 
 Among those who suffered during this persecution was also the 
 venerable Irenaeus, bishop of Lyons, who was born in Greece, and 
 received a Christian education. It is generally supposed that the ac- 
 count of the persecutions at Lyons was written by himself. He suc- 
 ceeded the martyr Pothynus as bishop of Lyons, and ruled his diocese 
 with great propriety ; he was a zealous opposer of heresies in gene- 
 ral, and wrote a celebrated tract against heresy about A. D. 187. 
 
 Victor, the bishop of Rome, wanting to impose a particular mode 
 of keeping Easter there, it occasioned some disorders among the 
 Christians. In particular, Irenaeus wrote him a synodical epistle in 
 the name of the Gallic churches. This zeal in favour of Christianity, 
 pointed him out as an object of resentment to the emperor ; and he 
 was accordingly beheaded in A. D. 203. 
 
 Persecutions in Africa. 
 
 The persecutions about this time extended to Africa, and many 
 were martyred in that part of the globe ; but we must content our- 
 selves with giving a particular account only of Perpetua, a married 
 lady of about twenty-six years of age, with a young child at her breast ; 
 she was seized for being a Christian. Her father, Avho tenderly loved 
 her, went to console her during her confinement, and attempted to 
 persuade her to renounce Christianity. Perpetua, however, resisted 
 every entreaty. This resolution so much incensed her father, that 
 he beat her severely, and did not visit her for some days after ; and, 
 in the mean time, she, and some others who were confined, were 
 baptized, as they were before only catechumens. 
 
 On being carried before the pro-consul Minutius, she was command- 
 ed to sacrifice to the idols ; but refusing, she was ordered to a dark 
 dungeon, and was deprived of her child. Two deacons, however, 
 Tertius and Pomponious, who had the care of persecuted Christians, 
 allowed her seme hours daily to inhale the fresh air, during which 
 time she had the satisfaction of being allowed to nurse her child. 
 Foreseeing, however, that she should not long be permitted to take 
 care of it, she recommended it strongly to her mother's attention. Her 
 father at length paid her a second visit, and again entreated her to 
 renounce Christianity. His behaviour was now all tenderness and 
 humanity; but inflexible to all things but Christ, she knew she must 
 leave every thing for his sake ; and she only said to him, " God's will 
 must be done." He then, with an almost bursting heart, left her. 
 
 Perpetua gave the strongest proof of fortitude and strength of mind 
 on her trial. Her judge entreated her to consider her father's tears, her 
 infant's helplessness, and her own life ; but triumphing over the softer 
 sentiments of nature, she forgot the ideas of both mental and corporeal 
 pain, and determined to sacrifice all the feelings of human sensibility, 
 to that immortality offered by Christ. In vain did they attempt to per- 
 suade her that their offers were gentle, and her own religion otherwise. 
 Aware that she must die, her father's parental tenderness returned, 
 and in his anxiety he attempted to carry her off, on which he received 
 a severe blow from one of the officers. Irritated at this, the daughter 
 imniediately declared, that she felt that blow more severely than if she 
 had received it herself. Being conducted back to prison, she awaited 
 
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SIXTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. - 41 
 
 hei" execution Avith several other persons, who were to be executed at 
 the same time ; one of these, Felicitas, a married Christian lady, was 
 big with child at the time of her trial. The procurator, when he ex- 
 amined her, entreated her to have pity upon herself and her condition ; 
 but she replied, that his compassion was useless, for no thought of 
 self-preservation could induce her to submit to any idolatrous pro- 
 position. She was delivered in prison af a girl, which was adopted 
 by a Christian woman as her own. 
 
 Revocatus was a catechumen of Carthage, and a slave. The 
 names of the other prisoners, who were to suffer upon this occasion, 
 were Satur, Saturnius, and Secundulus, When the day of execution 
 arrived, they were led to the amphitheatre. Satur, Saturnius, and 
 Revocatus, having the fortitude to denounce God's judgments upon 
 their persecutors, were ordered to run the gauntelope between the 
 hunters, or such as had the care of the wild beasts. The hunters 
 being drawn up in two ranks, they ran between, and as they passed 
 were severely lashed. Felicitas and Perpetua were stripped, in order 
 to be thrown to a mad bull ; but some of the spectators, through 'de- 
 cency, desired that they might be permitted to put on their clothes, 
 which request was granted. The bull made his first attack upon Per- 
 petua, and stunned her : he then attacked Felicitas, and wounded her 
 much ; but not killing them, the executioner did that office with a 
 sword. Revocatus and Satur were destroyed by wild beasts ; Satur- 
 nius was beheaded ; and Secundulus died in prison. These execu- 
 tions took place on the 8th of March, A. D. 205 
 
 THE SIXTH GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS. 
 
 The sixth general persecution occui'red under Maximinus, the son 
 of a herdsman of Thrace, who by moans of thearmy was madeemperor 
 A. D. 235. In Cappadocia, the president Semiramus made great ef- 
 forts to exterminate the Christians from that kingdom. A Roman 
 soldier who refused to wear a laurel crown bestowed on him by the 
 emperor, and confessed himself a Christian, was scourged, imprison- 
 ed, and put to death. Pontianus, bishop of Rome, for preaching 
 against idolatry, was banished to Sardina, and there destroyed. An- 
 teros, a Grecian, who succeeded this bishop in the see of Rome, gave 
 so much offence to the government by collecting the acts of the mar- 
 tyrs, that after having held his dignity only forty days, he suffered 
 martyrdom himself. Pammachius, a Roman senator, with his family, 
 and other Christians to the number of forty-two, were, on account of 
 their religion, all beheaded in one day, and their heads set up on the 
 city gates. Simplicius, another senator, suffered mertyrdom in a simi- 
 lar way. Calepodius, a Christian minister, after being inhumanly 
 treated, and barbarously dragged about the streets, was thrown into 
 the river Tiber with a mill-stone fastened about his neck. Quiritus, 
 a Roman nobleman, with his family and domestics, were, on account 
 of their Christian principles, put to most excruciating tortures, and 
 painful deaths. Martina, a noble and beautiful virgin, suffered mar- 
 tyrdom, being variously tortured, and afterwards beheaded ; and 
 
 6 
 
43 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Hippolituri, a Christian prelate, was tied to a wild horse, and dragged 
 through fields, stony places, bushes, «fec. till he died. 
 
 While this persecution continued, numerous Christians were slain 
 without trial, and buried indiscriminately in heaps ; sometimes fifty 
 ^or sixty being cast into a pit together. Maximinus died in A. D. 238 ; 
 he was succeeded by Gordian, during whose reign, and that of his 
 successor Philip, the church was free from persecution for the space 
 of more than ten years : but in the year 249, a violent persecution 
 broke out in Alexandria. It is, however, worthy of remark, that this 
 was done at the instigation of a pagan priest, without the emperor's 
 privity. At this time the fury of the people being great among the 
 Christians, the mob broke open their houses, carried away the best of 
 their property, destroyed the rest, and murdered the OAvners ; the 
 universal cry being, " Burn them, burn them ! kill them, kill them !" 
 The names of the martyrs have not been recorded, with the excep- 
 tion of the three following : Metrus, an aged and venerable Christian, 
 who refusing to blaspheme his Saviour, was beaten with clubs, pricked 
 with sharp reeds, and at length stoned to death. Quinta, a Christian 
 women, being carried to the temple, and refusing to worship the idols 
 there, was dragged by her feet over sharp flint stones, scourged with 
 whips, and at last dispatched in the same manner as Metrus. And 
 Appolonia, an ancient maiden lady, confessing herself a Christian, 
 the mob dashed out her teeth with their fists, and threatened to burn 
 her alive. A fire was accordingly prepared for the purpose, and she 
 fastened to a stake; but requesting to be unloosed, it was granted, on 
 a supposition that she meant to recant, when, to their astonishment, 
 she immediately threw herself into the flames, and was consumed. 
 
 THE SEVENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS. 
 
 In the year 249, Decius being emperor of Rome, a dreadful perse- 
 cution was began against the Christians. This was occasioned partly 
 by the hatred he bore to his predecessor Philip, Avho was deemed a 
 Christian, and partly to his jealousy concerning the amazing increase 
 of Christianity ; for the heathen temples were almost forsaken, and 
 the Christian churches crowded with proselytes. Decius, provoked 
 at this, attempted, as it were, to extirpate the name of Christian ; and, 
 unfortunately for the cause of the gospel, many errors had, about this 
 time, crept into the church ; the Christians were at variance with each 
 other; and a variety of contentions ensued amongst them. The 
 heathens, in general, were ambitious to enforce the imperial decrees 
 upon this occasion, and looked upon the murder of a Christian as a 
 merit to themselves. The martyrs were, therefore, innumerable. 
 
 Martyrdom of Fabian, and others. 
 
 Fabian, bishop of Rome, was the first.person of eminence who felt 
 the severity of this persecution. The deceased emperor, Philip, 
 had, on account of his integrity, committed his treasure to the care of 
 this good man ; but Decius, not finding as much as his avarice made 
 him expect, determined to wreak his vengeance on the good prelate. 
 
SEVENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 43 
 
 He was accordingly seized; and on the 20th of January, A. D. 350, 
 suffered martyrdom, by decapitation. 
 
 Julian, a native of Cilicia, as we are informed by St. Chrysostom, 
 was seized upon for being a Christian. He was frequently tortured, 
 but still remained inflexible ; and though often brought from prison 
 for execution, was again remanded, to suffer greater cruelties. He, 
 at length, was obliged to travel for twelve months together, from 
 town to town, in order to be exposed to the insults of the populace. 
 When all endeavours to make him recant his religion were found 
 ineffectual, he was brought before his judge, stripped, and whipped 
 in a dreadful manner. He was then put into a leather bag, together 
 with a number of serpents, scorpions, &c. and in that condition thrown 
 into the sea. 
 
 Peter, a young man, amiable for the superior qualities of his body 
 and mind, was apprehended as a Christian, at Lampsacus, and carried 
 before Optimus, pro-consul of Asia. On being commanded to sacri- 
 fice to Venus, he said, " I am astonished that you should wish me to 
 sacrifice to an infamous woman, Avhose debauches even your own his- 
 torians record, and whose life consisted of such actions as your laws 
 would punish. No ! I shall offer to the true God the sacrifice of 
 prayers and praise." 
 
 Optimus, on hearing this, ordered him to be stretched upon awheel, 
 by which all his bones were broken in a shocking manner ; but his 
 torments only inspired him with fresh courage ; he smiled on his per- 
 secutors, and seemed, by the serenity of his covmtenance, not to up- 
 braid, but to applaud his tormentors. At length the pro-consul com- 
 manded him to be beheaded ; which was immediately executed. 
 
 Denisa, a young woman only sixteen years of age, Avho beheld this 
 terrible judgment, suddenly exclaimed, " O, unhappy wretch, why 
 would you buy a moment's ease, at the expense of a miserable eter- 
 nity ?" Optimus hearing this, called to her, and asked if she was a 
 Christian? She replied in the affirmative; and refused to sacrifice 
 to the idols. Optimus, enraged at her resolution, gave her over to 
 two libertines, who took her to their home, and made many attempts 
 upon her chastity, but without effect. At midnight, however, they 
 were deterred from their design by a frightful vision, which so amazed 
 them, that they fell at the feet of Denisa, and implored her prayers, 
 that they might not feel the effects of divine vengeance for their bru- 
 tality. But this event did not diminish the cruelty of Optimus ; for 
 the lady was beheaded soon after by his order. 
 
 Trypho and Respicius, two eminent men, were seized as Christians, 
 and imprisoned at Nice. They were soon after put to the rack, which 
 they bore with admirable patience for three hours, and uttered the 
 praises of the Almighty the whole time. They Avere then exposed 
 naked in the open air, which benumbed all their limbs. When re- 
 manded to prison, they remained there for a considerable time ; and 
 then the cruelties of their persecutors were again evinced. Their 
 feet were pierced with nails ; they were dragged through the streets, 
 scourged, torn with iron hooks, scorched with lighted torches, and 
 at length beheaded, on the 1st of February, A. D. 251. 
 
 Agatha, a Cicilian lady, was remarkable for her beauty and endow- 
 ments ; her beauty was indeed so great, that Quintain, governor of 
 Sicily, became enamoured of her, and made many attempts upon her 
 
44 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 virtue. The governor being known as a great libertine, and a bigot- 
 ted pagan, the lady thought proper to withdraw from the town, but 
 was discovered in her retreat, apprehended, and brought to Catana ; 
 when, finding herself in the power of an enemy, both to her soul and 
 body, she recommended herself to the protection of the Almighty, and 
 prayed for death. -In order to gratify his passion with the greater 
 conveniency, the governor transferred the virtuous lady to Aphrodica, 
 an infamous and licentious woman, who tried every artifice to win 
 her to the desired prostitution ; but all her efforts were in vain. 
 When Aphrodica acquainted Quintain with the inefficacy of her en- 
 deavours, he changed his desire into resentment ; and on her con- 
 fessing that she was a Christian, he determined to gratify his revenge. 
 He, therefore, ordered her to be scourged, burnt with red hot irons, 
 and torn with sharp hooks. Having borne these torments with admi- 
 rable fortitude, she was next laid naked upon live coals, intermingled 
 with glass, and being carried back to prison, she there expired on the 
 5th of February, A. D. 251. 
 
 Martyrdom of Cyril. 
 Cyx'il, bishop of Gortyna, was seized by order of Lucius, the go- 
 vernor of that place, who first exhorted him to obey the imperial man- 
 date, perform the sacrifices, and save his venerable person from de- 
 struction ; for he was then eighty-four years of age. The good pre- 
 late replied, that he could not agree to any such requisitions ; but as 
 he had long taught others to save their souls, that now he should 
 only think of his own salvation. When the governor found all -his 
 persuasion in vain, he pronounced sentence against the venerable 
 Christian, in these words : " I order that Cyril, Avho has lost his 
 senses, and is a declared enemy of our gods, shall be burnt alive." 
 The good worthy prelate heard this seiitence without emotion, walk- 
 ed cheerfully to the place of execution, and imderwent marty-rdom 
 with great resolution. 
 
 Persecutions in Crete. 
 
 At the island of Crete, the persecution raged with fury ; for the go- 
 vernor being exceedingly active in executing the imperial decrees, 
 that place streamed with the blood of many Christians. The princi- 
 pal Cretan martyrs, whose names have been transmitted to us, are as 
 follow : Theodulus, Saturnius, and Europus, were inhabitants of Gor- 
 tyna, who had been grounded in their faith by Cyril, bishop of that 
 city ; and Eunicianus, Zeticus, Cleomenes, Agathopas, Bastides, and 
 Euaristus, were brought from difterent parts of the island on accusa- 
 tions of professing Christianity. 
 
 At the time of their trial, they were commanded to sacrifice to Ju- 
 piter, which declining, the judge threatened them with the severest tor- 
 tures. To these menaces they unanimously answered, " That to suf- 
 fer for the sake of the Supreme Being, would to them be the sublimest 
 of pleasures." The judge then attempted to gain their veneration for 
 the heathen deities, by descanting on their merits, and recounting some 
 of their mythological histories. This gave the prisoners an opportu- 
 nity of remarking on the absurdity of such fictions, and of pointing out,, 
 the folly of paying adoration to ideal deities, and real images. Pro- 
 voked to hear his favourite idols ridiculed, the governor ordered them 
 all to be put to the rack ; the tortures of which they sustained with sixr- 
 
SEVENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 4.5 
 
 prising fortitude. They at length suffered martyrdom, A. D. 251 ; be- 
 ing all beheaded at the same time. 
 
 Martyrdom of Babylas, bishop of Antioch, and others. 
 
 Babylas, a Christian of liberal education, became bishop of Anti- 
 och, in A. D. 237, on the demise of Zebinus. He governed the church 
 during those tempestuous times with adm.irable zeal and prudence. 
 The first misfortune that happened to Antioch, during his mission, was 
 the siege of it by Sapor, king of Persia; who, having overrun all Sy- 
 ria, took and plundered this city among others, and used the Christian 
 inhabitants with greater severity than the rest. His cruelties, however, 
 were not lasting, for Gordian, the emperor, appearing at the head of 
 a powerful army, Antioch was retaken, the Persians driven entirely 
 out of Syria, pursued into their own country, and several places in the 
 Persian territories fell into the hands of the emperor. On Gordian's 
 death, in the I'cign of Deciup, that emperor came to Antioch, where, 
 having a desire to visit an assembly of Christians, Babylas opposed 
 him, and refused to let him come in. The emperor dissembled his 
 anger at that time ; but soon sending for the bishop, he sharply re- 
 proved him for his insolence, and then ordered him to sacrifice to the 
 pagan deities as an expiation for his supposed crime. Having refused 
 this, he was committed to prison, loaded with chains, treated with great 
 severities, and then beheaded, together with three young men who had 
 been his pupils. On going to the place of execution, the bishop ex- 
 claimed, "Behold me and the children that the Lord hath given me." 
 They were martyred, A. D. 251, and the chains worn by the bishop in 
 prison were buried with him. 
 
 The Emperor Decius having erected a pagan temple at Ephesus, in 
 the year 251, he commanded all Avho Avere in that city to sacrifice to 
 the idols. This order was nobly refused by seven of his own soldiers, 
 viz. Maximianus, Martianus, Joannes, Malches, Dionysius, Constanti- 
 nus, and Seraion. The emperor, wishing to prevail on the soldiers to 
 f)revent their fate by his entreaties and lenity, gave them a respite till 
 he returned from a journey. But in the absence of the emperor, they 
 escaped, and hid themselves in a cavern; which he being inform.ed of 
 at his return, the mouth of the cavern was closed up, and they were 
 all starved to death. 
 
 Theodora, a beautiful young lady of Antioch, on refusing to sacri- 
 fice to the Roman idols, was condemned to the brothel, that her virtue 
 might be sacrificed. Didymus, a Christian, then disguised himself in 
 the habit of a Roman soldiei', went to the house, informed Theodora 
 who he was, and prevailed on her to make her escape in his dress. 
 Thus being found in the brothel, instead of the lady, he was taken be- 
 fore the president, to whom confessing the truth, sentence of death 
 was immediately pronounced against him. In the mean tim?, Theo- 
 dora, hearing that her deliverer was likely to suffer, came to the ju<lge, 
 threw herself at his feet, and begged that the sentence might fall only 
 on her, as the guilty person; but the inflexible judge condemned both ; 
 and they Avere executed accordingly, being first beheaded, and their 
 bodies afterwan's burnt. 
 
 Account of Origen. 
 Origen, the celebrated presbyter and catechist of Alexandria, at 
 the age of sixty-four, was seized, thrown into a lopthsome prison, load- 
 
4G BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 ed with chains, his feet placed in the stocks, and his legs extended to 
 the utmost for several days. He was threatened with fire, and tor- 
 mented by every means that the most infernal imagination could sug- 
 gest. But his Christian fortitude bore him through all; indeed, such 
 was the rigour of his judge, that his tortures were ordered to be lin- 
 gering, that death might not too soon put a period to his miseries. 
 During this cruel temporising, the Emperor Decius died, and Gallus, 
 who succeeded him, engaging in a war with the Goths, tlie Christians 
 met with a respite. In this interim, Origen obtained his enlargement, 
 and retiring to Tyre, remained there till his death, which happened 
 when he was in the sixty-ninth year of his age. 
 
 THE EIGHTH GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS. 
 
 After the death of Gallus, ^milian, the general, having many ene- 
 mies in the ariny, was slain, and Valerian was elected to the empire. 
 This emperor, for the space of four years, governed with moderation, 
 and treated the Christians with peculiar lenity and respect ; but in 
 the year 257, an Egyptian magician, named Macrianus, gained a great 
 ascendancy over him, and persuaded him to persecute them. Edicts 
 were accordingly published, and the persecution, which began in the 
 month of April, continued for three years and six months. 
 
 The martyrs that fel4 in this persecution were innumerable, and 
 their tortures and deaths as various. The most eminent were the fol- 
 lowing : 
 
 Rufina and Secunda were two beautiful and accomplished ladies, 
 daughters of Asterius, a gentleman of eminence in Rome. Rufina, 
 the elder, was designed in marriage for Armentarius, a young noble- 
 man ; and Secunda, the younger, for Verinus, a person of rank, and 
 immense wealth. These suitors, at the time the persecution commen- 
 ced, were both Christians ; but when danger appeared, to save their 
 fortunes, they renounced their faith. They took great pains to per- 
 suade the ladies to do the same, but failed in their purpose; and as a 
 method of safety, Rufina and Secunda left the kingdom. The lovers, 
 finding themselves disappointed, informed against the ladies, who be- 
 ing apprehended as Christians, were brought before Junius Donatus, 
 governor of Rome. After many remonstrances, and having under- 
 gone several tortures, they sealed their martyrdom with their blood, 
 by being beheaded, in the year 257. 
 
 In the same year, Stephen, bishop of Rome, was beheaded, and 
 about that time Saturnius, bishop of Thoulouse, was attacked and 
 seized by the rabble of that place, for preventing, as they alleged, their 
 oracles from speaking. On refusing to sacrifice to the idols, he was 
 treated with many barbarous indignities, and then fastened by the feet 
 to the tail of a bull. On a certain signal the enraged animal was driven 
 down the steps of the temple, by which the martyr's brains were dash- 
 ed out ; and the small number of Christians in Thoulouse, had not, 
 for some time, courage sufl[icient to carry off" the dead body ; at length 
 two women conveyed it away, and deposited it in a ditch. This mar- 
 tyr was an orthodox and learned primitive Christian, and his doc- 
 trines are held in high estimation. 
 
EIGHTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 47 
 
 Stephen Av.as succeeded by Sextus as bishop of Rome. He is sup- 
 posed to have been a Greek by birth or extraction, and had for some 
 time served in the capacity of a deacon, under Stephen. His great 
 fidelity, singular wisdom, and courage, distinguished him upon many 
 occasions ; and the fortunate conclusion of a controversy with some 
 heretics, is generally ascribed to his prudence. Macrianus, who had 
 the management of the Roman government in the year 258, having 
 procured an order from the Emperor Valerian, to put to death all the 
 Christian clergy in Rome, and the Senate having testified their obe- 
 dience to this mandate, Sextus was one of the first who felt its seve- 
 rity. Cyprian tells us, that he was beheaded August 6, A. D. 258 ; 
 and that six of his deacons suffered with him. 
 
 Martyrdom of St. Laurence. 
 
 Laurentius, generally called St. Laurence, the principal of the dea- 
 cons, who taught and preached under Sextus, followed him to the 
 place of execution ; when Sextus predicted that he should meet him 
 in heaven three days after. Laurentius considering this as a certain 
 indication of his own approaching martyrdom, at his return collected 
 all the Christian poor, and distributed among them the treasures of 
 the church, which had been committed to his care, thinking the mo- 
 ney could not be better disposed of, or less liable to fall into the 
 hands of the heathens. His conduct alarmed ttie persecutors, who 
 seized on him, and commanded him to give an immediate account to 
 the emperor of the church treasures. 
 
 Laurentius promised to satisfy them, but begged a short respite to 
 put things in proper order ; when three days being granted him, he 
 was suffered to depart ; whereupon with great diligence, he collected 
 together a great number of aged, helpless, and impotent poor, and 
 repairing to the magistrate, presenting them to him, saying, " These 
 are the true treasures of the church." 
 
 Provoked at the disappointment, and fancying the matter meant in 
 ridicule, the governor ordered him to be immediately scourged. He 
 was then beaten with iron rods, set upon a wooden horse, and had his 
 limbs dislocated. He endured these tortures with such fortitude and 
 perseverance, that he was ordered to be fastened to a large gridiron, 
 with a slow fire under it, that his death might be the more tedious. 
 But his astonishing constancy during these trials, and his serenity of 
 countenance Avhile under such excruciating torments, gaA'^e the spec- 
 tators so exalted an idea of the dignity and truth of the Christian re- 
 ligion, that many immediately became converts. 
 
 Having lain for some time upon the gridiron, the martyr called out 
 to the emperor, who was present, in a kind of jocose Latin distich, 
 made extempore, which may be translated thus : 
 
 "This side enougli is toasted, 
 
 Then turn me, tyrant, and eat ; 
 And see, whether raw or roasted, 
 
 I am the better meat." 
 
 On this the executioner turned him, and after having lain a consi- 
 derable time longer, he had still strength and spirit enough to triumph 
 over the tyrant, by telling him, with great serenity, that he was roast- 
 ed enough, and only wanted serving up. He then cheerfully lifted 
 
48 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 up his eyes to heaven, and with calmness yielded his spirit to the 
 Almighty. This happened in August IQ, A. D. 258. 
 
 Persecutions in Africa^— Account of Cyprian. 
 
 Fourteen years previous to this period, the persecution raged in 
 Africa with peculiar violence ;«t and many thousands received the 
 crown of martyrdom, among whom the folloAving were the most dis- 
 tinguished characters : 
 
 Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, was an eminent prelate, and a great 
 ornament of the church. His doctrines were orthodox and pure ; his 
 language easy and elegant ; and his manners graceful. He was said 
 to be so perfect a master of rhetoric and logic, and so complete in the 
 practice of elocution, and the principles of philosophy, that he was 
 made professor of those sciences in his native city of Carthage, where 
 he taught with great success. He Avas educated in the principles of 
 Gentilism, and having a considerable fortune, he lived in great splen- 
 dour and pomp. Gorgeous in attire, luxurious in feasting, vain of a 
 numerous retinue, and fond of every kind of fashionable parade, he 
 seemed to fancy that man was born to gratify all his appetites, and 
 created for pleasure only. About the year 246, Coecilius, a Christian 
 minister of Carthage, became the instrument of Cyprian's conversion: 
 on which account, and for the great love that he always afterwards 
 bore for his adviser, he was termed Coecilius Cyprian. 
 
 Before his baptism he studied the scriptures Avith care, and being 
 struck Avith the beauties of the truths they contained, he determined to 
 practice the virtues they recommended. He sold his estate, distribu- 
 ted the money among the poor, dressed himself in plain attire, and 
 commenced a life of austerity and solitude. Soon after his baptism 
 he was made a presbyter; and being greatly admired for his Adrtues 
 and his Avorks, on the death of Donatus, in A. D. 248, he AA'-as almost 
 unanimously elected bishop of Carthage. The care of Cyprian not 
 only extended over Carthage, but to Numidia and Mauritania. In all 
 his transactions he took great care to ask the advice of his clergy, 
 knoAving that unanimity alone could be of service to the church : this 
 being one of his maxims, " That the bishop AA^as in the church, and 
 the church in the bishop ; so that unity can only be preserA^ed by a 
 close connexion betAveen the pastor and his flock." 
 
 In the year 250, he Avas publicly proscribed by the Emperor De- 
 cius, under the appellation of Co3cilius Cyprian, bishop of the Chris- 
 tians ; and the universal cry of the pagans, Avas, " Cyprian to the 
 lions ! Cyprian to the beasts !" 
 
 The bishop, hoAvever, AvithdreAV from the rage of the populace, and 
 his effects were immediately confiscated. During his retirement he 
 Avrote thirty pious letters to his flock ; but several schisms that then 
 crept into the church gave him great uneasiness. The rigour of the 
 persecution abating, he returned, and did every thing in his poAver to 
 expunge erroneous opinions and false doctrines. A terrible plague 
 noAV breaking out at Carthage, it Avas, as usual, laid to the charge of 
 the Christians ; and the magistrates began to persecute accordingly, 
 Avhich occasioned an epistle from them to Cyprian, in answer to Avhich 
 Jie vindicates the cause of Christianity. 
 
 Cyprian AA^as brought before the pro-consul Aspasius Paternus, A. D. 
 257, when being commanded to conform to the religion of the em- 
 
Ignatius given to Lions. Page 34. 
 
 Polycarp Burnt. Page 36. 
 
 Perpetua and Felicitas, Page 40. 
 
TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 49 
 
 pire, he bijldly made a confession of his faith. This, however, did 
 not occasion his death, but an order was made for his banishment, 
 which exiled him to a little city on the Libyan sea. On the death ojf 
 the pro-consul Avho banished him, he returned to Carthage, but was 
 soon after seized, and carried before the new governor, who con- 
 demned him to be beheaded : and on the 14th of September, A. D 
 358, this sentence was execiited. 
 
 Fate of the Emperor Valerian. 
 
 This tyrant, who had so long and so terribly persecuted the Chris- 
 tians, was taken prisoner by Sapores, king of Persia, who carried 
 him into his own country, and there treated him with the most unex- 
 ampled indignity, making him kneel down as the meanest slave, and 
 treading upon him as a footstool when he mounted his horse, saying, 
 in a vaunting manner, " This posture is a greater proof which way the 
 victory went, than all the pictures the Roman artists can draw." 
 
 Having kept him, for the space oT seven years, in this abject, state 
 of slavery, he at last caused his eyes to be put out, though he was 
 then eighty-three years of age ; and his desire of revenge not being 
 satisfied, he soon after ordered his body to Be flayed alive, and rubbed 
 with salt, under which torments he expired. 
 
 Gallienus, the son of Valerian, succeeded him, A. D. 260, and during 
 his reign, the empire sufiered many commotions, particularly earth- 
 quakes, pestilence, inundations, intestine broils, and incursions of bar- 
 barians. This emperor reflecting, that when his father favoured the 
 Christians he prospered, and that when he persecuted them he was 
 unsuccessful, determined to relax the persecution ; so that (a few mar- 
 tyrs excepted) the church enjoyed peace for some years. 
 
 THE NINTH GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS. 
 
 In the year 274 the Emperor Aurelian commenced a persecution 
 against the Christians : the principal of the sufferers was Felix, bishop 
 of Rome. This prelate was advanced to the Roman see in 274, and 
 was beheaded in the same year, on the 22d of December. Agape- 
 tus, a young gentlemen, who sold his estate, and gave the money 
 to the poor, was seized as a Christian, tortured, and then brought to 
 Praeneste, a city within a day's journey of Rome, where he was be- 
 headed. These are the only martyrs left upon record during this 
 reign, as it was soon put a stop to by the emperor's being murdered by 
 his own domestics, at. Byzantium. Aurelian was succeeded by Taci- 
 tus, who was followed by Probus, as was the latter by Cams : this 
 emperor being killed by a thunder storm, his sons, Carinus and Nu- 
 meria.i, succeeded him ; and durir g all thSSfe feigns, the church en- 
 joyed rest. 
 
 Diocletian mounting the imperial throne, A. D. 284, at first shewed 
 great favour to the Christians. jLn the year 286, he associated Maxi- 
 mian with him in the empire ; and the following Christians were put 
 to death before any general perf,ecution broke out — Felician and Pri- 
 mus, two brothers. They wero seized by an order from the imperial 
 court; and owning themselves Christians, were accordingly scourged 
 
 7 
 
50 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 toi tured, and finally beheaded. Marcus and Marcellianus were twins, 
 natives of Rome, and of noble descent. Their parents were heathens, 
 but the tutors to whom the education of their children was intrusted, 
 brought them up as Christians. Being apprehended on account of 
 their faith, they were severely tortured, and then sentenced to be be* 
 headed. A respite of a month was obtained for them by their friends, 
 when their father, mother, and all their relations, attempted to bring 
 them back to paganism, but in vain. At last their constancy subdued 
 their persuaders, and their parents and whole family became con- 
 verts to a faith they had just before condemned. 
 
 Tranquilinus, the father of the two young men, was sent for by the 
 prefect, to give him an account of the success of his endeavours ; 
 when he confessed, that so far from having persuaded his sons to for- 
 sake the faith they had embraced, he was become a Christian himself^ 
 He then stopped till the magistrate had recovered from his surprise, 
 and resuming his discourse, he used such powerful arguments, that he 
 made a convert of him, who soon after sold his estate, resigned his . 
 command, and spent the remainder of his days in a pious retirement. 
 
 The prefect who succeeded the above-mentioned convert, had no- 
 thing of the disposition of his predecessor : he was morose and se^ 
 vere, and soon seized upon the whole of this Christian race, who were 
 accordingly martyred, by being tied to posts, and having their feet 
 pierced with nails. After remaining in this situation for a day and 
 night, their sufferings were put an end to by thrusting lances through 
 their bodies. 
 
 Zoe, the wife of the gaoler, Avho had the care of the before-men- 
 . tioned martyrs, being greatly edified by their discourses, had a de- 
 sire to become a Christian ; this, as she was dumb with a palsy, she 
 could only express by gestures. They gave her instructions in the 
 faith, and told her to pray in her heart to God to relieve her from her 
 disorder. She did so, and was at length relieved ; for her paralytic 
 disorder by degrees left her, and her speech returned again. This 
 enforced her belief, and confirmed her a Christian ; and her husband, 
 finding her cured, became a convert himself. These conversions made 
 -a great noise, and the proselytes were apprehended. Zoe was com- 
 manded to sacrifice to Mars, which refusing, she was hanged upon a 
 tree, and a fire of straw lighted under her. When her body was ta- 
 ken down, it was thrown into a river, with a large stone tied to it, in 
 order to sink it. 
 
 Massacre of a whole Legion of Christian Soldiers. 
 
 A very remarkable affair occurred in A. D. 286. A legion of sol- 
 diers, consisting of 6666 men, contained none but Christians. This 
 legion was called the Theban legion, because the men had been raised 
 in Thebais : they were quartered in the East, till the Emperor Mari- 
 mian ordered them to march to Gaul, to assist him against the reoels 
 of Burgundy ; when passing the Alps under the command of Mauri- 
 tius, Candidus, and Exupernis, they at length joined the emperoi. 
 About this time, Maximian ordered a general sacrifice, at which the 
 whole army were to assist ; and he commanded that they should take 
 oaths of allegiance, and swear, at the same time, to assist him in the 
 extirpation of Christianity in Gaul. 
 
NINTH GENERAL PERSECUTION 31 
 
 Terrified at these orders, each individual of the Theban legion abso- 
 lutely refused either to sacrifice, or take the oaths prescribed. This so 
 greatly enraged Maximian, that he ordered the legion to be decimated, 
 that is, every tenth man to be selected from the rest, and put to the 
 sword. This cruel order having been put into execution, those who 
 remained alive were still inflexible, when a second decimation took 
 place, and again every tenth man of those living, was put to the. 
 sword. 
 
 But this second severity made no more impression than the first ; 
 the soldiers preserved their fortitude, and their principles ; but, by the 
 advice of their officers, drew up a remonstrance to the emperor, in 
 which they told him, " that they were his subjects and his soldiers, 
 but could not at the same time forget the Almighty ; that they receiv- 
 ed their pay from him, and their existence from God. While your 
 commands (said they) are not contradictory to those of our common 
 master, we shall always be ready to obey, as we have been hitherto ; 
 but when the orders of our prince and those of the Almighty difier, we 
 must always obey the latter. Our arms are devoted to the emperor's 
 use, and shall be directed against his enemies ; but we cannot submit 
 to stain our hands with effusion of Christian blood ; and how, indeed, 
 could you, O emperor, be sure of our allegiance and fidelity, should 
 we violate our obligation to our God, in whose service we were so- 
 lemnly engaged before we entered the army ? You commanded us to 
 search out, and to destroy the- Christians : it is not necessary to look 
 any farther for persons of that denomination ; we ourselves are such, 
 and we glory in the name. We saw our companions fall without the 
 least opposition or murmuring, and thought them happy in dying for 
 the sake of Christ. Nothing shall make us lift up our hands against 
 our sovereign ; we had rather die wrongfully, and by that means pre- 
 serve our innocence, than live under a load of guilt : whatever you 
 command, we are ready to suff"er : we confess ourselves to be Chris- 
 tians, and therefore cannot persecute Christians, nor sacrifice to 
 idols." 
 
 Such a declaration, k might be presumed, would have softened the 
 emperor, but it had a contrary eflfect ; for, enraged at their perseve- 
 rance and unanimity, he commanded that the whole legion should be 
 put to death, which was accordingly executed by the other troops, 
 who cut them to pieces with their swords. 
 
 This barbarous transaction happened on the 22d of September, 
 A. D. 386 ; and such was the inveterate malice of Maximian, that he 
 sent to destroy every man of a few detachments, which had been 
 drafted from the Theban legion, and dispatched to Italy. 
 
 Alhan, the first British Martyr. 
 
 Alban, from whom St. Alban's, in Hertfordshire, received its name, 
 was the first British martyr. He was originally a pagan, and being 
 of a very humane disposition, he sheltered a Christian ecclesiastic, 
 named Amphibalus, who was pursued on account of his religion. 
 The pious example, and edifying discourses of the refugee, made a 
 great impression on the mind of Alban; he longed to become a mem- 
 ber of a religion which charmed him ; the fugitive minister, haDpy in 
 the opportunity, took great pains to instruct him ; and, before his 
 discovery, perfected Alban's conversion. 
 
53 SOUK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 Alban now took a firm resolution to preserve the sentiments of a 
 Christian, or to die the death of a martyr. The enemies of Amphibalus 
 having intelligence of the place where he was secreted, came to the 
 house of Alban, in order to apprehend him. The noble host desi- 
 rous of protecting his guest, changed clothes with him, in order to 
 faciliate his escape ; and when the soldiers came, offered himself up 
 as the person for whom they were seeking. Being accordingly car- 
 ried before the governor, the deceit was immediately discovered ; and 
 Amphibalus being absent, that officer determined to wreak his ven- 
 geance upon Alban : with this view he commanded the prisoner to ad- 
 vance to the altar, and sacrifice to the pagan deities. The brave Al- 
 ban, however, refused to comply with the idolatrous injunction, and 
 boldly professed himself to be a Christian. The governor therefore 
 ordered him to be scourged, which punishment he bore with great 
 fortitude, seeming to acquire ncAv resolution from his sufferings ; he 
 was then beheaded. 
 
 The venerable Bede states, that upon this occasion, the execution- 
 er suddenly became a convert to Christianity, and entreated permis- ■ 
 sion either to die for Alban or with him. Obtaining the latter re- 
 quest, they were beheaded by a soldier, who voluntarily undertook 
 the task. This happened on the 22d of Jime, A. D. 287, at Verulam, 
 now St. Alban's, in Hertfordshire, where a magnificent church was 
 erected to his memory, about the time of Constantine the Great. 
 This edifice was destroyed in the Saxon wars, but was rebuilt by Of- 
 fa, king of Mercia, and a monastery erected adjoining to it, some 
 remains of which are still visible. 
 
 Martyrdom of St. Faith, and others. 
 
 Faith, a Christian female, of Aquitaine, in France, being informed 
 that there was a design to seize her, anticipated the intention, by sur- 
 rendering herself a prisoner ; and being inflexible in her faith, was 
 ordered to be broiled on a gridiron, and then beliGaded, Avhich sentence 
 was executed A. D. 287. Capacius, a Christian, concealed himself 
 from the persecutors, biit being informed of the fortitude of Faith, he 
 openly avowed his religion, and delivered himself up to the governor, 
 who had him first tortured, and then beheaded. Quintin was a Chris- 
 tian, and a native of Rome, but he determined to attempt the propa- 
 gation of the gospel in Gaul. He accordingly went to Picardy, at- 
 tended by one Lucian, and they preached together at Amiens ; after 
 which Lucian went to Beauvais, where he suffered martyrdom. 
 Quintin, hoAvever, remained in Picardy, and was very zealous in his 
 ministry. His continual prayers to the Almighty Avere to increase 
 his faith, and strengthen his faculties to propagate the gospel. Being 
 seized upon as a Christian, he Avas stretched Avith pulleys till his joints 
 ' were dislocated : his body Avas then torn AAdth Avire scourges, and 
 boiling oil and pitch poured on his naked flesh ; lighted torches Avere 
 applied to his sides and ai-m pits ; and after he had been thus tortured 
 he Avas remanded back to prison. Varus, the governor, being obliged 
 to repair to Vermandois, ordered Quintin to be conducted thither 
 under a strong guard ; and here he died of the barbarities he had 
 Buffered, on the 31st of October, A. D. 287 ; his body Avas sunk in 
 the Sanime. 
 
TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 53 
 
 THE TKNTH GENERAL PERSECUTION tTNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS 
 
 Notwithstanding the efforts of the heathens to exterminate the 
 Christians, and abolish their mode of faith, yet they increased so 
 greatly as to become formidable by their nimibers. They, however, 
 "forgot the precepts of their meek prototype, and instead of adopting 
 his humility, they gave themselves up to vanity, by dressing gaily, 
 living sumptuously, building stately edifices for churches, tStc. which 
 created a general envy, and particularly excited the hatred of Gale- 
 rius, the adopted son of Diocletian, who, stimulated by his mother, a 
 bigoted pagan, persuaded the emperor to commence a persecution. 
 It accordingly began on the 23d of February, A. D. 303, that being the 
 day on which the Terminalia were celebrated, and on which, as the 
 pagans boasted, they hoped to put a termination to Christianity. 
 
 The persecution began in Nicomedia : the prefect of that city re- 
 paired, with a great number of officers and assistants, to the church 
 of the Christians, where, having forced open the doors, they seized 
 upon all the sacred books, and committed them to the flames. This 
 transaction took place in the presence of Diocletian and Galerius, who 
 also caused the church to be levelled with the ground. It was follow-' 
 ed by a severe edict, commanding the destruction of all other Chris- 
 tian churches and books ; and an order soon succeeded, the object 
 of which was to render Christians of all denominations outlaws, and 
 consequently to make them incapable of holding any place of trust, 
 profit, or dignity ; or of receiving any protection from the legal insti- 
 tutions of the realm. An immediate martyrdom was the result of the 
 publication of this edict ; for a bold Christian not only tore it down 
 from the place to which it was affixed, but execrated the name of the 
 emperor for his injustice and cruelty : he was in consequence seized, 
 severely tortured, and then burnt alive. The Christian prelates were 
 likewise apprehended and imprisoned ; and Galerius privately order- 
 ed the imperial palace to be set on fire, that the Christians might be 
 charged as the incendiaries, and a plausible pretext given for carry- 
 ing on the persecution with the greatest severity. 
 
 A general sacrifice of the Christians. 
 
 A general sacrifice was then commanded, which occasioned vari- 
 ous martyrdoms. Among others, a Christian, named Peter, Avas toi'- 
 tured, broiled, and then burnt ; several deacons and presbyters were 
 seized upon, and executed by various means ; and the bishop of Ni- 
 comedia, named Anthimus, Avas beheaded. So great was the perse- 
 cution, that there Avas no distinction made of age or sex, but all Avere 
 indiscriminately massacred. Many houses Avere set on fire, and 
 whole Christian families perished in the flames ; others had stones 
 fastened about their necks, and Avere driven into the sea. The perse- 
 cution became general in all the Roman provinces, but more particu- 
 larly in the East ; and as it lasted ten years, it is impossible to ascer- 
 tain the numbers martyred, or to enumerate the A'arious modes of 
 martyrdom : some Avere beheaded in Arabia ; many devoured by wild 
 beasts in Phoenicia ; great numbers Avere broiled on gridirons in Sy- 
 ria ; others had their bones broken, and in that manner were left to 
 expire in Cappadocia ; and in Mesopotamia, several were hung with 
 
54 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 their heads downwards, over a slow fire, and suffocated. In Pontus, 
 a variety of tortures were used; in particular, pins were thrust under 
 the nails of the prisoners, melted lead was poured upon them ; but 
 without effect. In Egypt, some Christians were buried alive in the 
 earth, others were drowned in the Nile, many were hung in the air till 
 they perished, and great numbers Avere thrown into large fires, <fec. 
 Scourges, racks, daggers, swords, poison, crosses, and famine, were 
 made use of in various parts to despatch the Christians ; and invention 
 was exhausted to devise tortures against them. 
 
 A town of Phrygia, consisting entirely of Christians, was surround- 
 ed by a number of pagan soldiers, to prevent any from escaping ; 
 they then set the town on fire, and all the inhabitants perished in 
 the flames. 
 
 Provincial Governors address ike Emperor to stop the Persecution. 
 
 At last, several governors of provinces represented to the imperial 
 court, that " it was unfit to pollute the cities with the blood of the in- 
 habitants, or to defame the government of the emperors with the death 
 of so many subjects." Hence many Avere respited from execution ; 
 but. though not put to death, they were subjected to every species on 
 indignity. Many had their ears cut off, their noses slit, their righ < 
 eyes put out, their limbs dislocated, and their flesh seared in conspj 
 cuous places, with red-hot irons. 
 
 Account of some who suffered. ..^^/^ 
 
 Amongst those who forfeited their lives during this bloody perse 
 cution, 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 by 
 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 against, and 
 betrayed to Fabian the Roman Prsgtor, 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 answered, 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, Avas 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 Martins, and there to be shot to death Avith ar- 
 rows ; which sentence* was accordingly executed. A fcAV Christians 
 attended at the place of execution, in order to give his body burial, 
 perceived signs of life in him, and moAing him to a place of security, 
 they in a short time effected his recovery, and prepared him for a 
 second martyrdom ; for as soon as he was able to Avalk, he placed 
 
TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 55 
 
 himself intentionally in the emperor's way as he was going to the 
 temple. The unexpected appearance of a pex'son supposed to be 
 dead, greatly astonished the emperor, nor did the words of the mar- 
 tyr less surprise him ; for he began M'ith 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 Christian lady, 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 ^is afflictions, and his faith was superior to the most 
 dangerous perils and misfortunes. Hylas, his father, who Avas 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 efl^brts 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 lim out of his faith : hp 
 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, sufliered 
 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 Avas 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 who escaped with him, were 
 martyred at the same time ; but the manner is unknown. 
 
 There Avas one Victor, a Christian, of a good family at Marseilles, 
 in France, Avho spent a great part of the night in A'isiting the afflicted, 
 and confirming the Aveak, Avhich pious Avork he could not, consistently 
 with his own safety, perform in the day-time ; and his fortune he 
 Bpent in relieving the distresses of poor Christians. His actions be- 
 coming knoAvn, he Avas seized by the emperor's orders, and being car- 
 ried before tAvo prefects, they advised him to embrace paganism, and 
 not forfeit the favour of his prince, on accoimt of a dead man, as they 
 styled Christ : in ansAver to Avhich 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 cpuld receive from the 
 emperor's favour : that he Avas a soldier of Christ, and Avould tPierefore 
 take care that the post he held under an earthly prince, should never 
 interfere with his duty to the King of Heaven." For this reply, Vic- 
 tor was loaded with 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, " That 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 sufficient 
 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 inflixiting 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 Longinvis. This 
 afifair 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 examiiied 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 
 was 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 apparattis 
 breaking, he was drawn from the-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 way 
 to promotion, riches, and honours ; and that the emperors themselves 
 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 destr ction. 
 As for promotion, he desired it not, as he could not in conscience ac- 
 cept of any place which would 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 themselves 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 
 
Julian put into a sack with serpents. Page 43. 
 
 '••#'*• 
 
 Tortures of the early Christian Martyrs. 
 
 Saturnius tied to a Bull. Page 46. 
 
TENl'H GENERAL PERSECUTION. 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 was then brought before Maximus, who, as usual, asked his 
 name. Undcij^ntedly the prisoner replied, the most valuable name he 
 could boast of was that of a Christian. To this Maximus replied in 
 the following words : " Your name of Christian will be of little ser- 
 vice to you ; 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 v/hich Probus rejoined, "• that 
 character is badly bestowed on one who refuses to worship idols, or 
 what is worse, devils." After being scourge*? 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 will grow vigorous, and be a gainer." He was 
 then committed to goal, loaded with 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 Avith 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. Probvis 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 will find that neither you, nor your masters, the 
 emperors, nor the gods whom you serve, nor the devil, who is your 
 father, shall oblige me to adore gods whom I know not." The go- 
 vernor, however, attempted to reason Avith 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 Jupiter ; to one who married his OAvn sister ; 
 to an infamous debauchee, as he is even acknoAvledged to have been 
 by your own priests and poets ?" ProA'-oked 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 lack, and afterwards scourged ; his head was then shaved, 
 
 8 
 
58 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 and red hot coals placed upon the crown ; and after all these tortureff, 
 he 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 laws of their fathers, i-enounced 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 woimds were after- 
 wards rubbed with salt ; but being well again in a short time, the go- 
 vernor reproached the gaoler for having suffered 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 would willingly 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 which 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 them 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 Romanus. 
 
 Romanus, a native of Palestine, Avas deacon of the church of Csesa- 
 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 see many Christians, through fear, 
 submit to the idolatrous mandate, and deny their faith 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 Vt^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. §9 
 
 Thus cruelly mangled, he turned to the governor, and very calmly 
 thanked hhn for what he had done, and for having opened for hun 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 the-ir 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 worship 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 Avhich 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 persu*. 
 
00 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 ded her and her sisters to keep those books and writings? She answer- 
 ed, It was 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 sufiered before her. 
 
 Martyrdom 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 niunbers were seized upon and imprisoned; their good? 
 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 
 starved in the city, by means of the following singular stratagem : The 
 governor gave strict orders, that no provisions Avhatever should be ex- 
 posed to sale in the markets without having been first consecrated to 
 the idqls; 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 was pour- 
 ed into his wounds, his flesh was seared with burning torches, and his 
 
TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. gj 
 
 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 butjutt 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, s.'dicxiled 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 Tecusa, who thus 
 addressed him : " What designs, child, can you have on us, who are 
 worn out Avith age and infirmities ? I am now more than threescore 
 and ten years old, my companions are not much younger ; you may 
 lot)k 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 images 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 ojdered them 
 all to have stones tied about their necks, and to be pushed into the 
 water intended for the washing, in Avhich they Avere drowned. 
 
 It now happened that, Aveary 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 tAvo 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, Ave 
 are informed, that "he not only condemned them to tortures, but 
 to be burnt, in slow fires, in this horrible manner : they Avere first 
 chained to a post, then a gentle fire put to the soles of their feet, 
 which contracted the callus till it fell off from the bone ; then flam 
 
62 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 beaux just extinguished were put to all parts of their bodies, so that 
 they might 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- 
 ficing 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 Avas immediately put 
 to the rack, and tortured Avith 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 Avas tauglit the precepts of the gospel 
 by his mother, Avho was a Christian. Applying to the study of medi- 
 cine, he became eminent in that science, and Avas appointed physician 
 to the Emperor Galerius. The name of Pantaleon in Greek signifies 
 humane, and the appellation Avell suited his nature, for he Avas one of 
 the most benevolent men of his time ; but his extraordinary reputation 
 roused the 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, Avhich sentence Avas accordingly executed 
 on July 27, A. D. 305. 
 
 Hermolaus, an aged and pious Christian, and an intimate acquaint- 
 ance of Pantaleon, suffered martyrdom for his faith on the same day, 
 and in the same manner. 
 
 Juitta, of Cappadocia, Avas a lady of distinguished abilities, great 
 virtue, and uncommon courage : she Avas put to death in consequence 
 of the accusation of a heathen Av^ho had usurped her estates, and 
 bribed the judges in his favour. Refusing to offer incense to the pa- 
 gan deities, she Avas burnt to death. 
 
 Eustratius, secretary to the governor of Armenia, Avas throAvn into 
 a furnace, for exhorting some Christians, who had been apprehended, 
 to persevere in their faith. Auxentius and Eugenius, tAvo of Eustra- 
 tius's adherents, Avere 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 wearing 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 to death. 
 
 Dorothea, a Christian of Cappadocia, was, by the governor's order, 
 placed under the care of two women, 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 beiflg made a Christian, 
 and brought to Rome, by his uncle, 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 accoimt. 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, with great reso- 
 lution, received the crown of martyrdom. Besides these, there were 
 many others, whose 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, was posted at Tangier, 
 and being a Christian, suffered martyrdom, under the following cir- 
 cumstances : 
 
 While he was there, the emperor's birth day was kept, and the sa- 
 crifices to the pagan idols made a considerable part of that solemnity. 
 All the subjects of the empire were expected, on that occasion, to con- 
 form to the blind religion of their prince ; but Marcellus, who had been 
 well instructed in the duties of his profession, expressed his detesta- 
 tion of those profane practices, by throwing away his belt, the badge 
 of his military character, at the head of his company, declaring aloud 
 that he was 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- 
 
G4 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 pire, which were 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 quit 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 St. 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 hiscourage, and was proiTioted 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 underwent with great constancy. He was afterAvards, by 
 the emperor's orders, dragged through the streets and beheaded. 
 
 Constantine becomes the champion of the Christians. 
 
 Constantino the Great at length deterinined 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 he 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 Aveight 
 of evidence is certainly against it. Dr. HaAveis giA^es up the miracle 
 altogether, and pronounces it " an imposition." " The Arhole storj^" 
 says the. translator of Mosheim, " is attended Avith difficulties Avhich 
 render it, both as a miracle and a fact, extremely dubious." To this 
 it may be added, that Eusebius, AA'ho has transmitted the account to us, 
 and to whom Constantine rel>iited 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 saw 
 the phenomenon ; and more than all, AA'hy, if Constantine believed it 
 himself, did he neglect to be baptized, till on his death bed, maH" 
 years after the occurrence is said to have happened ? In short, there 
 is reason to believe it to have been a political fabrication — an artful 
 
Laurence broiled on a bed of Iron. Page 47. 
 
 Sebastian shot loith Allows Paffe 54. 
 
 Primitive Martyrdoms. 
 
M 
 
TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 55 
 
 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 
 in 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." 
 Constantine was greatly surprised' at this strange sight, which was 
 visible to the whole army, who equally wondered at it with 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, Avith 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, Constantine 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 affected to appear such, 
 through dread of Constantine's power ; for even after publishing se- 
 veral edicts in favour of the Christians, 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 suffered 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. 
 
 9 
 
QQ ' BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 REMARKS ON THE VENGEANCE OF GOD TOWARDS THE PERSECUTOR* 
 OF THE CHRISTIANS. 
 
 We cannot close our account of the ten persecutions under the 
 Roman emperors, without calling the attention of the Christian reader 
 to 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 God, 
 is contemned. During the persecutions of the holy martyrs which 
 we have related above, the Roman people were the victims of the 
 cruelty and tyranny of their rulers, and the empire was perpetually 
 torn and distracted by civil wars. In the reign of Tiberius, five 
 thousand were crushed to death by the fall of a theatre, and on many 
 other occasions the divine wrath was manifested against that cruel 
 and merciless nation. 
 
 Neither did the emperors themselves escape without their just re- 
 ward. Tiberius was murdered ; as were his three immediate succes- 
 sors. Galba, after a reign of only seven months, was put to death by 
 Otho, who being vanquished by Vitellius, killed himself. Vitellius, 
 shortly after, was tortured, and his body thrown into the Tiber. Ti- 
 tus is said to have been poisoned by his brother Domitian, who was 
 afterwards slain by his wife. Commodus was strangled. Pertinax 
 and Didius were put to death; Severus killed himself; Caraccalla 
 slew his brother Geta, and was in his turn slain by Macrinus, who, 
 with his son, was afterwards killed by his own soldiers. Heliogaba- 
 lus was put to death by the people. Alexander Severus, a virtuous 
 emperor, was murdered by Maximinus, who was afterwards slain by 
 his own army. Pupienus and Balbinus were murdered by the Prae- 
 torian guards. Gordian and Philip were slain. Decius was drowned, 
 and his son killed in battle. Gallus and Volusianus were rnurdered 
 by J^milianus, who within three months afterwards was himself 
 slain. Valerian was taken prisoner by the Persians, and at length 
 flayed alive, and his son Gallienus was assassinated. Aurelian was 
 murdered ; as were Tacitus, Florianus, and Probus. Galerius died 
 in a miserable manner, as did Maximinus of a horrible and loathsome 
 disease. Maxentius, being conquered by Constantine, was browned 
 in his attempt to escape ; and Licinius was deposed, and &lain by his 
 soldiers. 
 
 The Jews, also, for their obstinacy and wickedness in rejecting the 
 gospel so graciously offered to them by Jesus Christ, were signally 
 punished. Forty years had scarcely elapsed from the- crucifixion of 
 our Saviour, when Jerusalem was levelled with the ground, and more 
 than a million of the Jews killed ; innumerable multitudes sold for 
 slaves ; and many thousands torn to pieces by wild beasts, or other- 
 wise cruelly slain. Indeed the nation may be said to have been an- 
 nihilated — its political existence was terminated, and the descendants . 
 of that people, which was once peculiarly favoured of God, are now 
 scattered over the face of the earth — a by-word and a reproach among 
 the nations. •*] 
 
 Thus it is evident that wickedness and infidelity are certainly, 
 though sometimes slowly, punished by Him who is just, although 
 merciful ; and if he has hitherto graciously refrained from visiting the 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN PERSIA. Qf 
 
 sins of this nation with the punishment which they deserve, let us not 
 be vain of that exemption : let us not attribute it to any merit of our 
 own ; but rather let it afford an additional motive to our gratitude and 
 praise ; let us unfeignedly thank him for his tender mercies daily 
 vouchsafed to us ; and while we bow before him in humble adoration, 
 let us earnestly endeavour to preserve our worship of him, free from 
 all ungodliness and superstition. Sa shall we not only secure our hap- 
 piness in this world, but, in the ena,''attain everlasting joy and felici- 
 ty, through the merits of our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, 
 who gave up himself as a precious sacrifice for our transgressions. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF THE PERSECUTIONS OF THE CHRISTIANS IN PERSIA BY 
 SAPORES II. ; IN EGYPT, &.C. BY THE ARIAN HERETICS ; BY JULIAN 
 THE APOSTATE ; BY THE GOTHS, VANDALS, &C. &.C. 
 
 SECTION I, 
 
 PERSECUTIONS OF THE CHRISTIANS IN PERSIA. 
 
 In consequence of the gospel having spread itself into Persia, the 
 pagan priests became greatly alarmed, dreading the loss of their influ- 
 ence over the minds of their people. Sapores II., the grandson of Sa- 
 pores I., at this time swayed the sceptre of Persia, A. D. 328. To him, 
 therefore, the priests complained of the Christians, representing them 
 to be the enemies of Persia, and secretly carrying on a correspon- 
 dence with the Roman government. Naturally averse to Christiani- 
 ty, the jealousy and hatred of Sapores were greatly increased by the 
 above representations of the priests, and orders were issued for the 
 persecution of the Christians, throughout the Persian empire. Two 
 other persecutions followed the above ; but the third, it is said, was 
 more cruel and destructive than either of the others. 
 
 Martyrdom of Simeon and others. 
 
 In consequence of the above mandate of Sapores, Simeon arch- 
 bishop of Seleucia, with many other ecclesiastics, to the number of 128, 
 were apprehended, and accused of having betrayed the affairs of Per- 
 sia to the Romans. The emperor being greatly exasperated against 
 them, ordered Simeon to be brought before him. The archbishop in 
 his presence boldly acknowledged his faith, and defended the cause of 
 Christianity. The emperor, offended at his freedom, ordered him to 
 kneel before him as he had heretofore done. To this Simeon an- 
 swered, " That being now brought before him a prisoner, for the truth 
 of his religion, it was not lawful for him to kneel, lest he should be 
 thought to worship a man, and betray his faith to his God." Where- 
 
68 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 upon the emperor told him, that if he did not kneel, he and all the 
 Christians in his dominions should be put to death ; but Simeon 
 still rejected the command with disdain. The emperor then ordered 
 him to be sent to prison. 
 
 A short time after, Simeon, with his fellow prisoners, was again 
 examined, and commanded to worship the sun, agreeably to the Per- 
 sian custom ; but this they unanimously refused. The emperor then 
 sentenced them to be beheaded, which sentence was accordingly 
 executed. 
 
 An aged eunuch, named Usthazares, who had been tutor to the em- 
 peror, and Avas in great estimation at court, meeting Simeon as he was 
 led to prison, saluted him. Simeon, however, (as Usthazares had for- 
 merly been a Christian, and had apostatized to oblige the emperor,} 
 would not return his salute, but reproved him for his apostacy. This 
 so affected the eunuch, that he burst into tears, and exclaimed, " Ah! 
 how shall I hereafter look upon my God, whom I have denied, when 
 Simeon, my old companion and familiar acquaintance, disdains to 
 give me a gentle word, or to return my salute !" 
 
 The emperor learning that his ancient tutor was greatly afflicted, 
 sent for him, and asked him whether he desired any thing which could 
 be procured for him ; to which the eunuch replied, " That there was 
 nothing that he wanted, which this earth could afford ; but that his 
 grief was of another kind, and for Avhich he jtkstly mourned, namely, 
 that to oblige his sovereign he had denied his God, and had dissem- 
 blingly worshipped the svm, against his own conscience ; for which," 
 continued he, " I am deserving of a double death; first, for denying of 
 Christ, and secondly, for dissembling with my king." 
 
 The emperor, greatly offended at this speech, ordered Usthazares to 
 be beheaded ; who therfore requested that it might be proclaimed, 
 " That Usthazares did not die for any crime against the emperor or 
 state ; but only that being a Christian, he would not deny his God." 
 This petition was granted and was a great satisfaction to Usthazares, 
 whose chief reason for desiring it was, because his falling off from 
 Christ had caused many others to folloAv his example ; who now hear- 
 ing that he died for no crime but his religion, might, like him, return 
 to Christ and the faith. Usthazares then cheerfully yielded his neck 
 to the sword. 
 
 , Soon after the above execution, an edict was published, ordering 
 Aat all who confessed themselves Christians, should be put to death ; 
 which caused the destruction of multitudes. About this time the em- 
 press of Persia falling sick, the sisters of Simeon, the archbishop, Avere 
 accused by some of the magi of causing tliis calamity. This report 
 being credited, they Avere by the emperor's orders, sawed in quarters, 
 and their limbs fixed upon poles, between AA'hich the empress passed 
 as a charm to effect the restoration of her health. 
 
 Acepsimus, and many other ecclesiastics, Avere seized, and ordered 
 to adore the sun ; which refusing, they Avere scourged, and then tor- 
 mented to death, or kept in prison till they expired. Athalas, a priest 
 though not put to death, Avas so miserably racked, that his arms Avere 
 rendered useless ; and he Avas ever after obliged to be fed like a child. 
 In short, by this edict, above 16,000 persons either suffered horribly 
 by torture, or lost their lives. 
 
ARIAN PERSECUTION. 69 
 
 Constantine writes to the king of Persia in favour of the Christians. 
 
 When Constantine the Great was informed of the persecutions in 
 Persia, he was much concerned, and began to reflect in what manner 
 he should redress their grievances, when an ambassador arrived from 
 the Persian emperor upon some political business. Constantine re- 
 ceived him courteously, granted his demands, and wrote a letter to 
 the Persian monarch in favour of the Christians, in which he alluded 
 to the vengeance that had fallen on persecutors, and the success that 
 had attended those who had refrained from the persecution; and then 
 referring to the tyi'ants and persecuting emperors of his own time, he 
 said, " I subdued those solely by faith in Christ ; for which God was 
 my helper, who gave me victory in battle, and made me triumph over 
 my enemies, and hath so enlarged to me the bounds of the Roman 
 empire, that it extends from the Western Ocean almost to the utter- 
 most parts of the East : for which purpose I neither offered sacrifices 
 to the ancient deities, nor made use of charm or divination ; but only 
 offered up piayers to the Almighty God, and followed the cross of 
 Christ: and how glad should I be to hear that the throne of Persia 
 flourished, by embracing the Christians ! that so you with me, and 
 they with you, may enjoy all the felicity your souls could desire ; as 
 undoubtedly you would, God, the Almighty Creator of all things, be- 
 coming your protector and defender. These men, therefore, I com- 
 mend to your honour ; I commit them unto you, desiring you to em- 
 brace them with humanity ; for in so doing, you will procure to 
 yourelf grace through faith, and bestow on me a benefit worthy of my 
 thanks.'* 
 
 In consequence of this appeal, the persecution ended during the 
 life of Sapores ; but it was renewed under his successors. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS BY THE ARIAN HERETICS. ,5" 
 
 The sect denominated the Arian heretics, had its origin from Arius,* 
 a native of Lybia, and priest of Alexandria, who, in A. D, 318, bega|i 
 to publish his errors. He was condemned by a council of Lybian arui 
 Egyptian bishops, and the sentence was confirmed by the council of 
 Nice, A. D. 325. After the death of Constantine the Great, the Arians 
 found means to ingratiate themselves into the favour of Constantius, his 
 son and successor in the East ; and hence a persecution was raised 
 against the orthodox bishops and clergy. The celebrated Athanasius, 
 and other bishops, were banished at this period, and their sees tilled 
 with Arians. 
 
 In Egypt and Lybia, thirty bishops were martyred, and many other 
 Christians cruelly tormented ; and A. D. 336, George, the Arian bishop 
 of Alexandria, under the authority gf the emperor, began a persecu- 
 tion in that city and its environs, which was continued with the ut- 
 
 * Arius, the founder of this sect of heretics, and the first cause of the persecutions 
 which are related in this section, died miserably at Constantinople, just as he was aboat 
 to enter the church in triumph. 
 
70 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 most severity. He was assisted by Catophonius, governor of Egypt;: 
 Sebastian, general of the Egyptian forces, Faustinus, the treasurer, 
 and a Roman officer, named Herachus. Indeed, so fierce was this per- 
 secution, that the clergy were driven from Alexandria, their churches 
 were shut, and the severities practised by the Arian heretics were 
 as great as those which had been exercised by the pagan idolaters. If 
 a man accused of being a Christian made his escape, his whole fami- 
 ly were massacred, and his effects forfeited. By this means, the or- 
 thodox Christians, being deprived of all places of public worship in 
 the city of Alexandria, used to perform their devotions in a desert at 
 some distance from it. Having, one Lord's day, met for worship, 
 George, the Arian bishop, engaged Sebastian, the general, to fall upon 
 them with his soldiers, while they Avere at prayers : and many were 
 sacrificed to the fury of the troops, Avhile others were reserved for 
 more cruel and lingering deaths ; some were beaten on their faces till 
 all their features were disfigured ; or were lashed with twigs of palm- 
 trees, with such violence, that they expired under the blows, or by 
 the mortification of their wounds. Several, whose lives had been 
 spared, were, however, banished to the deserts of Africa, where, amidst 
 all their sufferings, they passed their time in prayer. 
 
 Secundus, an orthodox priest, differing in point of doctrine from a 
 prelate of the same name, the bishop, who had imbibed all the opi- 
 nions of Arianism, determined to put Secundus to death, for rejecting 
 opinions which he himself had embraced. He therefore went with one 
 Stephen, an Arian also, sought out Secundus privately, fell upon and 
 murdered him ; the holy m.artyr, just before he expired, calling upon 
 Christ to receive his soul, and to forgive his enemies. 
 
 At this time, not satisfied with the cruelties exercised upon the or- 
 thodox Christians in Alexandria, the principal persecutors applied to 
 the emperor for an order to banish them from Egypt and Lybia, and 
 to give up their churches to the Arians : they obtained their request, 
 and an order was sent for that purpose to Sebastian, who signified the 
 emperor's pleasure to all the sub-governors and officers. Hence a 
 great number of the clergy were seized and imprisoned ; and it ap- 
 pearing that they adopted the opinions of Athanasius, an order was 
 signed for their banishment into the desert. While the orthodox cler- 
 gy were thus itsed, many of the laity were condemned to the mines, or 
 compelled to work in the quarries. Some few, indeed, escaped to 
 other countries, and several were weak enough to renounce their faith, . 
 in order to avoid the severities of the persecutors. 
 
 Persecution of Paul. 
 Paul, the bishop of Constantinople, was a Macedonian, arid had been- 
 designed, from his birth, for a clerical life. When Alexander, the pre- 
 decessor of Paul, was on his death-bed, he was consulted by some of 
 the clergy on the choice of a successor ; when he told them, "That if 
 they were disposed to choose a person of exemplary life, and tho- 
 roughly capable of instructing the people, Paul Avas the man ; but if 
 they had rather have a man acquainted with Avorldly affairs, and fit for 
 the conversation of a court, they might then choose Macedonius." 
 This latter was a deacon in the church of Constantinople, in which of- 
 fice he had spent many years, and gained great experience ; and the 
 dying prelate did both him and Paul justice in their different charac- 
 
ARIAW PERSECUTION. 71 
 
 ters. Nevertheless, the Arians gave out, that Alexander had bestowed 
 great commendations on Macedonius for sanctity, and had only given 
 Paul the reputation of eloquence, and a capacity for business : after 
 some struggle, the orthodox party carried their point, and Paul was 
 consecrated. Macedonius, oflended at this preference, did his utmost 
 to calumniate the new bishop, but not gaining belief, he dropped the 
 charge, and was reconciled to him. This, however, was not the case 
 with Eusebius of Nicomedia, Avho accused Paul of having led a disor- 
 derly life before his consecration ; and of having been placed in the 
 see of Constantinople without the consent of the bishops of Nicomedia 
 and Heraclea, two metropolitans, who ought to have been consulted 
 vpon that occasion. 
 
 Eusebius, to support these accusations, procured the emperor's au- 
 thority, by representing, that Paul having been chosen during the ab- 
 sence of Constantius, the imperial dignity had been insulted. This 
 artifice succeeded, and Paul being deposed, Eusebius succeeded 
 him. 
 
 Paul having thus lost all authority in the East, retired to the terri- 
 tories of Constans, in the West, where he was well received by the 
 orthodox prelates and clergy. At Rome he visited Athanasius, and 
 assisted at, a council held there, by Julius, the bishop of that see. Let- 
 ters being written by this council to the eastern prelates, Paul return- 
 ed to Constantinople, but was not restored to his bishopric till the 
 death of Eusebius. The Arians, however, constituting Macedonius 
 their bishop, by the title of bishop of Constantinople, a kind of civil 
 war ensued, in which many were put to death. 
 
 Constantius, the emperor, who was then at Antioch, hearing of 
 this schisxn, laid the whole blame upon Paul, and ordered that lie 
 should be driyen from Constantinople. But Hermogenrs, the cmcer 
 who had received the emperor's order, attempted in vain to putitinio 
 execution ; being slain by the orthodox Christians, who had risen in 
 defence of Paul. This event greatly exasperated the emperor, who 
 left Antioch in the depth of winter, and returned to Constantinople, 
 with a design to punish the Christians. He, however, contented him- 
 self with banishing Paul, and suspending Macedonius. Paul then 
 again retired to the territories of Constans, implored the protection of 
 that emperor, and by his intercession, was again vested in his see. 
 His re-establishment exasperated his enemies, who made many at- 
 tempts against his life, against which the affections of his people 
 were his only security ; and being convinced that the emperor had no 
 other motive for allowing his stay at Constantinople, but the dread of 
 disobliging his brother, Paul could not think himself wholly restored 
 to his bishopric ; and being very much concerned at what the ortho- 
 dox bishops suffered from the power and malice of the Arian faction, 
 he joined Athanasius, who was then in Italy, in soliciting a general 
 council. This council was held at Sardica, in Illyrium, in the year 
 347, at which were present one hundred bishops of the western, 
 and seventy-three of the eastern empire. But disagreeing in many 
 points, the Arian bishops of the East retired to Philipoppolis, in 
 Thrace ; and forming a meeting there, they termed it the council of 
 Sardica, from which place they pretended to issue an excommunica- 
 tion against Julius, bishop of Rome, Paul, bishop of Constantino- 
 ple, Athanasius bishop of Alexandria, ard several other prelates. In, 
 
72 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 the year 350, the Emperor Constans died, which gave the Arians fresh 
 courage, and they applied to the Emperor Constantius, who, being in- 
 clined tow^ards the Arians, wrote an order to the prelect Philip, to re- 
 move Paul from the bishopric of Constantinople, and to restore Ma- 
 cedonius. Paul was then exiled to Cucucus, confined in a dark dun- 
 geon for six days, without food, and then strangled. He met death 
 with uncommon fortitude. 
 
 The Arian party now made Gregory of Cappadocia, a very obscure 
 person, bishop of Alexandria, after having deposed Athanasius. In 
 the accomplishment of this affair, they were assisted by Philagerius, 
 the governor of Egypt, who was an apostate, and who authorized 
 them to commit every outrage. Hence, arming themselves with 
 swords, clubs, &c. they broke into one of the principal . churches ol 
 Alexandria, where great numbers of orthodox Christians were assem- 
 bled at their devotions ; and falling upon them in a most barbarous 
 manner, without the least respect to sex or age, butchered the greater 
 number. Potamo, a venerable bishop of Heraclea, who had formerly 
 lost one of his eyes in Diocletian's persecution, fell a martyr upon 
 this occasion, being so cruelly scourged and beaten, that he died ol 
 his wounds. The Arians also broke into many places, public and pri- 
 vate, under a pretence of searching for Athanasius, and committed 
 innumerable barbarities ; robbing orphans, plundering ihe houses oi 
 widows, dragging virgins to private places to be the sacrifices of de- 
 sire, imprisoning the clergy, burning churches and dwelling houses 
 belonging to the orthodox Christians ; besides other enormous cru- 
 elties. 
 
 sEcnoiN HI. 
 
 PERSECTTTIOKS UNDSR JVhlXS IHE APOSTATE. 
 
 Julian the Apostate was the son of Julius Constantius, and the ne- 
 phew of Constantine the Great. He studied the rudiments of gram- 
 mar under the inspection of Mardonius, a eunuch and a heathen. His 
 father sent him afterwards to Nicomedia, to be instructed in the 
 Christian religion, by Eusebius, his kinsman ; but his principles were 
 corrupted by the pernicious doctrines of Maximus the magician, and 
 Ecebolius the professor of rhetoric. 
 
 Constantius died in the year 361, when Julian succeeded him; but 
 he had no sooner obtained the imperial dignity, than he renounced 
 Christianity, and embraced paganism. He again restored idolatrous 
 worship, by opening the several temples that had been shut up, re- 
 building such as were destroyed, and ordering the magistrates and 
 people to follow his example ; but he did not issue any edicts against 
 Christianity. He recalled all banished pagans, allowed the free ex- 
 ercise of religion to every sect, but deprived the Christians of all of- 
 fices, civil and military, and the clergy of the privileges granted to 
 them by Constantine the Great. He was chaste, temperate, vigilant, 
 laborious, and apparently pious ; so that by Ids hypocrisy and pre- 
 tended virtues, he for a time did more mischief to Christianity than 
 the most profligate of his predecessors. 
 
 
PERSECUTIONS BY JULIAN, 
 
 73 
 
 Accordingly, this persecution was more dangerous than any of the 
 former, as Julian, under the mask of clemency, practised the greatest 
 cruelty, in seeking to delude the true believers ; and the Christian 
 faith was now in more danger of being subverted than it ever had 
 been, by means of a monarch at once witty and wicked, learned and 
 hypocritical ; who, at first, made his attempts by flattering gifts and 
 favours, bestowing offices and dignities ; and then, by prohibiting 
 Christian schools, he compelled the children either to become idola- 
 ters, or to remain illiterate. 
 
 Julian ordered that Christians might be treated coldly upon all 
 occasions, and in all parts of the empire, and employed witty persons 
 to turn them and their principles into ridicule. Many were likewise 
 martyred in his reign ; for though he did not publicly persecute them 
 himself, he connived at their being murdered by his governors and 
 officers ; and though he affected never to reward them for those cruel- 
 ties, neither did he ever punish them. We might give a long cata- 
 logue of persons who suffered during this reign, but our limits permit 
 us to notice only the death of Basil. 
 
 Martyrdom of Basil. 
 
 By his opposition to Arianism, Basil made himself famous, which 
 brought upon him the vengeance of the Arian bishop of Constantino- 
 ple, who issued an order to prevent him from j^reaching. He conti- 
 nued, however, to perform his duty at Ancyra, the capital of Galatia, 
 till his enemies accused him of being an incendiary, and a disturber 
 of the public peace ; Julian, however, was too intent on an expedi- 
 tion to Persia, to take notice of the accusation, and the malice of his 
 enemies at that time being wholly frustrated, he continued to preach 
 against the idolatry of paganism on the one hand, and the errors of 
 Arianism on the other ; earnestly exhorting the people to serve Christ 
 in the purity of faith, and fervency of truth. 
 
 One day meeting with a number of pagans going in procession to 
 a sacrifice, he boldly expressed his abhorrence of such idolatrous 
 proceedings, and inveighed against such absurd worship. This li- 
 berty caused the people to seize him, and carry him before Saturninus, 
 the governor, where they accused him of reviling the gods, abusing 
 the emperor, and disturbing the peace of the city. Having heard 
 these accusations, Saturninus desired to know his sentiments from 
 his own mouth ; when finding him a strenuous Christian, he ordered 
 him to be put to the rack, and then committed to prison. The gover- 
 aor wrote an account of his proceedings to the emperor, who was at 
 this time very busy in establishing the worship of Cybele, the fictitious 
 mother of the fabulous deities. Julian, on receiving the letter, sent 
 Pagosus and Elpidius, two apostates, to Ancyra, the city where Basil 
 was confined, to employ both promises and threats to engage him to 
 renounce his faith, and in case of their failure, they had orders to 
 give him up to the power of the governor. The emperor's agents 
 tampered in vain with Basil by means of promises, threats, and tor- 
 tures ; he was firm in the faith, and remained in prison till the empe- 
 ror by accident came to Ancyra. As soon as the people knew of Ju- 
 lian's approach, they met him in grand procession, and presented to 
 him their idol, the goddess Hecate. The two agents then gave the 
 emperor an account of what Basil had suffered, and of his firm resist- 
 
 10 
 
74 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 ance. Julian, on this, determined to examine Basil himself, wheft 
 that holy man being brought before him, the emperor did every thing 
 in his power to dissuade him from persevering in the faith; but Ba- 
 sil not only continued firm, but with a prophetic spirit foretold the 
 death of the emperor, and that he should be tormented in the other 
 world. Julian on this lost his usual affectation of clemency, and told 
 Basil, in great anger, that though he had an inclination to pardon him 
 at first, yet he had now, by the insolence of his behaviour, put it out 
 of his power to save his life. He then commanded that the body of 
 Basil should be torn every day in seven different parts, till his skin 
 and flesh Avere entirely mangled. The inhuman sentence was execu- 
 ted with rigour, and the martyr expired under his severities on the 
 28th of June, A. D. 362. 
 
 Marcus, bishop of Arethusa, having destroyed a pagan temple in 
 that city, erected a Christian church in its room, on which account 
 he was accused to Julian. His persecutors, stripping him naked, 
 cruelly beat him. He was then thrust into a filthy sewer, or sink, till 
 he Avas almost suffocated ; afterwards he was goaded with sharp- 
 pointed sticks : and lastly, he was hvmg up in a basket in the heat of 
 the sun, after having been smeared over with honey, in order to be 
 tormented to death by wasps. As soon as he was hung up, they asked 
 him if he Avould rebuild their temple. To wHch he answered, that he 
 would neither rebuild it, nor contribute in the smallest degree towards 
 its being rebuilt ; upon which they left him, and he fell a martyr to 
 the stings of the insects. 
 
 About the end of the year 363, the persecution raged with raor-e 
 than usual violence. In Palestine many w^ere burnt alive, others 
 were dragged by their feet through the streets naked till they expired ; 
 some were scalded to death, many stoned, and great numbers had 
 their brains beaten out with clubs. In Alexandria innumerable mar- 
 tyrs suffered by the sword, burning, crucifixion, and stoning. In 
 Arethusa, several were ripped open, and corn being put into their 
 bellies, swine were brought to feed thereon, who, in devouring the 
 grain, likewise devoured the entrails of the victim. 
 
 Christians fined for refusing to sacrifice to Idols. 
 
 When Julian intended an expedition against the Persians, he im- 
 posed a large fine upon every one who refused to sacrifice to the 
 idols, and by that means got a great sum from the Christians towards 
 defraying his expenses. Many of the ofiicers, in collecting these 
 fines, exacted more than their due, and some of them tortured the 
 Christians to make them pay what they demanded, at the same time 
 telling them in derision, " that when they were injured, they ought 
 to take it patiently, for so their God hath commanded them." The 
 inhabitants of Caesarea were fined in an immense sum, and several 
 of the clergy obliged to serve in the wars, as a pimishment for having 
 overthrown the temples of Jupiter, Fortune, and Apollo. The gover- 
 nor, at Meris, in Phrygia, having cleansed and opened a pagan tem- 
 ple, the Christians in the night, broke in, and demolished the idols. 
 Next day the governor ordered all Christians that accidentally came 
 in the way to be seized, that he might make examples of them, and 
 by this means would have executed several innocent persons ; but 
 those who really perpetrated the act, being too just to suffer such re 
 
rERSECUTIONS BY THE GOTHS AND VANDALS. 75 
 
 taliation, voluntarily delivered themselves up ; when they were scour- 
 ged severely, and then put upon gridirons and broiled to death. 
 
 Julian died of a wound which he received in his Persian expe- 
 dition, A. D. 363, and even while expiring, uttered the most horrible 
 blasphemies. He was succeeded by Jovian, who restored peace to 
 the church. After the decease of Jovian, Valentinian succeeded to 
 the empire, and associated to himself Valens, who had the command 
 in the East, and was an Arian of unrelenting and persecuting dispo- 
 sition. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS OF THE CHRISTIANS BY THE GOTHS AND VANDALS. 
 
 Many Scythian Goths having embraced Christianity about the 
 time of Constantine the Great, the light of the gospel spread itself 
 considerably in Scythia, though the two kings who ruled that country, 
 and the majority of the people, continued pagans. Fritegern, king 
 of the West Goths, was an ally to the Romans ; but Athanarick, king 
 of the East Goths, was at war with them. The Christians, in the 
 dominions of the former, lived unmolested, but the latter, having been 
 defeated by the Romans, wreaked his vengeance on his Christian 
 subjects, commencing his pagan injunctions in the year 370. 
 
 Eusebius, bishop of Samosata, makes a most distinguished figure 
 in the ecclesiastical history, and was one of the most eminent cham- 
 pions of Christ against the Arian heresy. Eusebius, after being dri- 
 ven from his church, and wamdering about through Syria and Pales- 
 tine, encouraging the orthodox, Avas restored Avith other orthodox 
 prelates to his see, which, however, he did not long enjoy, for an 
 Arian woman threw a tile at him from the top of a house, which frac- 
 tured his skull, and terminated his life in the year 380. 
 
 The Vandals, passing from Spain to Africa in the fifth century, un- 
 der their leader, Genseric, committed the most unheard-of cruelties. 
 They persecuted the Christians wherever they came, and even laid 
 waste the country as they passed, that the Christians left behind, 
 who had escaped them, might not be able to subsist. Sometimes 
 they freighted a vessel with martyrs, let it drift out to sea, or set fire 
 to it, with the sufferers shackled on the decks. 
 
 Having seized and plundered the city of Carthage, they put the 
 bishop, and all the clergy, into a leaky ship, and committed it to the 
 mercy of the waves, thinking that they must all perish of course ; but 
 providentially the vessel arrived safe at Naples. > Innumerable ortho- 
 dox Christians were beaten, scourged, and banished to Capsur, where 
 it pleased God to make them the means of converting many of the 
 Moors to Christianity ; but this coming to the ears of Genseric, he 
 sent orders that they and their new converts should be tied by the 
 feet to chariots, and dragged about till they were dashed to pieces. 
 
 Pampinian, the bishop of Mansuetes, was tortured to death Avith 
 plates of hot iron ; the bishop of Urice was burnt ; and the bishop of 
 Habensa was banished, for refusing to deliver up the sacred books 
 which were in his possession. 
 
76 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 The Vandalian tyrant Genseric, having made an expedition into 
 Italy, and plundered the city of Rome, returned to Africa, flushed 
 with the success of his arms. The Arians took this occasion to per- 
 suade him to persecute the orthodox Christians, as they assured him 
 that they were friends to the people of Rome. 
 
 After the decease of Huneric, his successor recalled him, and the 
 rest of the orthodox clergy ; the Arians, taking the alarm, persuaded 
 him to banish them again, which he complied with, when Eugenius ' 
 exiled to Languedoc in France, died there of the hardships he undei'- 
 went, on the sixth of September, A. D. 305. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE PERSECUTIONS IN VARIOITS COUNTRIES, BETWEEN 
 THE FIFTH AND THE TENTH CENTURIES. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS FROM THE FIFTH TO THE SEVENTH CENTURY. 
 
 Proterius was made a priest by Cyril, bishop of Alexandria, Avho 
 was well acquainted with his virtues, before he appointed him to 
 preach. On the death of Cyril, the see of Alexandria was filled by 
 Dioscorus, an inveterate enemy to the memory and family of his pre- 
 decessor. Being condemned by the council of Chalcedon for having 
 embraced the errors of Eutyches, he was deposed, and Proterius cho- 
 sen to fill the vacant see, who was approved of by the emperor. This 
 occasioned a dangerous insurrection, for the city of Alexandria Avas 
 divided into two factions ; the one to espouse the cause of the old, 
 and the other of the new prelaie. In one of the commotions, the Eu- 
 tychians determined to wreak their vengeance on Proterius, who fled 
 to the church for sanctuary : but on Good Friday, A. D. 457, a large 
 body of them rushed into the Church, and barbarously mvirdered the 
 prelate ; after which they dragged the body through the streets, in- 
 sulted it, cut it to pieces, burnt it, and scattered the ashes in the air. 
 
 Hermenigildus, a Gothic prince, was the eldest son of Leovigildus, 
 a king of the Goths, in Spain. This prince, who was originally an 
 Arian, became a convert to the orthodox faith, by means of his wife 
 Ingonda. When the king heard that his son had changed-his religious 
 sentiments, he stripped him of the command at Seville, where he was 
 governor, and threatened to put him to death, unless he renounced the 
 faith he had newly embraced. The prince, in order to prevent the 
 execution of his father's menaces, began to put himself into a posture 
 of defence ; and many of the orthodox persuasion in Spain declared 
 for him. The king, exasperated at this act of rebellion, began to 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN THE EIGHTH CENTURY. 77 
 
 punish all the orthodox Christians who could be seized by his troops ; 
 and thus a very severe persecution commenced : he likewise marched 
 against his son at the head of a very powerful army. The prince 
 took refuge at Seville, from which he fled, and was at length beseiged 
 and taken at Asieta. Loaded with chains, he was sent to Seville, and 
 at the feast of Easter refusing to receive the Eucharist from an Arian 
 bishop, the enraged king ordered his guards to cut the prince to 
 pieces, which they pimctually performed, April 13, A. D. 586. 
 
 Martin, bishop of Rome, was born at Todi, in Italy. He was na- 
 turally inclined to virtue, and his parents bestowed on him an admirable 
 education. He opposed the heretics called Monothothelites, who 
 were patronized by the Emperor Heraclius. Martin was condemned 
 at Constantinople, where he was exposed in the most public places to 
 the ridicule of the people, divested of all episcopal marks of distinc- 
 tion, and treated with the greatest scorn and severity. After lying 
 some months in prison, Martin was sent to an island at some distance, 
 and there cut to pieces, A. D. 655. 
 
 John, bishop of Bergamo, in Lombardy, was a learned man, and a 
 good Christian. He did his utmost endeavours to clear the church 
 from the errors of Arianism, and joining in this holy work with John, 
 bishop of Milan, he was very successful against the heretics, on Avhich 
 account he was assassinated on July 11, A. D. 683. 
 
 Killien was born in Ireland, and received from his parents a pious 
 and Christian education. He obtained the Roman pontiff's license to 
 preach to the pagans in Franconia, in Germany. At Wurtzburg he 
 converted Gozbert, the governor, whose example was followed by 
 the greater part of the people in two years after. Persuading Goz- 
 bert that his marriage with his brother's widow was sinful, the latter 
 had him beheaded, A. D. 689. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS FROM THE EIGHTH TO THE TENTH CENTURY. 
 
 I 
 
 Boniface, archbishop of Mentz, and father of the German church, 
 was an Englishman, and is, in ecclesiastical history, looked upon as 
 one of the brightest ornaments of this nation. Originally his name 
 was Winfrid, or Winfrith, and he was born at Kirten, in Devonshire, 
 then part of the West-Saxon kingdom. When he was only about six 
 years of age, he began to discover a propensity to reflection, and 
 seemed solicitous to gain information on religious subjects. Wolfrad, 
 the abbot, finding that he possessed a bright genius, as well as a 
 strong inclination to study, had him removed to Nutscelle, a seminary 
 of learning in the diocess of Winchester, where he would have a 
 much greater opportunity of attaining improvement than at Exeter. 
 
 After due study, the abbot, seeing him qualified for the priesthood, 
 obliged him to receive that holy order when he was about thirty years 
 old. From which time he began to preach, and labour for the salva- 
 tion of his fellow-creatures ; he was released to attend a synod of 
 bishops in the kingdom of West-Saxons. He afterward, in 719, went 
 
78 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 to Rome, where Gregory II. who then eat in Peter's chair, received 
 him with great friendship, and finding him full of all the virtues that 
 compose the character of an apostolical missionary, dismissed him 
 with a commission at large to preach the gospel to the pagans where- 
 ever he found tl\em. Passing through Lombardy and Bavaria, he 
 came to Thuringia, which country had before received the light of 
 the gospel ; he next visited Utrecht, and then proceeded to Saxony, 
 where he converted some thousands to Christianity. 
 
 Pope Gregory III. succeeded to the papal chair in 731, upon whose 
 accession Boniface sent proper persons to Rome to acquaint him with 
 the success of his labours. The pope not only answered the mes- 
 sage by assuring him of the communion and friendship of the see of 
 Rome, but as a mark of his respect for our missionary, sent him the 
 pallium, granted him the title of archbishop, or metropolitan of all 
 Germany, and empowered him to erect new bishoprics. 
 
 Bavaria had at this time only one bishop ; he therefore pursuant 
 to his commission from Rome, erected three new bishoprics, one at 
 Saltzbourg, a second at Freisingent, and a third atRatisbon, and thus 
 all Bavaria was divided into four dioceses. 
 
 Gregory III. was succeeded in the popedom by Zachary, A. D. 741, 
 and the latter confirmed Boniface in his power ; and approved of all 
 he had done in Germany, making him at the same time archbishop of 
 Mentz, and metropolitan over thirteen bishoprics. 
 
 During the ministry of this meek prelate, Pepin was declared king 
 of France. It was that prince's ambition to be crowned by the most 
 holy prelate he could find, and Boniface was pitched on to perform 
 that ceremony, which he did at Soissons in 753. The next year his 
 great age and many infirmities lay so heavily on him, that, with the 
 consent of the new king, the bishops, &c. of his diocess, he consecra- 
 ted Lullus, his countryman, and faithful disciple, and placed him in 
 the see of Mentz. When he had thus eased himself of his charge, he 
 recommended the church of Mentz to the care of the new bishop in 
 very strong terms, desired he would finish the church at Fuld, and 
 see' him buried in it, for his end was near. Having left these orders, 
 he took boat to the Rhine, and went to Friesland, where he converted 
 and baptized several thousands of the barbarous natives, demolished the 
 temples, and raised churches on the ruins of those superstitious struc- 
 tures. A day being appointed for confirming a great number of new 
 converts, he ordered them to assemble in a new open plain, near the 
 river Bourde. Thither he repaired the day before ; and, pitching a 
 tent, determined to remain on the spot all night, in order to be ready 
 early in the morning. 
 
 Some pagans, who Avere his inveterate enemies, having intelligence 
 of this, poured down upon him and the companions of his mission in 
 the night, and killed him and fifty-two of his companions and at- 
 tendants on June 5, A. I). 755. Thus fell the great father of the 
 Germanic church, the honour of England, and the glory of the age 
 in which he lived. 
 
 Forty-two persons of Armenian, in Upper Phrygia, were martyred 
 in the year 845, by the Saracens, the circumstances of which trans- 
 action are as follows : 
 
 In the reign of Theophilus, the Saracens ravaged many parts of the 
 eastern empire, gained several considerable advantages over the 
 
ALPHAGE. 79 
 
 Christians, took the city of Armonian, and numbers sufifered mar- 
 tyrdom. 
 
 Flora and Mary, two ladies of distinction, suffered martyrdom at 
 the same time. 
 
 Perfectus was born at Corduba, in Spain, and brought up in the 
 Christian faith. Having a quick genius, he made himself master of 
 all the useful and polite literature of that age ; and at the same time 
 was not more celebrated for his abilities than admired for his piety. 
 At length he took priest's orders, and performed the duties of his of- 
 fice with great assiduity and punctuality. Publicly declaring Maho- 
 met an impostor, he was sentenced to be beheaded, and was accord- 
 ingly executed, A. D. 850 ; after which his body was honourably in- 
 terred by the Christians. 
 
 Adalbert, bishop of Prague, a Bohemian by birth, after being in- 
 volved in many troubles, began to direct his thoughts to the conver- 
 sion of the infidels, to which end he repaired to Dantzic, where he 
 converted and baptized many, which so enraged the pagan priests, 
 that they fell upon him, and despatched him with darts, on the 23d 
 of April, A. D. 997. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES, FROM THE ELEVENTH TO THE 
 SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS IN THE ELEVENTH CENTURY. 
 
 Account of Archhisliop AlpTiage. 
 
 Alphage, archbishop of Canterbury, came from a considerable 
 family in Gloucestershire, and received an education suitable to his 
 birth. His parents were Christians, and Alphage inherited all their 
 virtues. He was prudent, humble, pious, and chaste ; and made ra- 
 pid progress both in polite literature and theological learning. In 
 order to be more at leisure to contemplate the beauties of divine his- 
 tory, he determined to renounce his fortune, quit his home, and be- 
 come a recluse. He accordingly retired to a monastery of Benedic- 
 tines, at Deerhurst, in Gloucestershire, and soon after took the habit. 
 Here he lived with the utmost temperance, and spent the greatest 
 part of his time in prayer. But not thinking the austerities he under- 
 went in this monastery sufliciently severe, he retired to a lonely cell, 
 near Bath, and lived in a manner still more rigid ; but some devout 
 persons finding out his retreat, his austere life soon became the sub- 
 ject of conversation in the neighbouring villages, whence many flocked 
 
80 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 to him, and begged to be taken under his pastoral care. Consenting 
 to their importunities, he raised a monastery near his cell, by contri- 
 butions of several well-disposed persons ; formed his new pupils into 
 a community, and placed a prior over them. Having prescribed 
 rules for their regulation, he again retired to his cell, fervently wish- 
 ing to pass the remainder of his days in religious security ; when the 
 following affair again drew him from his retreat. 
 
 The see of Winchester being vacant by the death of Ethelwold, a 
 dispute arose respecting a successor to that bishopric. The clergy 
 had been driven out of the cathedral for their scandalous lives, but 
 were admitted again by king Ethelred, upon certain terms of refor- 
 mation. The monks, who had been introduced upon their expulsion, 
 looked upon themselves as the chapter of that church ; and hence 
 arose a violent contest between them and the clergy who had been 
 re-admitted, about the election ©f a bishop ; while both parties were 
 vigorously determined upon supporting their own man. This dispute 
 at last ran so high, that Dunstan, archbishop of Canterbury, as primate 
 of all England, was obliged to interpose, and he consecrated Alphage 
 to the vacant bishopric, to the general satisfaction of all concerned in 
 the election. 
 
 The behaviour of Alphage was a proof of his being equal to the 
 dignity of his vocation. Piety flom'ished in his diocese ; unity was 
 established among his clergy and people ; and the conduct of the 
 church of Winchester made the bishop the admiration of the whole 
 kingdom. Dunstan had an extraordinary veneration for Alphage, 
 and v/hen at the point of death, made it his ardent request to God, 
 that he might succeed him in the see of Canterbury ; which accord- 
 ingly happened, though not till about eighteen years after Dunstan's 
 death. In the course of that period, the metropolitan church was go- 
 verned by three successive prelates ; the last of whom was Alfric ; 
 upon whose decease, in 1006, Alphage was raised to the see of Can- 
 terbury. The people belonging to the diocese of Winchester, were 
 too sensible of the loss they sustained by his translation, not to re- 
 gret his removal to Canterbuiy. 
 
 Soon after he was made archbishop, he went to Rome, and recei- 
 ved the pall from Pope John XVIII. 
 
 When Alphage had governed the see of Canterbury about four 
 years with great reputation, the Danes made an incursion into Eng- 
 land. Ethelred, who then reigned, was a prince of a very weak 
 mind, and pusillanimous disposition. Being afraid to face the enemy 
 himself, and too irresolute to furnish others with the means of acting, 
 he suffered his country to be ravaged with impunity, and the greatest 
 depredations to be committed by the enemy. 
 
 Upon this occasion, the Archbishop Alphage acted with great reso- 
 lution and humanity ; he went boldly to the Danes, purchased the 
 freedom of several whom they had made captives ; found means to 
 send food to others, Avhom he"had not money enough to redeem, and 
 even made converts of some of the Danes ; but the latter circumstance 
 made the Danes, who still continued pagans, greater enemies to him 
 than they would otherwise have been, and they were determined to 
 be revenged on him. Edric, an English malcontent and traitor, gave 
 the Danes every encouragement, and assisted them in laying siege to 
 Canterbury. When the design of attacking that city was known, many 
 
Peter Waldo appealing to the Bible. Page 84. 
 
 S lor m big- of Bezieres. Page 90. 
 
 Cruelties practised in France. Page 98-99. 
 
STANISLAUS. gj 
 
 of the principal people made a precipitous flight from it, and would 
 have persuaded Alphage to follow their example; but he would not 
 listen to such a proposal ; assured them he could not think of abandon- 
 ing his flock at a time when hia presence Avas more necessary than 
 ever, and was resolved to hazard his life in their defence. While he 
 was employed in assisting his people, Canterbury was taken by storm ; 
 ihe enemy poured into the town, and destroyed all that came in their 
 way. The monks endeavoured to detain the archbishop in the ehurch, 
 where they hoped he might be safe. But his concern for his flock 
 made him break from them, and run into the midst of the danger. On 
 this occasion he addressed the enemy, begging the people might be 
 saved, and that he alone might be their victim. The barbarians sei- 
 zed him, tied his hands, insulted and abused him, and obliged him to 
 remain on the spot till his church was burnt, and the monks massa- 
 cred. They then decimated all the inhabitants, both ecclesiastics and 
 laymen, leaving only every tenth person alive ; so that they put 7236 
 persons to death, and left only four monks and 800 laymen alive ; af- 
 ter which they confined the archbishop in a dungeon, where they kept 
 him for several months. During his confinement, they proposed to 
 him to purchase his liberty with the sum of 3000Z. and to persuade the 
 king to procure their departure out of the kingdom with a farther sum 
 of 10,000Z. Alphage's circumstances not allowing him to satisfy the 
 exorbitant demand, they bound him and put him to severe torments, 
 to oblige him to discover the treasures of his church. But he remain- 
 ing inflexible ; they remanded him to prison again, confined him six 
 days longer, and then taking him with them to Greenwich, brought 
 him to trial. Here he exhorted them to forsake their idolatry, and 
 embrace Christianity. This so enraged them, that the soldiers drag- 
 ged him out of the camp, and beat him unmercifully. Alphage bore 
 this treatment patiently, and even prayed for his persecutors. One of 
 the soldiers, who had been converted and baptized by him, was great- 
 ly afilicted that his pains should be so lingering, as he knew his death 
 was determined on : he, therefore, in a kind of barbarous compassion, 
 cut ofl:" his head, and thus put the finishing stroke to his martyrdom. 
 This happened on April 19, A. D. 1012, on the very spot where the 
 church of Greenwich, which is dedicated to him, now stands. After 
 his death, his body was thrown into the Thames, but being found the 
 next day, it was buried in the cathedral of St. Paul's, by the bishops of 
 London and Lincoln : from whence it was, in the year 1023, removed 
 to Canterbury, by ^Ethelnoth, archbishop of that province. 
 
 Stanislaus. 
 
 Stanislaus, bishop of Cracow, was of an illustrious family. The 
 piety of his parents was equal to their opulence ; and they rendered 
 their wealth subservient to all the purposes of benevolence. Stanis- 
 latis was their only child ; he possessed a penetrating genius, reten- 
 tive memory and solid understanding ; hence study became his 
 amusement. His disposition was not inferior to his abilities : and he 
 voluntarily gave himself, in the dawn of youth, to such austerities as 
 might have acquired reputation for a hermit. In process of time, he 
 was sent to a seminary of learning in Poland, and afterwards to the 
 ' university of Paris ; here he remained several years, and then re- 
 turned to his own country, where, on the demise of his parents, he be 
 
 11 
 
82 BOOK OF MARTVRS. 
 
 tame possessed of a large fortune, of which he devoted the greater 
 part to charitable uses. His views were now solely directed to the 
 ministry; but he remained for some time undetermined whether he 
 should embrace a monastic life, or engage among the secular clergy.^ 
 He was at length persuaded to the latter, by Lambert Zula, bishop of 
 Cracow, who gave him holy orders, and made him a canon of his ca- 
 thedral. In this capacity he lived in a most exemplary manner, and 
 performed his duties with unremitting assiduity. Lambert was charm- 
 ed with the many virtues which so particularly distinguished Stanis- 
 laus, and would fain have resigned his bishopric to htm, alleging as a 
 reason, his great age, but Stanislaus absolutely refused to accept of 
 the see, for the contrary reason, viz. his want of years ; as being 
 then only 36 years old, he deemed that too early a time of life for a 
 man to undertake the important care of a diocese. Lambert, how- 
 ever, made him his substitute upon various occasions, and dying on 
 November 25, 1071, all concerned in the choice of a successor de- 
 clared for Stanislaus ; but he declined the acceptance for the same 
 reason as before. At length , the king, clergy, and nobility, unani- 
 mously joined in writing to Pope Alexander II. who, at their entrea- 
 ty, sent an express order that Stanislaus should accept the bishopric. 
 He then obeyed, and exerted himself to the utmost in improving his 
 flock. He was equally careful with respect both to clergy and laity, 
 kept a list of all the poor in his diocese, and by feeding the hungry, 
 clothing the naked, and administering remedies to the sick, he pro- 
 ved himself not only the godly pastor, but the physician and benefac- 
 tor of the people. 
 
 Bolislaus the second, king of Poland, had many good qualities, but 
 giving way too much to his passions, he committed many enormities, 
 till from being deemed a good king, he at last acquired the appella- 
 tion of CRUEL. The nobility were shocked at his conduct, and the 
 clergy saw his proceedings with grief; but Stanislaus alone had the 
 courage to tell him of his faults. The king was greatly exasperated 
 at this freedom ; but awed by the virtues of the- bishop, he dissembled 
 his resentment, and appearing to be convinced of his errors, promised 
 to reform his conduct. He, soon after, attempting the chastity of a 
 married lady, who rejected his offers with disdain, violated her by 
 force. This iniquitous act greatly incensed the nobility ; they as- 
 sembled, and, calling the clergy to their assistance, entreated Peter, 
 archbishop of Gresne, to remonstrate to the king on the impropriety 
 of his conduct. The archbishop, however, declined the task ; for 
 though virtuous, he was timid. Several other prelates imitated his 
 example, and Stanislaus was, as before, the only one who had cour- 
 age and zeal sufficient to perform what he looked upon as an indispen- 
 sable duty. He, therefore, put himself at the head of a number of 
 ecclesiastics, noblemen, and gentlemen, and solemnly addressed the 
 king on the heinousness of his crime. Bolislaus, violently irritated, 
 threatened the prelate with his severest vengeance ; but Stanislaus, 
 unintimidated by his menaces, visited him twice more, and remon- 
 strated with him in a similar manner, which increased his wrath. 
 
 The nobility and clergy, finding that the admonitions of the bishop 
 had not the desired effect upon the king, thought proper to interpose. 
 The nobility entreated the bishop to refrain from any further exaspe- 
 rating a monarch of so ferocious a temper ; and the clergy endea 
 
PERSECUTIONS OP THE WALDENSES. g^ 
 
 voured to persuade the king not to be offended with Stanislaus forhia 
 charitable remonstrances. But the haughty sovereign determined at 
 any rate to get rid of a prelate, who, in his opinion, was too censo- 
 rious ; and hearing that the bishop was alone, in the chapel of St. 
 Michael, at a small distance from the town, he despatched some sol- 
 diers to murder him. The men readily undertook the task; but 
 when they came into the presence of Stanislaus, the venerable aspect 
 of the prelate struck them with such awe, that they could not per- 
 form what they had promised. On their return, the king, finding they 
 had not obeyed his orders, snatched a dagger from one of them, and 
 ran furiously to the chapel, where, finding Stanislaus at the altar, he 
 plunged the weapon into his heart. This took place on the 8th of 
 May, A. D. 1079. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS OF THE WALDENSES IN FRANCE. 
 
 Before this time the church of Christ was tainted with many of the- 
 errors of popery, and superstition began to predominate ; but a few, . 
 who perceived the pernicious tendency of such errors, determined to 
 show the light of the gospel in its real purity, and to disperse those 
 clouds which artful priests had raised about it, in order to delude the 
 people. The principal of these worthies was Berengarius, who, about 
 the year 1000, boldly preached gospel truths according to their pri- 
 mitive purity. Many, from conviction, went over to his doctrine, 
 and were, on that account, called Berengarians. Berengarius M'^as 
 succeeded by Peter Bruis, who preached at Toulouse, under the pro- 
 tection of an earl, named Hildephonsus ; and the whole tenets of the 
 reformers, with the reasons of their separation from the church of- 
 Rome, were published in a book written by Bruis under the title of' 
 Antichrist. 
 
 In the year 1140, the number of the reformed was very great, and 
 the probability of their increasing alarmed the pope, who wrote to 
 several princes to banish them from their dominions, and employed:, 
 many learned men to write against them. 
 
 In 1147, Henry of Toulouse, being deemed their most eminent 
 preacher, they were called Henricians ; and as they would not admit 
 of any proofs relative to religion but what coiild be deduced from the 
 scriptures themselves, the popish party gave them the name of Apos- 
 tolics. Peter Waldo, or Valdo, a native of Lyons, at this time be- 
 came a strenuous opposer of popery ; and from him the reformed re- 
 ceived the appellation of Waldoys, or "Waldenses. Waldo was a man 
 eminent for his learning and benevolence ; and his doctrines were 
 adopted by multitudes. The bishop of Lyons taking umbrage at the 
 freedom with which he treated the pope and the Romish clergy, sent 
 to admonish him to refrain in future from such discourses ; but Wal- 
 do answered, " That he could not be silent in a cause of such im- 
 portance as the salvation of men's souls ; wherein he must obey God 
 rather than man." 
 
04 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Accusations of Peter Waldo against Popery. 
 
 His principal accusations against the Roman Catholics were, that 
 they affirm the church of Rome to be the only infallible church of 
 Christ upon earth ; and that the pope is its head, and the vicar of 
 Christ ; that they hold the absurd doctrine of transubstantiation, in- 
 sisting that the bread and wine given in the sacrament is the very 
 identical body and blood of Christ which was nailed to the cross ; that 
 they believe there is a place called purgatory, where the souls of 
 persons, after this life, are purged from the sins of mortality, and that 
 the pains and penalties here inflicted may be abated according to the 
 masses said by and the money paid to the priests ; that they teach, 
 the communion of one kind, or tlie receiving, the wafer only, is suffi- 
 cient for the lay people, though the clergy must be indulged with 
 both bread and wine ; that they pray to the Virgin Mary and saints, 
 though their prayers ought to be immediately to God ; that they pray 
 for souls departed, though God decides their fate immediately on the 
 decease of the person ; that they will not perform the service of the 
 church in a language imderstood by the people in general ; that they 
 place their devotion in the number of prayers, and not in the intent 
 of the heart; that they forbid marriage to the clergy, though God 
 allowed it ; and that they use many things in baptism, though Christ 
 used only water. When Pope Alexander the Third was informed of 
 these transactions, he excommunicated Waldo and his adherents, and 
 commanded the bishop of Lyons to exterminate them : thus began 
 the papal persecutions against the Waldenses. 
 
 Tenets of the Waldenses. 
 
 1. That holy oil is not to be mingled in baptism. 
 
 2. That prayers used over things inanimate are superstitious. 
 
 3. Flesh may be eaten in Lent ; the clergy may marry ; and auri- 
 cular confession is imnecessary. 
 
 4. Confirmation is no sacrament : we are not bound to pay obe- 
 dience to the pope ; ministers should live upon tithes ; no dignity 
 sets one clergyman above another, for their superiority can only be 
 drawn from real worth. 
 
 5. Images in churches are absurd ; image worship is idolatry ; the 
 pope's indulgences ridiculous ; and the miracles pretended to be done 
 by the church of Rome are false. 
 
 6. Fornication and public stews ought not to be allowed ; purga- 
 tory is a fiction ; and deceased persons, called saints, ought not to be 
 prayed to. 
 
 7. Extreme unction is not a sacrament ; and masses, indulgences, 
 and prayers, are of no service to the dead. 
 
 8. The Lord's prayer ought to be the rule of all other prayers. 
 
 f Waldo remained three years undiscovered in Lyons, though the 
 utmost diligence Avas used to apprehend him ; but at length he found 
 an opportunity of escaping from the place of his concealment to the 
 mountains of Dauphiny. He soon after found means to propagate 
 his doctrines in Dauphiny and Pieardy, Avhich so exasperated Philip, 
 king of France, that he put the latter province, which contained most 
 of the sectaries, under military execution ; destroying above 300 gen- 
 tlemen's seats, erasing some walled towns, burning many of the re 
 formed, and driving others into Flanders and Germany. 
 
PERSECUTIONS OF THE WALDENSES. 85 
 
 Notwithstanding these persecutions, the reformed religion seemed 
 to flourish ; and the Waldenses, in various parts, became more nu- 
 merous than ever. At length the pope accused them of heresy, and the 
 monks of immorality. These slanders they, however, refuted ; but the 
 pope, incensed at their increase, used all means for their extirpation; 
 such as ex^communications, anathemas, canons, constitutions, decrees, 
 &c. by which they were rendered incapable of holding places of trust, 
 honour, or profit ; their lands were seized, their goods confiscated, and 
 they were not permitted to be buried in consecrated ground. Some of 
 the Waldenses having taken refuge in Spain, Aldephonsus, king of Ar- 
 ragon, at the instigation of the pope, publised an edict, strictly order- 
 ing all Roman Catholics to persecute them wherever they could be 
 found ; and decreeing that all who gave them the least assistance 
 should be deemed traitors. 
 
 The year after this edict, Aldephonsus was severely punished by 
 the hand of Providence ; for his son Avas defeated in a great battle, 
 and 50,000 of his men slain, by which a considerable portion of his 
 kingdom fell into the hand of the Moors. 
 
 The reformed ministers continued to preach boldly against the Ro- 
 mish church ; and Peter Waldo, in par.ticular, wherever he Avent, as- 
 serted, that the pope was antichrist, that mass Avas an abomination, 
 that the host was an idol, and that purgatory Avas a fable. 
 Origin of the Inquisition. 
 
 These proceedings of Waldo, and his reformed companions, occa- 
 sioned ttie origin of inquisitors ; for Pope Innocent III. authorized cer- 
 tain monks inquisitors, to find and deliver oA^er the reformed to the 
 secular power. The monks, upon the least surmise or information, 
 gave up the reformed to the magistrate, Avho delivered them to the 
 executioner ; for the process Avas short, as accusation supplied the 
 place of evidence, and a fair trial was never granted to the accused. 
 
 Cruelties of the Pope/ and artifices of Dominic. 
 When the pope found that these cruel means had not the desired 
 effect, he determined to try others of a milder nature ; he therefore 
 sent seA'eral learned monks to preach amongst the Waldenses, and 
 induce them to change their opinions. Among these monks Avas one 
 Dominic, Avho appeared extremely zealous in the cause of popery. He 
 instituted an order, Avhich, from him, Avas called the order of Domini- 
 can friars ; and the members of this order have ever since been the 
 principal inquisitors in every country into Avhich that horrible tribunal 
 has been introduced. Their poAver was unlimited ; they proceeded 
 against Avhom they pleased, Avithout any consideration of age, sex, or 
 rank. However infamous the accusers, the accusation ^as deemed 
 valid ; and even anonymous informations Avere thought sufficient evi- 
 dence. The dearest friends or kindred could not, without danger, serve 
 anyone AvhoAvas imprisoned on account of religion; to convey to those 
 who Avere confined a little straw, or give them a cup of water, Avas 
 called favoiuing the heretics ; no lawyer dared to plead even for his 
 own brother, or notary register any thing in favour of the reformed. 
 The malice of the papists, indeed, Avent beyond the grave, and the 
 bones of many Waldenses, who had been long dead, Avere dug up and 
 burnt. If a man on his death-bed Avere accused of being a follower 
 of Waldo, his estates were confiscated, and the heir defrauded of his 
 
85 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 inheritance ; and some were even obliged to make pilgrimages to the 
 Holy Land, while the Dominicans took possession of their houses 
 and property, which they refused to surrender to the owners upon 
 their return. 
 
 Prisons filled with Christians. 
 A knight named Enraudus, being accused of embracing the opinions 
 of Waldo, was burnt at Paris A. D. 1201. About 1228, such numbers 
 of the refoi'med were apprehended, that the archbishops of Aix, Aries, 
 and Narbonne, took compassion on them, and thus expressed them- 
 selves to the inquisitors : " We hear that you have appprehended such 
 a number of Waldenses, that it is not only impossible to defray the 
 charge of their food and confinement, but to provide lime and stone 
 to build prisons for them." 
 
 Avarice and Injustice of Boralli. 
 
 In 1380, a monk inquisitor, named Francis Boralli, had a commis- 
 sion granted him by Pope Clement VII. to search for, and punish the 
 Waldenses in Aix, Ambrune, Geneva, Savoy, Orange, Aries, Vienne, 
 Avignon, &c. He went to Ambrune, and summoned all the inhabi- 
 tants to appear before him ; when those who were found to be of the 
 reformed religion, were delivered over to the secular power, and burnt; 
 and those who did not appear, were excommunicated for contumacy, 
 and had their effects confiscated. In the distribution of the effects, 
 the clergy had two thirds of the property of all who were condemned, 
 and the secular power one third. All the reformed inhabitants of the 
 other places, named in the commission of this ecclesiastic, were equal 
 sufferers. 
 
 Persecutions in Dauphiny. 
 
 In 1400, the Waldenses who resided in the valley of Pragela, were, 
 at the instigation of some priests, suddenly attacked by abody of troops, 
 who plundered their houses, murdered many, and drove others into 
 the Alps, where great numbers were frozen to death, it being in the 
 depth of winter. In 1460, a persecution was carried on in Dauphiny 
 against the Waldenses, by the archbishop of Ambrune, who employed 
 a monk, named John Vayleti, who proceeded with such violence, that 
 not only the Waldenses, but even many papists, were sufferers : for if 
 any of them expressed compassion or pity for the inoffensive people, 
 theywere accused offavouring the Waldenses, and punished. At length 
 Vayleti's proceedings became so intolerable, that a great number of 
 the papists themselves addressed a petition against him to Louis XI. 
 king of France, who granted the request of the petitioners, and sent an 
 order to the governor of Dauphiny to stop the persecution. Vayleti, 
 however, by order of the archbishop, still continued it; for, taking ad- 
 vantage of the last clause of the edict, he pretended that he did nothing 
 contrary to the king's precept, who had ordered pimishment to such as 
 affirmed any thing against the holy catholic faith. This persecution 
 at length concluded with the death of the archbishop, which hap 
 pened in 1487. 
 
 Attempts of the Pope to exterminate the Waldenses. 
 Pope Innocent VIII. in 1488, determined to persecute the Walden- 
 ses. To this end he sent Albert de Capitaneis, archdeacon of Cremo- 
 na, to Fraruce ; who, on arriving in Dauphiny, craved the assistance of 
 
PERSECUTIONS OP THE WALDENSES. 87 
 
 tlie king's lieutenant to exterminate the Waldenses from the valley of 
 Loyse : the lieutenant readily granted his assistance, and marched a 
 body of troops to the place ; but when they arrived at the valley, they 
 found that it had been deserted by the inhabitants, who had retired to 
 the mountains, and hid themselves in caverns, &.c. The archdeacon 
 and lieutenant immediately followed them with the troops, and appre- 
 hending many, they cast them headlong from the precipices, by which 
 they were dashed to pieces. Several, however, retired to the inner- 
 most parts of the caverns, and knowing the intricacies, were able to 
 conceal themselves. The archdeacon and lieutenant, not being able 
 to come at them, ordered the mouths of the caves to be filled with fag- 
 gots, which being lighted, those within were, suffocated. On search- 
 ing the caves, 400 infants were found smothered, either in their cra- 
 dles or in their mother's arms ; and, upon the whole, about 3000 men, 
 women, and children, were destroyed in- this persecution. 
 
 After this tragical work, the lieutenant and archdeacon proceeded 
 with the troops to Pragela and Frassanier, in order to persecute the 
 Waldenses in those parts. But these having heard of the fate of their 
 brethren in the valley of Loyse, thought proper to arm themselves ; 
 and by fortifying the different passes, and bravely disputing the pas- 
 sages through them, they so harrassed the troops, that the lieutenant 
 was compelled to retire without effecting his purpose. 
 
 The King of France favours the Waldenses. 
 
 In 1494, Anthony Fabri and Christopher de Salence, having a com- 
 mission to persecute the Waldenses of Dauphiny, put some to death, 
 sequestered the estates of others, and confiscated the goods of many; 
 but Louis XII. coming to the crown in 1498, the Waldenses petition- 
 ed him for a restitution of their property. The king determined to 
 have the affair impartially canvassed, and sent a commissioner of his 
 own, together with a commissary from the Pope, to make proper in- 
 quiries. The witnesses against the Waldenses having been exami- 
 ned, the innocence of these poor people evidently appeared, and the 
 king's commissioner declared, "That he only desired to be as good a 
 Christian as the worst of them." When this favourable report was made 
 to the king, he immediately gave orders that the Waldenses should 
 have their property restored to them. The archbishop of Ambrune, 
 having the greatest quantity of these poor people's goods, it was ge ■ 
 nerally imagined that he would set a laudable example to others, b}" 
 being the first to restore them. The archbishop, however, declared 
 that he would not restore any of the property, for it was incorporated 
 with, and become part of his archbishopric. He, however, with an af- 
 fectation of candour, offered to relinquish several vineyards, of which 
 he had dispossessed the Waldenses, provided the lords of Dauphiny 
 would restore all they had taken from those poor people ; but this the 
 lords absolutely refused, being as desirous of keeping their plunder as 
 the archbishop himself. 
 
 The Waldenses finding that they were not likely to recover any of 
 their property, again appealed to the king; and the monarch having 
 attended to their complaints, wrote to the archbishop ; but that artful 
 and avaricious prelate replied, " That at the commencement of the 
 persecution, the Waldenses had been excommunicated by the Pope, 
 in consequence of which their goods were distrained ; therefore, till 
 
■ si fiOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 the sentence of excommunication was taken off, which had occasioned 
 them to be seized, they could not be .restored with propriety." This 
 plea was allowed to be reasonable ; and the application was ineffectu- 
 ally made to the Pope to remove the sentence of excommunication ; 
 for the archbishop, supposing this would be the case, had used all his 
 interest at Rome to prevent the application from succeeding. 
 
 Progress of the Waldenses. 
 
 At length this sect, having spread from Dauphiny into several other 
 provinces, became very numerous in Provence. At their first arrival, 
 Provence Avas almost a desert, but by their great industry, it soon 
 abounded with corn, wine, oil, fruit, &c. The pope, by being often 
 'near them, at his seat at Avignon, heard occasionally many things 
 concerning their differing from the church t»f Rome, which greatly 
 exasperated him, and he determined to persecute them. Proceeding 
 to some extremities, under the sanction of his ecclesiastical authority 
 only, without consulting the king of France, the latter became alarm- 
 ed, and sent his master of requests and his confessor to examine into 
 the affair. On their return they reported that the Waldenses were 
 not such dangerous or bad people as they had been represented ; 
 that they lived with perfect honesty, were friendly to all, caused their 
 children to be baptised, had them taught the Lord's prayer, creed, 
 and ten commandments ; expounded the scriptures with purity, kept 
 the Lord's day sacred, feared God, honoured the king, and wished 
 well to the state. " Then," said the king, " they are much better 
 Christians than myself or my catholic subjects, and therefore they 
 shall not be persecuted." He was as good as his word, and sent or- 
 ders to stop the persecution. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS OF THE ALBIGENSES. 
 
 The Albigenses were people of the reformed religion, who inha- 
 bited the country of Albi. They were condemned on account of reli- 
 gion, in the coimcil of the Lateran, by order of Pope Alexander III. ; 
 but they increased so prodigiously, that many cities were inhabited by 
 persons only of their persuasion, and several eminent noblemen em- 
 braced their doctrines. Among the latter were Raymond, earl of 
 Toidouse, Raymond, earl of Foix, the earl of Bezicres, ifcc. The 
 Pope, at length, pretended that he wished to draw them to the Romish 
 faith by sound argument and clear reasoning, and for this end order- 
 f.ed a general disputation ; in which, however, the popish doctors were 
 entirely overcome by the argiuTients of Arnold, a reformed clergy- 
 man, whose reasonings were so strong, that they were compelled to 
 confess their force. 
 
 Persecution of the earl of Toulouse. 
 
 A friar, named Peter, having been murdered in the dominions of 
 the earl of Toulouse, the Pope made the murder a pretence to perse- 
 CTite that nobleman and his subjects. He sent persons- throughout all 
 
Inquisition in Spain. Pas^e 104. 
 
 Seizure of a 'peison by order of the Inquisition. Pao-e 105. 
 
 Procession of Criminale condemned by the Inquisition on the 
 Auto defe. Page 106. 
 
% 
 
PERSECUTIOiVS OF THE ALBIGENSES. 89 
 
 Europe, in order to raise forces to act coercively against the Albigen- 
 ses, and promised paradise to all who would assist in this war, (which 
 he termed holy,) and bear arms for forty days. The same indulgences 
 were held out to all who entered for this purpose, as to such as enga- 
 ged in crusades to the Holy Land, The pope likewise sent orders to 
 all archbishops, bishops, &c. to excommunicate the earl of Toulouse 
 every Sabbath and festival ; at the same time absolving all his sub- 
 jects from their oaths of allegiance to him, and commanding them to 
 pursue his person, possess his lands, destroy his property, and murder 
 such of his subjects as continued faithful to him. The earl of Tou- 
 louse, hearing of these mighty preparations against him, Avrote to the 
 pope in a very candid manner, desiring not to be condemned unheard, 
 and assuring him that he had not the least hand in Peter's death : for 
 that friar was killed by a gentleman, who, immediately after the mur- 
 der, lied out of his territories. But the pope, being determined on his 
 destruction, was resolved not to hear his defence : and a formidable 
 army, with several noblemen and prelate&^at the head of it, began its 
 march against the Albigenses. ^Ke earl had only the alternative to 
 oppose force by force, or submit : and as he despaired of success in 
 attempting the former, h<e determined on the latter. The pope's le- 
 gate being at Valence, the earl repaired thither, and said, " He was 
 surprised that such a number of armed men should be sent against 
 him, before the least proof of his guilt had been deduced. He there- 
 fore came voluntarily to surrender himself, armed only with the testi- 
 mony of a good conscience, and hoped that the troops would be pre- 
 vented from plundering his innocent subjects, as he thought himself 
 a sufficient pledge for any vengeance they chose to take on account of 
 the death of the friar." The legate replied, that he was very glad 
 the earl had voluntarily^surrendered : but, with respect to the propo- 
 sal, he could not pretefi/d to cojintermand the orders to the troops, un- 
 less he would, consent to deliver up seven of his best fortified castles 
 as securities for his future behaviour. At this demand the earl per- 
 ceived his error in submitting, but it was too late ; he knew himself 
 to be a prisoner, and therefore sent an order for the delivery of the 
 castles. The pope's legate had no sooner garrisoned these places, 
 than he ordered the respective governors to appear before him. 
 "When they came, he said, " That the earl of Toulouse having de- 
 livered up his castles to the pope, they must consider that they were 
 now the pope's subjects, and not the earl's ; and that they must there- 
 fore act conformably to their new allegiance." The governors were 
 greatly astonished to see their lord thus in chains, and themselves 
 compelled to act in a manner so contrary to their inclinations and con- 
 sciences- But the subsequent treatment of the earl afflicted them 
 still more ; for he was stripped nearly naked, led nine times round 
 the grave of friar Peter, and severely scourged before all the people. 
 Not content with this, the legate obliged him to swear that he would 
 be obedient to the pope during the remainder of his life, conform to 
 the church of Rome, and make irreconcilable Avar against the Albi- 
 genses ; and even ordered him, by the oaths he had newly taken, to 
 join the troops, and inspect the siege of Bezieres. But thinking this 
 too hard an injunction, he took an opportunity privately to quit the 
 army, and determined to go to the pope and relate the ill usage he had 
 received. 
 
 12 
 
90 BOOK OF MARTYIIS. 
 
 Siege of Bezieres. 
 
 The army, however, proceeded to besiege Bezieres ; and the earl 
 of Bezieres, who was governor of that city, thinking it impossible to 
 defend the place, came out, and presenting himself before the legate, 
 implored mercy for the inhabitants ; intimating, that there were as 
 many Roman catholics as Albigenses in that city. The legate replied, 
 that all excuses were useless ; the place must be delivered up at dis- 
 cretion, or the most dreadful consequences would ensue. 
 
 The earl of Bezieres returning into the city, told the inhabitants he 
 could obtain no mercy, unless the Albigenses would abj lire their reli- 
 gion, and conform to the worship of the church of Rome. The Roman 
 catholics pressed the Albigenses to comply with his request ; but the 
 Albigenses nobly answered, that they would not forsake their religion 
 for the base price of their frail life : that God was able, if he pleased, 
 to defend them ; but if he would be glorified by the confession of their 
 faith, it would be a great honour to them to die for his sake. They 
 added, that they had rather displease the pope, who could but kill their 
 bodies, than God, who could cast both body and soul into hell. On 
 this the popish party, finding their importunities ineffectual, sent their 
 bishop to the legate, beseeching him not to include them in the^x;has- 
 tisement of the Albigenses ; and representing, that the best means to 
 win the latter over to the Roman catholic persuasion, was by gentle- 
 ness, and not by rigour. The legate, upon hearing this, flew into a 
 violent passion with the bishop, and declared that, " If all the city 
 did not acknowledge their fault, they should taste of one curse with- 
 out distinction of religion, sex, or age." 
 
 Horrid Cruelties on taking the Toxon. 
 
 The inhabitants refusing to yield upon such terms, a general assault 
 was made, and the place taken by storm, when every cruelty that bar- 
 barous superstition could devise was practised ; nothing was to be 
 heard, but the groans of men, who lay weltering in their blood, the 
 lamentations of mothers, who, after being violated by the soldiery, 
 had their children taken from them, and dashed to pieces before their 
 faces. The city being fired in various parts, new scenes of confusion 
 arose ; in several places the streets were streaming with blood. 
 Those who hid themselves in their dwellings, had only the dreadful 
 alternative to remain and perish in the flames, or rush out and fall by 
 the swords of the soldiers. The bloody legate, during these infernal 
 proceedings, enjoyed the carnage, and even cried out to the troops, 
 " Kill them, kill them all ; kill man, woman, and child ; kill Roman 
 Catholics as well as Albigenses, for when they are dead the Lord 
 knows how to pick out his own." Thus the beautiful city of Bezieres 
 was reduced to a heap of ruins ; and 60,000 persons were murdered. 
 
 Courage of the Earl of Bezieres. 
 
 The earl of Bezieres and a few others made their escape, and went 
 to Carcasson, which they endeavoured to put in the best posture of 
 defence. The legate, not willing to lose an opportunity of spilling 
 blood during the forty days which the troops were to serve, led them 
 immediately against Carcasson. As soon as the place was invested, 
 a fuiioj's assault was given, but the besiegers were repulsed with great 
 iiaughter ; and upon this occasion the earl of Bezieres gave the most 
 
PERSECUTIONS OF THE ALBIGEI^ES. 9I 
 
 distinguished proof of his courage, saying, to encourage the besieged, 
 " We had better die fighting than fall into the hands of such bigotted 
 and bloody enemies." 
 
 Two miles from the city of Carcasson there was a small town of 
 the same name, which the Albigenses had liliewise fortified. The 
 legate, being enraged at the repulse he had received from the city of 
 Carcasson, determined to wreak his vengeance upon the town : the 
 next morning he made a general assault ; and, though the place was 
 bravely defended, he took it by storm, put all within it to the sword, 
 and then burnt the town. 
 
 During these transactions the king of Arragon arrived at the camp, 
 and, after paying his obedience to the legate, told him, he understood 
 the earl of Bezieres, his kinsman, was in the city of Carcasson, and 
 that, if he would grant him permission, he would go thither and en- 
 deavour to make him sensible of the duty he owed to the pope and 
 church : the legate acquiescing, the king repaired to the earl, and 
 asked him from what motives he shut himself up in that city against 
 so great an army. The earl answered, it was to defend his life, goods, 
 and subjects ; that he knew the pope, under the pretence of religion, 
 resolved to destroy his uncle, the earl of Toulouse, and himself; that 
 he saw the cruelty which they had used at Bezieres, even against the 
 priests ; and at the town of Carcasson ; and that they must look for 
 no mercy from the legate, or his army; he, therefore, rather chose 
 to die, defending himself and his subjects, than fall into the hands of 
 so inexorable an enemy as the legate ; that though he had in his city 
 some that were of another religion, yet they were such as had not 
 wronged any, were come to his succour in his greatest extremity, 
 and for their good service he was resolved not to abandon them ; that 
 his trust was in God, the defender of the oppressed ; and that he 
 would assist them against those ill advised men who forsook their 
 own homes, to burn, ravage, and murder, Avithout reason, judgment,. 
 or mercy. 
 
 Infamous Treachery of the Legate. 
 
 The king- reported to the legate what the earl had said : the legate, 
 after considering for some time, replied, " For your sake, sir, I will 
 receive the earl of Bezieres to mercy, and with him twelve others shall 
 Ue safe, and be permitted to retire with their property ; but as for the 
 rest, I am determined to have them at my discretion." This answer 
 'displeased the king ; and when the earl heard it, he absolutely refused- 
 to comply with such terms. The legate then commanded another 
 assault, but his troops were again repulsed with great slaughter, and 
 the dead bodies occasioned a stench that was exceedingly offensive 
 both to the besieged and the besiegers. The legate, vexed and alarm- 
 ed at this second disappointment, determined to act by stratagem. 
 He, therefore, sent a person, well skilled in dissimulation and artifice, 
 to the earl of Bezieres, with a seeming friendly message. The de- 
 sign was, by any means, to induce the earl to leave the city, in order 
 to have an interview with the legate ; and to this end the messenger 
 was to promise, or swear, whatever he thought proper ; for, said the 
 legate, " swear to what falsehoods you will in such a cause, I will give 
 you absolution." 
 
 This infamous plot succeeded : for the earl, believing the promises 
 made him of personal security, and crediting the solemn oaths that 
 
93 BOOK Of MARTYRS. 
 
 the perjured agent swore upon the occasion, left the city, and went 
 with him. The legate no sooner saw him, than he told him he was a 
 prisoner, and must remain so till Carcasson was surrendered, and the 
 inhabitants taught their duty to the pope. The earl, on hearing this, 
 cried out that he was betrayed, and exclaimed against the treachery of 
 the legate, and the perjury of the person he had employed. But he 
 was ordered into close confinement, and the place summoned to sur- 
 render immediately. 
 
 The people, on hearing the captivity of the earl, were thrown into 
 the utmost consternation, when one of the citizens informed the rest, 
 that he had been formerly told by some old men, that there was a very 
 capacious subterraneous passage, which led from thence to the castle 
 of Camaret, at three leagues distance. " If," continued he, " we can 
 find this passage, we may all escape before the legate can be ap- 
 prized of our flight," This information was joyfully received ; all 
 were employed to search for the passage ; and, at length, it was dis- 
 covered. Early in the evening the inhabitants began their flight, 
 taking with them their wives, children, a {ew days' provisions, and 
 such property as was most valuable and portable. They reached the 
 castle by the morning, and escaped to Arragon, Catalonia, and such 
 other places as they thought would secure them from the power of the 
 sanguinary legate. 
 
 Next morning the troops were astonished, not hearing any noise, 
 nor seeing any man stir in the city ; yet they approached the walls 
 with much fear, lest it should be but a stratagem to endanger them ; 
 but finding no opposition, they mounted the walls, crying out, that the 
 Albigenses were fled ; and thus was the city, with all the spoils, taken, 
 and the earl of Bezieres committed to prison in one of the strongest 
 towers of the castle, where he soon after died. 
 
 The legate now called all the prelates and great lords of his army 
 together, telling them, that though it was requisite there should be 
 always a legate in the army, yet it was likewise necessary that there 
 should be always a secular general, wise and valiant, to commiand in 
 all their affairs, &c. This charge was first offered to the Duke of 
 Burgogne, then to the earl of Ennevers, and, thirdly, to the earl ol 
 St. Paul ; but they all refused it. At length it was offered to Simon, 
 earl of Montfort, who, after some excuses, accepted of it. Four thou- 
 sand men were left to garrison Carcasson, and the deceased earl oi 
 Bezieres was succeeded, in title and dignity, by Earl Simon, a bigoted 
 Roman Catholic, who threatened vengeance on the Albigenses, unless 
 they conformed to the worship of the church of Rome. But the king 
 of Arragon, who was in his heart of the reformed persuasion, secretly 
 encouraged the Albigenses, and gave them hopes, that if they acted 
 with prudence, they might cast off" the yoke of the tyrannical Earl 
 Simon. They took his advice, and Mobile Simon was gone to Mont- 
 pellier, they surprised some of liis fortresses, and were successful in 
 several expeditions against his officers. 
 
 Conduct of Simon. 
 
 These proceedings so enraged Simon, that, returning from Mont 
 pellier, he collected together some forces, marched against the Albi- 
 genses, and ordered every prisoner he took to be immediately burnt ; 
 butnot succeeding in some of his enterprises, he grew disheartened, 
 
 I 
 
PERSECUTIONS OF THE ALBIGENSES. 93 
 
 and wrote to every Roman Catholic power in Europe to send him as- 
 sistance, otherwise he should not be able to hold out against the Albi- 
 genses. He soon received some succours, with which he attacked 
 the castle of Beron, and making himself master of it, ordered the eyes 
 to be put out, and the noses to be cut off, of all the garrison, one per- 
 son alone excepted, who was deprived of one eye only, that he might 
 conduct the rest to Cabaret. He then undertook the siege of Me- 
 nerbe, which, on account of the want of water, was obliged to yield 
 to him. The lord of Termes, the governor, wets put in prison, where 
 he died ; his wife, sister, daughter, and 180 others, were committed 
 to the flames. Many other castles surrendered to the forces of this 
 monster, and the inhabitants were butchered in a manner equally bar- 
 barous. 
 
 Earl of Toulouse excommunicated. 
 
 In the mean time the earl of Toulouse, by means of letters of re- 
 commendation from the king of France, was reconciled to the pope : 
 at least the pope pretended to give him remission for the death of 
 Friar Peter, and to absolve him from all other crimes he had commit- 
 ted. But the legate, by the connivance of the pope, did all he could 
 to ruin, the earl. Some altercations having passed between them, the 
 legate excommunicated the earl ; and the bishop of Toulouse, upon 
 this encouragement, sent this impudent message to the earl, " That as 
 he was an excommunicated person, he commanded him to depart the 
 city ; for an ecclesiastic could not say mass with propi'iety, while a 
 person of such a description was so near him." 
 
 Being greatly exasperated at the bishop's insolence, the earl sent 
 him an order immediately to depart from the place on pain of death. 
 This order was all the prelate wanted, as it would give him some rea- 
 son to complain of his lord. The bishop, with the canons of the ca- 
 thedral church, marched out of the city in solemn procession, bare- 
 footed and bareheaded, taking with them the cross, banner, host, &c. 
 and proceeded in that manner to tire legate's army, where they were 
 received with great respect as persecuted saints ; and the legate 
 thought this a sufficient excuse to proceed against the earl of Toulouse 
 for having, as he termed it, relapsed from the truth. He attempted to 
 get the earl into his power by stratagem, but the latter being apprized 
 of his design, escaped. The legate, enraged at this disappointment, 
 laid siege to the castle of Montferrand, which belonged to the earl, 
 and was governed by Baldwin his brother. On the first summons, 
 Baldwin not only surrendered, but abjured his religion, and turned 
 papist. This event, which severely afflicted the earl, was followed 
 by another that gave him still greater mortification ; for his old friend, 
 the king of Arragon, forsook his interest ; and agreed to give his 
 daughter in marriage to Earl Simon's eldest son : — the legate's troops 
 were then joined by the forces of Arragon, and those belonging to 
 Earl Simon, on which they jointly laid siege to Toulouse. 
 
 Successes of the Alhigenses. 
 Nevertheless, the earl determined to interrupt the besiegers by fre- 
 quent sallies. In the first attempt he met with a severe repulse ; but 
 m the second he took Simon's son prisoner, and in the third he un- 
 horsed Simon himself. After several furious assaults given by the 
 popish army, and some successful salHes of the Alhigenses, the earl of 
 
.04 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Toulouse compelled his enemies to raise the siege. In their retreat 
 they did much mischief in the countries through which they passed, 
 and put many defenceless Albigenses to death. 
 
 The earl of Toulouse now did all he could to recover the friend- 
 ship of the king of Arragon ; and as the marriage ceremony between 
 that monarch's daughter, and Simon's son, had not been performed, 
 he entreated him to- break off that match, and proposed another more 
 proper, viz. that his own eldest son and heir should wed the princess 
 of Arragon, and that by this match their friendship should be again 
 united, and more firmly cemented. His majesty was easily persuaded 
 not only to agree to this proposal, but to form a league with the prin- 
 cipal Albigenses, and to put himself as captain-general at the head of 
 their united forces, consisting of his own people, and of the troops of 
 the tearls of Toulouse, Foix, and Comminges. The papists were greatly 
 alarmed at these proceedings ; Simon sent to all parts of Europe, to 
 engage the assistance of the Roman Catholic powers, and the pope's 
 legate began hostilities by entering the dominions of the earl of Foix,. 
 and committing the most cruel depredations. 
 
 As soon as the army of Albigenses was ready, the king of Arragon 
 began his operations by laying siege to Murat, a strongly fortified 
 town near Toulouse, belonging to the Roman Catholics. Earl Si- 
 mon, by forced marches, came to the assistance of the place, at a time 
 when the king of Arragon, who kept very little discipline in his army, 
 was feasting and revelling. Simon suddenly attacked the Albigenses, 
 while they were in confusion, when the united forces of the reformed 
 were defeated, and the king of Arragon was killed. The loss of this 
 battle Avas imputed to the negligence of the king, who would have as 
 much entertainment in a camp, as if he had been securely at peace in 
 his capital. This victory made the popish commanders declare they 
 would' entirely extirpate the whole race of the Albigenses ; and Simon 
 sent an insolent message to the earls of Toulouse, Foix, and Commin- 
 ges, to deliver to him all the castles and fortresses of which they were 
 possessed. Those noblemen, instead of answering the demand, re- 
 tired to their respective territories, to put them into the best posture 
 of resistance. 
 
 Surrender of Toulouse. 
 
 Soon after, Simon marched towards the city of Toulouse, when the 
 earl of Toulouse, who had retired to Montalban, sent word to the citi- 
 zens to make the best terms they could with the Roman Catholics, as 
 he was confident they could not hold out a siege ; but he recommend- 
 ed them to preserve their hearts for him, though they surrendered 
 their persons to another. The citizens of Toulouse, upon receiving 
 this intimation, sent deputies to Simon, with offers of immediate sur- 
 render, provided the city itself, and the persons and properties of its 
 inhabitants, should be protected from devastation. These conditions 
 were agreed to, and Simon, in order to ingratiate himself at court, 
 wrote a letter to Prince Louis, the son of Philip, king of France, in- 
 forming him that the city of Toulouse had offered to surrender to him; 
 but being v/illing that the prince should have the honour of receiving 
 the keys, and the homage of the people, he begged that he would re- 
 pair to the camp for that purpose. The prince, pleased with the invi- 
 tation, went directly to the army, and had the city of Toulouse surren- 
 
PERSECUTIONS OF THE ALBIGENSES. gg 
 
 ■<iered to him In form. The pope's legate, however, was greatly dis- 
 pleased at the mild conditions granted to the people, and insisted, that 
 though the prince might take upon him the sovereignty of the place, 
 and receive the homage of the people, yet the plunder belonged to the 
 holy pilgrim,s, (for so the popish soldiers employed in these expeditions 
 were called ;) and that the place, as a receptacle of heretics, ought 
 to be dismantled. The prince and Earl Simon in vain re^ionstrated 
 against proceedings so contrary to the conditions granted at the sur- 
 render : the legate was peremptory, when Earl Simon and the prince, 
 unwilling to come to an open rupture with him, gave up the point. 
 The legate immediately set his holy pilgrims to work, when they pre- 
 sently dismantled the city, and plundered the inhabitants of all their 
 property, in defiance of the security graiited to them by the articles 
 of the surrender. 
 
 Dispute between the Legate and the Prince. 
 
 Now the legate finding that among the Albigenses were many lu- 
 crative places which would fall to the disposal of the prince, determin- 
 ed, by an artifice, to deprive him of any advantage which might ac- 
 crue from them ; to this end, he gave absolution to the Albigenses, 
 which, though they had not in the least changed their religious opi- 
 nions, he called reconciling them lo the church. The prince, not ap- 
 prised of this stratagem, was about to give his ofiicers possession of 
 some places of profit ; Avhen, to his great astonishment, the legate in- 
 formed him, that he had no power to dispose of those places. The 
 prince demanded an explanation of his meaning. " My meaning," 
 replied the legate, " is, that the people have received absolution, and 
 being reconciled to, are consequently under the protection of the 
 church ; therefore, all places among, or connected with them, are in 
 the disposal of the church only." 
 
 The prince, offended at this mode of reasoning, and highly dis- 
 pleased at the meanness of the subterfuge, nevertheless thought pro- 
 per to dissemble his resentment. But being determined to quit the 
 legate, he put the troops that were under his command in motion, and 
 marched to attack some other fortresses; but he found, wherever he 
 came, that the legate had played the same trick, and plainly perceived, 
 if he continued his military operations, that when unsuccessful, he 
 should bear all the blame, and when successful, the legate would 
 steal all the profit ; he therefore left the army in disgust, and return- 
 ed to court. 
 
 Defeat of Earl Simon. 
 
 On this. Earl Simon, with liis own forces, those the prince had just 
 quitted, and some other auxiliaries, undertook the siege of Foix, being 
 chiefly provoked to it by the death of his brother, who was slain by 
 the earl of Foix. He lay before the castle of Foix for ten days, dur- 
 ing which time he frequently assaulted it, but was as often repulsed. 
 Hearing that an army of Arragonese were in full march towards him, 
 in order to revenge the death of their king, he raised the siege, and 
 went to meet them. The earl of Foix innnediately sallied out and 
 harrassed his rear, and the Arragonese attacking his front, gave him 
 a total defeat, which compelled him to shut himself up in Carcasson. 
 
 Soon afterwards, the pope's legate called a council at Montpellier, 
 
90 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 for renewing the military operations against the Albigenses, and for 
 doing proper honour to Earl Simon, who was present ; for the Arra- 
 gonese, not taking advantage of their victory, had neglected to block 
 up Carcasson,,by which omission Simon had an opportunity of repair- 
 ing to Montpellier. On meeting the coimcil, the legate, in the pope's 
 name, paid many compliments to Simon, and declared, that he should 
 be prince of all the countries that might in future be taken from the 
 Albigenses : at the same time, by order of the pontiff, he styled him 
 " the active a'nd dexterous soldier of Jesus Christ, and the invincible 
 defender of the Catholic faith." But just as the earl was about to 
 return thanks for these great honours and fine encomiums, a messen- 
 ger brought word that the people having heard Earl Simon was in the 
 council, had taken up arms, and were coming thither to destroy him 
 as a common disturber. This intelligence threw the whole council 
 into great confusion ; and Earl Simon, though a minute before styled 
 an invincible defender of the faith, jumped out of the window, and stole 
 away from the city. 
 
 Council of Lateran. 
 The disputes becoming serious, according to the opinion of the pa- 
 pists, the pope himself soon after called a council, to be held at Late- 
 ran, in which great powers were granted to Roman Catholic inqusi- 
 tors, and many Albigenses were immediately put to death. This 
 council of Lateran likewise confirmed to Earl Simon all the honours 
 intended him by the council of Montpellier, and empowered him to 
 raise another army against the Albigenses. Earl Simon immediately 
 repaired to court, received his investiture from the French king, and 
 began to levy forces. Having now a considerable number of troops, 
 he determined, if possible, to exterminate the Albigenses, when he 
 received advice, that his countess was besieged in Narbonne by the 
 earl of Toulouse. He proceeded to the relief of his wife, when the 
 Albigenses met him, gave him battle, and defeated him ; but he found 
 means to escape and get into the castle of Narbonne. 
 
 Recovery of Toulouse by the Albigenses. 
 After this, Toulouse was recovered by the Albigenses ; but the 
 pope espousing Earl Simon's cause, raised forces for tim, and enabled 
 him once more to undertake the siege of that city. The earl assault- 
 ed the place furiously, but being repulsed with great loss, he seemed 
 sunk in affliction : when the pope's legate said, to comfort him, " Fear 
 nothing, my lord, make another vigorous attack ; let us by any means 
 recover the city, and destroy the inhabitants ; and those of our men 
 who are slain in the fight, I will assure you, shall immediately pass 
 into paradise." One of the earl's principal officers, on hearing this, 
 said with a sneer, "Monsieur cardinal, you talk with great assurance; 
 but if the earl believes you, he will, as heretofore, pay dearly for his 
 confidence." Earl Simon, however, took the legate's advice, made 
 another assault, and was again repulsed. To complete his misfor- 
 tune, before the troops could recover from their confusion, the earl of 
 Foix made his appearance at the head of a formidable body of forces, 
 attacked the already dispirited army of Earl Simon, and easily put them 
 to the route ; when the earl himself narrowly escaped drowning in 
 the Garronne, into which he had hastily plunged, in order to avoid 
 being captured. This miscarriage almost broke his heart; but the 
 
PERSECUTIONS OP THE ALBIGENSES. jjf 
 
 pope's legate continued to encourage him, and offered to raise another 
 army, which promise, with some difficulty, and three years delay, he 
 at length performed, and that bigoted nobleman was once more ena- 
 bled to take the field. On this occasion he turned his whole force 
 against Toulouse, which he besieged for the space of nine months, 
 when in one of the sallies made by the besieged, his horse was wound- 
 ed. The animal being in great anguish, ran away with him, and bore 
 him directly under the ramparts of the city, when an archer shot him 
 in the thigh with an arrow ; and a woman immediately after throwing 
 a large stone from the wall, it struck him upon the head, and killed 
 him ; thus were the Albigenses, like the Israelite^, delivered by the 
 hand of a woman ; and thus this atrocious monster, who had so long 
 persecuted the people of God, Avas at length himself slain by one of 
 those whom he had intended to have slaughtered if he had been suc- 
 cessful. The siege was raised ; but the legate, enraged to be disap- 
 pointed of his vengeance on the inhabitants, engaged the king of 
 France in the cause, who sent his son to besiege it. The French 
 prince, with some chosen troops, furiously assaulted Toulouse ; but 
 meeting with a severe repulse, he abandoned that city to besiege Mi- 
 I'omand. This place he soon took by storm, and put to the sword 
 all the inhabitants, consisting of 5000 men, women, and children. 
 
 The bloodthirsty legate, whose name was Betrand, being very old, 
 grew weary of following the army ; but his passion for murder still 
 remained, as appears by his epistle to the pope, in which he begs to 
 be recalled on account of age and infirmities ; but entreats the pon- 
 tiff to appoint a successor, who might carry on the war, as he had 
 done, with spirit and perseverance. In consequence, the pope recalled 
 Betrand, and appointed Conrade, bishop of Portua, to be legate in 
 his room. The latter determined to follow the steps of his predeces- 
 sor, and to persecute the Albigenses with the greatest severity. Gui- 
 do, earl of Montfort, the son and heir of Earl Simon, undertook the 
 command of the troops, and immediately laid siege to Toulouse, before 
 the walls of which he was killed. His brother Almeric succeeded to 
 the command, but the bravery of the garrison soon- obliged him to 
 raise the siege. On this the legate prevailed upon the king of France 
 to undertake the siege of Toulouse in person, and reduce to the obe- 
 dience of the church those obstinate heretics, as he called the brave 
 Albigenses- The earl of Toulouse, hearing of the great preparations 
 made by the king of France, sent the women, children, cattle, <&c. 
 into secret and secure places in the mountains, ploughed up the land, 
 that Ihe king's forces should not obtain any forage, and did all that a 
 skilful general could perform to distress the enemy. By these wise 
 regulations, the French army, soon after entering the earldom of Tou- 
 louse, suffered all the extremities of famine, which obliged the troops 
 to feed on the carcasses of horses, dogs, cats, &.c, which unwhole- 
 some food produced the plague. The king died of grief; but bis 
 son, who succeeded him, determined to carry on the war ; he we s, 
 however, defeated in three engagements, by the earl of Toulouse. 
 The king, the queen-mother, and three archbishops, again raised a 
 formidable -army, and had the art to persuade the earl of Toulouse to 
 come to a conference, when he was treacherously seized upon, made a 
 prisoner, forced to appear barefooted and bareheaded before his ene- 
 mies, and compelled to subscribe the following ignominious conii- 
 
 13 
 
98 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 tions : 1. That he should abjure the faith that he had hitherto defended 
 2. That he should be subject to the church of Rome. 3. That jhe 
 should give his daughter Joan in marriage to one of the brothers of 
 the king of France. 4. That he should maintain in Toulouse six 
 popish professors of the liberal arts, and two grammarians. 5. That 
 he should take upon him the cross, and serve five years against the 
 Saracens in the Holy Land. 6. That he should level the walls of 
 Toulouse with the ground. 7. That he should destroy the walls and 
 fortifications of thirty of his other cities and castles, as the legate 
 should direct. 8. That he should remain prisoner at Paris till his 
 daughter was delivered to the king's commissioners. After these 
 cruel conditions,,a severe persecution took place against the Albigen- 
 ses, many of whom suffered for the faith : and express orders were 
 issued, that the laity should not he permitted to read the sacred writings ! 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS IN FRANCE, PREVIOUS TO, AND DURING THE CIVIL 
 WARS OF THAT NATION. 
 
 In the year 1524, at a town in France called Melden, one John 
 Clark affixed a bill on the church door, in which he called the pope An- 
 tichrist : for this oflfence he was repeatedly whipped, and then branded 
 in the forehead. His mother, who saw the chastisement, cried with 
 a loud voice, " Blessed be Christ, and welcome these marks for his 
 sake." He went afterwards to Metz, in Lorraine, and demolished 
 some images, for which he had his right hand and nose cut off", and 
 his arms and breast torn by pincers *, while suffering these cruelties, he 
 sang the 115th psalm, which expressly forbids superstition. On con- 
 cluding the psalm, he was thrown into the fire and burnt to ashes. 
 
 About the same time several persons of the reformed persuasion 
 were beaten, racked, scourged, and burnt to death, in several parts of 
 France ; but particularly at Paris, Limosin, and Malda. 
 
 A native of Malda was burnt by a slow fire for saying that mass was 
 a plain denial of the death and passion of Christ. At Limosin, 
 John de Cadurco, a clergyman of the reformed religion, was appre- 
 hended, degraded, and ordered to be burnt. When under examina- 
 tion, a friar undertook to preach a sermon upon the occasion; when 
 opening the New Testament, he pitched upon this text, in the first epis- 
 tle of St. Paul to Timothy, chap. iv. ver. 1. " Now the spirit speak- 
 eth expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith, 
 giving heed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils." The friai 
 began to expound this verse in favour of the Roman Catholic persua- 
 sion, and in condemnation of the reformed religion, when John de 
 Cadurco begged, that befo;:e he proceeded in his sermon, he would 
 read the two verses which folloAved his text : — the friar again opened 
 the Testament, but on casting his eye on the passage, he appeared 
 confounded. Cadurco then desired that the book might be handed to 
 him; this request being complied with, he read thus, " Speaking lies 
 in hypocrisy, having their conscience seared with a hot iron, forbid- 
 ding to marry, and commanding to abstain from meats, which God 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN FRANCE. 99 
 
 hath created to be received with thanksgiving of them which believe 
 and know the truth." The Roman Catholics, irritated at this expo- 
 sure, condemned him to the flames. 
 
 At Paris, Alexander Kanus, a clergyman, was burnt in a slow fire ; 
 and four men were committed to the flames for distributing papers 
 which ridiculed the saying of mass. One had his tongue bored through 
 for ridiculing the Romish superstitions. Peter Gaudet, a Genoese, 
 was burnt on the accusation of his own uncle, a bigoted Roman 
 Catholic ; and John Pointer, a surgeon, had his tongue cut out, and 
 was then burnt. 
 
 Martyrdom at Arras, SfC. 
 
 ^,A4i^s, Fontanis, and Rutiers, many were martyred for being of 
 the reformed religion ; at the latter place, in particular, one Stephen 
 Brune was condemned to be burnt for refusing to attend mass. When 
 the fire was kindled, the flames were driven from him by a brisk wind, 
 which occasioned the executioner to heap more faggots round him, 
 and pour oil on them. Still, however, the wind blew the flames in a 
 contrary direction, when the executioner was absurdly enraged Avith 
 Brune, and struck him on the head ; but Brune, very calmly said, 
 " As I am condemned only to be burnt, why do you strike me like a 
 dog ?" This expression so greatly enraged the executioner, that he 
 ran him through with a pike, and then burnt the lifeless body. 
 
 Aymond de Lavoy, a minister of Bourdeaux, had a complaint lodged 
 against him by the Romish clergy of that city. His friends advised 
 him to abscond, but he refused. He remained nine months in prison. 
 Being then brought to trial, he was ordered to be racked; and when 
 in the extremity of torture, he comforted himself with this expression : 
 " This body must once die, but the soul shall live ; for the kingdom 
 of God endureth for ever." At length he swooned ; but on recovering, 
 he prayed for his persecutors. The question was then put to him, 
 whether he would embrace the Roman Catholic persuasion ; which 
 positively refusing, he was condemned to be burnt. At the place of 
 execution he said, " O Lord, make haste to help me ; tarry not ; des- 
 pise not the work of thy hands." And perceiving some who used to 
 attend his sermons, he addressed them thus : " My friends, I exhort 
 you to study and learn the gospel ; for the word of God abideth for- 
 ever : — labour to know the will of God, and fear not them that kill 
 the body, but have no power over the soul." The executioner then 
 strangled him, and burnt his body afterwards. 
 
 Husson, an apothecary of Blois, went to Rouen, and there privately 
 distributed several small pamphlets, explaining the tenets of the re- 
 formed church, and exposing the Romish superstitions. These books 
 gave a general alarm, and a council being called, an order was issued 
 for search to be made for the author- and distributor. It was disco- 
 vered that Husson had brought them to Rouen, and that he had gone to 
 Dieppe, and orders were given to pursue him. He was brought back 
 to Rouen, where he confessed he was both author and distributor of 
 the hooks. This occasioned his condemnation, and he was executed 
 in the following manner : his tongue being cut out, his hands and feet 
 were tied behind, and he was drawn up by a pulley to a gibbet, and 
 then let down into a fire kindled beneath ; in which situation he 
 called upon the Lord, and soon breathed his last 
 
100 ■ . BOOK OF MARTYRS 
 
 Francis Bribard, secretary to cardinal de Bellay, for speaking in fai- 
 vour of the reformed, had his tongue cut out, and was burnt, A. D. 
 1544. James Cobard, a schoolmaster in the city of St. Michael, was 
 burnt, A. D. 1545, for saying the mass was useless and absurd ; and 
 about the same time, fourteen men were burnt at Malda, their wives 
 being compelled to behold their martyrdom. 
 
 Peter Chapot brought a number of Bibles in the French tongue to 
 France, and publicly sold them there in the year 1546, for which he 
 was condemned to be burnt ; as, soon after, were a cripple of Meaux, 
 a schoolmaster of Fera, named Stephen Polliot, and a man named 
 John English. •> 
 
 Numerous Martyrdoms. 
 
 Michael Michelot being told either to recant and be beheaded, or 
 to persevere and be burned, chose the latter, making use of these 
 words : " God has given me grace not to deny the truth, and will give 
 me strength to endure the fire." About the same time many were burnt 
 at Paris, Bar, &c. ; and at Langres five men and two women suffered 
 for being of the reformed religion; when the youngest women encour- 
 aged the other, saying, "This day shall we be married to Jesus Christ, 
 and be with him for ever." 
 
 Monsieur Blondel, a rich jeweller, was, in 1549, apprehended at 
 Lyons, and sent to Paris, where he suffered death for the faith. 
 Hubert, a youth of nineteen years of age, was committed to the flames 
 at Dijon ; as was Florent Venote, at the same time. 
 
 A lady, named Ann Audebert, who designed, on account of her faith, 
 to retire to Geneva, was seized and sent to Paris. She was led to 
 execution by a rope placed round her waist. This rope she called her 
 wedding girdle ; and said, " I was once married to a man on a Satur- 
 day, and now I shall be married to God on the same day of the week." 
 
 Shortly after the coronation of Henry the Second, a tailor was ap- 
 prehended for working on a saint's day ; being asked why he gave 
 such an offence to religion, his reply was, " I am a poor man, and have 
 nothing but my labour to depend upon ; necessity requires that I should 
 be industrious, and my conscience tells me there is no day but the 
 Sabbath which I ought to keep sacred from labour. Having expressed 
 himself thus, he was committed to p'rison, and the affair being soon 
 after rumoured at court, some of the nobles persuaded the king to be 
 present at the ti 'al. On the day appointed, the monarch appeared in 
 a superb chair ot state, and the bishop of Mascon was ordered to in- 
 terrogate the prisoner. The tailor, on perceiving the king, paid his 
 obedience to him in the most respectful manner. The king was much 
 affected with his arguments, and seemed to muse ; on which the bishop 
 exclaimed, " He is an obstinate and impudent heretic ; let him be 
 - taken back to prison and burnt to death." The prisoner was accord- 
 ingly conveyed to prison ; and the bishop artfully insinuated, that the 
 heretics, as he called the reformed, had many specious arguments, 
 which at first hearing, appeared conclusive ; but on examination, they 
 were found to be false. He then endeavoured to persuade the king to 
 be present at the execution, who at length consented, and repaired to 
 a balcony which overlooked the place. On seeing the king, the tailor 
 fixed his eyes steadfastly upon him, and even while the ffames were 
 eonsuminpf him. kept gazing in such a manner, as threw the monarch 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN FRANCE. 1^1 
 
 into visible confusion, and obliged him to retire before the martyr was 
 dead. He was so much shocked, that he could not recover his spirits 
 for some time ; and what added to his disquiet was, his continually 
 dreaming, for many nights, that he saw the tailor with his eyes fixed 
 upon him, in the same manner as during the execution. 
 
 A pious man, named Claudius, was burnt at Orleans ; a Genoese 
 youth, called Thomas, having rebuked a Roman Catholic for profane- 
 ly swearing, was informed against as a heretic, and burnt at Paris ; 
 as were three men at Lyons, two of them with ropes about their necks ; 
 but the third, having been an officer in the king's service, was ex- 
 empted from that disgrace. He, however, begged to be treated in the 
 same manner as his companions, in honour of the Lord : his request 
 was complied with ; and after having sung a psalm Avith great ferven- 
 cy, they were all consumed. 
 
 A citizen of Geneva, Simon Laloe, Matthew Dimonet, a converted 
 libertine, and Nicholas Naile, a bookseller of Paris, were burnt for 
 professing the reformed religion. Peter Serre was originally a priest, 
 but reflecting on the errors of popery, he, at length, embraced the re- 
 formed religion, and learned the trade of a shoemaker. Having a 
 brother at Toulouse, who was a bigoted Roman Catholic, Serre, out 
 of fraternal love, made a journey to that city, in order to dissuade him 
 from his superstitions : the brother's wife not approving of his design, 
 lodged a complaint against him, on which he was apprehended, and 
 made a full declaration of his faith. The judge asked him concerning 
 his occupation, to which he replied, "I have of late practised the trade 
 of a shoemaker." " Of late !" said the .Tudge, " and what did you prac- 
 tise formerly ?" " That I am almost ashamed to tell you," exclaimed 
 Serre, ".because it was the vilest and most wicked occupation imagi- 
 nable." The judge, and all who were present, from these words, sup- 
 posed he had been a murderer or thief, and that what he spoke was 
 through contrition. He was, however, ordered to explain precisely 
 what he meant ; when, with tears in his eyes, he exclaimed, " O, I 
 was formerly a Popish Priest !" This reply so much exasperated the 
 judge, that he condemned Serre to be first degraded, then to have his 
 tongue cut, and afterwards to be burnt. 
 
 In 1554, two men of the reformed religion, with the son and daughter 
 of one of them, were committed to the castle of Niverne. On exami- 
 nation they confessed their faith, and were ordered for execution ; they 
 were first smeared with grease, brimstone, and gunpowder ; their 
 tongues were then cut out, and they were afterwards committed to the 
 flames. 
 
 Philip Hamlin, a priest, was apprehended for having renounced the 
 errors of poper}% Being brought to the stake, he began to exhort the 
 people to quit the errors of the church of Rome ; on which the officer 
 who presided at the execution ordered the faggots to be lighted, and 
 that a trumpet should be blown while Hamlin was burning, that the 
 people migLt not hear his voice 
 
102 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE INQriSITION IN SPAIN, PORTUGAL. 
 ITALY, &C. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 ORIGIN, PROGRESS, AND CRUELTIES OF THE INQUISITION. 
 
 When the reformed religion began to diffuse the pure light of the 
 gospel throughout Europe, the bigoted Roman Catholics, fearing the 
 exposure of the frauds and abuses of their church, determined to leave 
 nothing unattempted to crush the Reformation in its infancy ; Pope In- 
 nocent III. therefore instituted a number oi inquisitors, or persons who 
 were to make inquiry after, apprehend, and punish the professors of 
 the reformed faith. At the head of these inquisitors was one Dominic, 
 who was canonized by the pope, in order to render his authority the 
 more respectable. He and the other inquisitors visited the various 
 Roman Catholic countries, and treated the protestants with the utmost 
 severity : but at length the pope, not finding them so useful as he had 
 expected, resolved upon the establishment of fixed and regular courts 
 of inquisition ; the first ofiice of which was established in the city of 
 Toulouse, and Dominic became the first inquisitor. 
 
 Courts of inquisition were also erected in several other countries ; 
 but the Spanish inquisition became the most powerful, and the most 
 dreadful of any. Even the kings of Spain themselves, though arbitra- 
 ry in all other respects, were taught to ch-ead its power; and the hor- 
 rid cruelties exer,cised by the inquisition, compelled multitudes, who 
 diffiered in opinion from the Catholics, carefully to conceal their sen- 
 timents. The Dominicans and Franciscans were the most zealous of 
 all the monks : these, therefore, the pope invested with an exclusive 
 right of presiding over, and managing the different courts of inquisi- 
 tion. The friars of those two oiders were always selected from the 
 very dregs of the people, and therefore were not much troubled with 
 scruples of co'- science ; they were obliged, by the rules of their re- 
 spsctiv? orders, to lead very austere lives, which rendered their man- 
 ners unsocial, and better qualified them for their barbarous employ- 
 ment. 
 
 The pope gave the inquisitors the most unlimited powers, as judges 
 delegated by him, and immediately representing his person : they were 
 permitted to excommunicate, or sentence to death, whom they thought 
 proper, upon the slightest information of heresy : were allowed to pub- 
 lish crusades against all whom they deemed heretics, and enter into 
 leagues with sovereign princes, to join those crusades with their 
 forces. About the year 1244, their power was further increased by the 
 Emperor Frederic the Second, who declared himself the protector and 
 friend of all inquisitors, and published two cruel edicts, viz. that all he- 
 retics, who continued obstinate, should be burnt; and that all who re 
 pented, should be imprisoned for life. This zeal in the emperor for 
 
THE INCIUISITION. J 03 
 
 the inqui^tors, and the Roman Catholic persuasion, arose from a re- 
 port which had been propagated throughout Europe, that he intended 
 to turn Mahometan ; the emperor, therefore, judiciously determined, 
 by th« height of bigotry and cruelty, to show his attachment iopopery. 
 
 The officers of the inquisition are, three inquisitors or judges, a proc- 
 tor fiscal, two secretaries, a magistrate, a messenger, a receiver, a 
 gaoler, an agent of confiscated possessions, aud sevei'al assessors, 
 counsellors, executioners, physicians, surgeons, door keepers, fami- 
 liars, and visiters, who are all sworn to profound secrecy. The chief 
 accusation against those who are subject to this tribunal is heresy, 
 which comprises all that is spoken or written against any of the arti- 
 cles of the creed, or the tradition of the Romish church. The other 
 articles of accusation are, renouncing the Roman Catholic persuasion, 
 and believing that persons of any other religion may be saved, or even 
 admitting that the tenets of any but papists are in the least reasonable. 
 There are two other things which incur the most severe punishments, 
 viz. to disapprove of any action done by the inquisition, or disbelieve 
 any thing said by an inquisitor. 
 
 Heresy comprises many subdivisions ; and upon a suspicion of any 
 of these, the party is immediately apprehended. Advancing an 
 offensive proposition ; failing to impeach others who may advance 
 such ; contemning church ceremonies ; defacing idols ; reading 
 books condemned by the inquisition ; lending such books to others 
 to read ; deviating from the ordinary practices of the Romish 
 church; letting a year pass without going to confession; eating meat 
 on fast days; neglecting mass ; being present at a sermon preached 
 by a heretic; not appearing when summoned by the inquisition: 
 lodging in the house of, contracting a friendship with, or making 
 a present to a heretic ; assisting a heretic to escape from confine- 
 ment, or visiting one >in confinement, are all matters of suspicion, 
 and prosecuted accordingly. All Roman Catholics are commanded, 
 under pain of excommunication, to give immediate information, even 
 of their nearest and dearest friends, if they judge them to be here- 
 tics, or inclining to heresy. All who give the least assistance to pro- 
 testants are called fautors, or abettors of heresy, and the accusations 
 against these are for comforting such as the inquisition have begun to 
 prosecute ; assisting, or not informing against such, if they should 
 happen to escape ; concealing, abetting, advising, or furnishing here- 
 tics with money ; visiting, or Avriting to, or sending them subsistence; 
 secreting, or burning books and papers which might serve to convict 
 them. The inquisition also takes cognizance of such as are accused 
 of being magicians, witches, blasphemers, soothsayers, wizards, com- 
 mon swearers ; and of such who read, or even possess the Bible in 
 the vulgar tongues, the Talmud of the Jews, or the Alcoran of the 
 Mahometans. ' . 
 
 Upon all occasions, the inquisitors carry on their processes with the 
 utmost severity. They seldom show mercy to a Protestant ; and a 
 Jew, who turns Christian, is far from being secure; for if he is known 
 to keep company with another new converted Jew, a suspicion arises 
 that they privately practise together some Jewish ceremonies ; if he 
 keep company with a person who was lately a Protestant, but now 
 professes popery, they are accused of plotting together; but if he as- 
 sociate with a Roman Catholic, an accusation is often laid against 
 
104 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 him for only pretending to be a papist, and the consequence is, a con- 
 fiscation of his effects, and the loss of his life if he complain. 
 
 A defence is of little use to the prisoner ; for a suspicion only is 
 deemed sufficient cause of condemnation, and the greater his wealth 
 the greater his danger. Most of the inquisitors' cruelties are owing 
 to their rapacity ; they destroy life to possess the property ; and, 
 under pretence of zeal, plunder individuals of their rights. A prisoner 
 of the inquisitors is never allowed to see the face of his accuser, or 
 any of the witnesses against him, but every method is taken, by 
 threats and tortures, to oblige him to accuse himself If the jurisdic- 
 tion of the inquisition be not fully allowed, vengeance is denounced 
 against such as call it in question; or if any of its officers are opposed, 
 those who oppose them are almost certain to be sufferers for their 
 temerity ; the maxim of the inquisition being to strike terror, and awe 
 those who are the objects of its power into obedience. High birth, dis- 
 tinguished rank, or eminent employments, are no protection from its 
 severities ; and its lowest officers can make the most exalted noble- 
 man tremble at their authority. 
 
 Such are the circumstances which subject a person to the rage ot 
 the inquisition ; and the modes of beginning the process are, 1. To 
 proceed by imputation, or prosecute on common report : 2. By the 
 information of any indifferent person wno chooses to impeach ano- 
 ther ; 3. On the information of spies who are retained by the inquisi- 
 tion ; and, 4. On the confession of the prisoner himself. 
 
 The inquisitors never forget or forgive ; length of time cannot 
 efface their resentments ; nor can the humblest concessions, or most 
 libera] presents, obtain a pardon; they carry the desii-e of revenge to 
 the grave, and wish to have both the property and lives of those who 
 have offended them. Hence, when a person once accused to the in- 
 quisition, after escaping, is retaken, pardon is next to an impossibility. 
 If a positive accusation be given, the inquisitors direct an order to the 
 executioner, who takes a certain number of familiars with him to 
 assist in the execution. Father, son, brother, sister, husband, or wife, 
 must quietly submit ; none dare resist or even speak ; as either would 
 subject them to the same punishment as the devoted victim. No re- 
 spite is allowed, bufr the prisoner is instantaneously hurried away. 
 
 This dreadful engine of tyranny may, at any time, be introduced 
 into a country where the Catholics have the upper hand; and hence, 
 how careful ought we to be, who are not cursed with such an arbi- 
 trary court, to prevent its introduction ! In treating of this subject, 
 an elegant author pathetically says, " How horrid a scene of perfidy 
 and inhumanity ! What kind of community must that be, whence gra- 
 titude, love, and mutual forbearance, with regard to human frailties, are 
 banished ! What must that tribunal be, which obliges parents not 
 only to erase from their minds the re*membrance of their own children, 
 to extinguish all those keen sensations of tendern.ess and affection 
 wherewith nature inspires them, but even to extend their inhumanity 
 so far as to force them to commence their accusers, and, consequently, 
 to become the cause of the cruellies inflicted upon them ! What ideas 
 ought we to form to oui'sclves of a tribunal, which obliges children not 
 only to stifle every soft impulse of gratitude, love, and respect, due to 
 those who gave them birth, but even forces them, and that under the 
 most rigorous penalties, to be spies over their parents, and to discover 
 
Tortures of the Inquisition. Page 110. 
 
 Tortures of the Inquisition Page 111. 
 
THE mauisiTioN. t05 
 
 to a set of merciless inquisitors the crimes, the errors, and even the 
 iittle lapses to which they are exposed by human frailty ! In a word, 
 a tribunal which will not permit relations, when imprisoned in its hor- 
 rid dungeons, to give each other the succours, or perform the duties 
 which religion enjoins, must be of an infernal nature. "What disor- 
 der and confusion must such conduct give rise to, in a tenderly affec- 
 tionate family ! An expression, innocent in itself, and, perhaps, but 
 too true, shall, from an indiscreet zeal, or a panic of fear, give infinite 
 uneasiness to a family ; shall ruin its peace entirely, and perhaps 
 cause one or more of its members to be the unhappy victims of the 
 most barbarous of all tribunals. What distractions must necessaril)^ 
 break forth in a house where the husband and wife are at variance, or 
 'the children loose and wicked ! Will such children scruple to sacri- 
 fice a father, who endeavours to restrain them by his exhortations, by 
 reproofs, or paternal corrections ? Will they not rather, after plun 
 dering his house to support their extravagance and riot, readily deli- 
 ver up their unhappy parent to all the horrors of a tribunal founded 
 on the blackest injustice ? A riotous husband, or a loose wife has an 
 easy opportunity, assisted by means of the persecution in question, to 
 rid themselves of one who is a check to their vices, by delivering him, 
 or her, up to the rigours of the inquisition." 
 
 When the inquisitors have taken umbrage against an innocent 
 person, all expedients are used to facilitate his condemnation ; false 
 oaths and testimonies are employed to prove the accused to be guilty; 
 and all laws and institutions are sacrificed to the bigoted revenge of 
 papacy. 
 
 WTien a person accused is taken, his treatment is deplorable. The 
 goalers first begin by searching him for books and papers which might 
 tend to his conviction, or for instruments which might be employed 
 in self-murder or escape, and on this pretext they even rob him of 
 his wearing apparel. When he has been searched and robbed, he is 
 committed to prison. Innocence, on such an occasion, is a weak 
 reed ; nothing being easier than to ruii^an innocent person. 
 
 The mildest sentence is imprisonment for life ; yet the inquisitors 
 proceed by degrees, at once subtle, slow, and cruel. The gaoler first 
 o{ all insinuates himself into the prisoner's favour, by pretending to 
 wish him well, and advise him well ; and among other pretended kind 
 hints, tells him to petition for an audit. When he is brought before 
 the consistory, the first demand is, " What is your request ?" To this 
 the prisoner very naturally answers, that he would have a hearing. 
 Hereupon one of the inquisitors replies, " Your hearing is this : con- 
 fess the truth, conceal nothing, and rely on our mercy." Now, if the 
 prisoner make a confession of any trifling affair, they immediately 
 found an indictment on it ; if he is mute, they shut him up without 
 light, or any food but a scanty allowance of bread and water, till his 
 obstinacy is overcome ; and if he declare he is innocent, they torment 
 him till he either die with the pain, or confess himself guilty. 
 
 On the re-examination of such as confess, they continually say, 
 " You have not been sincere ; you tell not all ; you keep many things 
 concealed, and therefore must be remanded to your dungeon." When 
 those who have stood mute are called for re-examination, if they con- 
 tinue silent, such tortures are ordered as will either make them 
 speak, or kill them ; and when those who proclaim their innocence 
 
 14 
 
lUt> BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 are re-examined, a crucifix is held before them, and they are solemnly 
 exhorted to take an oath of their confession of faith. This brings 
 them to the test ; they must either swear they are Roman Catholics, 
 or acknowledge they are not. If they acknowledge they are not, 
 they are proceeded against as heretics. If they acknowledge they 
 are Roman Catholics, a string of accusations is brought against them, 
 to which they are obliged to answer extempore ; no time being given 
 even to arrange their answers. On having verbally answered, pen, 
 ink, and paper are given themi in order to produce a written answer, 
 which must in every degree coincide with the verbal answer. If the 
 verbal and written answers differ, the prisoners are charged with pre- 
 varication ; if one contain more than the other, they are accused of 
 wishing to conceal certain circumstances ; if they both agree, they 
 are charged with premeditated artifice. 
 
 After a person impeached is condemned, he is either severely 
 whipped, violently tortured, sent to the galleys, or sentenced to death ; 
 and in either case his effects are confiscated. After judgment, a pro- 
 cession is formed to the place of execution, which ceremony is called 
 an Auto da Fe, or Act of Faith. 
 
 Auto da Fe, at Madrid. 
 
 The following is an account of an Auto da Fe, at Madrid, in the 
 year 1682. 
 
 The officers of the inquisition, preceded by trumpets, kettle-drums^ 
 and their banner, marched on the 30th of May, in cavalcade, to the 
 palace of the great square, where they declared by proclamation, that 
 on the 30th of June the sentence of the prisoners would be put in 
 execution. There had not been a spectacle of this kind at Madrid 
 for several years, for which reason it was expected by the inhabi- 
 tants with as much impatience as a day of the greatest festivity and 
 triumph. 
 
 When the day appointed arrived, a prodigious number of peoples 
 appeared, dressed as splendidlj' as their circumstances would allow. 
 In the great square was raised a high scaffold ; and thither, from 
 seven in the morning till the evening, were brought criminals of both 
 sexes ; all the inquisitions in the kingdom sending their prisoners to 
 Madrid. Twenty men and women of these prisoners, with one rene- 
 gade Mahometan, were ordered to be burnt ; fifty Jews and Jewesses, 
 having never before been imprisoned, and repenting of their crime, 
 were sentenced to a long confinement, and to wear a yellow cap ; 
 and ten others, indicted for bigamy, witchcraft, and other crimes, 
 were sentenced to be whipped, and then sent to the galleys : these 
 last wore large pasteboard caps, with inscriptions on them, having a 
 halter about their necks, and torches in their hands. 
 
 On this solemn occasion the whole court of Spain was present. 
 The grand inquisitor's chair was placed in a sort of tribunal far above 
 that of the king. The nobles here acted the part of the sheriff's offi- 
 cers in England, leading such criminals as were to be burned, and 
 holding them when fast bound with thick cords : the rest of the cri- 
 minals were conducted by the familiars of the inquisition. 
 
 Among those who were fo suffer, was a young Jewess of exquisite 
 beauty, only seventeen years of age. Being on the same side of the 
 scaffold where the queen was seated, she addressed her, in hopes of 
 
THB INaUiSITION. IO7 
 
 obtaining a pardon, in the following pathetic speech : " Great queen ! 
 will not your royal presence be of some service to me in my miserable 
 condition ? Have regard to my youth ; and, oh ! consider that I am 
 about to die for professing a religion imbibed from my earliest infancy !" 
 Her majesty seemed greatly to pity her distress, but turned away her 
 eyes, as she did not dare to speak a word in behalf of a person who 
 had been declared a heretic by the inquisition. 
 
 Mass now began, in the midst of which the priest came from the 
 altar, placed near the scaffold, and seated himself in a chair prepared ' 
 for that purpose. Then the chief inquisitor descended from the am- 
 phitheatre, dressed in his cope, and having a mitre on his head. Af- 
 ter bowing to the altar, he advanced towards the king's balcony, and 
 went up to it, attended by some of his officers, carrying a cross and 
 the gospels, with a book containing the oath by which the kings of 
 Spain oblige themselves to protect the catholic faith, to extirpate here- 
 tics, and support, with all their power, the prosecutions and decrees 
 of the inquisition. On the approach of the inquisitor, and on his pre- 
 senting this book to the king, his majesty rose Up bareheaded, and 
 swore to maintain the oath, which was read to him by one of his coun- 
 sellors ; after which, the king continued standing till the inquisitor had 
 returned to his place ; when the secretary of the holy office mounted 
 a sort of pulpit, and administered a like oath to the counsellors and 
 the whole assembly. The mass was begun about twelve at noon, and 
 did not end till nine in the evening, being protracted by a proclama- 
 tion of the sentences of the several criminals, which were all sepa- 
 rately rehearsed aloud one after the other. Next followed the burn- 
 ing of the twenty-one men and women, whose intrepidity in suffering 
 that horrid death was truly astonishing : some thrust their hands and 
 feet into the flames with the most dauntless fortitude ; and all of them 
 yielded to their fate with such resolution, that many of the amazed 
 spectators lamented that such heroic souls had not been more enlight- 
 ened ! The situation of the king was so near to the criminals, that their 
 dying groans were very audible to him : he could not, however, be ab-r 
 sent from tliis dreadful scene, as it is esteemed a religious one ; and 
 his coronation oath obliges him to give a sanction by hie presence to 
 all the acts of the tribunal. 
 
 Another Auto da Fe. 
 
 Another Auto da Fe is thus described by Dr. Geddes : — " At the 
 place of execution there are so many stakes set as there are prisoners 
 to be burned, a large quantity of dry furze being set about them. — 
 The stakes of the protestants, or, as the inquisitors call them, the pro- 
 fessed, are about four yards high, and have each a small board, 
 whereon the prisoner is seated within half a yard of the top. The 
 professed then go up a ladder betwixt two priests, who attend the 
 whole day of execution. When they come even with the foremen- 
 tioned board, they turn about to the people, and the priests spend 
 near a quarter of an hour in exhorting them to be reconciled to the 
 see of Rome. On their refusing, the priests come down, and the exe- 
 cutioner ascends, turns the professed from off the ladder upon the seat, 
 chains their bodies close to the stakes, and leaves them. Then the 
 priests go up a second time to renew their exhortations, and if tv\ey 
 find them ineffectual, usually tell them, at parting, that they leave 
 
108 BOOK OP MARTYRS 
 
 them to the devil, who is standing at their elbow ready to receive their 
 souls, and carry them with him into the flames of hell-fire, as soon as 
 they are out of their bodies. 
 
 "A general shout is then raised, and when the priests get off the 
 ladder, the universal cry is, ' Let the dogs' beards be made," which 
 implies, singe their beards ; this is accordingly performed by means of 
 flaming furzes thrust against their faces with long poles. This bar- 
 barity is repeated till their faces are burnt, and is accompanied with 
 loud acclamations. Fire is then set to the furzes, and the criminals 
 are consumed." 
 
 Inquisition of Portugal. 
 
 The inquisition of Portugal is exactly upon a similar plan to that of 
 Spain, having been instituted about the same time, and put under the 
 same regulations, and the proceedings nearly resemble each other. 
 The house, or rather palace, of the inquisition, is a noble edifice. It 
 contains four courts, each about forty feet square, round which 
 are about 300 dungeons or cells. The dungeons on the ground floor 
 are for the lowest class of prisoners, and those on the second floor 
 are for persons of superior rank. The galleries are built of free- 
 stone, and hid from view both within and without by a double wall of 
 about fifty feet high. So extensive is the whole prison, which con- 
 tains so many turnings and windings, that none but those well ac- 
 quainted with it can find the way through its various avenues. The 
 apartments of the chief inquisitor are spacious and elegant ; the en- 
 trance is through a large gate, which leads into a court-yard, round 
 which are several chambers, and some large saloons for the king, 
 royal family, and the rest of the court, to stand and observe the exe- 
 cutions during an Auto da Fe. 
 
 A testoon (sevenpence halfpenny English money) is allowed every 
 prisoner daily ; and the principal gaoler, accompanied by two other 
 officers, monthly visits every prisoner to inquire how he would have 
 his allowance laid out. This visit, however, is only a matter of form, 
 for the gaoler usually lays out the money as he pleases, and commonly 
 allows the prisoner daily a porringer of broth, half a pound of beef, a 
 small piece of bread, and a trifling portion of cheese. 
 
 Sentinels walk about continually to listen; if the least noise is heard, 
 they call to, and threaten the prisoner ; if the noise is repeated, a se- 
 vere beating ensues. The following is a fact ; a prisoner having a 
 violent cough, one of the guards came and ordered him not to make a 
 noise ; to which he replied, that it was not in his power to forbear. 
 The cough increasing, the guard went into the cell, stripped the poor 
 creature naked, and beat him so unmercifully that he soon after died. 
 
 Sometimes a prisoner passes months without knowing of what he 
 is accused, or having the least idea of when he is to be tried. The 
 gaoler at length informs him, that he must petition for a trial. This 
 ceremony being gone through, he is taken for examination. When 
 they come to the door of the tribunal, the gaoler knocks three times, 
 to give the judges notice of their approach. A bell is rung by one 
 of the judges, when an attendant opens the door, admits the prisoner, 
 and seats him on a stool. 
 
 The prisoner is then ordered, by the president, to kneel down, and 
 lay his right hand upon a book, which is presented to him close shut 
 
THE maUISITION. 109 
 
 This being complied with, the following question is put to him : 
 " Will you promise to conceal the secrets of the holy office, and to 
 speak the truth ?" Should he answer in the negative, he is remanded 
 to his cell, and cruelly treated. If he answer in the affirmative, he 
 is ordered to be again seated, and the examination proceeds; when 
 the president asks a variety of questions, and the clerk minutes both 
 them and the answers. 
 
 When the examination is closed, the bell is again rung, the gaoler 
 appears, and the prisoner is ordered to withdraw, with this exhorta- 
 tion : " Tax your memory, recollect all the sins you have ever com- 
 mitted, and when you are again brought here, communicate them 
 to the holy office." The gaolers and attendants, when apprised that 
 the prisoner has made an ingenuous confession, and readily answered 
 every question, make him a low bow, and treat him with an affected 
 kindness, as a reward for his candour. 
 
 He is brought in a few days to a second examination, with the same 
 formalities as before. The inquisitors often deceive prisoners by 
 promising the greatest lenity, and even to restore their liberty, if they 
 will accuse themselves ; the unhappy persons, who are in their power, 
 frequently fall into this snare, and are sacrificed to their own sim- 
 plicity. Instances have occurred of some, who, relying on the faith 
 of their judges, have accused themselves of what they were totally 
 innocent of, in expectation of obtaining their liberty ; and thus became 
 martyrs to their own folly. 
 
 There is another artifice made use of by the inquisitors ; if a pri- 
 soner has too much resolution to accuse himself, and too much sense to 
 be ensnared by their sophistry, they proceed thus : a copy of an in- 
 dictment against the prisoner is given him, in which, among many 
 trivial accusations, he is charged with the most enormous crimes of 
 which human nature is capable. This rouses his temper, and he ex- 
 claims against such falsehoods. He is then asked which of the crimes 
 he can deny. He naturally mentions the most atrocious, and begins 
 to express his abhorrence of them, when the indictment being snatch- 
 ed out of his hand, the president says, " By your denying only those 
 crimes which you mention, you implicitly confess the rest, and we 
 shall therefore proceed accordingly." Sometimes they make a ridicu- 
 lous affectation of equity, by pretending that the prisoner may be in- 
 dulged with a counsellor, if he chooses to demand one. Such a re- 
 quest is sometimes made, and a counsellor appointed ; but upon these 
 occasions, as the trial itself is a mockery of justice, so the counsellor 
 is a mere cipher : for he is not permitted to say any thing that might 
 offend the inquisition, or to advance a syllable that might benefit the 
 prisoner. 
 
 Though the inquisitors allow the torture to be used only three times, 
 yet at those three it is so severely inflicted, that the prisoner either 
 dies under it, or continues always after a cripple. The following is a 
 description of the severe torments occasioned by the torture, from the 
 account of one who suffered it the three respective times, but happily 
 survived its cruelties. 
 
 First time of torturing. 
 
 The prisoner, on refusing to comply with the iniquitous demands of 
 the inquisitors, by confessing all the crimes they charged him with. 
 
no BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 was immediately conveyed to the torture-room, which, to prevent the 
 cries of the sufferers from being heard by the other prisoners, is lined 
 with a kind of quilting, which covers all the crevices, and deadens the 
 sound. The prisoner's horror was extreme on entering this infernal 
 place, when suddenly he was surrounded by six wretches, who, after 
 preparing the tortures, stripped him naked to his drawers. He was 
 then laid upon his back on a kind of stand, elevated a few feet from 
 the floor. ThNgy began by putting an iron collar round his neck, and 
 a ring to each foot, which fastened him to the stand. His limbs being 
 thus stretched out, they wound two ropes round each arm, and two 
 round each thigh ; which ropes being passed under the scaffold, 
 through holes made for that purpose, were all drawn tight at the same 
 instant of time, by four of the men, on a given signal. The pains 
 which immediately succeeded were intolerable ; the ropes, which 
 were of a small size, cut through the prisoner's flesh to the bone, mak- 
 ing the blood gush out at eight different places. As he persisted in 
 not making any confession of what the inquisitors required, the ropes 
 were drawn in this manner four times successively. 
 
 A physician and surgeon attended, and often felt his temples, in ' 
 order to judge of the danger he might be in ; by which means his 
 tortures were for a small time suspended, that he might have sufiicient 
 opportunity of recovering his spirits to sustain each ensuing torture. 
 During this extremity of anguish, while the tender frame is being 
 torn, as it were, in pieces, while at every pore it feels the sharpest 
 pangs of death, and the agonized soul is just ready to burst forth, and 
 quit its wretched mansion, the ministers of the inquisition have the 
 obduracy to look on without emotion, and calmly to advise the poor 
 distracted creature to confess his imputed guilt, on doing which, they 
 tell him, he may obtain a free pardon, and receive absolution. All 
 this, however, was ineffectual with the prisoner, whose mind was 
 strengthened by a sweet consciousness of innocence, and the divine 
 consolation of religion. 
 
 While he was thus suffering, the physician and surgeon were so bar- 
 barous as to declare, that if he died under the torture, he would be 
 guilty, by his obstinacy, of self-murder. In short, at the last time of 
 the ropes being drawn tight, he grew so exceedingly weak, by the 
 stoppage of the circulation of his blood, and the pains he endured, 
 that he fainted away ; upon which he was unloosed, and carried back 
 to his dungeon. 
 
 Second time of torturing. 
 
 These inhuman wretches, finding that the torture inflicted, as above 
 described, instead of extorting a discovery from the prisoner, only 
 served the more fervently to excite his supplication to Heaven for pa- 
 tience and power to persevere in truth and integrity, were so barba- 
 rous, in six weeks after, as to expose him to another kind of torture, 
 more severe, if possible, than the former ; the manner of inflicting 
 which was as follows : they forced his arms backwards, so that the 
 palms of his hands were turned outward behind him ; when, by means 
 of a rope that fastened them together at the wrists, and which was 
 turned by an engine, they drew them by degrees nearer each other, 
 in such a manner that the back of each hand touched and stood ex 
 actly parallel to the other. In consequence of this violent contor 
 
THE INCIUISITION, HI 
 
 tion, both his shoulders were dislocated, and a considerable quantity 
 of blood issued from his mouth. This torture was repeated thrice ; 
 after which he was again taken to the dungeon, and delivered to the 
 physician and surgeon, who, in setting the dislocated bones, put him 
 to the most exquisite torment. 
 
 Third time of torturing. 
 
 About two months after the second torture, the prisoner, being a 
 little recovered, was again ordered to the torture room, and there 
 made to undergo another kind of punishment. The executioners fas- 
 tened a thick iron chain twice round his body, which, crossing upon 
 his stomach, terminated at the wrists. They then placed him with 
 his back against a thick board, at each extremity whereof was a pul- 
 ley, through which there run a rope that caught the ends of the chain at 
 his wrists. Then the executioner, stretching the end of this rope, by 
 means of a roller placed at a distance behind him, pressed or bruised 
 his stomach in proportion as the ends of the chain were drawn tighter. 
 They tortured him in this manner to such a degree, that his wrists, as 
 well as his shoulders, were quite dislocated. They were, however, 
 soon set by the surgeons ; but the barbarians, not yet satisfied with 
 this infernal cruelty, made him immediately undergo the like torture 
 a second time ; which he sustained (though, if possible, attended with 
 keener pains) with equal constancy and resolution. He was then 
 again remanded to his dungeon, attended by the surgeon to dress his 
 bruises, and adjust the parts dislocated ; and here he continued till 
 their auto da fe, or gaol delivery, when he was happily discharged. 
 
 It may be judged, from the before-mentioned relation, what dreadful 
 agony the sufferer must have endured. Most of his limbs were dis- 
 jointed ; so much was he bruised and exhausted, as to be unable, for 
 some weeks, to lift his hand to his mouth ; and his body became 
 greatly swelled from the inflammations caused by such frequent dis- 
 locations. After his discharge he felt the effects of this cruelty for 
 the remainder of his life, being frequently seized with thrilling and 
 excruciating pains, to which he had never been subject till after he 
 had the misfortune to fall into the power of the merciless and bloody 
 inquisition. 
 
 The unhappy females who fall into their hands, have not the least 
 favour shown them on account of the softness of their sex, but are 
 tortured with as much severity as the male prisoners, with the addi- 
 tional mortification of having the most shocking indecencies added to 
 the most savage barbarities. 
 
 Should the above-mentioned modes of torturing force a confession 
 from the prisoner, he is remanded to his horrid dungeon, and left a 
 prey to the melancholy of his situation, to the anguish arising from 
 what he has suffered, and to the dreadful ideas of future barbarities. 
 Should he refuse to confess, he is, in the same manner, remanded to 
 his dungeon ; but a stratagem is used to draw from him what the tor- 
 ture fails to do. A companion is allowed to attend him, under the 
 pretence of waiting upon, and comforting his mind till his wounds are 
 healed : this person, who is always selected for his cunning, insinu- 
 ates himself into the good graces of the prisoner, laments the anguish 
 he feels, sympathizes with him, and, taking advantage of the hasty ex- 
 pressions forced from him by pain, does all he can to dive into his se- 
 
112 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 crets. This companion sometimes pretends to be a prisoner like him- 
 self, and imprisoned on similar charges. This is to draw the unhappy 
 person into a mutual confidence, and persuade him, in unbosoming 
 his grief, to betray his private sentiments. 
 
 Frequently these snares succeed, as they are the more alluring by 
 being glossed over with the appearance of friendship and sympathy. 
 Finally, if the prisoner cannot be found guilty, he is either tortured or 
 harrassed to death, though a few have sometimes had the good for- 
 tune to be discharged, but not without having suffered the most dread- 
 ful cruelties. 
 
 The inquisition also takes cognizance of all new books ; and tolerates 
 or condemns with the same justice and impartiality by which all its 
 proceedings are distinguished. 
 
 When a book is published, it is carefully read by some of the fami- 
 liars ; who, too ignorant and bigoted to distinguish truth, and too ma- 
 licious to relish beauties, search not for the merits, but for the defects 
 of an author, and pursue the slips of his pen with unremitting dili- 
 gence. They read with prejudice, judge with partiality, pursue errors 
 with avidity and strain that which is innocent into an offensive mean 
 ing. They misapply, confound, and pervert the sense ; and when 
 they have gratified the malignity of their disposition, charge theii 
 blunders upon the author, that a prosecution may be founded upon 
 their false conceptions, and designed misrepresentations. 
 
 Any trivial charge causes the censure of a book ; but it is to be ob- 
 served, that the censure is of a threefold nature, viz. 
 
 1. "When the book is wholly condemned. 
 
 2. When it is partly condemned ; that is, when certain passages are 
 pointed out as exceptionable, and ordered to be expunged. 
 
 3. When it is deemed incorrect ; the meaning of which is, that a 
 few words or expressions displease the inquisitors. These, therefore, 
 are ordered to be altered, and such alterations go under the name of 
 corrections. 
 
 There is a catalogue of condemned books annually published under 
 the three different heads of censures, already mentioned, which being 
 printed on a large sheet of paper, is hung up iii the most public and 
 conspicuous places. After which, people are obliged to destroy all 
 such books as come under the first censure, and to keep none belong- 
 ing to the other two censures, unless the exceptionable passages have 
 been expunged, and the corrections made, as in either case disobedi- 
 ence would be of the most fatal consequence ; for the possessing or 
 reading the proscribed books are deemed very atrocious crimes. 
 
 The publisher of such books is usually ruined in his circumstances, 
 and sometimes obliged to pass the remainder of his life in the inqui- 
 sition. 
 
 Where such an absurd and detestable system exercises its deaden- 
 ing influence over the literature of a nation, can we be surprised that 
 the grossest ignorance and the most bigoted superstition prevail ? How 
 <;an that people become enlightened, among whom the finest produc- 
 tions of genius are prohibited, all discussion prevented, the most inno- 
 cent inquiries liable to misconstruction and punishment, the materials 
 for thinking proscribed, and even thought itself chained down, and 
 checked by the fear of its escaping into expression, and thus bringing 
 certain and cruel punishment on him who has dared to exercise his 
 
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THE INaUISITION. jjg 
 
 reason, the noblest gift of his Almighty Creator. Surely every well 
 wisher to the human race, must rejoice in the downfall of this most 
 barbarous and infernal of all tribunals. 
 
 SECTION 11. 
 
 BARBARITIES EXERCISED BY THE INC^UISITIONS OF SPAIN AKD POR- 
 TUGAL. 
 
 Francis Romanes, a native of Spain, was employed by the mer- 
 chants of Antwerp, to transact some business for them at Bremen. He 
 had been educated in the Romish persuasion, but going one day into 
 a protestant church, he was struck with the truths which he heard, and 
 beginning to perceive the errors of popery, he determined to search 
 farther into the matter. Perusing the sacred scriptures, and the wri- 
 tings of some protestant divines, he perceived how erroneous were the 
 principles which he had formerly embraced ; and renounced the impo- 
 sitions of popery for the doctrines of the reformed church, in which 
 religion appeared in all its purity. Resolving to think only of his eter- 
 nal salvation, he studied religious truths more than trade, and pur- 
 chased books rather than merchandise, convinced that the riches of 
 the body are trifling to those of the soul. He therefore resigned his 
 agency to the merchants of Antwerp, giving them an account at the 
 same time of his conversion ; and then resolving, if possible, to con- 
 vert his parents, he went to Spain for that purpose. But the Antwerp 
 merchants writing to the inquisitors, he was seized upon, imprisoned 
 for some time, and then condemned to be burnt as a heretic. He 
 was led to the place of execution in a garment painted over with devils, 
 and had a paper mitre put upon his head by way of derison. As 
 he passed by a wooden cross, one of the priests bade him kneel to it; 
 but he absolutely refused so to do, saying, " It is not for Christians to 
 worship wood." Having been placed upon a pile of wood, the fire 
 quickly reached him, whereupon he lifted up his head suddenly ; the 
 priests thinking he meant to recant, ordered him to be taken down. 
 Finding, however, that they were mistaken, and that he still retained 
 his constancy, he was placed again upon the pile, where, as long as he 
 had life and voice remaining, he kept repeating the seventh psalm. 
 
 Horrid Treachery of an Inquisitor. 
 
 A lady, with her two daughters and her niece, were apprehended at 
 Seville for professing the protestant religion. They were all put to 
 the torture ; and when that was over, one of the inquisitors sent for the 
 youngest daughter, pretended to sympathise with her, and pity her 
 Bufferings ; then bindinff himself with a solemn oath not to betray her, 
 he said, " If you will disclose all to me, I promise you I will procure 
 the discharge of your mother, sister, cousin, and yourself." Made 
 confident by his oath, and entrapped by his promises, she revealed the 
 whole of the tenets they professed ; when the perjured wretch, instead 
 of acting as he had sworn, immediately ordered her to be put to the 
 rack, saying, "Now you have revealed so much, I will make you re- 
 veal more." Refusing, however, to say any thing farther, they were 
 
 15 
 
114 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 all ordered to be burnt, which sentence was executed at the next 
 Auto da Fe. 
 
 The keeper of the castle of Triano, belonging to the inquisitors of 
 Seville, happened to be of a disposition more mild and humane than 
 is usual with persons in his situation. He gave all the indulgence he 
 could to the prisoners, and showed them every favour in his power, 
 with as much secrecy as possible. At length, however, the inquisitors 
 became acquainted with his kindness, and determined to punish him 
 severely for it, that other gaolers might be deterred from showing the 
 least traces of that compassion which ought to glow in the breast of 
 every human being. With this view they immediately threw him into 
 a dismal dungeon, and used him with dreadful barbarity, so that he lost 
 his senses. His deplorable situation, however, procured him no fa- 
 vour ; for, frantic as he was, they brought him from prison, at an Auto 
 da Fe, to the usual place of punishment, with a sanbenito (or garment 
 worn by criminals) on, and a rope about his neck. His sentence was 
 then read, and ran thus : that he should be placed upon an ass, led 
 through the city, receive 200 stripes, and then be condemned for six 
 years to the galleys. This unhappy, frantic wretch, just as they weie 
 about to begin his punishment, suddenly sprang from the back of the 
 ass, broke the cords that bound him, snatched a sword from one of 
 the guards, and dangerously wounded an officer of the inquisition. 
 Being overpowered by multitudes, he was prevented from doing fur- 
 ther mischief, seized, bound more securely on the ass, and punished 
 according to his sentence. But so inexorable were the inquisitors, 
 that for the rash effects of his madness, four years were added to his 
 slavery in the galleys. 
 
 A young lady, named Maria de Coceicao, who resided with her 
 brother at Lisbon, was taken up by the inquisitors, and ordered to be 
 put to the rack. The torments she felt made her confess the charges 
 against her. The cords were then slackened, and she was re-con- 
 ducted to her cell, where she remained till she had recovered the use 
 of her limbs ; she was then brought again before the tribunal, and order- 
 ed to ratify her confession. This she absolutely refused to do, telling 
 them, that what she had said was forced from her by the excessive 
 pain she underwent. The inquisitors, incensed at this reply, ordered 
 her again to be put to the rack, when the weakness of nature once 
 more prevailed, and she repeated her former confession. She Avas 
 immediately remanded to her cell : and being a third time brought be- 
 fore the inquisitors, they ordered her to sign her first and second con- 
 fessions. She answered as before, but added, " I have twice given 
 way to the frailty of the flesh, and perhaps may, while on the rack, 
 be weak enough to do so again ; but depend upon it, if you torture me 
 an hundred times, as soon as I am released from the rack I shall deny 
 what was extorted from me by pain." The inquisitors then ordered 
 her to be racked a third time ; and during this last trial, she bore the 
 torments with the utmost fortitude, and coidd not be persuaded to an- 
 swer any of the questions put to her. As her courage and constancy 
 increased, the inquisitors, instead of putting her to death, condemned 
 her to a severe whipping through the public streets, and banislimeiit 
 for ten years; 
 
 A lady of a noble family in Seville, namedJane Bohorquia, was ap- 
 prehended on the information of her sister, who had been tortured 
 
THE maUISITION. 115 
 
 and burnt for professing Ihe protestant religion. Being pregnant, they 
 let her remain tolerably quiet till she was delivered, when they imme- 
 diately took away the child, and put it to nurse, that it might be brought 
 up a Roman Catholic. Soon afterwards this unfortunate lady was or- 
 dered to be racked, which was done with such severity, that she ex- 
 pired a week after of the wounds and bruises. Upon this occasion, 
 the inquisitors affected some remorse, and in one of the printed acts of 
 the inquisition, which they always publish at an Auto da Fe, this young 
 lady is thus mentioned : " Jane Bohorquia was found dead in prison ; 
 after which, upon reviving the prosecution, the inquisitors discovered 
 she was innocent. Be it therefore known, that no further prosecu- 
 tions shall be carried on against her ; and that her effects, which were 
 confiscated, shall be given to the heirs &t law." One sentence in the 
 above ridiculous passage, wants explanation, viz. that no further pro- 
 secutions shall be carried on against her. This alludes to the absurd 
 custom of prosecuting and burning the bones of the dead : for when a 
 prisoner dies in the inquisition, the process continues the same as if 
 he was living ; the bones are deposited in a chest, and if sentence of 
 guilt is passed, they are brought out at the next Auto da Fe ; the sen- 
 tence is read against them with as much solemnity as against a living 
 prisoner, and they are committed to the flames. In a similar manner 
 are prosecutions carried on against prisoners who escape ; and when 
 their persons are far beyond the reach of the inquisitors, they ar« 
 burnt in effigy. 
 
 Isaac Orobio, a learned physician, having beaten a Moorish servant 
 for stealing, was accused by him of professing Judaism, and the in- 
 quisitors seized him upon the charge. He was kept three years in 
 prison before he had the least information of what he was to undergo, 
 and then suffered the following six modes of torture : — 1. A coarse 
 linen coat was put upon him, and then drawn so tight that the circu- 
 lation of the blood was nearly stopped, and the breath almost pressed 
 out of his body. After this the strings were suddenly loosened, when 
 the air forcing its way hastily into his stomach, and the blood rushing 
 into its channels, he suffered the most incredible pain. 2. His thumbs 
 were tied with small cords so hard that the blood gushed from under 
 the nails. 3. He was seated on a bench with his back against a wall, 
 wherein small iron pulleys were fixed. Ropes being fastened to se- 
 veral parts of his body and limbs, were passed through the pulleys, and 
 being suddenly drawn with great violence, his whole frame was forced 
 into a distorted mass. 4. After having suffered for a considerable 
 time the pains of the last mentioned position, the seat was snatched 
 away, and he was left suspended against the wall. 5. A little instru- 
 ment with five knobs, and which went with springs, being placed near 
 his face, he suddenly received five blows on the cheek, which put him 
 to such pain as caused him to faint. 6. The executioners fastened 
 ropes round his wrists, and then drew them about his body. Placing 
 him on his back with his feet against the wall, they pulled with the 
 utmost violence, till the cord had penetrated to the bone. He suf- 
 fered the last torture three times, and then lay seventy days before 
 his wounds were healed. He was afterwards banished, and in his 
 exile wrote the account of his sufferings, from which the foregoing 
 particulars are chiefly extracted. 
 
116 . BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 SECTION III. 
 
 TRIAL AND SUFFERINGS OF MR. ISAAC MARTIN. 
 
 In the year 1714, about Lent, Mr. Martin arrived at Malaga, with 
 his wife and four children. On the examination of his baggage, his 
 Bible, and some other books, were seized. He was accused in about 
 three months time of being a Jew, for these curious reasons, that his 
 own name was Isaac, and one of his sons was named Abraham. 
 The accusation was laid in the bishop's court, and he informed the 
 English consul of it, who said it was nothing but the malice of some 
 of the Irish papists, whom he advised him always to shun. The cler- 
 gy sent to Mr. Martin's neighbours, to know their opinion concerning 
 him : the result of which inquiry was this, " We believe him not to 
 be a Jew, but a heretic." After this, being continually pestered by 
 priests, particularly those of the Irish nation, to change his religion, 
 he determined to dispose of what he had, and retire from Malaga. 
 But when his resolution became known, at about nine o'clock at night 
 he heard a knocking at his door. He demanded who was there. 
 The persons without said they wanted to enter. He desired they 
 would come again the next morning ; but they replied, if he would 
 not open the door they would break it open ; which they did. Then 
 about fifteen persons entered, consisting of a commissioner, with se- 
 veral priests and familiars belonging to the inquisition. Mr. Martin 
 would fain have gone to the English consul ; but they told him the 
 consul had nothing to do in the matter, and then said, " Where are 
 your beads and fire arms ?" To which he answered, " I am an Eng- 
 lish protestant, and as such carry no private arms, nor make use of 
 beads." They took away his watch, money, and other things, car- 
 ried him to the bishop's prison, and put on him a pair of heavy fet- 
 ters. His distressed family was at the same time turned out of doors, 
 till the house was stripped ; and when they had taken every thing 
 away, they returned the key to his wife. 
 
 About four days after his commitment, Mr. Martin was told he 
 must be sent to Grenada to be tried ; he earnestly begged to see his 
 wife and children before he went, but this was denied. Being doubly 
 fettered, he was mounted on a mule, and set out towards Grenada. 
 By the way, the mule threw him upon a rocky part of the road, and 
 almost broke his back. 
 
 On his arrival at Grenada, after a journey of three days, he was 
 detained at an inn till it was dark, for they never put any one into 
 the inquisition during day-light. At night he was taken to the pri- 
 son, and led along a range of galleries till he arrived at a dungeon. 
 The gaoler nailed up a box of books, belonging to him, which had 
 been brought from Malaga, saying, they must remain in that state till 
 the lords of the inquisition chose to inspect them, for prisoners were 
 not allowed to read books. He also took an inventory of every thing 
 which Mr. Martin had about him, even to his very buttons ; and having 
 asked him a great number of frivolous questions, he at length gave 
 hirn these orders : " You must observe as great silence here, as if 
 you were dead ; you must not speak, nor whistle, nor sing, nor make 
 
THE mauisiTioN. 117 
 
 any noise that can be heard ; and if you hear any body cry or make 
 a noise, you must be still, and say nothing, upon pain of 200 lashes." 
 Mr. Martin asked if he might have liberty to walk about the room ; 
 the gaoler replied that he might, but it must be very softly. After 
 giving him some wine, bread, and a few wall nuts, the gaoler left him 
 till the morning. — It was frosty weather, the walls of the dungeon 
 were between two and three feet thick, the floor was bricked, and a 
 great deal of wind came through a hole of about a foot in length, and 
 five inches in breadth, which served as a window. The next morning 
 the gaoler came to light his lamp, and bade him light a fire in order to 
 dress his dinner. He then took him to a turn, or such a wheel as is 
 found at the doors of convents, where a person on the other side turns 
 the provisions round. He had then given him half a pound of mut- 
 ton, two pounds of bread, some kidney beans, a bunch of raisins, and 
 a pint of wine, which was the allowance for three days. He had 
 likewise two pounds of charcoal, an earthen stove, and a few other 
 articles. 
 
 In about a week he was ordered to an audience ; he followed the 
 gaoler, and coming to a large room, saw a man sitting between two 
 crucifixes ; and another with a pen in his hand, who was, as he after- 
 wards learned, the secretary. The chief lord inquisitor Avas the per- 
 son between the two crucifixes ; and appeared to be about sixty years 
 of age. He ordered Mr. M. to sit down upon a little stool that front- 
 ed him. A frivolous examination then took place; the questions re- 
 lated to his family, their religion, &c. and his own tenets of faith. The 
 prisoner admitted that he was a protestant, told the inquisitor that the 
 religion of Christ admitted of no persecution, and concluded with say- 
 ing that he hoped to remain in that religion. He underwent five ex- 
 aminations, without any thing serious being alleged against him. 
 
 In a few days after, he was called to his sixth audience, when after 
 a few immaterial interrogatories, the inquisitor told him the charges 
 against him should be read, and that he must give an immediate and 
 prompt answer to each respective charge. 
 
 The accusations against him were then read ; they amounted to 
 twenty-six, but were principally of the most trivial nature, and the 
 greater number wholly false, or, if founded on facts, so distorted and 
 perverted by the malice of his accusers, as to bear little resemblance 
 to the real occurrences to which they related. Mr. Martin answered 
 the whole of them firmly and discreetly, exposing their weakness, 
 and detecting their falsehood. 
 
 He was then remanded to his dungeon ; was shaved on Whitsun- 
 eve, (shaving being allowed only three times in the year ;) and the 
 next day one of the gaolers gave him some frankincense to be put 
 into the fire, as he was to receive a visit from the lords of the inqui- 
 sition. Two of them accordingly oame, asked many trivial questions, 
 concluding them, as usual, with " We will do you all the service we 
 can." Mr. Martin complained greatly of their having promised him 
 a lawyer to plead his cause ; " when instead of a proper person," 
 said he, " there was a person whom you called a lawyer, but he 
 never spoke to me, nor I to him : if all your lawyers are so quiet in 
 this country, they are the quietest in the world, for he hardly said any 
 thing but yes and no, to what your lordship said." To which one df 
 the inquisitors gravely replied, " Lawyers are not allowed to speak 
 
118 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 here." At this the gaoler and secretary went out of the dungeon to 
 laugh, and Mr. Martin could scarce refrain from smiling in their faces, 
 to think that his cause was to be defended by a man who scarce 
 dared to open his lips. Some time after he was ordered to dress 
 himself very clean : as soon as he was ready, one of the gaolers 
 came and told him, that he must go with him ; but that first he must 
 have a handkerchief tied about his eyes. He now expected the 
 torture ; but, after another examination, was remanded to his dun- 
 geon. 
 
 About a month afterwards, he had a rope put raund his neck, and 
 was led by it to the altar of the great church. Here his sentence 
 was pronounced, which was, that for the crimes of which he stood 
 convicted, the lords of the holy office had ordered him to be banished 
 out of the dominions of Spain, upon the penalty of 200 lashes, and 
 being sent five years to the galleys ; and that he should at present 
 receive 200 lashes through the streets of the city of Grenada. 
 
 Mr. Martin was sent again to his dungeon that night, and the next 
 morning the executioner came, stripped him, tied his hands together, 
 put a rope about his neck, and led him out of the prison. He was 
 then mounted on an ass, and received his 200 lashes, amidst the 
 shouts and peltings of the people. He remained a fortnight after this 
 in gaol, and at length was sent to Malaga. Here he was put in gaol 
 for some days, till he could be sent on board an English ship : which 
 had no sooner happened, than news was brought of a rupture between 
 England and Spain, and that ship, with many others, was stopped. 
 Mr. Martin, not being considered as a prisoner of war, was put on 
 board of a Hamburgh trader, and his wife and children soon came to 
 him ; but he was obliged to put up with the loss of his effects, which 
 had been embezzled by the inquisition. 
 
 His case was published by the desire of Secretary Craggs, the 
 archbishops of Canterbury and York, the bishops of London, Win- 
 chester, Ely, Norwich, Sarum, Chichester, St. Asaph, Lincoln, Bris- 
 tol, Peterborough, Bangor, &.c. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND SUFFERINGS OF MR. WILLIAM LITHGOW, 
 A NATIVE OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 William Lithgow was descended from a good family, and having a 
 natural propensity to travelling, he rambled, when very young, over 
 the Northern and Western Islands ; after which he visited France, 
 Germany, Switzerland, and Spain. He set out on his travels in March, 
 1609, and went to Paris, where he stayed for some time. He then 
 prosecuted his travels through Germany and other parts, and at length 
 arrived at Malaga, in Spain. 
 
 While he resided here, he contracted with the master of a French 
 ship for his passage to Alexandria, but was prevented from going by 
 the following circumstances : on the evening of the 17th of October, 
 1620, the English fleet, at that time on a cruise against the Algerine 
 rovers, came to anchor before Malaga, which threw the people of the 
 
WILLIAM LITHGOW Ijg 
 
 town into the greatest consternation, as they imagined them to be 
 Turks. The morning, however, discovered the mistake; and the 
 governor of Malaga perceiving that they bore the English flag, went 
 on board the admiral's ship, and on his return, banished the fears of 
 the people. 
 
 Many persons from on board the fleet came ashore the next day. 
 Among these were several friends of Mr. Lithgow, who invited him 
 on board, which invitation he accepted, and was kindly received by 
 the admiral. The fleet sailing for Algiers the next day, he returned 
 on shore, and proceeded towards his lodgings by a private way (being 
 to embark the same night for Alexandria,) when, in passing through 
 a narrow uninhabited street, he found himself suddenly surroimded 
 by nine sergeants, or officers, who threw a black cloak over him, and 
 forcibly conducted him to the governor's house. After some little 
 time the governor appeared, when Mr. Lithgow earnestly begged he 
 might be informed of the cause of such violent treatment. The go- 
 vernor only shook his head, and gave orders that the prisoner should 
 be strictly watched till he returned from his devotions ; directing, at 
 the same time, that the captain of the town, the alcaid major, and town 
 notary, should be summoned to appear at his examination, and that all 
 this should be done with the greatest secrecy, to prevent its reaching 
 the ears of the English merchants who resided in the town. 
 
 These orders were strictly fulfilled ; and on the governor's return, 
 Mr. Lithgow was brought before him for examination. The governor 
 began by asking several questions, as to what country he was native 
 of, whither he was going, how long he had been in Spain, <fec. The 
 prisoner, after answering these questions, was conducted to a closet, 
 where he was again examined by the town-captain, who inquired 
 whether he had lately come from Seville : and, pretending great 
 friendship, conjured him to tell the truth ; finding himself, however, 
 unable to extort any thing from Mr. Lithgow, he left him. 
 
 The governor then proceeded to enquire the quality of the English 
 commander, and the prisoner's opinion of the motives that prevented 
 his accepting an invitation from him to come on shore. He demand- 
 ed, likewise, the names of the English captains in the squadron, and 
 what knowledge he had of the embarkation, or preparation for it be- 
 fore its departure from England. His answers were set down in wri- 
 ting by the notary ; but the junto, particularly the governor, seemed 
 surprised at his denying any knowledge of the fitting out of the fleet, 
 and declared that he was a traitor and a spy, and came directly from 
 England to favour and assist in the designs of that country against 
 Spain ; and that he had been for that purpose nine months in Seville, 
 in order to procure intelligence of the time the Spanish navy was ex- 
 pected from the Indies. They exclaimed against his familiarity with 
 the officers of the fleet, and many other English gentlemen, between 
 whom, they said, unusual civilities had passed, but all these transac- 
 - tions had been noticed with peculiar attention. In short, they said, 
 he came from a council of war held that morning on board the admi- 
 ral's ship, in order to put in execution the orders assigned him. They 
 upbraided him with being accessary to the burning of the island of 
 St. Thomas in the West Indies ; " Wherefore," said they, " these 
 Lutherans, and sons of the devil, ought to have no credit given to what 
 they say or swear." 
 
120 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Mr. Lithgow in vain endeavoured to obviate every accusation laid 
 against him, and, in order to prove his innocence, begged that htS 
 papers might be examined ; this request was complied with ; but 
 although they consisted of passports and letters of recommendation 
 from persons of quality, the prejudiced judges refused all belief to 
 them, and their suspicions appeared to be confirmed rather than weak- 
 ened by the perusal. A consultation was then held as to where the 
 prisoner should be confined. The alcaid, or chief judge, was for put- 
 ting him in the town prison ; but this was objected to particularly by the 
 corregidore, who said, "In order to prevent the knowledge of his con- 
 finement from reaching his countrymen, I will take the matter on my- 
 self, and be answerable for the consequences ;" upon which it was 
 agreed, that he should be confined in the governor's house, and the 
 greatest secrecy observed. 
 
 He was then stripped, searched, and robbed of a large sum which 
 he had about him, by a sergeant, and confined in an apartment of the 
 governor's house. At midnight the sergeant and two Turkish slaves 
 released him from his confinement, but it was to introduce him to one 
 much more horrible. They conducted him through several passages 
 to a chamber in a remote part of the palace, towards the garden, 
 where they loaded him with irons, and extended his legs by means of 
 an iron bar above a yard long, the weight of which was so great that 
 he could neither stand nor sit, but was obliged to lie down continually 
 on his back. They left him in this condition for some time, when 
 they returned, bringing him a pound of boiled mutton and a loaf, 
 with a small quantity of wine ; after delivering which they again left 
 him. 
 
 He received a visit from the governor the next day, who promised 
 him his liberty, with many other advantages if he would confess being 
 a spy ; but on his protesting that he was entirely innocent, the go- 
 vernor left him in a rage, saying, he should see him no more till further 
 torments constrained him to confess ; commanding the keeper, to 
 whose care he was committed, not to allow his sustenance to exceed 
 three ounces of musty bread, and a pint of water every second day ; 
 and that he should be allowed neither bed, pillow, nor coverlet. 
 " Close up," said he, " this window in his room with lime and stone ; 
 stop up the holes of the door with double mats ; let him have nothing 
 that bears any likeness to comfort." The unfortunate Lithgow con- 
 tinued in this melancholy state, without seeing any person, for several 
 days, in which time the governor received an answer to a letter he 
 had written, relative to the prisoner, from Madrid ; and pursuant to 
 the instructions given him, began to put in practice the cruelties de- 
 vised, which they hastened, because Christmas approached, it being 
 then the 47th day since his confinement. 
 
 About three o'clock in the morning, he heard the noise of a coach 
 in the street, and some time after heard the opening of the prison 
 doors, not having had any sleep for two nights. Immediately after 
 the prison doors were opened, the nine sergeants, who had at first seized 
 him, with the notary, entered the place where he lay, and without ut- 
 tering a word conducted him in his irons into the street, where a 
 ooach waited, in which they laid him at the bottom on his back, being 
 unable to sit. Two of the sergeants rode with him, and the rest walk- 
 ed by the coach side, but all observed the most profound silence 
 
WILLIAM LITHGOW \^\ 
 
 They drove hira to a vine-press house, about a league from the town, 
 to which place a rack had been privately conveyed before ; and here 
 they shut him up for that night. 
 
 About day -break the next morning, the governor and the alcaid ar- 
 rived, into whose presence Mr. Lithgow was immediately brought, to 
 undergo another examination. The prisoner desired he might have 
 an interpreter, but was refused ; nor would they permit him to appeal 
 to the superior court of judicature, at Madrid. After a long examina- 
 tion, which lasted -the whole day, there appeared in all his answers so 
 exact a conformity with what he had before said, that they declared 
 he had learned them by heart. They, however, pressed him again to 
 make a full discovery ; that is, to accuse himself of crimes never 
 committed ; the governor adding, " You are still in my power ; I can 
 set you free if you comply : if not, I must deliver you to the alcaid." 
 Mr. Lithgow still persisting in his innocence, the governor ordered 
 him to be tortured immediately. 
 
 He was then conducted to the end of a stone gallery, where the 
 rack was placed. The executioner immediately sti*ck off his irons, 
 which put him to very great pain, the bolts being s(«losely rivetted 
 that the sledge hammer tore away about half an incl|joi' his heel in 
 forcing off the bolt ; the anguish of which, together '^ith his weak 
 condition (not having had the least sustenance for three days) occa- 
 sioned him to groan bitterly ; upon which the merciless alcaid said, 
 *' Villain ! traitor ! This is but the beginning of what you shall en- 
 dure." 
 
 As soon as his irons were off, he fell on his knees, uttering a short 
 prayer, that God would be pleased to enable him to be steadfast, and 
 undergo courageously the trial he had to encounter : he was then 
 stripped naked and fixed upon the rack. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the various tortures inflicted upon him. 
 He lay on the rack for above five hours, during which time he recei- 
 ved above sixty different 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 vvas 
 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 with her some refreshments, consisting of honey, sugar, 
 raisins, and other articles. 
 
 Mr. Lithgow was kept in this loathsome dungeon till he was almost 
 devoured with vermin. They crawled about his beard, lips, eye- 
 brovv^s, &c. 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. Lithgow at length received information which gave little hopes 
 of being released. The substance of this information was, 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 observations ; and that it was 
 commonly said in the governor's house, that he was an arch and dan 
 
 16 
 
}22 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 gerous heretic. About two days after he had received the above ifl- 
 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 supremacy ? 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 writings 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 
 mfluencing 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 other 
 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 our 
 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 which he answered, 
 " He had not any doubts in his mind, being confident in the promises 
 of Christ, and assuredly believing his revealed will 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 v/ith 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, which he had certainly done had he not been pre- 
 vented by the 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. 12$ 
 
 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, abave 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 with 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 fruits 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 Turk, 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 various 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 atonemen.t for the injuries he had received ; but that, upon 
 an inspection into his writings, several were found of a blasphemous 
 nature. That on his refusing to abjure these heretical opinions, he 
 was turned over to the inquisition, who finally condemned Lim. 
 
 While the governor was relating this tale, a Flemish youth, servant 
 
124 ~ ' BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 to the Spanish gentleman, who 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 Avas 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 Avhom 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, Avhen he was carried from his dungeon on the back of the 
 slave that had attended him, to 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 Eobert 
 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 satisfactory 
 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 at Deptford. The next morning Mr. 
 LithgOAV was carried on a feather bed to Theobalds, in Hertfordshire, 
 where, at that time, were the king and royal family. Mr. Lithgo%\ 
 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 
 
 terested themselves in his behalf. Gondamore, the Spanish ambassa- 
 dor, indeed promised that all his effects should be restored, with the 
 addition of lOOOZ. 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, imder 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 were 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 him^self. 
 
 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 Avere 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 conducted 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, where 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 
 
J 26 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 to the place of execution, out of the city, and there hanged him up by 
 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 protestanis they 
 could find within the city. This continued many days, but the gre" :- 
 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 v/as 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 were 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 were 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 aibove 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 my 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 
 sufler death. 
 
 Many honourable men, and great personages, were, at the same 
 time, murdered, namely, Count Rochefoucalt, Telinius, the admiral's 
 son-in-law, Antonius Claromontus, marquis of Ravely, Lewis Bus- 
 sius, Bandineus, Pleuvialius, Bernius, «fec. 
 
 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, master 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 town 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- 
 blv- arid cruelly murdered. Three hundred were slain in the arch- 
 bisiiop's house. The monks would not suffer their bodies to be 
 buried. 
 
 At Toulouse 200 were murdered. 
 
 At Rouen 500 were put to death ; and as Thuanus writes, " This 
 example 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, were 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 Bourdeaiix, 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 ^Emarus, 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 Igomna, which runs by the city. 
 
 On entering Blois, the duke of Guise, (to whom the city had opened 
 its gates) gave it up to rapine and slaughter ; houses were spoiled, 
 many protestants 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, was murdered, certain women 
 slain, and some ravished. 
 
 John Bergeolus, president of Turin, an old man, being suspected 
 to be a protestant, having bought with a great sum of money his life 
 and safety, was, notwithstanding, taken and beaten cruelly with clubs 
 and staves, and being stripped of his clothes, was brought to the bank 
 of the river Liger, and hanged with his head downward in the water 
 up to his breast ; then his entrails were torn out, while he was yet 
 alive, and thrown into the river, and his heart put upon a spear, and 
 carried about the city. 
 
 The town of Barre, being taken by the papists, all kinds of cruelty 
 were there used, children were cut to pieces, and their bowels and 
 hearts being torn out, some of the barbarians, in their blind rage, 
 gnawed them with their teeth. 
 
 At Aibia of Cahors, upon the Lord's day, the 16th of December, 
 
128 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 the papists, at the ringing of a bell, broke open the houses in vvhicn 
 the protestants were assembled, and killed all they could find ; amonj* 
 whom was one Guacerius, a rich merchant, whom they drew into hi;s 
 house, and then murdered him, with his wife and children. 
 
 In a town called Pemia, 300 persons (nolwithsianding their HireH 
 had been promised them) were murdered by Spaniards, who were 
 ncM'ly 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 without distinction were killed ; the streets 
 resounded with cries and groans, and flowed Avith blood. Many were 
 thrown down headlong from on high. Among others, the following 
 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 
 she had fled with her husband, Avas in his sight shamefully defiled : 
 and then being Commanded to draAv a sword, not knowing to what 
 end, was forced by others, who guided her hand, to give her husband 
 a wound, whereof he died. 
 
 Bordis, 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 thus speaks of him : " This was the end 
 of Lewis Bourbon, prince of Conde, of the king's blood, a man above 
 the honour of his birth, most honourable in courage and virtue ; who 
 in valour, constancy, wit, Avisdom, experience, courtesy, eloquence, 
 and liberality, all Avhich virtues excelled in him, had feAV equals, and 
 none, even by the confession of his enemies, superior to him." 
 
 At Orleans 100 men and Avomen being committed to prison, Avere. 
 by the furious people, most cruelly murdered. 
 
 The enemies of truth noAv glutted Avith slaughter, began every 
 where to triumph in the fallacious opinion, that they Avere 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 otherAvise decreed, 
 and thousands yet, Avho had not bowed the knee to Baal, Avere called 
 forth to glory and virtue. The inhabitants of Rochelle, hearing of 
 the cruelties committed on their brethren, resolved to defend them- 
 selves against the poAver of the king ; and their example was folloAved 
 by various other tOAvns, Avith Avhich they entered into a confederacy, 
 exhorting and inspiring one another in the common cause. To crush 
 this, the king shortly after summoned the whole poAver of France, and 
 the greatest of his nobility, among Avhora were his royal brothers ; he 
 then invested Rochelle by sea and land, and commenced a furious 
 siege, which, but for tlie immediate hand of God, must have ended in 
 its destruction. 
 
 Seven assaults were made against the town, none of which sue 
 
Massaa^e of St. Bartholomew. page 125. 
 
 Perseci tiom in Bohemia and Germany, page 130. 
 
 Jerome of Prague in the Slocks, page 137. 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN BOHEMIA. 129 
 
 ceeded. At one time a breach was made by the tremendous cannon- 
 ade ; but, through the undaunted valour of the citizens, assisted even 
 by th«ir 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 tliemselves 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. 
 
 PERl^CUTIONS 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 particul<>r fpere permitted to them, viz. to have divine ser- 
 vice ill iheir 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 j 
 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 Chris- 
 tians of the country. 
 
 17 
 
ISO BOOK OP MARTYRe. 
 
 The martyrdom 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 town, 
 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?" — " Nc 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 young lady watched her opportunity, leaped into 
 the waves, and, embracing the body of 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 by reading the doc- 
 trines of our countryman, John Wickliffe, who, like the morning star of reformation, 
 first burst ftoai the dark night of popish error, and illuminated the sunounding 
 woild. 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN BOHEMIA. ISl 
 
 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 they pleased, and then to make 
 report of the matter afterAvards. 
 
 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 with wires ; 
 they tied him up by the heels with his head downwards, till the blood 
 started out of his, nose, mouth, &c. ; 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 
 'ength, the winter being ±a,i aJmnced, 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 princirpally 
 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 confia- 
 
 ■w^: 
 
132 BOOK OP MARTYRB. 
 
 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 for 
 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 a£ 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 scafiblds 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 piartyrs, 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 LIFE, SUFFERINGS, AND MARTYRDOM OF ^TOHN HUSS. 
 
 John Huss was born in the village of Hussenitz, in Bohemia, about 
 the year 1380. His parents gave him the best education they could 
 bestow, and having acquired a tolerable knowledge of the classics, at 
 a private school, he was sent to the university 6t rrague, where the 
 powers of his mind, and his diligence in study, soon rendered him 
 conspicuous. 
 
 In 1408, he commenced bachelor of divinity, and was successively 
 chosen pastoT of the church of Bethlehem, in Prague, and dean and 
 rector of the tmiversity. 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 of 
 that seminary. 
 
 The English reformer, "Wickliffe, had so kindled the light of refor- 
 Wiation, that it began to illumine the darkest corners of popery and ig^ 
 
JOHN HUSS. 133 
 
 norance. 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 iricreasing, 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 Wickliffe, 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 confirined 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.* 
 I * Those vnn, John, proposed and set up by the Italians; Gregory, by the 
 
154 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 John Huss was summoned to appear at this council ; and to dispel 
 any apprehensions of danger, the emperor sent 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 afterwards 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 Wicklifle, 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- 
 demned 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 severest laws were enacted to crush the protestants. Pope John was de- 
 posed, and obliged to fly, the most heinous crimes being proved agamst him; among 
 which were, his attempt to poison his predecessor, his being a game^r, 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 with 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 questions 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 ta make a recantation. 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 efiect, 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 
 determined, 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 of his writings, we hei-e give one of the ar- 
 ticles for which he was condemned : " An evil and a wicked pope is not the soccessor of 
 Petes, but of Judaa," 
 
136 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 with all the magnanimity of a primitive martyr, thus exclaiined i 
 " 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 bo«nd 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 going 
 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 must 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 hyiyn; 
 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 HI. 
 
 LIFE, SUFFERINGS, AND MARTYRDOM OF JEROME OF PRAGVE. 
 
 This hero in the cause of truth, was born at Prague, and educated 
 in its university, where he soon became distinguished for his learning 
 and eloquence. Having completed his studies, he travelled over 
 
Persecution of the Waldenses. 'page 156. 
 
 Seventy Protestants killed in cold blood. 
 
 page 161 
 
JEROME OP PRAGUE. 537 
 
 great part of Europe, and visited many of the s€ats 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, withou,"- 
 any authority, at Hirsaw, by an ofiicer 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 broughtjforth, 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 WicklifFe were heretics. In consequence of this, his 
 chains were taken off, and he was treated more kindly ; he was, how- 
 
 18 
 
138 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 ever, still ooiifined, 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, however he refused to an- 
 swer, except in public, and was, accordingly, brought before the coun- 
 cil, when, to the 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 ; 
 ■w^hich 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, in 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 execaition 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, "^ome 
 here and kindle it before my eyes ; for had I been afraid of it, I had 
 not come 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 V* 
 
 ♦ Jerome was oi a fine and marily form, and possessed a strong and healthy constitu- 
 tion, which rendered his death extremely lingering and painful. He, however, sung till 
 his aspiring soul took its flight iioin its mortal habitation. 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN GERMAI<rr. 15'j 
 
 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 tlie 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 
 the 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 powerful 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, <fcc. &.c. 
 
 In 1631, a most bloody scene took place at the protestant city of 
 Magdeburg. The generals Tilly and Pappenheim, having taken it 
 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 town 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 OP 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 ourselves 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 
 must 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 
 restored 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 poor 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, increased 
 
PERSECUTION IN THE NETHERLANDS. 141 
 
 Ae 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 which she was confined, 
 promising to exert herself towards inducing 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 wooden 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 Avho 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 fai4^h ; soon after which he was 
 condemned, first to be beheaded, and afterwards to be burnt to ashes, 
 which sentence was 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 ToUeman, a cutler of Brussels, was a man of singular hu- 
 manity and piety. He was apprehended as a protestant, end 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, 
 
142 BOOK OP MARTYHe. 
 
 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 
 sen-tenced 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 hil5 great generosity, and almost univer- 
 sally revered for his inoffensive life and exemplary piety. A pri 
 vate execution was, therefore, determined on, for Avhich 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 with 
 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 sentenre 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 t^/ranny, 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. . 143 
 
 from the gospel. " But," said the judge, " will you die for the faith 
 you profess ?" " I am not only willing to die," replied Coomans, 
 " but also to suffer 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 Franche 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 fire-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, Avho 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 sufiering 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, gi-eat numbers suffered 
 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, wnile 
 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 followers 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 sufier 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 conspicuous places. 
 The city of Lesna, in this persecution, particularly suffered ; for be- 
 ing taken, the inhabitants were totally extirpated. 
 
 SECTION vn. 
 
 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 proportioned 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 CHINA. 145 
 
 ceeded in bringing over many to the truth. In 1630, however, this 
 tranquillity 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 coming to 
 any agreement, the new missionaries wrote an account of the affair to 
 the pope, and the society for the propagation of the Christian faith. 
 The society soon pronounced, that the ceremonies vv'ere 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, where 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 peate and wel- 
 fare of the empire. The pope, finding that he had not weighed the 
 affair with due consideration, sought to extricate himself from the dif- 
 ficulty m 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 
 was 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 life, being 
 then 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 1-552, when some Portuguese missionaries commenced their 
 endeavours to make converts to the light of the gospel, and met with 
 such success as amply compensated tlieir labours. They continued to 
 augment the number of their converts till 1616, when being accused 
 
 19 
 
146 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 1623, 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, and 
 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- 
 daution, to submit to the most rigorous treatment, and to carry on their 
 commerce with the utmost circumspection. 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 PJ£RS£CVTIONS OF THE PROTESTANTS, IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES NOT BB 
 FORE DESCRIBED. 
 
 SECnON L 
 
 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 into 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN TURKEY. I47 
 
 commotion, and a war 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 which conjunction, the primitive Chris- 
 tians of Abyssinia were 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." 
 Hp allowed that Christ 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, Phcenicia, Syria, Egypt, and 
 Persia. They soon, however, broke into divisions and wars amongst 
 themselves. 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 who 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 the 
 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 had yielded the 
 liberties of its church to the pope of Rome. A manifest want of patriotism was 
 evidenced in the inhabitants, who, instead of bringing forth their treasures to the 
 public Bervice and defence of the place, buried them in vast heaps ; inscHnuch, tbat 
 
148 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 selves masters of it, than they began to exercise on the inhabitants 
 the most unremitting barbarities, destroying them by every method 
 of ingenious cruelty. Some they roasted alive on spits, others they 
 starved, some they flayed alive, and left them in that horrid manner 
 to perish : many were sawn asunder, and others torn to pieces by 
 horses. Three days and nights was the city given to spoil, in which 
 time the soldiers were licensed to commit every enormity. The body 
 of the emperor being found among the slain, Mahomet commanded 
 his head to be stuck on a spear, and carried round the town for the 
 mockery of the soldiers. 
 
 Attack on Rhodes. 
 
 About the year 1521, Solyman the First took Belgrade from the 
 Christians. Two years after, he, with a fleet of 450 ships, and an 
 army of 300,000 men, attacked Rhodes, then defended by the knights 
 of Jerusalem. These heroes resisted the infidels till all their fortifi- 
 cations were levelled with the ground, their provisions exhausted, and 
 their ammunition spent ; when, finding no succours from the Christian 
 princes, they surrendered, the siege having lasted about six months, 
 in which the Turks suffered prodigiously, no less than 30,000 of them 
 having died by the bloody flux. After this, Solyman retook Buda 
 from the Christians, and treated those who were found there with 
 great cruelty. Some had their eyes put out, others their hands, noses, 
 and ears cut off. Pregnant women were ripped open, and their fruit 
 cast into the flames, while many children were buried up to their necks 
 in the earth, and left to perish. 
 
 Siege of Vienna. 
 
 Mad with conquest, Solyman now proceeded westward to Vienna, 
 glutting himself with slaughter on his march, and vainly hoping, in a 
 short time, to lay all Europe at his feet, and to banish Christianity 
 from the earth. 
 
 Having pitched his tent before the walls of Vienna, he sent three 
 Christian prisoners into the t-own, to terrify the citizens with an ac- 
 count of the strength of his army, while a great many more, whom 
 he had taken in his march, were torn asunder by horses. Happily 
 for the Germans, three days only before the arrival of the Turks, the 
 earl palatine Frederic, to whom was assigned the defence of Vienna, 
 had entered the town with 14,000 chosen veterans, besides a body 
 of horse. Solyman sent a summons for the city to surrender ; but the 
 Germans defying him, he instantly commenced the siege. It has 
 before been observed, that the religion of Mahomet promises to all 
 soldiers who die in battle, whatever be their crimes, immediate ad 
 mission to the joys of paradise. Hence arises that fury and teme- 
 rity which they usually display in fighting. They began with a most 
 tremendous cannonade, and made many attempts to take the city by 
 
 when Mahomet, suspecting the case, commanded the earth to be dug up, and found 
 immense hoar.'ls, he exclaimed, " How was it that this place lacked ammunition and 
 fortification, amidst such abundance of riches 7" The Turks found a crucifix in the 
 great church of St. Sophia, on the head of which they wrote, " This is the God of the 
 Christians," and then carried it with a trumpet around the city, and exposed it to the 
 contempt of the soldiers, who were commanded to spit upon it. Thus did the aupex- 
 stition of Rome afford a triumph to the enemies of the cross. 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN GEORGIA. 149, 
 
 assault. But the steady valour of the Germans was superior to the 
 enthusiasm of their enemies. Solyman, filled with indignation at 
 this unusual check to his fortune, determined to exert every power 
 to carry his project ; to this end he planted his ordnance before the 
 king's gate, and battered it with such violence, that a breach was soon 
 made ; whereupon the Turks, under cover of the smoke, poured in 
 torrents into the city, and the soldiers began to give up all for lost. 
 But the officers, with admirable presence of mind, causing a great 
 shouting to be made in the city, as if fresh troops had just arrived, 
 their own soldiers were inspired with fresh courage, while the Turks, 
 being seized with a panic, fled precipitously, and overthrew each 
 other, by which means the city was freed from destruction. 
 
 Victory of the Christians. 
 Grown more desperate by resistance, Solyman resolved upon an- 
 other attempt, and this was by undermining the Corinthian gate. 
 Accordingly he set his Illyrians to work, who were expert at this 
 mode of warfare. They succeeded in coming under ground to the 
 foundations of the tower ; but being discovered by the wary citizens, 
 they, with amazing activity and diligence, countermined them : and 
 having prepared a train of gunpowder, even to the trenches of the 
 enemy, they set fire to it, and by that means rendered abortive their 
 attempts, and blew up about 8,000 of them. Foiled in every at- 
 tempt, the courage of the Turkish chief degenerated into madness ; 
 he ordered his men to scale the walls, in which attempt they were 
 destroyed by thousands, their very numbers serving to their own 
 defeat, till, at length, the valour of his troops relaxed ; and, dreading 
 the hardihood of their European adversaries, they began to refuse 
 obedience. Sickness also seized their camp, and numbers perished 
 from famine ; for the Germans, by their vigilance, had found means 
 to cut ofi' their supplies. Foiled in ever) attempt, Solyman, at length, 
 after having lost above 80,000 men, resolved to abandon his enter- 
 prise. He accordingly put this resolve in execution, and, sending 
 his baggage before him, proceeded homewards with the titmost expe- 
 dition, thus freeing Europe from the impending terror of universal 
 Mahometanism. 
 
 Persecutions in Georgia and Mingrelia. 
 
 The Georgians are Christians, and being remarkable for their 
 beauty, the Turks and Persians persecute them by the most cruel 
 method. Instead of taking money for their taxes, they compel them 
 to deliver up their children, the females for concubines in the se- 
 raglios, maids of honour to sultanas, &.c. or to be sold to merchants 
 of different nations, who proportion their price to the beauty of the 
 devoted fair. The boys are taken for mutes and eunuchs in the se- 
 raglio, clerks in the offices of state, and soldiers in the army. 
 
 Westward of Georgia is Mingrelia, a country likewise inhabited 
 by Christians, who undergo the same persecutions and rigours as the 
 Georgians by the Turks and Persians, their children being torn from 
 thexn, or they murdered for refusing to consent to the sale. 
 
 Persecutions in the States of Barhary. 
 In no part of the globe are Christians so hated, or treated with 
 such severity, as at Algiers. The conduct of the Algerines towards 
 
150 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 them is marked with perfidy and cruelty. By paying a most exor- 
 bitant fine, some Christians are allowed the title of Free Christians ; 
 these are permitted to dress in the fashion of their respective coun- 
 tries, but the Christian slaves are obliged to wear a coarse gray suit, 
 and a seaman's cap. 
 
 The following are the various punishments exercised towards them : 
 1. If they join any of the natives in open rebellion, they are strang- 
 led with a bow-string, or hanged on an iron hook. 2. If they speak 
 against Mahomet, they must become Mahometans, or be impaled 
 alive. 3. If they profess Christianity again, after having changed 
 to the Mahometan persuasion, they are roasted alive, or thrown from 
 the city walls, and caught upon large sharp hooks, on which they hang 
 till they expire. 4. If they kill a Turk they are burnt. 5. If they 
 attempt to escape, and are retaken, they suffer death in the following 
 manner : they are hung naked on a high gallows by two hooks, the 
 one fastened quite through the palm of one hand, and the other 
 through the sole of the opposite foot, where they are left till death 
 relieves them. Other punishments for crimes committed by Chris- 
 tians are left to the discretion of the judges, who usually decree the 
 most barbarous tortures. 
 
 At Tunis, if a Christian is caught in attempting to escape, his limbs 
 are all broken ; and if he slay his master, he is fastened to the tail of 
 a horse, and dragged a%out the streets till he expires. 
 
 Fez and Morocco conjointly form an empire, and are the most 
 considerable of the Barbary states. The Christian slaves are treated 
 with the greatest rigour ; the rich have exorbitant ransoms fixed upon 
 them ; the poor are hard worked and half starved, and sometimes, by 
 the emperor, or their brutal masters, tliey are murdered. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS IN CALABRIA. 
 
 About the fourteenth century, a great many Waldenses of Pragela 
 and Dauphiny emigrated to Calabria, where, having received permis- 
 sion to settle in some waste lands, they soon, by the most industrious 
 cultivation, converted those wijd and barreu spots into regions of 
 beauty and fertility. 
 
 The nobles of Calabria were highly pleased with their new sub- 
 jects and tenants, finding them honest, quiet, and industrious ; but 
 the priests, filled with jealousy, soon exhibited complaints against 
 them, charging them with not being Roman Catholics, not making 
 any of their boys priests, nor making any of their girls nuns, not 
 going to mass, not giving wax tapers to their priests, as offerings, not 
 going on pilgrimages, and not bowing to images. 
 
 To these the Calabrian lords replied, that these people were ex- 
 tremely harmless, giving no offence to the Roman Catholics, but 
 cheerfully paying the tithes to the priests, whose revenues Avere con- 
 siderably increased by their coming into the country, and who, con- 
 sequently, ought to be the last persons to make a complaint. 
 
 Those enemies to truth being thus silenced, things went on in 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN CALABRIA. |^1 
 
 peace for a few years, during which the Waldenses formed them- 
 selves into two corporate towns, annexing several villages to their 
 jurisdiction. At length they sent to Geneva for two clergymen, one 
 to preach in each town. This being known, intelligence was con- 
 veyed to Pope Pius the Fourth, who determined to exterminate them 
 from Calabria without further delay. To this end Cardinal Alexan- 
 drino, a man of violent temper, and a furious bigot, was sent, together 
 with two monks, to Calabria, where they were to act as inquisitors. 
 These authorized persons came to St, Xist, one of the towns built by 
 the Waldenses, where, having assembled the people, they told them 
 that they should receive no injury if they would accept of preachers 
 appointed by the pope ; but if they refused, they should be deprived 
 both of their properties and lives ; and that to prove them, mass should 
 be publicly said that afternoon, at which they must attend. 
 
 But the people of St. Xist, instead of observing this, fled with their 
 families into the woods, and thus disappointed the cardinal and his 
 coadjutors. Then they proceeded to La Garde, the other town be- 
 longing to the Waldenses, where, to avoid the like disappointment, 
 they ordered the gates to be locked, and all avenues guarded. The 
 same proposals were then made to the inhabitants as had been made 
 to those of St. Xist, but with this artifice : the cardinal assured them 
 that the inhabitants of St. Xist had immediately come into his propo- 
 sals, and agreed that the pope should appoint them preachers. This 
 falsehood succeeded : for the people of La Garde, thinking what 
 the cardinal had told them to be truth, said they would exactly follow 
 the example of their brethren of St. Xist. 
 
 Having thus gained his point by a lie, he sent for two troops of sol- 
 diers with a vie'v to massacre the people of St. Xist. He accordingly 
 commanded the.a into the woods, to hunt them down like wild beasts, 
 and gave them strict orders to spare neither age nor sex, but to kill 
 all they came near. The troops accordingly entered the woods, and 
 many fell a prey to their ferocity, before the Waldenses were appri- 
 zed of their design. At length, however, they determined to sell 
 their lives as dearly as possible, when several conflicts happened, in 
 which the half-armed Waldenses performed prodigies of valour, and 
 many were slain on both sides. At length, the greater part of the 
 troops being killed in the difllerent rencounters, the remainder were 
 compelled to retreat ; which so enraged the cardinal, that he wrote 
 to the viceroy of Naples for reinforcements. 
 
 The viceroy, in obedience to this, proclaimed throughout the Nea' 
 politan tei'ritories, that all outlaws, deserters, and other proscribed 
 persons, should be freely pardoned for their several oflfences, on con- 
 dition of making a campaign against the inhabitants of St. Xist, and 
 < f continuing under arms till those people were destroyed. On this 
 several persons of desperate fortunes came in, and being formed into 
 ligh' companies, were sent to scour the woods, and put to death all 
 ...ay could meet with of the reformed religion. The viceroy himself 
 also joined the cardinal at the head of a body of regular forces ; 
 aa J, in conjunction, they strove to accomplish their bloody purpose. 
 Some they caught, and, suspending them upon trees, cut down boughs 
 and burnt them, or ripped them open, and left their bodies to be de- 
 voured by wild beasts or birds of prey. Many they shot at a dis- 
 tance ,- but the greatest number they hunted down by way of sport. 
 
152 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 A few escaped into caves ; but famine destroyed them in their re- 
 treat ; and the inhuman chase was continued till all these poor people 
 perished. 
 
 The inhabitants of St. Xist being exterminated, those of La Garde 
 engaged the attention of the cardinal and viceroy. The fullest pro- 
 tection was offered to themselves, their families, and their children, 
 if they would embrace the Roman Catholic persuasion ; but, on the 
 contrary, if they refused this mercy, as it was insolently termed, the 
 most cruel deaths would be the certain consequence. In spite of 
 the promises on one side, and menaces on the other, the Waldenses 
 unanimously refused to renounce their religion, or embrace the errors 
 of popery. The cardinal and viceroy were so enraged at this, that 
 they ordered thirty of them to be put immediately to the rack, as a 
 terror to the others. Several of these died under the torture: one 
 Charlin, in particular, was so cruelly used, that his belly burst, his 
 bowels came out, and he expired in the greatest agonies. These 
 barbarities, however, did not answer the end for which they were in- 
 tended ; for those who survived the torments of the rack, and those 
 who had not felt it, remained equally constant in their faith, and 
 boldly declared, that nothing, either of pain or fear, should ever in- 
 duce them to renounce their God, or bow down to idols. The inhu- 
 man cardinal then ordered several of them to be stripped naked, and 
 whipped to death with iron rods : some were hacked to pieces with 
 large knives ; others were thrown from the top of a high tower ; and 
 many were cased over with pitch and burnt alive. 
 
 One of the monks who attended the cardinal, discovered a most 
 inhuman and diabolical nature. He requested that he might shed 
 some of the blood of these poor people with his own hands ; his 
 request being granted, the monster took a large sharp knife, and cut 
 the throats of fourscore men, women, and children. Their bodies 
 were then quartered, the quarters placed upon stakes, and fixed in 
 different parts of the country. 
 
 The four principal men of La Garde were hanged, and the clergy- 
 man was thrown from the top of his church steeple. He was dread- 
 fully crushed, but not quite killed by the fall. The viceroy being 
 present, said, " Is the dog yet living ? Take him up, and cast him to 
 the hogs ;" which brutal sentence was actually put in execution. 
 
 The monsters, in their hellish thirst of cruelty, racked sixty of the 
 women with such severity, that the cords pierced their limbs quite 
 to the bone. They were after this remanded to prison, Avhere their 
 wounds mortified, and they died in the most miserable manner. Many 
 others were put to death by various means ; and so jealous and arbi- 
 trary were those monsters, that if any Roman Catholics, more compas- 
 sionate than the rest, interceded for any of the reformed, he was im- 
 mediately apprehended, and sacrificed as a favourer of heretics. 
 
 The viceroy being obliged to return to Naples, and the cardinal hav- 
 ing been recalled to Rome, the marquis of Butiane was commissioned 
 to complete what they had begun ; which he at length effected by act- 
 ing with such barbarous rigour, that there was not a single person of 
 the reformed religion left in all Calabria. Thus Avere a great number 
 of inoffensive and harmless people deprived of their possessions, 
 robbed of their property, driven from their homes, and, at length, 
 murdered, only because they would not sacrifice their consciences to 
 
PERSECUTIONS OF THE WALDENSES. 153 
 
 the superstitions of others, embrace doctrines which they abhorred, 
 and attend to teachers whom they could not believe. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS IN THE VALLEYS OF PIEDMONT. 
 
 The Waldenses, in consequence of the continued persecutions they 
 met with in France, fled for refuge to various parts of the world ; 
 among other places, many of them sought an asylum in the Valleys 
 of Piedmont, where they increased and flourished exceedingly for a 
 considerable time. 
 
 Notwithstanding their harmless behaviour, inoffensive conversa- 
 tion, and their paying tithes to the Romish clergy, the latter could not 
 be contented, but sought to give them disturbance, and accordingly 
 complained to the archbishop of Turiivthat the Waldenses were here* 
 tics ; upon which he ordered a persecution to be commenced, in 
 consequence of which many fell martyrs to the superstitious rage of 
 the monks and priests. 
 
 At Turin, one of the reformed had his bowels torn out and put into 
 a bason before his face, where they remained, in his view, till he eX" 
 pired. At Revel, Catelin Girard being at the stake, desired the exe- 
 cutioner to give him up a stone, which he refused, thinking that he 
 meant to throw it at somebody ; but Girard assuring him that he had 
 no such design, the executioner complied; when Girard, looking 
 earnestly at the stone, said, " When it is in the power of a man to 
 eat and digest this stone, the religion for which I am about to suffer 
 shall have an end, and not before." He then threw the stone on the 
 ground, and submitted cheerfully to the flames. A great many more 
 were oppressed, or put to death, till, wearied with their sufferings, 
 the Waldenses flew to arms in their defence, and formed themselves 
 into regular bodies. Full of revenge at this, the archbishop of Turin 
 sent troops against them ; but in most of the skirmishes the Wal- 
 denses were victorious ; for they knew, if they were taken, they 
 should not be considered as prisoners of war, but be tortured to death 
 as heretics. 
 
 Noble Conduct of the Duke of Savoy. 
 
 Philip the Seventh, who was at this time duke of Savoy, and su- 
 preme lord of Piedmont, determined to interpose his authority, and 
 stop these bloody wars, which so disturbed his dominions. Never- 
 theless, unwilling to offend the pope, or the archbishop of Turin, he 
 sent them both messages, importing, that he could not any longer 
 tamely see his dominions overrun with troops, who were commanded 
 by prelates in the place of generals ; nor would he suffer his country 
 to be depopulated, while he himself had not been even consulted 
 upon the occasion. 
 
 The priests, perceiving the determination of the duke, had re- 
 course to the usual artifice,, and endeavoured to prejudice his mind 
 against the Waldenses ; but he told them, that although he was unac- 
 quainted with the religious tenets of these people, yet he had always 
 
 20 
 
154 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 found them quiet, faithfbl, and obedient, and was, therefore, determiit* 
 ed they ghould be persecuted no longer. The priests then vented 
 the most palpable and absurd falsehoods ; they assured the duke that 
 he was mistaken in the Waldenses, for they were a wicked set of 
 people, and highly addicted to intemperance, uncleanness, blasphemy, 
 adultery, incest, and many other abominable crimes ; and that they 
 were even monsters in nature, for their children were born with 
 black throats, with four rows of teeth, and bodies covered with hair. 
 But the duke was not so to be imposed upon, notwithstanding the 
 solemn affirmations of the priests. ,In order to come at the truth, he 
 sent twelve gentlemen into the Piedmontese valleys, to examine into 
 the real character of the people. 
 
 These gentlemen, after travelling through all the towns and vil- 
 lages, and conversing with the Waldenses of every rank, returned to 
 the duke, and gave him the most favourable account of them ; affirm- 
 ing, in contradiction to the priests, that they were harmless, inoffisn- 
 sive, loyal, friendly, industrious, and pious ; that they abhorred the 
 crimes of which they were accused ; and that, should an individual, 
 through his depravity, fall into any of those crimes, he would, by their 
 laws, be punished in the most exemplary manner. With respect ^,o 
 the children, of whom the priests had told the most gross and ridicu- 
 lous falsehoods, they were neither born with black throats, teeth in 
 their mouth, nor hair on their bodies, but were as fine children as 
 could be seen. " And to convince your highness of what we have 
 said," continued one of the gentlemen, " we have brought twelve of 
 the principal male inhabitants, who are come to ask pardon, in the 
 name of the rest, for having taken up arms without your leave, 
 though even in their own defence, arid to preserve their lives from 
 their merciless enemies. We have likewise brought several women, 
 with children of various ages, that your highness may have an oppor- 
 tunity of judging for yourself." His highness then accepted the apo- 
 logy of the twelve delegates, conversed Avith the women, examined 
 the children, and afterwards graciously dismissed them. He then 
 commanded the priests, who had attempted to mislead him, imme- 
 diately to leave the court ; and gave strict orders, that the persecu- 
 tion should cease throughout his dominions. 
 
 During the remainder of the reign of this virtuous prince, the 
 Waldenses enjoyed repose in their retreats ; but, on his death, this 
 happy scene changed, for his successor was a bigoted papist. About 
 the same time, some of the principal Waldenses proposed, that their 
 clergy should preach in public, that every one might know the purity 
 of their doctrines ; for hitherto they had preached only in private, 
 and to such congregations as they well knew to consist of nons but 
 persons of the reformed religion. 
 
 When this reached the ears of the new duke, he was greatly exas- 
 perated, and sent a considerable body of troops into the valleys, 
 swearing, that if the people would not conform to the Romish faith, he 
 would have them flayed alive. The commander of the troops soon 
 found the impracticability of conquering them with the number of men 
 then under him ; he, therefore, sent word to the duke, that the idea 
 of subjugating the Waldenses with so small a force was ridiculous ; 
 that they were better acquainted with the' country than any that were 
 with him ; that they had secured all the passes, were well armed, and 
 
PERSECUTIONS OP THE WALDENSES 155 
 
 determined to defend themselves. Alarmed at this, the duke com- 
 manded his troops to return, determining to act by stratagem. He, 
 therefore, ordered rewards for taking any of the Waldenses, who 
 might be found straying from their places of security; and these,, 
 when taken, were either flayed alive or burnt. 
 
 Pope Paul the Third, a furious bigot, ascending the pontifical chair 
 immediately solicited the parliament of Turin to persecute the Wal- 
 denses, as the most pernicious of all heretics. To this the parliament 
 readily assented, when several were suddenly seized and burnt by 
 their order. Among these was Bartholomew Hector, a bookseller 
 of Turin. He had been brought up a Roman Catholic, but some trea- 
 tises written by the reformed clergy having fallen into his hands, he 
 was fully convinced of their truth, and of the errors of the church of 
 Rome ; yet his mind was, for some time, wavering between fear and 
 duty, when, after serious consideration, he fully embraced the re- 
 formed religion, and was apprehended, as we have already mention- 
 ed, and burnt, 
 
 A consultation was again held by the parliament of Turin, in which 
 it was agreed that deputies should be sent to the valleys of Piedmont 
 with the following propositions : — 1. That if the Waldenses would 
 return to the bosom of the church of Rome, they should enjoy their 
 houses, properties, and lands, and live with their families, without the 
 least molestation. 2. That to prove their obedience, they should 
 send twelve of their principal persons, with all their ministers and 
 schoolmasters, to Turin, to be dealt with at discretion. 3. That the 
 pope, the king of France, and the duke of Savoy, approved of, and 
 authorized the proceedings of the parliament of Turin, upon this oc- 
 casion. 4. That if the Waldenses of Piedmont rejected these pro- 
 positions, persecution and death should be their reward. 
 
 In answer to these hostile articles, the Waldenses made the follow- 
 ing noble replies : — 1. That no consideration whatever should make 
 them renounce their religion. 2. That they would never consent to 
 intrust their best friends to the custody and discretion of their worst 
 enemies, 3. That they valued the approbation of the King of kings, 
 who reigns in heaven, more than any temporal authority. 4. That 
 their souls were more precious than their bodies. 
 
 As may be conjectured, these spirited and pointed answers greatly 
 exasperated the parliament of Turin ; in consequence of which, they 
 continued, with more avidity than ever, to seize such Waldenses as 
 unfortunately had strayed from their hiding-places, and put them to 
 the most cruel deaths. 
 
 They soon after solicited from the king of France a considerable 
 body of troops, in order to exterminate the reformed from Piedmont ; 
 but just as the troops were about to march, the protestant princes of 
 Germany interposed, and threatened to send troops to assist the Wal- 
 denses. On this, the king of France, not wishing to enter into a war, 
 remanded the troops. This greatly disappointed the sanguinary 
 members of the parliament, and for want of power the persecution 
 gradually ceased, and they could only put to death such as they 
 caught by chance, which, owing to the caution of the Waldenses, 
 were very few. 
 
 After a few years tranquillity, they were again disturbed in the fol- 
 lowing manner : The pope's nuncio, coming to Turin, told the dukef 
 
156 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 he was astonished that he had not yet either rooted out the Walden- 
 ses from Piedmont entirely, or compelled them to return to the church 
 of Rome. That such conduct in him awakened suspicion, and that 
 he really thought him a favourer of those heretics, and should accord- 
 ingly report the affair to the pope. Roused by this reflection, and 
 fearful of being misrepresented to the pope, the duke determined to 
 banish those suspicions ; and, to prove his zeal, resolved to persecute 
 the unoffending Waldenses. He, accordingly, issued express orders 
 for all to attend mass regularly, on pain of death. This they abso- 
 lutely refused to do, on which he entered Piedmont with a great body 
 of troops, and began a most furious persecution, in which great num- 
 bers were hanged, drowned, ripped open, tied to trees, pierced with 
 prongs, thrown from precipices, burnt, stabbed, racked to death, wor- 
 ried by dogs, and crucified with their heads downwards. Those who 
 fled had their goods plundered and their houses burnt. When lliey 
 caught a minister or a schoolmaster, they put him to such exquisite 
 tortures, as are scarcely credible. If any whom they took seemed 
 wavering in their faith, they did not put them to death, but sent them 
 to the galleys, to be made converts by dint of hardships. 
 
 In this expedition, the duke was accompanied by three men who 
 resembled devils, viz. 1. Thomas Incomel, an apostate, brought 
 up in the reformed religion, but who had renounced his faith, embraced 
 the errors of popery, and turned monk. He was a great libertine, 
 given to unnatural crimes, and most particularly solicitous for the 
 plunder of the Waldenses. 2. Corbis, a man of a very ferocious and 
 cruel nature, whose business was to examine the prisoners. 3. The 
 provost of justice, an avaricious wretch, anxious for the execution of 
 the Waldenses, as every execution added to his hoards. 
 
 These three monsters were immerciful to the last degree : Avherever 
 they came, the blood of the innocent was shed. But, besides the 
 cruelties exercised by the duke with these three persons and the army 
 in their different marches, many local barbarities took place. At 
 Pignerol was a monastery, the monks of which finding they might 
 injure the reformed with impunity, began to plunder their houses, 
 and pull down their churches ; and not meeting with opposition, they 
 next seized upon the persons of those unhappy people, murdering the 
 men, confining the women, and putting the children to Roman Catho- 
 lic nurses. 
 
 In the same manner the Roman Catholic inhabitants of the valley 
 of St. Martin did all they could to torment the neighbouring Walden- 
 ses ; they destroyed their churches, burnt their houses, seized their 
 property, carried aAvay their cattle, converted their lands to their own 
 use, committed their ministers to the flames, and drove the people to 
 the woods, where they had nothing to subsist on but wild fruits, the 
 bark of trees, roots, &c. &c. 
 
 Some Roman Catholic rufiians having seized a minister, as he was 
 going to preach, determined to take hitn to a convenient place, and 
 burn him. His parishoners hearing of this, armed them.selves, pur- 
 sued and attacked the villains ; who, finding they could not execute 
 their first intent, stabbed the poor gentleman, and, leaving him Avel- 
 tering in his blood, made a precipitate retreat. His parishioners did 
 all they could to recover him, but in vain ; for he expired as they were 
 ear^ying bini home. 
 
PERSECUTIONS OP THE WALDENSES. [57 
 
 The monks of Pignerol having a great desire to get into iheir pos- 
 session a minister of the town of St. Germain, hired a band of ruf- 
 fians for the purpose of seizing him. These fellows were conducted 
 by a treacherous servant to the clergyman, who knew a secret way 
 to the house, by which he could lead them without alarming the 
 neighbourhood. The guide knocked at the door, and being asked 
 who was there, answered in his own name. The clergyman, expect- . 
 ing no injury from a person on whom he had heaped favours, imme- 
 diately opened the door ; perceiving the ruffians, he fled, but they 
 rushed in and seized him. They then murdered all his family; 
 after which they proceeded with their captive towards Pignerol, goad- 
 ing him all the way. He was confined a considerable time in prison, 
 and then burnt. 
 
 The murderers continuing their assaults about the town of St. Ger- 
 main, murdering and plundering many of the inhabitants, the reformed 
 of Lucerne and Angrogne sent some armed men to the assistance of 
 their brethren. The«e men frequently attacked and routed the ruf- 
 fians, which so alarmed the monks, that they left their monastery of 
 Pignerol, till they could procure regular troops for their protection. 
 
 The duke of Savoy, not finding himself so successful as he at first 
 imagined he should be, augmented his forces, joined to them the ruf- 
 fians, and commanded that a general delivery should take place in the 
 prisons, provided the persons released would bear arms, and assist in 
 the extermination of the Waldenses. 
 
 No sooner were the Waldenses informed of these proceedings, than 
 they secured as much of their property as they could, and, quitting 
 the valleys, retired to the rocks and caves among the Alps. 
 
 The army no sooner reached their destination than they began to 
 plunder and burn the towns and villages ; but they could not force 
 the passes of the Alps, gallantly defended by the Waldenses, who, in 
 those attempts, always repulsed their enemies ; but if any fell into the 
 hands of the troops, they were treated in the most barbarous manner. 
 A soldier having caught one of them, bit his right ear off", saying, " I 
 will carry this member of that wicked heretic with me into my own 
 country, and preserve it as a rarity." He then stabbed the man, and 
 threw him into a ditch. 
 
 At one time, a party of troops found a venerable man, upwards of 
 an hundred years of age, accompanied by his grand-daughter, a maiden, 
 of about eighteen, in a cave. They murdered the poor old man in a 
 most inhuman manner, and then attempted to ravish the girl, when she 
 started away, and being pursued, threw herself from a precipice and 
 was dashed to pieces. 
 
 Determined, if possible, to expel their invaders, the Waldenses en- 
 tered into a league with the protestant powers in Germany, and with 
 the reformed of Dauphiny and Pragela. These were respectively to 
 furnish bodies of troops ; and the Waldenses resolved, when thus re- 
 inforced, to quit the mountdins of the Alps, where they soon must have 
 perjshed, as the winter was coming on, and to force the duke's army 
 to evacuate their native valleys. 
 
 But the duke of Savoy himself was tired of the war, it having cost 
 him great fatigue and anxiety of mind, a vast number of men, and 
 very considerable sums of money. It had been much more tedious 
 and bloody than he expected, as well as more expensive than he a4 
 
158 BOOR OF MARTYRS. 
 
 first imagined, for he thought the plunder would have discharged the 
 expenses of the expedition : in this, however, he was mistaken ; for 
 the pope's nuncio, the bishops, monks, and other ecclesiastics, who 
 attended the army, and encouraged the war, sunk the greatest part of. 
 the wealth that was taken, under various pretences. For these rea- 
 sons, and the death of his dutchegs, of which he had just received in- 
 telligence, and fearing that the Waldenses, by the treaties they had 
 entered into, would become too powerful for him, he determined to 
 return to Turin with his army, and to make peace with them. 
 
 This resolution he put in practice, greatly against the wish of the 
 ecclesiastics, who, by the war, gratified both their avarice and revenge. 
 Before the articles of 'peace could be ratified, the duke himse«lf died; 
 but, on his death bed, he strictly enjoined his son to perform what he 
 had intended, and to be as favourable as possible to the Waldenses. 
 
 Charles Emanuel, the duke's son, succeeded to the dominions of 
 Savoy, and fully ratified the peace with the Waldenses, according to 
 the last injunctions of his father, though the priests used all their arts, 
 to dissuade him from his purpose. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 IH^ persecutions in VENICE. 
 
 Before the terrors of the inquisition were known at Venice, a greatr 
 number of protestants fixed their residence there, and many converts 
 were made by the purity of their doctrines, and the inoffensiveness 
 of their conversation. 
 
 The pope no sooner learned the great increase of protestantism, 
 than he, in the year. 1542, sent inquisitors to Venice, to apprehend 
 such as they might deem obnoxious. Hence a severe persecution 
 began, and many persons were martyred for serving God with since- 
 rity, and scorning the trappings of superstition. 
 
 Various were the modes by which the protestants were deprived of 
 life ; but one in particular, being both new and singular, we shall de- 
 scribe : as soon as sentence was passed, the prisoner had an iron 
 chain, to which was suspended a great stone, fastened to his body ; 
 he was then laid flat upon a plank, with his face upwards, and rowed 
 between two boats to a certain distance at sea, when the boats sepa- 
 rated, and, by the weight of the stone, he was sunk to the bottom. 
 
 If any dared to deny the jurisdiction of the inquisitors at Venice, 
 they were conveyed to Rome, where, being committed to damp and 
 nauseous dungeons, their flesh mortified, and a most miserable death 
 ensued. 
 
 A citizen of Venice, named Anthony Ricetti, being apprehended as 
 a protestant, was sentenced to be drowned in the manner above de- 
 scribed. A few days previous. to his execution, his son went to him, 
 and entreated him to recant, that his life might be saved, and himself 
 not left an orphan. To this the father replied, " A good Christian is 
 bound to relinquish not only goods and children, but life itself, for the 
 glory of his Redeemer." The nobles of Venice likewise sent him 
 word, that if he would embrace the Roman Catholic religion, they 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN ITALY. J 59 
 
 would not only grant him life, but redeem a considerable estate which 
 he had mortgaged, and freely present him with it. This, however, 
 he absolutely refused to comply with, saying that he valued his soul 
 beyond all other considerations. Finding all endeavours to persuade 
 him inetfectual, they ordered the execution of his sentence, which 
 took place accordingly, and he died recommending his soul fervently 
 to his Redeemer. 
 
 Francis Sega, another Venetian, steadfastly persisting in his faith, 
 was executed, a few days after Ricetti, in the same manner. 
 
 Francis Spinola, a protestant gentleman of great learning, was ap- 
 prehended by order of the inquisitors, and carried before their tribunal. 
 A treatise on the Lord's Supper was then put into his hands, and he 
 was aoked if he knew the author of it. To which he replied, " I con- 
 fess myself its author; and solemnly affirm, that there is not a line in 
 it but what is authorized by, and consonant to, the Holy Scriptures." 
 On this confession he was committed close prisoner to a dungeon. 
 After remaining there several days, he was brought to a secoi^ ex- 
 amination, when he charged the pope's legate, and the inquisitors, 
 with being merciless barbarians, and represented the superstition and 
 idolatry of the church of Rome in so strong a light, that, unable to re- 
 fute his arguments, they recommitted him to his dungeon. Being 
 brought up a third time, they asked him if he would recant his errors, 
 to which he answered, that the doctrines he maintained were not er- 
 roneous, being purely the same as those which Christ and his apostles 
 had taught, and which were handed down to us in the sacred scrip- 
 tures. The inquisitors then sentenced him to be drowned, which was 
 executed in the manner already described. He went to death with 
 joy, thinking it a happiness to be so soonusheredinto the world of glory, 
 to dwell with God and the spirits of just men made perfect. 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 MARTYRDOMS IN VARIOUS PARTS OF ITALY. 
 
 John Mollius was born at Rome, of a respectable family. At twelve 
 years old his parents placed him in a monastery of gray friars, where 
 he made so rapid a progress in his studies, that he was admitted to 
 priest's orders at the early age of eighteen years. He was then sent 
 to Ferrara, where, after six years further study, he was appointed theo- 
 logical reader in the university of that ctty. Here he began to exer- 
 cise his great talents to disguise the gospel truths, and to varnish over 
 the errors of the church of Rome. Having passed some years here, he 
 rehioved to the university of Benonia, where he became a professor. 
 At length, happily reading some treatises written by ministers of the 
 reformed religion, he was suddenly struck with the errors of popery, 
 and became in his heart a zealous protestant. He now determined to 
 expound, in truth and simplicity, St. Paul's epistle to the Romans, in 
 a regular course of sermons ; at each of which he was attended by a 
 vast concourse of people. But when the priests learned his doctrines, 
 they despatched an account thereof to Rome ; upon which the pope 
 sent Cornelius, a monk, to Benonia, to expound the same epistle, ac 
 
160 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 cording to his own tenets, and to controvert tke doctrine of Mollius. 
 The people, however, found such a disparity between the two preach- 
 ers, that the audience of Mollius increased, while Cornelius preached 
 to empty benches. The latter, on this, wrote of his bad success to the 
 pope, who immediately ordered Mollius to be apprehended. He was 
 seized accordingly, and kept in close confinement. The bishop of 
 Benonia sent him word that he must recant or be burnt ; but he ap- 
 pealed to Rome, and was in consequence removed thither. Here he 
 begged to have a public trial ; but this the pope absolutely denied him, 
 and commanded him to explain his opinions in writing, Avhich accord- 
 ingly he did on scripture authority. The pope, for reasons of policy, 
 spared him for the present ; but, in 1553, had him hanged, and his 
 body afterwards burnt to ashes. 
 
 Francis Gamba, a Lombard, and a protestant, was apprehended, 
 and condemned to death by the senate of Milan, in the year 1554. 
 At the place of execution, he was presented by a monk with a cross. 
 " My mind," said Gamba, " is so full of the real merits and goodness 
 of Christ, that I want not a piece of senseless stick to put me in mind 
 of him." For this expression his tongue was bored through, after 
 which he was committed to the flames. 
 
 About the same period Algerius, a learned and accomplished student 
 in the university of Padua, embraced the reformed religion, and was 
 zealous in the conversion of others. For these proceedings he was ac- 
 cused of heresy to the pope, and being apprehended, was committed to 
 the prison at Venice, whence he wrote to his converts at Padua the 
 following celebrated and beautiful epistle. 
 
 " Dear Friends, 
 
 " I CANNOT omit this opportunity of letting you know the sincere 
 pleasure I feel in my confinement: to suflfer for Christ is delectable 
 indeed ; to undergo a little transitory pain in this world, for his sake, , 
 is cheaply purchasing a reversion of eternal glory, in a life that is ever- 
 lasting. Hence I have found honey in the entrails of a lion ; a para- 
 dise in a prison ; tranquillity in the house of sorrow : where others 
 weep, I rejoice ; where others tremble and faint, I find strength and 
 courage. The Almighty alone confers these favours on me ; be his 
 the glory and the praise. 
 
 " How different do I find myself from what I was before I embraced 
 the truth in its purity ! I was then dark, doubtful, and in dread ; I 
 am now enlightened, certain, and full of joy. He that was far from 
 me, is present with me ; he comforts my spirit, heals my grief, 
 strengthens my mind, refreshes my heart, and fortifies my soul. 
 Learn, therefore, how merciful and amiable the Lord is, who supports 
 his servants under temptations, expels their sorrows, lightens their 
 afliictions, and even visits them with his glorious presence in the gloom 
 of a dismal dungeon. 
 
 "Your sincere friend, 
 
 "Algerius." 
 
 The pope being informed of Algerius's great learning and abilities* 
 sent for him to Rome, and tried, by every means, to win him to his 
 purpose. But finding his endeavours hopeless, he ordered him to be 
 burnt. 
 

 ToTtwes of the Inquisition. poge 110. 
 
 Coccicao whipped through the streets. i-'o^'t- 114. 
 
 J. Martin in the Inquisition, page 116. 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN SALUCES. 1^1 
 
 In 1559, John Alloisius, a protestant teacher, having come from 
 Geneva to preach in Calabria, was there apprehended, carried to 
 Rome, and burnt, by order of the pope ; and at Messina, James Bo- 
 vellus was burnt for the same offence. 
 
 In the year 1560, Pope Pius the Fourth commenced a general per- 
 secution of the protestants throughout the Italian states, when great 
 numbers of every age, sex, aad condition; suflered martyrdom. Con- 
 cerning the cruelties practised upon this occasion, a learned and hu- 
 mane Roman Catholic thus speaks in a letter to a nobleman : 
 
 " I cannot, my lord, forbear disclosing my sentiments with respect 
 to the persecution now carrying on. I think it cruel and unneces- 
 sary; I tremble at the manner of putting to death, as it resembles 
 more the slaughter of calves and sheep, than the execution of human 
 beings. I will relate to your lordship a dreadful scene, of which I 
 was myself an eye witness : seventy protestants were cooped up in 
 one -filthy dungeon together ; the executioner Avent in among them, 
 picked out one from among the rest, blindfolded him, Ifcd him out to 
 an open place before the prison, and cut his throat with the greatest 
 composure. He then calmly walked into the prison again, bloody as 
 he was, and, with the knife in his hand, selected another, and dis- 
 patched him in the same manner; and this, my lord, he repeated, till 
 the whole number were put to death. I leave it to your lordship's 
 feelings to judge of my sensations upon the occasion ; my tears now 
 wash the paper upon which I give you the recital. Another thing I 
 must mention, the patience with which they met death ; they seemed 
 all resignation and piety, fervently praying to God, and cheerfully 
 encountering their fate. I cannot reflect without shuddering, how 
 the executioner held the bloody knife between his teeth ; what a 
 dreadful figure he appeared, all covered with blood, and with what 
 unconcern he executed his barbarous office !" 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS IN THE MARQUIBATE OF SALUCES. 
 
 The marquisate of Saluces, or Saluzzo, is situated on the south side 
 of the valleys of Piedmont, and, in the year 1561, was principally 
 inhabited by protestants, when the marquis began a persecution 
 against them at the instigation of the pope. He commenced by 
 banishing the ministers ; if any of whom refused to leave their flocks, 
 they were imprisoned, and severely t<:rtured ; he did not, however, 
 put any to death. 
 
 A little time after, the marquisate fell into the possession of the 
 duke of Savo)^ who sent circular letters to all the towns and villages, 
 that he expected the people should all go to mass. Upon this the 
 inhabitants of Saluces returned a submissive, yet manly answer, en- 
 treating permission, to continue in the practice of the religion of their 
 forefathers. 
 
 This letter, for a time, seemed to pacify the duke, but, at length, he 
 sent them word, that they must either conform to his former cCTiimands, 
 or leave his dominions! in fifteen days. The protestants, upou thia 
 
 21 
 
162 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 unexpected edict, sent a deputy to the duke to obtain his revocation, 
 or at least to have it moderated. Their petitions, however, were 
 vain, and they 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 theii 
 property ; others removed, with all their effects, to difi'erent 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 swear 
 any thing against them for the sake of the reward, and then fly to 
 their own priests 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 tlie 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 duke published a proclaiuation, granting an exemption for five 
 years from all taxes to every protestant who should become a catho- 
 hc. 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 
 priyately be brought up Roman Catholics ; but now they took away 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN PIEDMON^T. 
 
 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 pai'ties, 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, within 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 who 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 pei'petrated 
 by these ruffians, encourag^l 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 knoAving 
 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 Avere those concerned m the horrid massacre of 
 the woman, and the inhuman deception on their comrades. 
 
 Peter Simtf)nds, a protestant of about eighty years of age, was tied 
 neck and heels, and then thrown doAvn 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 betv/een her 
 legs, and she v/as then thrown down 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 nave 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 
 
f64 ^ 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 throvigh 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 ofl^" 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 towards 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 
 ©Iher protestants, were hungup by hooks fixed in their flesh, and left 
 ga to expire. Giovanni Rostagnal, a venerable protestant, upwards of 
 •fearscore years of age, had his nose and ears cut ofi', and the flesh cut 
 ^m his body, till he bled to death. 
 
 Jacob Birone, a schoolmaster of Rorata, was strip-ed 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 middle, and was 
 led through the streets with a soldier on each side of him. At every 
 turning, the soldier on his I'ight-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 Garnier, a protestant, beloved for his piety, had his eyes put 
 oiit, 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 Cainiero, were flayed alive. 
 
 Cipriiina 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 ofispring. The tormen- 
 tors, at length, tir^d 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 nred 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 the soul of a true believer: with respect to 
 the dreadful s{.ectacles which you have here shown me, you may rest 
 
i66 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, who, 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 with his toes : afterwards they alternately 
 cut off, daily, a hand and a foot ; but finding that he bore his sufferings 
 v\^ith the most imconquerable fortitude, and maintained his faith Avith 
 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 soldiei's, and refusing to renounce his reli- 
 gion, they hung several bags of gunpowder about his body, and then 
 setting fii'e to them, blew him up. 
 
 Anthony, the son of Samuel Catieris, a poor dumb lad, and extremely 
 inoffensive, 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 
 iniable to assist each other in that melancholy plight. 
 
 Daniel Benech, being apprehended, had his nose slit, and his ears 
 cut off; 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 sufler 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 
 with the most singular patience, only saying to the priest, " What hor- 
 rid and lasting torments you will suffer 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 
 
rEIlbECUTlONS IN PIEDMONT. I6.7 
 
 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 
 bodies 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 
 suhk and was drowned. 
 
 David Armand was forc-ed 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 fire tc, 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, which 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 havin^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 suftered the most dread- 
 ful hardships ; for, in the midst of the winter, he was forced to lie on 
 th» bars 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 unmercifully, 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. Thej^ again beat him to make him pro- 
 ceed ; 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, where 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, by the ties 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 enenues, the protes- 
 tants fell on their knees, lifted their hearts to heaven, and patiently 
 
IQQ BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 awaited their fate ; which the j^apists soon decided, by cutting them 
 to pieces. 
 
 Heroic Defence of the Protestants of Roras. 
 
 The blood of the faithful being almost exhausted in all the towns 
 and villages of Piedmont, tliere remained but one place that had been 
 oxemi)ted from the general slaughter. This was the little common- 
 alty of Roras, which stood upon an eminence. Of this, one of the 
 duke of Savoy's officers determined, if possible, to make himself 
 master ; with that view, he detached three hundred men to surprise it. 
 The inhabitants, however, had intelligence of the approach of these 
 troops, and Captain Joshua Gianavel, a brave protestant officer, put 
 . himself at the head of a small body of the citizens, and wailed in 
 ambuscade, to attack the enemy in a narrow passage, the only place 
 by which the town could be approached. 
 
 As soon as the troops appeared, and had entered the passage, the 
 protestants commenced a well directed fire against them, and kept 
 themselves concealed behind bushes. A great number of the soldiers 
 were killed, and the rest, receiving a continual fire, and not seeing 
 any to whom they might return it, made a precipitate retreat. 
 
 The members of this little community immediately sent a memorial 
 to the marquis of Pianessa, a general oihcer of the duke, stating, 
 " That they were sorry to be under the necessity of taking up arms; 
 but that the secret approach of a body of troops, without any previous 
 notice sent of the purpose of their coming, had greatly alarmed them; 
 that as it was theiP custom never to suffer any of the military to 
 enter their little community, they had repelled force by force, and 
 should do so again ; but, in all other respects, they professed them- 
 selves dutiful, obedient, and loyal subjects, to their sovereign the 
 duke of Savoy." 
 
 The marquis, in order to delude and surprise them, answered, 
 ' That he Avas perfectly satisfied with their behaviour, for they had 
 done right, and even rendered a service to their country, as the men 
 who had attempted to pass the defile v/ere not his troops, but a band 
 of desperate robbers, Avho had, for some time, infested those parts, 
 and been a terror to the neighbouring country." To give A greater 
 colour to his treachery, he published a proclamation to the same pur- 
 pose, expressive of thanks to the citizens of Roras. 
 
 The very day after, however, he sent 500 men to take possession 
 of the tovvn, while the people, as he thought, were lulled into secu- 
 rity by his artifice. 
 
 Captain Gianavel, however, was not thus to be deceivc'i' ; he, there- 
 fore, laid a second ambuscade for these troops, and compelled them 
 to retire with great loss. 
 
 ■ Foiled in these two attempts, the sanguinary marquis determined 
 on a third, still more formidable ; but, with his usual duplicity, he 
 published another proclamation, disowning any knowledge of the 
 second attempt. 
 
 He soon after sent 700 chosen men upon the expedition, who, in 
 spite of the fire from the protestants, forced the deiile, entered Roras, 
 and began to murder every person they met with, Avithout distinction 
 of sex or age. Captain Gianavel, at the head of his friends, though he 
 had lost the defile, detennined to dispute the passage through a for 
 
Assassination of the Prince of Orange hy Baltazar Gerard. 
 Pas^e 143. 
 
 Cnnstantine XV. dpfendinsc Co7istantinople. Page 147. 
 
 Barba.-itie^evercLsel by t'm Popish Persecutors on the Walden- 
 ,:■. ses of Calabria. Pasce. 151. 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN PIEDMONT. Jgg 
 
 tified pass, that led to the richest and best part of the town. Here he 
 succeeded, by keeping up a continual fire, which did great execution, 
 his men being all good marksmen. The Roman Catholic commander 
 was astonished and dismayed at this opposition, as he imagined that 
 he had surmounted all difficulties. lie, however, strove to force the 
 pass, but being unable to bring up only twelve men in front at a time, 
 and the prolestants being secured by a breast-work, he saw all his 
 hopes frHstrated. 
 
 Enraged at the loss of so many of his troops, and fearful of dis- 
 grace if he persisted in attempting what appeared so impracticable, he 
 thought it wiser to retreat. Unwilling, however, to Avithdraw his 
 men by the defHe at which he had entered, on account of the danger, 
 he designed to retreat towards Villaro, by another pass, called Piampra, 
 which, though hard of access, was easy of descent. Here, however, 
 he again felt the determined bravery of Captain Gianavel, who having 
 posted his little band here, greatly annoyed the troops as they passed, 
 and even pursued their rear till they entered the open country. 
 
 The marquis of Pianessa, finding all his attempts baffled, and all his 
 artifices discovered, resolved to throw off the mask ; and therefore 
 proclaimed, that ample rewards should be given to any who would 
 bear arms against the obdurate heretics of Roras, and that any officer 
 who would exterminate 'them, should be honoured accordingly. 
 
 Captain Mario, a bigoted Roman Catholic, and a desperate ruffian, 
 stimulated by this, resolved to undertake the enterprise; He, there- 
 fore levied a regiment of 1000 men, and with these he resolved to 
 attempt gaining the summit of a rock which commanded the town. 
 But the prolestants, aware of his design, suffered "his troops to proceed 
 without molestation, till they had nearly reached the summit of the 
 rock, when they made a most furious attack uipon them ; one party 
 keeping up a well directed and constant fire, and others rolling down 
 large stones. Thus were they suddenly stopped in their career. 
 Many Avere killed by the musketry, and more by the stones, Avhich 
 beat them down the precipices. Several fell sacrifices to their own 
 fears, for by attempting a precipitate retreat, they fell down and were 
 dashed to pieces ; and Captain Mario himself, having fallen from a 
 craggy place into a river at the foot of the rock, was taken up sense- 
 less, and after lingering some time, expired. 
 
 After this, another body of troops from the camp at Villaro, made 
 an attempt upon Roras ; but were likewise defeated, and compelled 
 to retreat to their camp. 
 
 Captain Gianavel, for each of these signal victories, made a suitable 
 discourse to his men, kneeling down with them to return thanks to 
 the Almighty, for his providential protection; and concluding with the 
 11th Psalm. 
 
 The marquis of Pianessa, now enraged to the highest degree at 
 being thus foiled by a handful of peasants, determined on their ex- 
 pulsion or destruction. 
 
 To this end he ordered all the Roman Catholic militia of Piedmont 
 to be called out and disciplined. To these he joined eight thousand 
 regular troops, and dividing the whole into three distinct bodies, he 
 planned three formidable attacks to be made at once, unless the peo- 
 ple of Roras, to whom he sent an account of his great preparations, 
 would comply with the following conditions : 
 
 22 • ■ 
 
170 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 To ask pardon for taking up arms. To pay the expenses of all the 
 expeditions sent against them. To acknowledge the infallibility of 
 the pope. To go to mass. To pray to the saints. To deliver up 
 their ministers and schoolmasters. To go to confession. To pay 
 loai s for the delivery of souls from purgatory ; and to give up Captain 
 Gianavel and the elders of their church at discretion. 
 
 The brave inhabitants, indignant at these proposals, answered, 
 " That sooner than comply with them, they would suffer their es- 
 tates to be seized, their houses to be burnt, and themselves to be mur- 
 dered." 
 
 Enraged at this, the marquis sent them the following laconic 
 letter. 
 
 To the obstinate Heretics of Roras. 
 "You shall have your request, for the troops sent against you have 
 strict injunctions to plunder, burn and kill. 
 
 "PlANESSA." 
 
 The three armies were accordingly put in motion, and the first at- 
 tack ordered to be made by the rocks of Villaro ; the second by the 
 pass of Bagnol ; and the third by the defile of Lucerne. 
 
 As might be expected from the superiority of numbers, the troops 
 gained the rocks, pass, and defile, entered the town, and commenced 
 the most horrid depredations. Men they hanged, burnt, racked to 
 death, or cut to pieces ; women they ripped open, crucified, drowned, 
 or thrcAV from the precipices ; and children they tossed upon spears, 
 minced, cut their throats, or dashed out their brains. On the first day 
 of their gaining the town, one hundred and twenty-six sufl^ered in this 
 manner. 
 
 Agreeably to the orders of the marquis, they likewise plundered the 
 estates, and burnt the houses of the people. Several protestants, 
 however, made their escape, under the conduct of the brave Giana- 
 vel, whose wife and children were unfortunately made prisoners, and 
 sent to Turin under a strong gu^rd. 
 
 The marquis, thinking to conquer at least the mind of Gianavel, 
 wrote him a letter, and rel-eased a protestant prisoner, that he might 
 carry it to him. The contents were, that if the captain would embrace 
 the Roman Catholic religion, he should be indemnified for all his losses 
 since the commencement of the war, his wife and children should be 
 immediately released, and himself honourably promoted in the duke 
 of Savoy's army ; but if he refused to accede to the proposals made 
 to him, his wife and children should be put to death ; and so large a 
 reward should be given to take him, dead or alive, that even some ol 
 his own confidential friends should, from the greatness of the sum, 
 be tempted to betray him. 
 
 To this, Gianavel returned the following answer : 
 
 " My Lord Marquis, 
 
 "There is no torment so great, or death so cruel, that I would not 
 prefer to the abjuration of my religion : so that promises lose their ef- 
 fects, and menaces do Kit strengthen me in my faith. 
 
 "With respect to my wife and children, my lord, nothing can be 
 more afflicting to me than the thoughts of their confinement, or more 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN PIEDMONT. J71 
 
 dreadful to my imagination, than their suffering a violent death. I 
 keenly feel -all the tender sensations of a husband and parent; I 
 would suffer any torment to rescue them ; I would die to preserve 
 them. 
 
 " But having said thus much, my lord, I assure j'^ou that the puT- 
 chase of their lives must not be the price of my salvation. You have 
 them in your power it is true ; but my consolation is, that your power 
 is only a temporary authority over their bodies : you may destroy the 
 mortal part, but their immortal souls are out of your reach, and will 
 live hereafter, to bear testimony against you for your cruelties. I 
 therefore recommend them and myself to God, and pray for a refor- 
 mation in your heart. ' ^ 
 
 " Joshua Gianavel." 
 
 He then, with his followers, retired to the Alps, where, being after- 
 wards joined by several protestant officers, Avith a considerable num- 
 ber of fugitive protestants, they conjointly defended themselves, and 
 made several successful attacks upon the Roman Catholic towns and 
 forces ; carrying terror by the valour of their exploits, and the bold- 
 ness of their enterprises. 
 
 Nevertheless, the disproportion between their forces and those of 
 their enemies was so great, that no reasonable expectations could be 
 entertained of their ultimate success ; which induced many protestant 
 princes and states, in various parts of Europe, to interest themselves 
 in favour of these courageous sufferers for religious and civil liberty. 
 
 Among these intercessors, the protestant cantons of Switzerland 
 early distinguished themselves ; and as their mediation was rejected 
 by the duke of Savoy, they raised considerable sums of money, by 
 private subscriptions, for the relief of the fugitives, and the assistance 
 of the brave defenders of their native valleys. Nor did they limit 
 their kindness to pecuniary relief; they despatched a messenger to 
 the United Provinces, for the purpose of procuring subscriptions, and 
 the interference of the Dutch government in favour of the Pied- 
 montese, both of which they at Length obtained. They then made 
 another attempt to prevail on the duke of Savoy to grant his protest- 
 ant subjec-ts liberty of conscience, and to restore them to their ancient 
 privileges ; but this, after much evasion on the part of the duke, also 
 failed. 
 
 But that God, whom they worshipped in purity of spirit, now raised 
 them up a more powerful champion in the person of Oliver Cromwell, 
 Lord Protector of England. This extraordinary man, however cri- 
 minal in the means by which he obtained power, certainly deserves 
 the praise of having exercised it with dignity and firmness ; and if his 
 usurpation be censured, it must be acknowledged that he raised Eng- 
 land to a station among the neighbouring powers, to which it had ne- 
 ver before attained. From the throne which he had just seized, he 
 dictated to the most potent monarchs of Europe ; and never Was his 
 influence more justly exercised, than in behalf of the persecuted pro- 
 testants of Piedmont. He caused subscriptions to be set on foot 
 throughout England in their favour ;* he sent an envoy to the court of 
 
 * They amounted in England and Wales to forty thousand pounds ; a very large 
 sum in those days, when the nation was exhausted and impoverished by a long civil 
 
173 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Fripnce, and wrote to all the protestant powers of Europe, to interest 
 them in the same good cause. He despatched an ambassador to the 
 court of Turin, who was received with great respect by the duke, who 
 pretended to justify his treatment of the Piedmontese, under the pre- 
 tence of their being rebellious. 
 
 But Cromwell would not suffer himself to be trifled with ; his am- 
 bassador gave the duke to understand, that if negotiation failed, arms 
 would be had recourse to ; and as the kings of Denmark and Sweden, 
 the Dutch government, and many of the German states, encouraged 
 by the example of the Protector, now came forward in the same cause, 
 the duke found himself under the necessity of dismissing the English 
 ambassador, with a \iery respectful message to his master, assuring 
 him that " the persecutions had been much misrepresented and exag- 
 gerated; and that they had been occasioned by his rebellious subjects 
 themselves : nevertheless, to show his great respect for his highness, 
 he would pardon them, and restore them to vheir former privileges." 
 
 This was accordingly done ; and the protestants returned to their 
 homes, grateful for the kindness wich had been shown to them, and 
 praising the name of the Lord, who is as a tower of strength to those 
 who put their trust in him. 
 
 During the lifetime of Cromwell, they lived in peace and security ; 
 but no sooner had his death relieved the papists from the terror of his 
 vengeance, than they began anew to exercise that cruel and bigoted 
 spirit which is inherent in popery : and although the persecutions were 
 not avowedly countenanced by the court, they were connived at, and 
 ^unpunished ; insomuch that whatever injury had been inflicted on a 
 protestant, he could obtain no redress from the corrupted judges to 
 whom he applied for that protection which the laws nominally granted 
 to him. 
 
 At length, in the year 1686, all the treaties in favour of the protes- 
 tants were openly violated, by the publication of an edict, prohibiting 
 the exercise of any religion but the Roman Catholic, on pain of death. 
 
 The protestants petitioned for a repeal of this cruel edict : and their 
 petitions were backed by their ancient friends, the protestant cantons 
 of Switzerland. But the cries of his subjects, and the intercession of 
 their allies were equally unavailing ; the duke replied that " his en- 
 gagements with France obliged him to extirpate the heretics from 
 Piedmont." 
 
 Finding applications useless, the protestants flew to arms ; and be- 
 ing attacked by the duke's army, and some French troops, on the 22d 
 of Apijl, 1686, they, after an obstinate engagement of several hours, 
 obtained a complete victory, killing great numbers of the French and 
 Savoyards. 
 
 Exasperated by this defeat, the duke immediately collected a large 
 army, which he augmented with a reinforcement of French and Swiss 
 troops ; and was so successful in several engagements against the pro- 
 testants, that the latter, despairing of success, consented to lay down 
 their arms and quit the country, on his solemn promise of safety for 
 themselves, their families, and property. 
 
 No sooner were they disarmed, than the treacherous papists, acting 
 upon their maxim, that no faith is to be kept with heretics, massacred 
 a large body of them in cold blood, without distinction of age or sex; 
 and burnt and ravaged the country in every direction. 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN PIEDMONT. J 73 
 
 The horrors perpetrated by these faithless and bigoted monsters, 
 almost exceed belief. We will not weary and disgust our readers 
 with the recital; suffice it to say,- that every variety of rapine, lust, 
 and cruelty, were exhausted by these demons inhuman shape. Those 
 protestants who were fortunate enough to escape, found an asylum in 
 the Swiss cantons, and in Germany, where they were treated kindly, 
 and lands granted to them for their residence. 
 
 The natural consequence of these horrible proceedings was, that 
 the fruitful valleys of Piedmont were depopulated and desolate; and 
 the barbarous monster, who had caused this devastation, now feeling 
 its ill effects, tried, by all means in his power, to draw Roman Catho- 
 lic families from all parts of Europe, to re-people the valleys, and to 
 cultivate the fields which had been blasted by the malignant breath 
 of bigotry. 
 
 Some of the exiles, in the meanwhile, animated by that love oj 
 country \fh.\ch glows with peculiar warmth in their breasts, determined 
 to make an attempt to regain a part of their native valleys, or to pe- 
 rish in the attempt. Accordingly, nine hundred of them, who had re- 
 sided, during their exile, near the lake of Geneva, crossing it in the 
 night, entered Savoy without resistance, and, seizing two villages, ob- 
 tained provisions, for which they paid, and immediately passed the 
 river Arve, before the duke had notice of their arrival in the country. 
 When he became acquainted with this, he was astonished at the 
 boldness of the enterprise, and despatched troops to guard the defiles 
 and passes ; which, however, were all forced by the protestants, and 
 great numbers of the Savoyard troops defeated. 
 
 Alarmed by this intelligence, and still more by a report that a great 
 body of the exiles were advancing from Brandenburg to support those 
 already in, Savoy, and that many protestant states meant to assist them 
 in their attempts to regain a footing in their native country, the duke 
 published an edict, by which he restored them to all their former pri- 
 vileges. 
 
 This just and humane conduct was, however, so displeasing to that 
 bigoted and ferocious tyrant, Louis XIV. of France, that he sent an 
 order to the duke of Savoy to extirpate every protestant in his domi- 
 nions ; and to assist him in the execution of this horrible project, or to 
 punish him if he were unwilling to engage in it, M. Catinat was des- 
 patched at the head of an army of 16,000 m^n. This insolent dictation 
 irritated the duke ; he determined no longer to be the slave of the French 
 king, and solicited the aid of the ernperor of Germany, and the king 
 of Spain, who sent large bodies of troops to his assistance. Being 
 also joined, at his own request, by the protestant army, he hesitated no 
 longer to declare war against France ; and in the campaign which 
 followed, his protestant subjects were of infinite service by their va- 
 lour and resolution. The French troops were at length driven from 
 Piedmont, and ihe heroic protestants were reinstated in their former 
 possessions, their ancient privileges confirmed, and many new ones 
 granted to them. The exiles now returned from Germany and Swit- 
 zerland ; and were accompanied by many French refugees, whom 
 the cruel persecutions of Louis had driven from their native land, in 
 search of the toleration denied to them at home. But this infuriated 
 bigot, not yet glutted with revenge, insisted on their being expelled 
 from Piedmont ; and the Duke of Savoy, anxious for peace, was com- 
 
174 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 pelled to comply with this merciless demand, before the French king 
 would sign the J;reaty. The wanderers, thus driven from the south of 
 Europe, sought and found an asylum from the hospitality of the elec- 
 tor of Brandenburg, and consoled themselves for the loss of a genial 
 climate, and a delightful country, in the enjoyment of the more sub- 
 stantial blessings of liberty of conscience, and security of property. 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS OF MICHAEL DE MOLINOS, A NATIVE OF SPAIN. 
 
 Michael de Molinos, a Spaniard, of a rich and noble family, enter- 
 ed, at an early age, into priest's orders, but would accept of no pre- 
 ferment in the church. His talents were of a superior class, and he 
 dedicated them to the service of his fellow creatures. His life was 
 uniformly pious ; but he did not assume those austerities so com- 
 mon among the religious orders of the Romish clmrch. 
 
 Being of a contemplative turn, he pursued the track of the mysti- 
 cal divines, and having acquired great reputation in Spain, he became 
 desirous of propagating his mode of devotion, and, accordingly, left 
 his own country, and settled in Rome. Here he soon connected him- 
 self with some of the most distinguished among the literati, who, ap- 
 proving of his religious maxims, assisted him in propagating them. 
 His followers soon augmented to a considerable number, and, from 
 the peculiarity of their doctrine, were distinguished by the name oi 
 Quietists. 
 
 In 1675, he published a book, entitled, II Guida Spirituale, which 
 soon became known, and was read, Avith great avidity, both in Italy 
 and Spain. His fame was now blazed abroad, and friends floAved in 
 upon him. Many letters were written to him, and a correspondence 
 was settled between him and those who approved of his tenets, in dif- 
 ferent parts of Europe. Some secular priests, both at- Rome and 
 Naples, declared themselves openly in his favour, and consulted him 
 as a sort of oracle; but those who attached themselves to him with 
 the greatest sincerity, were some of the fathers of the Oratory, the 
 most eminent of v.^hom were, Coloredi, Ciceri, and Petrucci. Many 
 of the cardinals also courted his friendship. Among others, was the 
 Cardinal d'Estrees, a man of great learning, to whom Molinos open- 
 ed his mind without reserve. 
 
 His reputation now began to alarm the Jesuits and Dominicans, 
 they, therefore, exclaimed against him and his followers as heretics, 
 and published several treatises in defence of their charge, which 
 Molinos answered with becoming spirit. 
 
 These disputes occasioned such a disturbance in Rome, that the 
 affair was noticed by the inquisition. Molinos and his book, and 
 father Petrucci, who had Avritten some treatises and letters on the 
 same subject, were brought under a severe examination ; and the 
 Jesuits were considered as the accusers. In the course of the exami- 
 nation, both Molinos and Petrucci acquitted themselves so ably, that 
 their books were again approved, and the answers which the Jesuits 
 had wr'tten, Avere censured as scandalous and unbecoming. 
 
\ 
 
 PERSCUTION OF THE Q.UIETISTS. l^jg 
 
 Petrucci, on this occasion, was so highly applauded, that he was 
 soon after made bishop of Jesis. Their books were now esteemed 
 more than ever, and their method was more followed. 
 
 Thus the great reputation acquired by Molinos and Petrucci, occa- 
 sioned a daily increase of the Quietists. All who were thought sin- 
 cerely devout, or at least affected to be so, were reckoned among the 
 number. These persons, in proportion as their zeal increased in 
 their mental devotions, appeared less careful as to the exterior parts 
 of the church ceremonies. Th«y were not so assiduous at masses, 
 nor so earnest to procure them to be said for their friends ; nor were 
 they so frequently either in processions or at confession. 
 
 Notwithstanding the approbation expressed for Molinos' book by 
 the inquisition had checked the open hostility of his enemies, they 
 were still inveterate against him in their hearts, and determined, if 
 possible, to ruin him. - They therefore secretly insinuated that he 
 had ill designs, and was an enemy to Christianity : that imder pre- 
 tence of raising men to a sublime strain of devotion, he intended to 
 erase from their minds a sense of the mysteries of religion. And be- 
 cause he was a Spaniard, they gave out that he was a descendant from 
 a Je\vish or Mahometan race, and that he might carry in his blood, 
 or in his first education, some seeds of those doctrines he had since 
 cultivated with no less art than zeal. 
 
 Molinos finding himself attacked with such unrelenting malice, took 
 every necessary precaution to prevent its effect upon the public mind. 
 He wrote a treatise entitled " Frequent and Daily Communion," 
 which was likewise approved of by some of the most learned of the 
 Romish clergy. This, with his Spiritual Guide, was printed in the 
 year 1675 ; and in the preface to it, he declared, that he had not writ- 
 ten it with any design to engage in matters of controversy, but by the 
 earnest solicitations of many pious people. 
 
 The Jesuits having again failed in their attempts to crush his influ- 
 ence at Rome, applied to the court of France, when they so far suc- 
 ceeded, that an order was sent to Cardinal d'Estrees, commanding him 
 to prosecute Molinos with all possible rigour. The cardinal, notwith- 
 standing his attachment to MoUnos, resolved to sacrifice friendship 
 to interest. Finding, however, there was not sufficient matter for an 
 accusation against him, he determined to supply that defect himself. 
 He therefore went to the inquisitors, and informed them of several 
 particulars relative to Molinos and Petrucci, both of whom, with seve- 
 ral of their friends, were put into the inquisition. 
 
 On being brought before the inquisitors, (which was in the begin- 
 ning of the year 1684,) Petrucci answered the questions put to him 
 with so much judgment and temper, that he was soon dismissed; but 
 with regard to Molinos, though the inquisition had not any just accu- 
 sation against him, yet they strained every nerve to find him guilty of 
 heresy. They first objected to his holding a correspondence in dif- 
 ferent parts of Europe ; but of this he was acquitted, as the matter of 
 that correspondence could not be considered as criminal. They then 
 directed their attention to some suspicious papers found in his cham- 
 ber; but he so clearly explained their meaning, that nothing could be 
 wrested from them to his prejudice. At length, cardinal d'Estrees, 
 after producing the order sent him by the king of France, for prose- 
 cuting Molinos, said, he coul'i «?onvince the court of his heresy. He 
 
176 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 then proceeded to pervert the meaning of some passages in Molinos s 
 books and papers, and related many false and aggravating circum- 
 stances relative to the prisoner. He acknovi^ledged he had lived with 
 him under the appearance of friendship, but that it was only to dis- 
 cover his principles and intentions ; that he found them to be of a bad 
 nature, and that dangerous consequences were likely to ensue ; but 
 in order to make a full discovery, he had assented to several things, 
 which, in his heart, he detested ; and that, by these means, he be- 
 came master of all his secrets. 
 
 In consequence of this evidence, Molinos was closely confined in 
 the inquisition, where he continued for some time, during which pe- 
 riod all was quiet, and his followers continued. their mode of worship 
 without interruption. But, at the instigation of the Jesuits, a storm 
 suddenly broke out upon them with the most inveterate fury. 
 
 Persecution of the Quietists. 
 
 Count Vespiniani and his lady, Don Paulo Rocchi, and nearly se- 
 venty other persons, among whom were many highly esteemed both 
 for their learning and piety, were put into the inquisition. The accu- 
 sation laid against the clergy was, their neglecting to say the brevia- 
 ry ; the rest were accused of going to communion without first attend- 
 ing confession, and neglecting all the exterior parts of religion. 
 
 The Countess Vespiniani, on her examination before the inquisitors, 
 said, that she had never revealed her method of devotion to any mor- 
 tal but her confessor, without whose treachery it was impossible they 
 should know it. That, therefore, it was time to give over going to 
 confession, if priests thus abused it, betraying the most secret thoughts 
 intrusted to them ; and that, for the future, she would only make her 
 confession to God. 
 
 From that spirited speech, and the great noise made in consequence 
 of the countess's situation, the inquisitors thought it most prudent to 
 dismiss both her and her husband, lest the people might be incensed, 
 and what she said migjit lessen the credit of confession. They were, 
 therefore, both discharged ; but bound to appear whenever they 
 should be called upon. 
 
 Such was the inveteracy of the Jesuits against the Quietists, that 
 within the space of a month upwards of 200 persons, besides those al- 
 ready mentioned, were put into the inquisition ; and that method of 
 devotion, which had passed into Italy as the most elevated to which 
 mortals could aspire, was deemed heretical, and the chief promoters 
 of it confined in dungeons. 
 
 A circular letter, urging the extirpation of the Quietists, was sent, 
 by the inquisitors, through Cardinal Cibo, the pope's chief minister, 
 to the Italian bishops, but without much efl'ect, as the greater number 
 of them were inclined to Molinos's method. It was intended that this, 
 as well as all other orders from the inquisitors, should be kept secret ; 
 but not withstanding all their care, copies of it were printed, and dis- 
 persed in most of the principal towns in Italy. This gave great un- 
 easiness to the inquisitors, who use every method they can to conceal 
 their proceedings from the knowledge of the world. They blamed the 
 cardinal, and accused him of being the cause of it ; but he retorted 
 on them, and his secretary laid the fault on both. 
 
PERSECUTIONS, IN FRANCE. I77 
 
 Sentence against Molinos. 
 
 In the mean time, Molinos suffered greatly from the officers of the 
 inquisition : and the only comfort he received was, being sometimes 
 visited by father Petrucci. Yet although he had lived in the highest 
 reputation in Rome for some years, he was now as much despised as 
 he had been admired. Most of his followers, who had been placed in 
 the mquisition, having abjured his mode, were dismissed ; but a harder 
 fate awaited their leader. When he had laid a considerable time 
 in prison, he was brought again before the inquisitors, to answer to a 
 number of articles exhibited against him from his writings. As soon 
 as he appeared in court, a chain was put around his body, and a wax- 
 . light in his hand, when two friars read aloud the articles of accusa- 
 tion. Molinos answered each with great steadiness and resolution ; 
 and notwithstanding his arguments totally defeated the force of all, 
 yet he was found guilty of heresy, and was condemned to imprison- 
 ment for life. 
 
 Having left the court, he was attended by a priest, who had borne 
 him the greatest respect. On his arrival at the prison, he entered the 
 cell with great tranquillity ; and on taking leave of the priest, thus 
 addressed him: "Adieu, father; we shall meet again at the day of 
 judgment and then it will appear on which side the truth is, whether 
 on my side or on yours." 
 
 While in confinement, he was several times tortured in the most 
 cruel manner, till, at length, the severity of the punishments overpow- 
 ered his strength, and death released him from his cruel persecutors. 
 
 The followers of Molinos Avere so terrified by the suflerings of their 
 leader, that the greater part of them soon abjured his mode ; and by 
 the assiduity of the Jesuits, Quietism was totally extirpated. 
 
 SECTION IX. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS OF THE PROTESTANTS IN FRANCE, DURING THE SIX- 
 TEENTH AND SEVENTEENTH CENTURIES. 
 
 In our sixth chapter we gave a brief account of the horrible massa- 
 cre in France, in 1572, in the reign of Charles IX. who has been well 
 entitled, " The bloody." This inhuman tyrant dying, was succeeded 
 in 1574 by Henry III. who, from political rather than religious mo- 
 tives, favoured the protestants, which so greatly displeased the catho- 
 lics, that he felt himself obliged to recal the privileges which he had 
 granted them. Hence arose civil dissentions, which nearly ruined 
 the kingdom. In 1589 Henry was assassinated by one James Cle- 
 ment, a fanatical priest, and was succeeded by the king of Navarre, 
 under tl e title of Henry IV. 
 
 This prince, after struggling with his numerous enemies during se- 
 veral years, found it expedient to declare himself a Roman Catholic, 
 and tl-us to obtain the suffrages of the majority of his subjects. This 
 apos'acy was a severe affliction to the faithful ; but although he aban- 
 donid his religion, and sacrificed an heavenly for an earthly crown, 
 1ie did not, like many apostates, persecute the members of the church 
 
 23 
 
178 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 which he had quitted. He was, in all other respects, truly worthj oi 
 the appellation of Great; a title so frequently and so unjustly bestowed 
 on men who sacrifice the lives and happiness of their fellow-creatures 
 at the shrine of their own vanity and cruelty, and deserve rather to be 
 execrated than admired, and regarded as demons than as demi-gods. 
 
 Upon the restoration of tranquillity in his dominions, Henry applied 
 himself to the cultivation of the arts of peace, and by encouraging 
 agriculture, manufactures, and trade, laboured successfully to recover 
 France from the desolation and misery which thirty years of civil Avar 
 and religious persecution had brought upon her. Nor was he unmind- 
 fvil of his ancient friends the protestant.?. By the edict of Nantes, is- 
 sued in 1598, he granted them a full toleration and protection in the 
 exercise of their religious opinions. In aonsequence of this, the true 
 church of Christ abode in peace during many years, and flourished 
 exceedingly. 
 
 Henry was at length assassinated, in 1610, by Ravaillac, a Jesuit, 
 filled with that frantic bigotry which the Roman Catholic religion has 
 so peculiar a tendency to inspire and to cherish. 
 
 Louis Xni. being a minor at the death of his father, the kingdom 
 was nominally governed by the queen-mother, but really by her minion, 
 Cardinal Richelieu, a man of great abilities, which Avere unhappily 
 perverted to the worst purposes. He was cruel, bigoted, tyrannical, 
 rapacious, and sensual ; he trampled on the civil and religious liberties 
 of France ; and hesitated not to accomplish his intentions by the most 
 barbarous and infamous methods. 
 
 The protestants at length, unable longer to endure the injuries daily 
 heaped upon them, resolved to take arms in defence of their religion 
 and their liberty. But the vigour of the cardinal defeated all their en 
 terprises, and Rochelle, the last fortress which remained in their pos 
 session, Avas, in 1628, after a long siege, in Avhich the defenders were 
 reduced to the most horrible extremities of famine and sufiering, sur- 
 rendered to his victorious arms. He immediately caused the Avails 
 and fortifications to be destroyed ; and those of the garrison Avho sur- 
 vived, Avere either put to death by the infuriated soldiery, or condemn- 
 ed to the galleys for life. 
 
 After this unhappy event, although the poAver of the protestants was 
 too much broken to permit them to assert their rights in the field, and 
 they therefore appeared to their enemies as if crushed and extinguish- 
 ed, there yet remained many thousands Avho " refused to boAv the knee 
 to Baal ;" their God upheld them by his gracious promises ; they kncAV 
 that He Avithout whose orders " not eA-'en a sparroAv shall perish," Avould 
 not allow his faithful serA^ants to fall unregarded ; and they consoled 
 themselves Avith the reflection, that hoAvever they might be despised, 
 contemned, and persecuted on earth, they would in the end arrive at 
 those heaA'enly mansions prepared for them by their Father, Avhere 
 " all tears shall be wiped from all faces ;" and Avhere an eternity of 
 glorious and celestial happiness shall infinitely outAveigh the tempora- 
 ry and trival sufferings of mortality. 
 
 During the fifty years Avhich succeeded the reduction of Rochelle, 
 the protestants suffered every indignity, injustice, and cruelty, Avhich 
 their barbarous persecutors could devise. They Avere at the mercy 
 of every petty despot, avIio, " drest in a little brief authority," Avished 
 to gratify his malice, or signalize the season of his poAver by punish- 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN FRANCE. J79 
 
 ing the heretics, and evincing his attachment to the infallible church. 
 The consequences of this may easily be imagined ; every petty vexa- 
 tion which can render private hfe miserable, every species of plun- 
 der and extortion, and every wanton exertion of arbitrary power, were 
 employed to harass and molest the protestants of all ranks, sexes, 
 and ages. 
 
 At length, in 1684, the impious and blasphemous tyrant, Louis 
 XIV., who, in imitation of the worst Roman emperors, Mdshed to re- 
 ceive divine honours, and was flattered by his abject courtiers into 
 the belief that he was more than human, determined to establish his 
 claim to the title of Ic grand, which their fulsome adulation had be- 
 stowed on him, by the extirpation of the heretics from his dominions. 
 Pretending, however, to wish for their conversion to the trve faith, 
 he gave them tlie alternative of voluntarily becoming papists, or be- 
 ing compelled to it. 
 
 On their refusal to apostatize, they were dragooned; that is, the 
 dragoons, the most ruffianly and barbarous of his Christian majesty's 
 troops, were quartered upon them, with orders to live at discretion. 
 Their ideas oi discretion may easily be conceived, and accordingly the 
 unhappy protestants were exposed to every species of suffering, which 
 lust, avarice, cruelty, bigotry, and brutality, can engender in the 
 breasts of an ignorant, depraved, and infuriated soldiery, absolved 
 from all restraint, and left to the diabolical promptings of their worst 
 passions, whose flames were fanned by the assurances ofthe bishops, 
 priests, and friars, that they were fulfilling a sacred duty, by punish- 
 ing the enemies of God and religion ! 
 
 An order was issued by the king, for the demolition of the protes- 
 tant churches, and the banishment of the protestant ministers. Many 
 other reformers were also ordered to leave the kingdom in a few days : 
 and we are told by Monsieur Claude, the celebrated author of " JLes 
 Plaintcs dcsProtestans,"' who was himself banished at this time, that 
 the most frivolous pretexts Avere employed to detain those who were 
 about to quit France, so that by remaining in that country beyond 
 the time allowed by the edict, they might be sent to the galleys as a 
 punishment for infringing an order which they Avere thus prevented 
 from complying with. 
 
 On the whole, more than five hundred thousand persons escaped or 
 were banished. And these industrious citizens, whom the blind bigot- 
 ry of a besotted tyrant had driven from their native land, found shelter 
 and protection in England, Germany, and other countries, which they 
 amply repaid by the introduction of many useful arts and processes; 
 in particular, it is to them that the people of Great Britain are indebted 
 for the commencem^ent of the silk manufacture in that country. 
 
 In the meanwhile, those who either were purposely detained, or 
 were unable to escape, were condemned to the galleys ; and after be- 
 ing imprisoned in the most horrible dungeons, and fed only on bread 
 and water, and that very scantily, were marched off, in large bodies, 
 handcuffed, and chained together, from one extrem^ity of the kingdom 
 k) another. Their sufferings during this dreadful journey were inde- 
 scribable. They were exposed to every vicissitude of weather, almost 
 without covering; and frequently, in the midst of winter, were obliged 
 to pass the night on the bare eprth, fainting from hunger and thirst, 
 agonized by disease, and writhing from the lash of their merciless con- 
 
180 • . BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 ductors. The consequence was, that scarcely half the original num- 
 ber reached the place of their destination ; those who did, were im- 
 mediately exposed to new sufferings and additional calamities. 
 
 They were put on board the galleys, where they were subjected to 
 the absolute control of the most inhuman and barbarous wretches who 
 ever disgraced the human form. The labour of rowing, as performed 
 in the galleys, is described as being the most excessive that can be 
 imagined ; and the sufferings of the poor slaves were increased many 
 fold by the scourgings inflicted on them by their savage taskmasters. 
 The recital of their miseries is too horrible to be dwelt upon : we shall 
 therefore pass to that period when the Lord, of his infinite mercy, gave 
 ear to the cries of his afflicted servants, and graciously raised them up 
 a deliverer in Anne, queeW of England, who, filled with compassion 
 for the unhappy fate of so many of her fellow protestants, ordered her 
 ambassador at the court of France, to make a spirited remonstrance 
 in their favour, which Louis, whose affairs were then in a very critical 
 situation, was under the necessity of complying with ; and he accord- 
 ingly dispatched orders to all the seaports for the immediate release 
 of every galley slave condemned for his religion. 
 
 When this order was received at Marseilles, where the majority of 
 the protestants were detained, the priests, and most particularly the 
 Jesuits, were much chagrined at the prospect of thus losing their 
 victims, and determined to use all means in their power to prevent the 
 order from being carried into effect. They prevailed on the intend- 
 ant, a violent and cruel bigot, to delay its execution for eight days, 
 till they could receive an answer to an address which they imme 
 diately dispatched to the king, exhorting him to abandon his inten- 
 tion of releasing the heretics, and representing the dreadful judgments 
 which, they asserted, might be expected to fall on himself and his 
 kingdom, as the punishment of so great a dereliction from his-duty as 
 the eldest son of the church. At least, they desired, if his majesty 
 were determined to release the protestants, that he would not allow 
 them to remain in, or even pass through, France ; but woidd compel 
 them to leave the ports by sea, and never again to enter his domi- 
 nions, on pain of revisiting the galleys. 
 
 Although Louis could not comply with the first part of the petition 
 of these trvdy papistical bigots, the latter part was too congenial to his 
 own inclinations, to be rejected. The protestants were ordered to 
 sail from the ports at which they had been confined ; and the difficulty 
 of obtaining vessels for their conveyance, which the malignant priests 
 used all their arts to augment, occasioned a long delay, during which 
 the poor prisoners were suflering all the agonies of uncertainty — that 
 " hope deferred, which maketh the heart sick," — and which led them 
 to fear that something might still intervene to prevent their so much 
 desired emancipation. But their heavenly Father, ever mindful of 
 those who suffer for his sake, at length removed every obstacle which 
 bigotry and malice could interpose, and. delivered them from the hand 
 of the appressor. They went forth rejoicing, praising and blessing 
 His holy name, who had wrought for them this great deliverance. 
 
 A deputation of those who had been released by the interposition of 
 Queen Anne, waited upon her majesty in London, to return their most 
 grateful thanks, on behalf of themselves and llieir brethren, for her 
 Christian interference in their fa^um-. She received them very gra- 
 
MARTYRDOM OF CALAS. |g|, 
 
 ciously, ancf assured them that she derived more pleasure from the con- 
 sciousness of having lessened the miseries of her fellow protestants, 
 than from the most brilhant events of her reign. 
 
 These exiles also established themselves in England, which by their 
 industry and ingenuity acquired new riches every day, while France, 
 by expelling them, received a blow, from which her commercial and 
 trading interests never recovered. Thus, even on earth, did the Al- 
 mighty punish the bigoted and cruel, and reward the pious and benefi- 
 cent. But how fearful shall be the judgment of the persecutors in that 
 great day when every action shall be weighed in the balance of Eter- 
 nal Justice ! How awful the denunciation — " Depart from me, ye 
 cursed ! I know you not !" Will the plea of religious zeal be then al- 
 lowed ? Will not the true motives of their barbarity be exposed to Him 
 " from whom no secret is hid ?" Undoubtedly they will ; and lament- 
 ably ignorant are they of the genuine spirit of Christianity, who ima- 
 gine that cruelty and persecution form any part of it. Let them look 
 to the conduct of its Divine Fomider ; to his meekness, his charity, his 
 universal benevolence ; let them consider these, and blush to call 
 themselves his followers ; and tremble at the doom which his justice 
 will award to those who have perverted his maxims of mercy and of 
 peace into denunciations of hostility and extirpation. 
 
 SECTION X. 
 
 MARTYRDOM OF JOHN CALAS, OF TOULOUSE. 
 
 By this interesting story, the truth of which is certified in historical 
 records, we have ample proof, if any were requisite, that the spirit of 
 persecution will always prevail where popery has the ascendancy. 
 This shocking act took place in a polished age, and proves, that nei- 
 ther experience nor improvement, can root out the inveterate preju- 
 dices of the Roman Catholics ; or render them less cruel or inexorable 
 to the protestants. 
 
 John Galas was a merchant of the city of Toulouse, where he had 
 settled, and lived in good repute ; and had married an English woman 
 of French extraction. 
 
 Calas and his wife were both protestants, and had five sons, whom 
 they educated in the Same religion ; but Lewis, one of the sons, be- 
 came a Roman Catholic, having been converted by a maid-servant, 
 who had liv^d in the family above thirty years. The father, however, 
 did not express any resentment or ill-will upon the occasion, but kept 
 the maid in the family, and settled an annuity upon the son. In Octo- 
 ber, 1761, the family consisted of John Calas and his wife, one woman 
 servant, Mark Anthony Calas, the eldest son, and Peter Calas, the 
 second son. Mark Anthony was bred to the law, but could not be 
 admitted to practice, on account of his being a protestant : hence he 
 grew melancholy^ read all the books which he could procure relative 
 to suicide, and seemed determined to destroy himself. To this may 
 be added, that he led a very dissipated life, and was greatly addicted 
 to gaming On this account his father frequently reprehended him, 
 
182 BOOK OF MARTYRS, 
 
 and sometimes in terms of severity, Avhich considerably added to 'the 
 gloom that oppressed him. 
 
 M. Gober La Vaisse, a young gentleman about nineteen years of 
 age, the son of a celebrated advocate of Toulouse, having been some 
 time at Bourdeaux, came back to Toulouse to see his father, on the 
 13th of October, 1761 ; but finding that he was gone to his country- 
 house, at some distance from the city, he went to several places, en- 
 deavouring to hire a horse to carry him thither. No horse, however, 
 was to be obtained ; and about five o'clock in the evening, he was met 
 by John Galas the father, and the eldest son Mark Anthony, who was 
 his friend. Galas, the father, invited him to supper, as he could not 
 set out for his father's that night, and La Vaisse consented. All three, 
 therefore, proceeded to Calas's house together, and when they came 
 thither, finding that Mrs, Galas was still in her own room, which she 
 had not quitted that day, La Vaisse went up to see her. After the first 
 compliments, he told her he was to sup with her, by her husband's in- 
 vitation, at which she expressed her satisfaction, and a few minutes 
 after left him, to give some orders to her maid. When that was done, 
 she went to look for her son Anthony, whom she found sitting alone 
 in the shop, very pensive : she gave him some money, and desired him 
 to go and buy some Roquefort cheese, as he was a better judge of the 
 quality of cheese than any other person in the family. She then re- 
 turned to her guest La Vaisse, who very soon after M^ent again to the 
 livery-stable, to see if any horse was come in, that he might secure it 
 for the next morning. 
 
 In a short time Anthony returned, having bought the cheese, and 
 La Vaisse also coming back about the same time, the family and their 
 guest sat down to supper, the whole company consisting of ^Calas and 
 his wife, Anthony and Peter Galas, the sons, and La Vaisse, no other 
 person being in the house, except the maid-servant, who has been 
 mentioned already. This was about seven o'clock : the supper Avas 
 not lonsf ; but before it was over, Anthony left the table, and went 
 into the kitchen, (which was on the same floor) as he was accustomed 
 to do. The maid asked him if he Avas cold ? He answered, " Quite 
 the contrary, I burn :" and then left her. In the mean time his friend 
 and family left the room they had supped in, and went into a bed- 
 chamber ; the father and La Vaisse sat down together on a sofa ; the 
 younger son Peter in an elbow chair; and the mother in another 
 chair; and without making any inquiry after Anthony, continued in 
 conversation together, till between nine and ten o'clock, when La 
 Vaisse took his leave, and Peter, who had fallen asleep, was awakened 
 to attend him Avith a light. 
 
 There Avas on the ground-floor of Galas's house, a shop and a ware- 
 house ; the latter of which was divided from the shop by a pair of 
 folding-doors. When Peter Galas and La Vaisse came down stairs 
 into the shop, they Averc extremely shocked to see Anthony hanging in 
 his shirt, from a bar which he had laid across the top of the two fold- 
 ing-doors, having half opened them for that purpose. On discoAcring 
 this horrid spectacle, they shrieked out, which brought down Galas 
 the father, the mother being seized Avith such a terror as kept her 
 trembling in the passage above. The unhappy old man rushed for- 
 ward, and taking the body in his arms, the bar to Avhich the rope Avas 
 fastened, slipped off from the folding door of the ware house, and fell 
 
MARTYlJ-DOiM OF GALAS. J83 
 
 Jown. Having placed the body on the ground, he loosed and took 
 ofi" the cord in an agony of grief and anguish not to be expressed, 
 weeping, trembling, and deploring his loss. The two young men, 
 who had not presence of mind to attempt taking down the body, were 
 standing by, stupid with amazement and horror. In the mean time, 
 the mother, hearing the confused cries and complaints of her husband, 
 and finding no one come to her, found means to get down stairs. At 
 the bottom she saw La Vaisse, and hastily demanded what was the 
 matter. This question roused Galas in a moment, and instead of an- 
 swering her, he urged her to go again up stairs, to Avhich, with much 
 reluctance, she consented ; but the conflict of her mind being such as 
 could not be long borne, she sent down the maid to know what was 
 the matter. When the maid discovered what had happened, she con- 
 tinued below, either because she feared to carry an account of it to 
 her mistress, or because she busied herself in doing some good office 
 to her master, who was still embracing the body of his son, and bathing 
 it in his tears. The mother, therefore, being thus left alone, went 
 down, and mixed in the scene that has been already described, with 
 such emotions as it must naturally produce. In the mean time, Peter 
 had been sent for La Moire, a surgeon in the neighbourhood. La 
 Moire was not at home, but his apprentice, named Grosse, came in- 
 stantly. Upon examination, he found the body quite dead ; and upon 
 taking off the neckcloth, which was of black tafl'eta, he saw the mark 
 of the cord, and immediately pronounced that the deceased had been 
 strangled. This particular had not been told, for the poor old man, 
 when Peter was going for La Moire, cried out, " Save at least the 
 honour of my family ; do not go and spread a report that your brother 
 has made away with himself." 
 
 A crowd of people, by this time, were gathered about the house, 
 and one Casing, with another friend or two of the family, had come 
 in. Some of those who were in the street had heard the cries and 
 exclamations within, but knew not the occasion ; and having, by some 
 means, heard, that Anthony Galas v/as suddenly dead, and that the sur- 
 geon, who had examined the body, declared he had been strangled, 
 they took it into their heads he had been mui'dered ; and as the family 
 were protestants, they presently supposed that the young man was 
 about to clsange his religion, ayd had been put to death for that rea- 
 son. The cries they had heard they fancied were those of the de- 
 ceased, while he was resisting the violence done to him. The tumult 
 in the street increased every moment ; some said that Anthony Galas 
 was to have abjured the next day ; others, that protestants are bound, 
 by their religion, to strangle, or cut the throats of their children, when 
 they are inclined to become catholics. Others, who had found out 
 that La Vaisse was in the house when the accident happened, very 
 confidently affirmed, that the protestants, at their last assembly, ap- 
 pointed a person to be their common executioner upon these occa- 
 sions, and that La Vaisse was the man, who, in consequence of the 
 office to which he had been appointed, had come to Galas's house to 
 hang his son. 
 
 Now, the poor father, v/ho was overwhelmed with grief for the loss 
 of his child, was advised by his friends to send for the officers of jus- 
 tice, to prevent his being torn to pieces by the ignorant and bigoted 
 mob. A messenger was accordingly despatched to the capitoul, or 
 
184 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 first magistrate of the place ; and another to an inferior officer, called 
 an assessor. The capitoul had already set out, having been alarmed 
 by- the rumour of a murder. He entered Calas's house with forty 
 soldiers, took the father, Peter the son, the mother, La Vaisse, and the 
 maid, all into custody, and set a guard over them. He sent for M. 
 de la Tour, a physician, and M. la Marque and PeiTonet, surgeons, 
 who examined the body for marks of violence, but found none except 
 the mark of the ligature on the neck ; they found also the hair of the 
 deceased done up in the usual manner, perfectly smooth, and without. 
 the least disorder ; his clothes were also regularly folded up, and laid 
 upon the counter, nor was his shirt either imbuttoned or torn. 
 
 The capitoul, notwithstanding these appearances, thought proper to 
 agree with the opinion of the mob, and took it into his head that old 
 Galas had sent for La Vaisse, telling him he had a .son to be hanged ; 
 that La Vaisse had come to perform the office of executioner ; and 
 that he had received assistance from the father and brother. 
 
 On account of these notions the capitoul ordered the body of the 
 deceased to be carried to the town-house, v/ith the clothes. The 
 father and son were thrown into a dark dungeon ; and the mother, La 
 Vaisse, the maid, and Casing, were imprisoned in one that admitted 
 the light. The next day, Avhat is called the verbal process was taken 
 at the town-house instead of the spot where the body was found, as 
 the law directs, and was dated at Calas's house, to conceal the irregu- 
 larity. This verbal process is somewhat like the coroner's inquest in 
 England ; witnesses are examined, and the magistrate makeg his re- 
 port similar to the verdict of a coroner's jury in England. The wit- 
 nesses examined by the capitoid were, the physician and svu'geon, 
 who proved Anthony Calas to have been strangled. The surgeon 
 having been ordered to examine the stomach of the deceased, de- 
 posed also, that the food which was found there had been taken four 
 hours before his death. Finding that no proof of the murder could 
 be procured, the. capitoul had recourse to a m-onitory, or general in- 
 formation, in which the crime was taken for granted, and all persons 
 were required to give such testimony against it as they were able, 
 particularizing the points to which they were to speak. This re- 
 cites, that La Vaisse was commissioned by the protestants to be their 
 executioner in ordinary, when any of their children were to be 
 hanged for changing their religion ; it recites also, that when the 
 protestants thus hang their children, they compel them to kneel, and 
 one of the interrogatories was, whether any person had seen An- 
 thony Calas kneel before his father when he strangled him; it recites 
 likewise, that Anthony died a Roman Catholic, and requires evidence 
 of his Catholicism. 
 
 These ridiculous opinions being adopted and published by the prin- 
 cipal magistrate of a considerable city, the church of Geneva thought 
 itself obliged to send an attestation of its abhorrence of opinions so 
 abominable and absurd, and of its astonishment that they should be 
 suspected of such opinions by persons whose rank and office re- 
 quired them to have more knowledge, and better judgment. 
 
 However, before this monitory was published, the mob had got a 
 notion, that Anthony Calas was the next day to have entered into the 
 fraternity of the W^hite Penitents. The capitoul immediately adopt- 
 ed this opinion also, without the least examination, and ordered An 
 
MARTYRDOM OF GALAS. J35 
 
 thony's boJy to be buried in the middle of St. Stepnen's church, 
 which was accordingly done; forty priests, and all the white peni- 
 tents, assisting in the funeral procession. 
 
 A short time after the interment of the deceased, the white peni- 
 tents performed a solemn service for him in their chapel ; the church 
 was hung with white, and a tomb was raised in the middle of it, on 
 the top of which was placed a human skeleton, holding in one hand 
 a paper, on which was written, " Abjuration of heresy," and in the 
 othef a palm, the emblem of martyrdom. 
 
 The Franciscans performed a service of the same kind for him the 
 next day ; and it is easy to imagine h.ow much the minds of the 
 people were inflamed by this strange folly of their magistrates and 
 priests. 
 
 Still the capitoul continued the prosecution with unrelenting seve- 
 rity ; and though the grief and distraction of the family, when he 
 first came to the house, were alone sufficient to have convinced any 
 reasonable being that they were not the authors of the event which 
 they deplored, yet having publicly attested that they were guilty, in 
 his monitory, without proof, and no proof coming in, he thought fit 
 to condemn the unhappy father, mother, brother, friend, and servant, 
 to the torture, and put them all into irons, on the 18th of November. 
 Casing was released, upon proof that he was not in Calas's house till 
 after Anthony was dead. 
 
 From these dreadful proceedings the suflferers appealed to the par- 
 liament, which immediately took cognizance of the affair, and annull- 
 ed the sentence of the capitoul as irregular ; but the prosecution still 
 continued. 
 
 As soon as the trial came on, the hangman, who had been taken to 
 Calas's house, and shown the folding doors, and the bar, deposed, 
 that it was impossible Anthony should hang himself, as was pre- 
 tended. Another witness swore, that he looked through the key-hole 
 of Calas's door into a room, where he saw men running hastily to and 
 ^ro. A third swore, that his wife had told him, a woman named 
 Mandrill had told her, that a certain woman unknown had declared, 
 she heard the cries of Anthony Calas at the further end of the city. 
 From this absurd evidence the majority of the parliament were of 
 opinion, that the prisoners were guilty, and, therefore, ordered them 
 to be tried by the criminal court of Toulouse. 
 
 There was among those who presided at the trial, one La Borde, 
 >vho had zealously espoused the popular prejudices; and though it 
 ,vas manifest to demonstration, that the prisoners were either all in- 
 nocent, or all guilty, he voted that the father should first suffer the 
 torture, ordinary and extraoidinary, to discover his accomplices, and 
 'ye then broken alive upon the wheel ; to receive the last stroke when 
 he had lain two hours, and then to be burnt to ashes. In this opi- 
 nion he had the concurrence of six others ; three were for the 
 torture alone ; two were of opinion, that they should endeavour to 
 ascertain on the spot whether Anthony could hang himself or not ; 
 and one voted to acquit the prisoner. After long debates the majo- 
 rity was for the torture and wheel, and probably condemned the fa ther 
 hj way of experiment, whether he Avas guilty or not, hoping he 
 would, in the agony, confess the crime, and accuse the other prisoners, 
 whose fate, therefore, they suspended. It is, however, certain, that 
 
 24 
 
186 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 if they had evidence against the father that would have justified the 
 sentence they pronounced against him, that very evidence w^ould 
 have justified the same sentence against the rest ; and that they 
 could not justly condemn him alone, they being all in the house 
 together when Anthony died. 
 
 However, poor Galas, who was 68 years of age, was condemned 
 to this dreadful punishment. He suffered the torture with great con- 
 stancy, and was led to execution in a frame of mind which excited 
 respect and admiration. 
 
 Father Bourges, and Father Coldagues, the two Dominicans, who 
 attended him in his last moments, wished their latter end might be 
 like his, and declared that they thought him not only wholly innocent 
 of the crime laid to his charge, bu:t an exemplary instance of true 
 Christian patience, charity, and fortitude. 
 
 He gave but one shriek when he received the first stroke ; after 
 which he uttered no complaint. Being at length placed on the wheel 
 to wait for the moment which was to end his life and his misery 
 together, he declared himself full of an humble hope of a glorious 
 immortality, and a compassionate regard for the judges who had con- 
 demned him. When he saw the executioner prepared to give him 
 the last stroke, he made a fresh declaration of his innocence to 
 Father Bourges ; but while the words were yet in his mouth, the capi- 
 toul, the author of the catastrophe, and who came upon the scaffold 
 merely to gratify his desire of being a Avitness of his punishment and 
 death, ran up to him, and bawled out, " Wretch, there are the fagots 
 Avhich are to reduce your body to ashes ; speak the truth." M. Galas 
 made no reply, but turned his head a little aside, and that moment 
 the executioner did his office. 
 
 Donat Galas, a boy of fifteen years of age, the youngest son of the 
 unfortunate victim, was apprentice to a merchant at Nismes, when 
 he heard of the dreadful punishment by which seven prejudiced 
 judges of Toulouse had put his worthy father to death. 
 
 So violent was the popular outcry against the family in Languedoc, 
 that every body expected to see the children of Galas broke upon the 
 wheel, and the mother burnt alive. So weak had been the defence 
 made by this innocent family, oppressed by misfortunes, and terrified 
 at the sight of lighted piles, racks, and wheels. Young Donat Galas, 
 dreading to share the fate of the rest of his family, was advised to fly 
 into Switzerland. He did so, and there found a gentleman, who, at 
 first, could only pity and relieve him, without daring to judge ot 
 the rigour exercised against his father, mother, and brothers. Shortly 
 after, one of the brothers, who was only banished, likewise threw 
 himself into the arms of the same person, who, for more than a month, 
 took all possible means to be assured of the innocence of this family. 
 But when he was once convinced, he thought himself obliged, in con- 
 science, to employ his friends, his purse, his -pen, and his credit, to 
 repair the fatal mistake of the seven judges of Toulouse, and to 
 have the proceedings revised by the king's council. This revision 
 lasted three years, and, at the end of that time, fifty masters of the 
 Court of Requests unanimously declared the whole family of Galas 
 innocent, and recommended them to the benevolent justice of his 
 majesty. The Duke de Choiseul, who ne^-^er let slip an opportunity 
 of signalizing the greatness of his character, not only assisted thia 
 
PAPAL USURPATIONS. 187 
 
 unfortunate family with money from his own purse, but obtained for 
 them a gratuity of 36,000 livres from the king. 
 
 The arret which justified the family of Calas, and changed their 
 fate, was signed on the 9th of March, 1765. The 9th of March, 
 1762, was the very day on which the innocent and virtuous father ol 
 the family had been executed. All Paris ran in crowds to see them 
 come out of the prison, and clapped their hands for joy, while the 
 tears streamed down their cheeks. 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 CONTAINING A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION, AND THE 
 REMARKABLE CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH PRECEDED IT, FROM THE 
 TIME OF WICKLIFFE TO THE REIGN OF QUEEN MARY. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 PARTICULARS RELATIVE TO THE GREAT ASCENDANCY OF THE POPES 
 THROUGHOUT CHRISTENDOM, IN THE MIDDLE AGES. 
 
 The year 606 marks the date of the supremacy of the Roman 
 Pontiffs. From this period till the tenth century, the power and influ- 
 ence of the Roman hierarchy continued gradually to increase and 
 extend ; but from this latter date, till the reformation which was at- 
 tempted by Wickliffe, about the year A. D. 1350, that power and influ- 
 ence extended with more rapid strides, till at length all the sovereigns 
 of Europe were compelled to do homage to the lordly sway of his 
 " Hohness." 
 
 To relate the tyrannical innovations upon the religion of Christ from 
 the tenth to the middle of the thirteenth century, would be incompati- 
 ble with our limits. 
 
 Suffice it to say, that scarcely a foreign war or civil broil convul- 
 sed Europe during that period, which did not originate in the artifices 
 of popes, monks, and friars. They frequently fell victims to their 
 own machinations ; for, from the year 1004, many popes died violent 
 deaths : several were poisoned ; Sylvester was cut to pieces by his 
 own people; and the reigns of his successors were but short. Bene- 
 dict, who succeeded John XXI. thought proper to resist the Emperor 
 Henry III. and place in his room Peter, king of Hungary ; but af- 
 terwards, being alarmed by the success of Henry, he sold his seat to 
 Gratianus, called Gregory VI. At this time there were three popes 
 in Rome, all striving against each other for the supreme power, viz. 
 Benedict IX. Sylvester HI. and Gregory VI. But thic Emperor 
 Henry coming to Rome, displaced these three monsters at once, and 
 appointed Clement the Second, enacting that henceforth no bishop of 
 Rome shouid be chosen but by the consent of the emperor. Though 
 this law was necessary for public tranquillity, yet it interfered too 
 
IQQ BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 much with the ambitious views of the cardinals, who accordingly ex- 
 erted themselves to get it repealed; and failing in this, on the depar- 
 ture of the emperor for Germany, they poisoned Clement, and at 
 once violated the law by choosing another pope, without the imperial 
 sanction. 
 
 This was Damasus II. who being also poisoned, within a few days 
 from his appointment, much contention took place. Whereupon the 
 Romans sent to the emperor, desiring him to give them a bishop ; up- 
 on which he selected Bruno, a German, called Leo IX. This pope 
 was also poisoned, in the first year of his popedom. 
 
 After his death, Theophylactus made an effort to be pope, but Hil- 
 debrand, to defeat him, went to the emperor, and persuaded him to as- 
 sign another bishop, a German, who ascended the papal chair under 
 the title of Victor JLI. 
 
 The second year of his papacy, this pope also followed his prede- 
 cessors, like them being poisoned. 
 
 On the death of Victor, the cardinals elected Stephen IX. for pope, 
 contrary to their oath, and the emperor's assignment. From this pe- 
 riod, indeed, their ascendancy was so great, that the most powerful 
 sovereigns of Europe were obliged to do them homage: and Nicholas, 
 who succeeded Stephen, established the council of the Lateran. 
 
 In this council first was promulgated the terrible sentence of excom- 
 munication against all such as "do creep into the seat of Peter, by 
 money or favour, -without the full consent of the cardinals ;" cursing 
 them and their children with the anger of Almighty God ; and giving 
 authority^and power to cardinals, with the clergy and laity, to depose 
 all such persons, and call a council general, wheresoever they will, 
 against them. 
 
 Pope Nicholas only reigned three years and a half, and then, like 
 his predecessors, was poisoned. 
 
 Suhmission of the Emperor Henry J.Y. to the Pope. 
 
 To such a height had papal insolence now attained, that, on the 
 Emperor Henry IV. refusing to submit to some decrees of Pope Gre- 
 gory VII. the latter excommunicated him, and absolved all his subjects^ 
 from their oath of allegiance to him ; on this he was deserted by his 
 nobility, and dreading the consequences, though a brave man, he 
 found it necessary to make his submission. He accordingly repaired 
 to the city of Canusium, where the pope then was, (A. D. 1077,) and 
 went barefooted with his wife and child to the gate ; where he re- 
 mained from morning to night, fasting, humbly desiring absolution, 
 and craving to be let in. But no ingress being given him, he continued 
 thus three days together ; at length, answer came that his holiness 
 had yet no leisure to talk with him. The emperor patiently waited 
 without the walls, although in the depth of winter. At length his 
 request was granted, through the entreaties of Matilda, the pope's 
 paramour. On the fourth day, being let in, for a token of his true 
 repentance, he yielded to the pope's hands his crown, and confessed 
 himself unworthy of the empire, if he ever again offended against 
 the pope, desiring for that time to be absolved and forgiven. The 
 pope answered, he would neither forgive him, nor release the bond oi 
 his excommunication, but upon condition that he would abide by his 
 arbitrament in the council, and undergo such penance as he should en- 
 
 / 
 
PAPAL USURPATIONS. jgg 
 
 join him ; that he should answer to all objections and accusations laid 
 against him, and that he should never seek revenge ; that it should be 
 at the pope's pleasure, whether his kingdom should be restored or 
 not. Finally, that before the trial of his cause, he should neither use 
 his kingly ornaments, nor usurp the authority to govern, nor exact 
 any oath of allegiance from his subjects, &c. These things being 
 promised to the pope by an oath, the emperor only was released from 
 excommunication. 
 
 King John surrenders his Crown to tlie Pope. 
 
 The ascendancy of the popes was never more fully evinced than by 
 a remarkable fact in the history of England. King John, having in- 
 curred the hatred of his barons and people by his cruel and tyranni- 
 cal measures, they took arms against him, and offered the crown to 
 Louis, son of the French king. By seizing the possessions of the 
 clergy, John had also fallen under the displeasure of the pope, who 
 accordingly laid the kingdom under an interdict, and absolved his 
 subjects from their allegiance. Alarmed at this, the tyrant earnestly 
 sued for peace with his holiness, hoping, by his mediation, to obtain 
 favourable terms from the barons, or, by his thunders, to terrify them 
 into submission. He made the most abject supplications, and the 
 pope, ever willing to increase the power of the church, sent cardinal 
 Pandulf as legate to the king at Canterbury; to whom John resign- 
 ed his crown and dominions ; and the cardinal, after retaining the 
 crown five days, in token of possession, retm-ned it to the king, on 
 condition of his making a yearly payment of 1000 marks to the court 
 of Rome, and holding the dominions of England and Ireland in farm 
 from the pope. 
 
 But if John expected any benefit from this most disgraceful transac- 
 tion, he was disappointed ; and instead of enjoying the crown which 
 he had so basely surrendered and received again, the short remainder 
 of his life was disturbed by continual insurrections, and he at last died, 
 either of grief or by poison, administered to him by amonk of Swines- 
 head in Lincolnshire. The latter cause is assigned by many historians, 
 and we are told that the king, suspecting some fruit which was pre- 
 sented to him at the above convent, to be poisoned, ordered the monk 
 who brought it, to eat of it ; which he did, and died in a few hours after. 
 
 An Emperor trodden on hy the Pope. 
 
 The papal usurpations were extended to every part of Europe. In 
 "Germany, the Emperor Frederic was compelled to submit to be trod- 
 den under the feet of Pope Alexander, and dared not make any resist- 
 ance. In England, however, a spirit of resentment broke out in vari- 
 ous reigns, in consequence of the oppressions and horrible conduct of 
 those anti-christian blasphemers, which continued with more or less 
 violence till the time of the great Wickliffe, of whom we shall speak 
 more fully in the following pages. 
 
190 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 ACCOUNT OF WICKLIFFE, AND OF THE MARTYRS WHO STTFFERED IN 
 DEFENCE OF HIS DOCTRINES. 
 
 The first attempts made in England towards the reformation of 
 the church, took place in the reign of Edward III. about A. D. 1350, 
 when John Wickliffe appeared. This early star of the English church 
 was public reader of divinity in the university of Oxford, and, by the 
 learned of his day, was accounted deeply versed in theology, and all 
 kinds of philosophy. At the time of his appearance, the greatest 
 darkness pervaded the church. Scarcely any thing but the name of 
 Christ remained ; his true doeti'ine being as far unknown to the most 
 part, as his name was common to all. As to faith, consolation, the 
 end and use of the law, the office of Christ, our impotency and weak- 
 ness, the greatness and strength of sin, of true works, grace, and free 
 justification by faith, wherein Christianity consists, they were either 
 unknov/n or disregarded. Scripture learning, and divinity, were 
 known but to a few, and that in the schools only, where they were 
 turned and converted into sophistry. Instead of Peter and Paul, men 
 occupied their time in studying Aquinas and Scotus ; and, forsaking 
 the lively power of God's spiritual word and doctrine, were altoge- 
 ther led and blinded with outward ceremonies and human traditions, 
 insomuch that scarcely any other thing was seen in the churches, 
 taught or spoken of in sermons, or intended or sought after in their 
 whole lives, but the heaping up of ceremonies upon ceremonies ; and 
 the people vv^ere taught to worship no other thing but that Avhich they 
 saw, and almost all they saw they worshipped. But Wicklifie was 
 inspired Avith a purer sense of religion ; and knowing it to be his duty 
 to impart the gracious blessing to others, he published his belief 
 with regard to the several articles of religion, in which he differed 
 from the common doctrine. Pope Gregory XI. hearing this, con- 
 demned some of his tenets, and commanded the archbishop of Can- 
 terbury, and the bishop of London, to oblige him to subscribe the con- 
 demnation of them ; and in case of refusal, to summon him to Rome. 
 This commission could not easily be executed, Wicklifl^e having pow- 
 erful friends, the chief of whom was John of Gaunt, duke of Lancas- 
 ter, son of Edward III. The archbishop holding a synod at St. Paul's, 
 Wickliffe appeared, accompanied by the duke of Lancaster and Lord 
 Percy, marshal of England, when a dispute arising whether Wickliffe 
 should answer sitting or standing, the duke of Lancaster proceeded to 
 threats, and treated the bishop with very little ceremony. The people 
 present, thinking the bishop in danger, sided with him, so that the 
 duke and the earl marshal thought it prudent to retire, and to take 
 Wickliffe with them. After this an insurrection ensued, the clergy 
 and their emissaries spreading a report that the duke of Lancaster 
 had persuaded the king to take away the privileges of the city of Lon- 
 don, &c. which fired the people to such a degree, that they broke 
 open the Marshalsea, and freed all the prisoners ; and not contented 
 with this, a vast number of them went to the duke's palace in the Sa- 
 voy, when, missing his person, they plundered his house. For this 
 outrage the duke of Lancaster caused the lord mayor and aldermen 
 
SCHISM IN THE COURT OF ROME. 191 
 
 to be removed from their offices, imagining they had not used their 
 authority to quell the mutineers. After this, the bishops meeting a 
 second time, Wickliife explained to them his sentiments with regard 
 to the sacrament of the eucharist, in opposition to the belief of the pa- 
 pists ; for which the bishops only enjoined him silence, not daring, 
 at that time, to proceed to greater extremities against him. 
 
 Great Schism in the Church of Rome. 
 
 A circumstance occurred at this period, by the providence of God, 
 which greatly tended to faciliate the progress of truth. This was a 
 great schism in the church of Rome, which originated as follows : Af 
 ter the death of Gregory XI. who expired in the midst of his anxiety 
 to crush Wicklifie and his doctrines. Urban the Sixth succeeded to 
 the papal chair. This pope was so proud and insolent, and so intent 
 on the advancement of his nephews and kindred, which he frequently 
 accomplished by injuring other princes, that the greatest number of 
 his cardinals and courtiers deserted him, and set up another pope 
 against him, named Cleinent, who reigned eleven years. After him 
 Benedict the Thirteenth, who reigned twenty-six years. Again, on 
 the contrary side, after Urban the Sixth, succeeded Boniface the Ninth, 
 Innocent the Eighth, Gregory the Twelfth, Alexander the Fifth, and 
 John the Thirteenth. To relate all the particulars of this miserable 
 &chism, would require volumes ; we shall merely take notice of a few 
 of the principal occurrences, from which the reader may form an idea 
 of the bloodshed and misery brought on the Christian world by the am- 
 bition and wickedness of these pretended representatives of our 
 blessed Saviour ; and may judge how widely they departed from his 
 blessed maxims of peace and good will to all men. Otho, duke of 
 Brunswick and prince of Tarentum, was taken and murdered. Joan, 
 iiis wife, queen of Jerusalem and Sicily, who had sent to pope Urban, 
 besides other gifts, 40,000 ducats in gold, was afterwards, by his 
 order, committed to prison, and there sti-angled. Many cardinals 
 were racked, and tortured to death ; battles were fought between the 
 rival popes, in which great multitudes were slain. Five cardinals 
 were beheaded together, after long torments. The bishop of Aqui- 
 lonensis, being suspected by Pope Urban, for not iiding faster when in 
 his company, was slain on the spot by the pope's order. Thus did 
 these demons in human form torment each other for the space of thir- 
 ty-nine years, until the council of Constance. 
 
 Wickliffe translates the Bible. 
 
 Wickliffe, paying less regard to the injunctions of the bishops than 
 to his duty to God, continued to promulgate his doctrines, and gradu- 
 ally to unveil the truth to the eyes of men. He wrote several books, 
 which, as may be supposed, gave great alarm and offence to the clergy. 
 But God raising him up a protector in the duke of Lancaster, he was 
 secure from their malice. He translated the Bible into English, which, 
 amidst the ignorance of the times, may be compared to the sun break- 
 ing forth in a dark night. To this Bible he prefixed a bold preface, 
 wherein he reflected on the immoralities of the clergy, and condemn- 
 ed the worship of sahits, images, and the corporal presence of Christ 
 in the sacrament ; but what gave the greatest ofl"ence to the priests, 
 was his exhorting all people to read the scriptures, in which the tes- 
 timonies against all those corruptions appeared so strongly. 
 
192 BOOK OF MARTVKW. 
 
 About the same time the common people, goaded to desperation by 
 the oppressions of the nobility and clergy, rose in arms, and commit- 
 ted great devastations ; and, among other persons of distinction, they 
 put to death Simon of Sudbury, archbishop of Canterbury. He was 
 succeeded by William Courtney, who was no less diligent than his 
 predecessor had been, in attempting to root out heretics. Notwith- 
 standing all opposition, however, Wickliffe's sect increased, and daily 
 grew to greater force, until the time that William Barton, vice-chan- 
 cellor of Oxford, Avho had the whole rule of that university, assisted 
 by some monastic doctors, issued an edict, prohibiting all persons, 
 under a heavy penalty, from associating themselves with any of 
 Wickliffe's favourers ; and threateningWicklifle himself with excom- 
 munication and imprisonment, unless he, after three days canonical 
 admonition or warning, did repent and amend. Upon this, WicklifTe 
 wished to appeal to the king ; but the duke of Lancaster forbade him ; 
 whereupon he was forced again to make confession of his doctrine ; 
 in which confession, by qualifying his assertions, he mitigated the 
 rigour of his enemies. 
 
 Still his followers greatlj' multiplied. Many of them, indeed, were 
 not men of learning ; but being wrought upon by the conviction of 
 plain reason, they were the more steadfast in their persuasion. In a 
 short time his doctrines made a great progress, being not only es- 
 poused by vast numbers of the students of Oxford, but also by many 
 of the nobility, particularly by the duke of Lancaster and Lord Percy, 
 earl marshal, as before mentioned. 
 
 Wickliffe may thus be considered as the great founder of the refor- 
 mation in England. He was of Merton College in Oxford, Avhere he 
 took his doctor's degree, and became so eminent for his fine genius 
 and great learning, that Simon Islip, archbishop of Canterbury, hav- 
 ing founded Canterbury College, now Christ Church, in Oxfoi'd, ap- 
 pointed him rector ; which employment he filled with universal ap- 
 probation, till the death of the archbishop. Langholm, successor to 
 Islip, being desirous of favouring the monks, and introducing them 
 into the college, attempted to re?^ove Wickliffe, and put Woodhall, a 
 monk, in his place. But the fellows of the college, being attached to 
 Wickliffe, would not consent to this. Nevertheless, the affair being 
 carried to Rome, Wickliffe was deprived in favour of Woodhall. This 
 did not at all lessen the reputation of the former, every one perceiving 
 it was a general affair, and that the monks did not so much strike at 
 Wickliffe's person, as at all the secular priests who were members of 
 the college. And, indeed, they were all turned out, to make room for 
 the monks. . Shortly after, Wickliffe was presented to the living of 
 Lutterworth, in the county of Leicester, where he remained unmo- 
 lested till his death, which happened December 31, 1385. But after 
 the body of this good man had lain in the grave forty-one years, his 
 bones were taken up by the decree of the synod of Constance, pub- 
 licly burnt, and his ashes thrown into a river. The condemnation of 
 his doctrine did not prevent its spreading all over the kingdom, and 
 with such success, that, according to Spelman, " two men could not 
 be found together, and one not a Lollard, or Wickliflnite." 
 
 Burning of the Wickliffites. 
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 The bones of WicMiffe taken iip and burnt, and the ashen 
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 Martyrdom of Tiioma^ Badby. page 194. 
 
BURNINg^ OF THE WICKLIPFIl'ES. J93 
 
 'tics, which required all magistrates to extirpate them upon pain of 
 forfeiture and deposition. The canons of this council being received 
 in England, the prosecution of the heretics became a part of the com- 
 mon law ; and a writ (styled de heretico comburendo) was issued under 
 King Henry IV. for burning them upon their conviction ; and it was 
 enacted, that all who presvuned to preach without the license of the 
 bishops, should be imprisoned, and brought to trial within three 
 months. If, upon conviction, they offered to abjure, and were not re- 
 lapses, they were to be imprisoned, and fined at pleasure ; but if they 
 refused to abjure, or were relapses, they were to be deliA^ered over to 
 the secular arm, and the magistrates were to burn them in some pub- 
 lic place. About this time, William Sautre, parish priest of St. Osith, 
 in London, being condemned as a relapse, and degraded by Arundel, 
 archbishop of Canterbury, a writ was issued, wherein burning is call- 
 ed the common punishment, and referring to the customs of other 
 nations. This was the^rst example of that sort in England. 
 
 The clergy, alarmed lest the doctrines of Wicklifie should ultimately 
 become established, used every exertion , in their power to check 
 them. In the reign of Richard II. the bishops had obtained a general 
 license to imprison heretics, without being obliged to procure a spe- 
 cial order from court, which, however, the house of commons caused 
 Jo be revoked. But as the fear of imprisonment could not check the 
 pretencled evil dreaded by the bishops, Henry IV. whose particular ob- 
 ject was to secure the affection of the clergy, earnestly recommended 
 Jo the parliament the concerns of the church. How reluctant soever 
 the house of commons might be to prosecute the Lollards, the credit 
 of the court, and the cabals of the clergy, at last obtained a most de- 
 testable act for the burning of obstinate heretics ; which bloody 
 statute was not repealed till the year 1677. It was immediately after 
 the passing of this statute, that the ecclesiastical court condemned 
 .William Sautre, abovementioned 
 
 Increase of Wickliffe's Doctrine. «■ 
 
 Notwithstanding the opposition of the popish clergy, Wickliffe's 
 doctrine continued to spread greatly in Henry the IVth's reign, even 
 to such a degree, that the majority of the house of commons were 
 inclined to it ; whence they presented Uvo petitions to the king, one 
 ,against the clergy, the other in favour of the Lollards. The first set 
 forth, that the clergy made ill use of their wealth, and consumed their 
 income in a manner quite different from the intent of the donors. 
 That their revenues were excessive, and, consequently, that it would 
 be necessary to lessen them ; that so many estates might easily be 
 seized as would provide for 150 earls at the rate of 3000 marks a year 
 each, 1500 barons at 100 marks, each, 6200 knights at 40 marks, and 
 100 hospitals ; that by this means the safety of the kingdom might be 
 better provided for, the poor better maintained, and the clergy more 
 devoted to their duty. In the second petition the commons prayed, 
 that th^ statute passed against the Lollards, in the second year of 
 this reign, might be repealed, or qualified with some restrictions. As 
 it was the king's interest to please the clergy, he answered the com- 
 mons very sharply, that he neither could nor w ould consent to their 
 petitions. And with regard to the Lollards, he declared he wished 
 
 25 
 
194 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 the heretics were extirpated out of the land. To prove the truth of 
 this, he signed a warrant for burning Thomas Badby. 
 
 Martyrdom of Thomas Badby. 
 
 Thomas Badby was a layman, and by trade a tailor. He was ar- 
 raigned in the year 1409 before the bishop of Worcester, and convict- 
 ed of heresy. On his examination he said, that it was impossible any 
 priest could make the body of Christ sacramentally, nor would he be- 
 lieve it, unless he saw, manifestly, the corporeal body of the Lord to 
 be handled by the priest at the altar ; that it was ridiculous to imagine 
 that at the supper Christ held in his own hand his own body, and 
 divided it among his disciples, and yet remained whole. "I believe," 
 said he, " the omnipotent God in trinity ; but if every consecrated 
 host at the altars be Christ's body, there must then be in England no 
 less than 20,000 gods." After this he was brought before the arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury at St. Paul's church, and again examined in 
 presence of a great number of bishops, the duke of York, and several 
 of the first nobility. Great pains were used to make him recant ; but 
 he courageously answered, that he would still abide by his former 
 opinions, which no poAver should force him to forego. On this the 
 archbishop of Canterbury ratified the sentence given by the bishop of 
 Worcester. When the king had signed the warrant for his death, he 
 was brought to Smithfield, and there being put in an empty tun, was 
 bound with iron chains fastened to a stake, and had dry wood piled 
 around him. As he was thus standing in the tun, it happened that the 
 prince of Wales, the king's eldest son, was there present ; who, being 
 moved with compassion, endeavoured to save the life of him whom 
 the hypocritical Levites and Pharisees sought to put to death. He 
 admonished and counselled him, that having respect unto himself, he 
 should speedily withdraw himself out of these dangerous labyrinths 
 of opinions, adding oftentimes threatenings, Avhich might have 
 daunted any man not supported by the true faith. Also Courtney, 
 at that time chancellor of Oxford, preached unto him, and informed 
 him of the faith of the holy chin-ch. 
 
 In the mean time, the prior of St. Bartholomew's, in Smithfield, 
 brought with all solemnity the sacrament of God's body, with tAvelve 
 torches borne before, and showed the sacrament to the poor man at 
 the stake. And then they demanded of him how he believed in it; he 
 answered, that he knew well it was hallowed bread, and not God's 
 body. And then was the tun put over him, and fire put unto him. 
 And when he felt the fire, he cried, " Mercy !" (calling upon the 
 Lord,) when the prince immediately commanded to take aAvay the tun, 
 and quench the fire. He then asked him if he Avould forsake heresy, 
 and take the faith of holy church, Avhich, if he would do, he should 
 have goods enough, promising him also a yearly pension out of the 
 king's treasury. But this valiant champion of Christ, neglecting the 
 prince's fair words, as also contemning all men's devices, refused, the 
 ofier of worldly promises, being more inflamed by the spirit of God, 
 than by any earthly desire. Wherefore, as he continued immoveable 
 in his former mind, the prince commanded him straight to be put again 
 into the tun, and that he should not afterAvards look for any grace or 
 favour. But as he could be allured by no rcAvards, he Avas not at all 
 abashed at their torments, but, as a valiant soldier of Christ, persevered 
 
SIR JOHN OLDCASTLE. 
 
 195 
 
 . invincibly till his body was reduced to ashes, and his soul rose trium- 
 phant unto him who gave it. 
 
 Martyrdom of Sir John Oldcastle. 
 
 The persecutions of the Lollards in the reign of Henry V. were 
 owing to the cruel instigations of the clergy, who thought that the 
 most effectual way to check the progress of WicklifFe's doctrine, would 
 be to attack the then chief protector of it, viz. Sir John Oldcastle, ba- 
 ron of Cobham ; and to persuade the king that the Lollards were en- 
 gaged in conspiracies to overturn the state^ It was even reported, 
 that they intended to murder the king, together with the princes, his 
 brothers, and most of the lords spiritual and temporal, in hopes that 
 the confusion which must necessarily arise in the kingdom, after such 
 a massacre, would prove favourable to their religion. Upon this a 
 false rumour was spread, that Sir John Oldcastle had go 1 together 20,000 
 men in St. Giles's in the Fields, a place then overgrown with bushes. 
 The king himself went thither at midnight, and finding no more than 
 fourscore or a hundred persons, who were privately met upon a reli- 
 gious account, he fell upon them and killed many. Some of them be- 
 ing afterwards examined, were prevailed upon, by promises or threats, 
 to confess whatever their enemies desired ; and these accused Sir 
 John Oldcastle. 
 
 The king hereupon thought him guilty ; and in that belief set a thou- 
 sand marks upon his head, with a promise of perpetual exemption 
 fiom taxes to any town which should secure him. Sir John was ap- 
 prehended and imprisoned in the Tower ; but escaping from thence, 
 he fled into Wales, where he long concealed himself. But being af- 
 terwards seized in Powisland, in North Wales, by Lord Powis, he was 
 brought to London, to the great joy of the clergy, who were highly 
 incensedagainst him, and resolved to sacrifice him, to strike a terror 
 into the rest of the Lollards. Sir John was of a very good family, had 
 been sheriff" of Hertfordshire under Henry IV. and summoned to par- 
 liament among the barons of the realm in that reign. He had been 
 sent beyond the sea, with the earl of Arundel, to assist the duke of 
 Burgundy against the French. In a word, he was a man of extraor- 
 dinary merit, notwithstanding which he was condemned to be hanged 
 up by the waist with a chain, and burnt alive. This most barbarous 
 sentence was executed amidst the curses and imprecations of the priests 
 and monks, who used their utmost endeavours to prevent the people 
 from praying for him. Such was the tragical end of Sir John Old- 
 castle, who left the world with a resolution and constancy, that an- 
 swered perfectly to the brave spirit with which he had ever maintained 
 the cause of truth and of his God. 
 
 Not satisfied with his single death, the clergy induced the parlia- 
 ment to make fresh statutes against the Lollards. It was enacted, 
 among other things, that whosoever read the scriptures in English, 
 should forfeit lands, chattels, goods, and life, and be condemned as 
 heretics to God, enemies to the crown, and traitors to the kingdom ; 
 that they should not have the Jbenefit of any sanctuary ; and that, if 
 they continued obstinate, or relapsed after being pardoned, they should 
 first be hanged for treason against the king'', and then burned for he- 
 resy against God. This act was no sooner passed, but a violent per- 
 secution was raised against the Lollards ; several of them were burnt 
 
]96 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 alive, some fled the kingdom, and others were weak enough to abjnr^" 
 their religion, to escape the torments prepared for them. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Progress of the Reformation in the reign of henry viit. 
 
 The reader will doubtless attend to the transactions recorded in this 
 reign with peculiar interest. It was iii this period that God, through 
 the instrumentality of the king, liberated England from the papal 
 yoke, and made this country, as it were, a religious world dependant 
 on itself. 
 
 The wars between the two houses of York and Lancaster, had pro- 
 duced such fatal revolutions, and thrown England into such frequent 
 convulsions, that the nation, with great joy, hailed the accession of 
 Henry the Seventh to the throne, who being himself descended from 
 the house of Lancaster, by his marriage with the heiress of the house 
 of York, freed them from the fear of any farther civil wars. But the 
 covetousness of his temper, the severity of his ministers, and his jea- 
 lousy of the house of York, made him so generally odious to his peo- 
 ple, that his death was little lamented. 
 
 Henry the Eighth succeeded, A. D. 1509, with all the advantages he 
 could have desired ; and his disgracing Empson and Dudley, the cruel 
 ministers of his father's avaricious designs, his appointing restitution 
 to be made of the sums that had been unjustly exacted of the people, 
 and his ordering justice to be done on those rapacious ministers, gave 
 all people hopes of happy times ; and when ministers by the king's 
 orders, were condemned and executed for invading the liberties of the 
 people, under the covert of the king's prerogative, it made the nation 
 conclude, tha they should hereafter live secure, under the protection 
 of such a prince, and that the violent remedies of parliamentary judg- 
 ments should be.no more necessary, except as in this case, to confirm 
 what had been done before in the ordinary courts of justice. 
 
 The king also, either from the munificence of his own temper, or the 
 observation he had made of the ill effects of his father's parsimony, 
 distributed his rewards and largesses with an unmeasured bounty : so 
 that he quickly expended those treasures which his father had left ; 
 but till the ill effects of this appeared, it raised in his court and subjects 
 the greatest hopes possible of a prince, whose first actions showed an 
 equal mixture of justice and generosity. 
 
 Character of Cardinal Wolsey. 
 
 One of the most remarkable men of this, or perhaps of any other 
 age, was Cardinal Wolsey. He was of mean extraction, but possess- 
 ed great abilities, and had a wonderful dexterity in insinuating him- 
 self into men's favour. He had but a little time been introduced to 
 the king before he obtained an entire ascendancy over him, and the di- 
 rection of all his affairs, sind for fifteen years continued to be the most 
 absolute favourite ever known in England. He saw the king was much 
 set on his pleasures, and had a great aversion to business, and the other 
 counsellors being unwilling to bear the load of affairs, were trouble- 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. l^gy 
 
 some to him, by pressing him to govern by his own counsels ; but Wol- 
 sey knew the methods of favourites better, and so was not only easy, 
 but assistant to the king in his pleasures, and undertook to free him 
 from the trouble of government^ and to give him leisure to follow his 
 appetites. 
 
 He was master of all the offices at home, and treaties abroad, so 
 that all afiairs went as he directed them. He soon became obnoxious 
 to parliaments, and therefore tried but one during his ministry, where 
 the supply was granted so scantily, that afterwards he chose rather to 
 raise money by loans and benevolences, than by the free gift of the 
 people in parliament. He in time became so scandalous for his ill 
 life, that he grew to be a disgrace to his profession ; for he not only 
 served the king, but also shared with him in his pleasures. He was 
 first made bishop of Tournay in Flanders, then of Lincoln, after that 
 he was promoted to the see of York, and had both the abbey of St. Al- 
 bans, and the bishopric of Bath and Wells in commendam ; the last he 
 afterwards exchanged for Duresm, and upon Fox's death, he quitted 
 Duresm, that he might take Winchester ; and besides all this, the 
 king, by a special grant, gave him power to dispose of all the ecclesi- 
 astical preferments in England ; so that in effect he was the pope of 
 the British world, and no doubt but he copied skilfully enough after 
 those patterns that were set him at Rome. Being made a cardinal, 
 and setting up a legatine court, he found it fit for his ambition to have 
 the great seal likewise, that there might be no clashing between those 
 two jurisdictions. He had, in one word, all the qualities necessary 
 for a great minister, and all the vices usual in a great favourite 
 
 Persecution of the Lollards. 
 
 In the beginning of this reign, several persons were brought into th6 
 bishops' courts for heresy, or Lollardism. Forty-eight were accused ; 
 but of these, forty-three abjured, twenty-seven men, and sixteen wo- 
 men, most of them being of Tenterden ; and five of them, four men 
 and one woman, were condemned ; some as obstinate heretics, and 
 others as relapses ; and, against the common laws of nature, the wo- 
 man's husband, and her two sons, were brought as witnesses against 
 her. Upon their conviction, a certificate was made by the archbishop 
 to the chancery ; upon which, since there is no pardon upon record, 
 the writs for burning them must have been issued in course, and the 
 execution of them is little to be doubted. The articles objected to 
 them were, that they believed, that in the eucharist there was nothing 
 but material bread; that the sacraments of baptism, confirmation, con- 
 fession, matrimony, and extreme unction, were neither necessary nof 
 profitable ; that priests had no more power than laymen ; that pilgri- 
 mages were not meritorious, and that the money and labour spent in them 
 were spent in vain ; that images ought not to be worshipped, and that 
 they were only stocks and stones; that prayers ought not to be made 
 to saints, but only to God ; that there was no virtue in holy water, or 
 holy bread. By this it will appear, that many in this nation were pre- 
 pared to receive those doctrines, which were afterwards preached by 
 the reformers, even before Luther began first to oppose indulgences. 
 Progress of Luther's Doctrine. 
 
 The rise and progress of the doctrines of Luther are well known; 
 the scandalous sale of indulgences gave the first occasion to all that 
 
198 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 followed between him and the church of Rome ; in which, had not the 
 corruptions and cruelties of the clergy been so visible and scandalous, 
 so small a cause could never have produced so great a revolution. 
 
 The bishops were grossly ignorant ; they seldom resided in their 
 dioceses, except on great festivals ; and all the effect their residence 
 at such times could have, was to corrupt others by their ill example. 
 They attached themselves to princes, and aspired to the greatest 
 offices. The abbots and monks were wholly given up to luxury and 
 idleness ; and their unmarried state gave infinite scandal to the world ; 
 for it appeared, that the restraining them from having wives of their 
 own, made them conclude, that they had a right to all other men's. The 
 inferior clergy were no better; and not having places of retreat to con- 
 ceal their vices in, as the monks had, they became more public. In 
 short, all ranks of churchmen were so universally despised and hated, 
 that the world was very easily possessed with prejudice against the 
 doctrines of men whom they knew to be capable of every vice ; and 
 the worship of God was so defiled with gross superstition, that all men 
 were easily convinced, that the church stood in great need of a refor- 
 mation. This was much increased when the books of the fathers be- 
 gan to be read, in which the difference between the former and latter 
 ages of the church, did very evidently appear. It was found that a 
 blind superstition came first in the room of true piety ; and when, by 
 its means, the wealth and interest of the clergy were highly advanced, 
 the popes had upon that established their tyranny ; under which all 
 classes of people had long groaned. All these things concurred to 
 make way for the advancement of the reformation ; and, the books of 
 the German reformers being brought into England, and translated, 
 many were prevailed on by them. Upon this, a furious persecution 
 was set on foot, to such a degree, that six men and women were 
 burnt in Coventry in passion week, only for teaching their children 
 the creed, the Lord's prayer, and the ten commandments, in Euj?^lish. 
 ^reat numbers were every where brought into the bishops' courts; 
 of whom some were burnt, but the greater part abjured. 
 
 The king laid hold, on this occasion, to become the champion of 
 the church, and wrote against Luther. His book, besides the title of 
 " Defender of the Faith," drew upon him all that flattery could in- 
 vent to extol it ; yet Luther, not daunted by such an antagonist, an- 
 swered it, and treated him as much below the respect that was due 
 to a king, as his flatterers had raised him above it. Tindal's transla- 
 tion of the New Testament, with notes, drew a severe condemnation 
 from the clergy, there being nothing in which they were more con- 
 cerned, than to keep the people unacquainted with that book. Thus 
 much may serve to show the condition of affairs in England both in 
 church and state, when the process of the king's divorce was first set 
 on foot. 
 
 History of Henry's Marriage with Catherine. 
 
 As this incident is so replete with consequences, a particular re- 
 lation of its cause will not, it is presumed, be unacceptable to the 
 reader. 
 
 Henry the Seventh had entered into a firm alliance with Ferdinand 
 of Spain, and agreed on a match between his son. Prince Arthur, and 
 Catherine, the infanta of Spain. She came into England^ and wa* 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION I99 
 
 married in November ; but on the second of April after, the prince 
 died. They were not only bedded in ceremony the night of the 
 marriage, but continued still to lodge together ; and the prince gave 
 occasion to believe that the marriage was consummated. 
 
 The king being unwilling to restore so great a portion as 200,000 
 ducats, which the princess brought as her dowry, proposed a second 
 match for her with his younger son Henry. Warham objected against 
 the lawfulness of it; but Fox, bishop of Winchester, was for it, and 
 the opinion of the pope's authority was then so well established, that 
 it was thought a dispensation from Rome was sufficient to remove all 
 objections. Accordingly, one was obtained, grovmded upon the desire 
 of the two young persons to marry together, for the preservation of 
 peace between the crowns of England and Spain. 
 
 The pope was then at war with Louis the Twelfth of France, and 
 so would refuse nothing to the king of England, being, perhaps, not 
 vmwilling that princes should contract such marriages, by which me 
 legitimation of their issue, depending on the pope's dispensation, 
 they would be thereby obliged in interest to support that authority. 
 Upon this a marriage followed, the prince being yet under age ; but 
 the same day in which he came to be of age, he did, by his father's 
 orders, make a protestation that he retracted and annulled his mar- 
 riage. 
 
 Henry the Seventh, on his death-bed, charged his son to break it off 
 entirely, being perhaps apprehensive of such a return of confusion 
 upon a controverted succession to the croAvn, as had been during the 
 wars of the houses of York aid Lancaster ; but after his father's 
 death, Henry the Eighth, being then eighteen years of age, married 
 her : she bore him two sons, who died soon after they were born ; 
 and a daughter, Mary, afterwards queen of England. After this the 
 queen contracted some diseases that made her unacceptable to the 
 king ; who, at the same time beginning to have some scruples of 
 conscience with regard to the lawfulness of his marriage, determined 
 to have the affair investigated. 
 
 The King^s Scruples concerning his Marriage. 
 
 He seemed to lay the greatest weight on the prohibition in the le- 
 vitical law, of marrying the brother's wife, and being conversant in 
 Thomas Aquinas's writings, he found, that he and the other school- 
 men looked on those laws as moral, and forever binding ; and conse- 
 quently the pope's dispensation was of no force, since his authority 
 went not so far as to dispense with the laws of God. All the bishops 
 of England, Fisher of Rochester only excepted, declared under their 
 hands and seals, that they judged the marriage unlawful. The ill con- 
 sequence of wars that might follow upon a doubtful title to the crown, 
 vi^ere also much considered. It is not certain that Henry's affection 
 for any other lady was the origin of these proceedings ; but whatever 
 be the determination of this point, it is certain that about this time he 
 gave free scope to his affections towards Anne Boleyn. 
 
 This lady was born in the year 1507, and at seven years of age 
 was sent to France, where she remained twelve years, and then re- 
 turned to England. She was much admired in both courts, was more 
 beautiful than graceful, and more cheerful than discreet. She wanted 
 none of the charms of wit or person, and must have had extraordinary 
 
•200 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 attractions, since she could so long retain her place in such a king'44 
 affection. 
 
 Knight, then secretary of state, was sent to Rome to prepare the 
 pope to grant a dispensation from the former marriage. Knight 
 made application in the most secret manner he could, and had a very 
 favourable answer ; for the pope promised frankly to dissolve the 
 marriage : but another promise being exacted of him by the emperoi 
 Chfirles V. nephew of Catherine, not to proceed in that affair, he was 
 reduced to great straits, being then at his mercy, and yet unwilling to 
 offend the king of England : he therefore studied to gain time, and 
 promised that if the king would have a little patience, he should not 
 only have that which he asked, but every thing that was in his power 
 to grant. 
 
 -Some scruples were made concerning the bull that was demanded, 
 till, by great presents, it was at length obtained, and then the pope 
 signed a commission for Wolsey to try the cause, and jud^e in it, 
 and also a dispensation, and put them in Knight's hands ; but with 
 tears prayed him that there might be no proceedings upon them, till 
 the emperor was put out of a capacity of executing his revenge upon 
 him, and whenever that was done, he would own this act of justice, 
 which he did in the king's favour. 
 
 The pope was at this time offended with Cardinal Wolsey ; for he 
 understood, that during his captivity, Wolsey had been in an intrigue 
 to get himself chosen vicar of the papacy, and was to have sate at 
 Avignon, which might have produced a new schism. Staphileus, 
 dean of the Rota, being then in Engjrmd, was prevailed on by the pro- 
 mise of a bishopric, and a recommendation to a cardinal's hat, to pro- 
 mote the king's affair ; and by him the cardinal wrote to the pope, in 
 ■a most earnest strain, for a despatch of this business ; and he desired, 
 that an indifferent and tractable cardinal might be sent over, with a 
 full commission to join with him, and to judge the matter ; proposing 
 to the king's ambassadors, Campegio, who was the fittest man. 
 
 The cardinal, in his letters to Cassuli, who was in great favour with 
 the pontiff, offered to take the blame on his own soul, if the pope 
 would grant this bull ; and with an earnestness, as hearty and warm 
 as can be expressed in words, he pressed the thing, and added, that 
 if the pope continued inexorable, he perceived the king would pro- 
 ceed another way. 
 
 These entreaties had such an effect, that Campegio was declared 
 legate, and ordered to go to England, and join in commission with 
 Wolsey for judging this matter. He accordingly set out from Rome, 
 and carried with him a decretal bull, for annulling the marriage, which 
 he was authorized to show to the king and Wolsey ; but was required 
 not to give it out of his hands to either of them. 
 
 Campegio comes into England. 
 
 In October, he arrived in England, and advised the king to relin- 
 quish the prosecution of his suit ; and then counselled the queen, in 
 .the pope's name, to enter into a religious community ; but both were 
 in vain ; and he, by affecting an impartiality, almost lost both sides. 
 But he in great measure pacified the king, when he showed him the 
 bull he liad brought over for annulling the marriage ; yet he would 
 not pairt with it out of hia hands, neither to the king, nor the cardinal ' 
 
John Lambert on his Trial. Pa^e 234. 
 
 Dr. R. Barnes before Car-dinal Wolsey. Page 236. 
 
 Mrs. Askew on the Rock. Page 245. 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 201 
 
 upon which, great solicitation was employed at Rome, that Campegio 
 might be ordered to show it to some of the king's counsellors, and 
 to go on and end the business, otherwise Wolsey would be ruined, 
 and England lost ; yet all this did not prevail on the pope, who knew 
 that the king intended to get the bull out of Campegio's hands, and 
 then to leave the pontiff to the .emperor's indignation ; but thougJi 
 he positively refused to grant that, yet, he said, he left the legates in 
 England free to judge as they saw cause, and promised that he would 
 confirm their sentence. 
 
 The affair proceeding very slowly, ambassadors were dispatched 
 to Rome with new propositions, for a speedy termination. On this, 
 the pope gave new assurances, that thougli he would not grant a 
 bull, by which the divorce should be immediately his own act, yet 
 he Avould confirm the legates' sentence. 
 
 . About this time the pope was taken suddenly ill, upon which the 
 imperialists began to prepare for a conclave ; but Farnese, and the 
 cardinal of Mantua, opposed them, and seemed to favour Wolsey ; 
 whom, as his correspondents wrote to him, " they reverenced as a 
 deity." Upon this he dispatched a courier to Gardiner, then on his 
 way to Rome, with large directions how to manage the election ; it 
 was reckoned, that on the king of France joining heartily with Henry, 
 of which he seemed confident, there were only six cardinals wanting 
 to make the election sure, and besides sums of money, and other 
 rewards, that were to be distributed among them, he was to give 
 them assurance, that the cardinal's preferments should be divided 
 among them. These were the secret methods of obtaining that chair; 
 and, indeed, it would puzzle a man of an ordinary degree of credulity, 
 to think, that one chosen by such means could presume to be 
 Christ's vicar, and the infallible judge of controversies. The re- 
 covery, however, of the pope, put an end to those intrigues. 
 
 The Queen Appeals to the Pope. 
 
 At length the legates began the process, when the queen protested 
 against them as incompetent judges. They, however, proceeded ac- 
 cording to the forms of law, although the queen had appealed from 
 them to the pope, and objected both to the place, to the judges, and 
 her lawyers ; yet they pronounced her contumacious, and went on to 
 examine witnesses, chiefly as to the consummation of her mari-iage 
 with Prince Arthur. But now, since the process was thus going on, 
 the emperor's agents pressed the pope vehemently for an avocation ; 
 and all possible endeavours w^ere used by the king's agents to hinder 
 it ; it was told him, that there was a treaty on foot between the king 
 and the Lutheran princes of Germany ; and that upon declaring him- 
 self so partial as to grant the avocation, this would certainly be con- 
 cluded. But the pope thought the king so far engaged in honour in 
 the points of religion, that he would not be prevailed with to unite with 
 Luther's followers ; he did not, therefore, imagine, that the effects of 
 his granting the avocation would be so fatal as was represented. In 
 conclusion, therefore, after the emperor had engaged to him to re- 
 store his family to the government of Florence, the pope resolved to 
 publish his treaty with him ; he told the English ambassadors, that he 
 was forced to it; both because all the lawyers told him it could not 
 be denied, and that he could not resist the emperor's forces, which 
 
 26 
 
BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 surrounded him On all hands. Their endeavours to gain a little time 
 by delays were as fruitless as their other arts had been, for, on the 
 15th of July, the pope signed it, and, on the 19th, sent it by an ex- 
 press messenger to England. 
 
 The legates, and among them Campegio in particular, drew out 
 the matter, by all the delays they could contrive, and gained much 
 time. At last, sentence being to be pronounced, Campegio, instead 
 of pronouncing it, adjourned the court till October, and said, that they 
 being a part of the consistory, must observe their times of vacation. 
 This gave the king and his court great offence, when they saw what 
 was like to be the issue of a process, on which his majesty was so 
 much bent, and in which he was so far engaged, both in honour and 
 interest. The king governed himself upon this occasion with more 
 tettiper than was expected ; he dismissed Campegio civilly, only his 
 officers searched his coffers when he went beyond sea, with design, as 
 was thought, to see if the decretal bull could be found. Wolsey was 
 now upon the point of being disgraced, though the king seemed to 
 treat him with all his former confidence. 
 
 Account of Cranmer. 
 
 At this period. Dr. Cranmer, a fellow of Jesus' College in Cam- 
 bridge, meeting accidentally with Gardiner and Fox at Waltham, and 
 entering into discourse upon the royal marriage, suggested, that the 
 king should engage the chief universities and divines of Europe, to 
 examine the lawfulness of his marriage ; and if they gave their reso- 
 lutions against it, then it being certain that the pope's dispensation 
 could not derogate from the law of God, the marriage must be de- 
 clared null. This novel and reasonable scheme they proposed to the 
 king, who was much pleased with it, as he saw this way was better in 
 itself, and would mortify the pope. Cranmer was accordingly sent 
 for, and on conversing with him, the king conceived an high opinion 
 both of his learning and prudence, as well as of his probity and sin- 
 cerity, which took such root in his mind, that no artifices, nor calum- 
 nies^ were ev€r able to remove it. 
 
 Wolsey is Disgraced. 
 
 From this moment began the decline of Wolsey. The great seal 
 was taken from him, and given to Sir Thomas More ; and he was sued 
 in a praemunire, for having held the legitimate courts by a foreign 
 authority, contrary to the laws of England ; he confessed the indict- 
 ment, pleaded ignorance, and submitted himself to the king's mercy ', 
 so judgment passed on him ; then vi'as his rich palace and royal f' r- 
 niture seized on for the royal use ; yet the king received him a^ m\ 
 into his protection, and restored to him the temporalities of the sees 
 of York and "Winchester, and above 6000Z. in plate, and other goods. 
 Articles were, however, preferred against him in the house of lords, 
 where he had but few friends ; but Cromwellj who had been his se- 
 ci-etary, did so manage the matter in the house of commons, that it 
 came to nothing. This failing, his enemies procured an order to be 
 sent to him, to go into Yorkshire ; thither he went in great state, with 
 160 horses in his train, and 72 carts following him. There he lived 
 some time ; but the king being informed that he was practising with 
 the pope and the emperor, sent the earl of Northumberland to arrest 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 203 
 
 him for high treason, and bring him up to London. On the way he 
 sickened, and died at Leicester, making great protestations of his 
 constant fidelity to the king, particularly in the matter of his divorce: 
 and " wishing he had served God as faithfully as he had done the 
 king ; for then he would not have cast him off in his gray hairs, as 
 the king had done :" words that declining favourites are apt to reflect 
 on, but seldom remember in the height of their fortune. 
 
 The Universities declare against the King's Marriage. 
 
 The king now intending to proceed in the method proposed by 
 Cranmer, sent to Oxford and Cambjidge, to procure their conclu- 
 sions. At Oxford, it was referred by the major part of the convoca- 
 tion to thirty -three doctors and bachelors of divinity, whom that fa- 
 culty was to name : they were empowered to determine the question, 
 and put the seal of the university to their conclusion. And they gave 
 their opinions, that the marriage of the brother's wife was contrary 
 both to the laws of God and nature. At Cambridge the convocation 
 referred the question to twenty-nine ; of which number, two thirds 
 agreeing, they were empowered to put the seal of the university to 
 their determination. These agreed in opinion with those of Oxford. 
 The jealousy of Dr. Cranmer's favouring Lutheranism, caused the 
 fierce popish party to oppose every thing in which he was engaged. 
 They were also afraid of Anne Boleyn's advancement, who was be- # 
 iieved to be tinctured with these opinions. Crook, a learned man, 
 was employed in Italy, to procure the resolution of divines there ; ia 
 which he was so successful, that besides the great discoveries he 
 made in searching the manuscripts of the Greek fathers concerning 
 their opinions in this point, he engaged several persons to write for 
 the king's cause : and also got the Jews to give their opinions of the 
 laws in Leviticus, that they were moral and obligatory.; yet, when a 
 brother died without issue, his brother might marry his widow within 
 Judea, for preserving their families and succession ; but they thought 
 that might not be done out of Judea. The state of Venice would not 
 declare themselves, but said they would be neutral, and it was not 
 easy to persuade the divines of the republic to give their opinions, 
 till a brief was obtained of the pope, permitting all divines and ca- 
 nonists to deliver their opinions according to their consciences. The 
 pope abhorred this way of proceeding, though he could not decently 
 oppose it : but he said, in great scorn, that no friar should set limits 
 to his power. Crook was ordered to give no money, nor make pro- 
 mises to any, till they had freely delivered their opinion ; which he 
 is said to have faithfully observed. 
 
 He sent over to England a hundred several books, and papers, 
 with many subscriptions ; all condemning the king's marriage as un- 
 lawful in itself. At Paris, the Sorbonne made their "determination 
 with great solemnity ; after mass, all the doctors took an oatli to 
 study the question, and to give their judgment according to their 
 consciences; and after three weeks study the greater part agreed on 
 this : " that the king's marriage was lawful, and that the pope could 
 not dispense with it." At Orleans, Anglers, and Toulouse, they de- 
 termined to the same purpose. 
 
 Calvin thought the marriage null, and all agreed that the pope's 
 dispensation was of no force. Osiander was employed to engage the 
 
264 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Lutheran divines, but they were afraid of giving the emperor new 
 grounds of displeasure. 
 
 Melancthon thought the law in Leviticus was dispensable, and that 
 the marriage might be lawful ; and that, in those matters, states and 
 princes might make what laws they pleased ; and though the divines 
 of Leipsic, after much disputing about it, did agree, that those laws 
 were moral, yet they could never be brought to justify the divorce, 
 with the subsequent marriage ; but the pope was more compliant, for 
 he offered to Cassali, to grant the king dispensation for having ano- 
 ther wife, with which the imperialists seemed not dissatisfied. 
 
 The king's cause being thus fortified, by so many resolutions in his 
 favour, he made many members of the parliament, in a prorogation 
 time, sign a letter to the pope, complaining, that notwithstanding the 
 great merits of the king, the justice of his cause, and the importance 
 of it to the safety of the kingdom, yet the pope made still new de- 
 lays ; they therefore pressed him to despatch it speedily, otherwise 
 they would be forced to seek other remedies, though they were not 
 willing to drive things to extremities, till it was unavoidable. The 
 letter was signed by the cardinal,, the archbishop of Canterbury, four 
 bishops, twenty-two abbots, forty-two peers, and eleven commoners. 
 
 To this the pope wrote an answer : he took notice of the vehe- 
 mence of their style : he freed himself from the imputations of ingra- 
 titude and injustice : he acknowledged the king's great merits ; and 
 said, he had done all he could in his favour ; he had granted a comr 
 mission, but could not refuse to receive the queen's appeal ; all the 
 cardinals with one consent judged, that an avocation was necessary. 
 Since that time, the delays lay not with him, but with the king ; that 
 he was ready to proceed, and would bring it to as speedy an issue as 
 the importance of it would admit of; and for their threatenings, they 
 were neither agreeable to their wisdom, nor their religion. 
 
 The king, now disgusted at his dependance on the pope, issued a 
 proclamation against any that should purchase, bring over, or publish 
 any bull from Rome, contrary to his aiithority : and after that he 
 made an abstract of all the reasons and authorities of the fathers, or 
 modern writers, against his marriage, to be published both in Latin 
 and English. 
 
 Both sides havingproduced the strength of their cause, it evidently 
 appeared, that, according to the authority given to the tradition in the 
 church of Rome, the king had clearly the right on his side. 
 
 Amidst these disputes, the queen continued firm to her resolution 
 of leaving the matter in the pope's hands, and would not listen to any 
 propositions for referring the matter to the arbitration of a number 
 chosen on both sides. 
 
 The King leaves the Queen. 
 
 After the prorogation of parliament, new applications were made 
 to the queen to persuade her to depart from her appeal ; but she re- 
 mained fixed in her resolution, and said she was the king's lawful 
 wife, and would abide by it, till the court of Rome should declare to 
 the contrary. Upon that, the king desired her to choose any of his 
 houses in the country to live in, and resolved never to see her more 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 205 
 
 Tlie Pope vxrites to the King, and is answered. 
 
 In January, 1532, the pope, upon the motion of the imperialists, 
 wrote to the king, complaining, that notwithstanding a suit was de- 
 pending concerning his marriage, yet he had put away his queen, and 
 kept one Anne as his wife, contrary to a prohibition served on him ; 
 he therefore exhorted him to live with his queen again, and to put 
 away Anne. Upon this the king sent Dr. Bennet to Rome with a 
 large despatch, in which he complained that the pope proceeded in 
 that matter upon the suggestion of others, who were ignorant and rash 
 men, and had carried himself inconstantly and deceitfully into it, and 
 not as became Christ's vicar ; he had granted a commission, had pro- 
 mised never to recal it, and had sent over a decretal bull defining the 
 cause. Either these were unjustly granted, or unjustly recalled. It 
 was plain that he acted more with regard to his interests than accord- 
 ing to conscience ; and that, as the pope had often confessed his own 
 ignorance in these matters, so he v/as not furnished with learned men 
 to advise him, otherwise he would not defend a marriage which almost 
 all the learned men and universities in England, France, and Italy, had 
 condemned as unlawful. He would not question his authority unless 
 he Avere compelled to it, and would do nothing but reduce it to its first 
 and ancient limits. 
 
 This haughty letter made the pope resolve to proceed and end this 
 matter, either by a sentence or a treaty. The king was cited to an- 
 swer the queen's appeal at Rpme in person, or by proxy ; accordingly. 
 Sir Edward Karne was sent thither in the new character of the king's 
 excusator, to excuse the king's appearance, upon such grounds as 
 could be founded on the' common law, and upon the privileges of the 
 crown of England. The imperialists pressed the pope to give sen- 
 tence, but the wiser cardinals, who observed that the nation would 
 adhere to the king, if he should be provoked to shake off the pope's 
 yoke, suggested milder counsels. 
 
 In conclusion, the pope seemed to favour the king's excusatory plea, 
 upon which the imperialists made great complaints. But this amounted 
 to no more, than that the king was not bound to appear in f)erson ; 
 therefore, the cardinals, who w«re in his interest, advised the king to 
 send over a proxy for answering to the merits of the cause. Bonner 
 was also sent to England to assure the king that the pope was now so 
 much in the French interest, that he might confidently refer his mat- 
 ter to him. 
 
 At that time the king sent for the speaker of the house of commons, 
 and told him he found the prelates were but half subjects; for they 
 swore at their consecration an cath to the pope, inconsistent with their 
 allegiance and oath to him. By their oath to the pope, they swore 
 to be in no council against him, nor to disclose his secrets ; but to 
 maintain the papacy, and the rights and authorities ,of the church of 
 Rome, against all men. In their oath to the king, they renounced 
 all clauses in their bulls contrary to the king's royal dignity, and 
 swore to be faithful to him, and to live and die with him against all 
 others, and to keep his counsel ; acknowledging that they held their 
 bishoprics only of him. It was evident they could not keep both 
 these oaths, in case of a breach between the king and the pope. 
 Biit the plague broke off the consultations of parliament at this time. 
 
206 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 Soon after, Sir Thomas More, seeing a rupture with Rome coming on - 
 so fast, desired leave to lay down his office, which was, upon that, con- 
 ferred on Sir Thomas Audley. More was satisfied with the king's 
 keeping up the laws formerly made in opposition to the papal en- 
 croachments, and so had concurred in a suit of the praemunire which 
 had been issued against the clergy ; but now the matter went farther, 
 and not being able to keep pace with the king's measures, he returned 
 to a private life. 
 
 Interview of the Kings of England and France. 
 
 An interview soon followed between the kings of France and Eng- 
 land ; in which Francis promised Henry to second him in his suit ; 
 encouraged him to proceed to a second marriage without delay, and 
 assm'ed him of his assistance and support ; meantime, the pope offered 
 to the king to send a legate to any indifferent place out of England, to 
 form the process, reserving only the giving sentence to himself, and 
 proposed to him, and all princes, a general truce, to be followed by a 
 general council. 
 
 The king answered, that such was the present state of the affairs of 
 Europe, that it was not seasonable to call a general council ; and that 
 it was contrary to his prerogative to send a proxy to appear at Rome ; 
 that by the decrees of general councils, all causes ought to be judged 
 on the place, find by a provincial council ; and that it was fitter to 
 judge it in England, than any where else ; and that by his coronation 
 ^oath he was bound to maintain the dignities of his crown, and the 
 rights of his subjects ; and not to appear before any foreign court. 
 ,^ir Thomas Efliot was, therefore, sent over with instructions, to move 
 that the cause might be judged in England. 
 
 The King marries Anne Boleyn. 
 
 Soon after this, the king married Anne Boleyn ; Rowland Lee 
 (afterwards bishop of Coventry and Litchfield) officiated, none being 
 present but the duke of Norfolk, and her father, mother, brother, and 
 Cranmer. It was thought that the former marriage being null, the 
 king might proceed to another ; and perhaps they hoped, that as the 
 ^op£ had formerly proposed this method, so he would now approve 
 of it. But though the pope had joined himself to France, yet he was 
 stiH so much in fear of the emperor, that he dared not provoke him. 
 A new citation was, therefore, issued out, for the king to answer to the 
 queen's complaints ; but Henry's agents protested, that their master 
 'Sras a sovereign prince, and England a free church, over which the 
 pope had no just authority ; and that the king could expect no justice 
 ,?it Rome, where the emperor's power was so great. 
 
 The Parliament condemns Appeals to Rome. 
 
 At this time, the parliament met again, and passed an act, condemn- 
 ing all appeals to Rome; and enacting, that thenceforth all causes 
 should be judged within the kingdom, and that sentences given in 
 England were to have full effect ; and all that executed any censures 
 from Rome, were to incur the pain of praemunire. 
 
 Cranmer made Archbishop of Canterbury 
 
 Warham, archbishop of Canterbury, having died the preceding year, 
 was succeeded by Cranmer, who was then in Germany, disputing in 
 the king's cause with some of the emperor's divines. The king re- 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 207 
 
 solved to advance him to that dignity, and sent him word of it, that so 
 he might make haste over : but a promotion so far above his thoughts, 
 had not its common effects on him ; he had a true and primitive sense 
 of so great a charge ; and instead of aspiring to it, feared it ; and, re- 
 turning very slowly to England, used all his endeavours to be excused 
 from that advancement. Bulls were sent for to Rome, in order to his 
 consecration, which the pope granted, and on the 30th of March, Cran- 
 mef was consecrated by the bishops of Lincoln, Exeter, and St. Asaph. 
 The oath to the pope was of hard digestion to him. He therefore made 
 a protestation, before he took it, that he conceived himself not bound 
 by it in any thing that was contrary to his duty to God, to his king, or 
 to his country ; and this he repeated when he took it. 
 
 The King^s Marriage condemned by the Convocation. 
 
 The convocation had then two questions before them ; the first was, 
 concerning the lawfulness of the king's marriage, and the validity of 
 the pope's dispensation ; the other was, of a matter of fact, whether 
 Prince Arthur had consummated the marriage. For the first, the 
 judgments of nineteen universities were read ; and, after a long debate, 
 there being twenty-three only in the lower house, fourteen were against 
 the marriage, seven for it, and two voted dubiously. In the upper 
 house, Stokesly, bishop of London, and Fisher, maintained the debate 
 long ; the one for the affirmative, and the other the negative : at last 
 it was carried nemine contradicente, (the few that were of the other side 
 it seems withdrawing) against the marriage, 216 being present. The 
 other question was referred to the canonists ; and they all, except five 
 or six, reported that the presumptions were violent ; and these, in a 
 matter not capable of plain proof, were always received in law. 
 
 The convocation having thus judged in the matter, the ceremony 
 of pronouncing the divorce judicially was now only wanting. The new 
 queen being pregnant, was a great evidence of her having preserved 
 her chastity previously to her marriage. On Easter eve she was de- 
 clared queen of England ; and soon after, Cranmer, with Gardiner, 
 who had been made, upon Wolsey's death, bishop of Winchester, and 
 the bishops of London, Lincoln, Bath, and Wells, with many divines 
 and canonists, went to Dunstable ; Queen Catherine living then near 
 it, at Ampthill. The king and queen were cited ; he appeared by 
 proxy, but the queen refused to take any notice of the court : so after 
 three citations she was declared contumacious, and the merits of the 
 cause were examined. At last, on the 23d of May, sentence was 
 given, declaring the marriage to have been null from the beginning. 
 Coronation of Anne Boleyn. 
 
 Some days after this, another judgment was given, confirming the 
 king's marriage with Queen Anne, and on the first of June she was 
 crowned. All people admired her conduct, who, during so many years, 
 managed the spirit of so violent' a king in such a manner, as neither 
 to surfeit him with too many favours, nor to provoke him with too 
 much rigour. They that loved the reformation, looked for better 
 days under her protection ; but many priests and friars, both in ser- 
 mons and discourses, condemned the king's proceedings. Henry 
 sent ambassadors to the various ceurts of Europe, to justify what he 
 had done : he sent also to Queen Catherine, charging her to assume 
 no other title than that of princess dowager ; but to this she refused 
 
208 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 obedience, saying, she would not take that infamy on herself; and 
 so resolved that none should serve about her who did not treat her 
 as queen. 
 
 At Rome the cardinals of the imperial faction complained much of 
 the attempt made on the pope's power, and urged him to proceed to 
 censures. But there was only sentence given, annulling all that the 
 archbishop of Canterbury had done ; and the king was required, under 
 pain of excommunication, to place things again in the state in which 
 they formerly were ; and this notification was affixed at Dunkirk. 
 The king sent an embassy to the French monarch, who was then 
 setting out to Marseilles, to meet the pope ; their errand was to dis- 
 suade him from the journey, unless the pope promised Henry satis- 
 faction : Francis said, he was engaged in honour to go on ; but assu- 
 red them, he would mind the king's concerns with as much zeal as 
 if they were his own. 
 
 Birth of the Princess Elizabeth. 
 
 In September the queen brought forth a daughter, afterwards the 
 renowned Queen Elizabeth ; and the king having before declared 
 Lady Mary princess of Wales, did now the same for her : though, 
 since a son might exclude her from it, she could not be heir appa- 
 rent, but only heir presumptive to the crown. 
 
 The eventful moment was now at hand, when the incident should 
 take place that would cause the separation of England from the church 
 of Rome. There was a secret agreement between the pope and 
 Francis, that if King Henry would refer his cause to the consistory, ex- 
 cepting only the cardinals of the imperial faction, as partial, and would 
 in all other things return to his obedience to the see of Rome, the sen- 
 tence should be given in his favour. "When Francis returned to Paris, 
 he sent over the bishop of that city to the king, to tell what he had ob- 
 tained of the pope in his favour, and the terms on which it was promi- 
 sed ; this wrought so much on the king, that he presently consented to 
 them ; upon which, the bishop of Paris, though it was now in the mid- 
 dle of winter, went to Rome in consequence. Upon his arrival there, 
 the matter seemed agreed ; for it was promised, that upon the king's 
 sending a promise under his hand, to place things in their former 
 state, and his ordering a proxy to appear for him, judges should be 
 ffent to Cambray for making the process, and then sentence should be 
 given. Upon the notice given of this, and of a day fixed for the re- 
 turn of the courier, the king dispatched him with all possible haste : 
 and now the business seemed at an end. But the courier had the sea 
 and the Alps to pass, and in winter it was not easy to observe a limited 
 day so exactly. The appointed day came, and no courier arrived ; 
 upon which the imperialists gave out, that the king was abusing the 
 pope's easiness ; and pressed him vehemently to proceed to a sentence : 
 the bishop of Paris requested only a delay of six days. But the de- 
 sign of the imperialists was to hinder a reconciliation ; for if the king 
 had been set right Avith the pope, there would have been so powerful 
 a league formed against the emperor, as would have frustrated all his 
 measures : and therefore it was necessary for his politics to embroil 
 ihem. Seduced by the artifice of this intriguing prince, the pope, 
 contrary to his ordinary prudence, brought the matter before the con- 
 sistory ; and there the imperialists having the majority, it was driven 
 
PB OGRESS OP THE REFORMATION. 209 
 
 on with so much precipitation, that they did, in one day, that which, 
 according to form, should have occupied three. 
 
 They gave the final sentence, declared the king's marriage with 
 Queen Catherine good, and required him to live with her as his wife, 
 otherwise they would proceed to censures. Two days after this, the 
 courier came with the king's submission in due form ; he also brought 
 earnest letters from Francis in the king's favour. This wrought on all 
 the indifferent cardinals, as well as those of the French faction, so 
 much that they prayed the pope to recal what was done. A new 
 consistory was called ; but the imperialists urged, with greater vehe- 
 mence than ever, that they would not give such scandal to the world 
 as to recal a definitive sentence passed on the validity of a marriage, 
 and give the heretics such advantages by their unsteadiness in matters 
 "of that nature ; it was, therefore, carried, that the former sentence 
 should take place, and the execution of it committed to the emperor. 
 "When this was known in England, it determined the king in his reso- 
 lution of shaking off the papal yoke, in which he had made so great 
 a progress, that the parliament had passed all the acts concerning it, 
 before he received the nev/s from Rome ; for he judged, that the best 
 way to secure his cause was to let Rome see his power, and with what 
 vigour he could make war. 
 
 Arguments for rejecting the Pope's Power. 
 
 In England, the foundations on which the papal authority was built, 
 had been examined with extraordinary care of late years ; and several 
 books were written on that subject. It was demonstrated that all the 
 apostles were made equal in the powers that Chi-ist gave them, and 
 he often condemned their contests about superiority, but never de- 
 clared in Peter's favour. Paul withstood him to his face, and reckon- 
 ed himself not inferior to him. If the dignity of a person left any 
 authority with the city in which he sat, then Antioch must carry it as 
 well as Rome ; and Jerusalem, Avhere Christ suffered, was to be pre- 
 ferred to all the world, for it was truly the mother church. The other 
 privileges ascribed to Peter, were either only a precedence of order, 
 or were occasioned by his fall, as that injunction, " Feed my sheep," 
 it being a restoring him to the apostolical function. Peter had also a 
 limited province, the circumcision, as Paul had the uncircumcision, of 
 far greater extent ; which showed that Peter was not considered as the 
 universal pastor. 
 
 Several sees, as Ravenna, Milan, and Aquileia, pretended exe,mp- 
 tion from the papal authority. Many English bishops had asserted, 
 that the popes had no authority against the canons, and to that day no 
 canon the pope made was binding till it was received; which showed 
 the pope's authority was not believed to be founded on a divine au- 
 thority ; and the contests vi^hich the kings of England had had with 
 the popes concerning investitures, bishops doing homage, appeals to 
 Rome, and the authority of papal bulls and provisions, showed that 
 the pope's power was beUeved to be subject to laws and custom, and 
 so not derived from Christ and Peter ; and as laws had given them 
 some power, and princes had been forced, in ignorant ages, to submit 
 to their usurpations, so they might, as they saw cause, change those 
 laws, and resume their rights. 
 
 The next point inquired into was, the authority that kings had in 
 
 27 
 
210 ■' BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 matters of religion and the church. In the New TestamenI, Christ 
 was himself subject to the civil powers, and charged his disciples not 
 to affect temporal dominion. They also wrote to the churches to be 
 subject to the higher powers, and call them supreme, and charge every 
 soul to be subject to them ; so, in scripture, the king is called head 
 and supreme, and every soul is said to be under him, which, joined 
 together, makes up his conclusion, that he is the supreme head over 
 all persons. In the primitive church the bishops only made rules or 
 canons, but pretended to no compulsive authority but what came from 
 the civil magistrate. Upon the whole matter, they concluded, that 
 the pope had no power in England, and that the king had an entire do- 
 minion over all his subjects, which extended even to the regulation of 
 ecclesiastical matters. 
 
 These questions being fully discussed in many disputes, and pub- 
 lished in several books, all the bishops, abbots, and friars, of Eng- 
 land, Fisher only excepted, were so far satisfied with them, that they 
 resolved to comply with the changes the king was resolved to make. 
 
 The Papers Power rejected by Parliament. 
 
 At the next meeting of parliament, there were but seven bishops 
 and twelve abbots present, the rest being unwilling to concur in making 
 this change, though they complied with it when it was made. Every 
 Sunday during the session a bishop preached at St. Paul's, and de- 
 clared that the pope had no authority in England ; before this, they had 
 only said that a general council was above thrm, and that the exactions 
 of his court, and appeals to it, were unlawful ; but now they went a 
 strain higher, to prepare the people for receiving the acts then in agi- 
 tation. On the ninth of March, the commons began the bill for taking 
 away the pope's power, and sent it to the lords on the 14th, who pass- 
 ed it on the 20th without any dissent. In it they set forth the exac- 
 tions of the court of Rome, grounded on the pope's power of dispens- 
 ing ; and that as none could dispense with the laws of God, so the 
 king and parliament only had the authority of dispensing with the laws 
 of the land ; and that, therefore, such licenses or dispensations as were 
 formerly in use, should be for the future granted by the two arch- 
 bishops ; some of these were to be confirmed undier the great seal ; 
 and they appointed, that thereafter all intercourse with Rome, on those 
 subjects, should cease. They also declared, that they did not intend 
 to alter any article of the catholic faith of Christendom, or of that 
 which was declared in the scripture necessary to salvation. They 
 confirmed all the exemptions granted to monasteries by the popes, 
 but subjected them to the king's visitation, and gave the king and l\is 
 council power to examine and reform all indulgences and privileges 
 granted by the pope. This act subjected the monasteries entirely to 
 the king's authority, and put them in no small confusion. Those who 
 loved the reformation rejoiced both to see the pope's power rooted 
 out, and to find the scripture made the standard of religion. 
 
 After this act, another passed in both houses in six days time without 
 any opposition, settling the succession of the crown, confirming the 
 sentence of divorce, and the king's marriage with Queen Anne, and de- 
 claring all marriages within the degrees prohibited by Moses to be un- 
 lawful ; all that had married within them were appointed to be divorced, 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 211 
 
 and their issue illegitimated ; and the succession to the crown was 
 settled upon the king's issue by the present queen, or, in default of 
 that, to the king's right heirs forever. All were required to swear to 
 maintain the contents of this act ; and if any refused to swear to it, or 
 should say any thing to the slander of the Icing's marriage, he was to 
 be judged guilty of misprision of treason, and to be punished accord- 
 ingly. 
 
 About this time one Phillips complained to the house of commons 
 of the bishop of London for using him cruelly in prison upon suspicion 
 of heresy ; the commons sent up his petition to the lords, but received 
 no answer ; they therefore sent some of their members to the bishop, de- 
 siring him to answer the complaints put in against him ; but he ac- 
 quainted the house of lords with it ; and they with one consent voted 
 that none of their house ought to appear or answer to any complaint 
 at the bar of the house of commons. On which the commons let this 
 particular case fall, and sent up a bill, to which the lords agreed, re- 
 gulating the proceedings against heretics ; repealing the statute of 
 Henry IV. ; and declaring that none Avere to be committed for heresy 
 but upon a presentment made by two witnesses ; none were to be 
 accused for speaking agaiiisf, things that were groimded only upon the 
 pope's canons ; bail was to be taken for heretics, and they were to be 
 brought to trial in open court ; and if upon conviction they did not 
 abjure, or were relapses, they were to be burnt ; the king's writ being 
 first obtained. This was a great check to the bishops' tyranny and 
 gave great satisfaction to the friends of the reformation. 
 
 The convocation sent in a submission at the same time, by which 
 they acknowledged, that all the convocations ought to be assembled by 
 the king's writ ; and promised never to make nor execute any canons 
 without the king's assent. They also desired, that since many of the 
 received canons were found to be contrary to the king's prerogative 
 and the laws of the land there might be a committee named by the 
 king, of thirty-two, the one half out of both houses of parliament, and 
 the other of the clergy, empowered to abrogate or regulate them, as 
 they should see cause. This was confirmed in parliament ; the act 
 against appeals was renewed ; and an appeal was allowed from the 
 archbishop to the king, upon which the lord chancellor was to grant 
 a commission for a court of delegates. 
 
 Another act passed for regulating the elections and consecrations of 
 bishops, condemning all bulls from Rome, and appointing that upon a 
 vacancy the king should grant a license for an election, and should by 
 a missive letter signify the person's namt whom he would have cho- 
 sen ; and within twelve days after these \a ere delivered, the dean and 
 chapter, or prior and convent, were required to return an election of 
 the person named by the king, under theiv seals. The bishop elect 
 was upon that to swear fealty, and a writ was to be issued out for his 
 consecration in the usual manner ; after that he was to do homage to 
 the king, upon which both the temporalities and spiritualities were to 
 be restored, and bishops were to exercise th^ir jurisdictions as they 
 had done before. All who transgressed this act were made guilty of 
 a praemunire. 
 
 A private act passed, depriving cardinal Campegio and Jerome de 
 Gianuccii of the bishoprics of Salisbury and Worcester ; the reasons 
 given for it were, because they did not reside in their dioceses, for 
 
212 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 preaching the laws of God, and keeping hospitality, while they lived 
 at the court of Rome, and drew £3000 a year out of the kingdom. 
 
 The last act of a public nature, though relating ©nly to private per- 
 sons, was concerning the nun of Kent and her accomplices. It was 
 the first occasion of shedding any blood in this quarrel, and the im- 
 posture was much cherished by all the superstitious clergy who ad- 
 hered to the interests of the queen and the .pope. The nun, and many 
 of her accomplices, were brought to the bar of the house of lords, 
 where they confessed the whole matter. 
 
 Sir Thomas More and Bishop Fisher were charged with having con- 
 cealed their knowledge of the affair ; the former wrote a long letter 
 upon the subject to Cromwell, giving him a particular account of all 
 the conversations he had had with the nun : he acknowledged that he 
 had esteemed her highly, iiot so much out of any regard to her pro- 
 phecies, as for the opinion he conceived of her holiness and humility. 
 But he added, that " he was then convinced that she was the most . 
 false dissembling hypocrite that ever had been known, and guilty of 
 the most detestable hypocrisy and devilish dissembled falsehood :" 
 he also believed that she had communication with an evil spirit. 
 More's justification of his conduct prevailed so far, that his name was 
 struck out of the bill. 
 
 Story of the Nun of Kent. 
 
 Elizabeth Barton, of Kent, fell into hysterical fits, and spake such 
 things as made those about her think she was inspired by God. The 
 parson of the parish, named Master, hoping to draw advantages from 
 this, informed Archbishop Warham of it, who ordered him to watch her 
 carefully, and bring him an account of what he should observe. But 
 it seems that she forgot all she said in her fits when they were over. 
 But the artful priest would not suffer his hopes thus to pass away, but 
 persuaded her she was inspired, and taught her so to counterfeit those 
 trances, that she became very expert at it, and could assume them at 
 her pleasure. The matter was soon noised about ; and the priest in- 
 tended to raise the credit of an image of the blessed virgin, which 
 stood in his church, so that pilgrimages and offerings might be made 
 to it by her means. He accordingly associated to himself one Bock- 
 ing, a monk of Canterbury, and they taught the nun to say, in her fits, 
 that the blessed virgin appeared to her, and told her, she could not be 
 well till she visited that image. She spake many good words against 
 ill life, and also against heresy, and the king's suit of divorce then de- 
 pending ; and by many strange motions of her body, she seemed, to 
 the ignorant multitude of that age, to be inwardly possessed. 
 
 Soon after this, a day was appointed for her cure ; and before an as- 
 semblage of two thousand people, she was carried to the image ; and 
 after she had acted over her fits, she seemed- suddenly to recover, 
 which was ascribed to the intercession of the virgin, and the virtue of 
 her image. She then took the veil, and Bocking was her confessor. 
 
 Her popularity increased daily, and many thought her a prophetess, 
 among whom was Archbishop Warham himself. A book was also 
 written of her reA^elations, and a letter was shewn, all in letters of gold, 
 pretended to be written to her from heaven by Mary Magdalen ! She 
 said, that when the king was last at Calais, she was carried invisibly 
 beyond sea, and brought back again; and that an angel gave her the 
 
PROGRESS OP. THE REFORMATION. 213 
 
 sacrament ; and that God revealed to her, that if the king went on in 
 his divorce, and married another wife, he should fall from his crown, 
 and not live a month longer, but should die a villain's death. 
 
 Several monks of the Charter-house, and the observant friars, with 
 many nuns, and Bishop Fisher, gave credit to this, set a great value on 
 her, and grew very insolent upon it ; for Friar Feyto preaching in the 
 king's chapel at Greenwich, denounced the judgments of God upon 
 him ; and said, though others as lying prophets deceived him, yet he, 
 in the name of God, told him, that dogs should lick his blood, as they 
 had done Ahab's. The king bore this patiently, contenting himself 
 with ordering Dr. Corren to preach next Sunday, and to answer all 
 that he had said ; who railed against Peyto as a dog and a traitor. Pey- 
 to had gone to Canterbury; but Elston, a Franciscan of the same 
 house, interrupted him, and called him one of the lying prophets that 
 went about to establish the succession of the crown by adultery ; 
 and spoke with so much vehemence, that the king himself was forced 
 to command silence. So unwilling was the king to go to extremities, 
 that all that was done upon so high a provocation, was, that they were 
 summoned before the council, and rebuked for their insolence. But 
 the nun's confederates proceeding to publish her revelations in all parts 
 of the kingdom, she and nine of her accomplices were apprehended, 
 when they all, without any rack or torture, discovered the whole con- 
 spiracy. Upon this confession they were appointed to go to St. Paul's, 
 where, after a sermon preached by the bishop of Bangor, they repeated 
 their confession in the hearing of the people, and were sent as prison- 
 ers to the Tower. But it was given out that al4 was extorted from 
 them by violence, and messages were sent to the nun, desiring her to 
 deny all that she had confessed. The king, on this, judged it neces- 
 sary to proceed to further extremities : accordingly, she and six of her 
 chief accomplices were attainted of treason, and the bishop of Roches- 
 ter and five more were attainted of misprision of treason. But at the 
 intercession of Queen Anne, (as is expressed in the act,) all others that 
 had been concerned with her were pardoned. 
 
 After this, the nun and her coadjutors were executed at Tyburn. — 
 There she voluntarily confessed herself to be an impostor, and ac- 
 knowledged the justice of her sentence, laying the blame on these who 
 suffered with her, by v/hom she had been seduced into the crime; add- 
 ing, that they had exalted her for no other cause than for her having 
 been of great profit to them, and that, they had presumed to say, that 
 all she had done was through the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, when 
 they were sensible the whole was a trick. She then begged pardon of 
 God and the king, and resigned herself to her fate. 
 
 Had this fallen out in a darker age, the king might have lost his 
 crown by it. But at the present era, the discovery of it disposed men 
 to look on older stories of trances, &c. as contrivances to serve base 
 ends, and made way for the ruin of the monastic order in England; 
 but all that followed at present upon it was, that the observants were 
 put out of their houses, and mixed with the other Franciscans, and 
 the Austin friars were put in their room. 
 
 Upon the discovery of the above imposture, Cromwell sent Fisher's 
 brother to him to reprove him for his carriage in that business, and 
 to aavise mm to ask the king's pardon for the encouragement he had 
 given to the nun, which he was confident the king would grant him. 
 
214 ' BOOK ©F MARTYRS. 
 
 But Fisher excused himself, and said, he had only tried whether her 
 revelations were true or not. He confessed, that upon the reports he 
 had heard, he was induced to have a high opinion of her, and that he 
 had never discovered any falsehood in her. It was true she had said 
 some things to him concerning the king's death which he had not re- 
 vealed, but he thought it was not necessary to do it, because he knew 
 she had told them to the king herself; she had named no person that 
 should kill the king, but had only denounced it as a judgment of God 
 upon him ; and he had reason to think that the king would have been 
 offended with him, if he had spoken of it to him ; he therefore desired 
 to be no more troubled with the matter. But, upon that, Cromwell 
 wrote him a sharp letter, wherein he showed him that he had pro- 
 ceeded rashly in that affair; being so partial in the matter of the 
 king's divorce, that he easily believed every thing that seemed to 
 make against it ; he showed him how necessary it v/as to use great 
 caution before extraordinary things should be received, or spread 
 about as revelations, since otherwise the peace of the world would be 
 in the hands of every bold or crafty impostor ; yet, in conclusion, he 
 advised him again to ask the king's pardon for his rashness, and as- 
 sured him that the king was ready to forgive him. But Fisher would 
 make no submission, and was in consequence included in the act ; yet 
 it was not executed til] a new provocation drew him into farther trou- 
 ble. The secular and regular clergy did every where swear the oath 
 of succession, which none more zealously promoted than Gardiner, 
 who before the 6th of May prevailed on all his clergy to swear it : 
 and the religious orders being apprehensive of the king's jealousies of 
 them, took care to remove them by sending in declarations, under the 
 seals of their houses, that in their opinion the king's present marriage 
 was lawful, and that they would always acknowledge him head of the 
 church of England. 
 
 The council met at Lambeth, to which many were cited for the 
 purpose of taking the oath, among whom was Sir Thomas More and 
 Bishop Fisher. More was first called on to take it : he answered, that 
 he neither blamed those that made the acts, nor those that swore the 
 oath ; and that he was willing to swear to maintain the succession to 
 the crown, but could not take the oath as it was conceived. Fisher 
 made the same answer, but all the rest that were cited before them 
 took it. More was pressed to give his reasons against it ; but he re- 
 fused, for it might be called disputing against law, yet he would put 
 them into writing if the king would command him to do it. Cranmer 
 said, if he did not blame those that took it, it seems he was not per- 
 suaded it was a sin, and so was only doubtful of it ; but he was sure 
 he ought to obey the law, if it was not sinful ; so there was a certainty 
 on the one hand, and only a doubt on the other, and therefore the 
 former ought to determine him : this he confessed did shake him a lit- 
 tle, but he said he thought in his conscience that it would be a sin to 
 comply. In conclusion, both he and Fisher declared that they 
 thought it was in the power of the parliament to settle the succession 
 to the crown, and so Avere ready to swear to that ; but they could not 
 take the oath that was tendered to them, for by it they must swear 
 that the king's former marriage was unlawful, to which they could not 
 assent ; so they were both committed to the tower, and denied the use 
 of pen, ink, and paper. The old bishop was also hardly used both in 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 215 
 
 his clothes and diet ; he had only rags to cover him, and fire was of- 
 ten denied him ; a cruelty not capable of excuse, and as barbarous as 
 it was unaeserved. 
 
 In the winter, parliament met again, and the first act that passed 
 declared the king to be the supreme head on earth of the church of 
 England, which was ordered to be prefixed to his other titles ; and it 
 was enacted, that he and his successors should have full authority to 
 reform all heresies and abuses in the spiritual jurisdiction. By ano- 
 ther act the parliament confirmed the oath of succession, which had not 
 been specified in the former act, though agreed to by the lords. They 
 also gave the king the first fruits and tenths of ecclesiastical bene- 
 fices, as being the supreme head of the church. Another act passed, 
 declaring some things treason; one of these was the denying the 
 king any of his titles, or the calling him heretic, schismatic, or usur- 
 per of the crown. By another act, provision was made for setting up 
 twenty-six suftragan bishops over England, foi^ the more speedy ad- 
 ministration of the sacraments, and the better service of God. The 
 bishop of the diocese was to present two to the king, and upon the 
 king's declaring his choice, the archbishop was to consecrate the per- 
 son, and then the bishop was to delegate such parts of his charge to 
 his care as he thought fitting, during his pleasure. The great extent 
 of the dioceses in England, made it hard for one bishop to govern 
 them with that exactness that was necessary ; these were therefore 
 appointed to assist in the discharge of the pastoral functions. 
 
 Bishop Fisher and Sir Thomas More, by two special acts, were at- 
 tainted of misprision of treason ; five other clerks were in like manner 
 condemned, all for refusing to swear the oath of succession. The see 
 of Rochester was declared void ; and continued vacant two years. 
 
 But now a new scene commenced ; before Wc enter upon which, 
 it will be necessary to state the progress that the new opinions had 
 made in England during the king's suit of divorce. Under Wolsey's 
 ministry, the reformed preachers were gently used ; and it is proba- 
 ble the king ordered the bishops to cease inquiring after them, when 
 the pope began to use him ill ; for the progress of heresy was always 
 reckoned at Rome among the mischiefs that would follow upon the 
 pope's rejecting the king's suit. But Sir Thomas More, coming into 
 favour, oflifered new counsels, and thought the king's proceeding se- 
 verely against heretics would be so meritorious at Rome, that it would 
 work more efiectually than all his threatenings had done. .Upon this, 
 a severe proclamation was issued out, both against their books and 
 persons, ordering all the laws against them to be put in execution. 
 
 Translation of the New Testament into English. 
 
 Tindal and others at Antwerp were every year either translating 
 or writing books against some of the received errors, and sending 
 them over to England. But the translation of the New Testament, 
 by Tindal, gave the greatest offence, and was much complained of 
 by the clergy, as full of errors. Toustall, then bishop of London, 
 returning from Cambray, to which place More and he had been sent 
 by the king, as he came through Antwerp, bargained with an English 
 merchant, who was secretly a friend of Tindal, to procure him as 
 many of his New Testaments as could be had for money. Tindal 
 gladly received this ; for being about a more correct edition, he 
 
216 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 found he would be better enabled to proceed, if the copies of the old 
 were sold oif ; he therefore gave the merchant all he had, and Ton- 
 stall, paying- for them, brought them over to England, and burnt them 
 publicly in Cheapside. This was called a burning of the word of 
 God ; and it was said the clergy had reason to revenge themselves 
 on it, for it had done them more mischief than all other books what- 
 soever. But a 3^ear after this, the second edition being finished, great 
 numbers were sent over to England, when Constantine, one of Tin- 
 dal's partners, happened to be taken : believing that some of the Lon- 
 don merchants furnished them with money, he was promised his 
 liberty if he would discover who they were ; upon this he said the 
 bishop of London did more than all the world besides, for he bought 
 up the greatest part of a faulty impression. The clergy, on their con- 
 demning TindaFs translation, promised a new one : but a year after, 
 they said, that it was not necessary to publish the scriptures in Eng- 
 lish, and that the king did well not to set about it. 
 
 About this time, a book, written by Fish, of Gray's Inn, was pub- 
 lished. It was entitled, "The Supplication of the Beggars," and 
 had a vast sale. In it, the beggars were made to complain, that the 
 alms of the people were intercepted by mendicant friars, who were a 
 useless burden to the government ; and to tax the pope with cruelty 
 for taking no pity on the poor, since none but those who could pay for 
 it, were delivered out of purgatory. The king was so pleased with 
 this, that he would not suffer any thing to be done against the author. 
 Sir Thomas Mere answered it by another supplication in behalf of the 
 souls in purgatory, setting forth the miseries they were in, and the 
 relief which they received by the masses that were said for them ; 
 and therefore they called upon their friends to support the religious- 
 orders, which had now so many enemies. 
 
 Frith published a serious answer to the last mentioned work, in 
 which he showed that there was no mention made of purgatory in 
 scripture ; that it was inconsistent with the merits of Christ, by 
 which, upon sincere repentance, all sins were pardoned ; for if they 
 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 learning 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 rather 
 thought a good disposition for men that were to bear a cross, and the 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. £17 
 
 glory of God appeared more eminently when the instruments seemed 
 contemptible. 
 
 But the pen being thought too feeble and gentle, the clergy betook 
 themselves to persecution. Many were vexed with imprisonments 
 for teaching their children 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 Martyrdovi of Thomas Bilney. 
 
 Thomas Bilney was brought up at Cambridge from a child. On 
 leaving the university, he preached in several 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 Wolsey, 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 soids to him in 
 the sacrament. He openly confessed his own sin of denying the faith ; 
 and using no precaution as he went dbout, 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 sbalt 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 
 
 28 
 
218 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 Held up his hands, and struck his breast, crying sometimes " Jesus ; 
 sometimes " Credo !" but the flame was blown away from him seve 
 ral times, the wind being very high, till at length the wood taking fire, 
 the flame was stronger, and so he yielded up the ghost. 
 
 His body being shrunk up, leaned down on the chain, till one of the 
 oflSlcers, 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 sufierings, the confession, and the heroic death of this martyr, 
 inspirited and animated others to imitate his conduct. 
 
 Byficld 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 wrought 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 Avas 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, he 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, M^hich could not be jus- 
 tified, since the deceased was not a relapse. Tracy's heir sued him for 
 it, and he was turned out of his place, and fined 40CZ. 
 
 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 would take some occasion to show his hatred of heresy 
 
 ♦ We shall not be surprised at the r anger, if we consider, 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 agaijiSt him on the same grounds as Demetrius the sil- 
 versmith did against Pa\il at Ephef a.<5 — they feared that " their craft was in danger ' 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 219 
 
 Accordingly a young man named Frith was chosen as a sacrifice to 
 this affected zeal for religion. 
 
 Story and Martyrdom of Frith. 
 
 He was a young man much famed for his learning, and was the 
 first who wrote 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 aflSrming 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 affairs obliged him to unite himself to the princes of Ger- 
 many, that, by their means, he might so embroil the emperor's affairs, 
 as not to give him leisure to turn his arms against Engl&nd ; 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 reformaiion, 
 and that he might cairy it on with true judgment, and '/ustify it by 
 good authorities, he jiade a good coll'^'ction of the opmions of the 
 ancient fathers, and 'ater doctors, in a'i the points of religion, com- 
 prising six folio vf /lumes. He was a man of great candour, and 
 much patience and industry; and sr- was on all accrunts well pre- 
 pared for that worP., to which the providence of God now called him ; 
 and though he was in some things too much subjfct to the king's 
 imperious temper, yet in the maUer of the six articles, he showed 
 that he wanted not the courage thf.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 v/as 
 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 
 change 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 themgelves 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 for 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. 221 
 
 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 all 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 was 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 efiects 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 effectually 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 1 If they performed divine wor- 
 ship at the appointed hours ? What exemptions they had ? What were 
 their statutes ? How their superiors were chosen ? Whether they lived 
 according to the severities of their orders t 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 hoAv 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 ? 
 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 iost. 
 
 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 Vv^ould 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 with, " 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 he pleased, which were in all three hundred and seventy. This 
 parliament, 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, which 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 opi- 
 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 Bible 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 iin- 
 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 14,000Z. 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 unfa- 
 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 now 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 Smeton, 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 fcfiees, 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 affliction 
 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- 
 
 I 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 235 
 
 fore he 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 25th Edward III. It does not appear Avhat 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 Avhether this declaration were real or a forgery, must 
 be very doubtful. 
 
 The earl of Northumberland was one cf 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, Avhich 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 wrought 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 between them. Upon her own 
 confession, however, her marriage with the king was judged null from 
 the beginning, and she was condemned, although nothing could be 
 more contradictory ; for if she was never the king's wife, she could 
 not be guilty of adultery, there being no breach of the faith of wedlock, 
 if they were never truly married. But the king was resolved both 
 to be rid of her, and to illegitimatize 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, and, 
 thanking him for his advancing her first to be a marchioness, then a 
 queen, and now, when he could raise her no higher on earth, for send- 
 ing her to be a saint in heaven. The lieutenant of the tower wrote 
 
 39 
 
326 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 to Cromwell, tnat it was not fit to publish the time of her execution, 
 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 with 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 Avere 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 treatm_ent 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 her 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 proposes 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 prsemunire 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 flowing 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 
 thi archbishop was to make a new grant to them, which, being con- 
 fimied 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 matter, and his 
 zeal in expressing it, being preferred to more elaborate compositions. 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 227 
 
 The convocation first confirmed the sentence of divorce between the 
 king and Queen Anne. Then the lower house made an address to 
 the upper house, complaining of sixty-seven opinions, which they 
 found 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 many of them were only indiscreet expressions, which 
 might have flowed from the heat and folly of some rash zealots, Avho 
 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 ihe truth but by resting on the authority of 
 the scriptures. Fox, bishop of Hereford, seconded him, and told 
 them that the world 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, Goodrick, 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. 
 
 1. That the bishops and preachers ought to instruct the people ac- 
 cording to the scriptures, the three creeds, and the first four general 
 coimcils. 
 
 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 cciemonies, 
 
238 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 the people were to be taught, 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 the image, but only God. 2. 
 That they were 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, with 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 imcertain, 
 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 diffierences 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. 
 
 0» the publication of these things, the favourers of the reformation, 
 though they did not approve of every particular, yet were well pleased 
 to see things brought under examination : and since some things 
 were at this time changed, they did not dovibt 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 of 
 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 other hand, 
 were sorry to see four sacraments passed over in silence, and the 
 trade in masses for the dead put down. 
 
 At the same time other things were in consultation, though not 
 finished. Cranmer offered a paper to the king, exhorting him to pro- 
 ceed to further reformation, and that nothing should be determined 
 without clear proofs from scripture, the departing from which had 
 been the occasion of all the errors that had been in the church. 
 Many things were now acknowledged to be erroneous, for which 
 some, not long before, had suffered death. He therefore proposed 
 several points to be discussed, as, Whether there were a purgatory ? 
 Whether departed saints ought to be invocated, or tradition to be be- 
 lieved? Whether images ought to be considered only as representa- 
 tions in history? and, Whether it was lawful 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 that 
 period. 
 
 At this time visiters were appointed to survey all the lesser monas- 
 teries : they were to examine the state of their revenues and goods, 
 and take inventories of them, and to take their seals into thieir 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 thfe 
 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 country 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 been 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 Avere 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 poTjgir, 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- 
 ments in English, and to explain these carefully, and instruct the 
 children well in them. They were to perform the divine offices 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, 
 by law, and the heads of them had under their hands confessed such 
 horrid scandals, that they were 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 the 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 
 the earl of Cumberland made it good against them : Sir Ralph Evers 
 held out Scarborough 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 ma(i^ead ; and the king sent several 
 of the nobility to his assistance, arm within a few days the duke of 
 Norfolk mai-ched 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 
 was 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 to do so. The duke of Norfolk resolved, therefore, to keep 
 close at Doncaster, and let the provision* and courage of his adversa- 
 
PROGRESS OP THE REFORMATION. £31 
 
 ries melt away in inaction. They were now reduced to 10,000, but 
 the king's army was 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 name, 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 and 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 sio-n 
 a confession of their vices and djjorders, in which 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^ to better uses, for preaching, 
 study, and prayer ; arwi Latimer 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. 
 
 thought that these resignations could not be valid, since the incum- 
 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 with the surrender of their 
 houses ; the abbots of Whalley, Jervaux, Sawley, 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 tne king's supre- 
 macy ; others, suspected of favouring them, and of receiving books 
 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 
 use, and had been guilty of various enormities under the pretext of 
 discharging 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 th^ fault of some indi 
 viduals ; therefore another way 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 w^onderful images, to which pilgrimages had been made. At 
 Reading was 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 drawn many pilgrims to it, on account of its possessing the 
 wonderful powers of bowing its head, rolling its eyes, smiling, and 
 frowning, 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 towards the pilgrim, as the priests were satisfied or not 
 with his oblations. Several other similar impostures were discovered, 
 which contributed much to the undegeiving of the people. 
 
 The rich shrine of Thomas h. Becwet at Canterbury was destroyed, 
 and an immense quantity of gold and precious stones, ofi'ered 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 make war 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 233 
 
 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 the 
 Bible into English being noAV completed, it was printed, and ordered 
 to be read in all churches, with permission for every person to read 
 it, who might be so disposed. 
 
 But, notwithstanding the king's disagreement with the pope on many 
 subjects, there was one point on which they were s.like — they were 
 both intolerant, furious bigots ; and while the former was , excommu- 
 nicated as an heretic, he was himself equally zealous in rooting out 
 heresy, and burning all who presumed to depart from the standard of 
 faith which he had established. 
 
 Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, strengthened this disposition of the 
 king, and persuaded him, under the pretext of a zeal for religion, to 
 persecute the Sacramentarists, or those who denied the corporeal pre- 
 sence in the sacrament. 
 
 Martyrdom of John Lambert. 
 
 In consequence of this determination, John Lambert, a teacher of 
 languages in London, who had drawn up ten arguments against the 
 tenets of Dr. Taylor, on the above subject, as delivered in a sermon 
 at St. Peter's church, and presented them to the Doctor, was brought 
 before the archbishops court to defend his writings : and, having ap- 
 pealed to the king, the royal theologian, who was proud of every oc- 
 casion of displaying his talents and Learning, resolved to hear him in 
 person. He thereforie issued a commission, ordering all his nobility 
 and bishops to repair to London, to assist him against heretics. 
 
 A day was appointed for the disputation, when a great number of 
 persons of all ranks assembled to witness the proceedings, and Lam- 
 bert was brought from his prison by a guard, and placed directly op- 
 posite to the king. 
 
 Henry being seated on his throne, and surrounded by the p^'fs, 
 bishops, and judges, regarded the prisoner with a stern countenance, 
 and then commanded Day, bishop of Chichester, to state the occasion 
 of the present assembly. 
 
 The bishop made a long oration, stating that, although the king had 
 abolished the papal authority in England, it was not to be supposed 
 that he would allow heretics with impunity to disturb and trouble the 
 church of which he was the head. He had therefore determined to 
 pimish all schismatics ; and being willing to have the advice of his 
 bishops and counsellors on so great an occasion, had assembled them 
 to hear the arguments in the present case. 
 
 The oration being concluded, the king ordered Lambert to declai-e 
 his opinion as to the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, which he did, by 
 denying it to be the body of Christ. 
 
 The king then commanded Cranmer to refute his assertion, which 
 the latter attempted ; but was interrupted by Gardiner, who vehe- 
 mently interposed, and, being unable to bring argument to his aid, 
 sought by abuse and virulence to overpower his antagonist, who was 
 not allowed to answer the taunts and insults of the bishop. 
 
 Tonstal and Stokesly followed in the same course, and Lambert 
 beginning to answer them, was silenced by the king. The other bishops 
 
 30 
 
234 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 then each made a speech in confutation of one of Lambert's arguments, 
 till the whole ten were answered, or rather, railed against : for he was 
 not permitted to defend them, however misrepresented. 
 
 At last, when the day was passed, and torches began to be lighted, 
 the king desiring to break up this pretended disputation, said to Lam- 
 bert, "What sayest thou now, after all these great labours which 
 thou hast taken upon thee, and all the reasons and instructions of 
 these learned men ? Art thou not yet satisfied ? Wilt thou live or die ? 
 What sayest thou ? Thou hast yet free choice." 
 
 Lambert answered, " I yield and submit myself wholly unto the will 
 of your majesty." " Then," said the king, " commit thyself unto the 
 hands of God, and not unto mine." 
 
 Lambert replied, " I commend my soul unto the hands of God, but 
 my body I wholly yield and submit unto your clemency," To which 
 the king answered, " If you do commit yourself unto my judgment, 
 you must die, for I will not be a patron unto heretics ;" and, turning 
 to Cromwell, he said, " Read the sentence of condemnation against 
 him," which he accordingly did. 
 
 Upon the day appointed for this holy martyr to suffer, he was 
 brought out of the prison at eight o'clock in the morning to the house 
 of Cromwell, and carried into his inner chamber, where, it is said, 
 Cromwell desired his forgiveness for what he had done. Lambert be- 
 ing at last admonished that the hour of his death was at hand, and be- 
 ing brought out of the chamber, into the hall, saluted the gentlemen 
 present, and sat down to breakfast with them, showing neither sadness 
 nor fear. When breakfast was ended, he was carried straight to the 
 place of execution at Smithfield. 
 
 The manner of his death was dreadful ; for after his legs were con- 
 sumed and burned up to the stumps, and but a small fire was left un- 
 der him, two of the inhuman monsters who stood on each side of him, 
 pierced him with their halberts, and lifted him up as far as the chain 
 would reach, while he, raising his half consumed hands, cried untc 
 the people in these words : " None but Christ, none but Christ;" anc 
 so being let down again from their halberts, fell into the fire and there 
 ended his life. 
 
 The popish party greatly triumphed at this event, and endeavoured 
 to improve it. They persuaded the king of the good effects it would 
 have on his people, who would in this see his zeal for the faith ; and 
 they forgot not to magnify all that he had said, as if it had been utter- 
 ,. ed by an oracle, which proved him to be both " Defender of the Faith, 
 and Supreme Head of the Church." All this wrought so much on the 
 king, that he resolved to call a parliament for the contradictory pur- 
 poses of suppressing the still remaining monasteries, and extirpating 
 the " new opinions." 
 
 The Act of the Six Articles. 
 
 The parliament accordingly met on the 28th of April,' 1538 ; and 
 after long debates, passed what was called " a bill of religion," con- 
 taining six articles, by which it was declared, that the elements in the 
 sacrament were the real body and blood of Christ ; that communion 
 was necessary only in one kind ; that priests ought not to marry ; that 
 vows of chastity ought to be observed ; that private masses were law- 
 ful and useful ; and that auricular confession was necessary. 
 
PROGRESS OP THE REFORMATKX*. 235 
 
 This aci gave great satisfaction to the popish party, and induced 
 them to consent more readily to the act for suppressing the monaste- 
 ries, which immediately followed ; by virtue of which, their total dis- 
 solution soon after took place. The king founded six new bishoprics 
 from a small portion of their immense revenues, and lavished the re- 
 mainder on his profligate courtiers and favourites. 
 
 In 1 540 a bill was passed for the suppression of the knights of St. 
 John of Jerusalem, both in England and Ireland. 
 
 Fall of Cromwell. 
 
 In this year also, Cromwell, who had so long been a favourite of the 
 king, and had held the highest offices, Avas suddenly disgraced, and 
 committed to the tower. He had many enemies ; the nobility, from 
 jealousy at beholding a man of obscure birth promoted to the peerage, 
 and enjoying great power and influence ; and the popish clergy, from 
 the belief that the suppression of the monasteries and the innovations 
 on their religion were principally produced by his counsels. The 
 fickle tyrant whom he had so long and faithfully served, was also dis- 
 pleased with him as the adviser of his marriage with Anne of Cleves, 
 whom he was now anxious to get rid of, in order to obtain the hand 
 of Catherine Howard, niece of the duke of Norfolk. He suspected 
 him, likewise, of secretly encouraging an opposition to the six arti- 
 cles, and hoped, by sacrificing a man who was obnoxious to the 
 catholics, to regain their affections, forfeited by his sanguinary and 
 rapacious proceedings. 
 
 Cromwell experienced the common fate of fallen ministers ; his pre- 
 tended friends forsook him, and his enemies pursued their revenge 
 against him without opposition, except from Cranmer, Avho, with a 
 rare fidelity, dared to avow an attachment to him, even at this time, 
 and wrote a very earnest letter to the king in his favour. But Henry 
 was not easily turned from his purpose, and being resolved on the 
 ruin of Cromwell, was not to be dissuaded from his design. 
 
 In the house of lords a bill of attainder was passed with the most 
 indecent haste ; but in the commons it met with opposition, and after 
 a delay of ten days, a new bill was framed, and sent up to Ihe lords, in 
 which Cromwell was designated as " the most corrupt traitor ever 
 known ;" his treasons, as afterwards specified, consisting in the coun- 
 tenance and favour he had shown to the reformers. On these grounds 
 he was attainted both for treason and heresy. 
 
 The king now proceeded with his divorce ; and, although there was 
 no reason to dispute the legality of his marriage with Anne of Cleves, 
 still, as she was disagreeable to his royal taste, his sycophants were 
 too well taught to offer the least opposition to his wishes. The con- 
 vocation unanimously dissolved the marriage, and gave him liberty to 
 marry again ; indeed it is probable that if he had desired to have two 
 or more wives at once, the measure would have been sanctioned, so 
 base and servile were the courtiers and priests by whom this mon- 
 strous tyrant was surrounded. The queen continued to reside in 
 England, being declared " the adopted sister" of the king, and having 
 a pension of £4000 per annum. 
 
 Cromwell was executed on the 28th of July, and his fall gave a great 
 check to the reformation in England ; Cranmer being left almost alone 
 to struggle against a host of enemies. 
 
236 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 The bishops now published a new "book of religion," in Which they 
 settled the standard of the national faith ; and although the reformers 
 were justly dissatisfied with many parts of it, yet with other parts they 
 saw more reason to be content : many superstitious practices were 
 condemned in it, and the gospel covenant wa,s rightly stated ; every 
 national church was also declared to be a complete body in itself, 
 with power to reform heresies, and do every thing necessary for the 
 preservation of itsi purity, and the government of its members. 
 
 The clergy now, elated by the victory which they had gained by 
 the death of Cromwell, persuaded the king to new severities against 
 the reformers ; and several distinguished preachers were called to 
 suffer death in consequence of the violent animosities of the friends 
 to the papal cause. 
 
 Martyrdom of Dr. Robert Barnes. 
 
 Dr. Barnes was educated in the university of Louvain, in Brabant. 
 On his return to England he went to Cambridge, where he was made 
 prior and master of the house of the Augustines. The darkest igno- 
 rance pervaded the university, at the time of his arrival there ; but 
 he, zealous to promote knowledge and truth, began to ins,truct the 
 students in the classical languages, and with the assistance of Parnel, 
 his schoTar, whom he had brought from Louvain, soon caused learn- 
 ing to flourish, and the university to bear a very difierent aspect. 
 
 These foundations being laid, he began to read openly the epistles 
 of St. Paul, and to teach in greater purity the doctrine of Christ. He 
 preached and disputed with great warmth against the luxuries of the 
 higher clergy, particularly against Cardinal Wolsey, and the lamenta- 
 ble hypocrisy of the times. But still he remained ignorant of the 
 great cause of these evils, namely, the idolatry and superstition of the 
 church ; and while he declaimed against the stream, he himself drank 
 at the spring, and bowed down to idols. At length, happily becoming 
 acquainted with Bilney, he was by that martyr wholly converted unto 
 Christ. 
 
 The first sermon he preached of this truth was on the Sunday be- 
 fore Christmas-day, at St. Edward's church, in Cambridge. His 
 theme was the epistle of the same Sunday, " Gaudete in Domino" 
 &c. For this sermon he was immediately accused of heresy by two 
 fellows of King's Hall, before the vice-chancellor. Then Dr. Notto- 
 ris, a bitter enemy to Christ, moved Barnes to recant ; but he refused, 
 as appears in his book, which he wrote to King Henry in English, 
 confuting the judgment of Cardinal Wolsey, and the residue of the 
 papistical bishops. 
 
 After preaching some time, Barnes was arrested openly in the con- 
 vocation-house ; brought to London, and the next morning carried 
 to thp palace of Cardinal Wolsey, at Westminster, where, after wait- 
 ing the whole day, he was at night brought before the cardinal in his 
 chamber of state. " Is this," said Wolsey, " Dr. Barnes, who is 
 accused of heresy ?" — " Yes, and please your grace," replied the car- 
 dinal's secretary, " and I trust you will find him reformable, for he 
 is learned and wise." 
 
 " What, Mr. Doctor," said Wolsey, " had you not a sufficient scope 
 in the scriptures to teach the people, but that my golden shoes, my 
 poll-axes, my pillars, my golden cushions, my crosses, did so sore of- 
 
PROGRESS OP THE REFORMATION. 237' 
 
 fend you, that you must make us ridiculum caput amongst the people^ 
 who that day laughed us to scorn ? Verily it was a sermon fitter to 
 be preached on a stage than in a pulpit ; for at last you said, ' I wear 
 a pair of red gloves, I should say bloody gloves,' quoth you^ ' that I 
 should not be cold in the midst of my ceremonies.' " 
 
 Dr. Barnes answered, " I spake nothing but the truth, out of the 
 scriptures, according to my conscience, and according to the old doc- 
 tors." And then he delivered him six sheets of paper written, to con- 
 firm and corroborate his sentiments. 
 
 The cardinal received them smiling, saying, " We perceive then 
 that you intend to stand to your articles, and to show your learning.' 
 
 *' Yea," said Barnes, " that I do by God's grace, with your lord- 
 ship's favour." 
 
 He answered, " Such as you bear us little favour, and the catholic 
 church. I will ask you a question ; whether do you think it more ne- 
 cessary that I should have all this royalty, because I represent the 
 king's majesty in all the high courts of this realm, to the terror and 
 keeping down of all rebellious treasons, traitors, all the wicked and 
 corrupt members of this commonwealth, or to be as simple as you 
 would have us, to sell all these things, and to give them to the poor, 
 who shortly will cast them in the dirt ; and to pull away this princely 
 dignity, which is a terror to the wicked, and to follow your counsel ?" 
 
 " I think it necessary," said Barnes, " to be sold and given to the 
 poor. For this is not becoming your calling, nor is the king's majesty 
 maintained by your pomp and poll-boxes, but by God, who saith, 
 kings and their majesty reign and stand by me." 
 
 Then answered the cardinal, " Lo, master doctors, here is the 
 learned wise man that you told me of." Then they kneeled down, 
 and said, " We desire your grace to be good unto him, for he will be 
 reformable." 
 
 " Then," said he, " stand you up ; for your sakes and the univer- 
 sity we will be good unto him. How say you, master doctor, do you 
 not know that I am able to dispense in all matters concerning religion 
 within this realm, as much as the pope may ?" He said, " I know it 
 to be so." 
 
 " Will you then be ruled by us ? and we will do all things for your 
 honesty, and for the honesty of the university." 
 
 He answered, " I thank your grace for your good will ; I will stick 
 to the holy scriptures, and to God's book, according to the simple talent 
 that God hath lent me." 
 
 " Well," said he, " thou shalt have thy learning tried at the utter- 
 most, and thou shalt have the law." 
 
 He was then Committed to the custody of the sergeant at arms who 
 had brought him to London, and by whom he was the next morning 
 brought before the bishops ; who, on examining the articles of hig 
 faith, which he had delivered to the cardinal, asked him if he would 
 sign them, which he did, and was thereupon committed to the Fleet. 
 
 On the Saturday following he was again brought before the bishops, 
 who called upon him to know whether he would abjure or burn. He 
 was then greatly agitated, and felt inclined rather to burn than ab- 
 jure ; but was persuaded by some persons to abjure, which he at 
 length consented to do, and the abjuration being, put into his hand, he 
 abjured as it was there written, and then he subscribed it with his own 
 
238 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 hand ; yet his judges would scarcely receive him into the bosom ot 
 the church, as they termed it. Then they put him to an oath, and 
 charged him to do all that they commanded him, which he accord- 
 ingly promised. 
 
 He was then again committed to the Fleet, and the next morning 
 Was brought to St. Paul's church, with five others who had abjured. 
 Here the cardinal, bishops, and clergy, being assembled in great pomp, 
 the bishop of Rochester preached a sermon against the doctrines of 
 Luther and Barnes, during which the latter was commanded to kneel 
 down and ask forgiveness of God, and the catholic church, and the 
 cardinal's grace ; after which he was ordered, at the end of the ser- 
 mon, to declare that he was used more charitably than he deserved, 
 his heresies being so horrible, and so detestable ; once more he kneel- 
 ed, desiring of the people forgiveness, and to pray for him. This 
 farce being ended, the cardinal departed under a canopy, with the 
 bishops and mitred abbots, who accompanied him to the outer gate of 
 the church, when they returned. Then Barnes, and the others who 
 had abjured, were carried thrice about the fire, after which they were 
 brought to the bishops, and kneeled down for absolution. The bishop 
 of Rochester standing up, declared that Dr. Barnes, with the others, 
 were received into the church again. After which they were recom- 
 mitted to the Fleet during the cardinal's pleasure. 
 
 Dr. Barnes having remained in the Fleet half a year, was placed 
 in the custody of the Austin Friars in London ; from whence he was 
 removed to the Austin Friars of Northampton, there to be burned ; 
 of which intention, however, he was perfectly ignorant. Being in- 
 formed of the base design of his enemies, however, he, by a strata- 
 gem, escaped, and reached Antwerp, where he dwelt in "safety, and 
 was honoured with the friendship of the best, and most eminent re- 
 formers of the time, as Luther, Melancthon, the duke of Saxony, and 
 others. Indeed, so great was his reputation, that the king of Den- 
 mark sent him as one of his ambassadors to England ; when Sir 
 Thomas More, at that time lord chancellor, wished to have him ap- 
 prehended on the former charge. Henry, however, would not allow 
 of this, -considering it as a breach of the most sacred laws, to offer 
 violence to the person of an ambassador, under any pretence. Barnes, 
 therefore, remained in England unmolested, and departed again with- 
 out restraint. He returned to Wittemberg, where he remained to 
 forward his works in print which he had begun, after which he re- 
 turned again to England, and continued a faithful preacher in Lon- 
 don, being well entertained and promoted during the ascendancy of 
 Anne Boleyn. He was afterwards sent ambassador by Henry to the 
 duke of Cleves, upon the business of the marriage between Anne of 
 Cleves and the king ; and gave great satisfaction in every duty which 
 was intrusted to him. 
 
 Not long after the arrival of Gardiner from France, Dr. Barnes, 
 and other reformed preachers, were apprehended, and carried before 
 the king at Hampton Court, where Barnes was examined. The king 
 being desirous to bring about an agreement betM^een him and Gar- 
 diner, granted him leave to go home with the bishop to confer with 
 him. But they not agreeing, Gardiner and his party sought to en- 
 tangle and entrap Barnes and his friends in further danger, which, 
 not long after, was brought to pass. For, by certain complaints mad« 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 239 
 
 to the kiug of them, they were enjoined to preach three sermons the 
 following Easter at the Spittle ; at which sermons, besides other re- 
 porters which were sent thither, Stephen Gardiner also was there pre- 
 sent, sitting with the mayor, either to bear record of their recantation, 
 or else, as the Pharisees came to Christ, to ensnare them in their talk, 
 if they should speak any thing amiss. Barnes preached first ; and at 
 .the conclusion of his sermon, requested Gardiner, if he thought he 
 had said nothing contradictory to truth, to hold up his hand in the 
 face of all present ; upon which Gardiner immediately held up his 
 finger. Notwithstanding this, they were all three sent for to Hamp- 
 ton Court, whence they were conducted to the tower, where they re- 
 mained till they were brought out to death. 
 
 Execution of Queen Catherine Howard. 
 
 The king was greatly delighted with the charms of Catherine 
 Howard, his fifth wife, and even gave public thanks to God for the 
 excellent choice he had made. But his opinion was soon altered, and 
 not without reason ; for she was convicted on the clearest evidence, 
 and by her own confession, of gross lewdness and debauchery, with 
 several persons ; and was beheaded, with Lady Rochford, her principal 
 accomplice and confidant, February 14th, 1541. The latter, it will 
 be recollected, was the chief instrument in the destruction of Anne 
 Boleyn, and her fate was considered as a divine judgment on her base- 
 ness and falsehood to thatinjuKed queen. 
 
 The king, exasperated by the disappointment of his hopes, pro- 
 cured an attainder against the parents and relatives of Catherine, for 
 not informing him of what they, perhaps, were themselves ignorant 
 of; and it was made treason to conceal any matter of the kind from 
 the king in future, as well on the part of relatives and other persons, 
 as by the lady herself, whom he might intend to honour with his hand. 
 The barbarous severity and injustice of these acts was felt, but durst 
 not be murmured against, so absolute a tyranny had Henry establish- 
 ed in his kingdom. After remaining a widower about two years, he 
 contracted a sixth marriage with Catherine Parr, widow of Lord Lati- 
 mer, who was in secret a friend to the reformation, but, dreading the 
 fate of her predecessors, dissembled her partiality for the true faith. 
 
 Attempts to Suppress the Bible. 
 
 Great pains had been taken by the bishops to suppress the English 
 Bible. The king refused to call it in, and they therefore complained 
 much of the translation, which they wished to have condemned, and 
 a new one promised, which might have been delayed during several 
 years. Cranmer, perceiving that the Bible was the great eye-sore of 
 the Popish party, and that they were resolved to oppose it by all the 
 means they could think of, procured an order from the king, referring 
 the correction of the translation to the two universities. The bishops 
 took this very ill, and all of them, except those of Ely and St. David's 
 protested against it. 
 
 Method of Preaching 
 In former times there had been iew or no sermons, except in Lent ; 
 for on holy days the sermons were panegyrics on the saints, and on 
 the virtues of their pretended rehcs. But in Lent there was a more 
 
240 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 solemn way of preaching; and the frkrs maintained their credit much 
 by the pathetic sermons they preached in that time, and by which 
 they wrought much on the passions of the people ; yet even these 
 for the most part tended to extol fasting, confession, and other auste- 
 rities, with very little of the true simplicity of Christianity, or the 
 Scriptures ; and were designed rather to raise a sudden heat, than to 
 work a real change in their auditors. They had also mixed so much 
 Out of the legends with their sermons, that the people at length disbe- 
 lieved all they said, on account of those fabulous things with which 
 their sermons were debased. 
 
 The reformers, on the other hand, took great care to instruct their 
 hearers in the fimdamentals of religion, of which they had known 
 little formerly : this made the nation follow those teachers with a 
 wonderful zeal ; but some of them mixed more sharpness against 
 the friars in their sermons, than was consistent with the mild spirit of 
 Christianity, although the hypocrisy and cheats of their antagonists 
 did in a great measure excuse those heats ; and it was observed that 
 our Saviour had exposed the Pharisees in so plain a manner, that it 
 justified the treating them with some roughness. This made it seem 
 necessary to suffer none to preach, at least out of their own parishes, 
 without license, and many were licensed to preach as itinerants. 
 There was also a book of homilies on all the epistles and gospels in 
 the year, published, which contained a plain paraphrase of those parts 
 of scripture, together with some practical exhortations founded on 
 them. Many complaints were made of those who were licensed to 
 preach, and that they might be able to justify themselves, they began 
 generally to write and read their sermons ; and thus did this custom 
 begin. 
 
 t An Act concerning Religion. 
 
 In 1543, a bill was proposed by Cranmer, for t"he advancement of 
 true religion, which was much opposed, and those who at first joined 
 him afterwards forsook him ; so that it was much altered for the 
 worse in its progress. By it Tindal's translation of the Bible Avas 
 condemned, and also all other books contrary to the doctrine set forth 
 by the bishops. Bibles, of another translation, were still allowed to 
 be kept, but all prefaces or annotations to them, were to be expunged ; 
 all the king's injunctions were confirmed ; no books of religion were 
 to be printed without license ; there was to be no exposition of scrip- 
 ture in plays or interludes ;* none of the laity might read the scrip 
 ture, or explain it in any public assembly ; but a proviso was made 
 for public speeches, which then began generally with a text of scrip- 
 
 * It had been, during several centuries, a custom to dramatize certain portions of 
 Bcripture, which were represented by the mcnks themselves, as well as by other persons, 
 under the title of Mysteries ; and many of these performances were highly profane 
 and indecorous. But the "plays and interludes" alluded to in the above mentioned act, 
 appear to have been burlesque representations of the mummeries of the church of Rome, 
 ricQculous enough in themselves, but rendered more palpably so, by tliis method of 
 treating them. As, however, the ridicule which was pointed at the abuses of religion, 
 might, by malice or ignorance, be transferred to what is really sacred, these represen- 
 tations were properly condemned, both by Catholics and Protestants, and the Re- 
 formers trusted to the growing intellect of the age for the condemnation of what was 
 blameable, and the preservation of what was praiseworthy, in the ritual of the chiurch. 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION, 241 
 
 tiire, and were like sermons. Noblemen, gentlemen, and their wives, 
 or merchants, might have Bibles; but no ordinary woman, trades- 
 man, apprentice, or husbandman, was allowed to retain any.* Every 
 person might have the book published by the bishops, the psalter, and 
 other rudiments of religion, in English. All churchmen, who preach- 
 ed contrary to that book, for the first offence, were required to re- 
 cant ; for the second, to abjure and carry a fagot; but, for the third, 
 they were to be burnt. The laity, for the third offence, were to for- 
 feit their goods and chattels, and to be liable to perpetual imprison- 
 ment. The parties accused were not allowed witnesses for their pur- 
 gation. The act of the six articles was confirmed, and it was left free 
 to the king, to change this act, or any proviso in it. There was also 
 a new act passed, giving authority to the king's proclamations, and 
 any nine privy counsellors Avere empowered to proceed against of- 
 fenders. Against this the Lord Mountjoy dissented, and is the only in- 
 stance of any nobleman having the courage to protest against the in- 
 numerable legislative iniquities of this reign. 
 
 Attempts to ruin Cranmer 
 
 The chief thing now aimed at, by the whole popish party, was 
 Cranmer's ruin. Gardiner employed many to infuse the belief into 
 the king, that he gave the chief encouragement to heresy in England, 
 and that it was in vain to lop off the branches, and leave the root still 
 growing. The king, before this, would never hear the complaints that 
 were made of him : but now, to be informed of the depth of this de- 
 sign, he was willing to make himself acquainted with all that was to 
 be said against him. 
 
 Gardiner reckoned, that this point being gained, all the rest would 
 follow, and judging that the king was now alienated from him, more 
 instruments and artifices than ever were made use of. A long paper, 
 containing many particulars against both Cranmer and his chaplains, 
 was put into the king's hands. Upon this the king sent for him; and 
 after he had complained much of the heresy in England, he said, he 
 resolved to find out the chief promoter of it, and to make him an ex- 
 ample. 
 
 . Cranmer advised him first to consider well what heresy was, that 
 so he might not condemn those as heretics, who maintained the true 
 word of God against human inventions. Then the king told him 
 frankly, that he Avas the man complained of, as most guilty ; and 
 showed him all the informations that he had received against him. 
 
 Cranmer avowed that he Avas still of the same mind as when he op- 
 posed the six articles, and submitted himself to a trial ; he confessed 
 
 * By this proviso, it would appear that these bigots wished religion to be confined 
 to the "nobihty, gentry, and merchants," to the exclusion of the poor and humble me- 
 chanic and labourer. Did they imagine that the kingdom of heaven was the exclusive 
 property of those favoured beings ; and that, because they dwelt in earthly palaces, they 
 must of necessity be received into heavenly mansions 1 Did they not know that our 
 blessed Saviour selected his most eminent apostles and disciples from among those de- 
 spised classes, whom they considered unworthy even to hear his gracious word 1 Let 
 us, of the present generation, praise our heavenly Father, who has cast our lot in a pe- 
 riod when the knowledge of his promises, and the possession of his scriptures, are not 
 confined to the "mighty of this earth," but form the treasure of every cottage, and the 
 solace and support of the lowliest of mankind. 
 
 31 
 
242 BOOK OF MARTYRS 
 
 many things to the king ; in particular, that he had a wife ; but he 
 said he had sent her out of England, when the act of the six articles 
 was passed ; and expressed so great a sincerity, and put so entire a 
 coniidence in the king, that instead of being ruined, he was now 
 better established with him than ever. 
 
 The king commanded him to appoint some persons to examin^ the 
 CGYitrivance that had been laid to destroy him ; he answered, that it 
 was not decent for him to nominate any to judge in a cause in which 
 himself was concerned ; but the king being positive, he named some 
 to go about it, and the whole secret was discovered. It appeared that 
 Gardiner and Dr. London had been the chief instruments, and had 
 encouraged informers to appear against him. Cranmer did not press 
 the king for any reparation ; for he was so noted for his readiness to 
 forgive injuries, and to return good for evil, that it was commonly said, 
 the best way to obtain his favour, was to do him an injury ; of this he 
 gave signal instances at this time, both in relation to the clergy and 
 laity ; by which it appeared that he was actuated by that meek and 
 lowly spirit, which becomes all the followers of Christ, but more par- 
 ticularly one who was so great an instrument in reforming the Chris- 
 tian religion ; and did, by such eminent acts of charity, show that he 
 himself practised that which he taught others to do. 
 
 A parliament was now called, in which an act providing for the 
 succession of the croAvn was passed. By it Prince Edward and his 
 heirs, or the heirs of the king's present marriage, were to succeed on 
 the decease of the king ; after them, the Lady Mary and Lady Eliza- 
 beth ; and in case they had no issue, or did not observe such limita- 
 tions or conditions as the king should 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 with his hand. An oath was 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 was made treason to say or write any thing contrary 
 to this act, or to the slander of any of the king's heirs named in it. 
 
 Another bill was passed, qualifying the severity of the six articles ; 
 by which it was enacted, that none should be imprisoned but upon a 
 legal presentment, except upon the king's warrant. None was to be 
 challenged for words spoken, except the accusation were brought 
 within a year after the commission of the offence ; nor for a sermon, 
 but within forty days. This was made to prevent such conspiracies 
 as had been discovered during the former year. 
 
 Another act was passed, renewing the authority given to thirty-two 
 commissioners to reform the ecclesiastical lawj which Cranmer pro- 
 moted much ; and to advance so good a purpose, he drew out of the 
 canon law a collection of many things against the regal and for the 
 i^apal authority, with several other very extravagant propositions, to 
 show how improper it was, to let a book, in which such things were, 
 continue still in any credit in England : but he could not bring this 
 to any good issue. A general pardon was also granted, out of which 
 heresy was excepted. 
 
 Audley, the chancellor, dying at this time, Wriothesly, who was of 
 the popish party, was put in his place ; and Dr. Petre, Cranmer's 
 friend, was made secretary of state : so equally did the king keep the 
 balance between both parties. He gave orders also to translate the 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 343 
 
 prayers, and litanies, into the English tongue, which gave the reform- 
 ers some hopes that he had not quite cast off his design of reform- 
 ing such abuses as had crept into the worship 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 Landaff, who, in his heart, favoured the refor- 
 mation. Kitchin, who turned with every change, was made bishop of 
 LandafF; Heath was removed from Rochester to Worcester; Holbeck 
 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 vvith zeal, and was taken into custody for her opinions, in 
 March, 1545. She imderwent several examinations touching the 
 points of difference 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 answered, ' That I was 
 no heretic, neither yet 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 would 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 reniedy 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 plainly deny Christ to be in the saci-amenl ?' I answered. 
 
244 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 • that 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 
 17th of the Acts, and the 24th of Matthew, concluding thus — ' I nei- 
 ther wish death, nor yet fear his might ; God have the praise thereof 
 with thanks.' 
 
 " My faith hriefiy written to the hinges grace, and sentbytJie 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 hath 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 Exaifiination and Treatment after my departure from Newgate. 
 
 "■ 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 Sliaxton, 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 ansvv^er was, ' That I knew none.' Then they asked me 
 of Lady Suflfoik, 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 
 tell ; for I am not sure who sent it me, but as the maid did say. 
 
PROGRESS OF THE llEFORMAtlON. 24^- 
 
 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 n: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 that 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 was 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 sufiicient, he was about to take her 
 down, supposing that he had done enough. But Wriothesley, the 
 chancelloi', not contented that she should be loosed so soon, having 
 confessed nothing, commanded 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 
 oft' their gowns, would needs play the tormentors themselves, first ask- 
 ing her " If she were with child ?" to which she answered, " Ye shall 
 aot 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 ^rdon ;" which when the king had heard, he seemed not 
 much to approve their severity ; and granted the lieixtenant 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, apd 
 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 by 
 
246 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 the law unrighteously condemntd for an evil doer, concerning opi- 
 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 tak& 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 sufier the death. But as touching the holy and 
 blessed supper of the 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 sufficient for our learning and salvation, that 
 Christ hath left here with us ; so that, I believe, we need no imwritten 
 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 arid 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 vain 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, which 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 " 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. ^47 
 
 "We have thought it advisable to give so much of this lady's own 
 writings, as they afford very strong evidence of her faith, and zealfor 
 the cause of truth. To this sacred cause she was now about to give 
 the la&t^and highest proof of her attachment, by yielding up her life 
 at the staJke, as a token of her devotion to the pure religion of Jesus, 
 and her abhorrence of the devices and inventions of the papists. 
 
 On the day appointed for her execution, «he 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 tiiis 
 answer, " That she came not thither to deny her Lord and iflaster," 
 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 other 
 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 justitia." 
 
 And thus these blessed martyrs were compassed in with flames of 
 fire, and offered up as sacrifices imto 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 so.urce of all the heresies in England; but Henry's es- 
 teem for him was such, that no one would 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- 
 ciite 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 rnight be heard in answer for himself; and that he might have im- 
 partial judges, competent to decide. Hen^ 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. He 
 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 finger, and gave him, which they 
 would know so well that they would 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 ^-ose 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 talk with 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 went 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 which she was to be impeached. But the chancel- 
 lor carelessly dropping the paper, it happened to be taken up by one' 
 cf *hz queen's friends, who carried it to her. 
 
 The next night, after supner. 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 249 
 
 even so also made he woman of man, of whom, and hy whom, she is 
 to be governed, commanded, and directed ; whose womanly weak- 
 nesses and natural imperfection ought to be tolerated, aided, and 
 borne withal, so that by his Avisdom 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 ofSce 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 yoxir 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 hundretl thousand pounds in 
 money 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, waited upon by two gentlemen only of his bed- 
 chamber, went into the garden, Avhither 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 (ff t^e king's guards, intending 
 
 32 
 
250 B©OK 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 what he said is not well known : it is, 
 however, certain that the king's reply to him was, " Knave ! yea, ar- 
 r-ant 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 
 behalf 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 hath 
 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 he 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 hirr much 
 pain, the humours of his body discharging themselves that w&y, 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 will 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 
 Nhim 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 of 
 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 Jesus. 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 OP THE REFORMATION. jggl 
 
 the parliament continued to sit till the 31st of January, when his de- 
 cease was made pubJic. 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 inEngland by the 
 popish clergy, and the apprehensions he was in of the emperor's 
 greatness, together with 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 effusion of blood, 
 which might have otherwise followed if he had been more gentle ; 
 and it was no wonder, 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 tyranny. This was the execution of the earl of Surry, a 
 brave and accomplished 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 which 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 former 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 M^ell did these ser- 
 vile wretches fulfil their inhuman master'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 h\ the 
 course of the night the king was himself summoned before the triba- 
 nal of the eternal Judg«. 
 
 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 ver« learned man, and of 
 a godly disposition, being intimately acquainted with Thomas Bilnt y, 
 the glorious martyr of Christ. The more he grew and increased in 
 the knowledge of God, and his holy work, th^ more he disliked the 
 corrupt state of religion then prevalent; 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 town, 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 OP 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 bisho-p'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 unclean 
 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 of 
 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 b-e 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 was 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 
 the 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 rabble, 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, that " 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 priest 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 with wax such 
 cursed and heretical bills full of blasphemy, upon the doors of this, 
 and other holy churches within this city. Excommunicate plainly 
 be 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 ho'ises, 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 
 to 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 this 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 OP MARTYRS. 
 
 away, the staff fell down. And the ignorant people were almost petri- 
 fied 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 nfext 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 
 byword of mouth, as by putting uphills 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, who 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 
 xiatholic 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 
 and 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 wife 
 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 effojrts were vain ; he remained firm in 
 ,the faith, and would not relinquish the cross which he had taken up. 
 
PROGBfiSS OP THE REFORMATION. 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 thief, the mercenary, and murderer of Christ's 
 flock." They who had some learning persuaded him to believe the 
 church, and showed 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 
 dothi" 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 
 they, " 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 maintaineth 
 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 universal 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- 
 fession 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 Benet, " 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 
 
8S6 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 think," said they, " thou art so malicious, that thou wilt confess no 
 church." — " Look," said he, " where they are that confess the true 
 name of Jesus Christ, where only Christ is the head, and bishops, 
 ministers, and preachers, do their duties in setting forth the glory 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 Avhere 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 true 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 believe 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 handle 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 poena et culpa, as ye terra 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 his faith by representing to him the great dangers to 
 which he exposed himself. " I take God to record," said Benet, " my 
 
PROQRESS OF THE -REFORMATION. 257 
 
 ;lifeis 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 the 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 W^eek, 
 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 Avorld." 
 
 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 sheriff" 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 sanctam Ma- 
 riam, et omnes sanctos Dei" &c. To whom he, with all meeknesSj 
 answered, saying, " No, no ; it is God only upon whose name we must 
 call, and we have no other advocate to him but Jesus Christ, who 
 died for us, and now sitteth at the right hand of the Father to be an ad- 
 vocate for us, and by him must we offer and make our prayers to God, 
 if we will have them to take place and be heard." With a^ hich answer 
 Barnehouse was so enraged, that he took a furze-bush upon a pike, 
 and setting it on fire, thrust it into his face, saying, " Heretic ! pray 
 to our lady, and say, Sancta Maria, or a pro nobis, or by God's vt^'ounds 
 I will make thee do it." 
 
 To whom the martyr meekly and patiently answered, " Alas, Sir, 
 trouble me not ;" and holding up his hands, he said, " Pater ignosce 
 illis.''^ Whereupon the persecutors caused the wood and furze to be 
 set on fire, and Benet, lifting up his eyes and hands to heaven, cried 
 out, " Domine, recipe spiritum vieum.'''' And so continued in his 
 prayers until his life was ended. 
 
 To the martvrdoms which have already been recorded, many others 
 
 33 
 
253 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 might be added ; but our limits require us to conclude our account of 
 the persecutions under Henry VIII, which wc shall do with the story 
 and martyrdom of William Tindall ; who, although he did not suffer 
 in England, deserves a conspicuous notice in these pages, for his great 
 zeal and perseverance in the dissemination of truth. 
 
 Life and Martyrdom of William Tindall. 
 
 "William Tindall was born about the borders «^f Wales, and brought 
 up, from a child, in the University of Oxford, w. jere, by long continu- 
 ance Jje grew up, and increased, as well ip the knowledge of tongues 
 and toIw liberal arts, as in the knowledge of the scriptures, to the 
 study of which he was much addicted ; insomuch, that being then in 
 Magdalen hall, he read privately to some of the students and fellows 
 of Magdalen college, in divinity; instructing them in the knowledge 
 and truth of the scriptures ; and all that knew him reputed and es- 
 teemed him to be a man of most virtuous disposition, and of unspot- 
 tecl life. 
 
 Having remained some time at Oxford, he removed to the univer- 
 sity of Cambridge, where, having made great progress in his studies, 
 he quitted that place, and going to Gloucestershire, engaged himselr 
 to a knight named Welch, as tutor to his children. To this gentle- 
 man's hospitable table used to resort several abbots, deans, and other 
 beneficed clergymen, with whom Tindall used to converse on the sub- 
 jects which at that time principally occupied the attention of all per- 
 sons — viz, divinity, and the scriptures. 
 
 Tindall, being learned, and well acquainted with the sacred wri- 
 tings, Avould at first simply avow his opinions, and if those with whom 
 he discoursed objected to his reasonings, he would show them the 
 book, and lay plainly before them the open and manifest language 
 of the scriptures, to confute their errors, and confirm his sayings. 
 And thus they continued for a time, reasoning and contending toge- 
 ther, till at lengm his opponents became envious, and bore a secret 
 grudge in their hearts against him. 
 
 Not long after this, it happened that some of these doctors invited 
 Mr. Welch and his wife to a banquet, where they spoke to them with- 
 out the feaV of contradiction, uttering their blindness and ignorance. 
 Then Welch and his wife coming home, and calling for Mr. Tindall, 
 began to reason with him about these matters ; when Tindall, as 
 usual, answered by scriptures, maintained the truth, and reproved 
 their false opinions. Then said the Lady Welch, a worldly-wise 
 woman, " Well, there was such a doctor, Avhich may spend an hun- 
 dred, another two hundred, and another three hundred pounds ; and 
 were it reason, think you, that we should believe you before them ?" 
 Tindall gave no answer to this display of purse-proud ignorance at 
 that time, and after that, as he saw it would not much avail, he talked 
 but little of those matters. At that time he was about the translation 
 of a book called Encliiridion militis Christiani, which being finished, 
 he delivered to Mr. Welch and his lady ; and after they had well pe- 
 rused the same, they were awakened, in some measure, and the pre- 
 lates and abbots were not so often invited to their house, neither were 
 they so heartily welcomed when they came, as before ; which they 
 perceiving, and concluding that it came by means of Tindall, at last 
 entirely absented themselves from the house. 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 959 
 
 Upon this, the priests of the country concerting together, began to 
 rail against Tindall, in ale-houses and other places. Tindall himself, 
 in his prologue before the first book of Moses, thus mentions their ill 
 treatment of him. " I sufiered much," says he, " in that country by 
 a sort of unlearned priests, being rude and ignorant,- God knoweth; 
 which have seen no more Latin than that only which they read in their 
 portesses and missals ; which yet many of them can scarcely read, 
 except it be Alhertus de secretis mulierum, in which yet, though they 
 be never so sorrily learned, they pore day and night, and make notes 
 therein, and all to teach the midwives, as they say; and also another 
 called Lindwood, a book of constitutions to gather tithes, mortimries, 
 offerings, customs, and other pillage, which they call not theirs, but 
 God's part, the duty of the holy church, to discharge their consciences 
 withal. For they are bound that they shall not diminish but increase 
 all things unto the uttermost of their powers, which pertain to holy 
 church." 
 
 But these blind priests did not only revile him ; but, by perverting 
 what he really said, and adding many false and malicious lies of their 
 own, made out a charge of heresy against him, on which he was ac- 
 cused, and summoned before the bishop's chancellor. 
 
 When he appeared before the chancellor, that officer " threatened 
 him grievously, reviling and rating at him as though he had been a 
 dog, and laid to his chat ge many things whereof no accuser yet could 
 be brought forth, notwithstanding that the priests of the country were 
 there present." As they were unable to substantiate their charges, 
 Tindall returned home again. ^ 
 
 Not long after, Tindall happened to be in company with a certain 
 divine, Avho was accounted a learned man, and in disputing with him, 
 the doctor, overcome by passion, burst out Avith these blasphemous 
 words, "We were better to be without God's laws than the pope's." 
 Mr. Tindall, hearing this, full of godly zeal, and shocked by that blas- 
 phemous saying, replied, "I defy the pope, and all his laws ;" and 
 added, " If God spare my life, ere many years, I will cause a boy that 
 driveth the plough to know more of the scripture than you do." 
 
 After this, the grudge of the priests increasing more and more 
 against Tindall, they never ceased railing at him, and laid many things 
 to his charge, saying, " That he was a heretic in sophistry, in logic, 
 and in divinity ;" and, " That, although he conducted himself boldly 
 to the gentlemen in that county, shortly he should be otherwise talk- 
 ed withal." To whom Tindall replied, "That he was contented they 
 should bring him into any county in England, giving him ten pounds 
 a year to live with, and binding him to no more but to teach children 
 and to preach." 
 
 In short, being constantly molested and vexed by the priests, he 
 was constrained t9 leave that part of the country, and to seek another 
 residence ; and so coming to Mr. Welch, he requested his permission 
 to depart, saying, " Sir, I perceive that I shall not be suffered to tarry 
 long here in this country, neither shall you be able, though you would, 
 to keep me out of the i.ands of the spirituality ; and also what dis- 
 pleasure might grow thereby to you by keeping me, God knoweth, 
 for the which I should be sorry." He accordingly departed, and came 
 up to London, and there preached awhile. At length, recollecting 
 the great commendations besto^.v©d by Erasmus on Tonstall, then 
 
260 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 bishop of London, he thought that it might be very advantageous for 
 him, if he could obtain a situation in his service. He accordingly- 
 waited on Sir Henry Gilford, the king's comptroller, and bringing 
 TB^ith him an oration of Isocrates, which he had translated out of Greek 
 into English, he desired him to speak to the bishop for him ; which 
 he did ; and desired Tindall to write to Tonstall, who accordingly did 
 so, and delivered his epistle to a sei'vant. But God, who secretly dis- 
 poses all things, saw that was not the best for Tindall's purpose, nor 
 for the profit of his church, and therefore allowed him not to find fa- 
 vour in the bishop's sight, who said, "That his house was full; he 
 had more than he could well maintain ; and advised him to seek else- 
 where in London ; where," he said, " he could lack no service." 
 
 . Tindall, therefore, remained in London almost a year, during which 
 time he remarked the demeanour of the preachers, how they boasted 
 of themselves, and set up their authority and kingdom; also the pomp 
 of the prelates, with many other things which greatly vexed him, and 
 plainly convinced him that England was no place for him to translate 
 the New Testament. Having, therefore, obtained some assistance 
 from his friend, Humphrey Munmouth, and other good men, he de- 
 parted to Germany; where, being inflamed with zeal for his country, 
 he studied, by all possible means, to bring his- countrymen to the same 
 understanding of God's holy word and verity, as he himself, by God's 
 blessing, enjoyed. 
 
 He perceived, that the principal cause of the people's blindness, 
 sad of the gross errors of the church, with all their evils, Avas the scrip- 
 tures being concealed in an unknown tongue, by which the truth was 
 kept out of sight, and the corruptions of the priests remained unde- 
 tected ; and therefore all the labour of these men was to keep it 
 down, so that either it should not be read at all, or if it were, they 
 would darken the right sense with the mist of their sophistry, and so 
 entangle those who rebuked or despised their abominations, worldly 
 similitudes, and apparent reasons of natural wisdom, and by wresting 
 the scripture to theif own purpose, contrary to the meaning of the text, 
 would so delude and amaze the unlearned people, that though they 
 were sure that all were false, yet could they not solve those subtle 
 riddles. 
 
 By these and such other considerations this good man was moved 
 and stirred up of God, to translate the scripture rnto his mother 
 tongue, for the utility and profit of the simple people of the country. 
 He began with the New Testament, which he translated about the 
 year 1527. After that he took in hand the Old Testament, finishing 
 the five books of Moses, with learned and godly prefaces to every 
 book, as he had also done upon the New Testament, 
 
 He also wrote various other works, amongst which was, " The 
 Obedience of a Christian man," wherein with singulaS" dexterity he in- 
 structed all men in the office and duty of Christian obedience ; another 
 treatise was entitled, "The wicked Mammon, the practice of Prelates;" 
 with expositions upon certain parts of scripture and other books, in an- 
 swer to Sir Thomas More, and other adversaries of the truth. 
 
 His books being published, and sent over to England, it cannot be 
 imagined, what a door of light they opened to the eyes of the whole 
 nation, which before had been during several centuries shut up in 
 darkness. 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. ^f 
 
 At his first departure, he had journeyed into Saxony, where he had 
 a conference with Luther, and other learned men; and after making 
 a short stay there, he went into the Netherlands, and resided mostly 
 in the town of Antwerp. 
 
 An unfortunate accident occasioned a considerable delay in the 
 publication of his Old Testament. Having finished the five books ot 
 Moses, he set sail to Hamburgh, with the intention of printing them 
 there. But on his voyage, he was shipwrecked, and lost all his manu- 
 scripts, with almost all he possessed* He, however, in another ves- 
 sel, pursued his voyage, and arriving at Hamburgh, Mr. Coverdale 
 helped him in the re-translating what had been lost, which occupied 
 them from Easter till December, 1529, in the house of a Miss Mar- 
 garet Yan Emmerson. Having despatched his business, he returned 
 to Antwerp. 
 
 When the New Testament was ready for publication, Tindall added 
 at the end, a letter wherein he desired the learned to amend whatever 
 they found in it amiss. But the bishops and other clergy, not v/illing 
 to have that book prosper, cried out against it, asserting that there 
 were a thousand heresies in it, and that it was not to be corrected, 
 but utterly suppressed. Some said it was not possible to translate 
 the scripture into English ; others, that it was not lawful for the laity 
 to have it in their mother tongue, as it would make them all heretics. 
 And to induce the temporal rulers to assist them in their purpose, they 
 said that it would make the people rebel, and rise against the king. 
 
 The bishops and prelates of the realm, thus incensed and inflamed 
 in their minds, and conspiring together, how to suppress the cause of 
 their alarm, never rested, till they had brought the king at last to issue 
 a proclamation ordaining that the Testament of Tindall's translation, 
 with his other works, and those of other reformed writers, should be 
 suppressed and burnt. This was about the year 1527. But, not con- 
 tented with this, the bloodythirsty crew proceeded further, and strove 
 to entangle him in their nets, and to bereave him of his life. 
 
 Whenever the bishops or Sir Thomas More had any poor man un- 
 der examination before them, who had been at Antwerp, they most 
 studiously would search and examine into every thing relating to 
 Tindall ; as, where and with whom he lodged ; what was his stature; 
 in what apparel he went ; what company he kept, «fec. ; and when 
 they had made themselves acquainted with all these things, they then 
 began their work of darkness. 
 
 Tindall being in the town of Antwerp, had lodged, about a year, in 
 the house of Thomas Pointz, an Englishman, who kept there a house 
 for EngHsh merchants, when Henry PhiHps, in appearance a gentle- 
 man, and having a servant with him, arrived there ; but wherefore he 
 came, or for what purpose he was sent thither, no man could tell. 
 
 Tindall was frequently invited to dinner and supper among mer- 
 chants, by which means, this Henry Philips became acquainted with 
 him ; so that in a short time Tindall conceived a great friendship and 
 confidence for him, brought him to his lodging in the house of Pointz, 
 and had him also once or twice to dinner and supper, and further en- 
 tered into such friendship with him, that he brought him to lodge in 
 the house of Pointz. He also showed him his books and papers ; so 
 little did he then mistrust this traitor. 
 
 But Pointz having no great confidence in the fellow, asked Tindall 
 
g62 BOOK OP MARTYRe. 
 
 how he became acquainted with him. Tindall answeyed, that he was 
 an honest man, tolerably learned, and very agreeable. Then Pointz, 
 perceiving that he was so partial to him, said no more, thinking that 
 he was brought acquainted with him by some friend of his. 
 
 Philips being in the town three or four days, desired Pointz to walk 
 out with him ; and in walking together without the town, they con- 
 versed on various subjects, and on some of the king's affairs ; by 
 which talk Pointz as yet suspected nothing, but, by the sequel, he 
 perceived what had been intended. In the mean time he learned, 
 that he bore no great good will to the reformation, or to the proceed- 
 ings of the king of England, and perceived about him a deal of mys- 
 tery and a sort of courting him to make him subservient to his de- 
 signs, by the hopes of reward, he always appearing very full of 
 money. But Pointz kept at a distance. 
 
 Philips, finding that he could not bring him over to his designs, 
 went from Antwerp to the court at Brussels ; and, although the king 
 had then no ambassador there, being at variance with the emperor, 
 this traitor contrived to bring from thence with him to Antwerp, the 
 procurator-general, (the emperor's attorney,) with other officers ; 
 which was done at great expense. 
 
 A short time after, Pointz sitting at his door, Philip's servant came 
 to him, and asking whether Mr. Tindall v/ere there, said, his master 
 would come to him, and so departed. But whether Philips were then 
 in the town or not, was not known ; for at that time Pointz saw no 
 more either of the master or of the man. 
 
 Within three ©r four days after, Pointz went on business to the 
 town of Barrow, eighteen English miles from Antwerp, and in the 
 time of his absence. Philips came again to the house of Pointz, and 
 coming in, asked Mrs. Pointz for Mr. Tindall, and whether he would 
 dine there with him, saying, " What good meat shall we have ?" She 
 answered, " Such as the market will give." Then he went out again, 
 and set the officers which he brought with him from Brussels, in the 
 street, and about the door. About noon he returned, and went to 
 Mr. Tindall, and desired him to lend him forty shillings ; " for," said 
 he, "I lost my purse this morning, coming over at the passage be- 
 tween this and Mechlin." So Tindall gave him forty shillings, being 
 very easily imposed upon, and entirely unskilled in the wiles and 
 subtleties of this world. 
 
 Philips then said, " Mr. Tindall, you shall be my guest here to day.'^ 
 " No," said Tindall, " I am engaged this day to dinner, and you shall 
 go with me, and be my guest, where you shall be welcome." So 
 when it was dinner time they went. 
 
 At the going out of Pointz's house, was a long narrow entry, so 
 that two could riot go in front. Tindall would have put Philips be- 
 fore him. But Philips would not go, but insisted on Tindall's going 
 before-. So Tindall, being a man of no great stature, went before, and 
 Philips, a tall, comely person, followed him ; and having set officers 
 on each side of the door on coming through, Philips pointed with his 
 finger over Tindall's head down to him, that the officers might see 
 that it was he whom they should take, as they afterwards told Pointz, 
 and said, that when they had laid him in prison, " they pitied his sim- 
 plicity when they took him." They accordingly seized him, and 
 brought him to the emperor's procurator-general, where he dined. 
 
PROOKESS OF THE HEFQHMATIO^. ggg 
 
 Then came the procurator-general to the house of Pointz, and sent 
 away all that was there of Mr. Tindall's, as well his books as other 
 things, and from thence Tindall was conveyed to the castle of Filford, 
 eighteen miles from Antwerp, where he remained until he was put to 
 death. 
 
 Some English merchants hearing of his apprehension, sent letters 
 in his favour to the court of Brussels. Also, not long after, letters 
 were sent from England to the council at Brussels, and to the mer- 
 chant adventurers at Antwerp, commanding them to see that those for 
 the council were instantly delivered. Then fiuch of the chief of the 
 merchants as were there at that time, being called together, required 
 Pointz to deliver those letters, with letters also from them in favour 
 of Tindall, to the lord of Barrow and others. 
 
 The lord of Barrow at that time had departed from Brussels, as the 
 chief conductor of the eldest daughter of the king of Denmark, to be 
 married to the palsgrave, whose mother was sister to the emperor. 
 Pointz, when he heard of his departure, rode after, and overtook him 
 at Achon, where he delivered to him his letters; to which he made 
 no direct answer, but somewhat objecting, said, " There^were some of 
 his countrymen Avho had been burned in England not long before ;" 
 as, indeed, there were anabaptists burned in Smithfield, which Pointz 
 acknowledged. " Howbeit," said he, " whatsoever . the crime was, 
 if your lordship, or any other nobleman had written, requiring to have 
 them, I think they should not have been denied." "Well," said he, 
 •' 1 have no leisure to write, for the princess is ready to ride," 
 
 Then said Pointz, " If it please your lordship, I will attend upon 
 you unto the next baiting place," which was at Maestricht. " If you 
 will," replied he, " I will advise myself by the way what to write." 
 Upon this, Pointz followed him from Achon to Maestricht, fifteen 
 English miles, and there he received letters of him, one to the coun- 
 cil at Brussels, another to the company of the merchant adventurers, 
 and a third to the Lord Cromwell in England. 
 
 Pointz then rode to Brussel*?, and there delivered to the council 
 the letters from England, with the lord of Barrow's letters also, and 
 received answers for England, which he brought to Antwerp to the 
 English merchants, who required him to carry them into England. 
 He, very desirous to have Mr. Tindall out of prison, forbore no pains, 
 nor regarded the loss of time in his own business, but immediately 
 sailed with the letters, which he delivered to the council, and was 
 commanded by them to wait until he had answers, which was not till 
 a month after. At length receiving them, he returned again, and de- 
 livered them to the emperor's council at Brussels, and there waited 
 for their answer. 
 
 When he had l^mained there three or four days, he was told by a 
 person who belonged to the chancery, that Tindall should have been 
 delivered to him according to the tenor of the letters ; but Philips 
 being there, followed the suit against Tindall, and hearing that he 
 was to be delivered to Pointz, and doubting lest he should thus lose 
 his victim, determined to accuse Pointz also, saying, " That he was 
 a dweller in the town of Antwerp, and there had been a succourer of 
 Tindall, and was one of the same opinion : and that all this was 
 only his own labour and suit, to have Tindall at liberty, and no man 
 else." 
 
264 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Thus, upon bis information and accusation, Pointz was attached 
 by the procurator-general, delivered to the custody of two Serjeants 
 .at arms, and the same evening was examined by a person belongin|[ 
 to the chancery, with the procurator-general, who put him to his oath, 
 that he should truly make answer to all such things as should be in- 
 quired of him. The next day likewise they came again, and further 
 examined him ; and so five or six days one after another, upon more 
 than a hundred articles, as well of the king's affairs, as of the mes- 
 sages concerning Tindall, of his aiders, and of his religion. Out 
 of which examinations the procurator-general drew up twenty-three 
 or twenty-four articles against Pointz, the copy whereof he delivered 
 to him to make answer to, and permitted him to have an advocate and 
 proctor ; and it was ordered, that eight days after he should deliver 
 to them his answer ; also, that he should send no messenger to Ant- 
 werp, nor to any other place, but by the post of the town of Brus- 
 sels ; nor send any letters, nor any to be delivered to him, but such as 
 were written in Dutch, and the procurator-general, who was party 
 .against him, was to peruse and examine them thoroughly, contrary to 
 all right and equity, before they were sent or delivered ; neither was 
 any person suffered to speak or talk with him in any other tongue or 
 language, except the Dutch, so that his keepers, who were Dutch- 
 men, might understand what was said. After this Pointz delivered 
 his answer to the procurator-general, and afterwards, at intervals of 
 eight days each, replications and answers were made by both 
 parties. 
 
 When the commissioners came to Pointz, the traitor Philips* ac- 
 companied them to the door, as following the process against him ; as 
 he also did against Tindall. 
 
 Thus Pointz was exposed to much trouble and suffering on account 
 of his generous exertions in favour of Tindall. He was long kept 
 in prison ; but, at length, when he saw no other remedy, by night he 
 made his escape. But the pious Tindall could not so escape, but re- 
 mained during a year and a half in prison ; and then being brought 
 to his trial, was offered to have an advocate and a proctor. But he 
 refused the offer, saying, " That he would answer for himself;" and 
 so he did. 
 
 At last, after much reasoning, where all reason was disregarded, he 
 was condemned by virtue of the emperor's decree, made in the assem- 
 bly at Augsburgh, and brought to the place of execution, where he 
 was tied to the stake, and then strangled first by the hangman, and 
 afterwards consumed with fire in the town of Filford, A. D. 1536; 
 crying thus at the stake with a fervent zeal, and a loud voice, " Lord, 
 open the king of England's eyes." 
 
 Such was the power of the doctrine, and the siireferity of the life of 
 this amiable man, and glorious martyr, that during his imprisonment 
 he converted the keeper, his daughter, and others of his. household. 
 Also all that were conversant with him in the castle acknowledged, 
 that " if he were not a good Christian, they could not tell whom to 
 trust." 
 
 * It is said that Philips, who betrayed Tindall and Pointz, died of a loathsome 
 disease, heing consumed by vermin, who preyed upon his living carcase. 
 
 rgik. 
 
Cursing a Heretic. page 253. 
 
 Seizure of William TindaU. page 263. 
 
 Martyrdom of George Wishart. page 269. 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 266 
 
 Even the procurator-general left this testimony of him, that •' he 
 was a learned, an excellent, and a godly man." 
 
 To enumerate the virtues and actions of this blessed martyr, would 
 require much time, and many pages. Suffice it to say, that he was 
 one of those who, by his works, shone as a sun of light amidst a dark 
 world, and gave evidence that he was a faithful servant of his master 
 and saviour, Jesus Christ. 
 
 SECTION IV 
 
 PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND, DURING THE FIFTEENTH AND PART OF 
 THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 Having brought our accoimt of the sufferings and martyrdoms of 
 the English reformers down to the death of Henry the Eighth, we 
 shall now proceed to relate the cruel iiersecutions of God's faithful 
 servants in Scotland, to the same period ; but it will previously be 
 ; necessary to give a short sketch of the progress of the reformation in 
 that country. 
 
 The long alliance between Scotland and France, had rendered the 
 two nations extremely attached to each other ; and Paris was the 
 place where thq learned of Scotland had their education. Yet early 
 in the fifteenth century, learJiing was more encouraged in Scotland, 
 and universities were founded in several of the episcopal sees. About 
 .the same time, some of Wickliffe's followers began to show themselves 
 in Scotland ; and an Englishman, named Resby, was burnt in 140?, 
 for teaching some opinions contrary to the pope's authority. 
 
 Some years after that, Paul Craw, a Bohemian,, who had heem 
 converted by Huss, was burnt for infusing the opinions of that mar- 
 . tyr into some persons at St. Andrew's. 
 
 About the end of the fifteenth century, Lollardy, as it was then 
 called, spread itself into many parts of the diocese of Glasgow, for 
 which several persons of quality were accused ; but they answered 
 the archbishop of that see with so much boldness and truth, that ht> 
 dismissed them, having admonished them to content themselves/uatli 
 the faith of the church, and to beware of new doctrines. 
 
 The same spirit of ignorance, immorality, and superstition, had 
 over-run the church of Scotland that was so much complained of in 
 other parts of Europe. The total neglect of the pastoral care, and 
 the scandalous lives of the clergy, filled the people with such preju- 
 dices against them, that they were easily disposed to hearken to new 
 preachers, amoiM^t the most conspicuous of whom was Patrick 
 Hamilton. 
 
 Story and Martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton. 
 
 This noble martyr was nephew, by his father, to the earl of Arran, 
 and by his "mother, to the duke of Albany. He was educated for the 
 church, and would have been highly preferred, having an abbey given 
 him for prosecuting his studies. But going over to Germany, and 
 studying at the university of Marpurg, he soon distinguished himself 
 by his zeal, assiduity, and great progress, particularly in t^e scrip- 
 tures, which were his grand object, and to which he made every thing- 
 else subservient. He also became acquainted \sii\h Luther and Me- 
 
 34 ■ ■ 
 
266 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 lancthon ; and being convinced, from his own researches, of the 
 truth of their doctrines, he burned to impart the light of the gospel to 
 his own countrymen, and to show them the errors and corruptions ol 
 their church. For this great purpose he returned to Scotland. 
 
 After preaching some time, and holding up the truth to his deluded 
 countrymen, he was, at length, invited to St. AndreAv's to confer upon 
 the points in question. But his enemies could not stand the light, 
 and finding they could not defend themselves by argument, resolved 
 upon revenge. Hamilton was accordingly imprisoned. Articles 
 were exhibited against him, in which he was charged with having 
 denied free-will ; advocated justification by faith alone ; and declared 
 that faith, hope, and charity, are so linked together, that one cannot 
 exist in the breast without the other. 
 
 Upon his refusing to abjure these doctrines, Beaton, archbishop of 
 St. Andrew's, with the archbishop of Glasgow, three bishops, and five 
 abbots, condemned him as an obstinate heretic, delivered him to the 
 secular power, and ordered his execution to take place that very 
 afternoon ; for the king had gone in pilgrimage to Ross, and they were 
 afraid, lest, upon his return, Hamilton's friends might have interceded 
 efiectually for him. When he was tied to the stake, he expressed 
 great joy in his sufferings, since by these he was to enter into ever- 
 lasting life. 
 
 A train of powder being fired, it did not kindle the fuel, but only 
 burnt his face, which occasioned a delay till more powder was 
 brought ; and in that time the friars continually urged him to recant, 
 and pray to the Virgin, saying the Salve Regina. Among the rest, a 
 friar named Campbell, who had been often with him in prison, was 
 very ofiicious. Hamilton answered him, that he knew he was not a 
 heretic, and had confessed it to him in private, and charged him to 
 ansAver for that at the throne of Almighty God.* By this time the 
 gunpowder was brought, and the fire being kindled, he died, repeat- 
 ing these words, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit ! How long, oh 
 Lard ; how long shall darkness overwhelm this kingdom? and how 
 long wilt thou suffer the tyranny of these men ]" He suffered death 
 in the year 1527. 
 
 The views and doctrines of this glorious martyr were such as could 
 not fail to excite the highest admiration of every real believer ; and 
 they were expressed with such brevity, such clearness, and such pe- 
 culiar vigour and beauty, (forming in themselves a complete summary 
 of the gospel,) that they afforded instruction to all who sought to know 
 more of God. 
 
 The force of the truths preached by Hamilton, the firmness of his 
 d^ath, and the singular catastrophe of friar Carripbell, made strong 
 impressions on the people ; and many received the neAV opinions. 
 Seaton, a Dominican, the king's confessor, preaching in Lent, set 
 out the nature and method of true repentance, without mixing the di- 
 rections which the friars commonly gave on that subject ; and when 
 another friar attempted to shew the defectiveness of what he had 
 taught, Seaton defended himself in another sermon, and reflected on 
 those bishops who did not preach, calling them dumb-dogs. But the 
 clergy dared not meddle with him, till they had by secret insinuations 
 
 ♦ A short time after this, Campbell became mad, and died within a year. 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 261 
 
 ruined bis credit with the king ; and the freedom he used in reproving 
 him for his vices, quickly alienated James from him ; upon which he 
 withdrew into England, and wrote to the king, taxing the clergy for 
 their cruelty, and praying him to restrain it. 
 
 Martyrdom of six Persons. 
 
 In 1543, the archbishop of St. Andrew's, making a visitation into 
 various parts of his diocese, several persons were accused at Perth of 
 heresy. Among these the six following were condemned to die : Wil- 
 liam Anderson, Robert Lamb, James Finlayson, James Hunter, James 
 Raveleson, and Helen Stark. 
 
 The accusations laid against them were to the following effect : 
 
 The four first were accused of having hung up the image of St. 
 Francis, nailing rams' horns on his head, and fastening a cow's tail 
 to his rump ; but the principal matter on which they were condemned 
 was, having regaled themselves with a goose on Allhallows eve, a fast 
 day, according to the Romish superstition. 
 
 James Raveleson was accused of having ornamented his house with 
 the three crowned diadem of Peter, carved in wood, which the arch- 
 bishop conceived to be done in mockery to his cardinal's hat. 
 
 Helen Stark was accused of not having accustomed herself to pray 
 to the Virgin Mary, more especially during the time she was in child- 
 bed. 
 
 On these accusations they were all found guilty, and immediately 
 received sentence of death ; the four men for eating the goose to be 
 hanged ; James Raveleson to be burnt ; and the woman, with her 
 sucking infant, to be put into a sack, and drowned. 
 
 The four men, with the woman and child, suffered at the same time ; 
 but .lames Raveleson was not executed till some days after. 
 
 On the day appointed for the execution of the former, they were all 
 conducted, under a proper guard, to the place where they were to suf- 
 fer, and were attended by a prodigious number of spectators. 
 
 As soon as they arrived at the place of execution, they all fervently 
 prayed for some time ; after which Robert Lamb addressed himself to 
 the spectators, exhorting them to fear God, and to quit the practice of 
 papistical abominations. 
 
 The four men were all hanged on the same gibbet ; and the woman, 
 with her sucking child, were conducted to a river adjoining, when, 
 being fastened in a large sack, they were thrown into it, and drowned. 
 
 They all suffered their fate with becoming fortitude and resignation, 
 committing their departing spirits to that Redeemer who was to be 
 their final judge, and who, they had reason to hope, would usher 
 them into the real^^s of everlasting bliss. 
 
 When we reflect on the sufferings of these unhappy persons, we 
 are naturally induced, both as men and Christians, to lament their fate, 
 and to express our feelings by dropping the tear of commiseration. 
 The putting to death four men, for little other reason than that of sa- 
 tisfying nature with an article sent by Providence for that very pur- 
 pose, merely because it was on a day prohibited by ridiculous bigotry 
 and superstition, is shocking indeed ; but the fate of the innocent wo- 
 man, and her still more harmless infant, makes human nature tremble 
 at the contemplation of what mankind may become, when incited by 
 bigotry to the gratification of the most diabolical cruelty. 
 
268 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Besides the above mentioned persons, many others were cruelly 
 persecuted during the archbishop's stay at Perth, some being banished^ 
 and others confined in loathsome dungeons. In particular, John 
 Rogers, a pious and learned man, was, by the archbishop's orders,, 
 murdered in prison, and his body thrown over the walls info the street ; 
 after which the archbishop caused a report to be spread, that he had 
 met with his death in an attempt to make his escape. 
 
 Within a few years after the death of Patrick Hamilton, several 
 others suflered for preaching and maintaining the doctrines of that 
 truly pious man ; among these, none were more distinguished than 
 Mr. George Wishart. 
 
 hifei Sufferings, and Martyrdom of George Wishart. , 
 
 Mr. George Wishart was born in Scotland, and after receiving -a 
 grammatical education at a private school, he left that place, and 
 finished his studies at the university at Cambridge. 
 
 The following character of him, during his residence at that univer- 
 sity, was written by one of his scholars, and contains so just a picture 
 of this excellent man, that we give it at length. 
 
 " About the year of our Lord 1543, there was in the university of 
 Cambridge one Mr. George Wishart, commonly called Mr. George of 
 Bennet's college, who was a man of tall stature, bald-headed, and ort 
 the same wore a round French cap ; judged to be of melancholy com 
 plfexion by his physiognomy, black-haired, long-bearded, comely of 
 personage, v/ell spoken after his country of Scotland, courteous, lowly, 
 lovely, glad to teach, desirous to learn, and was v/ell travelled : having 
 on him for his habit of clothing, never but a mantle of frieze down to 
 the shoes, a black millian fustian doublet, and plain black hose, coarse 
 new canvass for his shirts, and white falling bands and cuffs at his 
 hands. All the which apparel he gave to the poor, some weekly^ 
 some monthly, some quarterly, as he liked, saving his French cap, 
 which he kept the whole year of my being with him. 
 
 "He was a man modest, temperate, fearing God, hating covetous- 
 ness ; for his charity had never end, night, noon, nor day ; he forbear 
 one meal in three, one day in four, for the most part, except some- 
 thing to comfort nature. He lay hard, upon a puff of straw, and coarse 
 new canvass sheets, which when he changed he gave away. He had 
 commonly by his bed-side a tub of water, in the which (his people 
 being in bed, the candle put out and all quiet) he used to bathe him- 
 s'^lf, as I being very young, being assured, often heard him, and in 
 one light night discerned him. He loved me tenderly, and I him, for 
 my age, as effectually. He taught with great modesty and gravity, 
 so that some of his people thought him severe, and would have slain 
 him, but the Lord was his defence. And he, after due correction for 
 their malice, by good exhortation amended them and went his way. 
 O that the Lord had left him to me his poor boy, that he might have 
 fehished that he bad begun ! for in his religion he was as you see here 
 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 the 
 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. ggg 
 
 poor, in giving, relieving, cai-ing, 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 %vhole heart, and truth, of this godly man. 
 He that made all, govei-neth all, and shall judge all, knowelh that I 
 speak the truth, that the simple may be satisfied, the arrogant con- 
 foimded, the hypocrite disclosed. Emery Tylney." 
 
 In order to improve himself as much as possible in the knowledge 
 of literature, he travelled into various foreign coimtries, 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 own country, he 
 left Cambridge in 1544, and in his way to Scotland preached in most 
 of the principal tOAvns, to the great satisfaction of his hearers. 
 
 On his arrival in his native lUnd, 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 suffer 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, v/ho 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 having *^' : 
 church to preach in himself. Some opposed this ; but Wisha? : said, 
 " Let him alone, his sermon will not do much hurt ; let us go to the 
 
270 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 market-cross." This was agreed to, and Wishart preached a sermon 
 that gave universal 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 *he 
 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 words, 
 " 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 rejectien 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 
 forted 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, where 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 iove to the bodies, as well as to the souls, of those poor 
 afflicted people, Cardinal Beaton engaged a desperate popish priest, 
 called John Weighton, to kill him ; the attempt to execute which was 
 as follows : One day, after Wishart had finished 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 
 immediately clapping his hand upon the dagger, took it from him. 
 
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, by 
 teaching m€ 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 
 femiliar 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 ; lam 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 will 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 Goury. 
 In the middle of the night Yie 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 ail, 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, saitl, " 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 
 when the battle waxeth 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 suffer 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 when 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 differ from a dead man? Hitherto God hath 
 used my labours for the instruction of others, and to the disclosing oi 
 darkness ; and now I lurk as a man ashamed to show his face." His 
 friends "perceived that his desire was to preach, Avhereupon 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 cluirck door, whispered to such as came in ; 
 which Wishart observing, said to the people, " I pray you make 
 room for these two m^n, it may be they com.e 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 damxation ;" after which he proceeded in his sermon, supposing 
 'that they would be quiet ; but when he oercj^ived that they still con- 
 tinued to disturb the people who stood^^Jrear 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 shall 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 folloAved by a great concourse 
 of people. He preached also in many 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 
 was 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 cf 
 the west have sent me word, that they cannot keep their meeting at 
 Edinburgh." 
 
 Knox, wondei-insr he should enter into conference about tlsesf. 
 
Persecutions in Piedmont. Page 170. 
 
 ffenty IV. waiting for- admission to Pope Gregory. Page 188. 
 
 Pope Alexander treading on the neck of the Emperor Freder 
 ick. Page 189. 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 273 
 
 ihings, immediately before his sermon, contrary to his usual custom 
 «aid 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 messenger 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 fire 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, nor 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 Avithin a mile, with a great power ; but if he would 
 deliver Wishart to him, he would promise, upon his honour, that ic 
 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, Wishart 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 suffer 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 to Wishart, prevailed on the 
 earl (notwithstanding the promises he had made) to commit him a 
 prisoner to the castle. 
 
 35 
 
274 BOOK OF MARTYRS. ^ 
 
 The 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. 
 
 The inveterate and persecuting prelate, having now got our martyr 
 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 ; for 
 as to himself, he would not consent to his death before the cause was 
 very Avell examined ; and if the cardinal should do otherwise, he 
 would make protestation, that the blood of this man should be re- 
 quired at his hands." 
 
 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 that 
 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 : 
 
 That 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 the Lord ; had preached against confession to a 
 priest ; had denied transubstantiation and the necessity of extreme 
 unction ; would not admit the authority of the pope or the councils ; 
 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. 375 
 
 On this, Mr. Wishart fell on his knees, and after making a prayer 
 to God, tluis 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 enlightend 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 
 mwtyr fell on his knees, and thus exclaimed : 
 
 " O immortal God, how long wilt thou suffer the rage, and great 
 cruelty of the ungodly, 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 
 suffer, for thy name's sake, persecutions, afflictions, and troubles, in 
 this present woi-ld ; 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 
 officers 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-prior, 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 ; v/ho bringing with 
 them some bread and wine, asked him if he would eat and drink with 
 them. "Yes," said Wishart, " very willingly, 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 sufl^erings, 
 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 
 thanks 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 
 
376 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 were 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 
 haeds 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 
 knees before him, and said, " Sir, I pray you forgive me, for I am 
 not th 5 cause of your death." 
 
 In roturn 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 ; my 
 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 ofiences. 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 down 
 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 suflferings, 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 fatal 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 other 
 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 to^f n was at his devotion, 
 and the neighbouring country full of his dependants. However, the 
 conspirators, who were in numbej' only sixteen, having concerted 
 their plan, met together early in the morning, on Saturday the 20th 
 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 
 
278 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 then sent four of their party to watch the cardinal's chamber, that he 
 might have 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. 
 
 AH this was done with so little noise, that the cardinal was not 
 waked till they knocked at his chamber door ; upon which he cried 
 out, " Who is there ?" John Lesley answered, " My name is Les- 
 ley." " Which Lesley?" inquired the 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 haly 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 
 abilities, 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 seve-rity 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 des-truction." 
 
 The death of Cardinal Beaton, for a short time, gave new spirits to 
 the reformed in all parts of Scotland ; but their pleasing expectatiojos 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 279' 
 
 were damped, when they discovered the disposition of his successor, 
 John Hamilton, 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 Avho favoured the reformed doctrine were imprison- 
 ed by him ; others were banished, and some suffered 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 Christ himself maintained it, 
 and 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. The 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 bap'tism, and take you the 
 rest, and part them among you. For if there be seven, why 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 
 when 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 offered again, for then he ended all sacrifices. 
 
 Oliphant. Thou deniest the office of a bishop. 
 
 Mille. I affirm that they, whom ye call bishops, do no bishops' 
 works ; nor use the office of bishop, as Paul biddeth, writing to Timo- 
 
280 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 thy, 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 spakest against pilgrimage, and calledst it a pil- 
 grimage to whoredom. 
 
 Mille. I 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. 
 
 Oliphant. 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 with 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 
 acknowledge 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 ; which, as I received 
 it from him, so I 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 universal esteem in which 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 next morning, when they were reduced to the neces- 
 sity of using the cords belonging to the archbishop's pavilion. 
 
 The death of Walter Mille proved the overthrow of popery in Scot 
 
PERSECUTIONS IN fciCOTLAND. 2S1 
 
 land. The clergy were so sensible that their affairs were falling 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 1 st 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 
 was over, some godly persons remained in the church, when 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 were several of the nobility, 
 particularly the earl of Argyle, the Lord James Stewart, the earl of 
 Glencairn, &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. 
 
 36 
 
382 BOOlP*OP MARTYRS. 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 PROGRESS 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 on 
 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. 
 Cheke ; 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 Canterbury, 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 natiire of ihe gos- 
 pel covenant. 
 
 About the same time, orders Avere 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 
 Itearned 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, preaching and catechising were also 
 to be more frequent, and the clergy were to be exhorted to be more 
 exemplary in their lives. 
 
 Next, the Liturgy was 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-two 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 prospects 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 ineffectual. There was a suspicion 
 over all Europe, that he was poisoned ; but no certain grounds ap- 
 pear for justifying it. 
 
 During his sickness, Ridley preached before him, and among other 
 things spoke much on works of charity, and the duty of men of high 
 condition, to be en-iinent 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 Avilfully 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 the 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 OF MARTYRS. 
 
 The king bore his sickness with great submission to the will of 
 God, and seemed concerned in nothing so much as 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 affairs, resolved to improve the 
 fears the king was 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, which 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 onTy 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 when 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. At 
 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, that God would preserve Eng- 
 
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 
 
 285 
 
 land from popery, and maintain his true religion among them. The 
 last words 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 bishop" ' ^ 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 OP 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 went to Lady Jane, and 
 ackojowledged 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 father's weak- 
 ness, ruined her. 
 
 She rejected the crown, when it was first offered her ; she said, she 
 knew that of right it belonged to the late king's sisters, and therefore 
 could not with a good conscience assume it ; but she was told, that 
 both the judges and privy counsellors had declared, that it fell to her 
 according to law. This, joined with the importunities of her hus- 
 band, her father, and father-in-law, made her submit. — Upon this, 
 twenty-one privy counsellors set their hands to a letter to Mary, telling 
 her that Queen Jane was now their sovereign, and that as the mar- 
 riage' between her father and mother had been declared null, so she 
 could not succeed to the crown ; they therefore required her to lay 
 down her pretensions, and to submit to the settlement now made; and 
 if she gave a ready obedience, promised her much favour. The day 
 after this they proclaimed Jane. 
 
 Northumberland's known enmity to the late duke of Somerset, and 
 the suspicions of his being the author of Edward's untimely death, be- 
 got a great aversion in the people to him and his family, and disposed 
 them to favour Mary; who, in the mean time, was very active in rais- 
 ing forces to support her claim. To attach the protestants to her 
 cause, she promised not to make any change in the reformed worship, 
 as established under her brother ; and on this assurance a large body 
 of the men of Suffolk joined her standard. 
 
 Northumberland was now perplexed between his wish to assume the 
 command of an army raised to oppose Mary, and his fear of leaving 
 London to the government of the council, of whose fidelity he enter- 
 tained great doubts. He was, however, at length obliged to adopt the 
 latter course, and before his departure from the metropohs, he adjured 
 the members of the council, and all persons in authority, to be stead- 
 fast in their attachment to the cause of Queen Jane, on whose suc- 
 
 * The Lady Jane was daughter to the duke of Suifolk, and grand-daughter to Mary, 
 sister to Henry VIII. who, on the death of her first husband, the king of France, mar- 
 ried Charles Brandon, afterwards created dulcc of Suffolk. 
 
ACCESSION OF MAKY. 287 
 
 cess, he assured them, depended the continuance of the protestant re- 
 ligion in England. They promised all he required, and he departed, 
 encouraged by their protestations and apparent zeal. 
 
 Mary's party in the mean time continued daily to augment. Hast- 
 ings went over to her with 4000 men out of Buckinghamshire, and 
 she was proclaimed queen in many places. At length the privy 
 council began to see their danger, and to think how to avoid it ; and 
 besides fears for their personal safety, other motives operated with 
 many of the members. To make their escape from the tower, where 
 they were detained, ostensibly to give dignity to the court of Queen 
 Jane, but really as prisoners, they pretended it was necessary to give 
 an audience to the foreign ambassadors, who would not meet them in 
 the tower ; and the earl of Pembroke's house was appointed for the 
 audience. 
 
 "When they met there they resolved to declare for Queen Mary, and 
 rid themselves of Northumberland's yoke, which they knew they must 
 bear, if he were victorious. They sent for the lord mayor and alder- 
 men, and easily gained their concurrence ; and Mary was proclaimed 
 queen on the 19th of July. They then sent to the tower, rdquirmg 
 the duke of Suffolk to quit the government of that place, and the Lady 
 Jane to lay down the title of queen. To this^he submitted with much 
 greatness of mind, and her father with abjectness. 
 
 The council next sent orders to Northumberland to dismiss his 
 forces, and to obey the queen. When Northumberland heard this, 
 he disbanded his forces, went to the market-place at Cambridge, where 
 he then was, and proclaimed Mary as queen. The earl of Arundel 
 was sent to apprehend him, and when Northumberland was brought 
 before him, he, in the most servile manner, fell at his feet to beg his 
 favour. He, with three of his sons, and Sir Thomas Palmer, (his 
 wicked tool in the destruction of the duke of Somerset,) were all sent 
 to the tower. 
 
 Every one now flocked to implore the queen's favour, and Ridley 
 among the rest, but he was committed to the tower ; the queen be- 
 ing resolved to put Bonner again in the see of London. Some of the 
 judges, and several noblemen, were also sent thither, among the rest 
 the duke of Suffolk ; who was, however, three days after set at liber- 
 ty. He was a weak man, could do little harm, and was consequently 
 selected as the first person towards whom the queen should exert her 
 clemency. 
 
 Mary came to London on the 3d of August, and on the way was met 
 by her sister. Lady Elizabeth, with a thousand horse, whom she had 
 raised to assist the queen. On arriving at the tower, she liberated 
 the duke of Norfolk, the dutchess of Somerset, and Gardiner ; also the 
 Lord Courtney, son to the marquis of Exeter, who had been kept there 
 ever since his father's attainder, and whom she now made earl of 
 Devonshire. 
 
 Thus was seated on the throne of England the Lady Mary, who, to 
 a disagreeable person and weak mind, united bigotry, superstition, and 
 cruelty. She seems to have inherited more of her mother's than her 
 father's qualities. Henry was impatient, rough, and ungovernable ; 
 but Catherine, while she assumed the character of a saint, harboured 
 inexorable rancour and hatred against the protestants. It was the 
 same with her daugnici Msry. as appears from a letter in her own 
 
288 BOOK OF MAHTYK«, 
 
 handwriting, now in the British Museum. In this letter, which is ad- 
 dressed to Bishop Gardiner, she declares her fixed intention of burn- 
 ing every protestant ; and there is an insinuation, that as soon as cir- 
 cumstances would i^ermit, she would restore back to the church the 
 lands that had been taken from the convents. This was the greatest 
 instance of her weakness that she could show : for, in the first place, 
 the convents had been all demolished, except a few of their churches ; 
 and the rents were in the hands of the first nobility, who, rather than 
 part with them, would have overturned the government both in church 
 and state. 
 
 Mary was crowned at Westminster in the usual form ; but dreadful 
 were the consequences that followed. The narrowness of spirit 
 which always distinguishes a weak mind from one that has been en- 
 larged by education, pervaded all the actions of this princess. Un- 
 acquainted with the constitution of the country, and a slave to super 
 stition, she thought to domineer over the rights of private judgment, 
 and trample on the privileges of mankind. 
 
 The first exertion of her regal power was to wreak her vengeance 
 upon all those who had supported the title of Lady Jane Grey. 
 
 The first of these w^as the duke of Northumberland, whxj was be- 
 headed on Tower Hill, and who, in consequence of his crimes, arising 
 from ambition, died unpitied ; nay, he was even taunted on the scaf- 
 fold by the spectators, who knew in what manner he had acted to the 
 good duke of Somerset. 
 
 The other executions that followed were numerous indeed, but as 
 they were all upon the statute of high -treason, they cannot, with any 
 degree of propriety, be applied to protestants, or, as they were cal'ed, 
 heretics. The parliament was pliant enough to comply with all the 
 queen's requests, and an act passed to establish the popish religion. 
 This was what the queen waited for, and power being now put into 
 her hands, she was determined to exercise it in the most arbitrary 
 manner. She was destitute of human compassion, and without the 
 least reluctance could tyrannize over the consciences of men. 
 
 This leads us to the conclusion of the first year of her reign; and 
 we consider it the more necessary to take notice of these transactions, 
 although not, strictly speaking, martyrdoms, that our readers might be 
 convinced of the great difference there is between dying for religion, 
 and for high treason. It is history alone that can teach them such 
 things, and it is reflection only that can make history useful. We 
 frequently read without reflection, and study without consideration ; 
 but the following portions of history, in particular, will furnish ample 
 materials for serious thought to our readers, and Ave entreat their atten- 
 tion to them. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 MARTYRDOMS IN THE SECOND YEAR OF QUEEN MARY's REIGN. 
 
 The queen having satiated her malice upon those persons who had 
 adhered to Lady Jane Grey, she had next recourse to those old auxi- 
 liaries of popery, fire, fagot, ai>d the stake, in order to convert her 
 heretical subjects to the true catholic faith. 
 
REV. JOHN ROGERS. 289 
 
 Martyrdom of the Rev. John Rogers. 
 
 Mr. John Rogers, the aged minister of St. Sepulchre's church, 
 Snow Hill, London, was the proto-martyr ; he was the first sacrifice, 
 strictly speaking, ofl^ered up in this reign to popery, and led the way 
 for 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 Avas 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 taa 
 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 was 
 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 protes- 
 tant religion. 
 
 For this sermon he was 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 tli« 
 queen; and Mr. Rogers' zeal against popery being equal to his 
 knowledge and integrity, he was considered as a person who would 
 prevent 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. Rogers, 
 that he was again dismissed, but was commanded not to go out of his 
 own house. This order he complied with, although he might have 
 made his escape if he would. He knew he could have had a 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 New- 
 gate, where he was lodged among thieves and murderers. 
 
 He was afterwards brought a tliird time before the council, where 
 Gardiner, bishop of Winchestei^ presided. It was not with any view 
 of showing lenity to the prisoiier ; 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 comj^y 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 
 
 37 
 
290 BOOK OF MAitTYRS. 
 
 He made a most elaborate defence, which, however, did not avail 
 him in 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 6xam-ina-- 
 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 Smithfield. This 
 sentence did not in the least frighten our martyr, who by faith 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, " That what 
 he had preached he would seal Avith his blood." "Then," said the 
 sheriff, " thou art a heretic." To which Mr. Rogers answered, " That 
 will be known Avhen 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. The 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 own 
 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 consumred to ashes. 
 
 He was a very pious and humane man, and his being singled out 
 as the first victim of superstitious cruelty, can only entitle him to » 
 higher crown of glory in heaven. 
 
 Martyrdom of Lmirence 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 learning 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 'V^illiam 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. 2C)| 
 
 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 was 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 respect : for such was his sweetness of 
 temper, his knowledge in his profession, his eloquent manner of ad- 
 dressing 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 h(3 had taken possession of it, he went down to the country, to 
 part, in an affectionate manner, with his friends. 
 
 While he was in the country King Edward died, and Mary succeed- 
 ing, published 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, Avho asked him where he was going ? Mr. 
 Saunders said, to his living in Bread-streed, to instruct his 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 Avill be upon my con- 
 science, as an unfaithful shepherd, an unjust steward !" 
 
 Mordant asked whether he did not frequently preach in Bread- 
 
BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 street ; and being answered in the affirmative, he endeavoured to dis- 
 suade him from doing so any more. Saunders, however, was reso- 
 lute, 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 Sunday 
 
 In the mean time Saunders went to his lodgings, vnih 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 theiaity, and filled the 
 nation with bastards, who were left exposed to all sorts of hardships. 
 
 After all these afflictions 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 Avas 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. Samiders 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. Saimders, 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 foi", 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 would par- 
 don him. To this Mr. Saunders answered, " That he had not filled 
 the realm with heresy, for he had taught 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 power, working 
 through faith in the hearts of those who are punished for the truth. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 SUFFERINGS AND MARTYRDOM 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 gracious 
 Being, for whose name's sake he suffered, supported him under all 
 his tfflictions. 
 
 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, for some time, an ornament to the uni- 
 versity. 
 
 His spirit was fervent, and he hated every thing in religion that 
 was not of an essential nature. When the six articles were published, 
 Hooper did all he coidd 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 VIII. 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 Paiis, 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 afterwards 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 VIII. amongst other exiles that returned was Mr. Hooper. In 
 the most grateful manner he returned thanks to all his fiiends 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 die 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 
 times. 
 
 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 sufficient matter for reproof. 
 
 In his doctrine, Hooper was clear, plain, eloquent, and persuasive, 
 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, Avere using every means in their power- 
 to make them acquainted with the principles of the Christian religion. 
 In this pious undertaking, iio 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 n.ade him bishop of Gloucester, by letters-patent 
 under the great seal ; having at the same time the c^re 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 unwearied 
 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 ojLir 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 OP MARTYRS. 
 
 when they had 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 was 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 suffer him to plead his cause, but deprived hirn of 
 his bishopric. 
 
 Being asked whether he was 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, which 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 wa»3 
 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 protostant 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, which the war- 
 den granted him for five pounds sterling ; but went 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 aflbrds a picture of popish barbarity, 
 which cannot fail to make a due 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 within 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 the means of a good gentlewoman, I had liberty to come 
 down to dinner and supper, not suffered to speak with any of my 
 friends, but as soon as dinner and supper were done, to repair to my 
 chamber agaiii. Notwithstanding, whilst I came down thus to dinner 
 and supper, the warden and his wife picked quarrels with m.e^ and com- 
 plained untruly of me to their great friend, the bishop of Winchester. 
 
 "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, haying 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 
 stmking, 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 hovise, and on the 
 other the town ditch, so that the stench of the, house hath infected nie 
 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 warden, 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 svas 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 letteys,, 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 StepheQ; Gardiner, God's 
 enemy and mine. 
 
 " I have suffered 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, wliereby 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 the pope was the head of the church, so it was breakiiig through 
 
 38 
 
298 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 her unity to separate from her. He promised to procure him tne 
 pope's absohition 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 there 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 examined, and was again asked whether or not he would re- 
 cant ; but nothing could shake his constancy. - 
 
 On Mondaj^ 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 tim.e of 
 Cjonstantine 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 oflicers 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 HOOPEE. 299 
 
 ^^aoc. Willi leuis, ana oeggeu iiis pafuOii iOr iiic Uiaimer iii wiiicli 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 Ingrj^m, 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 sufficient 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 meeknes^3. 
 
 The time appointed for the execution of this pious bishop drawing 
 nigh, he was delivered to the sheriffs of Gloucester, who, with the 
 mayor and alderm.en, 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 condemm- 
 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 v/ouJd make the fire as violent as pos- 
 sible, that his pains might be of the lihorter 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 consdence. He said, he 
 knew the bishop of Rome was antichrist, and therefore he could not 
 be obedient to him.. He desired they would not deny his request^ but 
 let him suffer as soon as possible, -without exercising any unnecef; «->' 
 cruelty, which was unbecoming the dignity of men vi lionour. 
 
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 rnost excruciating tortures. 
 
 When Bishop Hooper arose in the morning, he desired that no 
 person whatever should disturb him in his devotion, till the officers 
 carne 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, lie 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 
 [^milingly to a place where he used formerly to preach. He then 
 kneeled down to pray, and beckoned several tirnes 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 gardon, 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 thisj a pound of gunpowder was placed between his legs, and 
 the same quantity under each arm; three chains were then fixed 
 round him, 6ne to his neck, another to his middle, and a third to "his 
 legs ; and with these he was fastened to the stake. 
 
 This being done, fii'e was put to the fagots ; but they being green, 
 he suffered inexpressible torment. Soon after this, a load of drv 
 
DR. ROWLAND TAYLOR. 301 
 
 (agots 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 eff*ect, 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 words were, " Lord 
 Jesus have mercy upoii 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 Sufiblk. 
 which was one of the first places in England that received the gos- 
 pel 5 and here he preached constantly during the reigtr 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 was a life of holiness : he studied 
 nothing so much as to do good ; was a stranger to pride ; and was 
 clothed with 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 was a god-like disposition, and the characteristic of a true 
 Christian. 
 
 In the course of his ministerial labours he often met with opposi- 
 tion, and even with abuse ; but he attended to the maxim laid down 
 by the apostle, that we must go through evil, as well as through good 
 report. He was a married man, but never sat down to dinner with 
 his family, without first inquiring whether the poor wanted any thing. 
 To those who were distressed, he gave relief before he ate any thing 
 himself. He familiarized himself with 'all ranks of men, in order 
 that he might win them to the knowledge and practice of the truth. 
 He was an indulgent, tender, aflfectionate husband, and brought up 
 his children in the fear of God, well knowing, that to lay a good 
 foundation is the only way 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 was 
 that pious monarch dead, than aflairs 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 v/ith 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 was, 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 Avas 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 
 knoAv 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, with 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 affair, 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 caxise of God, than to 
 flee from the wrath of wicked men. " God," said he, " will either 
 protect me from sufferings, 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, the)"- 
 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 manner he exhorted John to be constant in the pro- 
 fession of Christianity, and not to return to popery. He said, that 
 worldly wisdom was apt to take too deep a root in our hearts, and that 
 
DR. ROWLAND TAYLOR. 3O3 
 
 it was, therefore, our duty to do all we could to triumph over the 
 world, the flesh, 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 render 
 ourselves worthy of heaven ; to fear God more than men ; to believe 
 that he will sweeten all our suflTerings, by the influencie 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 diflerent 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 jjeen extorted, 
 90 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 has been weak 
 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 M^ould have 
 been the loss of his bishopric. And surely he who pays the least re- 
 gard to iha 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 wHh a sacred obligation ; that no 
 man whatever 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 commande^l his fol- 
 lowers to keep the feast of the eucharist, in re^menibrance 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 world. 
 
 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," he 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 stale of glory in heaven ; and how theji 
 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 fn exhorting the poor 
 prisoners, confined with him, to a sense of their duty. This was the 
 more necessary, as the people at that time were extremely ignorant ; 
 light indeed Avas 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 was 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. ? 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 
 
DR. ROWLAND TAYLOR. 305 
 
 were not prohibited from it. Ashe was a learned civiUan and ca- 
 nonist, he proved from the Justinian institutions, that all oaths of ce- 
 libacy were then condenined, 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 
 in 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 Avith Mr. Saunders, whose martyrdom we have already descri- 
 bed, 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^vould 
 abide by these sentijnents 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- 
 vourite 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 Southwark, called the Clink, where 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, 
 bishop of London, with others, came to the said Compter to degrade 
 him, bringing with 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 cinse 
 upon Dr. Taylor ; to which the doctor answered, " You may curse 
 as 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 ; Avhereas 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 afiaid ; " for," said he, " his 
 chaplain advised him not to strike me, lest I should strike him again, 
 which I made him believe I would, although I never intended to do 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. 
 
 39 
 
306 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 The night after he was degraded, his wife, with his son Thomas, 
 came 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 were 
 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 truth, 
 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 life long ; 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 years, 
 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 you, 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 ov.t 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 whry attends to the conduct of this dying martyr, will 
 find that there is 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 sufferings, 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 shoAved 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 ofticers, 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 with 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 sheriffj 
 seeing Mrs. Taylor, told her that she must not r.peak to her husband ; 
 but that she might go to his 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 officer^ 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 1 
 
 Dr. Taylor reriiained at the Woolpack till eleven in the forenoon, 
 when the s^^onff of Essex came to receive him, and they prepared 
 to set out on horseback. As they came out of the gate of the inn, 
 John Hull, his old servant, whom we have mentioned before, was 
 there m 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 vip 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 of 
 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 Chelixisford 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 Avould 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 TOMKTNS. 
 
 309 
 
 man nature might, at first, shudder, 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 frorh his face, that he might be seen by the nume- 
 rous spectators, many of whom had fbrmerly been his parishioners. 
 He then began to speak to the people who were praying for him ; but 
 the ofiicers 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 sometliing 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 diiTer from them, 
 " even as the hart doth for the water brooks." 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 MARTYRDOMS OF NtJMEROtJS 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 him 
 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. 
 
SIO BOOK OF MARTYRB. 
 
 Another instance of this cruel bishopi^inhumanity to Mr. Tomkins, 
 was exhibited before several gentlemen who came to visit him. The 
 bishop, finding him inflexible, took hold of him by the wrist, and held 
 Ms 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 vi^ater issuing from the hand, 
 flew into the face of a bystander, who was so affected that he re- 
 quested the bishop to forbear, "feaying, 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 immediately 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 pathi of the fiery trial to the realms of im- 
 mortal glory. ♦ 
 
 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, when 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 clad him, saying, "Sirrah, who gave thee leave to read the 
 Bible, and expound 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 presence in the sacrament, he replied, that he esteemed the bread 
 and wine but as figures, and looked upon the sacrament as an institu- 
 tion in remembrance of the death and sufferings of our Lord and 
 Saviour, Jesus Christ. On this the priest openly declared him & 
 heretic, 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. The 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 to 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 imprison. 
 
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, 
 who 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, 
 tui'ned 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 fartlier 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 BrentAvood ; " 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 would 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 
 to Brentwood, where he Avas confined in an inn till the day of his 
 execution. Dining this time he was visited by many of his neigh 
 
PIGOT, KNIGHT, AND LAWRENCE. 313 
 
 bours and acquaintances, all of whom he exhorted to beware of 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 him af the inn, 
 and encouraged him not to fear 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, with 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 p4ace 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 
 w^hich he #as 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 despatch ; pray for me, 
 while you see me alive, and I will pray for you." 
 
 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 partakers of their plagues." The priest cried out, " As 
 thou burnest here, so shalt thou burn in hell !" " Thou liest, thou 
 false prophet !" exclaimed Hunter ; " 9,wjay with thee !" 
 
 As soon as the fire v^as 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 v/ho gave it, 
 and in testimony of the truth of that God Avho 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 ; tlie 
 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 
 their faith of the corporeal presence in the sacrament. 
 
 40 
 
314 BOOK OP MARTYRS, 
 
 Having respectively answered and subscribed that the elements 
 were not substantially, but figuratively, 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 of 
 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 Figot and Knight, they were removed early in the morning 
 to the respective places destined for their execution, the former at 
 Braiutree, 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 wiJlingly 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 to obey men in breaking thy holy commandment; thou seest, 
 O Lord, that where I might live in worldly wealth to worship a false 
 Ciod, and honour thine enemy, I choose rather the torment of tne 
 
DR. ROBERT FARRAR 
 
 315 
 
 body, and the loss of this life, and have counted 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 offering, O Lord, not for the 
 sacrifice, but for thy dear Son's sake, my Saviour, for whose testi- 
 mony I ofier this free-will ofl^ering, with all my heart, and with all my 
 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. 
 
 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 suftered 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 accession 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 VIII. ; 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 Avith 
 
31'6 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 few 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 few days after his commitment to that prison, he Avas 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 church. 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 previously 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. ^Tt 
 
 The following circumstance is a convincing proof what constancy 
 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 few 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 effects 
 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 ofKcers 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, Avho 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 hold fast to the truth. , At 
 length he was apprehended, by one of the officers of the town, 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 
 h*^ was visited by many, whom he instructed in the faith of Chriit, 
 
318 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 and exhorted to beware of popish emissaries, as wolves in sheep's 
 clothing. 
 
 After a long imprisonment, the bishop of LlandafFsummoned 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 laws 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- 
 vmced 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 of 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 he 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 which the priest held over his head. 
 
 Mass being performed, he was again warmly admonished to re- 
 cant, but all exhortatioti was ineffectual ; the bishop, therefore, read 
 
REV. GEORGE MARSH. 3I9 
 
 the definitive sentence, after which he was carried to Cardiff, 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 
 affecting 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 1 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 art mj 
 mother, to thee I must return." 
 
 When he was fastened to the stake, and the straw, reeds, and wood 
 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 o-pinion 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 s^irrounded by the flames, in 
 the midst of which this good old man (for he v/as sixty years of age) 
 held up his hands till the sinews shrunk, crying earnestly, " O Lord, 
 receive ntiy 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 rewarded 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 
 Chrie.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 wife, 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 Edwarti VI. But when popery 
 again raised its destructive head, he, among many others, became the 
 object of its persecution, as one that propagated dqctrines 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 oft" 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 length, 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 chargfd 
 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 our 
 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 thirs 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 mother-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 church," 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 I kn>. w not." 
 
 This resolute behaviour exposed him to the keenest resentment of 
 his popish persecutors, who committed him to prison, and suffered no 
 
REV. GEORGE MARSH. 32 j 
 
 .one to come near him but the keeper, who brought him daily the 
 scanty allowance of the place. 
 
 Various attempts were made,, during his confinement, to bring him 
 to a j-ecantation ; but as he still remained fixed andvdetermined 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 1 
 
 " 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 confession 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 w^s 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 htany 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 
 mayor, chancellor, and principal inhabitants of that city, both laity 
 
 41 
 
333 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 and clergy, he caused him to take a solemn oath, to answer truly to 
 such 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 served ; 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 Avas the true church, and 
 that the church of Rome is not the true Catholic church, he acknow 
 ledged the declaration, and ratified it by a repetition. 
 
 Several persons present taking occasion to ask him, as he denied 
 the bishop of Rome's authority in England, whether Linus, Anacle- 
 tus, and Clement, who were 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 doth 
 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 glacUy 
 yield in every point, declaring that he held no heretical opinion, but 
 utterly abhorred every kind of heresy ; and then called all present to 
 bear witness, that in the articles of religion he held no other opinion 
 than what was by law established, and publicly taught in England, in 
 the time of King Edward the Sixth ; and that, in such religion and 
 <ioctrine, 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 
 began to read his sentence of condemnation, but was interrupted by 
 the chancellor, in order to give him another opportunity of recanting. 
 
 He absolutely withstood the earnest entreaties of several people, 
 
REV. GEORGE MARSH. 
 
 323 
 
 tvho 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, which 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 them 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 puffed up, that those who stood before him could not see 
 the chain Avith which he was fastened. At length, with the utmost 
 fortitude, he spread forth his arm, and said, with 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- 
 licA^r, raising, by his patient resignation, the wonder and astonish- 
 ment of all that saw him suffer, 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 of 
 humanity. 
 
 Information being given against Margaret Polley, to Maurice, 
 bishop of Rochester, she was brought before him, when 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, and 
 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 answer 
 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 mainta:in 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 sins 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 of 
 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 wliich 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 
 with 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. $2$ 
 
 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 those 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 was removed from Ipswich to Norwich, where 
 Dr. Hopton, the persecuting bishop of that diocese, and Dunning, 
 his chancellor, exercised on him the most intolerable cruelties. 
 
 Among all the inhuman wretches with which the nation abounded 
 
326 BOOK OF MARTYRa 
 
 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 Aveight 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 hi^ 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 savages could invent 
 proved ineffectual, 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 hadbelongcd to his congregation, and received the benefit 
 of 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 Avith 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 
 Avhich he knelt down, and Avith an audible voice, said the folloAving 
 prayer : 
 
 " O Lord, my God and Saviour, who art Lord in heaven and earthy 
 maker of all things visible and invisible, I am the creature and Avork 
 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 laAV itself is noAv trodden under foot, and men's 
 inventions exalted above it; and for that cause do I, acid 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. 
 For, Lord, thou knoAvest, if Ave would but seem to please men in things 
 contrary to thy Avord, Ave might, by their permission, enjoy these ad- 
 vantages that others do, as Avife, children, goods, and friends, all 
 which I acknowledge to be thy gifts, given to the end I should serve 
 thee. And noAv, Lord, that the Avorld Avill not suffer me to enjoy 
 them, except I offend thy laAvs, behold I give unto thee my Avhole spirit, 
 soul, and body ; and lo, I leave here all the pleasures of this life, and 
 do now leave the use of them, for the hope's sake of eternal life, piir 
 
ALLEN, COB, AND COO. 327 
 
 chased in Christ's blood, and promised to all them that fight on ' iis 
 side, and are content to suffer 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 v/ith thee, in 
 comparison of our bodies mortified, and obedient unto thy will : and 
 now, Lord, whatsoever 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 when the time of resurrec- 
 tion Cometh, then let me enjoy again these 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 stake, the fagots were placed round him and immediately lighted. 
 He bore his sufferings with a courage and resolution truly Chris tiaja, 
 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 suffered, 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 gentleinan, 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 by 
 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 OF MARTYRS. 
 
 But the bishop would not hear that, but said, Coo, why will you 
 B( t receive ? 
 
 He answered him, That the bishop of Rome had changed God's 
 Qrdinaitces, 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 nie ? 
 
 Bishop. Do you not believe as your father did ? Was not he an 
 honest man? 
 
 Coo. It is written, 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 others also suffered about 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. 
 
 A.t 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, 
 where he continued ten days, though no misdemeanour was alleged 
 against him. ^ 
 
Barning of Dr. R. Furraj: pcige 315. 
 
 Martyrdom of Rawlins White. j^age 317. 
 
 BisJiop Tjaumer examined before a Popish Tribunal. P. 334. 
 
 ■% 
 
GLOVER AND BONGEY. 329. 
 
 \yhen the ten days were expired, in which he suffered great afflic- 
 tion from his illness, he was brought before the ordinary, the bishop 
 pf 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 
 paake 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 him 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 not known but in the time of 
 Edward VI. 
 
 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 aiflictions, 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 
 provfd 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- 
 g' 43 ' 
 
530 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 ranee 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 
 ih 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 Avas 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 30th of September, 1555, these two martyrs were led to 
 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 common 
 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 
 justice, was boimd over to appear at the ensuing sessions for the Isle 
 of Ely. But a few clays after, he was again taken into custody, and 
 committed to Wisbeach gaol, there to remain till the next assizes for 
 the county. h 
 
WOLSET 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 the kingdom of heaven before men ; ye yourselves go not in, 
 neither suffer 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 Avhen thou wilt ; and if thou 
 be complained upon, so far as I may, 1 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, Avho 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 «f 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 ofl5ce, I am come to talk with you, for I have been almo- 
 ner here these twenty years and more, wherefore, my brethren, I 
 
r>^^2 BOOK OF MARTYRS 
 
 desire you to take it iu good part. I desire not to force you fronv" 
 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 preserve 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 Wolsey 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 oi 
 Christ was not present in the said sacrament ; and te this opinion 
 they said they would stand, though at the peril 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 believed 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 Figot into com.pli^ 
 ance, desiring one of the attendants to write to the follov/ing purport: 
 
 " I, Robert Pigot, do believe, that after the words of consecration 
 spoken by the pi-iest, there remaineth 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 your 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 Octobei-, 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 tke 
 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 v/ere 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 lives, sufferings, and martyrdoms of hugh latimer, bishop 
 of worcester ; and nicholas ridley, bishop of london. 
 
 Hugh Latimer Avas 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 reJigion. 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 remarkable r 
 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 migh>, 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 I 
 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 which day, that 
 
^4 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 your grace may stand steadfastly, and not be ashamed, but be clear 
 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 the 
 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- 
 episcopal citation for his appearance in London. His friends would 
 have had him quit England ; but their persuasions were 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 canonis.ts 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 doctrine 
 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, shoidd 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 
 ans^ver 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 who were 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 princi|)les of the reformation, in which 
 he labouretl with the utmost pains and assiduity. All the historians 
 of those times mention him as a person remarkably zealous in the 
 dischrarge 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 wdth 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 summons to attend the parliament and con- 
 vocation, which gave him a further opportunity of promoting the work 
 of reformation, whereon 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 was 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 imconcern which a good conscience inspires, 
 " I never thought myself worthy," said he, " nor did I ever sue to be 
 a 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 
 to bea* their books after them. But if your grace allow me for a 
 
336 BOOK OF MARTYRS. - 
 
 preacher, I would desire you to give me leave to discharge my cou-f 
 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 
 ansvi^er baffled his accuser's malice ; the severity of the king's coun- 
 tenance changed into a gracious smile, and the bishop was 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, h,e thought it 
 rt^rong 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 dangeroiis, that he was . 
 obliged to seek for better assistance than could be aflprded 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 Tall 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 parlijiment, 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 office 
 he performed dtiring the first thi-ee 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. 
 
 HcAvas 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 known to be popishly inclined. The bishop of Win- 
 chester, who was now prime minister, having proscribed Mr. Latimer 
 
Burning- of Bi.'ih(ps Laiimer and Ridley, page 346. 
 
 Burial of a Protestant durHng- the time of Popish Per secvr- 
 Hon. page 349. 
 
 Archbishop Cranmer burnt. Page 390. 
 
LATIMER AND RIDLEY. 337 
 
 from the first, sent a message to cite him before the council. He had 
 notice of this design some hours before the messenger's arrival, but 
 he made no use of the intelligence. The messenger found him equip- 
 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 Smithfiekl, 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 of 
 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 of 
 Pembroke Hall, in that university. 
 
 After being some years in this ofiice, 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 VIII. and 
 .bishop of Rochester, from which he was translated to the see of Lon- 
 don by Edward VI. * 
 
 In private life he was pious, humane, and affable ; in public he was 
 learned, sound, and eloquent ; diligent in 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 hims^elf 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 aflairs 
 and business ; and to his sermons the people resorted, swarming about 
 him like bees, and so faithfully did his life portray his doctrines, that 
 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 was, also, wise of counsel, deep of wit, and very politic in all 
 his doings. He was anxious to gain the obstinate papists from their 
 
 43 
 
335 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 erroneous opinions, and sought by gentleness to win them to the truth, 
 as his gentle and courteous treatment of Dr. Heath, who was prisoner 
 with 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, he 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 would 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, with money, to learn by heart cer- 
 tain principal chapters, but especially the 13th chapter of the Acts ot 
 the Apostles, 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 own 
 mother, and he would never have her displaced fr,om her seat, although 
 the king's council had been present ; saying, when any of them were 
 
RIDLEY AND LATIMER. 
 
 there, (as several times they were,) By your lordship's favour, this 
 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 l 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 them in his house, showing much courtesy and friendship daily un- 
 to them ; while, on the other side, Bonner being restored again, 
 would not sutler 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 froin 
 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 Bocardo 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 on 
 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, 
 his legate, 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 Ridley 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 hini., 
 and his immediate and explicit answers required. 
 
 1. 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 the 
 Catholic faith, by the prolocutor of the convocation-house, and sun- 
 dry learned men of both universities. ^ 
 
S40 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 Xiincoln 
 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 artjjfles 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 sam.e, 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 will and desire." 
 
 Ridley not making any reply, sentence of condemnation was read ; 
 after which he was carried back to confinement. 
 
 When Latimer Avas 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 pronoimced 
 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 good. 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 I 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 
 bishop 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 will 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 
 -ao 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 content with 
 that, and more than that ; the servant is not above his master. If 
 they dealt so cruelly with 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 which words one Eldridge, the reader of the Greek lecture, 
 standing by, said, ' Sir, the law is that he should be gagged, 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 pope'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 preaching 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 will tia,ke from me that which I never had ' 
 
DEGRADATION OF RIDLEY. 343 
 
 " So when this ridiculous degradation was ended very solemnly, 
 Dr. Ridley said to Dr. Brooks, ' Have you done 1 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 we 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 patience ? 
 I 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 narne, 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 of you able to lay 
 to my charge any open or notorious crime ; for if you could, it would 
 surely be done, I 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 de- 
 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 erer 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 oiFered to stay all 
 night with him. But he said, ' No, no, that you shall not. For I 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 folns, 
 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 Avalked to the stake 
 between the mayor and an alderman, &c. 
 
 "After 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 the 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 quar- 
 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, Avho 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 whilst 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 m.artyr, 
 ' 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 w^ere then commanded 
 to prepare, immediately, for the stake. 
 
 "They according, with all meekness, obeyed. Dr. Ridley gave his 
 
 44 
 
346 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 gown and tippet to his brother-in-law, Mr. Shipside, who, all the time 
 of his imprisonment, although he was not suffered to come to him, 
 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 othei 
 of his apparel he also gave away, the others the bailiffs took. 
 
 " He likewise made presents of other small things to gentlemen 
 standing by, and divers of them pitifully weeping ; to Sir Henry Lea 
 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 inhistrouse, 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.r 
 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 tip his hand, and said, ' O Heavenly Father, I give 
 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 smith, 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 about his neck. 
 Dr. Ridley asked him what it was ; he answered, gunpowder. ' 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 do 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; ' I«ord, 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 vphich 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 imderstanding, 
 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 when 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 
 Avas 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, Avhen the busy world is at rest, constantly rising, at all 
 seasons of the year, by two in the morning. How conscientious he 
 was in the discharge of the public duties of his office, avc have many 
 
348 BOOK OP 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 onl} 
 useful learning ; and that he thought lay in a very narrow compass 
 He never engaged in worldly affairs, 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 his 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 immediately 
 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 apostolic 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 sufferer, Mr. Latimer. He was naturally of a 
 very easy temper, and distinguished for his great piety and humanity 
 to the distressed. He persevered, to the 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 vin. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS, DEATHS, AND MARTYRDOMS OF JOHN WEBB, GEORGE 
 ROPER, GREGORY PARKE, WILLIAM WISEMAN, JAMES GORE, AND JOHN 
 PHILPOT. 
 
 Martyrdoms of John Wehb, 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 of the Lord for his church ; and 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, where 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 was 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 his 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 
 time permitted more boldness unto him, it being the reign of King 
 EdAvard, 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 w^hich, notwithstanding the Hberty the house had promised before, 
 ,he was called to account befoi-e the chancellor, by whom he was first 
 examined. From thence again he was removed to Bishop Bonner, 
 and other commissioirers, 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 tJw Commissioners, 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, and 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 ? 
 
 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 Avith that he went into the 
 parlour, and I a little while after was called in. 
 
 The Scribe. Sir, what is your name ? 
 
 Philpot. My name 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 of 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, without any calling to answer before now, and my living taken 
 from 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 offended 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 ; how say est 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 against 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. I desire you, sir, with the rest here, tliat 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 wouIg 
 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 say est thou to the sacrament of the altar? 
 
352 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Philpot. I am not come now to dispute, and the time serve th 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 1 Let 
 him lie in the Lollard's tower ; for I will sweep the King's Bench 
 ind all other prisons also, of these heretics ; they shall not have tha 
 resort as they have had, to scatter their 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, w hich I cannot do ? 
 
 Roper. We do not require you to dissemble with us to be a catho- 
 lic 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 Avrong, 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. 
 
 Cook. 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 1 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 sajth he is a gentleman. 
 
 Story. A gentleman, said he ? he is a vile heretic knave : for a 
 
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, who offered me a bed for the night. I thanked 
 him, and said. That it would 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 Avriting 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 quiet 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 aAvay a great piece of his beard. 
 
 His examination before Bishop Bonner. 
 
 The second night of my imprisonment in his coal-house, the bishop 
 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 m.eat, 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 
 in him, and in all others ; and that I would not refuse his beneficence, 
 and therewith took the same unto my brethren. 
 
 Johnson. My lord would know the cause of your being scut hither, 
 (tor he is ignorant thereof,) and wondereth that he shoidd be troubled 
 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 will 
 was, I should have any friendship I would desire, and so departed. 
 
 Within a while after, one of my lord's gentlemen came for me ; 
 
 45 
 
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 peradventnre you have maintained the same 
 since, and some of your friends of late have asked, whether 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 was 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 ? 
 
 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'^ 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 am 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 churchJ 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 chanceth it, then, that you go out of the same, and 
 walk mrt with us ? 
 
JOHN PHILPOT, 
 
 355 
 
 Philpot. My lord, I am sure I am within the bounds of the churcc 
 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. 
 
 Bonner How can that be ? there is but one faith. 
 
 Philpotc I am assured of that by St. Paul, saying, " That there is 
 but one God, one faith, and one baptism," of which I am. 
 
 Bonner. 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 notthiiik that we have now the true faith ? 
 
 Philpot. I desire your lordship to hold me excused for answering 
 at this time. I am ^re 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 St. 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 cheerfully 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 with my poor archdeacon, and in the dinner time it 
 chanced us to have communication 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 
 
35€r BOOK OP 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 wisdom 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 sent hither 
 to me Avithout 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 Ave can for 
 ours, and prove by the scriptures that the church of Rome noAv is the 
 tnuj catliolic church, as in all sermons, Avritings, and arguments, 
 
JOHN PHILPOT. 357 
 
 you uphold ; and that 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 t>o interpret the scriptures as it seem- 
 eth good to her, and that all men are bound to follow sueh 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. 
 
 Bonner. I pray you, Mr. Philpot, what faith were you of twenty 
 years ago ? This man will 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 
 I 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 I 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 will 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 Irenseus, 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 Irensus 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 f die not in the true faith, I shall die everlastingly ; and again I 
 
 \ 
 
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 ? 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 she agreeth 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, son>e 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 sLuuld 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 sure 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 they 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 -o^ for 
 ^hame. 
 
JOHN PHILPOT. 359 
 
 Philpot. Sir, I am sure I have 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 ? 
 
 Philpot. 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 if 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 is 
 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 Ob' MARTYRS. 
 
 Philput. 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. 
 
 Phil-pot. 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. 
 
 Tlw 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 opce 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 sliould have as much favour as 
 I can show you, if you will be any tjiing 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 uncertain, 
 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 Peter's faith, where- 
 upon the Roman Catholic church is built, to have continued in his 
 successors at Rome, and at this present to remain.* 
 
 Bonner. Are there any more churches than one Catholic church? 
 And 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 ''.s 
 by the professors of popery ; — they rely upon the mere succession of bishops, as beiug 
 sufficient 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 considered as 
 the successors of the apostles, because they have usuijied tlie country sanctified by 
 the 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 tlie up- 
 holders of papacy and superstition. 
 
JDHN PHILPOT. 361 
 
 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 naen 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 6e." So that if you can be able to 
 prove that your faith and church hath been from the beginniftg 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 CHTJRCH, or CATHOLIC FAITH, is 9.S much as to say, 
 the first, whole, sound, or chief faith. 
 
 Bonner. Doth St. Austin say as he allegeth it? or doth he mean 
 as he taketh the same 1 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 ofi^ and let all alone. Do you think that the catholic church 
 (until within these few years, in wiiich 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 Irenseus (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 Irenseus make any more for the supremacy of 
 the bishop of Rome, than mine hath done, who have been at Rome as 
 well as he, and might have spoken with the pope if I had listed ; and 
 yet I would Yione 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, 
 (until these few years,) have taken him to be the supreme head of the 
 church, besides this good man Irenaeus. 
 
 Philpot. That is not likely that Irenseus so took him, or the primi- 
 tive church : for I am able to show seven general councils after Ire- 
 naeus' time, wherein he was never taken for supreme head. 
 
 46 
 
362 BOOK OP 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 which bringeth 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 Christ, as by Nicene, Ephesine, the first and second Chal- 
 eedon, 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 1 
 
 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. 1 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 with 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 Avhat 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 tlian brute 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. 
 
 363 
 
 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 jot 
 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. 
 
 Story. Do you not see the ignorance of this beastly heretic? he 
 willeth the word to be judged of the word. Can the word speak ? 
 ' 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 
 1 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 will never be confessed thereof. And because 
 I cannot now tarry to speak with my lord, I pray one of you to tell 
 my lord, ihat 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 ver};" gently. 
 
 Bonner. Philpot, if there be any pleasure I may show 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 7 Unable to offer a single argument, he overwhelms his victims with abuse, and 
 glories in having been an instrument of bringing many to the stake — ^that conclusive 
 reply with which the papists found xt so convenient to stop the mouths of those whose 
 doctrines they could not controvert, and which it is beUeved, they would now gladly 
 press into their service, were their ability equal to their desires. 
 
^4 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 ship, is to hasten my judgment which is committed unto you, and lb 
 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, before the Lord Chamberlain, the Bishop of 
 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 were 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 ; Avhere 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 with me this day, I thank 
 them for it, to hear you, and what you can say, that they may be 
 judges whether 1 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 I cannot btit com- 
 rhend 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 Avas 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 
 Avord 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 sa:me. 
 
 , Bonner. Mr. Philpot, I pray you, ere you go farther, tell my lord's 
 here plainly, whether you were by me, or by my procuren:ient, com- 
 mitted to prison or not, and whether I have showed you any cruelty 
 since you have been committed to my prison. 
 
JOHN PHILPOT. 3(}5 
 
 PhilpoL If it shall please your lordship to give me leave to de- 
 clare forth my matter, I will touch that a:fterward. 
 
 Lord Rich. Answer first of all to my lord's two questions, and 
 then proceed to the matter. How say you ? Were you imprisoned 
 by my lord, or not? Can you find any fault since with his cruel using 
 of you ? 
 
 PhilpoL 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, now 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 I 
 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- 
 ings ; and if in faith he will so do, with your lordships' consent, he 
 shall be released by and by ; if he will not, he shall liavc the extremity 
 of the law, and that shortly. ' 
 
366 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 Rich. How say you? will you acknowledge the real presence of 
 the body and blood of Christ, as all learned men of this realm do, in 
 the mass, and as I do, and will believe as long as I live, I do pro- 
 test it ? 
 
 Philpot. My lord, I do acknowledge in the sacrament of the body 
 and blood of Christ such a presence as the word of God doth allow 
 and teach me. 
 
 Rich. That shall be no otherwise than you like. 
 
 Bonner. A sacrament is the sign of a holy thing ; so that there is 
 both the sign which is the accident, (as the whiteness, roundness, and 
 shape of bread,) and there is also the thing itself, as very Christ, both 
 Cod and man. But these heretics will have the sacrament to be but 
 bare signs. How say you ? declare unto my lords here whether you 
 allow the thing itself in the sacrament, or no. 
 
 Philpot. I do confess, that in the Lord's supper there are, in due 
 respects, both the sign, and the thing signified, when it is duly admi- 
 nistered after the institution of Christ. 
 
 Rich. Show us what manner of presence you allow in the sacra- 
 ment. 
 
 Philpot. My lords, the reason that at first I have not plainly de- 
 clared my judgment unto you, is because I cannot speak without the 
 danger of my life. 
 
 Rich. There is none of us here who seek thy life, or mean to take 
 any advantage of that thou shall speak. 
 
 Philpot. Although I mistrust not your lordships that be here of the 
 temporality, yet here is one that sitteth against me, (pointing to the 
 lord of London,) that will lay it to my charge even to death. Not- 
 withstanding, seeing you require me to declare my mind of the pre- 
 sence of Christ in the sacrament, that ye may perceive I am not 
 ashamed of the presence of'Chi-ist, neither do maintain any opinion 
 without probable and sufficient authority of the scripture, I will show 
 you frankly my mind. 
 
 I do protest here, first before God and his angels, that I speak it 
 not of vain glory, neither of singularity, neither of wilful stubborn- 
 ness, but truly upon a good conscience, grounded upon God's word, 
 against which I dare not go for fear of damnation, which will follow 
 that which is done contrary to knowledge. 
 
 There are two things principally, by which the clergy at this day 
 deceive the whole realm ; that is, the sacrament of the body and blood 
 of Christ, and the name of the catholic church ; which they do both 
 usurp, having, indeed, neither of them. And as touching their sacra- 
 ment, which they term of the altar, I say, that it is not the sacrament 
 of Christ, neither in the same is there any manner of Christ's pre- 
 sence. Wherefore they deceive the queen, and you the nobility of 
 this realm, in making you believe that to be a sacrament which is 
 none, and cause you to commit manifest idolatry in worshipping that 
 for God, which is no God. And in testimony of this to be true, be- 
 sides manifest proof, which I am able to make, I will yield my life , 
 which to do, if it were not upon sure ground, it were to my utter dam- 
 nation. 
 
 And v/here they take on them the name of the catholic church, 
 (whereby they blind many people's eyes,) they are nothing so, calling 
 
JOHN PHILPOT. 3(j7 
 
 you from the true religion which was revealed and taught in King 
 Edward's time, unto vain superstition. And this I will say for the trial 
 hereof, that if they can prove themselves to be the catholic church, I 
 will never be against their doings, but revoke all that I have said. And 
 I shall desire you, my lords, to be a means for me to the queen's ma- 
 jesty, that I may be brought to a just trial hereof. 
 
 Bonner. It hath been told me before, that you love to make a long 
 tale. 
 
 Rich. All heretics boast of the spirit of God, and every one would 
 have a church by himself; as Joan of .Kent, and the anabajptists. I 
 had myself Joan of Kent a week in my house, after the writ was out 
 for her being burnt, where my lord of Canterbury, and Bishop Ridley, 
 resorted almost daily unto her ; but she was so high in the spirit, that 
 they could do nothing with her for all their learning. But she went 
 wilfully into the fire, as you do now. 
 
 Philpot. As for Joan of Kent, she was a vain woman, (I knew her 
 well,) and a heretic indeed, because she stood against one of -the 
 manifest articles of our faith, contrary to the scriptures; and such 
 are soon known from the true spirit of God and his church, for that 
 the same abideth within the limits of God's word, and will not go out 
 of it. 
 
 Bonner. I pray you, how will you join me these scriptures toge- 
 ther : Pater major me est; pater et ego unum sumus ;* now show 
 your cunning, and join these two scriptures by the word, if you can. 
 
 Philpot. Yes, that I can right well. For we must understand rhat 
 in Christ there be two natures, the divinity and humanity, and in re- 
 spect of his humanity, it is spoken of Christ, " The Father is greater 
 than I." But in respect of his deity, he said again, " The Father 
 and I are one." 
 
 Bonner. But what scripture have you ? 
 
 Philpot. Yes, I have sufficient scripture for the proof of that I 
 have said. For the first, it is written of Christ in the Psalms, " Thou 
 hast made him a little lower than the apgels." 
 
 Bonner. What say you then to the second scripture ? how couple 
 you that by the word with the other ? 
 
 Philpot. The text itself declareth, that notwithstanding Christ did 
 abase himself in our human nature, yet he is still one in Deity with 
 the Father. And this St. Paul to the Hebrews doth more at large set 
 forth. 
 
 Bonner. How can that be, seeing St. Paul saith, " That the letter 
 killeth, but it is the spirit that giveth life ?" 
 
 Philpot. Sto Paul meaneth not that the word of God written, in 
 itself killeth, which is the word of life, and faithful testimony of the 
 Lord ; but that the word is unprofitable, and killeth him that is void 
 of the spirit of God ; therefore, St. Paul said, " That the gospel to 
 some was a savour of life unto life, and to others a savour of death 
 unto death." Also an example hereof we have in the sixth of John, 
 of them who hearing the word of God without the spirit, were ofiend- 
 ed thereby ; wherefore Christ said, " The llesh profiteth nothing, it is 
 the spirit that quickeneth." 
 
 * The Father is greater than I ; I and the Father are one. 
 
S68 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 Bonner. You see, my lords, that this man will have his own mind 
 and wilfully cast himself away. I am sorry for him. 
 
 Philpot. The words that I have spoken are none of mine, but the 
 gospel, whereon I ought to stand. And if you, my lord, can bring 
 better authority for the faith you would draw me unto, than that 
 which I stand upon, I will gladly hear the same. 
 
 Rich. What countryman are you ? 
 
 Philpot. I am Sir P. Philpot's son, of Hampshire. 
 
 Rich. He is my near kinsman ; wherefore I am the more sorry for 
 him. 
 
 Philpot. I thank your lordship that it pleaseth you to challenge 
 kindred of a poor prisoner. 
 
 Rich. In faith, I would go a hundred miles on my bare feet to do 
 you good. 
 
 Lord Chamberlain. He may do well enough if he will. 
 
 St. John. Mr. Philpot, you are my countryman, and I would be 
 glad you should do well. 
 
 Rich. I dare be bold to procure for you of the queen's majesty 
 that you shall have ten learned men to reason with you, and twenty 
 or forty of the nobility to hear, so you will promise to abide their 
 judgment. How say you, will you promise here before my lords so 
 to do ? 
 
 Philpot. I Avill be contented to be judged by them. 
 
 Rich. Yea, but will you promise to agree to tlieir judgment? 
 
 Philpot. There are causes Avhy I may not so do, unless I were sure 
 they would judge according to the word of God. 
 
 Rich. O, I perceive you will have no man judge but yourself, and 
 ..think yourself wiser than all the learned men in this realm. 
 
 Philpot. My lord, I seek not to be mine own judge, but am willing 
 to be judged by others, so that the order of judgment in matters of re- 
 ligion be kept that was in the primitive church, which is, first, that 
 God's will by his word was sought, and thereunto both the spirituality 
 and temporality were gathered together, and gave their consents and 
 jjidgment ; and such kind of judgment I will stand to. 
 
 Rich. I marvel why you do deny the express words of Christ in 
 th-e sacrament, saying, " This is my body ;" and yet you will not 
 stick to say it is not his body. Is not God omnipotent? And is not 
 he uble as well by his omnipotency to make it his body, as he was to 
 make man flesh of a piece of clay? Did not he say, " this is my 
 boxly which shall be betrayed for you ?" And was not his very body 
 betrayed for us ? Therefore it must needs be his body. 
 
 Bonner. My Lord Rich, you have said wonderful well and learnedly. 
 But you might have begun with him before also, in the sixth of John, 
 where Christ promised to give his body in the sacrament of the altar, 
 saying, " The bread which I will give is my flesh." How can you 
 answer to that? 
 
 Philpot. You may be soon answered ; that saying of St. John is, 
 that the humanity of Christ, which he took upon him for the redemp- 
 tion of man, is the bread of life whereby our souls and bodies are sus- 
 tained to eternal life, of which the sacramental bread is a lively re- 
 presentation, to all such as believe on his passion. And as Christ 
 saith in the same sixth of John, " I am the bread that came down from 
 heaven ;" but yet he is not material, neither natural bread : likewise, 
 
JOHN PHILPOT. 369 
 
 the bread is his flesh, not natural or substantial, but by signification, 
 and by grace in the sacrament. 
 
 A.nd now to my Lord Rich's argument. I do not deny the express 
 words of Christ in the sacrament, " This is my body ;" but I deny 
 that they are naturally and corporally to be taken : they must be 
 taken spiritually, according to the express declaration of Christ, saying 
 that the words of the sacrament which the Capernaites took carnally, 
 as the papists now do, ought to be taken spiritually and not carnally, 
 as they falsely imagine, not weighing what interpretation Christ hath 
 made in this behalf, neither following the institution of Christ, neither 
 the use of the apostles and of the primitive church, who never taught, 
 neither declared any such carnal manner of presence as is now exacted 
 of us violently, without any ground of scripture or antiquity; 
 
 Bonner. What say yoji to the omnipotency of God ? Is not he able 
 to perform that which he spake, as my Lord Rich hath very well 
 said ? I tell thee, that God, by his omnipotency, may make himself 
 to be this carpet if he will. 
 
 Philpot. As concerning the omnipotency of God, I say, that God 
 is able to do (as the prophet David saith) whatsoever he willeth ; but 
 he willeth nothing that is not agreeable to his word ; that is blasphemy 
 which my lord of London hath spoken, that God may become a car- 
 pet. For God cannot do that which is contrary to. his nature, and it 
 is contrary to the nature of God to be a carpet. A carpet is a crea- 
 ture ; and God is the creator ; and the creator cannot be the creature: 
 wherefore, unless you can declare by the word, that Christ is otherwise 
 present with us than spiritually and sacrarr.entally by grace, as he hath 
 taught us, you pretend the omnipotency of God in vain. 
 
 Bonner. "Why, wilt thou not say that Christ is really present in the 
 sacrament? Or do you deny it? 
 
 Philpot. I deny not that Christ is really present in the sacrament 
 to the receiver thereof according to Christ's institution. 
 
 Bonner. What mean you by " really present?" 
 
 Philpot. I mean, by " really present," present indeed. 
 
 Bonner. Is God really present every where ? 
 
 Philpot. He is so. 
 
 Bonner. How prove you that ? 
 
 Philpot. The prophet Isaiah saith, " That God fiUeth all places :** 
 and wheresoever there be two or three gathered together in Christ's 
 name, there is he in the midst of them. 
 
 Bonner. What, his humanity ? 
 
 Philpot. No, my lord, I mean the Deity, according to that you 
 demanded. 
 
 Rich. My lord of London, I pray you let Dr. Chedsoy reason with 
 him, and let us see how he can answer him, for I tell thee he is a 
 learned man indeed, and one that I do credit before a great many of 
 you, whose doctrine the queen's majesty and the whole realm doth 
 well allow ; therefore hear him. 
 
 Dr. Chedsey accordingly began. 
 
 Chedsey. You have of Scriptures the four evangelists for the pro- 
 bation of Christ's real presence to be in the sacrament after the words 
 of consecration, with St. Paul to the Corinthians ; which all say, 
 " Tliis is niy body." They say not, as you would have mc believe, 
 This is not my body. But especially the 6th of John proveth fchi« 
 
 47 
 
370 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 most manifestly, where Christ promised to give his body, which he 
 •performed in his last supper, as it appeareth by these words, " The 
 bread which I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of 
 the world." 
 
 Philpot. My Lord Rich, with your leave I must needs interrupt 
 him a little, because he speaketh open blasphemy against the death 
 of Christ : for if that promise, brought in by St. John, was performed 
 by Christ in his last supper, then he needed not to have died after he 
 had given the sacrament. 
 
 Windsor. There were never any that denied the words of Christ 
 as you do. Did he not say, " This is my body ?" 
 
 Philpot. My lord, I pray you be not deceived. We do not deny 
 the words of Christ ; but we say, these words are of none eflfect, be- 
 ing spoken otherwise than Christ did institute them in his last supper. 
 For example : Christ biddeth the church to baptize in the name of 
 the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. If a priest say these 
 words over the water, and there be no child to be baptized, these words 
 only pronounced do not make baptism. And baptism is only baptism 
 to such as be baptised, and to none other standing by. 
 
 Lord Chamberlain. My lord, let me ask him one question. What 
 kind of presence in the sacrament (duly administered according to 
 Christ's ordinance) do you allow? 
 
 Philpot. If any come worthily to receive, then do I confess the pre- 
 sence of Christ wholly to be with all the fruits of his passion, unto 
 the said worthy receiver, by the Spirit of God, and that Christ is there- 
 by joined to him, and he to Christ. 
 
 Lord Chamberlain. I am answered. 
 
 JSonner. My lords, take no heed of him, for he goeth about to de- 
 ceive you. His similitude that he bringeth in of baptism, is nothing 
 like to the sacrament of the altar. For if I should say to Sir John 
 Bridges, being vidth me at supper, and having a fat capon, Take, eat, 
 this is a capon, although he eat not thereof, is it not a capon still ? 
 And likewise of a piece of beef, or of a cup of wine, if I say, Drink, 
 this is a cup of wine, is it not so, because he drinketh not thereof? 
 
 Philpot. My lord, your similitudes are too gross for so high mys- 
 teries as we have in hand, as like must he compared to like, and spi- 
 ritual things with spiritual,«,nd not spiritual things with corporeal things. 
 The sacraments ai'e to be considered according to the word which 
 Christ spake of them, of which, " Take ye, eat ye," be some of the 
 chief, concurrent to the making of the same, without which there can 
 be no sacraments. And, therefore, the sacrament of the body and 
 blood of Christ is called Communion. 
 
 Bonner. My lords, I am sorry I have troubled you so long with this 
 obstinate man, with whom we can do no good ; I will trouble you no 
 longer now. And with that the lords rose up, none of them saying 
 any evil word unto me. 
 
 His seventh Examination, November 19, before the bishops of London 
 and Rochester, the Chancellor of Litchfield^ and Dr. Chedsey. 
 
 Bonner. Sirrah, come hither. How chance you came no sooner ? 
 la it well done of you to make Mr. Chancellor and me to tarry for 
 yon this hour? By the faitk of my body, half an hour before mass, and 
 half an hour even at mass, looking for your coming. 
 
JOHN PHILPOT. 371 
 
 Philpot. My lord, it is well known to you that I am a prisoner, and 
 that the doors be shut upon me, and I cannot come when I please ; 
 but as soon as the doors of my prison were open, I came immediately. 
 
 Bonner. We sent for thee to the intent that thou shouldst have come 
 to mass. How say you, would you have come to mass or no, if the 
 doors had been sooner opened ? 
 
 Philpot. My lord, that is another manner of question. 
 
 Bonn&r. Lo, Mr. Chancellor, I told you we should have a frowa,rd 
 fellow of him : he will answer directly to nothing. I have had him 
 before the spiritual lords and the temporal, thus he fareth still ; yet 
 he reckoneth himself better learned than all the realm. Yea, before 
 the temporal lords the other day, he was so foolish as to challenge 
 the best : he would make himself learned, and is a very ignorant fool 
 indeed. 
 
 Philpot. I reckon I answered your lordship before the lords plain 
 enough. 
 
 Bonner. Why answerest thou not directly, whether thou wouldst 
 have gone to mass or not if thouhadst come in time? 
 
 Philpot. Mine answer shall be thus, that if your lordship can prove 
 your mass, whereunto you would have me to come, to be the true ser- 
 vice of God, whereunto a Christian ought to come, I will afterwards 
 come with a good will. 
 
 Benner. Look, I pray you ; the king and queen, and all the no- 
 bility of the realm, do come to mass, and yet he will not. By my faith* 
 thou art too well handled ; thou shalt be worse handled hereafter, I 
 warrant thee. 
 
 Philpot. Your lordship hath power to treat my body as you please. 
 
 Bonner. Thou art a very ignorant fool. Mr. Chancellor, in good 
 faith I have handled him and his fellows with as much gentleness as 
 they can desire. I did let their friends come unto them to relieve 
 them. And wot you what ? the other day they had gotten themselves 
 up into the top of the leads, with a number of apprentices gazing 
 abroad as though they had been at liberty; but I cut off their resort : 
 and as for the apprentices, they were as good not to come to you, if I 
 take them. 
 
 Philpot. My lord, we have no such resort to us, as your lordship 
 imagineth, and there come very few unto us. And of apprentices, 
 I know not one, neither have we any leads to walk on over our coal- 
 house, that I know of: wherefore your lordship hath mistaken your 
 mark. 
 
 Bonner. Nay, now you think (because my lord chancellor is gone) 
 that we Avill burn no more ; yes, I warrant thee, I will dispatch you 
 shortly, unless you recant. 
 
 The conversation then turned again upon the supremacy of the 
 Romish church, on which nothing was said by its advocates, but what 
 had been before refuted by Mr. Philpot ; at length the chancellor thus 
 concluded. 
 
 Chancellor. Well, Doctor, you see we can do no good in persuad- 
 ing of him : let us administer the articles which my lord hath left us, 
 unto him. How say you, Mr. Philpot, to these articles ? Mr. John- 
 son, I pray you write his answers. 
 
 Philpot. Mr. Chancellor, you have no authority to inquire of me 
 my belief in such articles as you go about, for I am not of my lord of 
 
372 BOOK OF MARTYRS. , 
 
 London's diocese ; and to be brief with you, I will make no farther 
 answer herein, than I have already to the bishop. 
 
 Chancellor. "Why then let us go our ways, and let his keeper take 
 him away. 
 
 Conference between the Bishop and Mr. Philpot, and other prisoners. 
 
 Two days after, an hour before it was light, the bishop sent for me 
 again by the keeper. 
 
 Keeper. Mr. Philpot, arise, you must come to my lord. 
 
 Philpot. I wonder what my lord meaneth, that he sendeth for me 
 thus early ; I fear he v/ill use some violence towards me, wherefore I 
 pray you make him this answer, that if he do send for me by an order 
 of law, I will come and answer ; otherwise, since I am not of his dio- 
 cese, neither is he mine ordinary, I will not (without I be violently 
 constrained) come unto him. 
 
 With that, one of them took me by force by the arm, and led me up 
 into the bishop's gallery. 
 
 Bonner. What, thou art a foolish knave indeed ; thou wilt n^ot come 
 without thou be fetched. *^ ■". 
 
 Philpot. r am brought indeed, my lord, by violence unto you, and 
 your cruelty is such, that I am afraid to come before you : I would 
 your lordship would gently proceed against me by the law. 
 
 Bonner. I am blamed by the lords the bishops, that I have not dis- 
 patched thee ere this ; and am commanded to take a farther order with 
 thee ; and in good faith, if thou wilt not relent, I will make no farther 
 delay. Marry, if thou wilt yet be conformable, I will forgive thee all 
 that is past, and thou shalt have no hurt for any thing that is already 
 spoken or done. 
 
 Philpot. My lord, I have answered you already in this behalf what 
 I will do. 
 
 Bonner. Hadst thou not a pig brought thee the other day, with a 
 knife in it ? Wherefore was it but to kill thyself? or, as it is told 
 me, (marry I am counselled to take heed of thee,) to kill me ? But I 
 fear thee not; I think I am able to tread thee under my feet, do the 
 best thou canst. 
 
 Philpot. My lord, I cannot deny but that there was a knife in the 
 pig's belly that was brought me. But who put it in, or for what pur- 
 pose, I know not, unless it were because he that sent the meat, tliought 
 I was without a knife. But other things your lordship needeth not to 
 fear ; for I Avas never without a knife, since I came to prison. And 
 touching your own person, you shall live long if you should live till I 
 go about to kill you ; and I confess, by violence, your lordship is able 
 to overcome me. 
 
 Bonner. I charge thee to answer to mine articles. Hold him a book. 
 Thou shalt swear to answer truly to all such articles as I shall demand 
 of thee. 
 
 Philpot. I refuse to swear in these causes before your lordship, be- 
 cause you are not mine ordinary. 
 
 Bonner. I am thine ordinary, and here do pronounce, by sentence 
 peremptory, I am thine ordinary, and that thou art of my diocese ; 
 (and here he ordered others to be called in to bear him witness.) And 
 I make thee (taking one of his servants hy the arm) to be my notary. 
 And now hearken to my articles, to which (vyhen he had read them^ 
 
JOHN PHILPOt. 373 
 
 he admonished me to make answer, and said to the keeper, Fetch me 
 his fellows, and I shall make them to be witnesses against him. 
 
 In the mean while came in one of the sherifis of London, whom 
 the bishop placed by him, saying, Mr. Sheriff, I would you should 
 understand how I do proceed against this man. Mr. Sherift", you 
 shall hear what articles this man doth maintain : and so read a set of 
 feigned articles ; that I denied baptism to be necessary to them that 
 were born of Christian parents, that I denied fasting and prayer, and 
 all other good deeds ; that I maintained only bare faith to be sufficient 
 to salvation, whatsoever a man did besides, and I maintained God to 
 be the author of all sin and wickedness. 
 
 PMlpot. Ah, my lord, have you , nothing of truth to charge me 
 withal, but you must be fain to imagine these blasphemous lies against 
 me 1 You might as well have said, I had killed your father. The 
 scriptures say, " That God will destroy all men that speak lies." 
 And is not your lordship ashamed to say before this gentleman, (who 
 is unknown to me,) that I maintain what you have rehearsed ? which 
 if I did, I were well worthy to be counted a heretic, and to be burnt. 
 
 Bonner. Wilt thou answer to them ? 
 
 Philpot. I will first know you to be my ordinary, and that you may 
 lawfully charge me with such things. 
 
 Bonner. Well, then I will make thy fellows to be witnesses herein 
 against thee: where are they? are they come? 
 
 Keeper. They are here, my lord. 
 
 Bonner. Come hither, sii-s : (hold them a book,) you shall swear by 
 the contents of that book, that you shall say the truth of all such arti- 
 cles as shall be demanded of you concerning this man here present, 
 and take you heed of him, that he doth not deceive you, as I am afraid 
 he doth, and strengtheneth you in your errors. 
 
 Prisoners. My lord, we will not swear, except we know whereto ; 
 we can accuse him of no evil; we have been but a while acquainted 
 with him. 
 
 Philpot, I wonder yOur lordship, knowing the law, will go about, 
 contrary to the same, for your lordship doth take them to be heretics, 
 and by the law a heretic cannot be a witness. 
 
 Bonner. Yes, one heretic against another may be well enough. 
 And, Mr. Sheriff, I will make one of them to be a witness against ano- 
 ther. 
 
 Prisoners. No, my lord. 
 
 Bonner. No ! will you not ? I will make you swear, whether you 
 will or no. I think they be Anabaptists, Mr. Sheriff, they think it not 
 lawful to swear before a judge. 
 
 PMlpot. We think it lawful to swear for a man judicially called, as 
 we are not now, but in a blind corner. 
 
 Bonner. Why, then, seeing you will not swear against your fellov/, 
 you shall swear for yourselves, and I do here in the presence of Mr. 
 Sheriff, object the same articles unto you, as I have done unto him, and 
 require you, under pain of excommunication, to answer particularly 
 tmlo every one of them when you shall be examined, as you shall be 
 soon, by my register and some of my chaplains. 
 
 Prisoners. My lord, we will not accuse ourselves. If any man 
 can lay any thing against us, we are here ready to answer thereto • 
 
374 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 otherwise we pray your lordship not to burden us ; for some of us- 
 are here beforfe you, -we know no just cause why. 
 
 Bonner. Mr. Sherifl', I will trouble you no longer with these fro- 
 ward men. And so he rose up, and was going away, talking with 
 Mr. Sheriff. 
 
 Philpot. Mr. Sheriff, I pray you record how my lord proceedeth 
 against us in corners, without all order of law, having no just cause to 
 lay against us. And after this, we were all commanded to be put in 
 the stocks, where I sat from morning until night ; and the keeper at 
 night upon favour let me out. 
 
 The Sunday after, the bishop came into the coal-house at night, 
 with the keeper, and viewed the house, saying, that he was never 
 there before ; whereby a man may guess how he kept God's^, com- 
 mandment in visiting the prisoners. Between eight and nine^ he sent 
 for me, saying : 
 
 Bonner. Sir, I have great displeasure of the queen and council for 
 keeping you so long, and letting you have so much liberty ; and be- 
 sides that, you strengthen the other prisoners in their errors, as I have 
 laid wait for your doings, and am certified of you well enough ; I will 
 sequester you therefore from them, and you shall hurt them no more 
 as you have done, and I will out of hand dispatch you as I am com- 
 manded, unless you will be a conformable man. 
 
 Philpot. My lord, you have my body in your custody, you may 
 transport it whither you please ; I am content. And I wish you 
 would make as quick expedition in my judgment, as you say ; I long 
 for it : and as for conformity, I am ready to yield to all truth, if any 
 can bring better than I. 
 
 Bonner. Why, will you believe no man but yourself, whatsoever 
 they say? 
 
 Philpot. My belief mast not hang upon men's sayings, without 
 sure authority of God's word, which if they can show me, I will be 
 pliant to the same ; otherwise I cannot go from my certain faith to 
 that which is uncertain. 
 
 Bonner. Have you then the truth only ? 
 
 Philpot. My lord, I will speak my mind freely unto you and upon 
 no malice that I bear to you, before God. You have not the truth, 
 neither are you of the church of God ; but you persecute both the 
 truth and the true church of God, for which cause you cannot prosper 
 long. You see God doth not prosper your doings according to your 
 expectations ; he hath of late showed his just judgment against one of 
 your greatest doers, who, by reports, died miserably.* I envy not 
 the authority you are in. You that have learning, should know best 
 how to rule. And seeing God hath restored you to your dignity and 
 living again, use the same to God's glory, and to the setting forth of 
 his true religion : otherwise it will not continue, do what you can. 
 With this saying he paused, and at length said : 
 
 Bonner. That, good man was punished for such as thou art. 
 Where is the keeper ? Come, let him have him to the place that is 
 provided for him Go your way before. 
 
 He then followed me, calling the keeper aside, commanding him to 
 
 * The bishop of Winchester who died of a very painfiil disorder, on the 12th of 
 November, 1655. 
 
JOHN PHILPOT. 375 
 
 keep all men from me, and narrowly to search me, commanding two 
 of his men to accompany the keeper to see me placed. 
 
 I afterwards passed through St. Paul's up to Lollards' Tower and 
 after that turned along the west sid-e of St. Paul's through the wall, 
 and passing through six or seven doors, came to my lodging through 
 many straits ; where I called to remembrance, that straight is the 
 way to heaven. And it is in a tower, right on the other side of Lol- 
 lards' Tower, as high almost as the battlements of St. Paul's, eight 
 feet in breadth, and thirteen in length, and almost over the prison 
 where I was before, having a window opening towards the east, by 
 which I could look over the tops of a great many houses, but saw no 
 man passing into them. 
 
 An# as I came to my place, the keeper took off my gown, searched 
 me very narrowly, and took away a pen-case, ink-horn, girdle, and 
 knife, but (as God would have' it,) I had an inkling a little before I 
 was called, of my removal, and thereupon made an errand to the 
 stool, where (full sore against my will,) I cast away many a friendly 
 letter ; but that which I had written of my last examination before, 
 I thrust into my hose, thinking the next day to have made an end 
 thereof, and with Avalking it was fallen down to my leg, which he 
 by feeling soon found out, and asked what that was. I said, they 
 were certain letters ; and with that he was very busy to have them 
 out. Let me alone, said I, I will take them out : with that I put my 
 hand, having two other letters therein, and brought up the same wri- 
 ting into my breeches, and there left it, giving him the other two that 
 were not of any importance ; which to make a show that they had 
 been Aveighty, I began to tear as well as I could, till they snatched 
 them from me ; and so deluded him from his purpose. 
 
 Then he went away, and as he was going, one of them that came 
 with him, said that I did not deliver the writing I had in my hose, 
 but two other letters I had in my hand before. Did he not ? says he, 
 I will go and search him better ; which I hearing, conveyed my ex- 
 amination I had written, into another place near my bed, and took 
 all my letters I had in my purse, and was tearing ojf them when he 
 came again, and as he came I threw the same out of the window, 
 saying that I heard what he said. By this, I prevented his search- 
 ing any fiirther. 
 
 This zealous and unshaken servant of God still continued to be 
 held in suspense, and underwent seven more examinations, being 
 combated with all the learning and sophistry of the various heads of 
 the corrupted church ; but armed with truth, he bravely stood the 
 test, and proved himself to be founded on a rock. 
 
 To relate the whole of the examinations, would only be a tedious 
 repetition of the insolence of Bonner, of the pride and arrogance of 
 the other bishops, and points of dispute, already discussed. We, 
 therefore, proceed to his fourteenth and final examination. 
 
 hast Examination of Mr. Philpot. 
 
 Bishop Bonner having wearied himself with repeated interviews 
 and conferences with our Christian champion ; by turns insulting, 
 threatening, and exhorting him, with equally hopeless effect, at length 
 resolved to terminate the contest. Accordingly, on the 13th of De- 
 
376 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 cember, he ordered him to be brouglit before him and others, in the 
 consistory of St. Paul's, and thus addressed him : 
 
 " Mr. Philpot, amongst other things that were laid and objected 
 against you, these three you were principally charged with. 
 
 " The first is, that you being fallen from the unity of Christ's ca- 
 tholic church, do refuse to be reconciled thereto. 
 
 " The second is, that you have blasphemously spoken against the 
 -sacrifice of the mass, calling it idolatry. 
 
 " And the third is, that you have spoken against the sacrament of 
 the altar, denying the real presence of Christ's body and blood to be 
 ■in the same. 
 
 " And according to the v/ill and pleasure of the synod legislative, 
 you have been often by me invited, and required to go from yow said 
 errors and heresies, and to return to the unity of the catholic church, 
 which, if you will now willingly do, you shall be mercifully and gladly 
 received, charitably used, and have all the favour I can shoAv you. 
 And now, to tell you true, it is assigned and appointed me to give 
 sentence against you, if you stand herein, and will not return. 
 Wherefore if you so refuse, 1 do ask of you whether you have any 
 cause that you can show why I now should not give sentence against 
 you." 
 
 Philpot. Under protestation not to go from my appeal that I have 
 made,, and also not to consent to you as my competent judge, I say, 
 respecting your first objection concerning the catholic church, I nei- 
 ther was nor am out of the same. And as to the sacrifice of the mass, 
 and the sacrament of the altar, I never spoke against the same. And 
 as concerning the pleasure of the synod, I say, that these twenty years 
 I have been brought up in the faith of the true catholic church, M'hich 
 is contrary to your church, whereunto you would have me to come ; 
 and in that time I have been many times sworn, both in the reign of 
 King Henry the Eighth, and of Edward, his son, against the usurped 
 power of the bishop of Rome, which oath, I think, I am bound in my 
 conscience to keep, because I must perform unto the Lord mine oath 
 But if you, or any of the synod, can, by God's word, persuade me 
 that my oath was unlawful, and that I am bound by God's law to come 
 to your church, faith, and religioii, I will gladly yield up unto you, 
 otherwise not. 
 
 Bonner, then, not able, with all his learned doctors, to accomplish 
 this offered condition, had recourse, as usual, to his promises and 
 threats ; to which Mr. Philpot answered : 
 
 " You, and all other of your sort, are hypocrites, and I Avish all the 
 world knev/ your hypocrisy, your tyranny, ignorance, and idolatry." 
 
 Upon these words the bishop, for that time, dismissed him, com- 
 manding that on Monday, the 16th of the same month, he should 
 aoain be brought thither, there to have the definitive sentence of con- 
 demnation pronounced against him, if he then remained resolved. 
 
 Condemnation of Philpot. • 
 
 The day being come, Mr. Philpot was accordingly presented be- 
 fore the bishops of London, Bath, Worcester, and Litchliekl ; when 
 the former thus began : 
 
t 
 
 r 
 

 Inhuman execution of a mother, two daughters, and an infant 
 at Guernsey, in 1556. pa^e 419. 
 
 Five penons starved to death. pog"^ 424. 
 
 Burning of Protestants. pag^ 433. 
 
JOHN PHILPOT. 377 
 
 Bonner. My lorJs, Stokesley, my predecessor, when he went to 
 give sentence against a heretic, used to make this prayer : 
 
 Deus qui errantibus, ut in viam possint redire, justitics veritatisque 
 tu(B lumen ostendis, da cunctis qui Christiana prof essione censentur^ 
 et ilia respuere quaz huic, inimica sint nomini, et ea quae, sint apta sec- 
 tari per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen. Which I will follow. 
 And so he read it with a loud voice in Latin. 
 
 Philpot. I wish you would speak in English, that all men might 
 understand you ; for St. Paul willeth, that all things spoken in the 
 congregation to edify, should be spoken in a tongue that all men 
 might understand. 
 
 Whereupon the bishop read it in English. 
 M ,0 God, who showest the light of thy truth and righteousness to 
 those that stray, that they may return into thy way, give to all who 
 profess themselves Christians, to refuse those things which are foes 
 to thy name, and to follow those things which are fit, by Christ our 
 Lord. Amen." And when he came to these words, " To refuse 
 those things which are foes to thy name," Mr. Philpot said, 
 
 " Then they all must turn away from you ; for vou are enemies to 
 that name." 
 
 Bonner. Whom do you mean ? 
 
 Philpot. You, and all of your generation and sect. And I am sorry 
 to see you sit in the place that you now sit in, pretending to execute 
 justice, and to do nothing less but deceive all in this realm. 
 
 And then turning himself unto the people, he farther said, " O all 
 you gentlemen, beware of these men, and all their doings, which are 
 contrary to the primitive church. And I would know of yott« my 
 lord, by what authority you proceed against me." 
 
 Bojiner. Because I am bishop of London. 
 
 Philpot. Well, then, you are not my bishop, nor have I offended 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 of 
 the king and queen ; and, my lord, is it not enough for you to worry 
 |i 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 xuuch 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 law, 
 
 48 
 
378 BOOK OF MAKTYRS. 
 
 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 gospel, 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 Will|^ 
 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, 
 r 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 offer 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,) a/nd I will follow you, and do as you would have me. But you 
 are idolaters, and traitors ; for in your pulpits ye rail against good 
 things, as King Henry, and King Edward his son, who have stood 
 sgainst the usurped power of the pope of Rome: against whom I 
 
JOHN PHILPOT. 37g 
 
 have also taken aft 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, wTiich 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 the 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- 
 cerning 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 Mi, 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 affirmative. 
 
 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 OP MARTYRS. 
 
 of Mr. Philpot, whether he had any just cause to allege why he should 
 not condemn him as a heretic. " Well," quota 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," &c. Mr. Philpot said, " I thank 
 God that I am a heretic o^t 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, knoAVwf 
 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 ofiicers 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. Then his man strove to go in after his master, and 
 one of the officers said unto him, " Hence, fellow ! what wouldsl 
 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 money nath 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 like, 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 taken off." — " Well," said Alexander, " give me 
 niy fees, and I will take them off; if not, thou 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 Avith 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 showed him how Mr. Philpot 
 was treated in Newgate, he took his ring from off his ffnger, 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 show 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 1 7th 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- 
 Dot 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 slieriffs came according to order, about eight 
 o'clock, and calling for him, he most joyfully came down to them. And 
 there his iTian 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 way was foul, and two officers took him 
 up to bear him to the stake. Then he said merrily, "What, will you 
 make me a pope ? I am content to go to my journey's end on foot." 
 But on entering into Smithfield, he kneeled dovra, 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 tlie cross forme?" And 
 
382 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 then with an obedient heart he repeated the 106th, 107th, and 108th 
 Psalms : and when he had made an end of all his 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 pvying eyes. 
 
 SECTION IX. 
 
 ilFE, 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 .Tuly, 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, Avas 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 152-3 he commenced doctor of divinity ; and being in great es- 
 teem for theological learning, he was chosen divinity lecturer in 
 his own collere^and appointed, by the university, one of the exami- 
 ners in tliat science. In this office he principally inculcated the study 
 of the holy scriptures, then greatly neglected, as being indispensably 
 necessary for tl " professors of that divine knowledge. 
 
 The plague i appening 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. 333 
 
 the king, who was so pleased 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 the 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 wa? 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, &:c. to him. For he had conversed 
 freely with the reformed in Germany, had read Luther's books, and 
 was zealously attached to the glorious cause of reformation. 
 
 The first service he did the king in his archiepiscopal character, 
 was, pronouncing the sentence of his divorce from Queen Catherine, 
 and the next was joining his hand with Anne Boleyn, the consequence 
 of which marriage was the birth of Elizabeth, to whom he stood god- 
 father. 
 
 As the queen was greatly interested in the reformation, the friends 
 to that good work began to conceive high hopes ; and, indeed, it 
 went on with desirable success. But the ficlde disposition of the king, 
 and the fatal end of the unhappy Anne, for a while, alarmed their 
 fears ; though, by God's providence, without any ill effects. The 
 pope's supremacy was universally exploded ; monasteries, &c. de- 
 stroyed, upon the fullest detection of the most abominable vices and 
 wickedness existing in them ; that valuable book of the " Erudition of 
 a Christian Man," was set forth by the archbishop, with public autho- 
 rity ; and the sacred scriptures, at length, to the infinite joy of Cran- 
 mer, and of Lord Cromwell, his constant friend and associate, were 
 not only translated, but introduced into every parish. The transla- 
 tion was received with inexpressible joy ; every one, that was able, 
 purchased it, and the poor flocked greedily to hear it read; some per- 
 sons in years learned to read, on purpose that they might peruse it ; 
 and even little children crowded with eagerness to hear it. 
 
 Cranmer, that he might proceed with true judgment, made a collec- 
 tion of opinions from the works of the ancient fathers and later doc- 
 tors : of whichi work Dr. Burnet saw two volumes in folio ; and it ap- 
 pears, by a letter of Lord Burleigh, that there were then six volumes 
 
384 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 of Cranmer's collections in his hands. A Avork of' incredible labour, 
 and of vast utility. 
 
 A short time after this, he gave shining proof of his sincere and 
 disinterested constancy, by his noble opposition to what are commonly 
 called King Henry's six bloody articles. However, he weathered 
 the storm ; and published, with an incomparable preface, written by 
 hira'self, the larger Bible ; six of- which, even Bonner, then newly 
 consecrated bishop of London, caused to be fixed, for the perusal of 
 the people, in his cathedral of St. Paul's. 
 
 The enemies of the reformation, however, were restless ; and 
 Henry, alas ! was no protestant in his heart. Cromwell fell a sacri- 
 fice to them, and they aimed their malignant shafts at Cranmer. Gar- 
 diner in particular was indefatigable ; he caused him to be accused in 
 parliament, and several lords of the privy council moved the king to 
 commit the archbishop to the tower. The king perceived their ma- 
 lice ; and on^ evening, on pretence of diverting himself on the water, 
 ordered his barge to be rowed to Lambeth. The archbishop, being 
 informed of it, came down to pay his respects, and was ordered by, 
 the king to come into the barge, and sit close by him. Henry made 
 him acquainted with the accusation of heresy, faction, ifec. which 
 were laid against him, and spoke of his opposition to the six articles; 
 the archbishop modestly replied, that he could not but acknowledge 
 himself to be of the same opinion with respect to them, but was not 
 conscious of having ofiended against them. The king then putting 
 on an air of pleasantry, asked him, if his bedchamber could stand the 
 test of these articles 1 The archbishop confessed that he was mar- 
 ried in Germany before his promotion ; but he assured the king, that 
 on the passing of that act he had parted with his wife, and sent her 
 abroad to her friends. His majesty was so charmed with his open- 
 ness and integrity, that he discovered the whole plot that was laid 
 against him, and gave him a ring of great value to produce upon any 
 future emergency. 
 
 A few days after this, Cranmer's enemies summoned him to appear 
 before the council. He accordingly attended, when they sufiered 
 him to wait in the lobby amongst the servants, treated him on his 
 admission with haughty contempt, and v/ould have sent him to the 
 tower. But he produced the ring, which changed their tone, and, . 
 while his enemies received a severe reprimand from Henry, Cranmer 
 himself gained the highest degree of security and favour. 
 
 On this occasion, he showed that lenity and mildness for which he 
 was always so much distinguished ; he never persecuted any of his 
 enemies ; but, on the contrary, freely forgave even the inveterate 
 Gardiner, on his writing a supplicatory letter to him. The same 
 lenity he showed towards Dr. Thornton, the suffragan of Dover, and 
 Dr. Barber, who, though entertained in his family, intrusted mth his 
 secrets, and indebted to him for many favours, had ungratefully con- 
 spired with Gardiner to take away his life. 
 
 When Cranmer first discovered their treachery, he took them aside 
 into his study, and telling them that he had been basely and falsely 
 accused by some in whom he had always reposed the greatest confi- 
 dence, desired them to advise him how he should behave himsell 
 towards them ? They, not suspecting themselves to be concerned in 
 the question, leplied, that " such vile, abandoned villians, ought to 
 
Edward VI. siffniv^ Joan Bccher's Warrant. 
 
 Martyrdom of Rev. John Rogers. fage 289. 
 
 Dr. Rcmlaml Taylor dragged out of Church. Page 302- 
 
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 335 
 
 be prosecuted with the greatest rigour ; nay, deserved to die without 
 mercy." At this, the archbishop, lifting up his hands to heaven, cried 
 out, '* Merciful God ! whom may man trust." And then taking out 
 of his bosom the letters, by which he had discovered their treachery, 
 asked them if they knew those papers ? When they saw their own 
 letters produced against them, they were in the utmost confusion ; and 
 falling down upon their knees, humbly sued for forgiveness. The 
 archbishop told them, " that he forgave them, and would pray for 
 them ; but that they must not expect him ever to trust them for the 
 future." 
 
 As we are upon the subject of the archbishop's readiness to forgive 
 and forget injuries, it may not be improper here to relate a pleasant 
 instance of it, which happened some time before the above circtftn- 
 stances. 
 
 The archbishop's first wife, whom he married at Cambridge, was 
 kinswoman to the hostess at the Dolphin inn, and boarded there ; and 
 he often resorting thither on that account, the popish party had raised 
 a story that he had been ostler to that inn, and never had the benefit 
 of a learned education. This idle story a Yorkshire priest had, with 
 great confidence, asserted, in an alehouse which he used to frequent ; 
 railing at the archbishop, and saying, that he had no more learning 
 than a goose. Some people of the parish informed Lord Cromwell 
 of this, and the priest was committed to the Fleet prison. When he 
 had been there nine or ten weeks, he sent a relation of his to the arch- 
 bishop, to beg his pardon, and to sue for a discharge. The archbishop 
 instantly sent for him, and, after a gentle reproof, asked the priest 
 whether he knew him ? To which he answering, " No," the arch- 
 bishop expostulated with him, why he should then make so free with 
 his character ? The priest excused himself, by saying he was dis- 
 guised with liquor; but this Cranmer told him was'a-double fault. 
 He then said to the priest, if he was inclined to try what a scholar he 
 was, he should have liberty to oppose him in whatever science he 
 pleased. The priest humbly asked his pardon, and confessed him 
 self to be very ignorant, and to understand nothing but his mothei 
 tongue. " No doubt, then," said Cranmer, " you are well versed in 
 the English Bible, and can answer any questions out of that; pray 
 tell me, who was David's father f" The priest stood still for some 
 time to consider ; but, at last, told the archbishop he could not recol- 
 lect his name, " Tell me, then," said Cranmer, " who was Solomon's 
 father?" The poor priest replied, that he had no skill in genealogies, 
 and could not tell. The archbishop then, advising him to frequent 
 ale-houses less, and his study more, and admonishing him not to ac- 
 cuse others for want of learning till he was master of some himself, 
 discharged him out of custody, and sent him home to his cure. 
 
 These may serve as instances of Cranmer's clement temper. In- 
 deed, he was much, blamed by many for his too great lenity ; wliich, 
 it was thought, encouraged the popish faction to make fresh attempts 
 against him ; but he was happy in giving a shining example of that 
 great Christian virtue which he diligently taught. 
 
 The king, who Avas a good discerner of men, remarking the impla- 
 cable hatred of Cranmer's enemies towards him, changed his coat of 
 arms from three cranes to three pelicans, feeding their young with 
 jl^ir own blood ; and told the archbishop, " that these birds should 
 ^^ 49 
 
396 BOOR OP MARTYRS. 
 
 signify to him, that he ought to be ready, like the peUcan, to shed his 
 blood for his young ones, brought up in the faith of Christ ; for," said 
 the king, " you are like to be tried, if you will stand to your tackling, 
 at length." The event proved the king to be no bad prophet. 
 
 In 1547, Henry died, and left his crown to his only son, Edward, 
 who was godson to Cranmer, and had imbibed all the spirit of a re- 
 former. This excellent young prince, influenced no less by his own 
 inclinations than by the advice of Cranmer, and the other friends of 
 reformation, was diligent in every endeavour to promote it. Homi- 
 lies, and a catechism, were composed by the archbishop ; Erasmus' 
 notes on the New Testament were translated, and fixed in churches ; 
 the sacrament was administered in both kinds ; and the liturgy was 
 read in the vulgar tongue. Ridley, the archbishop's great friend, 
 and one of the brightest lights of the English reformation, was equally 
 zealous in the good cause ; and in concert with him, the archbishop 
 drew up the forty-two articles of religion, which were revised by other 
 bishops and divines ; as, through him, he had perfectly conquered all 
 his scruples respecting the doctrines of the corporeal presence, and 
 published a much esteemed treatise, entitled, " A Defence of the True 
 and Catholic Doctrines of the Sacrament of the Body and Blood of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
 But this happy scene -of prosperity was not to continue : God was 
 pleased to deprive the nation of King Edward, in 1553, designing, in 
 his wise providence, to perfect the new-born church of his son Jesus 
 Christ in England, by the blood of martyrs, as at the beginning he per- 
 fected the church in general. 
 
 Anxious for the success of the reformation, and wrought upon by 
 the artifices of the duke of Northumberland, Edward had been per- 
 suaded to exclude his sisters, and to bequeath the crown to that 
 duke's amiable and every way deserving daughter-in-law the Lady 
 Jane Gray. The archbishop did his utmost to oppose this alteration 
 in the succession ; but the king was over-ruled ; the will was made, 
 and subscribed by the council and the judges. The archbishop was 
 sent for, last of all, and required to subscribe ; but he answered that 
 he could not do so without perjury ; having sworn to the entail of the 
 crown on the two princesses Mary and Elizabeth. To this the king 
 replied, " that the judges, who, being best skilled in the constitution, 
 ought to be regarded in this point, had assured him, that notwithstand- 
 ing that entail, he might lawfully bequeath the crown to Lady Jane." 
 The archbishop desired to discourse with them himself about it ; and 
 they all agreeing, that he might lawfully subscribe the king's will, he 
 was at last prevailed with to resign his own private scruples to their 
 authority, and set his hand to it. 
 
 Having done this, he thought himself obliged in conscience to join 
 the Lady Jane : but her short-lived power soon expired ; when Mary 
 and persecution mounted the throne, and Cranmer could expect 
 nothing less than what ensued — attainder, imprisonment, deprivation, 
 and death. 
 
 He was condemned for treason, and, with pretended clemency, par- 
 doned ; but, to gratify Gardiner's malice, and her own implacable re- 
 sentment against him for her mother's divorce, Mary gave orders to 
 proceed against him for heresy. His friends, who foresaw the stoj 
 had advised him to consult his safety by retiring beyond st-a ; bu{ 
 
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 
 
 S87 
 
 chose rather to continue steady to the cause, which he had hitherto so 
 nobly supported ; and preferred the probability of sealing his testimony 
 with his blood, to an ignominious and dishonourable flight. 
 
 The Tower was crowded with prisoners ; insomuch that Cranmer, 
 Ridley, Latimer, and Bradford, were all put into one chamber ; Xvhich 
 they were so far from thinking &.l inconvenience, that on the contrary, 
 they blessed God for the opportunity of conversing together : reading 
 and comparing the scriptures, confiv'ming themselves in the true faith, 
 and mutually exhorting each other n constancy in professing it, and 
 patience in suflfering for it. Happy society ! blessed martyrs ! ra- 
 ther to be envied, than the purpled vyrant, with the sword deep- 
 drenched in blood, though encircled with all the pomp and pageantry 
 of power ! 
 
 In April, 1554, the archbishop, with Bishops Ridley and Latimer, 
 was removed from the Tower to Windsor, aiid from thence to Oxford, 
 to dispute with some select persons of both universities. But how 
 vain are disputations, where the fate of men is fixed, and every word 
 is misconstrued ! And such Avas the case here : for on April the 20th, 
 Cranmer was brought to St. Mary's before the queen's commissioners, 
 and refusing to subscribe to the popish articles, he was pronounced 
 a heretic, and sentence of condemnation was passed upon him. Upon 
 which he told them, that he appealed from their unjust sentence to 
 that of the Almighty ; and that he trusted to be received into his pre- 
 sence in heaven for maintaining the truth, as set forth in his most holy 
 gospel. 
 
 After this his servants were dismissed from their attendance, and 
 himself closely confined in Bocardo, the prison of the city of Oxford. 
 But this sentence being void in law, as the pope's authority was want- 
 ing, a new commission was sent from Rome in 1555 ; and in St. Mary's 
 church at the high altar, the court sat, and tried the already condemned 
 Cranmer. He was here well nigh too strong for his judges ; and if 
 reason and truth could have prevailed, there would have been no doubt 
 who should have been acquitted, and who condemned. 
 
 The February following, a new commission was given to Bishop 
 Bonner and Bishop Thirlby, for the degradation of the archbishop. 
 When they came down to Oxford he was brought before them; and 
 after they had read their commission from the pope, (for not appear- 
 ing before whom in person, as they had cited him, he was declared 
 contumacious, though they themselves had kept him a close prisoner) 
 Bonner, in a scurrilous oration, insulted over him in the most unchris- 
 tian manner, for which he was often rebuked by Bishop Thirlby, who 
 wept, and declared it was the most sorrowful scene he had ever be- 
 held in his whole life. In the commission it was declared that the 
 cause had been impartially heard at Rome ; the witnesses on both 
 sides examined, and the archbishop's counsel allowed to make the'best 
 defence for him they could. 
 
 At the reading this, the archbishop could not help crying out, " Good 
 God ! what lies are these ; that I, being continvially in prison, and not 
 suffered to have counsel or advocate at home, should produce wit- 
 nesses, and appoint my counsel at Rome ! God must needs punish this 
 shameless and open lying 1" 
 
 ^^S''hen Bonner had finished his invective, they proceeded to degrade 
 J^Kjjl', and that they might make him as ridiculous as they could, the 
 
388 BOOK OF MARTYRS 
 
 episcopal habit which they put on him was made of canvass and old 
 rags. Bonner, in the meantime, by way of triumph and mockery, 
 calling him " Mr. Canterbury," and the like. 
 
 lie bore all this treatment with his wonted fortitude and patience ; 
 told them, " the degradation gave him no concern, for he had long 
 despised those ornaments;" but when they came to take away his 
 crosier, he held it fast, and delivered his appeal to Thirlby, saying, 
 " I appeal to the next general council." 
 
 When they had stripped him of all his habits, they put on him a poor 
 yeoman-beadle's gown, thread-bare and ill-shaped, and a townsman's 
 cap ; and in this manner delivered him to the secular power to be car- 
 ried back to prison, where he was kept entirely destitute of money, 
 and totally secluded from his friends. Nay, such was the fury of his 
 enemies, that a gentleman was taken into custody by Bonner, and 
 narrowly escaped a trial, for giving the poor archbishop money to buy 
 him a dinner. 
 
 Cranmer had now been imprisoned almost three years, and death 
 should have soon followed his sentence and degradation ; but his cruel 
 enemies reserved him for greater misery and insult. Every engine 
 that coidd be thought of was employed to shake his constancy ; but he 
 held fast to the profession of his faith. Nay, even when he saw the 
 barbarous martyrdom of his dear companions, Ridley and Latimer, 
 he was so far from shrinking, that he not only prayed to God to 
 strengthen them, but also, by their example, to animate him to a pa- 
 tient expectation and endurance of the same fiery trial. 
 
 The papists, after trying various severe ways to bring Cranmer over 
 without effect, at length determined to try what gentle methods would 
 do. They accordingly removed him from prison to the lodgings of 
 the dean of Christ-church, where they urged every persuasive and 
 affecting argument to make him deviate from his faith ; and, indeed, 
 too much melted his gentle nature, by the false sunshine of pretended 
 civility and respect. 
 
 The unfortunate prelate, however, Avithstood every temptation, at 
 which his enemies were so irritated, that they removed him from the 
 dean's lodgings to the most loathsome part of the prison in which he 
 had been confined, and then treated him with unparalleled severity. 
 This was more than the infirmities of so old a man could support ; the 
 frailty of human nature prevailed ; and he was induced to sign the fol- 
 lowing recantation, drawn from him by the malice and artifices of his 
 enemies : 
 
 " I, Thomas Cranmer, late archbishop of Canterbury, do renounce, 
 abhor, and detest, all manner of heresies and errors of Luther and 
 Zuinglius, and all other teachings which are contrary to sound and true 
 doctrine. And I believe most constantly in my heart, and with my 
 mouth I confess one holy and catholic church visible, Avithout which 
 there is no salvation ; and thereof I acknowledge the bishop of Rome 
 to be supreme head in earth, whom I acknowledge to be the highest 
 bishop and pope, and Christ's vicar, unto whom all Christian people 
 ought to be subject. 
 
 "And as concerning the sacraments, I believe in the worship and tlie 
 sacramentof the altar the very body and blood of Christ, being contained 
 most truly under the forms of bread and wine ; the bread throv 
 
 Oiyi^ 
 
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 3g9 
 
 the mighty power of God being turned into the body of our Saviour 
 Jesus Christ, and the wine into his blood. 
 
 " And in the other six sacraments also, (like as in this,) I believe 
 and hold as the universal church holdeth, and the church of Rome 
 judgeth and determineth. 
 
 " Furthermore, I believe that there is a place of purgatory, where 
 souls departed be punished for a time, for whom the church doth godly 
 and wholesomely pray, like as it doth honour saints and make prayers 
 to them. 
 
 " Finally, in all things, I profess that I do not otherwise believe 
 than the catholic church and church of Rome holdeth and teacheth. I 
 am sorry that ever I held or thought otherwise. And I beseech Al- 
 mighty God, that of his mercy he will vouchsafe to forgive me, what- 
 soever I have offended against God or his church, and also I desire 
 and beseech all Christian people to pray for me. 
 
 "And all such as have been deceived either by mine example or 
 doctrine, I require them, by the blood of Jesus Christ, that they will 
 return to the unity of the church, that we may be all of one mind, 
 without schism or division. 
 
 " And to conclude, as I submit myself to the Catholic church of 
 Christ, and to the supreme head thereof, so I submit myself unto the 
 most excellent majesties of Philip and Mary, king and queen of this 
 realm of England, &c. and to all other their laws and ordinances, be- 
 ing ready always as a faithful subject ever to obey them. And God 
 is my witness, that I have not done this for favour or fear of any per- 
 son, but willingly and of mine own conscience, as to the instruction 
 of others." 
 
 This recantation of the archbishop was immediately printed, and 
 distributed throughout the country ; and to establish its authenticity, 
 first was added the. name of Thomas Cranmer, with a solemn subi 
 scription, then followed the witnesses of his recantation, Henry Sydai 
 and friar John de Villa Garcina. All this time Cranmer had no cer- 
 tain assurance of his life, although it was faithfully promised to him 
 by the doctors : but after they had gained their purpose, the rest they 
 committed to chance, as usual with men of their religion. The queen, 
 having now found a time to revenge her old grudge against him, re- 
 ceived his recantation very gladly ; but would not alter her intention 
 of putting him to death. 
 
 The quaint simplicity with which the following account of the con- 
 cluding scene of this good man's life is given, renders it more valua- 
 ble and interesting than any narrative of the same transactions in 
 " modern phrase ;" we therefore give it verbatim. 
 
 Now was Dr. Cranmer in a miserable case, having neither inwardly 
 any quietness in his own conscience, nor yet outwardly any help 
 in his adversaries. 
 
 Besides this, on the one side was praise, on the other side scorn, on 
 both sides danger, so that he could neither die honestly, nor yet ho- 
 nestly live. And whereas he sought profit, he fell into double dis- 
 profit, that neither with good men he could avoid secret shame, nor 
 yet with evil men the note of dissimulation. 
 
 In the mean time, while these things were doing in the prison 
 among the doctors, the queen taking secret council how to despatch 
 Cranmer out of the way, (who as yet knew not of her secret hate, 
 
390 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 and was not expecting death) appointed Dr. Cole, and secretly gave 
 him in commandment, that against the 21st of March he should pre- 
 pare a funeral sermon for Cranmer's burning, and so instructing him 
 orderly and diligently of her will and pleasure in that behalf, sent 
 him away. 
 
 Soon after, the Lord Williams of Tame, and the Lord Shandois, Sir 
 Thomas Bridges, and Sir John Brown, were sent for, with other wor- 
 shipful men and justices, commanded in the queen's name to be at 
 Oxford on the same day, with theii servants and retinue, lest Cran- 
 mer's death should raise there any tumult. 
 
 'Dr. Cole having this lesson given him before, and charged by her 
 commandment, returned to Oxford, ready to play his part ; who, as 
 the day of execution drew near, even the day before, came into the 
 prison to Dr. Cranmer, to try whether he abode in the catholic faith 
 wherein before he had left him. To whom, when Cranmer had an- 
 swered, that by God's grace he would be daily more confirmed in the 
 catholic faith ; Cole departing for that time, the next day following 
 repaired to the archbishop again,* giving no signification as yet of his 
 death that was prepared. And therefore in the morning, which was 
 the 21st day of March, appointed for Cranmer's execution, the said 
 Cole coming to him, asked him if he had any money, to whom when 
 he had answered that he had none, he delivered fifteen crowns to give 
 to the poor, to whom he would ; and so exhorting him as much as he 
 could to constancy in faith, departed thence about his business, as to 
 his sermon appertained. 
 
 By this partly, and other like arguments, the archbishop began 
 more and more to surmise what they were about. Then because the 
 day was not far spent, and the lords and knights that were looked for 
 were not yet come, there came to him the Spanish friar, witness of 
 his recantation, bringing a paper with articles, which Cranmer should 
 openly profess in his recantation before the people, earnestly desirii-g 
 him that he would write the said instrument with the articles with xus 
 own hand, and sign it with his name : which, when he had done, the 
 said friar desired that he would write another copy thereof, which 
 should remain with him, and that he did also. But yet the archbi- 
 shop, being not ignorant whereunto their secret devices tended, and 
 thinking that the time was at hand in which he could no longer dis- 
 semble the profession of his faith with Christ's people, he put his 
 prayer and his exhortation written in another paper secretly into his 
 bosom, which he intended to recite to the people before he should 
 make the last profession of his faith, fearing lest if they heard the 
 confession of his faith first, they would not afterwards have suflTered 
 him to exhort the people. 
 
 Soon after, about nine o'clock, the Lord Williams, Sir Thomas 
 Bridges, Sir John Brown, and the other justices, with certain other 
 noblemen, that were sent of the queen's council, came to Oxford with 
 a great train of waiting men. Also of the other multitude on every 
 side (as is wont in such a matter) was made a great concourse, and 
 greater expectation : for first of all, they that were of the pope's 
 side were in great hope that day to hear something of Cranmer that 
 should establish the vanity of their opinion: the other part, who 
 were endued with a better mind, could not yet doubt that he, who by 
 continued study and labour for so many years, had set forth the do 
 
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. ggi 
 
 trine of the gospel, either would or could now in the last act of his 
 life forsake his part. Briefly, as; every man's will inclined, either to 
 this part or to that, so according to the diversity of their desires, every 
 man wished and hoped for. And yet because in an uncertain thing the 
 certainty could be known of none what would be the end ; all their 
 minds were hanging between hope and doubt. So that the greater the 
 expectation was in so doubtful a matter, the more was the multitude 
 that was gathered thither to hear and behold. 
 
 During this great expectation, Dr. Cranmer at length came from 
 the prison of Bocardo unto St. Mary's church, (because it Avas a foul 
 and^ rainy day,) the chief church in the university, in this order. 
 The mayor went before, next him the aldermen in their place and 
 degree ; after them was Cranmer brought between two friars, which 
 mumbling to and fro certain psalms in the streets, answered one 
 another until they came to the church door, and there they began the 
 song of Simeon, " Nune diviittis ;" and entering into the church, the 
 psalm-singing friars brought him to his standing, and there left him. 
 There was a stage set over against the pulpit, of a mean height from 
 the ground, where Cranmer had his standing, waiting until Dr. Cole 
 made ready for his sermon. 
 
 The lamentable case and sight of that man was a sorrowful specta- 
 cle to all Christian eyes that beheld him. He that lately was arch- 
 bishop, metropolitan, and primate of all England, and the king's 
 privy counsellor, being now in a bare and ragged gown, and illfa- 
 vouredly clothed, with an old square cap, exposed to the contempt of 
 all men, did admonish men not only of his own calamity, but also of 
 their state and fortune. For who would not pity his case, and might 
 not fear his own chance, to see such a prelate, so grave, a counsellor, 
 and of so long continued honour, after so many dignities, in his old 
 years to be deprived of his estate, adjudged to die, and in so painful 
 a death to end his life, and now presently from such fresh ornaments 
 to descend to such vile and ragged apparel ? 
 
 In this habit when he had stood a good space upon the stage, turn- 
 ing to a pillar near adjoining thereunto, he lifted up his hands to hea- 
 ven, and prayed vmto God once or twice, till at length Dr. Cole coming 
 into the pulpit, and beginning his sermon, entered first into men- 
 tion of Tobias and Zachary ; whom after he had praised in the be- 
 ginning of his sermon for their perseverance in the true worshipping 
 of God, he then divided his whole sermon into three parts (according 
 to the solemn custom of the schools,) intending to speak first of the 
 mercy of God : secondly, of his justice to be showed : and last of all, 
 how the prince's secrets are not to be opened. And proceeding a 
 little from the beginning, he took occasion by and by to turn his tale 
 to Cranmer, and with many hot words reproved him, that he being 
 one endued with the favour and feeling of wholesome and catholic 
 doctrine, fell into a contrary opinion of pernicious error ; which he 
 had not only defended by his writings, and all his power, but also al- 
 lured other men to do the like, with great liberality of gifts, as it were 
 appointing rewards for error ; and after he had allured them, by all 
 means did cherish them. 
 
 It were too long to repeat all things, that in long order were pro- 
 nounced. The sum of his tripartite declamation was, that he said 
 God's mercy was so tempered v\'ith his justice, that he did not altoge- 
 
392 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 ther require punishment according to the merits of offenders, nor yet 
 sometimes suffered the same to go altogether unpunished, yea, though 
 they had repented. As in David, who when he was bidden to choose 
 of three kinds of punishment which he would, and he had chosen pes- 
 tilence for three days, the lord forgave him half the time, but did not 
 release all ; and that the same thing came to pass in him also, to whom 
 although pardon and reconciliation was due according to the canons, 
 seeing he repented of his errors, yet there were causes why the queen 
 and the council at this time judged him to death ; of which, lest he 
 should marvel too much, he should hear some. 
 
 First ; That being a traitor, he had dissolved the lawful matrimony 
 between the king and queen, her father and mother ; besides the 
 driving out of the pope's authority, while he was metropolitan. 
 
 Secondly; That he had been a heretic, from whom, as from an 
 author and only fountain, all heretical doctrine and schismatical opi- 
 nion, that so many years have prevailed in England, did first rise and 
 spring ; of which he had not been a secret favourer only, but also a 
 most earnest defender, even to the end of his life, sowing them abroad 
 by writings and arguments, privately and openly, not without great 
 ruin and decay to the catholic church. 
 
 And farther, it seemed meet, according to the law of equality, thai 
 as the death of the late duke of Northimiberland made even with 
 Thomas More, chancellor, that died for the church ; so there should 
 be one that should make even with Fisher of Rochester ; arid because 
 that Ridley, Hooper, and Farrar, were not able to make even with 
 that man, it seemed that Cranmer should be joined to them to fill up 
 their part of the equality. 
 
 Besides these, there were other just and weighty causes, which ap- 
 peared to the queen and council, which was not meet at that time to 
 be opened to the common people. 
 
 After this, turning his tale to the hearers, he bid all men beware by 
 this man's example, that among men nothing is so high that can pro- 
 mise itself safety on the earth, and that God's vengeance is equally 
 stretched against all men, and spareth none ; therefore they should 
 beware, and learn to fear their prince. And seeing the queen's ma- 
 jesty would not spare so notable a man as this, much less in the like 
 cause would she spare other men, that no man should think to make 
 thereby any defence of his error, either in riches, or any kind of au- 
 thority. They had now an example to teach them all, by whose ca- 
 lamity every man might consider his own fortune ; who, from the top 
 of dignity, none being more honourable than he in the whole realm, 
 and next the king, was fallen into such great misery, as they might 
 see, being a person of such high degree, sometime one of the chief pre- 
 lates of the church, and an archbishop, the chief of the council, the 
 second person in the realm a long time, a man thought in great assu- 
 rance, having a king on his side ; notwithstanding all his authority and 
 defence, to be debased from high estate to a low degree, of a counsel- 
 lor to become a caitiff, and to be set in so wretched a state, that the 
 poorest wretch would not change condition with him ; briefly, so 
 heaped with misery on all sides, that neither was left in him any hope 
 of better fortune, nor place for worse. , . 
 
 The latter part of his sermon he converted to the archbishop, whom 
 he comforted and encouraged to take his death well, by many places 
 
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 393 
 
 of scripture, as with these, and such like ; bidding him not to mfe- 
 trust, but he should incontinently receive what the thief did, to whom 
 Christ said, " This day thou shalt be with me in paradise ;" and out 
 of St. Paul he armed him against the terror of fire by this, " The 
 Lord is faithful, which will not suffer you to be tempted above your 
 strength ;" by the example of the three children, to whom God made 
 the flame to seem like a pleasant dew ; adding also the rejoicing of 
 St. Andrew on his cross, the patience of St. Lawrence in the fire, 
 either would abate the fury of the flame, or give him strength to 
 abide it. 
 
 He glorified God much in his (Cranmer's) conversion, because it 
 appeared to be only His (the Almighty's) work, declaring what travail 
 and conference had been with him to convert him, and all prevailed 
 not, till that it pleased God of his mercy to reclaim him, and call him 
 home. In discoursing of which place, he much commended Cran- 
 mcr, and qualified his former doings, thus tempering his judgment and 
 talk of him, that all the time (said he) he flowed in riches and honour, 
 he was unworthy of his life ; and now that he might not live, he was 
 unworthy of death. But lest he should carry wdth him no comfort, 
 he wovdd diligently labour, (he said,) and also did promise, in the name 
 of all the priests that were present, that immediately after his death 
 there should be dirges, masses, and funerals, executed for him in all 
 the churches of Oxford, for the succour of his soul. 
 
 All this, time, with what great grief of mind Cranmer stood hearing 
 this sermon, the outward shows of his body and coimtenance did bet- 
 ter express, than any man can declare ; one while lifting up his hands 
 and eyes unto heaven, and then again for shame letting them down to 
 the earth. A man might have seen the very image and shape of per- 
 fect sorrow^, lively in him expressed. More than twenty several times 
 the tears gushed out abundantly, dropping down marvellously from 
 his fatherly face. They that were present do testify, that they never 
 saw in any child more tears than came from him at that time, during 
 the whole sermon ; but especially when he recited his prayer before 
 the people. It is marvellous what commiseration and pity moved all 
 men's hearts, that beheld so heavy a countenance, and such abundance 
 of tears in an old man of so reverend dignity. 
 
 After Cole had ended his sermon, he called back the people to 
 prayers that were ready to depart. " Brethren," said he, " lest any 
 man should doubt of this man's earnest conversion and repentance, 
 you shall hear him speak before you ; and, therefore, I pray you, Mr. 
 Cranmer, to perform that now, which you promised not long ago ; 
 namely, that you would openly express the true and undoubted pro- 
 fession of your faith, that you may take away all suspicion from men, 
 and that all men may understand that you are a catholic indeed." 
 " I will do it," said the archbishop, " and that with a good will ;" 
 who, rising up, and putting off his cap, began to speak thus unto the 
 people : 
 
 " Good Christian people, my dearly beloved brethren and sisters in 
 Christ, I beseech you most heartily to pray for me to Almighty God, 
 that he will forgive me all my sins and offences, which be many with- 
 out number, and great above measure. But yet one thing grieveth 
 my conscience more than all the rest, whereof, God willing, I intend 
 to speak more hereafter. But how great and how many soeVer my 
 
 50 
 
394 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 sins be, I beseech you to pray to God of his mercy to pardon ar 
 forgive them all." And here kneeling down, he said the following 
 prayer : 
 
 " O Father of Heaven, O Son of God, Redeemer of the world, C 
 Holy Ghost, three persons and one God, have mercy upon me, most 
 wretched caitiff and miserable sinner. I have offended both against 
 heaven and earth, more than my tongue can express. Whither ther, 
 may I go, or whither shall I flee ? To heaven I may be ashamed to 
 lift up mine eyes, and in earth I find no place of refuge or succour. 
 To thee, therefore, O Lord, do I run ; to thee do I humble myself, 
 saying, O Lord my God, my sins be great, but yet have mercy upon 
 me, for thy great mercy. The great mystery that God became man, 
 was not wrought for little or few offences. Thou didst not give thy 
 Son (O heavenly Father) unto death for small sins only, but for all the 
 greatest sins of the world, so that the sinner return to thee with his 
 whole hearts as I do at this present. Wherefore have mercy on me, 
 O God, whose property is ahvays to have mercy ; have mercy upon 
 me, O Lord, for thy great mercy. I crave nothing for mine own me 
 rits, but for thy name's sake, that it may be hallowed thereby, and foi 
 thy Son Jesus Christ's sake. And now, therefore, O Father of heaven; 
 hallowed be thy name," <fec. And then he, rising, said : 
 
 " Everyman (good people) desireth at the time of his death to give 
 some good exhortation, that others may remember the same before 
 their death, and be the better thereby ; so I beseech God grant me 
 grace, that I may speak something at this my departing, whereby Goo 
 may be glorified, and you edified. 
 
 " First ; it is a heavy cause to see that so many folk so much doa^ 
 upon the love of this false world, and be so careful for it, that of the 
 love of God, or the world to come, they seem to care very little oi 
 nothing. Therefore, this shall be my first exhortation : that you se* 
 not your minds overmuch upon this deceitful world, but upon Godj 
 and upon the world to come, and to learn to know what this lesson 
 meaneth that St. John teacheth, ' That the love of this world is 
 hatred against God.' 
 
 " The second exhortation is, that next under God you obey your 
 king and queen willingly and gladly, without murmuring or grudg- 
 ing ; not for fear of them only, but much more for the fear of God* 
 knowing that they be God's ministers, appointed by God to rule and 
 govern you ; and, therefore, whosoever resisteth them, resisteth the 
 ordinance of God. 
 
 " The third exhortation is, that you love altogether like brethren 
 and sisters. For, alas ! pity it is to see what contention and hatred 
 one Christian man beareth to another, not taking each other as brother 
 and sister, but rather as strangers and mortal enemies. But I pray 
 you learn, and bear well away this one lesson, to do good unto all 
 men, as much as in you lieth, and to hurt no man, no more than you 
 would hurt your own natural loving brother or sister. For this you 
 may be sure of, that whosoever hateth any person, and goeth about 
 maliciously to hinder or hurt him, surely, and without all doubt, God 
 is not with that man, although he think himself ever so much in 
 God's favour. 
 
 " The fourth exhortation shall be to them that have great substance 
 nd riches of this world ; that they will well consider and weigh 
 
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 395 
 
 three sayings of the scripture ; one is of our Saviour himself, who 
 saith, Luke xviii. * It is hard for a rich man to enter into the kingdom 
 of heaven.' A sore saying, and yet spoken by him who knoweth the 
 truth. 
 
 " The second is of St. John, 1 John, iii. whose saying is this, * He 
 that hath the substance of this world, and seeth his brother in neces- 
 sity, and shutteth up his mercy from him, how can he say that he 
 loveth God V 
 
 " The third is of St. James, "who speaketh to the covetous rich man 
 after this manner, * Weep you and howl for the misery that shall 
 come upon you ; your riches do rot, your clothes be moth-eaten, your 
 gold and si ver doth canker and rust, and their rust shall bear witness 
 against you, and consume you like fire ; you gather a hoard or treasure 
 of God's ind gnation against the last day.' Let them that be rich pon- 
 der well these three sentences ; for if they ever had occasion to show 
 their charity, they have it now at this present, the poor people being so 
 many, and victuals so dear. 
 
 " And now forasmuch as I am come to the last end of my life, where- 
 upon hangeth all my life past, and all my life to come, either to live with 
 my Master, Christ, for ever in joy, or else to be in pain for ever with 
 wicked devils in hell, and I see before mine eyes presently either 
 heaven ready to receive me, or else hell ready to swallow me up ; I 
 shall, therefore, declare unto you my very faith how I believe, without 
 .any colour of dissimulation ; for now is no time to dissemble, whatso- 
 ever I have said or written in times past. 
 
 " First ; I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven 
 and earth, &c. And I believe every article of the Catholic faith, 
 every word and sentence taught by our Saviour Jesus Christ, his apos- 
 tles and prophets, in the New and Old Testament. 
 
 " And now I come to the great thing which so much troubleth my 
 conscience, more than any thing that ever I did or said in my whole 
 life, and that is the setting abroad of a writing contrary to the truth; 
 which now here I renounce and refuse, as things written with my hand 
 contrary to the truth which I thought in my heart, and written for 
 fear of death, and to save my life, if it might be ; and that is, all such 
 bills and papers which I have written or signed with my hand since 
 my degradation, wherein I have written many things untrue. And 
 forasmuch as my hand hath, offended, writing contrary to my heart, 
 therefore my hand shall first be punished ; for when I come to the 
 fire, it shall be first burned. 
 
 " And as for the pope, I refuse him, as Christ's enemy, and anti- 
 christ, with all his false doctrine. 
 
 " And as for the sacrament, I believe as I have taught in my book 
 against the bishop of Winchester, which my book leacheth so true a 
 doctrine of the sacrament, that it shall stand at the last day before the 
 
 {"udgment of God, where the papistical doctrine contrary thereto shall 
 )e ashamed to show her face." 
 
 Here the standers-by were all astonished, marvelled, and amazed, 
 and looked upon one another, whose expectation he had so notably 
 deceived. Some began to admonish him of his recantation, and to 
 accuse him of falsehood. 
 
 Briefly, it was strange to see the doctors b(pguiled of so great an 
 hope. I think there was never cruelty more notably, or betteri, n time 
 
396 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 deluded and deceived. For it is not to be doubted, but they looked 
 for a glorious victory, and a perpetual triumph by this man's retrac- 
 tion. 
 
 As soon as they heard these things, they began to let down their 
 ears, to rage, fret, and fume ; and so much the more because they 
 could not revenge their grief ; for they could now no longer threaten 
 or hurt him. For the most miserable man in the world can die but 
 once ; and whereas of necessity he must needs die that day, though 
 the papists had been ever so well pleased ; being ever so much offend- 
 ed with him, yet could not he be twice killed by them. And so when 
 they could do nothing else unto him, yet lest they should say nothing, 
 they ceased not to object unto him his ftlsehood and dissimula- 
 tion. 
 
 Unto which accusation he answered, " Ah, my masters," quoth he, 
 " do you not take it so ? Always since I have lived hitherto, I have 
 been a hater of falsehood, and a lover of simplicity, and never before 
 this time have I dissembled ;" and in saying this, all the tears that re- 
 mained in his body appeared in his eyes. And when he began to speak 
 more of the sacrament and of the papacy, some of them began to cry 
 out, yelp, and bawl, and especially Cole cried out upon him, " Stop 
 the heretic's mouth, and take him away." 
 
 And then Cranmer being pulled down from the stage, was led to 
 the fire, accompanied with those friars, vexing, troubling, and threaten- 
 ino- him most cruelly. " What madness," say they, " hath brought 
 thee again into this error, by which thou wilt draw innumerable souls 
 with thee into hell ?" To whom he answered nothing, but directed all 
 his talk to the people, saving that to one troubling him in the way, he 
 spake, and exhorted him to get him home to his study, and apply to 
 his book diligently ; saying, if he did diligently call upon God by read- 
 ing more he should get knowledge. 
 
 But the other Spanish barker, raging and foaming, was almost out 
 of his wits, always having this in his mouth, Non fecesti ? " Didst 
 thou it not V 
 
 But when he came to the place where the holy bishops and mar- 
 tyrs of God, Bishop Latimer and Bishop Ridley, were burnt before 
 him for the confession of the truth, kneeling down he prayed to God ; 
 and not long tarrying in his prayers, putting off his garment to his 
 shirt, he prepared himself for death. His shirt was made long, down 
 to his feet. His feet were bare ; likewise his head, when both his 
 caps were off, was so bare that one hair could not be seen upon it. 
 His beard was so long and thick, that it covered his face with marvel- 
 lous gravity ; and his reverend countenance moved the hearts both of 
 his friends and enemies. 
 
 Then the Spanish friars, John and Richard, of whom mention was 
 made before, began to exhort him, and play their parts with him 
 afresh, but with vain and lost labour. Cranmer with steadfast purpose 
 abidino- in the profession of his doctrine, gave his hand to certain old 
 men, and others that stood by, bidding them farewell. 
 
 And when he had thought to have done so likewise to Mr. Ely, the 
 said Ely drew back his hand and refused, saying, it was not lawful to 
 salute heretics, and especially such a one as falsely returned unto the 
 opiuions that he had forsworn. And if he had known before that 
 he would have done %, he would never have used his company so 
 
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 397 
 
 familiarly, and chid those Serjeants and citizens, who had not refused 
 to give him their hands. This Mr. Ely was a student in divinity, and 
 lately made a priest, being then one of the fellows in Brazen-nose 
 College. 
 
 Then was an iron chain tied about Cranmer, and they commanded 
 the fire to be set unto him. 
 
 And when the wood was kindled, and the fire began to burn near 
 him, he stretched forth his right hand, which had signed his recanta- 
 tion, into the flames, and there held it so steadfast that all the people 
 might see it burn to a coal before his body was touched. In short, 
 he was so patient and constant in the midst of these extreme tortures, 
 that he seemed to move no more than the stake to which he was bound ; 
 his eyes were lifted up to heaven and often he repeated, " this un- 
 worthy right hand," so long as his voice would suffer him ; and as of- 
 ten using the words of the blessed martyr St. Stephen, " Lord Jesus, 
 receive my spirit," till the fury of the flames putting him to silence, 
 he gave up the ghost. 
 
 This fortitude of "mind, which perchance is rare and not found 
 among the Spaniards, wh-en Friar John saw, thinking it came not of 
 fortitude, but of desperation, although such manner of examples 
 which are of like constancy, have been common in England, he ran 
 to the Lord Williams of Tame, crying that the archbishop was vexed 
 in mind, and died in great desperation. But he, who was not igno- 
 rant of the archbishop's constancy, being unknown to the Spaniards, 
 smiled only, and as it were by silence rebuked the friar's folly. And 
 this was the end of this learned archbishop, whom, lest by evil sub- 
 scribing he should have perished, by well recanting, God preserved ; 
 and lest he should have lived longer with shame and reproof, it pleased 
 God rather to take him away, to the glory of his name and profit of 
 his church. So good Avas the Lord both to his church, in fortifying 
 the same with the testimony and blood of such a martyr ; and so good 
 also to the man with this cross of tribulation, to purge his offences in 
 this world, not only of his recantation, but also of his standmg against 
 John Lambert and Mr. Allen, or if they were any other, with whose 
 burning or blood his hand had been any thing before polluted. But 
 especially he had to rejoice, that dying in such a cause, he was num- 
 bered amongst the martyrs of Christ, and much more Avorthy of the 
 name of St. Thomas of Canterbury, than he whom the pope falsely 
 before did canonize. 
 
 Thus died Thomas Cranmer, in the 67th year of his age. He was 
 a man of great candour, and a firm friend, which appeared signally in 
 the misfortunes of Anne Boleyn, Cromwell, and the duke of Somer- 
 set. In his writings he rather excelled in great industry and good 
 judgment, than in a quickness of apprehension, or a closeness of 
 style. He employed his revenues on pious and charitable uses ; and 
 in his table he was truly hospitable, for he entertained great numbers 
 of his poor neighbours often at it. The gentleness and humility of his 
 deportment were very remarkable. His last fall was the greatest 
 blemish of his life, yet that was exp^'ated by a sincere repentance ; 
 and while we drop a tear over this melancholy instance of human 
 frailty, we must acknowledge with praise the interposition of Divine 
 Providence in his return to the truth. And it seemed necessary that 
 
898 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 the reformation of the church, being the restoring of the primitive 
 and apostolic doctrine, should. have been chiefly carried on by a man 
 thus eminent for primitive and apostolic virtues. 
 
 SECTION X. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS AND MARTYRDOMS OF VARIOUS PERSONS, AFTER THE 
 DEATH OF ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 
 
 The force of bigotry in the breast of the unrelenting Mary, only 
 terminated with her life. The destruction of those who could not 
 think as she did, was her principal employment, and her greatest 
 pleasure. Her emissaries were continually " seeking whom they 
 might devour ;" and the martyrdoms and cruelties inflicted under her 
 orders, will load her name with indelible infamy. 
 
 Martyrdom.s of John Maundrel, William Cdberly, and John Spicer. 
 
 John Maundrel was the son of Robert Maundrel, of Rowd, in , the 
 county of Wilts, farmer ; he was from his childhood brought up to 
 husbandry, and Avhen he came to man's estate, he dwelt in a village 
 called Buckhampton, in the above county, where he lived in good 
 repute. After the scripture was translated into English, by William 
 Tindal, this John Maundrel became a diligent hearer thereof, and a 
 fervent embracer of God's true religion, so that he delighted in 
 nothing so much as to hear and speak of God's word, never being 
 without the NeAV Testament about him, although he could not read 
 hiftiself, as was at that period too frequently the case among persons 
 in his station of life. But when he came into the company of any 
 one who could read, his book was always ready ; and having a very 
 good memory, he could recite by heart most places of the New 
 Testament ; and his life and conversation were very honest and 
 charitable. 
 
 In the reign of King Henry the Eighth, wh,en Dr. Trigonion and 
 Dr. Lee visited the abbeys, John Maundrel was brought before Dr. 
 Trigonion, at an abbey called Edyngton, in Wiltshire ; where he 
 was accused that he had spoken against the holy water and holy 
 bread, and such like ceremonies, and was condemned to wear a 
 white sheet, bearing a candle in his hand, about the market, in the 
 town of Devizes. Nevertheless, his fervency did not abate, but, by 
 God's merciful assistance, he took better hold, as the sequel will 
 declare. 
 
 In the days of Queen Mary, when popery was restored again, and 
 God's true religion put to silence. Maundrel left his own house and 
 went into Gloucestershire, and into the north part of Wiltshire, wan- 
 dering from one to another to such men as he knew feared God, with 
 whom, as a servant to keep their cattle, he remained some time ; he 
 afterwards returned to his own county, and coming to Devizes, to a 
 friend of his, named Anthony Clee, he mentioned his intention of re- 
 turning home to his house. 
 
 And when his friend exhorted him by the v/ords of scripture to flee 
 from one city to another, he replied again by the words of the Reve- 
 
MAUNDREL, COBERLY, AND SPICER. 399 
 
 lations of them that be fearful, and said, that he must needs go home ; 
 and so he did ; and here he, Spicer, and Coberly, used at times to 
 resort and confer together. 
 
 At length they agreed together to go to the parish church, where, 
 seeing the parishioners in the procession, following and worshipping 
 the idol there carried, they advised them to leave the same, and to 
 return to the living God, particularly speaking to one Robert Barks- 
 dale, the principal man of the parish, but he paid no regard to their 
 words. 
 
 After this the vicar came into the pulpit, and being about to read 
 his bead-roll, and to pray for the souls in purgatory, John Maundrelj 
 speaking with an audible voice, said, that was the pope's pinfold, the 
 other two affirming the same. Upon which words, by command of 
 the priest, they were put in the stocks, where they remained till the 
 service was done, and then were brought before a justice of the peace ; 
 the next day they were all three carried to Salisbury, and taken be- 
 fore Bishop Capon, and William Geffrey, chancellor of the diocese ; 
 by whom they were imprisoned, and oftentimes examined concerning 
 their faith, in their houses, but seldom openly. And at the last exami- 
 nation the usual articles being alleged against them, they answered, 
 as Christian men should and ought to believe : and first they said, they 
 believed in God the Father, and in the Son, and in the Holy Ghost, 
 the twelve articles of the creed, the holy scripture from the first of 
 Genesis to the last of the Revelation. 
 
 But that faith the chancellor would not allow. Wherefore he pro- 
 posed them in particular articles : First, whether they did not believe 
 that in the sacrament of the altar, (as he termed it,) after the words 
 of consecration spoken by the priest at mass, there remained no sub- 
 stance of bread nor wine, but Christ's body, flesh, and blood, as he 
 was born of the Virgin Mary. To which they answered negatively, 
 saying that the popish mass was abominable idolatry, and injurious to 
 the blood of Christ ; but confessing, that in a faithful congregation, 
 receiving the sacrament of Christ's body and blood, being duly admi- 
 nistered according to Christ's institution, Christ's body and blood is 
 spiritually received o£-JJie faithful believer. 
 
 Also, being asked whether the pope was supreme head of the 
 church, and Christ's vicar on earth ; they answered negatively, say- 
 ing, that the bishop of Rome doth usurp over emperors and kings, 
 being antichrist and God's enemy. 
 
 The chancellor said, " Will you have the church without a head ?" 
 They answered, " Christ was head of his church, and under Christ 
 the queen's majesty." 
 
 " What," said the chancellor, " a woman head of the church?' 
 " Yea," said they, " within her grace's dominions." 
 
 They were also asked whether the souls in purgatory were delivered 
 by the pope's pardon, and the suffrages of the church. 
 
 They said, they believed faithfully that the blood of Christ had 
 purged their sins, and the sins of them that were saved, unto the end 
 of the world, so that they feared nothing of the pope's pu.rgatcry, nor 
 esteemed his pardons. 
 
 Also, whether images were necessary to be in the churches, as 
 laymen's books, and saints to be prayed unto and worshipped. 
 
 They answered negatively, John Mavmdrel adding, " that wooden 
 
400 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 images were good to roast a shoulder of mutton, but evil in the church ; 
 whereby idolatry was committed." 
 
 Those articles being thus answered, the chancellor read their con- 
 demnation, and so delivered them to the sheriff, who was present 
 during the examination. John Spicer then said, " O, master sheriff, 
 now must you be their butcher, that you may be guilty also with them 
 of innocent blood before the Lord." This was on the 22d day of 
 March, 1556, and on the following day, they were c?irried out of the 
 common gaol to a place between Salisbury and Wilton, where were 
 two stakes set for them to be burnt at. Upon coming to the place, 
 they kneeled down, and made their prayers secretly together, and 
 then being undressed to their shirts, John Maundrel cried out with a 
 loud voice, " Not for ail SaHsbury !" Which words were understood 
 to be an answer to the sheriff, who offered him the queen's pardon if 
 he would recant. And after that John Spicer said, " This is the joy- 
 fullest day that ever I saw." Thus were the three burnt at two 
 stakes ; where most constantly they gave their bodies to the fire, and 
 their souls to the Lord, for the testimony of his truth. 
 
 The wife of William Coberly, being also apprehended, was detained 
 in the keeper's house at the same time that her husband was in pri- 
 son. The keeper's wife, Agnes Penicote, having secretly heated a 
 key red hot, laid it in the back-yard, and desired Alice Coberly to 
 fetch it to her in all haste ; the poor woman went immediately to bring 
 it, and taking it up in haste, burnt her hand terribly. Whereupon 
 she crying out, " Ah ! thou drab," cried the keeper's wife, " thou 
 that canst not abide the burning of the key, how wilt thou be able to 
 abide the burning of thy whole body ?" And indeed, she was weak 
 enough to recant. 
 
 But to return to the story of Coberly ; he being at the stake, was 
 somewhat long in burning : after his body was scorched with the 
 flames, and the flesh of his left arm entirely consumed by the violence 
 of the fire, at length lie stooped over the chain, and with the right 
 hand, which was less injured, smote upon his breast softly, the blood 
 gushing out of his mouth. Afterwards, when all thought hehad been 
 dead, suddenly he rose upright again, but shortly after expired, fol- 
 lowing his companions to the realms of eternal glory and felicity. 
 
 Martyrdoms of Richard and Thomas Spurg, John Cavill, and George 
 Ambrose, Laymen ; and of Robert Drake and William Tims, 
 Ministers. 
 
 These six pious Christians resided in the county of Essex. Being 
 accused of heresy, they were all apprehended, and sent by the Lord 
 Rich, and other commissioners, at different times, to Bishop Gardi- 
 ner, lord chancellor ; who, after a short examination, sent ihe four 
 first to the Marshalsea prison in the borough, and the two last to the 
 King's Bench, where they continued during a whole year, till the 
 death of Bishop Gardiner. 
 
 When Dr. Heath, archbishop of York, succeeded to the chancel- 
 lorship, four of these persecuted biethren, namely, Richard and Tho- 
 mas Spurg, John Cavill, and George Ambrose, weary of their tedious 
 confinement, presented a petition to the lord chancellor, subscribing 
 their names, and requesting his interest for their enlargement. 
 
SPURG, CAVILL, AMBROSE, DRAKE, AND TIMS. 4OI 
 
 A short time after the delivery of this petition, Sir Richard Read, 
 one of the officers of the court of Chancery, was sent by the chancel- 
 lor to the Marshalsea to examine them. 
 
 Richard Spurg, the first who passed examination, being asked the 
 cause of his imprisonment, replied, that he, with several others, being 
 complained of by the minister of Bocking for not coming to their 
 parish church, to the Lord Rich, was thereupon sent up to London 
 by his lordship, to be examined by the late chancellor. 
 
 He acknowledged that he had not been at church since the English 
 service was changed into Latin, (except on Christmas day was 
 twelvemonth,) because he disliked the same, and the mass also, as 
 not agreeable to God's holy word. 
 
 He then desired that he might be no farther examined concerning 
 this matter, until it pleased the present chancellor to inquire his faith 
 concerning the same, which he was ready to testify. 
 
 Thomas Spurg, on his examination, answered to the same effect 
 with the other, confessing that he absented himself from church, be- 
 cause the word of God was not there truly taught, nor the sacraments 
 of Christ duly administered, as prescribed by the same word. 
 
 Being farther examined touching his faith in the sacrament of the 
 altar ; he said, that if he stood accused in that particular, he would 
 answer as God had given him knowledge, which he should do at an- 
 other opportunity. 
 
 John Cavill likewise agreed in the chief particulars with his bre- 
 thren : but farther said, the cause of his absenting himself from church 
 was, that the minister there had advanced two doctrines contrary to 
 each other ; for first, in a sermon which he delivered when the queen 
 came to the crown, he exhorted the people to believe the gospel, de- 
 claring it to be the truth, and that if they believed it not, they would 
 be damned ; and secondly, in a future discourse, he declared that the 
 New Testament was false in forty places ; which contrariety gave 
 Cavill much disgust, and was, among other things, the cause of his 
 absenting himself from church. 
 
 George Ambrose answered to the same effect, adding, moreover, 
 that after he had read the late bishop of Winchester's book, entitled, 
 De vera Ohedi&ntia, with Bishop Bonner's preface thereunto annexed, 
 both inveighing against the authority of the bishop of Rome, he es- 
 teemed their principles more lightly than he had done before. 
 
 Robert Drake was minister of Thundersly, in Essex, to which liv- 
 ing he had been presented by Lord Rich in the reign of Edward VI. 
 when he was ordained priest by Dr. Ridley, then bishop of London, 
 according to the reformed English service of ordination. 
 
 On the accession of Queen Mary to the throne of England, he was 
 sent for by Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, who demanded of him 
 whether he would conform, like a good subject, to the laws of the 
 realm then in force ? He answered, that he would abide by those 
 laws that were agreeable to the law of God ; upon which he was im- 
 mediately committed to prison. 
 
 William Tims was a deacon and curate of Hockley, in Essex, in 
 the reign of Edward VI., but being deprived of his living soon after 
 the death of that monarch, he absconded, and privately preached in a 
 neighbouring wood, whither many of his flock attended to hear the 
 word of God. 
 
 51 
 
40S BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 In consequence of these proceedings he was apprehended by one of 
 the constables, and sent up to the bishop of London, by whom he was 
 referred to Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, and lord-chancellor, who 
 committed him to the king's bench prison. 
 
 A short time after his confinement, he (with the others beforemen- 
 tioned) was ordered to appear before the bishop of London, who 
 questioned him in the usual manner, concerning his faith in the sa 
 crament of the altar. 
 
 Mr. Tims answered, that the body of Christ was not in the sacra- 
 ment of the altar, really and corporeally, after the words of consecra- 
 tion spoken by the priest ; and that he had been a long time of that 
 opinion, ever since it had pleased God, of his infinite mercy, to call 
 him to the true knowledge of the gospel of his grace. 
 
 On the 28th of March, 1556, these six persons were all brought 
 into the consistory court, in St. Paul's church, before the bishop of 
 London, in order to be examined, for the last time ; when he assured 
 them, that if they did not submit to the church of Rome, they should 
 be condemned for heresy. 
 
 The bishop began his examination with Tims, whom he called the 
 ringleader of the others ; he told him that he had taught them here- 
 sies, confirmed them in their erroneous opinions, and endeavoured, 
 as far as in him lay, to render them as abominable as himself; with 
 many other accusations equally false and opprobrious. 
 
 He was then asked by the bishop what he had to say in his own 
 vindication, in order to prevent him from proceeding against him as 
 his ordinary. To which he replied as follows : 
 
 " My lord, I am astonished that you should begin your charge with 
 a falsehood ; and aver that I am the ringleader of the company now 
 brought before you, and have taught them principles contrary to the 
 Romish church, since we have been in confinement ; but the injustice 
 of this declaration will soon appear, if you will inquire of these my 
 brethren, whether, when at liberty, and out of prison, they dissented 
 not from popish principles as much as they do at present ; such in 
 quiry, I presume, will render it evident, that they learned not theii 
 religion in prison. 
 
 " For my own part, I declare I never knew them, till such time as I 
 became their fellow-prisoner ; how thsn could I be their ringleader 
 and teacher ? With respect to the charge alleged against me, a 
 charge which you endeavour to aggravate to the highest degree, 
 whatever opinion you maintain concerning me, I am well assured I 
 hold no other religion than what Christ preached, the apostles wit- 
 nessed, the primitive church received, and of late the apostolical and 
 evangelical preachers of this realm have faithfully taught, and foi 
 which you have cruelly caused them to be burnt, and now seek to 
 treat us with the like inhuman severity. I acknowledge you to be 
 my ordinary." 
 
 The bishop, finding it necessary to come to the point with him, 
 demanded, if he would submit to the holy mother church, promising, 
 that if he did, he should be kindly received ; and threatening, at the 
 same time, that if he did not, judgment should be pronounced against 
 him as a heretic. 
 
 In answer to this, Tims told his lordship he was well persuaded that 
 he was within the pale of the catholic church, whatever he might 
 
SPURG, CAVILL, AND OTHERS. 403 
 
 think; and reminded him, that he had most solemnly abjured that 
 very church to which he since professed such strenuous allegiance ; 
 and that, contrary to his oath, he again admitted in this realm the 
 authority of the pope, and was, therefore, perjured and forsworn in 
 the highest degree. He also recalled to his memory, that he had 
 spoken with great force and perspicuity against the usurped power 
 of the pope, though he afterwards sentenced persons to be burnt, 
 because they would not acknowledge the pope to be the supreme 
 head of the church. 
 
 On this Bonner sternly demanded, what he had written against the 
 church of Rome? 
 
 Mr. Tims pertinently answered, " My lord, the Jate bishop of Win- 
 chester wrote a very learned treatise, entitled Be vera Obedientia, 
 which contains many solid arguments against the papal supremacy : 
 to this book you wrote a preface, strongly inveighing against the 
 bishop of Rome, reproving his tyranny and usurpation, and showing 
 that his power was ill-founded, and contrary both to the will of God, 
 and the real interest of mankind." 
 
 The bishop, struck with the poignancy of this reproof, evasively 
 told him that the bishop of Winchester wrote a book against the su- 
 premacy of the pope's holiness, and he wrote a preface to the same 
 book, tending to the same purpose : but that the cause of the same 
 arose not from their disregard to his holiness, but because it was then 
 deemed treason by the law of the realm to maintain the pope's au- 
 thority in England. 
 
 He also observed, that at such time it was dangerous to profess to 
 favour the church of Rome, and therefore fear compelled them to 
 comply with the prevailing opinions of the times : for if any person 
 had conscientiously acknowledged the pope's authority in those days, 
 he would have been put to death ; but that since the queen's happy 
 accession to the throne, they might boldly speak the dictates of their 
 consciences ; and farther reminded him, that as my lord of Winches- 
 ter was not ashamed to recant his errors at St. Paul's cross, and that 
 he himself had done the same, every inferior clergyman should fol- 
 low the example of his superiors. 
 
 Mr. Tims, still persisting in the vindication of his own conduct, and 
 reprehension of that of the bishop, again replied, " My lord, that 
 which you have written against the supremacy of the pope may be 
 well proved from scripture to be true ; that which you now do is con- 
 trary to the word of God, as I can sufficiently prove." 
 
 Bonner, after much farther conversation, proceeded according to 
 the form of law, causing his articles, with the respective answers to 
 each, to be publicly read in court. 
 
 Mr. Tims acknowledged only two sacraments. Baptism and the 
 Lord's Supper; commended the bishop of Winchester's book De 
 vera Obedientia, and the bishop of London's preface to the same. 
 He declared that the mass was blasphemy of Christ's passion and 
 death ; that Christ is not corporeally but spiritually present in the 
 sacrament, 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 the interpretation of the fathers. 
 
 Our martyr frankly declared he would not conform thereunto, not* 
 
404 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 withstanding the execrations denounced against him by the church of 
 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 }\js 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 Api-il, 1556, the day appointed for their execution, 
 they were all led to Smilhfield, 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 Mendlesham, 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- 
 lenting persecutors very seldom allowed their victims to escape. 
 
 The following account of his examinations was written by himself. 
 
 His first Examination before Df. 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, Avhat 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 
 ffith 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 1, 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 supremo 
 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 for 
 that presumptuous seat of antichrist. 
 
406 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 Bishop. It IS maliciously spoken, for thou must obey the power 
 and not the man. Well, what sayestthou to the ceremonies of the 
 church ? 
 
 And I 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 ye seek to be in bondage to these weak 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 warship 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, anl 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 teach ; 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 
 soon angry ;" and he would have found that he has other and very different duties, 
 than persecuting and reviling the advocates of the gospel. 
 
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 the right hand of his 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 worship 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 an§^wer, 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 that 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 which 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 
 shriven 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 UF 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 resist 
 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 doe- 
 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 whether it was pronounced or not is 
 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 aflfection 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. AtCoventry? What, so far, man? How earnest thou hither? 
 Who sent thee to the King's Bench prison? 
 
 Careless. I was brought hither by a writ, I think ; what it was I 
 cannot tell. I suppose master Marshal can tell you. 
 
 Marshal. In good faith I cannot tell what the matter is ; but indeed 
 my lord chief justice sent him from the bar. 
 
JOHN CARELESS. 
 
 409 
 
 Martin. Well, Careless, I would thou sliouldst play the wise man's 
 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 suffer here for a little time. 
 
 Martin. Yea, marry, you say truth. For thou art so predestinate 
 to life, that thou canst 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 occiipied. 
 
 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 not 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 
 shall 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. 
 
 Cai-eless. 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 
 than needeth. 
 
 Careless. I believe that Almighty God, our mo&t dear and loving 
 
 52 
 
4iO BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 Patter, of his great mercy and infinite goodness (through Jesus 
 Christ) 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? 
 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. 
 
 Ca7'eZessj Whatsoever hath been told you, it is not much material 
 unto rne. 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 the 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 thai 
 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^n, 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. Doctor, 1 would 
 full glciJly 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 speakest so much 
 
JOHN CARELESS. 411 
 
 of the Lord, the Lord ! Wilt thou be content to go with my Lord 
 Fitzwater into Ireland ? Methinks thou art a handsome 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 ready 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 will not 
 say so. How say you, 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 vinto all things 
 that pertain unto a true Christian subject to do. And if her grace or 
 her officers 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 worthy brethren have 
 done, praised be God for them. 
 
 Martin. By my troth, thou art as pleasant a fellow as ever I talked 
 with, of all the protestants, except it were 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, which 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 with ,us. 
 
 Martin. No, Careless, this is not so ; there thou art deceived. 
 
 Careless. Verily it is so, master Doctor ; I am not deceived therein 
 any thing at all, as it hath been, and is, evidently proved by such as 
 God hath endued with great learning. 
 
 Then he turned to the marshal, and whispered with 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, th« 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. Whereunto they all 
 said Amen. And so I departed with a glad heart; God only hay* 
 the whole praise. Amen, 
 
 It appears that Careless had suffered two years imprisonpaent at 
 Coventry, which much distressed his wife and children, who depended 
 on him for support. 
 
 After that, being brought to London, he 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 pleading 
 God to prevent him by death in the prison, he was buried under f 
 dunghill in the fields, by order of the persecxitors. 
 
412 BOOK OF 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 son of a reputable merchant, and born in the 
 city of Coventry. He received his first education at the free school 
 of that place ; after vv^hich he was sent to Oxford, where, in process ot 
 time, he obtained a fellowship in Magdalen college, in that university. 
 
 As he was brought up a zealous papist, he refused 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 time 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, a.nd, by close application 
 himself, joined to the interest of his friends, was reinstated in his 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 expul- 
 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 of 
 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 their 
 profession ; but when 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 was 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 on tie Corinthians, and read many other well written 
 treatises on r'jfigior;, till, at length, he became as zealous an asserter 
 of the protostant caus"^, as he before had been an obstinate opposer of it. 
 He now began to absent himself from mass, and other popish ser- 
 vices itnd ceremonies ; lut findirig 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, Avhich 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 adherence 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 ci-uelty, 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- 
 pose not the true doctrine of Christ, but defend it to my utmost 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 OP MARTYRS. 
 
 there, either in money or goods, as his father bequeathed nothing to 
 heretics. 
 
 Our martyr, as became a true follower of the blessed Jesus, when 
 he was reviled, reviled not again, but committed his cause to Him 
 who juiigelh 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 
 jman." 
 
 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 protestant, (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, with his usual sincerity 
 and oponness 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 following crimes: 
 
 1. That he said the queen's sword wn' 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, resort- 
 ing 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 aloiu' vith his said landlady, bv the 
 
JULIUS PALMER 4)5 
 
 fireside, the door being shut, thereby suspecting him of incontinency 
 with her. 
 
 Three men, who were 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 did 
 not choose to discharge him immediately, yet he thought of doing 
 it as soon as a convenient opportunity should offer. 
 
 While Mr. Palmer was in prison, he was 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 Ave hear that you 
 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 God be praised 
 for it, I have so purged myself and detected their falsehood, that from 
 henceforth I shall be no more molested therewith." 
 
 When 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, Avho 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, v/here they found one John Gwin, 
 who was confined there for professing the truth of the gospel. 
 
 On Tuesday, July 10, 1556, 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, John Win- 
 chom, Esq. and the minister of Inglefield, repaired thither, 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 OP 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 
 writings 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 
 revoke 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 tjsume the clerical function, to procure him an advanta- 
 geous farm. 
 
 Mr. Palmer heartily thanked hina 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 Vi^ere 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. 
 
 Jeflrey 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 draAvn up, 
 they asked him if he would recant 1 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 : remember 
 the words of our Saviour Christ, v/ho 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, but are not able to hurt the soul : God is faithful, 
 
 53 
 
418 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 and will not suffer us to be tempted above what we are able to bear 
 We shall end our lives in the fire, but we shall exchange them for a 
 better life : yea, for coals we shall receive pearls ; for God's spirit 
 certifieth 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 Jcsu, 
 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. 
 
 Martyrdovi of three Women and an Infant, in Guernsey 
 
 Of all the singular and tragical histories in this book, nothing 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. 41 9 
 
 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 they were, consequently, condemned to be 
 burnt. 
 
 After sentence was pronounced, the hapless Avomen 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, who was then in a very ad- 
 vanced stage of pregnancy, fell on her side, and her womb bursting 
 asunder, 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 
 laid 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 Avhole world may see the Hero- 
 dian cruelty of this graceless generation of popish tormentors, to their 
 perpetual shame and infamy. 
 
 " Now," says Mi-. 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- 
 annned, 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 was 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 sacra-ment 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 V 
 
 The young man answered, " As my creed doth teach me." 
 
 Then said the bishop, " And what is yonder that thou seest above 
 %hfi 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, 1.556. 
 
 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 sacrament 
 of the altar ? Tell me. 
 
/OHN JACKSON. ^^^ 
 
 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 
 the 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 sacrament 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 hira 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 unto 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, Avho 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. 
 
 Cook. You are a good fellow. 
 
 Jackson. I am that I am. 
 
 Tlien Dr. Cook said to my keeper, have him to prison again. 
 
 I am contented with that, said I ; and .=o we departed. 
 
 I ansAvered no further in this matter, because I thought he should 
 
423 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 not have my blood in a corner. But I hope, in the living God, that 
 when the lime 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 lellow-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 Derhy.. 
 
 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 directed 
 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- 
 sipn 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 who maintained contrary doc- 
 trines, she was brought before Dr. Ralph Bayn, 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 official ; 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 Allhallows, 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 whom 
 had suffered imprisonment, and others death, for the same doctrine. 
 
 Among others, she mentioned Dr, Taylor, and asked, if they 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, Tslind, 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 offered,) 
 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 what they required her to believe, she wouM 
 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 deprived 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 at 
 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, were burnt at Mayfield, in Sussex. 
 And, 
 
 On the 27th of the same month, one John Horn, and a woman, 
 whose name is unknown, suffered at Wooten-under-Edge, in Glouces- 
 tershire. 
 
424 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 All these martyrs submitted to their fate with the most Christian 
 fortitude, giving glory to God for having numbered them among the 
 foUovrers 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: — William Foster, Alice Potkins, and John Archer, 
 who had been condemned ; John Clark, and Dustan Chittenden, who 
 had not been condemned. 
 
 The cruel usage these unhappy persons suffered from their unfeel- 
 ing persecutors, is displayed in a letter written by one of t?iem, 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 
 vanls do spend it, so that we have nothing thereof; and thus the 
 keeper keepeth away our victuals from us ; insomuch, that there are 
 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 thereumo 
 .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 v/ho 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. 
 
FURTI3ER PERSECTITIONS. 4^0 
 
 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, bishop of London, she determined to compel all 
 her subjects, who differed from herself in religious sentiments, either 
 to submit to her maxims, or fall victims to her insatiable vengeance. 
 
 To facilitate this hori'id 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, (fee. 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; Rov\^land 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 England, 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 offenders, and the repressing of such like offences, 
 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 tvyelve 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 oui* people and subjects, 
 by books, lies, tales, or otherwise, in any coimty, key, bowing, or 
 other place or places, within this our realm of England, or elsewhere, 
 in any place, or places, bevond the seas, and of the bringers in, 
 
 54 
 
4ab" BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 utterers, buyers, sellers, readers, keepers, or conveyers of any such 
 letter, book, rumour, and tale ; and of all and every their coadjutors, 
 counsellors, comforters, procurers, abettors, and maintainers, 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 foi 
 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 Avater, or otherwise do misuse them- 
 selves in any church, or other hallowed places, wheresoever any of 
 the same offences 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, quarrelers, 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 to 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 due 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 
 the 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 their appearance 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 offending, 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 
 8th 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, who 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, reve- 
 rence, and duty, to understand, that going to London upon Thursday 
 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 wdth 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 to Sir John 
 Gresham, then being with me, to tell the mayor and the s.^oriffs that 
 this thing was not well suffered in the city. These nai- jr^Iity here- 
 
428 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 tics, all the way they came through Cheapside, both fixhorted the jieo- 
 ple to their part, and had much comfort from the pi omiscuous 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 Avon them, 
 causing divers learned men to talk with them ; and finding nothing 
 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 time 
 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, &c. 
 We dp understand it to be a figurative speech, as the common man- 
 ner of his language was in parables, and dark sentences, that they 
 which were carnally minded should see with their eyes, and not un- 
 derstand ; sigilifying this, that as he did break the bread among 
 them, being but one loaf, and they all were partakers thereof, so we, 
 through his body, in that it was broken and offered upon the cross for 
 us, are all partakers thereof; and his blood cleanseth us from our 
 sins, and hath pacified God's wrath towards us, and made the atonfe 
 
gUPPLICATION OF THE PRISONERS. 4-2§ 
 
 ment between God and us, if we walk henceforth in the light, even as 
 he is the true light. 
 
 " And that he said further. Do this in remembrance- of me ; it is a 
 memorial and token of the sufferings and death of Jesus Christ : 
 and he commanded it for this cause, that the followers of Christ should 
 come together to show his death, and to thank him for his benefits, 
 and magnify his holy name ; and so to break bread, apd drink the 
 wine, in remembrance that Christ had given his body and shed his 
 blood for us. 
 
 " Thus you may well perceive though Christ called the bread his 
 body, and wine his blood, yet it followeth not, that the substance of 
 his body should be in the bread and wine, as divers places in scripture 
 are spoken by the apostles in like phrase of speech, as in John xv. 
 / am the true vine. Also in John x. / am the door. And as it is 
 written in the ninth chapter to the Hebrews, and in Exodus xxiv. 
 how Moses took the blood of calves, and sprinkled both the book and 
 all the people, saying. This is the blood of the covenant or testament. 
 And also in the fifth chapter of Ezekiel, how the Lord said unto 
 him concerning the third part of his hair, saying, This is Jerusa- 
 lem, &c. 
 
 " Thus we see how the scriptures speak in figures, and ought to be 
 spiritually examined, and not as they would have us to say, that the 
 bodily presence of Christ is in the bread, which is a blasphemous un- 
 derstanding of the word, and contrary to the holy scriptures. 
 
 " Also, we see that great idolatry is sprung out of the misunder- 
 standing of the words of Christ, This is my body, and yet daily 
 springeth, to the great dishonour of God ; so that men worship a piece 
 of bread for God ; yea, and hold that to be their maker." 
 
 After this confession of their faith and doctrine was written and 
 exhibited, they also drew up a letter in the form of a short supplica- 
 tion, or rather an admonidon to the judges and commissioners, re^ 
 quiring that justice and judgment, after the rule of God's word, might 
 be administered unto them. This letter was as follows : 
 
 " A Supplication of the Prisoners to the Judges. 
 
 "To the right honourable audience, before whom our writings and 
 the confession of our faith shall come : we poor prisoners, being fast 
 in bonds, upon the trial of our faith, which we offer to be tried by the 
 scriptures, pray most heartily, that forasmuch as God hath given 
 you power and strength over us, as concerning our bodies, under 
 whom we submit ourselves as obedient subjects in all things, ye, be- 
 ing officers and rulers of the people, may execute true judgment, 
 keep the laws of righteousness, govern the people, and defend the 
 cause of the poor and helpless. 
 
 "God, for his Son, Jesus Christ's sake, give you the wisdom and 
 understanding of Solomon, David, Hezekiah, Moses, with divers 
 other most virtuous rulers, by whose wisdom and godly understand- 
 ing, the people were justly ruled and governed in fear of God, all 
 wickedness was by them overthrown and beaten down, and all godli- 
 ness and virtue did flourish and spring. O God, which art the most 
 high, the creator and maker of all things, and of all men, both great 
 and small, and carest for all alike, who dost try all men's works and 
 imaginations, before whose judgment-seat shall come both high and 
 
430 BOOK OP MARTYRS. ' 
 
 low, rich and poor ; we most humbly beseech thee to put into our 
 rulers' hearts the pure love and fear of that name, that even as they 
 themselves would be judged, and as they shall make answer before 
 thee, so they may hear our causes, judge with mercy, and read over 
 these our requests and confessions of our faith with deliberation and 
 a godly judgment. 
 
 " And if any thing here seemeth to you to be erroneous or disa- 
 greeing with the scripture, if it shall please your lordships to hear us 
 patiently, which do offer ourselves to be tried by the scriptures, 
 thereby to make answer ; and, in so doing, we poor subjects being in 
 much captivity and bondage, are bound to pray for your noble estate 
 and long preservation." 
 
 Notwithstanding the request of these men was so just, and their 
 doctrine so sound, yet the bishop, and the other judges, would have 
 passed sentence on them, had it not been for Cardinal Pole, and some 
 others, who thought the putting to death of so many at one time, would 
 produce a great disturbance among the people. It was therefore de- 
 creed, that they should make a submission, or confession, and, there- 
 upon, be discharged. This they readily agreed to ; and the following 
 paper was drawn up and signed by them. 
 
 " Because our Saviour at his last supper took bread, and when he 
 had given thanks, he brake it, and gave it unto his disciples, and said, 
 ' Take, eat, this is my body which is given for you, this do in remem- 
 brance of me ;' therefore, according to the words of our Saviour Jesus 
 Christ, we do believe in the sacrament to be spiritually Christ's body. 
 And likewise he took the cup, gave thanks, and gave it to his disci- 
 ples, and said, ' This is my blood of the New Testament which is shed 
 for many ;' therefore likewise do we believe that it is spiritually the 
 blood of Christ, according as his church doth administer the same. 
 Unto which catholic church of Christ we do, like as in all other mat- 
 ters, submit ourselves, promising therein to live as it becometh good 
 Christian men, and here in this realm to behave ourselves as becometh 
 faithful subjects unto our most gracious king and queen, and to all 
 other superiors, both spiritual and temporal, according to our bounden 
 duties." 
 
 The whole twenty-two persons brought from Colchester respectivB- 
 ly subscribed their names to this submission ; as did also six others 
 who had been apprehended in London, and were brought up with 
 them at the same time for examination. The names of the whole were 
 as follow: 
 
 John Atkyn, Allen Sympson, Richard George, Thomas Firefanne, 
 William Munt, Richard Joly, Richard Gratwick, Thomas Winssey, 
 Richard Rothe, Richard Clarke, Stephen Glover, Robert Colman 
 Thomas Merse, William Bongeor, Robert Bercock, Margaret Hyde, 
 Elyn Euring, Christian Pepper, Margaret Field, Alice Munt, Joan 
 Winsley, Cicely Warren, Rose Allen, Ann Whitlocke, George Barber, 
 John Saxby, Thomas Locker, and Alice Locker. 
 
 In consequence of their submission, they were all immediately set 
 at liberty ; though several of them were afterwards apprehended, and 
 put to death. One of the women, Margaret Hyde, escaped their re- 
 sentment but a short time, being one in the list we have next to bring 
 forward, of those who suffered for the truth of the gospel. 
 
liOSEBY, RAMSEY, AND OTHERS. 431 
 
 Martyrdoms of Thomas Loseby, Henry Ramsey, Thomas Thyrtell, 
 Margaret Hyde, and Agnes Stanley. 
 
 The popish emissaries having laid information against these five 
 persons, they were all apprehended, and being examined by several 
 justices of the county of Essex, in which they resided, v/ere by them 
 sent up to the bishop of London, for examination. On their arrival, 
 the bishop referred them to the chancellor, who, after questioning 
 them on the articles usual on such occasions, committed them all to 
 Newgate. 
 
 After being imprisoned nearly three months, by order of the chan- 
 cellor, they were summoned to appear before the bishop himself, when 
 the following singular articles were exhibited against them. 
 
 " 1. That they thought, believed, and declared, within some part of 
 the city and diocese of London, that the faith, religion, and ecclesias- 
 tical service here observed and kept, as it is in the realm of England, 
 was not a true and laudable faith, religion, and service, especially con- 
 cerning the mass and the seven sacraments, nor were they agreeable 
 to God's word ; and that they could not, without grudging and scruple, 
 receive and use it, nor conform themselves unto it, as other subjects 
 of this realm customarily have done. 
 
 " 2. That they have thought, &c. that the English service, set forth 
 in the time of King Edward the Sixth, in this realm of England, v.'as 
 good, godly, and catholic in all points, and that it alone ought, here in 
 this realm, to be received, used, and practised, and none other. 
 
 " 3. That they had thought, <fcc. that they were not bound to their 
 parish church, and there to be present at matins, mass, even-song, and 
 other divine service. 
 
 " 4. That they had thought, &c. that they were not bound to come 
 to procession to the church, upon times appointed, and to go in the 
 same with others of the parish, singing or saying the accustomed 
 prayers used in the church, nor to bear a taper, or candle, on Candle- 
 mas-day, nor take ashes on Ash-Wednesday, nor bear palms on Palm- 
 Sunday, nor to creep to the cross on days accustomed, nor to receive 
 holy water and holy bread, or to accept or allow the ceremonies and 
 usages of the church, after the manner in which they were then used 
 in this realm. 
 
 " 5. That they had thought, <fcc. that they were not bound, at any 
 time, to confess their sins to any priest, and to receive absolution at 
 his hands as God's minister, nor to receive, at any time, the blessed 
 sacrament of the altar, especially as it is used in the church of Eng 
 land. 
 
 " 6. That they had thought, &c. that in matters of religion and faith, 
 they were bound to follow and believe their own conscience only, and 
 not credit the determination and common order of the catholic church, 
 and see of Rome, nor any members thereof. 
 
 " 7. That they had thought, &lc. that the fashion and manner of 
 christening infants, is not agreeable to God's word, and that none can 
 be effectually baptized, and therefore saved, except they are arrived 
 to years of discretion to believe themseb^e^and willingly accept, or 
 refuse, baptism at their pleasure. ^ 
 
 " 8. That they had thought, &c. that prayers to saints, or prayers 
 for the dead, were not available, nor allowable by God's word, and 
 
432 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 that soujs departed this life do immediately go to heaven or hell, or 
 else to sleep till the day of doom : so that there is no place of pur- 
 gation at all. 
 
 " 9, That they had thought, &c. that all those, who in the time of 
 King Henry VIII. or in the time of Queen Mary, the present sove- 
 reign of England, had been burned as heretics, were no heretics, but 
 faithful, sincere Christians ; especially Barnes, Garret, Jerome, Frith, 
 Rogers, Hooper, Cardmaker, Latimer, Taylor, Bradford, Cranmer, 
 Rialey, &c. and that they did allow and approve all their opinions, 
 and disapproved their condemnations and burnings. 
 
 " 10. That they had thought, &c. that fasting and prayers used in 
 the church of England, and the appointing a day for fasting, and ab- 
 staining from flesh upon fasting days, especially in the time of Lent, 
 is not laudable nor allowable, by God's word, and that men ought to 
 have liberty, at all times, to eat all kind of meats. 
 
 "11. That they thought, &c. that the sacrament of the altar is an 
 idol ; and to reserve, keep, and honour it, is idolatry and superstition, 
 as was also the mass and elevation of the sacrament. 
 
 " 12. That they had thought, &c. that they were not bound to be. 
 convened before an ecclesiastical judge, concerning matters of faith, 
 nor to make answer to all, especially upon oath on a book." 
 
 The first, second, third, fourth, fifth, eighth, and nin h articles, 
 they granted in general, excepting that they denied " that souls de- 
 parted do sleep till tne day of judgment," as mentioned in the eighth 
 article. 
 
 With respect to the sixth article objected to them, they thought 
 themselves bound to believe the true catholic church, so far as it in- 
 structed them according to God's holy word, but not to follow the 
 determinations of the superstitious church of Rome. 
 
 Concerning the eighth and twelfth articles, they denied that they 
 ever maintained any such absurd opinions, but granted that man of 
 himself, without the aid and assistance of God's spirit, had no power 
 to do any thing acceptable in the sight of God. 
 
 To the tenth article they answered, that true fasting and prayer 
 used according to God's Avord, was allowable, and approved in his 
 sight ; and that, by the same word, every faithful man may eat all 
 meats at all time3, with thanksgiving to God for the same. 
 
 Having given these answers, they were dismissed, and conveyed 
 to their respective places of confinement, where they remained till 
 they were again brought before the bishop, who made no other in- 
 quiry, than whether they would abjure their heretical opinions ; and 
 on their refusal, again dismissed them. 
 
 At length, they were brought into the public consistory court, at 
 St. Paul's, and severally asked what they had to allege, why sentence 
 of condemnation should not be pronounced against them. 
 
 Thomas Loseby being first questioned, thus replied : " God give 
 me grace to withstand you, your sentence, and yodflaw, Avhich de- 
 vours the flock of Christ, for I perceive death is my certain portion, 
 unless I will consent to believe in that accursed idol the mass." 
 1*^ Thomas Thyrtell being next examined, said, " My lord, if you 
 
 make me a heretic, you make Christ and the twelve apostles all he- 
 retics, for I hold one and the same faith with them, and I will abide 
 in that faith, being assured that it will obtain for me everlasting life." 
 
 T* 
 
 P 
 
GRATWICK, MORA NT, AND KING. 433 
 
 Henry Ramsey being required to recant, answered, " My lord, 
 would you have me abjure the truth, and, for fear of death here, for- 
 feit eternal felicity hereafter ?" 
 
 Margaret Hyde being questioned, replied, " My lord, you have no 
 cause to pronounce sentence against me, for I am in the true faith, nor 
 will ever forsake it ; and I wish I was more confirmed in it than I am." 
 
 Agnes Stanley, the last examined, said, " My lord, I would suffer 
 every hair of my head to be burned, before I would renounce the 
 faith of Christ, and his holy gospel." 
 
 The court now broke up, but was convened again in the afternoon, 
 when the prisoners were brought in, and were again examined. 
 
 Thomas Loseby, being first called upon, his articles and answers 
 were read ; after which many attempts were made to bring him to a 
 recantation, but he persisted in his faith, declaring, that " he hoped he 
 had the spirit of God, which had led him into all truth :" his sentence 
 of condemnation was therefore pronounced, and he was delivered to 
 the custody of the sheriff, in order for execution. 
 
 Various arguments were used by the bishop to bring over Marga- 
 ret Hyde ; but she declared she would not depart from what she had 
 said upon any penalty whatever ; and added, that she would gladly 
 hear his lordship instruct her from some part of God's word, and not 
 talk to her concerning holy bread and holy Avater, which was no part 
 of God's word. 
 
 The bishop finding her resolute, pronounced sentence on her, and 
 she was delivered over to the secular power. 
 
 Agnes Stanley was also admonished to return to the communion of 
 the holy mother church, but she continued steadfast in her faith, de- 
 claring she was no heretic, and that those who were burned, as the 
 papists said, for heresy, were true martyrs in the sight of God. In 
 consequence of this she likewise received sentence of death, and 
 was committed to the care of the sheriff. 
 
 Thomas Thyrtell being asked what he had to allege, answered, 
 " My lord, I will not hold v/ith those idolatrous opinions you would 
 inculcate ; for I say the mass is idolatry, and I will abide by the faith 
 of Christ as long as I live." 
 
 He was then sentenced in the same manner as the former. 
 
 Henry Ramsey, who was last called, being asked whether he would 
 stand by his answers, as the rest had done, or recant and become a 
 new member of the church, replied, " I will never abjure my religion, 
 in Avhich I Avill live, and in which I will die." 
 
 Their examination being closed, and sentence of death passed on 
 them all, they were immediately conducted to Newgate, where they 
 continued till the 12th of April, 1557. On the morning of that day they 
 were led to Smithfield, the place appointed for their execution, where, 
 being fastened to two stakes, they were burnt in one fire, praising 
 God as long as they had the power of sjieech, and cheerfully giving 
 up their live? in testimony of the truth of the gospel. 
 
 Martyrdom of Stephen Gratwick, William Mar ant, and John King. 
 
 Stephen Gratwick being informed against by the popish emissa- 
 ries, on a-suspicion of heresy, was apprehended, and being carried 
 before a justice of peace, was committed to the Marshalsea prison, 
 where he continued for a considerable time. 
 
 55 
 
434 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 At length he was brought before Dr. White, bishop of Winchester 
 in St. George's church, Southwark, to answer such questions as he 
 should be asked relative to his religious opinions. 
 
 The bishop first asked him if he would revoke the heresies which 
 he had maintained and defended ; when Mr. Gratwick answering in 
 the negative, he administered the usual articles, desiring him to give 
 an explicit answer to each. 
 
 The articles being read, Mr. Gratwick replied, " My lord, these 
 articles are of your making, and not of mine, nor have I had any 
 time to examine them ; therefore I desire the liberty of lawful ap- 
 peal to mine ordinary, having no concern with you." 
 
 During his examination, the bishop of Rochester and the arch- 
 deacon of Canterbury arrived, when, on a consultation about the pre- 
 sent case, it was agreed to introduce a person to represent the ordi- 
 nary, which being done, Gratwick desired leave to depart, but the. 
 counterfeit ordinary insisted on his being detained, saying, that he 
 was justly sunimoned before those lords and him, on trial of his faith; 
 and that, if he confessed the truth, he should be quietly dismissed, 
 and allowed full liberty. 
 
 Gratwick told him, that " he would turn his own argument upon 
 him, for Christ came before the high-priest, scribes, and Pharisees, 
 bringing the truth with him, being the very truth himself; yet both he 
 and his truth were condemned, and had no avail with them ; the 
 apostles likewise^ and all the martyrs that died since Christ, did the 
 same." 
 
 The bishop of Winchester then asked his opinion concerning the 
 sacrament of the altar ; to which he replied, " My lord, I do verily 
 believe t?iat in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, truly adminis- 
 tered in both kinds, according to the institution of Christ, imto the 
 worthy receiver, he eateth mystically, by faith, the body and blood 
 of Christ." 
 
 The bishop of Rochester observed, that this definition was a mere 
 evasion of the principal points, for that he separated the sacrament 
 of the altar from the Supper of the Lord, intimating thereby, that the 
 former was not the true sacrament ; and also condemned their me- 
 thod of administering it in one kind, as well as hindered the unworthy 
 receiver to eat and drink the body and blood of Christ, which, if duly 
 weighed, were points of the highest importance, though he had craftily 
 evaded them. 
 
 Having entered into closer examination concerning this matter, the 
 counterfeit ordinary ordered the articles to be read again, and Grat- 
 wick refusing to make any reply, was threatened with excommunica- 
 tion ; on which he thus addressed himself to his examiners : 
 
 " Since ye thirst for my blood, before ye are glutted with the same, 
 permit me to say a word in my own cause. On Sunday, my lord of 
 Winchester, I was before you, when you took occasion to preach 
 from these words of St. James : ' If any man among you seem to be 
 religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, 
 this man's religion is vain.' From these words, my lord, by wrested 
 inferences, you slander us poor prisoners, upbraiding us with the ti- 
 tle of Arians, Herodians, Sacramentaries, and Pelagians. When we 
 stood up to speak in vindication of ourselves, you threatened to cut 
 out our tongues, and caused us to be dragged out of the church by 
 
EDMUND ALLIN, AND OTHERS. 435 
 
 violence : nevertheless, I will abide by the truth to the end of my 
 life." 
 
 The incensed prelate, after various endeavours, by threats and pro- 
 mises, to bring him to a recantation, finding that vain, pronounced sen- 
 tence of condemnation upon him, and he was delivered over to the 
 sheriff, who immediately conducted him to the Marshalsea prison. 
 Here he remained till the latter end of May, 1557, when he was 
 brought to the stake in St. George's Fields, and there cheerfully re- 
 signed up his soul into the hand of him who gave it, 
 
 Two persons, named William Morant and John King, suffered with 
 him ; but we have no account on record relative to their examina- 
 tions. 
 
 Martyrdom of five women and two men, at Maidstone, June 18, 1557. 
 
 We have stated that after the proclamation, in February, 1557, the 
 storm of persecution began in all places to rage anew, but no where 
 more than in the diocese of Canterbury, as the inquisition, was there 
 under the direction of Richard Thornton, bishop of Dover, and the 
 archdeacon of Canterbury, who were so furious against the harmless 
 flock of Christ, that they needed not the proclamation to stir up the 
 coals of their burning cruelty, but yet were enabled by it to gratify to 
 a greater extent their diabolical malice against the believers. We 
 have already given several instances of the furious persecutions in 
 this diocese, and we have now to add the following, wherein seven 
 innocents were committed to the flames by these monsters, under the 
 pretence of religion ! We shall give the account in the original 
 words of the Martyrologist, as they are curious and interesting. 
 
 In the next month following, being the 18th day of June, were 
 seven Christian and faithful martyrs of Christ burned at Maidstone, 
 whose names here follow : 
 
 Joan Bradbridge, of Staplehurst : 
 
 Walter Appleby, of Maidstone : 
 
 Petronil, his wife : 
 
 Edmund Allin, ofFrytenden: . 
 
 Catherine, his wife ; 
 
 John Manning's wife, of Maidstone ; 
 
 Elizabeth, a blind maiden. 
 
 As concerning the general articles commonly objected to them in 
 the public consistory, and the order of their condemnation, it difiiereth 
 not much from the usual manner expressed before, neither did their 
 answers, in effect, much differ from the others that suffered under the 
 same ordinary, in the aforesaid diocese at Canterbury. 
 
 Now as touching their answers and manner of apprehension, and 
 their private conflicts with their adversaries, I find no great matter 
 coming to my hands, save only of Edmund Allin some intimation is 
 given me, how his troubles came, what was his cause and answers 
 before the justices, as here consequently you shall xmderstand. 
 
 The examination of Edmund Allin. 
 
 This Allin was a miller, of the parish ofFrytenden, in Kent, and in a 
 lear year, when many poor people were like to starve, he fed them, 
 'id sold his corn cheaper by half than others did ; he also fed ihem 
 vith the food of life, reading to them the scriptures, and interpreting 
 
436 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 them. This being known to the popish priests dwelling thereabouts, 
 by the procurement of two of them, namely, of John Taylor, parson 
 of Frytenden, and Thomas Henden, parson of Staplehurst, he was 
 soon complained of to the justices, and brought before John Baker, 
 knight, who committed both him and his wife to prison, but soon after 
 they were let out, I know not how, and went to Calais ; where, con- 
 tinuing some time, he began to be troubled in conscience, and meeting 
 with one John Webb, from Frytenden, (who had likewise fled from 
 the tyranny of Sir John Baker, and Parson Taylor,) said unto him, 
 that he could not be in quiet there, whatsoever the cause was ; " for 
 God," said he, " had something for him to do in England ;" and 
 shortly after he returned to Frytenden, where was cruel Taylor. 
 
 This parson being informed that Edmund Allin and his wife were 
 returned, and were not at mass time in the church ; as he was the 
 same time in the midst of his mass, upon a Sunday, a little before the 
 elevation, (as they term it,) even almost at the lifting up of his Romish 
 god, he fcurned to the people in a great rage, commanded them with 
 all speed to go unto their house, and apprehend them, and he would 
 come unto them as soon as he could. Which promise he well per- 
 formed, for he had no sooner made an end of ite missa est, and the 
 vestments off his back, but presently he was at the house, and there 
 laying hands on the said Allin, caused him again to be brought to Sir 
 John Baker, with a grievous complaint of his exhorting and reading 
 the scriptures to the people ; and so he and his wife were sent to 
 Maidstone prison. Witnessed by Richard Fletcher, vicar of Cram- 
 boke, and John Webb, of Frytenden. 
 
 No sooner were they in prison, but Sir John Baker immediately sent 
 certain of his men to their house, namely, John Dove, Thomas Best, 
 Thomas Linley, Percival Barber, with the aforesaid John Taylor, 
 parson of Frytenden, and Thomas Henden, parson of Staplehurst, to 
 take an inventory of all the goods that were in the house ; where they 
 found in the bed-straw a little chest locked with a padlock, wherein 
 they found a sackcloth bag of money, containing the sum of thirteen 
 or fourteen pounds, partly in gold, and partly in silver ; which money, 
 after being told, and put in the bag again, they carried away Avith 
 them. 
 
 Besides, also, they foimd there certain books, as psalters, bibles, 
 and other writings ; all which books, with the money, were delivered 
 to the aforesaid priest, Thomas Henden, parson of Staplehurst, and, 
 afterwards, in the fifth year of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, it was 
 by right law recovered from him again, as in records remaineth to be 
 seen. 
 
 Thus good Edmund Allin and his wife, being maliciously accused, 
 wrongfully imprisoned, and cruelly robbed and spoiled of all their 
 goods, were brought, as is aforesaid, before Sir John Baker, the jus- 
 tice, to be examined ; who, taunting and reviling him without all mercy 
 and pity, asked him if those were the fruits of his gospel, to have icon- 
 venticles, to gather people together, to make conspiracies, to sow sedi- 
 tion and rebellion ; and thus he began to reason with him. 
 
 Baker. Who gave thee authority to preach and interpret? Art 
 thou a priest ? Art thou admitted thereunto ? Let me see thy licence. 
 
 Collins, Sir John Baker's schoolmaster, said, surely he is an arrant 
 heretic, and worthy to be burned. 
 
EDMUND ALLIN. 437 
 
 Allin. If it pleases your honour to permit me to answer in the 
 cause of my faith, I am persuaded that God hath given me this autho- 
 rity, as he hath given to all other Christians. Why are we called 
 Christians, if we do not follow Christ, if we do not read his law, if 
 we do not interpret it to others that have not so much understanding? 
 Is not Christ our Father? Shall not the son follow the father's steps? 
 Is not Christ our master ? and shall the scholar be inhibited to learn 
 and preach his precepts ? Is not Christ our Redeemer, and shall we 
 not praise his name, and serve him, who hath redeemed us from sin 
 and damnation ? Did not Christ, when but twelve years of age, dis- 
 pute with the doctors, and interpret the prophet Isaiah ? and yet, not- 
 withstanding he was neither of the tribe of Levi, which were priests, 
 but of the royal tribe of Judah, neither had taken any outward priest- 
 hood ; wherefore, if we be Christians, we must do the same. 
 
 Collins. Please your honour, what a knave is this, that compareth 
 himself with Christ ! 
 
 Baker. Let him alone, he will pump out presently an infinite num- 
 ber of heresies. Hast thou any more to say for thyself? 
 
 Allin. Yea, that I have. Adam was licensed of God, and Abra- 
 ham was commanded to teach his children, and posterity, and so Da- 
 vid teacheth in divers psalms ; and Solomon also preached to the peo- 
 ple, as the book of the preacher very well proveth, where he teacheth 
 that there is no immortal felicity in this life, but in the next. And 
 Noah taught them that were disobedient in his days, and therefore is 
 called " The eighth preacher of righteousness," in the second epistle 
 of Peter. Also, in the 11th chapter of Numbers, where Moses had 
 chosen seventy elders to help him to teach and rule the rest, Eldad 
 and Medad preached in the tents, wherefore Joshua being oflended, 
 complained to Moses, that Eldad and Medad did preach without 
 licence. To whom Moses answered, and wished that all the people 
 could do the like. Why should I be long? most of the priests were 
 not of the tribe of Levi and Aaron. 
 
 Collins. These are authorities of the Old Testament, and, therefore, 
 abrogated ; but thou art a fool, and knowest no school points. Is not 
 the law divided into the law ceremonial and judicial ? 
 
 Allin. I grant that the ceremonies ceased when Christ came, as 
 St. Paul proveth to the Hebrews, and to the Colossians, when he saith, 
 " Let no man judge you in any part of the Sabbath daje, new moon, 
 or other ceremonies, which are figures of things to come : for Christ 
 is the body." 
 
 Collins. And are not the judicials abrogated by Christ ? 
 
 Allin. They are confirmed both by Christ, in the fifth chapter of 
 Matthew, and by Paul in the first epistle to Timothy. The lav/, saith 
 he, is not yet set forth for the virtuous and godly, but for manslayers, 
 perjurers, adulterers, and such like. 
 
 Collins. Thou art a heretic. Wilt thou call the judicials of 
 Moses again ? Wilt thou have adultery punished with death ? disobe- 
 dient children to their parents to be stoned ? Wilt thou have Legem 
 Talionis ? But thou art an ass. Why should I speak Latin to thee, 
 thou erroneous rebel ? shall we now smite out eye for eye, tooth for 
 tooth ? Thou art worthy to have thy teeth and tongue plucked out. 
 
 Allin. If we had that law, we should neither have disobedient chil- 
 dren, neither false witness bearers, nor ruffians. 
 
438 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Baker. Master Collins, jet us return to our first matter; Why did 
 •you teach the people, whom you said you had fed both bodily and 
 spiritually, being no priest ? 
 
 Allin. Because that we are all kings to rule our affections, priests 
 -to preach oirt the virtues and word of God, as Peter writeth, and lively 
 stones to give light to others. For as out of flint stones cometh forth 
 that which is able to set the woi-ld on fire ; so out of Christians 
 should spring the beams of the gospel, which should inflame all the 
 world. If we must give a reckoning of our faith to every man, and 
 now to you demanding it, then must we study the scriptures, and 
 practise them. What availeth it a man to have meat, and will eat 
 none ; or apparel, and will wear none ; or to have an occupation, and 
 to teach none ; or to be a lawyer, and to utter none ? Shall every 
 artificer be suffered, yea, and commended to practise his faculty and 
 science, and the Christiarf forbidden to exercise his ? Doth not every 
 lawyer practise his law ? Is not every Christian a follower of Christ ? 
 Shall ignorance, which is condemned in all sciences, be practised by 
 Christians ? Doth not St. Paul forbid any man's spirit to be quench- 
 ed ? Doth he prohibit any man that hath any of these gifts, which he 
 repeateth, 1 Cor. xiv. to practise the same ? Only he forbiddeth wo- 
 men, but no man. The Jews never forbade any. Read the Acts of 
 the Apostles. And the restraint was made by Gregory, the ninth 
 pope of that name, as I heard a learned man preach, in King Edward's 
 days. 
 
 Collins. This villain, please your honour, is mad. By my priest- 
 liood, I believe that he will say that a priest hath no more authority 
 than another man ! Doth not a priest bind and loose ? 
 
 Allin. No, my sin bindeth me, and my repentance looseth. God 
 forgiveth sin only, and no priest. For every Christian, when he «n- 
 jjeth, bindeth himself, and when he repenteth, looseth himself. And 
 if any other be loosed from his sin by my exhortation, I am said to 
 loose him ; and if he persevere in sin notwithstanding my exhortation, 
 J am said to bind him, although it is God that bindeth and looseth, 
 and giveth the increase. Therefore saith Christ, Matt, xviii. " Where- 
 -soever two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in 
 the midst of them ; and whose soever sins they forgive, they are for- 
 given, and whose soever they retain, they lare retained." Neither hath 
 the pope a^y keys, save the keys of error ; for the key that openeth 
 the lock to God's mysteries and salvation, is the key of faith and re- 
 pentance. And as I have heard learned men reasoji, St. Austin, Origen, 
 -and others, are of this opinion. 
 
 Then they reviled him and laid him in the stocks all night : where- 
 with some that were better minded, being offended with such extremity, 
 desired Allin to keep his conscience to himself, and to follow Baruch's 
 counsel, in the sixth chapter : " Wherefore when ye see the multitude 
 of people worshipping them, behind and before, say ye in your hearts, 
 .O Lord, it is thou that ought only to be worshipped." 
 
 Wherewith he was persuaded to go to hear mass the next day, and 
 .suddenly before the sacring, went out and considered in the church- 
 yard with himself, that such a little cake between the priest's fingers 
 could not be Christ, nor a material body, neither to have soul, life, 
 sinews, bones, flesh, legs, head, ?irms, nor breast, and lamented that 
 he was seduced by the words of Baruch, which his conscience told 
 
EDMUND ALLIN. 43§ 
 
 him was no scripture, or else hail another meaning : after this he was 
 brought again before Sir John Baker, who asked why he refused to 
 worship the blessed sacrament of the altar. 
 Allin. It is an idol. 
 Collins. It is God's body. 
 Allin. It is not. 
 Collins. By the mass it is. 
 Allin. It is bread. 
 Collins. How provest thou that ? 
 
 Allin. When Christ sat at his supper, and gave them bread to eat. 
 Collins. Bread, knave? 
 
 Allin. Yes, bread, which you call Christ's body. Sat he still at 
 the table, or was he both in their mouths and at the table ? If he was 
 in their mouths, and at the table, then had he two bodies, or else he had 
 a fantastical body, which is an absurdity. 
 
 Baker. Christ's body was glorified, and might be in more places 
 than one. 
 
 Allin. Then he had more bodies than one, by your own placing of 
 him. 
 
 Collins. Thou ignorant ass, the schoolmen say, that a glorified body 
 may be every where. 
 
 Allin. If his body was not glorified till it rose again, then was it 
 not glorified at his last supper^ and therefore was not at the table, and 
 in their mouths, by your own reason. 
 
 Collins. A glorified body occupieth no place. 
 
 Allin. That which occupieth no place, is neither God nor any thing 
 else. If it be nothing, then is your religion nothing. If it be God, 
 then have we four in one Trinity, which is the person of the Father, 
 of the Son, of the Holy Ghost, and the human nature of Christ. If 
 Christ be nothing, which you must needs confess, if he occupieth no 
 place, then is our study vain, our faith frustrate, and our hope without 
 reward. 
 
 Collins. This rebel will believe nothing but Scripture ! How 
 knowest thou theft it is the Scripture, but by the church? and so 
 saith St. Austin. 
 
 Allin. I cannot tell what Dr. Austin saith, but I am persuaded that 
 it is Scripture, by divers arguments : First, that the law worketh in 
 me my condemnation. The law telleth me, thai; of myself I am 
 damned ; and this damnation, Mr. Collins, you must find in yourself, 
 or else you shall never come to repentance. For as this grief and 
 sorrow of conscience, without faith, is desperation ; so is a glorious 
 and Romish faith, without the lamentation of a man's sins, pre- 
 sumption. 
 
 The second is the gospel, which is the power and Spirit of God. 
 " This Spirit (saith St. Paul) certifieth my spirit that I am the Son of 
 God, and that these are the Scriptures." 
 
 The third are the wonderful works of God, which cause me to be- 
 lieve that there is a God, though we glorify him not as God, Rom. i. 
 The sun, the moon, the stars, and other his works (as David discours- 
 eth Psalm xix.) declare that there is a God, and that these are the 
 Scriptures, because that they teach nothing else but God, and his 
 power, majesty, and might ; and becaus'e the Scripture teacheth no- 
 thing disagreeing from this prescription of nature. And, fourthly, be- 
 
440 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 cause that the word of God gave authority to the church in paradise, 
 saying, that the seed of the woman shall break down the serpent's 
 head. This seed is the gospel ; this is all the scriptures, and by this 
 we are assured of eternal life ; and by these words, " The seed ot 
 the woman shall break the serpent's head," gave authority to the 
 church, and not the church to the word. 
 
 Baker. I heard say that you spake against priests and bishops. 
 
 Allin. I spake for them ; for now they have so much living, and 
 especially bishops, archdeacons, and deans, that they neither can, 
 nor will teach God's word. If they had a hundred pounds apiece, 
 then would they apply their study; now they cannot for their affairs. 
 
 Collins. Who will then set his children to school ? 
 
 Allin. Where there is now one set to school for that end, there 
 would be forty ; because that one bishop's living divided into thirty 
 or forty parts, would find so many men, as well learned as the bishops 
 now are who have all this living; neither had Peter or Paul any such 
 revenue. 
 
 Baker. Let us despatch him ; he will mar all. 
 
 Collins. If every man had a hundred pounds, as he saith, it would 
 make more learned men. 
 
 Baker. But our bishops would be angry, if that they knew it. 
 
 Allin. It would be for the common good to have such bishoprics 
 divided, for the farther increase of learning. 
 
 Baker. What sayest thou to the sacrament ? 
 
 Allin. As I said before. 
 
 Baker. Away with him. 
 
 Then he was carried to prison, and afterwards burned. And thus 
 much concerning the particular story of Edmund Allin and his wife ; 
 who, with the five other martyrs abovenamed, being seven, Avere 
 burned at Maidstone, the 18th of June, 1557. 
 
 Martyrdoms of the Rev. John Roughs and of Margaret Maring. 
 
 Mr. John Rough was a native of Scotland, the son of reputable 
 and pious parents. Being deprived of the right of inheritance to 
 certain lands by some of his kindred, he was so irritated that, though 
 onl}'^ seventeen years of age, he entered himself a member of the 
 order of Black Friars, at Stirling, in Scotland. 
 
 Here he continued upwards of sixteen years, when the earl of 
 Arran, (afterwards duke of Hamilton,) then regent of Scotland, hav- 
 ing a partiality for him, applied to the archbishop of St Andrew's to 
 dispense with his professed order, that he might serve him as a chap- 
 lain. 
 
 The archbishop readily granting the request of the regent, Mr. 
 Rough was disengaged from his monastic order, and continued chap- 
 lain to his patron about a year, when it pleased God to open his eyes, 
 and give him some knowledge of the truth of the gospel. 
 
 At this time the earl sent him to preach in the county of Ayr, 
 where he continued about four years, during which time he dis- 
 charged the duties of his office with the strictest diligence. 
 
 On the death of tlie cardinal of Scotland, he was sent for to offici- 
 ate at St. Andrew's, for which he had a pension of twenty pounds 
 per annum allowed him by King Henry VIII. 
 
 After being some time in this situation, he began to abhor the ido- 
 
REV. JOHN ROUGH. 
 
 44! 
 
 latry and superstition of his own country ; and when he found that on 
 the accession of Edward VI. there was free profession of the gospel in 
 England, he left St. Andrew's, and went first to Carlisle, and after- 
 wards waited on the duke of Somerset, then protector, by whom he 
 was appointed preacher, with an annual allowance of twenty pounds, 
 to serve in Carlisle, Berwick, and Newcastle-upon-Tyne. 
 
 A short time after this he married, and the archbishop of "i orK goVc 
 him a benefice near the town of Kingston-upon-HulI, which he en- 
 joyed till the death of the king. 
 
 On the accession of Queen Mary, when the true religion was super- 
 seded by the false, and persecution took place in all parts of the 
 kingdom, Mr. Rough fled with his wife into the Low Countries, and 
 took up his residence at a place called Norden. Here he maintained 
 himself by knitting and selling caps and hose, till the month of Octo- 
 ber, 1557, when wanting yarn, and other necessaries for his trade, he 
 embarked for England, and arrived in London on the 10th of No- 
 vember following. 
 
 Soon after his arrival, he was informed that there was a private 
 congregation of religious people in a certain part of the city, upon 
 which he joined them, and was elected their minister. 
 
 In this oflice he continued some time, till at the instigation of 
 Roger Sergeant, a hypocrite and false brother, on the 13th of Decem- 
 ber, he, together with one Cuthbert Simson, deacon of the aforesaid 
 congregation, were apprehended by the vice-chamberlain of the 
 queen's household, at the Saracen's-Head, in Islington, where the 
 congregation had assembled for the purpose of performing their 
 usual worship ; although, to avoid suspicion, it had been^given out 
 that their meeting was to hear a play. ! ' 1;" 
 
 Mr. Rough and Mr. Simson were both conducted by the vice-cham- 
 berlain to the queen's council, by whom they were charged with as- 
 sembling to celebrate the Communion, or Lord's Supper. After a 
 long examination, Simson was, for the present, dismissed, but Rough 
 was sent prisoner to Newgate. 
 
 On the 18th of December, Bishop Bonner ordered Rough to be 
 brought before him at his palace in London, for examination concern- 
 ing his religious faith ; after which he was reconducted to his place 
 of confinement. 
 
 On the 20th of December he was brought to the consistory court 
 at St. Paul's, before Bonner, bishop of London, the bishop of St. 
 David's, Fecknam, abbot of Westminster, and others, in order to 
 undergo a final examination. 
 
 After various methods had been used by the court to persuade him 
 to recant, without effect, Bonner read the articles", with his answers, 
 before mentioned : he then charged him with marrying, after having 
 received priestly orders ; and that he had refused to consent to the 
 Latin service then used in the church. 
 
 Mr. Rough answered, their orders were of no effect, and that the 
 children he had by his wife were legitimate. Wit!, respect to the 
 Latin service then used, he had said, he utterly detisted it, and that, 
 were he to live as long as Methuselah, he would v yer go to chui ~\i 
 to hear the abominable mass. 
 
 In consequence of this -declaration, the bishop profeeded to the 
 ceremony of degradation ; after which h*' read t]ie sentence of con. 
 
 56 
 
442* BfOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 demnation, and Mr. Rough being delivered to the sheriff, was by him 
 reconducted to Newgate, there to remain till the time appointed for 
 his execution. 
 
 Examination of Margaret Maring. 
 
 This woman belonged to a private congregation in London, where 
 Mr. Rough used to officiate. She was suspected by him, and some 
 others, of not being sincere in the religion she professed ; but the 
 event showed that their suspicions Avere ill-founded. 
 
 An information being laid against her before the bishop of London, 
 he sent an officer to her house near Mark-lane, in the city, to appre- 
 hend her ; which being done, she was immediately brought before his 
 lordship, who, after a short examination, sent her to Newgate. 
 
 On the 18th day of December she was again brought before the 
 bishop, at his palace in London, in order to undergo a thorough exami- 
 nation, relative to her religious principles. The usual articles being 
 exhibited against her, she answered each respectively as follows : 
 
 1. That there is here on earth a catholic church, and there is the 
 true faith of Christ observed and kept in the same church. 
 
 2. That there are only two sacraments in the church, namely, the 
 sacrament of the body and blood of Christ, and the sacrament of 
 Baptism. 
 
 3. That she was baptized in the faith and belief of the said church, 
 renouncing there, by her godfathers and godmother^ the devil, and 
 all his works. 
 
 4. That when she came to the age of fourteen years, she did not 
 know what her true belief was, because she was not then of discretion 
 to understand the same, neither yet was taught it. 
 
 5. That she had not gone from the catholic faith at any time ; but 
 she said that the mass Avas abominable in the sight of God, and all 
 true Christian people. 
 
 6. Concerning the sacrament of the altar, she said she believed 
 there was no snch sacrament in the catholic church : that she utterly 
 abhorred the authority of the bishop of Rome, Avith all the religion 
 observed in his antichristian church. 
 
 7. That she had refused to come to her parish church, because the 
 true religion Avas not then used in the same ; and that she had not 
 come into the church for the space of one year and three quarters, 
 neither did mean to come any more to the same, in these idolatrous 
 days. 
 
 8. She acknoAvledged that she Avas apprehended, and brought be- 
 fore the bishop of London. 
 
 Tiiese ansAvers being registered by the bishop's official, she was, for 
 the present, remanded to prison. 
 
 On the 20th of December she Avas again brought before the bishop, 
 at his consistory court, AAdiere her articles and ansAvers were again 
 read to her ; after which they asked her if she Avould stand to the 
 same as they were registered ? She ansAvered, that she would stand 
 to the same to her death r " for the very angels in heaven," said she, 
 " laugh you to scorn, to see the abomination you use in the church." 
 
 The bishop then used various arguments to prevail on her to re- 
 cant ; but finding them all ineffectual, he read the sentence of con- 
 demnation, i^iki she Avas delivered to the sheriff for execution, who re- 
 conducted h©f to Newgate. 
 
ROBERT MILLS AND OTHERS. 4:43 
 
 Two days after this, on the 22d of December, 1557, she, with her 
 felloW-martyr John Rough, vvere conducted, by the proper ojBicers, to 
 Smithfield, where they were both fastened to one stake, and burnt in 
 the same fire. They both behaved themselves with Christian forti- 
 tude, and cheerfully gave up their Jives in testimony of the truth of 
 that gospel, which was given to man by him from whom they hoped 
 to receive an eternal reward in his heavenly kingdom. 
 
 Martyrdoms of Robert Mills, Stephen Cotton, Robert Dines, Stephen 
 Wight, John Slade, and William Pikes. 
 
 These six men were apprehended, with several otherfs, in a close 
 near Islington, where they had assembled to pay their devotions to 
 their Maker ; and being taken before a magistrate were committed to 
 prison as heretics. 
 
 A few days after their apprehension, they were brought before Dr. 
 Thomas Darbyshire, the bishop of London's chancellor, for exami- 
 nation ; when the usual articles were exhibited against them, to which 
 they answered as follows : 
 
 The first article they all granted. Robert Mills and Stephen Wight 
 said, they had not been at church for three quarters of a year ; Ste- 
 phen Cotton, not for a twelve month ; Robert Dines, for two years ; 
 and John Slade and William Pikes, not since the queen's accession 
 to the throne. 
 
 To the second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth articles, they all an- 
 swered, in effect, as other protestants had done ; asserting, that as the 
 rites, ceremonies, and customs of the then church vrere against the 
 word of God, so they would not observe any part of the same- 
 
 The seventh article they all granted in every part. 
 
 To the eighth article they likewise unanimously agreed ; but Ro- 
 bert Mills added, that he would not come to church, nor approve of 
 their religion, so long as the cross was crept to and worshipped, and 
 images kept in the church. 
 
 John Slade affirmed, in effect, the same as Robert Mills, adding 
 farther, that there were not seven sacraments, but two, namely. Bap- 
 tism and the Supper of the Lord. 
 
 Stephen Cotton and Robert Dines would no farther allow the po- 
 pish religion than it agreed with God's word. 
 
 To the ninth and tenth articles, Robert Mills, John Slade, and Ste- 
 phen Cotton, answered, that they did not allow the popish service 
 then set forth, because it Avas against the truth, and in a language 
 which the common people did not understand. 
 
 Robert Dines, and William Pikes, would neither allow or disallow 
 the Latin service, because they did not understand it. 
 
 Stephen Wight would not make any answer to either of these two 
 articles, neither to the eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, or fourteenth.ar- 
 ticles ; but the rest of his fellow-prisoners answered as follows : 
 
 To the eleventh article Robert Mills, John Slade, and Stephen 
 Cotton, answered, that concerning the books, faith, and religion, spe- 
 cified in this article, they did allow them, so far as they agreed with 
 God's word. 
 
 Robert Dines Avould not make any answer to this, saying, he did 
 not understand it ; and William Pikes said, that he would abide by 
 the service, faith, and religion, as set forth in the days of King Ed- 
 ward VL 
 
444 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 To the twelfth article they sai'd, they would agree to it provided 
 they might receive the sacrament as administered in the reign of 
 King Edward. 
 
 The thirteenth and fourteenth articles they granted to be true in 
 every part. 
 
 After they had been all examined, they were reconducted to pri- 
 son, but ordered to appear on the 11th of July, at the consistory court 
 at St. Paul's. Accordingly, on that day, they were brought before 
 the bishop and his chancellor, by the latter of whom they were asked, 
 if they would turn from their opinions against the holy mother- 
 church ; and if not, whether they could show cause why sentence of 
 condemnation should not be pronounced against them. To this they 
 all answered, that they would not depart from the truth, nor any part 
 of the same, on any conditions whatever. 
 
 The chancellor then dismissed them, but ordered that they should . 
 appear again before him the next day, in the afternoon, to hear their 
 definitive sentence pronounced, agreeably to the ecclesiastical law 
 then in force. 
 
 They were accordingly brought at the time appointed, when the 
 chancellor sat as judge, accompanied by Sir Edward Hastings and Sir 
 Thomas Cornwallis. The chancellor used his utmost endeavours to 
 prevail on them to recant, but all proved ineffectual. He therefore 
 read the sentence of condemnation, and they were delivered over to 
 the sheriffs, who conducted them to prison, in order for execution. 
 
 The chancellor, having condemned these six innocent persons, sent 
 a certificate of their condemnation to the lord chancellor's office, 
 from whence, the next day, a writ was issued for their being burnt at 
 Brentford. 
 
 On the 14th of July, 1558, they were conducted by the sheriffs, and 
 their attendants, from Newgate, to the place appointed for their ex- 
 ecution. As soon as they arrived at the fatal spot, they all knelt 
 down, and for some time prayed in the most fervent manner. After 
 this they arose, and undressing themselves, went cheerfully to the 
 stakes, of which there were three, though all were consumed in one 
 fire. Being bound to the stakes, and the fagots being lighted, they 
 all calmly and joyfully yielded up their souls to that God, for whose 
 gospel they suffered, and whose heavenly mansions they were in 
 hopes of inheriting. 
 
 Martyrdoms of Henry Pond, Rainhold Eastland, Robert Southam, 
 Matthew Ricarby, John Floid, John Holliday, and Roger Holland. 
 A few days after the execution of the before-mentioned six martyrs 
 at Brentford, seven others, who were apprehended with them at the 
 same time and place, were burnt in Smithfield. Their names we 
 have given above. 
 
 The particular examinations of these persons are not recorded, ex- 
 cept that of Roger Holland, which, together with his story, we give at 
 length, as being both interesting and edifying. 
 
 History, examination, and condemnation of Roger Holland. 
 This Roger Holland, a merchant tailor of London, was first an ap- 
 prentice with Mr. Kempton, at the Black Boy, in Watling-street, 
 w^ ere he served his apprenticeship with much trouble to his master, in 
 brpakin^ him of the licentious liberty which he had before been trained 
 
ROGER HOLLAND. 
 
 445 
 
 and brought up in, giving himself to riot, as dancing, fencing, gaming, 
 banqueting, and wanton company ; and besides all this, an obstinate 
 papist, unlike to come to any such end as God called him unto. 
 
 His master, notwithstanding his lewdness, trusted him with his ac- 
 counts ; and on a time he received the sum of thirty pounds for his 
 master, and falling into ill company, lost every groat at dice ; being 
 past all hope which way to answer it, and therefore he purposed to 
 convey himself beyond the seas. 
 
 Having determined with himself thus to do, he called betimes in 
 the morning on a servant in the house, an ancient and discreet 
 maid, Avhose name was Elizabeth, who professed the gospel, with a 
 life agreeing unto the same, and at all times much rebuking the witful 
 and obstinate papistry, as also the licentious living of this Roger Hol- 
 land. To whom he said, Elizabeth, I would I had followed thy gentle 
 persuasions and friendly rebukes ; which if I had done, I had never 
 come to this shame and misery which I have now fallen into ; for this 
 night I have lost thirty pounds of my master's money, which to pay him 
 and make up my accounts 1 am not able. But this much, I pray you, 
 desire my mistress, that she would entreat my master to take this note 
 of my hand, that I am thus much indebted to him, and if I am ever 
 able, I will see him paid ; desiring him that the matter may pass with 
 silence, and that none of my kindred and friends may ever understand 
 this my lewd part. 
 
 The maid, considering that it might be his utter ruin. Stay, said 
 she ; and having a sum of money by her, which was left her by a kins- 
 man, at his death, who was thought to be Dr. Redman, she brought 
 unto him thirty pounds, saying, Roger, here is thus much money, I 
 will let thee have it, and I will keep this note. But since I do thus 
 much for thee, to help thee, and to save thy honesty, thou shalt pro- 
 mise me to refuse all lewd and wild company, all swearing and ribald- 
 ry talk ; and if ever I know thee to play one twelve-pence at either 
 dice or cards, then will I show this thy note unto my master. And 
 furthermore, thou shalt promise me to resort every day to the lecture 
 at All-hallows, and the sermon at St, Paul's every Sunday, and to 
 cast away all thy books of popery and vain ballads, and get thee the 
 Testament and book of service, and read the scriptures with reverence 
 and fear, calling unto God still for his grace to direct thee in his truth. 
 A.nd pray fervently to God, desiring him to pardon thy former of- 
 fences, and not to remember the sins of thy youth; and ever be afraid 
 to break his laws, or offend his majesty. 
 
 After this time, within one half year, God had wrought such a 
 change in this man, that he was become an earnest professor of the 
 truth, and detested all popery and ill company ; so that he was an 
 admiration to all that had seen his former life. 
 
 Then he repaired to his father, in Lancashire, and brought divers 
 good books with him, and bestowed them among his friends, so that 
 his father and others began to taste the sweetness of the gospel, and 
 to detest the mass, idolatry, and superstition ; and in the end hie fa- 
 ther gave him fifty pounds to begin the world withal. 
 
 Then he caiiie to London again, and went to the maid that lent 
 him the money to pay his master withal, and said unto her, Elizabeth, 
 here is thy money I borrowed of thee, and for the friendship, good 
 will, and good counsel, I have received at thy hands, to recompense 
 
446 BOOK OF MARTYR8. 
 
 thee I am not able, otherwise than by making thee my wife ; and soon 
 after they were mar ied, which was in the first year of Queen Mary. 
 And having a child by her, he caused Mr. Rose to baptise it in his 
 own house. Notwithstanding he was betrayed to the enemies, and 
 lie being gone into the country to convey the child away, that the 
 papists should not have it in their annointing hands, Bonner caused 
 his goods to be seized on, and most cruelly used his wife. 
 
 After this he remained closely in the city, and in the country, in 
 the congregations of the faithful, until the last year of Queen Mary. 
 Then he, with the six others before named, were taken in, or not far 
 from St. John's wood, and so brought to Newgate upon May day, in 
 the morning, 1558. 
 
 Then being called before the bishop. Dr. Chedsey, both the Harps- 
 fields, and certain others, after many other fair and crafty persuasions 
 of Dr. Chedsey, thus the bishop began with him : 
 
 Holland, I for my part do wish well unto thee, and the more for 
 thy friend's sake. And as Dr. Standish telleth me, you and he were 
 both born in one parish, and he knoweth your father to be a very 
 honest catholic gentleman ; and Mr. Doctor told me that he talked 
 with you a year ago, and found you very wilfully addicted to your 
 own conceit. Divers of the city also have showed me of you, that 
 you have been a great procurer of men's servants to be of your reli- 
 gion, and to come to your congregations ; but since you now be in 
 the danger of the law, I Avould wish you to act a wise man's part ; so 
 shall 3'ou not want any^ favour I can do or procure for you,, both for 
 your own sake, and also for your friends, who are men of worship 
 and credit, and wish you well ; and, by my troth, Roger, so do I. 
 
 Then said Mr. Eglestone, a gentleman of Lancashire, and near 
 kinsman to Roger, being there present, I thank your good lordship ; 
 your honour meaneth good unto my cousin ; I beseech God he hav6 
 the grace to follow your counsel. 
 
 Holland. Sir, you crave of God you know not what. I beseech 
 God to open your eyes to see the light of his word. 
 
 Eglespne. Roger, hold your peace, lest you fare the worse at my 
 lord's hands. 
 
 Holland. No, I shall fare as it pleaseth God, for man can do no 
 more than God doth permit him. 
 
 Then the bishop, and the doctors, with Johnson, the register, cast- 
 ing their heads together, in the end saith Johnson, Roger, how sayest 
 thou ? wilt thou submit thyself unto my lord, before thou be entered 
 into the book of contempt? 
 
 Holland. I never meant but to submit myself unto the magistrates, 
 as I learn of St. Paul to the Romans, chap. xiii. and so he recited 
 the text. 
 
 Chedsey. Then I see you are no anabaptist. 
 
 Holland. I mean not yet to be a papist ; for they and the anabap- 
 tists agree in this point, not to submit themselves to any other prince 
 or magistrate, than those that must first be sworn to maintain them 
 and their doings. 
 
 Chedsey. Roger, rem'^mber what I have said, and also what my 
 lord hath promised he will perform with farther friendship. Take 
 heed, Roger, for your ripeness of wit hath brought you into these 
 errors. 
 
ROGER HOLLAND. 447 
 
 Holland. Mr. Doctor, I have yet your words in memory, though 
 they are of no such force to prevail with me. 
 
 Then they whispered together again, and at last Bonner said, 
 Roger, I perceive thou wilt not be ruled by good counsel, for any 
 that either I or your friends can say. 
 
 Holland. I may say to you, my lord, as Paul said to Felix, and to 
 the Jews, as doth appear in the 22d of the Acts, and in the 15th oi 
 the first epistle to the Corinthians. It is not unknown unto my mas- 
 ter to whom I was apprentice withal, that I was of your blind reli- 
 gion, having that liberty under your auricular confession, that I made 
 no conscience of sin, but trusted in the priest's absolution, he for 
 money doing also some penance for me ; which after I had given, I 
 cared no farther what offences I did, no more than he minded after 
 he had my money, whether he tasted bread and water for me, or no • 
 so that lechery, swearing, and all other vices, I accounted no offence 
 of danger, so long as I could for money have them absolved. So 
 straitly did I observe your rules of religion, that I would have ashes 
 upon Ash Wednesday, though I had used ever so much wickedness 
 at night. And albeit I could not of conscience eat flesh upon the 
 Friday, yet in swearing, drinking, or dicing, all the nightlong, I made 
 no conscience at all. And thus I was brought up, and herein I have 
 continued, till now of late that God hath opened the light of his word, 
 and called me by his grace to repentance of my former idolatry and 
 wicked life ; for in Lancashire their blindness and whoredom is much 
 more than may with chaste ears be heard. Yet these my friends, 
 which are not clear in these notable crimes, think the priest with his 
 mass can save them, though they blaspheme God, and keep concu- 
 bines besides their wives as long as they live. 
 
 Mr. Doctor, now to your antiquity, unity, and universality, (for 
 these Dr. Chedsey alleged as notes and tokens of their religion,) I am 
 unlearned. I have no sophistry to shift my reasons withal ; but the 
 truth I trust I have, which needeth no painted colours to set her forth. 
 The antiquity of our church is not from Pope Nicholas, or Pope Joan, 
 but our church is from the beginning, even from the time that God 
 said unto Adam, that the seed of the woman should break the ser- 
 pent's head ; and so to faithful Noah ; to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, 
 to whom it was promised, that their seed should multiply as the stars 
 in the sky ; and so to Moses, David, and the holy fathers that were 
 from the beginning unto the birth of our Saviour Christ. All they 
 that believed these promises were of the church, though the number 
 were oftentimes but iew and small, as in Elias's days, when he thought 
 there was none but he that had not bowed their knees to Baal, when 
 God had reserved seven thousand that never had bowed their knees 
 to that idol ; as I trust there be seven hundred thousand more than 
 I know of, that have not bowed their knees to the idol your mass, and 
 your God Maozim ; the upholding whereof is your bloody cruelty, 
 while you daily persecute Elias, and the servants of God, forcing them 
 (as Daniel was in his chamber) closely to serve the Lord their God ; 
 and even as we, by this your cruelty, are forced in the fields to pray 
 unto God, that his holy word may be once again truly preached 
 amongst us, and that he would mitigate and shorten these idolatrous 
 and bloody days wherein all cruelty reigneth. Moreover, of our 
 church have been the apostles and evangelists, the martyrs and con 
 
448 BOOK OP Martyrs. 
 
 fessors -of Christ, that have at all times and in all ages been perse- 
 cuted for the testimony of the word of God. But for the upholding 
 of your church and religion, what antiquity can you show ? Yea, the 
 mass, that idol and chief pillar of your religion, is not yet four hun- 
 dred years old, and some of your masses are younger, as that of St. 
 Thomas Becket, the traitor, wherein you pray. That you may be saved 
 by the blood of St. Thomas. And as for your Latin service, what are 
 we of the laity the better for it ? I think he that should hear your 
 priests mumble up their service, although he did well understand 
 Latin, yet should he understand few words thereof, the priests do so 
 champ them and chew them, and post so fast, that they neither under- 
 stand what they say, nor they that hear them ; and in the mean time 
 the people, when they should pray with the priest, are set to their 
 beads to pray our lady's psalter. So crafty is Satan to devise these 
 his dreams, (which you defend with fagot and fire,) to quench the light, 
 of the word of God ; which, as David saith, should be a lantern to our 
 feet. And again, wherein shall a young man direct his ways but by 
 the word of God ? And yet you will hide it from us in a tongue un- 
 known. St. Paul had rather have five words spoken with understand- 
 ing, than ten thousand in an unknown tongue ; and yet will you have 
 your Latin service and praying in a strange tongue, whereof the peo- 
 ple are utterly ignorant, to be of such antiquity ! 
 
 The Greek church, and a good part of Christendom besides, never 
 received your service in an unknown tongue, but in their own natural 
 language, which all the people understand, neither yet your transub- 
 stantiation, your receiving in one kind, your purgatory, your ima- 
 ges, &c. 
 
 As for the unity M'^hich is in your church, what is it else but trea- 
 son, murder, poisoning one another, idolatry, superstition, and wick- 
 edness ? What unity was in your church, when there were three 
 popes at once ? Where was your head of unity when you had a wo- 
 man pope? 
 
 Here he was interrupted, and could not be suffered to proceed. 
 
 The bishop then said, Roger, these thy words are downright bias 
 phemy, and by the means of thy friends thou hast been suffered to 
 speak, and art over malapert to teach any here. Therefore, keeper, 
 take him away. 
 
 The second Examination of Roger Holland. 
 
 The day that Henry Pond and the rest were brought forth to be 
 again examined, Dr. Chedsey said, Roger, I trust you have now better 
 considered of the church than you did before. 
 
 Holland. I consider thus much : that out of the church there is no 
 salvation, as divsrs ancient doctors say. 
 
 Bonner. That is well said. Mr. Eglestone, I trust your kinsman 
 will be a good catholic man. But, Roger, you mean, I trust, the 
 church of Rome. 
 
 Holland. I mean that church which hath Christ for her head ; 
 which also hath his word, and his sacraments according to his word 
 and institution. 
 
 Then Chedsey interrupted him, and said, Is that a Testament you 
 have in your hand ? 
 
 Holland. Yea, Mr. Doctor, it is a New Testament. You will find 
 
ROGER HOLLAND. 449 
 
 no fault with the translation, I think. It is your own translation ; it 
 is according to the great Bible. 
 
 Bonner. How say you? How do you know that it is the Testa- 
 ment of Christ, but only by the church 1 For the church of Rome 
 hath and doth preserve it, and out of the same hath made decrees, 
 ordinances, and true expositions. 
 
 No, (saith Roger,) the church of Rome hath and doth suppress the 
 reading of the Testament. And what a true exposition, I pray you, 
 did the pope make thereof, when he put his foot on the emperor's 
 neck, and said, " Thou shalt walk upon the lion and the asp ; the 
 young lion and the dragon shalt thou tread under thy foot ?" 
 Psalm xci. 
 
 Then said the bishop. Such unlearned wild heads as thou and 
 others, would be expositors of the scripture. Would you then the 
 ancient learned (as there are some here as well as I) should be taught 
 of you ? 
 
 Holland. Youth delighteth in vanity. My wildness hath been 
 somewhat the more by your doctrine, than ever I learned out of this 
 book of God. But (my lord) I suppose some old doctors say, if a 
 poor layman bring his reason and argument out of the word of God, 
 he his to be credited before the learned, though they be ever such 
 great doctors. For the gift of knowledge was taken from the learned 
 doctors, and given to poor fishermen. Notwithstanding, I am ready 
 to be instructed by the church. 
 
 Bonner. That is very well said, Roger. But you must understand 
 that the church of Rome is the Catholic church. Roger, for thy 
 friend's sake, (I promise thee) I wish thee well, and I mean to do thee 
 good. Keeper, see he want nothing. Roger, if thou lackest any 
 money, to pleasure thee, I will see thou shalt not want. This he spake 
 unto him alone, his companions being apart, with many other fair 
 promises, and so he was sent to prison again. 
 
 His last Examination. 
 
 The last examination of Roger Holland was when he with his fel- 
 low prisoners were brought into the consistory, and there all excom- 
 municated, except Roger, and ready to have their sentence of judg- 
 ment given, with many threatening words to affright them withal : 
 the Lord Strange, Sir Thomas Jarret, M. Eglestone, Esq., and divers 
 others of worship, both of Cheshire and Lancashire, that were Roger 
 Holland's kinsmen and friends, being there present, who had been 
 earnest suitors to the bishop in his favour, hoping for his safety of life. 
 Now the bishop, hoping yet to win him with his fair and flattering 
 words, began after this manner. 
 
 Bonner. Roger, I have divers times called thee before me at my 
 own house, and have conferred with thee, and being not learned in 
 the Latin tongue, it doth appear unto me that thou hast a good me- 
 mory, and very sensible in talk, but something over hasty, which is a 
 natural impediment incident to some men. And surely they are not 
 the worst natured men. For I myself am now and then too hasty, but 
 mine anger is soon over. So, Roger, surely I have a good opinion of 
 you, that you will not with these fellows cast yourself headlong from 
 the church of your parents and your friends that are here, very good 
 catholics, (as it is reported to me.) And as I mean thee good, so, 
 
 57 
 
450 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Roger, play the wise man's part, and come home with the lost son 
 and say, I have run into the church of schismatics and heretics, from 
 the catholic church of Rome, and you shall, I warrant you, not only 
 find favour at God's hands, but the church that hath authority, shall 
 absolve you, and put new garments upon you, and kill the fatling to 
 make thee good cheer withal ; that is, in so doing, as meat doth re- 
 fresh and cherish the mind, so thou shalt find as much quietness of 
 conscience in coming home to the church, as did the hungry son that 
 had been fed before with the hogs, as you have done with.these here- 
 tics that sever themselves from the church. But, Roger, if I did not 
 bear thee and thy friends good will, I would not have said so much as 
 I have done, but I would have let mine ordinary alone with you. 
 
 At these words his friends there present thanked the bishop for his 
 good will, and for the pains he had taken in his and their behalf. 
 
 Then the bishop proceeded, saying. Well, Roger, how say you ? 
 Do you not believe, that after the priest hath spoken the words of con- 
 secration, there remaineth the body of Christ really and corporeally, 
 under the forms of bread and wine ? I mean the self-same body as 
 was born of the Virgin Mary, that was crucified upon the cross, that 
 rose again the third day. 
 
 HoUand. Your lordship saith, the same body which was born of 
 the Virgin Mary, which was crucified upon the cross, which rose again 
 the third day : but you leave out, who ascended into heaven : and the 
 scripture saith, he shall there remain until he come to judge the 
 quick and the dead. Then he is not contained under the forms 
 of bread and wine, by Hoc est corpus meuTn, &c. 
 
 Bonner. Roger, I perceive my pains and good will will not pre- 
 vail, and if I should argue with thee, thou art so wilful, (as all thy fel- 
 lows be, standing in thine own singularity and foolish conceit,) that 
 thou wouldst still talk to no purpose this seven years, if thou mightest 
 be suffered. Answer whether thou wilt confess the real and corpo- 
 real presence of Christ's body in the sacrament, or wilt not. 
 
 Holland. My lord, although God by his sufferance hath here placed 
 you, to set forth his truth and glory in us, his faithful servants, not- 
 withstanding your meaning is far from the zeal of Christ ; and, for 
 all your words, you have the same zeal that Annas and Caiphas had, 
 trusting to their authority, traditions, and ceremonies, more than to 
 the word of God. 
 
 Bonner. If I should suffer him, he would fall from reasoning to 
 raving, as a frantic heretic. 
 
 Roger, (said the Lord Strange,) my lord would have you tell him, 
 whether you will submit yourself, or no. 
 
 Yea, said Bonner, and confess this presence that I have spoken of. 
 
 With this Roger turned to the Lord Strange,and the rest of his kins- 
 men and friends, and kneeling down upon his knees, said, God, by the 
 mouth of his servant Paul, hath said, " Let every soul submit himself 
 unto the higher powers, and he that resisteth, receiveth his own dam- 
 nation :" and as you are a magistrate appointed by God, so I submit 
 myself unto you, and to all such as are appointed for magistrates. 
 
 Bonner. That is well said ; I see you are no anabaptist. How say 
 you then to the presence of Christ's body and blood in the sacrament 
 of the altar ? 
 
 Holland. I say, and beseech you all to mark and bear witness with 
 
ROGER HOLLAND. 45I 
 
 me, (for so you shall do before the judgment seat of God,) what I 
 speak ; for here is the conclusion ; and ye, my dear friends, (turning 
 to his kinsmen,) I pray you show my father what I do say, that he 
 may understand that I am a Christian man. I say and believe, and 
 am therein fully persuaded by the scriptures, that the sacrament of 
 the supper of our Lord, ministered in the holy communion according 
 to Christ's institution, I being penitent and sony for my sins, and 
 minding to amend and lead a new life, and so coming worthily unto 
 God's board in perfect love and charity, do there receive, by faith, 
 the body and blood of Christ. And though Christ in his human 
 nature sit at the right hand of his Father, yet (by faith I say) his 
 death, his passion, his merits are mine, and by faith I dwell in 
 him, and he in me. And as for the mass, transubstantiation, and the 
 worshipping of the sacrament, they are mere impiety and horrible 
 idolatry. 
 
 I thought so much, said Bonner, (suffering him to speak no more,) 
 how he would prove a very blasphemous heretic as ever I heard. 
 How irreverently doth he speak of the blessed mass ! And so he 
 read his sentence of condemnation, adjudging him to be burned. 
 
 All this while Roger was very patient, and when he should depart, 
 he said, My lord, I beseech you to suffer me to speak two words. 
 The bishop would not hear him, but bade him away. Notwith- 
 standing, being requested by his friends, said, Speak, what hast thou 
 to say. 
 
 Holland, Even now I told you that your authority was from God, 
 and by his sufferance : and now I tell you God hath heard the prayer 
 of his servants, which hath been poured forth with tears for his af- 
 flicted saints whom you daily persecute, as now you do us. But this 
 I dare be bold in God to say, (by whose Spirit I am moved,) that God 
 will shorten your hand of cruelty, that for a time you shall not molest 
 his church. And this you shall in a short time well perceive, my 
 dear brethren, to be most true. For after this day, in this place there 
 shall not be any by him put to the trial of fire and fagot : [and after 
 that day there was none that suffered in Smithfield for the truth of 
 the gospel.] 
 
 Then said Bonner, Roger, thou art, I perceive, as mad in these thy 
 heresies as ever was Joan Boucher. In anger and fume thou wouldst 
 become a railing prophet. Though thou and all the rest of you 
 would see me hanged, yet I shall live to burn, yea, and I will burn 
 all the sort of you that come into my hands, that will not worship the 
 blessed sacrament of the altar, for all thy prattling : and so he went 
 his way. 
 
 Then Roger Holland began to exhort his friends to repentance, 
 and think well of them that suffered for the testimony of the gospel, 
 and with that the bishop came back, charging the keeper that no 
 man should speak to them without his license, and if they did, they 
 would be committed to prison. In the mean time Henry Pond and 
 Roger spake still unto the people, exhorting them to stand firm in the 
 truth : adding moreover, that God would shorten these cruel and evil 
 days for his elect's sake. 
 
 The day they suffered, a proclamation was made, that none should 
 be so bold as to speak or talk any word unto them, or receive any 
 thing of them, or to touch them, upon pain of imprisonment, without 
 
452 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 either bail or mainprize; with other cruel threatening words, con- 
 tained in the same proclamation. Notwithstanding, the people cried 
 out desiring God to strengthen them ; and they likewise still prayed 
 for the people, and the restoring of the word. At length, Roger, 
 embracing the stake and the reeds, said these words : 
 
 " Lord, I most humbly thank thy Majesty, that thou hast called 
 me from the state of death, unto the light of thy heavenly word, and 
 now unto the fellowship of thy saints, that I may sing and say. Holy, 
 holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts. And, Lgrd, into thy hands I commit 
 my spirit. Lord, bless these thy people, and save them from idola- 
 try." And so he ended his life, looking up unto heaven, praying to, 
 and praising God, with the rest of his fellow-saints. For whose joy- 
 ful constancy the Lord be praised. 
 
 Scourging of Thomas HinsJiaw, hy Bonner 
 
 When Bishop Bonner found that his examinations, persuasions, 
 threats, and imprisonments, were to no purpose with Thomas Hin- 
 shaw, one of those who had been apprehended at Islington, he took 
 him to Fulham, where, immediately after his coming, he was set in 
 the stocks, remaining there all the first night, with no other refresh- 
 ment than bread and water. 
 
 The next morning the bishop came and examined him himself, 
 and perceiving no yielding in his mind, he sent Mr. Harpsfield to 
 talk with him ; who, after a long dispute, at last fell into a passion, 
 railing Hinshaw " peevish boy," and asking him " whether he 
 thought he went about to damn his soul, or no V <fec. To all this 
 Hinshaw answered, " That he was persuaded that they laboured to 
 maintain their dark and devilish kingdom, and not for any love of 
 truth." Harpsfield, being greatly incensed, told the bishop of this ; 
 who was thereat in as great a rage as himself, and, although scarce 
 able to speak for anger, cried out, " Dost thou answer my archdea- 
 con so, thou naughty boy ? I shall handle thee well enough, be as- - 
 sured." He then sent for a couple of rods, and causing Hinshaw to 
 kneel against a long bench in an arbour in his garden, severely scour- 
 ged him, with his own hands, till he was compelled to desist from 
 fatigue. 
 
 After this scourging, Hinshaw was several times examined : and 
 at last being brought before the bishop, in his chapel at Fulham, arti- 
 cles were exhibited against him, which the young man denied, and 
 would not affirm, or consent to any of their interrogatories. 
 
 Being remanded to prison, about a fortnight after, he fell sick of an 
 ague, whereupon he was delivered, after much entreaty, to his mas- 
 ter, Martin Pugson, in St. Paul's churchyard ; for the bishop thought 
 he was more likely to die than to live ; indeed his sickness continued 
 a twelve month or more, so that in the mean time Queen Mary died. 
 He shortly after recovered his health, and thus escaped the death de- 
 signed for him by the persecutors. 
 
 Scourging of John Willes, hy Bonner. 
 
 We have an account of another person who was also scourged by 
 Bonner : he was named John Willes, " a right faithful, and true ho- 
 nest man in all his dealings and conditions." He had been apprehend- 
 ed at Islington, with the company before-mentioned, and being com- 
 
SCOURaiNG OP JOHN WILLED. 45^ 
 
 mitted to the coal-house, with Thomas Hinshaw, remained one night 
 there in the stocks. , 
 
 The account then goes on to state that, " from the coal-house he 
 was sent to Fulhara, where he, with the said Hinshaw, remained eight 
 or ten days in the stocks ; during which time he sustained divers con- 
 flicts with the said Bonner, who had him often in examination, urging 
 him, and with a stick which he had in his hand, often rapping him on 
 the head, and flirting him under the chin, and on the ears, saying he 
 looked down like a thief. Moreover, after he had essayed all man- 
 ner of ways to make him recant, and could not, at length taking him 
 to his orchard, there within a little arbour, with his oAvn hands beat 
 him first with a willow rod, and that being worn well nigh to the 
 stumps, he called for a birch rod, which a lad brought out of his- 
 chamber. The cause why he so beat him was this : Bonner asked 
 him when he had crept to the cross. lie answered. Not since he 
 came to years of discretion, neither would, though he should be torn 
 by wild horses. Then Bonner desired him to make a cross on his 
 forehead, which he refused to do. Whereupon he had him imme- 
 diately to his orchard, and there calling for rods, showed his cruelty 
 upon him, as he had done upon Thomas Hinshaw. 
 
 " This done, he had him immediately to the parish church of Ful- 
 ham, with the said Thomas Hinshaw, and Robert Willes ; to whom 
 there, being severally called before him, he ministered certain arti- 
 cles, asking if he would subscribe to the same. To which he made 
 his answer according to his conscience, denying them all, except one 
 article, which was concerning King Edward's service in English. 
 •Shortly after this beating, Bonner sent a certain old priest lately come 
 from Rome, to him in prison, to conjure out the evil spirit from him, 
 who laying his hand upon his head, began with certain words pro- 
 nounced over him, to conjure as he had been wont before to do. 
 Willes marvelling at what the old man was about, said, I trust no evil 
 spirit is in me ; and laughed him to scorn. 
 
 " As this John Willes was divers times called before Bonner, sa 
 much communication passed between them as is too tedious to recite. 
 It is enough to make the reader laugh to see the blind and unsavoury 
 reasons with which that bishop endeavoured to delude the ignorant, 
 some of Avhich were in the following manner : Bonner going about 
 to persuade Willes not to meddle with rnatters of scripture, but ra- 
 ther to belieVe other men's teaching, who had more skill in the same, 
 asked him if he did believe the scripture : Yea, said he, that I do. 
 Then (quoth the bishop) St. Paul saith, If the man sleep, the woman 
 is at liberty to go to another man. If thou wert asleep, having a wife, 
 wouldst thou be content that thy wife should take to another man ? 
 A.nd yet this is the scripture. 
 
 " Also, if thou wilt believe Luther, Zuinglius, and such, then thou 
 canst not go right ; but if thou wilt believe me, <fec. thou canst not 
 err ; and if thou shouldst err, yet thou art in no danger, thy blood 
 should be required at our hands. And if thou shouldst go to a far 
 country, and meet with a fatherly man, as I am, (these were his words,) 
 and ask the way to the city, and he should say. This way, and thou 
 wilt not believe him, but follow Luther, and other heretics of late days, 
 and go a contrary way, how Avilt thou come to the place thou askest 
 for ? So if thou wilt not believe me, but follow the leading of other 
 
454 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 heretics, thou shall be brought to destruction, and burn both body and 
 soul. 
 
 " As truly as thou seest the bodies of them in Smithfield burnt, so 
 truly their souls do burn in hell, because they err from the true church. 
 
 " Oft times speaking to the said John Willes, he would say, they 
 call me bloody Bonner. A vengeance on you all ! I would fain be 
 rid of you, but you have a delight in burning. But if I might have 
 my will, I would sew up your mouths, and put you in sacks and 
 drown you. 
 
 " The same day that he was delivered, Bonner came to the stocks 
 where he lay, and asked him how he liked his lodging, and his fare. 
 
 " Well, (said Willes,) if it would please God, I might have a little 
 straw to lie or sit upon. 
 
 " Then (said Bonner) thou wilt show no token of a Christian man. 
 And upon this his wife came in unknown to him, being very great 
 with child, every hour expecting her labour, and entreated the bishop 
 for her husband, saying, that she would not go from thence, but that 
 she would there stay, and be delivered in the bishop's house, unless 
 she had her husband with her. How sayest thou (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 Fulhara, 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 
 might come upon his house thereby, and also probably fearing to be 
 troubled with a lying-in-woman, bade Willes make a cross, and say, 
 In nomine Patris, et Filii, 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 Avent 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." 
 
 Sufferings 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. 455 
 
 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, she returned to 
 her husband ; a few days after which she was accused of heresy by 
 some of her neighbours, 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 1 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, I trust your lordship will hear me speak. 
 
 Bishop. Yea, marry, 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. 
 
 Woman. Sui-ely, 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 1 
 
 Woman. Yes, truly, there never was such an idol as your sacra- 
 ment is made by your priests, and commanded to be worshipped 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 ! Dost 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, ray 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 denying 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. That 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 offer his 
 body once for all, why make you a ncAV offering ? 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, you are a jolly protestant. I pray you, in 
 what schools have you been brought up 1 
 
 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 me, 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 gp 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 me 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. 
 
Murder of Ladet, a JF'rench Protestant, near Nismes, in 
 France, in 1815. poo^e 575. 
 
 Murder of Louis Lichare, at Nismes, in France, during the 
 Massacre at that -place in 1815. ^page 586. 
 
 Murder of Gen. La Garde. poge 587, 
 
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. 
 
 Woman. No, I have but one husband, who is here already in thig 
 city, and in prison with me (from whom I will never depart.) And 
 so their communication, for that time, brake off. 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 spinning 
 and carding, and did work as a servant in the said keeper's house, and 
 she went about the city when and where she pleased, and many pefe 
 pie took great delight in talking with her : and all her discourse wau 
 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 en ....voured to persuade her to leave her "wicked opinion" 
 about the sacrament of 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 oftentimes do eat it, and 
 it doth mould, and is burned : God's body will not be so handled, nor 
 kept in prison, or bpxes, 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 whure of 
 Babylon. I defy him and all his falsehood ; and get you away from 
 me, you do but trouble my conscience. You would have me follow 
 your doings ; I will first lose my life. I pray you depart. 
 
 Why, thou foolish woman, said they, we come to thee for thy profit 
 and soul's health. 
 
 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 protest thou that, said they. 
 
 Do you 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 worship a false god of your own making of a piece of bread, and 
 teach that the pope is God's vicar, and hath power to forgive sins ? 
 
 58 
 
458 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 and that 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 i Do you not teach the people to 
 number their sins in your ears, and say they be damned, if they con- 
 fess not all ; when God's woj;d saith, who can number his sins 1 Do 
 you not promise them trentals and dirges, and masses for soids, 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 between 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 
 few 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 aftei 
 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 wife 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 
 dwelleth 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 Kede, and John his brother, 
 not only brethren in tjie flesh, but also in the truth, and men in that 
 country of great credit, whose father, R. Kede, all his life suffered 
 nothing but trouble tor the gospel. These two good brethren were 
 
 * To frighten, or scare away. 
 
ELIZABETH PREST. 459 
 
 present with Jier, both in the hall, and at the prison, and (as they said) 
 they never heard the like woman, of so godly talk, so faithful or so 
 constant. 
 
 Thus this good matron was by many ways triejd, 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 would ; 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, or 
 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 \mder these priest's 
 hands, she sustained many baitings and sore conflicts. But, in fine, 
 (after many combats and scofiing persuasions,) when they had played 
 the part of the oat 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 came, 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 thee, 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 
 she ; " 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 officei-s to the place of execution, without the 
 walls of Exeter, called Southernhay, where again these superstitious 
 priests assaulted her ; and she prayed them to have no more talk 
 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. 
 
460 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Martyrdom of John Corneford, Christopher Browne, John Herstf 
 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^re 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, Avhich 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," 
 <Scc. 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. 
 
 A.mong such women as were burned at Canterbury, it is recorded 
 of a certain maid, and supposed to be this Alice Snoth mentioned in 
 thl> 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 the stake called for her godfathers and godmothers. The jus- 
 tice hearmg her, sent for them, but they durst not come. Notwith- 
 standing the justices willed the messenger to go again, and to show 
 them that ti'vey 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- 
 mised for her, and so she immediately rehearsed her faith, and the 
 
DEATH OF aUEEN MARY. - 461 
 
 commandments of God, and required of them, if there were any more 
 that they had jjroiTiised 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 joyfully 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 Avrit had been braught 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 White, before 
 Dr. Capon, the bishop of Salisbury, Dr. Brookes, the bishop of Glou- 
 cester, with Dr. Geoffrey, the chancellor, and other priests, with 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 Maryborough. After some irrelevant mat- 
 ter, he was asked his opinion of the sacrament of the altar, when they 
 stumbled upon the very definition ofk 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 oiher, 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- 
 in-law, Mr. Clifford, of Bosco, (perhaps Boscomb,) in Wilts, deferred 
 their execution imtil he received the writ De Gomburendo ; 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 
 
462 BOOK OP 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 before, 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 sheriff to this Sir Anthony Huugerford. 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, which happened the 
 same hour when they fell into such a sudden weeping. Richard 
 White and John Hunt, after the death of the chancellor, the Ushop 
 also being dead a little before, continued still in prison till the happy 
 coming in of Queen Elizabeth ; and so were set at liberty." 
 
 Death of Qtieen 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 relentless Mary. 
 
 The queen's health had been long declining. She had, for some 
 time, been afflicted 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, aiid 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^islead of the sword of destruction. But the whole progress 
 
SCOURGING BY THE PAPISTS. 46g 
 
 of her reign does not furnish 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. 
 With her the practice of religion became the trade of mucder, and the 
 care of her people the exercise of her cruelty ; while all her views 
 for their happiness, terminated in punishments 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, 
 wlTen 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 p-rudent 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 terminate, 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 pompous 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 Avhom 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 we may be sur- 
 rounded, " shot at, and sore grieved, by the archers," lie who smote 
 
464 ' BOOK QP MARTYRS. 
 
 the army of Sennacherib, as it were with a whirlwind, 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 now 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 
 time 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 he 
 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, writfen 
 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 suflicient sacrifice unto God the Father for the sins of the 
 whole world, and that there was no more sacrifice to be ofiered 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 was 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 
 his 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 there- 
 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 m.agistrates should now hear him, and be witness 
 of this recantation, which was most blasphemous, to deny Christ's 
 sacrifice to be suflicient for penitent sinners, and to say that 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, betAveen 
 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 19 
 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 
 
Cruel tortures inflicted on Christians. page 430 — 450. 
 
 Bishop Bonner s Coal House. page 446. 
 
 Scourging of Thomas Green. page 473 
 
WILMOT AND FAIRFAX. 455 
 
 these words, and rejoicing in the same, began to speak unto him, say- 
 ing, that he was sorry to hear this news : for (said he) if Crome 
 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 him 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 all 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 
 %lse doctrine, and likewise the priests from time to time, and indeed 
 .,hose people our forefathers believed as they taught, and as they 
 thought, 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 
 oeen commonly resisters 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 
 
 59 
 
466 booBl op 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 
 comraandeth 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 upon books, and so would 
 your master, if he were wise. And with that in cagtie 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 ? 
 
 They said, they began to talk about Dr. Crome. 
 
 Then his master asked what he had said, swearing a great oath, 
 that he would make him tell him. 
 
 He said, that he trusted he had said nothing, wherewith either he 
 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 other's, 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 diuner to 
 the mayor's house, and were commanded to sit down and take dinner 
 in the hall ; and when 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 to 
 
WILMOT AND FAIRFAX. 4^7 
 
 Wilmot, 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 countryman art thou ? 
 He answered, that he was born in Cambridgeshire, and in such a 
 town. Then he asked him how long he had known Dr. Crome. He 
 said, about two years. Then he called him a lying boy, and said that 
 he (the said Wilmot) was his son. 
 
 The other said unto him, that was unlike, for tliat 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 nvunber 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 Smiday 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 to 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 wrote 
 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 his master 
 did suffer him so to do, and that he was 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 
 sufier, 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 
 
 Wilmot. 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 
 twelve years. 
 
468 BOOK OP 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 hearetli 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 Browne'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, Avhich at lengtl| 
 was granted. >- 
 
 The next day they appeared before the masters in the hall, their 
 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, we 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, atid they beat 
 
THOMAS GREEN, 4g9 
 
 them with great rods, till the blood flowed out of their bodies. As for 
 Wilraot, he could not lie in his bed for six nights after, for Brookes 
 played the tyrant Avith 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 take 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 sufler with him." To whom be honour and glory. 
 Amen 
 
 The Scourging of Thomas Green, Printer, written hy his own 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 said, Let me shift your hand and your leg, because you shall 
 not be lapae ; and he made as though he pitied me, and said. Tell me 
 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 J, and would come to no answ^si. 
 
 Then Dr. Story sent for me, and asked me whether I 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. I 
 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 scoffed 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, 
 he showed me that book, and I desired him that he would 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 was a thief, and had stolen my master's money. And I "aid, 
 
470 BOOK OP MARTYRfl. 
 
 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. 
 And 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 Cluny, and bid him 
 lay me fast in the coal-house, saying, he would make me 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 days, 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 what 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 , and said also, he wouid cut out ray 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 very gently, saying. Tell us where 
 you had the book, and of whom, and we will save you harmless. I 
 made 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 ; so 
 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 1 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 what 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 
 
 1 
 
THOMAS GREEN. 47I 
 
 as have taught the same ; with many more questions which I cannot 
 rehearse. 
 
 Moreov ar, he asked me if there were not the very body of Christ, 
 flesh, blc 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 „eT 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." 
 df'Ap 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 questions to me, to which I 
 made no answer. Among others, he brought Chrysostom and St. 
 Hierome, for his purpose. To whom I answerer), 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 answer. 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 without company, in a pri- 
 son called Salt-house, having upon my leg a bolt and a fetter, and my 
 hands manacled together with 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 wherefore 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 declare 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 gfve 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 the 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 with Story, he sware a great oath that he would rack me, and 
 make me tell the truth. Then Story sending for me, commanded me 
 to be brought to Walbrook, where he and the commissioners dined ; 
 and by the way the keeper told me that I should go to the Tower to be 
 racked. So when they had dined, Story called for mo 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 Uttle 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, Thomas 
 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 Ihe 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 ray 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 I. 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 full 
 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 I 
 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 would not be- 
 come an honest man : and I said, Yes, for I 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 cruelty ; 
 and they scourged me with 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 Erfg- , 
 land. And so with many other things, which I cannot r^hea*§eV 
 when they had done whipping of me, they bid me pay my fe^Sj 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, bdroness of Willoughby and Eresby, and dutchess 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 
 hi's 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- 
 
 60 
 
474 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 chamber in a great rage, wher^ 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 words 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 together. "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 executor 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 
 your friend ; wherefore 1 will not doubt of you ; but I pray you, if I 
 
DUTCHESS OP 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 offence, 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 th« 
 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 offering 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 bishop meant to 
 call her to an account for her faith, whereby extremity might folioWt 
 devised how they might pass the seas by the queen's license. Mr. 
 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. 
 
476 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 jiot 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, Avith 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 Avay 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 Avay that 
 leads to Fiusbury 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, 01 portmanteau. 
 
DUTCHESS OP SUFFOLK. ^f 
 
 lay open before them, till by chance, more than discretioh, 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, whither 
 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 short, so soon as the dutchess 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 theHanse-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, who had received some cour- 
 tesy in England at the dutchess's 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 fcmily at 
 Santon. 
 
478 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 After they had traj^elled one English mile from the town, there fe;. 
 a mighty rain of continuance, whereby a long frc«t and ice, before 
 congealed, was thawed. But being now on the way, and overtaken 
 with the night, they sent their two servants (who only went with them) 
 to a village as they passed, to hire a car for their ease, but none could 
 be hired. At last, between six and seven o'clock of a dark night, 
 they came to Wesell, and repairing to the inns for lodging, after such 
 a painful journey, found hard entertainment ; for going from inn to 
 inn, offering large sums for a small lodging, they were refused by all 
 the inn-holders, who suspected them to be persons of bad character. 
 
 Mr. Berty, destitute of all other succour of hospitality, resolved to 
 bring the dutchess to the porch of the great church in the town, and 
 so to buy coals, victuals, and straw for their miserable repose there 
 that night, or at least till by God's help he might provide her better 
 lodging. Mr. Berty at that time understood not much Dutch, and by 
 reason of bad weather and late season of the night, he could not 
 happen upon any that could speak English, French, Italian, or Latin. 
 Till at last going towards the church-porch, he heard two striplings 
 talking Latin, to whom he approached, and offered them two stivers 
 to bring him to some Walloon's house. 
 
 By these boys, and God's good conduct, he chanced upon the house 
 where Mr. Perusell supped that night, who had procured them the 
 protection of the magistrates of that town. At the first knock the 
 good man of the house himself came to the door, and opening it, 
 asked Mr. Berty what he was. Mr. Berty said, an Englishman, that 
 sought for one Mr. Perusell's house. The Walloon desired Mr. Berty 
 to stay a while, who went back, and told Mr. Perusell, that the same 
 English gentleman, of whom they had talked at supper time, had 
 sent by likelihood his servant to speak with him. Whereupon Peru- 
 sell came to the door, and beholding Mr. Berty, the dutchess, and 
 their child, could not speak to them, nor they to him, for tears. At 
 length recovering themselves, they saluted one another. 
 
 Within a few days after, by Mr. Perusell's means, they hired a 
 very fair house in the town. The time thus passing forth, as they 
 thought themselves thus happily settled, suddenly a watch-word came 
 from Sir John Mason, then Queen Mary's ambassador in the Nether- 
 lands, that my Lord Paget had feigned an errand to the baths that 
 way : and whereas the duke of Brunswick was shortly with ten en- 
 signs to pass by Wesell for the service of the house of Austria against 
 the French king, the said dutchess and her husband should be with 
 the same company intercepted. 
 
 Wherefore to prevent the cruelty of these enemies, Mr. Berty with 
 his wife and child departed to a place called Wineheim, under the 
 Palsgrave's dominion ; where they continued till their necessaries be- 
 gan to fail them. At which time, in the midst of their despair, there 
 came suddenly to them letters from the Palatine of Vilva, that the 
 king of Poland was informed of their hard estate by a baron, named 
 Joannes Alasco, that was sometime in England, offering them great 
 courtesy. This greatly revived their spirits. Yet considering they 
 should remove from many of their countrymen and acquaintance, to 
 a place so far distant, they advised thereupon with one Mr. Carloe, 
 late bishop of Chichester, that if he would vouchsafe to take some 
 pains therein, they would make him a fellow of that journey. So 
 
DUTCHESS OP 8UFPOLK. 479 
 
 finding him agreeable, they sent with him letters of great thanks to 
 the king and palatine, and also a few principal jewels, (which only 
 they had left of many,) to solicit for them, that the king would vouch- 
 safe under his seal, to assure them of the thing which he so honoura- 
 bly by letters had offered. 
 
 That favour, by the forwardness of the Palatine, was as soon 
 granted as uttered. Upon which assurance the said dutchess and her 
 husband, with their family, began their journey, in April, 1557, from 
 the castle of "Wineheim, where they before lay, towards Frankfort. 
 In which their journey, it where too long here to describe what dan- 
 gers fell by the way, upon them and their whole company by reason of 
 the Landgrave's captain, who, under a quarrel, pretended for a spa- 
 niel of Mr. Berty's, set upon them in the highway with his horsemen, 
 thrusting their boar-spears through the wagon where the women and 
 children were, Mr. Berty having but four horsemen along with him. 
 In which scuffle it happened that the captain's horse was slain under 
 him. 
 
 Whereupon a rumour was spread immediately through the towns 
 and villages about, that the Landgrave's captain should be slain by 
 certain Walloons, which exasperated the countrymen the more fiercely 
 against Mr. Berty, as afterward it proved. For as he was motioned 
 by his wife to save himself by the swiftness of his horse, and to reco- 
 ver some town thereby for his rescue, he so doing, was in worse 
 case than before ; for the townsznen and the captain's brother, sup- 
 posing no less but that the captain had been slain, pressed so eagerly 
 upon him, that he had been there taken and murdered among them, 
 had not he, (as God would have it) espied a ladder leaning to a win- 
 dow, by which he got into the house, and went up into the garret, 
 where, with his dagger and rapier he defended himself for a time : 
 but at length the burgomaster coming thither with another magis- 
 trate, who could speak Latin, he was advised to submit himself to the 
 order of the law. Mr. Berty knowing himself to be clear, and the 
 captain to be alive, was the more bold to submit himself to the judg- 
 ment of the law, upon condition that the magistrate would receive 
 him under safe conduct, and defend him from the rage of the multi- 
 tude. Which being promised, he willingly delivered up his weapons, 
 and peaceably surrendered himself into the hands of the magistrates, 
 and so was committed to safe custody till the truth of his cause could 
 be tried. 
 
 Then Mr. Berty wrote a letter to the Landgrave, and another to 
 the earl of Erbagh, dwelling about eight miles off, who came early 
 in the morning to the town, where the dutchess was brought in with 
 her wagon, Mr. Berty also being in the same town under custody. 
 
 The earl, who had some intelligence before of the dutchess, after 
 he was come and had showed her such courtesy as he thought be- 
 longed to her estate and dignity, the townsmen perceiving the earl 
 behave himself so humbly to her, began to consider more of the mat- 
 ter, and farther understanding the captain to be alive, both they and 
 the authors of this stir drew in their horns, shrunk away, and made 
 all the friends they could to Mr. Berty and his lady, beseeching them 
 not to report their doings after the worst manner. 
 
 And thus Mr. Berty and his wife, escaping that danger, proceeded 
 in their journey toward Poland, where in conclusion they were quietly 
 
480 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 entertained by the king, and placed honourably in the earldom of the 
 said king of the Poles, in Sanogelia, called Crozan, where Mr. Berty, 
 with the dutchess, having the king's absolute power of government 
 over the said earldom, continued in honour, peace, and plenty? till the 
 death of Queen Mary. 
 
 Ti'oubles and deliverance of Dr. Sands, afterwards ArchlisTiop of 
 
 York. 
 
 Dr. Sands was vice-chancellor of Cambridge at the time that the 
 duke of Northumberland came hither, on King Edward's death, to 
 proclaim Lady Jane queen ; and, with others, being sent for to sup 
 with the duke, was required to preach on the morrow. On taking 
 the Bible in his hand, and shutting his eyes, he earnestly prayed to 
 God that it might fall open where a most fit text should be for him 
 to treat of. The Bible, as God would have it, fell open upon the first 
 chapter of Joshua, the three last verses, where he found so conve- 
 nient a place of scripture for that time, that the like he could not find 
 in the whole Bible. His text was thus : "Andthey answered Joshua, 
 saying. All that thou commandest us we will do, and whithersoever 
 thou sendest us, we will go. According as we hearkened unto Moses 
 in all things, so will we hearken unto thee : only the Lord thy God be 
 with thee, as he was with Moses. Whosoever he be that doth rebel 
 against thy commandment, and will not hearken unto thy words, in all 
 that thou commandest him, he shall be put to death : only be strong 
 and of good courage." 
 
 Whosoever shall consider what was concluded by such as called 
 themselves the state, and likewise the auditory, the time, and other 
 circumstances, may easily see that this text most fitly served for the 
 purpose. And as God gave the text, so gave he such order and utter- 
 ance, as drew many tears out of the eyes of the greatest of them. 
 
 In the time of his sermon, one of the guard lifted a mass-book and 
 a grail up to him in the pulpit, which Sir George Harwood, with cer- 
 tain of the guard, had taken that night in Mr. Hurlstone's house, where 
 Lady Mary had been a little before, and there had mass. The duke, 
 with the rest of the nobility, required Dr. Sands to put his sermon in 
 writing, and appointed Mr. Leaver to go to London with it, and to 
 put it in print. Dr. Sands required one day and a half for writing of 
 It. At the time appointed he had made it ready, and Mr. Leaver was 
 ready booted to receive it at his hands, and carry it to London. As 
 he was delivering it, one of the beadles, named Adams, came weeping 
 to him, and prayed him to shift for himself, for the duke was retired, 
 and Queen Mary proclaimed. 
 
 Dr. Sands was not troubled thereat, but gave the sermon written to 
 Mr. Layfield. Mr. Leaver departed home, and he went to dinner to 
 one Mr. More's, a beadle, his great friend. At the dinner Mrs. More 
 seeing him merry and pleasant, (for he had ever a man's courage, and 
 could not be terrified,) drank unto him, saying, Master Vice-chancel- 
 lor, I drink unto you, for this is the last time that I shall see you. 
 And so it was ; for she was dead before Dr. Sands returned out of 
 Germany. The duke that night retired to Cambridge, and sent for 
 Dr. Sands to go with him to the market-place to proclaim Queen 
 Mary. The duke cast up his cap with others ; but the tears ran down 
 his cheeks with grief. He told Dr. Sands, that Qi.ieen Mary was a 
 
DR. SANDS. 
 
 481 
 
 merciful woman, and that he doubted not tliereof ; declaring^ that he 
 had sent unto her to know her pleasure, and looked for a general 
 pardon. Dr. Sands answered, My life is not dear unto me, neither 
 have I done or said any thing that urgeth my conscience. For that 
 which I spake of the state, I have instructions warranted by the sub- 
 scription of sixteen counsellors, neither can speech be treason ; neither 
 yet have I spoken farther than the word of God and the laws of the 
 realm do warrant me, what God will. But be you assured you shall 
 never escape death ; for if she should save you, those that now shall 
 rule will kill you. 
 
 That night the guard apprehended the duke ; and certain grooms 
 of the stable were as busy with Dr. Sands, as if they would take a 
 prisoner. But Sir John Gates, who lay then in Dr. Sands's house, 
 sharply rebuked them, and drove them away. Dr. feands, by the 
 advice of Sir John Gates, walked in the fields. In -he mean time, 
 the university, contrary to all order, had met together in consultation, 
 and ordered that Dr. Mouse and Dr. Hatcher should repair to Dr. 
 Sands's lodging, and bring away the statute-book of the university, 
 the keys, and such other things as were in his keeping; and so they 
 did : for Dr. Mouse being an earnest protestant the day before, and 
 whom Dr. Sands had done much for, was now become a papist, and 
 his great enemy. Certain of the university had appointed a congre- 
 gation at afternoon. As the bell rang to it, Dr. Sands came out of 
 the fields, and sending for the beadles, asked what the matter meant, 
 and required them to wait upon him to the schools, according to their 
 duty. So they did. And as soon as Dr. Sands, the beadles going 
 before him, came into the regent house and took his chair, one Mr. 
 Mitch, with a rabble of unlearned papists, went into a by-school, and 
 conspired together to pull him out of his chair, and to use violence 
 unto him. Dr. Sands began his oration, expostulating with the uni- 
 versity, charging them with great ingratitude, declaring that he had 
 said nothing in his sermon but what he was ready to justify, and their 
 case was all one with him : for they had not only concealed, but con- 
 sented to, that which he had spoken. 
 
 And thus while he reminded them how beneficial he had been to 
 the university, and their unthankfulness to him again, in came Mr. 
 Mitch with his conspirators, about twenty in number. One laid hands 
 on the chair to pull it from him ; another told him, that that was not 
 his place, and another called him a traitor. Whereat he perceiving 
 how they used violence, and being of great courage, groped to his 
 dagger, and had dispatched some of them as God's enemies, if Dr. 
 Bill and Dr. Blith had not fallen upon him, and prayed for God's sake 
 to hold his hands and be quiet, and patiently to bear that great offered 
 wrong. He was persuaded by them, and after that tumult was ceased, 
 he ended the oration ; and having some money of the university's in 
 his hands, he there delivered the same every farthing. He gave up 
 the books, reckonings, and keys pertaining to the university, and withal 
 yielded up his office, praying God to give the university a better offi- 
 cer, and to give them better and more thankful hearts, and so repaired 
 home to his own college. 
 
 On the morrow after there came unto him one Mr. Gerningham, 
 and Mr. Thomas Mildmay. Gerningham told him, that it was the 
 queen's pleasure, that two of the guard should attend upon him, and 
 
 61 
 
483 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 that he must be carried prisoner to the Tower of London with the 
 duke. Mr. Mildmay said, he marvelled that a learned man would 
 speak so unadvisedly against so good a prince, and wilfully run into 
 such danger. Dr. Sands answered, I shall not be ashamed of bonds ; 
 but if I could do as Mr. Mildmay can, I need not fear bonds : for he 
 came down in payment against Queen Mary, and armed in the field ; 
 and now he returned in payment for Queen Mary ; before a traitor, 
 and now a great friend ; I cannot with one mouth blow hot and cold 
 after this manner. 
 
 Upon this his stable was robbed of four very good geldings ; the 
 best of them Mr. Huddlestone took for his own saddle, and rode on 
 him to London in his sight. An inventory was taken of all his 
 goods by Mr. Moore, beadle for the university. He was set upon a 
 lame horse that halted to the ground ; which thing a friend of his 
 perceiving, prayed that he might lend him a nag. The yeomen of 
 the guard consented. As he departed forth at the town's end, some 
 papists resorted thither to jeer at him, and some of his friends tc 
 mourn for him. He came in the rank to London, the people being 
 full of outcries ; and as he came in at Bishopsgate, one like a milk- 
 woman hurled a stone at him, and hit him on the breast, with such a 
 blow, that he was like to fall off his horse ; to whom he mildly said, 
 Woman, God forgive it thee. Truth is, that that journey and 
 evil entreating so mortified him, that he was more ready to die than 
 to live. 
 
 As he came through Tower-hill, one woman standing at her door, 
 cried, Fie on thee, thou knave, thou traitor, thou heretic ! Whereat 
 he smiled. Look, the desperate heretic ! said she, and laughed at 
 this jeer. A woman on the other side of the street answered, saying, 
 Fie on thee, neighbour, thou art not worthy to be called a woman, 
 railing upon this gentleman whom thou knowest not, nor the cause 
 why he is thus treated. Then she said, Good gentleman, God be thy 
 comfort, and give thee strength to stand in God's cause, even to the 
 end. And thus he passed through rough and smooth to the Tower, 
 the first prisoner that entered in that day, which was St. James's day. 
 The yeomen of the guard took from him his borrowed nag, and 
 what else soever he had. His man, one Quinting Suainton, brought 
 after him a Bible, and some shirts and such like things. The 
 Bible was sent in to him, but the shirts and such like served the 
 yeomen of the guard. 
 
 After he had been in the Tower three weeks, in a bad prison, he 
 was brought up into Nun's-Bower, a better prison, where was put 
 along with him Mr. John Bradford. 
 
 At the day of Queen Mary's coronation their prison door was set 
 open, ever shut before. One Mr. Mitchell, his old acquaintance, 
 who had been prisoner before in the same prison, came in to him, and 
 said, Master Sands, there is such a stir in the Tower, that neither 
 gates, doors, nor prisoners, are looked to this day. Take my cloak, 
 my hat, and my rapier, and get you gone ; you may go out of the 
 gates without questioning ; save yourself, and let me do as well as I 
 can. A rare friendship ! but he refused the offer, saying, I know no 
 reason why I should be in prison ; and to do thus were to make my- 
 self guilty. I will expect God's good will, yet must I think mysell 
 much obliged to you : and so Mr Mitchell departed. 
 
, DR. SANDS ^ 483 
 
 While Dr. Sands and Mr. Bradford were thus in close prison 
 twenty-nine weeks, one John Bowler was their keeper, a very per- 
 verse papist, yet by often persuading of him, for he would give ear, 
 and by gentle using of him, at length he began to mislike popery, and 
 to favour the gospel, and was so persuaded in true religion, that 
 on a Sunday when they had mass in the chapel, he brought up a ser- 
 vice book, a manchet,* and a gjass of wine, and there Dr. Sands mi- 
 nistered the communion to Bradford and to Bowler. Thus Bowler was 
 their son begotten in bonds. When Wyatt was in arms, and the old 
 duke of Norfolk sent forth with a number of men to apprehend him, 
 that room might be made in the Tower, for him and other of his ac- 
 complices. Dr. Cranmer, Dr. Ridley, and Mr. Bradford, were cast in- 
 to one prison ; and Dr. Sands with nine other preachers were sent 
 unto the Marshalsea. 
 
 The keeper of the Marshalsea appointed to every preacher a man 
 to lead him in the street ; he caused them to go fer before, and he 
 and Dr. Sands came behind, whom he would not lead but walked fa 
 miliarly with him. Yet Dr. Sands was known, and the people every 
 where prayed to God to comfort him, and to strengthen him in the 
 truth. By that time the people's minds were altered ; popery began 
 to be unsavoury. After they passed the bridge, the keeper said to 
 Dr. Sands, I perceive the vain people would set you forward to the 
 fire. You are as vain as they, if you being a young man, will stand 
 in your own conceit, and prefer your own judgment, before that of so 
 many worthy prelates, ancient, learned, and grave men, as be in this 
 realm. If you so do, you shall find me a severe keeper, as one that 
 utterly dishketh your religion. Dr. Sands answered, I know my 
 years to be young, and my learning but small ; it is enough to know 
 Christ crucified, and he hath learned nothing who seeth not the great 
 blasphemy there is in popery. I will yield unto God, and not unto 
 man : I have read in the Scriptures, of many godly and courteous 
 keepers ; God may make you one ; if not, I trust he will give me 
 strength and patience to bear your hard usage. Then said the keep- 
 er. Are you resolved to stand to your religion ? Yes, quoth the doc- 
 tor, by God's grace. Truly, said the keeper, 1 love you the better for 
 it ; I did but tempt you ; what favour I can show you, you shall be 
 sure of, and I shall think myself happy if I might die at the stake with 
 you. He was as good as his word, for he trusted the doctor to walk 
 in the fields alone, Avhere he met with Mr. Bradford, Avho was also a 
 prisoner in the King's-Bench, and had found the same favour from his 
 keeper : he laid him in the best chamber in the house ; he would not 
 suflfer the knight-marshal's men to lay fetters on him as others had. 
 And at his request, he put Mr. Sanders in along with him, to be his 
 bed fellow, and sundry times after he suffered his wife, who Avas Mr. 
 Sands' daughter, of Essex, a gentlewoman beautiful both in body and 
 soul, to resort to hirn. There was great resort to Dr. Sands, and Mr 
 Sanders ; they had much money offered them, but they would receive 
 none. They had the communion there three or four times, and a 
 great many communicants. Dr. Sands gave such exhortation to the 
 people, (for at that time being young, he was thought very eloquent,) 
 
 * A loaf of fine white breac 
 
484 BOOK OF MARTYRS 
 
 that he moved many tears, and made the people abhor the mass, and 
 defy all popery. 
 
 When Sh-* Thomas Wyat, with his arn)y, came into Southwark, 
 he sent two gentlemen into the Marshalsea to Dr. Sands, saying, that 
 Mr. Wyat would be glad of his company and advice, and that the 
 gates should be set open for all the prisoners. He answered, tell Mr. 
 Wyat, if this his rising be of God, it will take place ; if not, it will 
 fall. For my part, I was committed here by order ; I will be dis- 
 charged by like order, or I will never depart hence. So answered Mr. 
 Sanders, and the rest of the preachers, being there prisoners. 
 
 After that Dr. Sands had been nine weeks prisoner in the Marshal- 
 sea, by the mediation of Sir Thomas Holcroft, knight marshal, he was 
 set at liberty ; Sir Thomas sued earnestly to the bishop of Winches- 
 ter, Dr. Gardiner, for his deliverance, after many repulses ; but he 
 could not prevail, except Dr. Sands would be one of their sect, and 
 then he could want nothing. He wrung out of him at last, that if the 
 queen would grant him his deliverance, he Avould not be against it ; for 
 that was Sir Thomas's last request. In the mean time he had procured 
 two ladies of the privy chamber to move the queen in it ; who was 
 contented if the bishop of Winchester would like it. The next time 
 that the bishop went into the privy chamber to speak with the queen, 
 Mr. Holcroft followed, and had his warrant for Dr. Sands's remission 
 ready, and prayed the two ladies, when the bishop should take his 
 leave, to put the queen in mind of Dr. Sands. So they did, and the 
 queen said, Winchester, v/hat think you of Dr. Sands, is he not sufii- 
 ciently punished ! As it please your majesty, saith Winchester. 
 That he spake remembering his former promise to Mr. Holcroft, that 
 he would not be against Dr. Sands, if the queen should like to dis- 
 charge him. Saith the queen, then, truly, we would that he were 
 set at liberty. Immediately Mr. Holcroft offered the queen the war- 
 rant, who subscribed the same, and called Winchester to put to his 
 hand, and so he did. The warrant was given to the knight-marshal 
 again. Sir Thomas Holcroft. As the bishop went forth of the privy 
 chamber door, he called Mr. Holcroft to him, commanding him not to 
 set Dr. Sands at liberty, until he had taken sureties of two gentlemen 
 of this country with him, each one bound in 500Z. that Dr. Sands 
 should not depart out of the realm without license. Mr. Holcroft im- 
 mediately after inet with two gentlemen of the north, friends and cou- 
 sins to Dr. Sands, who offered to be bound in body, goods, and lands 
 for him. After dinner, the same day, Mr. Holcroft sent for Dr. Sands 
 to his lodgings at Westminster, requiring the keeper to accompany 
 him. He came accordingly, finding Mr. Holcroft alone walking in 
 the garden. Mr. Holcroft imparted his long suit, with the whole pro- 
 ceeding, and what effect it had taken, to Dr. Sands ; much rejoicing 
 that it was his good hap to do lAm good, and to procure his liberty, 
 and that nothing remained, but that he would enter bonds witli his two 
 sureties, for not departing out of the realm. Dr. Sands answered, I 
 give God thanks, who hath moved your hearts to mind me so well, and 
 1 think myself most bound unto you. God shall requite, and I shall 
 
 * In old writers, knights are frequently mentioned indifferently, either by the title 
 of Sir or Mr. as may bo seen in many instances in tills work, and others of the same 
 
 period. 
 
 
* DR. BANDS. 485 
 
 never be found unthankful. But as you have dealt friendly with me, 
 I will also deal plainly with you. I came a freeman into prison ; I 
 will not go forth a bondman. As I cannot benefit my friends, so will 
 I not hurt them. And if I be set at liberty, I will not tarry six days 
 in this realm, if I may get out. If, therefore, I may not get free forth, 
 send me to the Marshalsea again, and there you shall be sure of me. 
 
 This answer Mr. Holcroft much misliked ; he told Dr. Sands, that 
 the time would not long continue, a change would shortly come, the 
 state was but a cloud, and would soon shake away. And that his cou- 
 sin. Sir Edward Bray, would gladly receive him and his wife into his 
 house, where he should never need to go to church, and the Lady Bray 
 was a zealous gentlewoman, who hated popery. Adding, that he 
 would not so deal with him to lose all his labour. When Dr. Sands 
 could not be removed from his former saying, Mr. Holcroft said, see- 
 ing you cannot be altered, I will change my purpose, and yield unto 
 you. Come of it what will, I will set you at liberty : and seeing you 
 have a mind to go over sea, get you gone as quick as you can. One 
 thing I require of you, that while you are there, you write nothing to 
 me hither, for so you may undo me. He friendly kissed Dr. Sands, 
 bade him farewell, and commanded the keeper to take no fees of him, 
 saying, let me answer Winchester as I may. 
 
 Dr. Sands returning with the keeper to the Marshalsea, tarried all 
 night, and on the morrow he gave a dinner to all the prisoners, to 
 which he invited his bed-fellow, and sworn stake fellow, if it had so 
 pleased God. When he took his leave, he said, Mr. Sanders, fare- 
 well, with many tears and kisses, the one falling on the other's neck, 
 and so departed, cleg,rly delivered without examination or bond. 
 From thence he went to the King's Bench, and there talked with Mr. 
 Bradford, and Dr. Farrar, bishop of St. David's, then prisoners. Then 
 he comforted them, and they praised God for his happy deliverance. 
 He went by Winchester's house, and there took boat, and came to a 
 friend's house in London, called William Banks, and tarried there 
 one night. The next night he shifted to another friend's house, and 
 he heard that search was made for him. 
 
 Dr. Watson, and Mr. Christopherson, coming to the bishop of Win- 
 chester, told him that he had set the greatest heretic in England at v 
 liberty, and one that had of all others most corrupted the university 
 of Cambridge, namely, Dr. Sands. Whereupon the bishop, being 
 chancellor of England, sent for all. the cons.tables of London, com- 
 manding them to watch for Dr. Sands, who was then within the city, 
 and to apprehend him, and whosoever of them should take him, and 
 bring him to him, he should have five pounds for his labour. Dr. 
 Sands suspecting the matter, conveyed himself by night to one Mr 
 Berty's house, a stranger who was in the Marshalsea prisoner with 
 him awhile ; he was a good protestant, and dwelt in Mark-lane. 
 There he was six days, and had one or two of his friends that repair- 
 ed to him. Then he removed to one of his acquaintance in Cornhill ; 
 he caused his man Quinting to provide two geldings for him, minding 
 on the morrow to ride into Essex to his father-in-law, where his wife 
 was. 
 
 At going to bed he found that a pair of hose which he had newly 
 bought were too long for him ; he desired the good woman of the 
 house to gend for somebody that could eut them two inches shorter. 
 
486 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 The wife required the boy of the house to carry them to the next 
 tailor ; which he accordingly did ; and he chanced (or rather God so 
 provided) to go to the very person that first made them, whose name 
 was Benjamin, a good protestant in Birch-in-lane ; and the boy de- 
 sired him to cut the hose. Said he, I am not thy master's tailor. 
 Said the boy. Because you are our next neighbour, and my master's 
 tailor dwelleth afar off, I came to you, being late in the night, for he 
 must put them on betimes in the morning. Benjamin took the hose, 
 and looking upon them, knew his handiwork, and said, These are not 
 thy master's hose, they belong to Dr. Sands, I made them for him in 
 the Tower. The boy confessed it to be so. Said he. Go to thy mis- 
 tress, pray her to sit till twelve o'clock, and then I will bring the hose 
 and speak with the doctor for his good. 
 
 At midnight the good wife of the house and Benjamin came to Dr. 
 Sands' chamber ; the good woman desired him not to be surprised at 
 their coming. He answered, Nothing can be amiss ; what God will, 
 that shall be done. Then Benjamin told him that he was the man 
 that made his hose, and that by good chance they now come to his 
 hands. God used the means, he might admonish him of his danger, 
 and advised him how to escape it, telling him, that all the constables 
 of London, whereof, he was one, watched for him, and some were so 
 greedily set, that they prayed him, if he took him, to let them have the 
 carriage of him to the bishop of Winchester, and he should have the 
 five pounds. It is well known (quoth Benjamin) that your man hath 
 provided two geldings, and that you intend to ride out at Aldgate to- 
 morrow morning, and there then you are sure to be taken. Follow 
 mine advice, and by God's grace you shall escape their hands. Let 
 your man walk all the day to-morrow in the street where your horses 
 stand, booted and ready to ride. The good man's servant of the 
 house shall take the horses, and carry them to Bethnal-green. The 
 good man shall be booted, and follow after, as if he would ride. I will 
 be here with you to-morrow about eight o'clock, it is both term and 
 parliament time, here we will break our fast, and when the streets are 
 full, we will go forth. Look wildly if you meet your brother in the 
 streets, shun him not, but outface him, and know him not. Accord- 
 ingly, Dr. Sands did, clothed like a gentleman in all respects, and 
 looked wildly, as one that had been long kept in prison out of the 
 light. Benjamin carried him through Birch-in-lane, and from one 
 lane to another till he came to Moregate. There they went forth un- 
 til they came to Bethnal-green, where the horses were ready, and 
 Mr. Hurlstone to ride with him as his man. Dr. Sands pulled on his 
 boots, and taking leave of his friend Benjamin, with tears they kissed 
 each other ; he put his hand in his purse, and would have given Ben- 
 jamin a great part of that little he had, but Benjamin would take none. 
 Yet since that, Dr. Sands remembered him thankfully. He rode that 
 night to his father-in-law, Mr. Sands, where his wife was : he had not 
 been there two hours, but it was told Mr. Sands, that there were two 
 of the guard which would that night apprehend Dr. Sands, and so 
 they were appointed. 
 
 That night Dr. Sands was guided to an honest farmer near the sea, 
 where he tarried two days and two nijhts in a chamber without com- 
 pany. After that he shifted to one James MoAver, a shipmaster, who 
 dwelt at Milton-ehore, \rfiere he expected wind for the English 
 
PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 487 
 
 fl«5et ready into Flanders. While he was there, James Mower brought 
 to him forty or fifty mariners, to whom he gave an exhortation ; they 
 hked him so well, that they promised to die for it, before that he 
 should be apprehended. 
 
 The sixth of May, being Sunday, the wind served. He took his 
 leave of his host and hostess, and went towards his ship. 
 
 At the shore Dr. Sands met with Mr. Isaac, of Kent, who had his 
 eldest son there, who, upon the liking he had to Dr. Sands, sent his 
 son with him, who aftervrards died in his father's house in Frankfort. 
 Dr. Sands and Dr. Coxe were both in one ship, being one Cockrel's 
 ship, and were within the kenning, Avhen two of the guard came thither 
 to apprehend Dr. Sands. They arrived at Antwerp, being bid to din- 
 ner by Mr. Locke. And at dinner time one George Gilpin, being se- 
 cretary to the English house, and kinsman to Dr. Sands, came to him, 
 and whispered him in his ear, and said, King Philip hath sent to make 
 search for you, and to apprehend you. Hereupon they lose from their 
 dinner in great haste, and went out of the gate leading toward Cleve- 
 land. They found a wagon, and hasted away, and came safe to Augs- 
 burg, in Cleveland, where Dr. Sands tarried fourteen days, and then 
 travelled towards Strasburgh, where, after he had lived one year, his 
 wife came to him. He fell sick of a flux, which kept him nine months, 
 and brought him to death's door. He had a child which died of the 
 plague. His wife at length fell into a consumption, and died in his 
 arms ; no man had a more godly woman to his wife. 
 
 After this, Mr. Sampson went away to Emanuel, a man skilful in 
 Hebrew. Mr. Grindall went into the country to learn the Dutch 
 tongue. Dr. Sands still remained in Strasburgh, whose support was 
 chiefly from one Mr. Isaac, who loved him most dearly, and was ever 
 more ready to give than to receive. He gave him in that space above 
 a hundred marks, which sum the said Dr. Sands paid him again, 
 and by his other gifts and frieudship showed himself to be a thankful 
 man. When his wife was dead, he went to Zurich, and there was in 
 Peter Martyr's house for the space of five weeks. Being there, as 
 they sat at dinner, word suddenly came that Queen Mary was dead, 
 and Dr. Sands was sent for by his friends at Strasburgh. That news 
 made Mr. Martyr and Mr. Jarret then there very joyful ; but Dr. 
 Sands could not rejoice, it smote into his heart that he should be called 
 to misery. 
 
 Mr. Bullinger and the ministers feasted him, and he took his leave 
 and returned to Strasburgh, where he preached ; and so Mr. Grindall 
 and he come over to England, and arrived in London the same day 
 that Queen Elizabeth was crowned. 
 
 Miraculous preservation of the Lady Elizabeth from extreme calamity 
 and danger in the time of Queen Mary, her sister. 
 
 When all hath been said and told, whatsoever can be recited touch- 
 ing the admirable working of God's present hand in defending and de- 
 livering any one person out of thraldom, never was there since the 
 memory of our fathers, any example to be showed, wherein the Lord's 
 mighty power hath more admirably showed itself, to the glory of his 
 own name, to the comfort of all good hearts, and to the public felicity 
 of this whole realm, than in the miraculous escape of the Lady Eliza- 
 beth in the time of Queen Mary, her sister. 
 
488 KOOK OF MAK.TYKS 
 
 Before she was crowned, Mary would go no whither, but would 
 have her by the hand, and send for Elizabeth to dinner and supper ; 
 but after she was crowned, she never dined or supped with her, but 
 kept her apart from her, <fcc. After this it happened, immediately 
 upon the rising of Sir Thomas Wyat, that the Lady Elizabeth and 
 Lord Courtney were charged with false suspicion of Sir Thomas Wy- 
 at's rising. Whereupon Queen Mary, whether for that surmise, or 
 for what other cause I know not, being ofiended with the said Lady 
 Elizabeth her sister, at that time lying in her house at Ashbridge, 
 the next day after the rising of Wyat, sent to her three of her coun-/ 
 sellors, to wit, Sir Richard Southwell, Sir Edward Hastings, then 
 master of the horse, and Sir Thomas Cornwallis, with their retinue 
 and troop of horsemen, to the number of two hundred and fifty, who, 
 at their sadden and unprovided coming, found her at the same time 
 sick in her bed, and very feeble and weak of body. Whither when 
 they came, ascending up to her grace's chamber, they desired one of 
 her ladies, whom they met, to declare to her grace, that there were 
 divers come from the court who had a message from the queen. 
 
 Her grace having knowledge thereof, was right glad of their com- 
 ing ; however, being then very sick, and the night far spent, (which 
 was at ten o'clock,) she requested them by the messenger, that they 
 would resort thither in the morning. To this they answered, that 
 they must needs see her, and would so do, in what case soever she 
 were. Whereat the lady being surprised, went to show her grace 
 their words, but they hastily following her, came rushing as soon as 
 she into her grace's chamber unbidden. 
 
 At whose sudden Coming into her bed-chamber, her grace, being 
 greatly amazed, said unto them. Is the haste such that it might not 
 have pleased you to come to-morrow in the morning ? 
 
 They made answer, that they were right soriy to see her in that 
 case ; and I (said she) am not glad to see you here at this time of the 
 night. Whereupon they answered that they came from the queen to 
 do their message and duty, which was to this effect, that the queen's 
 pleasure was, that she should be at London the seventh day of that 
 present month. Whereunto she said. Certainly no creature can be 
 more glad than I to come to her majesty, being right sorry that I 
 am not in a case at this time to wait on her, as you yourselves do see, 
 and can well testify. 
 
 Indeed we see it true, said they, that you do say ; for which we are 
 very sorry, although we let you to understand, that our commission 
 is such, and so straiteneth us, that we must needs bring you with us, 
 either alive or dead. Whereat she being amazed, sorrowfully said, 
 that their commission was very sore ; but yet notwithstanding she 
 hoped it would be otherwise, ami not so straight. Yes, verily, said 
 they. Whereupon they calling for two physicians, Dr. Owen and 
 Dr. Wendy, demanded of them whether she might be removed from 
 thence with life, or no ? Whose answer and judgment was, that 
 there was no impediment in their opinion to the contrary, but that 
 she might travel without danger of life. 
 
 In conclusion, they desired her to prepare against the next morn- 
 ing, at nine o'clock, to go with them, declaring that they had brought 
 vith them the queen's litter for her. After much talk, the messen- 
 
PRINCESS ELIZAKETH. 489 
 
 gers declaring how there was no prolongmg of times and dayfe, de- 
 parted to their chamber. 
 
 The next morning, at the time prescribed, they had her forth as 
 she was, very faint and feeble, and in such case that she was ready 
 to swoon three or four times between them. 
 
 Now to proceed in her journey from Ashbridge. Sick in the litter, 
 she came to Redborne, where she was guarded all night ; from thence 
 to St. Alban's to Sir Ralph Rowlet's house, where she tarried that 
 night, both feeble in body and comfortless in mind. From thence 
 they passed to Mr. Dod's house at Mims, where they also remained 
 that night; and so from thence she came to Highgate, where she be- 
 ing very sick, tarried that night and the next day. During which 
 time of her abode, there came many pursuivants and messengers from 
 the court, but for what purpose I cannot tell. 
 
 From that place she was conveyed to the court, where by the way 
 came to meet her many gentlemen to accompany her highness, who 
 were very sorry to see her in that situation. But especially a great 
 multitude of people were standing by the way, who then flocked about 
 her litter, lainenting and bewailing greatly her estate. Now when 
 she came to the court, her grace was there shvit up, and kept a close 
 prisoner, a fortnight, which was till Palm-Sunday, seeing neither king 
 nor queen, nor lord, nor friend, all that time, but only the then Lord 
 Chamberlain, Sir John Gage, and the vice-chamberlain, which were 
 attendant unto the doors. About which time Sir William Sentlowe 
 was called before the council. To whose charge was laid, that he 
 knew of Wyat's rebellion, which he stoutly denied, protesting that he 
 was a true man both to God and his prince, defying all traitors and 
 rebels ; but being straightly examined, he-was in conclusion commit- 
 ted to the Tower. 
 
 The Friday before Palm-Sunday, the bishop of Winchester, with 
 nineteen others of the council, came unto her grace from the queen's 
 majesty, and burdened her with Wyat's conspiracy ; which she utter- 
 ly denied, affirming that she was altogether guiltless therein. They 
 being not contented with this, charged her grace with business made 
 by Sir Peter Carew, and the rest of the gentlemen of the west coun- 
 try ; which also she iitterly denying, clearing her innocency therein. 
 
 In conclusion, after long debating of matters, they declared unto her ' 
 that it was the queen's will and pleasure that she should go unto the 
 Tower, while the matter was farther tried and examined. 
 
 Whereat she being amazed, said that she trusted the queen's 
 majesty would be a more gracious lady unto her, and that her high 
 ness would not otherwise conceive of her that but she was a true wo 
 man ; declaring furthermore to the lords, that she was innocent in 
 all those matters wherein they had hardened her, and desired them 
 therefore to be a farther means to the queen her sister, that she being 
 a true woman in thought, word, and deed, towards her majesty, might 
 not be committed to so notorious and doleful a place ; protesting that 
 she should request no favour at her hand, if she should be proved to 
 have consented unto any such kind of matter as they laid unto her 
 charge, and therefore, in fine, desired their lordships to think of her 
 what she was, and that she might not so extremely be dealt withal 
 for her truth. . 
 
 Whereunto the lords answered again, that there was no remedji >or 
 
 62 
 
490 BOOK Ol^' MARTYRS. 
 
 that the queen's majesty was fully determined that she should go unto 
 the tower. Wherewith the lords departed, with their caps hanging 
 over their eyes. But not long after, within the space of an hour, or 
 little more, came four of the aforesaid lords of the council, which were 
 the lord treasurer, the bishop of Winchester, the lord steward, the earl 
 of Sussex, with the guard ; who warding the next chamber to her, se- 
 cluded all her gentlemen and yeomen, ladies and gentlewomen : ex- 
 cept that for one gentleman usher, three gentlewomen, and two grooma 
 of her chamber, M^ere appointed in their rooms three other men of the 
 queen's and three waiting women, to give attendance likewise upon 
 her, that none should have access to her grace. 
 
 At which time there was a hundred northern soldiers in white coats, 
 watching and warding about the gardens all that night, and a great 
 fire being made in the midst of the hall, two certain lords were watch- 
 ing there also with their band and company. 
 
 Upon Saturday following, two lords of the council (the one was the 
 earl of Sussex, the other shall be nameless) came and certified her 
 grace, that she must go forthwith unto the tower, the barge being 
 prepared for her, and the tide nDw ready, which tarrieth for nobody. 
 In heavy mood her grace requested the lords that she might tarry 
 another tide, trusting that the next would be better and more com- 
 fortable. But one of the lords replied, that neither time nor tide was 
 to be delayed. 
 
 And when her grace requested him that she might be suffered to 
 write to the queen's majesty, he answered, that he durst not permit 
 that ; adding, that in his judgment it would rather hurt than profit her 
 grace in so doing. 
 
 But the other lord, more courteous and favourable, (who was the 
 earl of Sussex,) kneeling down, told her grace, that she should have 
 liberty to write, and as he was a true man, he would deliver it to the 
 queen's highness, and bring an answer of the same, whatsoever came 
 thereof. Whereupon she wrote, although she could in no case be 
 suffered to speak with the queen, to her great discomfort, being no 
 offender against the queen's majesty. 
 
 And thus the time and tide passed" away for that season, they privily 
 appointing all things ready that she should go the next tide, which 
 fell about midnight ; but for fear she should be taken by the way, they 
 durst not. So they stayed till the next day, heing Palm-Sunday, 
 when about nine o'clock these two returned again, declaring that it 
 was time for her grace to depart. She answered. If there be no re- 
 medy, I must be contented, willing the lords to go on before. Being 
 come forth into the garden, she cast her eyes towards the window, 
 thinking to see the queen, which she could not. Whereat she said, 
 she marvelled much what the nobility of the realm meant, which in 
 that sort would suffer her to be led into captivity, the Lord knew 
 whither, for she did not. In the mean time commandment was given 
 throughout London, that every one should keep the church, and carry 
 their palms, while in the mean season she might be conveyed with- 
 out any concourse of people to the tower. 
 
 After this, she took her barge, with the two aforesaid lords, three of 
 the queen's gentlewomen, and three of her own, her gentleman usher 
 and two of her grooms lying and hovering upon the water a certain 
 space, for that they could not slioot the bridge, the bargemen being 
 
FRINCEb'S ELIZABETH. 491 
 
 very unwilling to shoot the same so soon as they did, because of the 
 danger thereof: for the stern of the boat struck upon the ground, the 
 fall was so great and the water was so shalloAV, that the boat being 
 under the bridge, there stayed again awhile. At landing, she first 
 stayed, and refused to land at those stairs, where all traitors and of- 
 fenders customarily used to land ; neither could she well, unless she 
 should go over her shoes. The lords were gone out of the boat be- 
 fore, and asked why she came not. One of the lords went back again 
 to her, and brought word she would not come. 
 
 Then said one of the lords, (who shall be nameless,) that she should 
 not choose , and because it did then rain, he offered to her his cloak, 
 which she putting it back with her hand with a good dash, refused. 
 She coming out, having one foot upon the stairs, said. Here landeth as 
 true a subject, being prisoner, as ever landed at these stairs ; and be- 
 fore thee, O God, I speak it, having no other friends but thee alone. 
 
 To whom the same lord answered again, that if it were so, it was the 
 better for her. At her landing there was a great multitude of their 
 servants and warders standing in their order. What needed all this? 
 said she. It is the use, said some, so to be when any prisoner came 
 thither. And if it be, quoth she, for my cause, I beseech you that 
 they may be dismissed. Whereat the poor men kneeled down, and 
 with one voice desired God to preserve her grace. 
 
 After this, passing a little farther, she sat down upon a stone, and 
 there rested herself. To whom the lieutenant then being said, Ma- 
 dam, you were best to come out of the rain, for you sit unwholesomely. 
 She then replying, answered again, It is better sitting here than in a 
 worse place ; for God knoweth, I know not whither you will bring 
 me. With that her gentleman usher wept ; she demanding of him 
 what he meant by using ner so uncomfortably, seeing she took him 
 to be her comfort, and not to dismay her^ especially for that she 
 knew her truth to be such, that no man should have cause to weep for 
 her. But forth she went into prison. 
 
 The doors wc j locked and bolted upon her, which greatly discom- 
 forted and dismayed her grace. At which time she called to her gen- 
 tlewoman for her book, desiring God not to suffer her to build her 
 foundation upon the sands, but upon the rock, whereby all blasts of 
 blustering weather should have no power against her. The doors be- 
 ing thus locked, and she close shut up, the lords had great conference 
 how to keep Avard and watch, every man declaring his own opinion in 
 that behalf, agreeing straitly and circumspectly to keep her. 
 
 Then one of them, which was the lord of Sussex, swearing, said, My 
 lords, let us take lieed, and do no more than our commission will beai 
 us out in, whatsoever shall happen hereafter. And farther, let us con- 
 sider that she was the king our master's daughter ; and therefore let 
 us use such dealing, that we may answer it hereafter, if it shall so hap- 
 pen : for just dealing (quoth he) is always answerable ; whereunto the 
 other lords agreed that it was well said of him, and thereupon depart- 
 ed. Being in the tower, within two days commandment was, that 
 she should have mass within her house. One Mr. Young was then 
 her chaplain, and because there were none of her men so well learned 
 to help the priest to say mass, the mass stayed for that day. 
 
 It would make a pitiful and strange story here by the way, to re- 
 cite what examination and rackings of poor men there were to find 
 
492 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 out the knife that should cut her throat ; what gaping among my lords 
 of the clergy to see the day wherein they might wash their goodly 
 white rochets in her innocent blood ; but pspecially the bishop of 
 Winchester, Stephen Gardiner, then lord chancellor, who, within five 
 days after, came unto her, with' divers others of the council, and ex- 
 amined her of the talk that was at Ashbridge, between her and Sir 
 James Acroft, concerning her removing from thence to Dunnington 
 castle, requiring her to declare what she meant thereby. 
 
 At the first, she being so suddenly asked, did not well remember 
 any such house ; but within a while, well advising herself, she said, 
 Indeed I do now remember that I have such a place, but I never lay 
 in it in all my life. And as for any that hath moved me thereunto, I 
 do not remember. 
 
 Then to enforce the matter, they brought forth Sir James Acroft. 
 The bishop of Winchester demanded of her what she said to that man. 
 She answered, that she had little to say to him., or to the rest that were 
 then prisoners in the Tower : but, my lords, said she, you do examine 
 every mean prisoner of me, wherein methinks you do me great inju- 
 ry. If they have done evil, and oflfended the queen's majesty, let 
 them answer to it accordingly. I beseech you, my lords, join not me 
 in this sort with any of these offenders. And as concerning my go- 
 ing unto Dunnington castle, I do remember that Mr. Hobby and mine 
 officers, and you. Sir James Acroft, had such talk ; but what is that to 
 the purpose, my lords, but that I may go to mine own houses at all 
 limes ? 
 
 The lord of Arundel kneeling down, said. Your grace saith true, 
 and certainly we are very sorry that we have troubled you about so 
 vain matters. She then said. My lords, you do sift me very narrow- 
 ly : but well I am assured, you shall not do more to me than God 
 hath appointed ; and so God forgive you all. 
 
 At their departure, Sir James Acroft kneeled down, declaring he 
 was sorry to see the day in which he should be brought as a witness 
 against her grace. But I assure your grace, said he, I have been 
 marvellously tossed and examined touching your highness, which the 
 Lord knoweth, is very strange to me: for I take God to record, before 
 all your honours, I do not know any thing of that crime that you have 
 laid to my charge, and will thereupon take my death, if I should be 
 driven to so strict a trial. 
 
 That day, or thereabouts, divers of her own officers, who had made 
 provision for her diet, brought the same to the outer gate of the Tower, 
 the common soldiers receiving it ; which was no small grief unto 
 the gentlemen, the bringers thereof. Wherefore they desired to 
 speak with the lord chamberlain, who was then constable of the 
 Tower. On coming into his presence, they declared unto his lordship, 
 that they were much afraid to bring her grace's diet, and to deliver it 
 to such common and desperate persons as those who received it, be- 
 seeching his honour to consider her grace, and to give such order, 
 that her viands might at all times be brought in by them, who had 
 been appointed for that purpose. Yea, eirs, said he, who appointed 
 you this office ? They answered, her grace's council. Council ! 
 said he : there is none of them which hath to do either in that case, 
 or any thing else within this place ; and I assure you, for that she is 
 a prisoner, she shall be served by the lieutenant's men, as other the 
 
PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 493 
 
 prisoners are. One of the gentlemen on this told him, that they trust- 
 ed for more favour from his hands, considering her personage : and 
 added, that they imagined the queen and her council would be better 
 to her grace than so ; and showed themselves to be offended at the 
 ungracious words of the lord chamberlain respecting their lady and 
 mistress. 
 
 On this he swore by God, striking himself upon the breast, that if 
 they did either frown or shrug at him, he would set them where they 
 should see neither sun nor moon. Thus taking their leave, they de- 
 sired God to bring him into a better mind towards her graces and de- 
 parted from him. 
 
 Upon which occasion, her grace's officers made great suit unto the 
 queen's council, that some proper peiisons might be appointed to bring 
 her grace's diet unto her, and that it might no more be delivered by 
 the common soldiers of the Tower ; which being reasonably consi- 
 dered, was by them permitted ; and one of her gentlemen, her clerk of 
 the kitchen, and her two purveyors, were appointed to bring in her 
 provision once a day ; the warders, however, continued to wait upon 
 them on these occasions. 
 
 The lord chamberlain himself being always with them, circum- 
 spectly and narrowly watched and searched what they brought, and 
 took care that they should have no talk with any of her grace's wait- 
 ing servants, and so guarded them both in and out. At the said suit 
 of her officers, were sent, by the commandment of the council, to wait 
 upon her grace, two yeoman of her chamber, one of her robes, two 
 of her pantry and ewry, one of her buttery, another of her cellar, two 
 of her kitchen, and one of her larder, all of which continued with her 
 the time of her trouble. 
 
 Here the constable, being at the first not very well pleased with the 
 eoming in of such a company against his will, would have had his men 
 still to have served with her grace's men ; which her servants would 
 by no means suffer, desiring his lordship to be contented, for that or- 
 ders were given, that no stranger should come within their offices. 
 At which answer being sore displeased, he broke out into these 
 threatening words. Well, I will handle you well enough ! Then he 
 went into the kitchen, and there would needs have his meat roasted 
 with her grace's, and said that his cook should come thither and dress 
 it. To that her grace's cook answered. My lord, I will never suffer 
 any stranger to come about her diet, but her own sworn men, as long 
 as I live. He said^they should. But the cook said, his lordship 
 should pardon him for that matter. Thus did he trouble her poor 
 servants grievously ; though afterward he was otherwise advised, and 
 they were more courteously used at his hands. And good cause 
 why : for he had good cheer, and fared of the best, and her grace paid 
 well for ii. Wherefore he used himself afterward more reverently 
 toward her grace. 
 
 Having been a whole month there in a close prison, and being on 
 that account uneasy, she sent for the lord chamberlain and the lord 
 Chandois to come and speak with her. When they were come, she 
 requested them that she might have liberty to walk in some place, for 
 that she felt herself not well. To which they answered^ that they 
 were right sorry that they could not satisfy her grace's request, for 
 that they had commandment to the contrary, which they durst not in 
 
494 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 any wise break. She then desired of them, if that could not be grant- 
 ed, that she might but walk in the queen's lodging. No, nor yet that, 
 they answered, could by any means be obtained without a farther suit 
 to the queen and her council. Well, said she, my lords, if the matter 
 be so hard that they must be sued unto for so small a thing, and that 
 friendship be so strict, God comfort me ; and so they departed, she 
 remaining in her old dungeon still, without any kind of comfort but 
 only God. 
 
 The next day Lord Chandois came unto her grace, declaring unto 
 her that he had applied to the council for farther liberty. Some of 
 them consented thereunto, divers others dissented, for that there were 
 so many prisoners in the Tower. But, in conclusion, they did all 
 agree that her grace might walk into those lodgings, so that he, and 
 the lord chamberlain, and three of the queen's gentlewomen, did ac- 
 company her, the windows being shut, and she not suffered to look 
 out at any of them : wherewith she contented herself, and gave him 
 thanks for his good will in that behalf. 
 
 Afterwards there was liberty granted to her grace to walk in a lit- 
 tle garden, the doors and gates being shut up, which was as much 
 discomfort to her, as the walk in the garden was pleasant and accept- 
 able. At which times of her walking there, the prisoners on that 
 side were strictly commanded not to speak or look out of their windows 
 into the garden, till her grace was gone out again, having their keep- 
 ers waiting upon them for that time. Thus her grace with this small 
 liberty contented herself in God, to whom be praise therefor. 
 
 The fifth day of May, the constable of the Tower was discharged 
 from his office, and one Sir Henry Benifield placed in his room, a man 
 imknown to her grace, and therefore the more feared ; which sudden 
 alteration occasioned her no small surprise. 
 
 On Trinity Sunday, being the nineteenth day of May, she was re- 
 moved from the Tower, and conveyed to Woodstock, where she was 
 inclosed, as before in the Tower of London, the soldiers guarding both 
 within and without the walls, every day, to the number of sixty ; and 
 in the night without the walls forty, during the time of her imprison- 
 ment there. 
 
 At length she had gardens appointed for her to walk in, which was 
 very comfortable to her grace. But always when she recreated her- 
 self therein, the doors were fast locked up, in as strict a manner as 
 they were in the Tower, being at least five or six Idcks between her 
 lodging and her walks ; Sir Henry himself keeping the keys, and trust- 
 ing no man therewith. Whereupon she called him her jailor : and 
 lie, kneeling down, desired her grace not to call him so, for he was 
 appointed there to be one of her officers. From such officers, (quoth 
 she,) good Lord deliver me. 
 
 And now, by the way, as digressing, or rather refreshing the reader, 
 if it be lawful in so serious a story to recite a matter incident, and yet 
 not impertinent to the same ; occasion here moveth, or rather inforceth 
 me to touch briefly what happened in the same place and time, by a 
 certain merry conceited man, being then about her grace : who ob- 
 serving the strict and strange keeping of his lady and mistress, by the 
 said Sir Henry Benifield, with so many locks and doors, with such a 
 watch and guard about her, as was strange and wonderful, espied a 
 goat in the ward where her grace was ; and whether to refresh her 
 
PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 495 
 
 oppiessed mind, or to notify her strait handling by Sir Henr) , or else 
 both, he took it upon his neck, and followed her grace therewith as 
 she was going into her lodging. 
 
 Whiuli when she saw, she asked him what he would do with it, de- 
 siring him to let it alone. The man answered. No, by St. Mary, (if it 
 please your grace,) will I not ; for I cannot tell, whether he be one 
 of the queen's friends or not. I will carry him to Sir Henry Benifield 
 (God willing) to knoAv what he is ; so leaving her grace, he went 
 with the goat on his neck, and carried it to Sir Henry : who Avhen he 
 saw him coming with it, asked him, half angrily, what he had there. 
 
 Unto whom the man answered, saying, Sir, I cannot tell what he 
 is. I pray you examine him, for I found him in the place where my 
 lady's grace was walking, and what talk they have had, I cannot tell. 
 For I understand him not, but he should seem to me to be some stran- 
 ger, and I think verily a Welchman, for he hath a white frieze coat 
 on his back. And forasmuch as I, being the queen's subject, and 
 perceiving the strict charge committed to you, that no stranger should 
 have access to her without sufficient license, I have here found a 
 stranger (what he is I cannot tell,) in the place where her grace was 
 walking ; and therefore for the necessary discharge of my duty, I 
 thought it good to bring the said stranger to you, to examine as you 
 see cause ; and so he set him down. At this Sir Henry seemed much 
 displeased, and said. Well, well, you will never leave this gear, I see ; 
 and so they departed. 
 
 Now to return to the matter from whence we have digressed, after 
 her grace had been there a time, she applied to the council for leave 
 to write to the queen. This at last was permitted : so Sir Henry 
 Benifield brought her pen, ink, and paper ; and standing by her 
 while she wrote, (which he strictly observed,) she being sometimes 
 weary, he would carry away her letters, and bring them again when 
 she called for them. When she had finished, he would fain have 
 been messenger to the queen with the same. Whose request her 
 grace denied, saying. One of her own men should carry them, and 
 that she would neither trust him, nor any of his, with them. 
 
 Then he answered again, saying. None of them durst Le so bold, 
 (he thought,) as to carry her letters for her in her present situation. 
 Yes, said she, I am assured I have none so dishonest as to deny my 
 request in that behalf, but will be as willing to serve me nOw as be- 
 fore. Well, said he, my commission is to the contrary, and I may 
 not so suffer it. Her grace replying again, said. You charge me 
 very often with your commission. I pray God you may justly answer 
 the cruel dealings you use towards me. 
 
 Then he kneeling down, desired her grace to think and consider 
 how he was a servant, and put in trust there by the queen, to serve 
 her tnajesty; protesting, that if the case were hers, he would as 
 willingly serve her grace, as now he did the queen's highness. For 
 which answer her grace thanked him, desiring God that she might 
 never have need of such servants as he was ; declaring farther to 
 him, that his doings towards her were not good nor answerable, but 
 more than all the friends he had would stand by. 
 
 To whom Sir Henry replied, and said, that there was no remedy 
 but his doings must be answered, and so they should, trusting to 
 make good account thereof. The cause which moved her grace so 
 
496 BOOK OF MARTYRS 
 
 to say, was, for that he would not permit her letters to be carried four 
 or five days after the writing thereof. But, in fine, he was content to 
 send for her gentleman from the town of Woodstock, demanding of 
 him whether he durst enterprise the carriage of her grace's letters to 
 the queen, or no : and he answered, yes, sir, that I dare, and will 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 oflfended. 
 For (quoth she) if I have ofiended, and am guilty, I then crave no 
 mercy, but the law, which I 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 was 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. 4^7: 
 
 by some that meant her no good, the Lord doth know. Nevertheless 
 a worshipful knight of Oxfordshire, which was there joined the same 
 time with Sir Henry Benifield in keeping that lady, (who then took up 
 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 butchery wretch, 
 that he was appointed to assassinate the said Lady Elizabeth ; who 
 both saw the man, being often in her sight, and also knew thereof. 
 
 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 word behind 
 him with his brother, that no man, whosoever he were, though coming 
 with 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 
 suffer 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 off"ers 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, 
 Nothing 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 
 
 63 
 
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 : notwithstanding 
 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 she 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 
 comfort, 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 see 
 you ; for methinks 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, wherein I have been 
 kept a long time, as to you, my lords, is well knoAvn. 
 
 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 her 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 should 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. 
 
 SO that it should seem that the queen's majesty had wrongftilly 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 with 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 which 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 gentlewernen 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 <iesired God to 
 preserve her majesty, not mistrusting but that she should prove her- 
 self as true a subject towards her majesty as ©v^er 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,) I request neither favour 
 nor pardon at your majesty's hands. Well, (said the queen,) you 
 stiffly still persevere in your truth. Belike you will not confess but 
 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 borne 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 few 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, <fcc. 
 
500 BUOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Thus her grace departing, went to her lodging again, and that day 
 seven-night was released of Sir Henry Benifield, 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 time. And this is the discourse of her 
 highness's imprisonment. 
 
 Then there came to LamheA^e, Mr. Jerningham, and Mr. Norris, 
 gentlemen-ushers, Queen Mary's men, who took 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 dimir.ished, hope of comfort began to appear 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, followed 
 the death of Queen Marv. 
 
SPANISH ARMADA. 50I 
 
 BOOK XI. 
 
 A GENERAL ACCOUNT OF THE ATTEMPTS MADE BV THE PAPISTS TO 
 OVERTURN THE PROTESTANT GOVERNMENT OF ENGLAND, FROM THE 
 ACCESSION OF QUEEN ELIZABETH, TO THE REIGN OF GEORGE II. 
 
 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 
 ■ whole 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 
 hired mariners from the east part of Germany, and provided long pie - 
 ces of wood sharpened at the end, and covered with iron, with 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 ''OO English vagabonds, who were held of 
 all others in most contemp*- 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 unfaithfulness to their own coun- 
 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 
 much 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 fight. These commanders 
 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, Portland, 
 the Isle of Wight, Portsmouth, the open side of Kent, called the 
 Downs, the Thames' mouth, Harwich, Yarmouth, Hull, (fee. That 
 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 
 they might find no more victuals than what they brought with them. 
 4.nd that, by continued alarms, the enemy should find no rest day or 
 night. But they should not try any battle, until divers captains were 
 met together with their companies. That 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 Belgic war, so long as it was continually nourish- 
 ed and supported with aid 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 gifod 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 offended with Richardotus, who de- 
 nied that such words fell from him. 
 
 The 12th of April, the Count Aremberg, Champigny, Richardotus, 
 Doctor Maesius, and Garnier, 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, 19,290. Ma- 
 riners, 8,350. Chained rowers, 11,080. Great ordnance, 11,630. 
 The chief commander was Perezius Gusmannus, duke of Medina Si 
 
504 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 donia ; and under him Joannes Martinus Ricaldus, a man 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 Gvpin, 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 admiral, 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 with 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 himself with the 
 ships and soldiers of Parma; and under the promotion 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 tiie 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 the 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 difiiculty, 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 vdnds, the ocean 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 
 by, got behind them, and so got to windward of them. 
 
 TJpon 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 shiip,) 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 
 
 pended much shot. Presently Drake, Hawkins, and Forbisher, came 
 in upon the rear of the Spaniards which Ricaldus 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 with 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 Waldez 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 a light, 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, and 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 wounded, and half burned, fell inito the hands of the Eng- 
 lish, and was carried to Weymouth. 
 
 The 23d 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 Spaniardsby valour freed Rical- 
 
 64 
 
505 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 dus from the ex reme danger L .? was in ; great and many were the 
 explosions, which, by the continual tiring of great guns, were heard this 
 day. But the loss (by the good providence of God,) fell upon the 
 Spaniards, their ships being so high, that the shot went over our Eng- 
 lish ships , and the English, having 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. Wheref 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 worst 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 effect. 
 
 The 35th, 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 Avith much danger, and great loss, 
 they hardly recovered their galleon. The Spaniards reported that the 
 Spanish admiral was 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- 
 umph being in danger, other ships came in good time to help her. 
 The next day the lord admiral knighted the Lord Thomas Howard, 
 
1 SPANISH ARMADA. |JQ7 
 
 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 well furnished for fighting, 
 for sailing, and every thing else which 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 with 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 of 
 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 be 
 mended. Victuals wanted, and must be provided. The mariners 
 being long kept against their wills, began to shrink away. The ports 
 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 wind, 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 Mdth 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 Shefiield, 
 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 werp 
 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- 
 ner 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 went 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 
 times, and lodging in the borders of it, returned again and dined in the 
 
SPANISH ARMADA. 509 
 
 army. Afterwards when 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 wandered, as many 
 others did, from place to place, all the d:ay, and never heard a word 
 spoke of her, but in praising her for her stately 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 psalms 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 oflfered 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, bread, 
 &c. which was not yet ready nor embarked, secretly smiling at the 
 insolence of the Spaniards, when he heard them bragging, that what 
 way soever they came upon England, they would have an undoubted 
 victory ; that the English were not able to endure the sight of them. 
 The English admiral appointed Seimor and the Hollanders to watch 
 upon the coast of Flanders, that the duke of Parma should not come 
 
 * The queen made the foUowing animated speech to the troops assembled at 
 Tilbury ; 
 
 " My loving people, we have been persuaded by some, that are careful of our safety, 
 to take heed how we commit ourselves to anned multitudes, for fear of treachery ; but 
 I assure you, I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and loving people. Let 
 tyrants fear : I have always so behaved myself, that under God, I have placed my 
 chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good-wiU of my subjects. And 
 therefore I am come among you at this time, not as for my recreation or sport, but being 
 resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die among you all ; to lay down, 
 for my God, and for my kingdom, and for my people, my honour and my blood, even 
 in the dust. I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the 
 heart of a king, and of a king of England too ; and think foul scorn that Parma or 
 Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realms : To 
 which rather than any dishonour should grow by me, I myself will take up arms ; I my- 
 self will be your general, judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field. 
 I know already, by your forwardness, that you have deserved rewards and crowns ; and 
 I do assure you, on the word of a prince, they shall be duly paid you. In the mean 
 time my Ueutenant-general shall be in my stead, than whom never prince commanded 
 a more noble and worthy subject ; not doubting by your obedience to my general, by 
 your concord in the camp, and your valour in the field, we shall shortly have a famous 
 victory over those enemies of my God, of my kingdom, and of my people. 
 
510 BOOK OP MARTYRa 
 
 out ; whilst he himself close followed the Spaniards until they were 
 past Edinburgh Frith. 
 
 The Spaniards, seeing all hopes fail, fled amain ; and so this great 
 navy, being three years preparing, with great expense, was within 
 one month overthrown, and, after many were killed, being chased 
 again, was driven about all England, by Scotland, the Oreades, and 
 Ireland, tossed and damaged with tempests, much diminished, and 
 went home without glory. There were not a hundred men of the 
 English lost, and but one ship. Whereupon money was coined with 
 a navy fleeing away in full sail, with this inscription, Venit, Vidit, Fu- 
 git. Others were coined with the ships on fire, the navy confounded, 
 inscribed, in honour of the queen. Dux Fcemina Facti. As they fled, 
 it is certain that many of their ships were cast away upon the shores 
 of Scotland and Ireland. About seven hundred soldiers and mariners 
 were castaway upon the Scottish shore, who, at the Duke of Parma's 
 intercession with the Scotch king, the queen of England consenting, 
 were after a year sent into Flanders. But they that were cast upon 
 the Irish shore came to more miserable fortunes ; for some were kill- 
 ed by the wild Irish, and others were destroyed for fear they should 
 join themselves with the wild Irish, (which cruelty Queen Elizabeth 
 much condemned,) and the rest being afraid, sick, and hungry, with 
 their disabled ships, committed themselves to the sea, and many were 
 drowned. 
 
 The queen went to public thanksgiving in St. Paul's church, ac- 
 companied by a glorious train of nobility, through the streets of Lon- 
 don, which were hung with blue cloth, the companies standing on both 
 sides in their liveries ; the banners that were taken from the enemies 
 were spread ; she heard the sermon, and public thanks were render- 
 ed unto God with great joy. This public joy was augmented, when 
 Sir Robert Sidney returned from Scotland, and brought from the king 
 assurances of his noble mind and affection to the queen, and to reli- 
 gion ; which as in sincerity he had established, so he purposed to 
 maintain with all his power. Sir Robert Sidney was sent to him 
 when the Spanish fleet was coming, to congratulate and return thanks 
 for his great affection towards the maintenance of the common cause ; 
 and to declare how ready she would be to help him if the Spaniards 
 should land in Scotland ; and that he might recal to memory with 
 what strange ambition the Spaniards had gaped for all Britain, urging 
 the pope to excommunicate him, to the end that he might be thrust 
 from the kingdom of Scotland, and from the succession in England : 
 and to give him notice of the threatening of Mendoza, and the pope's 
 nuncio, who threatened his ruin if they could effect it ; and therefore 
 warned him to take special heed to the Scottish papists. 
 
 The king pleasantly answered. That he looked for no other benefit 
 from the Spaniards, than that which Polyphemus promised to Ulysses, 
 to devour him last after his fellows were devoured. 
 
 It may not be improper here to subjoin a list of the different arti- 
 cles taken on board the Spanish ships, designed for the tormenting of 
 the protestants, had their scheme taken effect. 
 
 1. The common soldiers' pikes, eighteen feet long, pointed with 
 
SPANISH ARMADA. 511 
 
 long sharp spikes, and shod with iron, which were designed to keep 
 off the horse, to facilitate the landing of the infantry. 
 
 2. A great number of lances used by the Spanish officers. These 
 were formerly gilt, but the gold is almost worn off by cleaning. 
 
 3. The Spanish ranceurs, made in different forms, which were in- 
 tended either to kill the men on horseback, or pull them off their 
 horses, 
 
 4. A very singular piece of arms, being a pistol in a shield, so 
 contrived as to fire the pistol, and cover the body at the same time, 
 with the shield. It is to be fired by a match-lock, and the sight of 
 the enemy is to be taken through a little grate in the shield, which is 
 pistol proof. 
 
 5. The banner, with a crucifix upon it, which was to have been car- 
 ried before the Spanish general. On it is engraved the pope's 
 benediction before the Spanish fleet sailed : for the pope came to the 
 water side, and, on seeing the fleet, blessed it, and styled it invinci- 
 ble. 
 
 6. The Spanish cravats, as they are called. These are engines of 
 torture, made of iron, and put on board to lock together the feet, arms 
 and heads of Englishmen. 
 
 7. Spanish bilboes, made of iron likewise, to yoke the English 
 prisoners two and two. 
 
 8. Spanish shot, which are of four sorts : pike-shot, star-shot, 
 chain-shot, and link-shot, all admirably contrived, as well for the de- 
 struction of the masts and rigging of ships, as for sweeping the decks 
 of their men. 
 
 9. Spanish spadas poisoned at the points, so that if a man received 
 the slightest wound with one of them, certain death was the conse- 
 quence. 
 
 10. A Spanish poll-axe, used in boarding of ships. 
 
 11. Thumb-screws, of which there were several chests full on 
 board the Spanish fleet. The use they were intended for is said to 
 have been to extort confession from the English where their money 
 was hid. 
 
 12. The Spanish morning star ; a destructive engine resembling 
 the figure of a star, of which there were many thousands on board, 
 and all of them with poisoned points ; and were designed to strike at 
 the enemy as they came on board, in case of a close attack. 
 
 13. The Spanish general's halberd, covered with velvet. All the 
 nails of this weapon are double gilt with gold ; and on its top is the 
 pope's head, curiously engraved. 
 
 14. A Spanish battle-axe, so contrived as to strike four holes in a 
 man's head at once ; and has besides a pistol in its handle, with a 
 match-lock. 
 
 15. The Spanish general's shield, carried before him as an ensign 
 of honour. On it are depicted, in most curious workmanship, the 
 labours of Hercules, and other expressive allegories. 
 
 When the Spanish prisoners were asked by some of the English 
 what their intentions were, had their expedition succeeded, they re- 
 plied, " To extirpate the whole from the island, at least all heretics, 
 (as they called the protestants,) and to send their souls to hell." — 
 ®tra'iif;e iniatuation ! Ridiculous bigotry ! How prejudiced must the 
 minds of those men be, who would wish to destroy their fellow-crea- 
 
512 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 tures, not only in this world, but, if it were possible, in that which ig 
 to come, merely because they refused to believe on certain subjects 
 ao the Spaniards themselves did. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 HOKRID CONSPIRACY BY THE PAPISTS FOR THE DESTRUCTION OF 
 JAMES I., THE ROYAL FAMILY, AND BOTH HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT ;* 
 COMMONLY KNOWN BY THE NAME OF THE GUNPOWDER PLOT. 
 
 The papists (of which there were great numbers in England at the 
 time of the intended Spanish invasion) were so irritated at the failure 
 of that expedition, that they were determined, if possible, to project a 
 scheme at Iiorae, that might answer the purposes, in some degree, of 
 their b *od-thirsty competitors. The vigorous administration of Eli- 
 zabeth, however, prevented their carrying any of their iniquitous de- 
 signs into execution, although they made many attempts with that 
 view. The commencement of the reign of her successor was destined 
 to be the era of a plot, the barbarity of whi&h transcends every thing 
 related in ancient or modern history. 
 
 In order to crush popery in the most effectual manner in this king- 
 dom, James, soon after his accession, took proper measures for 
 eclipsing the power of the Roman Catholics, by enforcing those laws 
 which had been made against them by his predecessors. This en- 
 raged the papists to such a degree, that a conspiracy was formed, by 
 some of the principal leaders, of the most daring and impious nature; 
 namely, to blow up the king, royal family, and both houses of parlia- 
 ment, while in full session, and thus to involve the nation in utter and 
 inevitable ruin. 
 
 The cabal who formed the resolution of putting in practice this hor- 
 rid scheme, consisted of the following persons : — Henry Garnet, an 
 Englishman, who, about tho year 1586, had been sent to England as 
 superior of the English Jesuits ; Catesby, an English gentleman ; 
 Tesmond, a Jesuit ; Thomas Wright ; two gentlemen of the name of 
 Winter ; Thomas Percy, a near relation of the earl of Northumber- 
 land ; Guido Fawkes, a bold and enterprising soldier of fortune ; Sir 
 Edward Digby ; John Grant, Esq. ; Francis Tresham, Esq. ; Robert 
 Keyes and Thomas Bates, gentlemen. 
 
 Most of these were men both of birth and fortune ; and Catesby, 
 who had a large estate, had already expended two thousand pounds 
 in several voyages to the court of Spain, in order to introduce an 
 army of Spaniards into England, for overturning the protestant go- 
 vernment, and restoring the Roman Catholic religion ; but, being 
 disappointed in this project of an invasion, he took an opportunity of 
 disclosing to Percy (who was his intimate friend, and who, in a sudden 
 fit of passion, had hinted a design of assassinating the king) a nobler 
 and more extensive plan of treason, such as would include a sure ex- 
 ecution of vengeance, and, at one blow, consign over to destruction 
 all their enemies. 
 
 Percy assented to the project proposed by Catesby, and they re- 
 solved to impart the matter to a few more, and, by degrees, to all the 
 
UUNPOWDER PLOT. 5|3 
 
 test of their cabal, every man being bound by an oath, and taking the 
 sacrament, (the most sacred rite of their religion,) not to disclose the 
 least syllable of the matter, or to withdraw from the association, with- 
 out the consent of all persons concerned. 
 
 These consultations were held in the spring and summer of the 
 year 1604, and it was towards the close of that year that they began 
 their operations ; the manner of which, and the discovery, we shall 
 relate with as much brevity as is consistent with perspicuity. 
 
 It had been agreed, that a few of the conspirators should run a mine 
 below the hall in which the parliament was to assemble, and that they 
 should choose the very moment when the king should deliver his 
 speech to both houses, for springing the mine, and thus, by one blow, 
 cut off the king, the royal family, lords, commons, and all the other 
 enemies of the catholic religion, in that very spot where that religion 
 had been most oppressed. For this purpose, Percy, who was at that 
 time a gentleman-pensioner, undertook to hire a house adjoining to the 
 upper house of parliament, with all diligence. This was accordingly 
 done, and the conspirators expecting the parliament would meet on 
 the 17th of February following, began, on the 11th of December, to 
 dig in the cellar, through the wall of partition, which was three yards 
 thick. There were seven in number joined in this labour : they went 
 in by night, and never after appeared in sight, for, having supplied 
 themselves with all necessary provisions, they had no occasion to go 
 out. In case of discovery, they had provided themselves with powder, 
 shot, and fire arms, and had formed a resolution rather to die than be 
 taken. 
 
 On Candlemas-day, 1605, they had dug so far through the wall as 
 to be able to hear a noise on the other side : upon which unexpected 
 event, fearing a discovery, Guido Fawkes, (who personated Percy's 
 footman,) was despatched to know the occasion, and returned with the 
 favourable report, that the place from whence the noise came was a 
 large cellar under the upper house of parliament, full of sea-coal, 
 which was then on sale, and the cellar offered to be let. 
 
 On this information, Percy immediately hired the cellar, and bought 
 the remainder of the coals : he then sent for thirty barrels of gunpow- 
 der from Holland, and landing them at Lambeth, conveyed them 
 gradually by night to this cellar, where they were covered with stones, 
 iron bars, a thousand billets, and five hundred fagots ; all which they 
 did at their leisure, the parliament being prorogued to the 5th of No- 
 vember. 
 
 This being done, the conspirators next consulted how they should 
 secure the duke of York,* who was too young to be expected at the 
 parliament house, and his sister, the Princess Elizabeth, educated at 
 Lord Harrington's, in Warwickshire. It was resolved, that Percy and 
 another should enter into the duke's chamber, and a dozen more, pro- 
 perly disposed at several doors, with two or three on horseback at the 
 court-gate to receive him, should carry him safe away as soon as the 
 parliament-house was blown up ; or, if that could not be effected, that 
 they should kill him, and declare the Princess Elizabeth qHeen, having 
 secwed her, under pretence of a hunting-match, that day. 
 
 Several of the conspirators proposed obtaining foreign aid previous 
 
 * Afterward Charles I. 
 05 
 
514 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 to the execution of their design ; but this was over-ruled, and it was 
 agreed only to apply to France, Spain, and other powers, for assist- 
 ance after the plot had taken effect ; they also resolved to proclaim 
 the princess Elizabeth queen, and to spread a report, after the blow 
 was given, that the puritans were the perpetrators of so inhuman an 
 action. 
 
 All matters being now prepared by the conspirators, they, without 
 the least remorse of conscience, and with the utmost impatience, ex- 
 pected the 5th of November. But all their counsels were blasted by 
 a happy and providential circumstance. One of the conspirators, 
 having a desire to save William Parker, Lord Monteagle, sent him 
 the following letter : 
 
 " My Lord, 
 
 " Out of the love I bear to some of your friends, I have a care for 
 your preservation ; therefore I advise you, as you tender your life, 
 to devise you some excuse to shift off your attendance at this parlia- 
 ment ; for God and man have concurred to punish the wickedness of 
 this time : and think not slightly of this advertisement, but retire your- 
 self into the country, where you may expect the event with safety ; 
 for though there be no appearance of any stir, yet I say they shall 
 receive a terrible blow, this parliament, and yet they shall not see 
 who hurts them. This counsel is not to be contemned, because it may 
 do you good, and can do you no harm ; for the danger is past so soon 
 (or as quickly) as you burn this letter ; and I hope God will give you 
 the grace to make good use of it, to whose holy protection I com- 
 mend you." 
 
 The Lord Monteagle was, for some time, at a loss what judgment to 
 form of this letter, and unresolved whether he should slight the adver- 
 tisement or not ; and fancying it a trick of his enemies to frighten him 
 into an absence from parliament, would have determined on the for- 
 mer, had his own safety been only in question : but apprehending the 
 king's life might be in danger, he took the letter at midnight to the 
 earl of Salisbury, who was equally puzzled about the meaning of it ; 
 and though he was inclined to think it merely a wild and waggish con- 
 trivance to alarm Monteagle, yet he thought proper to consult about 
 it with the earl of Suffolk, lord chamberlain. The expression, " that 
 the blow should come, without knowing who hurt them," made them 
 imagine that it would not be more proper than the time of parliament, 
 nor by any other way likely to be attempted than by gunpowder, while 
 the king was sitting in that assembly: the lord chamberlain thought 
 this the more probable, because there was a great cellar under the par- 
 liament-chamber, (as already mentioned,) never used for any thing but 
 wood or coal, belonging to Wineyard, the keeper of the palace ; and 
 having communicated the letter to the earls of Nottingham, Worces- 
 ter, and Northampton, they proceeded no farther till the king came 
 from Royston, on the 1st of November. 
 
 His majesty being shown the letter by the earls, who, at the same 
 time acquainted him with their suspicions, was of opinion that either 
 nothing should be done, or else enough to prevent the danger; and 
 that a search should be made on the day preceding that designed for 
 the execution of the diabolical enterprise. 
 
 Accordingly, on Monday, the 4th of November, in the afternoon, the 
 
GUNPOWDER PLOT. i 5I5 
 
 lord chamberlain, whose office it was to see all things put in readiness 
 for the king's coining, accompanied by Monteagle, went to visit all 
 places about the parliament-house, and taking a slight occasion to see 
 the cellar, observed only piles of billets and fagots, but in greater num- 
 ber than he thought Wineyard could want for his own use. On his 
 asking who owned the wood, and being told it belonged to one Mr. 
 Percy, he began to have some suspicions, knowing him to be a rigid 
 papist, and so seldom there, that he had no occasion for such a quan- 
 tity of fuel ; and Monteagle confirmed him therein, by observing that 
 Percy had made him great professions of friendship. 
 
 Though there were no other materials visible, yet Suffolk thought 
 it was necessary to make a farther search ; and, upon his return to 
 the king, a resolution was taken that it should be made in such a man- 
 ner as should be efiectual, without scandalizing any body, or giving 
 any alarm. 
 
 Sir Thomas Knevet, steward of Westminster, was accordingly or- 
 dered, under the pretext of searching for stolen tapestry hangings in 
 that place, and other houses thereabouts, to remove the wood, and see 
 if any thing was concealed underneath. This gentleman going at 
 midnight, with several attendants, to the cellar, met Fawkes, just com- 
 ing out of it, booted and spurred, with a tinder-box and three matches 
 in his pockets ; and seizing him without any ceremony, or asking him 
 any questions, as soon as the removal of the wood discovered the bar- 
 rels of gunpowder, he caused him to be bound, and properly secured. 
 
 Fawkes, who was a hardened and intrepid villain, made no hesitation 
 of avowing the design, and that it was to have been executed on the 
 morrow. He made the same acknowledgment at his examination be- 
 fore a committee of the council ; and though he did not deny having 
 some associates in this conspiracy, yet no threats of torture could make 
 him discover any of them, he declaring that " he was ready to die, and 
 had rather suffer ten thousand deaths, than willingly accuse his mas- 
 ter, or any other." 
 
 By repeated examinations, however, and assurances of his master's 
 being apprehended, he at length acknowledged, " that whilst he was 
 abroad, Percy had kept the keys of the cellar, had been in it since the 
 powder had been laid there, and, in effect, that he was one of the prin- 
 cipal actors in the intended tragedy." 
 
 In the mean time it was found out, that Percy had come post out 
 of the north on Saturday night, the 2d of November, and had dined 
 on Monday at Sion-House, with the earl of Northumberland ; that 
 Fawkes had met him on the road ; and that, after the lord chamber- 
 lain had been that evening in the cellar, he went, about six o'clock, ta 
 his master, who had fled immediately, apprehending the plot was de- 
 tected. 
 
 The news of the discovery immediately spreading, the conspirators 
 fled different ways, but chiefly into Warwickshire, where Sir Everard 
 Digby had appointed a hunting-match, near Dunchurch, to get a num- 
 ber of recusants together, sufficient to seize the princess Elizabeth ; but 
 this design was prevented by her taking refuge in Coventry ; and their 
 whole party, making about one hundred, retired to Holbeach, the seat 
 of Sir Stephen Littleton, on the borders of Staffordshire, having bro- 
 ken open stables, and taken horses from different people in the ad- 
 joining counties 
 
516 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 Sir Richard Walsh, high sheriff of Worcestershire, pursued them 
 to Holbeach, where he invested them, and summoned them to surren- 
 der. In preparing for their defence, they put some moist powder 
 before a fire to dry, and a spark from the coals setting it on fire, 
 some of the conspirators were so burned in their faces, thighs, and 
 arms, that they were scarcely able to handle their weapons. Their 
 case was desperate, and no means of escape appearing, unless by 
 forcing iheir way through the assailants, they made a furious sally for 
 that purpose. Catesby (who first proposed the manner of the plot) 
 and Percy were both killed. Thomas Winter, Grant, Digby, Rook- 
 wood, and Bates, were taken and carried to London, where the first 
 made a full discovery of the conspiracy. Tresham, lurking about 
 the city, and frequently shifting his quarters, was apprehended soon 
 after, and, having confessed the whole matter, died of the strangury, 
 in the tower. The earl of Northumberland, suspected on account of 
 his being related to Thomas Percy, was, by way of precaution, com- 
 mitted to the custody of the archbishop of Canterbury, at Lambeth ; 
 and was afterwards fined thirty thousand pounds, and sent to the 
 tower, for admitting Percy into the band of gentlemen pensioners, 
 without tendering him the oath of supremacy. 
 
 Some escaped to Calais, and arriving there with others who fled to 
 avoid a persecution which they apprehended on this occasion, were 
 kindly received by the governor ; but one of them declaring before 
 him, that he was not so much concerned at his exile, as that the pow- 
 der plot did not take effect, the governor was so much incensed at his 
 glorying in such an execrable piece of iniquity, that, in a sudden im- 
 pulse of indignation, he endeavoured to throw him into the sea. 
 
 On the 27th of January, 1606, eight of the conspirators were tried 
 and convicted ; among whom was Sir Everard Digby, the only one 
 that pleaded guilty to the indictment, though all the rest had confessed 
 their guilt before. Digby was executed on the 30th of the same 
 month, with Robert Winter, Grant, and Bates, at the west end of St. 
 Paul's church-yard ; Thomas Winter, Keyes, Rookwood, and Fawkes, 
 were executed the following day in Old Palace yard. 
 
 Garnet was tried on the 28th of March, " for his knowledge and 
 concealment of the conspiracy ; for administering an oath of secrecy 
 to the conspirators ; for persuading them of the lawfulness of the 
 treason, and for praying for the success of the great action in hand at 
 the beginning of the parliament." Being found guilty,* he received 
 sentence of death, but was not executed till the 3d of May, when, con- 
 fessing his own guilt, and the iniquity of the enterprise, he exhorted 
 all Roman Catholic^ io abstain from the like treasonable practices in 
 future. Gerard and Hull, two Jesuits, got abroad; and Littleton, 
 with several others, were executed in the country. 
 
 The Lord Monteagle had a grant of two hundred pounds a year iu 
 land, and a pension of five hundred pounds for life, as a reward foi 
 discovering the letter which gave the first hint of the conspiracy ; 
 and the anniversary of this providential deliverance was ordered tO" 
 be for ever commemorated by prayer and thanksgiving. 
 
 * Although Garnet was convicted of this horrible crime, yet the bigoted papists were 
 so besotted as to look upon him as an object of devotion ; they fancied that miracles 
 were wrought by Ms blood, and regarded him as a martyr ! Such is the deadening and 
 perverting mfiuence of popery! 
 
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 affair 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 faction. 
 
 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 
 establishment there till the reign of Henry VIII., when the rays of 
 the gospel began to dispel the darkness, and afford that light which 
 had till then been unknown in that island. The abject ignorance in 
 which the people were held, with the absurd and superstitious notions 
 they entertained, were sufficiently evident to many ; and the artifices 
 of their priests were so conspicuous, that several persons of distinction, 
 who had hitherto been strenuous papists, would willingly have endea- 
 voured 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, 1535. He 
 had formerly been an Augustine friar, and was promoted to the mitre 
 on account of his merit. 
 
 After having enjoyed 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 that time called hAghness, not majesty^ Mat presentl 
 
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 were 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 power in the 
 northern part cf 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 VIII. 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 which 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 follov/ing 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, that 
 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 iier, 
 father or mother, brother or sister, son or daughter, husband or wife, 
 uncle or aunt, nephew or niece, kinsman or kinswoman, master or 
 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. 519 
 
 any of her the mother of churches opposers or enemies, or contrary 
 to the same, of which I have here sworn unto : so God, the Blessed 
 Virgin, St. Peter, St. Paul, and the Holy Evangelists, help me, &.c." 
 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 kep-t with them ; that 
 they ought to be excommunicated and condemned, and their 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 Avho 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, Archljishop 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 sai'th, 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 what manner he should be farther disposed of. But order coming 
 over from England that he was to be hanged, he laid violent hands 
 on himself in the castle of Dublin. His body was afterwards carried 
 to Gallows-green, where, after being hanged up for some time, it was 
 interred. 
 
 After the accession of Edward VI. to the throne of England, an 
 order was directed to Sir Anthony Legef, 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, our 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 : 
 
620 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 In the 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, 
 which 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 
 are 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 vdth 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 protestant, and haviaig a brother in Dublin, named 
 John Edmunds, was greatly troubled at what she heard. But watch- 
 ing her opportunity, whilst 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 "^tows" 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, \vould have directly returned to England to get 
 another commission ; but \vaiting for a favourable wind, news arrived 
 
The Gunpoiodei^ Plot. page 515. 
 
 Cruelties in Ireland. page 518. 
 
 L^^^B 
 
 mi 
 
 ^^^J'^^^^^S^^^^^^t-'Sl 
 
 t%^"" ^^ 
 
 p^^^^^^^ 
 
 I'ii 
 
 1^^^^^^ 
 
 ^H 
 
 
 
 C-i-uelties in I? -eland. page 525. 
 
REFORMATION IN IRELAND. Q^ 
 
 that Queen Mary was dead, and Ify this means the protestants escaped 
 a most cruel persecution. The above relation as we before observed, 
 is confirmed by historians of the greatest credit, who add, that Queen 
 Elizabeth settled a pension of forty pounds per annum upon the above 
 mentioned Elizabeth Edmunds, for having thus saved the lives of her 
 protestant subjects. 
 
 During the 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 difference 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 protestants, 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 exei- 
 cised by the English govei-nors, was but little calculated to gain their 
 afl^ections. The Spaniards, too, by landing for'^ces 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 Ireland;''^ 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- 
 hood, ever restless and designing, sought to imdermine 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-justices of that kingdom, demanding the free ex- 
 ercise of their religion, and a repeal of aW laws to the contrary ; to 
 which both houses of parliament in England solemnly answered, that* 
 they would never grant any toleration to the popish religion in that 
 kingdom. 
 
 66 
 
022 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 This farther irritated the papists to put in execution the 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 the 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 0*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 plot discovered, even but a few 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 of 
 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 pierced 
 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 protectipn was implored and expected. Without 
 provocation, without opposition, the astonished English, living in pro- 
 found peace, and, as they thought, full security, were massacred by 
 their nearest neighbours, with whoi#they had long maintained a con- 
 
IRISH MASSACRE. 523 
 
 tinued intercourse of kindness and good offices. Nay, even death 
 was the slightest punishment inflicted by these monsters in human 
 form ; all the tortures which wanton cruelty could invent, all the lin- 
 gering pains of body, the anguish of mind, the agonies of despair, 
 could not satiate revenge excited without 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 Irfsh 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 gro"und. 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- 
 gab, who, upon the protestants quitting their holds, promised them 
 quarter, and to convey them safe over the Curlew mountains, to Ro& 
 
524 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 common. But he first imprisoned them in a most loathsome gaol, 
 allowing them only grains for their food. Afterwards, when some pa- 
 pists were merry over their cups, who were come to congratulate their 
 wicked brethren for their victory over these unhappy creatures, those 
 protestants who survived were brought forth by the white friars, and 
 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 w^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 
 Avho were inhumanly slaughtered at this time. 
 
 At Kilmore, Dr. Bedell, bishop of that see, had charitably settled 
 and supported a great number of distressed protestants, who had fled 
 from their habitations to escape the diabolical cruelties 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 afflicted 
 Avith 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 with 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 Avith difficulty obtained ; he, at first, telling them, 
 that the church-yard was holy ground, and should be no longer defiled 
 with heretics ] however, leare was at last granted, and though the 
 
IRISH MASSACRE. 525 
 
 church 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 i:iter- 
 ment, they discharged a volley of shot, crying out, Requiescat in pace 
 ultimus Anglorum : 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 ; the papists 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 the 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, cx>mpelled above 40 English protestants, some of whom were 
 women and children, to the hard fate either of falling by the sword, 
 or of drowning in the sea. These choosing the latter, were accord- 
 ingly forced, by the naked weapons of their inexorable persecutors, 
 into the deep, where, Avith their children in their arms, they first wa- 
 ded up to their chins, and afterwards sunk down and perished together. 
 
 In the castle of Lisgool 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, which 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, &c. 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 covild 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 
 pofets, 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 
 
626 IJOOK QP MARTYRS. 
 
 infants 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 oflspring 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 govei-nor, 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 wife 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 drown- 
 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, Avere 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 Avay. 
 Many of these poor creatures 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 them 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 spot, 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 •vv;hole country was one common scene of 
 
IRISH MASSACRE. 5^7 
 
 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 protestants 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 theiri 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 
 affliction 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 Avhich 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 protestants, 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 mnrdered 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 it to be devoured by dogs ; and when they had slain 
 a number of them, they would boast that the devil was beholden to 
 them for sending so many souls to hell ! 
 
 But it is no wonder 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, Avhere 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 wotnan 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 ko 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, after 
 stripping them naked, murdered them with stoneg, 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 Galway, 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, 
 ajid 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' 
 
..^:A< ^•. 
 
 Ml 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 ^:^^c^T^ 
 
 HSfCffJS >itr '/v«it* * 
 
 i^.^^pWi^^?';. 
 
 w'S^^S^J''^ 
 
 BffilS^Sifil^J 
 
 
 
 . ^ ZiS-^itm^^^^^^^-^ 
 
 Ct'velties in Ireland. page 529. 
 
 Murdey^ofSir C. Godfrey hy Jive Popish ruffians. P. 538. 
 
 Execution of Lord Wm. Russell. page 542. 
 
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 
 afterwards 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, women, and children, they cut and hacked in various parts of 
 their bodies, and left them wallowing iu 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 
 sufl^ered 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 from 
 the county of Armagh. 
 
 As the river Bann was not fordable, and the bridge broken down, 
 the Irish forced thither, at difierent 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 barbarities 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 wretches, flushed and grown insolent with suc- 
 cess, (though attained by methods attended with such excessive bar- 
 
 67 
 
330 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 difficulty, made themselves masters of Dundalk. 
 They afterwards took the town of Ardee, where they murdered all 
 the protestants, and then proceeded to Drogheda. The garrison of 
 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 
 few 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 suppressed 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 prote«tants. 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, macv, through mere hun- 
 ger and want, pined and languished away, or fet v?ead in the streets ; 
 and it is remarkable, that when their long expedited :*uccours arrived 
 from England, they were upon the point of oeing reduced to this 
 
SIEGE OF LONDONDERRY. 5S1 
 
 alternative, either to preserve their existence by eating each other, or 
 attempting to fight their way through the Irish, which must have in- 
 falhbly produced their destruction. 
 
 These succours were most happily brought by the ship Mountjoy, 
 of Derry, and the Phcenix, 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 31st 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 which 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, in 
 defiance of the laws, flocked into Ireland ; that several convents had 
 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, 
 that 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 th£ depredation 
 of their neighbours ; they who 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 popi«h 
 nobility and gentry of Ireland have renounced the Romish religion. 
 
 It is also to be hoped, that inestimable benefits will arise from the 
 establishment of protestant schools in various parts of the king- 
 
533 BOOK OF MAUTYRS. 
 
 dom, 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 them 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. 
 
 ACCOUNT 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 was not 
 productive of the consequences they hoped and wished for. A great 
 part of the city was, indeed destroyed ; the melancholy particulars of 
 which 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 and 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 fii^e seizing 
 
BURNING OF LONDON. 
 
 533 
 
 upon the timber and rubbish, and so continuing itself, even through 
 those spaces, and raging in a bright flantie 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 highnessf 
 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 hourly 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 on 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 bread 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 13,300 
 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 destruc" 
 
534 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 tlon 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 which, 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 agaitist. 
 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, of 
 restoring the city with more attention to uniformity, conveniency, 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 each 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 ihconveniencies 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 
 productive 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 disease had made great devastation among the inhabi- 
 tants, not only of the metropolis, but of diflTerent 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 this temporary calamity was 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 
 was 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. 5^5 
 
 It was designed by Sir Christopher Wren, by whom it was begun to 
 be erected in the year 1671, and thoroughly completed by that great 
 architect in 1677. It is esteemed the noblest modern column in the 
 world ; and may, in some respects, vie witli 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 Portland 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, commerce, &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 which 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"B. 
 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 erjdeavours 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 was set up contrary to Sir Christopher's opinion, 
 it was originally intended to place either a collosal statue, in brass, gilt, of king 
 Charles II., as founder of the new city, after the manner of the Roman pillars, which 
 were terminated by the statues of their Caesars ; or a figure erect of a woman crowned 
 with turrets, holding a sword and cap of maintenance, with ether ensigns of the city's 
 grandeur and re-erection. 
 
5S6 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. , 
 prastore Lond. 
 A. D. MDCLXXI. 
 M perducta altius 
 
 M" Geo. Waterman, Eq. P. V. 
 
 mv Roberto Hanson, Eq. P. V. 
 
 ^ Gulielmo Hooker, Eq. P. V. 
 
 Roberto Viner, Eq. P. V. 
 r 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 3d 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, being 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 bafiled 
 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 
 thus : 
 
 " 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-TUB PLOTS. ^>f 
 
 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, who 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 befnre-men'tioTied insr.riptions, 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 protestant 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 1666, 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 described. 
 
 * - 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 ta 
 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 off the king appeared to be only the project o-f a part of the 
 conspirators, to make way for the duke of York to ascend the throne, 
 
 t 
 
5$8 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 who was more forward, active, and less fearful than the king, 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. Omer'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 afiair 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 l^d 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 latter'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, confirmed 
 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, about 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 or 
 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 appeared, 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 by the rest, lest the blood should have discovered them. 
 But 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 TLOT. 539 
 
 chamber of Hill's, another of the murderers, who had been, or was, 
 Dr. Godwin's man, where 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, Avho 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 bgsought 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 Oates, 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 
 apprehended 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 
 Gifford, 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 Giflford, 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 powerful 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, appreheiisive 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 odiuim they had justly acquired, and to place it on the 
 presbyterians. 
 
 One Dangerfield, 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 II. 
 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 OP ESSEX. 54I 
 
 one thousand marks for each ; to be whipped, on two different days, 
 from Aldgate to Newgate, 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 PATRIOTS IN THE 
 REIGNS OF CHARLES II. AND JAMES II. ; WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE 
 BARBARITIES OF JEFFREYS IN THE WEST OF 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 him 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 plots and assassinations were 
 hatched up, 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 few of those trials. 
 
 Murder 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 
 the 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 Andover, 
 60 miles from London, on the llth of July, the first day of his im- 
 prisonment, and was told to 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 principal 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 was sworn 
 against him. His family was ancient, and early enemies to the Ro- 
 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 4,he 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 the tower, and brought to his trial 
 on the 13th of July, 1683, at the Old Bailey, for high treason. He 
 earnestly desired that he might have respite, and not be tried that day, 
 since be had some witnesses that could not be in town till the nighty 
 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 without the attorney 
 general's consent ; though it is notorious, that on several occasions it 
 had 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 ; which was also over-ruled and given against 
 him ; 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. That 
 he was sent with a letter from Lord Shaftesbury, who lay concealed 
 at Wapping, to meet Lord Russel, Ferguson, &c. at Shepherd's, to 
 know of them what resolution tliey were come to concerning the 
 rising designed at Taunton. That when he came thither, the answer 
 made was, 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 business, and this witness 
 not yet coming up to the purpose, they thought it conrenient 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 the 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 pF MARTYRS. 
 
 and Sir Thomas Armstrong having viewed them when be came thither 
 another time, said, they were remiss, and the thing was seizable, if 
 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 Jord 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 whether 
 Lord Russel said any thing, he answered, that every 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 west, 
 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 
 gives 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 
 
LORD "WILLIAM RUSSEL. 545 
 
 so far from consenting to afly such thing, that there was not so much 
 as any such undertaXing mentioned in the company while he was with 
 them ; especially when it is observable, that Rumsey 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, which, he says, he brought into the room, and found my Lord 
 Russel and the rest by the fire ; 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 he would swear 
 he never heard or knew of that message, which Rumsey says he 
 brought to them ; but also what he says in confirmation thereof in 
 his speech, " I solemnly aver, that what I said of my not hearing 
 Colonel Rumsey deliver any message from my Lord Shaftesbury, was 
 true." And a little before he says, " When I came into the room I 
 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 affecting Lord Russel. He can hardly tell whether he 
 was even there Avhen 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 
 Diagnatum, afiirm, 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 
 diflferent 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 Trenchard and 
 the west country failed them, on this it was put off again, and 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 Noveraber," far enough from the 
 17th or 18th of the month before. Rumsey says, " on this disap- 
 pointment of the Taunton men and Trenchard, Shaftesbury resolved 
 to be gone :" 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 
 effect, then Shaftesbury went off." 
 
546 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 As to that part of his evidence which was 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 Rum- 
 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 Taim- 
 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 repress 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, Avhat 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 v»^ith 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 mean a thought could enter into me, 
 as to go about to save my life by accusing x»thers. 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, which 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 avouM do business, and deserve to es- 
 cape hanging. 
 
 Nor indeed was the great witness. Lord Howard, so much as a 
 legal, any more than a credible witness. No man alive has any way 
 to clear himself from the most perjured villain's malice, if he swears 
 
LORD WILLIAM RUSSEL. $^ 
 
 against him point blank, but either by circumstance of time, or invali- 
 dating his very evidence. The first of these was precluded ; as 
 Rumsey and the rest came to no determinate time, but only about 
 such a time ; about the end of October, or beginning of November ; 
 and others 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 hedven, 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 shadoAV, no room left for his distinction be- 
 tween the insurrection and assassination ; but without 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 application 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 sufl^er." So that if he had the 
 same soul on Monday, that he had on Sunday, (the very day before,) 
 thilf could not be true that he swore against the Lord Russel. My lord 
 
548 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Russel's sufifering was imprisonment, and that for the same matted oil 
 which he was tried, the insurrection, not the assassination. If my 
 Lord Howard knew him guilty of that for which he was committed, 
 though not the othei-, 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, Cox, 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 ? 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 killiiig 
 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 1 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 and 
 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-, M'ith Dr. Tillotson and Dr. Burnet ; he was 
 carried to Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, to the scaffold 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 sheriff, 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 was so far from being any shout, that a heavy 
 groan was heard round the scaffold. 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 sufferers, in order of time, should 
 have been placed,first, they being convicted before my Lord Russel, 
 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 which 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 NeAvmarket, while 
 a blunderbuss was to be fired into the coach by Rumbald, or some 
 other. His privacy to discourses about the king's death 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 of 
 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's 
 guards, while others killed him, or to kill him with his own hands ? 
 
 West and Rumsey were 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 those of dying men, who could 
 expect no pardon in this world, nor in the other, for a falsehood. Be- 
 
550 BOOK OV MARTYRS. 
 
 side Rumbald's solemn protestation, Walcot, in his dying speech, as 
 deeply affirms, as a man can do, that " West bought arms for this yil- 
 lanous design, without any direction, knowledge, or privity of his." 
 West says, in his ansAver 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 was 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 blood." 
 
 In farther confirmation of this, Holloway says, " he could not per- 
 ceive'^that Ferguson knew any Ihing of the Newmarket design, but 
 Rumsey and West were deep in it." Again, having asked West who 
 was to act the assassination 1 "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 of 
 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," <fec. 
 
 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 meetings, where some things were discoursed of, in or- 
 der to the asserting our liberties and properties, which we looked 
 upon to be violated and invaded : That 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 withal earnestly 
 begged, that they might be observed, that remarks might be set upon 
 
WALCOT, HONE, AND ROUSE. 551 
 
 them, whether their end be peace ;" and he concluded, " 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. He 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 than 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, &c. 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 thither 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, 
 ndr 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 on 
 
552 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 the trial those very 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 tUem. 
 
 Execution of Mr. James Holloway. 
 
 Mr. Holloway was a merchant; but his greatest dealing lay in 
 linen manufacture, which, as appears from his papers, he had brought 
 to such a height in England, as, had it met with 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 of 
 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 with 
 "West, Rumsey, and the rest ; and having been really present at their 
 meetings and discourses on that subject, absconded 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 A'^essel, 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 31st 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 saying, " 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 
 he might try it if he would ; surely none but will believe this conspi- 
 racy now, after what this man has owned." ^ . 
 
EXECUTION OF JAMES HOLLOWAY. 553 
 
 • So thei^e was an end of all the mercy. A man who had 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 the repute of 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 what should those reasons be but threatenings 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. A 
 
 But if he made so fair and large an acknowledgment, it will be 
 asked, why was his life not spared ? But this may be easily answei*- 
 ed : He was a little teiider-conscienced, and would 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, sufl'ered death. r 
 
 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 ofi" the king's friends, and the 
 active men in both the last parliaments ; that they long had witnesses 
 to swear them out of their lives, but no juries to believe them ; that 
 now the point ^ oout the sheriffs was gained, that difficulty 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 offenders 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 his enemies froi i his friends, whom he had 
 cause to look for nearer home." Wds a man to expect pardon after 
 this? No, certainly, which he sorn grew sensible of, and prepared 
 for death ; " the council," he say^, " taking it very heinously that he 
 should presume to write such tilings." 
 
 Mr, Holloway farther declared that Mr. West proposed the assas- 
 sination, but none seconded him ; that he could not perceive that. "^t. 
 
 ■ 70 
 
554 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 Ferguson knew any thing of it ; and he said, " It was our design 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 Ron 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. VI. wherein it is provided, That if a 
 person outlawed render himself within a year 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 favour, because he was one of the 
 persons that actually engaged to go, on the king's hasty coming from 
 Newmarket, and destroy him by the way as he came to town ; which 
 appears upon as full and clear an evidence, und as; positively tesiilied 
 
EXECUTION OP 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 o-nly 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 Jeffreys 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, I 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, after 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 a 
 protestant is to expect for having obliged a true papist. 
 
 Another thing worth remembering is, that whereas in Holloway's 
 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, that 
 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 any 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 me." 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 wished he had more strictly 
 lived up to the religion he believed. And though he had but a short 
 time, he found himself prepared for death ; and at the place of execu- 
 tion he conducted himself with the courage 1 iccoming a great man, and 
 with the seriousness and piety suitable to a good Christian. 
 
 Sheriff Daniel told him, he had leave to say what he pleased, and 
 should not be interrupted, unless he upbrg ided the government ; Sir 
 
550 BOOK pF MARTYRS, 
 
 Thomas thereupon told him that he should not say any thing by way 
 <)f speech, but delivered him a paper, which he said contained his 
 mi^d, 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 offered 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 the king ; whereas he took God to witness, that he never had a 
 thought to 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 false ; he concluded, that 
 he had lived, and now died of the reformed religion, a protestant in the 
 communion of the churcli of England, and he heartily wished he had 
 lived more strictly up 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 cheerfully 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 Alderman Cornish, and Mr. Bateman, suffered after the 
 duke of Monmouth, and his adherents, yet, as they were sacrificed 
 under the pretence that they had been concerned in the same plot as 
 -iiord 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 Avas seized in October, 1685 ; 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, &c. 
 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 had left it to the 
 judges whether it should be put off or no. But it was denied him, 
 the attorney-general telling him, " He had not deserved so well ol 
 the o-overnment as to have his tiial delayed." That was, in plain 
 English, because he had been a protestant sheriff, he should not have 
 justice. 
 
ALDERMAN CORNISH 557 
 
 The witnesses agaftist him were Rumsey and Goodenoiigh. Rum- 
 sey swore, that when he was at the meeting at Mr. Shepherd's, Mr. 
 Shepherd being called down, brought up Mr. Cornish ; and when he 
 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 ; that Mr. Cornish 
 liked it, and said, what interest he had, he would join with it ; and that 
 it was merely from 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 that effect. 
 
 To Goodenough's evidence was opposed Mr. Gospright's, who tes- 
 tified that Mr. Cornish opposed Goodenough's being made under she- 
 riff, saying, that he was an ill man, obnoxious to the government, and 
 he 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- 
 
 Kossible to look into the trial without meeting it. If we compare what 
 e 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 were 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 man 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 hinder 
 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 OP MARTVRa 
 
 Cornish on his trial is said to have denied his being at the meeting, 
 and discoursing with the duke of Monmouth ; which they would have 
 us believe Shepherd swears he was, though not a syllable of it ap- 
 pears. He had been there sevei-al times, Shepherd says, but was not 
 of their 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 with which a 
 Christian can die, even when his death is what the world considers 
 ignominious. 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 ?" 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 huth made me fit to die. 
 I am now going to that God that will not be mocked, to that God that 
 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 we 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 few 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 wdth 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 his ex- 
 aninle from appearing vigorously in the discharge of his duty for hi« 
 
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 sufficiently made it up 
 in solemn asseverations thereof on the scaffold : " God is my wit- 
 ness," said he, " the crimes laid to my charge were falsely and mali- 
 ciously sworn against me by the witnesses ; for I 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 suffer, upon the 
 words of a dying man, I am altogether innocent. I 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 against the government, and particularly that for which he died. 
 
 His quarters were set up on Guildhall, in terrorem, and for the same 
 reason no doubt, before mentioned for which he was executed so 
 near it. 
 
 TVial and Execution of Mr. Charles Bateman. 
 
 The last who suffered for this pretended plot was Mr. Bateman, a 
 surgeon, a man of good sense, courage, and generous temper, of con- 
 siderable repute and practice in his calling ; a great lover and vindi- 
 -cator of the liberties of his coimtry, 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 his accusers with infamy, and have shown his 
 own innocence ; but being kept close prisoner in Newgate, in a dark 
 and loathsome dungeon, with 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 was 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 
 him. But had not the mistaken piety of his son 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 1683, and would have had him in- 
 sinuate himself into Bateman's company, and discourse about state 
 affairs to trepan him, for which service he should be amply rewarded." 
 
 It was 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 insufficient 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 time, the pious, reverend, and learned Mr. 
 Johnson was severely punished, for the heinous crimes of being my 
 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 were 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 Aldgate 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 Insurrectioji, 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 whoiA 
 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 11. 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, 1685, 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 Argyleshire, where 
 he found the militia prepared to oppose him. But being immediately 
 
 J 
 
MONMOUTH AND ARGYLE. 561 
 
 joined by his brave vassals and faithful partizans, he penetrated into 
 the western counties, hoping to be joined by the disaffected 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 for 
 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 had been for- 
 merly pronounced on him. At his death he discovered all that he- 
 roic firmness which he 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 woman, 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 
 hirti 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 freely 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 undertaking, 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 toAver, from whence 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, and drove them from the field, a want of ammunition prevented 
 them from 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 James, 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 of 
 so much infamy. Finding all efforts to excite compassion in the 
 
 71 
 
562 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 breast of the inexorable James fruitless, he prepared himself for death 
 with a spirit becoming his rank and character ; and on the 15th ol 
 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 wTiich 
 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 incapable of completing 
 the bloody task. The sheriff, however, obliged him 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 ojder to 
 advance the glory of Him, whose weapons are not carnal, but spi- 
 ritual, we must not refuse to enrol their names 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 Feversham, immediately 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 soldier of fortune, who had long served at Tan- 
 
 fiers, and had contracted, from his intercourse with the Moors, an in- 
 umanity 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 Jeflreys. 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, SG$ 
 
 sound. By way of experiment, he ordered one man to be hung up 
 three times, 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 inno- 
 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 Jeffreys 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 
 tried, 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 ijie 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 Jefireys. 
 
 Of all the executions during this dismal period, the most remarkable 
 were those of Mrs. Gaunt, and Lady Lisle, who had been accused of 
 
564 BOOK OP MARTk'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 humane 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 authority under Cromwell, who, 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 Jeffreys 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 embraced, 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 Avere 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 once 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 
 take what way he sees best to glorify himself in and by his poor 
 creatures ; and I do humbly desire to submit to his will, praying to 
 
MRB. GAUNT.— LADY LISLE. 505 
 
 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 affected me. I have no 
 excuse but surprise and fear, which I believe my jury must make use 
 of to excuse their verdict to the 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, as I have 
 been informed, is usual in such cases. However, I forgive all the 
 world, and therein all those 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 undej* 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 which 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 whole, or even a tenth part of them ; but an 
 unvarying recital of cruelties is tedious and disgusting, however true ; 
 and we therefore pass on to other matters ; merely observing, thatlbe- 
 side those who were hanged, great number? were severely whipped, 
 and imprisoned ; and almost every gentleman in that part of the coun- 
 try was subjected to enormous fines, to hesitate about the payment of 
 which was construed into high treason ; even those who received his 
 majesty's gracious pardon, were compelled to purchase it by bribing 
 the co'jr'.. 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 
 
566 BOOK OP 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 which 
 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 Assassmation 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 wore 
 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 was 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 of 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 intended 
 invasion, but also of the conspiracy against his person. 
 
 The principal persons in England concerned in ^e plot for assas- 
 sinating the king, were the following : the earl of Aylesbury, Lord 
 Montgomery, son to the marquis of Powis, Sir' John Fenwick, Sir 
 William Perkins, Sir John Friend, Captain Charnock, Captain Porter, 
 and Mr. Goodman. 
 
 The duke of Berwick (an illegitimate son of James 11.) had come 
 
ASSASSINATION PLOT. g67 
 
 privately over to England, in the beginning of February, in order to 
 hasten 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 imported 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 propH 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 of 
 the guards, who were obliged to wait on the Surry side till the boat 
 returned to carry them over. So that the king must inevitably have 
 fallen into the hands of the conspirators, before the rest of his guards 
 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 the 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 conspirators should 
 form one body, and continue their route to Hammersmith, and there 
 divide themselves into small parties of three 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 
 justice. Sir George Berkeley complaining that the money he had 
 
563 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 brought over with him was so nearly exhausted, that the remamder 
 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 his majesty being indisposed, did not go abroad that day 
 This trivial circumstance struck the assassins with dismay. They 
 immediately concluded that the conspiracy was discovered ; but find 
 ing that all remained quiet, they again met, and agreed to be in readi- 
 ness on the Saturday following. Just as they were setting out, they 
 received intelligence from Chambers and Durant, two of their accom- 
 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. Pendergrasa 
 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 as 
 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 24th of February, the king went to the house 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 his 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 particular 
 form, but in the same spirit, which was subscribed to by the greater 
 part of the clergy. 
 
 On the 11th of March, Robert Charnock, Edv/ard King, and Thomas 
 Keys, three of the conspirators, were brought to their trials at the Old 
 
ATTERBITRY»S PLOT. f|69 
 
 Bailey. I'he court fiidulged them with all the liberty they could de- 
 sire to make their defence ; notwithstanding which, they were, upon 
 the fullest and plainest evidence, found guilty of high treason ; and 
 sentence being passed upon them, they were, on the 18th of March, 
 hanged and quartered at Tyburn. Their execution was followed by 
 that of several others of the conspirators ; a proclamation was issued 
 for apprehending Lord Montgomery, and Sir John Fenwick, suspected 
 to be accomplices in the plot, and the earl of Aylesbury was commit- 
 ted to the tower on the same suspicion. 
 
 The case of Sir John Fenwick was, some time after, brought into 
 the house of commons, where, though his guilt was thoroughly proved, 
 he could not be convicted by the common law, on account of one posi- 
 tive evidence only appearing against him ; a bill of attainder was, 
 therefore, after some debates, passed by both houses ; and, on the 28th 
 of March, he was beheaded on Tower-hill. 
 
 Thus was this horrid conspiracy happily frustrated, and the authors 
 of it brought to that condign punishment which their infamy merited. 
 The king's life was the security of his subjects, who heartily rejoiced, 
 as they had reason to do, in being thereby preserved from the mise- 
 ries of popery and arbitrary government. 
 
 Rebellions and Plots in the Reigns of Anne, George I. and II. 
 
 During the three reigns above named, the papists anxiously sought 
 occasion to disturb the government, and to excite the religious and 
 political prejudices of the people against their sovereigns. In each 
 of these reigns rebellions were raised, which, however, led only to 
 the ruin and death of the conspirators, and strengthened, instead of 
 weakening, the attachment of the British nation to a line of monarchs 
 under whom they enjoyed the blessings of civil and religious liberty. 
 The pai'ticulars of these attempts are so well known, or may so easily 
 be learned, that it is quite unnecessary to occupy our pages with the 
 detail ; we shall, however, give the particulars of a plot in the year 
 1722, which, although equally atrocious, readers are not generally so 
 well acquainted with. 
 
 Atterhury's Plot. 
 
 In the year 1722, advice was received from the duke of Orleans, of 
 a most treacherous conspiracy carried on against the British govern- 
 ment in favour of the pretender. On this intelligence a camp was 
 formed in Hyde-Park, and the military officers were ordered to repair 
 to their respective commands ; some troops were called over from Ire- 
 land, and the Dutch states were desired to keep in readiness the gua- 
 rantee troops, in order to be sent to England in case of emergency. 
 
 The conspirators had, by their emissaries, made the strongest soli- 
 citations to foreign powers for assistance, but were disappointed in 
 their expectations ; notwithstanding which, confiding in their num- 
 bers, they resolved to trust to their own strength, and to attempt the 
 subversion of the government. But their intentions being timely dis- 
 covered, their scheme was rendered abortive. 
 
 Several persons were apprehended as parties in this plot. The 
 earl of Orrery, the bishop of Rochester, and the lords North and Grey, 
 were committed to the tower for high treason ; and the duke of Nor- 
 folk, who had been seized by his majesty's order, was, with the con* 
 sent of the house of peers, sent to the same prison. 
 
 72 
 
570 BOOK OP MARTYR& 
 
 Christopher Layer, Esq. a counsellor, who had been also appre- 
 hended on account of this conspiracy, was tried at the King's Bench, 
 Westminster, on the 21st of November. His indictment set forth, 
 " that he had been employed in forming a most traitorous, horrid plot 
 and conspiracy against his majesty and his government, by enlisting 
 men for the Pretender's service, in order to stir up a rebellion ; and 
 also that he had held a correspondence with the Pretender, by carry- 
 ing letters and treasonable papers to him beyond the seas, and from 
 him to the disaffected in this kingdom." After a trial which lasted 
 seventeen hours, the jury brought him in guilty, and he received sen- 
 tence of death. He was reprieved from time to time, in the hope of 
 his making discoveries, but he either could not, or would not, satisfy 
 these expectations : he was, therefore, on the 17th of May, 1723, 
 drawn on a sledge to Tyburn, and there hanged and quartered, pur- 
 suant to his sentence ; after which his head was cut off, and fixed on 
 Temple Bar. 
 
 This conspiracy was so artfully carried on under fictitious names, 
 that it required the greatest application to come to the true knowledge 
 of some of the persons concerned. The committee which had been 
 appointed by the house of commons, to examine the papers relative 
 to the conspiracy, delivered it as their opinion, " that a design had 
 long been carried on by persons of distinction abroad, for placing the 
 Pretender on the throne of these kingdoms : that various methods had 
 been attempted, and different times fixed, for carrying their designs 
 into execution : that the first intention was to have procured a regular 
 body of foreign forces to invade these kingdoms, at the time of the late 
 elections ; but that the conspirators being disappointed in this expec- 
 tation, they resolved next, to make an attempt at the time his majesty 
 intended to go to Hanover, by the help of such forces and soldiers 
 as could pass into England unobserved from abroad, under the com- 
 mand of the duke of Ormond, who was to have landed in the river with 
 a great quantity of arms provided in Spain for that purpose, at which 
 time the tower was likewise to have been seized, and the city of Lon- 
 don to have been made a place of arms ; but this design being also 
 prevented by the discoveries made in England, and his majesty's put- 
 ting off his journey ; by the encampment of the forces at home, as 
 well as the sending for those from Ireland ; by the readiness of his ma- 
 jesty's good allies, the Stages-General, to assist him in case of neces- 
 sity ; by the orders given in Spain, that the duke of Ormond should 
 not embark ; and the like orders issued in France, that he should not 
 be suflered to pass through that kingdom; the conspirators found them- 
 selves under the necessity of deferring their enterprise till the break- 
 ing up of the camp, during v/hich interval they were labouring, by 
 their agents and emissaries, to corrupt and seduce the officers and sol- 
 diers of his majesty's army ; and so much did they depend on this de- 
 fection, as to entertain hopes of placing the Pretender on the throne, 
 though they should not obtain any assistance from abroad, which ne- 
 vertheless they still continued to solicit." 
 
 The house of commons, after a mature deliberation of the whole 
 matter, brought in three several bills to inflict pains and penalties on 
 Atterbury, bishop of Rochester, John Plunket, and George Kelly, as 
 being principally concerned in this diabolical plot ; which bills passed 
 both houses, and received the royal assent. The bishop was deprived 
 
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 182a 571 
 
 of his office and benefice, banished the kingdom, and pronounced 
 guilty of felony if he returned ; the power of pardoning him was de- 
 nied to the king, without the consent of parliament ; but he was not 
 to forfeit his goods and chattels. Plunket and Kelly were to be kept 
 in close custody, during his majesty's pleasure, in any prison in Great 
 Britain ; and they were not to attempt an escape on pain of death, to 
 be inflicted on them and their assistants. 
 
 The duke of Norfolk, the Lord North and Grey, Dennis Kelly, and 
 Thomas Cochran, Esqrs. who had been confined in the tower, were 
 admitted to hail ; as was also David du Boyce, confined in Newgate on 
 the same account. A man of war was appointed to convey (he bishop 
 of Rochester to France, the place he had chosen for his asylum du- 
 ring his exile ; and the royal pardon was granted to Lord Bolingbroke, 
 who owed that indulgence to the earnest solicitation of Lord Har- 
 court, though it was vehemently opposed at the council board. 
 
 Thus did this conspiracy, like the former, fall to the ground ; and, 
 excepting the attempt made in the succeeding reign, to overthrow the 
 government, by placing the Pretender on the throne, and thereby again 
 to establish popery, no other avowed efibrt has since been made ; and 
 the protestant subjects of this realm have been, and it is hoped ever 
 will be, in an uninterrupted enjoyment of those religious principles 
 which are consistent with, and conformable to, the true gospel of the 
 Redeemer of mankind. 
 
 SECTION vn. 
 
 OF THE PERSECUTIONS OF THE FRENCH PROTESTANTS IN THE SOTTTH 
 OF FRANCE DURING THE YEARS 1814 AND 1820. 
 
 The persecution of this protestant part of France had continued 
 with very little intermission from the revocation of the edict of Nantes, 
 by Louis XIV. till a very short period previous to the commencement 
 of the late French revolution. ^ In the year 1785, M. Rebaut St. Eti- 
 enne and the celebrated M. de' la Fayette were among the first per- 
 sons who interested themselves with the court of Louis XVI., in re- 
 moving the scourge of persecution from this injured people, the in- 
 habitants of the south of France. 
 
 Such was the opposition on the part of the catholics and the cour- 
 tiers, that it was not till the end of the year 1790, that the protestants 
 were freed from their alarms. Previously to this, the catholics at Nis- 
 mes in particular, had taken up arms ; Nismes then presented a fright- 
 ful spectacle ; armed men ran thrc ti igh the city, fired from the corners 
 of the streets, and attacked all they met with swords and forks. A 
 man named Astuc was wounded and thrown into the aqueduct; 
 Baudon fell under the repeated strokes of bayonets and sabres, and 
 his body was also thrown into the water ; Boucher, a young man 
 only 17 years of age, Avas shot as he was looking out of his window ; 
 three electors wounded, one dangerously ; another elector wounded, 
 only escaped death by repeatedly declaring he was a catholic ; a 
 third received four sabre wounds, and was taken home dreadfully 
 mangled. The citizens that fled were arrested by the catholics upon 
 
57a BOOK P^F MARTYR^ 
 
 the roadg, and obliged to give proofs of their religion beforfe their 
 lives were granted. M. and Madame Vogue, were at their country 
 house, which the zealots broke open, where they massacred both, and 
 destroyed their dwelling. M. Blacher, a protestant seventy years of 
 age, was cut to pieces with a sickle ; young Pyerre, carrying some 
 food to his brother, was asked, " Catholic or protestant ?" " Protes- 
 tant," being the reply, a monster fired at the lad, and he fell. One of 
 the murderer's companions said, " you might as well have killed a 
 Iamb ;" " I have sworn," replied he, " to kill four protestants for my 
 share, and this will count for one." However, as these atrocities pro- 
 voked the troops to unite in defence of the people, a terrible ven- 
 geance was retaliated upon the catholic party that had used arms, 
 which, with other circumstances, especially the toleration exercised 
 by Napoleon Buonaparte, kept them down completely till the year 
 1814, when the unexpected return of the ancient government rallied 
 them all once more round the old banners. 
 
 The arrival of King Louis XVIII. at Paris. 
 
 This was known at Nismes on the 13th of April, 1814. In a quar- 
 ter of an hour, the white cockade was seen in every direction, the 
 white flag floated on the public buildings, on the splendid monuments 
 of antiquity, and even on the tower of Magne, beyond the city walls. 
 The protestants, whose commerce had suffered materially during the 
 war, were among the first to unite in the general joy, and to send in 
 their adhesion to the senate, and the legislative body ; and several of 
 the protestant departments sent addresses to the throne ; but unfor- 
 tunately, M. Froment was again at Nismes at the moment ; when 
 many bigots being ready to join him, the blindness and fury of the 
 sixteenth century rapidly succeeded the intelligence and philanthropy 
 of the nineteenth. A line of distinction was instantly traced between 
 men of different religious opinions ; the spirit of the old catholic 
 church was again to regulate each person's share of esteem and 
 safety. The difference of religion was now to govern every thing 
 else ; and even catholic domestics who had served protestants with 
 zeal and affection, began to neglect their duties, or to perform them 
 ungraciously, and with reluctance. At the fetes and spectacles that 
 were given at the public expense, the absence of the protestants was 
 charged on them as a proof of their disloyalty ; and in the midst of 
 the cries of " Vive le Roi," the discordant sounds of " A has le 
 Maire,^^ down with the mayor, were heard. M. Castelan was a pro- 
 testant ; he appeared in public with the prefect M. Roland, a catho- 
 lic, when potatoes were thrown at him, and the people declared that 
 he ought to resign his office. The bigots of Nismes even succeeded 
 in procuring an address to be presented to the king, stating that there 
 'ought to be in France but one God, one king, and one faith. In this 
 they were imitated by the catholics of several towns. 
 The History of the Silver Child. 
 
 About this time, M. Baron, counsellor of the Cour Royale of Nis- 
 mes, formed the plan of dedicating to God a silver child, if the Dutchess 
 d'Angouleme would give a prince to France. This project was 
 converted into a public religious vow, which was the subject of con- 
 versation both in public and private, whilst persons, whose imagina- 
 tions were inflamed by these proceedings, run about the streets crying, 
 
NAPOLEON'9 RETURN FROM ELBA, 573 
 
 Vivent les Bourbons, or the Bourbons for ever. In consequence of this 
 superstitious frenzy, it is said that, at Alais, women were advised and 
 instigated to poison their protestant husbands, and at length it was 
 found convenient to accuse them of political crimes. They could 
 no longer appear in pliblic without insults and injuries. When the 
 mobs met with protestants, they seized them, and danced round them 
 with barbarous joy, and amidst repeated cries of Vive le Roi, they 
 sung verses, the burden of which was, " "We will wash our hands in 
 protestant blood, and make black puddings of the blood of Calvin's 
 children." The citizens who came to the promenades for air and 
 refreshment, from the close and dirty streets, were chased with shouts 
 of Vive le Roi, as if those shouts were to justify every excess. If 
 protestants referred to the charter, they were directly assured it 
 would be of no use to them, and that they had only been managed to 
 be more effectually destroyed. Persons of rank were heard to say 
 in the public streets, " All the Huguenots must be killed ; this time 
 their children must be killed, that none of the accursed race may re- 
 main." Still it is true they were not murdered, but cruelly treated ; 
 protestant children could no longer mix in the sports of catholics, 
 and were not even permitted to appear without their parents. At 
 dark their families shut themselves up in their apartments ; but even 
 then stones were thrown against their windows. When they arose 
 in the morning, it was not uncommon to find gibbets drawn on their 
 doors or walls ; and in the streets the catholics held cords already 
 soaped before their eyes, and pointed out the instruments by which 
 they hoped and designed to exterminate them. Small gallows or 
 models were handed about, and a man who lived opposite to one of 
 the pastors, exhibited one of these models in his window, and made 
 signs sufficiently intelligible when the minister passed. A figure re- 
 presenting a protestant preacher was also hung up on a public cross- 
 way, and the most atrocious songs were sung under his window. 
 Towards the conclusion of the carnival, a plan had even been form- 
 ed to make a caricature of the four ministers of the place, and burn 
 them in effigy ; but this was prevented by the mayor of Nismes, a 
 protestant. A dreadful song presented to the prefect, in the country 
 dialect, with a false translation, was printed by his approval, and had 
 a great run before he saw the extent of the error into which he had 
 been betrayed. The sixty-third regiment of the line was publicly 
 censured and insulted, for having, according to order, protected pro- 
 testants. In fact, the protestants seemed to be as sheep destined for 
 the slaughter. 
 
 Napoleon's Return from the Isle, of Elba. 
 
 Soon after this event, the Duke d'Angouleme was at Nismes, and 
 remained there some time ; but even his influence was insufficient io 
 bring about a reconciliation between the catholics and the protestants 
 of that city. During the hundred days betwixt Napoleon's return 
 from the Isle of Elba, and his final downfall, not a single life was lost 
 in Nismes, not a single house was pillaged ; only four of the most 
 notorious disturbers of the peace were punished, or rather prevented 
 from doing mischief; and even this was not an act of the protestants, 
 but the arrete of the catholic prefect, announced every where with 
 the utmost publicity. Some time after, when M. Baron, who proposed 
 
374 BOOK OF MARTYRS. 
 
 the vow of the silver child in favour of the Dutchess d'Angouleme, 
 who was considered as the chief of the catholic royalists, was disco- 
 vt led at the bottom of an old wine tun, the populace threw stones at 
 his carriage, and vented their feelings in abusive language. The 
 protestant officers protected him from injury. 
 
 Tlie Catholic arms at Beaucaire. 
 In May, 1815, a federative association, similar to those of Lyons, 
 Grenoble, Paris, Avignon, and Montpellier, was desired by many per- 
 sons at Nisraes ; but this federation terminated here after an ephe- 
 meral and illusory existence of fourteen days. In the mean while a 
 large party of catholic zealots were in arms at Beaucaire, and who 
 soon pushed their patroles so near the walls of Nismes, " as to alarm 
 the inhabitants." These catholics applied to the English off Mar- 
 seilles for assistance, and obtained the grant of 1000 muskets, 10,000 
 cartouches, &c. General Gilly, however, was soon sent against 
 these partizans, who prevented them from coming to extremes, by 
 granting them an armistice ; and yet when Louis XVIII. had returned 
 to Paris, after the expiration of Napoleon's reign of a hundred days, 
 and peace and party spirit seemed to have been subdued, even at 
 Nismes, bands from Beaucaire joined Trestaillon in this city, to glut 
 the vengeance they had so long premeditated. General Gilly had left 
 the department several days : the troops of the line left behind had 
 taken the white cockade, and waited farther orders, whilst the royal 
 commissioners had only to proclaim the cessation of hostilities, and 
 the complete establishment of the king's authority. In vain, no com- 
 missioners appeared, no despatches arrived to calm and regulate the 
 public mind ; but toAvards evening the advanced guard of the ban- 
 ditti, to the amount of several hundreds, entered the city, undesired 
 but imopposed. As they marched without order or discipline, co- 
 vered with clothes or rags of all colours, decorated with cockades, 
 not ^oh^te, hut white and green, armed with muskets, sabres, forks, pis- 
 tols, and reaping hooks, intoxicated with wine, and stained with the 
 blood of the protestants whom they had murdered on their route, they 
 presented a most hideous and appalling spectacle. In the open place 
 in the front of the barracks, this banditti was joined by the city armed 
 mob, headed by Jacques Dupont, commonly called Trestaillon. To 
 save the effusion of blood, this garrison of about 500 men consented 
 to capitulate, and marched out sad and defenceless ; but when about 
 fifty had passed, the rabble commenced a tremendous fire on their 
 confiding and unprotected victims ; nearly all were killed or wounded, 
 and but very few could re-enter the yard before the garrison gates 
 were again closed. These were again forced in an instant, and all 
 were massacred who could not climb over roofs, or leap into the ad- 
 joining gardens. In a word, death met them in every place and in 
 every shape, and this catholic massacre rivalled in cruelty, and sur- 
 passed in treachery, the crimes of the September assassins of Paris, 
 and the Jacobinical butcheries of Lyons and Avignon. It was marked, 
 not only by the fervour of the I'evolution, but by the subtlety of the 
 league, and will long remain a blot upon the history of the second 
 restoration. 
 
 Massacre and Pillage at Nismes. 
 Nismes now exhibited a most awful scene of outrage and carnage. 
 
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820. 575 
 
 though many of the protestants had fled to the Cevennes and the Gar- 
 donenque. The country houses of Messrs. Rey, Guiret, and several 
 others, had been pillaged, and the inhabitants treated with wanton bar- 
 barity. Two parties had glutted their savage appetites on the farm of 
 Madame Frat : the first, after eating, drinking, breaking the furni- 
 ture, and stealing what they thought proper, took leave by announ- 
 cing the arrival of their comrades, "compared with whom," they said, 
 " they should be thought merciful." Three men and an old woman 
 were left on the premises : at the sight of the second company two of 
 the men fled. "Are you a catholic?" said the banditti to the old wo- 
 man. "Yes." " Repeat, then, your Pater and Ave." Being terrified, 
 she hesitated, and was instantly knocked down with a musket. On 
 recovering her senses she stole out of the house, but met Ladet, the- 
 old valet deferme, bringing in a salad which the depredators had or- 
 dered him to cut. In vain she endeavoured to persuade him to fly. 
 " Are you a protestant ?" they exclaimed ; " I am." A musket being 
 discharged at him, he fell wounded, but not dead. To consummate 
 their work, the monsters lighted a fire with straw and boards, threw 
 their yet living victim into the flames, and suffered him to expire in 
 the most dreadful agonies. They then ate their salad, omelet, &.c. 
 The jiext day some laboiirers, seeing the house open and deserted, 
 entered, and discovered the half consumed body of Ladet. The pre- 
 fect of the Gard, M. Darbaud Jouques, attempting to palliate the crimes 
 of the catholics, had the audacity to assert that Ladet was a catholic ; 
 but this was publicly contradicted by two of the pastors at Nismes. 
 
 Another party committed a dreadful murder at St. Cezaire, upon 
 Imbert La Plume, the husband of Suzon Chivas. He was met on re- 
 turning from work in the fields. The chief promised him his life, but 
 insisted that he must be conducted to the prison at Nismes. Seeing, 
 however, that the party was determined to kill him, he resumed his 
 natural character, and being a powerful and courageous mau, ad- 
 vanced, and exclaimed, " You are brigands — fire !" Four of them 
 fired, and he fell, but he was not dead ; and while living they muti- 
 lated his body, and then passing a cord round it, drew it along, at- 
 tached to a cannon of which they had possession. It was not till after 
 eight days that his relatives were apprized of his death. Five indi- 
 viduals of the family of Chivas, all husbands and fathers, were mas- 
 sacred in the coui-se of a few days. 
 
 Near the barracks at Nismes is a large and handsome house, the 
 property of M. Vitte, which he acquired by exertion and economy. 
 Besides comfortable lodgings for his own family, he let more than 
 twenty chambers, mostly occupied by superior officers and commissa- 
 ries of the army. He never inquired the opinion of his tenants, and 
 of course his guests were persons of all political parties ; but, under 
 pretence of searching for concealed officers, l»is apartments were 
 overrun, his furniture bro>^"- ^'^^ ^^^ property carried off at pleasure. 
 The houses of ^ST^l.^^l"^^^, "^o^t respectable merchants and 
 manufacturers, F .^"5^t"' ^' ^^g^e, and others, shared the same 
 fate : many ^l I'^l^^'^ ^^ *^^ owners paying large sums as com- 
 mutations "*^5^' °^ escapmg mto the country with their cash. 
 
 Interference of Government against the Protestants. 
 
 ^<i- Bernis. extraordinary royal commissioner, in consequence of 
 
576 SOOK QF MARTYRS. 
 
 these abuses, issued a proclamation which reflects disgrace oti the au- 
 thority from whence it emanated. " Considering," it said, " that the 
 residence of citizens in places foreign to their domicil, can only be 
 prejudicial to the communes they have left, and to those to which they 
 have repaired, it is ordered, that those inhabitants who have quitted 
 their residence since the commencement of July, return home by the 
 28th at the latest, otherwise they shall be deemed accomplices of the 
 evil-disposed persons who disturb the'public tranquillity, and their pro- 
 perty shall be placed under provisional sequestration." 
 
 The fugitives had sufficient inducements to return to their hearths, 
 without the fear of sequestration. They were more ajixious to em- 
 brace their fathers, mothers, wives, and children, and to resume their 
 ordinary occupations, than M. Bernis could be to ensure their return. 
 But thus denouncing men as criminals, who fled for safety from the 
 sabres of assassins, was adding oil to the fire of persecution. Tres- 
 taillon, one of the chiefs of the brigands, was dressed in complete 
 uniform and epaulettes which he had stolen ; he wore a sabre at his 
 side, pistols in his belt, a cockade of white and green, and a sash of 
 the same colours on his arm. He had under him, Truphemy, Servan, 
 Aime, and many other desperate characters. Some time after this, 
 M. Bernis ordered all parties and individuals, armed or unarmed, to 
 abstain from searching houses without either an order, or the presence 
 of an officer. On suspicion of arms being concealed, the command- 
 ant of the town was ordered to furnish a patrol to make search and 
 seizure ; and all persons carrying arms in the streets, without being 
 on service, were to be arrested. Trestaillon, however, who still car- 
 ried arms, was not arrested till some months after, and then not by 
 these authorities, but by General La Garde, who was afterwards as- 
 sassinated by one of his comrades. On this occasion it was remarked, 
 that " the system of specious and deceptive proclamations was perfectly 
 understood, and had long been practised in Languedoc ; it was now 
 too late to persecute the protestants simply for their religion. Even 
 in the good times of Louis XIV. there was public opinion enough in 
 Europe to make that arch tyrant have recourse to the meanest strata- 
 gems." The following single specimen of the plan pursued by the 
 authors of the Dragonades may serve as a key to all the plausible pro- 
 clamations which, in 1815, covered the perpetration of the most de- 
 liberate and extensive crimes : — 
 
 Letters from Louvois to Marillac. 
 
 " The king rejoices to learn from your letters, that there are so 
 many conversions in your department ; and he desires that you would 
 continue your efforts, and employ the same means that have been 
 hitherto so successful. His majesty has ordered me to send a regi- 
 ment of cavalry, ttic gv^atest part o£ ^yhv-.h he wishes to be quartered 
 upon the protestants, but he does not thmku prudent that they should 
 be all lodged with them ; that is to say, ot twen. -^ masters, of which 
 a company is composed, if, by a judicious distriu,.;^^^ ^^^ ^^ , ^ ^^ 
 be received by the protestants, give them twenty, a ^^b^ ^^^ 
 
 on the rich, making this pretence, that when there areP 
 enough in L town for all to have some, the P°«f, °"g^* *^^^^,-^^empt, 
 aSd the rich burdened. His majesty has also thought prop^. ^ ^ 
 Ser, that all 'converts be exempted from lodgmg soldiers for two y. 
 
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS—ISM to 1820, 577 
 
 This will occasion numerous conversions if you take care that it is 
 rigorously executed, and that in all the distributions and passage of 
 troops, by far the greatest number are quartered on the rich protest- 
 ants. His majesty particularly enjoins, that your orders on this sub- 
 ject, either by yourself or your sub-delegates, be given by word of 
 mouth to the mayors and sheriffs, without letting them know that his 
 majesty intends by these means to force to become converts, and only 
 explaining to them, that you give these orders on the information you 
 have received, that in these places the rich are excepted by their in- 
 fluence, to the prejudice of the poor." 
 
 The merciless treatment of the women in this persecution at Nismes 
 was such as would have disgraced any savages ever heard of. The 
 widows Rivet and Bernard were forced to sacrifice enormous sums ; 
 and the house of Mrs. Lecointe was ravaged, and her goods destroy- 
 ed. Mrs. F. Didier had her dwelling sacked and nearly demolished 
 to the foundations. A party of these bigots visited the widow Perrin, 
 who lived on a Httle farm at the windmills : having committed every 
 species of devastation, they attacked even the sanctuary of the dead, 
 which contained the relics of her family. They dragged the coffins 
 out, and scattered the contents over the adjacent grounds. In vain 
 this outraged widow collected the bones of her ancestors and replaced 
 them: they were again dug up ; and, after several useless efforts, 
 they were reluctantly left spread over the surface of the fields. 
 
 Till the period announced for the sequestration of the property of 
 the fugitives by authority, murder and plunder were the daily employ- 
 ment of what was called the army of Beaucaire, and the catholics of 
 Nismes. M. Peyron, of Brossan, had all his property carried off": 
 his wine, oil, seed, grain, several score of sheep, eight mules, three 
 earts, his furniture and effects, all the cash that could be found, and 
 he had only to congratulate himself that his habitation was not con- 
 sumed, and his vineyards rooted up. A similar process against se- 
 veral other protestant farmers was also regularly carried on during 
 several days. Many of the protestants thus persecuted were \ve\l 
 known as staunch royalists ; but it was enough for their enemies to 
 know that they belonged to the reformed conmnunion : these fanatics 
 were determined not to find either royalists or citizens worthy the 
 common protection of society. To accuse, condemn, and destroy a 
 protestant, was a matter that required no hesitation. The house of 
 M. Vitte, near the barracks at Nismes, was broken open, and every 
 thing withiti the walls demolished. A Jew family of lodgers was 
 driven out, and all their goods thrown out of the windows. M. 
 Vitte was seized, robbed of his watch and money, severely wounded, 
 and left for dead. After he had been fourteen hours in a state of in- 
 sensibility, a commissary of police, touched by his misfortunes, ad- 
 ministered some cordials to revi,ve him ; and, as a measure of safe- 
 ty, conducted him to the citadel, where he remained many days, 
 whilst his family lamented him as dead. At length, as there was not. 
 the slightest charge against him, he obtained his liberation from M. 
 Vidal ; but when the Austrians arrived, one of the aides-de-camp, 
 who heard of his sufferings and his respectability, sought him out, 
 and furnished an escort to conduct his family to a place of safety. 
 Dalbos, the only city beadle who was a protestant, was dragged from 
 his home and led to prison. His niece threw herself on the neck of 
 
 73 
 
578 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 one of them and begged for mercy : the ruffian dashed her to the 
 ground. His sister was driven away by the mob ; and he being shot, 
 his body remained a long time exposed to the insults of the rabble. 
 
 Royal Decree in favour of the Persecuted. 
 
 At length the decree of Louis XVIIL, which annulled all the ex- 
 traordinary powers conferred either by the king, the princes, or su- 
 bordinate agents, was received at Nismes, and the laws were now to 
 be administered by the regular organs, and a new prefect arrived to 
 carry them into effect; but in spite of proclamations, the work of de- 
 struction, stopped for a moment, was not abandoned, but soon renew- 
 ed with fresh vigour and effect. On theSOth of July, Jacques Combe, 
 the father of a family, was killed by some of the national guards of 
 Rusau, and the crime was so public, that the commander of the party 
 restored to the family the pocket-book and papers of the deceased. 
 On the following day tumultuous crowds roamed about the city and 
 suburbs, threatening the wretched peasants ; and on the 1st of August 
 they butchered them without opposition. About noon on the same 
 day, six armed men, headed by Truphemy the butcher, surround- 
 ed the house of Monot, a carpenter ; two of the party, who were 
 smiths, had been at work in the house the day before, and had seen 
 a protestant who had taken refuge there, M. Bourillon, who had been 
 a lieutenant in the army, and had retired on a pension. He was a 
 man of an excellent character, peaceable and harmless, and had ne- 
 ver served the Emperor Napoleon. Truph6my not knowing him, 
 he was pointed out, partaking of a frugal breakfast with the family. 
 Truphemy ordered him to go along with him, adding, " Your friend, 
 Saussine, is already in the other world." Truphemy placed him in 
 the middle of his troop, and artfully ordered him to cry Vive VEm- 
 ferear : he refused, adding, he had never served the emperor. In 
 vain did the women and children of the house intercede for his life, 
 and praise his amiable and virtuous qualities. He was marched to 
 the Esplanade and shot, first by Truphemy and then by the others. 
 Several persons, attracted by the firing, approached, but were threat- 
 ened with a similar fate. After some time the wretches departed, 
 shouting Vive le Roi. Some women met them, and one of them ap- 
 pearing affected, said one, " I have killed seven to-day, for my share, 
 and if you say a word, you shall be the eighth." Pierre Courbet, a 
 stocking weaver, was torn from his loom by an armed band, and shot 
 at his own door. His eldest daughter was knocked down with the 
 butt end of a musket ; and a poignard was held at the breast of his 
 wife while the mob plundered her apartments. Paul Heraut, a silk 
 weaver, was literally cut in pieces, in the presence of a large crowd, 
 and amidst the unavailing cries and tears of his wife and four young 
 children. The murderers only abajadoned the corpse to return to 
 Heraut's house and secure every thing valuable. The number of 
 murders on this day could not be ascertained. One person saw six 
 bodies at the Cours Neuf, and nine were carried to the hospital. 
 
 If murder some time after become less frequent for a few days, pil- 
 lao-c and forced contributions were actively enforced. M. Salle 
 d'Hombro, at several visits, was robbed of 7000 francs ; and, on one 
 occasion, when he pleaded the sacrifices he had made, " Look," said 
 a bandit, pointing to his pipe, " this will set fire to your house ; and 
 
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 tD 18^ 575 
 
 this," brandishing his sword, " will finish you." No reply could be 
 made to these arguments. M. Feline, a silk manufacturer, was rob- 
 bed of 32,000 francs in gold, 3000 francs in silver, and several bales 
 of silk. 
 
 The small shopkeepers were continually exposed to visits and de- 
 mands of provisions, drapery, or whatever they sold ; and the same 
 hands that set fire to the houses of the rich, and tore up the vines of 
 the cultivator, broke the looms of the Aveaver, and stole the tools of 
 the artizan. Desolation reigned in the sanctuary and in the city. 
 The armed bands, instead of being reduced, were increased ; the fu- 
 gitives, instead of returning, received constant accessions, and their 
 friends who sheltered them Avere deemed rebellious. Those protes- 
 tants who remained were deprived of all their civil and religious 
 rights, and even the advocates and huissiers entered into a resolution 
 to exclude all of " the pretended reformed religion" from their bodies. 
 Those who were employed in selling tobacco were deprived of their 
 licenses. The protestant deacons who had the charge of the poor 
 were all scattered. Of five pastors only two remained ; one of these 
 was obliged to change his residence, and could only venture to ad- 
 minister the consolations of religion, or perform the functions of his 
 ministry, under cover of the night. 
 
 Not contented with these modes of torment, calumnious and inflam- 
 matory publications charged the protestants with raising the proscri- 
 bed standard in the communed, and invoking the fallen Napoleon ; 
 and, of course, as unworthy the protection of the laws and the favour 
 of the monarch. 
 
 Hundreds after this were dragged to prison without even so much 
 as a written order ; and though an Ofiicial NeAvspaper, bearing the 
 title of the Journal du Gard, was set up, lor five months while it Avas 
 influenced by the prefect, the mayor, and other functionaries, the 
 word charter Avas never once used in it. One of the first numbers, on 
 the contrary, represented the sufiering protestants as " Crocodiles, 
 only weeping from rage and regret that they had no more victims to 
 devour ; as persons Avho had surpassed Danton, Marat, and Robes- 
 pierre, in doing mischief: and as having prostituted their daughters 
 to the garrison to gain it over to Napoleon." An extract from this 
 article, stamped with the crown and the arms of the Bourbons, was 
 hawked about the streets, and the vender Avas adorned with the medal 
 of the police. 
 
 Petition of the Protestant Refugees. 
 
 To these reproaches it is proper to oppose the petition Avhich the 
 Protestant Refugees in Paris presented to Louis XVIII. in behalf of 
 <heir brethren at Nismes. 
 
 " We lay at your feet, sire, our acute sufferings. In your name 
 our fellow citizens are slaughtered, and their property laid waste. 
 Misled peasants, in pretended obedience to your orders, had assem- 
 bled at the command of a commissioner appointed by your august 
 nephcAV. Although ready to attack us, they were received Avith the 
 assurances of peace. On the 15th of July, 1815, Ave learnt your ma- 
 jesty's entrance into Paris, and the Avliite flag immediately Avaved on 
 our edifices. The public tranquillity had not been disturbed, Avhen 
 armed peasants introduced themselves. The garrison capitulated, 
 
580 BOOK OF MARTYRS. ' 
 
 but were assailed on their departure, and almost totally massacred. 
 Our national guard was disarmed, the city filled with strangers, and 
 the houses of the principal inhabitants, professing the reformed reli- 
 gion, were attacked and plundered. We subjoin the list. Terror 
 has driven from our city the most respectable inhabitants. 
 
 " Your majesty has been deceived if there has not been placed be- 
 fore you the picture of the horrors Avhich make a desert of your good 
 city of Nismes. Arrests and proscriptions are continually taking 
 place, and difference of religions opinions is the real and only cause. 
 The calumniated protestants are the defenders of the throne. Your 
 nephew has beheld our children under his banners ; our fortunes have 
 been placed in his hands. Attacked without reason, the protestants 
 have not, even by a just resistance, afforded their enemies the fatal 
 pretext for calumny. Save us, sire ! extinguish the brand of civil 
 war ; a single act of your will would restore to political existence a 
 city interesting for its population and its manufactures. Demand an 
 account of their conduct from the chiefs who have brought our mis- 
 fortunes upon us. We place before your eyes all the documents that 
 have reached us. Fear paralizes the hearts, and stifles the com- 
 plaints of our fellow citizens. Placed in a more secure situation» we 
 venture to raise our voice in their behalf," &c. &.c. 
 
 Monstrous Outrage upon Females. 
 
 At Nismes it is well known that the women wash their clothes either 
 at the fountains, or on the banks of streams. There is a large basin 
 near the fountain, where numbers of women may be seen, every day, 
 kneeling at the edge of the water, and beating the clothes with heavy 
 pieces of wood in the^ shape of battledoors. This spot became the 
 scene of the most shameful and indecent practices. The catholic 
 rabble turned the women's petticoats over their heads, and so fasten- 
 ed them as to continue their exposure, and their subjection to a 
 newly invented species of chastisement ; for nails being placed in 
 the wood of the hattoirs in the form o( fleur-de-lis, they beat them till 
 the blood streamed from their bodies, and their cries rent the air. 
 Often was death demanded as a commutation of this ignominious 
 punishment, but refused with a malignant joy. To carry their outrage 
 to the highest possible degree, several who were in a state of preg- 
 nancy were assailed in this manner. The scandalous nature of these 
 outrages prevented many of the sufferers from making them public, 
 and, especially, from relating the most aggravating circumstances. " I 
 have seen," says M. Durand, " a catholic avocat, accompanying the 
 assassins in the fauxbourg Bourgade, arm a battoir with sharp nails 
 in the form of flevr-de-lis ; I have seen them raise the garments of 
 females, and apply, with heavy blows, to the bleeding body this battoir 
 or battledoor, to which they gave a name vv^hich my pen refuses to 
 record. The cries of the sufferers — the streams of blood — the mur- 
 murs of indignation which were suppressed by fear — nothing could 
 move them. The surgeons wlio attended on those women who are 
 dead, can attest, by the marks of their wounds, the agonies which they 
 must have endured, which, however horrible, is most strictly true." 
 
 Nevertheless, during the progress of these horrors and obscenities, 
 BO disgraceful to France and the catholic religion, the agent? of go 
 
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820. 581 
 
 vernment had a powerful force under their command, and by honestly 
 employing it they might have restored tranquillity. Murder and rob- 
 bery, however, continued, and were winked at, by the catholic magis- 
 trates, with very few exceptions ; the administrative authorities, it is 
 true, used words in their proclamations, &.c. but never had recourse 
 to actions to stop the enormities of the persecutors, who boldly de- 
 clared, that, on the 24th, the anniversary of St, Bartholomew, they 
 intended to make a general massacre. The members of the reformed 
 church were filled with terror, and, instead of taking part in the 
 election of deputies, were occupied as well as they could in provi- 
 ding for their own personal safety. 
 
 Arrival of the Austrians at Nismes. 
 
 About this time, a treaty between the French court and the allied 
 sovereigns, prohibited the advance of the foreign troops beyond the 
 line of territory already occupied, and traced by the course of the 
 Loire, and by the Rhone, below the Ardeche. In violation of this 
 treaty, 4000 Austrians entered Nismes on the 24th of August ; under 
 pretence of making room for them, French troops, bearing the feudal 
 title of Royal Chasseurs, followed by the murdering bands of the Tr'^s- 
 taillons and Quatretallions, who continued their march to Alais, where 
 a fair was to be held, and carried disorder and alarm into all the com- 
 mimes on that route. Notliing now was heard but denunciations of 
 fusillading, burning, razing, and annihilating^; and while the catholics 
 were feasting and murdering at Nismes, the flames of the country 
 houses of the protestants, rising 100 feet in the air, rendered the spec- 
 tacle still more awful and alarming. Unfortunately, some of the pea- 
 sants, falsely charged with the murder of two protestants, were brought 
 to Nismes while the prefect was celebrating the fete of St. Louis. At 
 a splendid dinner given to the Austrian commanders, and even with- 
 out quitting the table, it appears, that the French prefect placed the 
 fate and fortune of these unfortunate prisoners at the disposal of Count 
 Stahremberg, who, of course, believing the representations made to 
 him, ordered the accused to be immediately shot. To mortify and 
 exhaust the protestant communes, the Austrians were directed to oc- 
 cupy them, where they completely disarmed the inhabitants without 
 the least opposition. In fact, these foreigners were soon undeceived. 
 They expected to meet the most perfidious and brutal enemies in arms, 
 and in open rebellion against their king ; but, on the contrary, they 
 found them all in peace, and experienced the most kind and respectful 
 treatment ; and though their duty was a most vexatious and oppressive 
 one, they performed it in general with moderation. On this account 
 they could not refrain from expressing their astonishment at the repoi ts 
 made to them by the authorities at Nismes, declaring, " They had 
 found a population suffering great misfortunes, but no rebels ; and that 
 compassion was the only feeling that prevailed in their minds." The 
 commander himself was so convinced of the good disposition of the 
 people of the Cevennes, that he visited those districts without an 
 escort, desiring, he said, to travel in that country as he would in his 
 own. Such confidence was a public reproach on the authorities al 
 Nismes, and a sentence of condemnation on all their proceedings. 
 
 As the persecution of the protestants was spreading into other de- 
 partments, strong and forcible representations were secretly printed 
 
582 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 and made to the king. All the ordinary modes of communication 
 had been stopped ; the secrecy of letters violated, and none circulated 
 but those relative to private affairs. Sometimes these letters bore the 
 post-mark of places very distant, and arrived without signatures, and 
 enveloped in allegorical allusions. In fact, a powerful resistance on 
 the part of the outraged protestants was at length apprehended, which, 
 in the beginning of September excited the proclamation of the king, 
 on which it was observed, " that if his majesty had been correctly and 
 fully informed of all that had taken place, he surely would not have 
 contented himself with announcing his severe displeasure to a misled 
 people, who took justice into their own hands, and avenged the crimes 
 committed against royalty.'''' The proclamation was dictated as though 
 there had not been a protestant in the department ; it assumed and 
 affirmed throughout the guilt of the sufferers ; and while it deplored 
 the atrocious outrages endured by the followers of the duke d'Angou- 
 leme, (outrages which never existed,) the plunder and massacre of the 
 reformed were not even noticed. 
 
 Still disorders kept pace with the proclamations that made a show 
 of suppressing them, and the force of the catholic faction also conti- 
 nued to increase. The catholic populace, notwithstanding the de- 
 crees of the magistrates, were allowed to retain the arms they had 
 illegally seized, whilst the protestants in the departments were dis- 
 armed. The members of the reformed churches wished at this pe- 
 riod to present another memorial to the government, descriptive of 
 the evils they still suffered, but this was not practicable. On the 
 26th of September, the president of the consistory wrote as follows : 
 " I have only been able to assemble two or three members of the 
 consistory pastors or elders. It is impossible to draw up a memoir, 
 or to collect facts ; so great is the terror, that every one is afraid to 
 speak of his own sufferings, or to mention those he has been compel- 
 led to witness." 
 
 Outrages committed in the Villages, ^c. 
 
 "We now quit Nismes to take a view of the conduct of the persecu- 
 tors in the surrounding country. After the re-establishment of the 
 royal government, the local authorities were distinguished for their 
 zeal and forwardness in supporting their employers, and, under pre- 
 tence of rebellion, concealment of arms, non-payment of contribu- 
 tions, &c. troops, national guards, and armed mobs, were permitted 
 to plunder, arrest, and murder peaceable citizens, not merely with 
 impunity, but with encouragement and approbation. At the village of 
 Milhaud, near Nismes, the inhabitants were frequently forced to pay 
 large sums to avoid being pillaged. This, however, would not avail 
 at Madame Teulon's : On Sunday, the 16th of July, her house and 
 grounds were ravaged ; the valuable furniture removed or destroyed, 
 the hay and wood burnt, and the corpse of a child, buried in the gar- 
 den, taken up and dragged round a fire made by the populace. I* 
 was with great difficulty that M. Teulon escaped with his life. M. 
 Picherol, another protestant, had deposited some of his effects with a 
 catholic neighbour ; this house was attacked, and though all the 
 property of the latter was respected, that of his friend was seized and 
 destroyed. At the same village, one of a party doubting whether M. 
 
FRENCH PERSECtJTIONS^1814 to 1820. 683 
 
 Hermet, a tailor, was the man they wanted, asked, " Is he a protest- 
 ant ?" this he acknowledged, " Good," said they, and he was instantly 
 murdered. In the canton of Vauvert, where there was a consistory 
 church, 80,000 francs were extorted. In the communes of Beauvoi- 
 sin and Generac similar excesses were committed by a handful of li- 
 centious men, under thp eye of the catholic mayor, and to the cries of 
 " Vive le Roi." St. Gilles was the scene of the most unblushing villa- 
 ny. The protestants, the most wealthy of the inhabitants, were dis- 
 armed, whilst their houses were pillaged. The mayor was appealed 
 to : — the mayor laughed and walked away. This officer had, at his 
 disposal, a national guard of several hundred men, organized by his 
 own orders. It would be wearisome to read the lists of the crimes 
 that occurred during many months. At Clavisson the mayor prohi- 
 bited the protestants the practice of singing the psalms commonly used 
 in the temple, that, as he said, the catholics might not be oflended or 
 disturbed. 
 
 At Sommieres, about ten miles from Nismes, the catholics made 
 a splendid procession through the town, which continued till evening, 
 and was succeeded by the plunder of the protestants. On the arrival 
 of foreign troops at Sommieres, the pretended search for arms was 
 resumed ; those who did not possess muskets were even compelled to 
 buy them on purpose to surrender them up, and soldiers were quar- 
 tered on them at six francs per day till they produced the articles in 
 demand. The protestant church which had been closed, was con- 
 verted into barracks for the Austsians. After divine service had been 
 suspended for six months at Nismes, the church, by the protestants 
 called the Temple, was re-opened, and public worship performed on 
 the morning of the 24th of December. On examining the belfry, it 
 was discovered that some persons had carried off the clapper of the 
 bell. As the hour of service approached, a number of men, women, 
 and children, collected at the house of M. Ribot, the pastor, and 
 threatened to prevent the worship. At the appointed time, when he 
 proceeded towards the church, he was surrounded ; the most savage 
 shouts were raised against him ; some of the women seized him by 
 the collar ; but nothing could disturb his firmness, or excite his im- 
 patience : he entered the house of prayer, and ascended the pulpit ; 
 stones were thrown in and fell among the worshippers ; still the con- 
 gregation remained calm and attentive, and the service was conclu- 
 ded amidst noise, threats, and outrage. On retiring many would 
 have been killed but for the chasseurs of the garrison, who honour- 
 ably and zealously protected them. From the captain of these chas- 
 seurs M. Ribot soon after received the following letter. 
 
 " January 3, 1816. 
 " I deeply lament the prejudices of the catholics against the pro- 
 testants, who they pretend do not love the king. Continue to act as 
 you have hitherto done, and time and your conduct will convince the 
 catholics to the contrary : should any tumult occur similar to that of 
 Saturday last, inform me. I preserve my reports of these acts, and 
 if the agitators prove incorrigible, and forget what they owe to the best 
 of kings and the charter, I will do my duty and inform the govern- 
 ment of their proceedings. Adieu, my dear sir ; assure the consis- 
 tory of my esteem, and of the sense 1 entertain of the moderation 
 
584 BOOK OP MARTYRS, 
 
 with which they have met the provocations of the evil-disposed at 
 Sommieres. I have the honour to salute you with respect. 
 
 SUVAL DE LaINE." 
 
 Another letter to this worthy pastor from the Marquis de Montlord, 
 was received on the 6th of January, to encourage him to unite with all 
 good men who believe in God to obtain tlie punishment of the assas- 
 sins, brigands, and disturbers of public tranquillity, and to read the in- 
 structions he had received from government to this effect publicly. 
 Notwithstanding this, on the 20th of January, 1816, when the service 
 in commemoration of the death of Louis XVI. was celebrated, a pro- 
 cession being formed, the National Guards fired at the white flag sus- 
 pended from the windows of the protestants, and concluded the day 
 by plundering their houses. In the Commune of Angargues, mat- 
 ters were still worse ; and in that of Fontanes, from the entry of the 
 king in 1815, the catholics broke all terms with the protestants ; 
 by day they insulted them, and in the night broke open their doors, 
 or marked them with chalk to be plundered or burnt. St. Mamert was 
 repeatedly visited by these robberies; and at Montmiral, as lately as 
 the 16th of June, 1816, the protestants were attacked, beaten, and im- 
 prisoned, for daring to celebrate the return of a king who had sworn 
 to preserve religious liberty and to maintain the charter. In fact, to 
 continue the relation of the scenes that took place in the different de- 
 partments of the south of France, would be little better than a repeti- 
 tion of those we have already described, excepting a change of names : 
 but the most sanguinary of all seems that which was perpetrated at 
 Uzes, at the latter end of August, and the burning of several protest- 
 ant places of worship. These shameful persecutions continued till 
 after the dissolution of the Chamber of Deputies at the close of the 
 year 1816. After a review of these anti-protestant proceedings, the 
 British reader will not think of comparing them with the riots of Lon- 
 don in 1780, or with those of Birmingham about 1793 ; as it is evi- 
 dent that where governments possess absolute power, such events 
 could not have been prolonged for many months and even for years 
 over a vast extent of country, had it not been for the systematic and 
 powerful support of the higher department of the state. 
 
 Farther Account of the Proceedings of the Catholics at Nismes. 
 
 The excesses perpetrated in the country it seems did not by any 
 means divert the attention of the persecutors frorsNismes. October, 
 1815, commenced without any improvement in tSc principles or mea- 
 sures of the government, and this was followed by corresponding pre- 
 sumption on the part of the people. Several houses in the Quartier 
 St. Charles were sacked, and their wrecks burnt in the streets, amidst 
 songs, dances, and shouts of Vive le Roi. The mayor appeared, but 
 the merry multitude pretended not to know him, and when he ven- 
 tured to remonstrate, they told him, " his presence was unnecessary, 
 and that he might retire." During the 16th of October, every prepa- 
 ration seemed to announce a night of carnage ; orders for assembling 
 and signals for attack were circulated with regularity and confidence ; 
 Trestaillon reviewed his satellites, and urged them on to the perpe- 
 
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820 535 
 
 tration of crimes, holding with one of those wretches the following 
 dialogue : 
 
 Satellite. " If all the protestants, without one exception, are to be 
 killed, I will cheerfully join ; but as you have so often deceived me, 
 unless they are all to go I will not stir." 
 
 Trestaillon. " Come along, then, for this time not a single man 
 shall escape." This horrid purpose would have been executed had it 
 not been for General La Garde, the commandant of the department. 
 It was not till ten o'clock at night that he perceived the danger ; he 
 now felt that not a moment could be lost. Crowds were advancing 
 through the suburbs, and the streets were filling with ruffians, utter- 
 ing the most horrid imprecations. The generale sounded at eleven 
 o'clock, and added to the confusion that was now spreading through 
 the city. A few troops rallied round the Count La Garde, who was 
 wrung with distress at the sight of the evil wich had arrived at such 
 a pitch. Of this M. Durand, a catholic advocate, gave the following 
 account : 
 
 " It was near midnight, my wife had just fallen asleep ; I was wri- 
 ting by her side, when we were disturbed by a distant noise ; drums 
 seemed crossing the town in every direction. What could all this 
 mean ! To quiet her alarms, I said it probably announced the arrival 
 or departure of some troops of the garrison. But firing and shouts 
 were immediately audible ; and on opening my window I distinguish- 
 ed horrible imprecations mingled with cries of Vive le Roi ! I roused 
 an officer who lodged in the house, and M. Chancel, Director of the 
 Public Works. We went out together, and gained the Boulevarde. 
 The moon shone bright, and almost every object was nearly as dis- 
 tinct as day ; a furious crowd was pressing on, vowing extermination, 
 and the greater part half naked, armed with knives, muskets, sticks, 
 and sabres. In answer to my inquiries, I was told the massacre was 
 general ; that many had been already killed in the suburbs. M. 
 Chancel retired to put on his uniform as Captain of the Pompiers ; 
 the officers retired to the barracks, and anxious for my wife I returned 
 home. By the noise I was convinced that persons followed. I crept 
 along in the shadow of the wall, opened my door, entered, and closed 
 it, leaving a small aperture through which I could watch the move- 
 ments of the party whose arms shone in the moonlight. In a few mo- 
 ments some armed men appeared conducting a prisoner to the very 
 spot where I was concealed. They stopped, I shut my door gently, 
 and mounted on an alder tree planted against the garden wall. What 
 a scene ! a man cOsl his knees imploring mercy from wretches who 
 mocked his agony, and loaded him with abuse. In the name of my 
 wife and children, he said, spare me ! What have I done? Why 
 would you murder me for nothing ? I was on the point of crying out 
 and menacing the murderers with vengeance. I had not long to 
 deliberate, the discharge of several fusils terminated my suspense ; 
 the unhappy supplicant, struck in the loins and the head, fell to rise no 
 more. The backs of the assassins were towards the tree ; they retired 
 immediately, reloading their pieces. I descended and approached 
 the dykig man, uttering some deep and dismal groans. Some Na- 
 tional Guards arrived at the moment, I again retired and shut the 
 door : "I see," said one, " a dead man." " He sings still," said ano- 
 ther. " It will be better," said a third, ^' to finish him and put him 
 
 74 
 
586 BOOK OP MARTYRS. 
 
 out of his misery." Five or six muskets were fired instantly, and the 
 groans ceased. On the following day crowds came to inspect and 
 insidt the deceased. A day after a massacre was always observed 
 as a sort of fete, and every occupation was left to go azid gaze upon 
 the victims. This was Louis Lichare, the father of four children ; 
 and four years after the event M. Durand verified this account by his 
 oath upon the trial of one of the murderers." 
 
 V Attack upon the Protestcmt Churches, 
 
 Some time before the death of General La Garde, the duke of 
 Angouleme had visited Nismes, and other cities in the south, and at 
 the former place honoured the members of the protestant consistory 
 with an interview, promising them protection, and encouraging them 
 to reopen their temple so long shut up. They have two churches at 
 Nismes, and it was agreed that the small one should be preferred on 
 this occasion, and that the ringing of the bell should be omitted ; 
 General La Garde declared that he would answer with his head for 
 the safety of the congregation. The protestants privately informed 
 each other that worship was once more to be celebrated at ten o'clock, 
 and they began to assemble silently and cautiously. It was agreed 
 that M. Juillerat Chasseur should perform the service, though such 
 was his conviction of danger that he entreated his wife, and some of 
 his flock, to remain with their families. The temple being opened 
 only as a matter of form, and in compliance with the orders of the 
 Duke d' Angouleme, this pastor wished to be the only victim. On his 
 way to the place he passed numerous groupes who regarded him with 
 ferocious looks. " This is the time," said some, " to give them the last 
 blow." " Yes," added others, " and neither women nor children must 
 be spared." One wretch, raising his voice above the rest, exclaimed, 
 " Ah, I will go and get my musket, and ten for my share." Through 
 these ominous sounds M. Juillerat pursued his course, but when he 
 gained the temple the sexton had not the courage to open the door, 
 and he was obliged to do it himself. As the worshippers arrived they 
 found strange persons in possession of the adjacent streets, and upon 
 the steps of the church, vowing their worship should not be perform- 
 ed, and crying, " Down with the protestants ! Kill them ! kill them !" 
 At ten o'clock the church being nearly filled, M. J. Chasseur com- 
 menced the prayers ; a calm that succeeded was of short duration. 
 On a sudden the minister was interrupted by a violent noise, and a 
 number of persons entered, uttering the most dreadful cries, mingled 
 with Vive le Roi ! but the gens-d'armes succeeded in excluding these 
 fanatics, and closing the doors. The noise and tumult without now 
 redoubled, and the blows of the populace trying to break open the 
 doors, caused the house to resound with shrieks and groans. . The 
 voice of the pastors who endeavoured to console their flock, was in- 
 audible ; they attempted in vain to sing the 42d psalm. 
 
 Three quarters of an hour rolled heavily away. " I placed myself," 
 says Madame Juillerat, " at the bottom of the pulpit, with my 
 daughter in my arms ; my husband at length joined and sustained 
 me ; I remembered that it was the anniversary of my marriage ; 
 after six years of happiness, I said, I am about to die with my hus- 
 band and my daughter ; we shall be slain at the altar of our God, the 
 
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820. 587 
 
 victims of a sacred duty, and heaven will open to receive us and our 
 unhappy brethren. I blessed the Redeemer, and without cursing our 
 murderers, I awaited their approach." 
 
 M. Oliver, son of a pastor, an officer in the royal troops of the line, 
 attempted to leave the church, but the friendly sentinels at the door 
 advised him to remain besieged with the rest. The national guards 
 refused to act, and the fanatical crowd took every advantage of the 
 absence of General La Garde, and of their increasing numbers. At 
 length the sound of martial music was heard, and voices from without 
 called to the besieged, " Open, open, and save yourselves." Their 
 first impression was a fear of treachery, but they were soon assured 
 that a detachment returning from mass was drawn up in front of the 
 church to favour the retreat of the protestants. The door was open- 
 ed, and many of them escaped among the ranks of the soldiers, who 
 had driven the mob before them ; but this street, as well as others 
 through which the fugitives had to pass, was soon filled again. The 
 venerable pastor, Olivier Desmond, between 70 and 80 years of age, 
 was surrounded by murderers ; they put their fists in his face, and 
 cried, " Kill the chief of brigands." He was preserved by the firm- 
 ness of some officers, among whom was his own son ; they made a 
 bulwark round him with their bodies, and amidst their naked sabres 
 conducted him to his house. M. Juillerat, who had assisted at divine 
 service, with his wife at his side, and his child in his arms, was pur- 
 sued and assailed with stones ; his mother received a blow on the 
 head, and her life was some time in danger. One woman was shame- 
 fully whipped, and several wounded and dragged along the streets ; 
 the number of protestants more or less ill treated on this occasion, 
 amounted to between seventy and eighty. 
 
 Murder of General La Garde. 
 
 At length a check was put to these excesses by the report of the 
 murder of Count La Garde, who, receiving an account of this 
 tumult, mounted his horse, and entered one of the streets, to disperse 
 a crowd. A villain seized his bridle ; another presented the muzzle of 
 a pistol close to his body, and exclaimed, " Wretch, you make me 
 retire !" He immediately fired. The murderer was Louis Boissin, a 
 Serjeant in the national guard ; but, though known to every one, no 
 person endeavoured to arrest him, and he effected his escape. As 
 soon as the general found himself wounded, he gave orders to the 
 gendarmerie to protect the protestants, and set off" on a gallop to his 
 hotel; but fainted immediately on his arrival. On recovering, he 
 
 f)revented the surgeon from searching his wound till he had written a 
 etter to the government, that, in case of his death, it might be known 
 from what quarter the blow came, and that none might dare to accuse 
 the protestants of this crime. The probable death of this general 
 produced a small degree of relaxation on the part of their enemies, 
 and some calm ; but the mass of the people had been indulged in 
 licentiousness too long to be restrained even by the murder of the re- 
 presentative of their king. In the evening they again repaired to ti:e 
 temple, and with hatchets broke open the doors ; the dismal noise o^ 
 iheir blows carried terror into the bosom of the protestant families 
 sitting in their houses in tears. The contents of the poor's box, and 
 
588 BOOK OP MARTYRS 
 
 the clothes prepared for distribution, were stolen ; the minister's robea 
 rent in pieces ; the books torn up or carried away ; the closets were 
 ransacked, but the room which contained the archives of the church, 
 and the synods, was providentially secured ; and had it not been for the 
 numerous patrols on foot, the whole would have become the prey of 
 the flames, and the edifice itself a heap of ruins. In the mean while, 
 the fanatics openly ascribed the murder of the general to his own 
 self-devotion, and said " that it was the will of God." Three thou- 
 sand francs were offered for the apprehension of Boissin ; but it was 
 well known that the protestants dared not arrest him, and that the 
 fanatics would not. During these transactions, the systems of forced 
 conversions to Catholicism was making regular and fearful pro- 
 gress. 
 
 Interference of the British Government. 
 
 To the credit of England, the reports of these cruel persecutions 
 carried on against our protestant brethren in France, produced such 
 a sensation on the part of government as determined them to inter- 
 fere ; and now the persecutors of the protestants made this spotaneous 
 act of humanity and religion the pretext for charging the sufferers 
 with a treasonable correspondence with England ; but in this state of 
 their proceedings, to their great dismay, a letter appeared, sent some 
 time before to England by the duke of "Wellington, stating " that much 
 information existed on the events of the south." 
 
 The ministers of the three denominations in London, anxious not 
 to be misled, requested one of their brethren to visit the scenes of 
 persecution, and examine with impartiality the nature and extent of 
 the evils they w^ere desirous to relieve. The Rev. Clement Perrot 
 undertook this difficult task, and fulfilled their wishes with a zeal, 
 prudence, and devotedness, above all praise. His return furnished 
 abundant and incontestible proof of a shameful persecution, materi- 
 als for an appeal to the British parliament, and a printed report which 
 was circulated through the continent, and which first conveyed cor 
 rect information to the inhabitants of France. 
 
 Foreign interference was now found eminently useful ; and the de- 
 clarations of tolerance which it elicited from the French government, 
 as well as the more cautious march of the catholic persecutors, ope- 
 rated as decisive and involuntary acknowledgments of the importance 
 of that interference, which some persons at first censured and despised : 
 but though the stern voice of public opinion in England and elsewhere 
 produced a reluctant suspension of massacre and pillage, the murder- 
 ers and plunderers were still left unpunished, and even caressed and 
 rewarded for their crimes ; and whilst protestants in France suffered 
 the most cruel and degrading pains and penalties for alleged trifling 
 crimes, catholics, covered with blood, and guilty of numerous and 
 horrid murders, were acquitted. 
 
 Perhaps the virtuous indignation expressed by some of the more 
 enlightened catholics against these abominable proceedings, had no 
 small share in restraining them. Many innocent protestants had been 
 condemned to the gallies, and otherwise punished, for supposed crimes, 
 upon the oaths of wretches the most unprincipled and abandoned. 
 M. Madier de Montgau, judge of the coiir royale of Nismes, and 
 president of the coxir d'assizes of the Gard and Vaucluse, upon one 
 
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820. ggd 
 
 occasion felt himself compelled to break up the court, rather than 
 take the deposition of that notorious and sanguinary monster Tru- 
 phemy : " In a hall," says he, " of the Palace of Justice, opposite that 
 in which I sat, several unfortunate persons persecuted by the faction 
 were upon trial : every deposition tending to their crimination was 
 applauded with the cries of ' Vive le RoV Three times the explosion 
 of this atrocious joy became so terrible, that it was necessary to send 
 for reinforcements from the barracks, and two hundred soldiers were 
 often unable to restrain the people. On a sudden the shouts and 
 cries of ' Vive le RoV redoubled : a man arrives, caressed, applaud- 
 ed, borne in triumph — it is the horrible Truphemy ; he approaches 
 the tribunal— he comes to depose against the prisoners — he is admit- 
 ted as a witness — he raises his hand to take the oath ! Seized with 
 horror at the sight, I rush from my seat, and enter the hall of coun- 
 cil ; my colleagues follow me ; in vain they persuaded me to resume 
 my seat ; * No !' exclaimed I, * I will not consent to see that wretch 
 admitted to give evidence in a court of justice in the city which he 
 has filled with murders ; in the palace, on the steps of which he has 
 murdered the unfortunate Bourillon. I cannot admit that he should 
 kill his victims by his testimonies no more than by his poniards. He 
 an accuser ! he a witness ! No, never will I consent to see this mon- 
 ster rise, in the presence of magistrates, to take a sacrilegious oath, 
 his hand still reeking with blood." These words were repeated out 
 of doors ; the witness trembled ; the factious also trembled ; the fac- 
 tious who guided the tongue of Truphemy as they had directed his 
 arm, who dictated calumny after they had taught him murder. These 
 words penetrated the dungeons of the condemned, and inspired hope; 
 they gave another courageous advocate the resolution to espouse the 
 cause of the persecuted : he carried the prayers of innocence and 
 misery to the foot of the throne ; there he asked if the evidence of a 
 Truphemy was not sufficient to annul a sentence. The king granted 
 a full and free pardon. 
 
 Perjury in the case of General Gilly, ^c. 
 
 This catholic system of subornation and perjury was carried to 
 such an infamous degree, that twenty-six witnesses were found to 
 sign and swear, that on the 3d of April, 1815, General Gilly, with 
 his own hand, and before their eyes, took down the white flag at 
 Nismes ; though it was proved that at the time when the tri-eoloured 
 flag was raised in its room, the general was fifteen leagues from Nis- 
 mes, and that he did not arrive there till three days after that event. 
 Before tribunals thus constructed, even innocence had not the least 
 chance for protection. General Gilly knew better than to appear be-' 
 fore them, and was condemned to death for contempt of court. But 
 when he left Nismes, he thought either of passing into a foreign coun- 
 try, or of joining the army of the Loire ; and it was long supposed 
 that he had actually escaped. As it was impossible to gain any point, 
 or find any security, his only hope was in concealment, and a friend 
 found him an asylum in the cottage of a peasant ; but that peasant 
 was a protestant, and the general was a catholic : however, he did 
 not hesitate ; he confided in this poor man's honour. This cottage 
 was in the canton of Anduze ; the name of its keeper, Perrier : he 
 
590 BOOK OF MARTYRa '' 
 
 welcomed the fugitive, and did not even ask his name : it was a time 
 of proscription, and his host would know nothing of him ; it was 
 enough that he was unfortunate, and in danger. He was disguised, 
 And he passed for Perrier's cousin. The general is naturally amiable, 
 and he made himself agreeable, sat by the fire, ate potatoes, and con- 
 tented himself with miserable fare. Though subject to frequent and 
 many painful alarms, he preserved his retreat several months, and 
 often heard the visiters of his host boast of the concealment of Gene- 
 ral Gilly, or of being acquainted with the place of his retreat. Patrols 
 were continually searching for arms in the houses of protestants ; 
 and often in the night the general was obliged to leave his mattress, 
 half naked, and hide himself in the fields. Perrier, to avoid these 
 inconveniences, made an under-ground passage, by which his guest 
 could pass to an outhouse. The wife of Perrier could not endure 
 that one who had seen better days should live as her family did, on 
 vegetables and bread, and occasionally bought meat to regale the 
 melancholy stranger. These unusual purchases excited attention ; 
 it was suspected that Perrier had some one concealed ; nightly 
 visits were more frequent. In this state of anxiety he often com- 
 plained of the hardness of his lot. Perrier one day returned from 
 market in a serious mood ; and after some inquiries from his guest, 
 he replied, " Why do you complain ? you are fortunate compared 
 with the poor wretches whose heads were cried in the market to-day: 
 Bruguier, the pastor, at 2400 francs ; Bresse, the mayor, at the 
 same ; and General Gilly at 10,000 !"— " Is it possible 1" " Aye, it 
 is certain." Gilly concealed his emotion ; a momentary suspicion 
 passed his mind ; he appeared to reflect. " Perrier," said he, " I am 
 weary of life ; you are poor and want money : I know Gilly and the 
 place of his concealment ; let us denounce him ; I shall, no doubt, 
 obtain my liberty, and you shall have the 10,000 francs." The old 
 man stood speechless, and as if petrified. His son, a gigantic peasant, 
 27 years of age, who had served in the army, rose from his chair, in 
 which he had listened to the conversation, and in a tone not fo be de- 
 scribed, said, " Sir, hitherto we thought you unfortunate, but honest ; 
 we have respected your sorrow, and kept your secret ; but since you 
 are one of those wretched beings who would inform of a fellow 
 creature, and insure his death to save yourself, there is the door ; and 
 if you do not retire, I will throw you out of the window." Gilly hesi- 
 tated ; the peasant insisted ; the General wished to explain, but he 
 was seized by the collar. " Suppose I should be General Gilly," said 
 the fugitive. The soldier paused. " And it is even so," continued he ; 
 "denounce me, and the 10,000 francs are your's." The soldier threw 
 himself on his neck ; the family were dissolved in tears ; they kissed 
 his hands, his clothes, protested they would never let him leave them, 
 and that they would die rather than he should be arrested. In their 
 kindness he was more secure than ever ; but their cottage was more 
 suspected, and he was ultimately obliged to seek another asylum. 
 The family refused any indemnity for the expense he had occasioned 
 them, and it was not till long after that he could prevail upon them to 
 accept an acknowledgment of their hospitality and their fidelity. In 
 1820, when the course of justice was more free. General Gilly de- 
 manded a trial ; there was nothing against him ; and the Duke d'An- 
 
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820. 591 
 
 gouleme conveyed to Madame Gilly the permission of the king for 
 the return of her husband to the bosom of his country. 
 
 But, even when the French government was resolved to bring the 
 factions of the department of the Gard under the laws, the same men 
 continued to exercise the public functions. The society, called Roy- 
 ale, and its secret committee, maintained a power superior to the 
 laws. It was impossible to procure the condemnation of an assassin, 
 though the evidence against him was incontestible, and for whom, in 
 other times, there would have been no hope. The Truphemys, and 
 others of his stamp, appeared in public, wearing immense mustachios, 
 and white cockades embroidered with green. Like the brigands of 
 Calabria, they had two pistols and a poniard at their waists. Their 
 appearance difiused an air of melancholy mixed with indignation. Even 
 amidst the bustle of the day there was the silence of fear, and the night 
 was disturbed by atrocious songs, or vociferations like the sudden cry 
 of ferocious wild beasts. 
 
 Ultimate Resolution of the Protestants at Nismes. 
 
 With respect to the conduct of the protestants, these highly outraged 
 citizens, pushed to extremities by their persecutors, felt at length that 
 they had only to choose the manner in which they were to perish. 
 They unanimously determined that they would die fighting in their 
 own defence. This firm attitude apprized their butchers that they 
 could no longer murder with impunity. Every thing was immediately 
 changed. Those, who for four years had filled others with terror, 
 now felt it in their turn. They trembled at the force which men, so 
 long resigned, found in despair, and their alarm was heightened when 
 they heard that the inhabitants of the Cevennes, persuaded of the dan- 
 ger of their brethren, were marching to their assistance. But, with- 
 out waiting for these reinforcements, the protestants appeared at night 
 in the same order and armed in the same manner as their enemies. 
 The others paraded the Boulevards, with their usual noise and fury ; 
 but the protestants remained silent and firm in the posts they had 
 chosen. Three days these dangerous and ominous meetings con- 
 tinued ; but the efiusion of blood was prevented by the eflforts of some 
 worthy citizens distinguished by their rank and fortune. By sharing 
 the dangers of the protestant population, they obtained the pardon of 
 an enemy who now trembled while he menaced. 
 
 But though the protestants were modest in their demands, only 
 asking present safety, and security for the future, they did not obtain 
 above half of their requests. The dissolution of the National Guard at 
 Nismes was owing to the prudence and firmness of M. Laine. The 
 re-organization of the Cour Royale was efiected by M. Pasquier, then 
 Keeper of the Seals ; and these measures certainly ensured them a 
 present safety, but no more. M. Madier de Montgau, the generous 
 champion of the protestants of Nismes, was officially summoned be- 
 fore the Court of Cassation at Paris, over which M. de Serre, Keeper of 
 the Seals, presided, to answer for an alleged impropriety of conduct 
 as a magistrate, in making those public appeals to the Chamber 
 which saved the protestants, and increased the difficulties of renew- 
 ing those persecutions of which he complained. The French attor 
 ney general demanded the erasure of his name from the list of ma 
 
592 BOOK OF MARTYRb. 
 
 gistrates, but this the court refused. Unfortunately, since the law of 
 elections in France has been changed, two of the bitterest enemies of 
 the protestants have been chosen Deputies at Nismes. The future, 
 therefore, is not without its dangers, and the condition of the perse- 
 cuted may fluctuate with the slightest political alteration ; but which, 
 it is to be hoped, may be prevented from any acts that may again dis- 
 grace the catholic religion by the powerful expression of the public 
 mind, actuated with better principles, or by the interference of the 
 protestant influence in this or other countries. Happily, since the 
 year 1820, no fresh complaints have issued from the south of France 
 on the score of religion. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Abyssinia, persecutions in, 146. 
 
 Amca, persecutions in, 40, 48, 59. 
 
 Alban, first British martjrr, 51. 
 
 Albigenses, persecutions of, 88, — success 
 of, 93. 
 
 Algerines, inhuman conduct of, towards 
 Christians, 149. 
 
 AUin, Edmund, martyrdom of, 435. 
 
 Alphage, account of, 79. 
 
 Ambrose, George, martyrdom of, 400. 
 
 Anne, of Cleves, divorce of, 235. 
 
 Aime queen, commendable conduct of, 
 180. 
 
 Apostles, lives, sufferings and martyrdom 
 of the, 27. 
 
 Arguments for rejecting the pope's pow- 
 er, 209. 
 
 Argyle, earl o^ and followers, defeat of, 
 560. 
 
 Arian Heretics, persecutions by the, G9. 
 
 Armada, the Spanish, 501 — articles taken 
 on board the, 510. 
 
 Armstrong, Sir Thomas, execution of, 
 554. 
 
 Anas, martyrdom at, 99. 
 
 Arthur, earl of Essex, murder of, 541. 
 
 Articles, act of the six, 234. 
 
 Askew, Arme, martjrrdom o^ 243. 
 
 Assassination plot, account of the, 566. 
 
 Attack upon the Protestant churches, 586. 
 
 Atterbury's plot, 569. 
 
 Austrians, arrival at Nismes, 581. 
 
 Auto da Fe's at Madrid, 106, 107. 
 B 
 
 Benct, Thomas, persecution and martyr- 
 dom oj^ 251. 
 
 Badby, Thomas, martyrdom of, 194. 
 
 Barbarities of the inquisition in Spain and 
 Portugal, 113. 
 
 Barbarities of Jeffries in the west of Eng- 
 land, 541. 
 
 Barbary, persecutions in the states of, 149. 
 
 Barnes, Dr. Robert, martyrdom o^ 236. 
 
 Basil, martyrdom o^ 73. 
 
 Bateman, Mr. Charles, trial and execution 
 of, 559. 
 
 Beaton, cardinal, death of^ 277. 
 
 Berengarius, 83. 
 
 iiezieres, siegeof, 90. 
 
 courage of the earl o^ 90. 
 
 Bible, translation of the, proposed, 223. 
 — atte tpts to suppress the, 239. 
 
 Bilney, Thomas, martyrdom of, 217. 
 
 Bohemia, persecutions in, 129. 
 
 Borhoquia, Jane, cruel tortures of, in the 
 Inquisition, 115. 
 
 Boleyn, Anne, coronation of, as queen of 
 England, 207. 
 
 Boleyn, Aime, trial and execution of, 225, 
 
 Bongey, Cornehus, martyrdom of, 328. 
 
 Bonner, bishop, sufferings of John Phil- 
 pot under, 353 — —degradation of 
 
 Oranmer by, 387 examination of 
 
 persons, by 427 scourging of 
 
 Thomas Hinshaw by, 452, of 
 
 John Willes, 452. 
 
 BoralU, avarice and injustice o^ 86. 
 
 Bruis, Peter, 83. 
 
 Byfield, burning of, 218. 
 
 C. 
 
 Calabria, persecutions in, 150. 
 
 Campegio, arrival of, m England, 200. 
 
 Careless, John, death of, 408. 
 
 Catharme, Dutchess of Suffolk, history o£ 
 473. 
 
 Catherine, Infanta of Spain, marriage 
 of, with Henry VIII, 198— legahty 
 of her marriage doubted by that 
 monarch, 199 — appeal of, to the 
 pope, 201 — ^is left by the kuig, 204 — 
 death of, 222. 
 
 Catholic arms at Beaucaire, 574. 
 
 Causton, Thomas, martyrdom of, 313. 
 
 Cavill, 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 o^ 398. 
 
 Conceicao, Maria de, cruel tortures o^ in 
 the Inquisition, 114. 
 
 Calas, John, martyrdom o^ 181. 
 
 Conspiracies of the papists, from the revo- 
 lution to the reign of George II. 566. 
 
 Constance, council of, 133. 
 
 Cons*^antine, vision of, 64, — victory ofj 
 65 — letter of, to the king of Persia, 
 in favour of Christians, 69. 
 
 Constantinople, capture of by the infidels, 
 147. 
 
 Convocation, debates in the, 226. 
 
 Coo, Roger, martyrdom of, 327. 
 
 Corneford, John and others, martyrdom 
 of, 460. 
 
694 
 
 IWUEX. 
 
 Cornish, alderman, trial and execution 
 of, 556. 
 
 Cranmer, Thomas, account of, 202 — 
 made Archbishop of Canterbury, 
 206 — ruin of, attempted, 241— fur- 
 ther designs against. 247— charac- 
 ter o^ 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, u Vicar-Ge- 
 neral, 221— faU of, 235. 
 
 Cyprian, account of, 48. 
 
 Cyril, martyrdom of, 44. 
 D. 
 
 Dauphiny, persecutions in, 86. 
 
 Decree in China against the ioctnnes of 
 Christianity, 145. 
 
 Defence, heroic, of the Protoetenta of 
 Roras, 168. 
 
 Defence, in the Inquisition, of littls 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. 
 E. 
 
 Earl Simon defeated by the Albigenses, 
 95, 96. 
 
 Edward VI., progress of the reformation 
 in the reign of, 282 — sickness and 
 death of, 284. 
 
 Elizabeth, princess, birth of, 208— mira- 
 culous preservation of, 487. 
 
 Emperor Ferdinand, cruet persecution by, 
 130. 
 
 England, reformation m, when begun, 
 190 — progress of the reformation in, 
 in the reign of Henry VIII. 196. 
 F. 
 
 Fabian, martyrdom of, 42. 
 
 Fau'fax, Thomas, scourging of, 464. 
 
 Faith, St. martyrdom of, 52. 
 
 Farrar, Dr. Robert, martyrdom of, 315. 
 
 Females, monstrous outrage upon, 580. 
 
 Ferdinand, emperor, persecution by, 130. 
 
 Fisher, bishop, account oj^ 212, 215. 
 
 Fortitude, a noble example of, 56. 
 
 Fortune, John, martyrdom of, 404. 
 
 France, persecution in, 83, 98 — horrible 
 massacre in, A. D. 1572, 125 — per- 
 secution in, in the 16th and 17th 
 century, 177. 
 
 Frith, martyrdom o£ 219. 
 G. 
 
 Galerius, persecutions by, 61. 
 
 Geddes, Dr., his account of an Auto da 
 Fe, 107. 
 
 George, St. martyrdom of, 64, 
 
 Georgia and Mingrelia, persecutions in, 
 149. 
 
 Germany, persecutions in, 129, 139. 
 Gianavel, Joshua, noble conduct of^ 177. 
 Glover, Robert, martyrdom of, 328. 
 Gore, James, death of 349. 
 Goths and Vandals, persecutions by, 75. 
 Green, Thomas, scourging of, 469. 
 Gre)"-, Lady Jane, declaration of, as queer% 
 
 Guernsey, martyrdom of tliree women and 
 infant in, 418. 
 
 Gvmpowder plot,' by the Papists, accoimt 
 of the, 512. 
 
 H. 
 
 Hamilton, Patrick, martyrdom of, 265, 
 
 Henricians, why so called, 83. 
 
 Henry III. assassination of, 177. 
 
 Henry IV., submission of, to Pope Gre- 
 gory, 188. 
 
 JHenry VlII. history of his marriage with 
 Catherine, 198 — with Anne Bolcyn, 
 296 — with Jane Seymour, 226 — with 
 Catherine Howard, 239— with Ca- 
 therine Parr, ib. — sickness and death 
 of, 250. 
 
 Heresy, what, 103. 
 
 Higbed, Thomas, martyrdom of, 313. 
 
 Holland, Roger, History, &c. of, 444. 
 
 Holloway, Mr. James, execution of, 552. 
 
 Hooper, bishop, sufferings and martyrdom 
 of, 293. 
 
 Howard, queen Catherine, execution o^ 
 239. 
 
 Hunt, John, condemnation of, 461. 
 
 Hunter, William, martyrdom of, 311. 
 
 Huss, John, Ufe, sufferings, and martyr- 
 dom of, 132. 
 
 Hylas, a pagan, cruel conduct of, towards 
 his son, 53. 
 
 I. 
 
 Ignatius, bishop of Antioch, martyrdom 
 of, 34. 
 
 Images, impostures of, discovered, 232. 
 
 Inquisition, origin of, 85, 102 — officers ol^ 
 103 — sentence of, 105 — mode of tor- 
 turing in, 109, 111 — barbarities ofj 
 in Spain and Portugal, 113. 
 
 Inquisitor, horrid treacherjr of an, 113. 
 
 Interference of the British government, 
 588. 
 
 Interview of the kings of England and 
 France, 206. 
 
 Irenaeus, bishop of Lyons, martyrdom of, 
 40. 
 
 Italy, mart3T:doms in various parts oij 159. 
 
 Jackson, John, examination of, 430. 
 
 Japan, persecutions in, 145. 
 
 Jerome, of Prague, life, sufferings, and 
 
 martyrdom of, 136. 
 John, king, surrender of his crown to 
 
 the pope, 189. 
 Johnson, Rev. Mr., sufferings of, 560. 
 Julian, the apostate, persecutions under, 
 
 72— death o^ 75. 
 Justin, martyrdom of, 37. 
 
 Kent, story of the Nvm of; 212. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 595 
 
 King of England, proclamation of, as 
 
 Tiead of the church, 315. 
 Knight, Stephen, martyrdom o^ 313. 
 J-<* 
 
 Lambert, John, martyrdom of, 233. 
 
 Lateran, council of, 96. 
 
 Latimer, Hugh, life, sufferings, and mar- 
 tjrrdom of, 333, burning of, 344. 
 
 Laurence, St., martyrdom of, 47. 
 
 Lawrence, Rev. John, martyrdom of, 313. 
 
 Letters from Louvois to Marillac, 576. 
 
 LLneolnsliire, riBbeHion in, 230. 
 
 Lithgon, William, life and sufferings of, 
 118. 
 
 Lithuania, persecutions in, 143. 
 
 Lollards, persecutions of, 197. 
 
 Loseby, Thomas, and others, martyrdom 
 of, 431. 
 
 Louis XIV., inhuman conduct of, 179. 
 
 Louis XVIII., the arrival o^ at Paris, 
 572 — decree of, in favour of the per- 
 secuted, 578. 
 
 Luther, progress of the doctrines of, 198. 
 'M. 
 
 Mahomet, account of, 147. 
 
 Marsh, Rev. George, martyrdom of, 319. 
 
 Martin, Isaac, trial and sufferings of, 116. 
 
 Martyrdom, of three sisters, 59 of 
 
 Theodotus and others, 60 — in Na- 
 ples, 63 — of St. George, 64 — of Si- 
 meon and others, 67 — of Basil 73 — 
 at Arras, 99— of John Galas, 181— 
 of Thomas Badby, 194— of Sir John- 
 Oldcastle, 195 — of Thomas Bilney, 
 217— of Frith, 219— of John Lam- 
 bert, 223— of Robert Barnes, 236— 
 of Anne Askewr, 243 — of William 
 Tmdall, 258— of Patrick Hamilton, 
 265— of George Wishart, 268— of 
 Walter Mille, 279— of John Rogers, 
 289 — of Laurence Saunders, 290 — 
 of Bishop Hooper, 293 — of Dr. Row- 
 land Taylor, 301— of Thomas Tom- 
 kins, 309— of WilUam Hunter, 311 
 —of Thomas Higbed, 313— of Tho- 
 mas Causton and others, 313 — of 
 Dr. Farrar, 315 — of Rawhns Wliite, 
 317— of George Marsh, 319— of 
 Margaret Policy, 323— of Robert Sa- 
 muel, 325 — of Robert Glover, Corne- 
 lius Bongey, William Wolsey, Ro- 
 bert Pigot, 328 — of Hugh Latimer, 
 Nicholas Ridley^33— of John Webb, 
 George Roper, Gregory Parke, 348 — 
 William Wiseman, James Gore, 
 John Philpot, 349 — of Archbishop 
 Cranmer, 397 — of John Maundrel, 
 William Coberly, John Spicer, 398 — 
 of Richard and Thomas Spurg, John 
 Cavil, George Ambrose, Robert 
 Drake, William Tims, 400— of John 
 Fortune, 404 — of John Careless, 408 
 — of Julius Palmer and others, 412 — 
 of Joan Waste, 422~-of Loseby and 
 others, 431— of Edmund Allin, 435— 
 of Rev. John Rough and Margaret 
 Maring, 440— of Robert Mills and 
 
 others, 443— of Henry Pond and 
 others, 444— of Elizabeth Prest,454— 
 of John Corneford and others, 460. 
 Martyrdoms, numerous, 100, 327— vari- 
 ous, 423— in Italy, 159— in England, 
 309. ^ 
 
 Martyrdom of six persons, 267. 
 Mary, accession of, to the throne of Eng- 
 land, 285 — coronation of, 288 — san- 
 guinary proceedings of, ib. — death of, 
 462 — character of, 463. . 
 
 Massacre, horrible, of Christian soldiers, 
 50 — in France, 125 — in Japan, 146 — 
 barbarous, of protestants in Ireland, 
 bl7— at Nismes, 574. 
 
 Maundrel, John, martyrdom of, 398. 
 
 Maximus and Licinius, death of, 65. 
 
 Meal tub plot, account of, 540. 
 
 Mille, Walter, martyrdom of, 2^9. 
 
 Molinos, Michael de, persecution of, 174 
 — sentence against, 177. 
 
 Monasteries, general visitation of the, 221 
 —suppression of, 223, 229, 231. 
 
 Monmouth, duke of, insurrection, defeat, 
 and death of^ 560. 
 
 Moor, Thomas, martyrdom of, 420. 
 
 More, Sir Thomas, account of, 212, 215. 
 
 Murder of General La Garde, 587. 
 N. 
 
 Naples, martyrdom in, 63. 
 
 Napoleon's return from the isle of Elba, 
 573. 
 
 Netherlands, persecutions in the, 141. 
 
 Nismes, massacre and pillage at, 574 — 
 further account of the proceedings of 
 the protestants at, 584— -ultimate re- 
 solution of the protestants at, 591. 
 
 Northumberland, Duke of, beheaded, 288. 
 O. 
 
 OldCastle, Sir John, martyrdom of, 195. 
 
 Orange, assassination of the prince of, 143. 
 
 Origen, account of, 45. 
 
 Orobio, Isaac, cruel tortures of, in the in- 
 quisition, 115. 
 
 Outrages conunitted in the villages around 
 Nismes, 582. 
 
 P. 
 
 Palmer, Julius, and others, sufferings of, 
 412. 
 
 Papists, horrid plot of, for burning the 
 city of London, 532. 
 
 Parr, Catherine, marriage of, with Henry 
 VIII. 246— interesting conversation 
 of) with the king, 248. 
 
 Paul, persecution of, 70. 
 
 Paul, third, proposal of, to Henry VIII. 
 to be reconciled, 226. 
 
 Perjury m the case of General Gilley, 589. 
 
 Perpetua, singular fortitude of, 40. 
 
 Persecution, the first primitive, under 
 Nero, 32 — second, under Domitian, 
 33 — third, under the Roman empe- 
 rors, 34 — fourth, under the same, 35 
 — fifth, 39 — sixtli, 41 — seventh, 42 — 
 eighth, 46— ninth, 49— tenth, 53. 
 
 of earl of Toulouse, ^— of Mi- 
 chael de Molinos, 174. 
 
596 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Persecutions by the Arian Heretics, 69 — 
 under Julian, the apostate, 73 — by 
 Goths and Vandals, 75— from the 
 fifth to the seventh century, 77— in 
 the eleventh century, 79— of the Wal- 
 denses in France, 83— in Dauphiny, 
 86— of the Albigenses, 88— in Bohe- 
 mia and Germany, 129— in the Ne- 
 therlands, 140— in Lithuania, 143— 
 in China and Japan, 144— in Aby;s- 
 
 sinia, 146 in Turkey, 147 in 
 
 Georgia and Mingreha, 149— in Bar- 
 bary, 149— in Calabria, 150— in Pied- 
 mont, 153 — in Venice, 158 — in the 
 marquisate of Saluces, 161 — in Pied- 
 mont, in the 17th century, 162 — of 
 the Gluietists, 176 — of the Protestants 
 in France, 177 — of the Lollards, 197 
 • — in England, during the reign of 
 Mary, 285, &c. — of many emment 
 protestant patriots in the reigns of 
 Charles II. and James II., 541 — of 
 the French Protestants in the south 
 of France, during the years 1814 and 
 1820, 571. 
 
 Persecutors, vengeance of God towards, 
 66. 
 
 Persia, persecutions in, 67. 
 
 Philpot, John, history and martyrdom of, 
 349. 
 
 Pianessa, marquis of, inhuman conduct of 
 the, 168. 
 
 Piedmont, persecutions in the valleys of, 
 153 — in the 17th century, 162. 
 
 Pigot, Robert, martyrdom of, 330. 
 
 Pigot, William, martyrdom of, 306. 
 
 Polley, Margaret, first female martyr in 
 England, 323. 
 
 Polycarpus, martyrdom of, 36. 
 
 Pond, Henry, and others, martyrdom of, 
 444. 
 
 Pope, power of, rejected by thf English 
 parliament, 210. 
 
 Popes, causes of their great ascendancy, 
 187. 
 
 Popish Plot, account of, 537. 
 
 Portugal, inquisition of, 108. 
 
 Preaching, method of, 339. 
 
 Prest, Elizabeth, martyrdom o^ 454. 
 
 Process, mode olj in the inquisition, 104. 
 
 Protestant religion in Ireland, rise and 
 progressof the, 517, 532. 
 
 — — refugees, petition of, to Louis 
 
 XVIII., 579. 
 
 Protestants, interference of government 
 against the, 575. 
 
 duadratus, learned apology o^ S5. 
 Gluietists, persecutions of the, 176. 
 
 R. 
 Rack, cruel tortures of the, 114. 
 RebelUons and plots, in the reigns of 
 
 Anne, George I. and II. 573. 
 Reconciliation, proposal of, to Henry VIII. 
 
 by Paul the Tliird, 226. 
 Reformation, progress of the, in the reign 
 
 of Henry VIII. 196— advocates o^ 
 
 faTOured by the English court, 220 — 
 progress of, in the reign of Edward 
 VI. 283. 
 
 Religion, act concerning, 240. 
 
 Rhodes, attack on, 148. 
 
 Ricci, efforts of, to introduce Christiani<y 
 into China, 144. 
 
 Ridley, Nicholasj martyrdofii of, 333 — 
 burning of, 344. 
 
 Rochelle, surrender o^ 178. 
 
 Rogers, John, martyrdom o^ 289. 
 
 Romanus, martyrdom of, 58. 
 
 Roper, George, martyrdom ofj 348. 
 
 Roras, heroic defence of the Protestants 
 of, 168. 
 
 Rough, Rev. John, martyrdom ofj 440. 
 S. 
 
 Saluces, persecutions in the marquisate 
 of, 16L 
 
 Samuel, Rev. Robert, martyrdom o^ 325 
 
 Sands, Dr., troubles and deliverance o^' 
 480. 
 
 Saunders, Laurence, martyrdom of, 290^ 
 
 Saviour, history of, 25. 
 
 Schism in the chiurch of Rome, 191i 
 
 Scotland, persecution in, 265. 
 
 Silver child, the history of the, 572. 
 
 Simeon, martyrdom o^ 67. 
 
 Solyman the First, cruel conduct o^ 148; 
 
 Spicer, John, martyrdom of, 398. 
 
 Spurg, Thomas, martyrdom o^ 400. 
 
 Stanislaus, account o^. 81. 
 
 Supremacy of the Roman Pontiffs, th» 
 year which marks the, 187. 
 T. 
 
 Taylor, Dr. Rowland, sufferings and mar- 
 tyrdom of, 301. 
 
 Testament, new translation of, into Engr 
 lish, 215. 
 
 Theodotus, martyrdom o^ 60. 
 
 Thomas Tomkins, martyrdom of, 309. 
 
 Tilly, Count, monstrous cruelties of, 140. 
 
 Timothy, disciple of Paul, cruel death of, 
 33. 
 
 Tims, William, martyrdom o^ 400. 
 
 Tindal, translation of the New Testa- 
 ment by, 215— life and martyrdom of, 
 258. 
 
 Torturing, first, second, and third time 
 of torturing in the inquisition, 109, 
 110, 111. 
 
 Toulouse, earl of, persecuted, 88— excom- 
 municated, 93 — treacherously seized, 
 97— surrendeiof, 94 — recovejy of, 96. 
 
 Tunis, manner far which a Christian is 
 treated at, 150. 
 
 Turin, propositions of the parliament o^ 
 to the Waldenses, 155. 
 V. 
 
 Valerian, emperor, fate ofj 49. 
 
 Venice, persecutions in, 158. 
 
 Vienna, siege of, 148. 
 
 Visitation to all the churches and monaa- 
 teries, 221, 229, 231. 
 
 Walcot, Hone, and Rouse, trial and exe- 
 cution of, 549. 
 
 Waldenses, persecutionsof the, in France 
 
INDEX. 
 
 597 
 
 83 — tenets of, 84 — sufferings o^ 86 — 
 
 noWe reply o^ to the paxuament of 
 
 Turin, 155. 
 Waldo, Peter, account of, 83, 85. 
 Waste, Joan, martyrdom o^ 422. 
 Webb, John, martyrdom o^ 348. 
 White, Rawlins, martyrdom o^ 317. 
 Wickliffe, account o^ 190— translation of 
 
 the bible by, 191. 
 Wickliffites, bimiing of, 181. 
 William, Lord Russel trial and execution 
 
 0)^542. 
 
 Wilmot, Richard, scourging o^ 464. 
 
 Wiseman, William, death o^ 349. 
 
 Wishart, George, life, sufferings, and mar- 
 tyrdom o^ 268. 
 
 Wolsey, cardinal, character of, 196 — dis- 
 graced, 202. 
 
 Wol^y, William, martyrdom o^ 330. 
 
 Xist, St. affecting history of the inhabi- 
 tants o£ 151. 
 
 Y. 
 Yorkshire, rebellion in, 230. 
 
 4 
 
i 
 
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