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FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH
All Account of the Sufferings of the English
Francissg,ns during the i6th and ijtk Centuries,
from Contemporary Records

J. M. STONE

With an Appendix, containing a Short History of the
Franciscan Convent (Third Order) at Taunton,
founded bv Father Gennings in 1631

AND A PREFACE
By the rev. J. MORRIS, SJ.

LONDON
KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO., Ltd.
paternoster house, charing cross road
1892

^I'FUSffFr WITH THE APPROVAL OF THE FJSHOF OF
OLIFTOX.

PREFACE.

As the following pages tell us, the Franciscan Friars first
came to England in 1224. The new-comers were nine in
number, of whom five became the founders of a convent at
Canterbury, while two were allotted to London and two
to Oxford. The monks of Fescamp sent them over from
France, the Dominicans received them on their first arrival
in London and Oxford, while the Canterbury contingent
were housed in the first instance at the Priory of the Holy
Trinity and then in the Poor Priests' Hospital, where the
Catholic School is now held in that ancient metropolitan
city. Starting for themselves did not cost them much,
for the spirit of St. Francis came with his Friars into
England, and the poverty of their foundations would have
satisfied even their Seraphic Father.
Within thirty years after their arrival, we are told by
Mr. Brewer, their numbers in this country alone amounted
to 1242, and they counted 49 convents in England. With
equal rapidity, he says, they passed into Ireland and
Scotland, where they were received with equal favour ;
and this he rightly calls " an instance of religious organiza
tion and propagandism unexampled in the annals of the
world, the more remarkable because they were specially
enjoined by their founder to uphold the dignity and
authority of the 'Roman See." Brother Albert of Pisa,

PREFACE.

who had been Provincial in England, when, as fourth
General of the Friars Minor, he came to die in Rome,
praised the English above all nations for their zeal for the
Order. And John of Parma, the eighth General, who
visited England, and held a Provincial Chapter at Oxford,
frequently exclaimed, " Would that such a Province had
been set in the midst of the world to be an example to all
the Churches."
It is very clear that the English had a great affection for
the Order of St. Francis. An Englishman was numbered
amongst the first followers' of the Saint, whom we only
know by name as Brother William. Of the nine Friars
spoken of above, who brought the Franciscan habit into
FIngland, four only were priests, and of these four three were
Englishmen. And the extraordinarily rapid expansion of
the Friars Minor in England was due, not to an importa
tion of foreigners, but to the multitude of Englishmen who
found vocations, and to English admiration for the extreme
personal poverty and unworldliness of the Franciscan rule.
The English who had no such vocation could appreciate the
spirit of those who had, and kings and burgesses vied with
one another in the zeal with which they provided land,
houses, and maintenance, for those who cast themselves in
all simplicity on the charity of the faithful. The corpora
tions of the towns became trustees, ready to take charge
of the alms of the people in behalf of the Friars, who
refused to possess property or to make any permanent
provision for the future.
It is not to be wondered at that the Franciscan was
popular. He lived for the people and for the poorest of
the people. What is singular is that men who devoted
themselves to the instruction of the poorest and most
ignorant, were also to be enrolled amongst the greatest

PREFACE.

promoters of learning in our national universities. A
book just published for the Oxford Historical Society at
the Clarendon Press bears honourable witness to the work
done by the Franciscans at Oxford. The title of the book
is " The Grey Friars in Oxford," by Andrew G. Little, of
Balliol College, and it not only contains a history of the
convent, but also biographical notices of the Friars. This
book, like Mr. Brewer's preface to the " Monumenta
Franciscana," is a striking testimony to the spirit of fair
ness with which historical studies are now carried on by
scholars. Mr. Little's book treats of a house that did not
join itself to the Strict Observance, which early in the six
teenth century was happily introduced into England. Of
the sixty convents at that time in England there were but
six, or at most twelve, that accepted the Strict Observance ;
but these convents of the Observants presented, when the
hand of the monarch tyrannically dissolved them, as ad
mirable an example of fervour as their forefathers had
shown on their first entry into England in the lifetime of
St. PYancis. That Henry VIII. had no ground of com
plaint against them, except indeed, their fervour in their
religion and their fidelity to the true Head of the CathoHc
Church, is proved by his own bounty bestowed upon them
before the desire of a divorce had arisen in his mind. To
Henry VII., his father, they had been not less dear, and
two or three of the Observant convents were founded by
him. Of these, Greenwich held the post of honour, and
a considerable portion of the work of the following pages
tells the tale of the brave Friars of Greenwich.
The fidelity of the noble Greenwich Friars, who share
with the holy monks of the London Charterhouse the
o-lory of saving the fame of the religious of England in
the day of trial, well merits for this book the title that has

PREFACE

been given to it of " Faithful unto Death." That glorious
fidelity is shown not less in the province that arose upon
the ruins of the ancient order in England. Of the
English martyrs of the later time some of the most heroic
belonged to the province that owed its existence to Father
John Gennings. Himself the brother of a martyr, con
verted by that brother's martyrdom, he was worthy to
revive the labours in England of the Friars minor, and he
was followed by men whose names the Church will never
let die. Several of them have the title of "Venerable"
accorded to them ; and if this book helps to increase the
devotion of Catholics to these and their fellow-martyrs, it
will be very efficiently forwarding their much desired
beatification. The only reason why these holy martyrs
do not share with Blessed John Forest the privilege of the
altars is that the concessions of Pope Gregory XIII. were
granted before they suffered. Their canonization must
be obtained by the long and laborious process in which
no step is omitted, but we have no reason for regretting
this, excepting the time that must necessarily elapse
before it is complete. However, all the English martyrs
will proceed together, and those now enjoying the title and
the honours of the blessed will not be canonized saints
before those who now are called Venerable. May God
speed the day.
The province founded by Father John Gennings lasted
until our time, and died with its last survivor, Father
O'Fan-ell, in 1876. Happily for England, many sons of
St. Francis, of various religious families, have taken their
place, and their seraphic founder will look on them as the
inheritors of the blessings and graces purchased by the
heroism of the Franciscans whose saintly story is here
told.

PREFACE.

But the most direct heir of the sanctity of the martyred
English Franciscans is the Convent of the Third Order of
St. Francis now existing at Taunton. It was founded as
an enclosed convent of English Franciscan nuns by Father
John Gennings in 1621 ; and it commenced at Brussels,
was afterwards transferred to Nieuport, and thence to
Bruges, where in their convent, called Prinsenhof, the
Sisters remained from 1664 till they were driven out of
it by the French Revolution in 1794. The convent had
i ts first home in England at Winchester, and eleven years
later it was removed to Taunton. It is to the filial love
of these devout daughters of St. Francis that the present
effort is due, to keep alive the holy memory of their
spiritual ancestry. In their convent choir they are privi
leged to preserve with pious care a noble collection of
relics, chiefly of martyred fathers of the old Franciscan
province. With like reverence the Reverend Mother
Abbess and her community have endeavoured to store up
for after times the historical traditions of the lives and
deaths of those holy men. They have been fortunate in
finding a skilful and sympathetic hand to further their
purpose, and the result for which we may confidently
look will surely be an increase of loving veneration
amongst us for those to whom we English Catholics are so
deeply indebted. At their request I have written tliese
few poor prefatory lines. John Morrks, S.J.

CONTENTS. CHAPTER 1.
The Price of a Sacrament, 1532 — 1534 . . . i

PAGE

CHAPTER II.
Supreme Head, 1534 — 1537 . . -27
CHAPTER III.
Blessed John Forest, 147 i — 1538 . 46
CHAPTER iV.
Progress of the Persecution, 1537 — 1539 . . 71
CHAPTER V.
War and Peace, 1547 — 1559 . 89
CHAPTER VI.
The Hidden Province, 1559 — 1617 . . . 105
CHAPTER VII.
Martyrs of the Second Province, 1604 — 1642 . . 121
CHAPTER VIII.
The Ven. Henry Heath, 1600 — 1643 . . . .154

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER IX.

PAGE

The Ven. Arthur Bell, 1590 — 1643 .... 177
CHAPTER X.
The Ven. John Woodcocke, Ven. John Wall, Ven.
Charles Mahony, Father Paul Atkinson,
1603 — 1729 ........ 209
Appendix  243

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

CHAPTER I.
THE PRICE OK A SACRAMENT.
1532-1534-
The hLstory of the religious persecution under Henry
VIII., is the history of the King's personal character, and
the result of one man's ambition, sensuality, and pride.
Henry was a better Papist than most of his subjects, until
the Papacy came athwart his desires ; and the repudia
tion of Catherine was the outcome of a whole category of
sins, fostered by the atmosphere of licentiousness with
which he surrounded himself.
The Franciscans were the most active of all the religious
Orders in upholding the lawfulness of his marriage, and
they were the first to feel the weight of his displeasure.
At the beginning of his reign he had shown them special
favour, had written more than once to the Pope on their
behalf, declaring that he had the most deep and devoted
affection towards them, and that he found it quite impossi
ble to describe their merits as they deserved. They pre
sented, he said, an ideal of Christian poverty, sincerity,
and charity ; their lives were devoted to fasting, watching,
prayer ; and they were occupied in hard toil, by night and
day, to win sinners back to God.' ¦
Not content with mere words, he had granted them a
pension of one thousand crowns yearly, towards the main
tenance of those members of their Order who kept the
' Ellis, " Grig. LcUeis," 3rcl Series, voL i. p. 165.

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

Holy Places in Palestine. Henry had inherited this affection
for the Franciscan Friars from his father, who had founded
two of their houses, and completely rebuilt others, so that
he may almost be considered the founder of these also.
It was to the Franciscans of the Regular Observance,
that Henry's eulogy referred — to those communities which,
casting off the privileges and relaxations granted to the
Order by various Pontiffs, more especially with regard to
the vow of poverty, had returned to the primitive strictness
of the rule as given by St. Francis.
The Observants were, in the telling phraseology of the
Anglican Church historian, Fuller,^ " no distinct metal "
from those who retained their privileges, " but different
from them as steel from iron."
In 1 5 17 all the congregations of the Reformed Francis
cans were united into one body of Regular Observance,
and placed under a Superior of their own. Of the sixty
houses of Franciscans or Grey Friars in England, six ^ had
^ Brewer's edition, p. 272.
' F. Parkinson, quoting Gonzaga (" CoU. Angl. Min." p. 212), says
there were twelve convents in England, built for or given to the
Observants, but as in the whole history of the persecution only six
are mentioned by name, it is possible that in the re-organization of
the Franciscan houses in Henry VII th's reign, some of the smaller
ones may have been merged into others. These six houses are all
mentioned in the will of Henry VII. as follows: "Where we always
have had a special confidence and trust in the devout prayers of the
Friars Observants of this our realm, for our good and prosperous
estate, in this present life, and that we be very desirous to have the
same for the weal of our soul and the remission of our sins, after our
decease, to the intent that they may have the better cause and the
more largely be bounden, heartily and devoutly so to do, we will
that our executors bestow and employ to the behoof of our house of
the Friars at Greenwich, being of our foundation, for the closing of
their garden and orchard or about other things as by the father and
the rulers of the said house shall be thought most consonant to the
laud of God and health of our soul and the weal of the said house
and friars, ;^20o ; to the house of Richmond, being in like wise of
one foundation, ;£20o; and to every of the houses of the said
Observants, of Canterbury, Southampton and Newcastle, C marks.
And over this, whereas the said Friars Observants have no posses
sions or other goods, wherewith to sustain their lives with meat,
drink, and clothing, nor for the renewing of their books, chalices'
vestments and other ornamejits for the service of God, nor for

THE PRICE OF A SACRAMENT.

placed themselves under the rule of the Strict Observ
ance, and a short notice of each of these foundations
may not be out of place here. The' most ancient of
their foundations was at Canterbury, where five of the
nine friars who came into England in 1224 established
themselves, by the direction of Henry III. They built
the first convent of their Order in England, on a piece of
ground " near the poor priests' hospital," from whence
John Diggs, an alderman, removed them in 1270, to
an island called Bynnewith, in the west part of the city.
This foundation remained in the hands of the Grey Friars
till the dissolution of the religious houses " under Henry
VIII., his father having made it over to the Observants.
Next in antiquity to Canterbury was the convent at
Southampton. In the south-east part of the town, near the
wall, says Leland, was a house or college of Grey Friars,
settled here in 1240. It was given to the Observants
by Henry VII., and Speed therefore considers him as the
founder, both of this convent and the one at Canterbury.*
the reparation of their churches and houses, but only of the alms,
devotion and charity of Christian people, whereby, though the same
friars be sometimes and for the more part sufficiently after their
necessity succoured, relieved and purveyed, yet know we experiment
ally by the secret conversation that we have had with the said
Friars, that had not been other privy succours and reliefs divers
times made to them in their extremity, they had divers and many
times been in peril of ruin and danger of perdition for lack of food,
the which inconveniences and dangers, we, for our long-continued
devotion towards St. Francis their patron, and our charity towards
the Order of the said friars inwardly considering and greatly desiring
in due time to provide the remedy, we will and ordain that our
executors deliver ;^200 to the convent of the Friars Observants of
Canterbury, /200 to the convent of Greenwich, 500 marks to that of
Richmond, ;^2oo to the convent of Southampton, ;^20o to the convent
of Newcastle, and ;^200 to the convent that by our aid is newly begun
in the town of Newark. The houses of Richmond and Greenwich
shall cause to be said, for the remission of our sins, 500 Masses,
and the other four houses 300 Masses." — Will of King Henry VII.
dated at Canterbury, loth April, 24 Hen. VII. (a.d. 1509), A con
temporary copy of this will is to be seen in the Record Office. On the
first anniversary of his father's death, Henry VIII. visited Greenwich
and gave the friars ;^8 ds. 8d. for 500 Masses.
* Tanner, " Notitia Monastica," p. 221.
5 " Coll. Angl. Min." pt. ii. p. 39- B 2

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

At Greenwich was the most famous of all the houses
of Observants in England. It was founded as late as
1480, on the site of a monastery given to the Domini
cans by Henry V., after he had banished its Minorite
occupants as " aliens." Henry VII. restored it to the
Franciscan Order and filled it with Observants. It was
to consist of a warden and at least twelve brethren.'
At Newcastle was another ancient friary, established
before the year 1 300. " By Pandon Gate, stood the Grey
Friars' house, a very fair thing of the Cairluelle's founda
tion." ' Duns Scotus is said to have taken the habit at
Newcastle, before going to Oxford. The Observants were
placed here by Henry VII., who also built them a house
at Newark, and one also at Richmond in Surrey, about the
year 1499.* Of these two last alone it may be said, strictly
speaking, that they were foundations of Henry VII.
In showing himself an ardent friend of the Franciscans,
Henry VIII. was well advised, for they rendered most
valuable service to the nation at large. Independently of
all that learning and civilization owed to them, they were
the providence of the poor and suffering. Prisons,
dungeons and lazar-houses were their haunts of predi
lection ; no forms of disease or misery were strangers to
them. They were to be seen in the midst of battles and
sieges, administering the consolations of religion to the
sick and dying. Their houses were set up side by side
with the homes of squalor and vice, teaching by their
lowly aspect the sanctification of poverty. They had,
indeed, neither house nor home, except as they held it
from the charity of others. One of the cradles of the
Order in England was near the shambles at Newgate, on
a spot not inappropriately called "Stinking Lane." No
^"Charter, Henry VII. p. 24.
^ Leland, " Itin." vol. viii. p. 40. See also Bourne's " History of
Newcastle." * Tanner, " Notitia Monastica," p. 412. " Pandon written by mis
take for Pilgrim," Mackenzie's " History of Newcastle," vol. i. p. 130.

THE PRICE OF A SACRAMENT.

life was so hard but the friar's was harder, and when
persecution came, it found him acclimatized to suffering.
But although the love of poverty moved him to throw
in his lot with the lowly and wretched, the rich and power
ful sought him out'; and it redounds to his glory, perhaps
more than all the heroism with which he faced pestilence,
leprosy, and every revolting form of disease and death,
that in the palace, as in the hovel, he did not swerve from
fidelity to his trust.
But if men such as these were a shining light in the
midst of the kind of darkness in which the poor lived, they
were a reproach to all the false glitter and the newly
brought in luxury of Henry's Court. It was inevitable
that they should place themselves in stern opposition to
his lust and pride, and it was equally inevitable that they
should share the fate of all those who at that miserable
period of our history loved justice more than life. Un
spoilt by prosperity, their consciences unclouded by self-
interest, Henry found them far more difficult to deal with
than either the Universities or the monks. They were
intimidated by no threats, no promise of preferment led
them astray. The most popular preachers were to be
found in their ranks, and the King knew that while they
were allowed to preach, the people would be told the truth,
however much he tried to deceive them. The Observants'
house at Greenwich was destined to play an important
part in after events. It adjoined the royal palace, and
Queen Catherine, who was herself a tertiary of St. Francis,
was accustomed to rise at midnight, and to be present
in the church at the Divine Office while the friars sang
Matins and Lauds. Under her royal robes she is said to
have worn the habit and the knotted cord of St.
Francis.^ She chose as her confessor Blessed John
Forest, warden of Greenwich, and, according to the opinions
of some writers, sometime English Provincial of the Order.^
» Sander, Eng. ed., p. 7. ' Lansdowne MS. 979, fol. 143.

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

Neither the vicinity of the palace nor the presence
of the King was a barrier to the outspoken opposi
tion of the friars to Henry's contemplated divorce.
" They indeed," wrote Sander, " both in public dispu
tations and in their sermons, most earnestly maintained
that the marriage of Catherine was good and lawful." As
might have been expected, they soon became obnoxious
to Henry on account of their persistence in seeking to
allay his " scruples."
The first warning of the coming storm was given in
1532, when, writing to the Minister-General of the Order
at Paris, he desired that the English Provincial might
be turned out of his office, and that Father John de la
Haye, whom he knew and liked, might be sent in his
place. The Minister-General replied that he had no
power to remove provincials, but that he would send De la
Haye as his commissary. The name of the friar who had
excited the King's displeasure does not appear, and there
is some obscurity in the succession of provincials about
this time, but there can be little doubt that Father John
Forest was meant. It is certain that Henry regarded him
with suspicion, and considered that he was responsible for
Catherine's opposition to his proceedings. Already in
1527 she had been aware of his attempts to prove their
marriage invalid, although it was thought that the matter
had been kept secret,^ and she had appealed to Rome, in
spite of all the King's party could do, to have the cause
tried by judges appointed by Henry himself. He would
probably have proceeded at once to a divorce and second
marriage, but for some wholesome fear he then enter
tained of the Queen's nephew, the Emperor Charles V.
Chapuys, the Imperial ambassador, writing to the Emperor
in a letter dated Oct. i6th, 1 531, gives an account of a
royal commission, sent to the Queen at the More, a house
formerly belonging to the Abbot of St. Alban's, but
= " Anne Boleyn," by Paul Friedmann, vol. i. p. 53.

THE PRICE OF A SACRAMENT.

which Henry had seized, and to which she had retired
when ordered to leave the Court. The commission was
composed of Dr. Lee, Archbishop elect of York, the Earl
of Essex, the Treasurer Fitzwilliam and Dr. Sampson.
Catherine told them that while she thought the King's
scruples good and honest, she had urged him to assemble
the bishops, and put them on their oath to speak the truth,
and whatever they said should be observed ; but this he
had refused, saying that he wanted no other decision but
that of justice. Now, however, knowing that he was not
moved by a scruple, but by passion, she would not be
so ill-advised as to consent to a compromise, and to have
the cause tried in England, where everybody would be
suborned to consent to the King's wishes.''
Meanwhile Anne Boleyn had become all-powerful.
She took the Queen's place on every public occasion, and
had been created Marchioness of Pembroke as a prepara
tion for further honours. She was extremely unpopular,
except among a small party at Court, but she had secret
agents all over the country, bound to her by present
bribes and the hope of future advancement. They were
to be found even in the houses of the Observants, so con
spicuous by their devotion to the Queen's cause. Richard
Lyst, a lay-brother at Greenwich, carried on a secret but
active correspondence with her and Cromwell.
The tone of his letters* is throughout disturbed and
anxious. He is conscious that he has "some learning
and intelligence," and has often spoken and answered in
the King's cause and hers, for which he has suffered
rebukes and some trouble, but " it has been rather comfort
than otherwise, and so it should be to every true lover in
the cause of his friend." He has, he says, often been
called in derision Anne's chaplain, but he has not yet
taken priest's orders, although it is his ambition to do so,
= Gairdner, Calendar v. No. 478.
* They are to be found among the Cotton MSS., Cleopatra E. iv.
fol. 28, and in print in Ellis's " Orig. Letters," 3rd Series, vol. ii.

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

hoping to say one hundred Masses for her prosperous
state, spiritual and corporal. He is free now, he declares,
to enter that state, because a young woman to whom he
was " made sure in the way of marriage, before coming
into religion, is departed to the mercy of God." Such a
letter to such a person as Anne, naturally concludes with
a petition. He is forty shillings in debt, for clothes and
other things for his mother.
Another letter gives us a glimpse into the monastery,
and shows us the curious workings of the writer's mind.
It is addressed to Cromwell, and he speaks of " the offence
done against the King and my Lady Marquess of Pembroke,
by some of our family," such as Fathers Peyto, Elstow,
Forest and others. Father Forest is the special object
of Lyst's aversion. " Sir," he writes, " your Mastership
shall understand that P"ather Forest, which doth neither
love nor favour you, hath laboured divers ways to
supplant and bring Father Larans, which is the King's
faithful, true subject, out of favour, both with the King's
Grace and with all our fathers and brothers, and also, as
much as in him is, to expulse him out of our convent of
Greenwich ; and his original and chief cause is, because
he knoweth that Father Larans is provided, and will also
preach the King's matter, whensoever it shall please his
Grace to command him ; and so the very truth is, that
Father Forest will not preach the King's matter himself,
nor yet suffer Father Larans by his will so to do."
There is much more in the same strain. " Father
Larans " was probably a certain Friar Laurence, whom
Father Forest apparently succeeded in turning out. There
is a letter among the Cotton manuscripts from John
Laurence to Cromwell, relative to his return to his
cloister, the King having seemingly ordered the Green
wich Observants to take him back. In this letter he begs
Cromwell to insist on his being lodged in a certain room
in which he will have access to the outside world be

THE PRICE OF A SACRAMENT.

comparatively uncontrolled, and have freedom to corre
spond about the " King's matter." He entreats him not
to allow him to be sent back to his old quarters.*
There is a pertinacity in Lyst's information respecting
Father Forest which is highly instructive. "Also I
think," he continues, " it were very convenient and neces
sary that the Chancellor of London were spoken unto, no
more to assign Father Forest to preach at Paul's Cross.
Our fathers have oftentimes assigned me to associate
Father Forest when he hath gone forth in preaching,
because they have supposed in me some intelligence and
learning ; and many a time when he hath preached, I
have sitten under the pulpit with a pair of red ears,
because I have heard him so often break Master Priscian's
head ; therefore, in my judgment, it is more convenient
for him to sit at home with his beads than to go forth and
preach. Also, I pray your Mastership, have me meekly
recommended unto my Lady Marquess of Pembroke,
unto whom I am much bound unto, and also that poor
mother of mine, by the reason of her charitable benefits."
The next letter expresses the same righteous indignation.
There is much about the ofifence and dishonour done
against the King's Grace and the Lady Marquess of Pem
broke, by Fathers Peyto, Elstow, Forest, and others. It
grieves his " heart sore to see, perceive and know the
unkindness and duplicity of Father Forest against the
King's Grace," considering what benefits he and the whole
convent have received from the King.
The word " duplicity " is characteristic of the writer's
confused state of mind ; he apparently estimates the value
of a conscience at the price of " a great piece of beef,"
which Father Forest had received as a present, " from the
King's table."
But spy though Lyst was, and sold to the King's mis
tress, he must have had some remnants of honourable
Gairdner Cal. vii. 139.

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

feeling left, and must consequently have experienced in a
measure, the pangs of remorse. It is somewhat of a relief
therefore, to find that his "trouble doth continue, and
rather increase than minish, insomuch that scant two
nights a week " he can take his natural rest ; and if his
" trouble do continue," he fears " some inconvenience of
sickness " to chance unto him. Father " Larans" has sent
him word that he is in readiness to preach the King's
matter, whenever it shall please the King's Grace, or
Cromwell command him, and truly in Lyst's judgment,
" Larans " is more able to do the King's Grace honour,
and Cromwell worship, " than three such as Father Forest
is." He is not so much disturbed in mind, but that he
remembers to end his letter with the usual petition for his
"poor mother."
His treachery soon comes to Father Forest's ears, and
Lyst is in dread, lest Cromwell should allow him to see
the ktters he has written. He begs his " Mastership " to
burn them, trusting that the King's Grace and Cromwell
will be good to him, and not suffer him and his friends to
be punished for what he has said. The position which
this humble lay-brother now takes up would be somewhat
ludicrous, were it not for the serious issues at stake.
Father Forest will not have anything to do with him, now
that his conduct has been laid bare, and Lyst retaliates by
assuming the tone of a mentor. He writes to him and
remonstrates with him, telling him that never having
been punished for his faults and transgressions, " now
this holy time of Lent he may be sorry for them, and
make some amends unto God and to the religion whom
he hath offended." But Father Forest, according to
Lyst's own words, answered him nothing. This treat
ment annoys Lyst so much that he urges Cromwell to
remove him.
" Also there is a good father of our religion, a French
man, come from beyond sea unto us, which is chosen and

THE PRICE OF A SACRAMENT.

assigned to be our minister, head, and ruler, here in this
province, and I trust he shall do much good among us, if
he will be indifferent secundum veritatem, as I trust he will,
and help to reform Father Forest especially, and also some
other things necessary to be reformed among us. And so,
if it were the King's pleasure and yours, good it were and
also convenient, the King's Grace and also your Master
ship to speak with our foresaid new minister, and to
inform him under what manner he should use himself
among us as concerning the King's Grace's honour. Also
if it were your pleasure to help to reform Father Forest,
and to get him removed out of this house, either to Newark
or to Newcastle [Richmond was probably not far enough
from Greenwich !], I think you should do a meritorious
deed, and have great reward of good therefor, and many
thanks and prayers of many in our religion. And as for
my part, I have done, and yet will do as much as is in me
possible, to the furtherance and accomplishment of the same,
with the grace of Jesu, who have you in His blessed keeping.
Amen," The sixth and last letter surpasses in hypocrisy all the
others. His calumnies against the friars (he had gone
so far as to accuse them of murder), and perhaps his
own guilty conscience, rendered his position in the con
vent an unenviable one. He complains that his great
trouble is all in the night, that he is " fearfully troubled
divers manners of wise," and so he thinks verily that
he must depart from the friars, and also change his state.
" Good Master Cromwell," he writes, " I think very un-
feignedly as my conscience giveth me illumination, all
things necessary considered, that I shall serve God and
serve my soul better in another state than I am in now,
and to be delivered of my trouble also. And if it be my
chance to depart from the Friars and change my state, as
I do intend, yet I trust both the King's Grace and the
Queen will be good and gracious unto me, and your

12 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
Mastership also, if it be my chance to need any sup-
portation or help hereafter : for truly to the extremity of
my poor power, I have sealed both the King's honour
and your Mastership's worship also."
" Father Forest, your little friend and less lover, and mine
also, for all his great cracks, is far enough from us ;" and
he goes on to say, in his verbose manner, that his letter
of reproof was read and expounded before their new
minister, and all the fathers in the house, and that Father
Forest was, " according to his deserving," deposed and put
out of his office and expulsed and sent to another convent
in the north parts.
Now this is so obviously the testimony of a false
witness that we need be at no great pains to refute it.
There is absolutely no evidence to show that Father
Forest was ever out of favour with his brethren, but
that, on the contrary, if we except the conduct of a few
renegades such as Lyst and Laurence, we find the greatest
unanimity among them with regard to Henry's marriage
with Catherine.
According to Cardinal Pole," of all the Observants
not so much as one man fell or apostatized from his
Order in all that time of trial. Obscure members,
such as the two spies at Greenwich, may well have
escaped public notice, but if a man so well known as
Father Forest had been convicted of conduct at variance
with that of his confreres, it would most certainly have
been proclaimed by his enemies from the house-tops.
Instead of this, we find that for maintaining what he
maintained the whole Order suiTered. It seems, however,
that he disappeared about the time of Lyst's accusations,
and the records, with one solitary and terse exception,
are silent as to his whereabouts. Even this clue leaves
a gap of a year at least, from the time of his disappear-
° " De Unitatc Ecclesise."

THE PRICE OF A SACRAMENT. 13

ance. In the list of Observants in London in 1534 is the
remark : "John Foreste is there, in prison." "^
Nevertheless, the matter cannot be satisfactorily settled ;
for although we know that he and at least eight other
Observants fell into disgrace with Henry, for upholding
the validity of his marriage, there is another and far
more circumstancial account of his committal, which we
shall relate in its proper place. If, as has been said on
good authority, he was committed to prison for denying
the royal supremacy, this could not have taken place till
the following year, for it was not until after the Pope had
pronounced in favour of Catherine that the Bill of Supre
macy was passed in Parliament, and the oath tendered.^
Lyst's letters, although undated, must have been written
in the latter part of 1532 and the spring of 1533, and
when he mentions Anne as queen, she was probably
married to Henry but not crowned. With regard to
Lyst himself, we find that he was amply rewarded with
a place at the University of Cambridge."
Henry having contracted a marriage with Anne, in
' Gairdner, Cal. vii. No. 1607. In the original edition of Stow's
Chronicles, that of 1580, mention is made of Friar Forest having been
put in prison " for contrarying the preacher before the King." But in
the edition of 1615, this is corrected to the following :¦ — "The 28th
May, Friar Elstowe, standing in the rood loft of the friar's church at
Greenwich, contrarying the preacher Dr. Curwin, said he lied, before
the King, and was for the same sent to prison " (p. 559). Stow's
authority for the first statement was Sander, orig. ed., translated into
English by David Lewis. " In the first place, indeed, that he might
throw fear into others, the King cast into prison a very learned man,
John Forest, religious of the Franciscan Order of the Observants,
confessor to Queen Catherine, under the pretence that he had resisted
a certain Hugh Latimer, who was too freely inveighing against the
Pope in the presence of the King." " Certamen Seraphicum," p. 7.
* According to Lingard, a resolution was taken to erect an indepen
dent Church within the realm, long before Henry could have received
the Pope's sentence ; but the act of schism may really be considered
the outcome of the sentence, because Henry had quarrelled with the
Pope on no other grounds but his marriage, and it is clear that if
Clement had been facile with regard to Anne, there would have ¦ been
no question of a schism.
' Calendar vi. No. 1264.

14 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
spite of the Pope's injunction that, lite pendente, he should
take no action whatever in the matter, but restore the
Queen meanwhile to her former place, there arose great
confusion and fermentation among the people.
Catherine begged Chapuys to supplicate the Emperor
to bring the business to a speedy issue ; but he replied that
the blindness and obstinacy of the King increased every day.
There was no hope that he could take the Queen back,
and Norfolk had declared that not even the Pope, the
Emperor, the King of France, and all the princes of
Christendom combined, could convert him, although the
party for the Queen consisted of nearly the whole nation.
The Abbot of Hyde supported the " Lady's " party and
vituperated those who were on Catherine's side. Every
indignity was heaped on the head of the unfortunate Queen,
and worse was to follow. From complaining that Anne
appeared in public, resplendent with Catherine's jewels,
Chapuys passed on to details of the Queen's bitter priva
tions ; and subsequently forgot both insults and her almost
destitute condition, in alarm for the safety of the Queen
and her daughter.^
The same writer says on another occasion : —
"Anne Boleyn, proceeding from Greenwich to the
Tower before her coronation, was accompanied by
several bishops and lords and innumerable people, in
the form that no other queens have been accustomed
to be received, and whatever regret the King may have
shown at the taking of the Queen's barge, the Lady has
made use of it in this triumph, and appropriated it to
herself. God grant she may content herself with the
said barge, and the jewels and husband of the Queen,
without attempting anything against the persons of the
Queen and Princess. The said triumph consisted entirely
in the multitude of those who took part in it, but all the
people showed themselves as sorry as though it had been
' Chapuys to Charles V. Vienna Archives.

THE PRICE OF A SACRAMENT. 15

a funeral. I am told their indignation increases daily,
and that they live in hope your Majesty will interfere.
On Saturday, the Lady will pass all through London and
go to the King's lodging, and on Sunday to Westminster,
where the ceremony of coronation will take place."-
Friedmann, remarking on the indelicacy in Henry, in
giving Catherine's barge to Anne, says that the Queen's
arms had been cut down, to make way for the apocry
phal emblems of the Boleyn family.*
At St. Paul's the waits played, " in Cheap " the cross
was newly gilt and burnished, and the co.rtcge passed
along " through Paul's Gate, and so to Whitehall," through
a dense but unsympathetic multitude. Henry did all he
could to supplement the want of enthusiasm by jousts and
tournaments, and the Grey Friar's Chronicle says that " at
that time was many knights made." *
Chapuys seems to have looked on with the conviction
that all was now inevitable. He trusted only that nothing
would be attempted against the lives of the Queen and
Princess, of whom he constituted himself the diplomatic
and secret adviser.
Up to the very eve of the Coronation, the Observants had
considered that things had not gone so far, but that they
might still be retrieved. Earlier in May, they made a
supreme effi^rt to bring Henry to reason. The friars
Peyto and Elstow, mentioned by Lyst in his letters, were
worthy companions of Father Forest. For fearlessness
they were unsurpassed by any of the martyrs.
- Chapuys to Charles V., 29th May, 1533.
' " Anne Boleyn," vol. i. p. 204.
¦* Anne's head was by this time completely turned, and she made
no pretence of good feeling or decency. On the 30th July, 1533,
Chapuys wrote to Charles " The Lady, not being satisfied with what
she has received already, has solicited the King to ask the Queen for a
very rich triumphal cloth, which she brought from Spain to wrap up
her children with at baptism, which she would be glad to make use of
very soon. The Queen has replied that it has not pleased God she
should be so ill-advised, as to grant any favour in a case so horrible
and abominable." Vienna Archives. Gairdner, Cal. vi. 918.

i6 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
The story told by Nicholas Harpsfield and by Stow,^ is
like a scene from the Old Testament. Peyto, a simple,
devout man, of good house and family, " had relinquished
the brittle, bright, blazing lustre of the world to serve God
devoutly and entirely." In pursuit of this end, he stood
up one Sunday, early in May, during Divine service, and
rebuked the King to his face and before the whole con
gregation. Preaching on the twenty-second chapter of
the third book of Kings, " in the place where dogs
licked the blood of Naboth," he said, " shall dogs
lick thy blood, even thine." With the eloquence that
comes of profound earnestness and conviction, he entreated
the King to give up Anne Boleyn ; but when he had
delivered his message of persuasion and warning, " I am,"
he said, " that Micheas whom thou wilt hate, because I
must tell thee truly, that this marriage is unlawful. I
know I shall eat the bread of affliction and drink the
water of sorrow, yet because our Lord hath put it into my
mouth, I must speak it." He warned the King against
flatterers, who, like the four hundred lying prophets, made
their interests out of the King's folly and frail affections,
men of no sincerity, who courted his fancy and appealed
to his inclinations for wealth and promotion in the
Church. " Take good heed," he said, " lest being seduced,
you find Ahab's punishment." Like a second Elias, the
brave friar stood, holding, as it were, his life in his hand.
But Henry, contrary to all expectation, bore the rebuke
without any exhibition of anger. However, he provided
himself with counsel, in the person of Dr. Curwin, Canon
of Hereford, who, on the following Sunday, expatiated
from the same pulpit on the lawfulness and beauty of
Henry's marriage. He called Peyto a dog, slanderer, a
base, beggarly friar, a closeman, rebel, traitor, and declared
that no subject should speak so audaciously to princes.
' Harpsfield, " Pretended Divorce," p. 202. Stow's "Annals." p. Kti,
ed. 1615. > r J J

THE PRICE OF A SACRAMENT. 17
He challenged him to come out and defend his discourse,
and Peyto not appearing, he charged him with cowardice
and a guilty conscience.
Upon this, Elstow appeared on the rood-loft and began
to answer Curwin roundly. "Good sir," he protested,
" you know that Father Peyto, as he was commanded, is
now gone to a provincial council, held at Canterbury, and
not fled for fear of you, for to-morrow he will come back
again. In the meantime, I am here, as another Micheas,
and will lay down my life to prove all those things true
which he hath taught out of the Holy Scripture. And to
this combat I challenge you, before God and all equal
judges. Even unto thee, Curwin, I speak, who art one of
the four hundred prophets unto whom the spirit of lying
is entered, and seekest by adultery to establish succession,
betraying the King unto endless perdition, more for thy own
vain glory than for discharge of your clogged conscience
and the King's salvation."
Here Henry bade him be silent, and the dispute ended.
The next day both Peyto and Elstow were summoned
to appear before the Privy Council, and severely repri
manded. " You deserve," said Cromwell, " to be put into a sack
and thrown into the Thames 1 "
Whereupon Elstow replied, smiling, —
" My lord, be pleased to frighten your Court epicures
with such sentences as these." And he went on to declare
that Cromwell was mistaken, if he sought to intimidate
them by any threat whatsoever. "And as for your
Thames," he concluded, " the road to heaven lies as near
by water as by land, and therefore it is indifferent to us
which way we go thither."
If the general tone of the monks and the secular clergy
had been such as this, Henry would have found it impossible
to carry his measures, and foist upon an outraged people
such a woman as Anne Boleyn. But there ran through
C

FAITHFUL UNTO DE^TH.

the ranks of the clergy a spirit of demoralization, and of
supine submission to the willof the tyrant, only made more
glaring by the heroic virtue and the fidelity of a chosen
few. Brewer accounts for the lowered tone of morality that
prevailed, by the wretched condition from which the
country, so long torn to pieces by the disastrous Wars of
the Roses, was only just emerging.
However that may be, the fact remains the same ; and
it is worthy of note, that whenever a country or an indi
vidual is lost to the Church, the change does not come
about by any sudden transition, but by a gradual weaken
ing process and the decay of right reason. The masses of
the people were less corrupted than their spiritual heads.
The Prior of the Austin Friars, Dr. George Browne,
recommended his congregation in a sermon to pray for
Queen Anne, at which they were greatly astonished and
scandalized, and nearly everyone rose and left the church
" with great murmurings and ill-looks, without waiting for
the rest of the sermon." When this came to the King's
ears, he sent word to the mayor, that he should, under
pain of his displeasure, take care that nothing of the kind
happened again. But Henry made prohibitions in vain ;
they only served to turn the hearts of the people from him,
and the murmurings went on as before. If silence was
imposed on the masters, their apprentices grumbled, and if
these were reduced to obedience, it was found that nothing
stopped the tongues of the wives.^
Peyto and Elstow remained some time under arrest.
It was reported that Henry had sent to Rome for a
commission of the Broad-Sleeved Order, to try them.
But the Queen, deeming that this would be an insult
to the whole Order, begged the Emperor, through his
ambassador, to stop the Commission, and the Papal

^ Gairdner, Cal. vi. No. 391.

THE PRICE OF A SACRAMENT. 19
Nuncio also wrote to the same effect. ' They were finally
banished. Meanwhile, Friar Laurence the spy was busy at his
old trade. In watching the movements of two friars
who were collecting books to send to Father Peyto, he
thought he had discovered that they were in communi
cation with Catherine, and had paid her a visit at Bugden.
This, Laurence at once reported to Cromwell, who in
formed the King, and the two friars were arrested.
There was no evidence against them, but as they pro
fessed themselves hostile to the divorce, Cromwell applied
for leave to have them racked. ^
Their names were Hugh Payn and Cornelius. He
considered that they were in some way connected with
two other Observants, Friars Rich and Risby, respectively
Guardians of Richmond and Canterbury, who in their
turn were accused of connivance with Elizabeth Barton,
called the Holy Maid of Kent.
This remarkable woman had been a farm-house servant
at Aldington, near Canterbury, where, being about
eighteen years old, she had a strange and prolonged ill
ness, accompanied by trances and ecstatic conditions,
during which she is said to have foretold coming events.
Having been miraculously cured at the shrine of our
Blessed Lady at Court-up-Strete, she declared that the
Blessed Virgin had appeared to her and had told her
to enter a convent. She subsequently became a nun at
the convent of St. Sepulchre near Canterbury, where she
led a seemingly blameless life for about seven years, con
tinuing from time to time to be rapt in ecstasy, to have
celestial visions, and to utter prophecies. These latter
consisted often of denunciations, warnings and threats
against the King, on account of his evil life. Twice she
solicited and obtained an interview with Henry, in which
' Cal. V. No. 989.
¦^ Cromwell to Henry VflL, Cromwell's Letters, P.R.O.
C 2

20 FAITHFUL UNTO DEA TIT.
she told him that if he proceeded with the matter in hand
(his repudiation of Catherine), he should not be King of
England, in the si,L,^ht of God, seven months hence. She
also declared to him that the Princess Mary, who was
then despised as illegitimate, would in time come to sway
the sceptre that was hers by right. Wc have nothing to
do with the truth or falsehood of the nun's revelations,
nor would it be possible, at this date, to arrive at any
just conclusion concerning her. All the evidence we have
against her, is contained in the Memoranda prepared by
Cromwell, who had the greatest interest in blackening her
fame, and in some expressions of Cranmer's, the truthful
ness of which, unsupported by any other testimony,
we have no special reason for believing. Moreover,
both of the above-mentioned predictions were in a
manner verified ; the first, because according to the law
of all Christendom, then acknowledged by every nation
of Europe, an excommunicated person could enjoy no
civil or religious rights. If he were a king, his subjects
were released from the duty of obedience to him, and
they would be justified in depriving him of the kingly
office. To reign under such conditions might be con
sidered as not reigning at all, and Henry was excom
municated for his marriage with Anne exactly seven
months after she had been declared Queen. Her corona
tion took place in April, 1533, and Henry was formally
excommunicated in the following October.
With regard to the Princess Mary, nothing at the time of
the nun'sprophecy appeared less likely, than th.-tt she should
ever be restored to honour and royal dignity. She had been
branded by her father with the stigma of illegitimacy,
and yet we know that she became Queen before lilizabeth^
who about that time was baptized with great pomp as
Princess, in the church of the Observants at Greenwich.
Strange as it may appear, that the saying of ' an
obscure and uneducated giri should excite the alarm of

THE PRICE OF A SACRAMENT. 21
politicians, it must be remembered that the moment was
a critical one. The whole country was in a state of
fermentation in consequence of Henry's repudiation of his
wife, and any voice likely to influence the people was of
the highest importance. It was popular veneration and
enthusiasm that styled her the " Holy Maid," and it must
be admitted that all her exhortations, of which any
account has reached us, tended to increase of virtue
and spirituality. The following passage from a letter
from one of the Carthusians at Shene, to the nun's con
fessor. Dr. Bocking, a Benedictine monk afterwards
accused of treason and executed with her, shows the
estimation in which she was held.
" Let us praise God," writes the Carthusian, " who has
raised up this holy virgin, a mother indeed to me and a
daughter to thee, for our salvation. She has raised a fire in
some hearts that you would think like unto the operation of
the Holy Spirit in the primitive Church, if you saw with
what frequent tears some bewailed their transgressions."
She exhorted the people, who flocked to her in crowds,
to forsake sin, amend their lives, and frequent the sacra
ments ; so that, referring to the apparently miraculous
life of sanctity which she led, a well-known writer
observes, and the argument is conclusive, " If she were
moved by an evil spirit, as her enemies afterwards pre
tended, there never was a clearer case of Satan's kingdom
divided against itself."
Learned and holy men, such as Blessed John Fisher and
Blessed Thomas More, at one time formed a favourable
estimate of her virtue. The venerable Bishop of Rochester,
it is true, abstained from pronouncing any judgment upon
the matter, but he was attainted for misprision of treason for
not revealing her prophecy with regard to the King, which
she had herself communicated to Henry. Sir Thomas
" " Henry VIII. and the English Monast'eries," vol. i. p. 113, by the
Rev. F. A. Gasquet, O.S.B.

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

More, attracted by her wonderful reputation for sanctity,
went to see her, and was confirmed in his good opinion by
her apparent humility and sincerity : " Howbeit, of a truth
I had a great good opinion of her, and had her in great
estimation.'" Fearing that she might get herself into
trouble, if she were induced by inquisitive people to speak
of her revelations concerning " any matter of princes, or of
the realm," he wrote to her, counselling great prudence,
and recommending himself to her prayers. It is not clear
that his subsequent change of opinion was based on any
other foundation than her alleged confession of fraud. The
interesting point for us in the whole story is the fact that
the two Observants, Friars Rich and Risby, suffered for
believing in the divine origin of her visions and prophecies.
In the letter which Sir Thomas More wrote to Cromwell,
who in spite of evidence to the contrary sought to include
him in the matter, he says : —
" About Christmas was twelvemonth. Father Risby,
Friar Observant, then of Canterbury, lodged one night
at mine house, where, after supper, a little before he
went to his chamber, he fell in communication with me of
the nun, giving her high commendation of holiness, and
that it was wonderful to see and understand the works that
God wrought in her ; which thing I answered, that I was
very glad to hear it, and thanked God thereof. Then he
told me that she had been with my lord legate in his life,
and with the King's Grace too ; and that she had told my
lord legate a revelation of hers, of three swords that God
had put in my lord legate's hand, which, if he ordered not
well, God would lay it sore to his charge. The first, she
said, was the ordering the spirituality under the Pope, as
legate ; the second, the rule that he bore in order of the
temporalty under the King as his Chancellor ; and the third,
she said, was the meddling he was put in trust with, by
1 " Sir Thomas More," by the Rev. T. E. Bridgett, C.SS.R , p. 328.

THE PRICE OF A SACRAMENT. 23
the King, concerning the great matter of his marriage.
And therewithal I said unto him, that any revelation of the
King's matters I would not hear of ; I doubt not that the
goodness of God should direct His Highness with His
grace and wisdom, that the thing should take such end as
God should be pleased with, to the King's honour and
surety of the realm. When he heard me say these words,
or the like, he said unto me, that God had specially com
manded her to pray for the King ; and forthwith he brake
again into her revelations concerning the Cardinal, that his
soul was saved by her mediation ; and without any other
communication, went into his chamber. And he and I never
talked any more of any such manner of matter, nor since
his departing on the morrow, I never saw him afterwards,
to my remembrance, till I saw him at St. Paul's Cross.
" After this, about Shrovetide, there came unto me, a
little before supper, Father Rich, Friar Observant of Rich
mond ; and as we fell in talking, I asked him of Father
Risby, how he did ; and upon that occasion he asked me
whether Father Risby had anything showed me of the
holy nun of Kent ; and I said yea, and that I was very
glad to hear of her virtue. ' I would not,' quoth he, ' tell
you again that you have heard of him already; but I have
heard and known many great graces that God hath
wrought in her, and in other folks by her, which I would
gladly tell you, if I thought you had not heard them
already.' And therewith he asked me whether Father
Risby had told me anything of her being with my lord
Cardinal ; and I said yea. ' Then he told you,' quoth he,
' of the three swords ? ' ' Yea, verily,' quoth I. ' Did
he tell you,' quoth he, ' of the revelations that she had
concerning the King's Grace ? ' ' Nay forsooth,' quoth
I, ' nor if he would have done, I would not have given him
a hearing ; nor verily no more I would indeed, for since
she hath been with the King's Grace herself, and told him,
methought it a thing needless to tell me, or to any man

24 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

else.' And when Father Rich perceived that I would not
hear her revelations concerning the King's Grace, he
talked on a little of her virtue, and let her revelations
alone ; and therewith my supper was set upon the board,
where I required him to sit with me ; but he would in no
wise tarry, but departed to London." -
In spite of Sir Thomas More's great prudence in the
matter, and although his name was struck out of the bill of
attainder, the King was already too deeply irritated to let
him off entirely. Not finding, as he hoped, an occasion
for doing him any more harm, he took away his salary.
Two years previously, Warham, Archbishop of Canter
bury, had written respecting the nun to Wolsey, speaking
of her as " a very well disposed and virtuous woman." ^ If
he had lived long enough, he would probably have suffered
for this praise. Even the Queen was suspected of being
in communication with her, but Chapuys gives a remark
able tribute to Catherine's prudence and honourable
feeling. " It seems," he writes, " as if God inspires the
Queen, on all occasions, to conduct herself well, and to
avoid all inconveniences and suspicions ; for the Nun had
been very urgent, at divers times, to speak with her, and
console her in her great affliction, but the Queen would
never see her." *
In a series of letters, Chapuys relates the proceedings
against Barton and her adherents. On the 24th Novem
ber he writes : " Yesterday the Nun was placed on a high
scaffold before the cathedral of this city, where she, two
good and religious Observants, two Augustinian monks,
two secular priests, a hermit, and a respectable layman,
waited all the time of the sermon ; and for their vitupera-
- " Sir Thomas More," by the Rev. T. E. Bridgett, pp. 324-325.
^ Elhs, " Orig. Letters," 3rd Series, vol. ii. p. 137.
¦• Chapuys to Charles V., 12th Nov. 1533. Vienna Archives.
Cromwell admitted that nothing had been found to compromise
either Catherine or her daughter. " Anne Boleyn," voL i. p. 245.

THE PRICE OF A SACRAMENT. 25
tion, the preacher, who was a monk lately made bishop
in order to support the ' lady's ' party, repeated all that
the Chancellor had said against them, further affirming
that the nun, by her feigned superstition, had prevented the
Cardinal of York from proceeding to give sentence for the
divorce, as he had resolved ; and this had been one of
the greatest calamities of this kingdom, as much fbr the
present as for the future. To her other accomplices who
were there, the preacher imputed levity and superstition
for sticking to such things, and disloyalty for not revealing
them. He attributed to the two Observants especially,
that, under the shadow of the said superstition, they had
suborned and seduced their companions to maintain the
false opinion and wicked quarrel of the Queen against the
King. And as the principal matter of his harangue, he
confined the rest of his discourse to a justification of the
King's quarrel, impugning the first marriage, exhorting
the people with great vehemence never to listen to the
contrary. " It is said that on the two next Sundays, the nun and
the above-mentioned persons will play the same part in the
comedy, for it hardly deserves any other name, and that
afterwards they will be taken through all the towns in the
kingdom, to make a similar representation, in order to
efface the general impression of the nun's sanctity ; be
cause this people is peculiarly credulous, and is easily
moved to insurrection by prophecies, and, in its present
disposition, is glad to hear any to the King's disadvantage.
The King has not yet prevailed on the judges to make the
declaration against those who have practised against him
with the said nun, in the form that I last wrote. He is
going to have the affair discussed with them on Friday ;
and although some of the principal judges would sooner
die than make the said declaration, yet when the King
comes to dispute, there is no one who will contradict him,
unless he wishes to have 'beast' or 'traitor' thrown at

26 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
his head. So that it seems as if he had made a total
divorce, not only from his wife, but from good conscience,
humanity, and gentleness, which he used to have." ^
It seems not to have been Cromwell's first intention to
proceed to extremities, although Cranmer was for exercising
great severity." He would probably have been content
with the exhibition at St. Paul's Cross, and the real or pre
tended recantation of the prophetess. By the presence
of Rich and Risby, he had cast discredit on the Observants,
and that was a point gained for the acceptance of the
divorce by the nation at large. To cause them to be
suspected of connivance at deceit and fraud, was an in
genious way of silencing those ever-wagging tongues.
But the very words of Barton's forced recantation ex
pressed that she alone was responsible for her prophetic
utterances, and Cromwell was soon convinced that his
success was only a partial one. Moreover, it began to be
rumoured that the.confession had not been the nun's free
act, and messengers were intercepted from her to her
friends all over the country, animating them " to adhere to
her and her prophecies." To the original accusation
another was added. The question of the King's marriage
had merged into the question of the Pope's authority.
* Gairdner, Cal. vi., 1460 ; Gayangos, Spanish Calendars, iv. pt. ii.
1154- ' Letters 8 and 9.

CHAPTER II.
SUPREME HEAD.
1534-1537-
Parliament assembled in January, 1534, with the one
definite object of passing the King's Bills, although the
intention was veiled with a few preliminary transactions of
a different nature. The Pope had shown himself the
reverse of facile with regard to the divorce, and Henry
was prepared to obey his ultimate decision only in so far
as it was in accordance with his wishes. " Let the Pope
pronounce sentence in my favour, and I will admit his
authority," he had said, " else it shall not be admitted. " '
But as late as February i8th, Latimer, preaching before
the King, declared that the authority of the Pope was the
highest on earth,^ and Henry knew that the majority of
his subjects shared his belief.
On the 23rd March, Clement gave sentence against the
divorce, and Henry at once broke away from Rome.
There was some confusion in the people's mind with
regard to the position of affairs. Even those supposed to
be behind the scenes, were puzzled. Was Henry, or was
Cranmer to be Pope in England henceforth .-' Chapuys
wrote to the Emperor, that now the Archbishop of
Canterbury was to have the power of passing Bulls, instead
' Letter of Castillon to Francis I. "Anne Boleyn,'' by Paul
Friedmann, vol. i. p. 297.
2 Cotton MS. Vit. B. xiv., fol. 119, B.M,

28 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
of His Hohness.^ But there was no confusion in Henry's
own mind. " He was the King, the whole King, and
nothing but the King ; and he wished to be the Pope, the
whole Pope, and something more than the Pope." *
The confusion arose partly from the imperfect manner
in which the Supremacy of the Pope was understood in
England in the sixteenth century. Even Blessed Thomas
More had once doubted, whether Papal Supremacy was
directly ordained by God. He urged the King to qualify
what he had said on the subject in his book against
Luther. But at that time Henry was a staunch Papist,
and declined to alter a word. It is said that he told the
Chancellor a secret reason for not modifying what he had
put forth. " Further reflection and study at length con
vinced More that what the King had written was right,
and that his conscience would be in great peril if he
denied the Pope's primacy." ^ Anglican " divines " are
fond of asserting that supremacy was an ancient right of
the Crown of England, and to continue to maintain this
is of course a necessity of their position. Nevertheless, it
is a stubborn fact that, prior to Henry Vlllth's quarrel with
Rome, the only Supremacy known in England was the
Supremacy of the Pope. The year 1535 was a critical one
in the religious history of the nation. It introduced a
totally new order of things, new not only as regarded
the Royal Supremacy, but as inaugurating an entirely
different scheme of Church government." A mere glance
at the history of this period suffices to show, that con
tinuity in the Church of England, such as the more
advanced of her members claim so urgently, is an empty
' Gairdner says that Chapuys regarded Cranmer as a sort of Anti-
Pope set up in England by the King's authority. Preface to Cal. vii.
" Bishop Stubbs' " Lectures on Mediaeval and Modern History "
P- 301-
' Gairdner, Preface to Calendar vii.
' Gairdner, Preface to Calendar viii.

SUPREME HEAD. 29

dream. The people were familiar with opposition to
Papal authority ; but an ecclesiastical headship separating
the King from all his predecessors was at variance with
all tradition.'' Every act of Henry as Head of the Church
of England, bears the stamp of innovation. ,
It was a matter for which the Observants were ready to
lay down their lives, and while the learned were debating,
and the worldly-minded giving in to the King, the
friars, learned and simple, followed their conscience.
Fidelity to the Holy See was an instinct with them ; it
was even more than an instinct. It was a part of their
rule, and belonged to the " religion " of St. Francis. Later
on, we shall have occasion to see how Blessed John Forest
inculcated the principle, in those members of the Order
who seemed to him to fail in its observance.
On the 20th April, 1534, Fathers Rich and Risby,
together with the " holy maid of Kent," the two Bene~
dictines and the two secular priests, were executed at
Tyburn. In order that it might be lawful to convict them of
treason, there being no handle against them as the law
then stood, an Act had been passed through Parliament to
make it high treason to impugn the King's marriage with
Anne Boleyn, and the succession of her children, or to
appeal in any way to the authority of the Pope.' Now
treason, according to the Statute Book, was an overt act
against the King, such as inciting to war against him, or
compassing his death, and by no stretch of elastic terms
could the nun or her adherents be proved guilty of such
an offence. It was therefore necessary to alter the law
before they could be punished.
On March 12th the Bill was passed by the Lords, and
we do not find that after this there was any question of a

' Brewer's Introductions, vol. i. p. 107.
' Act 25th Henry VI II. P.R.O. C. 22, S. 5.

30 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
pardon for Elizabeth Barton. She was hanged and be
headed. The priests who suffered with her were hanged,
drawn and quartered.
Friars Rich and Risby had been invited to hold a
disputation with some of the King's men, who by every
artifice they could devise, tried to get them to acknow
ledge Henry as Head of the Church of England. But
they, fearing no sort of torment, refused to consent to so
nefarious a scheme. When Henry heard of their per
sistent refusal, he was beside himself with rage, ordered
the friars to be taken back to prison and subjected to the
severest torture. They bore all that was inflicted on them
with consummate patience, declaring with wonderful
constancy in the midst of their torment.s, that the
Supreme Pontiff was Head of the Universal Church, that
the Church of England was subject and united to the
Church of Rome, and could have no other head than the
Pope. They also said that they had a great desire to
suffer every torture for the love of their Lord Jesus Christ.
A few days later, they were led forth to execution.
At the last moment a messenger arrived from the King,
offering them a free pardon, if they would renounce the
Pope ; but they remained unshaken in their resolve.
Father Richard Risby, Guardian of Canterbury, was
already standing on the ladder, with the rope round his
neck. He repeated fervently the words of the prophet:
" Voluntarie sacrificabo tibi, et confitebor nomini tuo,
quoniam bonum est," when he was thrown off, and almost
immediately the rope was cut, and his still palpitating
body fell to the ground. The work of butchery was
accomplished without delay, and with the utmost cruelty,
in order, it was said, to terrify into submission Father Rich,
who was standing by. The quivering members were
thrown into a seething cauldron close to the gallows, and
when the hangman held up the martyr's heart, the people
saw it make a convulsive movement. His head was

SUPREME HEAD. 31
then cut off, stuck upon a pole and placed on London
Bridge." Undaunted by the sickening spectacle. Father Hugh Rich
then mount3d the ladder, and being cut down from the
gibbet while yet alive, he is said to have spoken these
touching words, as the hangman laid hold of his heart :
" That which thou hast in thy hand is consecrated to
God." Both Friars Risby and Rich are considered, by the
author of the Franciscan Martyrology, among the martyrs
of the Order.i
These were the first-fruits of the conflict, but the battle
was being fought all over the country ; the houses of
Greenwich, Richmond and Canterbury were the outposts,
but the others were equally ready for the war that was
being waged against the powers of darkness. On Passion
Sunday, 1534, the Warden of Southampton, Friar Pecock,
preached in St. Swithin's church at Winchester, where a
certain Robert Coke of Rye, who had abjured some
heresies concerning the Blessed Sacrament, was doing
his penance. The preacher made this an occasion for
condemning the false teaching in question, and other
" dampned heresies," exhorting the people to live and die
in their faith. He told them the story of St. Maurice,
who preferred to suffer martyrdom rather than obey the
command of his prince which was contrary to God's laws.
" Here be many hearers," he said, " and they be not all of
one capacity. Some there be that understand me, and
some, peradventure, that understand me not, but other
wise do take me and shall report me than I do speak or
mind." They were, he continued, to stand constantly
and humbly in their faith, and to use themselves obedi
ently towards their prince. Touching, however, the Pope
" Barezzo Barezzi, " Delle Croniche dell' Ordine de' Frati Minori,"
Venice 1608, vol. iv. p. 208.
' " Coll. Anglo. Min." pp. 229 and 230.

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

and his authority, he lamented the diversity of preachings,
and the contradictions of clerks and learned men, saying
that he was credibU- informed that some persons preached
that St Peter had never more power or authority given
to him by God than any other of the Apostles. They
declared, he said, that the Pope should have no more
authorit}' out of Rome, than a bishop out of his diocese,
and a bishop should have no more authority than a
simple priest, and so consequently the Pope should have
no more power than a simple curate. These sayings, he
averred, were grievous errors, and yet he was informed
that people brought books into the pulpit with them for
the proof of it. But he would show his book to the
contrary. Then he took up the book which lay before
him, and read five or six places " approving primatum
Petri, and Englished them." -
As he had foreseen, these words were not allowed to
pass unpunished. The report of the sermon was sent to
Cromwell on the 7th April, and the very next day, the spy
wrote to him : " I have received your letter for the taking
of Friar Pecock. We have visited the convent this morning,
of which he being now warden, is abroad preaching."
And shortly after, the mayor of Southampton wrote to
Cromwell : " I have sent you Friar Pecock, as soon as he
was found ; there is no obstinacy in him." Another
friend, one Harry Huttoft, made a further effort to save
him. " I beg your favour unto Pecock," he wrote to
Cromwell, " for since his being here he has been of very
good behaviour, and keeps his convent in good order." ^
But the King's anger against the Observants was not
to be appeased, and Cromwell was the cold and unre
lenting, if passionless, executor of all his behests. His
" Remembrances " are monuments of his character and of
' Gairdner, Cal. \\\. No. 449.
' Gairdner, Cal. vii. Nos. 450 and 473.

SUPREME HEAD. 33

the method which in him was the whole man. There is
not a single reflection, not a passing remark on any
event however stirring. All is calm, clear, business-like,
and ruthless. The entry for one day will be sufficient
as an illustration of the whole of this strange chronicle.
" To know whether Vaughan shall go forward or
return. Touching Friar Risby's examination of the
letter sent by Peyto, to Payne the friar. To remember
to send for Friar Rich to Richmond, of the letters lately
come from Rome to the minister of the Friars Observants,
and of the communication between Beeke and a friar, and
to know the effect of those letters, which letters were
directed from Elstow. To know what way the King
will take with all the said malefactors." *
Stephen Vaughan was an agent of Cromwell's whom
he had sent abroad to collect information. He wrote
that Friar Peyto had just put forth a book against "the
King's great matter," at Antwerp, where he was living
with another friar. He will, he says, when he gets to
Antwerp send the book.^
In another letter, he says Peyto is labouring at setting
forth his book, and that a friar comes to him every week
from England ; and that he (Vaughan) is proceeding to
Cologne, where " the King has an enemy that spoils his
subjects." Peyto is, he says, much helped out of England
with money."
4 Cal. vi. 1370.
* S. Vaughan to Cromwell, P.R.O., July 30, 1533. Peyto denied
ever having put forth a book against the king's marriage. See Hutton
to Cromwell, P.R.O. Sept. 2, 1537.
The wildest statements were made, which when investigated were
found to be wholly unsupported. For instance, a messenger from
Rome reported that persons in that city had spoken slanderous and
vile words against the King's realm. The would-be traitor said he had
letters from those persons to a Friar Observant at Antwerp, at which
place he had arrived. The man was brought before Hutton, Henry's
agent, and the letters were opened, but they contained nothing that
could by any possibility be twisted into an offence, although Hutton
sent them to Cromwell, June 22, 1537, P.R.O.
« S. Vaughan to Cromwell, 3rd August, 1533. D

34 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

On his return to Antwerp from Cologne, Vaughan
again wrote to Cromwell, this time in a very excited
way. Perhaps he had been blamed for sending too
little information. "Peyto like his brethren is a hypo
crite, a tiger clad in a sheepskin, a perilous knave, and
evil reporter of the King, and ought to be shamefully
punished. Would God I could get him by any policy.
I will work what I can. Whatever Peyto does, I will
find means for the King to know. I have laid a bait
for him. He cannot wear the cloaks and cowls sent
over to him from England, they are so many." '
In a former letter he had said, " The Flemings have
also put forth in print an excommunication against the
King, which I also send — " and " I have no doubt
that the King, with your mediation, will provide for
me." Henry having now finally committed himself to the
divorce and the Supremacy, it was necessary to vindi
cate his authority by the most stringent measures. The
Earl of Northumberland's physician informed Chapuys
" that the whole realm was so indignant at the oppressions
and enormities now practised, that if the Emperor would
make the smallest effort the King would be ruined."
The atmosphere of the Court was such that even men
of otherwise lax morality found it distasteful. Anne
could hardly count on the support of her own family ;
she had disgusted the Duke of Norfolk, her uncle, by
her arrogance. There were many flatterers but few
friends, and Henry could only hope to retain his authority
by playing the bully. Everyone mistrusted his neigh
bour ; there were spies at every street corner. Lord
Sandes, thought to be one of the most loyal of courtiers,
wrote to Chapuys that the times were so bad, he regretted
that he could not invite him to his house ; but he wished
' S. Vaughan to Cromwell, 21st October, 1533, R.Q.

SUPREME HEAD. 35

him to assure the Emperor that he had the hearts of
all the kingdom.* But Charles was too cautious to risk
a war with Henry, in the uncertainty as to what the
King of France would do; and Henry knew he was
safe from invasion as long as the princes of Europe were
disunited. It mattered little to him, that they were all
agreed in considering him the common enemy of Christi
anity, but it enraged him to see himself the scorn of his
own subjects. Forest and Peyto troubled him more than
Charles or Francis. With Henry, to fear was to strike,
and the stroke fell first of all on the Observants. Hither
to he had dealt only with individuals; the 15th June
I534i opened the campaign against the whole Order.
Roland Lee, one of the King's chaplains lately rewarded
with the bishopric of Lichfield and Coventry, and Thomas
Bedyll, Clerk of the Council, were intrusted with the pro
ceedings. " Please it you to understand," they wrote to Cromwell,
" that on Saturday last about six in the evening, we received
your letters by the provincial of the Augustin Friars,
according to the which, we forthwith proceeded to Rich
mond, and came hither between 10 and 11 at night, and
in the morning following we had first communication with
the warden and one of the seniors named Sebastian,
and after that with the whole convent, and moved them by
all the means and policies that we could devise, to consent
to the articles delivered unto us by the said Provincial,
and required the confirmation of them by their convent
seal. The warden and convent showed themselves very
untoward in that behalf. And thereupon we were forced
to move the convent to put the matter wholly in the
arbitrement of their seniors, otherwise named discreets,
which were but four in number, and that these four should
have full authority to consent or dissent for them all, and
' Cal. viii. Preface.
D 2

36 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

in the name of them all should meet us at Greenwich this
day in the morning, and bring their convent seal with
them. And so they did. And when we came to Green
wich, we exhorted the convent likewise to put the whole
matter in the hands of their seniors or discreets, to the
intent to avoid superfluous words and idle reasoning, and
specially to provide, that if the discreets should refuse to
consent, it were better after our minds, to strain a few than
a multitude. But at Greenwich we could in no wise
obtain to have the matter put in the discreets' hands and
arbitrement But the convent stiffly affirmed that where
the matter concerned particularly every one of their souls,
they would answer every man for himself, and when, after
much reasoning and debating, wc required to have their
final and determinate answer, which we demanded of
every one of them particularly, wc found them in one
mind of contradiction and dissent from the .said articles,
but specially against this article : Quod cpiscopus
Romanus nihilo majoris auctoritatis aut furisdictionis
habcndns sit quam ceteri quivis episcopi in Anglia vet alibi
gentium in sua quisque diocesi. And the cause of their
dissent, as they said, was by reason that that article was
cleady against their profession, and the rule of St. Francis,
in which rule it is thus written (as they showed unto us) :
Adhcec per obedientiam injungo ministris utpetant a domino
Papa ummi de Sanctis Romanes Ecclesiee Cardinalibus, qui
sit gubernator protector et corrector istius fraternitatis, ut
semper subditi et subjecti pedibus Sancta; Ecclesiee ejusdem
stabiles in fide Catholica paupertatem et humilitatem et
secundum Evangelium Domini Nostri Jesu Christi, quod
firmiter promisimus observemus.
" Whereunto three answers.
" First that St. Francis and his brethren at the beginning
were dwelling in Italy, under the obedience of the Bishop
of Rome, as all monks not exempt, be under the obedience
of the Bishop of Canterbury, and therefore it were no

SUPREME HEAD. yj

marvel that St. Francis would his brethren to be obedient
to the Bishop of Rome, being their prelate. At which
time of St. Francis, and long after, there were none of his
Order in England, and therefore these words were not
meant by friars of England ^sic).
" The second answer that we made was this, that the
chapter of St. Francis' rule, which they allege maketh
mention of ministers, and that they should desire of the
Pope to have one of the Cardinals which should be
governor, protector and corrector of their brotherhood,
and we showed them that in our opinion that chapter was
no part of St. Francis' rule, but was forged sythens, and
planted into the same by some ambitious friar of that Order.
For as we supposed, the name of ministris was not found
out or spoken of when this rule was confirmed, and it is to
be thought, that St. Francis, being a holy man, was desir
ous to have a cardinal to govern and correct his brethren.
"Thirdly, we affirmed unto them that they were the
King's subjects, and that by the law of God, they owed
him their entire obedience, and that the Pope and St.
Francis and they themselves, with their vows, oaths and
professions, could take away not one iota of the obedience
which they owed to the King, by God's laws. And we
showed them that none of the King's subjects could sub
mit himself or bear obedience to any other person or pre
late without the King's consent And if he did, he did the
King's Grace great injury, and offended God, breaking His
laws commanding obedience towards princes ; and in this
behalf, we showed that the King, being a Christian prince,
was a spiritual man, and that obedience which they owed
to the King by God's laws was a spiritual obedience, and
in spiritual causes, for they would be obedient, but only in
temporal causes.
" But all this reason could not sink into their obsti
nate heads, and worn in custom of obedience of the
Pope. Albeit we further declared unto them, that

38 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
both Archbishops of this realm, the Bishops of London,
Winchester, Durham and Bath, and all the prelates and
heads, and all the famous clerks of this realm have sub
scribed to this conclusion : Quod Romanus pontifex non
habet maforem jurisdictionem ex sacris Uteris in hoc regno
Anglice quam quivis alius externus episcopus. All this not
withstanding, their conclusion was, they had professed St.
Francis' religion, and in the observance thereof they would
live and die. Sorry we be, we cannot bring them to no
better frame of mind and order in this behalf, as our faith
ful mind was to do, for the accomplishment of the King's
pleasure.^' ' " By your assuredly RoLAND Co. et Lich.
" Your own,
" Thomas BEdyll."
After this long-winded letter, the sequel is terse enough.
Four days later, on the i8th June, IS 34, a certain Leonard
Smyth, writing to Lord Lisle, says drily, at the end of his
letter, " No news, but that two carts full of friars came to the
Tower two days ago."^ And on the nth August, Chapuys
writes : " Of seven houses of Observants, five have already
been emptied of friars, because they have refused to swear
to the statutes made against the Pope. Those in the two
others expect also to be expelled."
By the 29th August, all the Observants in the kingdom
had been driven out of their houses, which were then filled
with Austin Friars, as a reward, no doubt, to their pliant
and obliging Provincial, Dr. George Browne. The Obser
vants were distributed in various religious houses all over
the country, not as Stow and Holinshed assert, as if enter
ing into possession of them, but as prisoners. Many of
them were cast into " fast hold."
Under the date 1 537, the author of the " Collectanea "
' Cleop. E. iv. fol 40, Cotton MSS. B.M. 1 Cal. vii.

SUPREME HEAD. 39

writes : ^ " The execution of many of the Franciscan
Observants (in prison ever since 1534 or 153 5), having been
delayed by the mediation of their friend Sir Thomas
Wriothesley, and not one of them coming into the King's
measures, or subscribing to his supremacy, etc., it was now
proposed to his Majesty (as Sanders writes) that they
should be some way or other disposed of, lest others, by
their example, might become more resolute. And now,
though the King seemed inclined to have them all cut off,
or hanged at once, yet being apprehensive of the infamy of
such a fact, because they were numerous, and being willing
to show some favour to his Privy Counseller Wriothesley,
who had pleaded hard for them, he spared some of them,
who went into banishment, partly into the Low Countries,
and others into Scotland, as an author says. But thirty-
two of the same Order were removed out of the prisons of
London, and being coupled two and two together with
iron chains, were sent into divers other distant prisons of
the nation, that they might there perish with less murmur
ing and disturbance ; for the author of the Franciscan
Martyrology says there was such an universal discontent
amongst the King's subjects, and such loud outcries, even
of persons of quality, on the account of the imprisonment
of all the Observants, that his Majesty thought fit to set
some of them at liberty, and that these thirty-two were
reserved to be made examples of. Besides these, others
were starved with hunger, as an author writes, and others
suffocated with the intolerable stench of prisons, or
perished by the inconveniences and hardships of their
confinement." " They are locked up," writes Chapuys, " put in chains,
and worse treated than if they were prisoners, being in
the hands of those that hate them. May God console

•- P. 238.

40 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
them with His grace, and keep in them their good
intentions." *
In spite of the plausible reasoning of the commissioners
at Greenwich, the Observants, like the Carthusians and
Brigittins, were not simply English subjects, but members
of a vast and widely spread international religious
system, which everywhere commanded respect and
sympathy. It was notorious that Henry persecuted those
communities famed for their regularity and fidelity to
their rule, while he favoured those which gave public
scandal by their relaxed condition. On the Continent,
preachers vehemently denounced the cruelty of a King
who had butchered men like Houghton and his Carthusians,
and banished men like Peyto.'' But the Observants
irritated him more than any other religious order, and he
determined to stamp them clean out of the land. They
were doubly to be hated, as having been former favourites,
now turned into his most uncompromising opponents, and
he would probably have made still shorter work of them,
but " from fear of the people."^ There was some inconsis
tency, however, in his manner of dealing with them, unless
we distinguish between Henry's blustering rage, and his
minister's cool, calculating policy.
As we have seen, Sir Thomas Wriothesley, their secret
friend and admirer, used his influence with Cromwell to
get leave for them to go into exile. To some extent he
succeeded, and the more easily because Cromwell was
probably glad to get rid of them at any price." " Item,"
he wrote in his diary, " to remember the friars of Green
wich, to have licence to go into Ireland." ''
Wadding mentions eight as having thus obtained
^ Gayangos, Cal. v. part i. p. 245.
' Friedmann, vol. ii. p. 65.
' Fuller says (" Church Hist." Book vi. p. 308) : " He still hoping
to bring them to his will, spared their lives."
Gasquet, vol. i. p. 190.
' Cromwell's " Remembrances.''

SUPREME HEAD. 41

release,* four of whom died immediately afterwards, from
the effects of the privation and suffering they had under
gone in prison. The four others went into Scotland or
Germany, where Henry's anger still pursued them.
Chapuys wrote to the Emperor, that the brother of the
Duke of Norfolk was to be sent into Scotland, to ask
the extradition of certain Observants, who went about
preaching there, that the King of England was a schis
matic and a heretic'
Of the vast majority of the Observants, racked,
starved, hanged, or otherwise put to death, we know
nothing, from the moment that the silence of their
dungeons received them, beyond the fact that they re
mained faithful unto death. The whole Order suffered,
although not in the same degree, those members who had
taken an active and prominent part in opposing the
King's divorce, or in preaching in favour of the Pope,
being marked out for Henry's special vengeance. Of
these, besides Blessed John Forest, four names stand out
in bold relief. They are : Fathers Anthony Brookby,
Thomas Belchiam, Thomas Cort, and N., or as he is
otherwise called, Francis Waire ; and it will be our privi
lege later on to give a faithful, though necessarily brief,
account of their glorious sufferings and martyrdom.
Meanwhile, one instance will serve to illustrate the treat
ment received by those obscurer members whose only
offence consisted in belonging to the now obnoxious Order,
and in having refused, in common with their brethren, to
take the oath of Supremacy.
Friar Francis Lybert, writing to James Beckk,^ on
the 25th October, 1534, says he is at the Grey Friars at
Stamford, enclosed with his fellow-father Abraham, ac
cording to the King's order, in a poor lodging. Although,

Vol. xvi. p. 419. ' Gayangos, Cal. v. 1535.
' Cal. vii. No. 1307.

42 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

he says, they are treated as the King's prisoners, they
shall always be his true bedesmen, and pray for his high
and excellent estate and prosperous health. They desire
to hear some tidings of their fathers in London or at
Greenwich, what they have done and what they intend
to do. " We hear," he continues, " that they are all
sworn, and have somewhat changed their government,
at which we marvel. Notwithstanding, if they think that
God is pleased with it, their conscience discharged, the
world edified, and any profit may come of it wc
desire to have a more perfect knowledge ; and then we
shall do as God ¦ shall inspire us, either suffer pain
still, and be enclosed, or else go at liberty, as they
do." No small part of the sufferings of such as these two
friars would be the ignorance in which they were kept
as to the fate of their brethren. Cromwell would not
hesitate to have them told that others had given in,
and that their stubbornness and want of loyalty to
the King were bringing their Order into much dis
repute. Friar Lybert goes on to request " Master Beckk " to
send him certain effects of which he has need, and which
in the hurry of departure were left behind, and wonders
that the letter he and Father Abraham wrote, at the
feast of the Nativity of our Lady, to Beckk's wife has
remained unanswered. Then he begs him to read and
burn the present letter, for he knows what hurt hath
chanced by letter-writing, though many never intended
hurt thereby. He sends greetings to his brethren, and
especially to his poor sister in Tower Street, to his
cousin at the Strand without Temple Bar, and to his
father and mother, if Beckk knows of anyone going
to them.
The letter was not burnt, and it exists to this day in
the Public Record Office ; but another was written from

SUPREME HEAD. 43

Beckk to Cromwell, wishing to speak with him that
morning. He has to tell him something that it is
necessary for him to know. No doubt Father Lybert
waited in vain for an answer and for his "roll of
wax," his " new Psalter," his " penner and inkhorn," and
certain things tied up in a handkerchief, which he left
-.vith Brother Feeld when he was their porter and in-
fir—jarian. Here and there is a rare instance of failure under
persecution, adding a melancholy, if a more human in
terest to the story, and giving us a deeper insight into
the sufferings of those who resisted " unto blood." A
letter from Bishop Tunstall to Cromwell, of which the
follo'.ving is an extract, speaks for itself.*
•'I beseech also your Lordship to kno.v the King's
pleasure touching the two Friars Observants, that we
write of in the King's letter.^ Surely best it were to
receive them to mercy, for other fault we cannot find
in them, but their obstinacy to have cleaved heretofore
to the Bishop of Rome, which now they will leave and
forsake, as they say to us. And their entering into the
King's realm again without licence or pardon, after they
were commanded to avoid the realm by the King's
lieutenant, is another fault, which .ve would know the
King's pleasure in, how he doth weigh it. For it h not
unlike that if these men be received to r/iercy, all the
residue, or some of them that likewise v.ere commanded
to avoid, will follow. In which matter we beseech you we
may know the King's pleasure. From York, the 13th
day of November." '
- P.R.O., Miscellaneous Letters, 2nd Series, vol. xliv. fol. 322.
¦* ] have unfortunately bean unable hitherto to find this important
document. * Ltmon appends the following note to the printed version : —
" Their names are stated, in the letter to the King, to be Thomas
Danyell, bom in Devonshire and professed at Canterbury, and Henry
Bokkery, a lay-brother, not professed, born in Old Lynne. They
were amongst those who during the late commotion entered into the

44 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
Richard Marshall, prior of the convent of Blackfriars
in Newcastle, thus wrote to his community : — " I have
fled for fear of my life, in consequence of my preaching
in Advent, and the first Sunday in Lent. I am noted
to be none of the King's friends, though I love him as
a true Christian man ought to do, because I have not, ac
cording to his commandment, prayed for him as Supreme
Head of the Church, nor declared him to be so in my
sermons. On the contrary, I have declared St. Peter
and his successors to be Christ's vicars on earth, that to
him Christ gave the charge of all the churches in the
world, and to the other Apostles the charge of particular
churches. " I was admonished to preach at Newcastle, and pray
for the King as Supreme Head, and declare him to be
so, which I cannot do lawfully, as it is against the
Scripture and the doctrine of the Church, as appears in
the Decretals, which I was sworn openly in the University
of Oxford to declare, and stick unto. It is also contrary
to many General Councils ; to the interpretation of
holy doctors ; to all the universities and general schools
of Christendom, except a few lately corrupted by Luther's
heresies ; to the consent of all Christian people, and to
the profession of my Order, which is immediately subject
to the Pope.
" I have therefore thought it best for me to flee, and
give place to ire, as Christ commanded. I would willingly
tarry and suffer death for my opinions, but the flesh is
weak. I desire you therefore to choose another prior
secondary, and to pray for me."-'*
This letter is valuable, not only on account of its
hv^Nnrflu^ ^T ^"^•''' at Newcastle, were expelled from thence
by Norfolk, and went into Scotland, from whence (as they said on
being taken into custody by Sir Robek Bowes) they removed^for very
misery, and great penury." State Papers of Henry VIIL, vol. v. p
'¦• Cleop. E. iv. fol. 127, Cotton MSS. B.M.

SUPREME HEAD. 45
pathetic interest, but as an example of the position of
many who, in that terrible time of scourge and desolation,
had a firm grasp of the truth, and boldness enough to
declare it, but who were not' called to the honour of
martyrdom. As for the two Observants to be received " to mercy,"
it was a sorry triumph for the King and Cromwell, that of
the whole Order, but two starved and hunted individuals
could be brought, by all the machinery of persecution at
their command, to falter an unwilling denial of the Pope's
authority.

CHAPTER III.
BLESSED JOHN FOREST.
1471 — 1538.
We have hitherto only seen Father Forest through the
jaundiced eyes of Brother Lyst, and we must now piece to
gether the precious fragments of his history which survived
alike the malice of his enemies and the ruin and decay of
nearly four centuries. Of his career before the opening of the
great drama in which he played so noble a part, there is
unfortunately little to be gathered. The story of his youth,
passed in the studious and prayerful silence of his cell, is a
bare outline, fading away entirely here and there.
Born of an honourable and wealthy family, in the year
1471, he was educated, says the Oxford historian Anthony
a Wood, in piety and learning. At the age of twenty
he took the habit of St Francis at Greenwich, and at
twenty-six began his theological studies among the friars
living at the Water-Gate, in the south suburb of Oxford.
But scarcely have we found a link which seems to con
nect him with a more familiar period of his life, than one
of those disappointing gaps occurs which no research
avails to fill up. When and where he took his degree,
must remain a mystery, although Stow, Holinshed, How
and others all give him the title of Doctor. Sander writes
of himas the learned Dr. John Forest ; and Father Parkin
son suggests that he may have studied and taken honours
at the University of Paris. Dodd ignores any obscurity
says he made a good figure in the University (of Oxford),

BLESSED JOHN FOREST. 47
and being created D.D., became afterwards confessor to
Queen Catherine, and on the decease of Stephen Baron,
confessor to Henry VIIL, was made Provincial of the
English Franciscans.'
Unfortunately, there is no positive proof of the first and
last part of this statement as we have been unable to dis
cover any trace of his having taken a degree at Oxford,-
although this may be accounted for, by the wholesale dis
appearance and destruction of documents at the time of the
dissolution. Certain it is, that his reputation for learning
was only second to his wide-spread fame for sanctity, and
that Queen Catherine, herself pious and learned in no small
measure, chose him for her confessor. But even as late
as 1525, it is only by inference that his biographers have
arrived at the conclusion that he must then have ruled as
Provincial in England, since they find him exercising
functions which they consider as belonging to none other
than a provincial.
The event was as follows : —
Cardinal Wolsey was entitled, as legate a latere, to make
a canonical visitation of all monasteries and religious
houses in the kingdom, and he announced his intention
of visiting the Observants at Greenwich. They, however,
were by special dispensation, exempt from visitation and
legatine jurisdiction,' and expressed their disapproval
by absenting themselves. For this they were severely
blamed by Father Forest, who, being appointed to preach
at St. Paul's Cross, on the following Sunday, solemnly
cursed nineteen of the rebellious friars.
' " Church History of England,'' vol. i. p. 236. Mr. A. G. Little,
writing in the " English Historical Review" (October 1 891) says in
his Chronology of the Provincial Ministers of the Friars Minor in
England, that he finds no authority for the statement made by various
modern writers that John Forest's Observant was provincial.
^ Anthony a Wood records his supplication to the "Venerable
Regents " that he might be admitted to oppose in the faculty, in order
to obtain the degree of Bachelor of Divinity at Oxford.
^ Coll. Angl. Min. p. 224.

48 FAITHFUL UNTO DEA TH.
The act was undoubtedly a strong one, and upon it
alone rests the assumption that Father Forest was entitled
to exercise supreme authority.
But while we think the grounds for this supposition
insufficient, the point of interest lies for us in the fact
that in Forest's estimation no privilege or exemption
released the brethren from the reverence they owed to
papal authority, in the person of the Pope's legate. In
theory, the Greenwich Observants were doubtless right,
since their refusal to open their doors to Wolsey, met
with no censure from Rome, and the Legate afterwards
desisted from any attempt to visit them ; ' but in the
manner of the repulse, they were undoubtedly wrong,
and Forest saw in it a flaw in their loyal attitude towards
the See of Peter, of which he was so jealous a watchman.
At the time in which Father Forest lived, and for a
long time afterwards, a man's enemies might be reckoned
in proportion to his loyalty to Rome. This accounts for
the calumnies set afoot concerning him by the King's
party, and repeated in more or less good faith by
Burnet and others. The chief of these calumnies was to
the effect that Forest took the oath of Supremacy, and
that when examined for having told people in confession
that the King was not Supreme Head of the Church, he
replied that he took the oath with his outer man, but
that his inner man never consented thereunto.' If this
¦• Coll. Angl. Min. p. 224. Nevertheless, among the letters of Leo
X. to Wolsey, is one, in which he recommends to that Cardinal's
favour the Friars Observants, saying that they are willing to submit
to his visitation. It was written apparently in 1519. See Brewer
Cal. III. Part I. p. 195.
^ Stow "Annals," p. 575.
Many honest men, it is true, took the oath conditionally, with the
addition of a modifying clause, " As far as it is allowed by the law of
Christ," and numbers of people who refused to take the oath of Supre
macy later on, had subscribed to it with this reservation. Doctor
Pits says : " Forest was a Doctor of Divinity, and a man of most
virtuous life, and very zealous for the support of the Catholic faith '
and religion, and he laboured, taught and writ, with an indefatigable

BLESSED JOHN FOREST. 49
were true, it would be in such direct opposition to all
that we know of Father Forest's firmness under trial, of
his strength of character, his sincerity and fearlessness,
that his life would be a hopeless tangle of contradictions.
It would have been so poor a preparation for a martyr's
death, that instead of the cry of jubilation with which he
greeted the fire and gallows, we should expect to hear
him bartering for his life at the stake. But one who had
stood up and publicly denounced his brethren, for their
resistance to the representative of the Pope, one who,
in the face of the King's ruthless passion, had per
sisted in an attitude which said as plainly as words could
say, " It is not lawful for thee to have this woman to
wife," was not the man to condescend to a mean subter
fuge, in order to save a life which he had repeatedly ex
posed with the greatest indifference. He was by his
position, by his acknowledged virtue and by his talents,
a leader of men. Through his influence, the friars of
Greenwich had been guided safely, amid the shoals and
quicksands of the divorce and the royal supremacy, and if
he had succumbed with his " outer man," he would have
been the only member of his community to take the oath.*
In endeavouring to trace the libel to its source, we
come upon the testimony of Hall's Chronicle, an autho-
industry, in opposition to the fatal schism begun by Henry VIIL,
and for the authority of the Church and of the Pope ; and his book
upon this subject was an unpardonable addition to his denying the
King's Supremacy, especially when he refused to retract what he had
asserted therein." There was perhaps no reason why the martyr
should not have added a modifying clause, and so have taken the
oath ; but we have no proof that he did, and the contention is, not
that he signed what he could honestly accept, but that he made a
dishonourable compromise with his conscience. See CoU. Anglo.
Min. p. 243. Neither Sander nor Bourchier mention the oath in
connection with Father Forest, and it would have been impos
sible for them to have ignored it, if he had sworn, even in a
restricted sense. Anthony k Wood assumes that he did swear, but
Wood's authority was Hall, or rather Richard Grafton, the value of
whose miscellaneous sweepings has been greatly exaggerated.
° Canon Dixon's " History of the Church of England," vol. ii. p. 56.

so FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
ity supposed to carry weight, Hall being a contem
porary of Henry VIIL, and during the first twenty-four
years of his reign, a diligent writer of passing events.
After this time he wrote no more, although he did not
die till 1547; but Richard Grafton, a bitter Protestant,
gathered all his papers together, anonymous or authentic
as the case might be, and published everything he found,
indiscriminately, together with the finished work.'
" Possibly," say Mr. Leslie Stephen and Sidney Lee,
"after 1532, Hall found the office of royal panegyrist
beset with difficulties and dangers."* Hall is therefore
not responsible for the statement referring to Father
Forest, as he had long ceased to write when the oath was
framed. Grafton, however, declares that he added
nothing of his own, and it seems probable that the state
ment made in what commonly goes by the name of
Hall's work, and the story told by Wriothesley four years
later, have one and the same origin, the real author re
maining incognito.
.A curious and interesting Spanish chronicle, written by
one who was evidently an eye-witness of many of the scenes
he describes, tells how, when the commissioners arrived to
administer the oath, Father Forest went to a place fifty
miles from London, and as soon as they reached the convent
where he was, he went back to London, and so got off.'
Another account says that he was imprisoned some
time before Parliament had declared the King's Supremacy.
That Act became law on the i8th November, 1534, and
Bourchier, almost a contemporary, and one of the chief
authorities for his life, says that he was in prison during
the four years that preceded his martyrdom. If this state
ment be correct, Father Forest must have been deprived
' Preface to " Hall's Chronicle." Richard Grafton to the Reader,
p. 7, ed. 1809.
' Dictionary of National Biography, " Hall."
" " A Chronicle of King Henry VIIL, written in Spanish by an un
known hand," translated by A. Sharp Hume. " How a Doctor was
burnt, and why." The author's name was Garzias.

BLESSED JOHN FOREST. s i
of his liberty in the spring of 1534, if not earlier ; and if he
had been willing to take the oath, as his enemies declared
he was, there would have been no necessity for him to
have remained in prison. But we can hardly reconcile his
imprisonment at that time with the fact that he was accus
tomed to hear confessions at the church of the Grey Friars.
It was rumoured before long, that he made use of the con
fessional to influence people against the Royal Supremacy,
and Lord Mordaunt, who was known to have made his
confession to him, seems to have got into some trouble in
consequence. There is among the Cotton manuscripts, a
curious document beginning with a devout commemoration
of the " most dread Sovereign Lord King He nry VIIL,
. . . . Defender of the Faith, . . . . and in earth the Supreme
Head of the Church of England." The object of the docu
ment appears to be the exculpation of Lord Mordaunt
from any taint of loyalty to the Pope, contracted in his
confession to Father Forest. It describes how he sent
to the Grey Friars to know " what ghostly fathers did
there use for to hear confessions," being minded for to
be confessed before his departure from London. His
messenger, Sir William Hemmyng, a priest, first in
quired for one Friar Robyns, but as he was not there,
the porter, to his further questioning made reply that
there was one Friar Forest, "who said the Lady Mass."
Lord Mordaunt accordingly went to the Grey Friars, and
after his confession, said to Father Forest, " Ask what you
like and I will pay you forty pence to buy it with."
" Whereupon the said friar desired the said lord, to cause
it to be delivered to the said porter for his coal." This,
Lord Mordaunt declared, was all that passed between
Father Forest and himself, and the document concludes
thus : —
"As for the Bishop of Rome, or any speaking with
the said Friar Forest of the said Bishop of Rome, or in
any matter concerning the said bishop or his authority,
E 2

52 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
or any matter touching the King or the Bishop of Rome,
there never was such matter touched, opened or mooted
by the friar or his said lord or either of them." ^
But his enemies were determined that the reports cir
culated about him should be true, and the above-mentioned
Spanish chronicle tells how " a gentleman asked him in
confession, ' Father, my conscience troubles me since I
took the oath to the King as Head of the Church, and I
now repent of having done so.' Forest, not thinking of
the malice of his penitent, answered, ' My son, God
only asks for repentance, and if you have that, God
will forgive you.' Before he could say more, the penitent
asked him whether he had himself taken the oath, to
which Forest replied, ' No indeed, I would rather burn
than swear such a thing.' Then the man arose and
went away saying, ' I do not want to know any more.'
He went straight to Cranmer and denounced him." ^
Meanwhile, Queen Catherine, the innocent cause of all
the cruel persecution, was closely guarded in her prison
at Bugden. " The Queen has not been out of her room
since the Duke of Suffolk was with her," wrote Chapuys,
on the 17th of January, 1534, "except to hear Mass in a
gallery. She will not eat or drink what the new servants
provide. The little she eats, in her anguish, is prepared
by her chamberwomen, and her room is used as her
kitchen. She is very badly lodged."
Henry watched her every movement as a cat watches
a mouse, in the hope of obtaining some handle against
her. But in the whole course of the seven years during
which the divorce was pending, she conducted herself
so as to win praise even from her greatest enemies.*
The visit of the Duke of Suffolk, to which Chapuys
alludes, was attended by the most cruel results. All her
^ Cotton MS. Cleop. E. iv. fol. 130.
' Spanish Chronicle, " How a Doctor was burnt and why "
Dodd, " Church Hist, of Eng." vol. i. p. 250.

BLESSED JOHN FORES T. 5 3
ladies and servants were dismissed, and others brought
from the North, "for other reasons than to serve her."
They were charged to take her to a house surrounded
with deep water and marshes, the most unhealthy and
pestilential in the kingdom. Catherine refused to go,
unless they removed her by force. " The King," con
tinues Chapuys, " at the solicitation of the Lady, whom he
dares not contradict, has determined to place the Queen
in the sSd house, either to get rid of her, or to make
sure of her, as the house is strong, and besides, she is
seven miles from another house, situated in a lake which
we cannot approach within six miles. The King and
the Lady have agreed to seek all possible occasions to
shut up the Queen within the said island, and failing
all other pretexts, to accuse her of being insane." *
Anne's principal cause of anger against Catherine was
the devoted affection shown to the hapless Queen by all
classes. On her journey towards the house from which
the Duke of Suffolk was commissioned to remove her
by force, the whole route along which she, passed, was
thronged with an enthusiastic crowd. " Notwith
standing that it has been forbidden, on pain of death,
to call her Queen, they shouted it out at the top of
their voices, wishing her joy, repose, and prosperity, and
confusion to her enemies. They begged her with hot
tears to set them to work, and employ them in her
service, as they were ready to die for the love of her." ^

¦• Chapuys to Charles V., 23rd Dec, 1533. Vienna Archives.
>¦ Same to same, 30th July, 1533, id.
While the proceedings against the Queen's marriage were pending
thirty women were arrested at Oxford and imprisoned in Bocardo
for three days and three nights, for assaulting Nicholas, the King's
advocate. Anthony \ Wood, Bodleian MSS., 18 D.
Every device was employed to blast Catherine's fair fame. The
King's spies scrutinized her life from all points, in the hope of finding
some flaw in her moral character. The smallest fault would have
been magnified into a weapon wherewith to strike her, but absolutely
nothing was found that could be construed into lightness or even im-

54 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
In the midst of her privations, and the daily fear of
what Henry might next attempt against her, it added not
a little to her sufferings, to know what others were
enduring in her behalf, and for the sake of the truth
which her cause represented. It is probable that she did
not know of Henry's proceedings against the Observants
collectively, but she was well informed of Father Forest's
danger, and wrote him the following brave and consoling
letter :— « •
" My Honoured Father, — You who have had so
long experience in directing others in doubtful matters,
can have no difficulty in directing yourself ; for not only
will your religion, but your learning also convince you,
that you ought to be prepared, if it be necessary, to suffer
death for the name of Christ, and under such circum
stances not to shrink from so doing. Go- onwards then,
and be of good courage, for if in these torments you en
dure a small amount of pain, you are well assured that
you will receive an eternal reward. To relinquish such a
reward as this for the dread of the suffering, might well
be accounted the act of a confirmed madman.
" But alas for me, your daughter ! one born to you in
the wounds of Christ, whom for a season you leave here
in her solitude ; leave, I repeat, in the depth of her dis
tress and affliction. And this I may venture to say
prudence. Du Boys, " Catherine d'Aragon : pieces iustificatives "
Notes et Eclaircissements, i. '
" The originals of the six following letters have unhappily disap
peared. Father Thomas Bourchier must have had them in his
possession when he translated them into Latin and inserted them into
his " Historia Ecclesiastica." There are three editions of his book in
the British Museum, one published in 1582, another in 1583 and an
other in 1586 But the editions of 1582 and 1586 are virtually the
same, although the title-page is different. The only perfectly correct
version of the letters is probably contained in the edition of ii;83
which we have followed. Some of the. various printed re-translations
have been made from one of these versions, some from another, and
errors have therefore slipped m. Raynaldi's version of Catherine's
letter to Father Forest differs somewhat from Bourchier's, as also
his text of the answer. '

BLESSED JOHN FOREST. 55
because I am losing him whom alone I followed in the
things of God, because I knew him to be deeply in
structed in human and divine knowledge. And of a
truth, if I may freely express ' to you what I wish, I
would rather go before you through a thousand torments
than follow after you. And even were it possible to
obtain what one most earnestly desires, who is there,
I ask, who would be content to live upon nothing but
hope ?
" Casting aside therefore my own individual wishes, I
would prefer that the whole of these matters should
remain in the hands of Him who gave us Himself for
our example. This He did when He said ' Thy will be
done,' thereby giving up His own will, rather than
gratify His own inclinations. You will go before me, yes,
you will precede me, but your prayers will obtain for me,
that I should follow you along- the same pathway, advanc
ing, as I trust, with an ever braver and steadier footstep.
Onwards then ; be assured that albeit the pangs that you
suffer be grievous, yet I share them along with you-
Without doubt, they shall earn for you a crown which
never withers, a crown prepared for those who end;ire
for the name of Christ, provided that with unflinching
and unwavering courage you suffer the agonies which
are awaiting you. Remember your ancient and noble
family, and this thought will assuredly animate you to
bear with a brave spirit the death which awaits you for
the name of Christ. You who are illustrious by the
title of your family, will not basely defile its nobility by
yielding to the impious demands of the King. I do not
forget that you esteem the dignity of your Order in so
far, and no farther, as it is correspondent with virtue.
Surrender then, and with all joy, that body of yours to
its Creator, that body which for so long a period has
led a holy life under the garb of the poor Institute of
St. Franci=.

56 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
"And yet, when I, your obedient daughter, remember
how great will be the sorrow which I shall endure for
your sake, I know not what to say.. This arises chiefly
from the thought that you are leaving me without com
fort of any kind. My abode in this world, and my
anticipations, can be nothing else than misery ; a real
death in a living life. Nevertheless, I trust in the Lord,
to whom I have said, 'Thou art my lot in the land of
the living,' that land in which I hope to meet you shortly,
when the storms of this world shall have ended, and I
shall have passed into the peaceful life of the blessed.
" Farewell, my honoured Father, and always remember
me in your prayers while on earth, and I trust they
will be my chiefest consolation when you shall have
obtained an entrance into the Kingdom of Heaven.
" Your daughter Catherine, with a heart full of sorrow."
This letter was written when Father Forest had
been about two years in Newgate prison. He had
employed his hours of leisure in writing a book " On the
authority of the Church and of the Pope," in which he had
condemned the pride and impiety of the King, because
he did not scruple to entitle himself Supreme Head
of the Church, and to take upon himself that of which
he was not capable, whereas, if he had wished to be
a true member of the Catholic Church, he ought to
have given God thanks that he was such, and have re
mained humbly in the Church, instead of trying to tear
it to pieces. The book having come to the knowledge
of the inquisitors, they reported the matter to the King.'
Forest was ordered to appear before the Privy Council, over
which Cromwell presided. His condemnation was a
foregone conclusion, and sentence was passed upon him
to suffer death by fire and the gallows.
' Anthony k Wood, Athen. Oxon. vol. i. p. io8. The opening words
Is^Aaron." "° '"''" ^''""" '° himself the honour, unless he be called,

BLESSED JOHN FOREST. 57
Both Father Forest himself and Catherine were under
the impression that the sentence was to be carried out
immediately, and he accordingly wrote the following letter
to the Queen, believing that he was to suffer in three
days : —
" My most serene Lady Queen and my very dear
daughter in the bowels of Jesus Christ.
" I have received your letters from Thomas, your young
servant, and having read them, I experienced an incredible
joy by reason of your great steadfastness in the truth
which I perceive in you — I. mean your faith in the Holy
Church your Mother. Standing firm in this, you will
assuredly obtain salvation. Nor have you any reason to
be doubtful on my account, as if I could submit to disgrace
my grey hairs by any such fickleness. In the meantime,
I earnestly entreat you to be unwearied in your prayers
to God for me (for whose spouse the Church we are
suffering so many and so severe torments), that He
would receive me into His glory, for which I have striven
so frequently as a member of the Order of St. Francis,
namely for forty-four years, and am now in the sixty-
fourth year of my age. At such a period of life as this
a man easily perceives that people can do without him ;
consequently I am most earnest in my prayer that I may
be dissolved to be with Christ.
" In the mean season, do you be careful to shun that
pestilential teaching of the heretics so thoroughly that,
even if an angel were to come down from heaven bringing
with him a doctrine different from that which I brought
you, on no account ought you to give any credence to his
message, but to reject it. Should he advance any
revelation which dissents from that which I taught you
long ago, give no ear to it, for it does not come from God.
Take these few words as if in place of the consolation
which you may expect chiefly from our Lord Jesus Christ,
to whom I chiefly recommend you, as also to my father

58 FAITHFUL UNTO DEA TH.
St. Francis and St. Catherine, to whom I most earnestly
entreat you to pray for me, when you shall hear that I
am in the midst of my sufferings. And now I bid you
farewell. I have sent rny rosary to you, for only three
days of my life remain to me." *
The next letter is from Mrs. Elizabeth Hammond, one
of the Queen's ladies.
" My Most Honoured Father, — You would scarce
trust me were I to tell you how deeply my Lady, the most
serene Queen, and I are grieved on hearing of your
sufferings, at once so severe and acute, and this we do
all the more because we are deprived of all consolation.
Hence it is that my Lady weeps and prays without
intermission. If it be possible, by any means for you
to escape (from prison), through the aid of certain of
our friends, I entreat you not to leave us orphans with
out you : for we are in dread that my Lady the Queen
would be so agitated^by such an event, that she would fall
into an illness which would end fatally. And this we dread
all the more since the Kings fury is so great that the
Queen seems unable to endure it Last Monday, the
King's ministers came here seeking we know not for what,
and they terrified us so dreadfully with their threats
that we scarce know what counsel to follow, so that we
are utterly ignorant what the King's intention was in
thus alarming us. This one thing I ask of you, namely,
that you would pray for me and my companion Dorothy
Lichfield, who heartily salutes you. Farewell, and pray
to God for us."
This letter elicited the following reply from the
martyr : —
8 Ribadeneyra, in his " Historia Ecclesiastica del Scisma del
Reyno de Inglaterra," gives these two first letters in Spanish. They
differ somewhat in expression from any of the other versions, and do
not read like translations. It is possible that they may be simply
copies of the originals, which are not unlikely to have been written
in Spanish, as Father Forest understood that; language perfectly.

blessed john forest. 59
" My Beloved Daughter, Elizabeth Hammond, —
Very heartily am I grieved for the deep sorrow which
you and your mistress feel about the pains which I have
to undergo, just as if there were not a resurrection to
glory. Such thoughts have no place in the pious acts
which with others I frequently inculcated. If I ever
taught what you here propose, let it be known that I
erred widely from the way of truth. If I were willing
to break my faith and hand myself over to the Devil,
through dread of suffering and the desire of the
riches of this world, I could, beyond a doubt, easily
escape. Learn, therefore, rather faithfully to suffer for
the truth of the Christian creed, and to die for Christ's
spouse and your Mother the Church, and do not attempt
to turn me from those torments by which I hope to
attain eternal happiness. Follow, I entreat you, in the
footsteps of the Queen your "mistress; imitate the bright
example which you find in her ; and pray for me, that
my tormentors may add to the keenness of the torments
which they mean to inflict upon me, since they are but
trifles when they will contribute to the glory of God.
Farewell in the Lord."
In the year 1533, Thomas Abel, the Queen's confessor
and director of music in her chapel, was imprisoned
for the part he took in opposing the divorce. He was
liberated on condition that he neither wrote nor preached
till a fortnight after Easter.' Subsequently, on his re
fusal to take the oath of Supremacy he was again thrown
into prison, tortured thirty-seven times in the year 1537,
and executed in 1540. He thus wrote to Father
Forest : —
"Very Reverend Father, — Although our senses
dread the weight of the torture, yet our faith demands
and requires us to bear it. I said, ' My foot is moved,
1 Chapuys to Charles V., Jan. 3, 1533. Vienna Archives.

6o FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

because Thou hast turned away Thy face.' But where
fore this delay to one who so eagerly longs for that
supreme blessedness ? O blessed Face, in which is the
fulness of joy ! Wherefore David says, ' I shall be
satisfied, when Thy glory shall appear,' but 'Thou hast
turned away Thy face from me, and I became troubled,'
because the agony of the torture is prolonged ; it is pro
longed, and at the same time I am humbled, humbled
and not raised up, because I am not drawn to my Saviour ;
not drawn, because burdened by the weight of my sins,
burdened, and not refreshed by Him. How far then am
I benefited by my condemnation, if I have to wait yet
longer.'' 'Waiting I have waited, and He has not re
garded me' I ask. Why ? Because you have not implored
for me the mercy of God, by pouring out your prayers
to Him for me ; for I know of what weight is the prayer
of the just man with God. For 'with the Lord there is
mercy, and with Him is plenteous redemption.' There
fore, Thou hast delivered Thy servant for the sake of
David. Why then is not there an end to these tortures ?
I have endured them now for seven and thirty days, and
I find no rest. But my hope is that we shall die together
in the same punishment. Let us die, I pray, that we may
live with Him, to whom at this hour of prayer I abundantly
commend you — to Him, the Martyr of all Martyrs. Fare
well, and pray for me."
To this Father Forest replied : —
" In proportion to the clearness of knowledge will be
the fruition of joy in eternal habitations. Whence it
is that St. Augustine, in his book ' Of the City of God,'
writes that as there are many mansions in one home, so
in like manner will the .dignities of the reward vary.
But where God will be all in all, there the joy will
vary in its brightness, so that what each possesses
individually may be the common property of all. The
glory of the Head will be the glory of all of them

BLESSED JOHN FOREST. 6i
through the bond of charity ; and thus each individual
will rejoice at the happiness of his neighbour, just as
much as if it were his own. Therefore, my son, do not
count up your tortures, for this is to add pain to pain ;
but rather remember what St. Paul says when he reckons
' that the sufferings of this world are not worthy to be
compared with the glory which shall be revealed.' To
these words we may well add the saying of the Prophet,
' a thousand years with the Lord are but as yesterday.'
For if you patiently endure the sufferings which are
inflicted upon you, doubt not as to your reward, of which
the Psalmist says, ' I have inclined my heart to do Thy
justifications for ever, on account of the reward.' O
blessed and thrice happy reward, w^hich God gives to those
who fear Him ! So that we may pray, ' Lord, reward
Thy servant,' but only upon the understanding — ' because
I have kept Thy words.'
" If then there be a reward for keeping the words of
the Lord, do you keep them, my son .? For how long ?
Even to the end ; for He says, ' He that endures to the
end, the same shall be saved.' So then it is neither the
tortures of thirty-seven days, nor of a thousand years, that
shall crown your work, but the last end. With labourers,
the toil of a single day does not count as a full year.
They who are hired to go to Rome do not receive as
much as they who go to Jerusalem. If you have been so
careful as to go as far as Rome, do you not think you
can reach Jerusalem 1 Jerusalem, I say, the city of the
great King. You will recognize her by her dwellings,
you will understand her when you become her inmate,
her, I repeat, in whom is supreme peace and the most
perfect calm. Think you, my son, that we shall run
together and rejoice in one suffering, and drink of the
same chalice t A greater combat awaits me, but for you
a lighter trial is in store. But of whatever character these
sufferings may be, play the man, and the Lord will hold
you up. Farewell."

62 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

Although we have for the sake of convenience brought
these six letters together in this place, they were not
written all at one time, the two last being probably of a
much later date than the first four. Contrary to the
expectation of all, Father Forest was left to languish in
Newgate for more than two years after the passing of
his sentence and his farewell letter to the Queen, while
Catherine died in the beginning of 1536. She must have
been kept in ignorance of the suppression of the Obser
vants, for, on the day of her death she sent a special request
to the King through Chapuys that her body might be laid
in one of their churches.^ She also'bequeathed her robes
and dresses to the Observants, to be used as church vest
ments. But the King said, " as to the robes bequeathed
to the Franciscan convents, it was an unnecessary and vain
bequest, one which could not really be carried out, inas
much as there was a superabundant quantity of ecclesi
astical ornaments in the Church of England. Instead of
that, some endowment might be made to the abbey in
which the Queen's body would be interred, which would
be a more suitable donation and one far more worthy of
notice, than that of her own robes and vestments. The
Princess might have everything her mother left her,
and anything she liked to ask for, provided she showed
herself a dutiful daughter, obedient to her father's com
mands."^ No donation, however, appears to have been made to the
Abbey of Peterborough, where Catherine was buried, and
Henry seized all his wife's effects, although Chancellor

1 Chapuys to Charles V., 21st Jan., 1536 : " The Lady Catherine, in
her memorandum of last wishes, desired to be buried in a convent of
Observant Friars. Cromwell replied that as to the burial it could
not be done where she had desired, for there remained no convent of
Observants in England." In the same letter Chapuys speaks of
the love Mary bore her mother, who was her chief refuge in her
troubles. = Gayangos, Cal. v., State Papers, pt. ii. p. 16, Spanish.

BLESSED JOHN FOREST. 63
Rich told him that he could not lawfully retain her pro
perty. For in what quality could he claim it ? Only as
her lawful husband, and he had repudiated that title.^
It was in May 1538, that our martyr's "greater com
bat" began and ended. His enemies finally resolved
to proceed against him for heresy, although, says Collier,
" by what law they could stretch his crime to heresy is
hard to discover, for he was tried only for dissuading
his penitents in confession from owning the King's
Supremacy." '' He was examined at Lambeth by a
commission presided over by Cranmer. As to what
passed here and in the interval of ten days between his
examination and his martyrdom, many false witnesses
have arisen, but they all repeat Wriothesley's story.
According to him. Father Forest abjured his heresy, and
swore on the Gospel to do penance at Paul's Cross, bear
ing a fagot as a heretic, which he afterwards " obstinately
and frowardly " refused to do.°
Holinshed says, going upon exactly the same lines,
" Upon his submission, having more liberty than before
he had to talk with whom he would, and others having
liberty to talk with him, he was incensed by some such
as had conference with him, that when his formal ab
juration was sent, to him to read and peruse, he utterly
refused it, and obstinately stood in all his heresies and
treasons." ^
Doubtless, articles abjuring the Pope's authority were
=* Du Boys, " Catherine d'Aragon," p. 514.
¦• " Eccles. History," ii. p. 149.
^ "A Chronicle of England during the Reigns of the Tudors," by
Charles Wriothesley, Windsor Herald, edited froni a MS. in the posses
sion of Lieutenant- General Lord Henry H. M. Percy, K.C.B. etc., by
Wm. Douglas Hamilton (Camden Society). Charles Wriothesley was
a near relation of the celebrated statesman of Henry the Eighth's reign,
afterwards created Earl of Southampton, the secret friend of the
Observants. But the author of the " Chronicle " had no leaning to
wards the religious Orders, but went entirely with Henry in his
ruthless Nationalism and greed.
° Vol. iii. p. 945.

64 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
drawn up and presented to Father Forest to sign, but
the very words of Holinshed prove that he did not sign
them. 'For if Cranmer had obtained his signature, the
triumph of his enemies would have been complete, and
there would have been no need to send him back to
prison. They would have obtained all they had ever
asked, and would naturally have made much of him.
But it is perfectly comprehensible that not having suc
ceeded with him at Lambeth, they should have made one
more effort, and have sent him the form of abjuration
which he still " obstinately and frowardly " refused to
sign. Again, it is extremely unlikely that if, after years of
patience, the King's party had conquered his resistance
at last, they would have sent him the precious document
" to read and peruse," they knowing him to have already
repented. Not only are Sander and Bourchier silent as
to the charge, but Foxe, always so ready to make much
of any tale to the discredit of Catholics, makes no mention
of any projected penance at Paul's Cross. Wriothesley
was not the only dupe, for Latimer also believed the
story, and is said to have read the articles of abjuration
on the day appointed, when all but the "penitent" had
assembled. Nothing could have given the lie to the story more
completely than Father Forest's own conduct at his
execution, which took place ten days after his appearance
at Lambeth. Not only was there no sign or shadow
of weakness in him, but there was no contrition for any
act of infidelity, no craving for pardon because of a
broken trust, no cry of "This hath offended," such as
Cranmer's, w^ho now sat calmly to see him die. Father
Forest's death was a jubilant death, full of faith and con
fidence—" not even if an angel came down from heaven,
to teach him any other doctrine than what he had received
from his youth, would he believe him ; and if his body
should be cut joint after joint, or member after member.

BLESSED JOHN FOREST. 65
hanged, burned, or what pain soever might be done to
his body, he would never turn from his old profession."
When he came to the place of execution, seeing a great
pile of fagots and straw prepared, he cried, with a loud
voice full of courage, " O Lord God, neither fire nor
gallows, nor any torments whatsoever, shall part me from
Thee ! " Then he was, according to Foxe, led to " where
a pair of new gallows was set up to receive him, and he
was hanged thereon, by the middle and arm-pits, quick,
and under the gallows a fire being made, he was burnt
and utterly consumed to ashes."
Latimer was appointed by Cromwell to preach the
stake sermon, and he wrote the following letter accepting
the commission. It is unequalled for flippancy and
heartlessness. " Sir, — If it be your pleasure, as it is, that I shall play
the fool after my customable manner, when Forest shall
suffer, I should wish that my stage stood near unto Forest,
for I would endeavour myself so to content the people
that therewith I might also convert Forest, God so help
ing, or rather altogether working. Wherefore I would
that he shall hear what I shall say, si forte, &c. Forest,
as I hear, is not duly accompanied in Newgate for his
amendment, with the White Friars ot Doncaster and
monks of the Charterhouse, in a fit chamber, more like
to indurate than mollify ; whether through the fault of
the sheriff or of the jailor, or both, no man could sooner
discern than your lordship. Some think he is rather
comforted in his way than discouraged ; some think he
is allowed both to hear Mass and also to receive the
Sacrament ; which, if it be so, it is enough to confirm him
in his obstinacy, as though he were to suffer for a just
cause : these things would be tried, ut retegantur ex multis
cordibus cogitationes. It is to be feared that some instilled
' Coll. Anglo. Min. p. 243.

66 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
into him, that though he had persevered in his abjuration
yet he should have suffered afterwards for treason ; and
so by that occasion he might have been induced to refuse
his abjuration. If he would yet with heart return to his
abjuration, I would wish his pardon ; such is my foolish
ness." *
It was on the 28th of May, 1538, that Father Forest was
drawn on a hurdle from Newgate to Smithfield. Wriothes
ley, who was present at the execution, estimated the by
standers at above ten thousand persons. The line from
St Paul's to Cheapside was a row of goldsmiths' shops,
and the road lay through this busy thoroughfare, the
vendors exhibiting their wares to the passers-by. The
cross " in Cheep," newly gilt five years before, for Anne's
coronation, looked down upon the sorrowful procession,
of which that other had been the beginning. The pomp
and display begun at the Tower, were ending in fire and
blood at Smithfield.
The Spanish chronicler before mentioned, who was un
doubtedly an eye-witness of the martydom, thus describes
the scene : —
" Two platforms were erected at Smithfield ; a gibbet
was put up, and a great store of wood. One platform
had a pulpit, the other a chair. A stand was erected
for the members of the Council, and a proclamation had
been made all over London, that Latimer would preach
at eight in the morning, till eleven. When all had taken
their seats. Forest, about sixty-five years of age, was
brought He mounted the platform .and took the chair,
while Latimer got into the pulpit. When he had been
preaching about an hour, he said : ' Dr. Forest, above all
I am astonished that thou, whom I hold for one of the
most learned men in the realm, should be accused of
being a Papist, and I refuse to be believe it till I hear
» Crom. Corr. vol, xlix. i, 518. "Latimer's Remains." vol. ii. p. 391.

BLESSED JOHN FOREST. 67
it from thine own mouth.' Forest replied, ' Thou hast
known me for many years, Latimer, and I am still more
astonished at thee, that for the pomps of the world thou
hast endangered thine own soul. Dost thou not recollect
what thou didst write me against the Emperor, when he
was against Rome and the Pope, and how thou with all
thy voice didst denounce them all as heretics ? Recollect
how we, the doctors of the Church, considered the act and
condemned it, and decided that those who did it should
be excommunicated. What wert thou then, Latimer, a
Papist or a heretic ^ ' To which Latimer replied, ' I am
no heretic, but rather was I then deceived, and am now
enlightened with the Holy Spirit, and if thou wilt call
upon thy better self, thou also wilt receive the light, for
thou art now blind.' ' Oh, Latimer,' said the good Doctor,
' I think thou hast other things in thy heart I but since
the King has made thee from a poor student into a
bishop, thou art constrained to say this. Open thou thine
eyes ; take example by that holy Bishop of Rochester
and the blessed Thomas More, who renounced the
goods of this world, and chose rather to die than to
lose their immortal souls.' Latimer retorted, ' O God,
how great are the snares of the Bishop of Rome, who
has kept men in darkness for so many years ! And look
thou, Dr. Forest, that thou mayst see the snares and the
falsity of his saints, they shall bring hither one of the
idols of the Bishop of Rome.' At that moment a great
uproar arose, and they brought forward a great wooden
saint, which eight men could hardly carry, so big indeed
that it looked like a giant, and they hoisted it up on
the platform where Dr. Forest was, and three men had
as much as they could do to keep it upright They had
brought this saint from Wales, where it was kept in a
church ; and it is said that all those who stole or robbed
anything were absolved by the priests, if they offered to
the idol a part of their booty. The saint was called
F 2

68

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

in English Darbel Gadarn = Gathering, which means
the Collector .« Upon the gallows he died on, was set up
in great letters : —
David Darvell Gatheren,
As saith the Welshman,
Fetched outlawes out of Hell,
Now is he come with speare and shield.
In harness to burn in Smithfield,
For in Wales he may not dwell.
And Forest the Friar,
That obstinate liar,
That wilfully will be dead.
In his contumacie,
The Gospel doth deny
The King to be Supreme Head.
" Then said Latimer, ' Look, Dr. Forest, this is one
of the idols of the Bishop of Rome, and for my own
part I think the priests ought to have given the Bishop
of Rome half of his profits.' When the good Doctor

' " A great idol, brought out of Wales, which they did prophecy
should set a forest on fyre." Wright (Suppression of the Monasteries,"
p. 208), suggests that it may have been a genuine relic of paganism.
Hu Gadern, the Mighty Guardian, the Haesus of Lucan, the Celtic
Mars ; but this is clearly preposterous.
The " London Chronicle " of the reigns of Henry VII. and Henry
VIII., from the original MS. in the Cottonian Library, British
Museum, edited by Clarence Hopper, C.S., has the following entry.
" The xxij daye of Maye, Wensday, was there set up in Smythfield
iij skaffoldes ; the one was for my lord mayir and aldyrmen, and the
Deuke of Norfolk, the Deuke of Suffocke, and my lord prevesele ; and
the tother for the byshop of Worcetter, wheer on he stoode and preche ;
and the third skafifolde was made over agaynst y" byshop where on
stode Doctor Forrest a grave freer of Grenewiche which had byn
many yeres afore a grete precher at PoUes Crosse, and beside hym
was there a pictor set up that w as brought out of Walls, that was
called Dervelle jadern, and a litill beside that a payr of galous set up,
and when the Bisshop had made an end of his sermon, then was the
freer had to the galous and hanggid alive by the myddylle and the
armys w' chayns and there burned and the pictor cast in to the fyir
to." The editor goes on to say that Darvel Gadern was the son of
Hywell ap Emyr Llydaw, and was founder of Llanderfel church in
Merioneth, early in the 6th century, and that his feast was kept on
the 5th April. Michael Wood thus alludes to him in 1554, "If the
Welchman would have a purse, he prayed to Darvel Gathorn."

BLESSED JOHN FOREST. 69
heard this, he laughed and said, ' I am not surprised that
what thou sayest should have happened, for the priests are
so greedy, that they well might invent that, and much
more ; but do not think that the Pope sanctions any such
thing.' In these arguments much time was passed, till
at last Cromwell said, ' My lord Bishop, I think you
strive in vain with this stubborn one. It would be better
to burn him.' Then said Dr. Forest, ' Gentlemen, if I
were willing to sacrifice my soul, it would not have been
necessary to come to this place.' ' Take him off at once,'
said Cromwell ; and as the three men on the platform
were still supporting the wooden saint, Dr. Forest
turned to them and said, ' Brethren, I pray ye, do not
drop it on me, for my hour is not yet come.' Then
Bishop Latimer addressed Forest again, and said,
' Brother Forest, I beseech thee to turn. The King
will give thee a good living, for I know full well that if
thou wishest, thou art well able to give doctrine to great
numbers.' But Forest replied, ' All the treasures of the
world, Latimer, will not move me from my will ; but I
much desire to speak with one of the gentlemen here ! '
Then the good Duke of Norfolk arose to go and speak
with him, but Cromwell called out, ' My lord Duke, take
your seat again ; if he wants to say anything, let him say
it out that we can all hear.' So the Duke went back to
his seat again. A mystery indeed of God is this, that
a common man should hold so much authority that one
of the noblest dukes of the land should obey him. When
Dr. Forest saw that they would not let him speak to
anyone, he made the sign of the Cross, and said, ' Gentle
men, with this body of mine deal as you wish ! ' So
they brought him down, and took him to the gibbet, which
was just near, and they tied him with a chain round his
waist, and hung him up suspended by the middle. He
begged them to let his hands be free, which they did.
Then they began to set fire underneath him, and as it

70 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
reached his feet, he drew them up a little, but directly
afterwards let them down again, and he began to burn.
The holy man beat his breast with his right hand, and
then raised both his hands to heaven, and said many
prayers in Latin, his last spoken words being, ' Domine,
miserere mei,' and when the fire reached his breast, he
spoke no more, and gave up his soul to God. As soon
as the fire was lighted, they cast the wooden saint into
it, and it was burnt A miracle happened, for the fire
had hardly destroyed the body, when at midday was seen
a dove, as white as snow, over the head of the sainted
dead, and remained there for a long time, seen by many
people. After dinner, the body was taken down, and
buried in a hospital, and so ended this good Doctor." '
' Chronicle of Henry VIII. " How a Doctor was burnt."

CHAPTER IV.
PROGRESS OF THE PERSECUTION.
Ven. FF. Brookby, Belchiam, Cort and Waire, 1537 — 1 539.
The case against the monasteries has been stated, and
restated, exaggerated and misrepresented, until the
English people may very justly be pardoned for the view
they take of monastic life, as it is supposed to have been
constituted in the 15th and i6th centuries. The evils
which had crept in, the unsatisfactory condition of some
few houses, have been painted in the very blackest tones,
while the bright and edifying side of the picture has been
almost entirely ignored.
Drs. Browne and Hilsey, Lee and Bedyll, and afterwards
Legh and Layton, received commissions to visit the
houses of all religious Orders throughout the country,
beginning with the friaries. They were to make inquiry
concerning the lives and morals of the inmates, and were
to ascertain the state of their fealty towards the King.
They were to instruct them how to conduct themselves
with safety, and were to reduce them to uniformity, calling
in, if necessary, the aid of the secular arm.'
At the first blush, these articles do not convey any
notion of the tyranny that was to be exercised, but they
were the beginning of the suppression of the monasteries.
1 Grants in April, 25 Henry VIIL, R.O.

72 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
The truth is, that the wells were poisoned from the
outset. The royal commissioners had too great an
interest in bringing about the ruin of the rich abbeys to
make their pictures very life-like, for the King was poor,
and bent on plunder, and their business was to give him a
plausible reason for satisfying his greed of money. That
they grossly misrepresented matters with regard to many
of the greater monasteries, is proved by subsequent com
missions, sent out on the 26th April, 1536, to some of the
country gentlemen of each county, to make a new survey
of religious houses. They had been already valued by
the royal commissioners, the year before, for the King's
tenths and first-fruits, and a detailed account had been
sent in, as to the condition of buildings, together with an
estimate of the sums that might be realized from the bells,
lead and other fixtures, the moveable goods, etc., and the
number of woods, parks and forests belonging to each
house. The " lives and conversation " of the monks in
nearly every case had been sweepingly condemned. But
the returns of the new commissioners have been also to a
certain extent preserved, and it is remarkable that in each
instance, the verdict of the King's commissioners is re
versed. The return for Leicestershire is particularly
striking. That county contained the two monasteries of
Garendon and Gracedieu, against which some of the worst
" compertes " had been found ; but the country gentlemen
reported the inmates of both houses to be of " good and
virtuous conversation." = Whether neighbours and men of
position in the county were more likely to be fair and
competent judges, than men who paid a hasty visit with
the distinct object of pleasing the King and Cromwell,
both anxious for a pretext for confiscation, is a matter for
the honest student of history to determine.
The poor suffered perhaps most of all, in the utter
" Gairdner, Preface to Calendar x. pt. i.

PROGRESS OF THE PERSECUTION. 73
desolation which followed on the suppression of the
monasteries. Vast tracts of country were impoverished ;
the destitute and homeless thronged the high roads. Far
from encouraging idleness and beggary, the monks had
been the best of landlords, and the kindest. Always in
residence, they had encouraged industry by taking their
rent and tithes in kind ; while their successors racked the
rents, and doubled the income of estates to which they
had no right^
Henry was in no hurry to part with the spoils, but he
found it absolutely necessary to keep his greedy courtiers
satisfied. He had neither the sobriety which belongs of
right to parsimony, nor the lavishness which is supposed
to accompany a love of pleasure. It soon became usual
for him to pay his gaming debts with abbey lands, and to
reward his cooks in like manner, for pleasing him with a
new dish. It was an easy way of wiping out old scores,
and of cultivating a certain kind of popularity. These
lands seldom remained long in the possession of their new
owners ; the families founded on the ruins of the monas
teries became extinct in one or two generations ; but the
newly pauperized lived on, and grew and multiplied. It
was soon found necessary to legislate for them, and the
poor gradually came to be considered, no longer a bless
ing, but an intolerable burden. According to Stow,* at
the time of the dissolution of the lesser monasteries, " it
was pitiful to hear the lamentation the people made in the
country, there was so great hospitality kept among them,
and it was thought more than ten thousand persons,
masters and servants, had lost their living by the pulling
down of these houses at that time."
The French ambassador told Francis, that rehgion was
in everything as before, except that it was forbidden to
^ Dixon, " Hist, of the Ch. of England," vol. ii, p. 205.
* "Annals," p. 571.

74 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
acknowledge the Apostolic See, and that all the abbeys
and religious houses had been suppressed, that there no
longer existed a single monk who had not changed his
habit for the dress of a secular priest. Henry, in his
quality of English Pope, had sent to the Tower certain
heretics, who had eaten meat in Lent, and had preached
against abstinence. The celebrated Dr. Barnes, who had
delivered a sermon without licence, at St Paul's, against
the Bishop of Winchester, for preaching Catholic doctrine
from the same pulpit the day before, was sent to beg
pardon of the Bishop, and was ordered to preach another
sermon, contradicting all he had said in the first.^ Every
where confusion and discontent reigned. Discipline was
broken up, but a reign of terror had begun, while the
country was suffering from the apprehension of famine.
Many were convinced that the King's iniquitous conduct
was the cause of bad weather and bad harvests.®
On the 8th July, 1536, Chapuys wrote to the Emperor's
secretary, that it was lamentable to see a legion of monks
and nuns, who had been chased from their monasteries,
wandering miserably hither and thither, seeking means to
preserve their lives. He declared that several honest men
had told him that what with monks, nuns, and persons
dependent on the monasteries suppressed, there were
twenty thousand who knew not how to live.
We have already seen that the Observants were the first
to suffer from Henry's licentiousness. His letter to the
Duke of Norfolk, dated the 17th March, 1537, shows that
in venting his anger on other religious Orders, and in
pursuing with his vengeance those who had dared to
oppose his innovations from the beginning, he kept a
watchful eye upon those who were still in the enjoyment
of their liberty. The letter runs thus ;—
' " Correspondance Politique de MM. de Castillon et de MarsiUac,
Ambassadeurs de France en Angleterre." d. I??
= Gairdner, 1538. ' v i>

PROGRESS OF THE PERSECUTION. 75
" As to the friar that prayed for the Pope, it is thought
here to be treason, but we refer his trial to your wisdom,
that none may take example by his presumption. You
are also to proceed against the Abbot of Gervaise, and
the quondam of Fountains, for whose apprehension we
heartily thank you ; also against the Abbot of Salley, if
you can find matter worthy of it, as we doubt not you
shall. You may remember the letter sent by him to Sir
Thomas Percy. We refer the arraignment and execution
of the persons bailed by Sir Ralph EUerker, and others,
to your discretion. The rest we are content to take to
mercy. From my lord of Durham's declaration and
other evidences, we see that the Friars Observants are
disciples of the Bishop of Rome, and sowers of sedition.
You shall therefore do your best to apprehend the friars
of that faction, and place them in other houses of friars as
prisoners, without liberty to speak to any man, till we
shall determine our further pleasure about them." '
This was the second winnowing. Already in 1534, we
have seen how the Observants had been driven from their
houses, imprisoned in other convents, or banished the
realm, at the instigation of Wriothesley, their secret friend.
Some few had returned, and were giving the King
trouble, by their freedom of speech in the metropolis.
They fr equently preached in the church of St. Lawrence,
and although they knew that every word they uttered
w ould be reported to Henry, so little did they value their
lives, in comparison with the salvation of their hearers,
that they took every opportunity of expounding the
Catholic doctrine of Papal Supremacy. Father Forest
was the first of all the Observants to encounter the King's
ire,* but these others were to pass him on the road to
martyrdom, while he languished in prison, waiting long-
' Gairdner, Cal. xii. 666.
" " Certamen Seraphicum,'' p. 7.

76 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
ingly for his " greater combat." It is probable that the
arrest of the Friars Brookby, Belchiam and Cort, followed
immediately on Henry's letter to the Duke of Norfolk.
The first of these to suffer was Father Anthony Brookby.'
He was a Latin, Greek and Hebrew scholar, Professor of
Divinity at Magdalen College, Oxford, and was celebrated
for his eloquence as a preacher. He was no less remark
able for the austerity and sanctity of his life. The King's
advocate was present at a sermon preached in the church of
St. Lawrence, in which Father Brookby spoke of Henry's
new marriage, as the cause of the dreadful evils which
threatened to overwhelm the country, denouncing also the
rupture with Rome and the pillage of the religious houses.
The spy here interrupted the preacher, and tried to
frighten him into silence. But the friar, nothing daunted,
continued his sermon, prepared to suffer all kinds of
torment for the sake of justice. The matter was reported
to Henry, and it may easily be supposed lost nothing in
the telling. The infuriated King ordered the friar to be
taken prisoner, and accordingly Henry's zealous agent,
accompanied by several officers, proceeded to the church
of St Lawrence, where Father Brookby was again preach
ing, and as he descended from the pulpit, tapped him on
the shoulder, and told him he was arrested in the King's
name. Without a word of reply, the friar bowed his head
submissively, and allowed the officers to bind him tightly,
with his hands behind his back, and to lead him through
the city to Newgate, a prison, says the chronicler, in
which "thieves, murderers, assassins, and the worst
criminals were confined." And he goes on to say that
the holy man was " thrown into the most foetid and stink
ing place in the whole prison, in which, within the memory
of man, no one had been condemned to lie, so that even
the prisoners themselves were astonished at so much
" Also called Brockly, Brorbe, and Broche.

PROGRESS OF THE PERSECUTION. 77
cruelty. But the good friar remembered the words of St.
Peter : ' Christ suffered for us, in order to give us an
example, that we might follow in His footsteps.' " ^
Here he was racked with ropes, screws, and pulleys, till
all his joints were wrenched asunder, the object of this
inhuman treatment being to obtain from him an accept
ance of the new statute of Royal Supremacy ; ^ but the
executioners were weary of their ghastly labours without
obtaining the least sign that could be interpreted as
an assent. Such were the martyr's courage and constancy,
that in the midst of his torments he expressed an ardent
desire to suffer yet more cruelly for the love of God.'
His body was reduced to a mangled condition ; he was
unable to move hand or foot, and would have died of
starvation, through inability to carry food to his mouth,
but for the charitable offices of a devout woman, who fed
him through the prison bars, for twenty-five days. The
oppressive heat of the July weather is said to have added
greatly to his torments. At length his lingering martyr
dom was completed, and on the 19th July, 1537, he was
strangled with the cord he wore round his waist, by order
of the King. The turnkey who had charge of him,
entering into his dungeon, saw him lying as if asleep, with
his face to the ground. The man gave him a kick, telling
him to get up, but on approaching nearer to him, he saw
that he was dead. The news soon spread like wild-fire
through the city, and God was pleased to work a miracle,
as a sign of Father Brookby's holiness, the filthy dungeon
in which he lay being flooded with an unearthly light.*
Crowds assembled to witness the spectacle, and many
were converted by the martyr's death, who had remained
untouched by the eloquence of his living words.
^ Barezzo Barezzi, " Delle Croniche dell' Ordine de' Frati Minori."
Venice 1608, vol. iv. p. 210.
^ Dodd, "Church History of England."
" Coll. Anglo. Min. pt. i. p. 239. * Barezzo Barezzi, p. 210.

78 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH
The next "sower of sedition" to encounter the King's
vengeance was Father Thomas Cort. This venerable
Observant belonged to a good old family. From the
beginning of the conflict he had been zealous in upholding
the lawfulness of Henry's marriage to Catherine, in boldly
denouncing his conduct in the matter of the divorce, and
his severance of the kingdom from Papal obedience.
Henry, to justify his measures, changed his tactics, pre
tended to appeal to a General Council, not likely to be
soon assembled, and tried to make it appear that he no
longer stood under the ban of the Church.^ The English
bishops were examined as to whether " he that was called
Pope of Rome was above the General Council, or the
Council above him, or whether he has by the law of God
any more authority within the realm than any other
foreign bishop." ®
The alleged uncertainty of the royal mind did not,
however, allow of any argument by which the question
could be settled in favour of the Pope's authority. To
say that theologically and historically the Pope had
jurisdiction in this realm, was to " sow sedition," and for
boldly asserting it. Friar Cort was seized and thrown into
a filthy dungeon in Newgate. The grim walls had in
former days seen many a State prisoner, many a celebrated
ruffian, but a Franciscan friar in his poor habit was as
yet a novel spectacle. It was the custom for the jailor to
take a cloak or any article of value the prisoner happened
to possess, as a tax, in return for which he provided him
with some degree of alleviation from the horrors of his
cell. The friars, having nothing of the least value where
with to propitiate the jailor, were left to rot. The cells
were rendered foul, by the accumulation of the filth of
years ; a loathsome miasma exuded from the damp walls
and the unpaved floor, and from the moment that Friar
' Gairdner, Cal. vi. Preface.
« Memoranda for the King's Council. Cleop. E. vi. f. 312, B.M.

PROGRESS OF THE PERSECUTION. 79
Cort entered his dungeon, the pestilential atmosphere
began to tell upon him. In a few days, he sickened and
died, of the stench and of " excessive hunger." At the
moment of his death, a heavenly and miraculous light
filled his cell, and those who witnessed it were struck with
amazement and fear. When the circumstance was re
ported to the King, he appears to have had one of those
momentary fits of remorse and terror, such as he ex
perienced when the plague was rife, and he was cowed
into sending away Anne Boleyn and going to confession.
"This day," wrote one of his attendants to Wolsey on
that occasion, " His Highness, like a gracious prince, hath
received his Maker at the Friars' (Greenwich), which was
ministered to His Highness by my Lord of Lincoln."'
Afterwards, his conscience became more callous, and
" while leading a vile life, interrupted none of his usual
Communions at Christmas, Easter, and Whitsuntide."*
To these hypocritical Communions may perhaps be attri
buted Henry's blindness of heart and persistent self-
deception. His emotion on the death of the holy friar was
as ephemeral as it had been on other occasions. When
he had ordered him to be decently buried, in the church
yard of St. Sepulchre, he incontinently returned to his
vomit. An inscription was piously placed on Father
Cort's tomb by Mary Herbert, wife of a glove-maker
of Ghent."

' Privy Purse Expenses. ,
' Rev. T. E. Bridgett, " Life of Blessed John Fisher."
" I hear," wrote the French ambassador, "he has made his will
and taken the Sacrament for fear of sudden death."
' The epitaph, which might still be read in 1607, ran as follows : —
" Hac tu qui transis Christo devote viator
In precibus, quasso, sis memor ipse mei."
One of the chief authorities for the main outlines of the sufferings
of the Friars Brookby, Cort and Belchiam, is F. Thomas Bourchier,
an English Franciscan author, who died at Rome in 1586. The title
of his book is " Historia Ecclesiastica de Martyrio Fratrum Ordinis
Divi !Francisci dictorum de Observantia, qui ab anno 1536 usque ad
hunc praesentem 1582 passi sunt."

8o FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
The third Franciscan to lay down his life for the
Faith, in the memorable year 1537, was Father Thomas
Belchiam. He had boldly proclaimed the King to be a
heretic, and in support of the assertion, he wrote a book,
addressed to his brethren, and beginning with the text :
" They that wear soft clothing are in Kings' houses." He
showed how Henry had fallen away from the true Faith
in separating himself from the Vicar of Christ, the centre
of Unity, how the courts of great princes were too often
filthy sinks of vice, so that " he that will be godly must
depart the Court ; '' how there were no examples there of
religious deportment, but a field of licentiousness, where
vices of all sorts and sizes not only budded forth plenti
fully, but grew up daily. He showed how avarice, incon
tinence, and cowardice disgraced the lives of the English
clergy, and notably those of the bishops, who for temporal
advantages, and the goods of this perishing life, chose
rather to incur the just anger of God, than to lay open the
plain truth to the King, as they ought in duty to do, even
with the hazard of their lives.'
The tone of the book is that of the faithful sons of St.
Francis in all ages, but it carries us back irresistibly to the
stern figure of the Baptist, standing up boldly before the
King, with his one word, " It is not lawful," his poor gar
ment of camel's hair, his unkempt locks and penance-worn
features in strange contrast to the glitter and luxury of
a court steeped in vice.
One copy of the book was leTt by the author to the
Observants of Greenwich. It passed through the hands
of the eminent Franciscan, Father Thomas Bourchier, who
intended to publish it, and Father Angelus Mason says it
was always in the minds of the friars to print the work ;
but here we lose sight of it entirely, and it doubtless
perished, under the destroying sway of the reformers.
' Coll. Anglo. Min. pt. i. p. 240.

PROGRESS OF THE PERSECUTION. 8i
Another copy, found in the martyr's cell after his death,
was carried to Henry, who is said to have been moved to
tears in reading it. Repenting, however, immediately of
his weakness, he ordered it to be committed to the flames.
Meanwhile, the workers of the royal will had left no
means untried to subdue such a formidable opponent as
the fearless and ardent young friar. Every kind of torture
was inflicted ; the last of all, that of hunger, killed him.
They had reduced him to a skeleton, but they could not
deprive him of his valiant heart, his constancy in prayer,
his love of God and of his neighbour. " In Thee, O Lord,
have I trusted, let me never be confounded," he cried
out triumphantly, a moment before his death. An earth
quake shook the prison as he breathed forth his soul,
and the terror of the jailors once more communicated
itself to the King's guilty conscience, securing him a
decent burial.
Up and down ran the Court fool, crying out, "The
plain dealing of one beggar baffles the King's anger."
One other name, coupled with that of a secular priest,
has come down to us, and closes the record of their
sufferings under Henry VIII. N. Waire, Observant; and
Griffith Clark, were martyred at St. Thomas Water
ings on July 8th, 1539. Stow admits that he did not see
their indictment, but Dodd says that Catholic writers,
who are particularly inquisitive concerning such matters,
all agree that they suffered for denying the King's
Supremacy.^ Any account of this cruel persecution of the Observants
for teaching and preaching doctrine that had always
been taught and preached since England was a Christian
country, would be incomplete without a short mention of
one who was closely allied to them throughout the whole
struggle. Thomas Abell, sometime chaplain to Queen
' Dodd, vol. i. p. 214.

82 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

Catherine, was a man of great learning and virtue. He
was sent to the Tower together with Bishop Fisher, for
defending her cause before the Legatine Commission, and
to him Father Forest addressed one of the six letters
which we gave in the preceding chapter. Among the
touching inscriptions on the walls of the Beauchamp
Tower, in carving which a long succession of state
prisoners whiled away many a tedious hour, is a device in
the form of a bell. Upon it is inscribed the letter A, and
above it the name Thomas. This inscription chronicles
the sojourn of Thomas Abell in the Beauchamp Tower,
and from its dreary precincts he wrote the following letter
to Cromwell in the year 1537 : —
" My Lord, — I beseech our Saviour, Jesus Christ, to give
your lordship after this life, life everlasting in Heaven,
Amen. I beseech you move the King's Grace to give me
licence to go to church and say Mass here within the
Tower, and for to lie in some house upon the Green. I
have now been in close prison three years and a quarter
come Easter, and your lordship knows that never man in
this realm was so unjustly condemned as I am, for I was
never, since I came hither, asked nor examined of any
offence that should be laid unto my charge ; also Master
Barker, my fellow, was commanded hither with me, and
both of us for one thing and deed, and he was examined
and delivered, and I was never spoken to and yet con
demned, and lie here still in close prison. What was put
in my condemnation is untrue, as I have written to your
lordship largely once before this. I judge and suppose in
your lordship such pity and compassion, that you would of
your own accord have besought the King to give me the
liberty I desire, even had I been guilty, after so long im
prisonment. I doubt not but that you will do so now,
knowing, as you do, that I am innocent, and have so great
wrong. Therefore, I do not rehearse the diseases I have,
nor my increasing misery, need, and poverty. I commit

PROGRESS OF THE PERSECUTION. 83
to you this little petition of going to church and lying out
of close prison." '
It does not appear that his petition was granted,
although his execution did not take place till the 30th
July, 1540, about six years and a half after his arrest.
Cromwell has been described as a man without passions,
whom no touch of love or hate swayed from his course.
It is equally true of him that he was inaccessible to pity.
His whole^career is one of selfish, ruthless, all-absorbing
ambition. He was the son of a poor farrier, and the
nephew of the Archbishop of Canterbury's cook. Having
committed some crime in his youth he was still inex
perienced enough to be found out, and after suffering a
term of imprisonment, was forced to leave the country.
He went to Flanders, Rome, and Florence, where he made
profound studies in Machiavellian politics. On his return
to England he married the daughter of a shearman and
served in his house. He then became a solicitor. The
Cardinal of York being struck with his ability, the vigi
lance and promptitude which he evinced in good and evil,
took him into his service, and employed him principally
in demolishing five or six good monasteries. This was
the beginning of his fortunes, and at the Cardinal's fall,
no one behaved better to him than Cromwell. After
Wolsey's death. Wallop attacked him with insults and
threats, and in order to protect himself, he procured an
audience with the King, and offered to make him the
richest king that ever was in England. Henry imme
diately made him one of his Council, but told no one of it
for four months. After that time he stood above every
' Gairdner, Cal. xii, 542. Thomas Abell was beatified at the
same time as Sir Thomas More, and fifty other martyrs.
Dr. Ortiz, writing to the Empress in 1536, says : " Master Abel, one
of the Queen's Chaplains, who has been imprisoned for preaching that
the King ought to punish his Council, for giving him bad advice, has
no prospect of being liberated during this schism in England."
Gairdner, Cal. xi. 320.
G 2

84 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
one, with the exception of Ann Boleyn. By one of those
timely hits, sometimes called strokes of genius, which are
the making of unscrupulous and ambitious men, he advised
Henry to cut the Gordian knot of his self-made difficulties
by declaring his own supremacy. It was the expression
of the King's own secret thought and desire.* As long as
it suited his purpose Cromwell supported Anne; when she
was disgraced he abandoned her to her enemies. He
flooded the country with spies ; in his determination to get
the spoils of the monasteries for the master who owed him
everything, the most innocent words were tortured into
treason. That a man is responsible for his actions, and seals his
own doom, according to the passions dominant in his soul,
is one of the most useful lessons taught us by the reign of
Henry VIII. It is true that those who look for the ulti
mate triumph of goodness in this world, as the test of
success, will be disappointed, for to all but the eye of
faith, it is a period of hopeless confusion. Cromwell,
indeed, fell a victim to the very methods he had devised
for the destruction of others ; and the King, a prey to the
most loathsome diseases, died a tyrant's death, hated
more than he was feared, by a people whom he had
utteriy demoralized. Still the innocent had suffered far
more than the guilty. Henry's lust and pride had en
gendered greed, cunning, perjury, and all foulness in the
servile administrators of his pleasures, and even to this
day, there has been no term to the evil then set afloat in
the worid. Lest we should be accused of prejudice in the
opinion we have formed of Henry's character, it will be
well to give here a short summary of the words of an im
partial eye-witness of passing events.
M. de Marillac, ambassador of France to England, was
the representative of one who professed himself to be
* Chapuys to Granville. Vienna Archives.

PROGRESS OF THE PERSECUTION. 85

Henry's chief ally and personal friend. Writing to Anne
de Montmorency, Constable of France, he says : " This
prince appears among other vices to be addicted to three,
which may be considered plagues in a king. He is so
miserly and covetous, that all the riches in the world would
not suffice to content him. Hence the destruction of
abbeys, the despoiling of churches which contain any
thing worth taking, the suppression of the Knights of St
John of Rhodes, from whom he took not only their ancient
revenues for his own enjoyment, but also the property
which they had acquired, they being unable to make wills.
Hence also the complaints of so many wealthy people
who, guilty or innocent, are plundered of their goods.
Neither dees he respect the property of the dead, to the
great scandal of religious people, who look upon them as
saints. Thus St. Thomas of Canterbury has been de
clared a traitor, because his relics are adorned with gold
and precious stones.^ In order to enrich himself, he has
impoverished his people, but it does not occur to him that
he will never gain in wealth, what he thereby loses in re
putation. As he could not arrive at what he coveted,
even after his withdrawal from obedience to the Holy See,
he found himself obliged to have preachers and ministers
to persuade the people that it was far better to employ
ecclesiastical revenues in supporting hospitals, colleges,
and other foundations tending to the public good, than in
fattening idle and useless monks. The King having thus
appropriated that which, for ages, the devotion of the
people had consecrated to God, condemns and burns as
' A proclamation was made on the 22nd November, 1538, "That
Thomas Beckett, sometime Bishop of Canterbury, and made a saint
by the Bishop of Rome's authority, should from henceforth not be
esteemed, named, reputed, nor called a saint, and that his images and
pictures through the whole realm should be put down and avoided
out of all churches, etc., and that the days used to be festivals in his
name should not be observed, nor the service, office, antiphons,
collects and prayers in his name read, but rased and put out of all
books, because it is found that he died like a traitor to his prince."

86 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

heretics the same preachers who exhort him to pay the
debt which he has contracted, and to put to a better use
that which is not his." They declare this at the moment
of execution, and the whole nation is scandalized. And
although people deserve to reap what they have sown,
those who ordered them to sow are not free from guilt
There are a thousand reasons for pillaging, but not one
for restoring ; and hence proceeds the second evil, which is
a feeling of dread and insecurity on the part of the King.
Knowing how many things he has invented, what tragedies
and scandals he has caused, he does not trust anyone,
thinking that he has offended all. Thus he will not cease
dipping his hands in blood as long as he feels any doubt
or suspicion of his people, and he doubts and suspects
more every day. Hence also every day new edicts are
published, so sanguinary that people have the greatest
difficulty in defending themselves, armed at all points ;
and the slightest inadvertence is enough to cause any
man's ruin. He forms alliances, as with us, which last as
long as it pleases his caprice to maintain them ; and from
these two evils the last plague in a great measure proceeds.
This consists in a levity and inconstancy which commu
nicate themselves to the nation at large, the rights of
religion, of marriage, of good faith being perverted as
though they were of wax, which when it is melted will
take any form you please. As the manner of life of the
prince is the standard to which all his subjects aspire, so the
ministers outvie each other in imitating their master, and
under colour of serving him, each one is for himself."'
If the people suffered in their temporalities by the sup-
'¦ " A stranger standing by did wonder, as well he might, of what
religion the King was, his sword cutting on both sides, Protestants
being burnt for heretics, and Papists hanged for traitors." Fuller,
P- 235-
' " Correspondance Politique de MM. de Castillon et de Marillac,
Ambassadeurs de France en Angleterre, 1537— 1542, p. 211." This
1 etter was entirely written in cypher. .

PROGRESS OF THE PERSECUTION. 87
pression of the rich abbeys, and in their consciences by
the bad example set them by the King and his licentious
Court, their spiritual loss in the extinction of the friaries
was incalculable. The Franciscan friar could do little to
alleviate the temporal necessities by which he was sur
rounded. He lived so poorly himself that, at the utmost,
but a crust of coarse bread and a bowl of soup were to be
had for the asking at the convent gates. " That poverty,
rigid poverty, to the last continued to be the rule rather
than the exception with the Minorite Friars," says Brewel
in his Monumenta Franciscana, " is clear from the inven
tories of their houses, taken at the dissolution by the Royal
Commissioners." Apart from the pressure of actual poverty,
the Observants were bound to keep their rule in its primi
tive austerity. They were to possess neither money nor
lands, were to deny themselves the convenience of books
and parchment, and content themselves with the barest
necessaries. They were, in short, to be poor, not because
of untoward circumstances, but because poverty was dear
to St. Francis, dear to the heart of our Lord. It was
therefore a purely spiritual bread with which they were to
feed the people, and it was owing mainly to the labours of
the friars among the poor, that the Catholic religion lived
on so long in England, in spite of pains and penalties.
In homely but potent imagery, they had set forth the
fundamental truths of religion in language the people
could understand. Long before the days of printing, the
rural populations throughout the country knew and under
stood the Bible far better than they have ever known and
understood it since, for by means of Mysteries and prac
tical illustrations, the friars taught them, in a vivid and
touching manner, the principal events in the life of our
Lord. These Mysteries were to the uneducated what
pictures and stories are to children, a most efficacious
means of instruction ; audit is not too much to say, that
in more than a pecuniary sense, the poor had less chance

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

of education after the Reformation than they had before it
The sweeping away of the monastic schools had a great
deal to do with it, but the teaching of the friars entered
largely into the calculation. Thus, greatly as the monks
were regretted, the friars were felt to be a still more seri
ous loss, in the actual state of religion. In the campaign
that was being waged against heresy, the labours of the
monk had been necessarily confined to his own immediate
surroundings ; but the friar could descend into the battle
field, where all sorts and conditions of men came under
the influence of his charity and zeal. The people mourned
for the suppression of the monastic orders, but they struck
a determined blow for the return of the friars. After the
northern rising, when the insurgents, at the second meet
ing at Doncaster, drew up articles for presentation to the
Council, the sixth article was a demand " To have the
friars Observants restored to their houses." '
We all know what followed on the Pilgrimage of Grace
— fresh bloodshed, more reckless cruelty ; the country was
defaced by gibbets ; those who remained faithful were
paralyzed with fear. The struggle was over, the friars, to
gether with all that made for goodness, had been swept away,
and the King remained alone in his triumphant solitude.
A well-known writer has drawn a life-like portrait of
Henry VIII. at the end of his career. He calls him "a
strong, high-spirited, ruthless, disappointed, solitary
creature ; a thing to hate or to pity or to smile at, or to
shudder at or to wonder at, but not to judge." *"
Then the end came, and the ghastly scenes which
Friar Peyto had prophesied ; and the first heretical King
of England was laid to rest with his predecessors.
* Gairdner, Cal. xi. 1246.
' " Lectures on the Study of Mediaeval and Modern History." by
Dr. Stubbs, p. 33. '

CHAPTER V.
war and PEACE.
1547—1559.
One special characteristic of the Reformation period was
the decay of learning. Divinity had ceased to be taught
at the Universities, for there were scarcely any students.
With mock solemnity, Layton and his fellow-visitor had
written to Cromwell from Oxford, that they had " bound
Duns Scotus in Bocardo and had rid the University of all
his obscure glosses." Under Edward VI., the works of
this celebrated Franciscan, together with other invaluable
books, were publicly burned to ashes in the market-place.
The "new learning," so much vaunted at the beginning of
the movement, had proved itself to be nothing but a veil
of intellectual d^-rkness, which had clouded the minds of
clerics and laymen alike. Whole libraries were wantonly
destroyed, for as they were to be found chiefly in religious
houses, they fell an easy prey to the marauders. In
nothing did the downward tendency of the age show
itself more unmistakably, than in the contempt which was
shown for the lore and erudition of centuries. Precious
manuscripts were wrenched from their richly adorned
bindings, and sold as waste paper. Even the renegade
Carmelite Bale, vile enough to lead the van of the most
dissolute, bemoaned the barbarity of the times. " I know
a merchant- man," he wrote, " (which at this time shall be
nameless) that bought the contents of two noble libraries
for forty shillings a piece. A shame it is to be spoken.
This stuff hath he occupied instead of grey paper, by the
space of more than these ten years, and yet he hath store

90 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
enough for as many years to come. A prodigious
example is this, and to be abhorred of all men which love
their nation as they should do. Yea, what may bring our
realm to more shame and rebuke than to have it noised
abroad that we are despisers of learning ? I judge this to
be true, and utter it with heaviness, that neither the
Britons under the Romans and Saxons, nor yet the English
people under the Danes and Normans, had ever such
damage of their learned monuments as we have seen in
our time. Our posterity may well curse this wicked fact
of our age, this unreasonable spoil of England's most
noble antiquities." While learning was at a discount, it was
hardly possible in Edward's reign to obtain justice in a
court of law, without a very high percentage of bribery.
" It were a goodly sign," said Latimer in one of his
sermons to Edward the Sixth, " the sign of the judge's skin.
It should be Lot's wife to all judges that should follow
after." (Sermons, p. i8i, Camb. 1844.)
We look in vain for one instance of high principle
among those who gathered round' the throne at this crisis,
for one disinterested or truly patriotic hand to guide the
ship of the State amidst the troubled waters. Somerset
himself was no exception amid the throng of greedy place-
seekers. Ambition had made him remorseless ; while
the poor were crying for bread, his leisure hours were
devoted to plans for the destruction of what remained of
convents and churches, to make a fitting site for Somerset
House. He did not even succeed in gaining the affec
tion of the boy king, who on the day of his uncle's execu
tion wrote the following cold-blooded entry in his diary: 
" January 22nd. The Duke of Somerset had his head cut
off on Tower Hill, between eight and nine o'clock in the
morning ; " supplying immediately underneath an omission
under date of the i6th — " Sir William Pickering delivered
a token to the Lady Elizabeth — a fair diamond."
During Henry's life the English Church, although shorn

WAR AND PEACE. 91

of its allegiance to the Pope, remained otherwise un
changed. The suppression of the monasteries did not
interfere with the worship of God as it was conducted in
cathedrals and parish churches ; ' but with the advent of
Edward VI., the tide had turned. All the members of the
Council favoured the new doctrines ; and Cranmer, timid
though he was, found it safer to make rapid strides in the
direction towards which he had long secretly leaned, than
to hold back, as prudence had inspired him in the pre
ceding reign. Even Luther admitted, that in taking away
the headship from the Church, a torrent of contradictory
doctrine had been let in, which had swamped its Christian
character of peace and unity. Henry's incongruous edicts,
such as prohibiting the unrestrained reading of the Scrip
tures in English, and the prosecutions against Catholics
and heretics alike, stultified each other by turns. It was
not only a period of Sturm and Drang, but of suspense
and waiting, until the Government had come to an agree
ment as to what were to be the settled articles of faith.
The doctrine of the Real Presence, for instance, had been
as dear to Henry as it was to Father Forest and his
brethren ; but in Edward's reign, the very men who had
been foremost in prosecuting those suspected of heresy
concerning it were loudest in proclaiming the Real
Absence. The truth is that the key-stone of the arch had
been taken away when Henry broke with the Head of the
Church, and Sacraments followed in more or less rapid
succession, till by a gradual and natural sequence nothing
was left but a heap of ruins. The position of Catholics
was, however, clearly defined. Gardiner, Bishop of Win
chester, who had weakly pandered to Henry in the
matter of the divorce, was ready to go to prison now that
the very existence of the Church in England was im
perilled. Together with Bishops Heath, Bonner, Tunstall,
' See "Edward VI. and the Book of Common Prayer," by the
Rev. F. Gasquet and E. Bishop.

92 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
and Day he was committed to the Tower, and steadfastly
forbore to purchase his freedom at the expense of his
conscience. On the fall of Somerset, he wrote to the
Duke of Northumberland, complaining that he had
been for a year and four months in close prison, with
want of air to relieve his body, want of books to relieve
his mind, want of good company, and finally want of a
just cause why he should have come thither at all. The
Lords received the letter in good part, laughed merrily
over it, and said he had a pleasant head, but took no steps
for his liberation ; and he continued in prison till Mary
released him, together with the other prisoners in the
Tower.^ The Catholics rejoiced in the fall of Somerset, but they
soon had reason to mourn, for the persecution continued
to be carried on as violently as before. It was only by
dint of superhuman courage and resolution that the
Princess Mary succeeded in retaining the privilege of
having Mass said in her private chapel. She lived in
great seclusion at her manors of Hunsdon and Beaulieu
(now called New Hall), in Essex.
At Hunsdon she was once visited by the Protestant
Bishop Ridley. Mary received him hospitably, and in
return he offered to preach before her on the following
Sunday. To this she replied that the doors of the parish
church adjoining should be open to him, and that he
might preach there if he chose, but that neither she nor
any of her servants would be there to listen to him.
" Madam," he exclaimed, " I hope you will not refuse to
hear God's word ! " to which she answered that she could
not tell what they called God's Word, it not having been
accounted such in the days of her fathers. She dismissed
him shortly after, saying : " My Lord, I thank you for
your kindness to visit me, but for your offer to preach to
me, I thank you not." '
The popular notion of Cranmer is, that he was a some-
2 Stow's " Annals," p. 600. ' "Historical Collections," p. 115.

WAR AND PEACE. 93

what weak and pious old man, cruelly put to death in
Mary's reign for his abhorrence of Popish doctrines. He
was the very antithesis of Father Forest, of the holy
Bishop of Rochester, and of Blessed Thomas More, who
may be styled martyrs of the Sacrament of Marriage.
All his life he had been a time server. He had annulled
the King's marriage when Henry had cast his eyes on
a younger and fairer woman, and he had annulled that
annulling when his tyrannical master had tired of his
new bauble. He excommunicated Anne Askew, and
had her burned at the stake for doctrines which he
subsequently found it convenient to adopt himself;
and when Edward required him to proceed against
Joan Bocher and others for propagating unitarian senti
ments, the licence he had taken to himself was no obstacle
to his circumscribing liberty of conscience in them.
Edward, who did not shrink from the idea of burning the
woman at the stake, was yet loath to allow her to depart
this life with the sin of heresy upon her soul. For a year
he hesitated, when, as Bocher remained obstinate, Cranmer
compelled him to sign her death warrant.*
But in spite of the prosecutions for one particular form
of heresy, the religious wars on the Continent flooded
England with sectarians of every colour. Tumults had
become the fashion ; scurrilous pamphlets were circulated
with impunity. At Edward's death, the pliant Arch
bishop, who had not hesitated to betray the interests of
the spiritual kingdom confided to his keeping, was no less
facile when it suited his ambition to renounce allegiance
to his temporal sovereign. After signalizing himself as
a partisan of the Lady Jane, he was not ashamed, when
her cause was lost, to turn to Mary. She forgave him,
and even then he would have continued to prosper, had
he not subsequently been convicted of " spreading abroad
seditious bills, and moving tumults to the disquietness of

Lingard, vol. vii. p. 73, 4th ed.

94 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
the present state." ^ He had been arraigned for high
treason, but he was convicted of heresy, degraded and sen
tenced to death. After recanting his seven recantations,
he at last summoned up enough courage to die. Religious
questions had been dragged into the arena of party politics
and revolutionary factions ; in nearly every case where
capital punishment was administered to heretics, they
were guilty before the law, as disturbers of the peace and
promoters of sedition.
A few days before Edward's death, a request had been
sent to Mary that she should repair to the Court ; but on
the road from Hunsdon to London she was warned that
the Council, seeing Edward's end approaching, were
anxious to secure her person. Almost immediately after
wards, the Earl of Arundel informed her that her brother
was dead. Owing to the courage and loyalty of the
Catholics in the eastern counties, into whose arms she
threw herself, Northumberland's insurrection was soon
quelled, and Mary firmly seated on the throne. By a
strange anomaly, she was styled Head of the Church of
England in her first Parliament, its first act being to
declare the validity of her mother's marriage, a fact which
rested on the Pope's edict as supreme Head of the Church.
Order could, however, only be restored by degrees, and it
would, perhaps, be hypercritical to accuse Mary of tardi
ness. In spite of the plundered monasteries and churches,
she found an impoverished exchequer and a load of debt ;
nevertheless, she refused to avail herself of the patrimony
of the Church, either to discharge the obligations of the
Crown, or to supply the necessities of her Court or to
reward those who had merited well of her bounty, in the
late rebellion. She had no private purse, but by strict
economy the debts were paid, confiscated estates restored
to their owners, and by degrees something like becoming
splendour surrounded the Court, which had become a by-
' Journal of Council. " Archaeologia," xviii. 175.

WAR AND PEACE. 95
word for puritanical gloom under Edward. Meanwhile,
she would not rest till restoration had been made of the
spoils of the Church, as far as lay in her power. She had
sounded the new proprietors as to the justice of giving up
the lands, to which they had neither rights of heredity nor
of purchase, but she had met with no encouragement.
The Earl of Bedford had thrown his rosary beads into the
fire, declaring with fury that he valued his fair abbey of
Woburn more than all fatherly counsel that should come
from Rome.° It was soon clear to her that, in the matter
of a reconciliation with the Holy See, such men as these
would rather remain unreconciled than release their prey.
It was a disappointment, but her own course was perfectly
clear. Gratitude, as well as justice, prompted her to begin
by rebuilding and enlarging the house of the Grey Friars
at Greenwich. The Austin Friars, who had been placed
there, when the Observants were turned out, had in their
turn been expelled, and the building had been suffered to
fall into decay. It was not in her power to restore the
church to its original beauty, nor to carry out her father's
magnificent design for a window which should, at least in
a measure, be worthy of the donor and of the Order.' But
such as she could make it it stood completed ; and on the
7th April, 1555, Maurice Griffin, Bishop of Rochester,
solemnly reinstated the exiled friars in their home.*
According to Wadding, many Observants had managed
to conceal themselves in various parts of the country
during the persecution, reappearing immediately after
Mary's accession. As early as 1553, there was a commu
nity at Greenwich, established under a Guardian ; but until
the completion of the new buildings and the recall of the
exiles, they were not officially recognized ; just in the same
manner as, until the public absolution of the people from
* " Portfolio of a Man of Letters." Monthly Magazine, Nov. 1820.
Cole MSS., Brit. Mus.
' See Hasted's " History of Kent," for a plan of this window.
Ibid.

96 FAITHFUL UNTO DEA TH.
heresy, the country could not be said to have returned to
the bosom of the Catholic Church. It was necessary to
observe the greatest caution in re-establishing the ancient
Faith. The influx of foreign heretics, with their revolu
tionary tendencies aggravated and inflamed by what they
were pleased to consider suffering for conscience' sake, had
effected, in the course of a few years, what Henry's greed
and Somerset's ambition had failed to compass. The
people had suffered so much at the hands of their rulers,
that they would gladly have turned to the only true source
of healing, had it been possible to apply the remedy before
quacks and charlatans had confirmed the disease, and
taught them to distrust the physician. The inflammatory
doctrines of Geneva, working upon a system already
excited to fever heat, had wrought a condition of mental
aberration, against which Mary laboured in vain. The first
public celebration of Mass was the occasion of a riot; a
dagger was thrown at one of the Queen's chaplains,
preaching at St. Paul's Cross, and another priest was
violently assailed at the altar.
Among the exiles were Friars Peyto and Elstow, who,
it will be remembered, had been banished for the active
part they had taken in defending Queen Catherine's rights,
or rather the Sacrament which her cause represented. We
have seen that Friar Peyto had gone first to Antwerp,
where Cromwell's spy Vaughan reports him as having
" put forth a book against the King's great matter." '
He afterwards proceeded to the Franciscan convent at
Pontoise, where he was hospitably received. He soon
joined his friend Reginald Pole at Avignon, and when he
' Wadding says he went to France, but the documents in the State
Paper Office prove that he was at Antwerp for sometime in 1533.
He was made Bishop of Salisbury in 1543, but Henry VIII. had
already in 1539 caused Salcot, alias Capon, to be raised to that
dignity. Later on. Cardinal Pole absolved Salcot, and as Peyto is
not called Bishop of Salisbury, in the Consistorial Act that made him
Cardinal, it is plain that the Pope recognized Pole's act.

WAR AND PEACE. 97

took up his abode as a student at the University of Padua,
Peyto accompanied him, and also followed him to Rome,
when he was summoned there, to receive the Cardinal's
hat at the hands of Paul III. Both Peyto and Elstow had
been attainted by Parliament, and they, together with
Cardinal Pole, could not set foot in England until the
attainder had been reversed. This occasioned repeated
delays in their return. It was a well-known fact that Pole
did not look with a favourable eye on the project of
marriage between Queen Mary and Philip of Spain. The
Emperor, who knew that his influence with Mary was con
siderable, contrived therefore to keep his cause in abeyance,
lest, by a swift return to England, the match should be
broken off. When at last the marriage had been accom
plished, the matter was brought before Parliament, and the
exiles were once more free to breathe the air of their native
land. Cardinal Pole, who had been appointed legate a
latere, with power to reconcile the kingdom to the Church,
sang his first Mass in the church of the Grey Friars at
Greenwich on the 22nd March, 1555.
Friar Elstow was made Guardian of this now famous
house, and the Queen took Friar Peyto as her confessor.
But in the disturbed condition of the populace, these
changes did not take place without considerable tumult ;
both friars were attacked by a mob as they were going
one day from London to Greenwich, and barely escaped
with their lives by jumping into a boat, but not before a
stone thrown at Friar Peyto had broken one of his ribs.
The King and Queen omitted nothing that might convince
the people that the Observants were under their special
protection. In August, 1555, they went in state to Green
wich, where they were received with great ceremony at
the long bridge by the Lord Chancellor and many of the
nobility, with a number of guards and attendants bearing
one hundred lighted torches. The procession being
formed, they proceeded to the church of the Grey Friars,
H

98 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
and performed their devotions with great solemnity, after
which they returned as they came.^
In 1557, Friar Peyto, being then eighty years of age,-
was created a cardinal of the Roman Church in a secret
consistory, and legate a latere in the place of Cardinal
Pole, who was summoned to Rome, to clear himself from a
charge of heresy.
It is almost incredible that a man who had been for so
many years an exile for his devotion to the Holy See, and
whose mother had laid her grey hairs on the block as partner
in his disgrace, should have been suspected of a want of
loyalty to the Catholic Church. Pole earnestly and empha
tically denied the charge, and protested against the injustice
done to him.^ Doubtless, he had been misrepresented by
his enemies ; but his position as legate was a delicate one,
Philip II. being at that time not only master in England,
but at war with the Pope in his capacity of temporal
sovereign. Mary deeply resented the aspersion on the
character of her friend and kinsman, and forbade
Peyto to set foot in England. He died in France soon
afterwards, and in the course of a few months the matter
was settled by the death of all the actors in the painful
drama.* The clouds that had been gathering during the last two
years of Mary's reign were the presage of a more violent
storm than had as yet broken over the English Church.
Elizabeth had begun by making common cause with her
sister's enemies. Together with Courtenay, Earl of Devon,
who owed his life and liberty to Mary, she had been
seriously implicated in Wyatt's rebellion. Courtenay had
been sent into honourable banishment ; but Elizabeth had
escaped with a year's seclusion— imprisonment it could
1 Hasted's " History of Kent."
' Lingard, vol. vii. p. 234.
^ Letters of Cardinal Pole, v. 31-36.
' Anthony k Wood, Athen. Oxon. pt. i. p. 587.

WAR AND PEACE. 99
not be called, so silken were her bonds. Soon after this
she had asked to be instructed in the Catholic religion,
and after a remarkably short time of study had declared
herself convinced of the truth of the Church's teaching.
As she had been baptized with great pomp and circum
stance in the church of the Grey Friars at Greenwich,
and had never openly abjured the Faith, although she
had professed Zwinglian doctrines during Edward's reign,
no form of reconciliation was needed. Mary had, at first,
treated her with suspicion, because her house was the
refuge of every shade of heresy and revolutionary principle.
Now, however, she made a great show of devotion, hearing
daily two Masses, and conducted herself in such a way as
to convince all the world of her sincerity ; although Mary
could not but perceive that at Hatfield all her attendants
continued to be heretics. Time went on, and the painful
truth was borne in upon the Queen that her passionate
longing for an heir was not to be satisfied ; and she began
to treat Elizabeth as her successor. Shortly before her
death, she sent commissioners to her sister with an entreaty
that she would declare openly to which religion she
belonged, and Elizabeth swore that she wished the earth
might open and swallow her up, if she were not a true
Roman Catholic' Mary was thus able to die in peace,
believing that she had provided for the welfare of the Church
of England. Not a doubt seems henceforth to have crossed
her mind, not a care to have disturbed the serenity of her
last moments. Short as her reign had been, she had done
what she could, to wipe out the infamy that attached to
her father's name. She had made restitution as far as she
was able, stinting herself with this object, even to the
number of dishes placed on her table.^ She had been a
mother to the poor, who loved her through good and evil
' " Life of Jane Dormer, Duchess of Feria," by her Secretary, edited
by the Rev. jf. Stevenson, S.J., p. 72.
' De Noailles to the French King.
H 2

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

report, and she had paid her great debt to the Observants,
according to her power. She had not only restored them
to Greenwich, but had built them a convent in London,
and another in Southampton, and all these houses were in
a flourishing condition at her death. Novices had flocked
to them, and learned members of the Order, returning to
the scene of their former labours, had displayed an energy
and zeal in instructing those who had been led astray by
heretics, worthy of the first days of the reform.
The spirit of St. Francis was once more alive in the
land. The friars taught and preached and exhorted as
before ; and if they were spurned and treated with inso
lence, as sometimes happened now, they taught and
preached and exhorted all the more. It was the business
of shepherds to chase the wolf from the fold ; it was the
business of the friars to repair the damages which the wolf
had done, to bind up the broken and confirm the weak.
Much evil had been brought about by the irreverence with
which the Holy Scriptures had been treated by the sects.
Garbled versions had been circulated in the vernacular
and put into the hands of the ignorant and foolish, who
bandied texts with one another in taverns and at street-
corners. Holy things had thus been brought into con
tempt and ridicule, and the Observant, Friar John Stan-
dish, a man renowned in those days for his great pietv and
learning, exerted himself to prevent, as it were, the Bible
being torn to pieces by the mob.
" Being now returned to England," saj-s Friar Parkinson,'
"he observed, with great grief of mind, the intolerable
abuses which arose from the rash and false interpretations
of the Holy Scriptures made by women and illiterate men,
who were then indifferently permitted to read those Sacred
Books in their mother-language ; and he used his utmost
endeavours to have this weighty affair laid before the Parlia-

Collec. Angl. Min. p. 251.

WAR AND PEACE.

ment, to obviate for the future all such abominable irreve
rences being done to the Word of God, to hinder such
profanations of the Sacred Text, and to prevent the erro
neous and dangerous impressions apt to be made on the
minds of the ignorant people by the ridiculous explanations
of tailors, weavers, cobblers, silly women, and all sorts of
mechanics, who filled the thoughts of their unwary hearers
with such remarks as were unworthy the holy mysteries of
the Christian Faith."
If Mary had lived, no doubt this, as well as other evils,
would have been abolished. Not content with getting the
matter laid before Parliament, Friar Standish wrote a book
on the subject, and another on the Unity of the Church,
besides several other works.
Among those who took the habit of St. Francis at
Greenwich, towards the close of Mary's reign. Friar Bour
chier was eminent, alike for his piety and literary attain
ments. He was descended from the Earls of Bath, and had
remained faithful to the old religion amid the shifting
scenes of the two preceding reigns. He had studied at
Magdalen College, Oxford, and was afterwards created a
Doctor of the Sorbonne.
Towards the end of his life, he wrote an account of those
friars of the English province who suffered martyrdom in
the years 1537 and 1538. He died at Rome about the
year 1586.
Richard Britan and John Dennis were both novices of
Greenwich about this time, and reflected honour on their
Order by their mortified lives. Britan had already dis
tinguished himself at Oxford by his defence of Papal
Supremacy, for which he had suffered a long term of im
prisonment. Among others, two Spanish Franciscans in
Philip's suite joined the Greenwich Observants at the
time when Friar Elstow was Guardian. These were
Friar Alphonsus a Castro, and Friar Juan de Villa Gar-
cina, both of whom were distinguished in the famous con-

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

troversy with Cranmer. One of his seven recantations, at
least, was signed under their influence. Friar Richel also
returned from exile in the Low Countries, and Friar John
Gray, who afterwards attained to the honour of martyrdom
during his second exile.
Thus had the new community sprung quickly into
vigour and activity ; there was no dearth of labourers in
the vineyard, and there was work, indeed, for all ; but the
night was coming on apace. Mary had ended her short
and troubled career, believing that her sister would carry
on the re-establishment of the Catholic religion in England,
and Elizabeth was still weighing her interests against her
conscience and her oath.
She continued to weigh these things during the first few
months of her reign, and, alternately, the hopes and fears
of Catholics and Protestants rose and fell in the balance.
II Schifanoya, Mantuan envoy to England, chronicles these
vacillations in a series of letters addressed to his govern
ment, showing the pressure brought to bear upon her by
the Protestant factions, and the gradual weighing down of
the scale in favour of self-interest.
She continued to have Mass offered in her private
chapel, but she forbade the Bishop of Carlisle to elevate
the Host, and when he refused to obey, saying that " thus
he had learnt the Mass," Elizabeth rose and left the chapel
with her attendants.
In his despatch of the 23rd January, 1559, II Schifanoya
says that the revels countenanced by the Queen on the
Feast of the Epiphany were indelicate, that crows were
dressed up in the habits of cardinals, asses were habited as
bishops, wolves represented abbots, &c.
He goes on to say that Dr. Cox, in his coronation
sermon, exhorted her to destroy the images of saints,
churches and monasteries, and all other things dedicated
to divine worship, and told her that it was very great
impiety and idolatry to endure them. The same writer

WAR AND PEACE. 103
alludes to a great increase in the number of church
robberies, about this time, in London, and says that the
returned preachers openly persuaded certain rogues to
forcibly enter the church of St. Mary-le-Bow, in Cheapside,
break into the shrine of the Blessed Sacrament, force open
the tabernacle, and scatter the consecrated elements on the
ground. The cathedral of St. Paul's was, according to II Schifa
noya, the last church in London to retain the celebration
of Mass. Bonner had been twice or thrice summoned
before the Council, and ordered to discontinue the Holy
Sacrifice. His answer was : " I possess three things, soul,
body and property ; of two, you can dispose at your
pleasure, but God alone can command my soul." The
new ritual introduced into the Church of England omitted
the names of the Blessed Virgin, of all the saints, of the
Pope, and of the dead ; but, in spite of all this, Elizabeth
was still deliberating whether .she would accept the offer of
marriage which Philip had made her, with the condition
that she should remain in the unity of the Catholic Church.
She took so long to consider that events outstripped her,
and finally decided her course of action. Philip, wearied
with her evasive answers, her duplicity and coquetry, and
foreseeing that heresy would ultimately carry the day with
her, sought an alliance with the sister of the French king.*
Not only did Elizabeth never forgive him, but from that
moment the fate of the English Catholics was sealed.
Henceforth Elizabeth was seated firmly enough on the
throne ; but she was pledged to exterminate the Church,
root and branch. Her task was no easy one ; the bishops,
unlike the supine courtiers of her father's reign, were, with
one solitary exception, staunch defenders of the P'aith. Per
secution had winnowed the chaff from the wheat among the
secular clergy, and those holy monks and friars who had
' Correspondence of the Conde de Feria with Philip II. Simancas
Papers.

IC4 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
already won the palm of martyrdom' strengthened their
brethren, alike by their prayers and their example.
The Observants were, perhaps naturally, again the first to
suffer. Elizabeth was always sensitive on the score of her
birth ; and even if she could have forgiven them all else, she
could not forget the part they had taken against her legiti
macy. But for them, perhaps, the people might have been
willing to acknowledge Anne Boleyn as their queen ; she
knew well that the poor loved them, and she had set her
self to dazzle and win the masses. With the nobility she
was haughty and imperious, towards her obsequious clergy
witheringly sarcastic ; but with the people she was famili
arity itself, accessible at all times, and ready to crack a
joke with the humblest. Of all her talents, her power of
throwing dust into everyone's eyes was, perhaps, the
greatest. The details of the suppression are scanty. On the I2th
June, 1559, the friars were expelled, and their house at
Greenwich incorporated into the royal palace. Of the
subsequent fate of this interesting foundation there is little
to add. The buildings were sold in 1652, by the Parliament,
to Richard Babington, and were removed after the resto
ration of the monarchy, to make room for King Charles's
Quadrangle in the Royal Hospital.

CHAPTER VI.
THE HIDDEN PROVINCE.
1559— 1617.
Ven. F. Buckley.
When the community at Greenwich was broken up, its
custos. Friar Stephen Fox, and several of his brethren,
sought a refuge in the Netherlands. The Grey Friars
were once more banished the kingdom ; but numbers of
them remained in hiding, suffering the most cruel priva
tions, and encountering hourly perils, from the spies and
priest-catchers with which the country was soon infested.
When Pope St. Pius V., who had long waited in the hope of
Elizabeth's conversion, at length issued his Bull of Ex
communication against her, her frightful career of blood
began in earnest. Then, statute after statute was formed
against priests, and those who harboured them. It was
made high treason for any ecclesiastic, ordained since the
first year of her reign by a Catholic bishop, to return to,
or to be found in England ; and it was declared felony for
any person to harbour, succour, or assist a priest, knowing
him to be such. It was a capital offence to deny the
Queen's supremacy ; it was a crime punishable with fine
and imprisonment to hear Mass, or to be found assisting at
any Catholic religious service.'
To these were constantly added other laws of increased
severity. The jails were teeming with Catholics, and many
families were reduced to poverty, by reason of the enor-
' R. R. Madden, "Penal Laws enacted against Roman Catholics,''
P- 93-

io6 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

mous fines exacted from them, for the privilege of absenting
themselves from the services of the state church. Even
then they were not secure from molestation. During the
latter part of Elizabeth's reign, the rack scarcely ever
rested from its hideous work, and Dr. Challoner estimates
that, from the year 1577 to 1603, as many as 125 priests
suffered death on the gallows. Milner states that the entire
number of Catholics who were martyred for the Faith in
those years, amounted to 186, of whom 142 were priests;
but, according to Lingard, during the last fourteen years
of Elizabeth's life, " sixty-one clergymen, forty-seven lay
men, and two gentlewomen suffered capital punishment,
for some or other of the spiritual treasons and felonies,
which had been lately created." ^
Strange to say, only one Franciscan died on the
gallows. Many were left to languish in prison without
being brought to trial ; some escaped the vigilance of the
pursuivants altogether, but at the price of the greatest
hardships, hiding for weeks together in caves and holes on
the mountain-side, and trusting for safety and nourishment
to the charity of poor shepherds and herdsmen. Some
times, even, the justices of the peace would themselves
connive at their escape ; but Topcliffe, and such as he, were
ever on the alert, like bloodhounds, eager and relentless.
Nevertheless, the Province had not yet become extinct
The scattered members of the Order, seemingly without
rule or discipline, thrown upon their own resources, with
no religious habit to distinguish them or remind them of
their vows, were as united in heart and in the spirit of their
vocation as if they had been enclosed in convent walls
and were leading a regular life in community. The
^ " History of England," vol. viii. p. 294.
There were at least thr?e women among these, Margaret Ward
Margaret Clithero, and Ann Line. Mrs. Wiseman was condemned
to death, but the sentence was not carried out, and she was released
on the death of Elizabeth herself.

THE HIDDEN PROVINCE. 107

interior and supernatural life, of which the grey habit, the
cord and the cowl were but as the signs and symbols,
flourished in prisons and hiding-places as it had flourished
in cloister and cell. Nor were subjects wanting to them.
Ardent souls, who in more prosperous times would have
been attracted by the love of poverty which characterized
the Observants, by the fervour with which the rule was
kept, by the spirit of mortification which animated the
brethren, were now drawn by the life of actual beggary
they would be called upon to lead, by the daily and hourly
prospect of being face to face with death, by an obedience
the more generous and ideal, because left to their honour.
The life of the one Franciscan who attained the distinc
tion of shedding his blood for the Faith, in the reign of
Elizabeth, is not unlike that of many others, and may
serve as an example..
Friar John Buckley, or Gryffith Jones, belonged to a
good Welsh family. He was also known as Robert or
Herbert Buckley, by reason of the various disguises he
was obliged to assume from time to time, and he was
called in religion Godfrey Maurice, or Godefride Moritius.
He laboured for more than twenty years as a secular
priest, twice falling into the hands of the priest-catchers.
It is said that he went abroad to be ordained in the first
year of Elizabeth, but how long he remained, and the date
of his return to England, we have been unable to dis
cover. His name occurs among the list of prisoners in
the Marshalsea, in the spring of 1582, and he remained
there about three years, when he was probably set at
liberty, as he is mentioned in a State Paper in the autumn
of 1586, in a list of " priests that have been prisoners, and
are out upon bond." '
The following year, however, according to Challoner,
he was confined in Wisbeach Castle, and from this place
» " The Rambler," New Series, vol. xi. p. 49.

io8 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH,

he either escaped or was released voluntarily. Possibly,
at Wisbeach, he encountered some holy Franciscan, in
prison for the same cause as himself, whose example
inflamed him with a desire for the religious life. He was
no sooner liberated than he went abroad, and was received
into the Order of St. Francis at Pontoise. But his desire
for perfection did not allow him to rest content with this.
Having been sent to Rome, he embraced the strict Obser
vance at the famous convent of Ara Coeli, where he
remained about three years. He was close upon sixty
at the time of his profession. A whole life of suffering
for the Faith was behind him, but his zeal and love were
far from satisfied. Like another great servant of God, it
seemed to him that there was no cross so great as being
without the Cross, and he did not rest until he had received
permission to return to almost certain martyrdom in his
native land. Before leaving Rome he sought and obtained
an audience of Pope Clement VIIL, who blessed him and
embraced him tenderly.
" Go," said the Holy Father, " for I believe you are a true
son of St. Francis. Pray to God for me, and His Holy
Church."* At that time Father John Gerard of the Society of Jesus,
with whose marvellous escape from the Tower many are
familiar, had taken a house in London, as a hiding-place
for priests, and had placed it under the care of Mrs. Ann
Line. To this house Friar Jones proceeded on his arrival
in England.
Speaking of Ann Line, Father Gerard says in his
narrative : " She managed my house for three years, and
received therein many holy priests. I always had a priest
residing in this' house, whom I used to send to assist and
console my friends, as I was unable, during my imprison
ment, to visit them myself. The first I had there was
* " The Rambler," from Father Garnet's Narrative.

THE HIDDEN PROVINCE. 109

Friar Jones, alias Buckley, a Franciscan Observant,
afterwards martyred, but then newly arrived in England." ''
Mrs. Line suffered death in 1601, as a punishment for
having harboured priests.
Friar Jones remained for some months in London,
maturing his future plans, and doing all the good that came
in his way ; then he laboured in different parts of the
country for about three years,^ during which time he won
such a high place in the estimation of his superiors, that it
is said, they made him English Provincial. If this be true,
he must have been in prison again when the seal of the
Province was delivered to him ; but the records about this
time were not kept very carefully, so that it is difficult to fix
exact dates, or to ascertain who was or who was not in
authority, partly on account of the secrecy which was a
sine qua non of existence, partly because of the dis
organized state of the Province. Father Garnet's letter
to Father Claudius Aquaviva, General of the Society of
Jesus, tells us all we know of Friar Jones's labours.
So great was his power of doing good, that it mattered
little to him whether he were free or in bonds, for he did
as much missionary work in prison as when he was in
possession of his liberty. People flocked to him from all
parts, to make their confessions to him, and to receive in
struction and counsel.
But to lead such a life, was to court the further envy and
hatred of his persecutors, and the kind of fame for sanctity
which Friar Jones had acquired was Topcliffe's oppor
tunity. To hunt up his previous history and. to inculpate
his friends was the priest-catcher's business, and Topcliffe
soon found out that Friar Jones had been "harboured " by
a certain Mrs. Wiseman, well known for her hospitality to
priests. She had a house of her own at Northend, Great
Waltham, which had been in the possession of her family
6 " Life of John Gerard," by the Rev. J. Morris, S.J., p. 208.
« "Rambler."

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

since the reign of Henry VI., and Father Gerard had re
commended her to go and live there, and maintain a priest,
and thus extend her sphere of good works, becoming an
apostle to many.'
Mrs. Wiseman was arraigned together with Mr. Barnes,
who had also been found guilty of assisting Friar Jones ;
but Mrs. Wiseman refused to plead, " not choosing to let
simple fellows damn themselves in ignorance, by giving an
unjust verdict against her." She was sentenced to the
peine forte et dure, but on account of her rank and good
name, her punishment was commuted to imprisonment for
life. She was therefore transferred to a more miserable
and filthy dungeon than the one she had occupied during
the trial, where she remained until the accession of James I.,
when she was liberated.
The peine forte et dure, which, in spite of all their ferocity,
the Queen's Councillors were too humane to allow in
London, was inflicted on Margaret Clithero at York. It
consisted of the victim being pressed to death, under a
shutter or door, upon which heavy stones were piled, one
sharp stone being placed under her back.
Mr. Barnes was also condemned, but experienced the
same " indulgence " as Mrs. Wiseman . at the hands of the
Queen's Privy Council.
Friar Jones alias Buckley alias Godfrey was by no means
to be allowed to escape. When he was accused of going
beyond the seas to be made a priest, and of returning to
England in that character, the judge informed him that
they were " sensible he was no plotter against the Queen,
but that he was a Romish priest, and being such had
returned to England, contrary to the statute of Elizabeth
27, which was high treason by the laws."
" If this be a crime," answered Friar Jones, " I must own

' " Records of the English Province,'' Brother Foley • " Life
of Father John Gerard," by .the Rev. J. Morris, S.J ., p, 100. '

THE HIDDEN PRO VINCE.

myself guilty, for I am a priest, and come over into Eng
land, to gain as many souls as I could for Christ."
Sentence of death being pronounced on him, he fell
upon his knees, and gave thanks to God in a loud voice.*
A few days later, on the morning of the 12th July, 1597,
he was drawn over the stones on a "sled," or hurdle, to
St. Thomas Watering's to be executed. On mounting the
cart which was drawn up under the gallows, he declared
his innocence to the people. On this, a gentleman who
was present, told Topcliffe with great earnestness that an
innocent man was going to be put to death.
" Patience a while, sir," said Topcliffe, '' you shall soon
see what manner of innocent he is." Then turning to
Friar Jones he said : " Tell me, if the Pope excommuni
cated the Queen, or tried to turn her out of her kingdom,
to encourage Papistry, what would you do, and what
would you advise others to do .¦¦ "
Friar Jones did not answer the question, but occupied
himself partly in talking to the people, partly in prayer,
and so Topcliffe "took the occasion to fix the treason
upon him." The hangman, having forgotten to bring a
rope, the martyr remained for about an hour, now praying,
now preaching to the people, declaring that he had never
spoken a word, nor entertained a thought in his whole
life against the Queen or his country, but daily prayed for
their welfare. All this time the infamous spy Topcliffe
continued to rail against him, charging him and all other
priests with disloyalty towards Queen Elizabeth, saying
that they would willingly kill her if they could.
" I am certain," answered Friar Jones, " that I myself
and all other priests and Catholics are ready to suffer much
more for the good of the Queen than you are. Master Top
cliffe, though your cruelty alone has been sufficient to
make her odious to all the priests in Christendom."

Challoner, vol. i. p. 196.

FAITHFUL UNTO DEA TH.

At length, a man was seen riding rapidly towards the
place of execution, and the people at once set up the cry,
" A reprieve ! A reprieve ! " But for answer the man
waved the rope in his hand. Great excitement prevailed
among the crowd, and when the rope had been adjusted and
the horses were whipped to drag away the cart, three strong
men clung on behind, and succeeded in holding it back till
the martyr had ceased speaking.
"Sweet Jesus, have mercy on my soul! "he prayed aloud;
and when the Under-Marshal mockingly said that he
forgot the Blessed Virgin, he added, " Blessed Queen of
Heaven, be my advocate, and pray for me now and ever."
Then he again said, " Sweet Jesus, have mercy on my
soul I " and immediately made the signal agreed upon, with
a priest in the throng, when he should give him absolution.
After this, he asked all Catho lies present to say one Credo
and pray for him, adding that he came thither to suffer
death for his conscience and his priesthood only. The
cart was drawn away in the midst of his prayers, and Top
cliffe's gibes and taunts, and he was allowed, by a singular
exception, to hang till he was dead. " So was he quartered,
and his head set upon a pole over against the pillory in
Southwark, which remained there two days, with so cheer
ful and smiling a countenance as when he lived, so that it
was great marvel to all beholders, so that many did come
to see it, that the officers did take it off and scratched his
face with the nails of their hands and other instruments,
disfiguring it, and so put gunpowder to make it deformed,
and set it up then again, but in short time it was taken
away, and kept as a relic : and fixed his four quarters on
four several trees, adjoining to the highway, and one of
the four quarters did bleed freshly within two days that it
was hanged, but all was taken away in short time." ^
' From a MS. vol. formerly belonging to the English Carthusians
at Nieupoort, now in the library of the University of Louvain, with a
few other remains of their valuable collection. See " Rambler."

THE HIDDEN PRO VINCE. 1 1 3
According to Challoner, his quarters were set up on
poles on the way to Newington and Lambeth ; and Dr.
Champney, as quoted by the author of the Memoirs, says
that his head and quarters were afterwards taken away by
the Catholics, and that he knew of two young gentlemen
who were apprehended and committed to prison for
attempting it One of the martyr's fore-quarters, he says,
was kept at Pontoise, in the Franciscan convent where he
was professed.^
In detailing the sufferings and death of Friar Jones in his
beautiful Latin letter to the General of his Society, Father
Garnet ends thus : " Such was the most happy end of this
saint May God make us all partakers of his merits. Your
Paternity will be pleased to communicate all these particu
lars to those pious fathers of the convent in which he once
lived, and to commend us to their prayers." ^
It is interesting to note here the affection that existed
between the Observants, and the Fathers of the Society of
Jesus, united as both Orders were in a common bond of
labour and suffering. No sooner did Luther raise the
standard of revolt against the Church, than the Observants
appeared on the ramparts, prepared to defend the breach
to the last drop of their blood. In Germany, France,
England, Holland, and Denmark, they fell by hundreds in
the struggle against heresy,^ fighting side by side with a
" band of auxiliaries " raised up for the express purpose
of opposing the common enemy of Christendom. St.
Ignatius of Loyola had strengthened the Church militant
with new auxiliaries,* and all that was noblest and
bravest in the old army made a conjunction with him,
fighting under the same banner, and sharing with him the
' Challoner, " Memoirs of Missionary Priests," vol. i. p. 195.
'^ " Collections illustrating the History of the Catholic Religion in
Gloucounties of Cornwall, Devon, Dorset, Somerset, Wilts, and
the cester," by the Very Rev. George Oliver, D.D., p. 562.
' "L' Aureole S&aphique," par le T. R. P, L^on, p. 161.
* Collect for the Feast of St. Ignatius. I

114 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
honours of the field. Shortly before his martyrdom, Friar
Jones had handed on the seal of the Province to Friar
William Stanney, henceforth styled Sub-Commissary
General of the Franciscan Province in England. The
chief event which attaches to the memory of Friar Stanney
is that of his giving the Franciscan habit, in the year 1614,
to one who was destined to be the founder of the second
Province, and to restore order and an authorized head to
the scattered and suffering members.^
Edmund Gennings, a young secular priest, arriving on the
English Mission from Rheims, where he had pursued his
studies and had received Holy Orders, went to his native
place, Lichfield in Staffordshire, hoping to win over his re
lations to the Faith. He found that they had nearly all died
in his long absence, but that one young brother was living
somewhere in London. To London Mr. Gennings there
fore went, for what he had heard of his brother's state, and
of the kind of life he was leading, alarmed him so much
that he could not rest, until he had done all he could to find
him. But he had no clue to his whereabouts in the great
city, and for a month he searched in vain. He had just
decided to leave London for a time, when something
extraordinary happened.
He was passing St. Paul's church one morning, on his
way to say Mass at the house of a friend, when he suddenly
experienced a strange sensation in all his limbs, his face
glowed, his hair seemed to stand on end, and he was
bathed in a cold sweat. Thinking that some peril must
be imminent, he looked back to ascertain if anyone were
in pursuit of him, but the only person in sight was a youth
in a brown cloak, who took no notice of him. Nothing
further happening at that time, the coincidence gradually
faded from his mind. But some days later, on the very
morning of his proposed departure from London, after
' Collec. Ang, Min. p. 262.

THE HIDDEN PROVINCE. 115
having prayed for patience and resignation to the
Divine will, he was returning to his inn after Mass, when
all at once he was overcome by the same sensations as
before. His road lay along Ludgate Hill, and no one was in
sight but the same youth in the brown cloak whom he
had before observed. Mr. Gennings now eyed him
attentively, and the thought crossed his mind that this
was perhaps the brother whom he had sought with so
many prayers. There was no sign but his own inward
agitation to guide him, for he had not seen his brother for
eight or nine years, and could not therefore recognize him
in any feature, for the child had meanwhile grown into a
young man. He went up to him, however, and inquired
courteously from what part of the country he came. The
youth answered that he was a Staffordshire man. Where
upon the priest asked him his name, and to his intense
joy heard that it was Gennings. He raised his eyes to
heaven in gratitude for this wonderful answer to his
prayers, and then explained, smiling, that he was the
young man's kinsman, and was himself called Ironmonger
(the name he had assumed for a disguise), and asked him
what had become of his brother Edmund. The boy
answered that he had gone to Rome, to the Pope, and was
a notable papist, and a traitor to God and his country, and
that if he returned he would infallibly be hanged. The
stranger, however, still smiling affectionately, said that he
had heard his brother was a very honest man, and loved
both the Queen and his country, but God above all,
adding, " But tell me, good cousin John, do you not know
him if you see him ? " John answered " No," but began
nevertheless, to suspect who his new kinsman was. At
last, Edmund Gennings made himself known to him, but
did not tell him he was a priest, and as he saw that his
brother was not then in favourable dispositions, parted
from him without broa,ching the subject of religion. They
I 2

ii6 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
agreed, however, to meet after Edmund's return from
the country.
On the 7th November, 1591, the holy priest was sur
prised by the notorious Topcliffe, while saying Mass at
the house of Mr. Swithin Wells, and was carried through
the streets to Newgate, in his sacerdotal vestments, to
gether with all those who had assisted at his Mass, to the
number of about ten.
His trial ended as was usual with such trials. A jury,
hastily impannelled, found him, and two other priests taken
with him, guilty of high treason, and they were condemned
to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. Edmund Gennings
was sentenced to be executed with his host, Mr. Wells, in
Gray's Inn Fields, before the door of Mr. Wells's own
house. John Gennings was in London during his brother's trial
and death, and hearing of his sufferings, afterwards
declared that he rather rejoiced than otherwise, con
gratulating himself on being quit of all the persuasions he
feared he should have had to encounter. But the martyr
proved to be a more powerful pleader in death than in
life. About ten days_ after the horrible butcheries in Gray's
Inn Fields, which had left the young man so strangely
unmoved, he returned home one day towards evening,
spent with pleasure and amusements. He threw himself
into a chair and began to go over the events of that day
and of other day.s, until he passed in review his whole life.
First it caused him to feel a great weariness and disgust,
and then his mind grew troubled. He thought of his
brother, and compared his manner of life with his own, the
horror of sin in the one, and the recklessness with which
the other fell into all kinds of sin. By degrees he was
overcome with terror and remorse, and he wept bitteriy,
praying that God would enlighten him and show him the
truth. After a time, he began to experience great interior

THE HIDDEN PROVINCE. 117
consolation, and dwelt with feelings akin to rapture, on the
thought of the Blessed Virgin and of the happiness of the
Saints in heaven. He imagined he saw his brother and
thought he heard him speaking out of the fulness of his
great joy. So deeply did these things take hold of him,
that he threw himself on the ground, and made a vow " to
forsake kindred and country to find out the true know
ledge of his brother's faith."
The impressions of that night never faded from John
Gennings' mind. Not only did he never return to his
former life, but he shortly afterwards left England, in order
to fulfil his vow. He went to Douay, where he became a
Catholic, then a priest in 1607, and some years later was
received into the Order of St. Francis.'
Between the two last-mentioned event?. Father
Gennings laboured on the English mission as a secular
priest, and in 16 14, Father William Stanney gave him the
Franciscan habit His vocation was fraught with signifi
cance for the whole Province, then in a state of collapse,
by reason of the long continuance of the persecution.
More than fifty years had passed since the breaking up of
the friaries in the first year of Elizabeth ; the old friars
were dying out by degrees, and the traditions of com
munity life were becoming obliterated. Moreover, there
was no settled novitiate, each subject being trained in a
different house on the Continent, and the Province suffered
necessarily in consequence.
Father John Gennings, whose devotion led him to
desire ardently the restoration of the Franciscan Order in
England, seemed to Father Stanney eminently suited for
this great undertaking, both on account of his virtue and
his special talents. With the consent of his superiors.
Father Stanney handed over to him the seal of the

" " The Life and Death of Mr. Edmund Geninges, Priest," written
by his brother. St. Omers, 1614.

u8 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
Province, and empowered him to breathe anew the spirit
of life into the dying embers.
Douay, Ypres, and Gravelines were all concerned in the
foundation of the Second Province. From the English
college at Douay six students followed Friar Gennings to
Ypres, to be trained by him in the religious life, at the
convent of the Franciscans of the strict Observance. The
little community was afterwards settled at Gravelines, and
from thence removed to Douay. Among them was the
celebrated Christopher Davenport, otherwise Francis a St.
Clara, Francis Coventry, and Francis Hunt, for by all these
names was he knowm at different times.' He had been a
student of Merton College, Oxford, where he fell in with a
learned Catholic priest whose conversation ultimately con
verted him. He went over to Douay at the moment when
Friar Gennings was collecting together the nucleus of his
future Province, and struck by the earnestness and singular
piety which characterized the whole movement, he was
resolved to enrol himself under the banner of St. Francis.
He accordingly entered the novitiate at Ypres October
17th, 1617, and, having completed his religious training,
returned to Douay, and was- incorporated among the
English friars, who had erected a small convent there.
Friar Davenport then gave himself up to study, and soon
showed signs of such remarkable capacity that he was sent
to the University of Salamanca, in order to acquire a
profound knowledge of school divinity. After a few
years, by dint of constant application to the study of
Scripture and the ancient Fathers, he became one of
the ablest and most learned theologians of his time. He
was then sent back to Douay, as first Professor of Divinity
in the newly-founded community. His reputation for
learning having spread beyond the limits of his Order, he
was subsequently called to England, and made chaplain
Panzani's Memoirs.

THE HIDDEN PRO VINCE. 1 1 9
to Queen Henrietta Maria. Apart from his extra
ordinary erudition. Friar Davenport was remarkable
for the charm of his conversation, for his agreeable
manners and prepossessing appearance. All these
qualities endeared him to Charles I., who insisted
on his frequenting the Court, a circumstance which
encouraged the notion that Charles was meditating a
union between the two Churches. Archbishop Laud also
entertained a great feeling of respect for Friar Davenport,
and made no secret of it ; but he was much more bent on
being Pope himself in England than on making any
serious advance towards the " Pope of Rome."
The Queen had obtained, after long negotiation, that a
Catholic agent should represent her interests and those of
her English co-religionists at the Vatican, and that a
Papal envoy should be accredited to her Court. Accord
ingly, Gregorio Panzani, an Italian priest, and secretary to
Cardinal Barberini, was sent to England, and for a time
believed enthusiastically in the dream of a probable re
union of the whole country with Rome. He gave it as his
opinion that the " true means of bringing about a reunion
was to examine the motives which had actuated Henry VIII.
in causing a schism."
Both Panzani and his successor. Conn, were optimists,
and made the mistake of thinking that the King's party
represented the nation, which might, as it were, be con
verted en bloc. They contemplated as possible, a conver
sion such as had restored England to the Catholic Church
under Mary Tudor. Within the Church of England many
shared this hope. Goodman, Bishop of Gloucester, went
so far as to ask Panzani's permission to keep a priest in his
house, to say Mass for him daily. It was also thought that
many clergymen hesitated to marry, in order that they
might keep their livings in case of a reconciliation with
Rome. Laud's attitude led to misconceptions on all sides.
One of the charges brought against him at his trial, was

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

that he had a " damnable plot to reconcile the Church of
England with the Church of Rome." *
Friar Davenport possessed as much tact as either
Panzani or Conn. If he expressed less enthusiasm, he was
prepared to make concessions which could not be tolerated.
His book, " Deus, Natura, Gratia," with its appendix con
taining an exposition of the Thirty-nine Articles, interpreted
in their most favourable sense, pleased neither Catholics
nor Protestants. The Spanish Inquisition put it on its
index, and it would probably have been condemned at
Rome, if Charles and Laud had not persuaded Panzani to
use his influence to stop the prosecutions. Thus it was
possible to go too far, even in a good cause ; Rome saw
what we now see plainly, but what the moving characters
of the drama could not see. The nation, instead of being
ripe for conversion, was in reality drifting farther and
farther away from the Church, and a Puritan reaction was
about to set in, almost as disastrous in its consequences as
Henry the Eighth's schism, or Elizabeth's apostacy.
During the civil war that followed. Friar Davenport was
sometimes in Flanders, sometimes in England, and under
one or the other of his various disguises, he visited Oxford
to consult books and manuscripts in pursuit of his studies.
At the Restoration he was made one of Queen Catherine's
chaplains, and resided at Somerset House, where he died,
May 31, 1680, and was buried in the church of the Savoy.
According to Anthony a Wood, his works were held in
great esteem.
In following the career of this learned Franciscan to the
end, we have somewhat anticipated events in the English
Province ; we must now retrace our steps to the beginning
of the second foundation, no less fruitful than the first in
noble confessors and martyrs.

' See Dublin Review, April 1889, " Henrietta Maria, Queen Consort
of England."

CHAPTER VII.
MARTYRS OF THE SECOND PROVINCE.^
The Ven. William Ward, Father Walter Colman, Ven.
Thomas Bullaker.
1 604- 1 642.
The hopes of the Catholics, regarding an improvement in
their condition on the accession of James I., were destined
to be cruelly disappointed. These hopes had not been
groundless, for the new King owed something to the
cause for which his mother had suffered, and he had
moreover shown himself friendly to her co-religionists
before he mounted the throne of England.
It has often been said that Elizabeth did not believe
in the guilt of half the victims whose death warrants she
signed, apparently without a scruple ; and of both
Elizabeth and James it may be fairly assumed, that the
' The authorities for this and the following chapters are : —
Friar Angelus Mason's " Certamen Seraphicum Provinciae Anglias,
in quo breviter declaratur quomodo Fratres Minores Angli calamo et
sanguine pro fide Christi sanctaque Ejus Ecclesia certarunt." Duaci,
1649, quarto. Lingard's "History of England," and Green's " History
of the English People.'' Dodd's " Church History of England."
Challoner's " Memoirs of Missionary Priests." M. de Marsys,
" Histoire de la Persecution prdsente des Catholiques en Angleterre."
This is an extremely rare book. The copy we have used was
purchased in Paris in 1886, but we have been unable to hear of
any other. The British Museum does not possess a copy, and the
book is not mentioned in the printed catalogue of tlic Bodleian
Library. It was printed in 1646, but there is no publisher's name on
the title-page. The author was an attach^ of the French ambassador
in London, and was present at the trial and execution of several of
the martyrs. There is a copy of another book by M. de Marsys in
the British Museum, which gives a clue to the manner in which this
one may have been put into circulation. In an Address to the Reader,
the author says : " II se vend rue Betisq, chez un chirurgien, vis-ci-vis
la rue Tire-chap."

122 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
religious question was with them one of expediency, and
nothing more.
If Elizabeth had any convictions, those stifled con
victions were Catholic ; if James had any opinions, they
were probably Calvinistic, for he had been brought up
from his youth in Genevan doctrines, and had repeatedly
expressed his gratitude to God that he belonged to the
purest kirk in the world, declaring that he would maintain
its principles " as long as he should brook his life." ^
But scarcely had he mounted the English throne, than
he began to see that Puritanism would eventually destroy,
not only episcopacy, but the monarchical system alto
gether, and that worldly wisdom lay for him in the
maintenance of the State Church as he found it. Thus,
starting from different points, self-interest led both the
Tudor and the Stuart sovereign to the same religious
policy. Elizabeth had cut herself off from the Catholic
Church, and James abandoned " the purest kirk in the
world," for the furtherance of their worldly prospects.
But in doing so he stirred up the Puritan wrath, and
found that nothing short of a persecution of the Catholics
would allay their suspicions, and secure him any peace.
In a short time, the revival of the Penal Code was forced
upon him, with the introduction of additional severities.
Arms, powder, and all kinds of ammunition were taken
from recusants ; no Catholic was allowed to enter a house
in which the King or his heir should be. The heir of a
Catholic, if a recusant, was to pay the debts his prede
cessor had incurred for recusancy. The husband of a
recusant woman, although he should be a Protestant, was
deprived of all participation in public affairs. A man
convicted of sending his children abroad to be educated
" in Popery," was punished by the confiscation of all his
goods. Foreigners residing in England, and even the
Lingard, vol. ix. p. 22.

MARTYRS OF THE SECOND PROVINCE. 123
accredited envoys of Catholic countries, had little more
freedom to exercise their religion than English subjects.
The Spanish ambassador lived in his house as if in a
besieged citadel, and his servants were obliged to escort
the Catholics who came and went, in order to protect
them against pursuivants. It happened not unfrequently,
that swords were drawn, and blood flowed in the streets.
If a man, although known as a violent heretic, were seen
coming out of the ambassador's house, he was imme
diately suspected of having assisted at Mass. The con
fessor of the Venetian envoy was arrested ; and would
have been executed for his priesthood, but for the inter
vention of James. In this manner, the Catholics had
been delivered into the hands of their bitterest enemies.
To foreigners and onlookers it was a strange anomaly
that the statue of Queen Elizabeth should be allowed to
stand at street corners and in the market-places, but that
if anyone ventured to put up a statue to the Queen of
Heaven, it was at once torn down by the infuriated
Puritans. It was death to give a cup of cold water to a
priest ; to possess an Agnus Dei or a rosary, was an offence
against the statute of premunire. The fines for non-attend
ance at the services of the parish church were extorted
with violence,' and even then the Catholics enjoyed no
peace. Their houses were liable to be searched at all
hours of the day and night, the pursuivants breaking in
and running upstairs with drawn swords, to the terror
of weak women and children.* Even the chambers of the
sick and dying were not respected.
Not only was the condition of things as bad as under
Elizabeth, but there was less hope of a term to the
sufferings of the afflicted people. She had been the last
" According to his own account, the King received a net income of
^36,000 per annum from the lay Catholics, for fines of recusanoy.
* See a " Narrative of the Gunpowder Plot," by Father John Gerard,
edited by the Rev. J. Morris, S.J.

124 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
of her race ; the old Tudor lust of power died with her,
and there had been at least a fair chance that the Stuarts
would befriend the Catholics. But the weakness of J:unes
proved as great an evil as the diabolical energy of
Elizabeth, and instead of one bitter enemy, they had a
thousand. Under the circumstances, it would scarcely
have been unnatural if, goaded into despair, deprived of
all that made life precious, the oppressed and miserable
people had taken the law into their own hands, and had
sought to overcome violence with violence. The failure
of what Father Gerard calls, in his " Narrative," the " pre
posterous Plot of Powder," was of course the signal for
increased malignity on the part of the Puritan faction,
who persisted in fathering upon the whole Catholic body
the wild and outrageous scheme concocted by five coura
geous, but misguided individuals.
Meanwhile, as wc have seen in the preceding chapter,
the old Franciscan Province had gradually become extinct
In the statistics of the General Chapter of the Order, held
in 1623, the English Province still figured among the
provinces of the Regular Observance, but, in common with
that of Denmark and Scotland, a cross was prefixed to its
name to indicate that it was defunct Two years later
its restoration was decreed, and the work successfully
carried out, under the auspices of the celebrated Father
John Gennings.
A few words of explanation arc here necessary, as to
the nature of the restoration, and the different degrees of
strictness which characterized the Reformed P'ranciscans in
general ; these distinctions being somewhat subtle, mis
apprehensions have arisen from time to time, causing a
certain degree of confusion on the subject Thus Father
Garnet, in his letter to the General of the Society of Jesus,
speaks of Father Jones as a PVanciscan " Recollect." Now
this term, in the sense in which he used it, did not then
exist in the English Province,

MARTYRS OF THE SECOND PROVINCE. 125
The religious of the Observance, engaged in the arduous
work of saving souls, spending themselves wholly in the
service of their neighbour, sometimes felt the necessity of
withdrawing themselves from the troubled highways and
byways of life, in order to refresh themselves by a more
unbroken and tranquil contemplation of divine things.
The convents set apart for this purpose were called
Houses of Recollection ; each Province was bound to
have one or two of them, for those who wished to lead a
contemplative and austere life, in preparatiop for their
future active duties. There they might breathe a purer
atmosphere, and live more entirely alone with God, than
was possible in a convent, where every subject was
occupied in ministering to all the various forms of human
misery that lay teeming at their very doors. But these
Houses of Recollection existed long before the introduc
tion of the term Recollect, as applied to one of the four
branches of the regular Observance. However, when by
degrees many such houses arose, especially in Belgium
and Germany, they were formed into Provinces, and the
members of their communities were styled Recollects of
the Observance ; yet for all that, these friars were not
properly speaking Recollects, but merely Observants.^
In the course of the sixteenth century, the great family
of the Observants was divided into four branches, calling
themselves respectively : Observants, Discalced Obser
vants, Recollects, and Reformed Franciscans. The first
branch belonged to the regular Observance, the three last
to the strict Observance. Although distinct from each
other, they yet remained united, and the difference between
them, more especially between the three last mentioned,
was nominal rather than substantial.
Friars of the regular Observance, and the Recollects
and Friars of strict Observance, may be therefore con
sidered synonymous terms.
'• "Aurdole Sdraphique," p. 156, and notes of Pere Leon, O.S.F.

126 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
At the time of the restoration of the Order in England,
by Father John Gennings, who also founded the convent
at Douay, of the Regular Observance, the friars were called
Observants. Later on, they united with their Belgian, Irish,
and Dutch Brethren in accepting the strict Observance. In
1675 they began to use a new seal, with the inscription :
" Sigillum Provincice AnglieE Fratrum Min. Reco Hector um I'
Friar O'Farrell, the last remaining member of the second
Province formed by Friar Gennings, gave up these seals,
with all the records which had survived the great French
Revolution of 1794, to the Belgian Recollects at Man
chester, who came to England in 1850 to restore the Order,
and to form a third Province.
The formation of the second English Province was
contemporaneous with the accession of Charles I., and
during the whole of his reign, the fortunes of the Catholics
rose and fell with his. James, by his weakness and incapacity
for governing, had sown the wind, and Charles, by the utter
vacillation of his policy and the want of integrity in his
character, was indeed to reap the whirlwind. It is true
that the opening of his reign seemed full of promise. He
had married a Catholic Princess, had unhesitatingly agreed
to bring up his children in the Catholic Faith, and had
signed a declaration that his Catholic subjects should not
be molested for their religion, either in their persons or
property, and that they should have more liberty than
heretofore. All these promises he broke. Not apparently
in a ruthless and cruel manner, but because he did not
possess sufficient firmness and resolution to carry them out.
Nevertheless, the infant Province grew strong and vigorous,
and in its turn gave birth to men of zeal and holiness,
future martyrs and saints. Although for some years the
Catholics enjoyed comparative peace, a reaction having
set in among the higher classes and those about the Court
in favour of the Catholic Church, it was as if this breathing
space were given to them in order that they might prepare

MARTYRS OF THE SECOND PROVINCE. 127
for the coming storm. In spite of the King's favourable
dispositions towards them, he found himself obliged to
replenish his coffers by the fines imposed on them by
the Statute Book ; and if a priest were caught he was tried
and punished with death, unless the Queen succeeded in
her intercession for him. In dealing with the laity, Charles
was never in favour of enforcing the extreme rigour of the
laws, but he was so often in want of money that he found
it useful to be very severe in the matter of fines.^ This
lenient attitude of the King's began by displeasing, and
ended by infuriating, the Puritans.
Laud's innovations into the Anglican Church appeared
to them like nothing less than a conspiracy with Rome,
and at length both the King and the Archbishop were
terrified into changing their policy.
On the Vigil of Pentecost, 1640, Count Rossetti told
Cardinal Barberini that Laud had thrown himself at the
King's feet, beseeching him to proceed against the Catholic
religion, at least from political interests, if not from con
scientious motives.
Laud himself now began to undo all that he had done
in imitation of Catholics, with a view to pacifying the
Puritans. The order to bow at the Holy Name was re
voked, and the Communion-tables, which he had caused to
be placed altar-wise, were put back into the middle of the
churches, and were re-christened tables. Altar-rails were
abolished, and a quantity of Catholic books were ostentati
ously burned in a public square. Nevertheless the Puritans
were not satisfied ; scarcely a service was held in the
Protestant churches without a tumult as to the manner in
which it should be conducted, and the more the Arch
bishop gave in to them, the more formidable they became.
The King's authority was at an end. In 1641, all Catholics

" See an article on " Corporate Reunion in the reign of Charles I."
in the Scottish Review, April, 1889.

128 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
who were able to do so, prepared for flight In vain did
Charles declare that he " loathed the superstition of the
Papacy from his very soul ; " it was too clear that he had
dallied with Rome. With a decided taste for the Catholic
religion, and a deadly fear of the Puritans, he committed
the fatal mistake of leaning a little to one side, and a little
to the other, not dealing to each justice and equity, but
for ever shuffling and vacillating, maintaining, in the
absurdities of what he chose to consider the royal preroga
tive, that all things belonged to Csesar. He was far too
weak for the position he thus assumed, and in his fall he
plunged the country into a new and frightful persecution.
The first martyr of the second Province was William
Ward, alias Webster. Although a secular priest, he be
longed to the third order, and wore the cord of St Francis.
This holy man was over eighty years of age when he
suffered ; he had been a priest for more than forty years,
and of these about twenty had been spent in prison, at
different times. Being sent to the English mission, he was
cast by contrary winds on to the coast of Scotland, where
he was taken prisoner, and thrown into a dungeon. Here
he remained for three years, without once seeing the sun
during that time ; and having at last obtained his release,
he went into England, where he had no sooner arrived
than he was again cast into prison, and so on, until the
year of his martyrdom. He was a man of austere life, of
whom it might be truly said that the zeal of God's house
had devoured him. His reputation for sanctity was such,
that many persons living in the world placed themselves
under his direction, although it was his wont to lead souls

' " The Parliament will take order likewise to have the Queen
Mother away, having given her /lo.ooo to clear her debts. She will
have but little comfort in staying here, now that the Papists begin to
be persecuted. There was one English priest hanged, drawn and
quartered on Monday last." Letter from Thomas Wiseman to Sir
John Pennington, July, 1641. Dom. Charles I., 43, P.R.O.

MARTYRS OF THE SECOND PROVINCE. 129
rather in rugged, than in easy paths. He suffered at
Tyburn, on the 26th July, 1641.*
Father Webster may be considered a Franciscan martyr,
although a secular priest.
It will scarcely be denied, that the Franciscan Father
Walter Colman was truly a martyr, although, instead of suf
fering for his priesthood on the gallows, he died a lingering
death in prison. He was arraigned, together with five
secular priests, and two Benedictines, all of whom were
victims, as much of the King's irresolution and want of
courage, as of the bigotry and blood-thirst of the Parlia
ment. One of them, it is true, was acquitted, but Father
Colman was condemned merely on the false testimony of
one witness. They all, says Father Mason, received the
sentence of death with great joy, giving God thanks that
they were thought worthy to suffer in His cause ! '
On the intercession of the French ambassador, perhaps
also on that of Henrietta Maria, to whom Father Colman
had dedicated a poem called The Duel of Death, Charles
sent a weak message to both Houses of Parliament
asking the opinion of the members as to the desirability
of a reprieve for all the seven priests. The votes being
taken, it resulted that four should be executed, the three
remaining to be reprieved and banished.
In spite of this, Charles exercised his royal prerogative,
and reprieved all the seven. Hereupon, both Houses
petitioned his Majesty to take off the reprieve, and have
all the prisoners executed, and he repHed that he would
consider the matter.
Meanwhile, one of them died, and negotiations were
henceforth carried on respecting "the six." Then this
English Pilate, seeing that the mild and weak-kneed
protection, which was all he felt able to give, availed
' For a full account of the life and martyrdom of this holy priest,
see Challoner's " Memoirs of Missionary Priests," vol. ii. p. 83.
' " Certamen Seraphicum," p. 192. K

130 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

nothing against the robust hatred of the Pariiamen-
tarians, took water and washed his hands before the
people. "Concerning the six condemned priests," he wrote
from York, "it is true they were reprieved by our
warrant, being informed that they were (by some re
straint) disabled to take the benefit of our former pro
clamation ; since that, we have issued out another, for
the due execution of the laws against Papists, and have
most solemnly promised, upon the word of a king, never
to pardon any priest without your consent, who shall be
found guilty by law ; desiring to banish these, [the six,]
having herewith sent warrants to that purpose, if upon
second thoughts you do not disapprove thereof. But if
you think the execution of these persons so- very neces
sary to the great and pious work of reformation, we
refer it wholly to you, declaring hereby that upon such
your resolution, signified to the ministers of justice, our
warrant for their reprieve is determined, and the law to
have its course." ^
Such then was the protection Charles offered to his
Catholic subjects. Well might they exclaim with the
unfortunate Lord Strafford, " Put not your trust in princes,"
There is something ingenious in the manner in which
he contrived to shuffle the responsibility from his own
shoulders on to those of the Parliamentary party ; but the
ingenuity is entirely at the expense of the kingly dignity.
About the same time .that Charles was making these
miserably ineffectual attempts to save the lives of the six
martyrs and confessors, without any personal sacrifice,
he was giving the Pope's agent, Count Rossetti, to
understand that his not becoming a Catholic was due
to no dislike of the Catholic religion, but on account of
the danger of such a step to his crown and his life.
' Clarendon, vol, i. pt. ii. p. 490.

MARTYRS OF THE SECOND PROVINCE. 131
" But if," he declared, " he were enabled to recover his
power and authority, the Catholic cause would be
strengthened by supporting him ; and his conversion
might then be confidently looked forward to." ^
Surely, if Charles I. was a " martyr," as the Book of
Common Prayer has it, he was a martyr to his own
insincerity and double-dealing. The victims of his half
hearted policy continued to languish in prison. One by
one they were released from their sufferings by the
merciful hand of death.
Father Colman lingered for three or four years, in
daily expectation of being dragged to the gallows. To
gain some idea of what his sufferings were, we must bear
in mind that in those days the State made no difference
in the prisons assigned to the lowest grade of criminals,
and to those whose only offence was fidelity to the
Catholic religion. These prisons were invariably fetid
dungeons, dark, damp, and bare, unprovided with flooring,
and empty, save for the rats and other vermin which ran
riot among the accumulated filth of years. It is true,
that the jailor was usually accessible to bribes, and that
for a consideration, he might be prevailed on to throw
down a little clean straw for a bed, but this luxury
necessitated money, and the poor Franciscan possessed
none. Friends, indeed, he had, willing to provide him
with food and other necessaries, but these alms were
distributed at the peril of their lives, it being a capital
offence to relieve a priest. In Father Colman's case, no
such alleviation was possible ; his friends were scattered
by the war ; some were in the field, fighting for the
King, others in hiding, in prison, or in exile.
Refined and cultivated, belonging to one of England's
oldest families, brought up in the midst of the most
' Count Rossetti to Cardinal Barberini, 19th July, 1641. Roman
transcripts, Stevenson and Bliss, P.R.O.
K 2

132 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
polished society of his day, himself a brilliant wit and
scholar. Father Colman must have suffered a hundred
martyrdoms in his loathsome prison cell. Not for him
was the glory of shedding his blood for the Faith, sur
rounded by a crowd of witnesses ; for him were only
the lingering torments, the abandonment and the igno
miny of the Cross. So obscure was his fate that none,
not even his own brethren, knew exactly when the angel
of death came to break his bonds. Challoner says ' he
died in Newgate, in the year 1645.
The second Province had been placed under the special
protection of the Blessed Virgin, and it was decreed in
the congregation held in London, in the year 1632, that
the hymn " Tota Pulchra " should be sung every evening
in honour of her Immaculate Conception. It was as
Queen of martyrs that our Lady accepted the homage,
for during the whole of its existence, the English Pro
vince never entirely rested from some kind of persecution.
One of its earliest martyrs was Father Thomas Bullaker,
in religion. Father John Baptist of St Bonaventure. He
was born in the year 1604, of good Catholic parents, at
the very outset of the Elizabethan heresies, and he was
accordinglj'', if we may be allowed the expression, cradled
in persecution. His childhood and early youth were
passed amid scenes calculated to foster all noble senti
ments in the boy's nature, and to fire him with indig
nation, as he witnessed the atrocities perpetrated upon
a downtrodden and helpless people. At an early age he
realized the true value of all that a vain world holds dear,
and with the unhesitating directness of perfect integrity
and generosity, dedicated his whole life to God. In spite
of the penalties attending such a course, his father, a
leading physician at Chichester, sent him abroad to study
' " Missionary Priests," vol. ii. p. 98. See also " Certamen Seraphi
cum," p. 184, et seq.

VEN. THOMAS BULLAKER. 133
for the priesthood. He went first to the Jesuit college of
St. Omers, from whence he was sent in a few weeks to the
seminary of Valladolid, where he was called Thomas Taller.
Soon after his arrival in Spain, his fidelity to the
promptings of divine grace was put to a severe test. It
has been said that he had bound himself by a vow to the
Society of Jesus, and was intended by his superiors for the
English mission. But, however that may be, he received
another inspiration, for not Ignatius, but Francis, claimed
him for his own. The event was all the more wonderful
and perplexing, that the young man knew nothing of the
Franciscan rule, and he was moreover in a strange country,
the language of which he could not speak. Added to this
was a dread that his superiors would oppose the new attrait.
In his difficulty he prayed night and day, with many tears
and superadded austerities, till at last he found courage
to open his mind to his confessor Father Baker, S.J. He
was advised to make the " Spiritual Exercises " of St
Ignatius, at the close of which, it was clear to those who
had watched over the young student during his ten days'
retreat, that his true vocation was to the Franciscan Order.
Both Father Baker and the rector of the college joined
in asking admission for him into the convent of Spanish
Recollects at Abrojo, about six miles from Valladolid, and
he was admitted on the Feast of Corpus Christi, 1622.
From this moment, Thomas, or according to his new
name, John Baptist Bullaker, made rapid progress.
Having received the habit of St. Francis, he sped through
the year of his novitiate as it were on wings, edifying
all around him, by his mortification and interior spirit,
so that he was admitted to make his profession with
out a single dissentient voice.
When he had completed his studies in philosophy and
divinity, in various houses of the Spanish Province, he
was ordained priest, being then about twenty-four years
old. At this fresh starting-point he was prevented by

134 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
the virtue of religious obedience from making a second
mistake as to his vocation.
The Province of the Immaculate Conception (the name
by which the Spanish Province was designated) was about
to send its yearly contingent of missionaries to the West
Indies, and Father Bullaker applied for permission to make
one of the number. The Provincial refused, saying that
his native land had a better title to his labours, and had
as much need of them as the Indies. We do not find that
the disappointment cost the fervent young religious even
a sigh ; another note had been struck, and proved, by its
perfect tone, that the instrument was in good order, and
admirably attuned to God's will, made known to him
through his superiors. He accordingly prepared himself
at once for missionary work in England, for a life of hourly
peril, to be consummated, almost to a certainty, by a
martyr's death.
After ten days spent in prayer alone with God, in silence
and recollection, he was ready. Equipped with the courage,
humility, and charity necessary for a missionary's life, he
set out on foot, to traverse a great part of Spain and
France, and take ship at Bordeaux for Plymouth.
Perhaps, in spite of the disguise he had begged in Spain,
his zeal and piety betrayed him ; for no sooner had he
landed in England, than the captain of the ship denounced
him to the mayor of Plymouth, and he was thrown into
prison. Here he must have died of starvation, being left
for eight days without food, but for the charity of his
fellow-prisoners, who shared with him the alms they
received. From Plymouth, he was transferred to the county jail
at Exeter, where he suffered much from the company of
thieves and other criminals ; but his wants were to some
degree relieved by the alms of a few Catholics living in
that part of the country.
The judges having arrived at Exeter on circuit, Father

VEN. THOMAS BULLAKER. 135
Bullaker was brought before them, and invited to take the
oath of allegiance. He replied : " I give the king the
allegiance that is due to him from a subject ; I will obey
him in whatever the law commands, and I am ready to
confirm this by oath if it be required, and to prove it by
my acts, should the occasion offer. But, as in the oath of
allegiance there are clauses relating to the Pope, Christ's
vicar on earth, which I do not understand, with your
permission I refuse to take it."
They pressed him to admit that he was a priest, but he
called upon them to prove it ; and when they tried to entrap
him with sophistries, he remained silent His silence,
instead of irritating his judges, seems to have enlisted
their sympathy on his behalf. One of them by a sudden
transition from anger to extreme gentleness, even showed
him a way of escape which he was not slow to avail
himself of.
Turning to Father Bullaker, the judge said : " Before
next sessions you will have changed your mind, and will
humbly ask time for further consideration," and the
prisoner answered : " I cannot possibly say what may
hereafter be my decision, wherefore I humbly beg that
my sentence may be deferred till next sessions."
This was accordingly done, but even then Father
Bullaker was in danger from the malice of the ship's
captain who, seeing him about to escape, brought forward
a book, which he declared was a missal found in the
prisoner's possession. The book was handed round the
Court, and handled curiously by the assembled crowd,
as if it were some strange fetish, or dark obnoxious symbol
of devil-worship. As it passed from hand to hand, some
persons gave as their opinion that it was a traitorous
composition of the Jesuits to stir up rebellion ; others
declared that, whatever it was, its seditious character was
plain, and there could be no hope for the man who
possessed such a book. At last it reached the hands of a

136 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
gentleman who understood Spanish, and who declared
it to be a volume of Spanish plays. This solution put
the officiousness of the sea-captain in a ridiculous light,
a laugh went round the Court at his expense, and Father
Bullaker was sent back to prison.
How long he would have lain there is uncertain ; but
by the intercession of some Catholic friends at Court, he
was summoned at once to London, to appear before some
members of the Privy Council, by whom he was discharged.
But his health gave way, after the months of exposure
to cold and damp, and of semi-starvation he had under
gone in prison. He was attacked by a violent fever,
which left him so weak and shattered, that he never after
wards fully recovered.
Father Bullaker had come back to his native land, with
the hope of attaining to the honour of martyrdom, and
it was a longing that he shared with the best and
noblest of his fellow-countrymen. As, in times of wars
and invasions, a soldier's one ambition is to lay down his
life for his country, so the champions of Christ, aspired
to no greater glory in those troubled times than to die
a martyr's death. To some, the struggle was short and
sharp ; to others, the road that led to the goal was long,
and seemingly easy, and the crown of martyrdom the
unexpected end and reward of a life of faithful and humble
service. But all alike were animated by that same spirit, by
which Holy Mother Church inspires her sons to make it
their daily prayer, that they, too, although sinners, may
have some part and fellowship with the martyrs, and may
thus be permitted, in some measure, to share in the
Sacrifice of their Master. We can therefore sympathize
with Father Bullaker, when, after lying for months in prison,
a lull in the persecution recalled him, as it were, from active
service, and made it appear as though his hopes were vain.
The king had, at that time, not yet lost command of the

VEN. THOMAS BULLAKER. 137
reins of government ; he was still strong enough to main
tain some sort of unconstitutional order, and secure obe
dience, without even the reasonable check of a Parliament,
and Catholics meanwhile enjoyed a certain amount of
stealthy liberty through the influence of the Queen, who
always interceded for them when any special danger
threatened them. Happily, Charles did not consider
himself bound by his word to the representatives of the
people, never to pardon a priest without their consent, any
more than he felt obliged by virtue of his marriage promise
to protect his Catholic subjects.
For twelve years, therefore. Father Bullaker worked on,
doing all the good that came to his hand, to the edifica
tion of all.
He was made secretary to the Provincial, and afterwards
Guardian of Chichester ; but, full as his life was of good
works, there was still room in it for one unsatisfied longing.
He felt himself out of place in England, since there was
to be, seemingly, no martyrdom for him ; and at last he
sought and obtained permission to return to Spain.
But just about that time Charles was forced to summon
a Parliament, in order to obtain supplies, for the purpose
of quelling the rebellion in Scotland. He had, by his mis-
government and abuse of the royal prerogative, irritated
the Puritans to such a degree, that they met him in no
friendly spirit, and instead of voting him money, proceeded
to attack what they considered the national grievances.
The Parliament of 1640 was, in fact, the beginning of the
Civil War, which was to end nine years later, in the over
throw of the monarchy, and the total defeat of the Catholic
Church in England. The reaction affected the Catholics
at once. The Penal Laws could be put in full force at a
minute's notice, and the execution of the Franciscan
tertiary, the Rev. William Ward, in 1641, was the begin
ning of as bloody a persecution as any that had ever
stained the annals of the English nation.

138 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
Soon after the martyrdom of this holy man, Father
Colman and his six companions were sentenced to death,
and Father Bullaker who, at the first signs of a renewal of
the conflict, had given up all thoughts of leaving the
country, now pushed forward into the thickest of the fray.
London was always the headquarters of danger, and, with
the consent of the Provincial, he determined to devote the
rest of his life to ministering to the spiritual needs of the
poor Catholics in that city.
Not content with thus exposing himself to the notice of
the pursuivants, he took a lodging in a quarter where he
would be most likely to attract their suspicions, and when
they came to search the house, he went boldly up to them
and asked if he was the priest they were in search of.
They answered that he was not ; and on his telling them
that there was none other in the house, instead of arresting
him, they went away, as if they had not heard what he
said. Returning the next day for a further search, they passed
his open door, and saw him sitting at dinner with his
breviary lying on a table near him. But they neither
entered, nor appeared to take any notice of him. Father
Bullaker was not a little disturbed in his mind, fearing that
he was to escape after all ; but, as his biographer
remarks simply : "his hour was not yet come."
It came on the nth September, 1642. He was saying
Mass at the house of a devout lady, Mrs. Margaret Powell
one of the heroines of that reign of terror. Margaret Powell
was then about thirty years of age, and married to a Pro
testant husband who, however, left her free to bring up their
only child in the Catholic religion. Her life was passed
in good works, in prayer and fasting, and in visiting sick
priests in prison. Although cramped for means, by reason
of the fines for recusancy, which had almost ruined her,
she managed her small income so well, that she was able
to shelter a priest now and then, and thus to enjoy the

VEN. THOMAS BULLAKER. 139
privilege of having Mass offered under her roof. She
was of course surrounded lay spies, and one, a maidservant
in her house, whom she had tried to convert, went to the
pursuivants and asked what they would give her for
delivering into their hands a priest in the act of celebra
ting Mass, together with the lady who harboured him. The
sum of five jacobuses having been agreed upon after some
deliberation, and the woman having received part of the
money, she took them to an inn, in which was a room over
looking the one in her mistress's house, that served as a
chapel. She showed them a window, and told them that
when a curtain was drawn across it, it was a sign that
Mass was about to begin. Wadsworth, a notorious
apostate and priest-catcher, headed the band.
When the woman left them, they began to drink and
carouse, but were careful to remain sober enough to con
duct their undertaking with the necessary caution.
At the given moment, making some civil excuse, they
gained admittance into Margaret Powell's house, and in
this manner, says M. De Marsys, an eye-witness of many
of the scenes he describes, " they entered the Garden of
Olives, where they found not indeed Jesus of Nazareth,
but one of His disciples, who by his priestly vestments, and
by the unbloody sacrifice about to be consummated, repre
sented the bloody Sacrifice of our Redemption."
Father Bullaker was beginning the Gloria in excelsis,
when Wadsworth, advancing to the altar, laid violent hands
on him. Already before Mass, God had revealed to His
faithful servant that his prayer had been heard, and that
the time had come when he should lay down his life for
His sake. It was therefore with no shock of surprise
that he saw himself hemmed in on all sides, but turning to
wards the pursuivants he exclaimed, " Oh, had you but
waited until the consecration had been finished, when the
precious Body of my Saviour would have preserved me
from the violence you are meditating, and under which
my weakness may succumb ! "

I40 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
Some delay was occasioned by their indecision as to
whether the priest should be led through the streets in his
saterdotal vestments, in order that the people might enjoy
the spectacle. But Father Bullaker reminded his captors
of the danger they themselves might incur from the fury of
the Puritans. The stones thrown at him, would inevitably
fall upon them also ; they felt the potency of the argument,
and allowed him to resume his own coat, and led him
away to the sheriffs house.
Margaret Powell and her son, a child of about twelve
years old, were arrested at the same time, she for having
harboured a priest, he for having served the priest's Mass.
The vestments, chalice, books, beads, pictures and a silver
box for holy oils were also carried as circumstantial evi
dence before the sheriff. This man is described as a rigid
Puritan, and cruel persecutor of Catholics, who had
obtained his office by unlawful means and exercised its
functions with great iniquity.
In his own account of his arrest and trial. Father Bullaker
says, that after having waited half an hour, the sheriff
came in, and walking up to him, asked him if he were a
priest. He told him that he was.
" Then," said he, " how durst you presume to return to
England, in contempt of the laws which prohibit priests
returning hither under the severest penalties ? "
Father Bullaker answered that he came because he was
convinced that those laws were unjust, and therefore not to
be regarded, and added, that if they went on, they would
soon make it high treason to believe in Christ ; for it
appeared how little regard they had for Him whose image
on the cross of Cheapside they had lately so grossly
abused.* * " In 1643, after a solemn fast, the five chaplains of the Queen
were apprehended and sent to France, their native country, and the
furniture of her chapel at Somerset House was publicly burnt. The
citizens were so edified with the sight, that they requested and ob-

VEN. THOMAS BULLAKER. 141

Some of the by-standers here called out, asking in what
part of Scripture Christ had commanded an image of
Himself to be made.
" I answered,'' says Father Bullaker, " that though this
was not expressly commanded in Scripture, yet it was
agreeable to the law of nature, and in no way opposed to
the divine law ; for we may testify our love to a person by
the affection we bestow on his picture or image, and right
reason and experience both show, that an affront offered
to the king's image is an injury done to himself, and is
punished as such. For instance, I asked, if anyone in
sulted, trampled under foot, or broke to pieces the king's
statue, would you not say that he was guilty of treason ?
And if this is so, I entreat you, how much greater a crime
must it be to injure and insult the statue of Jesus Christ,
the King of kings, as you have so lately done ? "
As there was no possible answer to this, the sheriff put
another question to him, and asked for what purpose he
had returned to England.
He replied, that he had been sent for the purpose of
bringing his country back into the fold of Christ, from
which it had strayed. Being then asked whether the Pope
had sent him, he answered that he had been sent by those
to whom the Pope had delegated the authority and power
to send him. 1
The interrogation by the sheriff was now at an end, and
the martyr was conveyed to Newgate, but secretly, on
account of the mob which had collected in front of the
house. He was taken by a back way, through the house
of the constables by whom he was guarded, which was a
tained permission to destroy the gilt cross in Cheapside. The Lord
Mayor and aldermen graced the ceremony with their presence, and
'Antichrist' was thrown into the flames, while the bells of St. Peter's
rang a merry peal, the city waits played melodious tunes on the leads
of the church, the train bands discharged volleys of musquetry, and
the spectators celebrated the triumph with acclamations of joy." —
" Parliamentary Chronicle," 294, 327.

142 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
tavern. Here they gave him something to drink, and
Wadsworth began to question him as to his name and
birthplace, and his former associates in the county of
Sussex. He asked him where he had studied, and Father
Bullaker replied openly to all his questions, telling him the
names of two of his schoolfellows who had lately joined
the Parliamentary party, of his journey into Spain, and his
residence with the Jesuits at Valladolid, by whose kind
ness he had gained admittance into the monastery of
Abrojo, and how, at the end of his novitiate, he had been
clothed in the habit of St. Francis. All this information
was duly reported to the Parliament, and two days later
the martyr was taken to Westminster to be examined
before a committee of members appointed for that pur
pose. Wadsworth had brought the vestments and the
other things seized in the chapel, and had spread them
upon a table. One of the members having remarked con
temptuously that they were but mean in quality and
appearance, the prisoner answered that they were much
too precious for those in whose possession they were now
found, and that if he had not foreseen what had come to
pass, he would have provided far richer ones.
The chairman upon this, said severely, " Mean though
they be, they can serve as well as the best, for an idolatrous
worship." " What idolatrous worship .' " asked Father Bullaker.
" Why," said the chairman, " is it not idolatry to worship
bread for God ? "
" We worship not the bread and wine for God," replied
Father Bullaker, "but we worship Jesus Christ under the
species of bread and wine, as the Church of God has
always done from the days of the Apostles."
Like all partisans of heresy, ancient and modern, instead
of keeping to the point in question, and arguing it out
on logical grounds, the committee having received a
categorical answer, which may have disconcerted them

VEN. THOMAS BULLAKER. 143
somewhat, now shifted their position anxiously. In
turning over the objects on the table before them, they
suddenly discovered an altar stone, which one of them
examined curiously, exclaiming that he had found on it
¦' the mark of the beast." In his narrative of the proceed
ings. Father Bullaker declares that he could scarcely refrain
from laughing at the gross ignorance of the man, in not
discerning the sign of Christ's Cross upon the stone.
Going up to him, he said, " Since you are so well
acquainted with the beast, be pleased to tell me plainly
his name." This subject was then also abandoned
according to custom, and the prisoner was next asked how
he had dared presume to disobey the laws of his country.
He answered in the words of the holy Apostles, —
"Judge you, if it be just in the sight of God to obey
you rather than God."
Sir William Cawley, his old playmate and schoolfellow,
who became afterwards one of the king's murderers, then
put in, —
" You know, Mr. Bullaker, it is also said, ' Fear God and
honour the king."
" I know," replied the martyr, " that the Parliament,
which made it treason to be a priest did also by law
establish the government of the Church by bishops, by
the liturgy, and the ceremonies which you in this present
Parliament have abolished."
" True," retorted Cawley, " but it is allowed to us to
amend what was wrongly done before."
" I see clearly that you try to do so," rejoined Father
Bullaker; " but be assured, before long, and in the very
next Parliament the religion which you now pretend to
establish will be thrown out and rejected."
Cawley then exclaimed: "You will never live to see
that day ; " upon which the martyr replied : " I know well
that the time of my dissolution is at hand, but what I have
foretold shall surely come to pass."

144 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
They then declared him a traitor, and said that all the
troubles and disturbances in the kingdom were created by
such as he.
" I would to God," he answered, " that there were not
in this kingdom another kind of traitors, from whom the
nation has far more real, and greater dangers to fear. And
as for all your pretended Popish plots, I defy you to pro
duce any legal proof of one single treasonable attempt of
any Catholic, from the beginning of this Parliament to the
present day."
Veering off from this challenge, they asked how old he
was, how long he had been a priest, and how many years
he had been in England. He turned to his old school
fellow, and said : " This gentleman knows my age perhaps
better than I do ; " and Cawley replied, " You are thirty-
seven or thirty-eight ; " upon which the martyr said :
" Deduct twenty-four, and the remainder will tell you. how
long I have been a priest." He added that he had been
about twelve years in England. They, seeing how ready
he was to let them know everything they wished about
himself, thought he would be equally communicative
with regard to others. But when they asked him how
many priests there were of his Order in the kingdom, he
told them that they were mistaken, if they thought he
would betray his brethren, or bring them into danger, and
that he should say nothing at all on that head. Wads
worth then got up, and said that the man was so obstinate
and resolute, that if he were sent out of the kingdom by
one port, he would return by another, and Father Bullaker
affirming that in truth he would do so, an end was put to
the proceedings, after one more question on a point of fact
whether the Bishop of Chalcedon had conferred orders in
England. The martyr's name was sent up to the Chief
Justice, together with his examination, which had been
taken down in writing, and he was formally committed for
trial, and sent back to Newgate,

VEN. THOMAS BULLAKER. 145
At the opening of the Sessions, he was brought before
the judges, and, as he entered the Court, was observed
to make the sign of the Cross upon his forehead,
mouth, and breast, saying aloud : " By the sign of the
Cross deliver us from our enemies, O God," humbly pray
ing for a blessing in the name of the most sacred Trinity.
One of the judges expressing disapprobation, he began to
discourse on the virtue of the sign of the Cross, but was
interrupted by the Clerk of the Sessions, who called upon
him to declare whether he was guilty or not guilty.
Openly confessing his priesthood, he denied that he was
guilty in any other sense, and on being told that he was a
seducer of the people, he joyfully exclaimed : " You fill me
with gladness, for you give to me the same title which the
Jews gave to Christ ! " On being asked what brought him
to England, he replied that he had come to obey Jesus
Christ, to work in His vineyard for the salvation of souls.
He spoke of the power of his mission, which he compared
to that transmitted by God the Father to His well-beloved
Son, and by that Son to the Apostles. He went on to
compare it with that of St. Austin and his companions,
whom St. Gregory sent to England, and he concluded by
saying, that if he were guilty of a crime for having come to
announce the truth of the Gospel, then Jesus Christ, the
Apostles, St. Austin and others were also guilty, for all
were priests after the Order of Melchisedech, and exercised
the same functions, which were then called crimes in
England. Never was martyr more jubilant, never reason
ing more solid. Pressed again and again to confess him
self guilty, his answers were as lucid, as calm and full of
instruction, as if he had been a simple missionary dispens
ing Catholic truth in a heathen land to Jews, Turks, and
Infidels, instead of a prisoner on his trial for his life in a
so-called Christian country.
" Granted," he said, " for the sake of argument, that
what is contrary to the law is a sin. The I'urks have a
L

146 FAITHFUL UNTO DEA TH.
law by which it is a crime punishable by death to preach
Christ among them. Consequently, if your argument
holds good, those who infringe the law in this respect are
guilty of treason."
The judge replied that, in his opinion, such would be the
case, because the proceeding would be contrary to the law
of the Prince under whom they lived.
Smiling, Father Bullaker rejoined: "You are a good
partisan of Mahomet, and defend the Koran well," at which
a laugh ran round the Court, to the confusion of the judge.
At last, seeing that nothing was to be done with the
friar, who got the best of every argument, he had him re
moved, and turned his attention to Margaret Powell, who
was also brought up for trial on that day. But she soon
irritated him by her stinging words, full of a generous con
tempt of death and of their jurisdiction in such a matter as
she stood accused of. With great dignity and modesty
fhe expressed her gratitude to God, who had singled her
out for such honour, as to defend in public the faith that
she had always borne in her heart, giving her the magnifi
cent opportunity of sealing it with her blood. She declared
proudly that she had assisted at Mass, had harboured a
priest, and had done secretly what for so many blessed
centuries had been done before all the world. If it was a
crime she would be sorry to be innocent of it, protesting
that she would neither repent nor desist from it in future.
The almost royal dignity of her bearing, her eloquence, and
the sweet smile which accompanied her lofty words, made
a remarkable impression on all who heard and saw her.
One of the judges told her that she would do much
better to think of her soul, of her life, and of her family, and
to embrace the religion of the State, rather than to sacri
fice herself for papistical superstitions. She retorted that
when Parliament had made choice of a religion, it would
be time enough to invite her to adopt it, but that at
present, as that point was not decided, they being all at

VEN. THOMAS BULLAKER. ' 147
variance on the subject, it was ridiculous to ask her to
do such an impossible thing. Finding that they only
succeeded in drawing unpleasant truths from her, also ex
posing themselves to the gibes of the audience, the judges
sent her back to prison, while they made up their minds
what was to be done with her. In the afternoon of the
same day. Father Bullaker was sent for, in order that sen
tence might be pronounced upon him, his condemnation
being already a foregone conclusion.
In summing up the case for the jury, the presiding
judge, who had once more urged him to acknowledge
himself guilty, declared that the prisoner was convicted of
treason out of his own mouth. "You therefore want
nothing more," he concluded. " As to the rest, remember
that according to your oath and your office, you must
administer justice rightly in the sight of God."
But far from having accused himself. Father Bullaker
had persistently reiterated his innocence. He bade
the judge reflect on the iniquity of the sentence he was
about to pronounce, declaring that one day the Judge of
judges would cause him to appear before His tribunal,
where justice could not be corrupted nor the wicked
favoured, and where every drop of blood he had caused to
be shed would appear in testimony against him.
The martyr then went on to warn him that the death
to which he would then be condemned would not be a
passage to glory, such as he himself was about to pass
through, but to pains which would endure to all eternity.
The judge returned an impious laugh, and said that
the length of time was worthy of the pains, but that they
were still a long way off, and that meanwhile he would
pass sentence, and send the prisoner to keep the lodging
in the place he spoke of. To this the martyr replied that
he hoped in the mercy of God, and would pray that his
enemies might have a better fate.
The jury, after some deliberation, gave it as their
L 2

148 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
opinion that the accused by his own showing had not in
curred any punishment, and they were for having the
case referred to Parliament The presiding judge, how
ever, set aside this verdict, and immediately proceeded to
pass sentence upon him. "The laws," he said, "order
that you shall be taken back to the place whence you
came, and afterwards you shall be drawn on a hurdle to
Tyburn, and there hanged, cut down aUve, disembowelled,
quartered, and beheaded."
At these awful words Father Bullaker, in a transport of
joy, threw himself on his knees, and poured forth a rap
turous prayer of thanksgiving :
" Te Deum laudamus, te Dominum confitemur,
In te Domine speravi, non confundar in sternum."
Then rising, he bowed to the Court, thanked them for the
favour they had done him, and with undisturbed serenity
returned to his cell in Newgate.
In the interval between his condemnation and martyr
dom, he administered the Sacraments to a number of
Catholics, who came to see him in prison, and prepared
himself for death by prayer and fasting and by continual
acts of humility. Some of the Capuchins of the London
convent, who were still tolerated by reason of an article in
the Queen's marriage treaty, which gave her the right to
have them established near her, but whose position had
now become extremely dangerous, came to recommend the
community to Father Bullaker's prayers. He promised
that he would not forget them when he came before God,
and they ever afterwards attributed to his intercession the
fact that they were so wonderfully preserved at that time
from the fury of the populace.
With the intense thankfulness of one who finds himself
approaching the goal of all his hopes, he received the
bearer of the tidings that he was to be executed on the
following Wednesday.

VEN. THOMAS BULLAKER. 149
" I thank you heartily, my friend ! " he exclaimed, " for
this welcome and most joyful news. Believe me, if it
were not for my great poverty, I would not send you away
empty handed, but you will not fail to receive your
reward." By a singular exception in Father Bullaker's case,
neither the foul prison air, the privations under which so
many succumbed, nor the thought of the ten ible sufferings
that awaited him, so well calculated to make the boldest
grow pale, had the least effect on his health or spirits. It
was observed on the day of his triumph, that the bright
ness of his expression was undimmed, the fire of divine
love, and the joy of being so soon with God, lighting up
his whole countenance, and appearing to shine in every
feature. He had always possessed considerable beauty,
but on the day of his martyrdom, the bystanders
assembled to see him die, like those who witnessed the
martyrdom of St. Stephen, " saw his face, as if it had been
the face of an angel."
He was drawn to Tyburn on a hurdle, and having
arrived at the place of execution, he began to pray aloud
and to address the people in a manner which astounded
even the most obstinate heretics. About to die for the
priesthood, and for that alone, he would make the scaffold
a pulpit, and teach the people what the priesthood was,
and the awful mysteries that depended on it. " Thou art
a priest for ever, according to the Order of Melchisedech,"
he began, and proceeded to instruct them in the Sacrament
of Christ's Body and Blood, until he was silenced by the
officers. Once he had been interrupted by a Protestant
minister, who bade him not seduce the people with his
corrupt doctrine, but with great patience and sweetness
the martyr entreated him to let him preach for one short
hour. " You, indeed," he said, " are the minister of the
King of England, but I, unworthy though I be, am sent
by the King of Heaven, to hold out a helping hand to the

150 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
crowd whom you have sought to destroy." When at last
they would let him speak no longer, he held up his hands
to his face as a signal to one of his brethren in the throng,
who at once gave him absolution. He then stood for a
few moments in silent prayer, till the cart was drawn
away. Then, as he hung between heaven and earth, he
cast one radiant look on all around, and was cut down still
breathing, his palpitating heart torn from his bosom and
held up aloft, that the crowd might see it.
" Behold ! " cried the executioner, " the heart of a
traitor." It was the i6th October, 1642 ; Father Bullaker was in
the thirty-eighth year of his age, the nineteenth of his
religious profession, the fourteenth of his priesthood, and
the twelfth of his mission to England.
The sun, which had not appeared over London since the
day on which sentence had been passed, now burst forth
and shone on the martyr's holy relics.
After the horrible process of dismemberment, his head
was set up on London Bridge, his quarters were exposed
upon the gates of the city, but his heart, which had been
thrown into the fire, was rescued, together with some other
portions of his body. The Franciscan nuns at Taunton
possess the whole of an arm-bone from the elbow to the
wrist, a corporal saturated with his blood, and also the cor
poral he was using when he was arrested.
Although not a Franciscan, Margaret Powell is insepar
able from any account of the Franciscan martyrs. Her
trial and magnificent confession of faith were the outcome
of Father Bullaker's arrest in her house ; if he was guilty of
an infringement of the law, she too was accountable for
participation in the act, and she was prepared to abide by
the consequences. But when she was told that sentence
had been passed on him, and that her cause was held over
till the next session, all her boldness forsook her. For a
time she was inconsolable, and she began to fear that her

MARGARET POWELL. 151
unworthiness would prevent her receiving the palm of
martyrdom. It cost her more to make the sacrifice of
accepting a prolongation of her life, than it had cost her
to consecrate herself to death. Nevertheless, by degrees
the temptation to doubt left her, and she submitted herself
willingly to the good pleasure of Divine Providence. She
was again sent for by the judges, and told that, although
she had deserved death, they had deferred her sentence
through consideration for her sex and her high birth.
She replied, that they had been mistaken, if they ima
gined that this measure would alter her determination, for
she had employed the interval in the continual exercise of
her religion, and they must not think that the graces of
God had diminished, for He was too good and merciful
to forsake her in her need. Time, she continued, had
done nothing but familiarize her with the thought of
death, and the inconveniences of her prison had but
detached her from the love of life, and prepared her for
the pains in store for her.
The judges, however, renewed their former persuasions,
but God redoubled her strength so that she came out of
the struggle triumphant. AH the Court were astonished,
but the judges, irritated and confounded, condemned her
to death by common accord.
It was a Friday when it was announced to her that she
was to die, and the sentence was to be carried out on the
following Monday. During the intervening days her cell
was filled with an incessant throng of visitors. Catholics
and Protestants alike declared that her wonderful forti
tude must proceed from other than natural causes. She
received all who came with a smiling countenance, forgot
none of the accustomed civilities, and might have been
preparing for a wedding or a banquet, so gracious was her
bearing, so unaffectedly gay her smile.
It was observed that she spoke but little, and nearly
always of heavenly things, recommending herself to the

1 52 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
prayers of Catholics. Her sweetness and modesty were
remarked by all, as was also the fact that she never showed
the least annoyance at the manner in which she had been
mobbed in passing backwards and forwards from the
Court-house to prison. Her reputation soon spread
throughout the city, and M. de Marsys, hearing her spoken
of with such enthusiasm, greatly desired to see her.
" I found her," he writes, "standing on a balcony, at the
top of the prison, conversing very quietly with several
other ladies. To judge by their faces, it was they who
were condemned to death and she had come to con
sole them. She received me with a courtesy, mingled
with so much simplicity and grace, that I was charmed.
I learnt from her, and from those who were with her, that her
life was even then offered her, if she would but ask pardon,
or even acknowledge that she had done wrong. Several
Protestants urged her to do so, her husband pleaded the
happiness of their life together, and the need their only son
had of his mother. But she was already detached from
every human affection, impatient only to fly to the Divine
Lover of her soul.
Her jailors were touched and startled by a gentleness
and refinement, allied to a will that was adamantine. So
completely was she absorbed in God, that she had no
longer any earthly care, save that of knowing her boy to
be in the hands of heretics. Even this was not allowed
to disturb her perfect peace for long, the news being
brought to her that he had been released from prison, on
account of his extreme youth, and shortly after she heard
that he was to go to France with the Duchess d'Epernon,
who would have him brought up in her own house.
The day and hour having arrived when Margaret
Powell was to be taken to execution, a rope was placed
round her neck, and she was taken from prison, to be
dragged to Tyburn on a hurdle, together with the holy
Jesuit Father Holland. But as she was about to lie down

MARGARET POWELL. 153
on the hurdle, a messenger arrived with a decree, stating
that Parliament had again deferred her execution, and
ordered her to be kept in prison till further notice. This
blow nearly destroyed all Margaret's courage once more.
But her resignation to God's will was sincere and in
dependent of all conditions, and it was not long before she
triumphed over the bitter disappointment, and prepared
herself obediently to take up her life again where she had
so gl adly laid it down.
A little longer of suspense, of lingering hope of mar
tyrdom, and then she was released and pardoned. She
continued, as before her arrest, to minister to priests in
prison, and at last retired to Oxford, where she was living
to the great edification of all good people when de Marsys
wrote. To those of Margaret Powell's friends outside the Catholic
Church, the life she led, after her hair-breadth escape from
the gallows, must naturally have appeared far more useful
and profitable than would have been the ignominious death
to which she had been condemned. But Catholics, who,
however unworthy, have the privilege of apprehending
something of the secrets of the Saints, can appreciate the
martyrdom of thus coming down from the Mount, after
having been, as it were, face to face with the Most High.

CHAPTER VIII.
THE VEN. HENRY HEATH, 160O— 1643.
We find that Saints and Martyrs are less frequently
fashioned in the same mould than ordinary mortals. The
character of their holiness is more varied than the faces and
expressions in a crowd, or the multifarious dispositions of
those around us, so unlike are they to each other. Indeed,
there seems to be but one common characteristic in the
Saints, namely, their perfect conformity to the will q( God.
Other virtues are brought into relief, or merged into the
whole, one appearing more especially in one Saint, a
second being more conspicuous in another, resulting in as
beautiful a variety in the spiritual as in the natural world.
Thus, Father Henry Heath, known in Religion as Father
Paul of St. Magdalen, although a member of the same
Order, and a martyr for the same cause, is as unlike Father
Bullaker as St. John the Evangelist is unlike St Paul, or
as St Peter differs from St. John the Baptist.
He was born of Protestant parents at Peterborough, in
the year 1600. Deprived of the advantages of a Catholic
education, he arrived at the knowledge of the truth in a
manner significant of his whole future career of usefulness
in the Church. He had early shown a taste for learning,
and being at Cambridge ^ in pursuit of his studies, he
became remarkable for his love of books. To such a point
did he carry this bent, that he habitually rose at two
o'clock in the morning in order to secure more time for
study, and would awaken others at three or four o'clock
' At St. Bennet's, now called Corpus Christi College.

VEN. HENR Y HE A TH. 155

for the same purpose if they wished. It was observed,
that he led a far more religious life than his fellow-students,
and even in days when piety was no longer valued, when
learning had almost ceased to attract disciples at either
University, Henry Heath gathered round him a little knot
of associates, on whom his example had a powerful in
fluence for good.
Having obtained the degree of Bachelor of Arts, and
become librarian of his college, he turned his attention to
the questions of religion that were then in every man's
mouth. Instead of being content to take his theology
from the illiterate and ranting preachers so much in
vogue, he determined to examine and weigh the matter
thoroughly, on logical and historical grounds. He studied
Bellarmine, and Whitaker's attack on him, and was struck
with the accuracy of Bellarmine's quotations, and his
opponent's want of veracity.'^ He next applied himself
to the study of the ancient Fathers of the Church, and, as
he read, the grace of God illumined the page, and his eyes
were gradually opened to the truth and beauty of the
Catholic religion.^ He at once sought to share the
^ WiUiam Whitaker was Master of St. John's College, Cambridge,
Canon of Norwich and Canterbury, and Regius Professor of Divinity
in the University of Cambridge. He was born in 1548, and died in
the 47th year of his age. His works, chiefly controversial, are twenty-
seven in number ; an edition of the chief of them appeared at Geneva
in 1610. It forms two volumes in folio, printed in a small type, in
double columns, which fills more than 1500 pages. Whitaker em
ployed himself in attempting to refute the Catholic writers of the age
in which he lived, such as Stapleton, Harding, Campion, Sanders and
Reynolds. He then attacked Cardinal Bellarmine, against whom his
later works are directed. His writings have been highly extolled by
Protestants for their closeness of argument and extent of learning.
But Bellarmine and others have shown that he was not an honest
disputant, and that his learning was more pretentious than solid.
' Up to this point, the account of Father Heath's life is from the
narrative of Father John Spenser, S.J., who was born in 1601, and who
entered the Society at the age of twenty-five, subsequently teaching
theology and scripture at Liege. He returned to England, where he
exercised his ministry for twenty-five years, and made many converts.
He died in 1671. The narrative is dated May 23rd, 1643, about

156 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
treasure he had found, with the little band of students who
had gathered round him. Four of them became Catholics,
and entered religion ; one became a Jesuit, and the others
Franciscans. Thus, even before he had openly sought
reconciliation, he was fighting the battle of the Church,
and drawing upon himself the attention of heads of
colleges. It was clear that the Cambridge divines would
not suffer him to go on much longer, exposing the
weaknesses of Protestantism in its most famous stronghold,
especially as he at the same time professed to have dis
covered the remedy, in a return to Catholic doctrines. He
was informed that the authorities were about to proceed
against him,* and that he might soon expect either to be
thrown into prison, or expelled from the university. He
accordingly went to London, and applied to the Spanish
ambassador for admission into the Catholic Church. But
although this functionary did what he could, in affording
the protection of his house to his co-religionists in danger,
he was not prepared to incur the displeasure of James by en
couraging converts.^ Nothing daunted, however. Father
Heath next had recourse to a member of a well-known
Catholic family, Mr. George Jerningham, but he, too,
refused to have anything to do with the young man's con
version. The fact was, that the Catholics were in exceed
ingly great danger from spies, who not unfrequently would
three weeks after Father Heath's martyrdom. It is corroborated by
two of the martyr's fellow-studenis whom he converted. "Certamen
Seraphicum," p. 64.
* The Masters of Corpus Christi, during the five years that Father
Heath was at Cambridge, were Thos. Jegon, 1603-18, and Samuel
Walsall, 1618-26.
^ An extract from an intercepted letter in Spanish dated August
1653, shows what a harbour of refuge the Spanish embassy was to
the persecuted Cathohcs. It also shows how carelully they were
watched, and what accurate information was given of those who fre
quented the house. " Inthiscity of London, and throughout England,
swarm a very numerous company of Jesuits, monks and friars. They
have their general or superior in the Spanish ambassador's house in
which house almost every chamber is turned into a chapel where'are
altars and idols." Thurloe's State Papers, i, 403.

VEN. HENR Y HE A TH. 157
pretend that they wished to be instructed in the Catholic
religion in order that they might have opportunities of
worming secrets out of Catholics. Perhaps Mr. Jerning
ham may have remembered how, some years previously,
the spy. Beard, had been sent by a prisoner in the
counter, for conscience sake, " to a priest at the house of
Goodacre in Fetter Lane, to be reconciled. And the
priest gave him a primer book, so that he might learn how
to confess." He may have remembered how the spy was
allowed, all unsuspected, to go to Mass, and that he after
wards gave information of all those who were present ;
how he lodged with Catholics, found out their friends and
the priests who frequented their houses, and having been
treated with the greatest confidence and hospitality, went
and denounced them.
It was therefore not surprising if Mr. Jerningham looked
askance at the would-be convert and doubted his sincerity.
Father Heath was, however, not disconcerted, although in
great straits. He remembered to have read how Catholics
in their difficulties had recourse to the Saints, and especi
ally to the Blessed Virgin, and he prayed very earnestly
that she would help him, promising that he would, in
return, dedicate himself to her service. Almost immedi
ately after this, he met Mr. Jerningham, who, instead of
repulsing him as he had before done, came forward
courteously and took him to a priest," who heard his con
fession and received him into the Church. He was then
sent over to Douay and cordially recommended to Dr.
Kellison, then Rector of the English College. At Douay
he naturally came in contact with the English Franciscans,
lately established there by Father Gennings, the nucleus of
the second province, profoundly animated with the spirit of
St. Francis. He could not but admire what he saw of
* The Rev George Muscot, " A strenuous labourer in the Lord's
vineyard, alterwards president of Douay College." Challoner, new
ed. vol. ii. p. 129.

158 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
their apostolic fervour, of the simplicity with which they
carried out the precepts of the Gospel, and he began to
consider whether he would not do well to follow their
example. The inspiration grew stronger as time went on,
but when he revealed his thoughts to his confessor, he was
discouraged from joining them, on the grounds that being
a convert, he would find their life too austere and difficult.
But by this time Father Heath was in love with the
Cross. He could picture for himself nothing more desir
able than a life of poverty, humility, and penance, and he
soon convinced, not only his confessor, but the Rector and '
Council of the College, that he had a true vocation to the
Franciscan order.
With the permission of the English Provincial, Father
Gennings, the Guardian of the Convent of St. Bonaventure
at Douay, received him at once, and gave him the habit of
St Francis.
So far from the rule proving too strict for the young
novice, he soon outstripped his contemporaries in the race
of perfection. Not only was he able to observe the pre
scribed austerities, but to add others suggested by his
devotion. It was noticed that he did not even avail himself
of the alleviations allowed by the rule, but dispensed with
the barest necessities of life, as others would give up
superfluities. He fasted four or five days in the week
upon bread and small beer, gradually reducing even these
to an infinitesimal quantity. He wore constantly a rough
hair shirt, and an iron girdle under his habit, and nearly
always slept on the boards of his cell, wrapped in a
blanket, deeming his straw pallet too great a luxury. The
community rose for matins at midnight, and when they
reassembled for prime, it was frequently observed that
Father Heath had remained on his knees during the
interval, absorbed in prayer. He multiplied his disciplines
and contrived always to have the worst clothes, the last
place, the smallest cell, but all the while observing in every

VEN. HENR Y HE A TH. 1 59
act, the most perfect obedience. Hard as he was upon
himself, towards others he was all gentleness and for
bearance. Later on, when he was made Guardian of his
Convent, and Vice-Provincial, his humility, meekness, and
recollectedness were such that he was considered a perfect
Superior. Having been professed, after a year's novitiate, he studied
theology under Father Francis a Sta. Clara, a pursuit
more congenial to him probably than any other. It
was a field peculiarly his own, by reason of past studies
and natural aptitude, and it was not therefore surprising
that his public disputations should be brilliant, his written
papers, <m all branches of theology, faultless.'
More wonderful far, were the lowliness of his thoughts
about himself, the childlike spirit which breathed through
his learning, his scrupulous fidelity to every duty of his
office. When already advanced to a high degree of
sanctity, he considered himself as merely beginning to
serve God, and was for ever jealous of the least obstacle
on the road to perfection. He had prescribed for himself
a life of unceasing interior mortification, denying himself
the smallest gratification in all his senses, and hence he was
rewarded by an almost uninterrupted spiritual consolation
and joy. Yet living, as he did, in a stronghold, hedged
round with fortifications, armed at all points against him
self, he was not far removed from human sympathy. Not
only did he visit the sick and instruct the ignorant, but he
held a warm place in his heart for those who wandered in
" hard ways " and crooked paths. Much of his penance
' His scholarship was vouched for by Poletius, who at that time
was Ordinary and Royal Professor, under whom he disputed and de
fended his theological Theses. He studied scriptures, councils.
Fathers and history, especially the annals of Cardinal Baronius. He
was appointed Lector of Scholastic Theology. Two years afterwards,
Father Wm. of St. Augustine died, and Father Heath became Lector
Primarius in the College, which chair he held for many years. His
explanations of Duns Scotus became celebrated, and his learning and
judgment were universally praised.

i6o FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
was offered up for heretics ; he would leave everything to
have the chance of helping them, and for years the thought
of his fellow-countrymen, suffering the worst kind of
bondage, was a torment to him. Those who came in con
tact with him were won over, less by the power of his
reasoning, the cogency of his arguments than by the irre
sistible attraction of his love.
What he heard of the progress of events in England
tended only to increase his zeal. As the king lost ground,
the fanaticism of the Parliament increased, and the prisons
all over the country were filHngwith recusants and priests.
In 1641 the news reached Douay, that two priests had been
put to death for exercising their functions, and that Father
Colman and his six companions were sentenced to die for
the same cause. Father Colman, who had received the
habit of St. Francis about the same time as Father Heath,
was his most intimate friend. The bond that united these
two valiant souls seems to have been rather that of a
common spiritual interest than any mere natural inclination.
Their friendship might be compared to that of two
travellers setting out together for a distant country, each
filled with an unconquerable desire to arrive at his
destination by the quickest means, disregarding the
difficulties of the road, the stones that pierced their feet,
or the storms that beat about their heads.
De Marsys must have mistaken Father Bullaker for
Father Colman when he says that he and Father Heath
made their studies together, and had contracted a deep and
lasting friendship for one another. He goes on to say
that as soon as John Baptist saw himself in certain hope
of martyrdom, he wrote to his dear companion to tell him
the joyful news, begging him to take his place, and care
for his penitents.*
Now it is certain that Father Bullaker and Father Heath
« Histoire de la Persecution presente des Catholiques en Angleterre.
Livre 3, p. 117.

VEN. HENR Y HE A TH. 1 6 1
never studied together in England, the one having been
brought up a Catholic, the other being a member of a
Protestant university. Later on, it was to St Omers that
Father Bullaker directed his steps, while Father Heath pro'
ceeded to Douay, and remained there during John Baptist's
sojourn in Spain. When Father Heath arrived in England,
Father Bullaker had already suffered death on the gallows.
But if we substitute Father Colman's name for that of
Father John Baptist's in De Marsys' narrative, we find
that events and dates tally completely.
At the end of that memorable year, 1641, Father Heath
wrote the following letter, " To his incomparably honoured
and infinitely beloved friends, Mr. Colman and his com
panions." " O most glorious men, most noble friends, and most
courageous soldiers of Jesus Christ I Your bodies are
the temples of the Holy Ghost, your souls are the celes
tial Paradise, your blood is more precious than all the
morning and evening sacrifices of Aaron and all his sons.
Alas, how great is my unhappiness that I am not permitted
to come to you ! that I might be partaker of your chains,
and offer myself to be consumed with that ardent love of
Jesus Christ which in your trials has made you so con
stant and victorious over human fears, so resplendent with
the gems of virtue, that not even Solomon in all his glory
was arrayed like you. O good Jesus, what crime am I
guilty of, that I am not to be allowed to enjoy your
company ? For there is nothing in this world that I desire
more, nor is it possible that anything can satisfy me so
long as I am separated from you. Wherefore, I humbly
beseech you, my friends, for the love of God, to pray
for me, that I may come to ¦ you, and never be separated
from you. " Your unworthy servant,
" Paul Magdalen." M

1 62 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

Like Father Bullaker, Father Heath only desired to be
in England that he might share the honours of martyr
dom with his brethren. Some years before, when there
was a lull in the persecution, and Catholics in England
enjoyed comparative peace, the Provincial had proposed
to send him back to his own country. But Father Heath
had so earnestly entreated to be allowed to continue the
hidden and mortified life he was leading at Douai, that
the Provincial consented. But now the case was changed,
and he prayed more urgently that he might be sent to
England, than he had before entreated to stay.
" Ever since I heard of the zeal and fervour of the most
blessed men who not long since went forth from us, and
are now detained in prison," he wrote to the Provincial
Father George of St. William, then in England, " the
greatest sorrow fills my soul that I am deprived of the
same happiness, and am not allowed to join them. When
I consider their unconquerable fortitude amid crosses and
sufferings, and behold them so constant in the faith of
Christ, so reckless of flesh and blood, so inflamed with
Divine Love, I am overwhelmed with shame, that while
they, like courageous soldiers, fight boldly under the
banner of Christ, I remain at home in idleness and
peace.'' The apostolic spirit of St. Francis breathes in every line
of this letter, in which the writer goes on to apostrophize
the martyrs, in a rhapsody of ecstatic longing to share
their sufferings.
" Should I receive but one word of consent from you,"
he continues, " I will not allow myself to be detained for a
single moment. This my petition is nothing novel or
unheard-of, nor is it anything but what stones and plants
and other inanimate objects, by a natural inclination, tend
to and pursue. For truly, all things of their own accord
tend towards the centre and end for which they were
created. And surely you do not deem him a brave soldier

VEN. HENRY HEATH. 163
who, when he hears that the army of his general is in the
field, drawn up in battle array, the drums and trumpets
calling his fellow-soldiers to the charge, yet indulges him
self in sloth and cowardice at home ? I confess my
unworthiness to exercise the apostolic office, or to presume
to suffer for the name of Christ, but His Apostle has assured
us that strength is made perfect in weakness, and that God
has chosen the foolish to confound the wise. Moreover, I
am convinced that the obligation to serve Jesus Christ is
laid upon me no less than upon others, and that I am
none the less bound than they, to suffer for Him. May our
most kind Lord inspire you to hasten your consent, and I
shall eternally remain, " Your poor son,
"Paul Magd."
To this touching appeal, the Provincial made answer
that in good time he should be sent to England, but at
present he was necessary to the Province at Douay, there
being so few Superiors and Lecturers available. But
Father Heath was neither discouraged nor baffled, know
ing perhaps that he was meant to obtain, as it were " by
violence," that which was to him the possession of the
kingdom of heaven. He waited some time in longing im
patience, then he threw himself at the feet of Father
Angelus Mason, the Vice-Provincial in Belgium, and with
many tears besought him to send him away. He told
him that he had lost his peace of mind, that he could not
rest at night, and that as he lay awake, it seemed to him
continually as if the hangman were putting the rope
round his neck. Father Mason, his biographer, says, in
the " Certamen Seraphicum," that, as he spoke, the scene
appeared so real that it was as if the martyr already stood
upon the gallows. Nevertheless, moved though he was.
Father Mason could not grant him the permission he so
ardently desired, but he gave him leave to make a pil-
M 2

1 64 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
grimage to the shrine of our Lady, at Mont Aigu in
Brabant. In doing so, he was granting far more than he intended,
for Father Heath never failed to obtain the desires of his
heart from the Blessed Virgin. It will be remembered
that even while he was a Protestant he had recourse to
her, and immediately his prayer was answered. At another
time, when he was Guardian at Douay, a deadly fever
raged in his community, already reduced by want almost
to extremities. There was no prospect of help from any
quarter, and Father Heath, believing that he too was on
the point of succumbing to the infection, again turned, to
her under her invocation of Consolatrix afflictorum. Not
only was the disease at once arrested, but the sick brethren
were restored to health, supplies of provisions poured in,
and peace and freedom from anxiety were given back to his
own soul. Encouraged by these wonderful graces, to ask
for still greater things, he next commended his aged father
to the compassion of the Blessed Virgin. The old man's
condition seemed almost desperate ; he had hitherto been
proof against all arguments, and at that time it appeared
as though he would persist in heresy to the end. Suddenly,
at the age of eighty, he crossed the sea, and knocked at the
convent gate, asking for admission into the CathoHc Church.
Not only did he make his abjuration at the College of St.
Bonaventure, but he ended his days there as a humble lay
brother. These wonderful signs of our Lady's protection, naturally
increased Father Heath's devotion to her. On his way
to Mont Aigu, he passed through Ghent, and took the
opportunity to make another appeal on behalf of his
cherished scheme, but all in vain. Father Marchant,
Commissary-General of the district, to whom he opened
his heart, could only suggest that he should petition his
immediate superior, and from him he had already received
a negative answer. His only hope henceforth was in

VEN. HENRY HEATH. 165
Mary's intercession, and he pressed forward to offer up
his prayers at her shrine. Before setting out, he had
written a long and fervent prayer to the Blessed Virgin,
which was also, in some sort, his last will and testament,
addressing her as " Mother of God and Virgin, beloved
Daughter of the Eternal Trinity, Spouse of the Holy
Ghost, special Patroness of the Catholic Church, Mother
of Orphans, Advocate of Sinners, most faithful Consoler
of the desolate and afBicted," &c.
In this outpouring of love and tenderness he gathers up,
not only all his personal devotion to the Blessed Virgin,
and all the favours he has received from her, but he
describes her place in God's plan of Redemption, her
action in the history of the Church, and all that men owe
to her gracious intercession. He thus concludes, in a
burst of enthusiasm which was neither extravagant nor
presumptuous, for the sequel shows how gloriously he
vindicated his right to make each bold assertion.
" O most Blessed Virgin, as from the first moment of my
conversion, so now my last will and testament is, that I
assign my soul to sweetest Jesus and to thee, that thou
mayst claim full possession, authority, and dominion over
it ; and I leave and abandon my body to be tried and
tested by all sorts of torments and sufferings, that it may
thereby be exercised from day to day in humility and self-
abnegation, and may advance quickly in the path of all the
virtues which thy blessed steps have trod. This my last
petition, and the summit of all my wishes, is, that after
such immense and innumerable favours thou wilt add yet
one more, and obtain for me fortitude and constancy to
press forward in the footsteps of thy faithful and victorious
servants who have gone before me. Then, if it be granted
me, thou wilt see with what willingness and alacrity I
shall give my bare back to be placed upon burning coals,
with what joy I shall drink the most bitter chalice, with
what glad and eager gaze I shall look on that much

1 66 FAITHFUL UNTO DEA TH.
desired knife, even while it transfixes me, that knife which
will deliver me from this wearisome and miserable prison,
and introduce me to the longed-for presence of thy
dearest Son Jesus, where in company with thee, I shall
dwell for ever. Amen. Quick, quick, quick I "
Having accomplished his pilgrimage. Father Heath set
out on foot, without shoes or money, as his rule pre
scribed, to return to Douay. He again passed through
Ghent, and brought his petition once more to Father
Marchant The result of this interview was not in itself,
seemingly more decisive than the first had been, but the
advice which the Commissary-General had then given re
sumed itself into the following words, which he wrote for
Father Heath to present to his superior.
"This man, inebriated in spirit, came some months
since to our presence, to ask leave, according to the rule,
to go to the English that were gone astray from the
Faith, assigning no other reason than that he might shed
his blood, and die with his spiritual brethren and for his
English brethren according to the flesh. I opposed him,
commending indeed his spirit, though moved with too
much impetuosity. At last I gave him an obedience, upon
condition his immediate superior would join his approba
tion." His immediate superior was Father Angelus Mason, to
whom he had already applied unsuccessfully, but he
presented this letter as soon as he arrived at Douay.
At first he only received the same answer already given
so many times, that he could not be spared ; but Father
Mason says in the " Certamen Seraphicum," that after com
mending the matter once more to God, he felt unaccount
ably impelled to give his consent Father Heath appeared
as it were transfigured on receiving the news ; heaven
had already begun in his soul. He spoke with rapture of
the glory of the martyrs, as though he were already
sharing it, and his every look, word, and act, betrayed the
intensity of his interior peace and joy.

VEN. HENR Y HE A TH. 1 67
He lost no time in making preparations for his de
parture. Our Lord's words : " I have a baptism to be
baptized with, and how am I straitened till it be accom
plished," were as the very marrow of his bones. His
superiors wished to provide him with a secular dress, and
with money for his journey, dispensing him from the rule.
He, however, declined both. With regard to the sailor's
dress, which he adopted as a disguise, there are two
different accounts. According to one, he cut and sewed
his religious habit, converting it himself into the necessary
shape, transforming his capuce into a cap like those worn
by sailors. But Challoner says that he set out from
Douay in his friar's habit, and having arrived on foot at
Dunkirk, he employed a tailor "to metamorphose his
friar's weed into a coat, waistcoat, and breeches, and to
turn his capuce into a kind of sailor's cap, in which he
sewed up some writings in defence of the Catholic re
ligion." " A German gentleman whom he fell in with on
board the ship, was so struck with his modesty and
humility, that he paid his passage, and offered him money
to take him to London, which however Father Heath
refused, preferring to beg his way in poverty.
On arriving in London his intention had been to seek
hospitality of the Capuchins, who, it will be remembered,
had asked Father Bullaker's prayers, as he lay in prison
under sentence of death. But the very day of Father
Heath's arrival, the whole community had been arrested,
and he found himself in consequence completely destitute,
with neither a roof to shelter him, nor a friend to give him
food, nor money to procure any.
His own account of his arrest, imprisonment and trial,
is printed in the " Certamen Seraphicum." It was written
in English, and the autograph was preserved in the
archives of the Franciscan College at Douay, when Father
Angelus Mason translated it into Latin. The re-transla
tion runs as follows : —
" Challoner, new ed. vol. ii. p. 132.

1 68 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
" Having received an obedience from my superior, I
crossed the sea in a poor sailor's dress. I arrived after sun
set in London, and went into the inn called the Star, near
the bridge of the city, to which I had been directed. But
about eight o'clock, they turned me out, saying that there
was no room for me there. Where should I turn, poor and
needy, without money, and destitute of all help ? For I
had come barefoot from Dover, where I landed, and I had
that day walked forty miles. Overcome by fatigue, I sat
down to rest for a short time, at the door of a citizen, in
tending afterwards to find out Father Colman,' to whom I
had a letter ; but before long the master of the house, who
had been out, came back, and asked me a number of clever
questions, while he sent secretly for a constable. The
latter quickly surrounded me with his people, and again
asking me a number of questions, searched me, snatched
my sailor's cap out of my hands, and finding some papers
which I had written in defence of the Catholic Chureh, he
sent me to the prison commonly called the Counter. In
the morning, I was taken before the Mayor, and on the
way, they told me that I should be required to take the
oaths of supremacy and allegiance, and that if I refused, I
should be imprisoned for life. On hearing this, I com
mended myself to God, preferring to declare plainly what
I was, rather than incur perpetual bonds. When we arrived
in the presence of the Mayor, he looked fixedly at me, and
asked, first, whose and what were those papers that had
been found upon my person. I answered that I had my
self written them to his Government and Parliament, in
order that, if in these perilous times I were taken up, I
might give an account of my faith through them.
Secondly, he asked me for what purpose I had come to
England. I answered that I had come to save souls^ as
Christ Himself came down from heaven to save souls, and
" He was then in Newgate.

VEN. HENR Y HE A TH. 1 69
sent His Apostles, bidding them teach all nations. He
replied, ' That is treason.' I answered, ' Then Christ and
His Apostles were traitors, when they preached contrary to
the laws of the heathen. But Christ is above the laws of
infidels and heretics, and therefore we ought not to quit
the service of God on account of men.' Thirdly, he asked
whether I was a priest. I replied, 'The priesthood in
stituted by Christ is honourable, for Christ Himself was
a priest. In the Last Supper, He made His Apostles
priests according to the Order of Melchisedech, and
bade them consecrate His Holy Body, and elsewhere he
said to them, " Receive ye the Holy Ghost ; whose sins ye
shall forgive, they are forgiven them, and whose sins ye
shall retain, they are retained." Though I am unworthy of
such an honour, I say in answer to your question, I am a
priest' "One who was a minister objected : 'You are not a
priest according to the Order of Melchisedech, because you
are of the Order of Francis.' I rejoined, ' Sir, your words
prove your ignorance. The Order of St Francis is a
religious Order, or profession to follow the example of Jesus
Christ. But the Order of priesthood is the Order of Conse
cration, to consecrate the Body and Blood of Christ in the
Blessed Sacrament. Therefore, whosoever receives the
Order of Consecration is a priest according to the Order of
Melchisedech, whether he be a Franciscan or belong to any
other institute.' Fourthly, he asked me why I went about
in that poor and miserable dress. I replied, ' To be poor
for Christ is to be rich indeed ; for Christ made Himself poor
for us, and the Apostles of Christ, following in His foot
steps, left all.' After various other questions, I was taken
away ; and as I was going, I said, ' I console myself by
the example of the Apostles, who " went from the presence
of the Council, rejoicing that they were accounted worthy
to suffer reproach for the name of Jesus." '
" Afterwards, I was brought before the delegates of the

I70 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

Parliament, and I was asked again by them whether I was
a priest or not. I answered almost the same as before.
' The priesthood is not wicked nor unlawful, for it had its
origin in the ordination of Christ Himself, who was a priest
according to the Order of Melchisedech, and made His
Apostles priests. St. Paul also says, " Let the priests
that rule well be esteemed worthy of double honour."
And again, " Neglect not the grace that is in thee, which
was given thee by prophecy with imposition of the hands
of the priesthood." And in like manner to Titus, " I left
thee in Crete, that thou shouldst set in order the things
that are wanting, and shouldst ordain presbyters in every
city, as I also appointed thee." Presbyter in Latin is pretre
in French, and priest in English. The priesthood there
fore is a Divine institution, and we are under an obligation
to defend it not merely with words and argument, but
with our blood. Wherefore, I also, though most unworthy,
am a priest'
" They further asked me with what intention I had come
to the country. I replied, ' I came to free souls from the
servitude of the Devil, and to convert them from heresy.'
They inquired what was the heresy from which they were
to be converted ; and I rejoined, ' Protestant, Puritan,
Brownist, Anabaptist, and many others, for as many as pro
fess these are rightly called heretics.' They added many
useless questions, as to the day, the hour that I had come
to this or that place, to which I gave fitting replies.
" Afterwards I was brought up before the judges of the
Sessions, where my accusation was read, and I was
accused of the deadly crime of being a seminary priest and
a traitor. I began an apology which I had in my mind,
thus : ' I think myself fortunate, most noble lords, that my
cause should be judged in so solemn an assembly, and
that I should have the opportunity of answering for my
self. I confess that formerly, up to my twenty-fourth
year, I was a Protestant, and professed the same heresy

VEN. HENR Y HE A TH. 1 7 1
that you do now. But as Job says, " Perish the day in
which I was born," so I heap curses and execrations on the
day in which I began to imbibe the Protestant supersti
tion.' I should have spoken at greater length, but the
judge called out, ' Stop him instantly, for he appears to be
only casting reproaches on our religion. Cut short all his
subterfuges, and make him answer the accusation.' I then
denied that I was a seminary priest, but not that I was a
Roman and Catholic priest. I declared that it was a great
honour to have received the priesthood of our Saviour.
The judge insisted that it was the crime of treason ; to which
I answered, ' I will prove that according to such reasoning,
Christ Himself and His Holy Apostles are to be accounted
criminals and traitors, because they were priests, and
preached in defiance of the laws of the kingdom.' He was
not satisfied with this reasoning, and insisted that it was
opposed to the laws of the kingdom. I replied, 'The laws
are tyrannical, and contrary to the Christian religion.' He
then repeated the question angrily, ' Are you guilty or not
guilty ? ' I answered, ' If you mean that I am guilty of a
crime, I am not guilty ; but if you mean what I have just
confessed, then I am guilty.' On hearing this, some of the
bystanders said, 'You area dead man.' I rejoined, ' It is
very glorious to die for Christ' At last they refused me
permission to speak, and passed sentence of death on me ;
upon which I said, ' I give thanks to this honourable court
for the singular favour they have done me, for now I am
going to die for Christ.' " "
The above account must, of course, be of primary im
portance and interest, coming as it does from the martyr's
own pen ; but there are some things he would naturally
not mention, and here the narrative of De Marsys, who

'^ " So far," writes Father Angelus Mason, in the " Certamen Seraphi
cum," " the very words of the Rev. Father have been here quoted,
which we have thought it unbecoming to change, because of the can
dour and sincerity which shines forth in them."

172 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
was present at his trial and execution, comes in admirably.
He says that after Father Heath's examination before the
Lord Mayor, he was confined in a prison with criminals
already condemned to death, and that, not content with
this ignominy, he asked to be loaded with chains, so much
pleasure did he take in suffering for Jesus Christ. On his
appearing before the delegates of Parliament, he was asked
in the course of his cross-questioning, the names of those
who had helped him to become a Catholic, but he told
them that his conscience did not allow of it. They then
threatened him, but he only laughed at their threats. At
the opening of the assizes on the nth April, having been
brought before his judges, he confounded them with his
reasoning, so that they were greatly irritated, and
threatened to put a padlock on his mouth if he did not
hold his tongue. When sentence of death was pronounced,
he received it with joy and thanksgiving. He was then
taken back to prison, where he heard confessions, and
administered Holy Communion to more than five hundred
Catholics. From the i ith to 27th April, the day of his
execution, he received a constant throng of visitors, and
among them about forty " ministers or preachers " and
sectaries of all sorts. Just before sentence had been
passed, he had written the following letter to a priest, his
intimate friend : —
" Very Reverend Father, — Your consolations have
rejoiced my soul. The judges have not yet given sentence.
I beseech the Divine goodness that it may answer my
desires, that I may suffer death for my Lord Jesus Christ.
Alas, P'ather, what other thing can I desire than to suffer
with Christ, to be reproached with ' Christ, to die a
thousand deaths that I may live for ever with Christ ?
For if it be the glory of a soldier to be made like his lord,
God forbid I should glory in anything but in the Cross
of my crucified Lord. Let, then, the executioners come,
let them tear my body in pieces, let them gnaw my flesh

VEN. HENR Y HE A TH. 173
with their teeth, let them pierce me through and through
and grind me to dust. For I know, I know full well, how
profitable it will be for me to die for Christ. The moment
of this suffering doth work an eternal weight of glory in
heaven. May your reverend Paternity be pleased to pray
for me a miserable sinner, who will ever be in the wounds
of Christ, until death be swallowed up in victory.
" Your Reverence's most humble servant,
" F. Paul of St. Magdalen."
On the day of his death, De Marsys says that two
preachers came to dispute with him on some points of
controversy, but that the heretics only remained in con
fusion, while the Catholics present were much edified and
strengthened in their faith, and came away in great con
solation by reason of his exhortations.
At last, he was sent for to make that painful and igno
minious journey to Tyburn, the thought of which had for so
long filled his heart with inexpressible joy. Someone asked
him how it was that he could look so happy at such a
moment, when everyone had at least a natural horror of
death, and he replied in these beautiful words : —
" I never doubted that my most merciful God would
grant a special sweetness to him who laid down his life for
justice and in defence of the Faith, but I could not possibly
have conceived anything so excessive as the joy which I
now experience, and which so overwhelms and melts my
soul that I can scarcely bear it."
On the way from his prison to the street, where the
sledge awaited him, that was to draw him to the place of
execution, he read the following declaration which he had
drawn up and signed in the presence of three Jesuit
Fathers, who afterwards testified to its authenticity.
These witnesses were : Father Thomas Harvey, Father
Simon de Mazaron, and Father William Jordan.

174 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
" Declaration of the Reverend Father Paul of St. Mag
dalen, about the oath of allegiance.
" I, the undersigned, through the grace and favour of my
sweetest Jesus, am about to-day to lay down my life for
His sacred law, and in defence of the Roman Catholic
Church, and to offer to Him the most precious offering,
after the gain of souls, that I can conceive. I declare
with my whole heart to all, and especially to Catholics
whom it most concerns, that the oath of allegiance, as it
is called, cannot and ought not, by any means or inter
pretation, to be taken by them, that is to say in its present
form, without the commission of grave sin and certain
ruin of their souls, unless they repent. I would give my
life in defence of this, as willingly as for any other article
or for the w^hole of our Holy Faith. I am certainly con
vinced that I should not die rightly if I held any other
doctrine or opinion about that oath. In testimony of
which I am now about to give my life for the cause of
God, and I subscribe my name with my own hand in
Newgate, Monday, 27th April, 1643.
" Such is my opinion, FATHER PauL OF St. Magdalen,
now called to the scaffold."
On seeing the hurdle with the horses standing ready,
Father Heath threw himself on the ground, hoping that he
would be tied to the horse's tails, and thus dragged to the
scaffold ; but this was not allowed, and he was drawn, ac
cording to the sentence, over the rough and muddy pave
ment reciting the " Nunc Dimittis," with acts of contrition,
repeating the Holy Name devoutly. When he arrived
at Tyburn, he got into the cart under the gallows very
joyfully, saying, " Into Thy hand.s, O Lord, I commend my
spirit." The rope was then placed round his neck, and leave
having been given him to speak, he said that he had come
back to England, with no other intention but to spend his
life and labours in the conversion of his country, and that

VEN. HENRY HEATH. 175
for this cause alone, he was brought to that place to suffer
an ignominious death. A certain minister here interrupted
him, exclaiming that he was not condemned for reli
gion, but for seducing the people. The martyr replied
calmly, —
" With no other justice can I be called a seducer by you
than with what my Lord Jesus Christ was called a seducer
by the Jews." They then forbade him to speak further,
and he obeyed. He asked to be allowed to hang naked,
in imitation of his crucified Saviour, and in the hope of
obtaining this request he had made such preparations of
clothing as would then have become necessary, but this
too was refused him. He then joined his hands over his
breast, closed his eyes, and remained about half an hour
in silent prayer.
Meanwhile, those criminals who were to be executed
with him, sang Genevan hymn.s, and it is said by a credible
witness, that Father Heath converted and reconciled one of
his fellow-sufferers, a convicted thief.
It was the feast of St Anicetus, Pope and martyr, and
his hour being come. Father Heath recited the hymn —
Martyr Dei qui unicum
Patris sequendo Filium, etc.
Then he murmured : " Jesus, forgive me my sins ; Jesus,
convert England. O England, be converted to the Lord
thy God." He raised his hands above his head, possibly for
absolution, for it is supposed that some such sign as this
had been agreed upon previously; the cart was drawn
away, and the martyr expired most placidly, even as he
sweetly sighed forth his prayer, his hands raised above
his head, and his eyes cast down.
His body was cut down, disembowelled and quartered ;
his quarters were fixed upon four gates of the City, and
his head was set up on London Bridge. He was in the
forty-third year of his age, and the twentieth of his
religious profession.

176 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
There were present at the execution, M. de Marsys and
Count Egmont, whose servants in his presence rescued
some of the holy martyr's relics. The Franciscan nuns
at Taunton have a part of the cord with which he was
hung, a bone about three inches long, and a corporal
saturated with his blood.
According to a tradition among the English Franciscans
at Douay, Father Heath himself brought the news of his
martyrdom to them, appearing to his aged father imme
diately after his death.
We may conclude this imperfect sketch of a life which
almost baffles description — so far removed from garish,
earthly colours are the spiritual hues of the original — by
recording the words written of Father Heath, after his
death, by Father Marchant : —
" This man was in his life-time possessed of lamb-like
meekness ; he was a mirror of integrity and sincerity, a
lamp of piety among the brethren, a pattern of religious
observance, a great light of theological learning in the
College of Douay, a star throwing out not only light but
heat"

CHAPTER IX.
the ven. ARTHUR BELL, 1590— 1643.
As Father Bullaker was leaving his prison cell for the
scaffold, he met a fellow-missioner, who said to him play
fully : " Brother, I was professed before you. Why do
you take precedence of me ? "
He replied : " It is the will ot God ; but you will follow
me." This was Father Arthur Bell, who a little more than a
year later fulfilled the prophecy. He was the son of good
Catholic parents, and, like Father Bullaker, had been
brought up religiously. His father was a country gentle
man, living at Temple Broughton in Worcestershire ; his
mother belonged to an old Suffolk family named Daniel,
of Acton Place near Long Milford. The future martyr
was born on the 13th January, 1590. His father died
when he was eight years old, and his education was carried
on by a tutor, in his mother's house, till the boy was
about thirteen, when he was sent into Suffolk to be
educated with his uncle's sons.
Here he remained, with the exception of one short inter
val, till his twenty-fourth year. When he had been about
three years at Acton Place, there was a fresh outburst of
persecution, on the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot, and
his uncle sent him back to his mother, thinking that he
would be safer at home, than in a county distinguished
for the number of its recusants, and constantly harassed
by pursuivants. But as soon as the alarm had in a
measure subsided, he returned, and pursued his studies
uninterruptedly till 1613, when he entered the Jesuit

i:S FA/THFUJ UNTO Di^ATH.
Coilego at St. Omers. x\t fust sight there is a .¦striking
resemblance between Father Roll, and I'athor Inillakor, not
only in the similarity of their caroor. but in the main out
line of their characters. Nor is the likeness a mere super
ficial one, although perhaps the points in which the\-
diffcred are to a caretul observer more remarkablo .-^till.
Each, in the beginning;-, placed hinisolt' under the care
of the Jesuits, and each entered at St. Omers. F.ither
Bell, after a year's study of rhetoric at that college, wa.-^,
like Father lUillaker, sent to \'alhulolid to study philosophy
and afterwards theolog\-, and here both recogni.ed that
their vocation was to the Franciscan order, although in
iMther Bell's case the knowledge came later, after he had
been ordained priest. The heads of the College supported
his petition to be received into the S(ianish Province ot the
immaculate Conception, and on oth August, i6l8, ho
received the habit from the hands of I'ather Sebastian do
Salazar, Guardian of the Convent of Segovia, together with
the name of Francis, by which ho was honcoforlh known in
religion. The training ho had gone through in the Jesuit
College now stood him in good stead. In solt-.ib.isemout
and careful ob.^er\ance of the rule, he gave groat eilifica-
tion, and altluiu;:;h he was a priest, ho would lVoquonll\-
prostrate himself at the feet of the other novices, as being
inferior to them all in his own eyes. .\t the end of his
voar of probation, he was admitted to his \ows and pro
fession b)' unanimous consent.
The similarit)- in the career o( tho two mart)'rs iloos not
stop here, but it is perhaps loss marked at a later period.
With regard to the resemblance in their characters, in tho
particular nature of their vocation, and tho special bout of
tiieir devotion, much might be said. In both, a woiulorful
sunniness of disposition icndorod the austere paths in which
they trod, one long track of light. In h'athor Boll thi.s
trait was particularly gracious and winning, his natutally
buoyant disposition forming a good basis for tho building

VEN. ARTHUR BELL. i79
up of every Christian and Franciscan virtue. Like flowers
that spring up almost spontaneously in soil adapted to them,
his piety, tenderness and sweetness flourished in the quiet
garden of religious life. But they were not mere orna
ments and graceful adjuncts to his spirituality, all was
rooted in profound humilit)-, in contempt of self, in love
of God, in chivalrous devotion to the Blessed Virgin.
Father Angelus Mason, his biographer, who had been his
novice, says that he was "a true son of the Seraphic
Father St. Francis," and even at this distance of time it is
apparent how diligently the one was moulded on the
example and precepts of the other.
If Father Bell resembled Father Bullaker in the manner
of his devotion, in the childlike beauty of his piety, he
was not unlike Father Heath in his love of learning, and
in the success with which he carried on his studies. En
dowed, perhaps, with less natural aptitude for great intel
lectual feats, he never rested until he had mastered the whole
subject of theological disputation, in order to refute Pro
testant errors in whatever form they presented themselves.
His devotion to our Blessed Lady was a part of that
strong protestation of love and gratitude to the Mother of
God, for which the second English Province was so distin
guished. It was a special feature in the lives of each of the
Franciscan martyrs, as though the indignities that blessed
Mother daily received at the hands of her rebellious children
stirred them to make grand and life-long acts of contrition.
Father Bell had been her devout client from his earliest
youth. He made a vow to recite her office daily, and he
said it by turns in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Spanish,
French, Flemish and English. For twenty years he
prayed that he might die a martyr, and with that in
tention he recited every day the thirty-third psalm.'
All his studies were directed by zeal for the glory of
God and the salvation of souls, and especially the con-
' Misprinted the thirty-fifth, but the " Certamen Seraphicum" gives
N 2

i8o FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
version of England. Soon after his profession, he was
raised to the office of preacher, by the Very Rev. Father
John Venido,^ as an especial mark of favour ; but before
the end of the year (1619), he was called by Father
Gennings to assist him in the restoration of the English
Province. He went therefore to the College of St. Bona
venture at Douay, and as his studies had been interrupted,
obtained permission to follow the course of theology in the
schools of the Benedictines, established in that place. His
masters were Father Rudesind Barlow and Leander of
St Martin, Doctors of Divinity, and Thomas Torquatus.
In 1622 he was appointed Confessor to the Poor
Clares at Gravelines, and afterwards to the nuns of the
third Order of St Francis at Brussels, then recently
founded. This community, which owed so much to
Father Bell's sohcitude, was transplanted into England
at the time of the French Revolution, and now flourishes
at Taunton, after three centuries and a half of chequered
storm and sunshine. For seven years he laboured
among them, and by his unwearied zeal and fostering
care, earned the title of founder of the convent, which,
ever since, they have loved to give him. He introduced
among them a methodical system of keeping their
annals ; he translated for their use, from the Spanish,
the life of Blessed Juana of the Cross ; he had the book
of their rule printed, and enriched it with a preface. A
sketch of the history of this Convent is contained in the
Appendix at the end of the present volume.
In 1630 he was made Guardian of St. Bonaventure
at Douay, Definitor of the Province, and Professor of
Hebrew. As Guardian, says his biographer, he was so
beloved, that the brethren looked upon him as the light
the opening words : " Benedicam Dominum in omni tempore." It con
tains many passages which show how well it is adapted to the case
of martyrs, and those who are suffering.
- "Certamen Seraphicum," p. 131.

VEN. ARTHUR BELL. i8i

of their eyes, and Father Angelus Mason speaks of having
made his vows to Father Bell, as the most auspicious
event of his life, and one of the greatest consolations he
daily experienced in religion.
His singular graciousness made itself felt in every
act ; if he commanded, it was with the humility of one
who loves to obey ; if obliged to administer a repri
mand, his charity far exceeded the reproof. His term
of guardianship had scarcely expired when he was
called to a still more important position, and he departed
from his beloved community at St. Bonaventure with a
heavy heart, leaving the brethren in tears. His destina
tion was Scotland, to which country Father Bergaigne, as
Commissary-General, was sending him, in accordance with
a resolution recently passed by a Chapter-General of the
Order held in Spain. This Chapter had appointed him
First Provincial of the Scotch Province, which he was
called upon to restore.
In Scotland, as everywhere else, his labours were
crowned with wonderful success, their results being felt
in the Province to the present day. In 1634, his task
having been accomplished. Father Bergaigne summoned
him back to the English Province, and he was
made Guardian of London. To this office was added,
three years later, that of Definitor, which he now filled
for the second time.
One of Father Bell's most attractive gifts was the
faculty he possessed of gathering up into his heart the
needs of those with whom he came in contact, and
never losing sight of them, even when other duties
crowded upon him, and other scenes might reasonably
have been expected to monopolize his interest.
This great gift of sympathy was perhaps the secret of
his power and of the love which he inspired in all who
knew him. Twelve years after his connexion with the
Franciscan nuns at Brussels had been severed, he wrote

i82 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
tlie following letter to Mother INIargaret Clare ^\"est, the
community being then established at Nieuport. Needless
to add, the letter has been preserved in the convent as a
most precious relic ever since.
" Reverexde Mother Abbesse, — I give God thancks
and hertily congratulate \-our election. I received a
letter from you, dated Februarie 15, 1641, with a
picture exceeding curiously wrought about the border,
and another letter, dated the second of March, 1641, with a
little crosse of Mother Catharine's, which I knew as sone
as I sawe it. God have mercie on her soul, and double her
spirit upon you, that you ma}' wisely governe and con
duct His handmaides to Him. I will not cesse to pray
for }-ou, as I would be prayed for by you, and the saints
with you, who, sitting safe in the porte, I hope will be mind
ful of us that are tossed in the waves of persecution, in
continuall feares to lose all that we have, and our lives
which we set at nought, to save the Catholicke faith
entire. Ye are right happie, that ye are there shrouded
from the world, where ye see not the e\'illes that are
done under the sunne, nor hear the continuall execrable
blasphemies spoken and \\-ritten heer by the adversaries,
against God's Church. Live and enjoy that happinesse
till God of His mercie give us greater and everlasting.
These be the wishes of jour Reverence's poor brother,
"Francis Bel."
" London this 3rd of Aprill, 1641."
Endorsed.— " To the R'^" Mother St. Margarite Clare,
Abbesse of the Cloyster of English Religious, of 3d
Order of S. Francis of Newporte."
The sufferings and heroic death of the English martyrs
and the glorious profession of faith of many who were
brought before the public tribunals, and who, although not
executed, suffered years of martyrdom in prison, could not
but stir up feelings of awe and reverence, in Catholics, all
over the continent

X''EN. ARTHUR BELL. 183
Foremost among those who took a lively interest in the
suffering members of the Church, was its Supreme Head,
the Father of all Christendom. Pope Paul V. had allowed
the Roman colleges from which the missionaries went out,
to sing a Mass of thanksgiving when the tidings of a
martyrdom were received, and he granted a Plenary
Indulgence to all who assisted at it. Again, the first move
in the Beatification of the English martyrs went out from
Rome, when the Cardinals sent instructions to Richard
Smith, Bishop of Chalcedon and Vicar Apostolic of
England, to make a catalogue of our martyrs, for which,
they told him, they were awaiting " with incredible desire."
This catalogue the Bishop sent in 1628, but it only included
those who suffered under Elizabeth, and in the reign of
James I., down to the year 1618. Subsequently Pope
Urban VIII. empowered Francis Van der Burch, Arch
bishop of Cambray (the Bishop of Chalcedon being aged,
infirm and in exile), to appoint a commission " to inquire of
the cause and kind of death of them who in their. respective
limits, during this last fierce persecution there (in England)
against the Catholics, have died for the Catholic faith." '^
Among those deputed by the Archbishop, was Father
Francis Bell.
The matter became the subject of a Parliamentary
Paper, equivalent to a Blue Book ; letters from Rome
bearing on the subject of the investigation were intercepted
by the Government, and the Puritans felt something like
consternation at the proceeding. It is probable that the
attention of Parliament was directed to Father Bell, from
the fact of his name appearing on the list of Commissioners,
for on the day that the report was published he was him
self called upon to take his place among the martyrs.

* See an article in The Month, April, 1870, entitled " A Parliamen
tary Paper of the Seventeenth Century," hy the Rev. J. Morris, S.J.,
also an article called " The English Martyrs," by the same authority
in The Month, January, 1887.

1 84 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
He had laboured for about nine years on the English
mission, supported in all the trials and dangers to which a
priest was subjected in those troubled times, by the hope
of laying down his life for the Faith, a favour which he
never ceased to pray for. He was apprehended on the 6th
November, 1643. His own account of the manner in
which he was taken is contained in the following letter,
written when in prison, to the Benedictine nuns in Brussels,
now settled at East Bergholt in Suffolk.
" Monday, November 6. — I set out from Brigstock in
Northamptonshire, on a carrier's horse I hired, for London.
Travailinge on my waye, on Twesdaye, I was staide at
Stevenedge by the garrison, who asked mee for letters, and
tooke what I had, which were two or 3. I thinke of noe
importance ; but by chaunce they found in my pockett a
little ragg of scribbled paper in Spanish ; it was a ragge of
paper broken, that I never regarded, nor thought of, nor
knew I had any such in my pockett ; yet this declared me
a Franciscian, professed in Segovia. This bitt of paper
was never shewed mee till I came to London. At Steven-
edge in Hartforsheer, where I was taken, I was kept 24
houres continually watched by 3 souldiers. On Wensdaye, I
was carried by Lieutenant Hall (whose sentinell tooke mee)
and by Thomas Jones (marshall of a brigade of 3000 men)
to Hartford, 8 miles. There, my papers were delivered to
the committee of the countye, Mr. Barber by name.
Committee Barber delivered mee to Marshall Jones'
custodie, to be safe conducted to the Parliament, on
Thursdaye morninge. All that ever I had, was taken from
mee by the marshall, meony and closes, shirt, bootes, and
ould raggs given mee to put on. In these I rodd to
London without bootes. I lay at the Angel in Bishops-
gate Streete, 3 souldiers watchinge in my chamber at night.
Frydaie morninge, I was examined at the Parliament
House, before Miles Corbet, Lawrence Witaker, and Sr.
Thomas Dacres— in fine, they have committed mee to

VEN. ARTHUR BELL. 185
Newgate for a Franciscan confessed, and a Roman priest
suspected. I hope nobody shall have any harme by any
thing I have saide, and for myself the worst they can doe
to mee is the best and most desired. God's holye will bee
done." The papers found in Father Bell's pockets mystified the
soldiers, who were ignorant men, and probably unable to
read. They called in the schoolmaster to decipher them.
One was a piece of parchment on which Father Bell had
written out the lessons of the office of the Blessed Sacra
ment. This was pronounced to be a " very serious matter,
and dangerous to the public safety," and the Parliamentary
Commissioners afterwards gravely endorsed the peda
gogue's opinion. Another document, declared to be a
superstitious spell or incantation, was the form of blessing
the Cord of St. Francis, and together with this was the
prayer, beginning, " God, who in order to redeem Thy
servant, was pleased to bind Thy Son," etc., also pro
nounced dangerous.
The most important of the papers was the letter
addressed to the Spanish ambassador, Don Alonso de
Cardenso, in which mention was made of Father Bell's
religious profession. It was not produced till his arrival in
London, but its contents, as will be seen, were sufficient
to condemn him. They were as follows : —
" Most excellent Lord, Father Francis Bell, of the Order
of S. Francis, professed at Segovia, declares that he receives
with great gratitude your offer to let him remain concealed
in your house. But he humbly entreats not to be bound
by the condition, which would be destructive to his
mission, that he should never go into public, to minister
to the salvation of his neighbours, to which he can never
consent." But we have anticipated events. The " Certamen
Seraphicum," giving for the most part the words of the

i86 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
martyr himself, describes his examination by various
officials and others at Hertford.*
" Many officers, generals, and persons of various classes,"
wrote Father Bell, " visited me, and one of them, a drummer,
who said he had seen me at Oxford where the King was,
asked me of what religion I was. I instantly answered,
' I am a Catholic' ' A Roman Catholic } ' he asked. I
answered, ' Just now I told you I was an Englishman. How
then can I be a Roman ? as to the Catholic Church, there
is only one Catholic Church, of which I am a member.'
All applauded this answer, chiefly because I did not con
ceal my religion, and I added, ' This, through God's grace,
I will profess till my death.' Another then asked me very
solemnly, ' Do you not believe that the Pope is the
Supreme Head of the Catholic Church ? ' I replied, ' I do
believe it, and I never doubted it.' They then began to
dispute in a confused way, as usual, upon the Church, and
its succession, founded on St. Peter. A Bible was brought
to search for texts. I detected several that werevery corrupt,
and reproached them very justly with them. After a
great deal of talking backwards and forwards, I reproved
their foolish opinions thus : ' To call every religion doubt
ful, is not the way to attract others to your doctrine, but
rather to establish and confirm them in the doctrine of that
Church to which Christ has promised infallibility. All
your efforts tend to this, that while you prove every
religion to have erred, you try to draw me from that
which cannot err, to that which must necessarily err, and
thus to deprive me of that which I possess and leave me
nothing. You would act to my soul, as you have done to
my body, in taking away all my clothes and supplyin'g
their place with rags.' After a while, the dispute was
* We have to a certain extent been indebted to Mrs. Hope's trans
lation of the account of Father Bell's arrest and trial, contained in the
" Certamen Seraphicum," carefully collating her work, and Bishop
Challoner's with the original text, supplying omissions and correcting
inaccuracies.

VEN. ARTHUR BELL. 187
broken off rather than finished. When I had told them
that out of the Catholic Church no salvation is to be hoped
for, and that I wished all of them were like me, except my
bonds, the officers retired, and left me with my guard. A
contention then arose, as to who should take me to
the Parliamentary Commissioners of Hertfordshire. At
length, one who seemed to be more zealous than the others,
perhaps because he wished to gain the favour of the
Parliament prevailed, and presented me to the Commis
sioners with all my papers. In doing this, he warned
them that the paper on which the blessing of the Cord was
written, was an incantation, by which I could escape out
of any prison or dungeon, and told them that they should
therefore take good care of me.
" The Chief Commissioner then asked me whether I
came from abroad. I answered in the affirmative. He
then inquired whether I had received Holy Orders, and I
replied that as this was considered a crime, no one was
required to answer such a question.
" The marshal, who was one of the persons who had
accompanied me on the journey, was irritated by my
answer. He claimed me as his prisoner, by right of his
office, and interrupted us by saying that I was reserved
for further examination. For the present, he limited
himself to stripping me to the skin, which had not been
done before ; and finding a key, he threatened me with all
sorts of tortures, unless I would say instantly and truly
where was the lock to which it belonged. Hereupon, I said
within myself, ' Lord, suffer me not to be tormented for gold
and silver.' Then, understanding that no harm could accrue
to others, I answered simply that it was in the hands of the
Spanish ambassador's porter. Rejoicing at the thought of
his booty, he placed me in close custody for that night.
" The next morning he went to the Chief Com
missioner, and gave into his care the above-mentioned
papers, together with the tablets, all tied up together

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

to be delivered as speedily as possible to the Parlia
ment." " Thus far," says Father Angelus Mason, " the holy man
has himself related, and in the course of the narrative
which follows, he tells how his keeper, having him com
pletely in his power, robbed him of all that remained to
him, and left him entirely naked. He was filled with joy,
that he should have been treated like his Lord, and his
own Father St. Francis, who had been left naked by his
father ; and when the soldiers gave him some old and torn
rags of a poor soldier, to cover himself with, he was filled
with greater joy at receiving this new habit of the Friars
Minors, than he had felt when he had been first clothed,
and admitted into the order."
Having done this, the keeper put him, almost naked, on
the bare back of a horse, and forthwith carried him off to
London. He was hooted and jeered at in the towns and
villages through which he passed ; but, far from taking
this in bad part, he thus describes the way in which he
travelled : " Unarmed and half naked, I was mounted on a
hack horse, but this was too much parade for one who daily
professes to take up his cross and follow Christ." Blessed
Brother Giles, a man of wonderful sanctity, has said : " Thy
soul should cleave especially to three things : the first is,
that thou shouldst willingly bear every trouble that befalls
thee ; the second, that for all thou doest and receivest,
thou shouldst more and more humble thyself; the third,
that thou shouldst faithfully love that good which cannot
be seen with bodily eyes," With all three things. Father
Bell was already very familiar. He had only to recall
the words of his Seraphic Father, which were impressed
upon his memory : " Dearest brethren, have always before
your eyes the way of humility and poverty, and of the
holy Cross, by which our Saviour Jesus Christ leads us
on ; considering that if it befitted His divine Majesty to
suffer, and thus to enter into His glory, much rather does

VEN. ARTHUR BELL. 189
it befit us, great sinners, to follow in the path of His Cross
and Passion. And certainly, if every Christian is bound
to take up his cross, the obligation is much stronger on us
who profess to follow the banner of the Cross. For God
wills that not only we ourselves should bear it, but that
we should incite others by our example and teaching, to
take it up and draw them along with us, in order that in
company with them, we may follow Christ our Leader."
The first thing that the marshal (who had watched him
very closely and carefully during the whole of the journey)
did, on arriving in London, was to shut him up in an inner
room, the doors of which he locked and barred. He
then set about persuading him by flattering promises,
intermingled with threats, to send without delay for the
trunk, of which he had the key ; and though Father Bell
saw what was his object, he readily assented, fearing lest
by a refusal he .should bring the place and the porter who
had the charge of it into trouble. It is scarcely necessary
to add, that when the box arrived, the marshal took
possession of all that it contained.
Under the custody of two guards. Father Bell was taken
to the Parliament Hall, and was examined by Sir Thomas
Dacres, Mr. Corbet, and Mr. Whitaker, justices. While
he was kept waiting at the door, the passers-by held him
up to ridicule. In answer to the inquiries of the justices
he said that he was born at Hanbury in Worcestershire,
and that he received the name of Arthur in baptism,
and Francis in confirmation, about thirty years before, at
St Omers, explaining to them that Catholics take a name
at confirmation. Mr. Corbet began to question him about
the persons named in his papers. He begged him not to
ask him about any third person, as it was against his con
science to injure anyone. Mr. Whitaker, however, insisted
that when it was for the public good, such considerations
ought not to be respected. They then proceeded to
examine the paper he had written for the Spanish

igo FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
ambassador, and asked whether it was his writing. He
acknowledged that it was, adding that it was only a rough
sketch of what he was thinking of writing. They asked
him if it did not show that he was of the Order of St
Francis, many members of which, by their own confession,
had been already brought before them. He replied that
he was a poor penitent of the Order of St Francis, and
it was lawful for anyone to do penance. They asked
instantly if he was a priest. He replied that such a
question ought not to be asked ; for, were he to answer
in the affirmative, it would be a crime, and if in the
negative it would be to the prejudice of others. After
wards, they asked many questions about the Breviary,
which he admitted to be his, and which he said was filled
with many most precious prayers dictated by the Holy
Ghost. This, Whitaker acknowledged, but objected that
they were mixed up with idolatry, which poisoned all the
rest. Some of the bystanders, however, suggested that it
was a Missal, and the question was debated, until Father
Bell explained to them the difference between the two
books, telling them that this was the Roman Breviary and
not the Roman Missal. Finally, they condemned him
unanimously, as a Friar Minor by his own confession, and
probably a Roman priest, to be lodged in Newgate.
Before he was taken there, the Commissioners having
understood that Marshal Jones had taken away his
clothes, rebuked him sharply, and ordered him to restore
them to him, as they did not sanction anything being
taken from him till he was convicted. Jones promised to
restore them, but never did so, on v/hich Father Bell says,
" I shall hear no more of my possessions till the Day of
Judgment, when I fear that I shall be reproached for
having violated holy poverty by having had so many
things to be taken away from me. I firmly believe that
these men were appointed by God to recall my vocation to
my remembrance. Deo gratias."

VEN. ARTHUR BELL. 191
Scarcely had he been twenty hours in prison when he
received the following obedience in a letter from his
Provincial Father George of St. William.'

I f)

" My dear Francis, — It seems to me that I have
been deprived for a very long time of the pleasure of
talking with and seeing you, especially as I have not had
any news of you. But not a single day has passed in
which I have not had pleasant memories of you, especi
ally at the time when they are the most precious, and I
earnestly ask you to do the same for myself. On the
death of Paul,' several of the brethren with whom I agreed,
urged me to call you by every possible obligation, to take
his place.' Accordingly, by the present letter, I ask you
to undertake this office as soon as possible, and, if in this
you fulfil my wishes, God will be your reward, and I shall
remain your poor and most loving brother,
"September ist, 1643. GEORGE WiLLIAM."
Father Bell's answer to this letter shows in what sense
he understood the order conveyed in it : —
" Reverend Father,— I received your command with
all due humility and promptitude in carrying it into
execution. Twenty hours before it reached me I had
taken possession of the blessed Father Paul's place in
Newgate. It only remains then for me to ask your
prayers, that I may persevere to the end. I entreat all
Christians, as St. Andrew did, not to prevent my passion.
Your poor brother, F. Bell."
Not long after this occurrence, letters patent to the
same effect from the most Reverend Father Commissary-
General, Father Peter Marchant, came to the prison. The
first ran as follows : —
' " The style in which it was written was peculiar, but it was
adapted to the circumstances of the case."— "Certamen Seraphicum."
" Father Heath. ' As Guardian of Douay.

192 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
" Very Reverend Father, — You are well aware that
the good and safety of our Province of England depends
upon your College of Douay, for which, primarily and
principally, provision must be made, not only in temporal
matters, but especially in spiritual ones. Hearing, then,
that your Reverence has not as yet been appointed to
any special locality in England, and perceiving that the
College of Douay is in extreme want of men who can fill
the offices of president, lecturers, and other necessary
duties which Father Angelus cannothimself discharge, and
having great faith in your Reverence as one possessed of
qualities with which God has endowed him, you are asked
to return into Belgium, in order that by your presence
and good counsel and help, the decaying college may be
aided, etc. {sic). I request, therefore, and I urge you as
much as I may do even with the merit of holy obedience,
to cross over as speedily as you conveniently can do so, in
order that you may render the necessary aid to your
province for the entire kingdom. I shall expect an
answer in the affirmative, nor shall we make any arrange
ments as to our affairs until we shall have information that
you are coming. Ghent, 13th November, 1643.
" Your servant,
" F. Peter Marchant, Commissary-General." *
On the 22nd November, old style, Father Bell wrote the
following reply : —
"Most Reverend Father,— Obedience and rever
ence. I have humbly received your Paternity's command,
and I shall obey it with all possible haste as soon as the
present impediment, for which no excuse is necessary, is
removed. The impediment is the following : on the 6th
November, O.S., I was taken prisoner by parliamentary
' Neither Mrs. Hope nor Challoner gives this letter which, as far
we know, is here translated for the first time. It is important, as
showing the high estimation in which the martyr was held by' his
superiors.

VEN. ARTHUR BELL. 193
soldiers on my way to London, was interrogated, and
being found to be of the Catholic religion was kept day
and night in charge of four soldiers. I was deprived of all
my things, my sword, my money, my clothes, even to my
shirt, and covered with the rags of some poor soldier, and
so was brought to the Parliament at London, where I was
again examined, and being recognized by certain signs to
be a Friar Minor, which I did not deny, and suspected
also to be a priest in Roman orders, I was placed in
Newgate prison. I am to be brought finally to trial on
the 5th December. What then may be about to happen to
me, my Lord Jesus Christ knows, with Whom I am pre
pared to go to the Cross and to death, if He, in His
mercy, will deign so far as to accept the sacrifice of such
and so great a sinner. But if I am necessary to His
people, I do not refuse labour; the will of our Lord be
done. I have long asked to die for Christ. This I desire.
My sinful life has long been hateful to me. Forgive me,
I know what is profitable to me. To die is gain. I
supplicate your prayers and those of the brethren, that if
it should happen to me to die (as I wish to do) I may
depart in the obedience and grace of Christ ; and with St.
Andrew the Apostle, I beg all Christian people not to pre
vent my passion. If I should not be condemned to death,
I will use every lawful means to recover my liberty that
I may obey your orders, as is fitting. May the good and
great God preserve your Reverend Paternity to us always !
" Written from Newgate prison in London, November
22nd, 1643."
On the 7th December, Father Bell was brought before
the Lord Mayor and the other judges who sat on the
bench with him. A long indictment was read to the effect
that, being a born subject of the Queen of England, he had
gone abroad, had studied in the Papistical seminaries, and
had received priests' orders by the authority of the Roman
See, contrary to the statutes of Elizabeth and James, etc.
O

194 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

The judges asked what he had to say in his defence, and
he asked to be confronted with his accusers. They replied
that he should see them on the following day, but that it
was necessary then to plead " guilty " or " not guilty."
He replied, " I do not hold it to be a crime to go abroad,
there to be ordained, and to come back, so I will plead not
guilty." But they said, "Answer the question straight,
what do you plead ? " "I can give no other answer than
I have given to the High Commissioners," he replied.
They then insisted that he should state whether he was
guilty or not, and he said, " If that be your form, I answer
that I am not guilty." He was next asked by whom he
would be judged. Some persons in the crowd suggested,
" By God and your country," and, after a moment's pause,
he said, " By God and my country." The next day, being
the feast of the Immaculate Conception, he was brought
to trial. The witnesses who appeared against him were
notorious apostates. The first, James Wadsworth, was
well known for his treachery. De Marsys^ says that he
was related to a lady at whose house he had himself seen
the martyr, and that no sooner did the wretch hear that a
Catholic, suspected of being a priest, had been taken
prisoner, than he hastened to London, like a wolf upon the
track of his prey. He brought with him three other spies
who all deposed that Father Bell was a priest, but Wads
worth alone declared that he had seen him exercise
his sacerdotal functions in England. According to the
" Certamen," however, he declared thatheknew theprisoner
in Brussels, in the habit of St. Francis, twenty years before,
and that he was esteemed by all as a simple and honest
lay-brother ; but if this is the correct version, the man lied,
for he knew that Father Bell was a priest. The evidence of
Thomas Gage, one of the other accusers, completely broke
down, as he was detected wandering to the evidence
' " Histoire de la Persecution prdsente en Angleterre," p. 129.

VEN. ARTHUR BELL. 195
against another priest who had been acquitted. The next
witness after him was a man named Newton, who carried
in his hands the Breviary and the papers which belonged
to the holy Father, and which he had received from the
Commissioners. But he had not much to say in the way
of evidence, for his acquaintance with Father Bell amounted
to little or nothing. Thomas Mayo could only say that
he knew the prisoner at Gravelines, at the monastery of
Poor Clares, to which place he took a young lady called
Maria Pickford, and at the Franciscan Convent at Douay,
where he lived with Father Valentine, etc.
When the judges asked Father Bell what he had to say
to the depositions of these witnesses, he answered, " They
are infamous persons, whose depositions are not to be
believed." They asked him what objection he had to them ;
upon which he said, " All of them are apostates from the
Catholic religion, and those who have broken their faith
with God cannot justly and ought not to find faith with
men." But they insisted that his objection was not valid,
and asked him if he wished to say anything in hi» defence
to the jury. He declined, but said he hoped that the jury
were Christians, adding, " I am not a priest of the Order
of Levi according to the priesthood of Aaron ; nor would
it be wise, were one called to the priesthood by God, to
neglect the fountain itself and drink from muddy waters.''
The Recorder ^ observed : " You speak mystically.
Have you nothing else to say ? "
He answered : " Nothing. I refer to the answers I gave
at my examination before the Commissioners." They
then handed to him a copy of this examination, which he
approved, declaring that he had nothing more to say.
After this, the jury retired to deliberate, and after a short
time they returned, and their spokesman declared the
' The Latin text is " qui a commentariis erat civitati Londonensi."
Mrs. Hope has translated the term " Registrar." Challoner says
" Recorder," which of course is right.
O 2

196 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
prisoner guilty. Like all his brethren, he could not help
giving expression to his joy and gratitude at this supreme
moment, and with the gentle courtesy which distinguished
them all, he thanked the jury for the favour they had
done him.
The judges told him that his sentence would be deferred
till the opening of the next sessions,^ in order to give him
time to reflect, and they added the following threat : " Mr.
Bell, you will be cut open while you are still alive, and
with your own eyes you will see your entrails burnt ;
therefore renounce the Romish Church, or at least the
priesthood, and avoid this disgraceful and cruel death."
The holy man replied, without the least emotion, "You
can condemn me to a slight and temporary punishment,
but the Protector and Avenger of the innocent can con
demn you to a punishment that will last for ever."
The day having at last arrived, the holy man was again
brought before his judges, and so great was his joy at the
prospect of having sentence of death passed upon him,
that it betrayed itself in his radiant expression and in his
whole bearing. He confessed afterwards to de Marsys,
that when he was standing before his judges, he banished
as far as possible all devout and pious thoughts, and pre
vented himself from dwelling on the favour that God was
bestowing upon him, for fear that in the excess of his joy
he should let fall tears which might be attributed to grief
and terror by his enemies. When told that sentence was
about to be pronounced, he exclaimed in a transport of
joy : " My accusers have borne witness against me, the
jury have found me guilty. I thank them all heartily, for
I am about to die with Christ and His apostles and
martyrs, and my cause is the same as theirs. That which
I am about to say is of as great, or even greater impor
tance than what was spoken by the prophets of old. I
therefore, invoke heaven and earth in their words : ' Be
"^ " Histoire de la Persecution prdsente en Angleterre," p. 129,

VEN. ARTHUR BELL. 197
astonished, ye heavens, and be confounded, O earth, to
behold a nation which professes to believe in Christ and
His Gospel, and yet condemns as treason the priesthood
established by Christ and by that Gospel,' the priesthood,
I say, which the Gospel upholds and by which the Gospel
is upheld. This is the reason why I asked this morning "
whether the jury were Christians, meaning thereby that
Christians might possibly condemn the priesthood of the
Order of Aaron, but not of Christ, and that Jews might
condemn Christians, but not Levitical priests. What you
then called mystical, I will now explain more clearly. If
one of you had a vocation from God to the priesthood,
he would seek for the succession which is undoubted and
certain, and which has been uninterrupted from the time
of Christ, namely that in Rome, and not for that which
is not merely doubtful, but which without any doubt is
certainly defective, as is the case with the Protestant suc
cession. For it is certain, that in the Protestant Church
there is no true priesthood."
They heard him patiently to the end without interrupt
ing him. But when he had finished, someone objected,"*
" We must obey the laws under which we were born, and
under which you confess that you were born."
The martyr replied : " I acknowledge that generally
this is true ; and had I been born among heathen, and
in a heathen country, I certainly would obey those laws
which were not against the laws of God. You know
' It will be seen that there is a discrepancy here in the account
given by the two principal authorities for the life of this martyr.
According to Father Mason, he was brought up to receive sentence on
the afternoon of the day on which the jury had given their verdict.
De Marsys infers that several days elapsed between the verdict and the
sentence. If the martyrdom took place on the nth December, as
generally supposed, Father Mason's account must be the correct one.
* The Latin text is obscure. The " Certamen " has it " donee subje
cerit Cinclidarius," which Challoner translates " one of the bench."
Mrs. Hope, " Franciscan Martyrs in England," p. 208, says " one of
them remarked," etc. The term is not found in Du Cange's Glossary,
or in any of the Lexicons which we have consulted. Challoner pro
bably takes it as a misprint for a fabricated word, Syndicarius.

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

certainly, that those who made these laws have un
doubtedly and irrevocably met with the judgment that
they deserved ; wherefore let those who now are, or who
may hereafter be appointed to carry them into execution,
look prudently and in time to themselves, and examine
their conscience." After having spoken thus, he was silent
When they asked whether he had anything more to say,
he answered : " Nothing further, except that I commit
myself into your hands." He was then seized and his
hands were tied for him to receive sentence of death, which,
in other places, it was not usual to do with priests.
Meanwhile, Serjeant Greene made a long speech, exhort
ing him, as the fitting preparation for death, to practise
obedience, and all other necessary virtues, and to place all
his faith and hope in Christ's merits and not in his own ;
and finally, he promised that if he wished to conform to
the State religion, as that was not his business, he would
send him learned theologians for further discussion and his
greater satisfaction. Father Bell wished to answer, but was
not allowed to do so. Sentence of death was then passed on
him, and he was informed that he would die within three
days' time. Some say that when sentence was pronounced,
he said, with a clear voice, " Te Deum Laudamus," then turn
ing to the judges, he thanked them warmly as.the authors of
his happiness, rather than his punishment. The judges
either felt, or affected to feel great sorrow that they had not
been able to induce him to set a good example of obedience
to the laws, and they warned him of the torments to which
he was hastening, unless he would repent. The martyr is
said to have answered, " I beseech God of His infinite
mercy to grant that there be not in store for you, in another
world, greater torments than those which await me in
this." Then it is reported that, turning to the people,
he addressed a few words to them, assuring them that
except in the Catholic Church there was no salvation,
and that he did not deem himself unhappy, but on the

VEN. ARTHUR BELL. 199
contrary most blessed, in dying for having taught this
holy doctrine, for which, had he a thousand lives he was
ready to lay them all down successively. After having
made several other acts of constancy and faith, he was,
says de Marsys, taken back to prison, where crowds of
Catholics flocked to do him honour, testifying to his
wonderful sanctity. The entire family of the Count
d'Harcourt, the French ambassador, as well as the
Spanish ambassador and his suite, visited him during the
interval between his condemnation and martyrdom, so
that, adds the chronicler, if a general peace had depended on
them, and Father Bell had been the umpire, it would indubit
ably have been concluded. The representatives of the two
great rival nations embraced and deplored the miserable
state of Europe, regretting that all the Catholic blood
that was spilt without advancing the glory of God, was
not employed in re-establishing the Church in England,
and in avenging the quarrel of her servants.
Each vied with the others in expressions of affection to
wards the martyr, in petitioning him for his blessing, and
in begging for the pictures which he distributed among
them.^ He wrote the name of the recipient at the bottom
of each, adding these words, " Pray for Francis Bell, and
I will pray for you." His cell being crowded with persons
of all nationalities, he spoke to some in French, to others
in Spanish, Flemish, or Latin, as the case required, with
the most perfect self-command and humility, and to the
great satisfaction of all. When they would have kissed
his hands, or knelt down to receive his blessing, or called
him a martyr, he said : " Nolite me laudare ante jinem, et
spero quod Deus absolvet opus " — " Do not praise me before
the end, and I hope that God will accomplish His work."
* Father Mason says : " During the few remaining days of his life
crowds of Catholics of all nations flocked to receive his blessing, or
some little scrap of his dress, as relics, or some picture or image
hallowed by his handwriting, or to kiss his feet. Many were moved
to tears by his words and manner."

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

His meaning was, that if they praised him the enemy of
mankind might, by inciting him to pride, snatch from his
hands the palm of which he thought himself assured. In
this manner passed the Saturday before his execution. On
Sunday, as soon as it was light, the prison was again filled
with crowds of devout Catholics, who came to hear Father
Bell's Mass, and to receive Communion from his hand.
" When we entered his room," relates M. de Marsys, " he
received us with a smiling face, and exclaimed, ' Well,
gentlemen, this is the last day ; I assure you that the
nearer I approach to my end, the more do joy and grace
increase in me, and there is no happiness on earth, that I
would exchange for mine.' "
Nevertheless, the French ambassador was exerting him
self to obtain P'ather Bell's release, by offering to spare the
lives of three wretches who had robbed him. When this
news was communicated to the martyr, he was very much
cast down. Father Charles Marchant, Priorof St Magdalen,
and chaplain to the Count d'Harcourt, who was warmly
attached to the holy Franciscan, came to see him, and
told him that he also was trying hard to obtain his pardon,
using the F'rench word "grace" to express his meaning.
F'ather Bell, however, when it was made clear to him that
not heavenly grace, but an earthly respite from suffering
was meant, exclaimed : " Alas ! do you think it a grace, to
deprive me of the crown I have so long desired .-' Hither
to, I have thought that you were my friend, but if you
persevere in your design, I shall no longer regard you as
my friend, but as my greatest enemy. I beseech you also
to dissuade the Count from trying to rob me of this great
happiness. Thank him for his kind intention, and tell him
that I commend myself humbly to his prayers." He also
repeated continually : " I entreat you not to prevent my
passion. I conjure you not to oppose my death, which is
my greatest happiness. But whatever you may attempt,
I shall pray the most Holy Mother of God, and St.

VEN. ARTHUR BELL. 201
Andrew, that no one may snatch from me the Cross which
I see before me."
The martyr's prayers had more power with God, than
all the efforts of his friends, to change the decree of the
judges. It would moreover have been inappropriate, as de
Marsys remarks, that blood so innocent should have been
exchanged for that of the vile criminals condemned to
death. When Barabbas was let go, Christ was bound, and
no one suggested that His Blood should be bought by the
ransom of the two thieves.
In the course of that day many ministers came to argue
with Father Bell ; four were especially sent by the Parlia
ment, as being more learned than the others. They had a
discussion with him, chiefly on the reality of the Body of
our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, on Predestination, and
on other questions disputed between Catholics and heretics,
and he spoke with such power and clearness, that they
could not resist the spirit with which he carried on the
argument. They became the laughing-stock even of the
Protestants who stood around, and at last they retired
discomfited. Thus the day wore on, and there was no relief or
privacy for the martyr, for the people came to visit him in
ever-increasing numbers, but he showed no sign of weari
ness or impatience at their importunity, giving gentle
words and good counsel to each new-comer. Towards
evening, however, he expressed himself glad of being able
to prepare himself without interruption for the great act of
the following day, and he passed the whole night in medi
tation and prayer. Very early on Monday morning, he
said Mass in the presence of several Catholics. At last,
the hour having come when he was to be led to the scaffold,
he laid himself on the hurdle, and was drawn by four
horses through the mire and over the stones to Tyburn.
As he approached the place of execution, he exclaimed
very joyfully, " Now I see verified in me what was promised

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

me by happy Thomas Bullaker ! He then got into the
cart, in which the robbers and others who were about to be
hanged, were conveyed to the gallows. The sheriff, who
treated him very humanely, gave him leave to speak, and
he addressed the crowd in the following terms : —
" Dear countrymen, give ear to me, and as you desire to
be delivered from your present miseries, put an end to
your sins ; for, without all doubt, your enormous crimes
are the cause of the calamities under which you groan.
But above all, I exhort you, to renounce heresy, in which
you have been so long engaged : for this (with grief I
speak it) has cut you off like putrid members from the true
body of Christ, and like dead branches from the tree of
His Church. But if you resolve to persist in loving dark
ness more than light, long afflictions will attend you : and
certainly, many calamities and miseries threaten this city,
and the whole kingdom, unless they desist from persecuting
priests and Catholics. See and consider, I beseech you,
the afflictions with which God has begun visibly to punish
you ; and be assured that all these punishments are tokens
of His love, and a manifest testimony that He would not
destroy you, but as it were by constraint I repeat, all
these chastisements, civil wars and calamities are inflicted
upon you by Him to the end, that He may at length,
from shipwreck, bring you into the haven of the Catholic
Church. Abuse then no longer His goodness and mercy ;
do not force Him to destroy you, by continuing to
provoke His divine justice, by obstinacy in your evil
course." The account given by Father Mason of the martyr's
address to the people ends here ; the rest is added by
de Marsys," in his " Histoire de la Persecution presente."
" Challoner does not seem to have known of the existence of this
book. His account of the address ends with the narrative in the
"Certamen Seraphicum." Mrs. Hope joins both accounts into one,
and does not mention the fact that the second half is by a different
authority.

VEN. ARTHUR BELL. 203
" I have been brought here," writes the French
chronicler, translating Father Bell's own words carefully
{mot a mot) from the English, " to be put to death, the
cause of which proceeding I will declare to you. I am
not even accused of any crime, but have been condemned
for being a priest of the Catholic Church. If I were some
Pagan priest, I should not so much wonder at being
put to death in a Christian country ; but that a Catholic
priest should be put to death by those who profess to
be Christians, and to follow Jesus Christ and His Gospel,
ought to surprise every reasonable person. Those may
be expected to act as they have done, who are blind and
of a corrupt judgment. They say that they have laws,
but as these laws have been made iniquitously, so also
have they been executed with iniquity. I declare before
you all, and I sign my declaration with my blood before
God and His Son Jesus Christ, who is to judge us, that
I die a true member of the Catholic Church."
" Here," says de Marsys, " being interrupted by a
heretic, who put in, ' You mean to say the Roman
Church,' he replied, ' If you wish me to distinguish it,
I will with all my heart distinguish it from every sort
of heresy, and call it the Roman Church. My parents
lived and died in this religion ; they brought me up in
the same faith, and if I- had to live longer, I would pro
fess it to the last moment of my life, even' though I
had to suffer a thousand deaths and the greatest torments
one can imagine.' "
The sheriff interrupting him, said : " Mr. Bell, we will
not hear you any longer declaim against our laws, and
give wrong impressions to our people. You yourself
know that you are going to die for having seduced the
King's subjects." To which the martyr replied, " I see
a great multitude around me and I suppose they have
been seduced like the rest of the kingdom ; therefore I
believe I am doing them good service, in trying to lead

204 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

them back into the right road. The fact that they have
a part of the Catholic faith misleads them. They believe
in the Incarnation of Jesus Christ, in His Passion and
Resurrection, but it is not enough, and this is why I
wish to declare the whole truth to them for the good
of their souls." Then a voice arose out of the crowd,
saying, "Help yourself! help yourself I " and the martyr
replied, " Those who are hardened in false doctrine will
not listen to any other, but I tell you that the Pro
testant religion is not of divine faith." "Do not abuse
the Protestant religion," interrupted the sheriff, and
Father Bell, not wishing to waste the short time that
remained to him in preaching to stocks and stones,
finished his discourse with these words, worthy of a
true martyr: "I forgive with my whole heart those
who have contributed to my death, even as I desire
to be forgiven, and I die joyfully for so glorious a
cause." These last words touched all hearts not utterly
hardened, and especially that of a parliamentary
officer, who was about to suffer death for stealing.
With tears in his eyes he turned towards Father Bell,
saying, " I wish to die in your religion." It was observed
that the martyr spoke to him for some time in a whisper,
and it was thought that he was suggesting acts of con
trition to him and giving him absolution.
The Protestant ministers, seeing what was going on,
tried to interrupt them, but the new convert turning
towards them, said, as if fired with the zeal and charity
which shone so brightly in Father Bell's whole person,
"Do with me what you will, I die a Catholic, and I
am ready to suffer all things in defence of the faith
that God has given me grace to profess at the last
moment, and I hope that I shall soon be in Paradise
with Father Bell, if it please God to forgive me my
sins."

VEN ARTHUR BELL. 205
Father Bell then said to the executioner in a tone of
affection, " Alas, my brother, I am filled with grief, not
to witness your conversion from heresy before I die.
Behold the example of this good thief, which certainly
ought to move you, and make you look into your own
heart. Consider his happiness and strive to imitate
him. I again entreat you to give me the great joy and
consolation of regarding you in death as my brother
rather than my executioner."
The sheriffs officers being now in great fear as to the
effect his words seemed to have upon the people, ordered
the sentence to be carried out at once.
As the cart was drawn away, Father Bell raised his
hands, and the Prior of St. Magdalen gave him absolu
tion. He was allowed to hang for about the space of
a 'Miserere} then he was cut down alive, and being
stripped, his Franciscan habit was discovered beneath
his secular dress, with his cowl and cord which he always
wore next his skin.
The bystanders exclaimed with admiration, on seeing
this, " What men are these who thus despise all earthly
comforts ! " De Marsys says he wore " a little habit of
St. Francis all the time he worked on the English mission
instead of a shirt."
His heart and intestines were thrown into the fire,
his head was cut off and his body quartered, the
quarters being afterwards fixed on the four gates of the
City. Nevertheless, devout Catholics among the crowd
contrived to secure some of the holy relics. The Prior of
St. Magdalen bought a quantity which he gave to the
Queen Regent of France and to the Queen of England
and to other ladies of high rank, who, at the time de
Marsys wrote, still treasured them as their most valued
possessions. Members of the families of Count Egmont and the
' " Certamen Seraphicum."

2o6 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
Count d'Harcourt also received a portion, and two of the
relics of considerable size soon afterwards found their way
to the nuns of the Third Order of St. Francis, then
settled at Nieuport, who cherish and venerate them to this
day. In concluding the life of Father Bell, Father Angelus
Mason remarks : —
"It is reported that certain miracles havebeen wrought
by the merits of this holy martyr, but since I have not
as yet received any confirmation of them, I do not insert
them here. I also pass over much that might have been
narrated in this life, as it has not yet reached me. The
chief portion of what I have here recorded, in addition to
what I have copied from the autograph, is derived from a
French book on the life of this saint, written by the Rev.
F. Dubosque, Licentiate in Theology, and Preacher to the
King, who obtained all that he has reported from the
evidence of an eye-witness, a man worthy of all accept
ance."* To this, we may add the portrait of the martyr sketched
by de Marsys in a few rough but telling strokes, at the
end of his biographical notice.
" I have not been able to ascertain anyparticulars concern
ing the Hfe of this blessed man, but I have good authority
for stating that it was one of eminent sanctity, for Francis
du Mont, a native of Boulogne sur mer, who has for a long
time lived in England, and who is an intimate friend of
mine, has told me that while he resided in the house of an
illustrious and very virtuous lady, in the capacity of tutor to
her children. Father Bell was alsoher guest Francis du Mont
had thus ample scope for observing the martyr, without
being seen, and he has told me that he]often saw Father Bell,
' This very important summing up is passed over both by Challoner
and Mrs. Hope. It would be interesting to discover the precious
volume by Father Dubosque (or Du Bosc). All trace of it seems to
have disappeared.

VEN. ARTHUR BELL. 207

with extended arms, absorbed in prayer, and that he would
remain thus, for two and three hours together, several times
a day. He also remarked that Father Bell was abstemious
to the verge of singularity ; and as it is the, custom in this
country, even among persons of rank, among ecclesiastics,
and also among very virtuous women, to frequent ale
houses, it would be considered extremely uncivil to decline
an invitation to such a place. Imagining from Father Bell's
habitual gravity of demeanour, that he was of a melan
choly disposition. Monsieur du Mont would sometimes
induce him to go with him to an ale-house ; but the holy
man had no sooner fulfilled the requirements of politeness,
by drinking one or two glasses of wine to the health of
the company, than he would return to his devotions. The
necessity of concealing his priesthood was, we may easily
conceive, the sole motive for the saint's condescension in
this matter.
" Several persons have assured me that he was exceed
ingly devout to the Blessed Virgin, a fact which is suffi
ciently illustrated by three circumstances — his taking the
habit of St. Francis on the feast of the Immaculate Con
ception, his return to England on that day, and his being
crowned with martyrdom on the same feast. I must add,
that Monsieur Langlois, Preacher to the Count d'Harcourt,
who had the honour to converse with the martyr two days
before his death, and to whom it had been given to sound
the most secret depths of his soul, declares that he recog
nized in him all the marks of perfect sanctity, of a mind
long detached from all material things. I pray God that
his example and his prayers may sow in us some seeds of
holiness. " A little book, treating of the death of this glorious
martyr, and written by one of his brethren in religion,
the Rev. F. du Bosc, who is numbered among the best
authors of our century, may be read with profit by all who
are interested in the subject. I should not have pre-

2o8 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
sumed to go over the same ground, had I not desired to
make my history as complete as possible. Moreover,
being an eye-witness, and understanding the English
tongue, certain circumstances came to my knowledge
which were unknown to Father du Bosc."

ClIAl'TI'R X.
¦I'lll'; VEN, JOHN W<K)l)COCICI';, VEN. JOHN WALL,
VKN. (:ilM<Lp;S MAIIONV, I'ATIII'IR PAUL ATKINSON,
1603—1729.
(!iiAi<i,i:s I. had not proved himself so staunch a friend to
his (Catholic subjects, that they should owe him a very
heavy debt of f^fratiliule. He had betrayed their dearest
inlere.sts, just as he had belray(;<l the nation at large, and
he would have had litth: cause for complaint had they for
saken him in his misfortunes. Hut if Charles was an un
trustworthy ally, tlic Parliament w;is ;i deadly enemy, and
a„s1iH: Civil War ])roce()il(:cl, and the cry ;^;;iin.sf "popery"
bec.iine ever more ijjtlerly (an.alical, il was clear that not
only loyally, but necessity, bound them to his cause. They
knew by ex|)cri(:iice that, if it should suit his jinrposc, he
would sacrifice Hum again, as he had saci'ificed them
before ; but they had no choice, except to fall into the
hands of tiiose who, in sec;king to exterminate them out of
the land, tliouglit they were doing (iod a service.
It is only fair to exonerate the tenders of the Parlia
mentary ])arty from llie bloodlhirst of the zealots, who
formed the bulk of the I're.sbyterian army.
It is Inic lliey gratified them with the execution of a
piicst now and then, hut it has been estimated th.it during
the whole course of the war, the numbir of priests who
suffered death on the scaffold amounted on an average to
but three for each year, a fact difficult to reconcile with the
I'

210 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
sanguinary instinct of the Presbyterians, until we discrimi
nate between the inflammatory words and the compara
tively tardy actions of those in command.' While for
political purposes they pandered to the fanaticism of the
Puritans by opprobrious epithets directed against Catholics,
thus adding fuel to the already glowing furnace, they were
themselves far more greedy for the goods of the Catholic
laity, than for the blood of Catholic priests. Absolutely
no protection was afforded to property belonging to
papists. The following letter written by Nehcmiah
Wharton, to his late master and much honoured friend, at
the Golden Anchor in St. Swithin's Lane, London, gives a
very good notion of the state of affairs. It describes the
march of the sixth company of that portion of the Parlia
ment's forces, formed by the volunteers of the metropolis,
previous to the amalgamation with the rest of the troops
under the Earl of Essex : —
"On the 8th August (1642) we marched to action, and
being belated, were constrained to lodge on beds, whose
feathers were above a yard long. The next day, Tuesday,
several of our soldiers sallied out of the house of one
Penruddock, a papist, and being basely affronted by him
and his dog, entered his house and pillaged him to the
purpose. This day also, the soldiers got into the church,
defaced the ancient and sacred glazed pictures, and burned
the holy rails. Wednesday, Mr. Love gave us a famous
sermon ; this day also the soldiers brought the holy
rails from Chiswick, and burned them in our town. . . .
Every day our soldiers by stealth do visit papists' houses,
and constrain from them both meat and money. They
give them whole great loaves and cheeses, which they
carry away triumphantly upon the points of their
swords." ^
At the beginning of the persecution it was the rulers of
' Lingard, vol. x. p. 126
"^ Dom. Charles I. 1641-43, I'.R.O.

VEN. JOHN WOODCOCKE.

the land who set on foot the work of devastation. In his
arrogance and lust of power, Henry VIII. sacrificed the
welfare, spiritual and temporal, of his subjects ; and of all
his evil works, perhaps the worst was that by which was
wrought the gradual perversion of the mind of the nation.
In 1543 the country was still Catholic ; in 1643 it was
not only Protestant, but wildly and fanatically anti-Catholic.
In the sixteenth century the Heads of the State persecuted
the Church ; in the seventeenth, the people were in full
possession of the persecuting spirit which Henry had raised,
and their rulers were powerless to lay it. A century of
revolution, begun with a king's act of defiance hurled at
the highest spiritual authority on earth, was ending with a
people's renunciation of all kingly authority. Henry had
his heel well planted on the necks of the people, but the
second Stuart was led by the sovereign people to the
scaffold. And all this and more was the natural process
and development of the revolution, which, under the guise
of " new learning," the " Reformation," and other delusive
terms, had emptied the Universities, and raised up such
apostles as Prynne, Bastwick, and Burton. The powerful
invectives of these vituperative pamphleteers were en
tirely to the taste of the masses, and the more they in
dulged their "eternal itch of scribbling," the better pleased
were the Puritans, who delighted equally in dissertations on
the sinfulness of curls or " love-locks," on the keeping of
the Sabbath (the Jewish Sabbath, not the Christian Sunday
which they abhorred as an invention of the Popes), or on
the ever-fresh and perennial subject of popery. No wonder
that the better educated and finer intellects in the Church
of England looked imploringly towards Rome ; it was a
necessary recoil from a barren and unlovely system, which
found its chief expression in abusive epithets and de
nunciations. In 1644 another Franciscan was captured by the
vigilant pursuivants, but was allowed by the Parliament to
P 2

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

lie in prison for two years before he was brought to trial,
the war against Charles being then at its height, and the
machinery of the courts of justice out of gear. The
prisoner was John, in religion Father Martin of St. Felix
Woodcocke. He was born at Leyland in the last year of
the reign of Elizabeth. His father was a Protestant ; his
mother, who was a pious woman, belonged to a good
Catholic family of the middle class, named Anderton, of
Clayton, near Preston, in Lancashire. The boy was
brought up in his grandfather's house till he was nearly
twenty, when he became a Catholic, to the great dis
pleasure of his father, who treated him very cruelly in con
sequence. At last, in spite of all prohibition, he crossed over
with others to St. Omers, under the care of Father Edward
Squire, a Jesuit.* After studying for one year, at the
college of the Jesuit Fathers in that place, he proceeded to
the English College at Rome, in order to study Philosophy
and Theology. Here he remained for about six months,
when he began to feel himself irresistibly drawn towards a
penitential life. He left Rome and went to Paris, where
he applied for admission among the Capuchins, in the
Faubourg St. Jacques, and was received as a novice on the
1 6th May, 1630. Dr. Oliver says,* that he saw a letter
written by John Woodcocke, and dated 28th September,
1 630, to Father Thomas Fitzherbert, S. J., at Rome, thanking
the latter for the many civilities he had received from him,
and telling him that he has worn the habit, he thanks
" sweet Jesus, almost now a quarter of the year." Neverthe
less, his vocation was not to the Capuchins, for in the midst
of his joy at wearing the habit of St Francis, without any
fault of his own, and in the most unexpected manner, he
was sent away.. The blow was so sudden, and the disap
pointment so keenly felt, that he at first refused to depart.

Diary of the English College at Rome.
" Collections," p. 563.

VEN. JOHN WOODCOCKE. 213
and could not be persuaded to give up his beloved habit,
which had to be taken from him by force. The reasons
for his dismissal were written by himself to a friend at
Douay, and were preserved in the archives of the college of
St. Bonaventure, together with corroborative statements,
contained in a letter addressed to Fathers of the Society
at Rome.
In the first place, a very intelligible double mistake
had arisen from the circumstance that the Father-General
of the Jesuits had told Father Woodcocke that there was
an English Capuchin convent in France, whereas he had
very naturally confused the term English, with English-
speaking, for the only religious community that might
come under such a denomination was not English but
Irish, and their convent was not at Paris, as was supposed,
but at Charleville.
The suspicions thus aroused by the French Capuchins
as to the novice's veracity, were aggravated by the fact
of their receiving no answer to the letters of inquiry they
had written to Father Woodcocke's mother, and other
friends in England. It was important for them to know
that his desire to enter religion was not prompted by any
extreme and urgent need, or by any unworthy motives
whatsoever, and they had remained unsatisfied on this
point In the second place, they objected that his mother and
an elder brother (still a Protestant) were opposed to his
adopting a religious life, that they were desirous he should
be ordained priest and should return to England at once,
and it was feared that the importunities of these relatives
might have too much weight with him, later on. A
further reason for their determination to send him away
was, that their rule did not allow them to admit to pro
fession any person born of heretic parents, or who had
himself been a heretic and brought up among such,
although, strictly speaking, this rule applied only to

2 14 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
those individuals whose ancestors had suffered for heresy
at the stake. Added to these, were the minor con
siderations of his unsatisfactory health, the difficulty he
experienced in learning French, and the affection he
manifested towards the Jesuit Fathers in Rome, his
countrymen. Father Woodcocke himself admitted that his health was
not good and that he was slow in learning to speak
French, but Father Angelus Mason considered that it
was only fair to print the above reasons, and concludes
that Father Woodcocke was "unjustly dismissed."*
Nevertheless, God made use of the injustice of man to
work out His own designs, for if Father Woodcocke had
remained with the Capuchins, he could never have
attained to the martyr's crown, the)^ having at that
time no mission in England, so that what was to him
a source of grief and suffering at first, was ultimately
the very means by which he was to ensure his happiness
and reward.
Meanwhile, however, no small part of his trial was
the cloud of dejection which settled upon him, while his
desire to enter the Order rather increased than abated.
When this cloud was lifted, being still convinced that
he had a vocation to the Franciscan Order, he went to
Douay, and applied to the Guardian for admission into
the college of St Bonaventure. But he had no sooner
done this, than he began to be assailed by a temptation,
in the form of a doubt as to whether in desiring to
become a Franciscan, he was influenced by the pure
and simple love of God, which ought to be his sole
motive. Another temptation was the fear that his father's
having been a Protestant might prove an impediment with
the English Franciscans ; it had in part caused his rejection
by the Capuchins, and he came to the conclusion that he
was not fitted for so severe an order. He was also, about
'' " Certamen Seraphicum," pp. 164, 165.

VEN. JOHN WOODCOCKE. 215

this time, possessed with an inordinate desire to continue
his studies, receive ordination, and be appointed to a
mission, dreading that if he made a further trial of
religious life and failed, his condition would be a terrible
one, for he had given up his inheritance when about to
enter religion, and, not being a priest, he would have no
means of supporting himself.
This account of his temptations was written to the
same friend who had received his confidences at the time
of his leaving the Capuchins, and Father Mason copied
the manuscript written in Father Woodcocke's own hand,
so that his version is of the highest possible authority.
But Father Luke Wadding had put these difficulties before
the young student when they parted in Rome, " in the
church of the Augustinians a little before Whitsuntide,
during the public disputations, which were taking place
at that time." Moreover, Father Woodcocke earnestly
assured Father Francis of St. Clare, Commissary-Pro
vincial of the English Province, that Father Wadding
had promised to receive him into the Irish College, and
the remembrance of this promise, added to his other
temptations, made him decide to withdraw his application
to the English Friars, and he returned to Rome. Here,
however, he met with no success. For some reason,
which does not transpire, he was not received into the
Irish College, and remained for some time a prey to
conflicting emotions, always animated with a desire for
high things, but restless and incapable of attaining to
the object of his aspirations. " Thus," says Father Mason,
"was he tossed about on all sides and found rest no
where, until, after having escaped from many dangers,
and having overcome many difficulties, he fell back upon
his original design, and returned to the place which in
the first instance had been marked out for him by God."
He had by this time fully convinced himself that he had
committed a two-fold error, first in going to the Capu-

ji6 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

chins, and then in having left Douay so hastily. It was
now clear to him that he was well able to bear the
austerities, and one of the reasons he pleaded in favour
of his being admitted among the Franciscans of Douay,
was the opinion expressed in various Capuchin convents,
in which he had been a guest, that the monks thought
him well fitted for the rule, and were surprised at his
having been sent away. In again knocking, as it were,
at the convent gate at Douay, he laid stress on his first
attraction to that house, on the occasion of his friend
Father William Anderton's being admitted into it.
Courage failing him to make a formal application to
the Superiors on account of his previous conduct, he
wrote the following letter to his friend : —
" Reverend Father, — Do not scorn to listen to the
prayers of one so unworthy, seeing that Almighty God
has raised you to a sublime height ; but condescend to
the humble petition of one who is a great lover of your
Order, and who, although he once erred through weakness
of body as well as of mind, and through a fear not wholly
reprehensible, yet has since reflected on his former mis
conduct and the displeasure of your venerated Superior.
Being recalled to a better hope, and having regained
strength of body and mind, he is determined no longer to
neglect what is of such great moment, but to comply with
his original vocation rather than remain any longer
exposed to the fluctuating waves and storms of the world.
The more conscious I am, that it is better to be poor in
the house of our Lord, than to dwell in the tabernacles
of sinners, so much the stronger grows my resolution,
increasing within my soul night and day, although still
without fruit. Moreover, my conscience, disturbed in spite
of myself out of its original tranquillity, incessantly
solicits and urges me on, so that my soul is agitated with
longing to be rehabilitated after that sudden fall, which
threw it, together with my whole being, into confusion.

VEN. JOHN WOODCOCKE. 217
Wherefore, my dear Father W^illiam, I beseech you, by
our old friendship which in this misfortune intercedes for
me with you, and, still more, by the tender love of our
Lord Jesus Christ, to take pity on my miserable state, and
exert yourself to obtain my pardon, and the favour of my
restoration. This is my desire ; this I ask, this I wait
for ; for this I sigh and groan ; and I desire it for no other
motive than for the pure love of God and His glory.
Farewell. That which formerly you saw me desire lightly,
strive now, for Christ's sake, to obtain for me more effica
ciously. It will be a great happiness to me and nothing
whatsoever can more content me. Again farewell."
This letter did not fail to touch the Superiors of St.
Bonaventure, and through the intercession of Father
Anderton, the humble suppliant was received into the
novitiate. He was clothed with the habit and cord of St.
Francis by the future martyr Father Heath, in the year
163 1, and took the name Martin of St. Felix.
Nothing could exceed the gratitude of the new religious.
If humiliations are necessary to success in the fight for
humility. Father Woodcocke had thoroughly earned the
virtue for which he became so remarkable, and he was
now to reap the reward of all that he had undergone. In
strict observance of the rule, in mortifications and the
careful performance of his duties, he excelled all his com
panions, while his wonderful gift of prayer brought him
into close communion with God and His angels. So
admirable was his conduct, that when the time of proba
tion had expired, he was admitted to make his profession
by the votes of the whole community. This took place
in the year 1632, in the twenty-ninth year of his age. He
had the special privilege of making his vows to the
martyr Father Francis Bell. Two years later he was
ordained priest, and received faculties for preaching and
for hearing the confessions of people living in the world.
The Convent Register shows that he was appointed to

2i8 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

succeed Father Daniel Yates (nth November, 1638), as
confessor to the English nuns of St. Elizabeth's Convent at
Nieuport, an office which he filled till the fourth General
Chapter held in London on the 19th April, 1640. He then
went to Arras, in Artois, as chaplain and confessor to Mr'
Sheldon, in whose house he remained for some time.
The next cross in store for him had been already fore
shadowed in his previous trials ; his health broke down
completely, the result perhaps of his extraordinary exer
tions in his apostolic labours, and it was even suggested
that he was suffering from a mortal disease. This necessi
tated his return to Douay, and a complete cessation of
work, a trial which he sanctified by increased fervour in
prayer and perfect submission to the will of God.
On Trinity Sunday, 1643, the Friars of Douay held a
solemn service of thanksgiving in their church, for the
glorious martyrdom of Father Heath. A sermon was
preached on the occasion by a Capuchin," whose words of
burning eloquence roused in Father Woodcocke an intense
longing to follow in the martyr's footsteps. From that
moment, nothing but the hope of martyrdom had the
least attraction for him ; it became the subject of all his
thoughts, his aspirations, his prayers. He wrote to the
English Provincial, Father George of St. William, asking
leave to join him ; but he received no answer to his appeal,
for either the letter never reached its destination, or the
Provincial decided that he could not be spared. Then he
had recourse to the Commissary-General Father Peter
Marchant, not liking to petition Father Angelus Mason the
Commissary-Provincial, who was also Superior of St.
Bonaventure, knowing how deeply he had at heart the
interests of the college, and how unwilling he would be to
lose any of its members. Meanwhile however, the state
of Father Woodcocke's health caused such uneasiness, that
he was ordered to try the waters of Spa, and here, in the
^ According to some authorities, a Jesuit.

VEN. JOHN WOODCOCKE. 219
designs of Providence, he met Father Marchant, and found
courage to open his heart to him. The result was a
favourable answer, on condition that he could gain the
consent of his immediate Superior Father Angelus Mason.
To him, therefore. Father Woodcocke wrote a letter, of
which the following is the substance : —
" Reverend Father, — Since Trinity Sunday, which I
doubt not your reverence remembers, I have written three
letters to our Provincial in England, asking leave to
return thither. I also wrote to the Commissary-General,
and now that I can speak to him face to face, confiding
in your wonted kindness, I have obtained his written con
sent to my desire, but under the condition, as he told me,
that you should confirm it. He put his seal to the paper,
and gave it back to me open, that I might have the better
opportunity to read it and countersign it, which I did,
when I brought it here yesterday evening. But now, on
more mature deliberation, I dare not send it to you, lest
it should meet with some misfortune on the way, when I
should be obliged to begin the whole affair over again.
Hoping that you will trust my good faith, especially in
such a matter, in which I could not lie, I have thought it
better to inform you of it by these simple lines, and to
ask for your consent in your next letter, which I beseech
you, by the tender love of the most sweet Jesus, to send
without delay. I can indeed express to your reverence the
same motives which I have twice already laid before my
above-mentioned Superiors, in a style I confess inadequate
to the subject. But I hope that it is not necessary. Your
reverence knows me better than they do ; nor have I less
confidence in you, than in them. However, I confess that
rather than not succeed in my desired object, I am ready,
if you wish to try me, to repeat to you the same reasons
which I gave to them, though I spoke to them with less
importunity, but modestly, and with less persuasive reason-

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

ing. Reverend Father, the season admits of no delay;
winter approaches, and my health, through this anxiety
and even others that are greater, is not strengthened and
confirmed as your reverence and even myself could expect.
Wherefore, for the love of God (kneeling now in my cell)
I ask you on my knees, to say Amen, and to send me
your consent as soon as possible. The paper, which I
keep for its greater security, I will give or send to you
when and where you choose.
"Meanwhile, offering my humble, obedient and unfeigned
love and service, I remain, confiding in you, ever yours,
" Brother Martin of St. Felix."
This petition, backed by a letter from Father Marchant,
brought the so ardently longed-for permission, and did
more for Father Woodcocke's restoration to health than
all the waters of Spa. He hurried home to prepare for
his departure, and received the news that a few days
before Father Bell had nobly vindicated his priesthood on
the scaffold.
Those who have followed thus far the history of the
Franciscan martyrs, seeing the stuff of which they were
made, will be prepared for the fresh infusion of the spirit
of self-sacrifice which animated Father Woodcocke on
hearing of P'ather Bell's death. Thirsting to be united to
him through the like sufferings, he set out about the
end of the year 1643, and after some perils landed at
Newcastle-on-Tyne, with the intention of passing into
Lancashire. He had thought of spending a short time
in his native county, in the hope of converting some ot
his relations, but he was arrested the night after his
arrival, and committed by a magistrate to Lancaster
gaol. Here, as we have already pointed out, he was left for
two years before he was brought to trial, the Civil War
being at its height at the time of his return to England.

VEN. JOHN WOODCOCKE.

During this time he was far from idle. To the great
edification of the Catholics, and the wonderment of their
enemies, he took upon himself the duties of a missioner
among his fellow-prisoners, and they could not but
profit by his example, his vigils, his long and fervent
prayers, his zeal in instructing them, and in administering
the Sacraments to those among them who were Catholics.
He suffered meanwhile extremely from the wicked con
versation of some, from the filth of his prison, and from
the horrible stench which exuded from it For his food
he depended entirely upon the good pleasure of his
gaolers, for charitable Catholics who might have come
to his relief, were either under arms or in hiding, and
the few who were at hand, were too much terrified to
draw upon themselves the thunders of the law by dis
tributing alms to a priest in gaol. That he survived
through his long imprisonment was a marvel to all, but
great as were his physical sufferings, they were as nothing
compared with his insatiable thirst for martyrdom. His
friend, Father William Anderton, then on the English
mission, went to see him and wrote to Father Mason from
Lancaster, that during the whole term of his imprison
ment, he evinced the most ardent desire to suffer, de
claring constantly that it was chiefly the hope of martyr
dom that had drawn him to England.
The war having ended in favour of the Parliament, the
enemies of the Church were at liberty to carry on the
persecution. The judges resumed their circuits, and on
their arrival at Lancaster, Father Woodcocke and two
secular priests were placed at the bar on the 6th August,
1646, O.S. To the question whether he was a priest, he
replied that he was, and being also asked to what order
he belonged, he said that he was a member of the Order
of the Seraphic St. Francis. He had given ample proof
of his priesthood and religious profession during the two
years of his imprisonment, and the questions were put

222 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

to him merely as a matter of form. The judge con
demned him to death immediately, and the martyr, in
the fulness of his joy, broke out into fervent acts of
thanksgiving, exclaiming, " Praise be to God I God be
thanked ! " and other expressions of intense gratitude.
His last night of captivity and in the prison of the
body, was spent in prayer and meditation, and at day-
dawn, on the 7th August, he was led out to execution,
together with the two secular priests, the Ven. Edward
Bamber and the Ven. Thomas Whitaker.
They were followed by a great crowd shouting and
hooting and loading the martyrs with abuse, their fury
aggravated by Father Woodcocke's calm and happy ex
pression. The Catholics who were present were greatly
edified, and some Protestants, amazed at so much forti
tude and humility, exclaimed that if there ever was a true
martyr in the Roman Church, this was one. After a
short time spent in private devotions. Father Woodcocke
was ordered to mount the ladder. The rope was put
about his neck, and he began to speak to the people
about the cause of his death, but the sheriff ordered him to
be silent, and he was thrown off the ladder. It is said
that the rope broke immediately, and he fell to the
ground. Stunned for a moment by the violence of the
fall, he soon recovered himself, was hanged a second
time, cut down more than half alive, and barbarously
butchered. Credible witnesses affirmed that a very
bigoted Protestant woman, standing by the scaffold,
declared that while the executioner was groping for
his heart, she heard the martyr invoke the name of
Jesus. Among the relics preserved at the Franciscan
convent, Taunton, is an arm-bone of this martyr.
Father Woodcocke was in the forty-fourth year of his
age, the fifteenth of his religious profession, and the
thirteenth of his priesthood. Challoner says, he is known
in some catalogues by the name of Thompson ; he was

VEN. JOHN WOODCOCKE. 223

also called Farrington or Faringdon, the name by which he
would probably have been known on the English mission.
We cannot pretend to describe, even by a brief survey,
the events which separated the death of Father Wood
cocke from that of the last Franciscan martyrs in
England. In 1649, a Protestant people, represented by
a cold-blooded, bold and ambitious faction, brought its
Protestant king to the block, and another reign of terror
began for the English Catholics. Challoner, it is true,
says that he cannot find any priests put to death for
their character between the years 1646 and 1651, but
volumes might be written of the sufferings of Catholics,
in their " minds, bodies, and estates," during these five
years. A few strokes will serve for the outline of a
picture in which there were no subtleties of composition
or colour, all being trenchant, simple, and exceedingly
to the point.
First it was decreed that two- thirds of the real and
personal estates of papists should be forthwith seized, sold
and disposed of, for the uses of the Parliament. A papist
was declared to be any person harbouring any popish
priest, or who had been convicted of recusancy, or who
had been at Mass any time within a year, or whose
children, grandchildren, or any living in the same house,
or brought up under their tuition were papists, and all
such persons who, having come to the age of twenty-one
years, should refuse to abjure and renounce transubstantia-
tion, etc. The collectors and their agents were empowered
to " break open all locks, bolts, bars, doors, or other
strength, where moneys or goods were, upon probable
ground, suspected to be concealed, and seize the same
into their possession ; with the further engagements to such
as were assisting the sequestrators, that for their reward
they were to have one shilling in the pound of all moneys,
lands, or goods they should discover ; and for their
indemnity, the protection of both Houses of Parliament ;

224 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
and to be esteemed as persons who did acceptable service
to the Commonwealth." '
The following examples will serve to illustrate the
manner in which this cruel law was carried out in in
dividual cases : —
Lord Morley's estate had been sequestrated for the
owner's recusancy, and in 165 1 his only son, a boy of
fourteen, petitioned the Parliament for maintenance.
This was refused, unless he was taken from the custody of
his parents, and put under the charge of a stranger, lest he
should incline to his father's religion. Upon compliance
with this order, a pittance of 100/. annually was allowed
him out of his own and his father's estate.
A certain Mr. James Hanham, having suffered the loss
of two-thirds of his estate for recusancy, although he had
never taken up arms against the Parliament, found that
when taxes and other charges had been deducted from the
remainder, he could not possibly eke out an existence with
what was left, and he borrowed 50/. upon bond. Having
paid away 15/. of the borrowed money, he put the rest in
a safe place ; but the Commissioners, finding out that he
had something in his house worth sequestrating, make a
fresh descent upon him, " search his trunks, and find the
remaining 35/., pull out the guilty bag, and two parts of it
they sequester into their own pockets to the use of the
Commonwealth." Mr. Hanham appealed, but got no
redress. One other illustration will suffice, and for further
examples we refer the curious reader to the Calendars of
State Papers of this period.
The petition of a man named Hammond was read on
the 31st March, 1652, to the effect that his estate had lain
under sequestration since the year 1645, although he had
never borne arms against the Parliament, and not one penny
' " Memoirs of Missionary Priests," new ed. illustrated, vol. ii.
pp. 167-8.

VEN. JOHN WOODCOCKE. 225

had been allowed liim for his maintenance. He had
remained at home in his own house, as long as he could
do so without danger to his life, " but, considering how
obnoxious, even the most peaceable of his religion were,
to be affronted and ruined by the daily mischiefs they
received from some disorderly soldiers, and especially
seeing one of his neighbours, a recusant, slain at his own
door, the petitioner did then, and not before, fly for pro
tection to a garrison of the late king's, without acting any
thing in the least kind against the Parliament. And
therefore humbly prayed he might have a fifth of his estate
and the arrears allowed him to buy bread. But it not
appearing to the Commissioners that he had wife or children,
theiranswer was, they had not power to grant him relief."^
In 1653 and 1655, five Franciscans, whose names are
unknown, perished in prison, and the following year three
others were captured, and probably died a lingering death.
Father Lewis, or Thomas, Wrest, who had endureda long
term of imprisonment in Lancaster Castle, was for some
reason unknown released. He went over to Douay, and
died there on the 8th May, 1669.^
The Protectorate dragged out its weary course of
intrigue, warfare, and bloodshed. Cromwell had made
his name a terror to his enemies, but his own peace of
mind was lost in the process. The gloom that hung over
the nation enveloped him ; he went about in constant fear
of assassination, wearing armour under his clothes, and
carrying loaded pistols in his pockets, for, not only
Catholics, but his own familiar friends had begun to suffer
from his despotism. If he had reformed some abuses in
the State, other evils had been sown broadcast, and even
those who did not come into collision with the tyranny of
the laws, were beginning to be weary of the perpetual
clanking of steel, and of the oppressive, military govern-
' "Memoirs of Missionary Priests," vol. ii. p. 171, new ed., ill.
» Oliver, "Collections," pp. 563, 564. Q

226 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
ment. The Venetian ambassador remarked that, during
the Protectorate, London had completely changed its
aspect ; the houses of the nobility were shut up, soldiers
paraded the streets to the sound of drums and trumpets,
and it required little imagination to fancy oneself in a
garrison town.
When Richard Cromwell succeeded his father, even the
army showed signs of division, and the restoration of the
Stuarts was only a question of time. Puij-itanism had
become identified with the Republic, and the great wave
which brought Charles II. back to the throne, swept away
the gloom, together with the principles, not all of them
mischievous, on which the Commonwealth had been
founded. As the Catholics had been the greatest sufferers
under the late tyranny, so it was natural that their
rejoicing should be most profound, their gratitude for their
deliverance most fervent.
The descriptions given of the king's amiable disposition,
agreeable m.anners, and sound judgment were in part true,
and if it had depended on his good will, his Catholic
subjects would have had little ground for complaint. Un
fortunately the evils of the times necessitated firmness,
stability and honesty of purpose in a ruler, and these
Charles did not possess. If he had loved justice as much
as he loved pleasure, and had been as constant as he was
kind-hearted, he would not have brought upon Catholics
in England a persecution more cruel and bloody than any
they had yet endured.
In acknowledgment of their loyalty, he had promised
them the free exercise of their religion, and in December,
1662, he issued a document, pledging himself to use all
his influence to obtain an act of Parliament, relaxing the
rigour of the laws against nonconformity to the State
Church. The result was a remonstrance from both
Houses, protesting against any toleration of popery.
The hypocrisy of the Protestant sects was now at its

VEN. JOHN WOODCOCKE. 227
height. When the Nonconformists petitioned Charles for
any liberty, they took care to insert a clause stating that
they " abhorred all bad men and papists."
They were conscious of being at a disadvantage with the
new monarch, on account of the murder of Charles I., and
knewnot how to shake off their awkwardness ; but they were
unmistakably the most formidable power in the State.
From this time onward, the king temporized on every
occasion when decision and firmness were of vital impor
tance, and the secret leanings he was himself supposed to
entertain towards Catholicism, only incensed the Pro
testants, without benefiting the Catholics in the least
degree. The reception of his brother and probable
successor, the Duke of York, into the Catholic Church,
created the greatest alarm, and his subsequent marriage
with a Catholic Princess, raised the outraged Protestant
feelings to a state of frenzy. So great was the panic that
the people were ready to believe anything, however mon
strous, against papists.
At this juncture, an impudent scheme was not only in
vented, but carried out with perfect success, throwing
discredit and infamy on the Catholic cause. This was the
celebrated conspiracy of Titus Oates. Oates pretended
that a damnable plot had been set on foot by popish
recusants, for assassinating the king, subverting the
Government, and for destroying the Protestant religion ;
and he gained the only too willing ear of both Houses of
Parliament. He had nothing but his own word to support
his testimony, his evidence broke down in every point, his
descriptions of individuals he pretended to know, were
ridiculously false, his character was known to be disreput
able, and yet his fictions, unsupported even by probability,
were implicitly believed. Mad as the scheme was, his
measures had been taken with care. Together with Dr.
^ See State Papers Dom. Charles II. , edited by Mrs. Anne
Everett Greene, pp. 422 — 541.
Q 2

228 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
Tongue, Rector of St. Michael's, in Wood Street, Cheap-
side, a man notorious for his fanatical hatred of Catholics,
Oates concocted a design for his infernal machine.
He went abroad, and from having been a clergyman of
the Church of England, feigned conversion, and entered
the Jesuit College at Valladolid for the purpose of
worming out secrets. He was expelled after a trial of
five months, but by dint of tears and promises obtained a
reluctant permission from the Provincial to re-enter at
St. Omers. His conduct here was such as to call forth
the reprobation of all. He asked to be admitted into the
Society, but instead of being allowed to enter the novitiate
he was peremptorily ordered to depart. On leaving St.
Omers it is said that he exclaimed he would be either
"a Jesuit or a Judas ! "
In the chapter of crime that follows, nothing was too
absurd or scandalous or impossible for Oates to devise.
Having made up. his mind to lie boldly, he seems to have
succeeded by the very audacity of his inventions. He
even accused the queen herself of conspiring with the
Jesuits to poison the king, and this, too, was believed.
Never was criminal more fortunate, for he found an
auxiliary as wicked as himself to come forward and
swear to his trumped-up tale. This was a man named
Bedloe, already famous for his crimes all over Europe. He
came straight from the House of Correction at Bristol,
and, strange to say, the man's character and antecedents in
no way discredited his evidence, as they would certainly
have done, had the public mind been in a normal and sane
condition. The calm and reasonable manner in which the violent
accusations and contradictory statements were met, had
no power to subdue passions that had long escaped the
control of conscience or sound judgment. Five Jesuits
were brought to trial, hanged, drawn and quartered, but
although the Society suffered pre-eminently from the

VEN. JOHN WALL. 229
" hideous romance resembling rather the dream of a sick
man, than any transaction which ever took place in the
real world," ^ the Franciscans had their share of the per
secution. Soon after the breaking out of Oates' false plot,
Father John Wall was arrested at the house of his friend,
Mr. Finch of Rustock Court, near Bromsgrove, in Worces
tershire, and on his refusal to take the oath of supremacy,
was lodged in Worcester Gaol.'' He was the son of a
Lancashire country gentleman, and was born in 1620.
His younger' brother, William, became a monk of the
Benedictine Abbey of Lambspring, in Germany, came to
England and was tried for participation in the plot under
the name of Marsh, was acquitted, then tried again for his
priesthood, condemned to death, and reprieved. John Wall
entered the English College at Douay, passed from thence
to the English College at Rome in 1641, and was ordained
priest in 1645, his name being entered as John Marsh. At
the age of thirty-two he took the Franciscan habit at the
Convent of St Bonaventure at Douay, and made his pro
fession the following year on the ist January, 1652.
His Superiors thought so highly of him, that he was
made Vicar of his convent within six months of his pro
fession, and soon afterwards Master of Novices.
Like all the Franciscans of the second English Province,
Father Wall had a special devotion to the Blessed Virgin,
which manifested itself even before he entered the Order.
In the slight biographical sketch of this holy martyr,
contained in the records of the English College in Rome,
there occurs this passage with reference to his departure
from the Eternal City:—" Out of his particular devotion to
our Blessed Lady, he would go by Loreto. Accordingly,
putting a pilgrim's weed over his scholar's habit, and with
' Macaulay's " History of England," vol. i. p. 233.
3 "Records of the English Province, S.J.," vol. v. p. 866.
* Challoner calls William the elder brother, but according to the
Diary of the English College in Rome, he was by four years the
younger.

230 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
staff in hand, he began his journey towards the Holy
House. The Father Minister and Confessor, with six
scholars, accompanied him part of the way, and then took
leave of him. He went the rest of the journey alone."
It seems not unlikely that Father Wall's vocation may
have been strengthened, if it was not indeed born at
Loreto, and the name Joachim of St Anne, which he took
at his profession, may have had tender memories for him
connected with this pilgrimage.
In 1656 he was sent on the English mission, where he
laboured for about twelve years, chiefly in Worcestershire,
under the assumed names of Francis Johnson and Webb.
" He was," says Challoner, "esteemed a laborious missioner,
who, both by word and example, gained many souls to
God." Being at last arrested, and brought before Sir John
Packington, Justice of the Peace, he was committed to
Worcester Gaol, in December, 1678. Here he lay for five
months, and he himself gives unconscious testimony of
the heavenly disposition with which he bore his suffer
ings in a narrative which he wrote of his imprisonment
and trial : — "•'
"Imprisonment in our times, especially when none
can send to their friends, nor friends come to them, is the
best means to teach us how to put our confidence in God
alone in all things, and then He will make His promise
good, ' that all things shall be added to us ' (Luke xii.),
which chapter, if everyone would read and make good use
of, a prison would be better than a palace, and a confine
ment for religion and a good conscience more pleasant
than all the liberties the world could afford. As for
my own part, God give me His grace, and all faithful
Christians their prayers. I am happy enough. We all
ought to follow the narrow way, though there be many
' See Cobbett's " State Trials." The trial of Francis Johnson a
Franciscan, for high treason, vol. vii. p. 730. '

VEN. JOHN WALL. 231

difficulties in it. It is an easy thing to run the blind way
of liberty, but God deliver us from all broad sweet ways."
On the 25th April,^ he was brought to trial before
Judge Atkins, at the Assizes. The charges against him
were that, being born within the dominions of the crown
of England, he had gone abroad, and had taken orders in
the Church of Rome, had returned to England to pro
mulgate the doctrines of the said Church, and had refused
to take the oath of allegiance and supremacy, whereby he
was guilty of treason, under the statute of Elizabeth 27,
ch. 2. Besides these, there were other counts against
him, alleging that he had said Mass and heard confessions,
that he had received converts, and finally that he was a
Jesuit, under most of which counts he would be guilty of
treason under the statutes of Elizabeth and James I.
Only one witness appeared voluntarily against him, and
this man was a native of Stourbridge, who, having been
reprimanded by Father Wall on account of his vicious life,
took this opportunity of revenge.'
The counsel for the prosecution having stated the case,
in a violent address, in which he recapitulated the horrible
calumnies and pretended disclosures of Titus Oates, the
witnesses were called, and then Father Wall was asked
if he had anything to say, for in those days persons
arraigned on charges of treason were not allowed the
privilege of counsel.
The martyr neither confessed nor denied his priesthood,
but conducted his defence in such a manner as to gain for
himself a reputation of great wisdom and prudence.
Nevertheless, the jury brought him in guilty, and Judge
Atkins sentenced him to be hanged, drawn, a'nd quartered.
On hearing his sentence. Father Wall bowed his head,
and said aloud, " Thanks be to God ! God save the king,
" On the 15th April, O.S.
' Dodd," Church HistoryofEngland,"vol. iii. p. 311. "Hebecame
a vagabond, in testimony that heaven was not pleased with such kind
of sacrifices."

232 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
and I beseech God to bless your lordship and all this
honourable bench I "
"You have spoken very well," replied the judge, "and
I do not intend that you shall die, at lea.st, not for the
present until I know the king's further pleasure."
Continuing his narrative. Father Wall says, —
" I was not, I thank God for it, troubled with any dis
turbing thoughts, either against the judge for his sentence,
or the jury that gave in such a verdict, or against any of
the witnesses, for I was then of the same mind, as by
God's grace, I ever shall be, esteeming them all the best
friends to me, in all they did or said, that ever I had in
my life. And I was, I thank God, so present with myself
whilst the judge pronounced the sentence, that without
any concern for anything in this world, I did actually, at
the same time, offer myself and the world to God. After
the judge was gone from the bench, several Protestant
gentlemen and others, who had heard my trial, came to
me, though strangers, and told me how sorry they were
for me ; to whom, with thanks, I replied, that I was
troubled they should grieve for me or my condition, who
was joyful for it myself : fori told them I had professed
this faith and religion all my lifetime, which I was as sure
to be true, as I was sure of the truth of God's word, on
which it was grounded ; and therefore, in it I deposed my
soul, and eternal life and happiness, and therefore, should
I fear to lose my temporal life for this faith, whereon my
eternal life depcnd.s, I should be worse than an infidel ;
and whosoever should prefer the life of their bodies before
their faith, their religion, or conscience, they were worse
than heathens. For my own part, I told them, I was as
ready, by God's grace, to die to-morrow, as I had been to
receive sentence of death to-day, and as willing, as if I had
a grant of the greatest dukedom."
It does not appear whether Judge Atkins really exerted
himself to obtain a reprieve, as he had promised.

VEN. JOHN WALL. 233
About this time twenty-four priests had received sentence
of death, in various parts of the kingdom, for the exercise
of their functions. Most of them, after condemnation,
were sent to London, to undergo the ordeal of a private
examination before Shaftesbury and his assistants, Oates,
Bedloe, and Dugdale^ But their innocence was proof
against the influence of threats and promises. Not one
admitted any knowledge of the supposed conspiracy, not
one could be induced to lend his aid to the informers. The
House of Commons grew impatient under the delay ;
several of the members called aloud for their blood ; and
an address was presented to the king, soliciting their
immediate execution. The council remanded them to
their former prisons, and having granted reprieves to some,
abandoned the remainder to their fate.
¦' Pleasington suffered at Chester, Evans and Lloyd at
Cardiff, Lewis at Usk, Postgate at York, Mahony at Ruthin,
Johnson at Worcester, and Kemble at Hereford. Of these,
two had passed their eightieth year I " *
No one was convinced of the guilt of these holy priests,
but many had an interest in treating them as guilty, and
Lord p-airfax declared vehemently that " the plot must
be handled as if it were true, whether it was so or no." ^
Father Wall, after his return to Worcester, wrote the
following letter to Mr. Charles Trinder, counsellor, after
wards sergeant-at-law : —
" Sir, — With my service, I return you thanks for the
twenty shillings. I am safe returned from London,
whither I was sent to be examined by Mr. Oates and
Bedloe, Dugdale, and Prance, to see if any of them had
anything against me, as guilty concerning these great
disturbances of the times. I was very strictly examined
by all four, several times over, in that month I stayed at
London, and thanks be to God, I was, after the last
' Lingard, "History of England," vol. xii. p. 213.
' Temple II. 506.

234 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
examination, publicly declared innocent and free of all
plots whatever, by Mr. Bedloe, who examined me last;
and he was so kind to me, that he told me publicly, that
if I would but comply in matter of religion, that he would
pawn his life for me, that for all I was condemned, yet I
.should not die. I was also offered the same after my first
examination, though I should have been never so guilty,
if I would have done what was against my conscience.
But I told them I would not buy my life at so dear a rate,
as to wrong my conscience. How God will please to
dispose of all us that are condemned, none know. Some
think it is concluded we must all die ; and yet, because it
will not appear grateful in the eyes of rational and moral
men, to see us die merely for conscience' sake, I have
been several times informed from London, since I came
down, that, if possible, some will do their best to bring
some of us, one way or other, into a plot, though we have
all at London been declared innocent after strict examina
tion. God's will be done. The greater the injury and
injustice done against us by men, to take away our lives,
the greater our glory in eternal life before God. This is
the last persecution that will be in England ; therefore I
hope God will give all His holy grace to make the best
use of it. All these things have been sufficiently prophe
sied long since, and I do no way question the truth,
though it is like some will suffer first, of whom, I have a
strong imagination, I shall be one. God's will be done on
earth, as it is in heaven, and in mercy bring me happy
thither. " I subscribe. Sir, your faithful servant,
" Francis Webb."
Father Wall's "strong imagination " had rightly fore
shadowed his own suffering. Serjeant Trinder wrote at the
bottom of this letter : " This holy priest, sometimes called
Mr. Johnson, whose true name was Wall, was martyred at
Worcester. He was equally courageous and cheerful at

VEN. JOHN WALL. 235

his apprehension, during his imprisonment, at his trial, and
to his very death. A true account of all which might
deservedly fill a volume." '
A curious manu.script is preserved at Stonyhurst College,
purporting to be "A true relation of some judgments of
God, against those who accused the priests and other
Catholics, after the pretended conspiracy in England." ^
It contains the following passage concerning the fate of
those who were a means to Father Wall's death : — " Before
Mr. Johnson the priest was executed in the city of
Worcester, Pakington, the Justice of the Peace, who had
imprisoned him, as he sat at table at his meal, fell to the
ground senseless, and died the next daj', without ever
having been able to utter a word ; and his sister-in-law
went altogether out of her mind, no one knowing why. A
man called Rogers, who betrayed the priest, and got him
put in prison, going home immediately after the false oath
taken in Court, when passing a bridge was knocked down
by an ox, and grievously hurt ; and his two companions who
had taken a like oath against the said priest, both of them
died in a boiling cauldron, where one was trying to help
the other who had fallen in ; and the mistress of these two
servants, who had advised them to commit the crime, had
her own brother imprisoned in Newgate, and before the
priest was put to death executed for having killed his own
illegitimate child." "^
F'our months had elapsed from the time of Father Wall's
condemnation, before he was told to make ready for death.
When it became known that his hour was drawing near,
Father William Levison went to visit him in prison, and
wrote a letter giving an account of him to the English
Franciscans. Bishop Challoner was able to procure a
copy of it, as follows : —
> Challoner, voL ii. pp. 217, 218.
2 Stonyhurst MSS. Angl. vol. v., n. 100, see " Records of the Eng
lish Province, S J.," vol. v. p. 866, note 27.

236 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
" Of late, I was desired, and willingly went, to visit our
friend Mr. Webb, [Father Wall,] prisoner at Worcester,
whose execution drew near at hand. I came to him two
days before it, and found him a cheerful sufferer of his
present imprisonment, and ravished as it were with joy
with the future hopes of dying for so good a cause. I
found, contrary to both his and my expectation, the favour
of being with him alone ; and the day before his execution
1 enjoyed that privilege for the space of four or five hours
together, during which time I heard his confession, and
communicated him, to his great joy and satisfaction. I
ventured likewise, through his desire, to be present at his
execution, and placed myself boldly next to the under-
sheriff, near the gallows, where I had the opportunity of
giving him the last absolution just as he was turned off
the ladder. During his imprisonment he carried himself
like a true servant and disciple of his crucified Master.
thirsting after nothing more than the shedding of his
blood for the love of his God, which he performed with a
courage and cheerfulness becoming a valiant soldier of
Christ, to the great edification of all Catholics and admira
tion of all Protestants, the rational and moderate part
especially, who showed a great sense of sorrow for his
death, decrying the cruelty of putting men to death for
priesthood and religion. He is the first that ever suffered
at Worcester since the Catholic religion entered into this
nation, which he seemed with joy to tell me before his
execution. He was quartered, and his head separated
from his body according to his sentence. His body was
permitted to be buried, and was accompanied by the
Catholics of the town, to St. Oswald's Churchyard, where
he lies interred. His head I got privately,' and conveyed
' This precious relic was exposed in a case in the Franciscan Con
vent at Douay. A tooth is now preserved at Taunton, encased in an
old Spanish silver-gilt cross, a Christ on one side, the tooth on the
other. There is also a square bone, nearly three inches wide, taken
apparently Irom the backbone.

VEN. JOHN WALL. 237

it to Mr. Randolph, who will be careful to keep it, till
opportunity serves to transport it to Douay, etc. The
miseries we here lie under arc great, and I hope our
brothers in safety will be mindful of our condition in their
best thoughts, and beg of God we may cheerfully bear our
crosses, and if it be His holy will, courageously sacrifice
our lives, in defence of our religion, which is the earnest
desire of, etc., " WlLLlAM LevisOiN.
"August 25, 1679."
Father Wall was hanged at Red ilil!,^ near Worcester,
August 22nd, 1679, and Challoner says that it was re
marked some time after, that his grave in St. Oswald's
Churchyard remained green, whereas the rest of the
churchyard was all bare, it being a constant thoroughfare.
At the congregation of the Franciscan brotherhood held
in London, the 12th October, 1684, F'ather John Cro.s.se
was commissioned "in honorem Dei et provincia; decus,"
to write and publish Father Wall's life,"' but we have been
unable to find any trace of such a work.
The martyr composed a long speech shortly before his
death, and gave it to a friend to be printed. It contained
a profession of his faith, hope, and charity, and expressed
abhorrence of all plots and conspiracies, together with the
concealment of such. Praying for God's mercy upon him
self, the whole Church, the King and Kingdom, and his
persecutors, he declared that he forgave the latter from
his heart, and asked pardon of all whom he might have
offended. He finally offered up his death to God, and
commended his soul into His hands."
In another part of Father Levison's letter above quoted
he mentions the sufferings of his brother, the Ven. Francis
Levison, also a p-ranciscan, known in religion as heather
Ignatius of S. Clare. " My poor brother," he writes, " con-
* "Records of the English Province, S.J." vol. v. p. 866.
' Register, p. 177.
' CobbeU'.i "State Trials," vol. ii. p. 750.

238 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
tinues still a close prisoner, and comp-lains much of want.
The justice, who committed him, has endeavoured to bribe
witnesses to swear against him, but as yet cannot prevail
with any. What will be the event of these proceedings,
only God knows." After fourteen months' imprisonment
he died in fetters, nth February, 1680, aged thirty-four
years, sixteen of which he had passed in religion.
Among those priests already condemned to death, who
were sent to London to be examined with reference to
their implication in Oates' pretended plot, the name of
Charles Mahony occurs, in the number of those who were
not reprieved.' This holy Franciscan was born in Ireland,
belonged to the Irish Province, and was captured in Wales
on his return from the continent, in the heat of the
" No Popery " persecution. Challoner has chronicled the
few facts which have come down to us concerning him.
He was driven by stress of weather upon the coast of
Wales, as he was proceeding to Ireland, was taken prisoner,
and thrown into Denbigh Gaol. He was subsequently
arraigned for high treason on account of his Orders, and
confessed himself to be a priest, upon which sentence of
death was passed. On the 12th August, 1679, his execu
tion took place at Ruthin. Having been drawn in his
habit to the place where he was to suffer, he said, —
" Now God Almighty is pleased I should suffer martyr
dom. His holy Name be praised, since I die for my
religion. But you have no right to put me to death in
this country, though I confessed myself to be a priest, for
you seized me as I was going to my native country,
Ireland, being driven at sea on this coast ; for I never
used my function in England before I was taken. How
ever, God forgive you, for I do, and shall always pray for
you, especially for those that were so good to me in my
' Dodd failed to identify him, although he placed him on his list,
vol. iii. p. 400. He is " N.N.," described as an Irish priest who suf-
ferred in North Wales in 1679.

VEN. CHARLES MAHONY. 239
distress. I pray God bless our king, and defend him from
his enemies, and convert him to the holy Catholic faith.
Amen." He was hanged, drawn and quartered, acccording to the
sentence, and Challoner mentions the fact of his having been
cut down alive, a barbarity which seems gradually to haye
fallen into disuse in these later executions, although it still
continued to be part of the legal sentence.
Father Wall's prediction, that this was the last persecu
tion that would take place in England, has been verified.
The tale of blood was well-nigh told, and although many
priests were afterwards imprisoned, and died a lingering
death for their Orders, only a few names remained to com
plete the list of martyrs who were publicly hanged and
butchered. Since the reign of Charles II. no Catholic
has been required to seal his faith with his blood. One
other Franciscan was brought to trial, Father Charles
Party, who was found guilty and condemned to death for
his priesthood and for participation in the so-called plot,
on evidence that was proved to be false ; but he was re
prieved and is supposed to have died in prison. Poetical
justice requires that the fate of the perjurers should not
be altogether passed over. " Even at this day," says Ma-
caulay, "the mention of their names excites the disgust
and horror of all sects and parties." After the trials and
executions of so many holy Jesuits, Benedictines, Francis
cans, and secular priests, men who had died protesting
in their innocence, and giving so many signs of upright
ness and sanctity, people began by degrees to open their
eyes, and refuse implicit belief in the oaths of such men
as Oates and Bedloe. Oates was subsequently brought to
trial and convicted of wilful perjury. In passing judgment,
the Court lamented that it could, not inflict the punish
ment of death upon him, in atonement for the innocent
blood his perjuries had caused to flow.^ A letter, dated
' " Records of the English Province, S.J.," vol. v. p. 75.

240 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
May 1 8, 1685, and preserved in the public archives at
Brussels, contains the following account of his sentence : —
" This day Titus Oates performed the first part of his
sentence by standing in the pillory before Westminster
Hall gate. He first walked about the hall with an inscrip
tion of his crime written on a paper, and being brought
to the king's bench desired my Lord Chief Justice to pro
tect him from the rabble ; ' for,' says he, ' I suffer for my
truth,' and being hence carried and put in the pillory, he'
said that 'they might there see the late king (Charles II.)
the Lords and three Houses of Commons standing in him
upon the pillory.' He was well pelted with eggs, and bore
all with invincible impudence. He is to-morrow to stand
in the same manner before the Exchange, and upon Wed
nesday whipt from Aldgate to Newgate, and from thence
on Friday to be the like to Tyburn, with his face to the
gallows ; on every 9th August in the Palace Yard ; every
I oth at Charing Cross ; and every nth at the Temple ;
and every 2nd September before the Old Exchange.
Once a year during his life to be stript of his canonical
habit, and pay looo marks upon each indictment, and be
imprisoned during life."
The Prince of Orange released him, gave him a pension
and otherwise rewarded him. William Bedloe died blas
pheming and cursing those who had caused him to perjure
himself by accusing the innocent. Dr. Tongue died of
starvation and eaten up with vermin," and others concerned
in the conspiracy ended in as wretched a manner.
On the isth October, 1729, died in Hurst Castle, Father
Matthew, or according to his name in religion, Paul of St.
Francis Atkinson. This venerable servant of God was
born in Yorkshire, and became a Franciscan, at the age of
seventeen, at Douay, 27th December, 1673, and was subse
quently made Lector of Theology and Definitor of the
Province. « " Records of the English Province, S.J." vol. v. p. 74.

FATHER FRANCIS ATKINSON. 241
Being sent to labour on the English mission in 1687, he
continued, during the short time that remained to him of
freedom, to minister with the utmost zeal and diligence to
the necessities of the still persecuted Church. He had been
summoned to attend the twenty-third Chapter, to be held
in London on the 9th July, 169?, but he neither appeared,
nor sent an explanation of his absence, and this was the
first intimation the friars received of the cruel fate that
had befallen him. Accused by a false convert. Father
Atkinson had been apprehended and condemned to per
petual imprisonment for his priesthood. He was hurried
into his living tomb, before any efforts could be made to
save him, and once enclosed within its dreary precincts,
he was beyond the reach of all that his brethren could do
to obtain his release. He was as much cut off from the
land of the living as if he had perished on the gallows, and
no details of his imprisonment were suffered to reach the
outside world, until the news came, after thirty years, that
he had exchanged his dungeon for the Courts of Light
and Glory. The Chapter Register thus records his end ¦}
" In Hurst prison, Hants, died the venerable confessor
of faith and of Christ's priesthood. Father Paul Atkinson,
formerly Lector of Theology, Definitor of the Province, and
a Jubilarian of the Order, who, during a continual martyr
dom of thirty years, reflected honour on his prison, on our
Province and on the English mission, who, though not cut
off by the persecutor's sword, still, as we piously trust, did
not forego the palm of martyrdom. Wherefore we do not
commend him so much to the prayers of our brethren, as
we propose him as a model for their imitation."
In the year 1746, the annals of the English martyrs
close with the death of Father Germanus Holmes, in Lan
caster Castle. He had entered the Franciscan Order at
Douay, where he sometime exercised the function of
Lector of Philosophy, and was afterwards sent on the
' P. 364. R

242 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
English mission. He suffered great insults from the popu
lace for his priestly character, and, being taken before a
magistrate, was commjtted to prison and loaded with
chains. He died about four months afterwards, ' not with
out suspicion of poison administered by a wicked
woman.' " ''¦
We have seen the martyred sons of St. Francis, standing
before rulers and governors, and at the court of kings, in
vulnerable, by their humility, to all human respect ; we have
seen them by their invincible love of poverty, made one
with Christ's poor ; we have seen them in prison, and on the
gallows where their triumphant love of the Cross made them
indifferent to all suffering. May it be ours at no very
distant day, to see them raised upon our altars, receiving
the suffrages of those who inherit in peace, the good things
in defence of which they so valiantly laid down their
lives. " Chapter Register, p. 430.

APPENDIX.

It may not be out of place here to give some account of the
English nuns of the Third Order of St. Francis enclosed, as their
foundation was so intimately connected with the revival of the
English province of Franciscans of the Strict Observance. This
foundation was the cherished work of Father Gennings, and it
was watched over and tended with fatherly care by martyrs and
their successors through prosperous and evil times, until the Rev.
Father O'Farrell the last remaining member of the Second
Province, after a long missionary career spent among the Catholics
at Bristol, ended his life with his Franciscan sisters at Taunton.
He had been to them a spiritual guide and father, and he died
peacefully November 27th, 1876.
Seventy-eight years had elapsed since the dissolution of the
first Franciscan province, under the sacrilegious hand of Henry
Vn Ith, when in 161 8 Father Gennings received full powers to
bring about a restoration by calling together all English
Franciscans wherever they might be found. With the donations
of the faithful — English, Flemish, and Spanish — a convent was
provided at Douay, and Father Gennings was named Vicar
Provincial. No sooner was this great work begun, than the Vicar Provincial
used all his influence and power to establish a convent of enclosed
nuns of the Third Order at Brussels. It was in 1619 that two
widow ladies, Mrs. Davis— whosemaiden name was Sleforde, and
Mrs. Brown, daughter of Sir Thomas Kemp— took the habit
of St. Francis in the church of the Friars Minor at Brussels,
with the intention of founding a convent of the Third Order
(enclosed) for their own countrywomen. Although they were the
foundresses, they chose to remain lay sisters, in order to help the
new community. They were soon joined by six young ladies
from England sent by Father Gennings, and with- their united
means, a house was procured and placed under the protection of
St. Elizabeth. The Rev. Father Andrew k Soto, Commissary-
general of the order this side of the Alps, gave his letters patent
R 2

244 APPENDIX.
for erecting the new monastery, and subjecting it to the Province
of England. By his orders, Sister Margaret de Castro, and Sister
Beatrix Romires, were summoned in 1621, from the convents of
the Third Order at Ghent and at Valenciennes, to govern the new-
community as abbess and vicaress respectively, and Father
Davenport was appointed confessor.
After professing the first eight novices, the two foreign Supe
riors returned to their respective convents, it being considered
advisable for the rising community to have English Superiors.
For this reason Father Andrew a Soto sent an obedience to
the Sisters Margaret and Elizabeth Radcliffe, Poor Clares at
Gravelines, to repair to St. Elizabeth's Convent at Brussels
and govern as abbess and vicaress. They took up their charges
in 1622, and remained until the religious were sufiSciently
numerous to elect their own Superiors. In 1626, the number of
choir nuns had increased to thirty-four, and Mother Frances
Greenbury being elected abbess, the two sisters Radcliffe, to the
grief of the whole convent, returned to Gravelines. In 1623 the
Ven. Francis Bell was appointed confessor to St. Elizabeth's
Convent, and it has been shov/n how that for seven years he
exercised this charge, sparing no pains for the spiritual and
temporal welfare of his children. In these first years of the new
community, his watchful and zealous care was most valuable, and
he may truly be called its founder. The first pages of the
Archives are written in his own hand, and he was the editor of a
little book of the rules which he had printed for the convent during
the time that he was confessor to the nuns. At the end of the
dedication he writes : " I pray God that this plantation may
remain on earth, until our Saviour Jesus do come to judge the
world." In 1630 the first Chapter of the revived English Province
was held in this convent. Father Bell was at the same time made
guardian of Douay, and was consequently obliged to abandon
the care of the nuns into other hands. Meanwhile, their numbers
had wonderfully increased ; the Rev. Father Andrew \ Soto
gave the habit himself to twenty-nine novices. From its beginning
he took the greatest interest in the welfare of the community.
He died in 1625.
After sixteen years' residence at Brussels, the Superiors con
sidered that it would be advisable for various reasons to
remove. In the first place, the religious had .not sufficient
means of subsistence, owing to the high price of provisions ;
their enclosure was moreover too small, with no possibility of
enlarging it. A settlement was provided for them by the
Provincial at Nieuport, with spacious grounds and ^ every con
venience for carrying out their works. They were received
willingly by the magistrates of the town, and Monseigneur

APPENDIX. 245
Cornelius Jansenius, then Bishop of Ypres, showed them great
kindness, as did also Paul de Gomiecourt, forty-second Abbot
of St. Nicholas at Furnes, their great friend. Unfortunately,
however, the air was so unhealthy here, that in a few years thirty-
seven members died. Added to this, the cruel wars between
Charles I. and his Parliament stopped all intercourse with
England, and no fresh postulants arrived. The town was also
exposed to constant alarms of war, which deterred ladies from
joining them. All these cogent reasons determined the Provincial
to remove the community from Nieuport.
Prinsenhof, the old ducal palace of the sovereign counts of
Flanders at Bruges, was for sale. The interior was in a ruinous
condition, and required immense contrivances and alterations to
fit it for monastic purposes ; but it was in a healthy situation
with a sufficiently large garden. Some difficulties arose, but
Henry Howard, afterwards Duke of Norfolk, warmly espoused the
interests of the community, and he persuaded a Flemish gentle
man, M. d'Ognate, to exert himself in their favour. Through him
a grant was obtained from the magistrates of Bruges, and con
firmed by the King of Spain. M. d'Ognate did not stop at this
first act of kindness, but superintended all the building and
alterations, procured many privileges, and, in return for all his
labour, he begged that he himself and his sons, and his sons' sons
might always be Syndic Fathers to the convent. This office they
continued to fill for several generations. Many years after, he was
sent as special envoy to Charles II , who knighted him ; he died
in England, but ordered his body to be taken to Prinsenhof for
interment. He had erected an altar in the cloister, with a family
vault beneath ; there he was buried, and most of his descendants,
until all was destroyed in the great French Revolution of 1792.
In December, 1662, under the superintendence of M.
d'Ognate, the alterations at Prinsenhof had been pushed on
vigorously, and the Rev. Mother Abbess and her nuns
received notice they were to leave Nieuport and proceed to
Bruges. But it was not till May, 1664, that the church was
finished and blessed by the Right Reverend Lord Robert Ennis,
Bishop of Bruges. His lordship gave one of the painted windows
of the church, the Province of Flanders another, and the town of
Bruges a third. The church and convent were dedicated to Our
Lady of Dolours.
It may be noted here that the church was built in that part
of the old palace where Philip of Austria, son of Maximilian
and Mary of Burgundy, was born.
In 1677 Henry, sixth Duke of Norfolk, succeeded his brother.
He had built a small house adjoining Prinsenhof, that he and
his wife might be near the convent, which he now made over to

246 < APPENDIX.

the community, with the condition that they were to have the
use of it when they were in Bruges.
It was through his fatherly love for this convent, and his
constant and liberal donations, that the community were so well
estabhshed at Bruges. He died in 1683, and his duchess had his
heart embalmed and also the heart of his sixth son, who died the
following year, and she sent them, in porphyry urns, to be kept
in the church of Prinsenhof. These urns fell into the hands of
the French, who destroyed the church and monastery during the
great Revolution.
The mother of the Duchess of Norfolk led a life of retirement
within the convent, for twelve years, and died there in 1 688.
For a hundred and twenty-five years the English nuns found a
peaceful home, and led an unchequered life at Prinsenhof; but
troubled times were coming.
In 1780 commenced the inauspicious reign of Joseph II.
The first note of warning was a demand for the exact number of
religious in every convent in his empire, with an order forbidding
any religious to be professed before the age of twenty-five. Next
came an edict forbidding all religious communities to be subject
to any foreign Superior.
In 1788 six convents in Bruges were suppressed, and the
inmates turned adrift with a small annuity.
The following year seven more convents shared the same fate.
These measures, and the conviction that the Emperor or his
ministers would plunder all they could lay their hands on, deter
mined the abbess to place what money the convent possessed on
securities in England at a small profit, rather than run the risk of
being plundered by these innovators. All the valuable plate
which had been left to the convent by the Earl of Dover at his
death, was melted down. It consisted of the complete furniture of
his own private chapel, in solid Spanish silver — antependium and
tabernacle, with steps and canopy for the Blessed Sacrament, and
two beautiful angels, eight large candlesticks, thurible, flower
vases, and many smaller articles. The choice collection of
paintings, which he also left to the convent, were now sold for
a mere trifle ; but these merely temporal losses were as nothing
to what was yet to come.
In 1790 Joseph II. died, repenting the unjust measures which
had deprived him of the Netherlands. They had been only the
beginning of greater calamities, for, during these years, infidelity
had been fostering revolution in France, and leading up to the
disastrous outbreak of 1792, when General Dumourier, in one
month, conquered all the Netherlands. After his great victory
at Jemappes, the municipality of Bruges obliged the nuns to
ring the convent bells, and illuminate the windows of their young

APPENDIX. 2A7

ladies' school, which faced the street. A Jacobjn club was
established in the town, and most vexatious demands were
continually made upon the convent.
There was a short respite after the death of Louis XVI.,
when the Austrian arms prevailed, and the French were forced to
retreat to their frontiers. However, hope soon vanished, for on
Good Friday a large body of French troops entered Bruges to
the consternation of the inhabitants.
They lay all night on their arms in the market-place with
cannon planted around them. The Bishop sent orders that the
churches were to be kept closed, and the services to be performed
as quietly as possible; when, to the inexpressible joy of the
inhabitants, on Saturday morning they found that the French
had decamped in the night, bag and baggage. Nevertheless they
had gone into the houses of the most respectable burghers, and
carried off several hostages.
After this alarming Holy Week, there was joy at Easter, for
Bruges was filled with English and Hanoverian troops, with the
Duke of York as commander of the forces. England had now
declared war against these atheistical Republicans.
During his stay in Bruges his Royal Highness visited the two
English communities, and most considerately brought with him
only one English officer in attendance. On taking leave, he
recommended the success of his arms to their prayers, and after
his departure, he sent one of his suite with a present of twenty-
five guineas to each of the two foundations. He visited every
English convent as he passed through the country, and to the
English clergy, making their escape one by one on the road,
where his army was encamped, he was most kind and generous.
In 1793 the Franciscan Fathers were obliged to abandon their
beloved convent at Douay. They escaped through many dangers,
one or two at a time, till they all arrived at Bruges. As many as
possible were lodged in the Convent of Prinsenhot, and a capacious
building was procured for the others, until the English Carmes
offered to lend them their convent at Tongres. For the moment all
was now quiet, there was a lull in the storm, though signs were
not wanting of direful calamities that were soon to fall on the
country. The following account of the removal from Bruges to England is
given in the words of Mother F. Teresa Bird, who was one of the
community at the time, and an eye-witness of all she describes : —
"As the time approached when we were finally to quit our
convent, the news from the armies ot alternate repulses and
victories became more alarming. We often heard the sound of
artillery in the distance, in anxious and trembHng suspense,
wondering which side grew weaker, praying in our hearts it might

248 APPENDIX.

be the French. We now took the precaution of packing up some
of our goods. It was on the 3rd of May, 1794, that Mr. Mercken, a
kind friend to the convent, called on our Mother Abbess, Gertrude
Simeon Weld, and told her that the French army was rapidly
advancing, and that she had better proceed that very evening
, towards the frontiers of Holland. We might remain, he said, that
night with his sister, who lived in a country-house near Coolkerke,
and proceed the following day to a farm in the neighbourhood
of Sluys, twelve miles from Bruges. Our Mother yielded to his
views of the case, and informed the nuns of the urgent necessity
of moving. At 4 o'clock Matins were said in choir ; it was the
Feast of St. Athanasius, and when the Gospel of St. Matthew was
read : ' Cum persequentur in civitate ista, fugite in afiam ' (When
they shall persecute you in this city, flee into another — Chap. x. 23)
it stimulated us to fortitude, by reminding us of good and holy
people who in past ages had suffered more than we were likely to
endure. " After supper, we assembled in the Chapter house, and our
confessor, the Rev. Father Grafton, O.S.F., came to escort us. No
secular dresses had been provided, so we walked in our religious
habit, two and two, accompanied by the four young ladies, who
were still with us, to the back gate, which was nearer to the
ramparts than the regular enclosure door. No one can conceive
what we felt in passing the threshold. Another Franciscan
Father and two French priests joined us ; the infirm went in the
coach, and a waggon had been provided for the few things that
were packed up. Coolkerke is three miles from Bruges. The
evening was beautiful and we were received with true Flemish
hospitality by Madame Stoppens and her family. Our arrival
must however have been a great inconvenience to her. She
had beds spread on the floor of a large parlour, and we lay
down to rest, but sleep was impossible. At day-break most of
us went into the garden to say our Office, and our Fathers took us
to the parish church, where they said Mass for us. This comforted
us, and we returned for breakfast, and sat upon bales in the hall,
looking very miserable and not knowing what was to be done next.
Mr. Mercken, however, soon ended our suspense He came fiom
Bruges, with the glad tidings that Landrecy had been taken by
the Allies under Prince Coburg, and that we might return to our
convent. The ladies insisted on our dining before our return,
and waited upon us themselves. We gratefully took leave of our
kind hostess and her family, and set out on our walk home. We
soon met a party of gentlemen fiom Bruges ; one said sarcastically,
as he passed us, " A fine evening for a walk, ladies, " at which we
felt equally provoked and mortified. We arrived at our convent
about 7 o'clock ; talked over the adventures of the day, and retired

APPENDIX. 249

to our dear cells to get a good night's sleep. The church bells
ringing the next morning to Prime, announced our return to the
people, who heartily rejoiced to get us back.
" We could not, however, flatter ourselves that we should remain
long stationary ; we tried to hope it, but the truth by degrees forced
itself on us, that we must shortly quit. At this distance of time,
and under the present aspect of Catholicity in England, it may
appear strange that we did not at once determine to sail immedi
ately from Ostend, only twelve miles off, direct to England. But
England was the very last place to present itself to our minds and
wishes. We considered it neither eligible nor possible, if we meant
to keep together as a religious community, which was our most
ardent desire. There appeared to us no human probability of
this being tolerated in a country where penal laws were still in
existence, forbidding church stuffs, church books, breviaries or
crucifixes, to pass the Custom-house. All our views tended to
a temporary asylum in a place where we could keep together, until
the events of war might enable us to return to our happy home.
Notwithstanding this mental preparation, we continued so
reluctant to the idea of leaving, that actual preparations went on
slowly and neghgently. The Superiors had not courage to provide
secular clothes, for fear of depressing the spirits of the nuns still
more ; but she got for each a long black mantle, and a black silk
hood, such as were worn by Flemish women, and which entirely
covered the religious habit. During the five weeks which elapsed
between our walk to Coolkerke and our final emigration, our
beautiful organ was taken down. It was a double instrument,
and as much as would make one complete organ was packed up
by men hired for the purpose. But it never arrived in England.
Sister Chantal Howse, who was novice and sacristan at that time
and later our venerable Mother Abbess for 30 years, secured all
the vestments, church linen, and church plate, and all our
venerated rehcs of Enghsh martyrs. The Mother Vicaress
Lorymer saw to the packing of pewter vessels, office books,
curtains and things of absolute necessity as to clothing — but
all the best pewter was left behind, as well as our library, pictures,
crucifixes, pianos, etc., and also all the vestments in the outer
sacristy, with the three porphyry urns containing the hearts of
our friends, the Duke of Norfolk, his son, and Lady Teynham.
All these things were forgotten in the midst of our grief and con
fusion. "It is very certain that, having emigrated by sea, and in
ships hired by ourselves, we might have brought over all our
valuables with very litde expense. But partly from the fear of
having too much luggage, and partly from the idea that unless we
returned to Prinsenhof they would be useless or an incumbrance

250 APPENDIX.

our Superiors decided to leave them behind. Every nun was
provided with a knapsack, and a few shillings in case of accidental
separation. " On the 14th June, being Saturday in Whitsun-week, the abbess
Mother Gertrude Weld was informed by our friend Mr. Mercken,
that the garrison at Landrecy had surrendered to the French, and
that their troops would shortly be in Flanders. He urged our
departure without loss of time, to the frontiers of Holland, as he
had before planned ; he even advised our leaving the town by
break of day, for he thought the magistrates were likely to order
the gates to be shut that no one might leave it. He bid her take
the nuns to his sister's, and he would send carriages there to take
them to the farm near Aremberg, where he had already forwarded
a profusion of good blankets and other necessaries.
"The abbess allowed the nuns in general to go to bed ignor
ant of what was to come, though many suspected it. Matins
were said as usual at midnight, and those not present were called
up and informed of the bad news. Mass was said at one o'clock.
It was Trinity Sunday morning : all went to Communion and after
the usual half-hour's thanksgiving and crosses, adjourned to the re
fectory for breakfast. Then the mantles and hoods were brought
forth to cover our religious dress, and, in the midst of our grief,
we had a laughable scene in fitting ourselves out, for one of our
old jubilarians, a tall nun, took a short mantle, then another jubi
larian being short, took a long mantle ; so that we were not so
expeditiously dressed as we wished. This transient amusement
did us a little good, and soon the Rev. Father Grafton came in
to muster us for our march. We had one coach for the old and
infirm, among whom was Mother Catherine Dormer, who had not
recovered from having broken her knee during the last winter.
When ready to set off, Sister M. Austin Flutton was found
missing. It was suspected that she intended to stay behind, but
Father Grafton soon found her in her hiding-hole, and brought
her out to join his regiment. We again went through our garden,
and out of the town by the Ezelpoort. The guards at that gate
were overheard to say, ' Those nuns ought not to be allowed to
leave the town.' No one was up at Madame Stoppens' when we
arrived there. We therefore went into the garden to say 'Our
Office, and that accoraplished,'many of us, with two of our priests,
walked on two or three miles to a village called Damme, which
lay on the road we were to pass. There, quite tired, we sat
down on some grass, and our Fathers went to procure us some
refreshments. In the meantime the good people had seen us.
Many wept at the sight, and the mother of the parish priest, who
kept his house, made us go in, and with the utmost kindness and
hospitality quickly served us an excellent breakfast. Just as we

APPENDIX. 251

had finished, the church bell rang to High Mass. We wished
much to go, but alas 1 the carriages were arriving with those who
had not joined in our walk. Accompanying these were some
empty vehicles to take us up. They consisted of four coaches,
and the farmer's covered cart, with rows of benches which held
twelve of us. This cart was driven by the farmer himself. We
arrived about one o'clock at his farm, quite in the country, a
quarter of a mile from the village church and a short mile from
an inlet of the sea, where a small Dutch ship, hired by Mr.
Mercken, waited till we determined to move on. As usual in
the Flemish houses, there was one single garret over the whole
building, probably serving as a granary. It was lighted by a
pane of giass at each end, and we mounted to it by a sort of
ladder. Beds were spread on the floor of this garret and thirty
of us slept in it. It was one of the hottest summers ever known.
There was a good room below, where our jubilarians, a lay Sister
and the young ladies, were accommodated. The four Reverend
Fathers had their lodgings in an outhouse. We had the use of
the kitchen ; our own Sisters cooked for us. Not far from the
house was a large barn divided into compartments.
" We turned the largest of these compartments into both
refectory and choir, while planks of wood, raised on straw,
served for seats, with one table at the top for Superiors and
Priests. The others kept their plates on their knees, one plate
serving for two persons. There was a well-floored little granary,
then empty, which opened into our choir, which we turned into
chapel and confessional, and we had Masses there every morning.
We said our Office regularly in this barn, and we were frequently
visited at the end of Lauds by the cows coming into the yard to
be milked. They stared at our choir in amazement, and one day
they began to take a walk down the middle, at the Benedictus.
Some of our nuns took fright and ran away, and we had to finish
each one by herself. We worked and kept school in the fields,
but the farmer's wife would allow no one to be out after 8 o'clock,
and very strictly locked us up, as all her people rose at four in
the morning.
" Besides the suffocating heat, we suffered a martyrdom from
gnats in the garret, on account of which many seceded from the
rest, preferring to lie on clean straw in the open barn. During our
stay in this place, printed calico was purchased for secular dresses,
and a coup.e of tailors from Sluys were hired to help us make
them. The dress was a loose gown tied round the neck, a string
being run through the middle so that it could be drawn to fit
anybody. Long, loose sleeves were added, and a coloured cotton
shawl completed the costume. On the 26th of June, Mr.
Mercken came from Bruges to inform us that the French had

252 APPENDIX.

taken possession of that town. He brought with him one of
their lying manifestoes, by which freedom of religion and all its
privileges were guaranteed. He advised us to return, and said
he should not emigrate ; but we were not even tempted to follow
his advice. Our Abbess, Mother Gertrude Weld, expressed our
gratitude for the kind and invaluable services he had rendered
us, and he took leave.
" It was now resolved to set sail with the next day's high tide,
which the captain said would be at noon, and the rest of that day
was spent in preparations for the voyage. Accounts were settled
with the good woman, and the secular dresses distributed. All
retired to rest as usual, when in our first sleep we were roused
by the captain, who said the tide served and he must sail imme
diately. This put us all into confusion and sadly distressed us,
especially on account of our poor old nuns, who though taken to
the coast in some sort of vehicle, were ill-fitted for the jolting
they received.
" It was a dark night, and a walk of a mile, loaded as we were,
was certainly most unpleasant. But behold ! no sooner were we
all on board, than the captain went to bed, and the mate told us
he was drunk, and there was no question of sailing until noon.
Of course we were much annoyed ; however, to make the best
of it,; as soon as it was light, several of us went back to the farm,
lighted a fire, and prepared a breakfast in the barn for any who
would walk a mile to get it. All who were able did so, and we
sent as much of it as we cou'.d to the ship. Many httle things
which in the night's confusion were left behind, were now secured.
We all got on board by twelve o'clock, and just as we were about
to set sail, a most heartrending scene occurred. Our poor faithful
gardener, James Goethals, knowing that we should be distressed
for the linen which we had sent to be washed, procured a cart
into which he put the linen, dripping wet, and drove with all
speed through the French guard, at the risk of being arrested.
He arrived at the side of the vessel in an agony of grief, wringing
his hands, while we all wept with him. The scene is indescrib
able. No one who witnessed this sad farewell can ever forget it.
Here I miist beg leave to make a little digression. This faithful
servant kept all his savings in the cottage where he lived ; but
thieves broke in and rifled him of all he was worth, so that in his
old age, seeing no prospect of our return, he considered himself
reduced to poverty. This calamity drove him mad. In vain we
sent to assure him of a maintenance for life ; he was incapable of
comfort, and did not long survive. To return to our vessel. It
was miserably small. The hold, being empty, was turned into our
sleeping room, and it was so crowded that we lay close to each
other on the floor. We never lost sight of land, but wriggled

APPENDIX. 253

along between all those small islands which lie off the coast of
Holland. On the second day we descried a shipload of nuns in
our rear. They were our neighbours, the English Augustinians,
from Bruges. Three days and nights passed before we arrived
at Rotterdam, on the morning of SS. Peter and Paul. We went
on shore in small parties with our Reverend Fathers to hear their
Masses, and Reverend Mother Abbess and Sister Mechtilda
Plowden went on to Delft to procure a house. The community
remained all day on deck in a scorching sun, or nearly suffocated
with heat in the hold — hundreds of people standing on the shore
staring with wide-open mouths. It was not like an English, or
Flemish, or French crowd or mob. These Dutchmen were
neither civil nor rude, kind nor unkind, merry nor sad, but they
stood silently gaping. As it was Sunday they had nothing else
to do. A parson and his wife came on board and seemed really
full of compassion. Dame Mary Ann Rayment and another of
the Benedictines from Brussels visited us. Shortly afterwards
they sailed by the packet boat to England. A very good and
spacious house was hired in Delft, and on the 30th of June we
sailed up the canal. However, there was no room large enough
to keep choir ; and we were obliged to ask permission of the
clerg)' of that mission to have a room allotted for a private chapel,
and to have Mass celebrated there. Even when they consented,
they requested that the nuns would come to church on Sundays ;
the Cathohcs, they said, would otherwise be scandalized. We
satisfied the good missioners by some of us always going to Mass
in a party on Sundays. We were no longer crowded, but more
comfortably accommodated than since we left our convent. A
lew boards served for tables and benches for our dining room, and
in other rooms we sat upon bales and trunks ; but we hired a few
chairs and a table for the room where our four younj ladies
s'ept with their mistress, as we kept school regularly. We had
neither court nor garden, but there was a flat roof at the top of
the house where we cou'd take the air; but the unpleasant
exposure to the town made very few avail themselves of it, and
none of us could make up our minds to walk in the streets,
we were so stared at. The canal, which ran through the street,
as usual in Holland, passed close to us ; the pumps were upon it
and the sewers ran into it, which made it unwholesome.
" In the meantime the French armies had rapidly overrun the
Netheriands, and we had the melancholy sight of vesse's of all
kinds passing under our windows, crowded with distressed
French emigrant families, and priests going, like ourselves, they
knew not whither. One day two French gentlemen rang at our
door to inquire for lodgings. They were surprised to find the
house full of English nuns, and to their still greater surprise they

254 APPENDIX.

discovered thatwe were thosewho had received into our community
their sister, Mfere Dufour, and the meeting with her was affecting.
A year or two later the poor soul learned that her sisters and
brothers-in-law had been guillotined. The Ladies Mary and Lucy
Stuart also found us out, and visited us. Mr. Blount, an EngUsh
merchant at Rotterdam, having an acquaintance among our
nuns, called, and offered to do anything to serve us, and he did
assist Father Grafton in finding a ship to convey us to England.
Our afflicted abbess was all anxiety to have a letter from her
cousin, Mr. Weld, of Luhvorth, whose two daughters wore with
us, one as novice, the other being a pupil in our school. She had
written immediately to inform hiiu of our emigration, and where
we were, and was hurt at not having a speedy reply and his
advice in our distress. At last she received a most kind and
consoling letter. He informed her that when he received the
account of her having left Prinsenhof, the King was at Wey
mouth, and that, when he went there to pay his respects, His
iNtajesty asked him, with great interest, what had become of the
English communides in the Low Countries, inquiring especially
after that convent in which his daughter was a novice. Mr. Weld
described their situation, and told him that they knew not where to
take refuge. The King immediately desired that he would tell us
to come to England, and he would take care we were not molested,
adding, quite of his own accord, ' Tell them to bring their church
vestments, breviaries, and such like, and I will give orders that
they shall pass the Custom-house.' His Majesty recollected
that by law these things were condemned to the flames, and ho
made Mr. Weld give him the names of all the Superiors of the
English communities. Mr. Weld had then to consider where
we could be placed, and before he would write, he went to
Winchester, where, by persuading two or three emigrant families
to go out of it, he secured the hire of the Abbey house, but was of
course obliged to leave these families time to find lodgings else
where. In order, therefore, to enable us to come over without
delay, he induced Mr. R. Gillow to let us a large furnished house
in North Audley Street, London. This news was a great relief to
our abbess ; yet we still had such a reluctance to the idea of a
settlement in England, which seemed very different to an estabUsh-
ment in a Catholic country, that we still buoyed ourselves up
with the vain hope of our future return to Prinsenhof. However,
immediate preparations were made. Tailors were employed to
make each of us a dress of black cashmere like a close great-coat,
with a cape, and we had a stock of caps, and white muslin hand
kerchiefs. Meantime, Father Grafton in his sundry excursions to
Rotterdam to charter a ship, met Father Roberts and several of
our friars from Tongres, to their mutual delight, and brought

APPENDIX. 255

them back with him to Delft. We gave them a hearty welcome,
lodged them in the spare garret, and agreed to take them with us
to England. Another day, he met a good little Teresian nun
from Antwerp, who had stayed behind when her community
went off, to dispose of some of their property. He conducted
her to us likewise, and we brought her with us to London, where
she joined her own nuns. Father Grafton also found that all the
nuns from Liege had arrived in the river at Rotterdam, in their
full religious dress, and that the Dutch Calvinists would not allow
them to land in that costume. Our Mother Abbess and Sister
Mechtilda Plowden paid them a friendly visit, and were grieved
to see them suffering much inconvenience from being on barks
lashed together, without even the accommodation we had. They
persuaded Reverend Mother Clough to get dresses made like
ours, which she immediately did.
" After some difficulty, Father Grafton met with an English
brig with two masts, which had brought coals from Sunderland,
and which was about to return empty. He engaged the Captain
to get the hold, where coals had been stored, matted up to the top,
and a division boarded off for the Fathers. There was a nice
cabin which served for our jubilarians, a lay Sister and the
Captain's daughter, a girl of fifteen whom he had brought with
him a sea voyage having been prescribed for her. An agreement
was made to take all our community, and the Reverend Fathers
who were then with us, for one hundred guineas. The haven is
three miles from Delft, and we were conveyed there down the canal
in a Dutch trekschuite. These are pretty little light vessels, well
accommodated, which are towed along by horses on the side path.
We set off on the 23rd of July, and, the day being fine, some of the
younger nuns preferred walking and were put on shore. But the
walking road did not agree with the track of the canal, so that
they could not regain the vessel, and, a heavy storm of rain coming
one, they were Uterally wet through before they got to the inn,
where the rest had halted, while the trunks, bales, and beds were
taken to the ship. Father Grafton insisted on their drinking a
glass of spirits and water to prevent their taking cold, for there
was no chance of changing their clothes. None had that comfort for
the next fortnight. In an hour we were sumunoned to go on board.
It was low water ; the ship could not come close, so we had to
walk over a plank from the shore to our vessel. Poor Venerable
Mother Catharine Dormer thought it impossible, and stood
hesitating, when Reverend Father Macdonell said in a quick, firm
tone 'You can do it if you will, dear Mother,' which so surprised
and electrified her, that she crossed over without another thought.
Mother Barbara Webbe was carried by the sailors in their arms.
The next day and following night we were, however, wind-bound,

256 APPENDIX.

and just as the wind was getting up, we discovered a vessel making
towards us and coming alongside. On board this ship were the
remainder of our Fathers, who had come through Germany from
Tongres, and a good and kind Providence had not allowed us to
sail until their arrival. According to the stipulations made with
the captain, these were paid for separately at two guineas a
head. " The crew consisted of the proprietor of the vessel, as passenger,
the Captain, two sailors, and the Captain's daughter. We
supposed them to be Methodists; they were well conducted and
civil men, not even quarrelsome with one another, and during
the fifteen days they were never heard to swear ; the Captain did
so only once, in a passion, when another ship ran up against
us. He often sent us to pray for fine weather and fair wind ; but
as it did not come the moment we began, he would bawl out to
us to stop, for we only made matters worse. Nevertheless, the
man had a good heart, and some years later, having made a
voyage to Southampton with coal, he came to see us at Winchester,
and told us that the ship we had come over in had been taken in
its next voyage by the French. At last we sailed, and flattered
ourselves that in five days at most, we should be at the end of
our voyage ; but we were again becalmed off Helvoetsluys, and,
tired of lying at anchor, a party of us got leave to go on shore
in order to take a walk in the country, and our good Abbess gave
us wherewithal to procure some little refreshment. The party
had a very pleasant stroll, stopping at two farm-houses. Our
Reverend Father assured us that we should have to pay for every
mile, and in effect the woman charged us more than we had ;
so mustering up all the Dutch words we could think of, with the
addition of signs, we made her understand that we would pay her
the next day, if the ship had not sailed. In fact, she yas very
well paid. We took an enormous jug of milk back to our boat,
but our poor Sisters never tasted it, for it was overturned in the
boat, just as we were setting out. At length the wind rose, and
we soon sailed into the open sea, when we all became more or
less sea-sick. We had frequent calms and contrary winds, and
made but slow progress. They told us it was partly owing to the
ship's ballast not being sufficiently heavy.
" The way down into the hold was by a very long ladder, where
it was just light enough to say our Office and read ; for the opening
to the deck above was large. Of course, in rainy weather we
could find shelter beyond the opening. One day cannonading
was heard at a distance, and the captain explained that he had
feared we might meet with a French cruiser, and had steered out
of his track to avoid it. M'hen we got over against Harwich,
Mother Abbess sent on shore Sister Ann Monnington, who had

APPENDIX. 257

been very sea-sick. Sister Mary Rowe, and Sister Sales Weld,
under the care of Brother PhiUp, and they proceeded by the public
coach to London. From Plarwich the Custom-house officers
came on board to see that nothing was taken away without
examination, and they remained with us until we reached
London. The day we sailed into the mouth of the Thames was
the roughest we had experienced. Early on the 7th of August,
we had the comfort of changing our clothes, and then put on
our black dresses and prepared for landing in the course of the
day, expecting to do so at the Custom-house. However, we
presently saw a boat coming towards us. Mr. Charles Butler
had kindly sent a Mr. Palmer, his clerk, to meet us off Greenwich.
He informed us of his errand, and about eighteen of us accepted
his invitation to land there. He had an excellent breakfast in
readiriess at the inn, and had engaged a long coach to take us
to London.
" We started as soon as possible, and arrived at Charing Cross
just as the hackney coaches came on the stand. Mr. Palmer made
as many of them as we needed drive up to the door of the long
coach, and we got out of one into the other without setting foot
on the ground, or being seen by the people, and drove to the
house in North Audley Street, where our Sisters had arrived three
days before us, and were all anxiety at our long delay. The nuns
we had left off Greenwich arrived with our two Reverend Fathers
and the two French priests the same evening. The other Fathers
and Brothers of our province procured lodgings for themselves.
The next morning Father Grafton, Sister Chantal Howse, and
Sister M. Austin Hutton went to the Custom-house to see to the
landing and examination of our goods, and observed how cleverly
and secretly the King had managed for the religious communities.
Only the head officer knew of his Majesty's orders. A sort of
examination took place, and when he sent the men out of the
room with the bales and trunks he had examined, he inquired
which were the ones containing church vestments, breviaries, etc.,
and when the men returned, he pretended that he had examined
those trunks, and ordered them to be carried away. As the order
only regarded suchlike things, there was a demur about the ticking
of the beds, whether they were English or foreign ; if foreign there
was a duty to pay. One of the Sisters, who thought they had
belonged to Mrs. Simeon Weld, and were really English (which was
the fact), made no difficulty in asserting that, to the best of her
knowledge, they were English. Thus aU difficulties at the Custom
house were settled, and our goods brought to North Audley Street.
The house was large, and contained a long saloon, which served
for a chapel, where we had Mass and on the Feast of St. Laurence,
August loth, the happiness of receiving Holy Communion, of which
S

258 APPENDIX.
we had been deprived nearly a month. Mr. Weld sent Father
Charles Plowden, S. J., to meet us in London, to see that we were
not dressed as figures to frighten the crows. He was fairly well
satisfied with our costumCj and only ordered us to wear black
silk bonnets instead of hoods. After a few days he took the
Abbess Mother Gertrude Weld, Sister Mechtilda Plowden, Sister
Sales Weld, and Miss C. Weld to Lulworth, in Mr. Weld's travel
ling carriage. A week before the community left London,
two of the nuns with three lay Sisters were sent to Winchester to
receive the goods despatched in waggons, and to unpack, in prepara
tion for the arrival of the rest. For the first two days they heard
Mass in the chapel of Dr. Milner, who afterwards became Bishop.
By the third day, a room had been turned into a chapel, and they
had no need to go beyond the premises. On the 27th and 28th of
August, the remaining Sisters in London, with our Reverend
Fathers, went down to Winchester in a long coach. At the
particular request of Dr. Milner, all stopped at his house to see
his new Gothic church, the first Cathohc church built in England
since the Reformation. On the 31st of August, the Divine Office
was resumed in our choir, in a miserable little chapel, very low,
twenty feet square, and very hot, as it was over the kitchen, an
arrangement anything but comfortable. The Abbey house, in
which we were now settled, was so called from its having been built
on part of the ground on which an abbey had been founded by
King Alfred. It was a modern building widi three acres of land
round it, through part of which a pathway of sufferance, most
inconvenient to the nuns, was allowed to run. This pathway was
open from six in the morning till six in the evening. As Mr. Weld
was very kindly anxious to see us well accommodated, he made
several additions to the house, which enabled us to have a roomy
chapel and refectory, and he engaged to pay the rent, which
amounted to 100/. a year. Mrs. Weld was also full of kindness,
and soon brought back her daughter Catharine Weld to school.
Shortly afterwards, we received several other pupils, but it was
found impossible to accommodate them in the Abbey house;
therefore a house was hired in the vicinity of the convent for a
school. Sister Mechtilda Plowden and Sister Frances Teresa Bird
were, in consequence, obliged to live entirely with them— a most
painful necessity. We now had our blue habits which we wore in
Belgium, dyed black, as Mr. Weld considered that they would
thus attract less observation, and we resumed our rehgious dress
on the 7 th September. Thus ended the eventful year of 1794.
" It had been replete with sacrifices, and also with special
blessings from Divine Providence. Such a removal could not be
effected without much suffering, but, although we had lost our
beloved convent, we still kept together, observing our rule as far

APPENDIX.

259

as circumstances allowed, being in this respect better off than so
many others during these sad times ; and although deprived of the
local advantages which contribute so much to regular observance,
we all trusted that the goodness of God would order things for
our spiritual welfare, at the time appointed by His wisdom. Nor
were we disappointed in our hopes. After we had been eleven
years at Winchester, Father Peter Colingridge was made Provin
cial. One of the first acts of his superiority was to insist on our
building, or removal. There were reasons enough to cause him
to give the order : the total separation of the school, which almost
deprived the mistresses of the advantages of community life ; the
want of cells ; the right of way, which left no- means of inclosure,
and which was in itself an obstacle to any permanent settlement.
Our Abbess had to inform Mr. Weld of these orders, in conse
quence of which he was much displeased. He said that the
time for a removal had not yet come, and that it would be utter
ruin to us. He also felt the arbitrary way, as it seemed to him,
in which we were taken from under his protection ; but certainly
this was far from the intention of the Provincial. Our dear
Mother was sadly distressed, as she had no friend to look to but
Mr. Weld ; yet casting her care on God, she resolved to obey,
and told the Provincial that the removal should take place as
soon as a house could be found. At this juncture, two gentlemen
came forward : Sir Thomas Gage offered Hengrave Hall, and Mr.
Edward Plowden proposed Plowden ; but these places could only
be lent to us. At last Mr. Knight, of Cannington, informed us of
a house near Taunton, in a very healthy situation, and begged
Mother Abbess to go to him, and he would take her to see it.
Mr. Weld, who had not been offended with us, but only with our
Fathers, insisted on the Abbess going to Lulworth, on her way to
Taunton and back. He was all kindness, sending his carriage to
meet her and the Sisters who accompanied her, treating them
Uke a father, as he truly was; but he would give them no
encouragement. I'he house at Taunton satisfied our Abbess as
far as it went, but she saw that much building would be necessary.
She however made the purchase and directed that a new wing
should be immediately commenced for the school. This wing
was ready the following year, and the young ladies removed
thither with the mistresses. Mr. Weld soon afterwards brought
his daughter Clare as a pupil. He went all over the premises,
liked the place and situation, and approved of everything, to the
great comfort of our Abbess. He gave her 100/. to begin the
chapel, and advised us to open a subscription among our friends.
Mr. Constable, of Burton Constable, helped us most generously ;
we had his little daughter in our school, and all our friends came
forward. Mr. Weld and his family closed the subscription with

26o APPENDIX.

550/. A few days before his death at Stonyhurst, he expressed to
Father Plowden his entire satisfaction at our removal to Taunton,
having noticed the progress of our new establishment, so tliat
he now perceived Divine .Providence had ordained it, and he
felt convinced that the blessing of God would always be on it.
" Should future trials come, the retrospect of God's protection
in years gone by, will encourage those who come after us to rely
on His loving care, of whom the holy Prophet says : ' The eyes of
the Lord are upon the just, and His ears hearken unto their prayers.
Behold, the eyes of the Lord are on them that fear Him, and on them
that hope in His mercy, to deliver their souls from death, and
feed them in famine.
Because he hoped in Me I will deliver him : I will protect
him, because he hath known My name. He shall cr)- to Mt, and
I will hear him : I am with him in tribulation. I will deliver
him, and I will glorify him. I will fill him with length of days ;
and I will show him My salvation.'"
(Psalms xxxiii. 16; xxxii. 18, 19; xc. 14, 15, 16.)

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