BR 1600 .F62 1S24 Foxe, John, 1516-1587. An universal history of Christian martyrdom ►'^A Si « /O'.liJ^ i-'O vi o\. ///.-r r.fr^,',??-^ &3 a^i^'^h^^^i^ "^ UN I V ER s ^biasreif Y OF CHRISTIAN MARTYRDOM: BEIVG A COMPLETE AND AUTHENTIC ACCOUNT OF THE LIVES, SUFFERINGS, AND TRIUMPHANT DEATHS OF THE Priixiitive as well as Protestant IN ALL PARTS OF THE WORLD, FnOM THE BIRTH OF OUR BLESSED SAVIOUR, TO THE LATEST PERIODS OF PAGAN AND POPISH PERSECUTION. ORIGINALLY COMPOSED BT THE REV. JOHN FOX, M.A. AND NOW CORRECTED THROUGHOUX, WTTH COPIOOS AND IMPORTANT ADDITIONS RELATIVE TO THE RECENT Pertfecutton? of t^^e Prote^tantji fn t^c otttl& of jFrance. EMBELLISHED WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS. ILontion : PRINTED FOR SHERWOOD, JONES. AND CO. PATFRNOSTER-ROW. ,^^^V •• ^^-^.:r '■ v-v ^v\ Jv r;. Barnard, Skinner-street, London. PREFACE. XjLT a period when the fears of every reHectiug Protestant are justly exciteil by the unceasing' efforts of the Papists to extend their belief throughout tlie kingdom, and to obtain what they term Emancipation, but which in reality means the power of overthrowing- all those sacred Institutions to esta- blish which our Ancestors bled on the Scaffold, and expired at the Stake ; and when many of tnose avIio might be expected to defend the Church against her insidious enemies, have ranged themselves under the banners of those enemies; and, from a base affectation of liberality, or a criminal indifference to reli- gion itself, lend their voices to augment the ungrateful clamour which complains, however groundlessly, of oppression: — at such a period, it is incumbent on every well-wisher to ge- nuilie Christianity, to give some "evidence of the faith that is in him" — to testify his attachment to the pure and holy religion which he professes, by a strict performance of the duties which it enjoins : and the Proprietors and Editors of the present volume are persuaded that they could not have better fulfilled their share of those duties, so far as respects that portion of their Fellow-Christians whose circumstances preclude them from the purchase of expensive Books, than by presenting them with a cheap and improved Edition of the inestimable Work now submitted to their notice; a Work, which, by laying' before them the horrible cruelties practised under the auspices of Popery, forms the best antidote to the insidious poison attempted to be infused into their minds by the professors of that doctrine, and by their self-styled liberal ?ibeitors in many of the public journals. It is useless to argue that the persecuting spirit of Popery has passed away — Persecution is inseparable from Popery — it is its very essence. A Church which pretends U) be in- fallible, will always seek the destruction of those wl'.o dissent from it; and as a proof that its spirit is uncJiafirjed ani] tinchanqe- able, we may refer to the recent persecutions in the South of France, of which a particular account will be found in this Volume. What, then, have we to expect, should we weakly g-ive way to the importunity of those who, unthai*kful for the to- leration which has already granted to them every privilege, but A 2 iv PREFACE. that of renewing the persecutions wl)ith always have and always wiil distinguisli their ascendency, demand that privilege also? What but a renewal of the bunungs, and hangings, and tortur- ings, and plunderings, which have affixed an indelible disgrace on the periods of Popish power in this country ? In preparing the present Edition lor the press, the greatest diligence has been used in collecting from various sources the best information on the subjects of which it treats. Well aware how difficult it is to fix attention by a tedious account of theolo- gical disputations; we have excluded the detail, while we have carefully preserved the spirit, of those controversies which had for their object the establishment of truth, or the refutation of error. The language, which had been corrupted and barba- rized in successive impressions, has, in this, been corrected and polished; and, we trust, we may say, without the imputation of vanity, that it is, in all respects, better worthy of a place in the library of every Protestant family in the kingdom, than any of its predecessors. Indeed, if the unexampled patronage of the public be a proof of the excellence of a work, our's must rank high indeed; to state the real number of the weekly circu- lation would look like exaggeration; we shall therefore mt- rely say, that while it exceeded our most sanguine hopes, it gratified our warmest wishes, by demonstrating that there still exists a truly Protestant spirit among our countrymen — and while this spirit survives, we know that they can never become the dupes of Popery and its abettors. But public patronage is not the only testimonial of our useful- ness which we have received: but a few weeks had elapsed from our first publication, when the enemies of the Protestant religion, alarmed at the sensation created by our work, set their^ usual engines in motion, and announced a " Review" of what they are pleased to term " Fox's Book of Lies." Accordingly, in due time, this notable performance made its appearance ; and although it is, as might be expected, a mass of vulgar abuse, gross perversion, barefaced falsehoods, and unsupported asser- tions, yet, such is the influence exercised by the Popish priests over the deluded and ignorant creatures whom they pretend to teach, that the jjublication still continues, and a sufficient number are disposed of to defray the expenses, and to pay the wages of the miserable hack who puts together this farrago of trash, des- tined (as he modestly says) to enlighlen the Catholic world! It may naturally be inquired, If this book be so utterly un- worthy, how does it meet with purchasers? To this we reply. Those who purchase it, are compelled to do so; it is a kind of act of /aith, enjoined by the priests, and, of course, submitted to by their flocks, with the same willingness (though with less pleasure) as they would, had they the power, perform a real, PREFACE. ▼ Inquisitorial Auto da Fe, in which the Editors of the Book of Martyrs should be consij^ned to the flames, amidst the savae^e yellings of the bigoted and infuriated multitude! That the sale of the " Review" among these poor creatures arises from a no- tion of its being necessary for the preservation of their souls from purgatory, and not from any possibility of amusement or instruction to be derived from its perusal, is evident from the fact, that three-fourths of its '• enlifjhtcnecV purchasers are not sufficiently skilful to recidM; and of the remaining fourth, if ten persons were to come forward and swear that they had read this erudite performance through, we should certainly suspect that the dispensing power of his " Holiness" had been exerted to relieve their consciences from the guilt of perjury. We have ourselves tried to wade through it, and are confident that it would be al- most impossible to persevere through two pages, such is the so- porific duhiess of the matter, were it not that the attention is ever and anon aroused by a daring excursion beyond the bounds of truth, or, to speak in plain terms, a shameless and outrageous falsehood! Sincerely do we pity those, who can be imposed on by so gross an imposture; and we consider ourselves, and the cause we have espoused, doubly honoured by this attack; for while the abuse and impotent malignity levelled at our work, from such a quarter, is its highest eulogium, the countenance afforded to our adversary by the Papists, is the best proof of the veracity of our assertions as to the ignorance and besotted bigotry of the present, as well as former, professors of that belief. This is the first and last notice v. e shall ever take of this work, although we are personally abused in almost every one of its pages. The intolerant and malignant spirit displayed through- out the whole, should be an additional inducement to Protestants to guard against the possibility of power being intrusted to such persons as the patrons of the "Reviciv:'" If the work of perse- cution were to do again, if the fires of Smithfield were to be re- lighted, never could filter agents be employed than those per- sons: the savage fury displayed in the anonymous letters which we have received from some of the faction, v.ants but ability, to re-enact the horrors of the sixteenth ceritury. Let us, therefore, by all legal means, withhold this ability ; let us never surrender the outworks erected by the wisdom and foresight of our ances- tors, to defend the citadel of the faith ; for, if we do, we shall assuredly lament, when too late to remedy it, the too generous confidence which allowed an insidious but irreconcileable enemy, to possess himself of the sword, and to turn it against the breast of his defenceless victim ! August 14, 1834. THE LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN FOX. t." OHN FOX was born at Boston, in Lincolnshire, in 1517, where his parents are stated to have lived in respectable circumstances. He was deprived of his father at an early age ; and notwithstanding his mother soon married again, he still remained under the paternal roof. From an early display of talents and inclination to learning, his friends were induced to send him to Oxford, in order to cultivate and bring them to maturity. During his residence at this place, he was distin- guished for the excellence and acuteness of his intellect, which was im- proved by the emulation of his fellow-collegians, united to an indefa- tigable zeal and industry on his part. These qualities soon gained him the admiration of all; and as a reward for his exertions and amiable conduct, he was chosen fellow of Magdalen college; which was ac- counted a great honour in the university, and seldom bestowed unless in cases of great distinction. It appears that the first display of his ge- nius was in poetry ; and that he composed some Latin comedies, which are still extant. But he soon directed his thoughts to a more serious subject, the study of the sacred Scriptures : to divinity, indeed, he ap- plied himself with more fervency than circumspection, and discovered his partiality to the Reformation, Avhich had then commenced, before he was known to its supporters or to those who protected them ; a cir- cumstance which proved to him the source of his first troubles. He is said to have often affirmed, that the first matter which occa- sioned his search into the popish doctrine, was, that he saw diver.s things, most repugnant in their nature to one another, forced upon men at the same time : upon this foundation his resolution and intended obe- dience to that church were somewhat shaken, and by degrees a dislike to the rest took place. His first care was to look into both the ancient and modern history of the church ; to ascertain its beginning and progress ; to consider the causes of all those controversies which in the mean'ime had sprung up, and diligently to weigh their eflects, solidity, infirmities, &c. Before he had attained his thirtieth year, he had studied the Greek and Latin fathers, and other learned authors, the transactions of the councils, and decrees of the consistories, and had acquired a very com- j)elent skill in the Hebrew language. In these occupations he frequently spent a considerable part, or even the whole of the night; and in order to unbend his mind after such incessant study, he would resort to a grove near the college, a place much frequented by the students in the pv«iing, on account of its sequestered gloominess. In these solitary LIFE OF TJIE REV. JOHN FOX. vii walks he has been heard to ejaculate heavy sobs and sighs, and with tears to pour forth his prayers to God. These nightly retirements, in the sequel, gave rise to the first suspicion of his alienation from the church of Rome. Being pressed for an explanation of this alteration in his conduct, he scorned to call in fiction to his excuse ; he stated his opinions ; and was, by the sentence of the college, convicted, condemned as an heretic, and expelled. His friends, upon the report of this circumstance, were highly of- fended, and especially his father-in-law, who was now grown altoge- ther implacable, either through a real hatred conceived against him tor this cause, or pretending himself aggrieved, that he might now, with more show of justice, or at least with more security, withhold from Mr. Fox his paternal estate; for he knew it could not be safe for one pub- licly hated, and in danger of the law, to seek a remedy for his injus- tice. When he was thus forsaken by his own friends, a refuge offered itself in the house of sir Thomas Lucy, of Warwickshire, by whom he was sent for, to instruct his children. In this house he afterwards mar- ried. But the fear of the popish inquisitors hastened his departure thence ; as they were not contented to pursue public offences, but be- gan also to dive into the secrets of private families. He now began to consider what was best to be done to free himself from further in- convenience, and resolved either to go to his wife's father, or to his fa- ther-in-law. His wife's father was a citizen of Coventry, whose heart was not aliena>ted from him, and he was more likely to be well entreated, for his daughter's sake. He resolved to go first to him; and, in the mean- while, by letters, to try whether his father-in-law would receive him or not. This he accordingly did, and he received for answer, " that it seemed to him a hard condition to take one into his house whom he knew to be guilty, and condemned for a capital offence : neither was he ignorant what hazard he should undergo in so doing: he would, how- ever, shew himself a kinsman, and neglect his own danger. If he would alter his mind, he might come, on condition to stay as long as he himself desired : but if he could not be persuaded to that, he must con- tent himself with a shorter stay, and not bring him and his mother into danger." No condition was to be refused; besides, he was secredy advised by his mother to come, and not to fear his father-in-law's severity; " for that^ perchance, it was needful to write as he did, but when occasion should be offered, he would make recompense for his words with his actions." In fact, he was belter received by both of them than he had hoped for. By these means he kept himself concealed, for some time, and after- wards made a journey to London, in the latter part of the reign of Henry VHI. Here, being unknown, he was in much distress, and was even reduced to the danger of being starved to death, had not Providence interfered in his favour, in the following manner: One day as Mr. Fox was sitting in St. Paul's church, exhausted with long fasting, a stranger took a seat by his side, and courteously saluting aa LIFIS OF THE REV. JOHN FOX. hiiri, thrust a sum of monty into his hand, and bade him cheer up his spirits; at the same time informing him, that in a few days new pros- pects would present themselves for his future subsistence. Who this stranger was, he could never learn ; but at the end of three days, he received an invitation from the duchess of Richmond to undertake the tuition of the children of the earl of Surrey, who, together with his father the duke of Norfolk, was imprisoned in the Tower, by the jealousy and in- gratitude of the king. The children thus confided to his care were, Tho- mas, who succeeded to the dukedom ; Henry, afterwards earl of Nor- thampton ; and Jane, who became countess of Westmoreland. In the performance of his duties he fully satisfied the expectations of the duchess, their aunt. These halcyon days continued during the latter part of the reign of Henry VHI. and the five years of the reign of Edward VI. till Mary came to the crown, who, soon after her accession, gave all power into the hands of the papists. At this time Mr. Fox, who was still under the protection of his noble pupil, the duke, began to excite the envy and liatred of many, particularly Dr. Gardiner, then bishop of Winchester, who, in the sequel, became his most violent enemy. Mr. Fox, aware of this, and seeing the dreadful persecutions then commencing, began to think of quitting the kingdom. As soon as the duke knew his intention, he endeavoured to persuade him to remain; and his arguments were so powerful, and given with so much sincerity, that he gave up the thought of -dbandoning his asylum for the present. At that time the bishop of Winchester was very intimate with the duke, (by the patronage of whose family he had risen to the dignity he then enjoyed), and frequently waited on him to present his service; when he several times requested that he might see his old tutor. At first the duke denied his request, at one time alleging his absence, at another, indisposition. At length it happened that Mr. B^ox, not know- ing the bishop was in the house, entered the room where the duke and he were in discourse; and seeing the bishop, withdrew. Gardiner ask- ing who that was, the duke answered " his physician, who was some- what uncourtly, as being new come from the university." — " I like his countenance and aspect very well." replied the bishop, " and when occasion offers, I will send for him." The duke understood that speech as the messenger of some approaching danger; and now he him- self thought it high time for Mr. Fox to quit the city, and even the country. He accordingly caused every thing necessary for his flight to be provided in silence, by sending one of his servants to Ipswich to hire a bark, and prepare all the requisites for his departure. He also fixed upon the house of one of his servants, who was a farmer, where he might lodge till the wind became favotuable; and every thing being in readiness, Mr. Fox took leave of his noble patron, and with H^ wife, who was pregnant at the time, secretly departed for the ship. The vessel was scarcely luider sail, when a most violent storm came on, which lasted all day and night, and the next day drove them back to the port from which they had departed. During the time that the vessel had been at sea, an officer, dispatched by the bishop of Win- LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN FOX. ik Chester, had broken open the hou^e of the farmer, witii a warrant to apprehend Mr. Fox wherever he might be fouad, and bring him back to the city. On hearing this news, he hired a horse under the pretence of leaving the town immediately ; but secretly returned the same n'\"-[\\ and agreed with the captain of the vessel to sail for any place as soon as the wind should shift, only desiring him to proceed, and not to doubt but that God would prosper his undertaking. The mariner suffered himself to be persuaded, and within two days landed his passengers in safety at Nieu- port. After spending a few days at that place, Mr. Fox set out for Basle where he found a number of English rc>fugees, who had quitted their country to avoid the cruelty of the persecutors ; widi these he asso- ciated, and began to write his " History of the Acts and Monuments of the Church," which was first published in Latin at Basle, and shortly- after in English. In the mean time the reformed religion began again to flourish in England, and the popish faction much to decline, by the death of queen Mary ; which induced the greater number of the protestant exiles to return to their native country. Among others, on the accession of Elizabeth to the tlirone, Mr. FoK returned to England; where, on his arrival, he found a faithful and ac- tive friend in his late pupil, the duke of Norfolk, till death deprived him of his benefactor: after which event, Mr. Fox inherited a pension bequeathed to him by the duke, and ratified by his son the earl of Suf- folk. Nor did the good man's succe.sses stop here. On being recom- mended to the queen, by her secretary of state, the great Cecil, her ma- jesty granted him the prebendary of Shipton, in the cathedral of Sa- lisbury, which was, in a manner, forced upon him; for it was with dif- ficulty that he could be persuaded to accept of it. On his re-Settlement in England, he employed himself in revising- and enlarging his admirable Martyrology. With prodigious paina, and constant study, he completed that celebrated work in eleven years. For the sake of greater correctness, he wrote every line of this vast book with his own hand, and transcribed all the records and papers himself. But, in consequence of such excessive toil, leaving no part of his time free from study, nor aflbrding himself either the repose or re- creation which nature required, his health was so reduced, and his per- son became so emaciated and altered, that such of his friends and rela- tions, as only conversed with him occasionally, could scarcely recognise his person. Yet, though he grew daily more exhausted, he proceeded in his studies as briskly as ever, nor would he be persuaded to diminish his ac- customed labours. — The papists, foreseeing how detrimental his history of their errors and cruelties would prove to their cause, had recourse to every artifice to lessen the reputation of his work; but their malice was of signal service, both to Mr. Fox himself, and to the church of God at large, as it eventually made his book more intrinsically valuable, by in- ducing him to weigh, with the most scrupulous attention, the certainty of the facts which he recorded, and the validity of the authorities from which he drew his information. X LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN FOX. Bat while he was thus indefatigably employed in promoting the cause of truth, he did not neglect the other duties of his station : he was charitable, humane, and attentive to the wants both spiritual and temporal, of his neighbours. With the view of being more extensively useful, although he had no desire to cultivate the acquaintance of the rich and great on his own account, he did not decline the friendship of those in a higher rank who proffered it, and never failed to employ his influence with them in behalf of the poor and needy. In consequence of his well-known probity and charity, he was frequently presented with sums of money by persons possessed of wealth, which he ac- cepted and distributed among those who were distressed. He would also occasionally attend the table of his friends, not so much for the sake of pleasure, as from civility, and to convince them that his absence was not occasioned by a fear of being exposed to the temptations of the appetite. In short, his character, as a man and as a Christian, was without reproach. Of the esteem in which he was held, the names of the following re- spectable friends and noble patrons, will afford ample proof. It has been already mentioned that the attachment of the duke of Norfolk was so great to his tutor, that he granted him a pension for life; he also en- joyed the patronage of the earls of Bedford and Warwick, and the inti- mate friendship of sir Francis Walsingham (secretary of state), sir Tho- mas and Mr. Michael Hennage, of whom he was frequently heard to observe, that sir Thomas had every requisite for a complete courtier, but that Mr. Michael possessed all the merits of his brother besides his own, still untainted by the court. He was on very intimate and affec- tionate terms with sir Drue Drury; sir Francis Drake; Dr. Grindal, archbishop of Canterbury; Dr. Elmar, bishop of London; Dr. Pil- kington, bishop of Durham; and Dr. Nowell, dean of St. Paul's. Others of his most intimate acquaintances and friends were. Doctors Humphrey, Whitaker, and Fulk; Mr. John Crowly, and Mr. Baldwin Collins. Among the eminent citizens, we find he was much venerated by sir Thomas Gresham, sir Thomas Roe, alderman Bacchus, Mr. Smith, Mr. Dale, Mr. Sherrington, &c. &c. At length, having long served both the church and the world by his ministry, by his pen, and by the unsullied lustre of a benevolent, use- ful, and holy life, he meekly resigned his soul to Christ, on the 18th of April, 1587, being then in the seventieth year of his age. He was in- terred in the chancel of St. Giles's, Cripplegate; of which parish he had been, in the beginning of Elizabeth's reign, for some time vicar. The Lord had given him a foresight of his departure; and so fully was he assured that the time was just at hand when his soul should quit the body, that (probably to enjoy unmolested communion with God, and to have no worldly interruptions in his last hours) he purposely sent his tM'O sons from home, though he loved them with great tender- ness; and, before they returned, his spirit, as he had foreseen would be the case, had flown to heaven. His death occasioned great lamentations throughout the city, and his funeral was honoured with a great concourse of people, each of whom appeared to bewail the loss of a father or a brother. iiNTRODUCTION, In the short remaining space allotted to us, Ave purpose to give a few instances of the pernicious influence exercised by the popish priests over the minds of tlieir deluded followers; as to that influence, princi- pally, is to be attributed the sanguinary and ferocious persecutions car- ried on by the papists against the prolestants, which form the subject of the greater part of the following pages. In selecting these instances we need not confine ourselves to ancient times; the character of the llomish clergy is, and always has been, the same; proud, insolent, and over- bearing, where they have gained the power; hypocritical and insidious where they have it yet to gain — they afibrd an object of well-founded jealousy to every government and nation; their influence is alike inimi- cal to the people and to the prince; for, while they hold the former in the most abject ignorance and slavery, they allow the latter only to retain the semblance of authority, and are ready to strip him of even that, should he presume to dispute their commands: of this, the follow- ing historical facts afford ample proof. When pope Gregory VII., in the eleventh century, excommunicated Henry IV. emperor of Germany, and caused his subjects to rise in rebellion against him, bigotry had so far extinguished reason and na- tural atfection in the empress Agnes his mother, the duchess Beatrix his aunt, and the countess Matilda his cousin-german, that they joined the party of the haughty pontiff, to deprive their nearest relative of his throne; and contributed money, and levied troops, for that purpose. Owing to the influence of the Catholic priesthood, John Huss was burned at Constance, in direct violation of the emperor's protection; and Luther would have met the saine fate at Worms, but that Charles V. was too firm. At the instance of the clergy, Philip III. was in- duced to banish the Moors from Spain, and Louis XIV. to expel the protestanls from France, which materially injured those kingdoms. Queen Mary gave her subjects the strongest assurances, by an open declaration in council, that she would permit them to pursue any such religion as their conscience should dictate: and yet, when firmly esta- blished on her throne, she countenanced the burning of her protestant subjects, at the instance of the popish clergy. James II., on his accession, gave the most solemn assurances, that he would maintain the established government in church and state ; and yet, under the advice and influence of the Jesuits, in direct violation of liis oath, he immediately began to pursue arbitrary measures, and to sub- vert the protestant religion, for which attempt he justly lost his crown. In his memorial, framed at St. Germain, after his abdication, under the direction of popish priests, by whom he was surrounded and influenced, he declared, " That the justice and moderation of his government had xu INTRODUCTION. been such, that he had never, since his accession to the crown, given any reason of complaint," ! He says, his desire for calling a free par- liament was, " that he might have tho best opportunity of undeceiving his people, and shewing the sincerity of tho-;e protestalions he had often made, of preserving the liberties and the properties of his sub- jects, and the protestant religion, more es'peciallij the church .>f England, as by laic establishecV He says, " thai the charges made against him were calumnies and stories, and that it was now time for them (his sub- jects) to open their eyes, when they were reduced to slavery;" alluding to the glorious revolution, by which the conssitution was unquestionably ascertained and confirmed. Though he had lodged the government of Ireland in the hands of papists exclusively, had disarmed the protes- tants, and had given his assent to a bill, for attainting every person io thai kingdom of the established church, seized of landed property, his inconsistency and duplicity were such, that he declared in that iremo- rial, " thai in Ireland the defence of his protestant subjects, and of the protestant religion, had been his special care," ! " Whensoever," he saya, " the nation's eyes shall be opened, to see bow they have been imposed upon by the specious pretences of religion and property, and that, being sensible of the ill condition they are in, they shall be brought to such a temper, that a legal parliament maybe called; then he will return, and even venture his life to redeem them from the slavery thev are fallen under, and to settle liberbj of conscience." \ In his declaration, dated Dublin Castle, May 8th, 1689, and ad- dressed to all his subjects in the kingdom of England, (whicli was so replete with falsehood and inconsistencies, that it was ordered, by a vote of the English House of Commons, to be burnt by the common hangman) he says, "that nothing but his own inclinations to justice could prevail with him to such a proceeding, as that of his care of his protestant subjects in Ireland; and hopes his protestant subjects in Eng- land will make a judgment of what they may expect." ! Thus this infa- tuated monarch was led, by his spiritual advisers, to violate his oath and his honour, and to forfeit his crown; and yet, so blinded by bigotry was he, that he appears to have been scarcely conscious that his conduct was at direct variance with his professions. Sigismund, king of Swaden, in whom popish influence had extin- guished all principles of honour and good faith, lost his dominions by attempting, in violation of his coronation oath, to introduce the Roinish superstition into them; and in the year 1607, the duke of Sudermania, his uncle, as Charles IX. was placed on the throne. When the emperor and the Roman Catholic princes of Germany con- cluded the peace of Westphalia, in the year 1648, with the protestant princes, after a bloody war of thirty years, they mutually bound each other to its observance, by a solemn oath; on which the pope pub- lished a bull, declaring it to be null and void, as no oath could bind any of his sectaries to heretics ! A decretal of Gregory II. is couched in the following words, " Those who are bound by any compact, however strongly confirmed, to persona manifestly fallen in heresy, shall know they are absolved from the duty of fidelity and homage, and all obedience." INTRODUCTION. xm In the preliminaries of the treaty of Utrecht, between the emperor and Louis XIV. it was agreed, that the protestants of Germany should enjoy the same privileges which had been granted to them by the treaty of Westphalia; on which the pope wrote to the emperor an epistle, ia which he declared the treaty to be null and void, though it had been ra- tified and secured by an oath. This epistle is found among the briefs and epistles of Clement XI. vol. ii. p. 179. The people of England, at an early period, were so convinced of the great and dangerous influence of popish priests on the moral and politi- cal principles of their sovereigns, that the privy council, in the reign of Richard II., ordered his confessor, in that monarch's presence, not to en- ter the court but on the four grand festivals. During the progress of the rebellion of 1641, cardinal Pamfilio, by the pope's orders, wrote to Kinuncini, his holiness's nuncio in Ireland, *' that the holy see never would, by any positive act, approve the civil allegiance which Catholics pay to an heretical prince." These instances might easily be multiplied, but we refrain from a task at once tedious and unnecessary ; in the course of this volume, scarcely a page will be found, which does not exhibit popery in the same character as we have painted it above : and we, therefore, need only re- fer our readers to any part of the work now laid before them, for an ample justification of our statements. We cannot more appropriately close this part of our subject than with the following extracts from Mr. Goriiig's excellent " Thoughts on the Revelations," which give a summary of Popisii airogance, cruelty, and superstition. *' Excess of pride and idolatry have been the bane of mankind : they preferred a carnal to a spiritual church ; and thence have arisen their miseries. Tiie gospel dispensation taught them a lesson they could not endure ; war, lust, avarice, and ambition, were preferable in their eyes to peace, happiness, security, good-will, love, and order. The pomp and blandishments of the papal church so effectually dazzled men's eye:< and captivated their understandings, that to support it, the barriers of the gospel were thrown down, and the popes magnified themselves above the God of Heaven, and doled out the world to their adherents, as best siiitcd their own interests. They not only usurped the seat and authority of their master, but assumed his holy name, by calling themselves the Universal Father, the God of the earth, the vicar of Je- sus Christ; thus sanctifying their cruel and bloody deeds, under the sanction of the name of the most merciful God, again crucifyino- their Saviour by exalting the Virgin Mary in his stead, teaching mankind to worship the work of men's hands, and to confide in them instead of their Creator and their Saviour. " History will testify the works of the Popes, when they arrived to the plenitude of their power. Let us judge of them by that unerring rule our Saviour left us: ' By their fruits ye shall know them.' It is not their words, but their works, we should consider. What quarter of the globe has escaped the ravages of their power? If we look to the East J China and Japan, where they once bore rule, exhibit the most cruel and bloody massacres ever heard of, because their satellites aimed at political power, to the overthrow of the latvful governments. If we look x\v INTRODUCTION. to America, where their power was supreme, we freeze with horror at the wanton barbarities inflicted upon the heathens. If we cast our eyes over Europe, the seat of their authority, we again see the like tra- gedies exhibited ; witness in France the massacre of St. Bartholomew, the revocation of the edict of Nantz, the extermination of the Waldenses and Albigenses, the cruel expulsions in Spain, and above all, the cruel and bloody Inquisition, a court which they call holy, but surely the most accursed on earth. If we turn our eyes to our own country, we see the stakes in Smithfield, and the fires lighted to consume the bodies of those holy martyrs, who gave up their lives courageously in de- fence of their religion ; we see the vile mysteries of iniquity discovered at the suppression of the monasteries, and the shameful practices ex- posed, by which the priests deluded the people. I will not recur to other persecutions, but ask : If this is the religion of the meek Jesus, or if it is not rather the triumph of Satan over fallen man V Mr. Goring then contrasts the characters of our blessed Saviour and of those men who presume to call themselves his " substitutes on earth," in the following manner : " Jesus Christ, as one of his last acts, left mankind this new law, * Love one another as I have loved you ; by this shall all men know that ye are ony disciples' — Popery hates all that are not of its communion, and condemns them soul and body to the pit. — The blessed Saviour declared his kingdom was not of this world, being spiritual; that he judged no men, but that the words he uttered should judge them in the last day — The Popes claim the dominion of the whole earth, spiritual and temporal, they wear a triple crown, and pretend to judge all men. — The Sa- viour, previous to his death, condescended to wash his disciples' feet, assur- ing them they should have no pan in him unless they submitted to it — The Popes, so far from submitting to this lesson of humility, arrogantly permit them to kiss their feet. — Our blessed Lord claimed not a spot upon earth, nor had he a place where to lay his head ; to him, sufficient for the day was the evil thereof, both with respect to food and raiment — Not so the Popes ; from their votaries they extort the scanty gains of the sweat of their brows, go gorgeously attired, and feed sumptuously every day. — Our Saviour freely pardoned the sins of his penitent creatures, without fee or reward — The Popes presume to pardon sins ; nay, grant indul- gences for committing more ; bui it in foi luuuey and the sordid lucre of gain. " Can any man find a resemblance in these two characters ? Is not the counterfeit easily discovered ; and will not men blush with shame when they see how grossly they have been deluded by this deceiver ? Let them but fairly read the gospel of Jesus Christ ; they will there find he delegated his power to no man, in the way the Popes claim it, and that he alone is the intercessor between God and man, and no man can approach God but through him." We are convinced, that there is no true Christian, who will not agree unequivocally in the justice of the above observations. They 7nust be convinced that Popery is absurd, superstitious, enthusiastic, idolatrous, and cruel ; that it darkens the understanding, and enslaves the con- sciences of its votaries, and is as much an enemy to virtue as to truth. LIST OF ENGRAVINGS. is many of the Engravings in this Edition, owing to the mode in which it was originally published, are distant from the subjects to which they refer, it has been judged advisable to give the following List, by 7neans of which the Reader will be enabled to obtain at once the'iivformation he may require. See p. No. 1, Cruelties of the Inquisition 124—126 2. Martyrdom of St. Laurence SO 3. Martyrdom of a Christian Lady 35 4. Dreadful Sufferings of the Primitive Martyrs 67 5. Horrible Cruelties inflicted on the Primitive Christians 15 6. Martyrdom at Arethusa in the Fourth Century — 6? 7. Primitive Martyrdoms 27 8. Torture of Nicholas Burton by the Inquisitors 139 9. Method of torturing the Primitive Christians "j 10. Cruelties inflicted on the Primitive Christians V l_5S 11. Tortares of tlie early Christian Martyrs J 12. Massacre of the Protestants in Piedmont 191 13. Martyrdom of St. Stephen 4 14. Inhuman Butchery of Seventy Protestants by order of Pope Pius IV. in 1560 19S 15. Discovery of Guy Fawkes in the Vaults of the House of Lords 797 16. Martyrdom of Archbishop Cranmer 544 17. Martyrdom of Eulalia, a Spanish Christian Lady 45 18. Peter, a Chnstiati of i.nmpoamo, E»vcr<»Iy beaten and afterwards put to death, for refusing to sacrifice to Venus 24 19. Martyrdom of Irene, a Christian Virgin, at Thessalonica 47 20. Cruel treatment o-f Messrs. King, Wade, and others, in Lollards' Tower 454 21. The Burning of the Rev. John Rogers 388 22. Horrible Cruelties inflicted by order of the Inquisition 117—127 23. Adalbert, Bishop of Prague, put to death by the Pagans, near Dantzic 91 24. Punishment of the Primitive Martyrs 2 25. Marcus, Bishop of Arethusa, hung up in a basket, atid stung to death by wasps "7 26. A Gentleman of Bohemia inhumanly murdered by Popish RuflSans ... 401 27 John Petty cruelly beaten in Lollards* Tower, by order of Bishop Bonner, while his Son is scourged to death in an adjoining Dun- geon • ^^2 3 %v{ LIST OF ENGRAVINGS. Se« p. No. 28. Martyrdom of Rawlins White, at Cardiff 417 29. A Woman with her Infant drowned in Scotland; and Four Men hung for eating Flesh on a Fast Day 332 30. The Burning of Bishops Ridley and Latimer 477 31. Barbarities exercised by the Popish Persecutors on the Waldensesof Calabria 188 32. Dominico Berto cruelly mangled and tortured to death, by the Popish Persecutors - 113 83. Rochus. a carver of St. Lucar, in Spain, burnt by order of the Inquisi- tion 128 34. Basil ciTjelly tortured to death by order of Julian the Apostate 66 35. A Christian flayed alive by the Heathen Persecutors 2 36. Thirteen Protestant Martyrs burnt together in one fire at Stratford . . . 571 37. Burning of Dr. Barnes, the Rev. W. Jerome, and the Rev. T. Garret, in Smithfield 279 38. Bishop Latimer examined before a Popish Tribunal 472 39. King John surrendering his Crown to Pandulph, the Pope's Legate . . 223 40. The Burning of Julius Palmer, John Gwin, and Thomas Askine 589 41. The Emperor Henry IV., with his Empress andJSon, waiting three days and nights, to gain admission to Pope Gregory VII 222 42. Murder of Sir Edmundbury Godfrey, by five Popish Ruftans 824 43. Inhuman Executiou of a Mother, her two Daughters, and an Infant, at Guernsey 590 44. Horrible Cruelties exercised on the Protestants in Ireland, in 1641 . . . 807 45. Martyrdom of Five Persons at Canterbury 688 46. Burning of Dr. Farrar, Bishop of St. David's 415 47. The cruel Racking of Cuthbert Symson in the Tower of London 658 48. Tyrrel burning Rose Allen's hand, while fetching drink for her sick Mother 623 49. Dress of a Male Penitent who recants to the Inquisition. — Dress of a Female recanting Penitent 128 50. Burning of Thomas Badby, in Smithfield, in the Reign of Henry IV.. 229 51. Dress of a Female condemned by the Inquisition. — Dress of a Man in a similar situation 128 52. Assassination of the Prince of Orange by Baltazar CJerard 180 53. Pope Alexander treading on the neck of the Emperor Frederic 223 54. A Primitive Christian' Sftyodttiiw- Vy«h» H«a«iroHl*ersecutor9 2 \ .0" PSIITC. UNIVERSAL HISTORY CHRISTIAN MARTYRDOM. Cruelties of tlie Jutjuisition, BOOK I. HISTORY OF THE FIRST TEN PERSECUTIONS OF THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH, FROM THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 67, TILL THE TIME OF CONSTANTINE THE great; DETAILING THE LIVES AND ACTIONS OF THE PRINCIPAL CHRIS- TIAN MARTYRS OF BOTH SEXES, IN EUROPE AND IN AFRICA. J. HE dreadful martyrdoms which we are now about to describe, arose from the persecutions of the Romans against the Christians, in the pri- mitive ages of the church, during the space of three hundred years, or till the time of the godly Constantine. KOX's MARTYRS. It is both wonderful and horrible to peruse the descriptions of the suf- ferings of these godly martyrs, as they are described by the ancient historians. Their torments were as various as the ingenuity of man, tempted by the devil, could devise; 3 BOOK OF MARTYRS. and their numbers were truly in- credible. "Some," says Hobanus, " were slain with the sword ; some burnt with fire ; some with whips scourged ; some stabbed with forks of iron ; some fastened to the cross or gibbet; some drowned in the sea; some had their skins plucked off; some their tongues cut off; some stoned to death ; some killed with cold; some starved with hunger; some their hands cut off, or other- wise dismembered, have been so left naked, to the open shame of the world,'' &:c. Augustine, speaking of these martyrs, says, that allhongh their punishments were various, yet their constancy was uniform. And notwithstanding the sharpness of so many and sundry torments, and the i;ruelty of ihe tormentors, such was the number of these constant saints that suffered, or rather such was the power of the Lord in his saints, that as Hierome in his episfle to Cro- niatius and Heliodorus observes, " There is no day hi the whole year, itnto tvhich the number of Jive thou- sand martyrs cannot he ascribed, except only the first day of January .^^ Tlie first martyr to our holy reli- gion was its blessed Founder him- self. His history is sufficiently known, as it hus been handed down to us in the New Testament; ne- vertheless, it will be proper here to give an outline of his sufferings, and more particularly as they will be fol- lowed by those of the apostles and evangelists. The persecutions by the emperors took place long after the death of our Saviour. BRIEF HISTORY OF OUR SAVIOUR. It is known that in the reign of Herod the angel Gabriel was sent by divine command to the Virgin Mary. This maiden was betrothed to a carpenter named Joseph, who resided at Nazareth, a city of Gall- lee ; but the consummation had not then taken place ; for it was the custom of the eastern nations to con- tract persons of each sex from their childhood, though the cohabitation was not permitted till years of ma- turity. The angel informed Mary how highly she was favoured of God, and that she should conceive a son by the Holy Spirit, which happened accordingly : for travelling to Beth- lehem, to pay the capitation-lax then levied, the town was so crowded that they could only get lodgings in a stable, where the Holy Virgin gave birth to our Blessed Redeemer, which was announced to the world by a star and an angel ; the wise men of the east saw the former, and the shepherds the latter. After Jesus had been circumcised, he was presented in the temple by the Holy Virgin; upon which occa- sion Simeon exclaimed in the cele- brated words mentioned in the li- turgy: " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." Luke ii. 29, 30. - Jesus, in his youth, disputed with the most learned doctors in the temple, and soon after was baptized by John in the river Jordan, when the Holy Ghost descended upon him in the form of a dove, and a voice was heard audibly to pro- nounce these words: "This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased." After this Christ fasted forty-days and nights in the wilderness, where he was tempted by the devil, but resisted all his allurements. He performed his first miracle at Caua, in Galilee ; he likewise conversed with the good Samaritan, and re- stored to life a nobleman's dead child. While travelling through Ga- lilee, he restored the blind to sight, and cured the lame, the lepers, &c. Among other benevolent actions, he cured, at the pool of Bethesda, a pa- ralytic man, who had been lame ' thirty-eight years, bidding him take up his bed and walk ; and he after- wards cured a man whose right hand was shrunk up and M'ithered ; with many acts of a similar nature. When he had chosen his twelve apostles, he preached the celebrated sermon upon the mount; after which he performed several miracles, par- ticularly the feeding of the multitude. OUR BLESSED SAVIOUR. and the walking on tJie surface of the sea. On the celebration of the pass- over, Jesus supped with his disci- ples: he informed them that one of them would betray him and another deny him, and preached his farewell sennon. A multitude of armed men soon afterwards surrounded him, and Judas kissed him, in order to point him out to the soldiers, who were not acquainted with his person. In the scuflle occasioned by the apprehen- sion of Jesus, Peter cut oft" the ear of Malchus, the servant of the high priest, for which Jesus reproved him, and, by touching the wound, healed it. Peter and John followed Jesus to the house of Annas, who refusing to judge him, sent him bound to Cai- aphas, where Peter denied Christ, as the latter had predicted ; but on Christ reminding him of his perfidy, Peter went out and wept bittcrlj'. When the council had assembled in the morning, the Jews mocked Jesus, and the elders suborned false M'itnesses against him ; the principal accusation being, that he had said, " I win destroy this temple that is made with hands, and within three days I will build another made with- out hands." Caiaphas then asked him if he was the Christ, the Son of God, or no ; being answered in the affirma- tive, he was accused of blasphemy, and condemned to death by Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, who, though conscious of his innocence, yielded to the solicitations bf the Jews, and condemned him to be crucified. His remarkable expression at the time of passing sentence, proved how much he was convinced that the Lord was persecuted. Previous to the crucifixion, the Jews, by way of derision, clothed Christ in a regal robe, put a crown of thorns upon his head, and a reed, for a sceptre, in his hand ; they then mocked him with ironical compli- ments, spit in his face, slapped his cheek, and taking the reed out of his hand, they struck him with it upon the head. Pilate would fain have re- leased him, but the general cry was, Crucify him, crucify him ; which oc- casioned the governor to call for a basin of water, and having washed his hands, he declared himself inno- cent of the blood of Christ, whom he termed a just person. But the Jews said. Let his blood be upon us, and our children; and the governor found himself obliged to comply with their wishes, which wish has manifestly taken place, as they have never since been a collected people*. While leading Christ to the place of crucifixion, they obliged him to bear the cross, which being afterwards nna'wle to sustain, they compelled one Simon, a native of Cyrenia, to carry it the rest of the way. Mount Cal- vary was fixed on for the place of execution, where, having arrived, the soldiers offered him a mixture of gall and vinegar to drink, which he re- fused. Having stripped him, they nailed him to the cross, and crucified him between two malefactors. After being fastened to the cross, he uttered this benevolent prayer for his ene- mies : " Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." The soldiers who crucified him, being four in number, now cut his mantle to pieces, and divided it between them ; but his coat being without a seam, they cast lots for it. Whilst Christ remained in the agonies of death, the Jews mocked him and said, " If thou art the Son of God, come down from the cross." The chief priests and scribes also reviled him, and said, " He saved others, but cannot save himself." One of the criminals who * The Romans aflFord a similar exam- ple of the retributive justice of God. For nearly three hundred years subse- quently to the crucifixion of our Sa- viour, they were the prey of contend- ing factions, and of despotic and blood- thirsty emperors. Tiberius, in the seventeenth year of whose reign Jesus Christ suffered martyrdom, was one of the most severe and cruel tyrants by whom they were oppressed. In one day, according to Suetonius, he caused twenty persons to be put to death ; and it is worthy of notice, that by his or- ders Pilate was accused at Rome, de- posed, and banished to Lyons, where he at length committed suicide. 4 BOOK OF MARTYRS. was crucified with him, also cried out, and said, " If you are the Messiah, save yourself and us:" but the other malefactor, having great faith, ex- claimed, " Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom." To ■which Christ replied, ** This day shalt thou be with me in paradise." When Christ was upon the cross the earth was covered with darkness, and the stars appeared at noon-day, which struck the people and even the Jews with terror. — In the midst of his tortures Christ cried out, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken mc?" and then expressed a desire to drink ; when one of the soldiers gave him, upon the point of a reed, a sponge dipped in vinegar, which, how- ever, he refused. About three o'clock in the afternoon he gave up the ghost, and at that time a violent earthquake happened, when the rocks were rent, the mountains trembled, and the dead were thrown up from their graves. These signal prodigies at- tended the death of Christ, and such was the mortal end of the Redeemer of mankind. It is not a subject of wonder that the heathens who lived so long after him, endeavoured by persecution and the most horrid cru- elties, to prevent the propagation of that source of comfort and happiness in all aflliction which has resulted from the blessed system of faith that our Saviour confirmed with his blood. THE LIVES, SUFFERINGS, AND MARTYRDOM OF THE APOSTLES, EVAN- GELISTS, &C. I. ST. STEPHEN. This early martyr was elected, with six others, as a priest out of the Lord's seventy disciples. He was an able and successful preacher. The principal persons belonging to five Jewish synagogues entered into many altercations with him; bui he, by the soundness of his doctrine, and the strength of his arguments, overcame them all, which so much irritated them, that they bribed false witnesses to accuse him of blaspheming God and Moses. On being carried before the council, he made a noble de- fence : but that so much exasperated his judges, that they resolved to con- demn him. At this instant Stepiien saw a vision from heaven, which re- presented Jesus, in his glorified state, sitting at the right hand of God. This vision so greatly rejoiced him, that he exclaimed, in raptures, " Be- hold 1 see the heavens open, and the Son of Man standing on the right hand of God." This caused him to be condemned, and, having dragged him out of the city, they stoned him to death. On the spot where he was martyred, Eudocia, the empress ot the emperor Theodosius, erected a superb church, and the memory of him is annually celebrated on the 26th day of December. The death of Stephen was suc- ceeded by a severe persecution iij Jerusalem, in which 2000 Christians, with Nicanor the deacon, were mar- tyred ; and many others obliged to leave that country* n. ST. JAMES THE GREAT. He was a Galilean, and the son of Zebedee, a fisherman, the elder bro- ther of St. John, and a relation tO' Christ himself; for his mother Salome was cousin-german to the Virgin Ma- ry. Being one day with his father fishing in the sea of Galilee, he and his brother John were called by our Saviour to become his disciples. They cheerfully obeyed the mandate, and leaving their father, followed Je- sus. J t is to be observed, that Christ placed a greater confidence in them than in any other of the apostles, Pe- ter excepted. Christ called these brothers Boa- nerges, or tlie Sons of Thunder, on account of their vigorous minds, and impetuous tempers. When Herod Agrippa was made governor of Judea by the emperor Caligula, he raised a persecution against the Christians, and particu- THE APOSTLES, &c. tally singled out James as an object of his veng^eance. This martyr, on being: condemned to death, showed such an intrepidity of spirit, and con- stancy of mind, that even his accuser was struck with admiration, and be- came a convert to Christianit}'. This transition so enraged the people in power, that they condemned him likewise to death ; when James the apostle and his penitent accuser were both beneaded on the same day, and with the same sword. These events took place in the year of Christ 44; and the 25th of July was fixed by the church for the commemoration of this saint's martyrdom. About the same period, Timon and Parmenas, two of the seven deacons, suffered martyrdom ; the former at Corinth, and the latter at Pbilippi, in Macedonia. in. ST. PHILIP. This apostle and martyr was born at Bethsaida, in Galilee, and was the first called by the name of Disciple. He was employed in several import- ant commissions by Christ, and being deputed to preach in Upper Asia, laboured very diligently in his apos- tleship. He then travelled into Phr}'- gia, and arriving at Heliopolis, found the inhabitants so sunk in idolatry as to worship a large serpent. St. Phi- lip, however, converted many of them to Christianity, and even procured the death of the serpent. This so enraged the magistrates, that they committed him to prison, had him severely scourged, and afterwards crucified. His friend St. Bartholo- mew found an opportunity of taking down the body, and burying it; for which, however, he wis very near suffering the same fate. His martyr- dom happened eight years after that of St. James the Great, a.d. 32; and his name, together with that of St. James the Less, is commemorated on the 1st of May. IV. ST. MATTHEW. This evangelist, apostle, and mar- tyr, was born at Nazareth, in Galilee, but resided chiefly at Capernaum, on account of his business, which was that of a toll-gatherer, to collect tri- bute of such as had occasion to pass the sea of Galilee. On being called as a disciple, he immediately com- plied, and left every thing to follow Christ. After the ascension of his master, he continued preaching the gospel in Judea about nine years. Intending to leave Judea, in order to go and preach among the Gentiles, he wrote his gospel in Hebrew, for the use of the Jewish converts ; but it was afterwards translated into Greek by St. James the Less. He then went to Ethiopia, ordained preachers, settled churches, and made many converts. He afterwards pro- ceeded to Parthia, where he had the same success ; but returning to Ethio- pia, he was slain by a halberd, in the city of Nadabar, about the year of Christ 60 ; and his festival is kept by the church on the 21st day of Sep- tember. He was inoffensive in his conduct, and in his mode of living remarkably temperate. V. ST. MARK. This evangelist and martyr was born of Jewish parents, of the tribe of Levi. It is imagined, that he was converted to Christianity by St. Pe- ter, whom he served as an amanuen- sis, and whom he attended in all bis travels. Being entreated by the con- verts at Rome to commit to writing the admirable discourses they had heard from St. Peter and himself, he complied with this request, and com- posed his gospel accordingly, in the Greek language. He then went to Egypt, and constituted a bishopric at Alexandria: afterwards he pro- ceeded to Lybia, where he made many converts. On returning to Alexandria, some of the Egyptians, exasperated at his success, deter- mined on his death. They therefore tied his feet, dragged him through the streets, left him bruised in a dungeon all night, and the next day burned his body. This happened on the 25th of April, on which day the church commemorates his martyrdom. His BOOK or MARTYRS. bones were carefully gathered up by the Christians, decently interred, and afterwards removed to Venice, where he is considered as the tutelar saint and patron of the state. VI. ST. JAMES THE LESS. This apostle and martyr was called so to distinguish him from St. James the Great. He was the son, by a first wife, of Joseph, the reputed fa- ther of Christ: he was, after the Lord's ascension, elected bishop of Jerusalem : he wrote his general epistles to all Christians and converts whatever, to suppress a dangerous error then propagating, viz. " That a faith in Christ was alone suflBcient for salvation, without good works." The Jews, being at this time greatly enraged that St. Paul had escaped their fury, by appealing to Rome, de- termined to wreak their vengeance on James, who was now ninety-four years of age : they accordingly threw him down, beat, bruised, and stoned him ; and then dashed out his brains with a club, such as was used by fullers in dressing cloths. His fes- tival, together with that of St. Philip, is kept on the first of May. VII. ST. MATTHIAS. This apostle and martyr was called to the apostleship after the death of Christ, to supply the vacant place of Judas, who had betrayed his mas- ter, and was likewise one of the seventy disciples. He was martyred at Jerusalem, being first stoned and then beheaded ; and the 24th of Fe- bruary is observed for the celebration of his festival. VIII. ST. ANDREW. This apostle and martyr was the brother of St. Peter, and preached the gospel to many Asiatic nations. On airivii;g at Edessa, the governor of the country, named Egeas, threat- ened him for preaching against the idols there worshipped. St. Andrew persisting in the propagation of his doctrines, he was ordered to be cru- cified on a cross, two ends of which were transversely fixed in the ground. He boldly told his accusers, that he would not have preached the glory of the cross, had he feared to die on it. And again, when they came to crucify him, he said, that he coveted the cross, and longed to embrace it. He was fastened to the cross, not with nails but cords, that his death might be more slow. — In this ;^itun- tion he continued two days, preach- ing the greatest part of the time to the people; and expired on the 30tli of November, which is comme- morated as his festival. IX. ST. PETER. This great apostle and martyr was born at Betbsaida, in GaHlee, being the son of Jonah, a fisherman, which employment St. Peter himself fol- lowed. He was persuaded by his brother to turn Christian, when Christ gave him the name of Cephas, im- plying, in the Syriac language, a rock. He was called, at the same time as his brother, to be an apostle; gave uncommon proofs of his zeal for the service of Christ, and always appeared as the principal speaker among the apostles. — He had, how- ever, the weakness to deny his mas- ter after his apprehension, though he defended him at the time ; but the sincerity of his repentance made an atonement for the atrociousuess of his crime. After the death of Christ, the Jews still continued to persecute the Christians, and ordered several of the apostles, among whom was Pe- ter, to be scourged. Thispunishraep* they bore with the greatest fortitude, and rejoiced that they were thought worthy to suffer for the sake of their Redeemer. When Herod Agrippa caused St. James the Great to be put to death, and found that it pleased the Jews, he resolved, in order to ingratiate himself with the people, that Peter should fall the next sacrifice. He was accordingly apprehended, and thrown into prison; but an angel of THE APOSTLES, &c. the Lord released him, which so en- raged Herod, that he ordered tlie ceiitinels who guarded tlie dungeon in which he had been confined, to be put to death. St. Peter, after various other miracles, relit ed to Rome, where he defeated all the artifices, and confounded the magic, of Simon, the magician, a great fa- vourite of the emperor Nero; he likewise converted to Chrislianify one of the concubines of that mo- narch, which so exaspciated the ty- rant, that he ordered both St. Peter and St. Paul to be apprehended. During the time of their confine- ment, they converted two oi the cap- tains of the guards, and forty-seven other persons, to Christianity. Hav- ing been nine months in prison, Pe- ter was brought out from thence for execution, when, after being severe- ly scourged, he was crucified with his head downwards ; which position, however, was at his own request. His festival is observed on the 29th of June, on which day he, as well as Paul, suffered. His body being taken down, embalmed, and buried in the Vatican, a church was erected on the spot ; but this being destroyed by the emperor Heliogabalus, the body was removed till the 20th bishop of Rome, called Cornelius, conveyed it again to the Vatican : afterwards Constant! ne the Great erected one of the most stately churches in the universe over the place. « Before we quit this article, it is requisite to observe, that previous to the death of St. Peter, his wife suffered martyr- dom for the faith of Christ, and was exhorted, when going to be put to death, to remember her Saviour. X. ST. PAUL. This apostle and martyr was a Jew of the tribe of Benjamin, born at Tarsus in Cilicia, and, before his conversion, was called Saul. He was at first a great enemy to, and perse- cutor of the Christians ; and a prin- cipal promoter of the death of Ste- phen. While on his way to Damas- cus, the glory of the Lord came sud- denly upon him, he was struck to the earth, and was afflicted with blindness during three days; on his recovery from which, he immediately became a professor, an apostle, and ultimately a martjr for the religion which he had formerly persecuted. Amongst his labours in spreading the doctrine of Christ, he converted to the Faith Sergius Paulus, the pro- consul of Cyprus, on which he took his name, and, as some suppose, was from thence called Paulus instead of Saulus. After his many labours he took to him Barnabas, and went up to Jerusalem, to Peter, James, and John, where he was ordained, and sent out with Barnabas to preach to the Gentiles. At Iconium, St. Paul and St, Barnabas were near being stoned to death by the enraged Jews ; upon which they fled to Lycaonia. At Lystra, St. Paul was stoned, dragged out of the city, and left for dead. He, however, happily revived, and escaped to Derbe. At Philippi, Paul and Silas were imprisoned and whipped ; and both were again per- secuted at Thessalonica. Being after- wards taken at Jerusalem, he was sent to Cajsarea, but appealed to Caesar at Rome. Here he continued a prisoner at large for two years ; and at length being released, he visited the churches of Greece and. Rome, and preached in France and Spain. Returning to Rome, he was again apprehended, and, by the order of Nero, martyred, by being behead- ed, on the same day on which Peter was crucified, but in the following year. Two days are dedicated to the commemoration of this apostle ; the one for his conversion, on the 25th of January ; and the other for his martyrdom, on the 29th of June. XI. ST. JUDE. This apostle and martyr, the bro- ther of James, was commonly called Thaddaeus. Being sent to Edessa, he wrought many miracles, and made many converts, which stirring up the resentment of people in power, he was crucified, a. d. 72 ; and the 28th of October is, by the church, dedi- cated to his memory. BOOK OF MARTYRS. Xll. ST. BARTHOLOMEW. This apostle and martyr preaclied in several countries, performed many miracles, and healed various dis- eases. He translated St. Matthew's gospel into the Indian language, and propagated it in that country; but at length, the idolaters growing impa- tient with his doctrines, severely beat, cruciticd, and slew him, and then cut off his head. The anniver- sary of his martyrdom is ou the 24ith of August. XIII. ST. THOMAS. He was called by this name in Syriac, but Didymus in Greek ; he was an apostle arid martyr, and preached in Parthia and India, where, displeasing the Pagan priests, he was martyred by being thrust through with a spear. — His death is commemorated on the 21st of December, XIV. ST. LUKE THE EVANGELIST. This martyr was the author of a most excellent gospel. — He travelled with St. Paul to Rome, and preached to divers barbarous nations, till the priests in Greece hanged him on an olive tree. The anniversary of bis martyrdom is on the 18th of Oc- tober. XV. ST. SIMON. This apostle and martyr was dis- tinguished, from his zeal, by the name of Zelotes. He preached with great success in Mauritania, and other parts of Africa, and even in Britain, where, though he made many con- verts, he was crucified, a.d. 74; and the church joining him with St. Jude, commemorates his festival on the 28th of October. XVI. ST. JOHX, He was distinguished for being a prophet, apostle, divine, evangelist, and martyr. He is called the beloved disciple, and was brother to Jamed the Great. He was previously a dis- ciple of John the Baptist, and after- wards not only one of the twelve apostles, but one of the three to whom Christ communicated the most secret passages of his life. He founded churches at Smyrna, Perga- ums, Sardis, Philadelphia, Laodicea, and Thyatira, to whom he directs his book of Revelations. Being at Ephe- sus, he was ordered by the emperor Domitian to be sent bound to Rome, where he was condemned to be cast into a cauldron of boiling oil. But here a miracle appeared in his fa- vour; the oil did him no injury, and Domitian, therefore, not being able to put hiin to death, banished him to Patmos, to work at the mines. He was, however, recalled by Nerva, who succeeded Domitian; but was deemed a martyr on account of his having undergone an execution, though it did not take effect. He wrote his epistles, gospel, and reve- lations, all in a different style; but they are all equally admired. He was the only apostle who escaped a violent death, and lived the longest of any of them, being nearly 100 years of age at the time of his death; and the church commemorates the 27th day of December to his me- mory. XVII. ST. baknabas. He was a native of Cyprus, but of Jewish parents: the time of his death is uncertain, but it is supposed to be about the year of Christ 73 ; and his festival is kept on the iltb of June. THE FIRST PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION UNDER NERO. The first persecution, in the primi- tive ages of the church, was begun by tbat cruel tyrant Nero Domitius, the sixth emperor of Rome, and a.d. 67. This monarch reigned, for the space of five years, with tolera- ble credit to himself, but then gave way to the greatest extravagancy of FIRST PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION. 9 temper, and to tlie most atrocious barbarities. Among olhor diabolical outrages, he ordered Uiat the city of Rome should be set on tire, which was done by his officers, guards, and servants. While the city was in tiames, he wont up to the tower of Maecenas, played upon his harp, sung the song of the burning of Troy, and declared " That he wished the ruin of all things before his death." Among the noble buildings burnt was the circus, or place appropriated to horse-races. It was half a mile in length, of an oval form, with rows of seats rising above each other, and capable of re- ceiving, with ease, upwards of 100,000 spectators. Many other palaces and houses were consumed; and several thousands of the people perished in the tiames, were smothered, or buried beneath the ruins. This dreadful conflagrati^ conti- nued nine dajs; when Ner^finding that his conduct was greatly blamed, and a severe odium cast upon him, determined to lay the whole upon the Christians, at once to excuse himself, and have an opportunity of witness- ing new cruelties. The barbarities exercised upon the Christians, during the first persecution, were such as eveu excited the commiseration of the Ro- mans themseJves. Nero even refined upon cruelty, and contrived all man- ner of punishments for the Christians. In particular, he had some sewed up in the skins of wild beasts, and then worried by dogs till they expired; and others dressed in shirts made stiff with wax, fixed to axle-trees, and set on fire in his gardens. This persecu- tion was general throughout the whole Roman empire ; but it rather increased than diminished the spirit of Chris- tianity. Besides St. Paul and St. Pe- ter, many otliers, whose names have not been transmitted to posterity, and who were some of their converts and followers, suffered ; the facts con- cerning the principal of whom we shall proceed to describe. Erastus, the chamberlain of Co- rinth, was converted by St. Paul, and determined to foliow the fortune of that apostle. For this reason he re- signed his office, and accompanied St. Paul in his voyages and travels, till the latter left him in Macedonia, where he was first made bishop of that province by the Christians; and afterwards suffered martyrdom, being tortured to death by the pagans at Philippi. Aristarchus, the Macedonian, was born in Thessalonica, and being converted by St. Paul, became his constant companion. — He was with that apostle at Ephesus, during a commotion raised in that city by De- metrius, the silversmith. They both received several insults upon the oc- casion from the populace, which they bore with christian patience, giving good advice in return for ill-usage, and not in the least resenting any in- dignity.——Aristarchus accompanied St. Paul from Ephesus into Greece, where they were very successful in propagating the gospel, and bringing over many to Christianity. — Having left Greece, they traversed a great part of Asia, and made a considera- ble stay in Judea, where they were very successful in making converts. — After this, Aristarchus went with St. Paul to Rome, where he suffered the same fate as the apostle; for, being seized as a Christian, he was beheaded by the command of Nero. Trophimus, an Ephesian by birth, and a Gentile by religion, was con- verted by St. Paul to the christian faith, and accompanied his master in his travels. Upon his account the Jews raised a great disturbance in the temple at Jerusalem, the last time St. Paul was in that city. They even attempted to murder the apostle for havingintroduced him, being a Greek, into the temple. Lysias, the captain of the guard, however, interposed, and rescued St. Paul by force from their hands. On quitting Jerusalem, Trophimus attended his master first to Rome, and then to Spain ; passing through Gaul, the apostle made him bishop of that province, and left him in the city of Aries. About a twelve- 10 BOOK OF MARTYRS. montli affer, he paid a visit to St. Paul iu Asia, and went with him, for the last time to Rome, where he was witness to his martyrdom ; which was but the forerunner of his own; for, being soon after seized on account of his faith, he was beheaded by order of Nero. Joseph, commonly called Barsa- BAS, was a primitive disciple, and is usually deemed one of the seventy. He was, in some degree, related to the Redeemer; and he became a can- didate, togetlier with Matthias, to fill the office of Judas Iscariot. The ec- clesiastical writings make very little other mention of him; but Papias in- forms us, that he was once compelled to drink poison, which did not do him the least injury, agreeable to the promise of the Lord, to those who be- lieve in him. — He was, during his life, a zealous preacher of the gospel ; ancl having received many insults from the Jews, at length obtained martyr- dom, being murdered by the pagans in Judea. Ananias, bishop of Damascus, is celebrated in the sacred writings for being the person who cured St. Paul of the blindness with which he was struck by the amazing brightness which happened at his conversion. He was one of the seventy, and was martyred in the city of Damascus. After his death a Christian church was built over the place of his burial, which is now converted into a Turk- ish mosque. THE SECOND PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION, UNDER DOMITIAN. The emperor Domitian was natu- rally of a cruel disposition: he first slew his brother, and then raised the second persecution against the Chris- tians. His rage was such, that he even put to death some of the Roman senators; some through malice, and others to confiscate their estates; and lie then commanded all the lineage of David to be extirpated. Two Christians were brought before him, accused of being of the tribe of Judah, and line of David ; but from their answers, he despised them as idiots, and dismissed them accordingly. He, however, was determined to be more secure upon other occasions ; for he took away the property of many Chris- tians, put several to death, and ba- nished others. Amongst the numerous martyrs that suffered during this persecution was Simeon, bishop of Jerusalem, who was crucified; and St. John, who was boiled in oil, and afterwards banished to Patraos. Flavia, the daughter of a Roman senator, was likewise banished to Pontus ; and a law was made, " That no Christian, once brought before their tribanal, should be exempted from punishment without renouncing his religion." During this reign there were a va- rietj' of tales, composed in order to injure the Christians. Among other falsehoods, they were accused of in- decent nightly meetings, of a rebel- lious turbulent spirit; of being inimi- cal to the Roman empire; of murder- ing their children, and even of being cannibals ; and at this time, such was the infatuation of the Pagans, that if famine, pestilence, or earthquakes, afflicted any of the Roman provinces, these calamities were said to be ma- nifestations of the divine wrath occa- sioned by their impieties. These per- secutions increased the number of informers; and many, for the sake of gain, swore away the lives of the in- nocent. When any Christians were brought before the magistrates, a test oath was proposed, when, if they re- fused it, death was pronounced against them ; and if they confessed them- selves Christians, the sentence was the same. The various kinds of pu- nishments and inflicted cruelties were, imprisonment, racking, searing, broil- ing, burning, scourging, stoning. SECOND PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION. 11 hanging, and wonting. Many were torn piecemeal with red-hot pincers, and others were thrown upon the horns of wild bulls. After having suifered these cruelties, the friends of the deceased were refused the pri- vilege of burning their remains. The following were the most re- markable of tJie numerous martyrs who suffered during this persecution. DioiVYSius, the A-reopagite: he was an Athenian by birth, and edu- cated in all the useful and ornament- al literature of Greece. He then travelled to Egypt to study astrono- my, and made very particular obser- vations on the great and supernatural eclipse which happened at the time of our Saviour's crucifixion, On his return to Athens, he was highly honoured by the people, and at length promoted to the dignity of senator of that celebrated city. Becoming a convert to tlie gospel, he changed from the worthy pagan magistrate to the pious Christian pastor; for even while involved in the darkness of iddatry, he was as just as he possibly coild be in the gross errors of pagan- isn. After his conversion the sanc- tity of his conversation, and purity of his manners, recommended him sc strongly to the Christians in gene- rjl that he was appointed bishop of jlthens. He discharged his duty with the utmost diligence till the second jear of this persecution, viz. a. d. 69, when he was apprehended, and re- ceived the crown of martyrdom by being beheaded. NicoMEDES, a Christian of some distinction at Rome, during the reign of Domitian, made great efforts to serve the afllicted; comforting the poor, visiting those confined, exhort- ing the wavering, and confirming the faithful. For those and other pious actions he was seized as a Christian, and being sentenced, was scourged to death. Protasius and Gervasius were martyred at Milan; but the particular circumstances attending their deaths are not recorded. Timothy, the celebrated disciple of St. Paul, and bishop of Ephesus, was born at Lystra, in the province of Lycaonia: his father was a Gen- tile, and his mother a Jewess; but both Jiis parents and his grandmother embraced Christianity; by which means he was taught from his infancy the precepts of the gospel. Upon St. Paul's arrival at Lycaonia, he or- dained Timothy, and then made him the companion of his labours. He mentions him with peculiar respect, and declares, that he could find no one so truly united to him, both in heart and mind. Timothy attended St. Paul to Macedonia, where, with that apostle and Silas, he laboured in the propagationof the gospel. When St. Paul went to Achaia, Timothy was left behind to strengthen the faith of those already converted, or to induce others to be of the true faith. St. Paul at length sent for him to Athens, and then dispatched him to Thessalonica, to preach to the suffer- ing Christians there against the ter- rors of the persecution which then prevailed. Having performed his mission, he returned to Athens, and there assisted St. Paul and Silas in composing the two epistles to the Thessalonians. He then accompa- nied St. Paul to Corinth, 'Jerusalem, and Ephesus. After performing se- veral other commissions for St. Paul, and attending him upon various jour- nies, the apostle constituted him bi- shop of Ephesus, though he was only thirty years of age ; and in two ad- mirable epistles gave him proper in- structions for his conduct. He was so very temperate in his living, that St. Paul blamed him for being too abstemious, and recommended to him the moderate use of wine, to recruit his strength and spirits. While that great apostle was in his confinement at Rome, he desired Timothy to come to him; he afterwards returned to Ephesus, where he zealously governed the church till a. d. 97. At this pe- riod the pagans were about to cele- 12 BOOK OF MARTYRS. braid a feast called Catagogion, the principal ceremonies of which were, that the people should carry sticks in their hands, go masked, and bear about the streets the images of their gods. When Timothy met the pro- cession, he severely reproved them for their ridiculous idolatry, which so exasperated them, that they fell upon him with their clubs, and beat him in so dreadful a manner, that he expired of the bruises two days after. THE THIRD PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION, UNDER THE ROMAN EMPKRORS. Between the second and the third Roman persecution was but one year. Upon Nerva succeeding Domitian, be gave a respite to the Christians; but reigning only thirteen months, his successor Trajan, in the tenth year of his reign, and in a. d. 108, began the third persecution against them. While the persecution raged, Plinius Secundus, a heathen philoso- pher, wrote to the emperor in favour of the Christians, stating that he found nothing objectionable in their con- duct; and that "the whole sum of their error consisted in this, that they were wont at certain times appointed, to meet before day, and to sing cer- tain hymns to one Christ their God : and to confederate among themselves, to abstain from all theft, murder, and adultery; to keep their faith, and to defraud no man: which done, then to depart for that time, and after- wards to resort again to take meat in companies together, both men and women, one with another, and yet without any act of evilj" To this epistle Trajan returned this indeci- sive answer: "That Christians ought not to be sought after, but when brought before the magistracy they should be punished." Provoked by this reply, Tertullian exclaimed, " O confused sentence! he would not have them sought for as innocent men, and yet would have them pu- nished as guilty." The emperor's incoherent answer, however, occa- sioned the persecution in some mea- sure to abate, as his officers were un- certain, if they carried it on with se- verity, how he might choose to wrest his own meaning. — Trajan, however, soon after wrote to Jerusalem, and gave orders to exterminate the stock of David ; in consequence of which, all that could be found of that race were put to death. About this period the emperor Tra* jan was succeeded by Adrian ; who continued the persecution with the greatest rigour. Phocas, bishop of Pontus, refusing to sacrifice to Neptune, was, by the immediate order of Trajan, cast first into a hot limekiln, and being drawn from thence, was thrown into a scald- ing bath till he expired. Trajan likewise commanded the martyrdom of Ignatius, bishop of An- tioch. This holy man was the person whom, when an infant, Christ took into his arms and showed to his dis- ciples, as one that would be a pattern of humility and innocence. He 'e- ceived the gospel afterwards from St. John the Evangelist, and was exceed- ingly zealous in his mission. He boldly vindicated the faith of Christ before the emperor, for which he wis cast into prison, and was tormentei in a cruel manner; for, after being dreadfully scourged, he was compel- led to hold fire in his hands, and at the same time, papers dipped in oil were put to his sides, and set alight. His flesh was then torn with red-hot pincers, and at last he was dispatched by being torn to pieces by wild beasts. Ignatius had either a presentiment or information of his fate ; for writing to Poly carpus at Smyrna, he says, *' Would to God I were once come to the beasts which are prepared for me ; which also I wish with gaping mouths were ready to come upon me, whom also I will provoke that they without delay may devour me. And if they will not, unless they be provoked, I will then enforce them against my- self." THIRD PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION. J3 SYmphorosa, a widow, and bcr Beven sons, were commanded by Trajan to sacrifice to the heathen deities. Refusing? to comply wi(h the impious request, the emperor, greatly exasperated, ordered her to be carried to the temple of Her- cules, where she was scourged, and hung up for some time by the hair of her head: then a large stone was fastened to her neck, and she was thrown into the river. Her sons were fastened to seven posts, and being drawn up by pulleys, their limbs were dislocated; these tortures not affecting their resolu- tion, they were thus martyred. Crescentius, the eldest, was stabbed in the throat; Julian, the second, in the breast; Nemesius, the third, in the heart; Primitius, the fourth, in the navel; Justice, the fifth, in the back; Ntactcus, the sixth, in tlie side ; and Eugenius, the youngest, was sawed asunder. About this time Alexander, bishop of Rome, after filling that office ton years, was martyred, as were his two deacons; and also Quirinus and Hermes, with their families ; Zenon, a Roman nobleman, and about ten thousand other Christians. Many were crucified in Mount Ararat, crowned with thorns, and spears run into their sides, in imi- tation of Christ's passion. — Eusta- chius, a brave and successful Ro- man commander, was ordered by the emperor to join in an idolatrous sacrifice, to celebrate some of his own victories; but his faith was so great, that he nobly refused it. Enraged at the denial, the ungrate- ful emperor forgot the services of this skilful commander, and ordered him and his whole family to be martyred. During the martyrdom of Faus- tines and Jovita, brothers and citi- zens of Bressia, their torments were so many, and their patience so great, that Calocerius, a pagan, be- holding them, was struck with ad- miration, and exclaimed, in a kind of ecstacy, "Great is the God of the Christians!" for which he was apprehended and put to death. Many other cruelties and rigours were exercised against the Chris- tians, till Quadratus, bishop of Athens, made a learned apology in their favour before the emperor, who happened to be there; and Aristides, a philosopher of the same city, wrote an elegant epistle, which caused Adrian to relax in his seve- rities, and relent in their favour. He indeed went so far as to com- mand, that no Christian should be punished on the score of religion or opinion only ; but this gave other handles against them to the Jews and pagans, for then they began to employ and suborn false witnesses, to accuse them of crimes against the state or civil authority. , Nicephorus makes mention of Anthia, a godly woman, «ho com- mitted her son Eleutherius to Ani- cetus, bishop of Rome, to be brought up in the doctrine of the Christian faith, who afterwards, being bishop in Apulia, was there beheaded With his mother Anthia. Justus also and Pastor, two brethren, with like mar- tyrdom, ended their lives in a city of Spain called Complutuni, under the before-mentioned emperor. Adrian died in the year 138, or 139, and had ordered the cessation of the persecutions against the Chris- tians some years before his death. He was succeeded by Antoninus Pius, so amiable a monarch, that his people gave him the title of "The Father of Virtues." Imme- diately upon his accession to the throne, he published an edict con- cluding with these words: "If any hereafter shall vex or trouble the Christians, having no other cause but that tliey are such, let the ac- cused be released, and the accusers be punished." Th's stopped the per- secution, and the Christians enjoy- ed a respite from their sufferings during this emperor's reign, thouo-h their enemies took every occasion to do them what injuries they could. The piety and goodness of Anto- ninus were so great, that he used to say, that he had rather save one citizen, than destroy a thousand of his adversaries. 14 BOOK or MARTYRS. THE FOURTH PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION, UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS, WHICH COMMENCED A. D. 162. Antoninus Pius Mas succeeded by Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Verus, who began the fourth persecution, in which many Christians were mar- tyred, particularly in several parts of Asia, and in France. Such were the cruelties used in this persecu- tion, that many of the spectators shuddered with horror at the sight, and were astonished at the intre- pidity of the sufferers. Some of the martyrs were obliged to pass, with their already wounded feet, over thorns, nails, sharp shells, &c. others were scourged till their sinews and veins lay bare ; and after suffering the most excruciating tortures, they were destroyed by the most terrrible deaths. Germanicus, a young and true Christian, being delivered to the wild beasts on account of his faith, behaved with such astonishing cou- rage, that several pagans became converts to a faith which inspired such fortitude. This enraged others so much, that they cried out, he merited death; and many of the multitude wondering at this beloved martyr for his constancy and virtue, began suddenly to cry with a loud voice, saying, " Destroy the wicked men, let Polycarpus be sought for." And whilst a great uproar and tu- mult began to be raised upon those cries, a certain Phrygian, named Quintus, lately arrived from his coun- try, was so afflicted at the sight of the wild beasts, that he rushed to the judgment-seat and upbraided the judges, for which he was put to death. Polycarpus hearing that he was sought after, escaped, but was dis- covered by a child. From this cir- cumstance, and having dreamed that his bed suddenly became on file, and was consumed in a mo- ment, he concluded that it was God's will that he should suffer mar- tyrdom. He therefore did not at- tempt to make a second escape when he iiad an opportunity of so doing. Those who apprehended him were amazed at his serene countenance and gravity. After feasting them, he desired an hour for prayer, which being allowed, he prayed with such fervency, that his guards repented they had been in- strumental in taking him. He was, however, carried before the pro- consul, condemned, and conducted to the market-place. Wood being provided, the holy man earnestly prayed to Heaven, after being bound to the stake ; and as the flames grew vehement, the executioners gave way on both sides, the heat now becoming intolerable. In the mean time the bishop sung praises to God in the midst of the flames, but remained unconsumed therein, and the burning of the wood spread- ing a fragrance around, the ^u- ds were much surprised. Determined, however, to put an end to his life, they struck spears into his bpdy, when the quantity of blood that issued from the wounds extinguished the flames. After considerable attempts, however, they put him to death, and burnt his body when dead, not being able to consume it while alive. This extraordinary event had such an effect upon the people that they began to adore the martyr ; and the proconsul was admonished not to deliver his body, lest the peo- ple should leave Christ, and begin to worship him*. Twelve other Christians, who had been intimate M'ith Polycarpus, were soon after martyred. * Polycarpus was a very aged man, who hadserved Christ eighty-six years, and served also in the ministry about the space of seventy years. He was the scholar and hearer of John the Evangelist, and was placed by him in Smyrna. FOURTH PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION. 15 Metkodorijs, a uiiiiister, wbo preached boldly, and Pionius, Avho made some excellent apologies for the Christian faith, were likewise burnt. Carpus and Papilus, two worthy Christians, and Agatho- nica, a pious woman, suffered mar- tyrdom at Pcrgamopoiis, in Asia, about the same period. Felicitatas, ail illustrious Ro- man lady of a considerable family, and great virtues, was a devout Christian. She had seven sons, whom she had educated with the most exemplary pietj'. The empire having been about this time griev- ously troubled with earthquakes, famine, inundations, Sec. the Chris- tians were accused as the cause, and Felici(atas was included in the accusation. The lady and her family i'cing seized, the emperor ;^..,,o orders to Publius, the Roman governor, to proceed against her. Upon this Publius began with the mother, thinking that if he could prevail with her to change her re- l'in, drums, and trumpets, abhorr"? such prepara- tions and furni«re, but only pray- ing unto, and <^usting in their God, whom they ^Ty about with them in their co-sciences. It is there- fore to I- believed, although we call the-' wicked men, that they worshi .*^«jd in their hearts; for they >"•»? prostrate on the ground, pra^d, not only for me, but for ll, army also which was with «c, beseeching God to help me in that our extreme want of vic- tuals and fresh water (for we had been five days without water, and in our enemies' land, even in the midst of Germany); I say^ FOURTH PRIMlTIVfi: PERSECUTION. 17 fftUing' on their faces, they prayRi! to a God unkaftwn to me, and im- mediately thereupon fell from hea- ven a most pleasant and cool show- er ; hnt amongst onr enemies great store of hail, mixed with thunder and liuhtning' : so that we soon perceived the invincible aid of the most mighty God to he with us; therefore we gave these men leave to profess Christianity, lest, b)"^ their prayers, we be punished hy the like: and I hereby make myself the author of all the evil that shall :ic- crue by the persecution of the v hris- tian religion." It appears that this • miraculous storm so intimidated the enemy, that part deserted to the Ro- man army, the rest were defeated, and the revolted provinces were en- tirely recovered. Marttfrdom of St. Laurence. PERSECUTIONS IN FRANCE. Although this manifest interfe- rence of the Almighty in favour of the Christians occasioned the per- secution to subside for some time, in those parts immediately under the inspection of the emperor, yet we find that it soon alter raged in France, particularly at Lyons, where the tortures, to which many of them Avere put, almost exceed the powers of description. All manner of pimishments were adopt- ed, torments, and painful deaths ; such as being hanishetl, plundered, fox's MAttTYRS. hanged, burnt, kc; and even' the serv^ants and slaves of opulent Christians were racked and tor- tured, to make them accuse their masters and employers. The fol- lowing were the principal of these martyrs: Vetius A'gathus, a young man," who having pleaded the Chris- tian cause, was asked if he was a Christian ; to which answering in the affirmative, he was condemned to death. Many, animated by this* young man's intrepidity, boldly ()wned their faith, and' suflered likewise. Blandinia, a Christian, li^ BOOK OF MARTYRS. but of a weak constitution, being- seized and tortured ou account of her religion, received so much strenjfth from Heaven, that her torturers became tired frequently, and H'ere surprised at her being able to bear her torments for so great a leuifth of time, and with such resolution. Sanctus, a deacon of Vienne, was put to the tortures, which he bore with great fortitude, and only cried, " I am a Chris- tian." Red hot plates of bravhich we find no mention in ancient auttioi^ before his time, except only in Justin the mar- tyr, who in his description declares two times most especially used for Christians to congregate together; the first, when any convert was to be baptized ; the se- cond, upon the Sunday ;, because, says he, upon that day God made the world, and because Christ upon that day first showed himself, after his resurrection, to his dis- ciples, 8ic. The emperor Couunodus dying in the year 191, was succeeded by Pertma'x, and he by Julianus, both of whom reigned but a short time. On the death of the last, Severus became emperor iu the year 192. — When be had been recovered from a severe lit of sickness by a Chris- tian, he became a great favourer of Christians in general ; and even permitted his son Caracalla to be nursed by a female of that persua- sion. Hence, during- the reigns of the emperors already mentioned, who successively succeeded Com- nwdus, and some years of the lalter's reign, the Christians had a respite for several years from persecution. But the prejudice and fury of the ignorant multitude again prevailed, and the obsolete laws were put in execution against the Christians. — The. pagans were alarmed at the progress of Christianity, and re- vived the calumny of placing acci- dental misfortunes to the account of its professors. Fire, sword, wild beasts, and imprisonments, ~ were resorted to ,' and even the dead bodies of Christians were torn from their graves, and sub- jecteti to every insult; yet the , gosjiel W4thstoo3 the attacks of its FIFTH GEMillAL FEKSKCUIION 21 that if the Cliristians liail collect- ively v.itlulia\vn tlieiiiselves from the Roman territories, the empire woiikl have been greatly depopu- lattd . Victor, bishoj) of Rome, sufFert-d martyrdom in the first year of the third* century, viz. a. d. 201, though the circumstances are not ascer- tained Leonidas, the father «if the cele- brated Origen, was beheaded for beiny a Christian. 1 revious to the execution, the son, in order to encDuraoe him, wrote to him in these rt^markable words : " Be- ware, Sir, that your care for us does not make you chang-e your resolution." Many of Origen's bearers likewise suffered martyr- dom ; particularly two brothers, named Plutarchus and Serenus : another Serenus, Heron, and He- raelides, were beheaded ; ]lhais had boiling pitch poured upon her head, and was then burnt, as was Marcella her mother. I'otamiena, tlie sister of Rhais, was executed in the same maimer as Rhais. IJut liasilides, an oth- cer belonging- to the army, and one ordered to attend her execu- tion, became a convert on wittiess- ing her fortitude. When he was required to take a certam oath, lie refused, saying, that he could not swear by the Roman Idols, as he was a Christian. The people rould not, at first, believe what they heard ; but he had no sooner confirmed his assertion, than he was drag-ged before the judg-e, com- mitted to prison, and beheaded im- mediately. Irenna?us, bishop of Lyons, was born in Greece, and received a Christian education. It is gene- rally &iipj)Osed that the account of ihe perajcutions at Lyons was writteiJ by himself. He succeeded the martyr Pothinus as bishop of Lyons, and ruled his diocese with great propriety : he was a zealous opposer of heresies in general, -and wrote a celebrated tract -against heresy. about A. p, 187, Victor, the bishop of Rome, wanting to impose a particular mode of keeping Easter there, it occasioned some disorders among the Christians. In particular, Ire- nseus wrote him a synodical epistle in the name of the Gallic churches. This zeal in favour of Christianity, pointed him out as an object of resentment to the emperor ; and he was accordingly beheaded in A. D. 202 PERSECUTIONS IN AFRICA. ■^Ihe persecutions about this time extended to Airica, and many were martyred in that part ol the globe ; the most particular of whom were Per[)etua, a married lady of about twenty -six years of age, with a young child at her breast ; she was seized upon (or being a Christian. Her father, wholendcriy loved her, went to con- sole ht-r during her continenicnt, and attempted to persuade her to renounce Christianity. Perpetua, however, resisted every entreaty. This resolution so much incensed her father, that he beat her se- verely, and did not visit her for some days after ; and, in the mean time, she, and some others who were confined, were baptized, as they were before only catechu- mens. On bf ing carried before the pro- consul Minutius, she was com- u^anded to sacrifice to the idols ; but refusing, she was ordered to a dark dungeon, and was deprived of lier child. Two deacons, how- ever, Tertxus and Pompouious, who had tlie care of j)ersecuted Chris- tians, allowed her some hours daily to inhale the fresh air, dur- ing which time she had the satis- faction of being allowed to suckle her child. Foreseeing, however, that she should not long be per- mitted to take care of ii, she re- commended it strongly to her mo- ther's attention. Iler father at length paid her a second visit, and again entreated her to renounce Christianity. His behaviour was now all tenderness and huUianity ; but ?\iHe.vible to all thin;;^ but Christ, she knew she inusit lenvf. every thing foi his sake ; and she 22 b6ok of martyrs. only said to hini, «' God's will must be done." He then, with an almost bursting- heart left her. Perpetua gave the strongest proof of fortitude and strength of mind on her trial. The judge en- treated her to consider her father's tears, her infant's helplessness, and her own life ; but triumphing over the softer sentiments of na- ture, she forgot the ideas of both mental and corporeal pain, and determined to sacritice all the feel- ings of human sensibility, to that immortality ottered by Christ. In vain did tliey attempt to persuade her that their offers were gen- tle, and her own religion other- wise. Aware that she must die, her father's parental tetiderness re- turned, and ill his anxiety he at- tempted to carry her off, on which he received a severe blow from one of the officers. Irritated at this, the daughter immediately de- clared, that she felt that blow more severely than if she had re- ceived it herself. Being conducted back to prison, she awaited her exe- cution with several other persons, who were to be executed at the same time ; one of these, Felicitas, a married Christian lad}', was big- with child at the time of her trial. The procurator, when he examined her, entreated her to have pity upon herself and her condition ; but she replied, that his compas- sion was useless, for no thought of self-preservation could induce her to submit to any idolatrous propo- sition. She was dehvered in pri- son of a g;rl, which was adopted by a Christian woman as her own. Revocatus was a catechumen of Carthage, and a slave. The names of the other prisoners, who were to suHier upon this occasion, were Satur, Saturnius, and Necun- dulus. When the day of execu- tion arrived, they were led to the amphitheatre. Satur, Saturnius, and Revocatus, having the forti- tude to denounce God's judgments upon their persecutors, were or- dered to run the gauntejope be- tween the hunters, or such as had the care of the wild beasts. — Th« huntei-s being drawn up in two ranks, they ran between, and as thev passed were severely lashed. Felicitas and Perpetua were strip- ped, in order to be thrown to a mad bull ; but some of the specta- tors, through decency, dfsired that they might be jiermitted to put on their clothes, which request was granted. The bull made his first attack upon Perpetua, and stunned her : he then attacked Felicitas, and wounded her much ; but not killing- them, the executioner did that office with a .sword. Revoca- tus and Satur were destroyed by wild beasts ; Saturnius was be- headed ; and Secundulus died in prison. These executions took place on the 8th of March, a. d. 205. The crimes and false accusations objected against the Christians at this time were, sedition and rebel- lion against the emperor, sacrilege, murdering of infants, incestuous piliution, eating raw flesh, libidi- nous commixture, for which many, called then ynostici, were dis- graced. It was objected against them that they worshipped the head of an ass ; which calumny was propagated by the Jews. They were charged also with wor- shipping the sun, because before the sun rose they met together, singing their morning hymns to the Lord, or else because ihey prayed towards the east, but parti- cularly because they would not with them adore their idolatrous gods. Speratus, and twelve others, were beheaded ; as was Androclusy in France. Asclepiades, bishop of Antioch, suflfered many tortures, but his life was spared. Cecilia, a young- lady of a good family in Rome, was married to a gentleman named Valerian. Being a Chris- tian herself, she soon persuaded her husband to ejnbrace the same faith; and his' ^conversion was speedily followed by that of Ti- burtius his brother. 'This informa- tion drew upon them all the ven- geance of the laws : the tsvo bro- thers were beheaded ; and the offi- cer, who led thena to executioH, SIXTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. US becomiug tlieir convert, suffVred in a similar manner. When the lady was appre- hended, she was doomed to death in tlie following' manner : she was placed naked in a scalding^ bath, and having' continued there a con- siderable time, her head was struck off with a sword, a. d. 222. Calis- tus, bishop of Rome, was martyred A. D. 224, but the manner of his death is not recorded ; and in a. n. 232, Urban, bishop of Rome, met the same fate. THE SIXTH GENERAL PERSF.CUTIO Maximus, who was emperor in A. D. 235, raised a persecution ag'ainst the Christians ; and in Cap- padocia, the president Semiramus made great efforts to exterminate the Christians from that kingdom. A Roman soldier who refused to wear a laurel crown bestowed on him by the emperor, and confessed himself a Christian, was scourged, imprisoned, and put to death. Pontianus, bishop of Rome, for preaching against idolatry, was ba- nished to Sardinia, and there de- stroyed. Anteros, a Grecian, who succeeded this bishop in the see of Rome, gave so much offence to the government by collecting tlie acts of the martyrs, that, after having held his dignity only forty days, he suffered martyrdom himself. Pam- machius, a Roman senator, with his family and other Christians to the number of forty-two, were, on account of their religion, all be- headed iu one day, and their heads set up on the city gates. Simpli- cius, another senator, suffered mar- tyrdom in a similar way. Calepo- dius, a Christian minister, after being inhumanly treated, and barbarously dragged about the streets, was thrown into the river Tiber with a mill-stone fastened about his neck. Q,uiritus, a Roman nobleman, with liis family and domestics, were, on account of their Christian princi- ples, put to most excruciating tor- tures, and painful deaths. Mar- tina, a noble and beautiful virgin, suffered martyrdom, being variously tortured, and afterwards beheaded ; Agapetus, a boy of Prteneste, in Italy, who was only fifteen years of age, absolutely refusing to sacri- fice to the idols, was severely scourged, and then hanged up by the feel, and boiling water poured over him. He was afterwards wor- ried by wild beasts, and at last be- headed. The officer, named Antio- chus, who superintended this ext - cution, while it was performing", fell suddenly from his judicial seat, cr3'ing out that his bowels burned like the supposed pains of hell. N UXDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS. and Hippolitus, a Christian prelate, was tied to a wild horse, and drag- ged throug'h fields, stony places, bushes, &c. till he died. While this persecution continued, numerous Christians were slain without trial, and buried indiscri- minately in heaps : sometimes fifty or sixty being cast into a pit toge- ther. Maximus died in a. d. 238 ; he was succeeded by Gordian, dur- ing whose I'eign, and that of his successor Philip, the church was free from persecution for the space of more tiian ten years ; but in the year 249, a violent persecution broke out iu Alexandria. It is, however, worthy of remark, that this was done at the instigation of a pagan priest, with'iut the em- peror's privity. At this time the fury of the people being great against the Cliristians, the mob broke open their houses, carried away the best of their property, de- stroyed the rest, and murdered the Owners ; the universal cry being, " Burn them, burn them ! kill them, kill them !" 'I'he names of the mar- tyrs have not been recorded ; with the exception of the three follow- ing : Metrus, an aged and vene- rable Christian, who refusing to blaspheme his Saviour, was beaten with clubs, pricked with sharp reeds, and at length stoned to death. Quinta, a Christian woman, being carried to the temple, and refusing to worship the idols there, was dragged by her teet over sharp flint stones, scourged Avith whipe, and at last dispatched iu the same •24 BOOK OF MAliTYKS. niannev as Motrus. And Apollonia, an ancient maiden lady, confessing herselfa Chi-istian, the mob dashed out her teeth with their fists, and tlireatened to burn her alive. A lire was accordingly prepared for the purpose, and slie fastened to a stake ; but requestltig to be un- loosed, it was {,'ranted, on a sup- position that she meant to recant, when, to their astonishment, she immediately threw herself into the Hames, and was consumed. THE SEVENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION UI^DER THE ROMAN EMI'ERORS. In the year 249, Decius being' emperor of Rome, a dreadful perse- cution was begun ag^ainst the Chris- tians, This was occasioned partly bj' the hatred he bore to his prede- cessor. Philip, who was deemed a Christian, and partly to his jealousy concerning the amazinij increase of Christianity ; for the heathen tem- ples were almost forsaken, and the Christian churches crowded with proselytes. Decius, provoked at this, attempted, as it were, to ex- tirpate the name of Christian ; and, unfortunately for the cause of the gospel, many errors had, about this time, crept into the church ; the Christians were at variance with each other ; and a variety of con- tentions ensued amongst them. — The heathens, in general, were am- bitious to enforce the imperial de- crees upon this occasion, and looked upon the murder of a Christian as a merit to themselves. The martyrs were, therefore, innumerable. MARTYRDOM OF FABIAN, AND OTHERS. Fabian, bishop of Rome, Avas the fust person of eminence who felt the severity of this persecution. — The deceased emperor, Philip, had, on account of his integrity, com- mitted his treasure to the care of this good man ; but Decius, not finding as much as his avarice made him expect, determined to wreak his vengeance on the good prelate. He was accordingly seized : and on the 20th of January, a. d. 250, suf- fered martyrdom, by decapitation. AbdoH and. Se^tien, tyvo Persians, were seized on as strangers J. but being found Christians, %vere put to «leath, on account of their faith ; and Moysps, a priest, was beheaded for the same reason. Julian, a native of Cilicia, as we are informed by St. Chrysostom, was seized upon for being a Chris- tian. He was frequently tortured, but still remained inflexible; and though often brought from jirison for execution, was again remanded, to suffer greater cruelties. He, at lenijtb, was obliged to travel for twelve months together, from town to town, in order to be exposed to the insults of the populace. When all endeavours to make him recant his religion were found ineffectual, lie was brought before his judge, stripped, and whipped in a dread- ful manner. He was then put into a leather bag, together with a num- ber of serpents, scorjdons, &c. and in that condition thrown into the sea. Peter, a young man, amiable for the superior qualities of his body and mind, was apprehended as a Christian, at Lampsacus, and car- ried before Optimus, proconsol of .4sia. On being- commanded to sa- crifice to Venus, he said " I am astonished that you should wish me to sacrifice to an infamous woman, whose debaucheries even your own historians record, and whose life consisted of such actions as your laws would punish. — No! I shall oft'er to the true God the sacrifice of prayers and praise.'' Optimus, on hearing this, ordered him to be stretched upon a wheel, by which ail his bones were broken in a shocking- manner ; but his tor- ments only inspired him w ith fresh courage ; he smiled on his persecu- tors, and seemed, by the serenity of his countenance, not to upbraid, but to applaud his tormentors. At length, the proconsul commanded him to be beheaded; which was im- mediately executed Niehomachus, another Christian, on beiny ordered to sacrifice to the SEVENTH (JENKUAL rERSECUTION. 25 paj,^an idols, answered, " I cannot pay that respect to devils which is tinly due to the Almiii^hty." This speech so much enraged Optimiis, that Nicliomachus was put to the rack. He hore the torments, tor some time, with patience and great resolution ; hut, at length, when ready to expire with pain, he had the weakness to ahjure his faith, and become an apostate. He had no sooner given this proof of his frailty, than he fell into the greatest agonies, dropped down, and ex- pired immedidtely. Denisa, a young woman, only sixteen years of age, who beheld this tcrrihlejudgment, si?;ldelily ex- claimed, " O, unhappy wretch, why would you buy a moment's ease, at the expense of a miserable eternity?" Optimus hearing this, called to her, aud asked if she was a Christian ? She replied in the affirmative ; and refused to sacrifice to the idols. Optimus, enraged at Iier resolution, gave her over to two libertines, M'ho took her to their home, and made many attempts upon her chastity, but without ef- fect. At midnight, however, they wei-e deterred from their desig-n by a frightful vision, which so amazed them, that they feil at the feet of Denisa, and implored her prayers that they^ might not feel the effects of divine vengeance for their bru- tality. But this event did not di- minish the cruelty of Optimus ; for the lady was beheaded soon after by his order. Andrew and Paul, two compa- nions of Nichomachus the martyr, on confessing themselves Chris- tians, were condemned to die, and delivered to the multitude to be stoned. Accordingly, a. d. 251, they suffered martyrdom by ston- ing, and expired, calling on their blessed Redeemer. Alexander and Epimacus, of Alexandria, were ap- prehended for being Christians ; and on confessing the accusation, were beat with staves, torn with hooks', and at length burnt ; and we are informed by Eusebius, that four female ;g»artyrs suffered on the same day, and at the same place, but not in the same manner ; for these were beheaded. Lucian and Marclan, two pagans, and magicians, becoming- converts to Christianity, to make amends for their former errors, lived the lives of hermits, and subsisted on bread and water. After spending some time in this manner, they reflected that their lives were inefficacious, and determined to leave their soli- tude in order to make converts to Chvistianit}'. With this pious aud laudable resolution they became zealous preachers. The persecu- tion, however, raging at this time, they were seized upon and carried before Sabinus, the governor of Bi- thynia. On being asked by what authority they took upon them- selves to preach, Lucian answered, " That the laws of charity and hu- manity obliged all men to endea- vour to convert their neighbours, and to do every thing in their power to rescue them from the snares of the devil." Marcian also said, that " Their conversion was by the same grace which was given to St. Paul, who from a zealous persecutor of the church, became a preacher of the gospel." When the proconsul found that he could not prevail on them to renounce their faith, he condemned them to be burnt alive, which sen- tence was executed soon after. Trypho and Respicius, two emi- nent men, were seized as^ Chris- tians, and imprisoned at Nice. They were soon after put to the rack, wliich they bore with admir- able patience for three hours, and uttered the praises of the Almighty the whole time. They were then exposed naked in the open air, which benumbed all their limbs. When remanded to prison, they remained there for a considerable time ; and then the cruelties of their persecutors were again evinced. Their feet were pierced with nails; they were dragged through the streets, scourged, torn with iron hooks, ' scorched with lighted torches, and at length beheaded, on the 1st of February) A. D. 251. BOOK OF MARTYRS. Agtha, a Sicilian lady, was re- markable for her beauty and en- dowments ; her beauty was indeed so great, that Quintain, governor of Sicily, became enamoured of her, and made many attempts upon her virtue. The governor being known as a great Hbertine, and a bigotted pagan, the lady thought proper to withdraw from the town, but was discovered in her retreat, apprehended, and brought to Catana ; when, finding herself in the power of an enemy, both to her soul and body, she re- commended herself to the protec- tion of the Almighty, and prayed for death. In order to gratify his passion with the greater conve- niency, the governor transferred the virtuous lady to .Aphrodica, an infamous and licentious wo- man, who tried every artifice to win her to the desired prostitu- tion; but all her efforts were in vain. When Aphrodica acquaint- ed Quintain with the inefficacy of her endeavours, he changed his desire into resentment ; and, on her confessing that she was a Christian, he determined to gra- tify his revenge. He, therefore, ordered her to be scourged, burnt with red hot irons, and torn with sharp hooks. Having borne these torments with admirable fortitude, she was next laid naked upon live coals, intermingled with glass, and being carried back to prison, she there expired on the 5th of Febru- ary, A. D. 251. MARTYRDOM OF CYRIL. Cyril, bishop of Gortyna, was seized by order of Lucius, the go- vernor of that place, who first ex- horted him to obey the imperial mandate, perform the sacrifices, and save his venerable person from destruction ; for he was then eighty- four years of age. The good pre- late replied, that he could not agree to any such requisitions ; but as he had long taught others to save their souls, that now he should only think of his own salvation. When the governor found all his persuasion in vain, he pronounced sentence against the venerable Christian, in these words : " I order that Cyril, who has lost his senses, and is a declared enemy of our gods, shall be burnt alive." The good worthy prelate heard this sentence without emotion, walked cheerfully to the place of execution, and underwent martyrdom with great resolution. PERSECUTIONS IN CRETE. At the Island of Crete, the perse- cution raged with fury ; for the go- vernor being exceedingly active in executing the imperial decrees, that place streamed wiih the blood of many Christians. The principal Cretan martyrs, whose names have been transmitted to us, are as foU low : Theodulus, Saturnius, and Europus, were inhabitants of Gor- tyna, who had been grounded in their faith by Cyril, bishop of that city ; and Eunicianus, Zeticus, Cleomenes, Ag-atbopas, Bastides, and Euaristus, were brought from different parts of the island on accu- sations of professing- Christianity, At the time of their trial, they were commanded to sacrifice to Jupiter, which declining, the judge threatened them with the severest tortures. To these menaces they unanimously answered, " That to suffer for the sake of the Supreme Being' would, to them, be the sub- limest of pleasures." The judge then attempted to gain their vene- ration for the heathen deities, by descanting on their merits, and re- counting some of their mythologi- cal histories. This gave the prison- ers an opportunity of remarking on the absurdity of such fictions, and of pointing out the folly of paying adoration to ideal deities, and real images. Provoked to hear his fa- vourite idols ridiculed, the governor ordered them all to be put to the rack ; the tortures of which they sustained with surprising fortitude. They at length suffered martyrdom, A. D. 251 ; bring all beheaded at the same tinae. MARTYRDOM OF EABYLftS, BISHOP OF ANTIOCH, AND OTHERS. Babylas, a Christian of a liberal education, became bishop of An- SEVENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. ttoeh in a. d. 237, on the demise of Zebinus. He governed the church during" those tempestuous times with admiral)le zeal and prudence. The first misfortune that happened to Antioch dnrino- his mission, was the siege of it by Sapor, king- of Persia; who, having- over-run all Syria, took and plundered this city among" others, and used the Chris- tian inhabitants with greater seve- rity than the rest. His cruelties, however, were not lasting, for Gordian, the emperor, appearing" at the head of a powerful army, Antioch was retaken, the Persians driven entirely out of Sj^ria, pur- sued into their own country, and several places in the Persian territo- ries fell into the hands of the empe- ror. On Gordian's death, in the reign of Decius, that emperor came to Antioch, where, having a desire to visit an assembly of Christians, Babylas opposed him, and refused to let him come in. The emperor dissembled his anger at that time ; but soon sending for the bishop, he sharply reproved him for his inso- lence, and then ordered him to sa- crifice to the pagan deities as an ex- piation for his supposed crime. — Having refused this, he waa coni- Kiitted to prison, loaded with chains, treated with great severities, and then beheaded, together with three young men who had been his pupils. On going" to the place of execution, the bishop exclaimed, " Behold me and the children that the Lord hath given me." They were martyred, A. D. 251 ; and the chains worn by the bishop in prison were buried with bim. Alexander, bishop of Jerusalem, about this time was cast into prison on account of his religion, where he died through the severity of his con- finement ; or, as some assert, was burned to death, with several other Christians in a furnace. When Serapion was apprehend- ed at Alexandria, he had all his bones broken, and Avas then thrown from a high loft, when he was killed by the fall. Julianus, an old man, lame with the gout, and Cronion, another ChristiaD, were bound on the backs of camels, severely scourged, and then thrown into a fire and consumed. A spectator, who seemed to commiserate them, was ordered to be beheaded, as a punishment for his sentiments of tenderness. Macar, a Lybiaa Christian, was burnt. Horon-Ater and Isodorus, Egyptians, with Di- oschorus, a boy of fifteen, after suf- fering- many other torments, met with a similar fate ; and Nemesion, another Egyptian, was first tried as a thief; but being acquitted, was accused of Christianity, which con- fessing, he was scourged, tortured, and finally burnt. Ischyrian, the Christian servant of an Egyptian nobleman, was run through with a pike by his own master, for refusing to sacrifice to idols ; Venatius, a youth of fifteen, was martyred in Italy, and forty virgins, at Anti- och, after being imprisoned and scourged, were destroyed by fire. The emperor Decius having erected a pagan temple at Ephesus, in the year 251, he commanded all who were in that city to sacrifice to the idols. This order was nobly re- fused by seven of his own soldiers, viz. Maximianus, Martianus, Joan- nes, Malchus, Dionysius, Constan- tinus, and Seraion. The emperor, wishing to prevail on the soldiers to prevent their fate by his entreaties and lenity, gave them a respite till he returned from a journey. But in the absence of the emperor, they escaped, and hid themselves in a cavern ; which he being informed of at his return, the mouth of the ca- vern was closed up, and they were all starved to death. Theodora, a beautiful young lady of Antioch, on refusing to sacrifice to the Roman idols, was condemned to the brothel, that her virtue might be sacrificed. — Didymus, a Christian, then dis- guised himself in the habit of a Roman soldier, went to the house, informed Theodora who he was, and prevailed on her to make her escape in his dress. Thus being found in the brothel, instead ot the lady, he was taken before the president, to whom confessing the 28 BOOR OF MARTYRS. truth, sentence of deatli was im- mediately pronounced against liiin. In the mean lime Theodora, hear- ing that her deUverer was hkely to suffer, came to the judge, threw herself at his feet, and begged that the sentence might fall only on her as the guilty person ; hut the inflex- ible judge condemned both ; and they were executed accordingly, being first beheaded, and their bodies afterwards burnt. Secundianus having been ac- cused as a Christian, was convey- ed to prison by some soldiers On the way, Verianus and Mar- cellinus said, " Where are you carrying the innocent?" This in- ter) ogatory occasioned them to be seized, and all three, after having been tortured, were hanged, and their heads were cut off when they were dead. ACCOUNT OF ORIGEN. Origen, the celebrated jircsbyter and catechist of Alexandria, at the age of sixty-four, was seized, thrown into a loathsome prison, loaded with chains, his feet placed in the stocks, and his legs ex- tended to the utmost for several days. He was threatened with fire, and tormented by every means that the most infernal imagina- tions could suggest. But his Chris- tian fortitude bore him through all ; indeed such was the rigour of his judge, that liis tortures were ordered to be lingering, that death migiit not too soon put a period to his miseries. During this cruel temporising, the emperor Decius died, and Callus, who succeeded him, engaging in a v^ar with the Goths, the Christians met with a respite. Jn this interim Origen ob- tained his enlargement, and retiriitg to Tyre, he there remained till his death, which happened when he was in the sixty-ninth year of his age* . • Origen is said, by his biographers, to have been learneil, ingenious, labo- rious, temperate, and charitable. The books written by liiin, according to St. Jeronae, amounted to the aMuobt incre- dible number of seven thousand volvmes ; NUMEROUS MARTYRS IN THE HEION OF DECIUS. In the country of Phrygia, and in the town of LatHpsar, one Peter was apprehended, and suf- fered bitter torments for Christ's name, under Optimus the pro- consul : and in Troada, other martyrs suffered, whose names were Andrew, Paul, Nichoniachus, and Dyonisia, a virgin. Jn Ba- bylon many Christian confessors were found, who were led away into Spain to be executed. In the country of Cappadocia, at the city of Ca^sarea, Germanus, Theophilus, Cesarius, A italis, Po- lychronius, bishop of Babylon, and Nestor, suflered martyrdom for Christ. At Perside, in the town of Car- dalia, Olympiadcs and Maxiraus ; In Tyrus, also, Anatolia, a virgin, and Audax, gave their lives for the testimony of Christ's name ; as did innumerable others in all parts of the empire, the particulars of whose martyrdoms have not been handed down to us. The empei'or Gallus having con- cluded his wars, a plague broke out in the empire ; and sacrifices to the Pagan deities were ordered by the emperor to appease their wrath. On the Christians refus- ing to comply with these rites, they were chaiged with being the authors of the calamity: and thus the persecution spread from the interior to the extreme jtarts of the empire, and many fell mar- tyrs to the impetuosity of the rabble, as well as the prejudice of the magistrates. Cornelius, the Christian bishop of Rome, was, among others, seized upon this occasion. He was first ba- nished to Centum-Cellae, now callen Civita Veccliia ; and after and the produce of their sale, added to what he had gained by the instruction of yonth, enabled him to support his mother and six brethren after the martyrdom of his father Leonidas (see p. 21). His great work, called the JJexapla, from its presenting six versions of the sacred, test in as many columns, gave the first hint for the compilatiou of our Polvclyt Bibles. EltiHTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 2tf having- l»cea cnielly scourged, was (fa the 14th of September, A. b. 252, beheaded, after havinj^ been bishop fill-en months and ten days. Lucius, who succeeded Cornelius as bishop of Rome, was the son of Porphyrius, and a Roman by birth. His vig-ilance, as a pastor, rendered him obuo.x- ious to the foes of Christianity, which occasioned him to be ba- nished ; but in a short time he was permitted to return. Soon after, however, he was apprehended, and beheaded, March the 4th, .1. D. 253. This bishop was suc- ceeded by Stephanus, a man of fiery temper, wlio held the dignity few years, and might probably have fallen a martyr, had not the emperor been murdered by his general /Emilian, when a profound j)eace succeeded throughout the whole empire, and the persecution was suft'ered to subside. Many of the errors which crept into the church at this time arose from placing human reason in competition with revelation ; but the fallacy of such arguments being proved by the most able divines, the opinions they had created vanished before the sublimity of truth. THE EIGHTH GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS. After the death of Gallus, IPavA- lian, the general, having- many enemies in the army, was slain, aud V^alerian elected to the em- pire. This emperor, for the space of four years, governed with mo- deration, and treated the Chris- tians with peculiar lenity and respect ; but in the year 257, an Egyptian magician, named Macri- anus, gained a great ascendancy over him, and persuaded him to persecute them. Edicts were ac- cordingly published, and the per- secution, which began in the month of April, continued for three years and six months. The martyrs that fell in this persecution were innumerable, and their tortures and deaths as va- rious. The most eminent were the following : Rufina and Secunda were two beautiful and accomplished ladies, daughters of Asterius, a g'entle- man of eminence in Rome. Rufina, the elder, was designed in marriage for Armentarius, a young" nobleman : and Secunda, the younger, for Yerinus, a person of rank, and immense wealth. These suitors, at the time the per- secution commenced, were both Christians ; but 'when danger ap- .peared, to save their fortunes, they renounced their faith. They , took great pains to persuade the ladies to do the same, but failed . in their pyrjKjse ; and as a method of safety, Rufina and Secunda left the kkigdom. The lovers, finding- themselves disappointed, informed against the ladies, who being apprehended as Christians, were brought before Junius Do- natus, governor of Rome. After many remonstrances, and having undergone several tortures, they sealed their martyrdom with their blood, by being beheaded in the year 257. In the saiije year, Stephen, bishop of Rome, was beheaded, and about that time Saturnius, bishop of Thoulouse, was attacked and seized by the rabble of that place, for preventing, as they al- ledged, their oracles fromspeakmg. On refusing to sacrifice to the idols, he was treated with many barbarous indignities, and then fastened by the feet to the tail of a bull. On a certain signal the enraged animal was dfiven down the steps of the temple,' by which the martyr's brains were dashed out ; and the small number of Christians in Thoulouse had not for some time courage sufficient to carry off the dead body ; at length two women conveyed it away, and deposited it in a ditch. This mart\'r was an orthodox and learned primitive Christian, and his docU'ines are held in high estim^ion. Stephen was succeeded by Sextus as bishop of Rome. He 99" BOOK OF MARTYRS. is supposed to hare been a Greek by birth, or extraction, and had for some time strved in the capa- city of a deacon under Stephen. His great fidelity, singular wisdom, and courage, distinguished him upon many occasions ; and the fortunate conchision of a contro- versy with some heretics, is gene- rally ascribed to his prudence. Macrianus, who had the manage- ment of the Roman government in the year 258, having procured an order from the emperor Valerian, to put to death all the Christian clergy in Rome, and the senate having testified their obedience to this mandate, Sextus was one of the first who felt its severity. Cy- prian tells us, that he w as beheaded August 6, A. D. 258; and that six of his deacons suffered with him. MARTYRDOM OF ST. LAURENCE. Laurentius, generally called St. Laurence, the principal of the dea- cons, who taught and preached under Sextus, followed him to the place of execution ; when Sextus predicted that he should meet him in heaven three days after. Lau- rentius considering this as a cer- tain indication of his own ap- proaching martyrdom, at his re- turn collected all the Christian poor, and distributed amongst them the treasures of the church, which had been committed to his care, thinking the money could not be better disposed of, or less liable to fall into the hands of the heathens. His conduct alarmed the persecutors, who seized on him, and commanded him to give au immediate account to the em- peror of the church treasures. Laurentius promised to satisfy them, but begged a short respite to put things in proper order ; when three days being granted him, he was suffered to depart, whereupon with great diligence, he collected together a great number of aged, helpless, and impotent poor, and repairing to the magistrate, pre- senting them to him, saying, •' These are the true treasures of the church." Provoked at the disappointment, and fancying the matter meant in ridicule, the governor ordered him to be immediately scourged. He was then beaten with iron rods, set upon a wooden horse, and had his limbs dislocated. He endured these tortures with such fortitude and perseverance that he was ordered to be fastened to a large gridiron, with a slow fire under it, that his death might be the more tedious. But his astonishing constancy during these trials, and his serenity of countenance while under such excruciating torments, gave the spectators so exalted an idea of the dignity and truth of the (Christian religion, that many immediately be- came converts. Having lain for some time upon the gridiron, the martyr called out to the emperor, who was present, in a kind of jocose Latin distich, made extempore, which may be translated thus : ♦' Tliis side enough is toasted, •' Then turn me. tyrant, and eat j '• And see, whether raw or roasted, " I am the better meat." On this the executioner turned him, and after having lain a consi- derable time longer, he had still strength and spirit enough to tri- umph over the tyrant, by telling him, with great serenity, that he was roasted enough, and only wanted serving* up. He then cheerfully lifted up his eyes to heaven, and with calmness yield- ed his spirit to the Almighty. This happened on August 10, a. d. 258. Romanus, a soldier, who attend- ed the martyrdom of Laurentius, became one of the converts to his sufferings and fortitude ; and when that martyr was remanded to pri- son, Romanus took the opportunity of fully inquiring into the nature of the Christian failh ; and being en- tirely satisfied by Laurentius, be- came firmly a Christian, and re- ceived his baptism from the captive. On his sudden change becoming known, he was apprehended, scourged severely, and afterwards beheaded. H^'politus, another EIGHTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 3C Roman, for the same oft'ence, was seized aad suffered a siiuilar fate. PERSECUTIONS IN AFRICA. — ACCOUNT OF CYPRIAN. Fourteen years previous to this period the persecution raored in Africa with peculiar violence ; and many thousands received the crown of martyrdom, among whom the foilowinif were the most distiu- g-uished characters : Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, was an eminent prelate, and a pious ornament of the church. His doctrines were orthodox and pure ; his language easy and ele- gant; and his manners graceful. He was said to be so perfect a master of rhetoric and iog-ic, and so complete in the practice of elo- cution, and the principles of phi- losophy, that he was made pro- fessor of those sciences in his na- tive city of Carthage, where he taught with great success. He was educated in the principles of Gentilism, and having a considera- ble fortune he lived in great splendour and pomp. Gorgeous in attire, luxurious in feasting', vain of a numerous retinue, and fond of every kind of fashionable parade, he seemed to fancy that man was born to gratify all his appetites, and created for plea- sure only. About the year 246, Coecilius, a Christian minister of Carthage, became the instrument of Cyprian's conversion: on which account, and for the great love that he always afterwards bore for his adviser, he was termed Cfficiiius Cyprian. Before his baptism he studied the scriptures with care, and being struck with the beauties of the truths they contained, he de- termined to practise the virtues they recommended. He sold his estate, distributed the money among the poor, dressed himself in plain attire, and commenced a life of austerity and solitude. Soon after his baptism he was made a presbyter; and beiQgf greatly admired for his virtues and his works, on the death of Donatus, in a. d. 248, he was al- most unanimously elected bishop of Carthage. The care of Cypriaa not only extended over Carthage, but to Numidia and Mauritania. In all his transactions he took great care to ask the advice of hia clergy, knowing that unanimity alone could be of service to the church : this being one of his maxims, " That the bishop Avas in the church, and the church in the bishop ; so that unity can only be preserved by a close connexion be- tween the pastor and his flock." In the year 250, he was publicly proscribed by the emperor Decius, under the appellation of Ccecilius Cyprian, bishop of the Christians; and the universal cry of the Pa- gans, was, "Cyprian to the lions! Cyprian to the beasts ! " The bishop, however, withdrew from the rage of the populace, and his effects were immediately confiscated. During his retirement he wrote thirty pious letters to his flock ; but several schisms that then crept into the church gave him great uneasiness. The rigour of the persecution abating, he returned and did every thing in his power to expunge erroneous opinions and false doctrines. A terrible plague now breaking out at Carthage, it was, as usual, laid to the charge of the Christians ; and the magis- trates began to persecute according- ly, which occasioned an epistle from them to Cyprian, in answer to which he vindicates the cause of Christianity*. Cyprian was brought before the proconsul Aspasius Paternus, a. d. 257, when being commanded to conform to the religion of the em- pire, he boldly made a confession * Cyprian was of an uncommonly meek and amiable disposition, and though he neither wanted prudence nor circumspection, he was so modest that he never attempted any thing without first consulting his partisans. He used to de- clare that he had visions and revelations concerning the events that were to affect the Christian church. St. Augustine says, that he was very diligent in read- ing, especially the works of TertuUian, wbnm h^ u*ed to call his " a'.aster." 3 3-2 BOOK OF MAKTYRS. of his faith. This, ho?rever, did not occasion hi* death, but an or- der was made for his banishment, which exiled him to a little city on the Libyan sea. On the death of the proconsul who banished him, he returned to Carthage, but was soon after seized, and carried be- fore the new governor, who con- demned him to be beheaded : and on the 14th of September, a. d. 258, this sentence was executed. His disciples who were mar- tyred in this persecution, were, Lucius, Flavian, Victoricus, Re- mus, Montanus, Donatian, Julian, and Primolus. MARTYRDOM OF 300 CHRISTIANS. Perhaps one of the most dread- ful events in the history of mar- tyrdom was that which took place at Utica, where 300 Christians Avere, by the orders of the pro- consul, placed around a burning- lime-kiln. A pan of coals and in- cense being^ prepared, they were commanded either to sacrifice to Jupiter, or be thrown into the kiln. Unanimously refusing they bravely jumped into the pit, and were suffocated immediately. Fructuosus, bishop of Tarragon, in Spain, and his two deacons, Augurius and Eulogius, for avow- ing themselves Christians, were consimied by fire. Malchus, Alex- ander, and Priscus, three Chris- tians of Palestine, with a woman of the same place, voluntarily ac- cused themselves of being Chris- tians : lor which they were sen- tenced to be devoured by tigers, which sentence w as accordingly executed. Donatilla, Maxima, and Secunda, three virgins of Tuburga, had gall and vinegar given them to drink, were then severely scourged, tormented on a gibbet, rubbed with lime, scorched on a gridiron, worried by wild beasts, and at last beheaded. Pontius, a native of the city of Simela, near the Alps, being ap- prehended as a Christian, was tor- tured on the rack, worried by wild beasts, half burnt, then beheaded, and lastlv thro\A n into the river ; and Protus and Ilyacinthus like- wise suffered martyrdom about the same period. SINGULAR ACCOUNT OF A CHRISTIAN! LADY. Phillippus, governor of Alexan- dria, had a daughter named Eu- genia, who was singHiIarly beauti- ful, had received a lilserul educa- tion, and, having l)een much in the company of Christians, had em- braced their faith. To avoid the persecutions at this time carried on, she eloped from her father's house, and resorted to hear the readings of Helenus, an aged bi- shop. For the purpose of con- cealment, she assumed male at- tire ; and, calling herself Euge- nius, Avas admitted into a monas- tery, or society of Christians, in the suburbs of Alexandria, of which, at length, by her learning and virtue, she became the head. Here she |)er{ormed many mi- racles, and among others who were cured by her, was a certain matron of Alexandria, named Me- lancia, who supposing her to be a man, conceived a criminal pas- sion for her, and so far lost all sense of virtue and decorum, as to solicit her to gratify her desires. ■ Eugenius exhorted her to continue in the paths of virtue ; but Me- lancia, enraged at the refusal, and fearful of exposure, determined to anticipate the accusation, and therefore immediately charged Eugenius, and the other members of the Christian communily, ^vith attempting to debauch lier. This matter being heard before Philip - pus, and Melancia being esteemed virtuous, the accusation gained credit, especiall}' as it was brought against the Christians. Then Eu- geniiis perceiving that she and her fellow-believers were in imaii- nent danger of death on this in- famous charge, and that it was now no time for dissimulation, de- sired of the judge to allow her 'fjnie and place to make manifest tb him the truth ; which being granted, she disclosed to him. that ibhe was his daughter, and that hei EIGHTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 33 companions were Protheus and lliacintlius, two pious eunuchs; txplainiiig to him and to her breth- ren, tlie cause of l>er departure from them. By tliis iiarrati(;n they were conviiiced of her inno- cence, and her maliijnant accuser was utterly confoundeii. Philip- pus was afterwards converted to Christianity, made bishop of Alex- andria, and suffered martyrdom. Eugenia, after the death of her father, returning to Rome with Pro- theus and Hiacinthus, and having there converted Baaiiia, (a lady who was to have Ijeen married to a pagan, but now refused, in conse- quence of wliicli she was beheaded), was assailed with various kinds of death, from all of which she was delivered by the miraculous inter- ference of Heaven; first, being tied to a great stone, and cast into tlie Tiber, where she was pre- vented from, drowning; then put into the hot-baths, when the fires were extinguished, and she pre- served ; lastly, being cast into a prison to die of hunger, she was fed by a supernatural hand. Martyrdom of a Christia7i Lady. fATE OF THr EMPEIIOK VALEIUAN^ This tyrant, who had so long and so terril>ly persecuted the Christians, was taken prisoner by Saphores, king of Persia, who carried him into his own country, and there treated him with the^ most unexampled indignity, mak- ing him kneel down as the mean- rOX'S MARTYRS. est slave, and treadifig upon him as a footstool when he mounted his horse, saying, in a vaunting manner, "This posture is a greater proof which way the victory went, than all the pictures the Roman artists can draw. ' Having kept him for the space of seven years in this abject state of slavery, he at last caused hi* 34 BOOK OF MARTYRS. eyes to be put out, thoiiijh he was then eighty-three years of age : and his desire of revenge not beins^ satisfied, he soon after or- dered his body to be fliiyed ahve, and rubbeti with salt, under which torments he expired. Gailienus, the son of Valerian, succeeded him a. d. 260, and dur- ing his reii^n, the empire suffered many commotions, particularly earthqualves, pestilence, inunda- tions, intestine broils, and incur- sions of barbarians, this emperor reflectinn;, tliat when liis father fa- voured tlie Cliristians lie prosper- ed, and that when he persecuted them iie was unsuccessful, deter- mined to relax the persecution ; so THE NINTH GENERAL PERSEOUTIO [n the year 274, the emperor Aurelian commenced a persecution against the Christians; the princi- pal of tlie sufferers was Felix, bi- shop of Rome. This prelate was advanced to the Roman see in 274, and was beheadt-d in the same year, on the 22(1 of December. Agape- tus, a young gentleman, wlio sold his estate, and gave the money to the poor, was seized as a Chris- tian, tortured, and then brought to Prisneste, a city within a day's journey of Rome, where he was beheaded. These are the only martyr left upon record during this reign, as it was soon put a stop to by the emperor being murdered by his own domestics, at Byzantium. Aurelian was succeeded by Taci- tus, who svas foll(jv\ed by Probus, as was the latter by Cams : this emperor being killed by a thunder- storm, his sons, Carinus and Nu- merian, succeeded him ; and dur- ing all these I'eigns, the church en- joyed rest. Diocletian mounting the imperial throne, a. D; 284, at first shewed great favour to the Christians. In the year 286, he associated Maxi- mian with him in the empire ; and the following Christians were put to death before any general perse- cution broke out — Felician and Primus, two brothers. They were seized by an order from the im- ihat (a few martyrs excepted) the church enjoyed peace lor some years. The chief of those few mar- tyrs, was Marnius, a centurion, who being apprehended as a Chris- tian, had but three hours allowed him to deliberate, whether he would sacrifice to the pagan dei- ties, or become a martyr; and wa- vering during this interval, a Chris- tian prelate placed the gospel and a sword before him, and demanded which he would choose. Marnius took the sword without hesitation. On meeting again with the go- vernor, he made a noble confession of his faith, and was soon after be- headed, in the year 262. N UNDER THE KOMAN EMPERORS, perial court ; and owning them- selves Christians, were accordingly scourged, tortured, and finally be- headed. Marcus and Marcellia- nus were twins, natives of Rome, and of noble descent. Their pa- rents were heathens, but the tutors to wiiom the education of the chil- dren was intrusted, brought them up as Christians. Being appre- hended on account of their faith, they were severely tortured, and then sentenced to be beheaded. A respite of a montli was obtained for them by their friends, when their father, mother, and all their relations, attempted to bring them back to paganism, but in vain. At last their constancy subdued their persuaders, and their parents and whole family became converts to a faith 'they had just before con- demned. Tranquillinus, the father of the two young men, was sent for by the prefect, to give him an account of the success of his endeavours; when he confessed, that so far from having persuaded his sons to forsake the faith they had em- braced, he was become a Chris- tian himself. He then stopped till the magistrate had recovered from his surprise, and resuming his dis- course, leused such powerful ar- guments, that he made a convert of him, who soon after sold his es- NINTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 33 tate, rosis^iied liis coimuand, and bpeiit the remainder of his clays in a pious rotiremtMit. Tlie prefect whu succeeded the above-mentioned convert, had no- thing of tlie disposition of iiis pre- decessor: he was morose and se- vere, anil soon seized upon the whole of tiiis Christian race, wlio were accordingly martyred, by be- ing tied to posts, and having their feet pierceJ with nails. After re- maining in this situation for a day and night, their sufferings were put an end to by thrusting lances tlirough their bodies. Zoe, the wife of the gaoler who liad the care of the before-men- tioned martyrs, being greatly edi- fied by their discourses, had a de- sire to become a Christian : this, as the was dumb with a palsy, slie could only express by gestures. They gave her instructions in the faitii, and told her to pray in her heart to God to relieve her from her disorder. She did so, and was at length relieved : for her para- lytic disorder by degrees left her, and her speech returned again. This enforced her belief, and con- firmed her a Christian : and her husband, finding her cured, be- came a convert himself. These conversiims made a great noise, and the proselytes were appre- hended. Zoe was commanded to sacrifice to i\Iars, whicli refusing, she was hanged upon a tree, and a fire of straw lii^lited under her. When her bcjdy wus taken down, it was thrown into a river, with a large stone tied to it, m order to bink it. Tibertius, a native of Rome, was of a family of rank and distinction. Being accused as a Christian, he was commanded either to sacrifice to idols, or to walk upon burning coals. He chose the latter, and passed over thetn without damage ; when Fabian passed sentence upon him that he should be beheaded : which was performed in the month of August, A. D. 286, and his body was afterwards buried by some pi- ous Christians. MASSACItE OF A WlIoLF. LEGION OF CHiMSriAN SOLDIEilS. A very re'niarkable alfair occurred in a. D. 236. A legion of soldiers, consisting of Gt)6fi men, coiUainecl none but Christians. This legion was called the Thel)an legion, he- cause the men had been raised in Thebais : they were (juartered in the East, till the emperor j\Iaximiaii ordered them to march to Gaul, to assist him against the rebels of Burgundy; when passing the Alps under the commanil of Mauritius, Candidus, and Exnpernis, they at lengtii joined the emperor. About this time, Maximian ordered a ge- neral sacrifice, at which the whole army weie to assist; and he com- manded, that they should take oaths of allegiance, Piid swear, at tlie same time, to assist hiin in the extirp;ition of Christianity in Gaul. Terrified at these ordeis, each individual of tlie Tlieban legion absolutely refused eitlier to sacri- fice, or take the oaths prescribed. This so greatly enraged Maximian, that he ordered the legicjii to be decimated, that is, every tenth man to be selected from the rest, and put to the sword. This cruel order having been put into execution, those who remained alive were still inflexible, when a second decima- tion took place, and again every tenth man of those living were put to the svvoid. But this second severity made no more impression than the first; the soldiers preserved their fortitude, and their principles; but, by the advice of their oiScers, drew up a remonstrance to the emperor, in which they told him, " that they were his subjects and his soldiers, but could not at the same time forget the Almighty ; that they re- ceived their pay from him, and their existence from God. While your commands (said they) are not contradictory to those of our com- mon master, we shall always be ready to obey, as we have been hi- therto; but when the orders of our prince and those of the Almighty differ, we must always obey the 36 BOOK OF MARTYRS. latter. Our arms are devoted to the emperor's use, and shall be di- rected against his enemies ; but we cannot submit to stain our hands with effusion of Christian blood; and how, indeed, could you, O emperor, be sure of our allegiance and fidelitj, should we violate our obhgation to our God, in whose service we were solemnly engaged before we entered the arrwsy? You commtMid us to search out, and to destroy tlie Christians: ix is not necessary to Ioi>k any flirther for persons of that denomination ; we ourselves are such^ and we glory in the name. We saw our coiripa- nioiis fell without the least oppo- sition or murmuring, and thought them happy in dying for the sake of Christ. Nothing shall make us lift up our hands against our sove- reign ; we had rather die wrong- fully, and by that means preserve our innocence, than live under a load of guilt r whatever you com- mand, we are ready to suffer: we confess ourselves to be Christians, and therefore cannot persecute Christians, nor sacrifice to idols." Such a declaration, it might be presumed, would have softened the emperor, but it had a contrary ef- fect; f(jr, enraged at their perse- verance and unanimity, he com- manded that the whole legion should be put to death, which was accordingly executed by the other troops, who cut them to pieces with their swords. This barbarous transaction hap- pened on the 22d of September, A. D. 286 ; and such was the inve- terate malice of Maximian, that he sent to destroy every inan of a few detachments that had been drafted from the Theban legion, and dis- patched to Italy. A veteran soldier of another le- gion, whose name was Victor, met the executioners of this bloody bu- siness. As they appeared rather merry, he inquired into the cause of their jocularity, and being in- formed of the whole affair, he sharply reproved them for their barbarity. This excited their cu- riosity to ask him if he was of the same faith as those who had suf- fered. On his answering in the affirmative, several of the soldiers fell upon him, and dispatched him. ALBAN, THE FIRST BRITISH MAR- TYR. Alban, from whom St. Alban's, in Hertfordshire, received its name, was the first British martyr. He was originally a pagan, anxl being of a very liumane disposition, he sheltered a Christian ecclesiastic, named Amphibalus, who was pur- sued on account of his religion. The piotj* example, and edifying discourses of the refugee, made a great impression on the mind of Aiban; he longed' to liecome a member of a religion which charm- ed him ; the liigitive minister, happy in the opportunity, took greafi pains to instruct him; and, before his discovery, perfected Alban's conversion. Alban now took a firm resolution to preserve the sentiments of a Christian, or to die the death of a martyr. The enemies of Amphi- balus having intelligence of the place where he was secreted, came to the house of Alban, in order to apprehend him. The noble host, desirous of protecting his guest, changed clothes with him, in order to facilitate his escape; and whea the soldiers came, offered himself up as the person for whom they were seeking. Being accordingly carried before the governor, the deceit was immerfiiitely discover- ed; and Amphrbalas being absent, that officer determined to wreafe his vengeance upon Afban: with this view he commanded the pri- soner to advance to the aftar, and sacrifice to the pagan deities. The brave Alban, however, refused to comply with the idolatrous injunc- tion, and boldly professed himself to be a Christian. The governor therefore ordered him to be scourg- ed, which punishment he bore with great fortitude, seeming to acquire new resolution from his sufferings : he was then beheaded. TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 37 The venerable Bede states, that, upon tJiis occasion, the executioner suddenly became a convert to Christianity, and. entreated pernnis- sion either to die farAiban or with him. Obtaifliwg the Jatter request, they were beheaded by a soldier, who voluntarily undertook the task. This happened on the 22d of June, A. D. 287, at Verulam, now St. Alban's, in Hertfordshire, where a magnificent church was erected to liis memory, about the time of Cojistantine the Great. This edi- fice was destroyed in the Saxon wars, but was rebuilt by Offa, king of Mercia, and a monastery erected adjoining to it, some remains of which are still visible. MARTYRDOM OF ST. FAITH, AND OTHERS. Faith, a Christian female, of Aquitaine, in France, being in- formed that there was a design to seize her, anticipated the intention, by surrendering herself a prisoner; and being inflexible in her faith, was ordered to be broiled upon a gridiron, and then beheaded, which sentence was executed a. d. 287. — Capacius, a Chrdstiao, concealed himself from the persecutors, but beiug infoj-pied of tiie fortitude of Faith, he openly avowed his reli- gion, and delivered himself up to the governor, who had him first tortured, and then beheaded. — Quintin was a Christian, and a na- tive of Rome, but he determined to attempt tiie propagation of the gospel ia Gaul. He accordingly went to Picardy, attended by one Lucian, and they preached together at Amiens; after which, Lucian went to Beauvais, where he suf- fered martyrdom. Quintin, how- ever, remained in Picardy, and was very zealous in his ministry. His continual prayers to the Al- mighty were to increase his faith, and strengthen his faculties to pro- pagate the gospel. Being seized upon as a Christian, he was stretch- ed with pulleys till his joints were dislocated : his body was then torn with wire scourges, and boilmg oil and pitch poured on his naked flesh : lighted torches were applied to his sides and arm-pits ; and after he had heen thus tortured, he was remanded back to prison. Varus, tire governor, being obliged to repair to Vermandois, ordered Quintin to be conducted thither under a strong guard ; and here lie died of tlije barbarities he had suffered, on the 31st of October, A. D. 287 ; his body was sunk in the Sororae. THE TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER THE ROMAN EMPEROBS. Notwithstanding the efforts of tie heathens to exterminate the Christians, and abolish their mode of faith, yet they increased so ^peatly, as to become formidable by their numbers. They, however, forgot the precepts of their meek prototype, and instead of adopting his humility, they gave themselves up to vanity, by dressing gaily, liv- ing sumptuously, building stately edifices for churches, &c. wbicjh <;i:£3ted a general envy, and parti- cularly, excited the hatred of Gale- rms, the adopted son of Diocletian, who, stimulated by his mother, a bigoted pagan, persuaded the em- perQr to cptnmence a |>er6eciition. It accprdit)gly began on the 25d of February, a. d- S03, that being the da.y on which the TerminaUa were celebrated, and on which, as the pagans boasted, theyjioped to put a termination to Clifisti;inity. The persecution began in Nico- demia; the prefect of that city re- paired, with a great number of offi- cers and assistants, to the church of the Christians, where, having forced open the doors, tliey seized upon all the sacred books, and committed them to the flames. This transaction to the same undaunted and determined spirit, tliat tlicy ^^■ere siiperstiti.jubly deceived in adoring senseless idols, and evi- dently misled by the machinations of tiie devil himself. For tlie bold- ness of tiiis speech, his jaws were ordered to be broken. IJe was then stri|)ped, scourj;ed, loaded with rhains, and thrown into a dismrd dungeon, to remain there till the trials of the other two prisoners. — Probus was then brought before Maxinins, who, as usual, asked him his name. Undauntedly tlie prisoner replied, the most valuable name he could boast of was that of a Christian. To this Maximus replied in the following words: " Your name of Cliristian will be of little service to you, be there- fore guided by me; sacrifice to the gods, engage my friendship, and the favour of the emperor." — Probus nobly answered, " that as he had relinquished a considerable fortune to become a soldier of Clirist, it might appear evident, (hat he neither cared for his friend- ship, nor the favour of the empe- ror."— Probns was then scourged ; and Demetrius, the officer, observ- ing to him how his blood flowed, advised him to comply ; but his only answer was, that those seve- rities were agreeable to him. " What !" cried Maximus, " does he still persist in his madness .""' To whicli Probus rejoined, " that character is badly bestowed on one who refuses to worship idols, or, what is worse, devils." After being scourged on the back, he was scourged on the belly, which he suffered with as much intrepi- dity as before, still repeating, " the more ray body suffers and loses blood, the more my soul will grow vigorous, and be a gainer." He was then committed to gaol, load- ed with irons, and his hands and feet stretched upon the stocks. — Andronicus was next brought up, when, being asked the usual ques- tions, he said, *' I am a Christian, a native of Ephesus, and descend- ed from one of the first families in that city." He was ordered to un- dergo punishments similar to those of Tarachus and I'robus, and then to be remanded to prise n. Having been confined some days, the three prisoners were aj;ain brought before Maximus, who be- gan first to reason with Tarachus, saying, that as old age was ho- noured from the supposition of its being accompanied by wisdom, he was in liopesthat what had already past, must, upon deliberation, liave caused a change in his sentiments. Finding himself, however, mis- taken, he ordered him to be tor- tured by various means; particu- larly, fire was placed in the palms of his liands; he was hung up by his feet, and smoked with wet straw; and a mixture of salt and vinegar vvas poured into his nostrils; and lie was then again remanded to liis dungeon. — Probus being again called, and asked if he would sacrifice, replied, " I come better prepared than before ; for what I have already suffered, has only confirmed and strenghtened me in my resolution. Employ your whole power upon me, and you will find, that neither you, nor your masters, the emperors, nor the gods whom you serve, nor the devil, who is your father, shall oblige me to adore gods whom I know not." — The governor, however, attempted to reason with him, paid the most extravagant praises to the pagan deities, and pressed him to sacri- iice to Jupiter; but Probus turned his casuistry into ridicule, and said, " Shall I pay divine honours to Jupiter; to one who married his own sister; to an infamous de- bauchee ; as he is even acknow- ledged to have been by your own priests and poets ?" Provoked at this speech, the governor ordered him to be struck upon the mouth, for uttering what he called blas- phemy : his body was then seared with hot irons, he was put to the rack, and afterwards scourged, hi s head was then shaved, and red hot coals placed upon the crown ; and after all these tortures, he was again sent to prison. TENTH GENER/vL PERSECUTION. 43 When Aiidrnnicus was again broiiirlit before Maximus, tlie latter attempted to deceive him, hy pre- tendiiis: that Taraclius aiifl Probiis had repented of tlieir obstinacy, and owned tlie ijods of the empire. To this tlie prisoner answered, " Lay not, O i:;(jvernor, such a weakness to the charije of those who have appeared here before inc in this cause, nor imagine it to be in your power to shake my fixed resolution with artful speeches. I cannot believe that they have disobeyed the laws of their fathers, renounced their hopes in our God, and consented to your extravagant orders: nor will I ever fall short of them in faith and dependance upon our common Saviour: thus armed, I neither know your gods, nor fear your authority; fulfil your threats, execute your most sanguinary inventions, and employ every cruel art in your power on me ; I am prepared to bear it, for the sake of Christ." — For this an- swer he was cruelly scourged, and his wounds were afterwards rub- bed with salt; but being well again in a short time, the governor reproached the gaoler for having suffered some physician to attend to him. The gaoler declared, that no person whatever had been near him, or the other prisoners, and that lie would wiUingly forfeit his head, if any allegation of the kind could be proved against him. Andronicub corroborated the tes- timony of the gaoler, and added, that the God whom he served, was the most powerful of phy- sicians. These three Christians were brought to a third . examination, when they retained their con- stancy, were again tortured, and at length ordered for execution. — Being brought to the amphitheatre, several beasts were let loose upon them; but none of the animals, though hungry, would touch them. Maximus became so surprised and incensed at this circumstance, that he severely reprehended the keep- er, and ordered him to produce a beast that would execute the business for whicli he \\as wanted. The keeper then brought out a large bear, that had that day de- stroyed three r .en ; hut this crea- ture, and a fierce lioness, also re- fused to touch the Christians. Finding the design of destroying tliem by the means of wild beasts inelVectual, Maximus ordered them to be slain by a sword, which was accordingly executed on the 11th of October, a. d. 303. 1 hey all declared, previous to their martyr- dom, that as death was the com- mon lot of all men, they wished to meet it for the sake of Christ; and to resign that life to faith, which must otherwise be the prey of disease. HORRID MARTYRDOM OF ROMANUS. Romanus, a native of Palestine, was deacon of the church of Cffi^area at the time of the com- mencement of Diocletian's perse- cution. He was at Antioch when llie imperial order arrived for sa- crificing to idols, and was greatly afflicted to see many Christians, through fear, submit to the idola- trous mandate, and deny their faith to preserve their existence. While censuring some of them for their conduct, he was informed against, and soon after apprehend- ed. Being brought to the tribunal, he confessed himself a Christian, and said he was willing to suffer any thing which they might be pleased to inflict upon him for his confession. When condemned, he was scourged, put to the rack, his body torn with hooks, his flesh cut with knives, his face scarified, his teeth beat from tlieir sockets, and his hair plucked up by the roots. Thus cruelly mangled, he turned to the governor, and very calmly thanked him for what he had done, and for having opened for him so many mouths to preach the doc- trines of Christianity; "for," says he, " evefy wound is a mouth, to sing the praises of the Lord."— He was soon after ordered to be strangled; which sentence was ex- ecuted on the 17 th of November, A. D. 303. 44 BOOK OF MARTYRS. MAKTTKDOM OF M AUCFLLINUS AND OTHERS. iMarcelliuHs v\as an ecclesiastic rit Rome ; being apprelienderl on account of his religion, he was or- flered to be privately executed in tlie forest, and was accordingly be- lieaded tliere. Peter, a Christian, apprehended for the same cause, was executed at the same time and place. Also about this period, Smaragdus, Lar- gus, and Cyriacus, a deacon of the Christian ciiuich, were martyred ; but the mode of their deaths is not specified. Susanna, the niece of Caius, bishop of Rome, was pressed by the emperor Diocletian to marry a noble pagan, who was nearly re- lated to him : but she refused the honour, on account of her being a Christian; which so enraged the emperor, tliat she was immedi- ately afterwards beheaded by his order. Dorotheus, the high cliamberlain of the household to Diocletian, was a Christian, and took great pains to make converts; and he was assisted by Gorgonius, another Christian, and one belonging to the palace : they were both Irigh 4n the emperor's favour, but they soon proved that worldly honours, and temporary pleasures, were nothing when set in .competition with the joys of immortahty; for being in- formed against, they were first tor- tured, and then strangled. There was one Peter, an eunuch i)elonging to the emperor, who was a Christian .of singular humility; insomuch, that li« did any servile office to serve the afflicted, and gave whatever he possessed to those who needed assistance. Having been informed against as a Chris- tian, and confessing the charge, he was scourged till his flesh was torn in a terrible manner; and then salt and vinegar were thrown upon the wounds; and after suffering these tortures with the utmost tranquillity, he was laid on a grid- iron, and broiled over a slow fire, till he expired in the greatest agony. CONVERSION AND DEATH OF CYPRIAN. Cyprian, known by the title of the nr.igicinn, to distinguish him from Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, was a native of Antioch. lie re- ceived a liberal education in his youth, and applied himself to as- trology ; after which he travelled through India, Et:ypt, Greece, tzc. He afterwards settled near Baby- lon, and being skilled in the Chal- dean mysteries, he employed his talents in endeavouring to draw women from chastity and conjugal faith, and in persecuting the Chris- tians, and ridiculing Christianity. He became acquainted withjustina, a young lady of Antioch, of liigh birth, beauty, and accomplishments, who had been educated in idolatry, but being converted to Christianity, she induced her father and mother to embrace the same faith. A pagan gentleman falling in love with her, and not being able to obtain a favourable return to his addresses, applied for assistance to Cyprian, who undertook the de- sign, but with a treacherous intent; for, under the pretence of acting for his friend, he determined, if possible, to possess the lady himself. To effect this, he employed all his skill ; but his endeavours proving ineffectual, he was fully convinced that a superior ppwer protected her from his evil intentions. His re- flections, on this account, caused hira to search into the truths of Christianity; and his inquiry became so beneficial, that he renounced the errors of paganism. His repent- ance was truly sincere; he deter- mined to reform his conduct, and to make every amends in his power for the crimes he had committed. He therefore burnt his books of astrology and magic, received bap- tism, and bec tolerable health. TJiis speedy recovery and pre- servation had such an effect upon the keepers, that it became the means of their conversion. Dacian, however, instead of being softened by these uncommon circumstances, was enraged at the triumph of Vincent over his cruelties; and gave orders for new tortures to be prepared for him, of so severe a nature, as to make him sink under them. But bis malice was again disappointed; for before the in- struments could be prepared, God took him to himself, and he died with all the serenity of a good 46 BOOK OF MARTYRS. conscience, and as luucli calmness as if he liud only sank into a gentle sleep. Daciiin tlien ordered lliat liis bfidy should be exposed in tiie fields to tlie birds of prey; but they not ofterint^ to touch it, he conimauded that it siicjuid he thrown into the river, which was di)ne ac- cordingly, flis deaili happened on the U2d of January, 30 i. PfellSECUTIONS IN AFIIICA. It was in this year the persecu- tion of Diocletian attain began to prevail, and many Christiana were put to cruel tortures, and the most painful deatlis. I'he most eminent of these were, Saturninus, a priest of Albitina, a town of Africii : he used to preach and administer tfie sacrament to a society of Chris- tians, who privately assembled at the house of Oclavius Felix : hav- ing been informed against, Satur- ninus, with four of his children, and several other persons, were apprehended; and that their pu- nishment might be the more ex- emplary and public, they were sent to Carthage, the capital of Africa, where they were examined bef tliem, to partake of the victims, and to deliver up iier Looks relative to Christianity. But she positively refused to com- ply with any of them: the f;overnor asked her, VVlio it was tliat per- suaded her and lier sisters to keep those hooks and writinjjs? Sije answered, It was that God who connnauded tliem to love him to the last; for wiiich reason slie was re- solved to submit to he buried alive rather than i;ive them up into the hands of his professed enemies. When tile governor found that he could make no impression on her, he ordered her to be exposed naked in the streets; which shame- ful order having been executed, she was burnt, April 1, A. D. i304, at the same place where her sisters had suffered before iier. One Ai;atiio, a man of a pious turn ofniind,wicii Cassice, Piiilippa, and I'Lutycliia, were martyred about the same time; as was Marcellinus, bishop of Rome, who succeeded Caius in that sec. He was greatly perplexed during this persecution; and having strongly opposed pay- ing divine honours to Diocletian, who wished to exact them from the people, and to appear as a god, he was at length seized and committed to a dungeon. He suffered mar- tyrdom, by a variety of tortiires, in the year 304. MARTYRDOM OF TUEODOTUS AND OTHERS. Theotecnus, the governor of Dalmatia, whose cruelty could be equalled by nothing but his bigotry, received the mandate for persecut- ing the Christians with great satis- faction, and wrote the emperor word that he would do his utmost endeavours to root out Christianity from every place under his juris- diction. Thus encouraged by the governor, the pagans began to in- fonn against, abuse, and persecute the Christians. Great numbers were seized upon, and imprisoned; their goods were destroyed, and their estates confiscated. Many fled into the woods, or retired to caves, wiiere some supported theni- stlves by feeding upon roots, and others perished by famine. iMany were also starved in the city, by means of the following singular stiatagem : The governor gave strict orders, that no provisions whatever should be exposed U) sale in the markets, without having been first consecrated to the idols; hence the Christians were con}pelled to eat what had been otTered to the devil, or t(j retrain from food, and perish. i'he latter dreadful alter- native was chosen by many, who, to preserve the purity of their faith, heroically gave up their lives. In these dreadful times, Theo- dotus, a Christian innkeeper of Ancyra, did all that he could to comfort the imprisoned, and buried the bodies of several who had been martyred, though it was forbidden on pain of death. He likewise privately assisted many with food ; for having lain in a great sto' k of corn and wine, he sold it at prime cost. Polychronicus, a Christian, being seized, forfeited his faith, in order to preserve his life, and informed against his friend Theodotus, who, hearing of this treachery, surren- dered himself to the governor of his own accord. On his arrival in the court, he surveyed the instruments of tor- ture with a smile, and seemed totally regardless of their effects. When placed at the bar, the go- vernor informed him, that it was still in his power to save himself, by sacrificing to the gods of the empire ; " and," he continued, " if you renounce your faith in Christ, I promise you my friendship, and the emperor's protection, and will constitute you one of the magis- trates of the town." Theodotus displayed great cou- rage and eloquence in his answer: he absolutely refused to renounce his faith, declined the friendship of the governor, and protection of the emperor, and treated the idols with the greatest contempt. The pagans on this were in general 48 BOOK OF MARTYRS. extremely clamorous against the pri- soner, and demanded him to be im- mediately punished; the priests in particular rent their clothes, and tore' their chaplets, the badges of their offices, through rage. The governor complied with their desire, when Theodotus was scourged, torn with hooks, and then placed upon the rack. After this, vinegar was poured into his wounds, his flesh was seared with burning torches, and his teeth were knocked out of their sockets. He was then re- manded to prison; and as he went, pointing to his mangled body, he said to the people, " It was hut just that Christians should suffer for him who suffered for us all." — Five days afterwards, he was brought from prison, tortured, and then be- headed. There was one Victor, a native of Ancyra, accused by the priests of Diana of having abused their god- dess. For this imputed crime, he was seized upon, and committed to prison, his house plundered, his family turned out of doors, and his estate forfeited. When put to the rack, his lesolution failed, and he began to waver in his faith, through the severity of his torments. Being carried back to prison, in order to make a full recantation, God pu- nished him for his intended apos- tacy; for his wounds mortified, and put an end to his life. Seven aged women of Ancyra were about this time apprehended for their fuith; they were examined before the governor, who reviled their belief, ridiculed their age, and ordered them to be delivered over to some young libertines : on this, one of the fellows, more bold than the rest, seized upon the eldest of the women, named Tecusa, who thus addressed him: "What designs, child, can you have on us, who are worn out with age and in- firmities? I am now more than threescore and ten years old, my companions are not much younger; you may look on tis as so many rotten carcasses, as we shall soon be, for the governor after death re- fuses us burial." Then lifting up her veil, she shewed him her grey hairs, and added, " You may, perhaps, have a motlier, of nearly the same age as myself; thiis should give yon some respect for us." — The young men were so affected with this speech, that they desisted, and immediately returned to their homes. The governor, on the failure of his design of having them prosti- tuted, determined to compel tlieni to assist in the idolatrous rites of washing the goddesses Minerva and Diana : for in Ancyra it was the custom annually to wash the images of those goddesses; and the washing was considered as a material part of the adoratioit of the idols. Accordingly, they were forced to' the temple; but absolutely refusing to wash the idols, the governor was so enraged, that he ordered them all to have stones tied about their necks, and to be pushed into the' water intended for the washing, in which they were drowned. A (Jhristian, of the name of Ti- mothy, being carried before Urban, governor of Palestine, was sen- tenced to be burnt to death by a slow fire ; which sentence was exe- cuted at Gaza, on the 19th day of August, A. D. 304. ACTIONS OF PHILIP, BISHOP OF HEKACLEA. Philip, bishop of Ileraclea, had, in every act of his life, appeared as a good Christian ; the cliief of his disciples were Severus, a priest, and Hermes, a deacon, who all did much to promote the cause of Christianity. This worthy bishop was advised to secrete himself, in order to avoid the persecution ; but he reproved those who coun- selled him so to do, telling them that their merit would be en- hanced by their sufferings, and that death had no terror for the vir- tuous. He therefore publicly per- formed his duty. An officer, named Aristomachus, being employed to shut up the Christian church in Heraclea, Phi- lip took great pains to convince him, TENTH GENERAL PERSECUT[ON. 49 tliat the shutting^ iij) buildings made by hands could not destroy Chris- tianity, while the living temples of the Lord remained ; for the true faith consisted not in the places where God is adored, but in the hearts of those who adore God. But being denied entrance into the church where he used to preach, Philip took up his station at the door, and there exhorted the people to patience, perseverance, and godliness. I'or this he was seized and carried before the governor, who severely reprimanded him, asid then continued to speak sternly in these words: "Bring ail the vessels used in your worship, and the scriptures which you read and teach the people, and surrender them to me, before you are forced thereto by tortures." "If," replied the bishop, " you take any pleasure in seeing us sufler, we are prepared for the worst you can do. This in- firm body is in your power ; use it as you please. The vessels you demand shall be delivered np, for God is not honoured by gold and silver, but by the fear of his power ; but as to the sacred books, it is nei- ther proper for me to part with them, nor for you to receive them." This answer so much incensed the go- vernor, that he ordered him to the torture. Hermes, expressing him- self freely against such barbarities, was ordered to be scourged at the same time. Dreadful Suffering of the Primitive Martyrs. The pagans having proceeded the plate, and burnt the scrip- to the place where the scriptures tures. and the church plate were kept. When Philip was taken to the immediately seized them; they market place, he was ordered to lifewise unroofed the church, sacrifice to the Roman deities in walled up the doors, embezzled general, and to Hercules in parti- FOX'S MARTYRS. 50 BOOK OF MARTYRS. cular; in answer to which com- mand, he made an animated ad- dress on the real nature of the Deity; and conchided, that from what he had aheady said, it ap- peared that the heathens worsliip- ped what might lawfully be trod- den on, and made gods of such things as Providence had designed for their service. The governor then tried the con- stancy of Hermes, but tinding him as inflexible as the bishop, he com- mitted them both to prison. Soon after this, a new governor, named Justin, arrived ; but he was equally cruel as his predecessor. Philip was then dragged by the feet through the streets, severely scourged, and brought again to the governor, who charged him with obstinate rashness, in conti- nuing disobedient to the imperial decrees ; but he boldly replied, that "he was obliged to prefer heaven to earth, and to obey God rather than man." On this the governor immediately passed sen- tence on him to be burnt, which was executed accordingly, and he expired, singing praises to God in the midst of the fire. Hermes, for behaving in a similar manner, and Severus, who had surrendered himself up in order to suffer with his friends, met with the same fate. NUMEROUS MARTYRDOMS. Agricola was a Christian of so very amiable a disposition, that he even gained the esteem and admi- ration of the pagans. Being ap- prehended, however, he was cru- cified, in imitation of the death of our Saviour; and his body, toge- gether with the cross, was buried at Bologna, in Italy. , Vitalis, the servant and convert of the above Agricola, was seized upon the same account as his mas- ter, and being put to the severity of the torture, died under the hands of his tormentors. Carpophorus, Victorius, Seve- rus, and Severianus, were bro- thers, and ail were employed in places of great trust and honour in the city of Rome. Having ex- claimed against the worshipping of idols, they were apprehended, and scourged with the plumbetae, or scourges, to the ends of which were fastened leaden balls. This punishment was exercised with such cruelty, that the pious bro- thers fell martyrs to its severity. A Christian of Aquileia, named Chrysogonus, was beheaded by or- der of Diocletian, for having in- structed Anastasia, a young lady of that city, in the Christian faith. This young lady was descended from an illustrious Roman family. Her mother, named Flavia, was a Christian, and dying while her daughter was an infant, she be- queathed her to the care of Chry- sogonus, with a strict injunction to instruct her in the principles of Christianity. This Chrysogonus punctually performed ; but the fa- ther of the lady, who was a pagan, gave her in marriage to a person of his own persuasion, named Pub- lius, who was of a good family, but bad morals, and having spent his wife's and his own patrimony, he had the baseness to inform against her as a Christian. Publius soon after dying, his wife was released ; but continuing to perform many charitable actions to Christians, she was again ap- prehended, and delivered up to Florus, governor of Illyricum. Florus commanded that she should be put to the torture, when finding her constant in the faith, he or- dered lier to be burnt, which was executed on December 25, a.d. 304 ; the event taking place about a month after the martyrdom of Chrysogonus, her instructor. In the same year, Mouris and Thea, two Christian women of Gaza, were martyred in that city. The former died under the hands of her tormentors, and the latter perished in prison of the wounds she had received when tortured. Timothy, a deacon of Maurita- nia, and Maura his wife, had not been married above three weeks, when they were separated from each other by the persecution. TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 51 Timothy was carried before Ar- riamis, llie governor of Tliebais, Aviio did all in his power to induce him to embrace the pagan super- stition. But perceiving his en- deavoins vain, and knowing that Timothy had the keeping of the holy scriptures, the governor com- manded him to deliver them up, that they might be burnt : to which Timothy answered, " Had I chil- dren, I would sooner deliver them up to be sacrificed, than part from the word of God." The governor, much incensed at this reply, or- dered his eyes to be put out with red-hot irons, saying, " The books shall at least be useless to you, for you shall not see to read them." He endured the punishment with such patience, that the governor grew more exasperated, and or- dered him to be hung up by the feet, with a weight tied about his neck, and a gag in his mouth. This treatment he underwent with the greatest courage ; when some person acquainted the governor that he liad been but newly mar- ried to a wife, of whom he was ex- tremely fond. Arrianus accord- ingly ordered Maura to be sent for, and promised a handsome re- ward, with the life of her husband, if she could prevail upon him to sacrifice to the idols. Maura, wa- vering in her faith, tempted by a bribe, and impelled by an un- bounded aflection for lier husband, undertook the impious atl'air. When conducted to him, she as- sailed his constancy with all the persuasive language of affection. When the gag was taken out of bis mouth, in order to give him an opportunity of replying, instead of consenting to his wife's entreaties, as they expected, he greatly blamed her mistaken love, and declared his resolution of dying for the faith. Maura repeated her impor- tunities, till the martyr, her hus- band, reproached her so strongly with her weakness, that she re- turned to his way of thinking, and resolved to imitate his courage and fidelity, and either to accom- pany, or follow him to glory, Ti- 3 mothy advised her to repair her fault by declaring that resolution to the governor, by whose order she had undertaken the sinful commission. On which, being strengthened by his exhortations, and the grace of God, she went to Arrianus, and told him, that she was united to her husband in opi- nion as well as love, and was ready to suffer any thing to atone for her late crime, in wishing to make him an apostate. The go- vernor immediately ordered her to be tortured, which was executed M'ith great severity ; and after this Timothy and Maura were crucified near each other, a.d. 304. A bishop of Assisium, named Sabinus, refusing to sacrifice to Jupiter, and pushing the idol from him, had his hands cut off by the order of the governor of Tuscany. After patiently sufiering this bar- barity, he was committed to pri- son, where he remained a consi- derable time, without any assist- ance or relief but what he received from a Christian widow, whose blind grandson had been by him restored to sight. The governor, who was himself' afflicted with sore eyes, on hearing this intelligence, began to consider the behaviour of the Christians, and the tenets of Christianity, in a more favourable light, and sending for Sabinus, he informed him that he now entertained very different sentiments to what he had hitherto done, both with respect to him and his faith; then throwing himself at the feet of Sabinus, he en- treated him to afford him assist- ance, and to undertake the cure of his body and soul. The undissembled fervency with which he spoke, convinced Sabi- nus of his sincerity : he was ac- cordingly baptized, and the dis- order in his eyes immediately left them : this conversion of the go- vernor was followed by that of his whole family, and some of his friends. When the tyrant Maxi- mian was informed of these cir- cumstances, he immediately or- dered the governor and all liis fa- 52 BOOK OF MARTYRS. uiily to be belicadcd. Imme- dies burned to asLes, after wbielr diately after their execution, Sa- their ashes were thrown into some biniis was scourged to death; and river." two ecclesiastics, named Marce!- Amphianiis, of Ljcia, and a lus and Experanlius, who ofiici- scholar of Euscbius, pressing ated under Sabiinis, were scourg- through the crowd while the pro- ed in a most dreadful manner; clamation for sacriiicing to idols but remaining constant in their was read, he caught the governor faith, their (lesh was torn with Urbianus by the haiid, and se- hooks till they expired. This took verely reproved him for his wick- place in December, A.i>. 304. edness. On which the governor. It now happened that, weary of incensed at the freedom, ordere^l the toils of state, Diocletian aiid him to be put to the torture, and Maximiart resigned the imperial then thrown into the sea. diadem, and were succeeded by ^desius, brother of Amphianus, Constantius and Galerius ; the was, about the same time, mar- former, a prince of the most mild tyred at Alexandria, in a terrible and humane disposition ; and the manner, latter, remarkable for his tyranny Jnlitta, a Lycaonian of royal and cruelty. These divided the em- descent, was a Christian lady of pire into two equal governments; great humility, constancy, and in- Galerius ruling in the East, tegrity. When the edict for sa- and Constantius in the West ; crificing to idols was published at and the people in the two govern- Iconinm, she withdrew from that nients felt the effects of the differ- city, taking with her only her ent dispositions of the emperors; young sou Cyricus, and two fe- for those in the W^est were go- male servants. She was, how- verned in the mildest manner, but ever, seized at Tarsus, and being such as resided in the East felt carried before Alexander, the go- all the miseries of cruelty and op- vernor, she acknowledged that she pression. was a Christian. For this confes- sion her son was taken from her,^ DREADFUL PERSECUTIONS BY , , • ,• , , . . and she was immediately put to the rack, and tortured with great As Galerius bore an implacable severity, which she bore with hatred towards the Christians, we j)ious resignation. The child, are informed, that "he not only however, cried bitterly to get at condemned them to tortures, but his mother; when the governor, to be burnt, in slow fires, in this observing the beauty, and being- horrible manner : they were first melted at the tears of the infant, chained to a post, then a gentle took him upon his knee, and en- fire put to the soles of their feet, deavoured to pacify him. No- which contracted the callus till it thing, however, could quiet Cy- feil off from the bone: then 11am- ricus ; he still called upon his mo- beaux just extinguished were put ther, and at length, in imitation of to all parts of their bodies, so that her words, lisped out, " I am a they might be tortured all over ; Christian." TJiis innocent ex- and care was taken to keep them pression turned the governor's alive, by throwing cold water in compassion into rage; and throw- their faces, and giving them some ing the child furiously against the to wash their mouths, lest their pavement, he dashed out its throats should be dried up with l)rains. The mother, who from thirst, and choke them. Thus the rack Beheld the transaction, their miseries were lengthened out thanked the Almighty that her •whole days, till, at last, their child was gone before her ; and skins being consumed, and they she should have no anxietj' con- just ready to expire, were thrown cermng his future welfare. To into a great fire, and had their bo- complete the torture, boiling pitch TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 53 ■\v;is poured oii lier feet, her sides were torn with hooks, and she was finally beheaded, April 16, A. D. 306. PanfaleoH, a native of Nicome- dia, was instructed by his father in the learning of the pagans, and was taught the precepts of the gospel by his mother, who was a Christian. Applying to the study of medicine, he became eminent in that science, and was appointed physician to the emperor Gaierius. The name of Pantaleon in Greek signifies humane, and the appella- tion well suited his nature, for he was one of the most benevolent men of his time ; but his extraor- dinary reputation roused the jea- lousy of the pagan physicians, who accused him to the emperor. Ga- ierius, on finding him a Christian, ordered him to be tortured, and then beheaded, which sentence Avas accordingly executed on July 27, A. D. 305. Hermolaus, an aged and pious Christian, and an intimate acquaint- ance of Pantaleon, suifered mar- tyrdom for his faith on the same day, and in the same manner. Julitta, of Cappadocia, was a lady of distinguished abilities, great virtue, and uncommon cou- rage : she was put to death in con- sequence of the accusation of a heathen who had usurped her estates, and bribed the judges in his favour. Refusir.g to offer in- cense to the pagan deities, she was burnt to death. Eustratius, secretary to the go- vernor of Armenia, was thrown into a furnace, for exhorting some Chris- tians, who had been apprehended, to persevere in their faith. Auxen- tius and Eugenius, two of Eustra- tius's adherents, were burnt at Nicopolis ; Mardarius, another friend of his, expired under tor- ment ; and Orestes, a military offi- cer, was broiled to death on a gridiron, for .wearing a golden cross at his breast. Theodore, a Syrian by birth, a soldier and a Christian, set fire to the temple of Cybele, in Amasia, through indignation at the idolatrous worship practised in it, for which he was scourged, and on February 18, A. D. 806, burnt to death. Dorothea, a Christian of Cappa- docia, was, by the governor's order, placed under the care of two wo- men, who had become apostates to the faith, in order that she might be induced to follow their example. But her discourses had such an effect upon the two apostates, that they were reconverted, and put to death ; soon after which, Dorothea was tortured, and then beheaded. Pancratius was a native of Phrygia, but being made a Chris- tian, and brought to Rome, by his uncle, he there suffered martyrdom. Cyrinus, Nazarius, Nabor, and Basilides, four Christian officers, at Rome, were thrown into prison for their faith, scourged with rods of wire, and then beheaded. Two Roman military officers, Nicander and Marcian, were ap- prehended on the same account. As they were both men of great abilities, the utmost endeavours were made to induce them to re- nounce Christianity ; but being without eff"ect, they were ordered to be beheaded. The execution was attended by vast crowds of the populace, among whom were the wives of the two sulferers. The consort of Nicander was a Chris- tian, and encouraged her hus- band to meet his fate with fortitude ; but the wife of Marcian being a pagau, entreated her husband to save himself, for the sake of her and her cliild. Marcian, however, reproved her for her idolatry and folly, but tenderly embraced her and the infant. Micander likewise took leave of his wife in the most affectionate manner, and then both, with great resolution, received the crown of martyrdom. Besides these there were many others, whose names and sufferings arc not recorded by the ancient his- torians. MARTYRDOMS IN NAPLES. In the kingdom of Naples several martyrdoms took place : in particu- lar, Januarius, bisliop of Benevcn- 54 BOOK OF MARTYRS. turn; Sosius, deacon of Miscne; Proculus, another deacon ; Eiity- ches and Acutins, two laymen ; Festus, a deacon ; and Dcsideiins, a curate, were all condemned, by tlie governor of Campania, to be devoured by wild beasts for pro- fessing Christianity. The animals, however, not touching them, they were beheaded. Marcellus, a centurion of the Trajan legion, was posted at Tan- gier, and being a Christian, suflered martyrdom, under the following cir- cumstances : While he was there, the empe- ror's birth-day was kept, and the sacrifices to the pagan idols made a considerable part of that solemnity. All the subjects of the empire were expected, on that occasion, to con- form to the blind religion of their prince ; but Marcellus, who had been well instructed in the duties of his profession, expressed his detestation of those profane prac- tices, by throwing away his belt, the badge of his military character, at the head of his company, de- claring aloud that he was a soldier of Christ, the eternal king. He then quitted his arms, and added, that from that moment he ceased to serve the emperor j and that he thus expressed his contempt of the gods of the empire, which were no better than deaf and dumb idols. " If," coutinned he, " their imperial majesties impose the obli- gation of sacrificing to them and their gods, as a necessary condi- tion of their service, I here throw up my commission, and quit the army." This behaviour occasioned an order for his being beheaded. Cassian, secretary to the court which tried Marcellus, express- ing liis disapprobation of such proceedings, was ordered into custody ; when avowing himself a Christian, he met with the same fate. MARTYRDOM OF QUIRINUS, AND OTHERS. Quirinus, bishop of Siscia, being carried before Matenius, the go- vernor, was ordered to sacrifice to the pagan deities ; but refusing', was ordered to be severely scourg- ed. During the infliction of this punishment, the governor urgently pressed him to sacrifice, and oil'ered to make him a priest of Jupiter; to which Quirinus replied, " I am already engaged in the priestly office, while 1 thus offer a sacrifice to the true God. I scarce feel my torments, and am ready to suffer still greater, that my example may shew those whom God lias com- mitted to my care, the way to the glory we wish for." The governor then sent him to prison, and ordered him to be hea- vily ironed ; after which he was sent to Amantius, governor of Pannonia, who loaded him wilh chains, and carried him through the principal towns of that province, exposing him to general ridicule. At length, arriving at Sabaria, and finding that Quirinus would not renounce his faith, he ordered him to be cast into a river, with a stone fastened to his neck. This sentence was ac- cordingly put into execution, and Quirinus, floating about for some time, exhorted the people in the most pious terms, concluding his admonitions with this prayer: " It is no new thing, O all pow- erful Jesus ! for thee to stop the course of rivers, or to cause a man to walk upon the water, as thou didst thy servant Peter : the people have already seen the proof of thy power in me ; grant me now to lay down my life for thy sake, O my God !" After uttering these words, he immediately sunk. This took place June 4, A. D. 308 ; and his body was afterwards taken up, and bu- ried by some pious Christians. Five Egyptian Christians being on a visit to their afllicted brethren in Caesaria, were apprehended and carried before Firmilian, the gover- nor of Palestine, who, on question- ing them, was answered by one, in the name of the rest, that they were Christians, and belonged to the glorious city of Jerusalem, speak- ing allegorically of the heavenly Jerusalem. 'Vhe governor was TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 55 surprised at the answer, as Le knew Vespasian and his son Titus bad de- stroyed the ancient JcrHsalem ; and that the inconsiderable town erect- ed by Adrian upon the spot, was called ^lia Capitolina : he there- fore inquired more particularly concerning it. The Christian who liad spoken before, again replied, and pursuing the allegory, describ- ed, with great force of imagination, tlie beauty, riches, and strength of the place. Firmilian still mistak- ing his meaning, by understanding his words in a literal sense, be- came much alarmed ; for not dream- ing that a heavenly city was allud- ed to, he fancied that the Chris- tians were strengthening and forti- fying some place, in order to re- volt from their allegiance to the emperor. Prejudiced by this mis- take, and enraged at their supposed disloyalty, he condemned the five prisoners to be cruelly tormented, and then beheaded ; which sentence was executed on the 16th of Fe- bruary, A. D. 309. PAMPHILIUS AND MANY OTHERS PUT TO DEATH. Pamphilius, a native of Phoenicia, of a considerable family, was a man of such extensive learning, that he was called a second Origen. — He was received amongst the clergy at Cagsarea, wliere he spent his time in the practice of every Christian virtue. He copied the greatest part of the works of Origen with his own liand, and, assisted by Eusebius, gave a cor- rect copy of the Old Testament, which had suffered greatly by the ignorance or negligence of former transcribers. He likewise gave public lectures on religious and literary subjects, in an academy which he had erected for that pur- pose, till the year 307, when he was apprehended, and carried before Urban, the governor of Palestine, who exerted himself to induce him to embrace paganism. Finding his endeavours vain, he began to threaten him ; but Pamphilius maintained his resolution, where- upon he was immediately tortured severely, and then sent to prison. Soon after. Urban having dis- pleased the emperor, was displaced and beheaded ; but another gover- nor was appointed, who was equally prejudiced against the Christians. Pamphilius sufl'ered martyrdom under the new governor, by being beheaded ; together with Valens, a deacon of the church of Jerusalem ; and Paul, a layman, of Jamnia, in Palestine. Porphyrius, the ser- vant of Pamphilius, was burnt by a straw fire, for only requesting leave to bury the body of his master and other martyrs who suf- fered. Theodulus, a venerable and faithful servant to Firmilian the governor, being accused of the Christian faith, confessed the charge, and was, by order of his master, crucified, on February 17, A. D. 309 ; and, on the same day, Julian, a Cappadocian, was burnt. Marcellus, bishop of Rome, being banished on account of his faith, fell a martyr to the miseries he suf- fered in exile, A. D. 310, on the 16th of January. Peter, the six- teenth bishop of Alexandria, was martyred November 25, A. D. 311, by order of Maximus Caesar, who reigned in the East. Lucian, a learned Syrian, a man of so bene- volent a temper, that he disposed of the greatest ])art of his fortune in charitable actions, was appre- hended as a Christian, imprisoned during nine years, put to the rack, rolled upon sharp flints, nails, &c. and then being tortured to death, his body was thrown into the sea ; but it was afterwards cast on shore, and received interment. Valentine, a priest, suffered the same fate at Rome ; and Erasmus, a bishop, was martyred in Cam- pania; Cosmus and Damiau, Ara- bians, and brothers, were put to death in Cilicia; Adrian, an im- perial officer, was beheaded ; Bar- bara, a young lady, was martyred at Nicomedia ; Lucy, a virgin, was put to death at Syracuse ; and Serena, the empress of Diocletian, was beheaded for avowing herself a Christian. Innumerable other persons, of all ranks, suffered death for the love of Christ, during this 66 BOOK OF MARTYRS. most dreadful peisecufion, but their names have not been pre- served; indeed, such was the hor- rible cruelty of the pagans, that they shut up the doors of a church in which a Christian congregation were assembled, and having set tire to the building, every person perished. The following remarkable in- stance is a proof of the power of the Almighty to endue those who suffer for his cause with fortitude sufficient to disappoint the mali- cious expectiitions of their per- secutors, and to triumph, even in death, over the arts of their adver- saries. B.'jrlaani, a noble martyr. Laving been tortured with the utmost severity, even to the point of death, the tormentors at last laid him upon the pagan altar, and put frankincense into his hand, which they lighted, imagining that the heat and force of the iire would oblige him to scatter the burning incense on the altar, that they might thereby say that he had sa- crificed ; but in this they were dis- appointed, for the flame went round his hand, which appeared as if it had been covered with red hot embers, while he uttered this ex- clamation of the psalmist: — " Blessed is the Lord my God, who teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight." After which he surrendered his soul to his Re- deemer. MARTYRDOM OF ST. GEORGK. George was born in Cappadocia, of Christian parents ; by whom he was ii^tructed in the tenets of the gospel. His father dying when he was young, he travelled with his mother into Palestine, which was her native country, where she in- herited an estate, which afterwards descended to her son. George being active and spirited, became a soldier, and was made a tribune or colonel. In this post he ex- hibited great proofs of his courage, and was promoted in the army of Diocletian. During the persecu- tion, he threw up his command, went boldly to the senate-house. and avowed his being a Christiaif., taking occasion at the same lime to remonstrate against paganism. This conduct so greatly provoked the senate, that he was ordered to be tortured, which he underwent with great constancy. He was afterwards, by the emperor's orders, dragged through the streets, and beheaded. The calendar comme- morates his martyrdom on the 23d of April ; many churches have been dedicated to him, and he is con- sidered as the lulelar saint and patron of England*. CONSTANTINE BECOMES THE CHAM- PION OF THE CHRISTIANS. Constantine the Great at length determined to redress the griev- ances of the Christians, for which purpose he raised an army of 30,000 foot, and 8000 horse, with which he marched towards Rome, against Maxentius, the emperor. But, reflecting on the fatal miscar- riages of his predecessors, who had maintained a multiplicity of gods, and reposed an entire con- fidence in their assistance ; and considering that while his own father adored only one God he continu- ally prospered ; Constantine re- jected the adoration of idols, and implored the assistance of the Al- mighty ; who heard his prayers, and answered them in a manner so sur- prising and miraculous, that Euse- bius acknowledges it would not ha\e been credible, had he not received it from the emperor's own mouth, who publicly and solemnly ratified the truth upon his oath. THE VISION OF CONSTANTINE. " The army being advanced near Rome, and the emperor employed *The Order of the Garter, instituted by Edward III., is dedicated to the Holy Trinity, the blessed Virgin, St. George, and St. Edward the Confessor. In the badge of the order, St. George is represented on horseback, tilting at a dragon, which is only allegorical, and implies that he had conquered the devil, or the dragon, by his faith in Chris- tianity, and his fortitude in adhering thereto. TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 57 ill liis tlcvout ejacnlalions, on the 27th day of October, about three o'clock in the afternoon, when the sun was declining:, there suddenly appeared to hiir. a pillar of light in the heavens, in the form of a cross, with this plain inscription on or about it, Torrn nika, " In this overcome." Constantine was great- ly surprised at this strange sight, which was visible to (he whole army, who C(pially wondered at it with himself. The officers and commanders, prompted by the augurs and auspices, or sooth- sayers, looked upon it as an inau- spicious omen, portending- an un- fortunate expedition ; the emperor himself did not understand it, till at length our Saviour appeared to him in a vision, with the cross in his hand, commanding him to make a royal standard, like that he had seen in the heavens, and cause it to be continually carried before his army, as an ensign both of victory and safety. Early the next morn- ing, Constantine informed his friends and officers of what lie had seen in the night, and sending for proper workmen, sat down by them and described to them the form of the standard, which he then ordered them to make with the greatest art and magnificence ; and accordingly they made it thus: a long spear, plated with gold, with a traverse piece at the top, in the form of a cross, to which was fastened a four- square purple banner, embroidered with gold, and beset with precious stones, which reflected an amazing lustre : towards the top was depict- ed the emperor between his two sons; on the top of the shaft, above the cross, stood a crown, overlaid with gold and Jewels, within which was placed the sacred symbol, namely, the two first let- ters of Christ in Greek, x and P, struck one through the other: this device he afterwards bore not only npon his shields, but also upon his coins, many of which are still extant." t»EATH OF MAXIMUS AND LrCINirS. Afterwards engaging Maxentius, he defeated him, and entered the city of Rome in triumph. A law was now published in favour of the Christians, in which Licinius joined with Constantine, and a copy of it was sent to Maximus in the East. Maximus, who was a bigoted pagan, greatly disliked the edict, but being afraid of Constantine, did not, however, openly avow his disapprobation of it. At length, he invaded the territories of Lici- nius; but being defeated, put an end to his life by poison. 1'he death of Maxentius has already been described. Licinius was not really a Chris- tian, but afi'ected to appear such, through dread of Constantine's power ; for even after publishing several, edicts in favour of the Christians, he put to death Blase, bishop of Sebaste, several bishops and priests of Egypt and Lybia, who were cut to pieces, and thrown into the sea ; and forty soldiers of the garrison of Sebaste, who suf- fered martyrdom by fire. This cruelty and hypocrisy greatly in- censed Constantine; he marched against Licinius, and defeated him, and that commander was afterwards slain by his own soldiers. REMARKS ON THE VENGliAXCE OF GOD TOWARDS THE PERSECUTORS OF THE CHRISTIANS. We cannot close our account of the ten persecutions under the Ro- man emperors, without calling the attention of the Christian reader to the manifestations of the great dis- pleasure of the Almighty against the persecutors. History evidently proves, that no nation or individual can ultimately prosper, by whom Christ Josus, the Son of God, is contemned. During t'le persecu- tions of the holy martyrs which we have related above, the Roman people were the victims of the cruelty and tyranny of their rulers, and the empire was perpetually torn and distracted by civil wars. In the reign of Tiberius, five thou- sand persons were crushed to death by the fall of a theatre, and on 58 BOOK OF MARTYRS. many other occasions the divine wrath was evinced against that cruel and merciless nation. Neither did the emperors them- selves escape without their jnst re- ward. Tiberius was murdered ; as were his three immediate suc- cessors. Galba, after a reign of only seven months, was put to death by Otho, who being van- quished by Vitellius, killed himself. Vitellius, shortly after, was tortured, and his body thrown into the Tiber. Titus is said to have been poisoned by his brother Domitian, who was afterwards slain by his wife. Com- modus was strangled. Pertinax and Didius were put to death; Severus killed himself; Caracalla slew his brother Geta, and was in his turn slain by Macrinus, who, with his sou, was afterwards killed by his own soldiers. HeliogabaUis was put to death by the people. Alexander Severus, a virtuous emperor, was murdered by Maximinus, who was afterwards slain by his own army. Pupienus and Balbinus were mur- dered by the prsetorian guards. Gordian and Philip were slain. Decius was drowned, and his son killed in battle. Gallus and Volu- sianus were murdered by ^mili- anus, who within three months afterwards was himself slain. Va- lerian was taken prisoner by the Persians, and at length flayed alive, and his son Gallienus was assassi- nated. Aurelian was murdered ; as were Tacitus, Florianus, and Probus. Galerius died in a miser- able manner, as did Maximinus of a horrible and loathsome disease. Maxentius, being conquered by Constandne, was drowned in his attempt to escape; and Licinius was deposed, and slain by his soldiers. The Jews, also, for their obstinacy and wickedness in rejecting the gospel so graciously offered to fhem by Jesus Christ, were signally pu- nished. Forty years had scarcely elapsed from their crucifixion of our Saviour, when Jerusalem was levelled with the ground, and more than a million of the Jews killed ; innumerable multitudes sold for slaves; and many thousands torn to pieces by wild beasts, or other- wise cruelly slain. Indeed, the nation may be said to have been annihilated — its political ex- istence was terminated, and the descendants of that people, which was once peculiarly favoured of God, are now scattered over the face of the earth — a by-word and a re- proach among the nations. Thus it is evident that wicked- ness and infidelity are certainly, though sometimes slowly, punish- ed by Him who is just, although merciful : and if he has hitherto graciously refrained from visiting the sins of this nation with the pu- nishment which they deserve, let us not be vain of that exemption : let us not attiibute it to any merit of our own; but rather let it afford an additional motive to our grati- tude and praise ; let us unfeignedly thank him for his tender mercies daily vouchsafed to us; and, while we bow before him in humble adora- tion, let us earnestly endeavour to preserve our worship of him free from that ungodliness and supersti- tion of which it has been happily purged and cleansed b}' the blood of the holy martyrs. So shall we not only secure our happiness iu this world, but, in the end, attain everlasting joy and felicity, through the merits of our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, wlio gave up himself as a precious sacrifice for our transgressions. If we be negligent in the de- fence of the pure religion which he has vouchsafed to impart unto us; if we allow that glorious fabric, which cost so nnich blood to raise, to be overturned by the open attack of the Infidel, or the more danger- ous sap and mine of the Catholic Emancipator; we alone are justly blameable for the consequences that will infallibly ensue; and on our heads will rest the dreadful re- sponsibility of having surrendered the citadel of our security to those who await, in anxious expectation, the moment when the weakness of some, and the indifference of others, shall allow the power to pass from their hands, under the delusive hope of seeing it exercised with moderation. PERSECUTIONS IN PERSIA. 69 BOOK II. AN ACCOUNT OF THE PERSKCUTIONS OF THE CHRISTIANS IN PERSIA BY SAPORES ; IN EGYPT, &C. BY THE ARIAN HERETICS; BY JULIAN THE apostate; BY THE GOTHS, VANDALS, &C. &C. SECTION I. PERSECUTIONS OF THE CHRISTIANS IN PERSIA. In consequence of tlie gospel having spread itself into Persia, ilie pagan priests became greatly alarm- ed, dreading the loss of their in- fluence over the minds of their peo- ple. They therefore complained to the emperor, that the Christians were enemies to the state, and held a treasonable correspondence with tiie Romans, the great enemies of Persia. The emperor, being him- self averse to Christianity, gave credit to their accusations, and issued orders for the persecution of tLe Christians throughout his empire. MARTYRDOM OF SIMEON AND OTHERS. In consequence of this mandate, Simeon, archbishop of Seleucia, with many other ecclesiastics, to the number of 128, were apprehended and accused of having betrayed the aflairs of Persia to the Romans. The emperor being greatly exaspe- rated against them, ordered Simeon to be brought before him. The archbishop in his presence boldly acknowledged his faith, and de- fended the cause of Christianity. The emperor, offended at his free- dom, ordered him to kneel before him as he had heretofore done. To this Simeon answered, " That being now brought before him a prisoner, for the truth of his reli- gion, it was not lawful for him to kneel, lest he should be thought to worship a man, and betray his faith to his God." Whereupon the em- peror told him, that if he did not kneel, he and all the Christians in his dominions should be put to death ; but Simeon still rejected the command with disdain. The em- peror then ordered liim to be sent to prison. A short time after, Simeon, with his fellow-prisoners, was again ex- amined, and commanded to woiship the sun, agreeably to the Persian custom ; but this they unanimously refused. The emperor then sen- tenced them to be beheaded, which sentence was accordingly executed. An aged eunuch, named Ustha- zares, who Jiad been tutor to the emperor, and was in great estima- tion at court, meeting Simeon as he was led to prison, saluted him. Simeon, however, (as Usthazares had formerly been a Christian, and had apostatized to oblige the em- peror) would not return his salute, but reproved him for his apostacy. This so affected the eunuch, that he burst into tears, and exclaimed, " Ah! how shall I hereafter look upon my God, whom I have denied, when Simeon, my old companion and familiar acquaintance, disdains to give me a gentle word, or to re- turn my salute !" The emperor learning that his ancient tutor was greatly afllicted, sent for him, and asked him whe- ther he desired any thing which could be procured for him; to which the eunuch replied, " That there was nothing that he wanted, which this earth could afford ; but that his grief was of another kind, and for which he justly mourned, namely, that to oblige his sovereign he had denied his God, and had dissemblingly worshipped the sun, against his own conscience ; for which," continued he, " I am de- 60 BOOK OF MARTYRS. serving of a double death; first for denying of Christ; and secondly, for dissembling with my king." The emperor, greatly offended at this speech, ordered Usthazares to be beheaded ; who therefore re- quested that it might be proclaimed, " That Usthazares did not die for any crime against the emperor or state ; but only that being a Chris- tian, he would not deny his God." This petition was granted, and was a great satisfaction to Usthazares, whose chief reason for desiring it was, because his falling off from Christ had caused many others to follow his example ; who now hear- ing that he died for no crime but his religion, miglit, like him, return to Christ, and the faith. Usthazares then cheerfully yielded his neck to the sword. On the Good Friday after the above execution, an edict was pub- lished, ordering that all who con- fessed themselves Christians, should be put to death; which caused the destruction of multitudes. About this time the empress of Persia falling sick, the sisters of Simeon, the archbishop, were accused by some of the magi of causing this calamity. This report being cre- dited, they were, by the emperor's orders, sawed in quarters, and their limbs fixed upon poles, be- tween which the empress passed as a charm to effect the restoration of her health. Acepsimus, and many other ec- clesiastics, were seized upon, and ordered to adore the sun ; which refusing, they were scourged, and then tormented to death, or kept in prison till they expired. Athaias, a priest, though not put to death, was so miserably racked, that his arms were rendered useless ; and ho was ever after obliged to be fed like a child. In short, by this edict, above 16,000 jjcrsons either suffered horribly by torture, or lost their lives. was informed of the persecutions in Persia, he was much concerned, and began to retlect in what man- ner he should redress their griev- ances, when an ambassador arrived from the Persian emperor, upon some political business. Constan- tine received him courteously, granted his demands, and wrote a letter to the Persian monarch in favour of the Christians, in which he alluded to the vengeance that had fallen on persecutors, and (lie success that had attended those who had refrained from the per- secution; and then referring to the tyrants and persecuting em- perors of his own time, he said, " I subdued those solely by faith in Christ ; for which God Mas my helper, who gave me victory in battle, and made me triumph over my enemies ; and hath so enlarged to me the bounds of the Roman empire, that it extends from the Western Ocean, almost to the uttermost parts of the East : for which purpose I neither offered sacritices to the ancient deities, nor made use of charm or divina- tion ; but only offered up prayers to the Almighty God, and followed the cross of Christ : and how glad should I be to hear that the throne of Persia flourished, by embracing the Christians ! that so you with me, and they with you, may enjoy all the felicity your souls could desire ; as undoubtedly you would, God, the Almighty Creator of all things, becoming your protector and defender. These men, therefore, I commend to your honour; I com- mit them unto you, desiring you to embrace them with humanity ; for in so doing, you will procure to yourself grace through faith, and bestow on me a benefit worthy of my thanks." In consequence of this appeal, the persecution ended during the life of Sapores; but it was renewed under his successors. DEGRADATION OF A CHRISTIAN NOBLEMAN. CONSTANTINE WRITES TO THE KING OF PERSIA IN FAVOUR OF THE CHRISTIANS. Hormisdas, a Persian nobleman, When Constantino the Great being convicted of Christianity, ARIAN PERSECUTIONS. 61 was ordered to attend the em- peror's elephants naked. Ti:is disg»stinenses: at the same time, by order of the poutiiV, he styled him " the active and dexterous soldier of Jesus Christ, and the invincible defender of the Catholic faith." But just as the earl was about to return thanks for these s:;reat honours and fineencomiums,amessen«;erbroug;ht •word that the people having heard earl Simon was in the council, had taken up arms, and were coming thither to destroy him as a common disturber. This intelligence threw the whole council into great confu- sion; and earl Simon, though a minute before styled an invincible defender of the faith, jumped out of a window, and stole away from the city. COUNCIL OF LATERAN. The disputes becoming serious, according to the opinion of the pa- pists, the pope himself soon after called a council, to be held at Late- ran, in which great powers were granted to Roman Catholic inquisi- tors, and many Albigenses were im- mediately put to death. This coun- cil of Lateran likewise confirmed to earl Simon all the honours intended him by the council of Montpellier, and empowered him to raise another army against the Albigenses. Earl Simon immediately repaired to court, received his investiture from the French king, and began to levy forces. Having now a considerable number of troops, he determined, if possible, to exterminate the Albi- genses, when he received advice, that his countess was besieged in Narbonne by the earl of Toulouse. He proceeded to the relief of his wife, when the Albigenses met him, gave him battle, and defeated him; but he found means to escape and get into the castle of Narbonne. RECOVERY OF TOULOUSE BY THE ALBIGENSES. After this, Toulouse was recover- ed by the Albigenses ; but the pope espousing earl Simon's causCj rais- ed forces for him, and enabled him once more to undertake the siege of that city. The eari assaulted the place furiously, but being re- pulsed with great loss, he seemed sunk in affliction : when the pope's legate said, to comfort him, " Fear nothing, my lord, make another vi- gorous attack; let us by any means recover the city, and destroy tlie inhabitants ; and those of our men who are slain in the fight, I will as- sure you shall immediately pass in- to paradise." One of the earl's principal officers, on hearing this, said with a sneer, " Monsieur car- dinal, you talk with great assu- rance ; but if the earl believes you, be will, as heretofore, pay dearly for his confidence." Earl Simon, however, took the legate's advice, made another assault, and was again repulsed. To complete his misfortune, before the troops could recover from their confusion, the earl of Foix made his appearance,^ at the head of a formidable body of forces, and attacked the already dispirited army of earl Simon, easi- ly put them to the route; when the earl himself narrowly escaped drowning in the Garonne, into which he had hastily plunged, in order to avoid being captured. This miscarriage almost broke his heart; but the pope's legate continued to encourage him, and oflered to raise another army, which pjomise, with some diificulty, and three years de- lay, he at length performed, and that bigoted nobleman was once more enabled to take the field. On this occasion he turned his whole force against Toulouse, which he besieged for the space of nine months, when in one of the sallies made by the besieged, his horse was wounded. The animal being in great anguish, ran away with him, and bore him directly under the ramparts of the city, when an archer shot him in the thigh with an arrow ; and a woman immediately after throwing a large stone from the wall, it struck him upon the head, and killed him; thug were the Albigenses, like the Israelites, delivered by the hand of a woman j 112 BOOK OF MARTYRS. and thus this atrocious monster, who had so long: persecuted the people of God, was at length him- self slain by one of those whom he had intended to have slaughtered if he had been successful. The siege was raised ; but the legate, enraged to be disappointed of his vengeance on the inhabitants, en- gaged the king of France in the cause, who sent his son to besiege it. The French prince, with some chosen troops, furiously assaulted Toulouse ; but meeting with a se- vere repulse, he abandoned that city to besiege Miromand. This place he soon took by storm, and put to the sword all the inhabitants, consisting of 6000 men, women, and children. The bloodthirsty legate, whose name was Bertrand, being very old, grew weary of following the army ; but his passion for murder still remained, as appears by his epistle to the pope, in which he begs to be recalled on account of age and infirmities ; but entreats the pontiff to appoint a successor, who might carry on the war, as he had done, with spirit and perseve- rance. In consequence, the pope recalled Bertrand, and appointed Conrade, bishop of Portua, to be legate in his room. The latter determined to follow the steps of his predecessor, and to persecute the A.lbigenses with the greatest severity. Guido, earl of Mont- fort, the son and heir of earl Si- mon, undertook the command of the troops, and immediately laid siege to Toulouse, before the walls of which he was killed. His brother Almeric succeeded to the command, but the bravery of the garrison soon obliged him to raise the siege. On this the legate pre- vailed upon the king of France to undertake the siege of Toulouse in person, and reduce to the obe- dience of the church those obsti- nate heretics, as he called the brave Albigenses. The earl of Toulouse, hearing of the great preparations made by the king of France, sent the women, children, cattle, 8tc. UJto secret and secure places in the mountains, ploughed up the land, that the king's forces should not obtain any forage, and did all that a skilful general could perform to distress the enemy. By these wise regulations the French array, soon after entering the earldom of Toulouse, suffered all the extremities of famine, which obliged the troops to feed on the carcasses of horses, dogs, cats, &c. which unwholesome food produced the plague. The king died of grief; but his son, who succeeded him, determined to carry on the war: he was, how- ever, defeated in three engage- ments, by the earl of Toulouse. The king, the queen-mother, and three archbishops again raised a formidable army, and had the art to persuade the earl of Toulouse to come a conference, when he was treacherously seized upon, made a prisoner, forced to appear barefooted and bareheaded before his enemies, and compelled to', subscribe the following ignomi- nious conditions: 1. That he should abjure the faith that he had hitherto defended. 2. That he should be subject to the church of Rome. 3. That he should give his daughter Joan in marriage to one of the brothers of the king of France. 4. That he should main- tain in Toulouse six popish pro- fessors of the liberal arts, and two grammarians. 5. That he should take upon him the cross, and serve five years against the Sara- cens in the Holy Land. 6. That he should level the walls of Tou- louse with the ground. 7. That he should destroy the walls and fortifications of thirty of hi.s other cities and castles, as the legate should direct. 8. That he should remain prisoner at Paris till his daughter was delivered to the king's commissioners. After these cruel conditions a severe persecu- tion took place against the Albi- genses, many of whom suffered for the faith ; and express orders were issued that the laity should not be permitted to read the sacred writinyi ! PERSECUTIONS OB' THE ALBIGENSES. 113 ANOTHER PERSECUTION'. From this period we find no further account of the Albifijenses till the commencement of the se- venteenth century : but althousfh they are not distinctly mentioned, they sulTercd, in common with their protestant brethren, at various times ; and in 1620, a cruel perse- cution was commenced against them. Torture of yicluiUis Biirtoit by the luquisiton. I At a town called Tell, while the minister was preaching to a cous^re- gation of the reformed, the papists attacked and murdered many of the people. A lady of considera- ble eminence, being exhorted to change her religion, if not for her own sake, at least for that of the infant she held in her arms, said, with undaunted courage, " I did not quit Italy, my native country, nor forsake the estates I had there, for the sake of Jesus Christ, to re- nounce him here. With respect to my infant, why should I not de- liver him up to death, since God delivered up his son to die for us?" As soon as she had done speaking, they took the child from her, delivered it to a popish nurse FOX'S MARTYRS. to bring up, and then cut the mo- ther to pieces. Dominico Berto, a youth of six- teen, refusing to turn papist, was set upon an ass with his face to the tail, which he was obliged to hold in his hand. In this condi- tion he was led to the market- place, amidst the acclamations of the populace ; after which they cut oir his nose, ears, and cheeks, and burnt holes in several parts of his body till he at last died. An Albigense young lady, of noble family, was seized by the papists, and carried through the streets with a paper mitre upon her head. After mocking, beating her, and smearing her face with dirt, they bade her call upon the saints; to 8 114 BOOK OF MARTYRS. whieh she replied, " My trust and salvation is in Christ only ; for even the virgin Mary, without the merits of her son, could not be saved." On this the multitude fell upon and destroyed her. Many other horril)le cruelties were perpetrated by these bigoted monsters ; and the pope sent them a letter, approving what tliey had done, and commanding them, if possible, not to leave one heretic alive in that pare of the country; which command they strictly ful- filled ; butchering all the protest- ants in the Valtoline and neigh- bouring districts. SECTION TV. PERSECUTIONS IN FRANCE, PREVIOUS TO AND DURING THE CIVIL WARS OF THAT NATION. In the year 1524, at a town in France called Melden, one John Clark affixed a bill on the church door, in which he called the pope Antichrist : for this oil'ence he was repeatedly whipped, and then branded in the forehead. His mo- ther, who saw the chastisement, cried with a loud voice, " Blessed be Christ, and welcome these marks for his sake." He went af- terwards to Metz, in Lorraine, and demolished some images, for which he had his right hand and nose cut oil', and his arms and breast torn by pincers : while suf- fering these cruelties, he sang the , 115th psalm, which expressly for- bids superstition. On concluding the psalm, he was thrown into the fire and burnt to ashes. About the same time several persons of the reformed persua- sion were beaten, racked, scourg- ed, and burnt to death, in several parts of France ; but particularly at Paris, Limosin, and Malda. A native of Malda was burnt by a slow fire for saying that mass was a plain denial of the death and passion of Christ. At Limo- sin, John de Cadurco, a clergy- man of the reformed religion, was apprehended, degraded, and or- dered to be burnt. When under examination, a friar undertook to preach a sermon upon the occa- sion ; when opening the New Tes- tament he pitched upon this text, in the first epistle of St. Paul to Timothy, chap. iv. ver. 1. " Now the spirit speaketh expressly, that in the latter times some shall de- part from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils." The friar began to ex- pound this verse in favour of the Roman Catholic persuasion, and in condemnation of the reformed religion, when John de Cadurco begged, that before he proceeded' f in his sermon, he would read the two verses which followed his text: — the friar again opened the Testament, but on casting his eye on the passage, he appeared con- founded. Cadurco then desirjjjl that the book might be handed W him; this request being complied with, he read thus, " Speaking lies in hypocrisy, having their con- science seared with a hot iron, for- bidding to marry, and command- ing to abstain from meats, which God hath created to be received with thanksgiving of them which believe and know the truth." The Roman Catholics, irritated at this exposure, condemned him to the llames. At Paris, Alexander Kanus, a clergyman, was burnt in a slow fire ; and four men were committed to the flames for distributing pa- pers whicli ridiculed the saying of mass. One had his tongue bored through for ridiculing the Romish superstitions. Peter Gaudet, a Genoese, was burnt on the accu- sation of his own uncle, a bigoted Roman Catholic ; and John Pointer, a surgeon, had his tongue cut out, and was then burnt. MARTYRDOMS AT ARRAS, &C. At Arras, Fontanis, and Rutiers, many were martyred for being of the reformed religion ; at the lat- PERSECUTIONS IN FRANCE. 115 ter place, in particular, one Ste- phen Brune was condemned to be burnt for refusing to attend mass. When the fire was kindled, the flames were driven from him by a brisk wind, which occasioned the executioner to heap more faggots round him, and pour oil on them. Still, however, the wind blew the flames in a contrary direction, when the executioner was absurd- ly enraged with Brune, and struck him on the head ; but Brune very calmly said, " As I am condemned only to be burnt, why do you strike me like a dog ?" This ex- pre?nion so greatly enraged the ex- ecutioner, that he ran him through with a pike, and then burnt the lifeless body. Aymond de Lavoy, a minister of Bourdeaux, had a complaint lodged against him by the Romish clergy of that city. His friends advised him to abscond, but he refused. He remained nine months in prison. Being then brdtight to trial, he was ordered to be racked;andwhen in the extremity of torture, he comforted himself with this expression : " This body must once die, but the soul shall live ; for the kingdom of God en- dureth for ever." At length he swooned ; but on recovering, he prayed for his persecutors. The question was then put to hiip, whether he would embrace thVi Roman Catholic persuasion; which positively refusing, he was con- demned to be burnt. At the place of execution he said, " O Lord, make haste to help me ; tarry not ; despise not the work of thy hands." And perceiving some who used to attend his sermons, he addressed them thus : " My friends, I exhort you to study and learn the gospel ; for the word of God abideth for ever: — labour to know the will of God, and fear not them that kill the body, but have no power over the soul." The ex- ecutioner then strangled him, and burnt his body afterwards. Husson, an apothecary of Blois, went to Rouen, and there privately distributed several small pam- phlets, explaining the tenets of the reformed church, and exposing the Romish superstitions. These books gave a general alarm, and a council being called, an order was issued for search to be made for the author and distributor. It was discovered that Husson had brought them to Rouen, and that he M as gone to Dieppe, and orders were given for pursuing him. He was brought back to Rouen, where he confessed he was both autlior and distributor of the books. This occasioned his condemnation, and he was executed in the following manner : his tongue being cut out, his hands and feet were tied be- hind, and he was drawn up by a pulley to a gibbet, and then let down into a fire kindled beneath : in which situation he called upon the Lord, and soon breathed his last. Francis Bribard, secretary to cardinal de Bellay, for speaking in favour of the reformed, had his tongue cut out, and was burnt, A. D. 1544. James Cobard, a schoolmaster in the city of St. Mi- chael, was burnt a. d. 1545, for saying the mass was useless and absurd ; and about the same time, fourteen men were burnt at Malda, their wives being compelled to behold their martyrdom. Peter Chapot brought a number of Bibles in the French tongue to France, and publicly sold them there in the year 1546, for which he was condemned to be burnt; as, soon after, were a cripple of Meaux, a schoolmaster of Fera, named Stephen Polliot, and a man named John English. NUMEROUS MARTYRDOMS. Michael Micbelot being told either to recant and be beheaded, or to persevere and be burned, chose the latter, making use of these words : " God has given me grace not to deny the truth, and will give me strength to endure the fire." About the same time many were burnt at Paris, Bar, &c, ; and at Langres five men and two women suffered for being of 116 BOOK OF MARTYRS. the reformed religion : when the youngest woman encouraged the other, saying, " This day shall we be married to Jesus Christ, and be with him for ever." Monsieur Blondel, a rich jewel- ler, was, in 1549, apprehended at Lyons, and sent to Paris, where he suffered death for the faith. Hubert, a youth of nineteen years of age, was committed to the flames at Dijon ; as was Florent Venote, at the same time. A lady, named Ann Audebert, who designed, on account of her faith, to retire to Geneva, was seized and sent to Paris. She was led to execution by a rope placed round her waist. This rope she called her wedding gir- dle ; and said, " I was once mar- ried to a man on a Saturday, and now I shall be married to God on the same day of the week." Shortly after the coronation of Henry the Second, a tailor was apprehended for working on a saint's day ; being asked why he gave such an offence to religion, his reply was, " I am a poor man, and have nothing but my labour to depend upon; necessity requires that I should be industrious, and my conscience tells me there is no day but the Sabbath which I ought to keep sacred from labour." Having expressed himself thus, he was committed to prison, and the affair being soon after rumoured at court, some of the nobles per- suaded the king to be present at the trial. On the day appointed, the monarch appeared in a superb chair of state, and the bishop of Mascon was ordered to interrogate the prisoner. The tailor, on per- ceiving the king, paid his obedi- ence to him in the most respect- ful manner. The king was much affected with his arguments, and seemed to muse ; on which the bi- shop exclaimed, *' He is an obsti- nate and impudent heretic; let him be taken back to prison, and burnt to death." The prisoner wlas accordingly conveyed to prison ; and the bishop artfully insinuated, that the heretics, as he called the reformed, had many specious ar- guments, which, at first hearing, appeared conclusive ; but on exa- mination, they were found to be false. He then endeavoured to , persuade the king to be present at the execution, who at length con- sented, and repaired to a balcony which overlooked the place. On seeing the king, the tailor fixed his eyes steadfastly upon him, and even while the flames were con- suming him, kept gazing in such a manner, as threw the monarch into visible confusion, and obliged him to retire before the martyr was dead. He was so much shocked, that he could not recover his spirits for some time ; and what added to his disquiet was, his con- tinually dreaming, for many nights, that he saw the tailor with his eyes fixed upon him, in the same man- ner as during the execution. A pious man, named Claudius, was burnt at Orleans ; a Genoese youth, called Thomas, having re- buked a Roman Catholic for pro- fanely swearing, was informed against as an heretic, and burnt at Paris; as were three men. at Ly- ons, two of them with ropes about their necks; but the third, having been an oflicer in the king's ser- vice, was exempted from that dis- grace. He, however, begged to be treated in the same manner as his companions, in honour of the Lord : his request was complied with ; and after having sung a psalm with great fervency, they were all consumed. A citizen of Geneva, Simon La- loe ; Matthew Dimonet, a converted libertine ; and Nicholas Naile, a bookseller of Paris, were burnt for professing the reformed reli- gion. Peter Serre was originally a priest, but reflecting on the er- rors of popery, he, at length, em- braced the reformed religion, and learned the trade of a shoemaker. Having a brother at Toulouse, who was a bigoted Roman Catho- lic, Serre, out of fraternal love, made a journey to that city, in or- der to "dissuade him from his super- stitions : the brother's wife not ap- THE INQUISITION. 117 proving of his design, lodged a complaint against him, on which he was apprehended, and made a full declaration of his faith. The judge asked him concerning his occupation, to which he replied, " I have of late practised the trade of a shoemaker." " Of late !" said the judge, " and what did you practise formerly?" — "That I am almost ashamed to tell you," ex- claimed Serre, " because it was the vilest and most wicked occu- pation imaginable." The judge, and all who were present, from these words, supposed he had been a murderer or thief, and that what he spoke was through contrition. He was, however, ordered to ex- plain precisely what he meant ; when, with tears in his eyes, he exclaimed, " O ; I was formerly a Popish Priest !" This reply so much exasperated the judge, that he condemned Serre to be first de- graded, then to have his tongue cut, and afterwards to be burnt. In 1554, two men of the reformed religion, with the son and daugh- ter of one of them, were committed to the castle of Niverne. On exa- mination they confessed their faith, and were ordered for execu- tion ; they were first smeared with grease, brimstone, and gunpowder ; their tongues were then cut out, and they were afterwards commit- ted to the llames. Philip Hamlin, a priest, was ap- prehended for having renounced the errors of popery. Being brought to tlie stake, he began to exhort the people to quit the er- rors of the church of Rome ; on which the officer who presided at the execution ordered the faggots to be lighted, and that a trumpet should be blown while Hamlin was burning, that the people might not hear his voice. BOOK V. HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE INQUISITION IN Sl'AlN, PORTUGAL, ITALY, kc. SECTION I. ORIGIN, PROGRESS, AND CRUELTIES OF THE INQUISITION. When the reformed religion be- gan to diffuse the pure light of the gospel throughout Europe, the bi- goted Roman Catholics, fearing the exposure of the frauds and abuses of their church, determined to leave nothing unattempted to crush the Reformation in its in- fancy ; pope Innocent III. there- fore instituted a number of inqui- sitors, or persons who were to make inquiry after, apprehend, and punish the professors of the reformed faith. At the head of these inquisitors was one Dominic, who was canonized by the pope, in order to render his authority the more respectable. He and the other inquisitors visited the va- rious Roman Catholic countries. and treated the protestants with the utmost severity : but at length the pope, not finding them so use- ful as he had expected, resolved upon the establishment of fixed and regular courts of inquisition ; the first office of which was esta- blished in the city of Toulouse, and Dominic became the first in- quisitor. Courts of inquisition were also erected in several other countries ; but the Spanish inquisition be- came the most powerful, and the most dreadful of any. — Even the kings of Spain themselves, though arbitrary in all other respects, were taught to dread its power; and the horrid cruelties exercised by the inquisition, compelled mul • 118 BOOK OF MARTYRS. tudes, who differed in opinion from the Catholics, carefully to conceal their sentiments. The Dominicans and Franciscans were the most zealous of all the monks : these, therefore, the pope invested with an exclusive right of presid- ing over, and managing the diffei-- ent courts of inquisition. The friars of those two orders were always selected from the very dregs of the people, and therefore were not much troubled with scru- ples of conscience ; they were obliged, by the rules of their re- spective orders, to lead very au- stere lives, which rendered their manners unsocial, and better quali- fied them for their barbarous em- ployment. The pope gave the inquisitors the most unlimited powers, as judges delegated by him, and im- mediately representing his person : they were permitted to excommu- nicate, or sentence to death, whom they thought proper, upon the slightest information of heresy ; were allowed to publish crusades against all whom they deemed he- retics, and enter into leagues with sovereign princes, to join those crusades with their forces. About the year 1244, their power was further increased by the emperor Frederic the Second, who declared himself the protector and friend of all inquisitors, and published two cruel edicts, viz. that all heretics, who continued obstinate, should be burnt; and that all who re- pented, should be imprisoned for life. This zeal in the emperor for the inquisitors, and the Roman Catholic persuasion, arose from a report which had been propagated throughout Europe, that he in- tended to turn Mahometan ; the emperor therefore judiciously de- termined, by the height of bigotry and cruelty, to shew his attach- ment to popery. The officers of the inquisition are, three inquisitors or judges, a proctor fiscal, two secretaries, a magistrate, a messenger, a re- reiver, a gaoler, an agent of con- ^scated possessions, and several assessors, counsellors, execution- ers, physicians, surgeons, door- keepers, familiars, and visitors, who are all sworn to profound secrecy. The chief accusation against those who are subject to this tribunal is heresy, which com- prises all that is spoken or written against any of the articles of the creed, or the traditions of the Ro- mish church. The other articles of accusation are, renouncing the Roman Catholic persuasion, and believing that persons of any other religion may be saved, or even admitting that the tenets of any but papists are in the least reasonable. There are two other things which incur the most severe punishments, viz. to disapprove of any action done by the inquisition, or disbelieve any thing said by an inquisitor. Heresy comprises many subdivi- sions ; and upon a suspicion of any of these, the party is imme- diately apprehended. Advancing an oilensive proposition ; failing to impeach others who may ad- vance such ; contemning church ceremonies; defacing idols; read- ing books condemned by the in- quisition ; lending such books to others to read ; deviating from the ordinary practices of the Romish church ; letting a year pass with- out going to confession; eating meat on fast days ; neglecting mass ; being present at a sermon preached by an heretic;, not ap- pearing when summoned by the inquisition ; lodging in the house of, contracting a friendship with, or making a present to an heretic ; assisting an heretic to escape from confinement, or visiting one in con- finement, are all matters of sus- picion, and prosecuted accord- ingly. All Roman Catholics are commanded, under pain of excom- munication, to give immediate in- formation, even of their nearest and dearest friends, if they judge them to be heretics, or inclining to heresy. All who give the least assistance to protestants are called fautors, or abettors of heresy, and the accusations against these arp THE INQUISITION. 110 for comforting; such as the inquisi- tion have begun to prosecute; as- sisting, or not informing against such, if they should happen to escape ; concealing, abetting, ad- vising, or furnishing heretics with money ; visiting, or writing to, or sending them subsistence ; secret- ing, or burning books and papers, which might se.vve to convict them. The inquisition' also takes cogni- zance of such as are accused of being magicians, witches, blas- phemers, soothsayers, wizards, common swearers ; and of such who read, or even possess the Bible in the vulgar tongues, the Talmud of the Jews, or the Alcoran of tiie Mahometans. Upon all occasions the inquisitors carry on their processes with the utmost severity. They seldom show mercy to a protestant ; and a Jew, who turns Christian, is far from being secure ; for if he is known to keep company with another new-converted Jew, a sus- picion arises that they privately practise together some Jewish ce- remonies ; if he keep company with a person who was lately a protestant, but now professes popery, they are accused of plot- ting together ; but if he associate with a Roman Catholic, an accu- sation is often laid against him for only pretending to be a papist, and the consequence is a confis- cation of his effects, and the loss of his life if he complain. A defence is of little use to the prisoner ; for a suspicion only is deemed sufficient cause of con- demnation, and the greater his wealth the greater his danger. Most of the inquisitors' cruelties are owing to their rapacity : they destroy life to possess the property ; and under pretence of zeal, plunder individuals of their rights. A pri- soner of the inquisitors is never allowed to see the face of his accuser, or any of the witnesses against him, but every method is taken, by threats, and tortures, to oblige him to accuse himself. If the jurisdiction of the inquisition be not fully allowed^ vengeance is denounced against such as call it in question ; or if any of its officers are opposed, those who oppose them are almost certain to be sufferers for their temerity ; the maxim of the inquisition being to strike terror, and awe those who are the objects of its power, into obedience. High birth, distin- guished rank, or eminent employ- ments, are no protection from its severities ; and its lowest officers can make the most exalted no- bleman tremble at their autho- rity. Such are the circumstances which subject a person to the rage of the in juisition ; and the modes of be- ginning the process are, 1, to pro- ceed by imputation, or prosecute on common report; 2. by the in- formation of any indifl'erent person who chooses to impeach another; 3. on the information of spies who are retained by the inquisition ; and, 4, on the confession of the prisoner himself. The inquisitors never forget or forgive ; lengtli of time cannot eflace their resentments ; nor can the humblest concessions, or most liberal presents, obtain a pardon : they carry the desire of revenge to the grave, and wish to have both the property and lives of those who have offended them. Hence, when a person once accused to the inquisition, after escaping, is re- taken, pardon is next to an impos- sibility. If a positive accusation be given, the inquisitors direct an order to the executioner, who takes a certain number of familiars with him to assist in the execution. Father, son, brother, sister, hus- band, or wife, must quietly sub- mit ; none dare resist or even speak ; as either would subject them to the same punishment as the devoted victim. No respite is allowed, but the prisoner is instan- taneously hurried away. This dreadful engine of tyranny may at any time be introduced into a country where the catholics have the upper hand ; and hence, how careful ought we to be, who arc not cursed with such an arbi^ 1%Q BOOK OF MARTYRS. trary court, to prevent its intro- duction ! In treating of this sub- ject, an elegant author patlietically says, " How horrid a scene of perfidy and inhumanity! "What kind of coniAiunity must that be whence gratitude, love, and mutual forbearance with regard to human frailties are banished ! What must that tribunal be, which obliges parents not only to erase from their minds the remembrance of their own children, to extinguish all those keen sensations of tender- ness and affection wherewith nature inspires them, but even to extend their inhumanity so far as to force them to commence their accusers, and consequently to become the cause of the cruelties inflicted upon them ! What ideas ought we to form to ourselves of a tribunal which obliges children not only to stitle every soft impulse of grati- tude, love, and respect, due to those who gave them birth, but even forces them, and that under the most rigorous penalties, to be spies over their parents, and to dis- cover to a set of merciless inqui- sitors the crimes, the errors, and even the little lapses to which they are exposed by human frailty ! In a word, a tribunal which will not permit relations, when imprisoned in its horrid dungeons, to give each other the succours, or per- form the duties which religion en- joins, must be of an infernal nature. What disorder and confusion must such conduct give rise to in a ten- derly affectionate family ! An ex- pression, innocent in itself, and, perhaps, but too true, shall, from an indiscreet zeal, or a panic of fear, give infinite uneasiness to a family; shall ruin its peace en- tirely, and perhaps cause one or more of its members to be the un- happy victims of the most barba- rous of all tribunals. What dis- tractions must necessarily break forth in a house where the husband and wife are at variance, or the children loose and wicked! Will sueh children scruple to sacrifice a father, who endeavours to re- strain them by his exhortations, by reproofs, or paternal corrections ? Will they not rather, after plun- dering his house to support their extravagance and riot, readily deliver up their unhappy parent to all the horrors of a tribunal found- ed on the blackest injustice ? A riotous husband, or a loose wife, has an easy opportunity, assisted by means of the ^persecution in question, to rid themselves of one who is a check to their vices, by delivering him, or her, up to the rigours of the inquisition." When the inquisitors have taken umbrage against an innocent per- son, all expedients are used to facilitate his condemnation ; false oaths and testimonies are employed to prove the accused to be guilty ; and all laws and institutions are sacrificed to the bigoted revenge of papacy. When a person accused is taken, his treatment is deplorable. The gaolers first begin by searching him for books and papers which might tend to his conviction, or for in- truments which might be em- ployed in self-murder or escape, and on this pretext they even rob him of his wearing apparel. When he has been searched and robbed, he is committed to prison. In- nocence, on such an occasion, is a weak reed ; nothing being easier than to ruin an innocent person. The mildest sentence is impri- sonment for life; yet the inquisitors proceed by degrees, at once subtle, slow, and cruel. The gaoler first of all insinuates himself into the prisoner's favour, by pretending to wish him well, and advise him well ; and among other pretended kind hints, tells him to petition for an audit. When he is brought before the consistory, the first de- mand is, " What is your request?" To this the prisoner very naturally answers, that he would have a hearing. Hereupon one of the inquisitors replies, " Your hearing is this ; confess the truth, conceal nothing, and rely on our mercy." Now, if the prisoner make a con- fession of any trifling affair, they immediately found an indictment THE INQUISITION. 121 ©nit; ifheismute, they shut him up without light, or any food but a scanty allowance of bread and water, till his obstinacy is over- come ; and if he declare he is in- nocent, they torment him till he either die with the pain, or confess himself guilty. On the re-examinations of such as confess, they continually say, " You have not been sincere, you tell not all ; you keep many things concealed, and therefore must be remanded to your dungeon." When those who have stood mute are called for re-examination, if they continue silent, such tortures are ordered as will either make them speak, or kill them ; and when those who proclaim their innocence are re-examined, a crucifix is held before them, and they are solemnly exhorted to take an oath of their confession of faith. This brings them to the test; they must either swear they are Roman Catholics, or acknow- ledge they are not. If they ac- knowledge they are not, they are proceeded against as heretics. If they acknowledge they are Roman Catholics, a string of accusations is brought against them, to which they are obliged to answer ex- tempore ; no time being given even to arrange their answers. On hav- ing verbally answered, pen, ink, and paper are given them, in order to produce a written answer, which must in every degree coincide with the verbal answer. If the \erbal and written answers differ, the prisoners are charged with prevarication; if one contain more than the other, they are accused of wishing to conceal certain cir- cumstances; if they both agree, they are charged with premeditated artifice. After a person impeached is condemned, he is either severely whipped, violently tortured, sent to the galleys, or sentenced to death ; and in either case his effects are confiscated. After judgment, a procession is performed to the place of execution, which ceremony is called an Auto da FS, or Act of Faith. AUTO DA FE AT MADRID. The following is an account of an Auto da Fe, at Madrid, in the year 1(582. The officers of the inquisition, preceded by trumpets, kettle- drums, and their banner, marched on the 30th of May, in cavalcade, to the palace of the great square, where they declared by proclama- tion, that on the 30th of June the sentence of the prisoners would be put in execution. There had not been a spectacle of this kind at Madrid for several years, for which reason it was expected by the inhabitants with as much im- patience as a day of the greatest festivity and triumph. When the day appointed arrived, a prodigious number of people ap- peared, dressed as splendidly as their circumstances would allow. In the great square was raised a high scaffold ; and thither, from seven in the morning till the even- ing, were brought criminals of both sexes; all the inquisitions in the kingdom sending their pri- soners to Madrid. Twenty men and women of these prisoners, with one renegado Mahometan, were ordered to be burnt; fifty Jews and Jewesses, having never before been imprisoned, and re- penting of their crimes, were sen- tenced to a long confinement, and to wear a yellow cap; and ten others, indicted for bigamy, witch- craft, and other crimes, were sen- tenced to be whipped, and then sent to the galleys : these last wore large pasteboard caps, with inscriptions on them, having a halter about their necks, and torches in their hands. On this solemn occasion the whole court of Spain was present. The grand inquisitor's chair was placed in a sort of tribunal far above that of the king. The nobles here acted the part of the sheriff's oflBcers in England, leading such criminals as were to be burned, 122 BOOK OF MARTYRS. and holding them when fast bound with thick cords: the rest of the criminals were conducted by the familiars of the inquisition. Among those who were to suffer, was a young Jewess of exquisite beauty, only seventeen years of age. Being on the same side of the scaffold where the queen was seated, she addressed her, in hopes of obtaining a pardon, in the fol- lowing pathetic speech: "Great queen ! will not your royal pre- sence be of some service to me in my miserable condition? Have re- gard to my youth; and, oh! con- sider that I am about to die for professing a religion imbibed from my earliest infancy!" Her ma- jesty seemed greatly to pity her distress, but turned away her eyes, as she did not dare to speak a word in behalf of a person who had been declared an heretic by the inquisition. Mass now began, in the midst of which the priest came from the altar, placed near the scaffold, and seated himself in a chair prepared for that purpose. Then the chief inquisitor descended from the amphitheatre, dressed in his cope, and having a mitre on his head. After bowing to the altar, he ad- vanced towards the king's balcony, and went up to it, attended by some of his officers, carrying a cross and the gospels, with a book containing the oath by which the kings of Spain oblige themselves to protect the Catholic faith, to extirpate heretics, and support, with all their power, the prosecutions and decrees of the inquisition. On the approach of the inquisitor, and on his presenting this book to the king, his majesty rose up bare- headed, and swore to maintain the oath, which was read to him by one of his counsellors : after which the king continued standing till the inquisitor had returned to his place ; when the secretary of the holy office mounted a sort of pulpit, and administered a like oath to the counsellors and the whole as- sembly. The mass was begun about twelve at noon, and did not end till nine in the evening, being protracted, by a proclamation of the sentences of the several cri- minals, which were all separately rehearsed aloud one after the other. Next followed the burning of the twenty-one men and women, whose intrepidity in suffering that horrid death was truly astonishing: some thrust their hands and feet into the flames with the most dauntless fortitude; and all of them yielded to their fate with such resolution, that many of the amazed specta- tors lamented that such heroic souls had not been more enliffktened! The situation of the king was so near to the criminals, that their dying groans were very audible to him : he could not, however, be absent from this dreadful scene, as it is esteemed a religious one ; and his coronation oath obliges him to give a sanction by his presence to all the acts of the tribunal. ANOTHER AUTO DA F^. Another Auto da Fe is thus de- scribed by Dr. Geddes: — " At the place of execution there are so many stakes set as there are pri- soners to be burned, a large quan- tity of dry furze being set about them. The stakes of the protest- ants, or, as the inquisitors call them, the professed, are about four yards high, and have each a small board, whereon the pri- soner is seated within half a yard of the top. The professed then go up a ladder betwixt two priests, who attend the whole day of ex- ecution. When they come even with the fore-mentioned board, they turn about to the people, and the priests spend near a quarter of an hour in exhorting them to be re- conciled to the see of Rome. On their refusing, the priests come down, and the executioner as- cending, turns the professed from off the ladder upon the seat, chains their bodies close to the stakes, and leaves them. Then the priests go up a second time to renew their exhortations, and if they find them THE INQUISITION. 1?3 ineffectual, usually tell them, a't parting;, that they leave them to the devil, who is standing at their el- bow ready to receive their souls, a)ul carry them with him into the flames of hell-fire, as soon as they arc out of their bodies. " A general shout is then raised, and when the priests get off the ladder, the universal cry is, ' Let the dog's beards be made,' which implies, singe their beards ; this is accordingly performed by means of ilaming furzes thrust against their faces with long poles. This barbarity is repeated till their faces are burnt, and is accompanied with loud acclamations. Fire is then set to the furzes, and the criminals are consumed." INQUISITION OF PORTUGAL. The inquisition of Portugal is exactly upon a similar plan to that of Spain, having been instituted about the same time, and put un- der the same regulations, and the proceedings nearly resemble each other. The house, or ra,ther palace, of the'inquisition, is a noble edifice. It contains four courts, each about forty feet square, round which are about .300 dungeons or cells. The dungeons on the ground-floor are for the lowest class of prisoners, and those on the second floor are for persons of superior rank. The galleries are built of freestone, and hid from view both within and with- out by a double wall of about fifty feet high. So extensive is the whole prison, which contains so many turnings and windings, that none but those well acquainted with it can find the way through its va- rious avenues. The apartments of the chief inquisitor are spacious and elegant; the entrance is through a large gate, which leads into a court-yard, round which are seve- ral chambers, and some large sa- loons for the king, royal family, and the rest of the court to stand and observe the executions during an Auto da Fe. A testoon (sevenpence halfpenny English money) is allowed every prisoner daily ; and the principal gaoler, accompanied by two other officers, monthly visits every pri- soner to inquire how he would have his allowance laid out. This visit, however, is only a matter of form, for the gaoler usually lays out the money as he pleases, and commonly allows the prisoner daily a porringer of broth, half a pound of beef, a small piece of bread, and a trifling portion of cheese. Centinels walk about cc itinually to listen; if the least noise is heard, they call to, and threaten the prisoner ; if the noise is repeat- ed, a severe beating ensues. The following is a fact : a prisoner hav- ing a violent cough, one l^of the guards came and ordered him not to make a noise ; to which he re- plied that it was not in his power to forbear. The cough increasing, the guard went into the cell, strip- ped the poor creature naked, and beat him so unmercifully that he soon after died. Sometimes a prisoner passes months without knowing of what he is accused, or having the least idea of when he is to be tried. The gaoler at length informs him, that he must petition for a trial. This ceremony being gone through, he is taken for examination. When they come to the door of the tribu- nal, the gaoler knocks three times, to give the judges notice of their approach. A bell is rung by one of the judges, when an attendant opens the door, admits the prisoner, and seats him on a stool. The prisoner is then ordered by the president to kneel down, and lay his right hand upon a book, which is presented to him close shut. This being complied with, the following question is put to him: "Will you promise to con- ceal the secrets of the holy office, and to speak the truth?" Should he answer in the negative, he is re- manded to his cell, and cruelly treated. If he answer in the affir- mative, he is ordered to be again seated, and the examination pro- ceeds; when the president asks a 124 BOOK OF MARTYRS. variety of questions, and the clerk minutes both them and the an- swers. When the examination is closed, the bell is again rung, the gaoler appears, and the prisoner is order- ed to withdraw, with this exhorta- tion : "Tax your memory, recollect all the sins you have ever commit- ted, and when you are again brought here, communicate them to the holy office." The gaolers and attendants, when apprised that the prisoner has made an ingenu- ous confession, and readily an- swered every question, make him a low bow, and treat him with an affected kindness, as a reward for his candour. He is brought in a few days to a second examination, with the same formalities as before. The inqui- sitors often deceive prisoners by promising the greatest lenity, and even to restore their liberty, if they will accuse themselves ; the unhappy persons, who are in their power, frequently fall into this snare, and are sacrificed to their own simplicity. Instances have oc- curred of some, who, relying on the faith of the judges, have accused themselves of what they were to- tally innocent of, in expectation of obtaining their liberty ; and thus became martyrs to their own folly. There is another artifice made use of by the inquisitors : if a pri- soner has too much resolution to accuse himself, and too much sense to be ensnared by their so- phistry, they proceed thus : a copy of an indictment against the pri- soner is given him, in which, among many trivial accusations, he is charged with the most enormous crimes, of which human nature is capable. This rouses his temper, and he exclaims against such false- hoods. He is then asked which of the crimes he can deny. He natu- rally mentions the most atrocious, and begins to express his abhor- rence of them, when the indict- ment being snatched out of his hand, the president says, " By your denying only those crimes which you mention, you implicitly confess the rest, and we shall there- fore proceed accordingly." Some- times they make a ridiculous affec- tation of equity, by pretending that the prisoner may be indulged with a counsellor, if he chooses to de- mand one. Such a request is sometimes made, and a counsellor appointed ; but upon these occa- sions, as the trial itself is a mock- ery of justice, so the counsellor is a mere cypher: for he is not permit- ted to say any thing that might of- fend the inquisition, or to advance a syllable that might benefit the prisoner. Though the inquisitors allow the torture to be used only three times, yet at those three it is so severely inflicted, that the prisoner either dies under it, or continues always after a cripple. The following is a description of the severe torments occasioned by the torture, from the account of one who sufi'ered it the three respective times, but happily survived its cruelties. FIRST TIME OF TORTURING. The prisoner, on refusing to com- ply with the iniquitous demands of the inquisitors, by confessing all the crimes they charged him with, was immediately conveyed to the torture-room, which, to prevent the cries of the sufferers from being heard by the other prisoners, is lined with a kind of quilting, which covers all the crevices, and deadens the sound. The prisoner's horror was extreme on entering this infer- nal place, when suddenly he was surrounded by six wretches, who, after preparing the tortures, strip- ped him naked to his drawers. He was then laid upon his back on a kind of stand, elevated a few feet from the floor. They began by put- ting an iron collar round his neck, and a ring to each foot, which fasten- ed him to the stand. His limbs being thus stretched out, they wound two ropes round each arm, and two round each thigh ; which ropes being passed under the scaf- fold, through holes made for that THE INQUISITION. 135 purpose, were all drawn tight at the same instant of time, by four of the men, on a given signal. The pains which immediately succeeded were intolerable ; the ropes, which were of the small size, cut through the prisoner's flesh to the bone, making the blood gush out at eight different places. As he persisted in not making any confession of what the inquisitors required, the ropes were drawn in this manner four times successively. A physician and surgeon attend- ed, and often felt his temples, in order to judge of the danger he might be in ; by which means his tortures were for a small time sus- pended, that he might have suffi- cient opportunity of recovering his spirits to sustain each ensuing tor- ture. During this extremity of an- guish, while the tender frame is being torn, as it were, in pieces, while at every pore it feels the sharpest pangs of death, and the agonized soul is just ready to burst forth, and quit its wretched man- sion, the ministers of the inquisi- tion have the obduracy to look on without emotion, and calmly to ad- vise the poor distracted creature to confess his imputed guilt, on doing which they tell him he may obtain a free pardon, and receive absolu- tion. All this, however, was inef- fectual with the prisoner, whose mind was strengthened by a sweet consciousness of innocence, and the divine consolation of religion. While he was thus suffering, the physician and surgeon were so bar- barous as to declare, that if he died under the torture, he would be guil- ty, by his obstinacy, of self-murder. In short, at the last time of the ropes being drawn tight, he grew so exceedingly weak, by the stop- page of the circulation of his blood, and the pains he endured, that he fainted away ; upon which he was unloosed, and carried back to his dungeon. SECOND TIME OF TORTURING. These inhuman wretches, finding that the torture inflicted, as above described, instead of extorting a discovery from the prisoner, only served the more fervently to excite his supplication to Heaven for pa- tience and power to persevere ia truth and integrity, were so barba- rous, in six weeks after, as to ex- pose him to another kind of torture, more severe, if possible, than the former; the manner of inflicting which was as follows : they forced his arms backwards, so that the palms of his hands were turned outward behind him ; when, by means of a rope that fastened them together at the wrists, and which was turned by an engine, they drew them by degrees nearer each other, in such a manner that the back of each hand touched and stood ex- actly parallel to each other. In consequence of this violent contor- tion, both his shoulders were dislo- cated, and a considerable quantity of blood issued from his .mouth. This torture was repeated thrice ; after which he was again taken to the dungeon, and delivered to the physician and surgeon, who, in set- ting the dislocated bones, put him to the most exquisite torment. THIRD TIME OF TORTURING. About two months after the se- cond torture, the prisoner, being a little recovered, was again ordered to the torture-room; and there made to undergo another kind of punisliment. The executioners fas- tened a thick iron chain twice round his body, which, crossing upon his stomach, terminated at the wrists. They then placed him with his back against a thick board, at each extremity whereof was a pulley, through which there run a rope that caught the ends of the chain at his wrists. Then the exe- cutioner stretching the end of this rope, by means of a roller placed at a distance behind him, pressed or bruised his stomach in proportion as the ends of the chain were drawn tighter. They tortured him in this manner to such a degree, that his wrists, as well as his shoulders, were quite dislocated. They were, 126 BOOK OF MARTYRS. however, soon set by the surg^eons ; but the barbarians, not yet satisfied with this infernal cruelty, made him immediately undergo the like tor- ture a second time ; wliich he sus- tained (thousfh, if possible, attend- ed with keener pains,) with equal constancy and resolution. He was then again remanded to his dun- geon, attended by the surgeon to dress his bruises and adjust the parts dislocated ; and here he con- tinued till their Auto da Fe, or gaol delivery, when he was happily dis- ■charged. It may be judged, from the before- mentioned reliation, what dreadful agony the sufferer must have en- dured. Most of his limbs were dis- jointed; so much was he bruised and exhausted, as to be unable, for some weeks, to lift his hand to his mouth ; and his body became greatly swelled from the inflamma- tions caused by such frequent dis- locations. After his discharge he felt the effects of this cruelty for the remainder of his life, being fre- quently seized with thrilling and excruciating pains, to which he had never been subject, till after he had the misfortune to fall into the power of the merciless and bloody inquisition. The unhappy females who fall into their hands, have not the least favour shown them on account of the softness of their sex, but are tortured with as much severity as the male prisoners, with the addi- tional mortification of having the most shocking indecencies added to the most savage barbarities. Should the above-mentioned modes of torturing force a confes- sion from the prisoner, he is re- manded to his horrid dungeon, and left a prey to the melan- choly of his situation, to the an- guish arising from what he has suf- fered, and to the dreadful ideas of future barbarities. Should he re- fuse to confess, he is, in the same manner, remanded to his dungeon ; but a stratagem is used to draw from him what the torture fails to do. A companion is allowed to attend him, under the pretence of waiting upon, and comforting his mind till his wounds are healed: this person, who is always selected forjjhis cunning, insinuates himself into the good graces of the pri- soner, laments the anguish he feels, sympathizes with him, and, taking an advantage of the hasty expressions forced from him by pain, does all he can to dive into his secrets. This companion sometimes pretends to be a pri- soner like himself, and imprisoned on similar charges. This is to draw the unhappy person into a mutual confidence, and persuade him, in unbosoming his grief, to betray his private sentiments. Frequently these snares succeed, as they are the more alluring by being glossed over M'ith the ap- pearance of friendship and sym- pathy. Finally, if the prisoner cannot be found guilty, he is either tortured or harassed to death, though a few have sometimes had the good fortune to be discharged, but not without having suffered the most dreadful cruelties. The inquisition also takes cog- nizance of all new books ; and to- lerates or condemns with the same justice and impartialitij by which all its proceedings are distin- guished. When a book is published, it is carefully read by some of the fa- miliars ; who, too ignorant and bi- goted to distinguish truth, and too malicious to relish beauties, searcli not for the merits, but for the de- fects of an author, and pursue the slips of his pen with unremitting diligence. They read with preju- dice, judge with partiality, pursue errors with avidity, and strain that which is innocent into an offensive meaning. They misapply, con- found, and pervert the sense ; and when they have gratified the ma- lignity of their disposition, charge their blunders upon the author, that a prosecution may be founded upon their false conceptions, and designed misinterpretations. Any trivial charge causes the THE INQUISITION. 127 censure of a book ; but it is to be observed, that the censure is of a three-fold nature, viz. 1. When the book is wholly con- demned. 2. When it is partly condemned ; that is, when certain passages are pointed out as exceptionable, and ordered to be expunged. 3. When it is deemed incorrect; the meaning of which is, that a few words or expressions displease the inquisitors. These, therefore, are ordered to be altered, and such alterations go under the name of corrections. There is a catalogue of con- demned books annually published under the three diiferent heads of censures, already mentioned, which being printed on a large sheet of paper, is hung up in the most public and conspicuous places. After which, people are obliged to destroy all such books as come under the first censure, and to keep none belonging to the other two censures, unless the ex- ceptionable passages have been expunged, and the corrections made, as in either case disobe- dience would be of tbe most fatal consequence ; for the possessing or reading the proscribed books are deemed very atrocious crimes. The publisher of such books is usually ruined in liis circum- stances, and sometimes obliged to pass the remainder of his life in the inquisition. Where such an absurd and de- testable system exercises its dead- ening influence over the literature of a nation, can we be surprised tliat the grossest ignorance and the most bigoted superstition pre- vail? How can that people be- come enlightened, among whom the finest productions of genius are prohibited, all discussion pre- vented, the most innocent in- quiries liable to misconstruction and punishment, the materials for thinking proscribed, and even thought itself chained down, and checked by the fear of its escaping into expression, and thus bringing certain and cruel punishment on him who has dared to exercise his reason, the noblest gift of his Al- mighty Creator. Surely every well wisher to the human race, must rejoice in the downfall of this most barbarous and infernal of all tribunals ; and must view with in- dignation and abhorrence the ini- quitous attempts now making to re-establish it in those unhappy countries which so long groaned under its sway. SECTION II. BARBARITIES EXERCISED BY THE INQUISITIONS OF SPAIN AND POR- TUGAL. Francis Romanes, a native of Spain, was employed by the mer- chants of Antwerp, to transact some business for them at Bremen. He had been educated in the Rom- ish persuasion, but going one day into a protestant church, he was struck with the truths which he heard, and beginning to perceive the errors of popery, he deter- mined to search farther into the matter. Perusing the sacred scriptures, and the writings of some protestant divines, he per- ceived how erroneous were the principles which he had formerly- embraced; and renounced the impo- sitions of popery for the doctrines of the reformed church, in which religion appeared in all its genuine purity. Resolving to think only of his eternal salvation, he studied religious truths more than trade, and purchased books rather than merchandise, convinced that the riches of the body are trilling to those of the soul. He therefore resigned his agency to the mer- chants of Antwerp, giving them an account at the same time of his conversion ; and then resolving, if possible, to convert his parents, he went to Spain for that purpose. But the Antwerp merchants writ- ing to the inquisitors, he was seized upon, imprisoned for some 128 BOOK OF MARTYRS. tiaie, ?.nd then condemned to be burnt as an heretic. He was led to the place of execution in a gar- ment painted over with devils, and had a paper mitre put upon his head by way of derision. As he passed by a wooden cross, one of the priests bade him kneel to it; but he absolutely refused so to do, saying, " It is not for Christians to •worship wood." Having been placed upon a pile of wood, the fire quickly reached him, where- upon he lifted up his head sud- denly ; the priests thinking he meant to recant, ordered him to be taken down. Finding, however, that they were mistaken, and that he still retained his constancy, he was placed again upon the pile, where, as long as he had life and voice remaining, he kept repeat- ing the seventh psalm. A CARVER BURNT FOR INJURING AN IMAGE. At St. Lucar, in Spain, resided a carver, named Rochus, whose principal business was to make images of saints and other popish idols. Becoming, however, con- vinced of the errors of the Romish persuasion, he embraced the pro- testant faith, left off carving images, and for subsistence fol- lowed the business of a seal en- graver only. He had, however, retained one image of the Virgin Mary for a sign; when an inquisi- tor passing by, asked if he would sell it. Rochus mentioned a price; the inquisitor objected to it, and offered half the money. Ro- chus replied, " I would rather break it to pieces than take such a trifle." — " Break it to pieces !" said the inquisitor; "break it to pieces if you dare !" Rochus, pro- voked at this expression, snatched up a chisel, and cut off the nose of the image. This was sufficient ; the inquisitor went away in a rage, and soon after the carver was ap- prehended. In vain did he plead that what he had defaced was his own property; his fate was de- cided: he was condemned to be burnt, and the sentence was exe- cuted accordingly. A doctor Cacalla, his brother Francis, and his sister Blanche, Mere burnt at Valladolid, for hav- ing spoken against the inquisi- tors. HORRID TREACHERY OF AN INQUI- SITOR. A lady, with her two daughters and her niece, were apprehended at Seville for professing the pro- testant religion. They were all put to the torture : and when that was over, one of the inquisitors sent for the youngest daughter, pretended to sympathise with her, and pity her sufferings ; then bind- ing himself with a solemn oath not to betray her, he said, " If you will disclose all to me, I pro- mise you I will procure the dis- charge of your mother, sister, cou- sin, and yourself." Made confi- dent by his oath, and entrapped by promises, she revealed the whole of the tenets they professed ; when the perjured wretch, instead of acting as he had sworn, imme- diately ordered h.er to be pat to the rack, saying, " Now you have revealed so much, I will make you reveal more." Refusing, how- ever, to say any thing farther, they were all ordered to be burnt, which sentence was executed at the next Auto da Fe. The keeper of the castle of Tri- ano, belonging to the inquisitors of Seville, happened to be of a dispo- sition more mild and humane than is usual with persons in his situa- tion. He gave all the indulgence lie could to the prisoners, and shewed them every favour in his power, with as much secrecy as possible. At length, however, the inquisitors became acquainted with his kindness, and determined to punish him severely for it, that other gaolers might be deterred from shewing the least traces of that compassion which ought to glow in the breast of every human being. With this view they imme- diately threw him into a dismal dungeon, and used him with dread- 4 THE INQUlSITIOrvT. 123 fill fjarbarity that he lost his stMises. His deplorable situation, however, procured him no favour; for, frantic as he was, tliey brouaiht him from prison, at an Auto da Fe, to the usual place of punishment, with a sanbenito (or garment worn by criminals) on, and a rope about his neck. His sentence was then read, and ran thus : that lie should be placed upon an ass, led tlirough the city, receive 200 stripes, and then be condemned for six years to the galleys. This un- happy, frantic wretch, just as tiiey were about to begin his punish- ment, suddenly sprung from the back of the ass, broke the cords that bound him, snatched a sword from one of the guards, and dan- gerously wounded an officer of the inquisition. Being overpowered by multitudes, he was prevented from doing further mischief, seiz- ed, bound more securely to the ass, and punished according to his Sentence. But so inexorable were the inquisitors, that, for the rash effects of his madness, four years were added to his slavery iu the galleys. Method of tiirtuniig the tnmitive Christians. A maid-servant to another gaoler belonging to the inquisition was accused of humanity, and detected in bidding the prisoners keep up their spirits. For these heinous crimes, as they were called, she was publicly whipped, banished her native place for ton years, and had her forehead branded with these words, " A favourer and FOX'S MAUTVRS. aider of heretics." Near the same time, John Pontic, a protcslant gentleman, was, principally oa ac- count of his great estate, appre- hended by the inquisitors, and charged with heresy. On this charge all his effects were confis- cated to the use of the inquisition, and his body burnt to ashes. John Gonsalvo, origfiially a 130 BOOK OF MARTYRS. priest, but who had embraced the reformed religion, was, with his mother, brother, and two sisters, seized upon by the inquisitors. Beings condemned, they were led to execution, singing part of the 106th psalm. They were ordered at the place of execution to say the creed, which they immediately complied with, but coming to these words, " the holy catholic church," they were commanded to add the monosyllables " of Rome," which absolutely refusing, one of the in- quisitors said, " Put an end to their lives directly;" when the executioners obeyed, and stran- gled them. Four protestant women were seized upon at Seville, tortured, and afterwards ordered for execu- tion. On the way they began to sing psalms; but the officeis think- ing that the words of the psalms reflected on themselves, put gags into their mouths to make them si- lent. They were then burnt, and the houses where they resided or- dered to be demolished. A protestant schoolmaster, nam- ed Ferdinando, was apprehended by order of the inquisition, for in- structing his pupils in the princi- ples of protestantism; and after being severely tortured, was com- mitted to the flames. A monk, who had abjured the errors of popeiy, was imprisoned at the same time as Ferdinando ; but through the fear of death, he said he was willing to embrace his former communion. Ferdinando hearing of this, got an opportunity to speak to him, reproached him with his weakness, and threatened him v/ith eternal perdition; when the monk, sensible of his crime, returned to the protestant faith, and declared to the inquisitors that he solemnly renounced his in- tended recantation. Sentence of death was therefore passed upon him, and he was burned at the same time as Ferdinando. A Spanish Roman Catholic, named Juliano, on travelling into Germany, became a convert to the protestant religion ; and undertook to convey from Germany into his own country a great number of Bibles, concealed in casks, and packed up like Rhenish wine. This important commission he suc- ceeded in, so far as to distribute the books. A pretended protest- ant, however, who had purchased one of the Bibles, betrayed hirn, and laid an account of the aftair before the inquisition. Juliano was then seized upon, and all means being used to find out the purchasers of these Bibles, 800 persons were apprehended. They were all tortured, and most of them sentenced to various other punishments. Juliano was burnt, twenty were roasted upon spits, several imprisoned for life, some publicly whipped, many sent to the galleys, and very few indeed acquitted. A protestant tailor of Spain, named John Leon, travelled to Germany, and from thence to Ge- neva, where hearing that a great number of English protestants were returning to their native country, he, and some more Spa- niards, determined to go with them. The Spanish inquisitors being apprised of their intentions, sent a number of familiars in pur- suit of them, who overtook them at a seaport in Zealand. The pri- soners were heavily fettered, hand- cufied, gagged, had their heads and necks covered with a kind of iron net-work, and in this misera- ble condition they were conveyed to Spain, thrown into a dungeon, almost famished, barbarously tor- tured, and then burnt. A young lady having been put" into a convent, absolutely refused to take the veil ; and on leaving the cloister she embraced the pro- testant faith, on which she was ap- prehended and committed to the flames. An eminent physician and phi- losopher, named Christopher Lo- sada, became extremely obnoxious to the inquisitors, by exposing the errors of popery, and professing the tenets of protestantism. He was apprehended, imprisoned, and THE INQUISITION« 131 racked : but those severities not makinof him confess the Roman Catholic church to be the only true one, he was sentenced to the fire ; which he bore with exem- plary patience, and resigned his soul to his Creator. Arias, a monk of St. Isidore's monastery at Seville, was a man of great abilities, but of a vicious disposition. He sometimes pre- tended to forsake the errors of the church of Rome, and become a protestant, and soon after turned Roman Catholic. Thus he conti- nued a long time wavering be- tween both persuasions, till God thought proper to touch his heart. He now became a true protestant; and the sincerity of his conversion being known, he was seized by the oflScers of the inquisition, severely tortured, and afterwards burnt at an Auto da Fe. A young lady, named Maria de Coceicao, who resided with her brother at Lisbon, was taken up by the inquisitors, and ordered to be put to the rack. The torments she felt made her confess the charges against her. The cords were then slackened, and she was re-conducted to her cell, where she remained till she had recovered the use of her limbs; she was then brought again before the tribunal, and ordered to ratify her confes- sion. This she absolutely refused to do, telling them, that what she had said was forced from her by the excessive pain she underwent. The inquisitors, incensed at this reply, ordered her again to be put to the rack, when the weakness of nature once more prevailed, and she repeated her former confes- sion. She was immediately re- manded to her cell : and being a third time brought before the in- quisitors, they ordered her to sign her first and second confessions. She answered as before, but added, " I have twice given way to the frailty of the flesh, and per- haps may, while on the rack, be weak enough to do so again ; but depend upon it, if you torture me an hundred times, as soon as I am released from the rack I shall deny what was extorted from me by pain." The inquisitors then or- dered her to be racked a third time; and, during this last trial, she bore the torments with the ut- most fortitude, and could not be persuaded to answer any of the questions put to her. As her cou- rage and constancy increased, the inquisitors, instead of putting her to death, condemned her to a se- vere whipping through the public streets, and banishment for ten years. A lady of a noble family in Seville, named Jane Bohorquia, was apprehended on the informa- tion of her sister, who had been tortured and burnt for professing the protestant religion. Being pregnant, they let her remain tolerably quiet till she was de- livered, when they immediately took away the child, and put it to nurse, that it might be brought up a Romau Catholic. Soon afterwards this unfortunate lady was ordered to be racked, which was done with such severity, that she expired a week after of the wounds and bruises. Upon this occasion the inquisitors affected some remorse, and in one of the printed acts of the inquisition, which they always publish at an Auto da Fe, this young lady is thus mentioned: " Jane Bohorquia was found dead in prison; after which, upon re- viving the prosecution, the inqui- sitors discovered she was innocent. — Be it therefore known, that no further prosecutions shall be carried on against her; and that her effects, which were confiscated, shall be given to the heirs at law." One sentence in the above ridicu- lous passage, wants explanation, viz. that no further prosecutions shall be carried on against her. This alludes to the absurd custom of prosecuting and burning the bones of the dead : for when a prisoner dies in the inquisition, the process continues the same as if he was living; the bones are deposited in a chest, and if sen- tence of guilt is passed, they are 132 BOOK OF MARTYRS. brought out at the next Auto da Fe; the sentence is read against them with as much solemnity as against a living prisoner, and they are committed to the flames. In a similar manner are prosecu- tions carried on against prisoners who escape ; and when their per- sons are far beyond the reach of the inquisitors, they are burnt in effigy. Isaac Orobio, a learned phy- sician, having beaten a Moorish servant for stealing, was accused by him of professing Judaism, and the inquisitors seized him upon the charge. He w;is kept three years in prison before he had the least intimation of what he was to undergo, and then suffered the fol- lowing six modes of torture: 1. A coarse linen coat was put upon him, and then drawn so tight that the circulation of the blood was nearly stopped, and the breath almost pressed out of his body. After this the strings were suddenly loosened, when the air forcing its w ay hastily into his stomach, and the blood rushing into its channels, he suffered the most incredible pain. 2. His thumbs were tied with small cords so hard that the blood gushed from under the nails. .3. He was seated on a bench with his back against a wall, wherein small iron pulleys were fixed. Ropes being fastened to several parts of his body and limbs, were passed through the pulleys, and being suddenly drawn with great violence, his whole frame was forced into a distorted mass. 4. After having suffered for a consi- derable time the pains of the last- mentioned position, the seat was snatched away, aud he was left suspended against the wall. 5. A little instrument with five knob.**,, and which went with springs, being placed near his face, he suddenly received five blows on the cheek, which put him to such pain as caused him to faint. 6. The ex- ecutioners fastened ropes round his wrists, and then drew them about his body. Placing him on his back with his feet against the wall, they pulled with the utmost violence, till the cord had pene- trated to the bone. He suffered the last torture three times, and then lay seventy days before his wounds were healed. He was afterwards banished, and in his exile wrote the account of his suf- ferings, from which the foregoing particulars are chieffy extracted. A famous writer of Toledo, and~~ a protestant, was fond of pro- ducing fine specimens of writing, and having them framed to adorn the different apartments of his house. Among other curious ex- amples of penmanship, was a large piece containing the Lord's prayer, creed, and ten commandments, in verse. This piece, which hung in a conspicuous part of the house, was one day seen by a person be- longing to the inquisition, who ob- served that the versification of the commandments was not according to the church of Rome, but accord- ing to the protestant church : for the protestants retain the whole of the commandments as they are found in the Bible, but the papists omit that part of the second com- mandment which forbids the wor- ship of images. The inquisition soon had information of the cir- cumstance, and this gentleman was seized, prosecuted, and burnt, only for ornamenting his house, with a specimen of his skill. SECTION III. TRIAL AND SUFFERINGS OF MR. ISAAC MARTIN. In the year 1714, about Lent, Mr. Martin arrived at Malaga, with his wife and four children. On the examination of his bag- gage, his liible, and some other iiooks, were seized. He was ac- cused in about three months time of being a Jew, for these curious reasons, that his own name was Isaac, and one of his sons was named Abraham. The accusation was laid in the bishop's court, and THE INQUISITION. 133 lie informed the English consul of it, who said it was nothing but the malice of some of the Irish papists, whom he advised him al- ways to shun. The clergy sent to Mr. Martin's neighbours to know their opinion concerning him : the result of which inquiry was this, *' We believe him not to be a Jew, but an heretic." After this, being continually pestered by priests, particularly those of the Irish nation, to change his religion, he determined to dispose of what he had, and retire from Malaga. But when his resolution became known, at about nine o'clock at night he heard a knocking at his door. He demanded who was there. The persons Avithout said they wanted to enter. He desired they would come again the next morning ; but they replied, if he would not open the door they would break it open; which they did. Then about fif- teen persons entered, consisting of a commissioner, with several priests and familiars belonging to the inquisition. Mr. Martin would fain have gone to the English consul ; but they told him the con- sul had nothing to do in the matter, and then said, " Where are your beads and fire-arms V To which he answered, "I am an English pro- testant, and as such carry no pri- vate arms, nor make use of beads." They took away his watch, money, and other things, carried him to the bishop's prison, and put on him a pair of heavy fetters. His dis- tressed family waj, at the same time, turned out of doors till the house was stripped ; and when they had taken every thing away, they returned the key to his wife. About four days after his com- mitment, Mr. Martin was told he must be sent to Grenada to be tried : he earnestly begged to see his wife and children before he went, but this was denied. Being doubly fettered, he was mounted on a mule, and set out towards Grenada. By the way, the mule threw him upon a rocky part of tlie road, and almost broke his back. On his arrival at Grenada, after a journey of tliree days, he was detained at an inn till it was dark, for they never put any one into the inquisition during day-light. At night he was taken to the prison, and led along a range of galleries till he arrived at a dungeon. The gaoler nailed up a box of books, belonging to him, which had been brought from Malaga, saying, they must remain in that state till the lords of the inquisition chose to inspect them, for prisoners were not allowed to read books. He also took an inventory of every thing, which Mr. Martin had about him, even to his very buttons ; and having asked him a great number of frivolous questions, he at length gave him these orders : *' You must observe as great silence here, as if you were dead ; you must not speak, nor whistle, nor sing, nor make any noise that can be heard ; and if you hear any body cry, or make a noise, you must be still, and say nothing, upon pain of 200 lashes." Mr. Martin asked if he might have liberty to walk about the room ; the gaoler replied he might, but it must be very softly. After giv- ing him some wine, bread, and a few walnuts, the gaoler left him till the morning. — It was frosty wea- ther, the walls of the dungeon were between two and three feet thick, the floor was bricked, and a great deal of wind came though a hole of about a foot in length, and five inches in breadth, which served as aAvindow. The next morning the gaoler came to light his lamp, and bade him light a fire in order to dress his dinner. He then took him to a turn, or such a wheel as is found at the doors of convents, where a person on the other side turns the provisions round. He had then given him half a pound of mutton, two pouds of bread, some kidney beans, a bunch of raisins, and a pint of wine, which was the allowance for three days. He had likewise two pounds of charcoal, an earthen stove, and a few other articles. 134 BOOK OF MARTYRS. In about a week he was ordered to an audience ; he followed the gaoler, and coming to a large room saw a man sitting between two crucifixes; and another with a pen in his hand, who was, as he after- wards learned, the secretary. The chief lord inquisitor was the per- son between the two crucifixes ; and appeared to be about sixty years of age. He ordered Mr. M. to sit down upon a little stool that front- ed him. A frivolous examination then took place; the questions related to his family, their religion, &c. and his own tenets of faith. The prisoner admitted that he was a protestant, told the inquisitor that the religion of Christ admitted of no persecution, and concluded with saying that he hoped to re- main in that religion. He under- went five examinations, without any thing serious being alleged against him. In a few days after, he was called to his sixth aiidience, when after a few immaterial interrogatories, the inquisitor told him the charges against him should be read, and that he must give an immediate and prompt answer to each re- spective charge. The accusations against him were then read ; they amounted to twenty-six, but were principally of the most trivial nature, and the greater number wholly false, or, if founded on facts, so distorted and perverted by the malice of his accusers, as to bear little re- semblance to the real occurrences to which they related. Mr. Martin answered the whole of them firmly and discreetly, exposing their weakness, and detecting their falsehood.. He was then remanded to his dungeon; was shaved on Whit- sun-eve (shaving being allowed only three times in the year); and the next day one of the gaolers gave him some frankincense to be put into the fire, as he was to re- ceive a visit from the lords of the inquisition. Two of them accord- ingly came, asked many trivial questions, concluding them, as usual, with, " We will do you all the service we can." Mr. Martin complained greatly of their hav- ing promised him a lawyer to plead his cause; "when, instead of a proper person," said he, " there was a man whom you called a lawyer, but he never spoke to me, nor I to him : if all your lawyers are so quiet in this country, they are the quietest in the world, for he hardly said any thing but yes and no, to what your lordship said." To which one of the in- quisitors gravely replied, " Law- yers are not allowed to speak here." At this the gaoler and secretary went out of the dungeon to laugh, and Mr. Martin could scarce refrain from smiling in their faces, to think that his cause was to be defended by a man who scarce dared to open his lips. Some time after he was ordered to dress himself very clean: as soon as he was ready, one of the gaolers came and told him, that he must go with him : but that first he must have a.handkerchief tied about his eyes. He now expected the torture; but, after another ex- amination, was remanded to his dungeon. About a month afterwards, he had a rope put round his neck, and was led by it to the altar of the great church. Here his sentence was pronounced, which was, that for the crimes of which he stood convicted, the lords of the holy oflice had ordered him to be ba- nished out of the dominions of Spain, upon the penalty of 200 lashes, and being sent five years to the galleys; and that he should at present receive 200 lashes through the streets of the city of Grenada. Mr. Martin was sent again to his dungeon that night, and the next morning the executioner came, stripped him, tied his hands toge- ther, put a rope about his neck, and led him out of the prison. He was then mounted on an ass, and received his 200 lashes, amidst the shouts and peltings of the people. He remained a fortnight after this THE INQUISITION. 135 in gaol, and at length was sent to Malaga. Here he was put in gaol for some days, till he could be sent on board an English ship : which had no sooner happened, than news was brought of a rupture be- tween England and Spain, and that ship, with many others, was stop- ped. Mr. Martin not being con- sidered as a prisoner of war, was put on board of a Hamburgh trader, and his wife and children soon came io him ; but he was obliged to put up with the loss of his effects, which had been em- bezzled by the inquisition. His case was published by the desire of Secretary Craggs, the archbishops of Canterbury and York, the bishops of London, Win- chester, Ely, Norwich, Sarum, Chichester, St. Asaph, Lincoln, Bristol, Peterborough, Bangor, &c. SECTION IV. DISCOVERY OF SOME ENORMITIES OF THE INQUISITION. In the beginning of the last century, when the crown of Spain was contested for by two princes, France espoused the cause of one competitor, and England of the other. The duke of Berwick, (a natural son of James II. of Eng- land) commanded the Spanish and French forces, and defeated the English, at the battle of Al- manza. The army was then divid- ed into two parts ; the one, con- sisting of Spaniards and French, headed by the duke of Berwick, advanced towards Catalonia ; the other body, consisting of French troops only, commanded by the duke of Orleans, proceeded to the conquest of Arragon. On the troops appioaching the city of Arragon, the magistrates came to offer the keys to the duke of Orleans ; but be told them haugh- tily they were rebels, and that he would not accept the keys, for he had orders to enter the city through a breach. Accordingly, he made a breach in the walls with his cannon, and then entered the city through it, together with his whole aimy. When he had made regulations here, and ordered that heavy contributions should be levied, he departed to subdue other places, leaving a strong gar- rison under the command of his lieutenant-general M. De Legal. This gentleman, though brought up a Roman catholic, was totally free from superstition : he united great talents witli great bravery ; and was, at once, the accomplished gentleman and skilful officer. The money levied upon the ma- gistrates and principal inhabitants, and upon every house, was paid as soon as demanded ; but when the persons applied to the heads of the convents and monasteries, they found the ecclesiastics very unwilling to part with their cash. M. De Legal sent to the Jesuits a peremptory order to pay 2000 pistoles immediately. The supe- rior of the Jesuits returned for answer, that for the clergy to pay money to the army was against all ecclesiastical immunities ; and that he knew of no argument that could authorize such a procedure. M. De Legal then sent four com- panies of dragoons to quarter themselves in the college, with this sarcastic message : " To con- vince you of the necessity of pay- ing the money, I have sent four substantial arguments to your col- lege, drawn from the system of military logic ; and, therefore, hope you will not need any further ad- monition to direct your conduct." The Jesuits, greatly perplexed at these proceedings, dispatched an express to court to the king's confessor, who was of their order ; but the dragoons were much more expeditious in plundering and doing mischief, than the courier in his journey : so that the Jesuits, seeing every thing going to ruin, thought proper to adjust the mat- ter, and paid jthe money before the 136 BOOK OF MARTYRS. return of the messenger. The Augustins and Carmelites, taking •warning by what had happened to the Jesuits, prudently went and paid the money, and by that means escaped the study of military argu- ments, and of being taught logic by the dragoons. On the other hand, the Domini- cans, who are all agents of the in- quisition, imagined, that that very circumstance would be their protec- tion ; but the}' were mistaken, for M. De Legal neither feared nor re- spected the inquisition. The chief of the Dominicans sent word to the military commander, that his order was poor, and had not any money whatever to pay the donative ; •' for," said he, " the whole wealth of the Dominicans consists only in the silver images of the apostles and saints, which are placed in our church, and to remove which would be accounted sacrilege." This insinuation was meant to terrify the French commander ; he, however, sent word that the silver images would make admirable sub- stitutes for money, and would be more in character in his posses- sion than in that of the Dominicans themselves ; " for," said he, " while you possess them, they stand up in niches, useless and motionless, without being of the least benefit to niakind ; but when they come into my possession, they shall be useful ; I will put them in motion ; fOr I in- tend to have them coined, when they may travel like the apostles." The inquisitors were astonished at this treatment, which they never expected to receive, even from crowned heads ; they therefore de- termined to deliver their precious images in a solemn procession, that they might excite the people to an insurrection. The Dominican friars were accordingly ordered to march to De Legal's bouse, with the silver apostles and saints, in a mournful manner, having lighted tapers with them, and bitterly crying all the way, " Heresy ! heresy !" \yhen M. De Legal heard of these proceedings, he ordered four companies of grenadiers to lipe the streets which led to his house; each grenadier was ordered to have his loaded fuzee in one hand, and a lighted taper in the other: so that the troops might either repel force with force, or do honour to the farcical ceremony. The friars did all they could to raise a tumult, but the people were too much afraid of the troops ; the silver images were, therefore, delivered up to M. De Legal, who sent them to the mint to be coined. The inquisitors, however, deter- mined to excommunicate M. De Legal, unless he would release their precious saints from imprison- ment in the mint before they were melted down. The French com- mander absolutely refused to do this, upon which the inquisitors drew up the form of excommunica- tion, and ordered their secretary to go and read it to him. This commission the secretary punctually performed, and read the excommunication deliberately and distinctly. The French commander heard him with great patience, and politely told him he would answer it next day. As soon as the secre- tary was gone, M. De Legal order- ed his own secretary to prepare a form of excommunication exactly like that sent by the inquisition : but instead of his name, to put in those of the inquisitors. The next morning he ordered four regiments under arms, and commanded them to accompany his secretary, and act according to his direction. The secretary went to the inquisition, and insisted upon admittance ; which, after a great deal of altercation, was granted. As soon as he entered, he read, in an audible voice, the excommuni- cation sent by M, De Legal against the inquisitors. They were all pre- sent, and heard it with astonish- ment. They cried out against De Legal, as an heretic ; and said this was a most daring insult against the Catholic faith. But, to surprise them still more, the French secre- tary told them, they must remove from their present lodgings ; for the French commander wanted to quar- THE INQUISITION. 137 Icr his troops there, as it was the most commodious place iu the whole city. On this the inquisitors exclaimed loudly, when the secre- tary put them under a strong guard, and sent them to a place appointed by M. De Legal to receive them. Here, finding their threats disre- garded, they begged thatthey might be permitted to retire from the city, taking with them their private pro- perty, which was granted, and they immediately set out for Madrid, where they made the most bitter complaints to the king ; but the monarch told them, he could not grant them any redress, as the in- juries they had received were from the troops of his grandfather, the king of France, by whose assistance alone he could be firmly established in his kingdom. In the mean time, M. De Legal set open all the doors of the inqui- sition, and released the prisoners, who amounted in the whole to 400; and among these were sixty beauti- ful yoking women, who formed a se- raylio for the three principal inqui- sitors. This discovery, which laid open the enormity of the inquisitors, greatly alarmed the archbishop, who desired M. De Legal to send the women to his palace, and he would take proper care of them ; and at the same time he published an ecclesiastical censure against all such as should ridicule or blame the holy inquisition. But the French commander sent word to the arch- bishop, thatthe prisoners had either ran away, or were securely con- cealed by their friends, or his own officers ; that it was impossible for him to send them back again ; and, therefore, the inquisition having committed such atrocious actions, must now put up with their expo- sure and shame. One of the ladies thus delivered from captivity was afterwards mar- ried to the French officer who open- ed the door of her dungeon, and re- leased her. She related many sin- gular circumstances respecting the lioly fathers, to her husband, and lo M. Gavin, who afterwards made thera public in his work entitled " the Master-Key to Popery." From the foregoing narrative it will be perceived, that the inquisi- tors, under the exterior garb of sanctity and self-denial, are guilty of the greatest enormities. Lust, pride, avarice, and cruelty, are their predominant passions ; and such is the blindness and bigotry of the de- luded people over whom they ex- tend their despotic sway, that not a voice is raised, not a murmur heard, against the most horrible barbarities, if they be sanctified by the specious pretext of zeal for the Catholic faith, and executed by the familiars of the Holy Office. It might have been expected, that their influence over the minds of the higher orders of society, would have been less powerful ; and that some one would have been found, among the sovereigns of Spain or Portugal, sufficiently en- lightened to see through the im- posture, and courageous enough to assert his own rights and those of his subjects against the hypocritical tyrants who trampled on both. But such is the benumbing effect of this horrible tribunal, so powerful has it become by the weakness and folly of the people, that the only prince who dared to threaten its existence, was put to death by the machinations of the inquisitors, be- fore his accession to the throne gave him an opportunity of execut- ing his noble purpose. This unfor- tunate prince was Don Carlos, son of Philip the Second, and grandson of Charles the Fifth. Don Carlos possessed all the good qualities of his grandfather, without any of the bad ones of his father. He had sense enough to see into the errors of popery, and abhorred the very name of the in- quisition. He inveighed publicly against it, ridiculed the affected piety of the inquisitors, and declar- ed, that if he ever came to the crown, he would abolish the inqui- sition, and exterminate its agents. This irritated and alarmed the in- quisitors ; and they, accordingly, determined on his destruction. They 138 BOOK OF MARTYRS. therefore employed all their emis- saries to spread the most artful in- sinuations against the prince; and, at length, raised such a spirit of discontent among the people, that the king was under the necessity of removing Don Carlos from court. They even pursued his friends, and obliged the king to ba- nish Don John, duke of Austria, his brother, together with his own ne- phew, the prince of Parma, be- cause both these illustrious persons had a most sincere attachment to their kinsman, Don Carlos. Shortly after, the prince having shewn great lenity and favour to the protestants in the Netherlands, the inquisitors gladly seized the opportunity of declaring, that as the persons in question were here- tics, the prince himself must be one, since he gave them counte- nance. Thus they gained so great an ascendancy over the mind of the king, who was an absolute slave to superstition, that he sa- crificed the feelings of nature to the force of bigotry, and from fear of incurring the auger of the inquisi- tion, passed sentence of death on his only son. The prince had what was termed an indulgence ; that is, he was per- mitted to choose the manner of his death. He chose bleeding, and the hot-bath ; when the veins of his arms and legs being opened, he expired gradually, falling a martyr to the malice of the inqui- sitors, and the besotted bigotry of his father. SECTION V. FURTHER ACCOUNTS OF THE PERSECUTIONS OF PROTESTANTS IN FOREIGN COUNTRIES. DR. ^-GIDIO. Dr. Mowio was educated at the university of Alcala, and applied himself to the study of the sacred scriptures. The professor of theo- logy dying, he was elected in his place, and gave great satisfaction to every impartial person by his learning and piety. His enemies, however, laid a complaint against him to the inquisitors, who sent him a citation, and when he ap- peared to it, cast him into a dun- geon. As the greatest part of those who belonged to the cathedral at Seville, and many persons belonging to the bishopric of Dortois, approved of the doctrines of ^gidio, Avhich they thought persectly consonant with true religion, they petitioned the emperor in his behalf. Though the monarch had been educated a Roman catholic, he was not a bigot; and therefore sent an im- mediate order for his liberation. Soon after, he visited the church of Valladolid, did every thing he could to promote the cause of re- ligion, and returning home he fell sick, and died in an extreme old age. I The inquisitors having been dis- appointed of gratifying their malice against him while living, deter- mined (as the emperor's whole thoughts were engrossed by a military expedition) to wreak their vengeance on him when dead. They therefore, soon after he was buried, ordered his remains to be dug up ; and a legal process being carried on, they were condemned to be burnt, which was accordingly executed. DR. CONSTANTINE. This gentleman, an intimate ac- quaintance of Dr. ^gidio, was a man of uncommon natural abilities and profound learning. His elo- quence, and the soundness of his doctrines rendered him a highly pleasing and popular preacher. AVhen fully confirmed in pro- testantism by Dr. ^gidio, he preached boldly such doctrines only as were agreeable to gospel purity, and uncontaminated by the errors of the Romish church. This cre- ated him many enemies among the Roman catholics, who determined on his utter ruin. One Scobarte, a vvorthy gentleman, having erected NICHOLAS BURTON. J 39 a school for divinity lectures, ap- pointed Dr. Constantiiie to be reader therein. He immediately undertook the task, and read lec- tures, by portions, on the Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Canticles ; but while beginning to expound the book of Job, the inquisitors seized him. When brought to examina- tion, he answered with such pre- caution that they could not find any explicit charge against him, but remained doubtful in what manner to proceed, when the following circumstance occurred. The doctor had deposited with a woman, named Martin, several books, which to him were very valuable, but which he knew were exceptionable in the eyes of the in- quisition. This woman was appre- hended, and, after a short process, her goods were ordered to be con- fiscated. Previous, however, to the oflBcers coming to her house, her son had removed several chests full of the most valuable articles, and among these were the books of Dr. Constantine ; but a treacherous servant having given intelligence of this to the inquisitors, an officer was dispatched to the son to de- mand the chests. The son, sup- posing the officer only came for Constantine's books, said, " I know what you come for, and I will fetch them to you immedi- ately." He then fetched the books and papers, and delivered them to the officer, who was greatly sur- prised to find what he did not look for. The inquisitors, thus possessed of Constantine's books and writ- ings, were soon enabled to form charges against him. When he was brought up for re-examina- tion, they presented one of his papers, and asked him if he knew the hand writing. -Perceiving it to be his own, he confessed the writing, and justified the doctrine it contained, saying, " In that and all my other writings, I have never departed from the truth of the gospel, but have always kept in view the pare precepts of Christ as be delivered them to mankind." Having been detained upwards of two years in prison, he was at last seized with a bloody-fiux, which put an end to his miseries. The process, however, was carried on against his body, which was burnt at the ensuing Auto da Fe. MARTYRDOM OF NICHOLAS BURTON. Mr. Burton was a merchant of London, who traded into Spain. Being at Cadiz, a familiar of the inquisition called upon him one day at his lodgings, pretending that he wanted to send a quantity of merchandise to London. Hav- ing asked many questions he de- parted, and the next day one of the inquisitorial officers took Mr. Burton into custody. The presi- dent, on his examination, demand- ed if he had said or insinuated any thing disrespectful to the Ro- man catholic persuasion. Mr. Burton replied in the negative, saying, that he was sensible, in whatever country we were, respect ought to be paid to its established religion. This defence, however, availed him nothing : they pro- ceeded to torture him, in the most cruel manner, in order to gain in- formation. Failing in this, they condemned him for invincible obstinacy, and at the next Auto da Fe he was burnt. When the flames first touched him, he bore tlie torments with such ex- emplary patience, and appeared with so smiling a countenance, that one of the priests, enraged at his serenity, said, with great malice and absurdity, "The reason why he does not seem to feel, is to me very evident ; the devil has already got his soul, and his body is of course deprived of the usual sen- sations." Several other Englishmen in Spain were, about the time of Mr. Burton's martyrdom, put to death by the inquisition ; particularly John Baker, William Burgate, and William Burgess, were burnt, and AVilliam Hooker was stoned to death. 140 BOOK OF MARTYRS. WILLIAM GARDENER. William Gardener was born at Bristol, received a good education, and was, at a proper age, placed under the care of an eminent mer- chant. When twenty-six years of age, he was sent to Lisbon as factor. Here he applied himself to the study of the Portuguese lan- guage, conversed privately with a few, whom he knew to be zealous protestants ; and, at the same time, cautiously avoided giving the least offence to the Roman catholics ; but hitherto he had not gone into any of their churches. A marriage being concluded be- tween the king of Portugal's son and the infanta of Spain, upon the wedding-day the bridegroom,bride, and the whole court, went to the cathedral attended by multitudes of all ranks of people, and among the rest William Gardener, who stayed during the whole ceremony, and was greatly shocked at the su- perstitions he beheld. He, there- fore, formed the noble, though in- considerate design of effecting a reform in Portugal, or perishing in the attempt ; and determined to sacrifice his prudence to his zeal, even though it should cost him his life. For this purpose he settled all his worldly affairs, paid his debts, closed his books, and consigned over his merchandise. On the ensuing Sunday he went again to the cathedral, and placed himself near the altar with a New Testament in his hand. In a short time the king and his court ap- peared, and a cardinal began mass: at that part of the ceremony in which the people adore the wafer, Gardener, springing towards the cardinal, snatched the host from him, and trampled it under his feet. The whole congregation were thunderstruck, and one person, drawing a dagger, wounded Gar- dener in the shoulder, and would, by repeating the blow, have killed him, had not the king ordered him to forbear. Thinking that he had been stimulated by some other person to act as he had done, the king demanded who was hi« abettor, to which he replied, *' My own conscience alone. I would not hazard what I have done for any man living ; but I owe that and all other services to my Creator." Hereupon he was sent to prison, and an order was issued to appre- hend all Englishmen in Lisbon. This order was immediately put in execution (very few escaping), and many innocent persons were tortured to make them confess if they knew any thing of the mat- ter ; in particular, a person who resided in the same house with Gardener was treated with unpa- ralleled barbarity, to make him confess something which might throw a light upon the business. Then Gardener himself was tor- mented in the most excruciating manner : but in the midst of all his torments he gloried in the deed. Being condemned to death, a large fire was kindled near a gib- bet ; Gardener was drawn up to the gibbet by pulleys, and then let down near the fire, but not so close as to touch it; for they burnt or rather roasted him by slow de- grees. Some of the sparks were blown from the fire which con- sumed Gardener, towards the ha- ven, burnt one of the king's ships of war, and did other considerable damage. The Englishmen who were taken up on this occasion were, soon after Gardener's death, all discharged, except the person that resided in the same house with him, who was detained two years before he could procure his freedom. WILLIAM HTHGOW. William Lithgow was descended from a good family, and having a natural propensity to travelling, he rambled, when very young, over the Northern and Western Islands; after which he visited France, Germany, Switzerland, and Spain. He set out on his travels in March, 1609, and went to Paris, where he stayed for some time. He then WILLIAM LITHGOW. 141 pl'osecuted his travels through Germany and other parts, and at length arrived at Malaga in Spain. While he resided here, he con- tracted with the master of a French ship for his passage to Alexandria, but was prevented from going by the following cir- cumstances : in the evening of the I7th of October, 1620, the English fleet, at that time on a cruise against the Algerine rovers, came to anchor before Malaga, which threw the people of the town into the greatest consternation, as they imagined them to be Turks, The morning, however, discovered the mistake ; and the governor of Ma- laga perceiving that they bore the English flag, went on board the admiral's ship, and, on his return, banished the fears of the people. Many persons from on board the fleet came ashore the next day. Among these were several friends of Mr. Lithgow, who invited him on board, which invitation he ac- cepted, and was kindly received by the admiral. The fleet sailing for Algiers the next day, he re- turned on shore, and proceeded towards his lodgings by a private way (being to embark the same night for Alexandria), when, in passing through a narrow uninha- bited street, he found himself sud- denly surrounded by nine ser- geants, or officers, who threw a black cloak over him, and forcibly conducted him to the governor's house. After some little time the governor appeared, when Mr. Lithgow earnestly begged he might be informed of the cause of such violent treatment. The go- vernor only shook his head, and gave orders that the prisoner should be strictly watched till he returned from his devotions : di- recting, at the same time, that the captain of the town, the alcaid ma- jor, and town notary, should be summoned to appear at his exami- nation, and that all this should be done with the greatest secrecy, to prevent its reaching the ears of the English merchants who resided in the town. 2 These orders were strictly ful- filled ; and on the governor's re- turn, Mr. Lithgow was brought be- fore him for examination. The governor began by asking several questions, as to what country he was a native of, whither he was going, how long he had been in Spain, &c. The prisoner, after answering these questions, was conducted to a closet, where he was again examined by the town- captain, who inquired whether he had lately come from Seville : and, pretending great friendship, con- jured him to tell the truth ; finding himself, however, unable to extort any thing from Mr. Lithgow, he left him. The governor then proceeded to inquire the quality of the English commander, and the prisoner's opinion of the motives that pre- vented his accepting an invitation from him to come on shore. He demanded, likewise, the names of the English captains in the squad- ron, and what knowledge he had of the embarkation, or preparation for it before its departure from England. His answers were set down in writing by the notary ; but the junto, particularly the go- vernor, seemed surprised at his denying any knowledge of the fit- ting out of the fleet, and declared that he was a traitor and a spy, and came directly from England to favour and assist in the designs of that country against Spain ; and that he had been for that purpose nine months in Seville, in order to procure intelligence of the time the Spanish navy was expected from the Indies. They exclaimed against his familiarity with the offi- cers of the fleet, and many other English gentlemen, between whom, they said, unusual civilities had passed, but all these transactions had been noticed with peculiar at- tention. In short, they said, he came from a council of war held that morning on board the ad- miral's ship, in order to put in ex- ecution the orders assigned him. Tliey upbraided him with being accessary to the burning of the 142 BOOK OF MARTYRS. island of St. Thomas, in the West Indies; "wherefore," said they, " these Lutherans, and sons of the devil, oug;ht to have no cre- dit given to what they say or swear." Mr. Lithgow in vain endea- voured to obviate every accusa- tion laid against him, and, in order to prove his innocence, begged that his papers might be examined ; this request was complied with ; but although they consisted of passports and letters of recom- mendation from persons of quality, the prejudiced judges refused all belief to them, and their suspi- cions appeared to be connrmed rather than weakened by the peru- sal. A consultation was then held as to where the prisoner should be confined. The alcaid, or chief judge, was for putting him in the town prison ; but this was objected to particularly by the corregidore, who said, " In order to prevent the knowledge of his confinement from reaching his countrymen, I will take the matter on myself, and be answerable for the conse- quences ;" upon which it Avas agreed that he should be confined in the governor's house, and the greatest secrecy observed. He was then stripped, searched, and robbed of a large sum which he had about him, by a sergeant, and confined in an apartment of the governor's house. At mid- night the sergeant and two Turk- ish slaves released him from his confinement, but it was to intro- duce him to one much more hor- rible. They conducted him through several passages to a chamber in a remote part of the palace, towards the garden, where they loaded him with irons, and extended his legs by means of an iron bar above a yard long, the weight of which was so great that he could neither stand nor sit, but was obliged to lie continually on his back. They left him in this condition for some time, when they returned, bringing him a pound of broiled mutton and a loaf, with a small quantity of wine ; after delivering which, they again left him. He received a visit from the go- vernor the next day, who promised him his liberty, with many other advantages, if he would confess being a spy ; but on his protesting that he was entirely innocent, the governor left him in a rage, saying, he should see him no more till further torments constrained him to confess ; commanding the keep- er, to whose care he was com- mitted, not to allow his sustenance to exceed three ounces of musty bread, and a pint of water every second day ; and that he should be allowed neither bed, pillow, nor coverlet. " Close up," said he, " this window in his room with lime and stone ; stop up the holes of the door with double mats ; let him have nothing that bears any likeness to comfort." The unfor- tunate Lithgow continued in this melancholy state, without seeing any person, for several days, in which time the governor received an ans\\er to a letter he had writ- ten, relative to the prisoner, from Madrid ; and, pursuant to the in- structions given him, began to put in practice the cruelties de- vised, which they hastened, be- cause Christmas approached, it being tlien the 47th day since his confinement. About three o'clock in the morn- ing, he heard the noise of a coach in the street, and some time after heard the opening of the prison doors, not having had any sleep for two nights. Immediately after the prison doors were opened, the nine sergeants, who had first seized him, with the notary, entered the place where he lay, and without uttering a Avord conducted him in his irons into the street, where a coach waited, in which they laid him at the bottom on his back, being unable to sit. Two of the sergeants rode with him, and the rest Avalked by the coach side, but all observed the most profound silence. They drove him to a vine- press house, about a league from ' the town, to which place a rack had WILLIAM LITHGOW. 143 been privately conveyed before ; and here they shut him up for that night. About day-break the next morn- ing the governor and the alcaid arrived, into whose presence Mr. Lithgow was immediately brought, to undergo another examination. The prisoner desired he might have an interpreter, but was refused ; nor would they permit him to ap- peal to the superior court of judi- cature at Madrid. After a long ex- amination, which lasted the whole day, there appeared inallhisanswers so exact a conformity with what he had before said, that they de- clared he had learned them by heart. They, however, pressed him again to make a full discovery ; that is, to accuse himself of crimes never committed ; the governor adding, " You are still in' my power; 1 can set you free if you comply: if not, I must deliver you to the alcaid." Mr. Litbgow still persisting in his innocence, the go- vernor ordered him to be tortured immediately. He %vas then conducted to the end of a stone gallery, where the rack was placed. The executioner immediately struck off his irons, which put him to very great pain, the bolts being so closely riveted, that the sledge hammer tore away about half an inch of his heel in forcing off the bolt ; the anguish of which, together with his weak con- dition (not having had the least sus- tenance for three days) occasioned him to groan bitterly ; upon which the merciless alcaid said, " Villain ! traitor ! this is but the beginning of what you shall endure." As soon as his irons were off, he fell on his knees, uttering a short prayer, that God would be pleased to enable him to be steadfast, and undergo courageously the trial he had to encounter ; he was then stripped naked and fixed upon the rack. It is impossible to describe the various tortures inflicted upon him. He lay on the rack for above five hours, during which time he re- ceived above sixty different tor- tures of the most infernal nature ; and had they continued them longer, he must have expired. On being taken from the rack, and his irons again put on, he was conducted to his former dungeon, having received no other nourish- ment than a little warm wine, which was given him rather to reserve him for future punishments, than from any principle of pity. In this horrid situation he con- tinued, almost starved, till Christ- mas-day, when he received some relief from Marianne, waiting- woman to the governor's lady. This woman having obtained leave to visit him, carried with her some refreshments, consisting of honey, sugar, raisins, and other articles. Mr. Lithgow was kept in this loathsome dungeon till he was al- most devoured with vermin. They crawled about his beard, lips, eye- brows, &c. so that he could scarce open his eyes ; and his mortifica* tion was increased by not having the use of his hands or legs to de- fend himself. Mr. Lithgow at length received information which gave him little hopes of ever being released. Tlie substance of this information was, that an English seminary priest, and a Scotch cooper, had been for some time employed by the go- vernor to translate from the Eng- lish into the Spanish language, all his books and observations ; and that it was commonly said in the governor's house, that he was an arch and dangerous heretic. About two days after he had received the above information, the governor, an inquisitor, and a canonical priest, accompanied by tw o Jesuits, entered his dungeon, and, after several idle questions, the inquisi- tor asked Mr. Lithgow if he was a Roman catholic, and acknowledged the pope's supremacy ? He an- swered, that he neither was the one, nor did the other. In the bitterness of his soul he made use of some warm expressions. " As you have almost murdered me," 144 BOOK OF MARTYRS. said he, " for pretended treason, so now you intend to make a mar- tyr of me for my religion." After some time, the inquisitor addressed Mr. Lithgow in the fol- lowing words ; " You have been taken up as a spy, accused of trea- chery, and tortured, as we acknow- ledge, innocently ; (which appears by the account lately received from Madrid of the intentions of the English) yet it was the divine power that brought those judg- ments upon you, for presumptu- ously treating the blessed miracle of Loretto wltn ridicule, and ex- pressing yourself in your writings irreverently of his holiness, Christ's vicar upon earth ; therefore you arc justly fallen into our hands by their special appointment: your books and papers are miraculously trans- lated by the assistance of Provi- dence influencing your own coun- trymen." When this harangue was ended, they gave the prisoner eight days to consider and resolve whether he would become a convert to their re- ligion ; during which time the in- quisitor told him, he, with other religious persons, would attend, to give him assistance. One of the Jesuits said, first making the sign of the cross upon his breast, " My son, behold, you deserve to be burnt alive ; but by the grace of our Lady of Loretto, whom you have blasphemed, we will save both your soul and body." The inquisitor, with the three ec- clesiastics, returned the next morn- ing, when the former asked the prisoner what difficulties he had on his conscience, that retarded his conversion ; to which he answered, " He had not any doubts in his mind, being confident in the pro- mises of Christ, and assuredly be- lieving his revealed will signified in the gospels, as professed in the reformed church, being confirmed by grace, and having infallible as- surance tSiereby of llie true Ciiris- tian faith." To these words the inquisitor replied, " Thou art no Christian, but an absurd iicrelic, and without conversion, a membe stamp as himself. They agreed before they published the letters to mu^Jer all the Hugonots who were in prison ; and to make it appear, that this act was sanctioned by autho- rity, they requested the assistance of the city executioner, whose name was Charles. The man, however, more just and humane than they, perempto- rily refused to have any hand in an act of so great cruelty ; answering, that it was contrary to his office to execute any man before sentence of death had first been pronounced by the magistrates ; and that he would not presume, without a war- rant, to deprive any man of his life ; with these words, he left them. Upon this, the bailiff sent for one of the gaolers of the prison, but he being confined by sickness, Martin de Bures was sent to know his pleasure. The bailiff told him what Belin had signified to him in pri- vate ; as also, that on a sudden all the prisoners of the reformed reli- gion must die, that the place might be purged of them ; " and this," said he, " you must do." De Bures, however, made no haste to execute the command, ac- quainting no man with aught that passed between the bailiff and him ; not even Perennet the keeper, then sick in bed. The day following the bailiff came to the prison, and calling for Perennet, who was then recovered, asked him with a smile, " Whether it was done?" "What?" said Pe- rennet, knowing nothing of it. " Why," said the baililf, " are not the prisoners dispatched ?" and was ready with his dagger to have stabbed him. But coming a little to himself, he told Perennet his purpose, and how he was to behave himself concerning the execution thereof. At this, Perennet stand- ing amazed, (though otherwise for- ward enough to commit any outra- ges against the protestants) certified to the bailiff, that he wou'Id not per- petrate such an inhuman act, ap- prehending, that it might be aveng- ed by the friends of the prisoners. " No, no," said the bailiff, " fear not, I will stand between you and all harms. Others of the justices have consented thereunto besides myself, and would you have better security than that ?" In a short time after, the gaoler coming into the court of the prison, where the prisoners were walking, ordered each to his cabin, " be- cause, (said he) the bailiff is com- ing to see whether the keepers have done their duty." Then began these poor sheep to fear they were des- tined to the slaughter, and there- fore went presently to prayers. Perennet now called his compa- nions about him, reported to them what the bailiff had given him in charge, on which they all took an oath to execute the same ; but ap- proaching near to the prisoners, their hearts failed them, and they stood gazing one upon another, having no courage to act such a deed : they, therefore, returned to the lodge, without doing any thing. This repugnance, however, was of short duration ; for instead of considering it as a warning from above, they sent for sixteen pints of wine, thereby to drown every spark of conscience. Having drank which, they drew a list of the prisoners ; which they delivered to one who was to call them forth in order. The first that came forth was MeurS; who was no sooner in their 160 BOOK OF MARTYRS. sight, than one of them thrust at him with the point of his halberd, redoubling the same often with in- tent to kill him ; on which, the poor man took hold of the point, and pointing it himself to his heart, cried to the murderer, ** Here, soldier, here, right at the heart, right at the heart !" and was instantly slain. When the massacre was ended, the murderers made a great pit on the back side of the chapel of the prison, wherein they cast the bo- dies, some of them yet breathing. One called Maufere, lying in the midst of them, being observed to raise himself above his fellow mar- tyrs, they poured earth upon him, until they had stifled him. The l)loo ears, found it expedient to declare himself a Roman Catholic, and thus to obtain the suffrages of the majority of his subjects. This apostacy was a severe affliction to the faithful ; but, although he abandoned his religion, and sacri- ficed an heavenly for an earthly crown, he did not, like many apostates, persecute the members of the church which he had quitted. He was, in all other respects, truly worthy of the appellation of Great ; a title so frequently and so unjustly bestowed on men -who sacrifice the lives and happiness of their fellow-creatures at the shrine of their own vanity and cruelty, and deserve rather to be execrated than admired, and regarded as demons than as demi-gods. Upon the restoration of tran- quillity in his dominions, Henry applied himself to the cultivation of the arts of peace, and by en- couraging agriculture, manufac- tures, and trade, laboured suc- cessfully to recover France from the desolation and misery which thirty years of civil war and re- ligious persecution had brought upon her. Nor was he unmindful of his ancient friends the protest- ants. By the Edict of Nantes, issued in 1598, he granted then> a full toleration and protection in the exercise of their religious opi- nions. In consequence of this, the true church of Christ abode in peace during many years, and flourished exceedingly. Henry was at length assassinat- ed, in 1610, by Ravaillac, a Jesuit, filled with that frantic bigotry which the Roman Catholic religion has so peculiar a tendency to in- spire and to cherish. Louis XIII. being a minor at the death of his father, the kingdom was nominally governed by the queen-mother, but really by her minion, cardinal Richelieu a man of great abilities, which were un- happily perverted to the worst purposes. He was cruel, bigoted, tyrannical, rapacious, and sensual ; he trampled on the civil and reli- gious liberties of France ; and he- sitated not to accomplish his in- tentions by the most barbarous and infamous methods. The protestants at length, unable longer to endure the injuries daily heaped upon them, resolved to take arms in defence of their re- ligion and their liberty. But the vigour of the cardinal defeated all their enterprises, and Rocliclle, the last fortress which remained in their possession, was, in 1G28, after a long siege, in which the defenders were reduced to the most horrible extremities of famine and suffering, surrendered to his victorious arms. He immediately caused the walls and fortifications to be destroyed ; and those of the garrison who survived, were either put to death by the infuriated sol- diery, or condemned to the galleys for life. After this unhappy event, al- though the power of the protest- ants was too much broken to per- mit them to assert their rights in the field, and they therefore appear- ed to their enemies as if crushed and extinguished, there yet remain- ed many thousands who " refused to bow the knee to Baal ;" their God upheld them by his gracious promises; they knew that He with- out whose orders " not even a sparrow shall perish," would not allow his faithful servants to fall unregarded ; and they consoled themselves with the reflection, that however they might be despised, contemned, and persecuted on earth, they would in the end ar- rive at those heavenly mansions prepared for them by their Father, where " all tears shall be wiped from all faces ;" and where an eternity of glorious and celestial happiness shall infinitely outweigh the temporary and trivial suflerings of mortality. During the fifty years which suc- ceeded the reduction of Rocbelle 214 BOOK OF MARTYRS. the protestants suffered every in- dio:nity, injustice, and cruelty, which their barbarous persecotors could devise. They were at the mercy of every petty despot, who, " drest in a little brief authority," wished to gratify his malice, or signalize the season of his power, by pimisiiing the heretics, and evincing his attachment to the in- fallible church. The consequences of tliis may easily be imagined ; every petty vexation which can render private life miserable, every species of plunder and extortion, and every wanton exertion of arbi- trary power, were employed to harass and molest the protestants of ail ranks, sexes, and ages. At length, in 1684, the impious and blasphemous tyrant Louis XIV., who, in imitalion of the worst Roman emperors, wished to receive divine honours, and was flattered by his abject courtiers into the belief that he was more than human, determined to estab- lish his claim to the title of le (jrand, which their fulsorue adula- tion had bestowed on him, by the extirpation of the heretics from his dominions. Pretending, how- ever, to wish for their conversion to the true faith, he gave them the alternative of voluntarily becom- ing papists, or heing compelled to it. On their refusal to apostatize, they were drayoimed ; that is. the dragoons, the most ruflianly and barbarous of his Christian majesty's troops, were quartered upon them, with orders to live at discretion. Their ideas of discretion may easily be conceived, and accordingly the unhappy protestants were exposed to every species of suiTering, which lust, avarice, cruelty, bigotry, and brutality, can engender iu the breasts of an ignorant, depraved, and infuriated soldiery, absolved from all restraint, and left to the diabolical promptings of their worst passions, whose flames were fanned by the assurances of the bishops, priests, and friars, that they were fulfilling a sacred duty, by punishing the enemies of God and religion .' An order was issued by the king", for the demolition of the protest- ant churches, and the banishment of the protestant ministers. Many other reformers were also ordered to leave the kingdom in a few days ; and we are told by Monsieur Claude, the celebrated author of " Les Plaintes des Protestuns," who was himself banished at this time, that the most frivolous pretexts were employed to detain those who were about to quit France, so that by remaining in that country be- yond the time allowed by the edict, they might be sent to the galleys as a punishment for infringing an order which they were thus pre- vented from complying with. On the whole, more than five hundred thousand persons escaped or were banished. And these indus- trious citizens, whom the blind bi- gotry of a besotted tyrant had dri- ven from their native land, found shelter and protection, in Eng- land, Germany, and other coun- tries, which they amply repaid by the introduction of many useful arts and processes ; in particular, it is to them that we are indebted for the commencement of the silk manufacture in Great Britain. In the meanwhile, those who either were purposely detained, or were unable to escape, were condemned to the galleys ; and after being imprisoned in the most horrible dungeons, and fed only on bread and water, and that very scantily, were marched off, in large bodies, handculfed, and chained together, from one extremity of the kingdom to another. Their sufferings during this dreadful journey were indescribable. They were exposed to every vicissitude of weather, almost without cover- ing ; and frequently, in the midst of winter, were obliged to pass the nights on the bare earth, faint- ing from hunger and thirst, ago- nized by disease, and writhing from the lash of their merciless conduc- tors. The consequence was, that scarcely half the original number reached their place of destination ; those who did, were immediately PERSECUTIONS IN FRANCE. 215 exposed to new suiferings and ad- ditional calamities. They were put on board the galleys, where they were subjected to the absolute control of the most inhuman and barbarous wretches who ever disgraced the human form. The labour of row- ing, as performed in the galleys, is described as being the most ex- cessive that can be imagined ; and the sutterings of the poor slaves were increased a hundred fold by the scourgings inllicted on them by their savage taskmasters. The recital of their miseries is too hor- rible to be dwelt upon : we shall therefore pass to that period when the Lord, of his iuiinite mercy, gave ear to the cries of his afllicted servants, and graciously raised them up a deliverer in Anne, queen of England, who, filled with com- passion for the unhappy fate of so many of her fellow-proteslants, ordered her ambassador iit the court of France to make a spirited remonstrance in their favour, which Louis, whose affairs were then in a very critical situation, was under the necessity of com- plying with; and he accordingly dispatched orders to all the sea- ports for the immediate release of every galley slave condemned for Lis religion. A¥hcu this order was received at Marseilles, where the majority of the protestants were detained, the priests, and most particularly the Jesuits, were much chagrined at the prospect of thus losing their victims, and determined to use all means in their power to prevent the order from being carried into effect. They prevailed on the in- tendant, a violent and cruel bigot, to delay its execution for eight days, till they could receive an answer to an address which they immediately dispatched to the king, exhorting him to abandon his intention of releasing the heretics, and representing the dreadful judgments which, they asserted, might be expected to fall on him- self and his kingdom, as the pu- nishment of so great a dereliction from his duty as the eldest son of the church. At least, they desired, if his majesty were determined to release the protestants, that he would not allow them to remain in, or even pass through, France ; but would compel them to leave the ports by sea, and never again to enter his dominions, on pain of re-visiting the galleys. Although Louis could not com- ply with the first part of the peti- tion of these truly Papistical bigots, the latter part was too congenial to bis own inclinations, to be rejected. The protestants were ordered to sail from the ports at which they had been confined ; and the difficulty of obtaining ves- sels for their conveyance, which the malignant priests used all their arts to augment, occasioned a long delay, during which the poor pri- soners were suilering all the ago- nies of uncertainty — that *' hope deferred, which maketh the heart sick," — and which led them to fear that something might still intei-vene to prevent their so much desired emancipation. But their heavenly Father, ever mindful of those who suffer for his sake, at length re- moved every obstacle which bi- gotry and malice could interpose, and delivered them from the hand of the oppressor. They went forth rejoicing, praising and bless- ing His holy name, who had wr night for them this great deli- verance. A deputation of those who had been released by the interposition of queen Anne, waited upon her majesty in London, to return their most grateful thanks, on behalf of themselves and their brethren, for her Christian interference in their favour. She received them very graciously, and assured them that she derived more pleasure from the consciousness of having lessen- ed the miseries of her fellow-pro- testants, than from the most bril- liant events of her reign. These exiles also established themselves in England, which by their industry and ingenuity ac- quired new riches every day, while 216 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Fronce, by cxpellinc: them, receiv- ed a blow, from which her commer- rial and tradinj? interests never recovered. Thus, even on earth, did tlie Ahni;;hty punish the bigot- ed and cruel, and reward the pious and beneficent. But how fear- ful shall be the judgement of the persecutors in that ^reat day when every action shall be weighed in the balance of Eternal Justice ! How awful the denunciation — " Depart from me, ye cursed ! I know you not I" Will the plea of rebffums zeal be then allowed ? Will not the true motives of their barbarity be exposed to Him " from whom no secTct is hid ?'' Undoubtedly they will ; and la- mentably ignorant are they of the genuine spirit of Christianity, who imagine that cnjelty and perse- cution form any part of it. Let them look to the conduct of its Divine Founder; to his meek- ness, his charity, liis universal benevolence; let them consider these, and blush to call them- selves his followers ; and trem- ble at the doom which his jus- tice will award to those who have perverted his maxims of mercy and of peace into denunciations of hostility and extirpation. SECTION X. MARTYRDOM OF JOHN CALAS, OF THOULOUSE. By this interesting story, the truth of which is certified in his- torical records, we have ample proofs, if any were requisite, that the abominable spirit of perse- cution will always prevail wher- ever popery has an ascendancy. This shocking act took place in a polished age, and proves, that neither experience, nor improve- ment, can root out the inveterate prejudices of the Roman catholics; or render them less cruel or inex- orable to the protestants. John Calas was a merchant, of the city of Thoulouse, where he had settled, and lived in good re- pute ; and had married an Eng- lishwoman of French extraction. Calas and his wife were both protestants, and had five sons, whom they educated in the same religion ; but Lewis, one of the sons, became a Roman catholic, having been converted by a maid- servant, who had lived in the fa- mily above thirty years. The father, however, did not express any resentment or ill-will upon the occasion, but kept the maid in the family, and settled an annu- ity upon the son. In October 1761, the family consisted of John Calas and his wife, one woman servant, Mark Anthony Calas, the eldest son, and Peter Calas, the second son. Mark Anthony was bred to the law, but could not be admitted to practice, on account of his being a protestant: hence he grew melancholy, read all the books which he could procure re- lative to suicide, and seemed de- termined to destroy himself. To this may be added, that he led a very dissipated life, and was great- ly addicted to gaming. On this account his father frequently repre- hended him, and sometimes in terms of severity, which consi- derably added to the gloom that oppressed him. M. Gober La Vaisse, a young gentleman about nineteen years of age, the son of a celebrated ad- vocate of Thoulouse, having been some time at Bourdeaux, came back to Thoulouse to see his father, on the 13th of October 1761 ; but finding that he was gone to his country-house, at some distance from the city, he went to several places, endeavouring to hire a horse to carry him thither. No horse, however, was to be obtained ; and about iive o'clock in the evening, he was met by John Calas the fa- ther, and the eldest son Mark An- thony, who w as his friend. Calas, the father, invited him to supper, as he could not set out for his father's that night, and La Vaisse consented. All three, therefore, proceeded to Calas's house toge- MARTYRDOM OF GALAS. 217 tlier, and when they came tliltlier, imding that Mrs. Galas was still in her own room, which she had not quitted that da}-, La Vaisse went up to see her. After the first com- pliments, he told her he was to sup with her, by her husband's in- vitation, at which she expressed her satisfaction, and a few minutes after left him, to give some orders to Jier maid. When that was done, slie went to look for her son An- thony, whom she found sitting alone in the shop, very pensive: she gave him some money, and desired him to go and buy some Roquefort cheese, as he was a better judge of the quality of cheese than any other person in the family. She then returned to her guest La Vaisse, who very soon after went again to the livery- stable, to see if any horse was come in, that he might secure it for the next morning. In a short time xVnthony return- ed, having bought tlie cheese, and La Vaisse also coming back about the same time, the family and their guest sat down to supper, the whole company consisting of Galas and his wife, Anthony and Peter Galas the sons, and La Vaisse, no other person being in the house, except the maid-servant, who has been mentioned already. This was about seven o'clock : the sup- per was not long ; but before it was over, Anthony left the table, and went into the kitchen, (which was on the same floor) as he was accustomed to do. The maid asked him if he was cold? He answered, " Quite the contrary, I burn:" and then left her. In the mean time his friend and family left the room they had sup- ped in, and went into a bed-cham- ber ; the father and La Vaisse sat down together on a sofa; the younger sou Peter in an elbow chair ; and the mother in another chair; and without making any inquiry after Anthony, continued in conversation together, till be- tween nine and ten o'clock, when La Vaisse took his leave, and Peter, who had fallen asleep, was awakened to attend him with a light. There was on the ground floor of Galas's house a shop and a ware- house ; the latter of which was di- vided from the shop by a pair of folding-doors. When Peter Galas and La Vaisse came down stairs into the shop, they were extremely shocked to see Anthony hanging in his shirt, from a bar which he had laid across the top of the two folding-doors, having half opened them for that purpose. On dis- covering this horrid spectacle, they shrieked out, which brought down Galas the father, the mother bein<»- seized with such a terror as kept her trembling in the passage above. The unhappy old man rushed for- ward, and taking the body in his arms, the bar, to which the rope was fastened, slipped off from the folding-door of the warehouse, and fell down. Having placed the body on the ground, he loosed and took ofl" the cord in an agony of grief and anguish not to be expres- sed, weeping, trembling, and de- ploring his loss. The two young men, who had not had presence of mind to attempt taking down the body, were standing by, stupid with amazement and horror. In the mean time the mother, hearing the confused cries and complaints of her husband, and finding no one come to her, found means to get down stairs. At the bottom she saw La Vaisse, and hastily demanded what was the matter. This question roused Galas in a mo- ment, and instead of answering her, he urged her to go again up stairs, to which, with much reluctance, she consented ; but the conflict of her mind being such as could not be long borne, she sent down the maid to know what was the matter- When the maid discovered what had happened, she continued be- low, either because she feared to carry an account of it to her mis- tress, or because she busied herself in doing some good oflice to her master, who was still embracing the body of his son, and bathing it in his tears. The mother, there- 218 BOOK OF MARTYRS. fore, being thus left alone, went down, and mixed in the scene that has been already described, with such emotions as it must naturally produce. Tn the mean time Peter had been sent for La Moire, a surg:eon in the neigh- bourhood. La Moire was not at home, but his apprentice, named Grosse, came instantly. Upon ex- amination, he found the body quite dead ; and upon takinsf oil" the neckcloth, which was of black tafl'eta, he saw the niarkof the cord, and immediately pronounced that the deceased had been straQu,led. This particular had not been told, for the poor old man, when Peter was going for La Moire, cried out, " Save at least the honour of my family; do not go and spread a report that your brother has made away with himself," A crowd of people by this time were gathered about the house, and one Casing, with another friend or two of the family, had come in. Some of those who were in the street had heard the cries and exclamations within, but knew not the occasion ; and hav- ing by some means heard that An- thony Galas was suddenly dead, and that the su'gcon, who had ex- amined the body, declared he had been strangled, they took it into their heads he had been murdered ; and as the family were protestants, they presently supposed that the young man was about to change his religion, and had been put to death for that reason. The cries they had heard they fancied were those of the deceased, while he was resisting the violence done to him. The tumult in the street in- creased every moment : some said that Anthony Galas was to have abjured the next day ; others, that protestants are bound by their re- ligion to strangle or cut the throats of their children when they are inclined to become catholics. Others, who had found out that La Vaisse was in the house when the accident happened, very con- fidently affirmed, that the protest- ants, at their last assembly, ap- pointed a person to be their com- mon executioner upon these oc- casions, and that La Vaisse was the man, wlio, in consequence of the office, to which he had been appointed, had come to Calas's house to hang his son. Now the poor father, who was overwhelmed with grief for the loss of his child, was advised by his friends to send for the officers of justice, to prevent his being torn to pieces by the ignorant and bigoted mob. A messenger was aecordinglj' dispatched to the capitoul, or first magistrate of the place ; and another to an inferior officer, called an assessor. The capitoul had already set out, hav- ing been alarmed by the rumour of a murder. He entered Calas's house with forty soldiers, took the father, Peter the son, the mother. La Vaisse, and the maid, all into custody, and set a guard over them. He sent for IM. de la Tour, a phy- sician, and M. la Marque and Per- ronct, surgeons, who examined the body for marks of violence, but found none except the mark of the ligature on the neck : they found also the hair of the deceased done up in the usual manner, perfectly smooth, and without the least dis- order: his clothes -were also regu- larly folded up, and laid upon the counter, nor wa^ his sliirt eitlier unbuttoned or torn. The capitoul, notwithstantling these appearances, thought pro- per to agree with the opinion of the mob, and took it into his head that old Cnlas had sent for La Vaisse, telling him he had a son to be hanged ; that La Vaisse had come to perform the office of ex- ecutioner; and that he had receiv- ed assistance from the fa,ther and brother. On account of these notions the capitoul ordered the body of the deceased to be carried to the town- house, with the clothes. The father and son were thrown into a dark dungeon ; and the mother. La Vaisse, the maid, and Casing, were imprisoned in one that admitted the light. The next day^ what is MARTYRDOM OF GALAS. 210 called the verbal process was taken at the town-house, instead of the spot where the body was found, as the law directs, and was dated at Calas's, house to conceal the ir- regularity. This verbal process is somewhat like the coroner's inquest in England ; witnesses are exa- mined, and the magistrate makes his report, similar to the verdict of a coroner's jury in England. The witnesses examined by the capitoul ■were, the physician and surgeon, who proved Anthony Galas to have been strangled. The surgeon hav- ing been ordered to examine the stomach of the deceased, deposed also, that the food which was found there had been taken four hours before his death. Finding that uo proof of the murder could be pro- cured, the capitoul had recourse to a monitory, or general informa- tion, in which the crime was taken for granted, and all persons were required to give such testimony against it as they were able, par- ticularizing the points to which they were lo speak. This recites, that La Vaisse was commissioned by the protestants to be their ex- ecutioner in ordinary, when any of their children were to be hanged for changing their religion : it recites also, that when the protest- ants thus bang tlieir children, they compel them to kneel, and one of the interrogatories was, whether any person had seen Anthony Galas kneel before bis father when he strangled him : it recites like- wise, tliat Anthony died a Roman Catholic, and requires evidence of his Catholicism. These ridiculous opinions being adopted and published by the prin- cipal magistrate of a considerable city, the church of Geneva thought itself obliged to send an attestation of its abhorrence of opinions so abominable and absurd, and of its astonishment that they should be suspected of such opinions by per- sons whose rank and office required them to have more knowledge and better judgment. However, before this monitory was published, the mob had got a notion, that Anthony Galas Vas the next day to have entered into the fraternity of the White Penitents. The capitoul immediately adopted this opinion also, without the least examination, and ordered An- thony's body to be buried in the middle of St. Stephen's church, which was accordingly done; forty priests, and all the white peni- tents, assisting in the funeral pro- cession. A short time after the interment of the deceased, the white peni- tents performed a solemn service for liim in their chapel: the church was liung with white, and a tomb was raised in the middle of it, on the top of which was placed a hu- man skeleton, holding in one hand a paper, on which was written, " Abjuration of heresy," and in the other a palui, the emblem of mai-- tyrdom. The Franciscans performed a service of the same kind for him the next day; and it is easy to imagine how jnuch the minds of the people were inflamed by this strange folly of their magistrates and priests. Still the capitoul continued the prosecution with unrelenting seve- rity ; and though the grief and dis- traction of the family, when he first came to the house, were alone suf- ficient to have convinced any rea- sonable being that they were not the authors of the event which they deplored, yet having publicly at- tested that they were guilty, in his monitory, without proof, and no proof coming in, he thought fit to condemn the unhappy father, mo- ther, brother, friend, and ser*ant, to the torture, and put them all into irons, on the ISth of Novem- ber. Gasing was released, upon proof that he was not in Galas's house till after Anthon}' was dead. From these dreadful proceedings the sufferers appealed to, the par- liament, which immediately took cognisance of the affair, and an- nulled the sentence of the capitoul as irregular; but the prosecution still continued. As soon as the trial came on, the 3 220 BOOK OF MARTYRS. hangman, who had been taken to Calas's house, and shewn the fold- iug-doors and the bar, deposed, that it was impossible Anthony should bang himself as was pre- tended. Another witness swore, that he looked through the key- hole of Calas's door into a room, where he saw men running hastily to and fro. A third swore, that his wife had told him, a woman named Maundrill had told her, that a cer- tain woman unknown bad declared, she beard the cries of Anthony Calas at the further end of the city. From this absurd evidence the majority of the parliament were of opinion, that the prisoners were guilty, and therefwe ordered them to be tried by the criminal court of Tboulouse. There was among those who ; presided at the trial one La JBorde, who bad zealously espous- ed the popular prejudices; and though it was manifest to demon- stration that the prisoners were either all innocent or all guilty, he voted that the father should first suffer the torture, ordinary and ex- traordinary, to discover his accom- plices, and be then broken alive upon the wheel; to receive the last stroke when he had lain two hours, and then to be burnt to ashes. In this opinion he bad the concurrence of six others; three were for the torture alone ; two were of opinion that they should endeavour to as- certain on the spot whether An- thony could hang himself or not; and one voted to acquit the pri- soner. After long debates the ma- jority was for the torture and wheel,, and probably condemned the father by way of experiment, whether he was guilty or not, hop- ing he would, in the agony, confess the crime, and accuse the other prisoners, whose fate, therefore, they suspended. It is, however, certain, that if they bad evidence against the father that would have justified the sentence they pro- nounced against him, that very evidence would have justified the same sentence against the rest ; and that they could not justly con- demn him alone, they being all in the house together when Anthony died. However, poor Calas, who was 68 years of age, was condemned to this dreadful punishment. He suffered the torture with great con- stancy, and was led to execution in a frame of mind which excited respect and admiration. Father Bourges and father Col- dagues, the two Dominicans, who attended him in his last moments, wished their latter end might be like his, and declared, that they thought him not only wholly inno- cent of the crime laid to his charge, but an exemplary instance of true Christian patience, charity, and fortitude. He gave but one shriek, when he received the first stroke ; after which he uttered no complaint. Being at length placed on the wheel, to wait for the moment which was to end bis life and his misery together, he declared him- self full of an humble hope of a glorious immortality, and a com- passionate regard for the judges who had condemned him. When be saw the executioner prepared to give him the last stroke, he made a fresh declaration of his in- nocence to father Bourges; but while the words were yet in his mouth, the capitoul, the author of this catastrophe, and who came upon the scaffold merely to gratify his desire of being a witness of his punishment and death, ran up to him, and bawled out, " Wretch, there are the faggots which are to reduce your body to ashes; speak the truth." M. Calas made no re- ply, but turned his head a little aside, and tliat moment the execu- tioner did his office. Donat Calas, a boy of fifteen years of age, the youngest son of the unfortunate victim, was ap- prentice to a merchant at Nismes, when he heard of the dreadful pu- nishment by which seven preju- diced judges of Tboulouse had put his worthy father to death. So violent was the popular out- PAPAL USURPATIONS. 221 ery against this family in Langue- doc, that every body expected to see the children of Galas broke upon the wheel, and the mother burnt alive. So weak had been the defence made by this innocent family, oppressed by misfortunes, and terrified at the sight of lighted piles, racks, and wheels. Young Donat Galas dreading to share the fate of the rest of his family, was advised to fly into Switzerland. He did so, and there found a gen- tleman, who, at fust, could only pity and relieve him, without dar- ing to judge of the rigour exercised against his father, mother, and brothers. Shortly after, one of the brothers, who was only ba- nished, likewise threw himself into the arms of the same person, who, for more than a mouth, took all possible means to be assured of the innocence of this family. But when he was once couvinced, he thought himself obliged, in con- science, to employ his friends, his purse, his pen, and his credit, to repair the fatal mistake of the se- ven judges of ThouJouse, and to have the proceedings revised by the king's counsel. This revision lasted three years, and at the end of that time, fifty masters of the Court of Requests unanimously declared the whole family of Galas innocent, and recommended them to the benevolent justice of his ma- jesty. The duke de Ghoiseul, who never let slip an opportunity of signalizing the greatness of his character, not only assisted this unfortunate family with money from his own purse, but obtained, for them a gratuity of 3G,000 livres from the king. The arret which justified the fa- mily of Galas, and changed their fate, was signed on the 9th of March, 17G5. The 9th of March, 17G2, was the very day on which the innocent and virtuous father of that family had been executed. AH Paris ran in crowds to see them come out of prison, and clapped their hands for joy, while the tears streamed down their cheeks. BOOK VIII. CONTAINING A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION, AND THE RE- MARKABLE CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH PRECEDED IT, FROM THE TIME OF WICKLIFFE TO THE REION OF QUEEN MARY. SECTION I. PARTICULARS RELATIVE TO THE G THROUGHOUT CHRISTENDO In the Introduction will be found an account of the rise and progress of popery, from the commencement of its usurpations to the tenth cen- tury. From this period, till the reformation was attempted by Wicklitle, the abominations of these arch and unchristian heretics increased with rapid strides, till at length all the sovereigns of Europe were compelled to do them the most servile homage. It was in the reign of Edgar, king of Eng- REAT ASCENDANCY OF THE POPES M, IN THE MIDDLE AGES. land, that monks were first made spiritual ministers, though con- trary to the decrees and custom of the church; and in the time of this sovereign they were allowed to marry, there being no law forbid- ding it, before the papacy of Gre- gory VII. To relate the tyrannical innova- tions upon the religion of Christ during the space of more than three hundred years, would be the province of a writer ou church 222 BOOK OF MARTYRS. history, and is qnite incompatible ■with our limits. Suffice it to say, that scarcely a foreign war or civil broil convulsed Europe during that period, which did not originate in the infernal artifices of popes, monks, and friars. They fre- quently fell victims to their own machinations; for, from the year 1004, many popes died violen-t deaths: several were poisoned; Sylvester was cut to pieces by his own people ; and the reigns of bis successors were but short. Bene- dict, who succeeded John XXI. thought proper to resist the em- peror Henry III. and place in his room Peter, king of Hungary ; but afterwards being alarmed by the success of Henry, he sold his seat to Gratianus, called Gregory VI. At this time there were three popes in Rome, all striving against each other for the supreme power, viz. Benedict IX. Silvester III. and Gregory VI. But the empe- ror, Henry, coming to Rome, dis- placed these three monsters at once, and appointed Clement the Second, enacting that henceforth no bishop of Ko)ne should be chosen but by the consent of the emperor. Though this law was necessary for public tranquillity, yet it interiered too niuch with the ambitious views of the cardinals, ■\*ho accordingly e,\ertcd them- selves to get it repealed ; and fail- ing in this, on the departure of the emperor for Germany, they poi- soned Clement, and ?,t once vio- lated the law by choosing another pope, without the imperial sanc- tion. This w as Damasus II. who being also poisoned, within a few days from his appointment, much con- tention took place. Whereupon the Romans sent to the em- peror, desiring Iiim to give them a bishop ; upon which he selected Bruno, a German, called Leo IX. This pope was also poisoned, in the first year of his popedom. After his death Theophylactus made an eflort to be pope, but Hildebrand, to defeat him, went to the emperor, and persuaded him to assign another bishop, a German, who ascended the papal chair under the title of Victor II. The second year of his papacy, this pope also followed his prede- cessors, like them being poisoned. On the death of Victor, the car- dinals elected Stephen IX. for pope, contrary to their oath, and the emperor's assignment. From this period, indeed, their ascend- ancy was so great, that the most powerful sovereigns of Europe were obliged to do them homage ; and Nicholas, who succeeded Ste- phen, established the Council of the Lateran. In this council first was promul- gated the terrible sentence of ex- communication against all such as " do creep into the seat of Peter by money or favour, without the full consent of the cardinals;" cursing them and their children with the anger of Almighty God ; and giv- ing authoiity and power to cardi- nals, with the clergy and laity, to depose all such persons, and call a couBciJ-general, wheresoever they will, against them. Pope Nicholas only reigned three years and a half, and then, like his predecessors, was poi- soned. SUBMISSION OF THE EMPEROR HENRY IV. TO THE POPE. To such a height had papal in- solence now attained, that, on the emperor Henry IV. refusing to submit to some decrees of pope Gregoiy VII. the latter excommu- nicated him, and absolved all his subjects from their oath of allegi- ance to him: on this he was de- serted by his nobility, and dreading the consequences, though a brave man, he found it necessary to make his submission. He accordingly repaired to the city of Cauusium, w here the pope then w as, and w cnt barefooted with his wife and child to the gate ; where he remained from morning to night, fasting, hum- bly desiring absolution, and craving to be let in. But no ingress being given him, he continued thus three days together; at length, answer PAPAL USURPATIONS. 223 came, that his holiness had yet no leisure to talk with liiin. The em- peror patiently waited without the walls, altl)ou;j,h in the depth of winter. At leuj!;th his request was granted, through the entreaties of Matilda, the pope's paramour. On the fourth day, being: let in, for a token of his true repentance, he yielded to the pope's hands his crown, and confessed himself un- worthy of the empire, if he ever again offended against the pope, desiring for that time to he absolv- ed and forgiven. The pope an- swered, he would neither forgive liim, nor release the bond of his excommunication, but upon con- dition, that he would abide by his arbitrement in the council, and undergo such penance as he should enjoin him; that he should answer to all objections and accusations laid against him, and lliat be should never seek revenge ; that it should be at (be pope's pleasure, whetlicr his kina;doin should be restored, or not. Finally, that before the trial of his cause, he should neither use his kingly ornaments, nor usurp the aulljority to govern, nor to exact any oath of allegiance from Lis subjects, &c. These things being jirou.ised to the pope by an oath, the emperor was only releas- ed from excommunication. KING JOHN SURRENDERS HIS CROWN TO THE POPE. The ascendancy of the popes was never more fully evinced ihan by a remarkuble fact in (he history of our own country. King John, having incurred the hatred of bis barons and people by bis cruel and tyrannical measures, tl)ey took arms against him, and ollered the crown to Louis, son of the French king. Bj' seizing tlie possessions of the clergy, John had also fallen under the displeasure of the pope, who accordingly laid the kingdom under an interdict, and absolved his subjects from their allegiance. Alarmed at this, the tyrant ear- nestly sued for peace with his holi- ness, hoping, by his mediation, to obtain favourable tern>s from the barons, or, by his thunders, to terrify them into submission. He made the most abject supplications, and the pope, ever willing to in- crease the power of the church, sent cardinal Pandulf as legate to the king at Canterbury ; to whom John resigned his crown and do- minions ; and the cardinal, after retaining the crown five days, in token of possession, returned it to the king, on condition of his making a yearly payment of 1000 marks to the court of Rome, and holding the doiiiinions of Eng- land and Ireland m farm from the pope. But if John expected any be- nefit from this most disgraceful transaction, he was disappointed; and instead of enjoying the crown which he had so basely surrendered and received again, the short re- mainder of his life was disturbed by continual insurrections, and he at last died either of grief, or by poison administered to him by a monk of the convent of S wines- bead in Lincolnshire. The latter cause is assigned by many histori- ans, and we are told that the king, suspecting some fruit, which was presented to him at the above con- vent, to be poisoned, ordered the monk wiio brought it, to eat of it; which he did, and died in a few hours after. AN EMPEROR TRODDEN ON BY THE POPE, The papal usurpations were ex- tended to every part of Europe. In Germany, the emperor Frederic was conipelledto sul)mii to be trod- den under the feet of pope Alexan- der, and dared not make any resist- ance. In England, how ever, a spirit of resentment broke out in va- rious reigns, in consequence of the oppressions and horrible conduct of those anti-christian blasphemers, which continued with more or less violence till the time of the great Wickliife, of whom we shall speak more fully in the following pages. 224 BOOK OF MARTYRS. SECTION II. ACCOUNT OF WICKLIFFE, AND OF THE MARTYRS WHO SUFFERED IN DE- FENCE OF HIS DOCTRINES. The first attempts made in Eng- land towards the reformation of the church, took place in the reij^n of Edward III. about A. D. 1350, •when John Wicklifle appeared. This early star of the Enojlish church was public reader of divinity in the university of Oxford, and, by the learned of his day, was ac- counted deeply versed in theology, and all kinds of philosophy. This even his adversaries allowed, as Walden, his bitterest enemy, writ- ing to pope Martin, says, that he was wonderfully astonished at his strong arguments, with the places of authority which he had gathered, with the vehemency and force of his reasons, &c. At tlie time of his appearance, the greatest darkness pervaded the church. Scarcely any thing but the name of Christ remained ; his true doctrine being as far unknown to the most part, as his name was common to all. As to faith, consolation, the end and use of the law, the office of Christ, our impotency and weak- ness, the greatness and strength of sin, of true works, grace, and free justification by faith, wherein Chris- tianity consists, they were either unknown or disregarded. Scrip- ture learning, and divinity, were known but to a few, and that in the schools onl}', where they were turned and converted into sophistry. Instead of Peter and Paul, men occupied their time in studying Aquinas and Scolus ; and, forsak- ing the lively power of God's spiri- tual word and doctrine, were alto- gether led and blinded with out- ward ceremonies and human tradi- tions, insomuch that scarcely any other thing was seen in the churches, taught or spoken of in sermons, or intended or sought af- ter in their whole lives, but the heaping up of ceremonies upon ce- remonies; and the people were taught to worship no other thing but that which they saw, and al- most all they saw they worshipped. But Wicklilfc was inspired with a purer sense of religion; and know- ing it to be his duty to impart the gracious blessing to others, he pub- lished his belief with regard to the several articles of religion, in which he difi'ered from the common doctrine. Pope Gregory XI. hear- ing this, condemned some of his tenets, and commanded the archbi- shop of Canterbury, and the bishop of London, to oblige him to sub- scribe the condemnation of them ; and, in case of refusal, to summon him to Rome. This commission could not easily be executed, Wicklifle liaving powerful friends, the chief of whom was .John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, son of Edward III. The archbishop hold- ing a synod at St. Paul's, Wick- lili'e appeared, accompanied by the duke of Lancaster and lord Percy, marshal of England, when a dis- pute arising whether Wicklifle should answer sitting or standing, the duke of Lancaster proceeded to threats, and treated the bishop with very little ceremony. The people present thinking the bishop in danger, sided with him, so that the duke and the earl marshal thought it prudent to retire, and to take Wicklifle with them. After this an insurrection ensued, the clergy and their emissaries spread- ing a report that the duke of Lan- caster had persuaded the king to take away the privileges of the city of London, &c. which fired the peo- ple to such a degree that they broke open the Marshalsea, and freed all the prisoners : and not contented with this, a vast number of them went to the duke's palace in the Savoy, when missing his person, they plundered his house. For this outrage the duke of Lancaster caused the lord mayor and alder- men to be removed from their of- fices, imagining that they had not used their authority to tjuell the SCHI&M IN THE CHURCH OF ROME. 225 mutineers. After this, tlie bishops meeting- a second time, Wickiiilo explained to them his sentiments M'ith regard to the sacrament of the eucharist, in opposition to the belief of the papists ; for whieh the bisliops only enjoined him silence, not daring-, at tliat time to proceed to greater extremities against him. Discovery o/' &uy Fawkes in the VaulU of the House nf Lords. GKEAT SCHISPJ IN THE CHURCH Ol' ROME. A circumstance occurred at this period, by the providence of God, which greatly tended to facilitate the progress of truth. This was a great schism in the church of Rome, which originated as follows: After the death of Gregory XI. who expired in the midst of his anxiety to crush Wicklifte and his doctrines, Urban the Sixth, suc- ceeded to the papal chair. This pope was so proud and insolent, and so intent on the advancement ef his nephews and kindred, which he frequently accomplished by in- juring other princes, that the greatest number of his cardinals and courtiers deserted him, and set up another pope against him, nam- FOX'S MAKTVRS. ed Clement, who reigned eleven years. After him Benedict the Tiiirteenth, who reigned twenty- six years. Again, on the contrary side, after Urban the Sixth, suc- ceeded Boniface the Ninti), In- nocent the Eightli, Gregory the Twelfth, Alexander the Fifth, and John the Tiiirteenth. To relate all the particulars of this miserable schism, would require volumes ; we shall merely take notice of a few of the principal occurrences from which the reader may form an idea of the bloodshed and misery brought on the Christian world by t!ie ambition and wicked- ness of these pretended represen- tations of our blessed Saviour ; and may judge how widely they departed from his blessed maxims 15 115 BOOK OF MARTYRS. of peace and goochvill to all men. Otho, dv.ke of Brunswick and prince of Tareatum, was taken and murdered. Joan, his wife, queen of Jerusalem and Sicily, who had sent to pope Urban, be- side other gifts, 40,000 ducats in gold, was afterwards, by his order, committed to prison, and there strane^led. Many cardinals were racke'd, and tortured to death ; battles were fought between the rival popes, in which great multi- tudes Avcre slain. Five cardinals were beheaded together, after long torments. The bishop of Aquilo- nensis, heing suspected by pope fjrban, for not riding faster when in his company, was slain on the spot by the pope's order. Thus did these demons in human form torment each other for the space of thirty-nine years, until the council of Constance. WICKLIFFE TRANSLATES THE BIBLE. Wickliffe, paying less regard to the injunctions of the bishops than to his duty to God, continued to promulgate his doctrines, and gradually to unveil the truth to the eyes of men. He wrote se- veral books, which, as maybe sup- posed, gave great alarm and of- fence to the clergy. But God raising him up a protector in the duke of Lancaster, he was secure from their malice. He translated the Bible into English, which, amidst the ignorance of the times, may be compared to the sun break- ing forth in a dark night. To this Bible he prefixed a bold preface, wherein he reflected on the im- moralities of the clergy, and con- . demned the worship of saints, images, and the corporal presence of Christ in the sacrament: but what gave the greatest offence to the priests, was, his exhorting all people to read the scriptures, in which the testimonies against all those corruptions appeared so strongly. About the same time tlie common people, goaded to desperation by the oppressions of the nobility and elergy, rose in arms, and committed great devastations ; and, among other persons of distinction, they put to death Simon of Sudbury, archbishop of Canterbury. He was succeeded by William Court- ney, who was no less diligent than his predecessor had been, in at- tempting to root out heretics. Not- withstanding all opposition, how- ever, Wickliiie's sect increased, and daily grew to greater force, until the time that William Barton, vice-chancellor of Oxford, who had the whole rule of that university, assisted by some monastic doctors, issued an edict, prohibiting all persons, under a heavy penalty, from associating themselves with any of Wickiiffe's favourers ; and threatening WicIMifie himself with excommunication and imprison- ment, unless he, after three days canonical admonition or warning, did repent and amend. Upon this, Wicklifte wished to appeal to the king: but the duke of Lancaster forbade him ; whereupon he was forced again to make confession of his doctrine ; in which confession, by qualifying his assertions, he miti- gated the vigour of his enemies. Still his followers greatly mul- tiplied. Many of them, . indeed, were not men of learning ; but being wrought upon by the con- viction of plain reason, they were the more steadfast in their persua- sion. In a short time his doctrines made a great progress, being not only espoused by vast numbers of the students of Oxford, but also by many of the nobility, particularly by the duke of Lancaster and lord Percy, earl marshal, as before mentioned. Wickliffe may thus be consider- ed as the great founder of the re- formation in this kingdom. He was of Merton college in Oxford, wliere he took his doctor's degree, and became so eminent for his fine genius and great learning, that Simon Islip, archbisuop of Can- terbury, having founded Canter- bury college, now Christ Church, in Oxford, appointed him rector ; Avhich employment he filled with universal approbation, till the BURNING OF THE WICKLTFFITES. 227 dcalli of tlie archbishop. Lang- holm, successor to Islip, being de- sirous of favouiing the monks, and introducing them into the college, attempted to remove AVickliffe, and put Woodhall, a monk, in his place. But the fellows of the college being attached to Wickliffe, would not consent to this. Never- tlieless, the affair being carried to Rome, Wickliffe was deprived in favour of Woodhall. This did not at all lessen the reputation of the farmer, every one perceiving it was a general affair, and that the monks did not so much strike at Wickliile's person, as at all the .secular priests who were members of the college. And, indeed, they were all turned out, to make room for the monks. Shortly after,. Wicklilfe was presented to the living of Lutterworth, in the county of Leicester, where he re- mained unmolested till bis death, which happened December 31, 1.385, But after the body of this good man had Iain in the grave forty-one years, his bones were taken up by the decree of the synod of Constance, publicly burnt, and his ashes thrown into a river. The condemnation of his doctrine did not prevent its spreading all over the kingdom, and with such success, that, according to S pel- man, "two men could not be found together, and one not a Lollard, or WickliRite." TENETS OF WICKLIFFE. The following are among the ar- ticles of Wickliffe which were con- demned as heretical : The substance of material bread and wine doth remain in the sacra- ment of the altar after the conse- cration. The accidents do not remain without the subject in the same sacrament, after the consecration. That Christ is not in the sacra- ment of the altar truly and really, in his proper and corporal person. That if a bishop or a priest be in deadly sin, he doth not order, con- secrate, nor baptize. That if a man be duly and truly contrite and penitent, all exterior and outer confession is but super- fluous and unprofitable unto him. That it is not found or established by the gospel, that Christ did make or ordain mass. If the pope be a reprobate and evil man, and consequently a member of the devil, he hath no power by any manner of means given unto him over faithful Christians. That since the time of Urban the Sixth, there is none to be re- ceived for pope, but every man is to live after the manner of the Greeks, under bis own law. That it is against the scriptures, that ecclesiastical ministers should have any temporal possessions. That no prelate ought to excom- municate any man except he knew him first to be excommunicate of God. That he who dot'i so excommu- nicate any man, is thereby himself either an heretic or excommuni- cated. That all such which do leave off preaching or hearing the word of God, or preacliiug of the gospel for fear of excommunication, they are already excommunicated, and in the day of judgment shall be counted as traitors unto God. That it is lawful for any man, either deacon or priest, to preach the word of God, without authority or licence of the apostolic see or any other of his Catholics. That so long as a man is in deadly sin, he is neither bishop nor prelate in the church of God. Wickliffe wrote several works, which, in the year 1410, were burnt at Oxford, the abbot of Shrews- bury being then commissary. And in Bohemia likewise, his books were burnt by the archbishop of Prague. BURNING OF THE WICKLIFFITES. In the council ef the Lateran, a decree was made with regard lo heretics, which required all ma- gistrates to extirpate them upon pain of forfeiture and deposition. 2^28 BOOK OF MARTYRS. The canons of iHis council being received in England, the prosecu- tion of heretics became a part of the common law ; and a writ (styled da hcrctico comhurendo ) was issued under king Henry IV. for burning them upon their conviction; and it was enacted, that all who presumed to preach without the licence of the bishops, should be imprisoned, and be brought to trial within three months. If, upon conviction, they offered to abjure, and were not re- lapses, they were to be imprisoned and fined at pleasure ; but if they refused to abjure, or were relapses, they were to be delivered over to the secular arm; and the magis- trates were to burn them in some public place. About this time William Sautre, parish priest of St. Osith in London, being con- demned as a relapse, and degraded by Arundel, archbishop of Canter- bury, a writ was issued, wherein burning is called the common pu- nishment, and referring to the cus- toms of other nations. This was the first example of that sort in England. The clergy, alarmed lest the doctrines of Wicklifie should ulti- mately become established, used every exertion in their power to check them. In the reign of Ri- chard II. the bishops had obtained a general licence to imprison here- tics, without being obliged to pro- cure a special order from court, which, however, the house of com- mons caused to be revoked. But as the fear of imprisonment could not check the pretended evil dreaded by the bishops, Henry IV. whose particular object was to se- cure the aff"ection of the clergy, earnestly recommended to the parliament the concerns of the church. How reluctant soever the house of commons might be to prosecute the Lollards, the credit of the court, and the cabals of the clergy, at last obtained a most de- testable act, for the burning of ob- stinate heretics; which bloody sta- tute was not repealed till tlie year 1077. It was immediately after the passing of this statute that the ecclesiastical court condemned William Sautre abovementioned. INCREASE OF WICKLIFFE's DOC- TRINE. Notwithstanding the opposition of the popish clergy, Wickliffe's doctrine continued to spread greatly in Henry the IVth's reign, even to such a degree, that the majority of the house of commons were inclined to it; whence they presented two petitions to the king, one against the clergy, the other in -favour of the Lollards. The first set forth, that the clergy made ill use of their wealth, and consumed their income in a manner quite different from the in- tent of the donors. That their re- venues were excessive, and conse- quently that it would be necessary to lessen them; that so many estates might easily be seized as would provide for 150 earls at the rate of 3000 marks a year each, 1500 barons at 100 marks each, 6200 knights at 40 marks, and 100 hospitals ; that by this means the safety of the kingdom might be better provided for, the poor better maintained, and the clergy more devoted to their duty. — In the se- cond petition the commons prayed, that the statute passed against the Lollards, in the second year of this reign, might be repealed, or quali- fied with some restrictions. As it was the king's interest to please the clergy, he answered the com- mons very sharply, that he neither could nor would consent to their petitions. And with regard to the Lollards, he declared he wished the heretics were extirpated out of the land. To prove the truth of this, he signed a warrant for burning Thomas Badby. MARTYRDOM OF THOMAS BADBY. Thomas Badby was a layman, and by trade a tailor. He was ar- raigned in the year 1409 before the bishop of AVorcester, and con- victed of heresy. On his examina- tion he said, that it was impossible SIR JOHN OLDCASTLE. n9 any priest could make the body of Christ sacramentaHy, nor would he believe it, unless he saw, mani- festly, the corporal body of the Lord to be handled by the priest at the altar; that it was ridiculous to imagine that at the supper Clirist held in his own hand his own body, and divided it among his disciples, and yet remained whole. " I be- lieve," said he, "the omnipotent God in trinity ; but if every conse- crated host at the altars be Christ's body, there must then be in Eng- land no less than 20,000 gods." After this he was brought before the archbishop of Canterbury at St. Paul's church, and again exa- mined in presence of a great num- ber of bishops, the duke of York, and several of the first nobility. Great pains were used to make him recant ; but he courageously answered, that he would still abide by his former opinions, which no power should force him to forego. On this the archbishop of Canter- bury ratified the sentence given by the bishop of Worcester. When the king had signed the warrant for his death, he was brought to Smithfield*, and there being put in an empty tub, was bound with iron chains fastened to a stake, and had dry wood piled around him. And as he was thus standing in the tun, it happened that the prince of Wales, the king's eldest son, was there present; who being moved with compassion, endea- voured to save the life of him whom the hypocritical Levites and Pha- risees sought to put to death. He admonished and counselled him, that having respect unto himself, he should speedily withdraw him- self out of these dangerous laby- rinths of opinions, adding often- * It will not be uninteresting to our town readers, to be informed, that that part of Smithfield wliere the large board containing the laws and regulations of the market formerly stood, is the very spot on wkich their forefathers suffered for the cause of Christ. There many an English martyr's body mingled with dust ; from thence ascended many a souj to in- herit everlasting glory. times threatenings, which might have daimted any man not sup- ported by the true faith. Also Courtney, at that time chancellor of Oxford, preached unto him, and informed him of the faith of holy church. In the mean time the prior of St. Bartholomew's, in Smithfield, brought with all solemnity the sa- crament of God's body, with twelve torches borne before, and shewed the sacrament to the poor man at the stake. And then they demanded of him how he believed in it, he answered, that he knew well it was hallowed bread, and not God's body. And then was the tun put over him, and fire put unto him. And when he felt the fire, he cried, " Mercy !" (calling upon the Lord), when the prince immediately commanded to take away the tun, and quench the fire. He then asked him if he would forsake heresy, and take the faith of holy church, which, if he would do, he should have goods enough, promising him also a yearly pension out of the king's treasury. But this valiant cham- pion of Christ, neglecting the prince's fair words, as also con- temning all men's devices, refused the ofl'er of worldly promises, being more inflamed by the spirit of God, than by any earthly desire. Where- fore, as he continued immovable in his former mind, the prince com- manded him straight to be put again into the tun, and that he should not afterwards look for any grace or favour. But as he could be allured by no rewards, he was not at all abashed at their tor- ments, but, as a valiant soldier of Christ, persevered invincibly till his body was reduced to ashes, and l^is soul rose triumphant unto him who gave it. MARTYRDOM OF SIR JOHN OLD- CASTLE. The persecutions of the Lollards in the reign of Henry V. v.ere owing to the cruel instigations of the clergy, who thought that the most effectual way to check the 230 BOOK OF MARTYRS. progress of Wicklifle's doctrii^e, would be to attack the then chief protector of it, viz. Sir John Old- castle, baron of Cobham ; and to persuade the king that the Lol- lards were engaged in conspiracies to overturn the state. It was e^en reported, that they intended to murder the king, together with the princes, his brothers, and most of the lords spiritual and temporal, in hopes that the confusion which must necessarily arise in the king- dom, after such a massacre, would prove favourable to their religion. Upon this a false rumour was spread, that Sir John Oldcastle had got together 20,000 men in St. Giles's in the Fields, a place then overgrown with bushes. The king himself went thither at midnight, and finding no more than fourscore or a hundred persons, who were privately met upon a religious ac- count, he fell upon them and killed many. Some of them being after- wards examined, were prevailed upon, by promises or threats, to confess whatever their enemies de- sired ; and these accused Sir John Oldcastle, The king hereupon thought him guilty ; and in that belief set a thousand marks upon his head, with a promise of perpetual ex- emption from taxes to any town which should secure him. Sir John was apprehended and impri- soned in the Tower; but escaping from thence, he fled into Wales, where he long concealed himself. But being afterwards seized in Powislaud, in North Wales, by Lord Powis, he was brought to London, to the great joy of the clergy, who were highly incensed against him, and resolved to sa- crifice him, to strike a terror into the rest of the Lollards. Sir John was of a very good family, had been sherifl' of Hertfordshire under Henry IV. and summoned to par- liament among the barons of the realm in that reign. He had been sent beyond the sea, with the earl of Arundel, to assist the duke of Burgundy against the French. In a word, he was a man of extraor- dinary merit, notwithstaniHng which he was condemned to be hanged up by the waist with a chain, and burnt alive. This most barbarous sentence was executed amidst the curses and imprecations of the priests and monks, who used their utmost endeavours to prevent the people from praying for him. Such was the tragical end of Sir John Oldcastle, who left the world with a resolution and constancy, that answered perfectly to the brave spirit with which he had ever maintained the cause of truth and of his God. Not satisfied with his single death, the clergy induced the par- liament to make fresh statutes against the Lollards. It was en- acted, among other things, that whosoever read the scriptures in Englis!?, should forfeit land, chat- tels, goods, and life ; and be con- demned as heretics to God, ene- mies to the crown, and traitors to the kingdom ; that they should not have the benefit of any sanc- tuary ; and that, if they continued obstinate, or relapsed after being pardoned, they should first be hanged for treason against the king, and then burned for heresy against God. This act was no sooner passed, but a violent per- secution was raised against the Lollards ; several of them were burnt alive, some fled the king- dom, and others were weak enough to abjure their religion, to escape the torments prepared for them. CONFESSION OF SIR JOHN OLD- CASTLE. The following is the confession of this virtuous and true Christian, which, from its clearness and sim- plicity, is well worthy of remem- brance. He commences with the apostles creed thus : " I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth : and in Jesus Christ his only son our Lord, which was con- ceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the virgin Mary, suftered under Pontius Pilate, crucified, dead, and buried, went down to hell, the PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 231 third day rose ag^ain from death, ascended up to Heaven, sitteth on the rirought to his trial for Hun's murder, and upon Lis pleading not guilty, no evi- dence was to be brought, and so he was to be discharged. The discontents of the people greatly increased at this, and very much disposed them to all that was done afterwards, for overthrowing the ecclesiastical tyranny. This was the first disagreement between the clergy and laity in this king's reign. In all other points he was at this time attached to the pope's interests, who sent him the common compliments of roses, and such other trifles, by which that see had treated princes so long as children. But no com- pliment wrought so much on the king's vanity, as the title of " De- fender of the Faith," sent him by pope Leo upon the book which he wrote against Luther concerning the sacraments. PERSECUTION OF THE LOLLARDS. In the beginning of this reign, several persons Vv'ere brought into the bishops' courts for heresy, or Lollardism. Forty-eight were ac- cused: but of these, forty-three abjured, twenty-seven men and sixteen women, most of them being of Teuterden ; and five of them, four men and one woman, were condemned ; some as obstinate he- retics, and others as relapses : and, against the common laws of na- ture, the woman's husband, and her two sous, were brought as wit- nesses against her. Upon their conviction, a certificate was made by the archbishop to the chancery: upon which, since there is no par- don upon record, the writs for burning them must have been is- sued in course, and the execution of them is little to be doubted. The articles objected to them were, that they believed that in the eu- charist there was nothing but ma- terial bread; that the sacraments of baptism, confirmation, confes- sion, matrimony, and extreme unction, were neither necessary nor profitable ; that priests had no more power than laymen; that pil- grimages were not meritorious, and that the money and labour spent in them were spent in vain; that images ought not to be wor- shipped, and that they were only stocks and stones ; that prayers ought not to be made to saints, but only to God; that there was no virtue in holy water, or holy bread. By this it will appear, that many in this nation were prepared to re- ceive those doctrines, which were afterwards preached by the re- formers, even before Luther began first to oppose indulgences. PROGRESS OF LUTHER'S DOCTRINE. The rise and progress of the doc- 3 236 BOOK OF MARTYRS. trines of Luther are well known; the scandalous Sale of indulo;ences gave the first occasion to all that tbllowed between liim and the church of Rome ; in which, had not the corruptions and cruelties of the clergy been so visible and scandal- ous, so small a cause could never have produced so great a revolu- tion. The bishops v.ere grossly igno- rant; they seldom resided in their dioceses, except on great festivals ; and all the effect their residence at such times could have, was to cor- rupt others by their ill example. They attached.themselvesto princes, and aspired to the greatest offices. The abbots and monks were wholly given up to luxury and idleness ; and their unmarried state gave infinite scandal to the world : for it appeared, that the restrain- ing them from having wives of their own, made them conclude that they had a right to all other men's. The inferior clergy were no better: and not having places of retreat to conceal their vices in, as the monks had, they became more public. In short, all ranks of churchmen were so universally despised and hated, that the world was very easily possessed with prejudice against the doctrines of men whom they knew to be ca- pable of every vice; and the wor- ship of God was so defiled with gross superstition, that all men were easily convinced, that the church stood in great need of a reformation. This was much in- creased when the books of the fa- thers began to be read, in which the difference between the former and latter ages of the church, did very evidently appear. It was found that a blind superstition came first in the room of true piety; and when by its means the wealth and interest of the clergy were highly advanced, the popes had upon that established their ty- ranny ; under which all classes of people had long groaned. All these things concurred to make way for the advancement of the reformation: and, the books of the German reformers being brought into England, and translated, many were prevailed on by them. Upon this, a furious persecution was set on foot, to such a degree, that six men and women were burnt in Coventry in passion-week, only for teaching their children the creed, the Lord's prayer, and the ten commandments in English, Great numbers were every where brought into the bishops' courts; of whom some were burnt, but the greater part abjured. The king laid hold on this occa- sion to become the champion of the church, and wrote against Lu- ther, as mentioned above. His book, besides the title of "De- fender of the Faith," drew upon him all that flattery could invent to extol it; yet Luther, not daunted by such an antagonist, answered it, and treated him as much below the respect that was due to a king, as his flatterers had raised him above it. Tindal's translation of the New Testament, with notes, drew a severe condemnation from the clergy, there being nothing in which they were more concerned, than to keep the people unac- quainted with that book. Thus much may serve to shew the con- dition of aff"airs in England both in church and state, when the process of the king's divorce was first set on foot. HISTORY OF henry's MARRIAGE WITH CATHERINE. As this incident is so replete with consequences, a particular re- lation of its cause will not, it is presumed, be unacceptable to the reader. Henry the Seventh had entered into a firm alliance with Ferdinand of Spain, aad agreed on a match between his son prince Arthur, and Catherine the Infanta of Spain. She came into England, and was married in November; but on the second of April after, the prince died. They were not only bedded in ceremony the night of the mar- riage, but continued still to lodge together; and the prince gave occa- 4 PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 237 sion to believe, that the marriage was consummated. The king being nmvilling to restore so great a portion as 2tK),000 dueats, which the princess brought as her dowry, proposed a second match for her with his younger son Henry. Warham ob- jected against the lawfulness of it ; but Fox, bishop of Winches- ter, was for it, and the opinion of the pope's authority was then so well established, that it was thought a dispensation from Rome was sufficient to remove all ob- jections. Accordingly, one was obtained, grounded upon the desire of the two young persons to marry together, for the preservation of peace between the crowns of Eng- land and Spain. The pope was then at war with Lewis the Twelfth of France, and so would refuse nothing to the king of England, being perhaps not unwilling that princes should contract such marriages, by which the legitimation of their issue de- pending on the pope's dispensa- tion, they would be thereby obliged in interest to support that autho- rity. Upon this a marriage fol- lowed, the prince being yet under age ; but the same day in which he came to be of age, he did, by his father's orders, make a protesta- tion that he retracted and annulled his marriage. Henry the Seventh, on his death- bed, charged his son to break it off entirely, being perhaps apprehen- sive of such a return of confusion upon a controverted succession to the crown, as had been during the wars of the houses of York and Lancaster ; but after his father's death, Henry the Eighth being then eighteen years of age, mar- ried her : she bore him two sons, who died soon after they were born ; and a daughter, Mary, afterwards queen of England. After this the queen contracted some diseases that made her un- acceptable to the king ; who, at tlie same time beginning to have some scruples of conscience with Regard to the lawfulness of his marriage, determined to have the affair investigated. THE king's scruples CONCERNING HIS MARRIAGE. He seemed to lay the greatest weight on the prohibition, in the levitical law, of marrying the bro- ther's wife, and being conversant in Thomas Aquinas's writings, he found, that he and the other school- men looked on those laws as moral, and for ever binding ; and conse- quently the pope's dispensation was of no force, since his authority went not so far as to dispense with the laws of God. All the bishops of England, Fisher of Ilochester only excepted, declared under their hands and seals, that they judged the marriage unlawful. The ill consequences of wars that might follow upon a doubtful title to the crown, were also much con- sidered. It is not probable that Henry's affection for any other lady was the origin of these pro- ceedings ; but rather, that, con- ceiving himself upon the point of being freed of his former marriage, he gave free scope to his afiections, which settled on Anne Boleyn. This lady was born in the year 1507, and at seven years of age was sent to France, where she re- mained twelve years, and then re- turned to England. She was much admired in both courts, was more beautiful than graceful, and more cheerful than discreet. She want- ed none of the charms of wit or person, and must have had extra- ordinary attractions, since she could so long retain her place in such a king's affection. Knight, then secretary of state, was sent to Rome to prepare the pope to grant a dispensation from the former marriage. Knight made application to the pope in the most secret manner he could, and had a very favourable answer ; for the pope promised frankly to dissolve the marriage : but another promise being exacted of him by the em- peror Charles V. nephew of Cathe- rine, not to proceed in that affair, he was reduced to great straits, 238 BOOK OF MARTYRS. being then at his mercy, and yet unwilling to offend the king of England : he therefore studied to gain time, and promised that if the king would have a little patience, he should not only have that which he asked, but every thing that was in his power to grant. Some scruples were made con- cerning the bull that was de- manded, till, by great presents it was at length obtained, and then the pope signed a commission for Wolsey to try the cause, and judge in it, and also a dispensation, and put them in Knight's hands ; but with tears prayed him that there might be no proceedings upon them, till the emperor were pnt out of a capacity of executing his re- venge upon him, and whenever that was done he would own this act of justice which he did in the king's favour. The pope was at tliis time of- fended with Cardinal Wolsey ; for he understood, that during his captivity, Wolsey had been in an intrigue to get himself chosen vicar of the papacy, and was to have sate at Avignon, which might have pro- duced a new schism. Staphileus, dean of the Rota, being then in England, was prevailed on by the promise of a bishopric, and a re- commendation to a cardinal's hat, to promote the king's ail'air ; and by him the cardinal wrote to the pope, in a most earnest strain, for a dispatch of this business ; and he desired, that an indifferent and tractable cardinal might be sent over, with a full commission to join with him, and to judge the matter; proposing to the king's ambassadors, Campegio, who was the fittest man. The cardinal, in his letters to Cassali, who was in great favour with the pontiff, offered to take the blame on his own soul, if the pope would grant this bull ; and with an earnestness, as hearty and warm as can be expressed in words, he pressed the thing, and added, that if the pope continued inexorable, he perceived tlse king would pro- ceed another way. These entreaties had such an effect, that Campegio was declared legate, and ordered to go for Eng- land, and join in commission with AVoIsey for judging this matter. He accordingly set out from Rome, and carried with him a decretal bull, for annulling the marriage, which he was authorized to shew to the king and Wolsey ; but was required not to give it out of his hands to either of them. CAMPEGIO COMES INTO ENGLAND. In October he arrived in Eng- land, and advised the king to relin- quish the prosecution of his suit ; and then counselled the queen, in the pope's name, to enter into a religious community ; but both were in vain ; and he, by affecting an impartiality, almost lost both sides. But he in great measure pacified the king, when he shewed him the bull he had brought over for annulling the maniage ; yet he would not part with it out of his hands, neither to the king, nor the cardinal ; upon which, great solicitation was employed at Rome, that Campegio might be ordered to shew it to some of the king's counsellors, and to go on and end the business, otherwise Wolsey would be ruined, and England lost : yet all this did not prevail or the pope, who knew that the king intended to get the bull out of Campegio's hands, and then to leave the pontiff to the em- peror's indignation : but though he positively refused to grant that, yet, he said, he left the legates in England free to judge as they saw cause, and promised that he would confirm their sentence. The affair proceeding very slowly, ambassadors were dis- patched to Rome with new propo- sitions, for a speedy termination. On this, the pope gave new assur- ances, that though he would not grant a bull, by which the divorce should be immediately his own act, yet he would confirm the legate's sentence. About this time, the pope was taken suddenly ill, upon which, PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 239 the Imperialists bec^au to prepare for a conclave : but Farnese, and the cardinal of Mantua, opposed them, and seemed to favour Wol- sey ; whom, as his correspondents wrote to him, " they reverenced as a Deity." Upon this he dispatched a courier to Gardiner, then on his way to Rome, with large directions, how to manage the election ; it was reckoned, that on the kin<5 of France joining heartily with Henry, of which he seemed confident, tliere M^ere only six cardinals wanting to make the election sure, and besides sums of money, and other rewards, that were to be distributed among them, he was to give them assur- ance, that the cardinal's prefer- ments should be divided among them. These were the secret me- thods of attaining that chair : and indeed it would puzzle a man of au ordinary degree of credulity, to think, that one chosen by such means could presume to be Christ's vicar, and the infaliible judge of controversies. The recovery, how- ever, of the pope, put an end to those intrigues. THE QUEEN APPEALS TO THE POPE. At length the legates began the process, when the queen protested against them as incompetent judg- es. They, however, proceeded ac- cording to the forms of law, although the queen had appealed from them to the pope, and objected both to the place, to the judges, and her lawyers : yet they pronounced her contumacious, and went on to ex- amine witnesses, chiefly as to the consummation of her mamage with prince Arthur. But now since the process was thuB going on, the emperor's agents pressed the pope vehemently for an avocation ; and all possible endeavours were used by the king's agents to hinder it; it was told him, that there was a treaty on foot between the king and the Lutheran princes of Germany ; and that upon declaring" himself so partial as to grant the avocation, this would certainly be concluded. But the pope tliought the king so far engaged in houour ia the points of religion, that he would not be prevailed with to unite with Lu- ther's followers ; he did not there- fore imagine, that the eflects of his granting the avocation would be so fatal as was represented. In con- clusion, therefore, after the empe- ror had enpaged to him to re- store his family to the government of Florence, the pope resolved to publish his treaty with him: he told the English ambassadors, that he was forced to it; both because all the lawyers told him, it could not be denied, and that he could not resist the emperor's forces, which surrounded him on all hands. Their endeavours to gain a little time by delays were as fruitless as their other arts had been, for on the 15tii of July, the pope signed it, and on the 19th, sent it by an express messenger to England. The legates, Campegio in parti- cular, drew out the matter, by all the delays they could contrive, and gained much time. At last, sen- tence being to be pronounced, Campegio, instead of pronoucing it, adjourned the court till October, and said, that they being a part of the consistory, must observe their times of vacation. This gave the king and his court great offence, wheal they saw what was like to be the issue of a process, on which his majesty was so much bent, and in which he was so far engaged, both in honour and interest. The king governed himself upon this occasion with more temper than was expected : he dismissed Cam- pegio civilly, only his officers searched his coffers when he went beyond sea, with design, as was thought, to see if the decretal bull could be found. Wolsey was now upon the point of being disgraced, though the king seemed to treat him with all his former confidence. ACCOUNT OF CRANMER. At this period. Dr. Cranmer, a fellow of .Jesus College in Cam- bridge, meeting accidentally with Gardiner and Fox at Walthara, and entering into discourse upon the royal marriage, suggested, that the 240 BOOK OF MARTYRS. king should engage the cliief uni- versities and divines of Europe, to examine the lawfulness of his mar- riage; and if they gave their reso- lutions against it, then it being certain that the pope's dispensation could not derogate from the law of God, the marriage must be declared null. This novel and reasonable scheme they proposed to the king, who was much pleased with it, as he saw this way was better in itself, and would mortify the pope. Cran- mer was accordingly sent for, and on conversing with him, the king conceived an high opinion both of his learning and prudence, as well as of his probity and sincerity, which took such root in his mind, that no artifices, nor calumnies, were ever able to remove it. WOLSEY IS DISGRACED. From this moment began the de- cline of Wolsey. The great seal was taken from him, and given to Sir Thomas More: and he was sued in a priemunire, for having held the legatiue courts by a foreign authority, contrary to the laws of England: he confessed the indict- ment, pleaded ignorance, and sub- mitted himself to the king's mercy ; so judgment passed on him: then was his rich palace and royal fur- niture seized on for the royal use ; yet the king received him again into his protection, and restored to him the temporalties of the sees of York and Winchester, and above 60001. in plate, and other goods. Articles were, however, preferred against him, in the house of lords, where he had but few friends ; but Cromwell, who had been his secre- tary, did so manage the matter in the house of commons, that it came to nothing. This failing, his ene- mies procured an order to be sent to him, to go into Yorkshire : thi- ther he went in great state, with 160 horses in his train, and 72 carts following him. There he lived some time ; but the king being informed, that he v/as practising with the pope and the emperor, sent the earl of Northumberland to arrest him for high treason, and bring him up to Loudon. On the way he sickened, and died at Lei- cester, making great protestations of his constant fidelity to the king, particularly in the matter of his divorce : and " wishing he had served God as faithfully as he had done the king ; for then he would not have cast him off in his grey hairs, as the king had done :" words that declining favourites are apt to reflect on, but seldom remember in the height of their fortune. THE UNIVERSITIES DECLARE A- GAINST THE KlNO's MARRIAGE. The king now intending to pro- ceed in the method proposed by Cranmer, sent to Oxford and Cam- bridge, to procure their conclu- sions. At Oxford, it was referred by the major part of the convo- cation to tliirty-three doctors and bachelors of divinity, whom that faculty was to name : they were empow ered to determine the ques- tion, and put the seal of the uni- versity to their conclusion. And they gave their opinions, that the marriage of the brother's wife was contrary botli to the laws of God and nature. At Cambridge the convocation referred tiie question to twenty-nine ; of which number, two thirds agreeing, they were era- powered to put the seal of the university to their determination. These agreed in opinion with those of Oxford. The jealousy of Dr. Cranmer's favouring Lutheranism, caused the fierce popish party to oppose every thing in which he was engaged. 'They were also afraid of Anne Boleyn's advancement, who was believed to be tinctured with these opinions. Crook, a learned man, was employed in Italy, to procure the resolution of divines there ; in which he was so successful, that besides the great discoveries he made in searching the manuscripts of the Greek fa- thers concerning their opinions in this point, he engaged several per- sons to write fur the king's cause : and also got the Jews to give their o^jinions of the laws in Leviticus, PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. Ul that they were moral and oblif^a- torj'^; yet, when a brother died ■H'itliout issue, his brotlier might marry his widow within Judea, for preservings their families and suc- cession ; but they tliou2:ht that mifi^ht not be done out of Judea. The state of Venice would not de- clare themselves, but said they M'ould be neutral, and it was not easy to persuade the divines of the republic to give their opinions, till a brief was obtained of the pope, permitting all divines and canon- ists to deliver their opinions ac- cording to their consciences. The pope abhorred this way of pro- ceeding, though he could not de- cently oppose it : but he said, in great scorn, that no friar should set limits to his power. Crook was ordered to give no money, nor make promises to any, till they had freely delivered their opinion ; which he is said to have faithfully observed. Martyrdom of Archbishop Cramner at Oxford, March 21, 1356. He sent over to England an hun- dred several books, and papers, with many subscriptions ; all con- demning the king's marriage as un- lawful in itself. At Paris, the Sorbonne made their determination with great solemnity ; after mass, all the doctors took an oath to study the question, and to give their judgment according to their consciences ; and after three weeks study, the greater part agreed on this : " that the king's marriage FOX'S MARTYRS. was unlawful, and that the pope could not dispense with it." At Orleans, Anglers, and Toulouse, they determined to the same pur- pose. Calvin thought the marriage null, and all agreed that the pope's dispensation was of no force. Osiander was employed to engage the Lutheran divines, but they were afraid of giving the emperor new grounds of displeasure. Melancthon thought the law in 16 242 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Leviticus was dispensable, and that the marriage niiojht be law- ful ; and that, in those matters, states and princes mihow they em- ployed their time, and what priests they had as their confessors ? The visitors were also ordered to deliver some injunctions in the king's name, as to his supremacy, and the act of succession ; and were authorized to absolve every one from any rules or oaths of obe- dience to the pope. They were also ordered to take care that the abbots should not have choice dishes, but plain tables for hospitality ; and that the scrip- tures should be read at meals ; ilisd they should have daily lectures of divinity ; and maintain some of every house at the university, and to require that the abbot of each monastery should instruct the monks in true religion, and shew them that it did not consist in outward ceremonies, but in clear- ness of heart, purity of life, and the worshipping of God in spirit and truth. Rules were given about their revenues, and against ad- mitting any under twenty years of age; and the visitors were em- powered to punish offenders, or to bring them to answer before the visitor-general. The visitors went over England, and found in many places mon- strous disorders. The most hor- rible and disgusting crimes were found to be practised in many of the houses ; and vice and cruelty were more frequently the inmates of these pretended sanctuaries than religion and piety. The report contained many abominable things, not fit to be mentioned : some of these were printed, but the greatest part was lost. The first house that was surren- dered to the king was Langden, in Kent ; the abbot of which was found in bed with a woman, who went in the habit of a lay brother. To prevent greater evil to himself, he and ten of his monks signed a resignation of their house to the king. Two other monasteries in the same county, Folkstone and Dover, followed their example. And in the following year, four others made the like surren- ders. DEATH OF QUEEN CATHERINE. On January 8, 1536, queen Ca- therine died. She had been resolute in maintaining her title and state, saying, that since the pope had judged her marriage was good, she would die rather than do any thing to prejudice it. She desired to be buried among the Observant friars, who had most strongly sup-~ ported her, and suflered for her cause. She ordered 500 masses to be said for her soul ; and that one of her women should go a PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 261 pilgrimage to our lady of Walsing- iiam, and give two hundred nobles on her way to the poor. When she found death approaching, she wrote to the emperor, recommend- ing her daughter to his care : also to the king, with this inscription, " My dear lord, king, and hus- band." She forgave him all the injuries he had done her; and wished him to have regard to his soul. She recommended her daughter to his protection, and desired him to be kind to her three maids, and to pay her ser- vants a year's wages ; and con- cluded with, " Mine eyes desire you above all things." She ex- pired at Kimbolton, in the fiftieth year of her age, having been thirty-three years in England. She was devout and exemplary ; pa- tient and charitable. Her virtues and her suflerings created an es- teem for her in all ranks of people. The king ordered her to be buried in the abbey of Peterborough, and was somewhat afiected at her death ; but the natural barbarity of his temper prevented him from feeling much remorse on the re- flection that he had embittered the existence of a woman who loved and reverenced him. The same year the parliament confirmed the act empowering thirty-two persons to revise the ecclesiastical laws ; but no time being limited for finishing it, it had no effect. The chief business of this session, was the suppress- ing of all monasteries whose re- venues did not exceed £200 a year. The act sets forth the great disorders of those houses, and the many unsuccessful attempts made to reform them. The religious that were in them, were ordered to be placed in the greater houses, and the revenues given to the king. The king was also em- powered to make new foundations of such of the suppressed houses as he pleased, which were in all three hundred and seventy. This parliament, after six years con- tinuance, was now dissolved. A TRANSLATION OF THE BIBLE PKOPOSIiD. In a convocation which sat at this time, a motion was made for translating the Bible into English, which had been promised when Tindal's translation was condemn- ed, but was afterwards laid aside by the clergy, as neither necessary nor expedient. It was said, that those whose office it was to teach the people the word of God, did all they could to suppress it. Moses, the prophets, and the apostles, wrote in the vulgar tongue: Christ directed the people to search the scriptures ; and as soon as any nation was converted to the Chris- tian religion, the Bible was trans- lated into their language ; nor was it ever taken out of the hands of the people, till the Christian re- ligion was so corrupted, that it was deemed impolitic to trust them with a book, which would so mani~ festly discover those errors ; and the legends, as agreeing better with those abuses, were read in- stead of the word of God. Cranmer thougiit, that putting the Bible in the people's hands would be the most effectual means for promoting the reformation ; and therefore moved, that the king might be prayed to order it. But Gardiner, and all the other party, opposed this vehemently. They said, all the extravagant opinions lately broached in Germany arose from the indiscreet use of the scriptures. Some of those opin- ions were at this time disseminated in England, both against the divi- nity and incarnation of Christ, and tl'.e usefulness of the sacra- ments. They therefore argued, that during the,«e distractions the use of the scriptures would prove a great snare, and proposed, that instead of them, there might be some short exposition of the Chris- tian religion put into the people's hands, which might keep them in a certain subjection to the king and the church. But, in spite of their arguments, the question of the 262 BOOK OF MARTYRS. translation was carried in the con- vocation in the affirmative. The courtiers v/ere much divided on this point ; some said, if the kin^ gave way to it, he would never be able after that to govern his people, and that they would break into many divisions. But on the other hand, it was maintained, that nothing would make the dif- ference between the pope's power and the king's supremacy appear more eminently, than for the one to give the people the free use of the word of God ; while the other kept them in darkness, and ruled them by a blind obedience. It would do much also in extinguish- ing the interest that either the pope or the monks had among the people. The Bible would teach them, that they had been long de- ceived by impostures, which had no foundation in the scriptures. These reasons, strengthened by the queen's representations to the king, prevailed so far with him, that he gave order for setting about this important affair with all pos- sible haste ; and within three years the impression of it was finished. The popish party saw, with dis- appointment and concern, that the (jueen was the great obstacle to their designs. She grew not only in the king's esteem, but in the love of the nation. During the last nine months of her life she bestowed above £14,000 in alms to the poor, and seemed to delight in doing good. Soon after Cathe- rine's death, Anne bore a dead son, which was believed to have made an unfavourable impression on the king's mind. It was also considered, that now queen Cathe- rine was dead, the king might marry another, and regain the friendship of the pope and the emperor, and that the issue by any other marriage would never be questioned. With these ^reasons of state the king's affections joined; for he was now in love (if so heart- less a monster was capable of feel- ing love) with Jane Seymour, whose disposition was tempered .between the gravity of Catherine and the gaiety of Anne. The latter used all possible arts to re-inflame his dying affection ; but he was weary of her, and therefore determined on her destruction ; to effect which he soon found a pretence. Lady Rochford, wife to the brother of Anne, basely accused her huband of a criminal intercourse with his sister ; and Norris, Weston, and Brereton, the king's servants, with Smeton, a musician, were accused of the same crime. She was confined to her cham- ber, and the live persons before mentioned were sent to the Tower, whither, the next day, she also was carried. On the river some privy counsellors came to examine her, but she made deep protestations of her innocence ; and on landing at the Tower she fell on her knees and prayed God to assist her, pro- testing her innocence of the crimes laid to her charge. Those who were imprisoned on her account denied every thing, except Smeton, who, from hopes of favour and ac- quittal, confessed that he had been criminally connected with her ; but denied it when he was afterwards brought to execution. The queen was of a lively tem- per, and having resided long in the French court, had imbibed somewhat of the levities of that people. Siie was also free from pride, and hence, in her exterior, she might have condescended too much to her familiar servants. Every court sycophant was now her enemy ; and Cranmer formed the only and honourable exception. An order was therefore procured, forbidding him to come to court; yet he wrote the king a long letter upon this critical juncture, wherein he acknowledged, that " if the things reported of the queen were true, it was the greatest affliction that ever befel the king, and there- fore exhorted him to bear it with patience and submission to the will of God; he confessed he never had a better opinion of any woman than of her; and that, next the PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 263 king, he was more bound to her than to all persons liviuj?, and therefore he be2:ged the kins,'s leave to pray that she might be 1 found innocent; he loved her not a little, because of the love which she seemed to hear to God and his a;ospel; but if she was a^uilty, all that loved the gospel must hate her, as having been the greatest slander possible to the gospel ; but he prayed the king not to entertain any prejudice to the gospel on her account, nor give the world to say, that his love to that was founded on the influence she had with him." But the king was inexorable. The prisoners were put on their trial ; when Smeton pleaded guilty, as before; the rest pleaded not guilty; but all v/ere condemned. TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF THE QUEEN. On the 15th of May the queen and her brother, lord Rochford, were tried before the duke of Nor- folk, as high steward, and a court of twenty-seven peers. The crime charged on her was, that she had procured her brother and four others to lie with her ; and had often said to them, that the king- never had her heart; and this was to the slander of the issue begotten between the king and her, which was treason by the act that con- firmed her marriage, so that the act made for the marriage was now turned to her ruin. They r would not now acknowledge her U:', the king's lawful wife, and there- fore did i;ot found the treason on the statuie 2oth Edward III. It does not appear what evidence was brought against her; for Sme- ton being already condemned, could not be made use of; and his never being brought face to face with her, gave just suspicion that he was persuaded to his confes- sion by base practices. There was no other evidence than a de- claration said to have been made by the lady Wingfield, who died before the trial took place; so that whether this declaration were real or a forgery must be very doubt- ful. The earl of Northumberland was one of the judges. He had for- merly been in love with the queen, and, either from a return of his passion, or from some other cause, he became suddenly so ill, that he could not stay out the trial. It was remembered tliat this earl had said to cardinal Wolsey, that lie had engaged himself so far with her, that he could not go back, which was perhaps done by some promise, conceived in words of the future tense ; but no promise, un- less in the words of the present tense, could annul the subsequent marriage. Perhaps the queen did not understand that difference, or probably the fear of a terrible death wrought so much on her, that she confessed the contract; but the earl denied it positively, and took the sacrament upon it, wishing that it might turn to his damnation if there was ever either contract or promise of marriage betweenthem. Upon Iier own con- fession, however, her marriage with the king was judged null from the beginning, and she was condemned, although nothing could be more contradictory ; for if she wa^s never the king's wife, she could not be guilty of adultery, there being no breach of the faith of wedlock, if they were never truly married. But the king was resolved both to be rid of her, and to illegitimatize his daughter by her. The day before her death, she sent her last message to the king, asserting her innocence, recom- mended her daughter to his care, and thanking him for his advanc- ing her first to be a marchioness, then a queen, and now, when he could raise her no higher x>u earth, for sending her to be a saint in Heaven. The lieutenant of the Tower wrote to Cromwell, that it was not fit to publish the time of her execution, for the fewer tliat were present it would be the bet- ter, since he believed she would 2€4 BOOK OF MARTYRS. declare her innocence at the hour of her death ; for that morning she had made great protestations of it when she received the sacra- ment, and seemed to long for death with great joy and pleasure. On being told that the executioner, who had been sent for expressly from France, was very skilful, she expressed great happiness; for she said she had a very short neck, at which she laughed. A little before noon, she was brought to the place of execution ; there were present some of the chief officers and great men of the court. She was, it seems, pre- vailed on, out of regard to her daughter, to make no reflections on the cruel treatment she met with, nor to say any thing touching the grounds on which sentence passed against her. She only de- sired that all would judge the best; she highly commended the king, and then took her leave of the world. She remained for some time in her private devotions, and concluded, " To Christ I commend my soul ;" upon which the execu- tioner struck oft" her head: and so little respect was paid to her body, that it Mas with brutal insolence put in a chest of elm-tree, made to send arrows into Ireland, and then buried in the chapel in the Tower. Norris then had his life promised him if he would accuse her. But this faithful and virtuous servant said he knew she was innocent, and would die a thousand deaths rather than defame her; so he and the three others were beheaded, and all of them continued to the last to vindicate her. The day after queen Anne's death the king married Jane Seymour, who gained more upon him than all his wives ever did ; but she was fortunate that she did not outlive his love to her. THE POPE PROPOSES A RECONCILI- ATION WITH THE KING. Pope Clement the Seventh was now dead, and cardinal Farnese succeeded him by the name of Paul the Third, who made an at- tempt to reconcile himself with the king ; but, when that was rejected, thundered out a most terrible sen- tence of deposition against him. Yet now, since the two queens upon whose account the breach was made were out of the way, he thought it a fit time to attempt the recovery of the papal interest, and ordered Cassali to let the king know that he had been driven, very much against his mind, to pass sentence against him, and that now it would be easy for him to recover the favour of the apos- tolic see. But the king, instead of hearken- ing to the proposition, caused two acts to be passed, by one of which it was made a praemunire for any one to acknowledge the authority of the pope, or to persuade others to it; and by the other, all bulls, and all privileges flowing from them, were declared null and void ; only marriages or consecrations made by virtue of them were excepted. All who enjoyed privileges by these bulls were required to bring them into the chancery, upon which the archbishop was to make a new grant of them, which, being confirmed under the great seal, was to be of full force in law. DEBATES OF THE CONVOCATION. The convocation sat at the same time, and was much employed. Latimer preached a Latin sermon before them ; he was the most ce- lebrated preacher of that time ; the simplicity of his matter, and his zeal in expressing it, being pre- ferred to more elaborate composi- tions. The convocation first con- firmed the sentence of divorce be- tween the king and queen Anne. Then the lower house made an ad- dress to the upper house, com- plaining of sixty-seven opinions, which they found were very much spread in the kingdom. These were either the tenets of the old Lollards, or of the new Reformers, or of the Anabaptists; and many of them were only indiscreet ex- pressions, which might have flowed PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 265 from the heat and folly of some rash zealots, who had endeavoured to disgrace both the received doc- trines and rites. They also com- plained of some bishops who were wanting in their duty to suppress such abuses. This was understood as a reflection on Cranmer, Shax- ton, and Latimer, the first of whom it was thought was now de- clining, in consequence of the fall of queen Anne. But all these projects failed, for Cranmer was now fully established in the king's favour; and Cromwell was sent to the convocation, with a message from his majesty, that they should reform the rites and ceremonies of the church accord- ing to the rules set down in scrip- ture, which ought to be preferred to all glosses or decrees of popes. There was one Alesse, a Scotch- man, whom Cromwell entertained in his house, who being appointed to deliver his opinion, shewed that there was no sacrament insti- tuted by Christ but baptism and the Lord's supper. Stokesly an- swered him in a long discourse upon the principles of the school- divinity; upon which Cranmer took occasion to shew the vanity of that sort of learning, and the uncertainty of tradition : and that religion had been so corrupted in the latter ages, that there was no finding out the truth but by resting on the authority of the scriptures. Fox, bishop of Hereford, seconded him, and told them that the world was now awake, and would be no longer imposed on by the niceties and dark terms of the schools ; for the laity now did not only read the scriptures in the vulgar tongues, but searched the originals them- selves ; therefore they must not think to govern them as they had been governed in the times of ig- norance. Among the bishops, Cranmer, Goodrick, Shaxton, La- timer, Fox, Hilsey, and Barlow, pressed the reformation ; but Lee, archbishop of York, Stokesly, Tonstall, Gardiner, Longland, and several others, opposed it as much. The contest would have been much sharper, had not the king sent some articles to be considered of by them, when the following mix- ture of truth and error was agreed upon. 1. That the bishops and preach- ers ought to instruct the people ac- cording to the scriptures, the three creeds, ^ and the four first general councils. 2. That baptism was necessary to salvation, and that children ought to be baptized for the pardon of original sin, and obtaining the Holy Ghost. 3. That penance was necessary to salvation, and that it consisted in confession, contrition, and amendment of life, with the ex- ternal works of charity, to which a lively faith ought to be joined ; and that confession to a priest was necessary where it might be had. 4. That in the eucharist, under the forms of bread and wine, the very flesh and blood of Christ was received. 5. That justification was the re- mission of sins, and a perfect re- novation in Christ; and that not only outward good works, but in- ward holiness, was absolutely ne- cessary. As for the outward cere- monies, the people were to be taught, 1. That it was meet to have images in churches, but they ought to avoid all such superstition as had been usual in times past, and not to worship the image, but only God. 2. That they were to ho- nour the saints, but not to expect those things from them which God only gives. 3. That they might pray to them fortheirjintercession, but all superstitious abuses were to cease ; and if the king should lessen the number of saint's days, they ought to obey him. 4. That the use of the ceremonies^was good, and that they contained many mystical significa- tions that tended to raise the mind towards God; such were vestments in divine worship, holy water, holy bread, the carrying of candles, and palms and ashes, and creeping to the cross^ and hallowing the font, with other exorcisms. 5. That it was good to pray for de- 266 BOOK OF MARTYRS. parted souls, and to have masses and exequies said for them ; but the scriptures having neither de- clared in what place they were, nor what torments they sullered, that was uncertain, and to be left to God ; therefore all the abuses of the pope's pardons, or saying- masses in such and such places, or before such images, were to be put awaj\ These articles were signed by Cromwell, the two archbishops, sixteen bishops, forty abbots and priors, and fifty of the lower house. The king afterwards added a pre- face, declaring the pains that he and the clergy had been at for the removing the ditterences in reli- gion whicJi existed in the nation, and that he approved of these arti- cles, and required all liis subjects to accept them, and he would be thereby encouraged to taice furtlier pains in the like matters for the future. On the publication of these things, the favourers of the refor- mation, though they did not ap- prove of every particular, yet were well pleased to see things brought under examination ; and since some things were at this time changed, they did not doubt but more changes would follow ; they were glad that the scriptures and the ancient creeds were made the standards of the faith, without adding tradition, and that the nature of justiiication and the gospel-covenant was rightly stated; that the immediate worship of images and saints was condemned, and that purgatory was left un- certain : but the necessity of auri- cular confession, and the corporeal presence, the doing reverence to images, and praying to saints, were of hard digestion to them ; yet they rejoiced to see some grosser abuses removed, and a re- formation once set on foot. The popish party, on the other hand, were sorry to see four sacraments passed over in silence, and the trade in masses for the dead put down. At the same time other things were in consultation, though not finished. Cranmer oflered a paper to the king, exhorting him to pro- ceed to further reformation, and that nothing should be determined without clear proofs from scripture, the departing from which had been the occasion of all the errors that had been in the church. Many things were now acknowledged to be erroneous, for which some not long before had sullered death. He therefore proposed several points to be discussed, as, Whe- ther there were a purgatory 1 Whe- ther departed saints ought to be in- vocated, or tradition to be believ- ed? Whether images ought to be considered only as representations of history J and Whether it was lawful for the clergy to marry .' He prayed the king not to give judgment in these points till he heard them well examined: but all this was carried no further at that period. At this time visitors were ap- pointed to survey all the lesser monasteries : they were to exa- mine the state of their rcfcnues and goods, and take inventories of them, and to take their seals into their keeping ; they were to try how many of the religious would return to a secular course of life ; and these were to be sent to the archbishop of Canterbury, or the lord chancellor, and an allowance was to be given them for their journey; but those who intended to continue in that state were to be removed to some of the great monasteries. A pension was also to be assigned to the abbot or prior during life ; and the visitors were particularly to examine what leases had been made during the last year. Tea thousand of the religious were by this means driven to seek for their livings, with forty shillings, and a gown a man. Their goods and plate were estimat- ed at£100,000. and the valued rents of their houses was £32,000 ; but they weie above ten times as much. The churches and cloisters were in most places pulled down, and the materials sold. PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 267 This procedure gave great dis- conlent ; and the monks were now as niucli pitied, as they were for- merly hated. The no!)iiity and gentry, who provided lor their younger children or friends by putting tliem in those sanctuaries, were sensible of their loss. The people, who as they travelled over the country found abbeys to be places of reception to strangers, _ saw what they were to lose. But the superstitious, who thought their friends must now lie still in purgatory, without relief from tlie masses, were out of measure of- fended. But to remove this dis- content, Cromwell advised the king to sell the.se lands at very easy rates to the nobility and gentry, and to oblige them to keep up the wonted hospitality. This would both be grateful to them, and would engage them to assist the crown in the maintenance of the changes that had been made, since their own interests would be interwoven with those of their sovereign. And, a clause in the act empower- ing the king to found anew such houses as he should think fit, there were fifteen monasteries and six- teen nunneries newly founded. These were bound to obey such rules as the king should send them, and to pay him tenths and first- fruits. But all this did not pacify the people, for there was still a great outcry. The clergy studied much to intlame the nation, and urged, that an heretical prince, deposed by the pope, was no more to be acknowledged ; and that it was a part of the papal power to depose kings, and give away their dominions. There were some injunctions given out by Cromwell, which in- creased this discontent. All churchmen were required, every Sunday for a quarter of a year, and twice every quarter after that, to preach against the pope's power, and to explain the six articles of the convocation. They were for- bidden to extol images, relics, or pilgrimages ; but to exhort to works of charily. They were alsy required to teach the Lord's prayer, the creed, and the ten command- ments in English, and to explain these carefully, and instruct the children well in them. They were to perform the divine ofiices reve- rently, to study the scriptures much, and be exemplary in their lives. Those who did not reside were to give the fortieth part of their income to the poor, and for every hundred pounds a year they were to maintain a scholar at some gramniar-school, or the university ; and if the parsonage-house was in decay, they were ordered to apply a fifth part of their benefice for repairing it. REBELLIONS IN LINCOLNSHIRE AND IN YORKSHIRE. The people continued quiet till they had got in their harvest ; but in the beginning of October 20,000 rose in Lincolnshire, led by a priest in the disguise of a cobbler. They took an oath to be true to God, the king, and the common- wealth, and sent a statement of their grievances to the king. They complained of some acts of parlia- ment, of suppressing of many re- ligious houses, of mean and ill counsellors, and bad bishops ; and prayed the king to redress their grievances by tlie advice of the nobility. The king sent the duke of Suffolk to raise forces against them, and gave an answer to their petition, in which he treated them with his usual haughtiness, saying that " it belonged not to the rabble to direct princes what counsellors they should choose. The religious houses had been suppressed by law, and the heads of them had undey their hands confessed such horrid scandals, that they were a reproach to the nation ; and as they wasted their rents in riotous living, it was much better to apply them to the common good of the nation ;" finally, he required the insurgents to submit to his mercy, and to de- liver up two hundred of their leaders into the hands of his lieu- tenants. At the same time there was a 268 BOOK OF MARTYRS. more formidable rising in York- shire, which being not far from Scotland, it was feared the rebels would draw assistance from that kingdom ; this inclined Henry to malEe more haste to settle matters in Lincolnshire. He sent them secret assurances of mercy, which wrought on the greatest part, so that they dispersed themselves, while the most obstinate went over to those in Yorkshire. The leader and some others were taken and executed. The distance of those in the North gave them time to rise, and form themselves into some method : one Aske com- manded in chief, and performed his part with great dexterity : their march was called " the Pilgrimage of Grace;" they had in their ban- ners and on their sleeves, a repre- sentation of the five wounds of Christ; they took an oath that they would restore the church, sup- press heretics, preserve the king and his issue, and drive base-born men and ill counsellors from him. They became 40,000 strong in a few days, and forced the arch- bishop of York and the lord Darcy to swear to their covenant, and to go along with them. They besieged Skipton, but the earl of Cumberland made it good against them : sir Ralph Evers held out Scarborough castle, though for twenty days he and his men had no provisions but bread and water. There was also a rising in all the other northern counties, against whom the earl of Shrewsbury made head ; and the king sent several of the nobility to his assistance, and within a few days the duke of Norfolk marched with some troops, and joined him. They possessed themselves of Doncaster, and re- solved to keep that pass till the rest of the king's forces should join them ; for they were not in a con- dition to engage with such num- bers of desperate men ; and it was very likely that if they were beaten, the people who had not yet taken part with the rebels, might have been emboldened by their success to do so. The duke 4 of Norfolk resolved, therefore, to keep close at Doncaster, and let the provisions and courage of his adversaries melt away in inaction. They were now reduced to 10,000, but the king's army was not above 5000. The 'duke of Norfolk pro- posed a treaty ; the insurgents were persuaded to send their peti- tions to the court, and the king sent them a general pardon, ex- cepting six persons by name, and reserving four to be afterwards named ; but this last demand, in- stead of satisfying them, made them more desperate. However, they, in their turn, made demands, which were, that a general pardon should be granted to them ; that a parliament should be held at York, and that courts of justice should be set up there ; that the princess Mary might be restored to her right of succession, and the pope to his wonted jurisdiction ; that the monasteries might be again set up ; that Audley and Cromwell might be removed from the king, and that some of the visitors might be imprisoned for their bribery and extortion. These demands being rejected, the rebels resolved to fall upon the royal troops, and drive them from Doncaster : but heavy rains made the river impassable. The king, at length, sent a long an- swer to their demands ; he assured them he would live and die in the defence of the Christian faith : but " the rabble ought not to pre- scribe to him and to the convoca- tion in that matter." He answered that which concerned the monaste- ries as he had done to the men of Lincolnshire. If they had any just complaints to make of any about him, he was ready to hear them ; but he would not suffer them to direct him what coun- sellors he ought to employ : nor could they judge of the bishops who had been promoted, they not being known to them ; he charged them not to believe lies, nor be led away by incendiaries, but to submit to his mercy. On the 9th eV December he signed a procla- PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 269 mation of pardon without any re- strictions. As soon as this rebellion was quelled, the king went on more re- solutely in his design of suppress- ing the monasteries ; for his suc- cess in crushing so formidable a sedition made him less apprehen- sive of any new commotion. A new visitation was appointed, and many houses which had not been before dissolved, were now suppressed, and many of the great- er abbots were induced to surrender by several motives. Some had been engaged in the late rebellion, and so, to prevent a storm, offered a resignation. Others liked the reformation, and did it on that ac- count; some were found guilty of great disorders in their lives, and to prevent a shameful discovery, offered their houses to the king ; while others had made such wastes and dilapidations, that having taken care of themselves, they were less concerned for others. By these means one hundred and twenty-one houses were this year resigned to the king. In most houses the visitor made the monks sign a confession of their vices and disorders, in which some of them acknowledged their idle- ness, gluttony, and sensuality ; and others, that they were sensible that the manner of their former pretended religion consisted in some dumb ceremonies, by which they were blindly led, having no true knowledge of God's laws. Some resigned in hopes that the king would found them anew ; these favoured the reformation, and intended to convert their houses to better uses, for preach- ing, study, and prayer ; and Lati- mer pressed Cromwell earnestly, that two or three houses might be reserved for such purposes in every county. But it was resolved to suppress all; and although it was thought that these resignations could not be valid, since the in- cumbents had not the property, but only the trust for life of those houses, the parliament afterwards declared them good in law. But some of the clergy escaped not with the surrender of their houses; the abbots of Whalley, Jervaux, Sawley, and Glastonbury, with the priors of Woburn and Burlington, having been deeply implicated in the late commotions, were executed for treason; and many of the Carthusians were put to death for denying the king's su- premacy ; others, suspected of fa- vouring them and of receiving books sent from beyond sea, against the king's proceedings, were imprisoned, and many of them perished in their dungeons. Great complaints were made of the visitors ; and it was said, that they had in many places embezzled much of the plate to their own use ; and had been guilty of various enormities under the pretext of discharging their duty. They, on the other hand, published accounts of many of the vile practices which they found in those houses, so that several books were printed upon this occasion. Yet all these ac- counts had not much weight with the people. They deemed it un- reasonable to extinguish noble foundations for the fault of some individuals: therefore another way was taken, which had a better effect. IMPOSTURES OF IMAGES AND RE- LICS DISCOVERED. They disclosed to the world many impostures about pretended relics, and wonderful images, to which pilgrimages had been made. At Reading was preserved the wing of an angel, who, according to the monks, brought over the point of the spear that pierced our Saviour's side ; and as many pieces of the real cross were found, as when joined together would have made half a dozen. The " Rood of Grace" at Boxley in Kent, had been much esteemed, and drawn many pilgrims to it, on account of its possessing the won- derful powers of bowing its head, rolling its eyes, smiling, and frowning, to the great astonishment and terror of the credulous multi- tude, who imputed it to a divine power: but all this was now disco- 270 BOOK OF Mx\RTYRS. vered to be a cheat, and it was broiiglit up to SL Paul's cross; where all the springrs were shown by which its motions were go- verned. At Hales, in Gloucestershire, some of the blood of Christ was shown in a vial ; and it was be- lieved, that none could see it who were in mortal sin. Those who could bestow liberal presents were, of course, gratified, by bein^ led to believe, that they were in a state of grace. This miracle consisted in the blood of a duck renewed every week, put in a vial very thick on one side, and thin on the other; and either side turned to- wards the pilgrim, as the priests were satisfied or not with his obla- tions. Several other similar im- postures were discovered, which contributed much to the undeceiv- ing of the people. The rich shrine of Thomas k Becket at Canterbury was de- stroyed, and an immense quantity of gold and precious stones, of- fered by the deluded victims of su- perstition in honour of that fac- tious priest, and " saint after the pope's own heart," were confis- cated and carried avv^ay. When these proceedings were known at Rome, the pope imme- diately fulminated against the king all the thunders of his spiritual store-house ; absolved his sub- jects from their allegiance, and his allies from their treaties with him ; and exhorted all Christians to make war against and extirpate him from the face of the earth. But the age of crusades was past, and this display of impotent malice produced only contempt in the minds of the king and his advisers, who steadily proceeded in the great work of reformation; and, the translation of the Bible into English being now completed, it was printed, and ordered to be read in all clinrches, with permis- sion for every person to read it, who might be so disposed. Biit, notwithstanding the king's disagreement with tlie pope on many subjects, there was one point on which they were alike — they were both intolerant, furious bigots; and while the former was excommunicated as an heretic, he was himself equally zealous in rooting out heresy, and burning all who presumed to depart from the standard of faith which he had established. Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, strengthened this disposition of the king, and persuaded him, under the pretext of a zeal for religion, to persecute the Sacramentarists, or those who denied the corporeal presence in the sacrament. MARTYRDOM OF JOHN LAMBERT. In consequence of this determi- nation, .John Lambert, a teacher of languages in London, who had drawn up ten arguments against the tenets of Dr. Taylor, on the above subject, as delivered in a sermon at St. Peter's church, and presented them to the Doctor, was brought before the archbishop's court to defend his writings ; and, having appealed to the king, the royal theologian, who was proud of every occasion of displaying his talents and learning, resolved to hear him in person. He therefore issued a commission, ordering all his nobility and bishops to repair to London, to assist him against heretics. A day was appointed for the disputation, when a great number of persons of all ranks assembled to witness the proceedings, and Lambert was brought from his pri- son by a guard, and placed di- rectly opposite to the king. Henry being seated on his throne, and surrounded by the peers, bishops, and judges, re- garded the prisoner with a stern countenance, and then commanded Day, bishop of Chichester, to state the occasion of the present assem- bly. The bishop made a long oration, stating that, although the king had abolished the papal authority in England, it was not to be supposed that he would allow heretics with impunity to disturb and trouble the 3 '^ PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 271 church of which he was the head. He had therefore determined to punish all schismatics; and being willing to have the advice of his bishops and counsellors on so great an occasion, Had assembled them to hear the arguments in the present case. The oration being concluded, the king ordered Lambert to declare his opinion as to the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, which he did, by denying it to be the body of Christ. The king then commanded Cran- mer to refute his assertion, which the latter attempted: but was in- terrupted by Gardiner, who vehe- mently interposed, and, being un- able to bring argument to his aid, sought by abuse and virulence to overpower his antagonist, who was not allowed to answer the taunts and insults of the bishop. Tonstal and Stokesly followed in the same course, and Lambert, beginning to answer thera, was si- lenced by the king. The other bi- shops then each made a speech in confutation of one of Lambert's ar- guments, till the whole ten were an- swered, or rather, railed against; for he was not permitted to defend them, however misrepresented. At last, when the day was passed, and torches began to be lighted, the king desiring to break up this pretended disputation, said to Lambert, " What sayest thou now, after all these great labours which thou hast taken upon thee, and all the reasons and instruc- tions of these learned men? Art thou not yet satisfied? Wilt thou live or die? What sayest thou? Thou hast yet free choice." Lambert answered, " I yield and submit myself wholly unto the will of your majesty." " Then," said the king, '' commit thyself unto the hands of God, and not unto mine." Lambert replied, " I commend my soul unto the hands of God, but my body I wholly yield and submit unto your clemency." To which the king answered, " If you do commit yourself unto my judg- ment, you must die, for I will not be a patron unto heretics ;" and, turning to Cromwell, he said, " Read the sentence of condem- nation against him," which he ac- cordingly did. Upon the day appointed for this holy martyr to ' suller, he was brought out of the prison at eight o'clock in the morning to the house of Cromwell, and carried into his inner chamber, where, it is said, Cromwell desired his forgiveness- for what he had done. Lambert being at last admonished that the hour of his death was at hand, and being brought out of the chamber, into the hall, saluted the gentle- men present, and sat down to breakfast with them, shewing nei- ther sadness nor fear. When breakfast was ended, he was car- ried straight to the place of execu- tion at Sraithfieid. The rjanner of his death was dreadful ; for after his legs were consumed and burned up to the stumps, and but a small fire was left under him, two of the inhuman monsters who stood on each side of him, pierced him vdth their halberts, and lifted him up as far as the chain would reach ; while he, raising his half consumed hands, cried unto the people in these words : " None but Christ, none but Christ ;" and so being let down again from their halberts, fell into the fire and there ended his life. The popish party greatly tri- umphed at this event, and endea- voured to improve it. They per- suaded the king of the good eflects it would have on his people, who would in this see his zeal for the faith ; and they forgot not to mag- nify all that he had said, as if it had been uttered by an oracle, which proved him to be both " De- fender of the Faith, and Supreme Head of the Church." All this wrought so much on the king, that he resolved to call a parliament for the contradictory purposes of suppressing the still remaining monasteries, and extirpating the " new opinions/' 274 BOOK OF MARTYRS. THE ACT OF THE SIX ARTICLES. The parliament accordingly met on the 28th of April, 1538 ; and after long debates, passed what was called " a bill of religion," con- taining six articles, by which it was declared, that the elements in the sacrament were the real body and blood of Christ; that communion was necessary only in one kind ; that priests ought not to marry ; that vows of chastity ought to be observed ; that private masses were lawful and useful ; and that auricular confession was necessary. This act gave great satisfaction to the popish party, and induced them to consent more readily to the act for suppressing the monas- teries, which immediately followed; by virtue of which, their total dis- solution soon after took place. The king founded six new bishop- rics from a small portion of their immense revenues, and lavished the remainder on his profligate courtiers and favourites. In 1540 a bill was passed for the suppression ©f the knights of St. John of Jerusalem, both in Eng- land and Ireland. FALL OF CROMWELL. In this year also, Cromwell, who bad so long been a favourite of the king, and had held the highest offices, was suddenly disgraced, and committed to the Tower. He had many enemies; the nobility, from jealousy at beholding a man of obscure birth promoted to the peerage, and enjoying great power and influence ; and the popish clergy, from the belief that the suppression of the monasteries and the innovations on their religion were principally produced by his counsels. The fickle tyrant whom he had so long and faithfully serv- ed, was also displeased with him as the adviser of his marriage with Anne of Cleves, whom he was now anxious to get rid of, in order to obtain the hand of Catherine Howard, niece of the duke of Nor- folk. He suspected him likewise of secretly encouraging an oppo- sition to the six articles, and hoped, by sacrificing a man who was ob- noxious to the Catholics, to regain their afiections, forfeited by his sanguinary and rapacious proceed- ings. Cromwell experienced the com- mon fate of fallen ministers ; his pretended friends forsook him, and his enemies pursued their revenge against him without opposition, ex- cept from Cranmer, who, with a rare fidelity, dared to avow an at- tachment to him, even at this time,- and wrote a very earnest letter to the king in his favour. But Henry was not easily turned from his purpose, and being resolved on the ruin of Cromwell, was not to be dissuaded from his design. In the house of lords a bill of attainder was passed with the most indecent haste ; but in the com- mons it met with opposition, and after a delay of ten days, a new bill was framed, and sent up to the . lords, in which Cromwell was de- signated as " the most corrupt trai- tor ever known ;" his treasons, as af- terwards specified, consisting in the countenance and favour he had shown to the reformers. On these grounds he was attainted both for treason and heresy. The king now proceeded with his divorce ; and, although there was no reason to dispute the le- gality of his marriage with Anne of Cleves, still, as she was disa- greeable to his royal taste, his sycophants were too well taught to olfer the least opposition to his wishes. The convocation unani-^ uiously dissolved the marriage, and gave him liberty to marry again ; indeed it is probable that if he had desired to have two or more wives at once, the measure would have been sanctioned, so base and servile were the courtiers and priests by whom this monstrous tyrant was surrounded. The queen continued to reside in England, being declared " the adopted sis- ter" of the king, and having a pen- sion of £4000 per annum. Cromwell was executed on the 28th of July, and his fall gave a PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 273 great check to the reformation in England ; Cranmer beina^ left al- most alone to struggle against a host of enemies. The bishops now published a new " book of religion," in which they settled the standard of the national faith ; and althougii the reformers were justly dissatislicd with many parts of it, yet with other parts they saw more reason to be content: many superstitious practices were condemned in it, and the gospel covenant was right- ly stated ; every national church was also declared to be a complete body in itself, with power to reform heresies, and do every thing ne- cessary for the preservation of its purity, and the government of its members. The clergy now, elated by the victory which they had gained by the death of Cromwell, persuaded the king to new severities against the reformers ; and three eminent preachers. Dr. Barnes, Gerard, and Jerome, were picked out for sacrifices on this occasion. Peter, a Christian of' Lampsaciis, snrrely h&itni and iifteru^ards put to death, for refusing to sacrifice to Venus, A, D. 250. MARTYRDOM OF DR. RORERT BARNES. Pr. Barnes was educated in the university of Louvain, in Brabant. On his return to England he went to Cambridge, where he was made prior and master of the house of the Augustiues. The darkest ig- norance pervaded the university, at the time of his arrival there ; FOX'S MARTYRS. but he, zealous to promote know- ledge and truth, began to instruct the students in the classical lan- guages, and, with the assistance of Parnel his scholar, whom he had brought from Louvain, soon caus- ed learniiig to llourish, and the university to bear a very diflerent aspect. These foundations being laid, he began to read openly the epis- 18 274 BOOK OF MARTYRS. ties of St. Paul, and to teach in j!;reater purity the doctrine of Christ. He preached and disputed with great warmth against the lux- uries of the higher clergy, particu- larly against cardinal Wolsey, and the lamentable hypocrisy of the times. But still he remained igno- rant of the great cause of these evils, namely, the^ idolatry and su- perstition of the church ; and while he declaimed against the stream, he himself drank at the spring, and bowed down to idols. At length, happily becoming acquaint- ed with Bilney, he was by that martyr wholly converted unto Christ. The first sermon he preached of this truth was on the Sunday before Christmas-day, at St. Edward's church, in Cambridge. His theme was the epistle of the same Sun- day, " Gaudete in Domino," &c. For this sermon he was immedi- ately accused of heresy by two fellows of King's Hall, before the vice-chancellor. Then Dr. Notto- ris, a bitter enemy to Christ, moved Barnes to recant; but he refused, as appears in his book which he wrote to king Henry in English, confuting the judgment of cardinal Wolsey, and the residue of the papistical bishops. After preaching some time, Barnes vpas arrested openly in the convocation-house ; brought to London, and the next morning carried to the palace of cardinal Wolsey, at Westminster, where, after waiting the whole day, he was at night brought before the cardinal in his chamber of state. "Is this," said Wolsey, "Dr. Barnes, who is accused of heresy?" — " Yes, and please your grace," replied the cardinal's secretary, " and T trust you will find him re- formable, for he is learned and wise." " What, Mr. Doctor," said Wol- sey, " had you not a sufficient scope in the scriptures to teach the people, but that my golden shoes, my poll-axes, my pillars, my golden cushions, my crosses, did BO sore offend you, that you must 3 make us ridiculum caput amongst the people, who that day laughed us to scorn? Verily it was a ser- mon fitter to be preached on a stage than in a pulpit ; for at last you said, ' I wear a pair of red gloves, I should say bloody gloves,' quoth you, ' that I should not be cold in the midst of my ceremo- nies.' " Dr. Barnes answered, " I spake nothing but the truth, out of the scriptures, according to my con- science, and according to the old doctors." And then he delivered him six sheets of paper written, to confirm and corroborate his sen- timents. The cardinal received them smiling, saying, " We perceive then that you intend to stand to your articles, and to shew your learning." " Yea," said Barnes, " that I do by God's grace, with your lord- ship's favour." He answered, " Such as you bear us little favour and the catho- lic church. I will ask you a ques- tion ; whether do you think it more necessary that 1 should have all this royalty, because I represent the king's majesty in all the high courts of this realm, to the terror and keeping down of all rebellious treasons, traitors, all the wicked and corrupt members of this com- monwealth, or to be as simple as you would have us, to sell all these things, and to give them to the poor, who shortly will cast them in the dirt; and to pull away this princely dignity, which is a terror to the wicked, and to follow your counsel ?" " I think it necessary," said Barnes, " to be sold and given to the poor. For this is not becoming your calling ; nor is the king's ma- jesty maintained by your pomp and poll-axes, but by God, who saith, kings and their majesty reign and stand by me." Then answered the cardinal, " Lo, master doctors, here is the learned wise man that you told me of." Then they kneeled down and said, " We desire your grace to be PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 375 good unto him, for he will be re- I'oruiable." "Then," said he, "stand you up; for your sakes and the university we will be good unto him. — How say you, master doctor, do you not know that I am able to dispense in all matters concerning religion within this realm, as much as the pope may ?" He said, " I know it to be so." " Will you then be ruled by us ? and we will do all things for your honesty, and for the honesty of the university." He answered, " I thank your grace for your good will ; I will stick to the holy scripture, and to God's book, according to the simple talent that God hath lent me." " Well," said he, " thou shalt have thy learning tried at the uttermost, and thou shalt have the law." He was then committed to the custody of the sergeant at arms who had brought him to London, and by whom he was the next morning broughtbefore the bishops ; who, on examining the articles of his faith, which he had delivered to the cardinal, asked him if he would sign them, which he did, and was thereupon committed to the Fleet. On the Saturday following he was again brought before the bi- shops, who called upon him to know whether he would abjure or burn. He was then greatly agi- tated, and felt inclined rather to burn than abjure ; but was per- suaded by some persons to abjure, which he at length consented to do, and the abjuration being put into his hand, he abjured as it was there written, and then he sub- scribed it with his own hand ; yet his judges would scarcely receive him into the bosom of the church, as they termed it. Then they put him to an oath, and charged him to do all that they commanded him, which he accordingly promised. He was then again committed to the Fleet ; and the next morning was brought to St. Paul's church, with five others who had abjured. Here the cardinal, bishops, and clergy being assembled in great pomp, the bishop of Rochester preached a sermon against the doctrines of Luther and Barnes, during which the latter was com- manded to kneel down and ask forgiveness of God, and the Ca- tholic church, and the cardinal's grace ; after which he was ordered, at the end of the sermon, to de- clare that he was used more cha- ritably than he deserved, his here- sies being so horrible and so de- testable : once more he kneeled, desiring of the people forgiveness, and to pray for him. This farce being ended, the cardinal departed under a canopy, with the bishops and mitred abbots, who accom- panied him to the outer gate of the church, when they returned. Then Barnes, and the others who had abjured, were carried thrice about the fire, after which they were brought to the bishops, and kneeled down for absolution. The bishop of Rochester standing up, declared that Dr. Barnes with the others were received into the church again. After which they were recommitted to the Fleet during the cardinal's pleasure. Dr. Barnes having remained in the Fleet half a year, was placed in the custody of the Austin Friars in London ; from whence he was removed to the Austin Friars of Northampton, there to be burned ; of which intention, however, he was perfectly ignorant. Being in- formed of the base designs of his enemies, however, he, by a stra- tagem, escaped, and reached Ant- werp, where he dwelt in safety, and was honoured with the friend- ship of the best and most eminent reformers of the time, as Luther, Melancthon, the duke of Saxony, and others. Indeed, so great was his reputation, that the king of Denmark sent him as one of his ambassadors to England ; when sir Thomas More, at that time lord chancellor, wished to have him apprehended on the former charge. Henry, however, would 276 BOOK OF MARTYRS. not allow of this, considering it as a breach of the most sacred laws, to oflfer violence to the person of an ambassador, under any pretence. Barnes therefore remained in England unmolested ; and departed again without re- straint. He returned to Wittem- berg, where he remained to for- ward his works in print which he had begun, after which he returned again to* England, and continued a faithful preacher in London, being well entertained and pro- moted during the ascendency of Anne Boleyn. He was afterwards sent ambassador by Henry to the duke of Cleves, upon the business of the marriage between Anne of Cleves and the king ; and gave great satisfaction in every duty which was intrusted to him. Not long after the arrival of Gar- diner from France, Dr. Barnes and other reformed preachers, were ap- prehended and carried before the king 'at Hampton Court, where Barnes was examined. The king being desirous to bring about an agreement between him and Gar- diner, granted him leave to go home with the bishop to confer with him. But they not agreeing, Gardiner and his party sought to entangle and entrap Barnes and his friends in further danger, which not long after was brought to pass. For, by certain complaints made to the king of them, they were en- joined to preach three sermons the following Easter at the Spittle ; at which sermons, besides other re- porters which were sent thither, Stephen Gardiner also was there present, sitting with the mayor, either to bear record of their re- cantation, or else, as the Pharisees came to Christ, to ensnare them in their talk, if they should speak any thing amiss. Barnes preached first ; and at the conclusion of his sermon, requested Gardiner, if he thought he had said nothing con- tradictory to truth, to hold up his hand in the fece of all present; upon which Gardiner immediately held up his finger. Notwithstand- ing this, they were all three sent for to Hampton Court, whence they were conducted to the Tower, where they remained till they were brought out to death. STORY OF THOMAS GARRET. Thomas Garret was a curate of London. About the year 1526, he came to Oxford, and brought with him sundry books in Latin, treat- ing of the Scriptures, with the first part of Unio dissidentium, and Tin- dal's first translation of the New Testament in English, which books he sold to several scholars in Ox^ ford. After he had been there awhile, and had disposed of those books, news came from London that he was sought for in that city, to be apprehended as a heretic, and to be imprisoned for selling those he- retical publications, as they were termed. For it was not unknown to cardinal Wolsey, the bishop of London, and others, that Mr. Gar- ret had a great number of those books, and that he was gone to Oxford to sell them, to such as he knew to be lovers of the gospel. Wherefore they determined to make a privy search through all Oxford, to apprehend and imprison him, and to burn all his books, and him too if they could. But, happily, one of the proctors gave Mr. Gar- ret secret warning of this privy search, and advised, that he should immediately and privately depart from Oxford. By means of another friend, a cu- racy was procured for him in Dor- setshire, and he set out for that county, but being waylaid by his enemies, was unable to proceed, and therefore returned to Oxford, where he was, on the same night, apprehiended irx his bed, and was ordered, by the commissary of the University, to be confined in his own chamber, till further directions were received respecting him. He escaped in disguise, but was re- taken, and being convicted as a heretic, carried a fagot in token of his abjuration, at St. Mary's church in Oxford ; after .vhich we meet with nothing further respecting hivar PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 277 till his apprehension with Dr. Barnes. STORY OF WILLIAM JEROME. William Jerome was vicar of Stepney, and being convinced of, and disgusted at, the errors of the church of Rome, he preached with great zeal, and set up the pure and simple doctrines of the gospel against the perversions and tradi- tions of man. Thus proceeding, he soon became known to the enemies of truth, who watched him with ma- lignant jealousy. At length, in a sermon at St. Paurs,on the fourth Sunday in Lent, wherein he dwelt upon the justifi- cation by faith, he so offended the legal preachers of the day, that he was summoned before the king at Westminster, and there accused of heresy. It was urged against him, that he had insisted, according to St. Paul, in Galatians iv. " That the children of Sara (allegorically used for the children of the promise) were all born free, and, indepen- dent of baptism, or of penance, were, through faith, made heirs of God." A r>r. Wilson argued against him, and strongly opposed this doctrine. But Jerome defend- ed it with all the force of truth, and said, " that although good works were the means of salvation, yet that they followed as a consequence of faith, whose fruits they were, and which discovered their root, even as good fruit prove a good tree." Notwitlistanding his arguments, so inveterate were his enemies, and so deluded was the king, that he M as committed to the Tower, in company with the other two sol- diers of Christ, Barnes and Garret. BURNING OF BARNES, GARRET, AND JEROME. Here they remained, while a pro- cess ensued against them by the king's council in parliament, by whom, without any hearing, or knowledge of their fate, they were attainted of heresy, and sentenced to be burned. On the 30th of the following June, therefore, they were brought from the Tower to Smith- field, where, before they were com- mitted to the fire, they addressed the peeple. " I am come hither," said Dr. Barnes, " to be burned as a he- retic, and you shall hear ray belief, whereby you may perceive what erroneous opinions I hold. God I take to record, I never (to my knowledge) taught any erroneous doctrine, but only those things which scripture led me unto ; nei- ther in my sermons have I ever maintained or given occasion for any insun-ection ; but with all dili- gence evermore did I study to set forth the glory of God, ihe obedi- ence to our sovereign lord the king, and the true and sincere religion of Christ ; and now hearken to my faith. " I believe in the holy and bless- ed Trinity, three persons, and one God, that created and made all the world ; and that this blessed Trinity sent down the second per- son, Jesus Christ, into the womb of the most blessed and purest virgin Mary. I believe, that he was con- ceived by the Holy Ghost, and took flesh of her, and that he sufiered hunger, thirst, cold, and other pas- sions of our body, sin excepted, according to the saying of St. Pe- ter, ' He was made in all things like to his brethren, except sin.' And I believe that this his death and passion was the sufficient ran- som for sin. And I believe that tlvrough his death he overcame sin, death, and hell; and that there is none other satisfaction unto the Father, but this his death and pas- sion only; and that no work of man did deserve any thing of God, but his passion only, as touching our justification ; for I know the best work that ever I performed is im- pure and imperfect." He then, lifting up his hands, prayed God to forgive him his tres- passes, saying, " I confess, that my evil thoughts and cogitations are innumerable ; wherefore I be- seech thee, O Lord, not to enter into judgment with me, for, if thpu 278 BOOK OF MARTYRS. straitly mark our iiuquities, who is able to abide thy judgment ? Wherefore, I trust in no good work that ever I did, but only in the death of Christ. I do not doubt but through him to inherit the king- dom of heaven. But imagine not, that T speak against good works, for they are to be done, and verily they that do them not, shall never come into the kingdom of God. We must do them, because tliey are commanded us of God, to sliew and set forth our profession, not to deserve or merit ; for that is only by the death of Christ. " I believe that there is a holy church, and a company of all them that do profess Christ; and that all who have suffered and confessed his name, are saints, and that they praise and laud God in heaven, more than I or any man's tongue can exj)ress," A person present asked him his opinion upon praying to saints. " I believe," said he, " they are in heaven with God, and that they are worthy of all the honour that scripture willeth them to have. But I say, throughout scripture we arc not commanded to pray to any saints. Therefore I neither can nor will preach to you that saints ought to be prayed unto ; for then should I preach unto you a doc- trine of mine own head. Notwith- standing, whether they pray for us or no, that I refer to God. And if saints do pray for ns, then I trust to pray for you within this half hour, Mr. Sheriff, and for every Christian living in the faith of Christ, and dying in the same as a saint. Wherefore, if the dead may for the quick, I will surely pray for you." Then said he to the sheriff, *' Have ye any articles against me for which I am condemned V The sheriff answered, " No." Then said he, " Is there here any man else that knoweth wherefore I die, or that by my preaching hath taken any error? Let them now speak, and I will make them answer." Bufejio man answered. Then said he, ^' Well;, I am condemned by the law to die, and as I understand by an act of parliament, but where- fore I cannot tell ; perhaps it is for heresy; for we are like to burn. But they that have been the occa- sion of it, I pray God forgive them, as I would be forgiven myself. And Dr. Stephen, bishop of Win- chester, if he have sought or wrought this my death, either by word or deed, I pray God to for- give him as heartily, as freely, as charitably, and as sincerely, as Christ forgave them that put him to death. And if any of the coun- cil, or any other, have sought or wrought it through malice or ig- norance, I pray God forgive their ignorance, and illuminate their eyes, that they may see and ask mercy for it. I beseech you all to pray for the king's grace, as I have done ever since T was in prison, and do now, that God may give him prosperity, and that he may long reign among you; and after him that godly prince Edward, that he may finish those thing?; which his father hath begun. I have been reported to be a preacher of sedi- tion, and disobedience unto the king ; but here I say to you, that you are all bound by the command- ment of God to obey your prince with all humility, and with all your heart, and that not only for fear of the sword, but also for conscience sake before God." He then begged all men to for- give him ; to bear witness that he detested and abhorred all evil opi- nions and doctrines against the word of God, and that he died in the faith of Jesus Christ, by whom he doubted not but to be saved. With these words, he desired all the spectators to pray for him, and then he prepared himself to suffer. Jerome and Garret, professed in like manner their belief, reciting all the articles of the Christian faith, briefly declaring their minds upon every article, as the time would suf- fer,whereby the people might under- stand that there was no cause nor error in their faith for which they could justly be condemned ; pro- testing, moreover, that they denied PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 279 nothing that was either in the Old or New Testament, set forth by the king, wlioni tliey prayed the Lord long to continue amongst them, with his son prince Edward. Jerome then addressed the peo- ple as follows : " I say unto you, good brethren, that God hath bought us all with no small price, neither with gold nor silver, orotiier such things of small value, but with his most precious blood. Be not unthankful therefore to him again, but do as much as to Christian men belongeth to fulfil his command- ments ; that is, love your brethren. Love hurteth no man, love fulfilleth all things. If God hath sent thee plenty, help thy neighbour that hath need. Give him good coun- sel. If he lack, consider, if tiiou wert in necessity, thou wouldst gladly be refreshed. And again, iiear your cross with Christ. Con- sider what reproof, slander, and re- proach, he suffered of his enemies, and how patiently he suffered all things. Consider, that all that Christ did was of his mere good- ness, and not of our deserving. For if we could merit our own sal- vation, Christ would not have died for us. But for Adam's breaking of God's precepts, we had been all lost, if Christ had not redeemed us again. And like as Adam broke the precepts, and was driven out of Paradise, so we, if we break God's commandments, shall have damna- tion, if we do not repent and ask mercy. Now, therefore, let all Christians put no trust nor confi- dence in tlieir works, but in the blood of Christ, to whom I commit my soul to guide, beseeching you all to pray to God for me, and for my brethren here present with me, that our souls, leaving these wretch- ed bodies, may constantly depart in the true faith of Christ." After he had concluded. Garret thus spoke: " I also detest and re- fuse all heresies and errors, and if, either by negligence or ignorance, I have taught or maintained any, I am sorry for it, and ask God mercy. Or if I have been vehe- ment or rash in preaching, whereby any person hath taken any offence, error, or evil opinion, L desire of him, and all other persons whom I have any way offended, forgive- ness. Notwithstanding, to my re- membrance, I have never preached, wittingly or willingly, any thing against God's holy word, or con- trary to the true faith.; but have ever endeavoured, with my little learning and wit, to set forth the honour of God and the right obe- dience to his laws, and also the king's: if I could have done better, I would. Wherefore, Lord, if I have taken in hand to do that thing which I could not perfectly per- form, I desire thy pardon for my bold presumption. And I pray God send the king's grace good and godly counsel, to his glory, to the king's honour, and the increase of virtue in this realm. And thus do I now yield my soul up unto Al- mighty God, trusting and believ- ing, that he, of his infinite mercy, according to his promise made in the blood of his Son, Jesus Christ, will take it, and pardon all my sins, of which I ask him mercy, and desire you all to pray with and for me, that I may patiently suffer this pain, and die in true faith, hope, and charity." The three martyrs then toojc each other by the hand, and, after embracing, submitted themselves to the tormentors, who, fastening them to the stake, soon lighted the fagots, and terminated their mortal life and care. MARTYRDOM OF BERNARD AND MERTON. About this time also sufiered Thomas Bernard and James Mer- ton. The offence of Bernard was the teaching the Lord's Prayer iu English; that of Merton, his keep- ing an English translation of the epistle of St. James. They were taken up at the instigation of Long- land, bishop of Lincoln, condemn- ed, and burned. EXECUTION OF QUEEN CATHERINE HOWARD. The king was greatly delighted 280 BOOK OF MARTYRS. with the cbarms of Catl)«rine Howard, his fifth wife, and even gave public thanks to God for the excellent choice he had made. But his opinion was soon altered, and not without reason; for she was convicted, on the clearest evi- dence, and bj' her own confession, of gross lewdness and debauchery, with several persons ; and was be- headed, with lady Rochford, her principal accomplice and confi- dant, February 14th, 1541. The latter, it will be recollected, was the chief instrument in the destruc- tion of Anne Boleyn, and her fate was considered as a divine judg- ment on her baseness and false- hood to that injured queen. The king, exasperated by the disappointment of his hopes, pro- cured an attainder against the pa- rents and relatives of Catherine, for not informing him of what they, perhaps, were themselves ignorant of; and it was made treason to con- ceal any matter of the kind from the king in future, as well on the part of relatives and other persons, as by the lady herself, whom he might intend to honour with his hand. The barbarous severity and injustice of these acts was felt, but durst not be murmured against, so absolute a tyranny had Henry established in his kingdom. After remaining a widower about two years, he contracted a sixth marriage, M'ith Catherine Parr, widow of lord Latimer, who was in secret a friend to the reforma- tion, but, dreading the fate of her predecessors, dissembled her par- tiality for the true faith. ATTEMPTS TO SUPPRESS THE BIBLE. Great pains had been taken by the bishops to suppress the Eng- lish Bible. The king refused to call it in, and they therefore com- plained much of the translation, which they wished to have con- demned, and a new one promised, which might have been delayed during several years. Cranmer perceiving that the Bible was the great eye-sore of the popish party, and that they were resolved to op- pose it by all the means they could think of, procured an order from the king, referring the correction of the translation to the two uni- versities. The bishops took this very ill, and all of them, except those of Ely and St. David's, pro- tested against it. METHOD OF PREACHING. In former times there had been few or no sermons, except in Lent; for on holy days the ser- mons were panegyrics on the saints, and on the virtues of their pretended relics. But in Lent there was a more solemn way of preaching; and the friars main- tained their credit much by the pathetic sermons they preached in that time, and by which they wrought much on the passions of the people ; yet even these for the most part tended to extol fasting, confession, and other austerities, with very little of the true simpli- city of Christianity, or the Scrip- tures; and were designed rather to raise a sudden heat, than to work a real change in their audi- tors. They had also mixed so much out of the legends with their sermons, that the people at length disbelieved all they said, on ac- count of those fabulous things with which their sermons were de- based. The reformers, on the other hand, took great care to instruct their hearers in the fundamentals of religion, of which they had known little formerly: this made the nation follow those teachers with a wonderful zeal; but some of them mixed more sharpness against the friars in their sermons, than was consistent with the mild spirit of Christianity, although the hypocrisy and cheats of their an- tagonists did in a great measure excuse those heats; and it was observed that our Saviour had ex- posed the Pharisees in so plain a manner, that it justified the treat- ing them with some roughneiss. This made it seem necessary to sufler none to preach, at least out PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 281 of t!ieir own parishes, without li- cence, and many were licensed to preach as itinerants. There was also a book of homilies on all the epistlesand ^ospels.in the year, pub- lished, which contained a plain para- phrase of those parts of scripture, tO!j;ethcr with some practical exhor- tations founded on them. Many complaints were made of those who were licensed to preach, and that they mif^ht be able to justify them- selves, they began o^enerally to write and read their sermons ; and thus did this custom begin. AN ACT CONCERNING RELIGION. In 1543, a bill was proposed by Cranmer, for the advancement of true religion, which was much op- posed, and those who at first joined him afterwards forsook him; so that it was much altered for the worse in its progress. By it Tindal's trans- lation of the Bible was condemned, and also all other books contrary to the doctrine set forth by the bishops. Bibles, of another transla- tion, were still allowed to be kept, but all prefaces or annotations to them, were to be expunged ; all the king's injunctions were confirmed ; no books of religion were to be printed without licence; there was to be no exposition of scripture in plays or interludes* ; none of the laity might read the scripture, or * It had been, during several centuries, a custom to dramatize certain portions of scripture, which were represented by the monks themselves, as well as by other per- sons, under the title of Mysteries; and many of these performances were highly profane and indecorous. Butthe "plays and interludes" alluded to in the above- mentioned act, appear to have been bur- lesque representations of the mummeries of the church of Rome, ridiculous enough in themselves, but rendered more palpa- bly so by this method of treating them. As, however, the ridicule which was pointed at the abuses of religion, might, by malice or ignorance, be transferred to what is really sacred, these representations were properly condemned, both by Catholics and Protestants, and the Reformers trusted to the growing intellect of the age for the condemnation of what was blamable, and the preservation of what was praisewor- thy, in the ritual of the church. explain it in any public assembly ; but a proviso was made for public speeches, which then began gene- rally with a text of scripture, and were like sermons. Noblemen, gen- tlemen and their wives, or mer- chants, might have Bibles ; but no ordinary woman, tradesman, ap- prentice, or husbandman, was al- lowed to retain any*. Every per- son might have the book published by the bishops, the psalter, and other rudiments of religion, in Eng- lish. All churchmen, who preached contrary to that book, for the first oflience, were required to recant ; for the second, to abjure and carry a fagot; but, for the third, they were to be burnt. The laity, f(V, the third oflfence, were to forfe;,* their goods and chattels, and to be liable to perpetual imprisonment. The parties accused were not al- lowed witnesses for their purgation. The act of the six articles was con- firmed, and it was left free to the king, to change this act, or any pro- viso in it. There was also a new act passed, giving authority to the king's proclamations, and any nine privy counsellors were empowered to proceed against offenders. — Against this the lord Mountjoy dis- sented, and it is the only instance of any nobleman having the courage to protest against the innumerable legislative iniquities of this reign. * By this proviso it would appear that these bigots wished religion to be confined to the" nobility, gentry, and merchants," to the exclusion of the poor and bumble mechanic and labourer. Did they ima- gine that the kingdom of heaven was the exclusive property of those favoured be- ings ; and that, because they dwelt in earthly palaces, they must of necessity be received into heavenly mansions ? Did they not know that our' blessed Saviotr selected his most eminent apostles and disciples from among those despised classes, whom they considered unworthy even to hear his gracious word ? Let us, of the present generation, praise our hea- venly Father, who has cast our lot in a period when the knowledge of his pro- mises,and the possession of his Scriptures are not confined to the " mighty of this earth," but form the treasure of every coU tage, and the solace and support of the lowliest of mankind. 282 BOOK OF MARTYRS. . PERfiECUTION OF ROBEKT TE&T- WOOD. Robert Testwoop, a musician, of London, had, by his great skill in that science, attained so great a name, that he was admitted among the choir of the college of Windsor, and was, for some time, much es- teemed by the dean and canons ; but when they perceived that he leaned to Luther's sect, they began to dislike him. He happened one day to be at dinner with Dr. Raw- son, one of the canons, at which dinner was a Mr. Ely, an old ba- chelor of divinity. Mr. Ely began to rail against laymen, who took upon them to meddle with the scrip- lo^es, and to be better learned, k 'lowing only the English tongue, thkh they who had been students in the universities of Oxford and Cambridge. Testwood, perceiving his allusion, said, " Mr. Ely, by your patience, I think it be no hurt for laymen, as I am, to read and to know the scriptures." " Which of you," cried Ely, " that be unlearned, knowcth them, orun- derstandeth them? St. Paul saith, ' If thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if hethirst, give him drink ; and in so doing thou shalt heap coals of lire upon his head.' Now, sir," continued he, " what meaneth St. Paul by those coals of fire?" — *' Marry, sir," replied Testwood, " he meaneth nothing else by them (as I have learned) but burning charity, that by doing good to our enemies we should thereby win them." — " Ah, sirrah," said Ely, ** you are an old scholar indeed !" After this they conversed about the pope, whose supremacy was much spoken of at that time, and ETy demanded of Testwood, whe- ther the pope ought to be the head of their church or no ? when the latter, after some argument, said, " That every king, in his own realm and dominion, ought to be the head of the church under Christ." At which words Ely rose from the table in a great passion, calling him heretic; and so left the room. Testwood was very sorry to see him so much disturbed ; and after dinner he went and sought him, and found him walking in the body of the church. Testwood wisLed to have reasoned the matter coolly with him, but the other shunned him, and would not come nigh him, but spit at him ; saying to others that walked by, " Beware of this fellow, for he is the greatest here- tic and schismatic that ever came into Windsor." Ely made his complaint to the other canons, who were all against Testwood, and intended, at the dean's coming home, to have ac- cused him ; but in a few days after, the act confirming the king's supre- macy, passed in the parliament. Whereupon the dean. Dr. Sampson, returned suddenly in the night, and sent his verger about to all the ca- nons, and ministers of the college, commanding them to be in the Chap- ter-house bj' eight o'clock in the morning. Then Ely consulted with the canons, and they agreed the next day to accuse Testwood. "But he that layeth a snare for another man," saith Solomon, " shall be taken in it himself." And so it hap- pened in this instance. For when all were assembled in the Chapter- house, the dean began, contrary to every man's expectation, to inveigh against the bishop of Rome's su- premacy and usurped authority, confounding the same by scripture and reason ; and at length declared openly, that, by consent of the par- liament, the pope's supremacy was utterly abolished out of England for ever ; and so commanded every man there, upon his allegiance, to call him pope no more, but bishop of Rome, and whoever would not do so, or did henceforward maintain or favour his cause in any manner should not only lose the benefit of that house, but be reputed as an utter enemy to God, and to the king. The canons hearing this, were all thunderstruck. Yet, notwithstand- ing this, Ely was so incensed against Testwood, that he began to tell his tale ; but the dean, interrupt- ing him, called him an old fool, and PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 283 obligred likn to hold his peace. He then caused all the pope's pardons wliich hung about the church to be brought into tlie Chapter-house, and burnt. After this, as Testwood was one day walking in the church, he be- held many pilgrims making their offerings to certain images and shrines ; upon which he reproved them for their idolatry, and exhorted them to worship the true God ; and to shew them the utter helpnessness of those deities of wood and stone, whom they looked upon as so pow- erful, he stmck off the nose of one of the images, and showing it to the credulous worshippers, '* Lo, good people, said he, " you see what it is, nothing but earth and dust, and can- not help itself : and how then will you have it to help you? For God's sake, brethren, be no more de- ceived." This action gave great offence to the priests, and not less to the image dealers, for both foresaw the ruin of their trade, if such conduct went unpunished. They even threat- ened Testwood's life, who there- upon refused to quit his house, but wrote an account of the whole mat- ter to Cromwell, then high in favour with the king. The canons, fearing the resentment of Cromwell, used all means to be reconciled with Testwood, and at length prevailed, by the intercession of Mr. Ward, a magistrate, so that no further no- tice was taken of the affair, and Testwood did his duty in the church as before. He was still, however, looked upon as a heretic, and his resolute manifestation, on various occasions, of his abhorrence of po- pery and idolatry, and his love for the doctrines of the reformers, kept alive the resentment of his enemies, and at length produced his martyr- dom, as will be shewn hereafter. PERSECUTION OF ANTHONY PEAR- SON, AND OTHERS. Anthony Pearson was a priest, who, about 1540, preached at Wind- sor, and the neighbourhood, and was much esteemed by the lovers of the Gospel, who resorted in grecCt numbers to hear him. This gave offence to the popish priesls and their followers ; and Dr. London, a violent bigot, one of the preben- daries of Windsor, with Simons, an attorney, who had before accused Testwood, for defacing the image, particularly distinguished them- selves by their unceasing efforts to establish a charge of heresy against Pearson, and his friends. With this view, they made notes of some of his sermons against the idolatry of the mass, and other abomina- tions of the church of Rome ; they then fixed on several persons to be accused as the principal abettors of what they call ed his heretical do- trines, among whom were sir W. Hobby, sir T. Cardine, Dr. Haynes, dean of Exeter, and others ; they also employed spies to report the names of those persons who did not kneel at the elevation of the host, &c. ; and having collected all these-particulars. Dr. London for- warded the account to Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, with a com- plaint of " the great disquietude, brought upon the members of the true chureh, by the evil doctrines and example of these pernicious heretics," and a request, that his lordship would " assist them in purg- ing the town and castle of such wicked persons." The bishop commended their zeal, and promised his assistance ; and, in pursuance of his promise, repre- sented to the king, that the heretics had spread throughout the realm, and were to be found even in his own chapel; he, therefore, be- sought his majesty, that he might have leave to enforce the laws against them ; to which the king consented. The bishop immedi- ately procured a commission for searching the houses of those who had been accused by Dr. London, with the view of finding prohibited books and papers. Commissioners were appointed, and commenced their search ; in the course of which, finding certain books and writings against the six articles in the houses of Testwood, Benet, Marbeck, and Filmer, those persons were appre- 284 BOOK OF MARTYRS. bended, jsent to London, (except Testwood, who was confined to his room by illness,) examined before the council, and committed to pri- son. Marbeck was five times exa- mined, before the council ; the bi- shop of Winchester ; one of the bishop's gentlemen ; the bishops of Salisbury, Hereford, and Ely; Dr. Knight, and the bishop of Win- chester's secretary. Throughout these examinations he defended the cause of truth with a spirit and boldness which confounded his ac- curers, but could not turn them from their cruel and bigoted purposes. Marbeck had begun a Concord- ance of the Bible, in English, which was taken with his other papers, and laid before the council. The bishop ot Winchester asked him if he understood Latin, and would scarcely believe that he did not ; telling the other lords of the coun- cil, that it was probable his Con- cordance was a translation from the Latin, and asserting that " if such a book should go forth in English, it would destroy the Latin tongue." Marbeck was much pressed to diclose " the secrets of his party," and promised great rewards and preferment, if he would betray what he had heard of the opinions of Testwood, Pearson, and Haynes, on the mass, &c. He steadily refused all these oflFers, declaring that he knew nothing against them. On his fourth examination, he was told by the bishop of Salis- bury that he must answer on oath, faithfully and truly, to such ques- tions as the commissioners should judge it necessary to put to him ; which he promised to do, and was accordingly sworn. Then the bishop laid before him his three books of notes, demanding whose hand they were. He an- swered they were his own hand, and notes which he had gathered out of other men's works six years ago. " For what cause," said the bishop, " didst thou gather them ?" — " For no other cause, my lord, 4 but to come to knowledge. For I being unlearned, and desirous to understand some part of scrip- ture, thought by reading of learned men's works to come the sooner thereby : and where I found any place of scripture opened and ex- pounded by them, that I noted, as ye see, with a letter of his name in the margin, that had set out the work." — " So methinks," said the bishop of Ely, who had one of the books of notes in his hand all the time of their sitting, "thou hast read of all sorts of books, both good and bad, as seemeth by the notes." — " So I have, my lord," said Marbeck. " And to what pur- pose 1" said the bishop of Salis- bury. " By my troth," replied Mar- beck, " for no other purpose but to see every man's mind." Then the bishop of Salisbury drew out a quire of the Concordance, and laid it before the bishop of Here- ford, who looking upon it awhile, lifted up his eyes to Dr. Oking, standing next him, and said, " This man hath been better occupied than a great many of our priests." Then said the bishop of Salis- bury, " Whose help hadst thou in setting forth this book?"—" Truly, my lord," replied Marbeck, " no help at all." — " How couldst thou," said the bishop, "invent such a book, or know what a Concordance meant, without an instructor?" — " I will tell you, my lord," said the prisoner, "what instructor > I had to begin it. When Thomas Matthew's Bible came out in print, I was much desirous to have one of them ; and being a poor man, not able to buy one of them, de- termined with myself to borrow one amongst my friends, and to write it forth. And when I had written out the five books of Moses in fair great paper, and was en- tered into the book of Joshua, my friend Mr. Turner chanced to steal upon me unawares, and seeing me writing out the Bible, asked me what I meant thereby. And when I had told him the cause, ' Tush,' quoth he, ' thou goest about a vain aud tedious labour. But this were PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 285 a profitable work for thee, to set out a Concordance in English.' — ' A Concordance/ said I, ' what is that?' Then he told me it was a book to find out any word in the Bible by the letter, and that there was such an one in Latin already. Then I told hira I had no learnings to go about such a thing. ' Enough,' quoth he, 'for that matter, for it requireth not so much learning as diligence. And seeing thou art so industrious a man, and one that cannot be unoccupied, it were a good exercise for thee.' And this, my lord, is all the instruction that ever I had, before or after, of any man." •'And who is that Turner?" asked the bishop of Salisbury. " Marry," said Dr. May, " an honest and learned man, and a bachelor of divinity, and some time a fellow in Magdalen College, in Oxford." — " How couldstthou," said the bishop of Salisbury, " with this instruction, bring it to this order and form, as it is ?" — " I borrowed a Latin Concord- ance," replied he, " and began to practise, and at last, with great labour and diligence, brought it into this order, as your lordship doth see." — " It is a great pity," said the bishop of Ely, " he had not the Latin tongue." — " Yet T cannot believe," said the bishop of Salisbury, " that he hath done any more in this work than written it out after some other that is learned." " My lords," said Marbeck, " I shall beseech you all to pardon me what I shall say, and grant ray re- quest if it shall seem good unto you." — " Say what thou wilt," said the bishop. — " I do marvel greatly whereof I should be so much ex- amined for this book, and whether I have committed any off"ence in doing of it, or no. If I have, then were I Joth for any other to be molested or pr ished for my fault. Therefore, to clear all men in this matter, this is my request, that ye ■^ill try me in the rest of the book that is undone. Ye see that I am yet but at the letter L, beginning now at M, and take out what word ye will of that letter, and so in every letter following, and give me the words in a piece of paper, and set me in a place alone where it shall please you, with ink and paper, the English Bible, and the Latin Concordance ; and if I bring you not these words written in the same order and form, tliat the rest before is, then was it not I that did it, but some other." " By my truth, Marbeck," cried the bishop of Ely, " that is ho- nestly spoken, and then shalt thou bring many out of suspicion." — This being agreed to by the com- missioners, they bade Dr. Okiug draw out such words as he thought best in a piece of paper, which he did ; and while the bishops were perusing them. Dr. Oking said to Marbeck, in a very friendly man- ner, " Good Mr. Marbeck, make haste, for the sooner you have done, the sooner you shall be de- livered." And as the bishops were going away, the bishop of Here- ford (who, as well as the bishop of Ely, had formerly known the pri- soner, and was in secret his friend) took Marbeck a little aside, and informed him of a word which Dr. Oking had written false, and also, to comfort him, said, " Fear not, there can no law condemn you for any thing that ye have done ; for if you have written a thousand heresies, so long as they be not your sayings nor your opinions, the law cannot hurt you." And so they all went with the bishop of Salisbury to dinner, taking Mar- beck with them, who dined in the hall at the steward's board, and had wine and meat sent down from the bishop's table. When dinner was done, the bishop of Salisbury came down into the hall, commanding ink and paper to be given to Marbeck, and the two books to one of his men to go with him ; at whose going he demanded of the bishop, what time his lordship would appoint him to do it in. " Against to-mor- row this time," replied the bishop, and so departed. 286 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Mai-beck, now beinp in his pri- son-cliamber, fell to his business, and so applied himself, that by the next day, when the bishop sent for him again, he had written so much, in the same order and form he had done the rest before, as filled three sheets of paper and more, which, when he had delivered to the bishop, Dr. Oking standing by, he said, " Well, Marbeck, thou hast put me out of all doubt. I assure thee," said he, putting up the paper into his bosom, " the king shall see this ere I be twenty- four hours older." But he dissem- bled in every word, and did not shew it to the king ; but afterwards, the king being informed of the Concordance which Marbeck had written, said, that he was better occupied than those who perse- cuted him. Marbeck was again committed to prison, and upon Whit-Sunday following, in the afternoon, was sent for again to St. Mary Overy's, where he found Dr. Oking, v/ith another gentleman in a gown of damask, with a chain of gold about his neck, sitting together in one of the stalls, their backs towards the church door, looking upon an epis- tle of John Calvin's, which Mar- beck had written out; and when they saw the prisoner come, they rose and had him up to a side altar, leaving his keeper in the body of the church alone. As soon as Marbeck saw the face of the gentleman, he saw it was the same person that first examined him in the Marshalsea, but knew not his name till he heard Dr. Oking call him Mr. Knight. This person held the paper to Marbeck, and said, " Look upon this, and tell me whose hand it is." When Marbeck had taken the paper and seen what it Mas, he confessed it to be all his hand, sav- ing the first leaf and the notes in the margin. " Then I perceive," said Knight, " thou wilt not go from thine own hand." — " No, Sir," replied he, " I will deny nothing that I have done." — " Thou dost well in that," said Knight ; " for if thou shouldst, we have testimonies enough besides to try out thy hand by : but I pray thee tell me whose hand is the first leaf J"—" That I cannot tell you," said Marbeck. " Then how earnest thou by it 1" asked Knight. " There was a priest," answered he, " dwelling with us five or six years ago, called Marshall, who sent it unto me with the first leaf written, desiring me to write it out with speed, because the copy could not be spared but an hour or two, and so I wrote it out, and sent him both the copy and it again." — " And how came this hand in the margin .'" said Knight, " which is a contrary hand to both the others." — " That I will tell you," replied Marbeck. " When I wrote it out at the first, I made so much haste, that I un- derstood not the matter, wherefore I was desirous to see it again, and to read it with more deliberation ; and being sent to me the second time, it was thus quoted in the margin as you see. And shortly after this it was his chance to go beyond the seas (where he lived not long), by reason whereof the epistle remaineth with me ; but whether the first leaf or the notes in the margin were his hand, or whose hand else, that I cannot tell." " Tush !" cried Dr. Oking to Mr. Knight, " he knoweth well enough that the notes be Ha5nes's own hand." — " If you know so much," said Marbeck, " ye know more than I do ; for T tell you tru- ly, I know it not." — " By my faith, Marbeck," said Knight, " if thou wilt not tell by fair means, those fingers of thine shall be made to tell." — •' By my truth. Sir," replied Marbeck, " if you do tear the whole body in pieces, I trust in God you shall never make me at>- cuse any man wrongfully." — " If thou be so stubborn," cried Dr. Oking, " thou wilt die for it." — " Die I" cried he ; " wh( refore should I die ? You told me, the last day before the bishops, that as soon as I had made an end of the piece of Concordance they took me, I should be delivered ; and PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 287 shall I now die ? This is a sudden mutation. You seemed then to be my friend, but I know the cause ; ye have read the ballad I made of Moses' chair, and that hath set you ap;ainst me ; but m hensoever ye shall put me to death, I doubt not but I shall die God's true man and the king's." — " How so ?" inquired Knight. " How canst thou die a true man unto the king, when thou hast offended his laws ? Is not this epistle, and most of thy notes thou hast written, directly against the six articles 1" — " No, Sir," replied Marbeck ; " I have not offended the king's laws there- in ; for since the first time I began with the Concordance, which is almost six years ago, I have been occupied in nothing else ; so that both this epistle, and all the notes I have gathered, were written a great while before the six articles came forth, and are clearly remit- ted by the king's general pardon.'' — " Trust not to that," said Knight, *' for it will not help thee." And so going down to the body of the church, they committed Marbeck to his keeper, who led him away to prison again. TRIAL OF PEARSON, TESiWOOD, AND THEIR COMPANIONS. Some time after this, Anthony Pearson, Henry Filmer, and John Marbeck, Mere sent to Windsor, and committed to the town jail; and Testwood, who had kept his bed, was brought out of his house upon crutches, and confined with them : but Benet, who had been apprehended with them, was now sick of the pestilence, and was therefore left behind in the bishop of London's jail, whereby he es- caped the cruel death which the others suffered. These men being brought to Windsor, there was a sessions spe- cially procured to be holden the Thursday following. Against which sessions, by the counsel of Dr. Lon- don and Simons, all the fara.ers belonging to the college of Wind- sor, were warned to appear, be- cause they could not pick out pa- pists enough in the town to go upon the jury. When the judges had taken their places, and the prisoners were brought before them, Anthony Pearson was called, and his indict- ment was read, wherein he was charged with having preached, two years before, in a place called Wing- field, and there having said, that " like as Christ was hanged be- tween two thieves, even so when the priest is at mass, and hath con- secrated and lifted him over his head, there he hangeth between two thieves, except he preach the word of Godtmly, as he hath taken upon him to do." Also that he said to the people in the pulpit, " Ye shall not eat the body of Christ, as it did hang upon the cross, gnawing it with your teeth, that the blood may run about your lips ; but you shall eat him this day as ye eat him to-morrow, the next day, and every day ; for it refresheth not the body, but the soul." Also, that after he had preached and commended the scripture, call- ing it the word of God, he said as fol- lows : " This is the word, this is the bread, this is the body of Christ." Farther, that he said, that " Christ, sitting with his disciples, took bread, and blessed, and brake it, and gave it to his disciples, say- ing, ' Take and eat, this is my body.' What is this to us, but to take the scripture of God, and to break it to the people?" To this Pearson answered, " I will be tried by God and his holy word, and by the true church of Christ, wiiether this be heresy or no, whereof you have indicted me this day. So long as I preached the bishop of Rome, and his filthy traditions, I v/as never troubled ; but since I have taken upon me to preach Christ and his gospel, ye have always sought my life. But it maketh no matter, for when you have taken your pleasure of my body, I trust it shall not lay in your powers to hurt my soul." " Thou callest us thieves," said the bishop of Salisbury, who was one of the 288 BOOK OF MARTYRS. judges. " I say," said the prison- er, " ye are not only thieves, but murderers, except ye preach and teach the word of God purely and sincerely to the people, which ye do not, nor ever did, but have al- lured them to all idolatry, supersti- tion and hypocrisy, for your own lucre and glory's sake, through which ye are become rather bite- sheeps than true bishops ; biting and devouring the poor sheep of Christ, like ravening wolves, never satisfied with blood ; which God will require at your hands one day, doubt it not." Then Simons, his accuser, standing within the bar, said, "It is a pity this fellow had not been burnt long ago, as he deserved." " In faith," said Pearson, " if you had as you deserved, you are more worthy to stand in this place than I : but I trust, in the last day, when we shall both appear before the tribunal seat of Christ, that then it will be known which of us two hath best deserved this place." *' Shall I have so long a day J" cried Simons, holding up his finger; '* nay, then I care not ;" and so this awful matter was turned into a jest by the papists. Then Testwood was called, and his indictment read, which charged him with having said, in the time the priest was lifting up the sacra- ment, " What, wilt thou lift up so high! what, higher? take heed, let him not fall." To this Testwood answered, it was but a thing maliciously forged by his enemies to bring him to his death. " Yes," said the bishop, " thou hast been seen, when the priest should lift up the sacrament over his head, then wouldst thou look down upon thy book, or some other way, because thou wouldst not abide to look upon the blessed sacrament." " I beseech you, my lord," asked Testwood, " whereon did he look that marked me so well?" "Marry," replied the king's attorney, " he could not be better occupied, than to mark such heretics that so despised the blessed sacrament." Filmer was called, and accused of saying, that the sacrament of the altar is nothing else but a si- militude and a ceremony ; and also, " if God be in the sacrament of the altar, / have eaten twenty Gods in my days." This accusation was founded on a conversation which had taken place between the prisoner and his brother, which happened as fol- lows: Henry Filmer coming upon a Sunday from Clewer, his parish church, in the company of one or two of his neighbours, chanced in his way to meet his brother, who was a poor labouring man, and asked him whither he was going. " To the church," said he. " And what to do?" asked Filmer. " To do!" cried the brother, " as other men do." " Nay," said Filmer, *' you go to hear mass, and see your God ; and if that be God, I have eaten twenty Gods in my days. Turn again, fool, and go home with me, and I will read thee a chapter out of the Bible, that will be better than ail that thou shalt see or hear there." This tale being told to Dr. Lon- don, by Simons, the general ac- cuser and spy, he sent for the poor man home to his house, telling him he should never want so long as he lived, if he would swear against his brother, as he should be or- dered. To this the ignorant and needy wretch consented, and being taken into Dr. London's ser- vice, he was brought forward on the trial against Henry Filmer, who, however, utterly denied the truth of the story, and said, " Wherefore, my lord, I beseech your lordship, weigh the matter in- difl'erently, forasmuch as there is no man, in all thi'S town, that can or will testify with him, that ever he heard any such talk between him and me; and if he can bring forth any that will witness with him, I refuse not to die." But all he could say had no effect. Then Filmer, seeing that he was to be condemned on his brother's accusation, said, " Ah, brother, what cause hast thou to shew me this unkindness? I have always PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 289 been a natural brother unto thee and thine, and helped you all in my power, from time to time, as thou thyself knowest; and is this a brotherly part, thus to reward me now for my kindness? God for- give thee, my brother, and give thee grace to repent." Then, look- ing over his shoulder, he desired some person to let him see the book of statutes. His wife, being in the hall, and hearing her hus- band call for the book of statutes, ran down to the keeper, brought up the book, and got it conveyed to her husband. The bishop, seeing the book in his hand, started up from the bench in a great passion, and de- manding who had given the prisoner that book, commanded it to be taken from him, and to make search who had brought it, swear- ing, by the faith of his body, he should go to prison. Some said it was his wife, some said the keeper; '* Like enough, my lord," said Si- mons, '* for he is one of the same sort, and as worthy to be here as the others, if he were rightly served." Martyrdom of Irene, a Cttristian Virgin, at ThesMlonica, April 1, A. D. 304.. Then said Filmer, " O my lord, I am this day judged by a law, and why should I not see the law that I am judged by? The law is, I should have two lawful wit- nesses, and here is but one, which would not do as he doth, but that be is forced thereunto by the sug- gestion of mine enemies." " Nay," said the king's attorney, " thine he- FOX'S MARTYRS. resy is so heinous, and abhorreth thineown brother so much, that it forceth him to witness against thee, which is more than two other wit- nesses." Thus was Filmer brought to his death by the malice of Simons and London, who had incited his wretched brother to work his con- fusion. But God, the avenger of 19 290 BOOK OF MARTYRS. all wrongs, punished this unna- tural brother; lor he, the next year, being sent as a labourer to Boulogne, had not been there three days, when a cannon burst- ing, shattered his body all to pieces. And so were the words of Solo- mon fulOlled, "A false witness shall not remain unpunished." John Marbeck was now called, and his indictment read ; which charged him with "saying, that the holy mass, when the priest consecrates the body of our Lord, is polluted, deformed, sinful, and open robbery of the glory of God, which a Christian heart ought both to abhor and flee from. And the elevation of the sacrament is the similitude of setting up of images of the calves in the temple built by Jeroboam •. and that it is more abomination than the sacrifices done by the Jews in Jeroboam's temple to those calves. And that certain and sure it is, that Christ himself is made, in the mass, man's laughing-stock." To this he answered, that these words were not his, but the words of a learned man called John Calvin, drawn out of a certain epistle which the said Calvin had made, which epistle he had only written out, and that long before the six articles were made public ; so that he was discharged of that oHence by the king's general par- don. Then the jury was called, who were all farmers belonging to the college of Windsor, and therefore biassed by their interests in favour of the accusers. The prisoners, aware of this, desired to have a jury of the townsmen, or such as knew them, and had seen their daily conversation, instead of the farmers, or equally chosen from both ; but that was not allowed. After the jury had been sworn, Bucklayer, the king's attorney, began to speak ; and first he al- leged many things against An- thony Pearson, to prove him an heretic ; which, when Pearson oflered to disprove, the bishop said, " Let him alone, sir^ he speaketh for the king :" and so Bucklayer went on, making every man's cause as heinous to the hearers as he could. When he had finished his ha- rangue, sir Humphrey Foster spake in favour of Marbeck, as follows : " Masters, you see there is no man here that accuseth or layeth any thing to the charge of this poor man, Marbeck ; saving that he hath writ certain things of other men's sayings, with his own baud, whereof he is discharged by the king's general pardon ; there- fore ye ought to have a conscience therein." Then started up Fache!, one of the commissioners, and said, '' What, can we tell whether they were written before the pardon, or after ? they may as well be written since as before, for any thing we know." These words of Fachel, it was generally thought, were the cause of Marbeck's con- demnation. The jury then retired, and when they had been together about a quar- ter of an hour, Simons went to them. After that one of the jurymen came down to the bishop, and talked with him and the other commissioners a good while ; whereby many conjectured that the jury could not agree. But soon after his going up again, they came down and delivered their verdict : which was, that the prisoners were all guilty. The commissioners now could not agree who should give judg- ment. All the others declining, Fachel said, "It must be done, one must do it, and if no other man will, then will I." And so he, the lowest in degree of all the commissioners, gave judgment. Marbeck, being the last upon whom sentence was passed, cried out to the bishop, " Ah, my lord, you told me otherwise when I was before you and the other two bishops. You said that I was ia better case than any of my fel- lows ; and is your saying come to this? Ah, my lord, you have de- ceived me I" The prisoners being condemned PROGRESS OP THE REFORMATION. 291 and led away, prepared to die on the morrow, comforting one an- other in the death and passion of their blessed Saviour, who had led the way before them ; trusting that the same Lord, which had made them worthy to suifer so far for his sake, would not now with- draw his strength from them, but give them faith and power to overcome the fiery torments to which they were to be exposed, and of his free mercy and good- ness, for his promise sake, receive their souls. Tims they lay all the night, calling on God for his aid and assistance, and praying for their persecutors, that He of his mer- ciful goodness would forgive them the cruelties which blind zeal and ignorance led them to the commis- sion of, and turn their hearts to the knowledge and love of his blessed and holy word ; indeed, such heavenly talk was amongst them that night, that the hearers, of whom the sherilT himself was one, with many other gentlemen, were constrained to shed tears, as they themselves confessed. On the morrow, which was Fri- day, as the prisoners were all pre- paring themselves to go to sutler, word was brought them that they should not die that day. The cause was this : tlio bishop of Sarum had sent a letter to the bishop of Winchester in favour of Marbeck ; upon receiving which the bishop went to the king, and obtained his pardon ; where- upon he caused a warrant to be made for his discharge, delivering the same to the messenger, who returned with speed, bringing news of Marbeck's pardon, whereat many rejoiced. EXECUTION OF PEAllSON, TEST- WOOD, AND FILMEU. On Saturday morning, when the prisoners were to go to execu- tion. Dr. Blithe, and Mr. Arch, two of the canons of the college, came to them. Mr. Arch asked them, " If they Mould be con- fessed ?" to which they answered in the afflnnative. Then he de- manded, " If they would receive the sacrament?" "Yea," said they, " with all our hearts." " I am glad," said Arch, "to hear you say so ; but the law is, that it may not be administered to any that are condemned of heresy. However, it is enough for you that ye desire it." They were then taken to the hall to confess, be- cause the prison was full of people. Dr. Blithe took Anthony Pearson to him to confess, and Mr. Arch the other two. But Pearson staid not long with the doctor, but came down again, saying, " He would have no more of his doctrine." And soon after the other two came down also. Then Pearson seeing many peo- ple in the prison, began to say the Lord's prayer, wherein he conti- nued till the ofBcers came to fetch him and his fellow-prisoners away; then taking their leave of Mar- beck they praised God for his de- liverance, wishing to him an in- crease of godliness and virtue, beseeching him heartily to help them with his prayers to God, to make them strong in their afflic- tions ; and so they departed. As the prisoners passed through the street, they desired all the peo- ple to pray for them, and to stand fast in the truth of the gospel, and not to be moved at their seeming afflictions, for it was the happiest event that ever happened to them. And as Dr. Blithe and Mr. Arch (who rode on each side the pri- soners), attempted to persuade them to turn to their " holy mother church," " Away," cried Pearson, " away with your Romish doctrine, and all your trumpery, for we will have no more of it." When Filmer came to his bro- ther's door, he wished to see him, , but Dr. London kept him out of sight ; so when he had called for him three or four times, and found he came not, he said, " And will he not come ? Then God for- give him, and make him a good man." Being at length arrived at the 292 BOOK OF MARTYRS. place of execution, Anthony Pear- son, with a cheerful countenance, embraced the post in his arms, and kissing it, said, "Now wel- come, mine own sweet wife ; for this day shalt thou and I be mar- ried together in the love and peace of God." Being all three bound to the post, a young man of Filraer's ac- quaintance brought him a pot of drink, asking, '• If he would drink?" — "Yea," cried Filmer, " T thank you ; and now my brother," continued he, " I desire you, in the name of the living Lord, to stand fast in the truth of the gospel of Jesus Christ, which you have received ;" and so taking the pot into his hand, he asked Pearson if he would drink. — " Yea, brother Filmer," replied he, " I pledge you in the Lord." Then all three drank ; and Fil- mer, rejoicing in the Lord, said, " Be merry, my brethren, and lift up your hands unto God, for after this sharp breakfast I trust we shall have a good dinner in the kingdom of Christ, our Lord and Redeemer." At which words Test- wood, lifting up his hands and eyes to heaven, desired the Lord above to receive his spirit, and Anthony Pear- son joined in the same prayer. Thus they yielded up their souls to the Father of Heaven, in the faith of his dear Son Jesus Christ, with such humility and steadfastness, that many, who saw their patient suffering, were convinced that nothing but real religion could be- stow so much constancy and Chris- tian courage. HISTORY AND MARTYRDOM OF ADAM DAMLIP. In 1539, there came to Calais, Adam Damlip, who had formerly been a zealous papist, and chap- lain to Fisher, bishop of Rochester. After the death of the bishop he travelled through France, Holland, and Italy, and as he went conferred with learned men concerning mat- ters of controversy in religion, and proceeded at last to Rome, where he thought to have found all godli- ness and sincere religion ; but in- stead of which he found there sucli blasphemy of God, contempt of Christ's true religion, looseness of life, and abundance of all abo- minations and filthiness, that his heart abhorred any longer to re- main there, although greatly request- ed to do so by cardinal Pole, who wished him to read three lectures in the week in his house, for which he offered him considerable remuneration. Damlip, however, was determined to return to Eng- land, and accordingly proceeded to Calais. As he was waiting without the gate of tBtit town for a passage to England, Stevens and Lancaster, two of the inhabitants, discovered by his conversation that he was a learned and pious man, who, hav- ing seen the errors of popery, now had a perfect knowledge of the true religion ; they therefore ear- nestly entreated him to stay at Ca- lais a while, and to preach there, with the hope of doing some good, after his painful travel. To this request Adam gladly consented, if he could be licensed by such as were in authority. Whereupon Stevens brought him to lord Lisle, the king's de- puty of the town and marches, unto whom he declared what conversation had been between Damlip and him; upon which, the lord deputy desired Damlip to stay there, and to preach three or four days or more , at pleasure, saying that he should have both his licence, and the com- missary's also. Having preached three or four times, Damlip was so liked, both for his learning, his eloquence, and the truth of his doctrine, that not only the soldiers and towns- people, but the lord deputy and a great part of the council, gave him great praise and thanks for it, and the lord deputy offered him board and lodging in his own house, with a man or two of his to wait upon him, and whatever else he might require; he also offered him his purse to buy books, if he would remain with them, and preach so PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 293 long as it should seem good to him- self. He refused, with much grati- tude, these liberal offers of his lordship, requesting him " only to be so good, as to appoint him some quiet and decent place in the town where he might not be disturbed or molested, but have opportunity for study ; and he would daily, once in the forenoon, and again in the afternoon, by the grace of God, preach among them according unto that talent that God had lent him." With this determination the lord deputy was greatly pleased, and sent for William Stevens, whom he earnestly required to lodge Damlip in his house, promising whatsoever he should demand to see it paid; and moreover that he would send at every meal from his own table, a dish of the best unto them; which he did, although Damlip refused to partake of it, assuring his lordship that thin diet was most proper for students. This godly man, during about twenty days, every morning at seven o'clock, preached very learn- edly and plainly the truth of the blessed sacrament of Christ's body and blood, inveighing against all papistry, and confuting the same, (but especially those two most pernicious errors — transubstantia- tion, and the propitiatory sacrifice of the Romish Mass), by the scrip- tures, and from the ancient doc- tors; earnestly exhorting the peo- ple to return from their delusion, declaring how zealous a papist he himself had been, and how, by the detestable wickedness that he saw universally inRome,he was returned so far towards the truth, and now become an enemy, through God's grace, to all papistry; shewing them that if gain or ambition could have moved him to the contrary, he might have been entertained by cardinal Pole, but for conscience sake he joined the true church, and now utterly abhorred the su- perstition which he had once igno- rantly followed, and entreated them most earnestly to do the same. Thus he continued awhile read- 4 ing in the Chapter-house of the White Friars ; but the place being not big enough, he was desired to read in the pulpit, and so proceed- ing in his lectures, he came at length to speak against the pa- geant, or picture of the resurrec- tion in St. Nicholas's church, de- claring the same to be mere idola- try, and an illusion of the French- men, before Calais was taken by the English. After this sermon, there came a commission from tlie king to the lord deputy, ordering search to be made whether there were three hosts lying upon a marble stone besprinkled with blood; and if they found it not so, that immediately it should be pulled down. In the search, instead of three hosts, they found soldered, in the cross of marble lying under the sepulchre, three plain white counters, painted like hosts, and a bone ; all which trumpery Damlip shewed to the people the Sunday following, out of the pulpit; after which they were sent by the deputy to the king. This exposure of their frauds did not, as may easily be supposed, tend to render the priests more fa- vourable to Damlip; on the con- trary it increased their malice; and Dove, prior of the White Fri- ars, with Buttoll, the lord deputy's chaplain, began to speak against him. Yet, after he had in three or four sermons confuted the friar's erroneous doctrine of transubstan- tiation, and the propitiatory sacri- fice of the mass, the latter seemed to be convinced of his error, ceas- ing openly to inveigh, but endea- vouring to impeach him by letters sent to the clergy in England; so that, within eight or ten days after, Damlip was ordered to appear be- fore the archbishop of Canterbury, the bishop of Winchester, bishop of Chichester, and others, before whom he steadily affirmed and de- fended the doctrine which he had taught, answering, confuting, and removing the objections which had been brought against it, so that his adversaries, among the rest the 294 BOOK OF MARTYRS. learned and pious Cianmer, mar- velled at it, and said plainly "that the scriptures knew not that term of " transubstantiation." Then the other bishops began to threaten him, that they would shortly confute him with those un- answerable arguments, fire and fagot, if he stood to the defence of what he had spoken. To which he answered, that '* he would the next day deliver unto them fully so much in writing as he had said, whereunto also he would stand;" and so he was dismissed. The next day, at the appointed hour for his appearance, he came not; for he had secret intimation from Cranraer, that if he any more personally appeared, he would be committed to prison, and consigned to a cruel death ; whereupon he sent to the bishops four sheets of paper, written in the Latin tongue, containing his faith, with his argu- ments, drawn from the scriptures, and writings of the doctors; which done, he fled into the west country ; here he continued teaching a school about a year or two, after which he was again apprehended, and brought to London; where, by Gardiner, ho was committed to the Marshalsea, where he was con- fined about two years. During his imprisonment in the Marshalsea, John Marbeck also was committed to the same prison; they met at confession, and Mar- beck, who had never seen him be- fore, entering into conference with him, became acquainted with his story, from Damlip himself, who concluded by saying, " And now, because I think they have forgot- ten me, I am fully minded to make my humble suit to the bishop of Winchester, in an epistle, declar- ing therein mine obedience, hum- ble submission, and earnest desire to come to examination. I know the worst ; I can but lose my life, ■which I had rather do, than re- main here and not be suilered to use my talent to God's glory ; wherefore, God willing, I will surely put it to the proof." Damlip was beloved by every person in the prison; but espe- cially by the keeper himself, whose name was Massy; and being suf- fered to go at liberty within the walls, he did much good among the common and dissolute sort of prisoners, in rebuking vice and sin, and kept them in such good order and awe, that the keeper thought him a great treasure. When he had drawn out his epistle, he delivered it to the keeper, desiring him to deliver it to the bishop of Winchester. The keeper said he would. He accord- iiigly waited upon the bishop, and came home at night very late; and when the prisoners saw him so sad and heavy, they concluded some- thing was amiss. At last, casting his eyes upon Damlip, he said, "0 George*, I can tell thee ti- dings."— " What is that, master?" said Damlip. — " Upon Monday next, thou and I must go to Ca- lais."— " To Calais, what to do.'" " I know not," replied the keeper, and pulled out of his purse a piece of wax, with a little label of parch- ment attached to it, which seemed to be a precept. And when Dam- lip saw it, he said, " Well, well, master, now I know what the mat- ter is."—" What?" asked the keep- er.— " Truly, master, I shall die in Calais." — " Nay," said the keeper, " I trust it will not be so." — " Yes, yes, master, it is most true; and I praise God for his goodness there- in." And so the keeper and they went together to supper, much af- ilicted on account of Damlip, who, notwithstanding, was merry him- self, and supped as heartily as ever; whereupon some at the board told him, that they marvel- led how he could eat his meat so well, knowing he was so near his death. " Ah, masters," replied he, " do you think that I have been God's prisoner so long in the Marshalsea, and have not yet learned to die? Yes, yes, and I doubt not but God will strengthen me therein." * He was called indifferendy, for some reason not now known, eithsr George Budcer or Adam Damlip. PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 295 On the followitif? Monday, early ill tlie morning-, the keeper, with lliree others of the knight marshal's servants, conveyed Adam Danilip to Calais, and there committed him to the mayor's prison. Upon which day, John Butler, tlie commissary, and the curate of St. Peter's, were also committed to the same prison, and orders given, that no man should speak with Butler. The following Saturday, was the day appointed for the execution of Damlip. The offence which his persecutors laid to liis charge was heresy ; but, because by an act of parliament all such offences, done before a certain day, were pardoned, yet, for receiving a trilling sum of cardinal Pole, which he gave him merely to as- sist him in his travelling expenses, he was condemned of treason. The day before his execution, came unto hira one Mr. Mote, a priest, saying, " Your four quar- ters shall be lianged at four parts of the town." " And where shall my head be ?" asked Damlip. " Upon the Lantern gate," said Mote. " Then," answered Dam- lip, " shail I not need to provide for my burial." At the place of execution Sir R. Ellerker, then knight-marshal there, would not suffer the inno- cent and godly man to declare either his faith, or the cause he died for, but said to the execu- tioner, " Dispatch the knave, have done." And Mote, appointed to preach there, declared to the peo- ple, that he had been a sower of seditious doctrine ; and although he was for that pardoned by the general pardon, yet he was con- demned for being a traitor against the king. To which, when Adam Damlip would have replied, sir R. Ellerker would not suffer him to speak a word, but commanded him to be had away, declaring he would not leave the place till he had seen the traitor's heart out. And so most meekly, patiently, and joy- fully, the blessed and innocent martyr submitted to his death, being hanged, drawn, Mid quar- tered. The providence of God, shortly after, overtook the sanguinary monster, sir R. Ellerker, with a just punishment ; for, in a skirmish with the French at Boulogne, he was slain; and, after the enemy had stripped him naked, they cut the heart out of his body, and so left him a terrible example to all bloody and merciless men. Some time after this, a certain scholar, said to be a Scotchman, named Dod, coming out of Ger- many, was taken at Calais, with certain German books about him, and being examined thereupon, and remaining steadfastly in the truth that he had learned, was condemned to death, and burned in the town. ATTEMPTS TO RUIN CRANMER. The chief thing now aimed at, by the whole popish party, was Cranmer's ruin. Gardiner em- ployed many to infuse the belief into the king, that he gave the chief encouragement to heresy in England, and that it was in vain to lop off" the branches, and leave the root still growing. The king, before this, would never hear the complaints that were made of hiin: but now, to be informed of the depth of this design, he was willing to make himself acquainted with all that was to be said against him. Gardiner reckoned, that this point being gained, all the rest would follow, and judging that the king was now alienated from him, more instruments and artiiices than ever were made use of. A long paper, containing many particulars against both Cranmer and his chap- lains, was put into the king's hands. Upon this the king sent for him ; and after he had com- plained much of the heresy in England, he said, he resolved to lind out the chief p'omoter of it, and to make him an example. Cranmer advised him first to consider well what heresy was. 996 BOOK OF MARTYRS. that so be might not condemn those as heretics, who maintained the true word of God ag;ainst human inventions. Then the king told him frankly, that he was the man complained of, as most guilty ; and shewed him all the informations that he had received against him. Cranmer avowed that he was still of the same mind as when he opposed the six articles, and sub- mitted himself to a trial ; he con- fessed many things to the king ; in particular, that he had a wife ; but he said he had sent her out of England, when the act of the six articles was passed ; and ex- pressed so great a sincerity, and put so entire a confidence in the king, that, instead of being ruined, he was now better established with him than ever. The king commanded him to ap- point some persons to examine the contrivance that had been laid to destroy him ; he answered, that it was nut decent for him to nominate any to judge in a cause, in which himself was concerned ; but the king being positive, he named some to go about it, and the whole secret was discovered. It appeared that Gardiner and Dr. London had been the chief instruments, and had encouraged informers to appear against him. Cranmer did not press the king for any reparation ; for he was so noted for his readiness to forgive injuries, and to return good for evil, that it was commonly said, the best way to obtain his favour, was to do him an injury ; of this he gave sig- nal instances at this time, both in relation to the clergy and laity ; by which it appeared that he was actuated by that meek and lowly spirit, which becomes all the fol- lowers of Christ, but more particu- larly one, who was so great an in- strument in reforming the Chris- tian religion ; and did, by such eminent acts of charity, shew that he himself practised that which he taught others to do. A parliament was now called, in which an act providing for the succession of tlie crown was pass- ed. By it prince Edward and his heirs, or the heirs by the king's present marriage, were to succeed on the decease of the king ; after them the lady Mary, and lady Elizabeth ; and in case they had no issue, or did not observe such limitations or conditions as the king should appoint, then it was to fall to any other whom the king should name, either by his letters patent, or by his last will signed with his hand. An oath was ap- pointed both against the pope's supremacy, and for the maintain- ing the succession according to this act, which all were required to take, under the pains of treason. It was made treason to say or write any thing contrary to this act, or to the slander of any of the king's heirs named in it. Another bill was passed, quali- fying the severity of the six arti- cles ; by which it was enacted that none should be imprisoned but upon a legal presentment, ex- cept upon the king's warrant. None was to be challenged for words spoken, except the accusa- tion were brought within a year after the commission of the of- fence ; nor for a sermon, but within forty days. This was made to prevent such conspiracies as had been discovered during the former year. Another act w as passed, renew- ing the authority given to thirty- two commissioners to reform the ecclesiastical law, which Cranmer promoted much ; and to advance so good a purpose, he drew out of the canon law, a collection of many things against the regal, and for the papal authority, with se- veral other very extravagant pro- positions, to shew how improper it was, to let a book, in which such things were, continue still in any credit in England: but he could not bring this to any good issue. A general pardon also was grant- ed, out of which heresy was ex- cepted. Audlcy, the chancellor, dying PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 297 at this time, Wriothesly, wlio was of the popish party, was put in his place: and Dr. Petre, Cranmer's friend, was made secretary of state: so equally did the king keep the balance between both parties. He gave orders also to translate the prayers, and litanies, into the English tongue, which gave the reformers some hopes that he. had not quite cast off his design of reforming such abuses as had crept into the worship of God. And they hoped that the reasons which prevailed with the king to order this, would also induce him to order a translation of all the other oflSces into the English tongue. Lee, archbishop of York, died about this time; and was suc- ceeded by Holgate, bishop of Lan- daff, who, in his heart, favoured the reformation. Kitchin, who turned with every change, was made bishop of Landafi'; Heath was removed from Rochester to Wor- cester; Holbeck was promoted to the see of Rochester; and Day to that of Chichester. All these were moderate men, and well disposed to a reformation, or at least to comply with it. MARTYRDOM OF KERBY AND CLARKE. The next English martyrs who stand upon record, are Kerby and Clarke. These men were appre- hended at Ipswich, and committed to the care of the gaoler there, named Bird, a very humane man. While they were in custody, Kerby was visited by Mr. Robert Wing- field, and a Mr. Bruess. Wing- field said to him, " Remember the fire is hot, take heed of thine en- terprise, that thou take no more upon thee than thou shalt be able to perform. The terror is great, the pain will be extreme, and life is sweet. Better it were betime to stick to mercy, while there is hope of life, than rashly to begin, and then to shrink." Kerby answered, " Ah, Mr. Wingfield, be at my burning, and you shall say, there standeth a Christian soldier in the firs : for I know that fire and water, sword, and all other things, are in the hands of God, and he will sufter no more to be laid upon us than he will give strength to bear." — " Ah, Kerby," replied Mr. Wingfield, " if thou be at that point, I will bid thee farewell; for I promise thee I am not so strong that I am able to burn." And so both the gentlemen saying that they would pray for him, shook hands with him and departed. . When Kerby and Clarke were brought up for examination, before lord Wentworth and the other commissioners, they lifted up their eyes and hands to heaven, with great devotion, making their prayers secretly to God. The articles of accusation were then read to them, and it was de- manded of them, " Whether they believed, that after the words spoken by a priest, as Christ spake them to his apostles, the bread and wine were not the very body and blood of Christ, flesh, blood, and bone, as he was born of the Virgin Mary, and no bread after." To which they answered, " No, they did not so believe, but that they believed the sacrament which Christ Jesus instituted at his last supper to his disciples, was only to put men in remembrance of his precious death, and blood-shed- ding for the remission of sins ; and that there was neither flesh nor blood to be eaten with the teeth, but bread and wine, and yet more than bread and wine, for that it is consecrated to a holy use." Then many persuasions and threats were used to induce them to abjure ; but they both continued faithful and constant, choosing ra- ther to die than to live, if life were to be purchased by professing what they could not believe to be true. Sentence was then passed upon them; Kerby to be burnt in Ips- wich on the next Saturday, and Clarke to be burned at Bury on the Monday after. Kerby, when his judgment was given by lord 2D8 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Wentworth, will) most humble re- verence holdinj;: op his hands and bowing himself devoutly, said,. " Praised be Almighty God." Then lord Wentworth spoke se- cretly to another commissioner who sat near him. Clarke, per- ceiving this, said "with a loud voice, " Speak out, my lord, and if you have any thing contrary to your conscience, ask God mercy, and we for our parts forgive you: and speak not in secret, for ye shall come before a judge, and then make answer openly, even before Him that shall judge ail men." Lord Wentworth changing co- lour, perhaps from remorse, an- swered, " I spoke nothing of you, nor have 1 done any thing unto you, but as the law is." The prisoners were then led to their destinations ; Kerby to prison at Ipswich, and Clarke to Bury St. Edmund's. — On quitting the court, the latter exclaimed aloud, " Fight for your God, for he hath not long to continue." On the following Saturday, about ten o'clock, Kerby was brought to the. market-place, where a stake was ready, with wood, straw, &c. He was then fastened to the stake with irons, lord Wentworth, with many other noblemen and gentlemen of the neighbourhood, being in the gal- lery, where they might see his ex- ecution, and hear what he might say; there was also a great num- ber of people. In the gallery also, by lord Wentworth, stood Dr. Rugham, formerly a monk of Bury, having on a surplice, and a stole about his neck. Silence being proclaimed, the doctor began to speak to the as- sembly, and in his discourse, as often as he quoted the Scriptures, and applied them rightly, Kerby told the people that he was right, and bade them believe him. But when he did otherwise, he told him again, " You say not true ; be- lieve him not, good people." When the doctor had ended, he said to Kerby, " Thou, good man, dost not thou believe that Uie blessed sacrament of the altar is the very flesh and blood of Christ, and no bread, even as he was born of the Virgin Mary?" Kerby an- swering boldly, said, " I do not so believe." " How dost thou be- lieve?" asked the doctor. Kerby answered, " I believe that in the sacrament that Jesus Christ insti- tuted at his last supper to his dis- ciples (which ought of us likewise to be done) is his death and pas- sion, and bis bloodshedding for the redemption of the world, to be re- membered; and, as I said before, yet bread, and more than bread, for that it is consecrated to a holy use." After this the doctor said no more to Kerby. Then the under-sheriff de- manded of Kerby whether he had any thing miOre to say? "Yea, sir," said he, " if you will give me leave." " Say on then," said the sheriff. Then Kerby, taking his cap from his head, cast it from him, and lift- ing up his hands, repeated the hymn, Te De%im, and the Apostles' creed, with other prayers in the English tongue. Lord Wentworth, whilst Kerby was thus doing, con- cealed himself behind one of the posts of the gallery, and wept, and so did many others. " Now," said Kerby, "I have done: you may execute your office, good sheritt." On this, fire was set to the wood, and with a loud voice the holy martyr commended his soul to his heavenly Father; striking his breast, and holding up his hands as long as his senses remained ; and so ended his life, the people being filled with great admiration of so much constancy, in one so simple and unlettered. On the following Monday, about ten o'clock, Roger Clarke was brought out of prison, and led on foot to the gate, called Southgate, in Bury. By the w ay he met the procession of the host, but he went on, and would not bow, or kneel, but vehemently rebuked that idola- try and superstition. On arriving at the place of exe • PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 299 ration, the stake lieing ready, and the wood Ijinj? by, lie kneeled down, and said tlie Marjuijicat in the English tongue, making a pa- raphrase upon it, wherein he de- clared that the blessed Virgin Mary, who might rejoice in her pureness, with as much reason as any other, yet humbled herself to our Saviour. " And what says John Baptist," continued he, " the greatest of all tlie children I * Be- hold the lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world.'" And thus with a loud voice he cried unto the people, while they were fastening hiai to the stake, and then fire was set to him. His suf- ferings were dreadful, for the wood was green, and would not burn, so that he was choked with smoke: and moreover, being set in a pitch-barrel, with some pitch sticking still by the sides, he was thereby much pained, till he got liis feet out of the barrel. At length a person standing by took a fagot, and striking at the ring of iron about his neck, and then upon his head, he fell down on one side into the fire, and so was de- stroyed. This year it was ordained by proclamation, in the name of the king and his council, that the Eng- lish form of prayer, as ordained by the said council, should be used throughout all England, and none other. In the month of November, the king summoned his parliament. Early in the session they granted to him, besides subsidies of money, " all colleges, chantries, free cha- pels, hospitals, fraternities, bro- therhoods, guilds, and perpetuities of stipendiary priests, to be dis- posed of at his will and pleasure." Whereupon, shortly after, he came to the parliament-house to give his assent to such acts as were there passed: where, after an eloquent oration made to him by the speak- er, he answered, not by the lord chancellor, as the usual manner was, but by himself. He first declared his gratitude to his subjects for their grants and 3 subsidies to hira; and then, with much apparent earnestness, ex- horted them to concord, peace, and unity. But while he recom- mended charity by his speeches, his conduct showed that he was incapable of exercising it towards those who dillered from him; and the case of Anne Askew will prove, that his own disposition was not altered, whatever his pro- fessions might be. STORV AND MARTYRDOM OF ANNE ASKEW. This lady v/as descended from a good family, and had received an accomplished education: she had embraced the doctrines of the re- formers with zeal, and was taken into custody for her opinions, in March, 1545. She underwent se- vei"al examinations touching thQ points of dillereuce between the papists and the protestants ; in which she answered the insidious questions of her examiners with boldness and discretion. After remaining some time in prison, application was made by her rela- tives for her enlargement. The bishop of London, on this, ordered that she should be bi'ought before him, at three o'clock the next day, attended by her friends. Her own account of this matter is so inte- resting that we cannot do better than present it to our readers. After narrating what we have al- ready mentioned, she proceeds: " Next day in the forenoon, the bishop of London sent for me, and as I came before him, he said he was sorry for my trouble, and de- sired to know my opinions in such matters as were laid against me. He required me in any wise boldly to utter the secrets of my heart, bidding me not to fear in any points, for whatever I said in his house, no man should hurt mo for it. I ansvv'ered, ' As your loid- ship appointed three o'clock, my friends will not come till that hour; I desire you to pardon ray giving answers till they arrive.* Then he said that he thought it meet to send for those who were 300 BOOK OF MARTYRS. before named and appointed *. I desired him not to put them to the trouble, because the two gentle- men who were my friends, were able enough to testify what I should say. "Afterwards he went into his gallery with Mr. Spilraan, and told him in any wise that he should ex- hort me to utter all I thought. In the mean while he commanded his archdeacon to commune with me, who said, ' Mistress, wherefore are you accused and thus troubled here before the bishop?' 1 an- swered, ' Sir, ask my accusers, for I know not as yet.' Then he took my hand, and said, 'Such books as this have brought you to the trouble you are in. Beware,' said he, ' beware, for he that made this book, and was the author there- of, was an heretic and burned in Smithfield.' " I asked him if he was certain and sure that it was true what he had spoken. He said he knew well the book was of John Frith's making. Then I asked him if he were not ashamed to judge of the book before he saw it within, or yet knew the tiath thereof. I said also, that such unadvised hasty judgment is an apparent token of a very slender wit. Then I opened the book and showed it him. He said he thought it had been another, for he could find no fault therein. Then I desired him no more to be so unadvisedly rash and swift in judgment, till he thoroughly knew the truth, and so he departed from me. " Immediately after came my cousin Britain, with divers others, among whom was Mr. Hall of Gray's-inn. Then my lord of Lon- don persuaded my cousin, as he had done often before, that I should utter the bottom of my heart in any wise. My lord said after that unto me, that he would I should credit the counsel of such as were my friends and well-wish- • Dr. Crome, Sir Guillam Whitehead, and Mr. Huntington, reformers, and fricndb of Mrs. Askew. ers in this behalf, which was, that I should utter all things that bur- thened my conscience ; for he as- sured me, that I should not need to stand in doubt. For as he pro- mised them (he said) he promised me, and would perform it ; namely, that neither he, nor any man for him, should take me at advantage of any word, and therefore he bade me say my mind without fear, T answered him, that I had nought to say, for my conscience (I thanked God) was burdened with nothing. "Then brought he forth this unsavoury similitude : — ' that if a man had a wound, no wise sur- geon would minister help unto it before he had seen it uncovered. In like case,' saith he, ' can T give you no good counsel, unless I know wherewith your conscience is bur- dened.'— ' My conscience,' said I, ' is clean in all things, and to lay a plaster unto the whole skin would appear much folly.' " ' Then you drive me,' saith he, * to lay to your charge your own report, which is this — You did say, he that doth receive the sacrament by the hands of an ill priest, or a sinner, receiveth the devil, and not God.' I answered, ' That I never spake such words : but, as I said before, that the wickedness of the priest did not hurt me, but in spirit and faith I received no less than the body and blood of Christ.' — * What saying is this in spirit V demanded he, ' I will not take you at the advantage.' Then answer- ed I, ' My lord, without faith and spirit, I cannot receive him wor- thily.' " Then he said that I had affirm- ed, 'That the sacrament remain- ing in the pix was but bread.' I answered, ' That I never said so.' But indeed the quest had asked a question, whereunto I would not reply till they had answered my question, ' Wherefore Stephen was stoned to death ?' "Then my lord said, 'That I had alleged a certain text of the scripture.' I answered, ' That I alleged none other but St. Paul's PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 301 own saying to the Athenians, in the I8th chapter of the Acts, That God dwelleth not in temples made with hands.' Then he asked me, ' What my faith and belief was in that matter V I answered him, ' I believe as the scripture doth teach me.' " Then inquired he of me, 'What if the scripture doth say, that it is the body of Christ?' — ' I believe,' said I, ' as the scripture doth teach.' Then he asked again, 'What if the scripture doth say that it is not the body of Christ?' My answer was still, ' I believe as the scripture informeth me.' And upon this argument he tarried a great while, to have driven me to make him an answer to his mind. How- beit I would not, but concluded this with him, ' That I believe therein, and in all other things, as Christ and his apostles did leave them.' " Then he asked me, ' Why I had so few words?' and I answer- ed, ' God hath given me the gift of knowledge, but not of utter- ance; and Solomon saith, A wo- man of few words is the gift of God.' " He next laid to my charge, that I had said that the mass was superstitious, wicked, and no bet- ter than idolatry.' I answered him, 'that I had said not so. Howbeit the quest asked me. Whether pri- vate mass did relieve departed souls? Unto whom I had answer- ed, O Lord, what idolatry is this, that we should rather believe in private masses, than in the death of the dear son of God!' Then said my lord again, ' What an an- swer is that?' — 'Though it be but mean,' said I, ' yet is it good enough for the question ; and there is a priest,' said I, ' who was pre- sent before the mayor.' " The chancellor then asked the priest, who said, ' She spake it in very deed, before my lord mayor and myself.' " Then were there certain priests, as Dr. Standish and others, which tempted me much to know my mind. I answered them always thus : — ' What I said to my lord of London, I have said.' Then Dr. Standish desired my lord to bid me speak my mind concerning the text of St. Paul's learning, that I being a woman should in- terpret the scriptures, especially where so many wise and learned men were. " My lord of London then said, ' He was informed that one had asked me if I would receive the sacrament at Easter, and I made a mock of it.' " I desired that my accuser might come forth, which he would not allow. But he said again unto me, ' I sent one to give you good coun- sel, and at the first word you called him Papist.' — That I denied not, for I perceived he was no less, yet I made him no answer to it. " Then he rebuked me, and said that ' I had reported that there were sent against me threescore priests at Lincoln.' ' Indeed,' quoth I, ' I said so ; for my friends told me, if I did come to Lincoln, the priests would assault me, and put me to great trouble, as thereof they had made their boast ; and when I heard it I went thither, indeed, not being afraid, because I knew my matter to be good. Moreover I remained there nine days, to see what would be said to me ; and as I was in the Minster, reading upon the Bible, they re- sorted unto me by two and two, by five and by six, minding to have spoken unto me ; yet went they their ways again without once speaking.' " He next asked me, ' If there were not one who had spoke to me ?' I told him, ' Yes, that there was one of them at the last which did speak indeed, but that his words were of small elfect, so that I did not now remember them.' Then said my lord, 'there are many that read and know the scripture, and yet follow it not, nor live thereafter.' I said again, ' My lord, I would wish that all men knew my conversation and living 302 BOOK OF MARTYRS. in all points ; for I am sure myself this hour that there are none able to prove any dishonesty against me. If you know that any can do it, I pray you bring- them forth.' Then my lord went away, and said he would entitle some of my meaning in writing ; but what it was I have not in my memory, for he would not sufl'er me to have tlie copy thereof, only I remember this small portion of it. " ♦ Be it known of all men, that I, Anne Askew, do confess this to be my faith and belief, notwith- standing many reports made afore to the contrary. I believe that they which are houseled at the hands of a priest, whether his con- versation be good or not, do re- ceive the body and blood of Christ in substance really. Also I do believe, that after the consecra- tion, whether it be received or re- served, it is no less than the very body and blood of Christ in sub- stance. Finally, I do believe in this and in all other sacraments of holy church in all points, ac- cording to the catholic faith of the same. In witness whereof I the said Anne have subscribed my name.' " There was somewhat more in it, which because I had not the copy, I cannot now remember. Then he read it to me, and asked me ' if I did agree to it.' And I said again, ' I believe so much there- of, as the holy scripture doth agree unto; wherefore I desire you, that you will add that thereunto.' Then he answered, ' That I should not teach him what he should write.' Witli that he went forth into his great chamber, and read the same bill before the audience, which in- veigled and willed me to set to my hand, saying also, ' that I had favour shewed me.' — Then the bishop said, ' I might thank others, and not myself, for the favour I found at his hand ; for he consi- dered,' he said, ' that I had good friends, and that I came of a good family.' *' Christopher, a servant to Mr. Denny, said to his lordship, ' Ra- ther ought you, my lord, to have done it in such case for God's sake, than for man's.' Then my lord sat down, and took me the writing to set thereto my hand, and I wrote after this manner: — ' I Anne Askew do believe all man- ner of things contained in the faith of the catholic church.' " Then because I did add unto it 'the catholic church,' he flung into his chamber in a great fury. With that my cousin Britain fol- lowed, desiring him for God's sake to be a good lord unto me. He answered, that ' I was a woman, and that he was nothing deceived in me.* Then my cousin Britain desired him to take me as a wo- man, and not to set my weak wo- man's wit to his lordship's great wisdom. " Then went in unto him Dr. Weston, ami said, ' That the cause why I did write tViere the catholic church, was, that I understood not the church written afore.' So, with much ado, they persuaded my lord to come out again, and to take my name, with the names of my sureties, which were my cousin Britain and master Spilman of Gray's-inn. " This being done, we thought that I should have been put to bail immediatel}', according to the order of the law. Howbeit he would not suffer it, but committed me from thence to prison again until the morrow, and then he willed me to appear in the Guild- hall, and so I did. Notwithstand- ing they would not put me to bail there neither, but read the bishop's writing unto me, as before, and commanded me again to prison. Then were my sureties appointed to come before them on the next morrow in Paul's church, who did so indeed. Notwithstanding, they would once again have broken off with them, because they would not be bound also for another woman at their pleasure, whom they knew not, nor yet what matter was laid unto her charge. Notwithstanding PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 303 ai the Ifist, after much ado and reasoning- to and fro, they took a bond of theui of recognisance for my fortlicomin^: and thus I was at the last delivered. " Written by me Anne Askew." Thus ended her first persecution, from which, for a time, she escap- ed, but not conforming to their er- roneous doctrine of the sacrament, she was, in 1546, again appre- hended ; of which, before her mar- tyrdom, she wrote the following account to some of her friends. "the sum of my examination BEFORE THE KING's COUNCIL AT GREENWICH. "Your request as'concerning my prison-fellows I am not able to sa- tisfy, because I heard not their ex- aminations. But the eflect of mine was this. I being before the coun- cil, was asked of Mr. Kyme. I answered, that my lord chancellor knew already my mind in that matter. They with that answer were not contented, but said it was the king's pleasure that I should open the matter unto them. I answered them plainly, I would not do soj; but if it were the king's pleasure to hear me, I would shew him the truth. Then they said it was not meet for the king to be troubled with me. I answered, that ' Solomon was reckoned the wisest king that ever lived, yet misliked he not to hear two poor common women, much more his grace a simple woman and his faithful subject.' So in conclusion, I made them none other answer in that matter. " Then my lord chancellor asked of me my opinion in the sacrament. My answer was this, * I believe that so oft as I in a Christian con- gregation do receive the bread in remembrance of Christ's death, and with thanksgiving, according to his holy institution, I receive therewith the fruits also of his most glorious passion.' The bishop of Winchester bade me make a direct answer : I said ' I would not sing a new song of the Lord in a strange land.' Then the bishop said ' I spake in parables/ I answered, ' It was best for him ; for if I shew the open truth,' quoth I, ' ye will not accept it.' Then he said I was a parrot. I told him again, ' I was ready to sull'er all things at his hands, not only his rebukes, but all that should follow besides, yea, and all that gladly.' " Then had I divers rebukes of the council, because I would not express my mind in all things as they would have me. But they were not in the mean time unan- swered for all that, which now to rehearse were too much, for I was with them about five hours. Then the clerk of the council conveyed me from thence to my lady Gar- nish. " The next day I was brought again before the council, which would needs know what I said to the sacrament. I answered, ' That I had already said what I could say.' Then after many words they bid me go aside; then came lord Lisle, lord Essex, and the bishop of Winchester, requiring me earnestly ' that I should con- fess the sacrament to be flesh, blood, and bone.' I told these noblemen that it was a great shame for them to counsel contrary to their knowledge ; whereunto in few words they said, ' That they would gladly ail things were well.' " The bishop said, ' He would speak with me familiarly ;' I said, ' So did .Judas, when he betrayed Christ.' Then he desired to speak with me alone ; but that I refused. He asked me why; I said, 'That in the mouth of two or three wit- nesses every matter should stand after Christ's and Paul's doctrine.' Matth. xviii. 2 Cor. xiii. " Then my lord chancellor began to examine me again on the sacra- ment. I asked him, ' How long he would halt on both.' He asked where I found that ; I said, ' In the scripture. 1 Kings, xviii. 21.' Then he went his waj'. The bishop said, ' I should be burnt.' I an- swered, ' That I had searched all the scriptures, yet could I never find that either Christ or his apos- 304 BOOK OF MARTYRS. ties put any creature to death. Well, well,' said I, 'God will laugh your threatenings to scorn.' Then was I commanded to stand aside ; after which came Dr. Cox and Dr. Robinson. In conclusion we could not agree. " They then drew out a confes- sion respecting the sacrament, urging me to set my hand there- unto ; but this I refused. On the following Sunday I was so ex- tremely ill, that I thought death was upon me, upon which I de- sired to see Mr. Latimer, but this was not granted. In the height of ray illness I was conveyed to New- gate, where the Lord was pleased to renew my strength. " THE SUM OF MY CONDEMNATION AT GUILDHALL. " They said to me there, ' that I was a heretic, and condemned by the law, if I would stand in mine opinion.' I answered, ' That I was no heretic, neither yet de- served I any death by the law of God. But as concerning the faith which I uttered and wrote to the council, I would not deny it, be- cause I knew it true.' Then would they needs know if I would deny the sacrament to be Christ's body and blood. I said, 'Yea; for the same son of God, who was born of the Virgin Mary, is now glorious in heaven, and will come again from thence at the latter day like as he went up — Acts i. And as for that ye call your God, it is a piece of bread. For a more proof thereof, mark it when you list, let it but lie in the box three months, and it will be mouldy, and so turn to nothing that is good. Where- upon I am persuaded that it cannot be God.' *' After that they willed me to have a priest; at this I smiled. Then they asked me if it were not good; I said, 'I would confess my faults unto God, for I was sure he would hear me with favour.' And so we were condemned. " My belief, which I wrote to the council, was this, that the sa- cramental bread was left us to be received with tiianksgiving, in re- membrance of Christ's death, the only remedy of our souls' reco- very; and that thereby we also receive the whole benefits and fruits of his most glorious passion. Then would they know whether the bread in the box were God or no: I said, ' God is a spirit, and will be worshipped in spirit and truth. John iv.' Then they de- manded, ' Will you plainly deny Christ to be in the Sacrament.'' 15 answered, 'that I believe faith- fully the eternal Son of God not to dwell there ;' in witness whereof I recited the 19th chapter of Daniel, the 7th and 17th of the Acts, and the 24th of Matthew, concluding thus, — ' I neither wish death, nor yet fear his might; God have the praise thereof with thanks.' " MY FAITH BRIEFLY WRITTEN TO THE king's GRACE, AND SENT BY THE HANDS OF THE CHAN- CELLOR. " I, Anne Askew, of good me- mory, although God hath given me the bread of adversity, and the water of trouble, yet not so much as my sins have deserved, desire this to be known unto your grace, that forasmuch as I am by the law condemned for an evil doer, here J take heaven and earth to record, that I shall die in my innocency ; and according to that I have said first, and will say last, I utterly abhor and detest all heresies. And as concerning the supper of the Lord, I believe so much as Christ hath said therein, which he confirmed with his most blessed blood ; I believe so much as he willed me to follow ; and believe so much as the Catholic church of him doth teach. For I will not forsake the commandment of his holy lips. But look what God hath charged me with his mouth, that have I shut up in my heart. And thus briefly I end, for lack of learning. Anne Askew. " MY examination AND TREAT- MENT AFTER MY DEPARTURE FROM NEWGATE. " On Tuesday I was sent from Newgate to the sigp of the Crowp^ PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 303 where Mr. Rich, and the bishop of London, with all their power and nattering words, went about to persuade me from God; but I did not esteem their glossing pre- tences. "Then came to nie Nidialas Shaxton, and counselled me to recant, as he had done. I said to hiui, ' That it had been good for him never to have been born;' witU ciiany other like >rordsi Cruel treatment of Messrs. King, Wade, I.cyes, and Andreiv, in Lollard'i Toiler, Lumbelli, Palace, A. D. 1555. " Then Mr. Rich sent me to the Tower, where I remained till three o'clock, when Rich came, and one of the cdilncil, charging me upon my obedience to shettr unto them if I knew any man or woman of my sect. My answer was, ' That I knew none.' Theii they asked me of lady Suffolk^ lady Sussex, lady Hertford, lady Denny, and lady Fitzwilliaras. To whom I answered, ' If I should pronounce any thing against them, that I were not able to prove it.' Then said they unto me, ' That the king was informed that I could name, if I would, a great immber of my sect.' I an- .swered, ' That the king was as FOX'S MARTYRS. well deceived in that behalf, as lie was dissembled with by them in other matters.' " Then they commanded me to shew how I was maintained in the Compter, and who willed me to stick to my opinion. I said, ' that there was no creature that therein did strengthen me. And as for the help that I had in the Compter, it was by the means of my maid. For as she went abroad in the streets, she told my case to the ap- prentices*, and they by her did * How gratifying is it (o fiiid tliesa young men assisting this afflicted saint ia prison! How worthy of imitation is their condact! For although. hap[}ily,- 20 306 BOOK OF MARTYRS. send ir.e money; but who they weie I never knew. "Then they said, 'That there were several ladies that had sent «ie money.' I answered, ' That there was a man in a blue coat who delivered me ten shillings, and said that my lady of Hertford sent it me : and another in a violet coat gcL\e me eight shillings, and said my lady Denny sent it me. Whether it were true or no I cannot tell; for I am not sure who sent it me, but as the maid did say.' Then they said, 'There were some of the council who maintained me.' I said, ' No.' "Then did they put me on the rack, because I confessed no la- dies or gentlewomen to be of my opinion, and thereon they kept me a long time, and because I lay still and did not cry, my lord chan- cellor and Mr. Rich took pains to rack me with their own hands till I was nigh dead. " The lieutenant then caused me to be loosed from the rack, when I immediately swooned, and they recovered me again. After that I sat two hours reasoning with my lord chancellor upon the bare floor, where he with many flattering words persuaded me to leave my opinion; but my Lord God, I thank his everlasting goodness, gave me grace to persevere, and will do, I hope, to the very end. " Then was I brought to an house and laid in a bed, with as weary and painful bones as ever had patient Job, I thank my Lord God therefore. Then my lord chancel- lor sent me word, if I would leave my opinion I should want for no- thing; if I would not, I should forthwith to Newgate, and so be burned. I sent him again word, that I would rather die than break my faith. there is not now the same occasion for the exercise of their charity, there are iunumerable ways in which they may administer comfort to the distressed among God's people ; and they sliould always remember that they are eAborted hy the apostle to " do good nnto all nif n, but especially unto them who are of ihv- liouiehold of faith." Gal. vl. 10. " Thus the Lord open the eye*, of their blind hearts, that the truth may take place. Farewell, dear friend, and pray, pray, pray." Her racking in the Tower, men- tioned above, is thus described. She was led down into a dungeon, where sir Anthony Knevet, the lieutenant, commanded his gaoler to pinch her with the rack; which being done, as much as he thought suflicient, he was about to take her down, supposing that he had done enough. But Wriothesley, the chancellor, not contented that she should be loosed so soon, having confessed nothing, commanded the lieutenant to strain her on the rack again, which because he de- nied to do, he was threatened by the chancellor, " That he Mould signify his disobedience to the king;" but remaining unmoved by their threats, Wriothesley and Rich, throwing off their gowns, would needs play the tormentors themselves, first asking her " If she Mere with child?" to M'hich she answered, " Ye shall not need to spare for that, but do your wills upon me;" and so quietly and pa- tiently praying unto the Lord, she sustained their cruelty, till her bones and joints were almost torn asunder, so that she was obliged to be carried aMay in a chair. When the racking was past, the chancellor and Mr. Rich rode oil to the court. In the mean time, while they were making their way by land, the good lieutenant, taking boat, hastened to the court to speak with the king before the others, which he did; and desiring his pardon, told him the whole matter respecting the racking of Mrs. AskeM', and the threats of the lord chancellor, " because at his com- mandment, not knowing his high- ness's pleasure, he refused to rack her, Mhich he for compassion could not find in his heart to do, and therefore desired his high- ness's pardon;" M'hich when the king had heard, he seemed not much to approve their severity; and granted the lieutenant his pardon. PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 30y While Mrs. Askew was confined iu Newcfate, she made the follow- ing- confession of her faith. " I Anne Askew, of good memory, although my merciful Father hath given me the bread of adversity, and the water of trouble, yet not so much as my sins have deserved, do confess myself here a sinner before the throne of his heavenly majesty, desiring his forgiveness and mercy. And for so much as I am by the law unrighteously con- demned for an evil doer, concern- ing opinions, I take the same most merciful God of mine, which hath made both heaven and earth, to re- cord that I hold no opinions con- trary to his most holy word ; and I trust in my merciful Lord, which is the giver of all grace, that he will graciously assist me against all evil opinions which are contrary to his blessed verity ; for I take him to witness that I have done, and will, unto ray life's end, utterly abhor them to the uttermost of my power. " But this is the heresy which they report me to hold, that after the priest hath spoken the words of consecration, there remaineth bread still. They both say, and also teach it for a necessary article of faith, that after these words be once spoken, there remaineth no bread, but even the self-same body that hung upon the cross on Good Friday, both flesh, blood, and bone. To this belief of their's say I, Nay. For then were our common creed false, which saith, that he sitteth on the right hand of God the Fa- ther Almighty, and from thence shall come to judge the quick and the dead. Lo, this is the heresy that I hold, and for it must suffer the death. But as touching the holy and blessed supper of the Lord, I believe it to be a most ne- cessary remembrance of his glo- rious suflferings and death. More- ^ over I believe as much therein as my eternal and only Redeemer Jesus Christ would I should be- lieve. "Finally, I believe all those scriptures to be true, which he hath confirmed with his most precious blood ; yea, and as St. Paul saith< those scriptures are sufficient for our learning and salvation, that Christ hath left here with us ; so that, I believe, we need no unwrit- ten verities to rule his church with. Therefore look what he hath said unto me with his own mouth in his holy gospel, that I have with God's grace closed up in ray heart, and my full trust is (as David saith) that it shall be a lantern to ray foot- steps, Psalm xxviii. " There be some that say I deny the eucharist, or sacrament of thanksgiving ; but those people untruly report of me ; for I both say and believe it, that if it were ordered as Christ instituted it and left it, a most singular comfort it were unto us all. But as concern- ing the mass as it is now used in our days, I say and believe it to be the most abominable idol that is in the world. For my God will not be eaten with teeth, neither yet dieth he again ; and upon these words that I have now spoken, will I suffer death. " O Lord ! I have more enemies now than there be hairs on my head ; yet, Lord ! let them never Overcome me with vain words, but fight thou, Lord ! iu my stead, -for on thee cast I ray care. With all the spite they can imagine, they fall upon me, who am thy poor creature. Yet, sweet Lord ! let me not set by them which are against me, for in thee is my whole delight; and. Lord ! I heartily desire of thee, that thou wilt of thy most merciful goodness forgive them that vio- lence which they do, and have done unto me. Open also thou their blind hearts, that they may hereafter do that thing in thy sight, which is only acceptable before thee, and to set forth thy verity aright, without all vain fantasy of sinful men. So be it, O Lord ! so be it, " Anne Askew." We have thought it advisable to give so much of this lady's own 308 BOOK OF MARTYRS. writings, as they afford very strong evidence of her faith, and zeal for the cause of truth. To this sacred cause she was now about to give the last and highest proof of her attachment, by yielding up her life at the stake, as a token of her de- votion to the pure religion of Jesus, and her abhorrence of the de- vices and inventions of the papists. On the day appointed for her execution, she was brought to Smithfield in a chair, being unable to walk, from the effects of the tor- tures which she had undergone. When she arrived at the stake, she was fastened to it by a chain round her body. Three other persons were brought to suffer with her, for the same offence. These were, Nicholas Belenian, a priest of Shropshire ; John Adams, a tailor ; and John Lacels, a gentleman of the king's household. The martyrs being all chained to the stake, Dr. Shaxton, who was appointed to preach, began his sermon; and as he proceeded, Anne Askew, with undiminished spirit, either confirmed or contra- dicted him, according to the truth or falsehood of bis quotations and inferences. The sermon being concluded, the martyrs began their prayers. The concourse of spectators was immense, and on a bench near the stake sat the lord chancellor, the duke of Norfolk, the earl of Bed- ford, the lord mayor, and other persons of consideration. The chancellor sent to Anne Askew letters, offering to her the king's pardon if she would recant; but she, refusing even to look upon them, made this answer, " That she came not thither to deny her Lord and master." Then the let- ters were likewise offered to the others, who imitating the constancy of the woman, refused not only to receive them, but also to look upon them, and continued to cheer and exhort each other to be firm to the end of their sufferings, and so to deserve the glory they were about to enter; whereupon the lord mayor, commanding fire to be put to them, cried, with a loud voice, ''^Jidt justitia." And thus these blessed martyrs were compassed in with flames of fire, and offered up as sacrifices unto God. DESIGNS AGAINST CRANMER. These events were so many triumphs to the popish party, who, stimulated by fresh hopes, sought to complete their victory by ef- fecting the ruin of Cranmer and the queen, whom they considered the greatest obstacles to their suc- cess. They persuaded the king that Cranmer was the source of all the heresies in England; but Henry's esteem for him was such, that no one would appear to give evidence against him ; they there- fore desired that he might be com- mitted to the Tower, and then it would appear how many would in- form against him. The king seemed to approve this plan, and they resolved to execute it the next day: but in the night Henry sent for Cranmer, and told him what was resolved concerning him. Cranmer thanked the king for giving him notice of it, and submitted to it, only desiring that he might be heard in answer for himself; and that he might have impartial judges, competent to decide. Henry was surprised to see him so little concerned in his own preservation : but told him, since he took so little care of him- self, that he must take care of him. He therefore gave him instructions to appear before the council, and to desire to see his accusers before he should be sent to the Tower ; and that he might be used by them, as they would desire to be used in a similar case ; and, if he could not prevail by the force of reason, then he was to appeal to the king in person, and was to shew the royal seal ring, which he took from his finger, and gave him, which they would know so well that they would do nothing after they once saw it. Accordingly, on being summon- ed next morning, he came over to Whitehall ; there he was detained, PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 309 ■with great insolence, in the lobby of the council chamber before he was called in ; but when that was done, and he had acted as the king had ordered him, and at last shew- ed the ring, his enemies rose in great confusion, and went to the king. He upbraided them severely for what they had done, and ex- pressed his esteem and kindness for Cranmer, in such terms, that they were glad to get otF, by pre- tending that they had no other de- sign but that of having his inno- cence declared by a public trial. From this vain attempt they were so convinced of the king's unalter- able favour to him, that they for- bore any further designs against him. But what they could not effect against Cranmer,they thought might be more safely tried against the queen, who was known to love the "new learning," as the reformation was then called. She used to have sermons in her privy chamber, which could not be so secretly car- ried, but that it came to the know- ledge of her royal spouse ; yet her conduct in all other things was so exact, and she expressed such a tender care of the king's person, that it was observed she had gain- ed much upon him ; but his peev- ishness growing Avith his distem- pers, .made him sometimes impa- tient even to her. He used often to talk with her of matters of religion, and some- times she sustained the argument for the reformers so strenuously, that he was offended at it ; yet as soon as that appeared she let it fall. But once the debate conti- nuing long, the king expressed his displeasure at it to Gardiner, when she went away. The crafty bishop took hold of this opportunity to persuade the king that she was a great cherisher of heretics. Wrio- thesley joined with him in the same artifice ; and filled the angry king's head with suspicions, insomuch that he signed the articles upon which she was to be impeached. But the chancellor carelessly dropping the paper, it happened to be taken up by one of the queen's fViends, who carried it to her. The next night, after supper, she went into the king's bedcham- ber, where she found him sitting and talking with certain gentlemen. He very courteously welcomed her, and breaking off his talk with the gentlemen, began of himself, contrary to his usual manner, to enter into talk of religion, seem- ing, as it were, desirous to hear the queen's opinion on certain matters which he mentioned. The queen, perceiving to what this tended, mildly, and with much apparent deference, answered him as follows : " Your Majesty," says she, " doth right well know, neither am I myself ignorant, what great imperfection and weakness by our first creation is allotted unto us women, to be ordained and ap- pointed as inferior, and subject unto man as our head, from which head all our direction ought to proceed ; and that as God made man to his own shape and likeness, whereby he, being endued with more special gifts of perfection, might rather be stirred to the con- templation of heavenly things, and to the earnest endeavour to obey his commandments ; even so also made he woman of man, of whom, and by whom, she is to be govern- ed, commanded, and directed; whose womanly weaknesses and natural imperfection ought to be tolerated, aided, and borne withal, so that by his wisdom such things as be lacking in her ought to be supplied. " Since thence, therefore, that God hath appointed such a natural difference between man and wo- man, and your majesty being so excellent in gifts and ornaments of wisdom, and I a silly poor wo- man, so much inferior in all re- spects of nature unto you, how then cometh it now to pass that your majesty, in such diffuse causes of religion, will seem to require my judgment ? which, when I have uttered and said what I can, yet must I, and will I, refer 310 BOOK OF MARTYRS. my jufl^ment in thissi and in all other cases, to j'our majesty's wis- dom, as my only anchor, supreme head and governor here on earth, next under God to lean unto." " Not so, by Saint Mary," replied the king ; '* you are become a doc • tor, Kate, to instruct us (as we take it) and not to be instructed or di- rected by us." " If your majesty take it so," said the queen, " then hath your majesty very much mistaken, who have ever been of the opinion, to think it very unseemly and prepos- terous for the woman to take upon her the office of an instructor, or teacher to her lord and husband, but rather to learn of her husband, and to be taught by him ; and where I kave, with 3^our majesty's leave, heretofore been bold to hold talk with your majesty, wherein some- times in opinions there hath seem- ed some difference, T have not done it so imich to maintain opinion, as I did it rather to minister talk, not only to the end your majesty might with less grief pass over this pain- ful time of your infirmity, being in- tentive to our talk, and hoping that your majesty should reap some ease thereby ; but also that I, hearing your majesty's learned discourse, might receive to myself some profit thereby; wherein, I assure your majesty, I have not missed any part of my desire in that behalf, always referring myself in all such matters unto your majesty, as by ordinance of nature it is convenient for me to do." " And is it even so, sweetheart?" cried the king ; " and tended your arguments to no worse end? Then perfect friends we are now again, as ever at any time heretofore." And as he sat in his chair, embracing her in his arms, and kissing her, he added, that " it did him more good at that time to hear those words of her own mouth, than if he had heard present news of an hundred thou- sand pounds in money fallen unto him ;" and with tokens of great joy, and promises and assurances never again to mistake her, he en- tered into very pleasant discourse with the queen, and the lords mid gentlemen standing by ; and at last (the night being far advanced), he gave her leave to depart. And af- ter she was gone, he greatly com- mended and praised her. The time formerly appointed for her being taken into custody, being come, the king, waited upon by two gentlemen only of his bedcham- ber, went into the gaj;den, whither the queen also cam6, (being sent for by the king himself) with three ladies attending her. Henry im- mediately entered into pleasant conversation with the queen and at- tendants ; when suddenly, in the midst of their mirth, the lord chan- cellor came into the garden with forty of the king's guards, intend- ing to have taken the queen, toge- ther with the three ladies, to the Tower. The king, sternly behold- ing them, broke off his mirth with the queen, and stepping a little aside, called the chancellor to him, who upon his knees spake to the king, but what he said is not well known : it is, however, certain that the king's reply to him was, " Knave ! yea, arrant knave, beast, and fool !" and then he commanded him pre- sently to begone out of his pre- sence ; which words, being vehe- mently spoken by the king, the queen and her ladies overheard them. The king, after the departure of the chancellor and his guards, im- mediately returned to the queen; when she, perceiving him to be very much irritated, endeavoured to pacify him with kind words, in behalf of the lord chancellor, with whom he seemed to be offended, saying, " That albeit she knew not what just cause his majesty had at that time to be offended with him ; yet she thought that ignorance, not wilfulness, was the cause of his error." " Ah, poor soul," replied the king, " thou little knowest how ill he de- serveth this grace at thy hands. On my word, sweetheart, he hath been towards thee an arrant knave, and so let him go." Thus the design against her was frustrated, and PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 311 (CJaidiiier, avIio had promoted it, lost the king's favour entirely. THE king's sickness, AND DEATH. The kinp:'s distemper had been long growing- upon him. He was become so corpulent that he could not go up and down stairs, but was let down and drawn up by an en- gine, when he intended to walk in his garden. He had an ulceration in his leg, which gave him much pain, the humours of his body dis- charging themselves that way, tail at last a dropsy came on. He had grown so tierce and cruel, that those about him were afraid to let him know that his death seemed near, lest they might have been ad- judged guilty of treason, in foretell- ing his death ! His will was made ready, and signed by him on the 30th of De- cember. He ordered Gardiner's name to be struck out from the list of his executors. When sir An- thony Brown endeavoured to per- suade him not to put that disgrace on an old servant, he continued positive in it ; for he said " he knew his temper, and could govern him ; but it would not be in the power of others to do it, if he were put in so high a trust." The most material thing in the will, was, the prefer- ring the children of his second sis- ter, by Charles Brandon, duke of Suffolk, to the children of his eldest sister the queen of Scotland, in the succession to the crown. On his death-bed he finished the founda- tion of Trinity-college in Cam- bridge, and of Christ's-hospital, near. Newgate ; yet this last was not fully settled, till his son com- pleted what he had begun. On the 27th of January, 1547, his spirits sunk, and it was evident that he had not long to live. Sir An- thony Denny took the courage to tell him that death was approach- ing, and desired him to call on God for his mercy. He expressed in general his sorrow for his past sins, and his trust in the mercies of God in Christ Jesus. He ordered Cran- mer to be sent for, but was speech- less before he arrived ; yet he gave a sign that he understood what lie said to him, and soon alter died, in the 5Gth year of his age, after he Jiad reigned thirty-seven years, and nine months. His death was con- cealed three days ; and the parlia- ment continued to sit till the 31st of January, when his decease was made public. It is probable the Seymours, uncles to the young king, concealed it so long, till they made a party for securing the go- vernment in their own hands. The severities Henry used against many of his subjects, in matters of religion, made both sides write with great sharpness against him ; his temper was imperious and cruel ; he was sudden and violent in his passions, and hesitated at nothing by which he could gratify either his lust or his revenge. This was much provoked by the sentence of the pope against him, by the viru- lent books cardinal Pole and others published, by the rebellions that were raised in England by the po- pish clergy, and the apprehensions he was in of the emperor's great- ness, together with his knowledge of the fate of those princes, against whom the popes had thundered in former times ; ail which made him think it necessary to keep his peo- ple under the terror of a severe go- vernment ; and by some public ex- amples to secure the peace of the nation, and thereby to prevent a more profuse ellusion of blood, which might have otherwise follow- ed if he had been more gentle ; and it was no wonder, if after the pope deposed him, he proceeded to great severities against all who supported the papal authority. Almost the last act of his life was one of barbarous ingratitude and monstrous tyranny. This was the execution of the earl of Surrey, a brave and accomplished nobleman, Avho had served him with zeal and fidelity, but was now sacrificed to the groundless suspicions of this gloomy tyrant, on the pretence of his having assumed the arms of Ed- ward the Confessor, which, from his being related to the royal family, he hxid a right to do, and which he 312 BDOK OF MARTYRS. had done, durinj^ many years, with- out ofl'ence. Not satisfied witli the deatli of tliis nobleman, the blood- thirsty despot, now tottering^ on the brink of the grave, determined to complete bis worse tlian savage barbarity, by bringing to the block the aged dnke of Norfolk, father of his former victim^ who bad spent a iong life, and expended a princely fortune, in his service. There b^ing no charge on which to found an im- peachment against him, a parlia- ment was summoned to attaint him ; and so well did these servile wretches fulfil their inhuman masv ter's expectations, that the bjU of attainder was passed in both houses in the short space of seven days; and the voyal assent being given by commission, January 27, the duke was ordered for execution on the next morning ; but in the course of the night, the king was himself summoned before the tribunal of the eternal Judge, Beside the martyrdoms which we have already' recorded, there are some others which have not been placed in their chronological order. We therefore insert ^em here, which will complete this important period of church history. BURNING OF BENT AND TRAPNEE. John Bent and — Trapnel suffer- ed shortly after the martyrdom of Thomas Bilney, of which we have given an account at pages 254, 255. The particulars of their examina- tions and trials are not extant ; but, having sealed their profession by their death, their names ought to be held in remembrance among those of their brethren. Bent was a tai- lor in the village of Urchevant, and was burned in the town of Devizes, in the county of Wiltshire. Trap- nel suffered the same fate at Brad- ford in the same county, Their offence consisted in having denied the doctrine of transubstantiation. THREE MEN HANGED FOR BURNING THE ROOD OF DOVER-COURT. In the year 1532, there was an idol called the Rood of Dover-court, to which great numbers of people constantly resorted. For at that time there was a (irm belief amongst the ignorant multitude, that tlie power of this idol was so great, that no man could shut the door of the church where it stood, and therefore the priests let it continu- ally stand open, to obtain the more credit to their false report. This belief being conceived in the heads of the rabble, seemed a great miracle unto many j but by others, whom God had blessed with his spirit, was greatly suspected, espe- cially by these, whose names here follow : Robert King of Dedham, Robert Debnam of Eastbergholt, Nicholas Marsh of Dedham, and Robert Gardiner of Dedham, who were much grieved to see the ho- nour and power of the Almighty God soblasphemed. Wherefore they were moved by the spirit of God, to travel out of Dedham in a night suitable iot their purpose, it being a .hard frost, and moonlight. It was from the town of Dedham, to the place where the Rood stood, ten miles. Notwithstanding, they were so earnest in their enterprise, that they went these ten miles cheerfully, and found the church- door open, according to custom. This happened well for their pur^ pose ; for it gave them an opportu- nity of easily approaching the idol ; which had as much power to keep the door shut as to keep it open. They took this helpless god from his shrine, and carried him a quar- ter of a mile from the place where he stood ; then they struck tire with a flint-stone, and suddenly setting him in a blaze, walked home by the light of it. A great clamour was immediately raised by the priests of this injured wooden deity ; and three of the de- stroyers of the idol were indicted of felony, and hanged in chains in a short time after. Robert King was hanged in Dedham ; Debnam at Cataway-causeway ; Nicholas Marsh at Dover-court. They all, through the spirit of God, at their death, said more to edify the peor pie in godly learning, than all the friars and monks who had preached tliere during centuries before. PUOGFiESS OF THE REFORMATION. 313 Robert Gardiner escaped by flight, and although greatsearch was made after him, the living Lord preserved him. About the same time there were many images cast down and de- stroyed in various places : as the image of the crucifix in the high- way by Coggeshall, the image of St, Petronil in the church of Great Horksleigh, the image of St. Chris- topher near Sudbury, and another image of St. Petronil in a chapel at Ipswich. Also .John Seward of Dedham, overthrew the cross in Stoke-park, and took two images out of a chapel there, and cast them into the water. PERSECUTION AN'D MARTYRDOM OF THOMAS BENET. Thomas Benet was bom in Cam- bridge; became M.A. there; and (as some think) was also a priest ; he was a very learned man, and of a godly disposition, being intimate- ly acquainted with Thomas Bilney, the glorious martyr of Christ. The more he grew and increased in the knowledge of God and his holy work, the more he disliked the cor- rupt state of religion then preva- lent; and therefore being desirous to live in more freedom of consci- ence, he quitted the university, and went into Devonshire, in the year 1324, and resided in Torrington, a market-town, where, for the main- tenance of himself and his wife, he kept a school. But that town not answering his expectation, after remaining there one year, he went to Exeter, and resumed his teach- ing. He was of a quiet behaviour, of a godly conversation, and of a very courteous nature, humble to all men, and giving offence to none. His greatest delight was to attend sermons and preachings, whereof he was a diligent and attentive hearer, and he devoted all his lei- sure to the study of the Scriptures, 3.nd the company of such as he found to be favourers of the gospel. Therefore understanding that Mr. Strowd, of Newnham, was com- piitted to the bishop's prison in ^xeter upon suspicion of heresy, altltough unacquainted with him, yet he sent him letters of consola- tion ; wherein, speaking of himself, he said, " Because I would not be a whoremonger, or an unclean per- son, I married a wife, with whom I have hidden myself in Devonshire from the tyranny of the antichris- tians, these six years." But although he had hitherto avoided any public expression of his sentiments, yet now, daily see- ing the glory of God blasphemed, idolatrous religion embraced and maintained, and the usurped power of the bishop of Rome extolled, he was so grieved in conscience, and troubled in spirit, that he could not rest till he gave utterance to his thoughts on these subjects. Where- fore, speaking privately with his friends, he plainly told them how blasphemously and abominably God was dishonoured, his word con- temned, and the people, by blind guides, carried headlong to everlast- ing damnation: and therefore, he said," he could no longer endure, but must needs, and would utter their abominations ; and for his own part, for the testimony of his conscience, and for the defence of God's true religion, would yield himself most patiently (as near as God would give him grace) to die and to shed his blood therein ; alleging that his death should be more profitable to the church of God, and for the edi- fying of his people, than his life should be." To these persuasions his friends at length yielded, and promised to pray to God for him, that he might be made strong in the cause, and continue a faithful soldier to the end. He then gave directions for the distribution of such books as he had ; and shortly after, in the month t)f October, he wrote his mind on some scrolls of paper, which in the night he affixed upon the doors of the cathedral church of the city : on these papers was written ; " The pope is antichrist, and we ought to worship God only, and no saints." These bills being found, the clergy were all in alarm, and great search was made for the 314 BOOK OF MARTYRS. " heretic" who had set them up. Orders were ajiven that sermons should be preached every day to confute this heresy. Nevertheless Benet, keeping his own secret, went the Sunday following to the cathedral, and by chance sate tlown by two men who had been the busiest in all the city in seek- ing and searching for heretics; and they beholding Benet, said one to the other, " Surely this fel- low is the heretic that hath set up the bills, and it were good to exa- mine him." Nevertheless, when they had well beheld him, and saw the quiet and sober behaviour of the man, his attentiveness to the preacher, his godliness in the church, being always occupied in his book, which was a Testament in the Latin tongue, they were as- tonished, and had no power to speak to him, but departed, and left him reading his book. The priests being unable to dis- cover the perpetrator of this horri- ble deed, at length determined, to make his damnation sure, to curse him, whoever h^niight be; which was accordingly performed, with much mummery ; and as the whole proceeding affords a just view of the pietij, charity, and mercij of the Romish church, we give it here, for the edification of our readers. One of the priests, apparelled all in white, ascended into the pulpit. The rabble, with some of the two orders of friars and monks, standing round about, and the cross beii>g hoi den up with holy candles of wax fixed to the same, he began his sermon with this text from the book of .Joshua; Est hiasphemia in eastris: " there is blasphemy in the camp:" and after making a long, tedious, and superstitious preachment, con- cluded, that " that foul and abo- minable heretic which had put up such blasphemous bills, was for that his blasphemy damnably cursed; and besought God, our lady, St. Peter, patron of that church, with all the holy company of martyrs, confessors, and vir- gins, that it might be known what heretic had put up such blasphem- ous bills." Then followed the curse, uttered by the priest in these words : " By the authority of God the Father Almighty, and of the bless- ed Virgin Mary, of St. Peter and Paul, and of the holy saints, we excommunicate, we utterly curse and ban, commit and deliver to the devil of hell, him or her, whatso- ever he or she be, that have, in spite of God and of St. Peter, whose church this is, in spite of all holy saints, and in spite of our most holy father the pope, God's vicar here on earth, and in spite of the reverend Father in God, John our diocesan, and the worshipful canons, masters, and priests, and clerks, which serve God daily in this cathedral church, fixed up with wax such cursed and here- tical bills full of blasphemy, upon the doors of this and other holy churches within this city. Ex- communicate plainly be he or she plenally, or they, and delivered over to the devil, as perpetual ma- lefactors and schismatics. Ac- cursed might they be, and given body and soul to the devil. Cursed be they, he or she, in cities and towns, in fields, in ways, in paths, in houses, out of houses, and in all other places, standing, lying, or rising, walking, running, waking, sleeping, eating, drinking, and whatsoever thing they do besides. We separate them, him or her, from the threshold, and from all the good prayers of the church, from the participation of the holy mass, from all sacraments, cha- pels, and altars, from holy bread, and holy water, from all the merits of God's priests, and religious men, and from all their cloisters, from all their pardons, privileges, grants, and immunities, which all the holy fathers, popes of Rome, have granted to them: and we give them over utterly to the power of the fiend, and let us quench their souls, if they be dead, this night in the pains of hell fire, as this candle is now quenched and put PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 315 out" — (and with tljat he put out one of the candles:) — " and let us pray to God (if they be alive) that tiieir eyes may be put out, as this caudle light is" — (he then put out the other eandle:) "and let us pray to God, and to our lady, and to St. Peter and Paul, and all holy saints, that all the senses of their bodies may fail them, and that they may have no feeling, as now the light of this candle is gone" — (he put out the third can- dle)—" except they, he or she, come openly now and confess their blasphemy, and by repentance (as in them shall lie) make satisfaction unto God, our lady, St. Peter, and the worshipful company of this ca- thedral church; and as this holy cross staff now falleth down, so might they, except they repent, and shew themselves." Then, the cross being first taken away, the start" fell down. And the ignorant people were almost petrified with fear, at hearing this terribfe de- nunciation. Now this foolish fantasy and mockery being ended, which was to a Christian heart utterly ridicu- lous, Benet could no longer re- strain his laughter; upon which, those who were next to him, in great] surprise, asked him, " For what cause he should so laugh?" — " My friends," said he, " who can forbear, seeing such merry conceits and interludes V Imme- diately there was a cry, " Here is the heretic, here is the heretic! hold him fast, hold him fast, hold him fast!" He was accordingly seized; but his enemies, being un- certain of him, released him, and left him to go home to his house. However, being still more dis- gusted by the scene he had just witnessed, he renewed his former bills, and caused his boy, early in the following morning, to replace them upon the gates of the church- yard. As the boy was doing this, he was seen by a person going to early mass, who asking him, "whose boy he was," charged him as the heretic who had set up the bills upon the gates; where- fore, pulling down the bill, he brought it, together with the boy, before the mayor; and thereupon Benet, being known and taken, was committed to prison. The next day, the canons of the cathedral, and magistrates of the city jointly examined him. To them he confessed what he had done, saying, " It was even I that put up those bills, and if it were to do, I would do it again; for in them I have written nothing but what is very truth."—" Couldest not thou," asked they, " as well have declared thy mind by word of mouth, as by putting up bills of blasphemy?" — "No," said he; "I put up the bills, that many should read and hear what abominable blasphemers ye are, and that they might know your antichrist, the pope, to be that boar out of the wood, which destroyeth and throw- eth down the hedges of God's church ; for if I had been heard to speak but one word, I should have been clapped fast in prison, and the matter of God hidden. But now I trust more of your blasphe- mous doings will thereby be opened and come to light; for God will so have it, and no longer will suffer you." The next day he was sent to the bishop, who committed him to prison, where he was kept in stocks and strong irons. Then the bishop, with Dr. Brewer, his chan- cellor, and others of his clergy and friars, began to examine him, and charge him, that, contrary to the Catholic faith, he denied praying to saints, and the supremacy of the pope. To whom he answered in so correct a manner, and so learn- edly proved and defended his as- sertions, that he not only con- founded and put to silence his ad- versaries, but also filled them with great admiration of his abilities, and pity and compassion for his situation. The friars took great pains with him to persuade him to recant and acknowledge his fault, concerning the bills; but it was in vain, for God had appointed him to be a witness of his holy name. 316 BOOK OF MARTYRS. His house was then searched for books and papers; and his wife much ill-treated by the officers em- ployed; but she, being, like her husband, a member of Christ's true church, bore all their insults patiently, and " when they reviled her, answered them not again." Benet was now, during eight days, constantly beset by priests and friars, who tried all arts to in- duce him to be " reconciled" with the church of Rome ; but all their efforts were vain; he remained firm in the faith, and would not re- linquish ;the cross which he had taken up. The principal point between him and his opponents was touching the supremacy of the bishop of Rome, whom in his bills he had named, ^* Antichrist, the thief, the mercena - ry, and murderer of Christ's flock." They who had some learning per- suaded him to believe the church, and shewed by what tokens she is known. The unlearned railed, and said, "That the devil tempted him," and spit upon him, calling him he- retic. He prayed God to give them a better mind, and to forgive them : I "For," said he, " I will rather die, than worship such a beast, the very whore of Babylon, and a false usur- per, as manifestly doth appear by Ms doings." They asked, " What he did, that he had no power and authority to do, being God's vicar 1" — " He doth," replied he, "sell the sacraments for money, he selleth remission of sins daily for money, and so do you likewise : for there is no day but ye say divers masses for souls in purgatory : yea, and ye spare not to make lying sermons to the people, to maintain your false traditions, and foul gains. The whole world begins now to note your doings, to your utter confu- sion and shame." — " The shame," cried they, " shall be to thee, and such as thou, foul heretic. Wilt thou allow nothing done in holy church?" — "I am," said he, "no heretic; but a Christian, I thank Christ ; and with all my heart will allow ail things done and used in the church to the glory of God, and edifying of my soul : but I see no- thing in your church, but that main- taineth the devil." — " What is our church ?" asked they. " It is not my church," replied Benet. " God give me grace to be of a better church ; for verily your church is the church of antichrist, the malignant church, the second church, a den of thieves, and as far wide from the true universal and apostolic church as heaven is dis- tant from the earth." " Dost thou not think," said they, " that we pertain to the universal church?" — " Yes," answered he, " but as dead members, unto whom the church is not beneCcial: for your works are the devices of man, and your church a weak foundation ; for ye say and preach, that the pope's word is equal with God's in every degree." — " Why," asked they, " did not Christ say to Peter, To thee I will give the keys of the kingdom of Heaven?" — " He said that," replied he, " to all as well as to Peter, and Peter had no moreauthority given him than they, or else the churches planted in every kingdom by their preach- ing are no churches. Doth not St. Paul say, ' Upon the foundations of the apostles and prophets?' Therefore, I say plainly, that the church that is built upon a man, is the devil's church, or congregation and not God's. And as every church this day is appointed to be ruled by a bishop or pastor, or- dained by the word of God in preaching and administration of the sacraments under the prince, the supreme governor under God ; so to say, that all the churches, with their princes and governors, be subject to one bishop, is detest- able heresy ; and the pope, your God, challenging this power to himself, is the greatest schismatic that ever was." " O thou blind and unlearned fool!" cried they, " is not the con- fession and consent of all the world as we confess and consent; that the pope's holiness is the su- preme head and vicar of Christ?" " That is," said Benet, " because PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 317 they are blinded, and know not the scriptures ; but if God would of his mercy open the eyes of princes to know their office, his false supremacy would soon de- cay."— " We think," said they, " thou art so malicious, that thou wilt confess no church." — " Look," said he, " where they are that confess the true name of Jesus Christ, where only Christ is the head, and under him the prince of the realm, to order bishops, mi- nisters, and preachers, and to see them do their duties in setting forth the glory of God by preach- ing his ward ; and where it is preached, that Christ is our only advocate, mediator, and patron before his Father, making inter- cession for us ; and where the true faith and confidence in Christ's death and passion, and his only merits and deservings are extolled, and our own de- pressed ; where the sacrament is duly, without superstition or ido- latry, administered in remembrance of his blessed passion, and only sacrifice uponthe cross once for all, and where no superstition reigu- eth ; of that church will I be." " Doth not the pope," asked they, "confess the true gospel? do not we all the same T" — " Yes," said he, " but ye deny the fruits thereof in every point. Ye build upon the sands, not upon the rock." — " And wilt thou not believe in- deed," said they, " that the pope is God's vicar?" — " No," said he, " indeed!" — " And why?" — " Be- cause he usurpeth a power not given him of Cbrist, no more than to other apostles ; also, because, by force of that usurped suprema- cy, he blinds the whole world, and doth contrary to all that e^er Christ ordained or commanded." " What," said they, " if he do all things after God's ordinance and commandment, should he then be his vicar?" — " Then," said he, " would I believe him to be a good bishop at Rome over his own diocese, and to have no further power. And if it pleased God, I would every bishop did this in their diocese : then should we live a peaceable life in the church of Christ, and there should be no seditions therein. If every bishop would seek no further power, it were a goodly thing. But now, because all are subject to one, all must do and consent to all wickedness as he doth, or be none of his. This is the cause of great superstition in every kingdom ; and what bishop soever he be that preacheth the gospel, and main- tained the truth, is a true bishop of the church." — " And doth not," said they, " our holy father the pope maintain the gospel ?" — " Yea," said he, " I think he doth read it, and peradventure believe it, and so do you also ; but neither he nor you do fix the anchor of your salvation therein. Besides that, ye bear such a good will to it, that ye keep it close, that no man may read it but yourselves. And when you preach, God knows how you handle it : insomuch, that the people of Christ know no gospel but the pope's ; and so the blind lead the blind, and both fall into the pit." Then said a black friar to him, "Thou blockhead! do we not preach the gospel daily?" — " Yes," replied Benet, " but what preach- ing of the gospel is that, when you extol superstitious things, and make us believe that we have re- demption through pardons and bulls from Rome, a poena ^- culpa, as ye term it? and by the merits of your orders ye make many brethren and sisters, ye take year- ly money of them, ye bury them in your coats, and in shrift ye beguile them : yea, and do a thousand su- perstitious things more ; a man may be weary to speak of them." — " I see," cried the liberal friar, " thou art a damned wretch ! I M'ill have no more talk with thee." After thi^, another of the same order addressed him, and endea- voured to shake his faith by repre- senting to him the great dangers to which he exposed himself. " I take God to record," said Benet, " my life is not dear to me ; I am 31B BOOK OF MARTYRS. content to depart from it ; for I am weary of it, seeing your detestable doings, to the utter destruction of God's flock; and, for my part, I can no longer forbear ; I had rather, by death, which I know is not far off, depart this life, that I may no longer be partaker of your idola- tries, or be subject to antichrist, your pope." — " Our pope," said the friar, " is the vicar of God, and our ways are the ways of God." — " T pray you," cried Benet, " de- part from me, and tell not me of your ways. He is only my way which saith, ' I am the way, the truth, and the life.' In this way will I walk, his doings shall be my example, not your's, nor your pope's. His truth will I embrace, not your falsehood. His everlast- ing life will 1 seek, the true re- ward of all faithful people. Vex my soul no longer ; ye will not pre- vail. There is no good example in you, no truth in you, no life to be hoped for at your hands. Ye are more vain than vanity itself. If I should hear and follow you, everlasting death would hang over me, a just reward for all that love the life of this world." His enemies, at length, finding both their threats and their persua- sions equally useless, proceeded to judgment, and condemned him to the flames ; which being done, and the writ which they had pro- cured being brought from London, they delivered him, on the 15th of January, 1531, to sir Thomas Den- nis, knight, then sheriff of Devon- shire, to be burned. The holy martyr, rejoicing that his end approached so near, yield- ed himself, with all humbleness, to abide and suffer the cross of persecution. And being brought to the place of execution, near Exeter, he made his humble con- fession and prayer unto Almighty God, and requested all the people present to pray for him ; exhorting them, at the same time, with such gravity and sobriety, and with such force of language, to seek the true knowledge and honour of God, and to leave the vain imaginations of man's invention, that all the hearers were astonished, and in great admiration ; and most of them confessed that he was God's ser- vant, and a good man. Nevertheless, two gentlemen, named Thomas Carcw and John Barnehouse, standing at the stake by him, first with promises and fair words, but at length with threat- enings, urged him to revoke his er- rors, to call to our lady and the saints, and to say, " Precor sanctam Mariam, S: omnes sanctos Dei," &c. To whom he, with all meekness, answered, saying, " No, no ; it is God only upon whose name we must call, and we have no other advocate to him but Jesus Christ, Mho died for us, and now sitteth at the right hand of the Father to be an advocate for us, and by liim must we ofler and make our pray- ers to God, if we will have them to take place and be heard." With which answer Barnehouse was so enraged, that he took a furze-bush upon a pike, and setting it on fire, thrust it into his face, saying, " Heretic ! pray to our lady, and say, Sancta Maria, ora pro nobis, or by God's wounds I will make thee do it." To whom the martyr meekly and patiently answered, " Alas, Sir, trouble me not;" and holding up his haiids, he said, " Pater ignosce illis." Whereupon the persecutors caused the wood and furze to be set on fire, and Benet, lifting up his eyes and hands to Heaven, cried out, " O Doniine, recipe spi- ritum meum." And so co'ntinued in his prayers, until his life was ended. MARTYRDOM OF LAUNCELOT, JOHN, A PAINTER, AND GILES GERMAN. About the year 1539, John, a painter, and Giles German, were accused of heresy ; and whilst they were in examination at London be- fore the bishop and other judges, by chance there came in one of the king's servants, named Launcelot, a very tall man, and of a godly mind and disposition. This man standing by, seemed, by his countenance and gestures, to favour both the cause and the PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 3ig poor prisoners, who were his friends. Whereupon, he being apprehended, was examined and condemned to- gether with them ; and tlie next day, at Jive o'clock in the morning, all three were carried together to St. Giles's in the Fields, and there burned ; there being but a small number of people present at their death. MARTYRDOM OF STILE. Among other blessed saints and -martyrs of Christ, who innocently suffered, and were burned in Smith- field about the latter end of Cuth- bert Tonstall's time, (bishop of London) was one called Stile. With him there was burned also a book of the Apocalypse, which he was known frequently to read. When he saw this book fastened to lihe stake to be burned with him, lift- ing up his voice, " O blessed Apo- calypse," cried he, " how happy am I that I shall be burned with thee !" And so this good man and the blessed Apocalypse were both together consumed in the fire. MARTYRDOM OF JOHN BROWN. Even so early as the second year of Henry VIII. 's reign, one John Brown was burned at Ashford, in Kent, by order of archbishop War- ham, on the following grounds. Passing down to Gravesend in the common barge, a priest was amongst other passengers, who, disdaining that Brown should sit so near him in the barge, asked him, with a loud voice and disdainful countenance, " Dost thou know who I am ? Thou sittest too near me, and sittest on my- clothes." — " No, Sir," said Brown, " I know not what you are." — " I tell thee," quoth he, " I am a priest." — " What, Sir, are you a parson, or vicar, or some lady's chaplain ?" — " No, I am a soul priest, I sing for a soul." — " Do you so, Sir," cried Brown, " that is well done ; I pray you. Sir, where find you the soul when you go to mass ?" — " I cannot tell thee," said the priest. " I pray you, where do you leave it. Sir, when the mass is done?" — " I cannot tell thee," re- plied the priest — " You cannot tell where to find it when you go to mass, nor where you leave it when the mass is done? — how can you then save the soul ?" asked Brown, — ," Go thy ways," said the priest, unable to answer him; " I perceive thou art an heretic, and I will be even with thee." On landing, the priest rode straight to archbishop Warliam ; and John Brown, within three days after, was sent for by the archbi- shop. The messengers who were sent for him, came suddenly into his house ; and laying hands upon him, they set him upon his own horse, and binding his feet under the belly of the beast, carried him away to Canterbury, (neither he, nor his wife, nor any of his friends, knowing whither he was going) and there confined him for forty days. The archbishop finding him, on exa- mination, to be a friend to the doc- trines of those who preached pure Christianity, in opposition to po- pery and priestcraft, caused his bare feet to be set upon hot burn- ing coals, to make him deny his faith ; which, however, he would not do, but patiently abiding the pain, continued unshaken in his profession. At length, after this cruelty, he was, on the Friday be- fore Whit-sunday, sent to Ashford, (where his wife still dwelt,) with orders that he should be burned the next day. His wife, who was hitherto igno- rant of all that had happened to liim, being now informed of his coming, hastened to him, and find- ing him in the stocks, and ap- pointed to be burned the next morning, sat by him all night long. To her he then declared how he had been treated, and how his feet were burned to the bones by the archbishop of Canterbury and bishop of Rochester, " and all to make me," said he, "to deny my Lord, which I will never do; for should I deny him in this world, he would deny me here- after. And, therefore, I pray thee, good Elizabeth, continue as thou hast begun, and bring up thy 3 320 BOOK OF MARTYRS. children virtuously in the fear of God." On the next day, being Whitsun- eve, this godly martyr was burned, according to his sentence ; and, standing at the stake, he uttered this prayer, holding up his hands : I yield, O Lord, unto thy grace, O, let thy mercy crown my race. Let not the fiend my soul pursue, "When death is near, and just in view \ But while by envious foes I'm driven^ Save me from hell, and give me Heavefl* We shall conclude our account of the persecutions under Henry VIII. with the story and martyr- dom of William Tiadall, who, al- though he did not sufler in Eng- land, ought to be ranked with the martyrs of our country, of which, from his great zeal and perse- verance in the dispersion of truth, he may properly bo esteemed the apostle, LIFE AND MARTYRDOM OF WILLIAM TINDALL. William Tindall was born about the borders of Wales, and brought up, from a child, in the university of Oxford, where, by long conti- nuance, he grew up, and increased as well in the knowledge of tongues and other liberal arts, as in the knowledge of the scriptures, to the study of which he was much addicted ; insomuch, that being then in Magdalen-hall, he read pri- rately to some of the students and fellows of Magdalen college, in divinity; instructing them in the knowledge and truth of the scriptures ; and all that knew him reputed and esteemed him to be a man of most virtuous disposition, and of unspotted life. Having remained some time at Oxford, he removed to the univer- sity of Cambridge, where, having made great progress in his studies, he quitted that place, and going to Gloucestershire, engaged himself to a knight named Welch, as tutor to his children. To this gentle- man's hospitable table used to re- sort several abbots, deans, and other beneficed clergymen, with whom Tindall used to converse on the subjects which at that time principally occupied the attention of all persons — viz. divinity, and the scriptures. Tindall, being learned and Well acquainted with tlie sacred writ- ings, would at first simply avow his opinions, and if those with whom he discoursed objected to his reasonings, he would shew them the book, and lay plainly before them the open and manifest language of the scriptures^ to" confute their errors, and confirm his sayings. And thus they con- tinued for a time, reasoning and contending togetlrer, till at leiigth his opponents became envious, and bore a secret grudge in their hearts against him. Not long after this, it happened tliat some of these doctors invited Mr. Welch and his wife to a ban- quet, where they spoke to them without the fear of contradiction, uttering their blindness and igno- rance. Then Welch and his wife coming home, and calling for Mr. Tindall, began to reason with him about those matters ; when Tin- dall, as usual, answered by scrip- tures, maintained the truth, and reproved their false opinions. Then said the lady Welch, a worldly- wise woman, " Well, there was such a doctor, which may spend an hundred, another two hundred, and another three hundred pounds' and were it reason, think you, that we should believe you before them ?" Tindall gave no answer to this display of purse-proud igno- rance at that time, and after that, as he saw it would not much avail, he talked but little of those matters. At that time he was about the translation of a book called Enc/ii^ ridion mllitis Christiani, wh\c\\ being finished, he delivered to Mr. Welch and his lady: and after they had well perused the same, they were awakened, in some measure ; and the prelates and abbots were not so often invited to their house, neither were they so heartily wel- comed when they came, as before ; which they perceiving, and con- PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 321 eluding that it came by the means of Tindall, at last entirely absented themselves from the house. Upon this, the priests of the country concerting together, began to rail against Tindall, in ale- houses and other places. Tindall himself, in his prologue before the first book of Moses, thus mentions their ill-treatment of him. " I suffered much," says he, " in that ceuntry by a sort of unlearned priests, being rude and ignorant, God knoweth ; which have seen no more Latin than that only which they read in their portesses and missals ; which yet many of them can scarcely read, except it be Albertus de secrctis muHernm^ in which yet, though they be never so sorrily learned, they pore day and night, and make notes therein, and all to teach the midwives, a» they say ; and also another called Lindwood, a book of constitutions to gather tithes, mortuaries, offer- ings, customs, and other pillage, which they call not theirs, but God's part, the duty of holy- church, to discharge their con- sciences withal. For they are bound that they shall not diminish but increase all things unto the ut- termost of their powers, which per- tain to holy-church." The burning cf the Rev. John Rogers, Vicar of St.iSepulchre's, in Smithfield, A. D. 1555. But these blind priests did not only revile him ; but, by perverting what he really said, and adding many false and malicious lies of their own, made out a charge of he- resy against him, on which he was accused, and summoned before the bishop's chancellor. FOX'S MARTYRS. When he appeared before the chancellor, that officer " threatened him grievously, reviling and rating at him as though he had been a dog, and laid to his charge many things whereof no accuser yet could be brought forth, notwith- standing that the priests of the 21 322 BOOK OF MARTYRS. country were there present." As thej' were unable to substantiate their charges, Tindall returned home again. Not long after, Tindall happened to be in company with a certain di- viiie, who was accounted a learned man, and in disputing with him, the doctor, overcome by passion, burst out with these blasphemous words, " We were better to be without God's laws than the pope's." Mr. Tindall hearing this, full of f^odly zeal, and shocked by that blasphemous saying, replied, " I defy the pope, and all his laws ;" and added, " If God spare my life, ere many years, I will cause a boy that driveth the plough to know more of the Scripture than you do." After this, the grudge of the ' priests increasing more and more against Tindall, they never ceased railing at him, and laid many things to his charge, saying, " That he was an heretic in sophistry,- in logic, and in divinity ;" and, " That, although he conducted himself boldly to the gentlemen in that county, shortly he should be other- wise talked withal." To whom ' Tindall replied, " That he was con- tented they should bring him into any county in England, giving him ten pounds a year to live with, and binding him to no more, but to teach children, and to preach." In short, being constantly molest- ed and vexed by the priests, he was constrained to leave that part of the country, and to seek another residence ; and so coming to Mr. Welch, he requested his permission to depart, saying, " Sir, I perceive that 1 shall not be suffered to tarry long here in this country, neither shall you be able, thoug*!! you would, to keep me out of the hands of the spiritualty ; and also what displea- sure might grow thereby to you by keeping me, God knoweth, for the which I should be sorry." He ac- cordingly departed, and came up to London, and there preached awhile. At length, recollectingthegreat com- mendations bestowed by Erasmus on Tonstall, then bishop of London, he thought that it miglit be very ad- vantageous for him, if he could ob- tain a situation in his service. He accordingly waited on sir Henry Gilford, the king's comptroller, and bringing with him an oration of Isocrates, which he had translated out of Greek into English, he de- sired him to speak to the bishop for him ; which he did ; and de-' sired Tindall to write to Tonstall, who accordingly did so, and de- livered his epistle to a servant. But God, who secretly disposes all things, saw that was not the best for Tindall's purpose, nor for the profit of his church, and therefore allowed him not to find favour in the bishop's sight, who said, " That his house was full ; he had more than he could well maintain ; and advised him to seek elsewhere in London ; " where," he said, " he could lack no service." Tindall, therefore, remained in London almost a year, during which time he remarked the demeanour of the preachers, how they boasted of themselves, and set up their au- thority and kingdom ; also the pomp of the prelates, with many other things which greatly vexed him, and plainly convinced him, that England was no place for him to translate the New Testament. Having, therefore, obtained some assistance from his friend Humfry Munmouth, and other good men, he departed to Germany ; where, being inflamed with zeal for his country, he studied, by all possible means, to bring his countrymen to the same understanding of God's holy word and verity, as he him- self, by God's blessing, enjoyed. He perceived, that the principal cause of the people's blindness, and of the gross errors of the church, with all their evils, was the scrip- tures being concealed in an un- known tongue, by which the truth was kept out of sight, and the cor- ruptions of the priests remained' undetected; and therefore all the labour of these m.en was to keep it down, so that either it should not be read at all, or if it were, they would darken the right sense PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION; 323 with the mist of tJieir sophistry, "and so entangle those who rebuked or despised their abominations, worldly similitudes, and appa- rent reasons of natural wisdom, and by wresting the Scripture to their own purpose, contrary to the meaning of the text, would so de- lude and amaze the unlearned people, that though they were sure that all were false, yet could they not solve those subtle riddles. By these and such other consi- derations this good man was moved and stirred up of God, to translate the Scripture into his mother tongue, for the utility and profit of the simple people of the country. He began with the New Testament, which he translated about the year 1527. After that he took in hand the Old Testa- ment, finishing the five books of Moses, with learned and godly prefaces to every book, as he had also done upon the New Testa- ment. He also wrote various other works, amongst which was, " The Obedience of a Christian man," wherein with singular dexterity he instructed all men in the office and duty of Christian obedience; ano- ther treatise was entituled, " The wicked Mammon, the practice of Prelates;" with expositions upon certain parts of Scripture, and other books, in answer to sir Tho- mas More, and other adversaries of the truth. His books being published, and sent over to England, it cannot be imagined, what a door of light they opened to the eyes of the ■whole nation, which before had been during several centuries shut up in darkness. At his first departure, he had journeyed into Saxony, where he had a conference with Luther, and other learned men; and after making a short stay there, he went into the Netherlands, and resided mostly in the town of Antwerp. An unfortunate accident occa- sioned a considerable delay in the publication of his Old Testament. Having finished the five books of Moses, he set sail to Hamburgh, with the intention of printing them there. But, on his voyage, he was shipwrecked, and lost all his manuscripts, with almost all he possessed. He, however, in ano- ther vessel, pursued his voyage, and arriving at -Hamburgh, Mr. Coverdale helped him in the re- translating what had been lost, which occupied them from Easter till December, 1629, in the house of a Miss Margaret Van Emmer- sou. Having dispatched his busi- ness, he returned to Antwerp. When the New Testament was ready for publication, Tindall added at the end, a letter, wherein he desired the learned to amend whatever they found in it amiss. But the bishops and other clergy, not willing to have that book to prosper, cried out against it, as- serting that there were a thousand heresies in it, and that it was not to be corrected, but utterly sup- pressed. Some said it was not possible to translate the Scripture into English; others, that it was not lawful for the laity to have it in their mother tongue, as it would make them all heretics. And to induce the temporal rulers to as- sist them in their purpose, they said that it would make the people rebel, and rise against the king. The bishops and prelates of the realm, thus incensed and inflamed in their mindSj and conspiring to- gether, how to suppress the cause of their alarm, never rested, till they had brought the king at last to issue a proclamation ordaining that the Testament of Tindall's translation, with his other works, And those of other reformed wri- ters, should be suppressed and burnt. This was about the year -1527. But, not contented with this, the bloodthirsty crew pro- ceeded further, and strove to en- tangle him in their nets, and to bereave him of his life. Whenever the bishops, or sir Thomas More had any poor man under examination before them, who had been at Antwerp, they most studiously would search and 3 324 BOOK OF MARTYRS. examine into every thing relating to Tindali; as, where and with whom he lodged ; what was his stature; in what apparel he went; what company he liept, &c. ; and when they had made themselves acquainted with all these things, they then began their work of dark- ness. Tindali being in the town of Antwerp, had lodged, about a year, in the house of Thomas Pointz, an Englishman, who kept there an house for English mer- chants, when Henry Philips, in ap- pearance a gentleman, and having a servant with him, arrived there ; but wherefore he came, or for what purpose he was sent thither, no man could tell. Tindali was frequently invited to dinner and supper amongst merchants, by which means, this Henry Philips became acquainted with him; so that in a short time Tindali conceived a great friend- ship and confidence for him, brought him to his lodging in the house of Pointz, and had him also once or twice to dinner and sup- per, and further entered into such friendship with him, that he brought him to lodge in the house of Pointz. He also shewed him his books and papers; so little did he then mistrust this traitor. But Pointz having no great con- fidence in the fellow, asked Tindali how he came acquainted with him. Tindali answered, that he was an honest man, tolerably learned, and \ery agreeable. Then Pointz, perceiving that he was so partial to him, said no more, thinking that he was brought acquainted with him by some friend of his. Philips being in the town three or four days, desired Pointz to walk out with him; and in walk- ing together without the town, they conversed on various sub- jects, and on some of the king's aflairs; by which talk Pointz as yet suspected nothing, but, by the sequel, he perceived what had been intended. In the mean time he learned, that he bore no great good will to the raformation, or to the proceedings of the king of Eng'- land, and perceived about him a deal of mystery and a sort of court- ing him to make him subservient to his designs, by the hopes of re- ward, he always appearing very full of money. But Pointz kept at a distance. Philips, finding that he could not bring him 'over to his designs, went from Antwerp to the court at Brussels; and, although the king had then no ambassador there, being at variance with the em- peror, this traitor contrived to bring from thence with him to Ant- werp, the procurator-general, (the emperor's attorney), with other of- ficers ; which was done at great expence. A short time after, Pointz sit- ting at his door, Philips's servant came to him, and asking whether Mr. Tindali were there, said, his master would come to him, and so departed. But whether Philips were then in the town or not, was not known ; for at that time Pointz saw no more either of the master or of the man. Within three or four days after, Pointz went on business to the town of Barrow, eighteen English miles from Antwerp, and in the time of his absence, Philips came again to the house of Pointz, and coming in, asked Mrs. Pointz for Mr. Tindali, and whether he would dine there with him, saying, "What good meat shall we have?" She answered, " Such as the market will give." Then he went out again, and set the oflScers which he brought with him from Brussels, in the street, and about the door. About noon he returned, and went to Mr. Tindali, and desired him to lend him forty shillings ; " for," said he, " I lost my purse this morning, coming over at the pas- sage between this and Mechlin." So Tindali gave him forty shillings, being very easily imposed upon, and entirely unskilled in the wiles and subtleties of this world. Philips then said, " Mr. TindalJ, you shall be my guest here to-day." " No," said Tindali, " I am en- PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 325 ga^ed this day to dinner, and you shall go with me, and be my guest, where you shall be welcome." So when it was dinner time, they went. At the going out of Pointz's house, was a long narrow entry, so that two could not go in front. Tindall would have put Philips before him, but Philips would not go, but insisted on Tindall's going before. So Tindall, being a man of no great stature, went before, and Philips, a tall, comely person, followed him ; and having set ofli- cers on each side of the door on coming through. Philips pointed with his finger over Tindall's head down to him, that the officers might see that it was he whom they should take, as they afterwards told Pointz, and said, that when they had laid him in prison, "they pitied his simplicity when they took him." They accordingly seized him, and brought him to the emperor's procurator-general, where he dined. Then came the procurator-general to the house of Pointz, and sent away all that was there of Mr. Tindall's, as well his books as other things, and from thence Tindall was conveyed to the castle of Filford, eighteen miles from Antwerp, where he re- mained until he was put to death. Some Englisli merchants hearing lOf his apprehension, sent letters in his favour to the court of Brus- sels. Also, not long after, letters were sent from England to the council at Brussels, and to the merchant adventurers at Antwerp, commanding them to see that those for the council were instantly de- livered. Then such of the chief of the merchants as were there at that time, being called together, required Pointz to deliver those letters, with letters also from them in favour of Tindall, to the lord of Barrow and others. The lord of Barrow at that time had departed from Brussels, as the chief conductor of the eldest daugh- ter of the king of Denmark, to be married to the palsgrave, whose mother was sister to the emperor. Pointz, when he heard of his de- parture, rode after and overtook him at Achon, where he delivered to him his letters ; to which he made no direct answer, but some- what objecting, said, " There were some of his countrymen who had been burned in England not long before ;" as indeed there were anabaptists burned in Smithfield, which Pointz acknowledged. " Howbeit," said he, " whatsoever the crime was, if your lordship or any other nobleman had written, requiring to have had them, I think they should not have been denied." — " Well," said he, " I have no leisure to write, for the princess is ready to ride." Then said Pointz, " If it please your lordship, I will attend upon you unto the next baiting place," which was at Maestricht. " If you will," replied he, " I will advise myself by the way what to write." Upon this, Pointz followed him from Achon to Maestricht, fifteen English miles, and there he receiv- ed letters of him, one to the council at Brussels, another to the com- pany of the merchant adventurers, and a third to the lord Cromwell in England. Pointz then rode to Brussels, and there delivered to the council the letters from England, with the lord of Barrow's letters also, and received answers for England, which he brought to Antwerp to the English merchants, who re- quired him to carry them into Eng- land. He, very desirous to have Mr. Tindall out of prison, forbore no pains, nor regarded the loss of time in his own business, but im- mediately sailed with the letters, which he delivered to the council, and was commanded by them to wait until he had answers, which was not till a month after. At length receiving them, he returned again, and delivered them to the emperor's council at Brussels, and there waited for their answer. When he had remained there three or four days, he was told by a person who belonged to the chanc«ry, that Tindall should have BOOK OF MARTYRS. 326 be^n delivered to him according to the tenor of the letters ; but Philips being: there, followed the suit against Tindall, and hearing that he was to be delivered to Pointz, and doubting lest he should thus lose his victim, determined to accuse Pointz also, saying, " That he was a dweller in the town of Antwerp, and there had been a succourer of Tindall, and was one of the same opinion ; and that all this was only his own labour and sr.it, to have Tindkll at liberty, and no man else." Thus, upon his information and accusation, Pointz was attached by the procurator-general, deli- vered to the custody of two scr» jeants at arms ; and the same even- ing was examined by a person be- longing to the chancery, with the procurator-general, who put him to his oath, that he should truly make answer to all such things as should be inquired of him. The next day likewise they came again, and farther examined him ; and so five or six days one after another, upon more than an hundred articles, as well of the king's affairs, as of the messages concerning Tindall, of his aiders, and of his religion. Out of which examinations, the procurator-general drew up twen- ty-three or twenty-four articles against Pointz, the copy whereof he delivered to him to make an- swer to, and permitted him to have an advocate and proctor ; and it was ordered that eight days after he should deliver to them his an- swer ; also tliat he should send no messenger to Antwerp, nor to any other place, but by the post of the town of Brussels; nor send any letters, nor any to be delivered to him, but such as were written in Dutch, and the procurator-general, who was party against him, was to peruse and examine them thoroughly, contrary to all right and equity, before they were sent or delivered : neither was any per- son sufl'ered to speak or talk with him in any other tongue or lan- guage, except the Dutch, so that his keepers, who were Dutchmen, might understand what was said. After this, Pointz delivered his an- swer to the procurator-general, and afterwards, at intei-vals of eight days each, replications and answers were made by both parties. When the commissioners came to Pointz, the traitor Philips* ac- companied them to the door, as following the process against him : as he also did against Tindall. Thus Pointz was exposed to much trouble and suflering, on account of his generous exertions ia favour of Tindall. He was long kept in prison ; but at length, when he saw no other remedy, by night he made his escape. But the pious Tindall could not so escape, but remained during a year and a half in prison; and then being brought to his trial, was offered to have an advocate and a proctor. But he refused the offer, saying, "That he would answer for himself;" and so he did. At last, after much reasoning, where all reason was disregarded, he was condemned by virtue of the emperor's decree, made in the as- sembly at Augsburgh, and brought to the place of execution, where he was tied to the stake, and then strangled first by the hangman, and afterwards consumed with fire in the town of Filford, a. d. 1536 ; crying thus at the stake with a fervent zeal, and a loud voice, " Lord, open the king of England's eyes." Such was the pov/er of the doc- trine, and sincerity of the life of this amiable man, and glorious martyr, that during his imprison- ment, he converted the keeper, his daughter, and others of his house- hold. Also all that were conver- sant with him in the castle ac- knowledged that "if he were not a good Christian, they could not tell whom to trust." Even the procurator-general left this testimony of him, that "he * It is said that Philips, who betrayed Tindall and Pointz, died of a loathsome disease, being consumed by vermin, who preyed upon his living carcass. PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. ^27 was a learned, an excellent, and a godly man." To enmncrate the virtues and actions of tliis blessed martyr, would require much time, and many pages. Suffice to say, that he was one of those who by his works shone as a sun of light amidst a dark world, and gave evidence, that he was a faithful servant of his master and saviour, Jesus Christ. SECTION IV. PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND, DURING THE FIFTEENTH AND PART OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. Having brought our account of the sufferings and martyrdoms of the English reformers down to the death of Henry the Eighth, we shall now proceed to relate the cruel persecutions of God's faith- ful servants in Scotland, to the ,same period ; but it will previously be necessary to give a short sketch of the progress of the reformation in that country. The long alliance between Scot- land and France, had rendered the two nations extremely attached to each other ; and Paris was the place where the learned of Scot- land had their education. Yet early in the fifteenth century, learning was more encouraged in Scotland, and universities were founded in several episcopal sees. About the same time some of Wickliffe's followers began to show themselves in Scotland ; and an Englishman, named Resby, was burnt in 1407 for teaching some opinions contrary to the pope's authority. Some years after that, Paul Craw, a Bohemian, who had been converted by Huss, was burnt for infusing the opinions of that martyr into some persons at St. Andi-ew's. About the end of the fifteenth century, LoUardy, as it was then called, spread itself into many parts of the diocese of Glasgow, for which several persons of quality were accused; but they answered the archbishop of that see with so much boldness and tnith, that he dismissed tiKjm, having admo- nished them to content themselves with the faith of the church, and to beware of new doctrines. The same spirit of ignorance, immorality, and superstition, had over-run the church of Scotland that was so much complained of in other parts of Europe. The total neglect of the pastoral care, and the scandalous lives of the clergy, filled the people with such prejudices against them, that they were easily disposed to hearken to new preachers, among the most conspicuous of whom was Patrick Hamilton. STORY AND MARTYRDOM OF PA- TRICK HAMILTON. This noble martyr was nephew, by his father, to the earl of Arran, and by his mother, to the duke of Albany. He was educated for the church, [and would have been highly preferred, having an abbey given him for prosecuting his studies. But, going over to Ger- many, and studying at the univer- sity of Marpurg, he soon distin- guished himself by his zeal, as- siduity, and great progress, par- ticularly in the scriptures, which were his grand object, and to which he made every thing else subser- vient. He also became acquainted with Luther and Melancthon ; and being convinced, from his own researches, of the truth of their doctrines, he burned to impart the light of the gospel to his ov.n countrymen, and to shew them the errqrs and corruptions of their church. For tliis great purpose he returned to Scotland. After preaching some time, and holding up the truth to his deluded countrymen, he was, at length, in- vited to St. Andrew's, to confer upon the points in question. But his enemies could not stand the light, and finding they could not 328 BOOK OF MARTYRS. defend themselves by argument, resolved upon revenge. Hamilton •was accordingly imprisoned. Ar- ticles were exhibited against him, iu which he was charged with hav- ing denied free-will ; advocated justification by faith alone; and declared that faith, hope, and cha- rity, are so linked together, that one cannot exist in the breast with- out the other. Upon his refusing to abjure these doctrines, Beaton, archbishop of St. Andrew's, with the archbishop of Glasgow, three bishops, and five abbots, condemned him as an obstinate heretic, delivered him to the secular power, and ordered bis execution to take place that very afternoon ; for the king had gone in pilgrimage to Ross, and they weie afraid, lest, upon his return, Hamilton's friends might have interceded effectually for him. When he was tied to the stake, he expressed great joy in his sufier- ings, since by these he was to enter into everlasting life. A train of powder being fired, it did not kindle the fuel, but only burnt his face, which occasioned a delay till more powder was brought; and iu that time the friars continually urged him to recant, and pray to the Virgin, saying the Salve Reyina. Among the rest, a friar named Campbel, who had been often with him in prison, was very officious. Hamil- ton answered him, that he knew he was not a heretic, and had confessed it to Mm in private, and charged him to answer for that at the throne of Almighty God*. By this time the gunpowder was brought, and the fire being kindled, he died, repeating these words, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit! How long, oh Lord ! how long shall darkness overwhelm this kingdom? and how long wilt thou suffer the tyranny of these men ?" He suffered death in the year 1627. The views and doctrines of this * A short time after this, Campbel be- came mad, and died irithin a year. glorious martyr were such as could not fail to excite the highest admi- ration of every real believer ; and they were expressed with such brevity, such clearness, and such peculiar vigour an.d beauty (form- ing in themselves a complete sum- mary of the gospel) that they af- forded instruction to all who sought to know more of God. The force of the truths preached by Hamilton, the firmness of his death, and the singular catastrophe of friar Campbel, made strong im- pressions on the people; and many received the new opinions. Sea- ton, a Dominican, the king's con- fessor, preaching in Lent, set out the nature and method of true re- pentance, without mixing the di- rections which the friars commonly gave on that subject; and when another friar attempted to shew the defectiveness of what he had taught, Seaton defended himself in another sermon, and reflected on those bishops who did not preach, calling them dumb-dogs. But the clergy dared not meddle with him, till they had by secret insinuations ruined his credit with the king ; and the freedom he used in reproving him for his vices, quickly alienated James from him ; upon which he withdrew into Eng- land, and wrote to the king, taxing the clergy for their cruelty, and praying him to restrain it. MARTYRDOM OF HENRY FOREST. Within a few years after the martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton, Henry Forest, a young friar of Lithgow, said, that Hamilton died a martyr, and that the doctrines, for preaching which he sufiered, were true. For this he was ap- prehended and committed to pri- son by James Beaton, archbishop of St. Andrew's ; who, shortly after, caused a friar, named Walter Laing, to hear his confession. Henry Forest, in secret confes- sion, declared on his conscience, that he thought Hamilton to be a good man, and wrongfully put to death, and that his doctrines were tnie, and not heretical ; upon PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 329 which the friar came and related to the bishop the confession which he had received. This was taken as sufficient evi- dence against him ; and he was accordingly declared to be " an heretic, equa'l in iniquity with Patrick Hamilton," and sentenced to sutler death. When the day for his execution arrived, he was brought before the clergy in a place, between the castle of St. Andrew's and Mony- maill. As soon as he entered, and saw the faces of the clergy, he cried with a loud voice, " Fie on falsehood, fie on false friars, re- vealers of confession : after this day let no man ever trust any false friars, contemners of God's word, and deceivers of men." They then proceeded to degrade him of his friar's orders, and he said, with a loud voice, *' Take from me not only your own orders, but also your own baptism ;" mean- ing thereby whatever had been added by papistry to that which Christ himself instituted. Then, after his degradation, they con- demned him " as an heretic equal with Patrick Hamilton :" and so he suffered death for his faithful testimony of the truth of Christ and his gospel, near the abbey church of St. Andrew. Several others were brought into the bishops' courts, of whom the greatest part abjured ; but two suffered in the year 1534. These were NORMAN GOURLAY, AND DAVID STRATTON. Gourlay had said, that there was no such place as purgatory, and that the pope was not a bishop, but Antichrist, and had no juris- diction in Scotland. — David Strat- ton was a fisherman ; he also said there was no purgatory ; that the passion of Christ was the only ex- piation for sin, and that the tribu- lations of this world were the only sufferings that the saints under- went. When the vicar asked him for his tithe-fish, Stratton cast them to him out of the boat, so that some fell into the sea ; on which the other accused him as having said, that no tithes should be paid. These two, although greatly so- licited by the archbishop and others of the clergy, refused to re- cant, and were, accordingly, con- demned as obstinate heretics, and sentenced to be burned upon the green side between Leith and Edinburgh, with a view to strike terror into the surrounding coun- try. In the afternoon of the same day, they were taken to the place of execution ; and, kneeling down, they prayed with great fervency for some time. Then Stratton, addressing himself to the specta- tors, exhorted them to lay aside their superstitious and idolatrous notions, and employ themselves in seeking the true light of the gos- pel. He wished to have said more, but was prevented by the officers. The sentence was then put into execution, and the martyrs cheer- fully yielded up their bodies to the flames, commending their souls to the mercy of their heavenly Fa- ther, and hoping for immortality, through the merits of their blessed Redeemer. Several others were accused, of whom some fled to England, and others to Germany. The changes made in England, raised in all the people a wish to search into matters of religion, which was always fatal to super- stition; and pope Clement the Seventh, well aware that the papal religion would not bear investiga- tion, wrote earnestlj' to the king of Scotland, to continue firm to the Catholic faith, resisting all at- tempts at innovation. Upon this, the king called a parliament, in which new laws were made for maintaining the pope's authority, and proceeding against heretics. King Henry sent Barlow, bishop of St. David's, to James, with some books that were written in defence of his proceedings, and desired him to examine them im- partially. He also proposed an interview at York, and a marriage 330 BOOK OF MARTYRS. between kittg James and lady Mary, his eldest dauo:hter. James was not unwilling to listen to these proposals, but the clergy per- suaded him to go in person to France, and court Magdalene, daughter of the French king. He accordingly gratified their wishes, and married her in January, 1537 ; but she died in the following May. 'Upon her death, the king married Mary of Guise ; she was a branch of the family that was most zeal- ously addicted to the old supersti- tion of any in all Europe ; and her interest, joined with that of the clergy, engaged the king to be- come a violent persecutor of all who were of another mind. The king was very expensive, both in his pleasures and build- ings; so that he was always in want of money. The nobility pro- posed to him the seizing on the abbey -lands, as his uncle, king Henry, had done. The clergy, on the other hand, advised him to proceed severely against all sus- pected of heresy ; by which means, according to the lists tliey shewed him, he might raise 100,000 crowns a year: they also advised him to provide his illegitimate children with abbeys and priories; and re- presented to him, that if he conti- nued steadfast in the " old reli- gion," he would have a great party in ^England, and might be made the head of a league, which was then projected against king Henry. This so far prevailed with him, that he made four of his sons ab- bots and priors, and he gave way to the persecuting spirit of the clergy; upon which, many were cited to answer for heresy ; some of whom abjured, and some were banished. Among those who were in trou- ble was George Buchanan, who, at the king's instigation, had writ- ten a very satirical poem against the Franciscans, but was now abandoned by his royal friend. He made his escape, and after liv- ing twenty years in foreign coun- tries, returned to do his country honour ; and by his poems, and his history of Scotland, shewed how great a master he was of the Latin language, and how well skilled in the knowledge of human affairs. Not long after the burning of Stratton and Gourlay, dean Tho- mas Forret was accused to the bi- shop of Dunkeld, as " an heretic, and one that shewed the mysteries of the Scriptures to the vulgar peo- ple, in their own language, to make the clergy detestable in their sight." The bishop of E^unkeld said to him, " I love you well, and there- fore I must give you my counsel, how you shall rule and guide your- self. " My dear dean Thomas, I am informed that you preach the epis- tle or gospel every Sunday to your parishioners, and that you take not the cow, nor the uppermost cloth, from your parishioners, which is very prejudicial to the churchmen ; and, therefore, I would you took your cow, and your uppermost cloth, as other churchmen do, or else it is too much to preach every Sunday ; for, in so doing, you may make the people think that we should preach likewise. But it is enough for you, when you find any good epistle, or any good gospel, that setteth forth the liberty of the holy church, to preach that, and let the rest be." FoiTet answered, " My lord, I think that none of my parishioners will complain, that I take not the cow, nor the uppermost cloth, but will gladly give me the same, to- gether with any other thing that they have; and I will give and communicate with them any thing that I have ; and so, my lord, we agree right well, and there is no discord among us. And where your lordship saith, ' it is too much to preach every Sunday,' indeed I think it is too little; and also would wish that your lordship did the like." " Nay, nay, dean Thomas," cried the bishop, " let that be, for we are not ordained to preach." PERSECUTIONS IN SCX)TLAND. 331 Then said Forret, " Where your lordship biddeth me preach, when I find any good epistle, or a good gospel; truly, my lord, I have read the New Testament, and the Old, and all the epistles and gospels, and among them all I could never find an evil epistle, or an evil gospel ; b«t if your lord- ship will shew me the good epistle, and the good gospel, and the evil epistle, and the evil gospel, then I shall preach the good and omit the evil." The bishop replied, " / thank God that I never knew what the Old and New Testament was ; therefore, dean Thomas, I will know nothing but my portuise and pontifical. Go your way, and let be all these fantasies, for if you persevere in these eiToneous opinions, ye will repent when you may not mend it." Forret said, '* I trust my cause is just in the presence of God; and, therefore, I heed not much what may follow thereupon;" and so he departed. A short time afterwards, he was summoned to appear before car- dinal Beaton, archbishop of St. Andrew's ; and, after a short exa- mination, he was condemned to be burnt as a heretic. A similar sen- , tence was pronounced, at the same time, on four other persons, named Killor, Beverage, Simson, and Foster; and tliey were all burnt together on the castle-hill, at Edinburgh, February 28, 1538. MARTYRDOM OF RUSSEL AND KEN- NEDY. The year following the martyr- doms of the beforementioned per- sons, viz. 1539, two others were apprehended on a suspicion of heresy ; namely, Jerom Russel, and Alexander Kennedy, a youth about eighteen years of age. These two persons, after being some time confined in prison, were brought before the archbishop for examination. Kennedy's tender years inclining him to pusillani-. mity, he would at first have re- canted ; but being suddenly re- freshed by divine inspiration, and feeling himself, as it were, a new creature, his mind was changed, and failing on his knees, he, with a cheerful countenance, thus ex- pressed himself: *' O eternal God ! how wonder- ful is that love and mercy thou bearest uiilo mankind, and to me, a miserable wretch, above all others ! for even now, when I would have denied thee, and thy Son our Lord Jesus Christ, my only Saviour, and so have cast myself into everlasting damnation, thou, by thine own hand, hast pulled me from the very bottom of hell, and made me to feel that heavenly comfort which has taken from me that ungodly fear where- with I was before oppressed. Now I defy death." Then rising, he cried to his persecutors, " Do with me as you please ; I praise God I am ready." In the course of their examina- tion!, Russel, being a very sensible man, reasoned learnedly against his accusers. They, in return, made use of very opprobrious language ; to which Russel replied, " This is your hour and power of dark- ness : now ye sit as judges, and we stand wrongfully accused, and more wrongfully to be condemned ; but the day will come when our innocence will appear, and ye shall see your own blindness, to your everlasting confusion. Go on, and fill the measure of your ini- quity." The examination being over, and both of them declaied iiere- tics, the archbishop pronounced the dreadful sentence of death, and they were immediately deli- vered over to the secular power for execution. The next day they were led to the place appointed for them to sufl'er ; in their way to which Russel, observing that his fellow- sufferer had the appearance of timidity in his countenance, thus addressed him: " Brother, fear not; greater is he that is in us, than he that is in the world. The pain that we are to suffer is short, and shall bo light ; but our joy and consola- 332 BOOK OF MARTYRS. tion shall never have an end. Let us, therefore, strive to enter into our Master and Saviour's joy, by the same strait way which he hath taken before us. Death cannot hurt us, for it is already destroyed by him, for whose sake we are now goin{^ to suffer." When they arrived at the fatal spot they both kneeled down and prayed for some time; after which, being fastened to the stake, and the fagots lighted, they cheerfully resigned their souls into the hands of him who gave them, in full hopes of an everlasting reward in the heavenly mansions. MARTYRDOM OF SIX PERSONS. In 1543, the archbishop of St. Andrew's making a visitation into various parts of his diocese, several persons were accused at Perth of heresy. Among these the six following were condemned to die : William Anderson, Robert Lamb, James Finlayson, James Hunter, James Raveleson,and Helen Stark. The accusatio«nslaid against them were to the following effect : The four first were accused of having hung up the image of St. Francis, nailing ram's horns on his head, and fastening a cow's tail to his rump ; but the principal matter on which they were con- demned was, having regaled them- selves with a goose on Allhallows eve, a fast day, according to the Romish superstition. James Raveleson was accused of having ornamented his house with* the three-crowned diadem of Peter, carved in wood, which the archbishop conceived to be done in mockery to his cardinal's hat. Helen Stark was accused of not having accustomed herself to pray to the Virgin Mary, more especially during the time she was in child- bed. On these accusations they were all found guilty, and immediately received sentence of death ; the four men for eating the goose to be hanged ; James Raveleson to be burnt ; and the woman, with her sucking infant, to be put into a sack, and drowned. The four men, with the woman and child, suffered at the same time ; but James Raveleson was not executed till some days after. On the day appointed for the execution of the former, they were all conducted, under a proper guard, to the place where they were to suffer, and were attended by a prodigious number of spec- tators. As soon as they arrived at the place of execution, they all fer- vently prayed for some time ; after which Robert Lamb addressed himself to the spectators, exhorting them to fear God, and to quit the practice of papistical abomina- tions. The four men were all hanged on the same gibbet ; and the wo- man, with her sucking child, were conducted to a river adjoining, when being fastened in a large sack, they were thrown into it, and drowned. They all suffered their fate with becoming fortitude and resigna- tion, committing their departing spirits to that Redeemer who was to be their final judge, and who, they had reason to hope, would usher them into the realms of everlasting bliss. When we reflect on the suf- ferings of these unhappy persons, we are naturally induced, both as men and Christians, to lament their fate, and to express our feelings by dropping the tear of commiseration. The putting to death four men, for little other reason than that of satisfying nature with an article sent by Providence for that very purpose, merely because it was on a day prohibited by ridiculous bigotry and superstition, is shocking indeed ; but the fate of the inno- cent woman, and her still more harmless infant, makes human nature tremble at the contempla- tion of what mankind may become, when incited by bigotry to the gratification of the most diabolical cruelty. PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 333 Besides the abovementioned persons, many others were cruelly persecuted during the archbishop's stay at Perth, some being banish- ed, and others confined in loath- some dungeons. In particular, John Rogers, a pious and learned man, was, by the archbishop's or- ders, murdered in prison, and his body thrown over the walls into the street ; after which the arch- bishop caused a report to be spread, that he had met with his death in an attempt to make his escape. tlFE, SUFFERINGS, AND MARTYR- DOM OF GEORGE WISHART. Mr. George Wishart was born in Scotland, and after receiving a grammatical education at a private school, he left that place, and finish- ed his studies at the university of Cambridge. The following character of him, during his residence in that uni- versity, was written by one of his scholars, and contains so just a picture of this excellent man, that we give it at length. " About the year of our Lord 1543, there was in the university of Cambridge one Mr. George Wish- art, commonly called Mr. George of Bennet's college, who was a man of tall stature, bald-headed, and on the same wore a round French cap; judged to be of me- lancholy complexion by his physi- ognomy, black-haired, long-beard- ed, comely of personage, well spoken after his country of Scot- land, courteous, lowly, lovely, glad to teach, desirous to learn, and was well travelled : having on him for his habit or clothing, never but a mantle or frieze gown to the shoes, a black millian fustian doublet, and plain black hose, coarse new canvass for his shirts, and white falling bands and cuffs at his hands. All the which apparel he gave to the poor, some weekly, some monthly, some quarterly, as he liked, saving his French cap, which he kept the whole year of my being with him. *' He was a man modest, tempe- rate, fearing God, hating covetons- ness ; for his charity had never end, night, noon, nor day ; he for- bare one meal in three, one day in four, for the most part, except something to comfort nature. He lay hard upon a puff of straw, and coarse new canvass sheets, which when he changed he gave away. He had commonly by his bed-side a tub of water, in the which (his people being in bed, the candle put out and all quiet) he used to bathe himself, as I being very young, being assured, often heard him, and in one light night dis- cerned him. He loved me ten- derly, and I him, for my age, as effectually. He taught with great modesty and gravity, so that some of his people thought him severe, and would have slain him, but the Lord was his defence. And he, after due correction for their malice, by good exhortation a- mended them and went his way. O that the Lord had left him to me his poor boy, that he might have finished that he had begun ! for in his religion he was as you see here in the rest of his life, when he went into Scotland with divers of the nobility, that came for a treaty to king Henry the Eighth. His learning was no less sufficient, than his desire ; always pressed and ready to do good in that he was able, both in the house privately, and in the school pub- licly, professing and reading divers authors. " If I should declare his lore to me, and all men, his charity % the poor, in giving, relieving, caring, helping, providing, yea, infinitely studying how to do good unto all, and hurt to none, I should sooner want words than just cause to commend him. " All this I testify with my whole heart, and truth, of thi^ godly man. He that made all, governeth all, and shall judge all, knoweth that I speak the truth, that the simple may be satisfied, the arrogant confounded, the hy- pocrite disclosed. " Emery Tylney." 334 BOOK OP MARTYRS. In ordei' to improve himself as mucli as possible in the knowledge of literature, he travelled into va- rious foreign countries, where he distinguished himself for his great learning and abilities, both in phi- losophy and divinity. His desire to promote true knowledge and science among men, accompanied the profession of it himself. He was very ready to communicate what he knew to others, and fre- quently read various authors, both in his own chamber, and in the public schools. After being some time abroad, he returned to England, and took up his residence at Cambridge, where he was admitted a member of Bennet college. Having taken his degrees, he entered into holy orders, and expounded the gospel in so clear and intelligible a man- ner, as highly to delight his nu- merous auditors. Being desirous of propagating the true gospel in his own coun- try, he left Cambridge in 1544, and in his way to Scotland preached in most of the principal towns, to the great satisfaction of his hearers. On his arrival in his native land, he first preached at Montrose, and afterwards at Dundee. In this last place he made a public expo- sition of the epistle to the Romans, which he went through with so much grace, eloquence, and free- dom, as delighted the reformers, and alarmed the papists. In consequence of this exposi- tion, one Robert Miln, a principal man^f Dundee, went, by com- mand of cardinal Beaton, to the church, where Wishart preached, and in the midst of his discourse publicly told him " not to trouble the town any more, for he was de- termined not to suffer it." This treatment greatly surprised Wishart, who, after a short pause, looking sorrowfully on the speaker and the audience, said, " God is my witness, that I never intended your trouble, but your comfort ; yea, your trouble is more grievous to me, than it is to yourselves; but J am assured, to refuse God's word, and to clmse from you his messenger, shall not preserve you from trouble, but 'shall bring you into it; for God shall send you ministers ,that shall neither fear burning nor banishment. I have oflered you the word of salvation. With the hazard of my life I have remained among you: now ye yourselves refuse me; and I must leave my innocence to be declared by my God. If it be long prosper- ous with you, I am not led by the spirit of truth; but if unlooked-for trouble come upon you, acknow- ledge the cause, and turn to God, who is gracious and merciful. But if you turn not at the first warning, he will visit you with fire and sword." At the close of this speech he left the pulpit, and retired. After this he went into the west of Scotland, where he preached God's word, which was gladly re- ceived by many; till the archbi- shop of Glasgow, at the instigation of cardinal Beaton, came, with his train, to the town of Ayr, to sup- press Wishart, and insisted on having the church to preach in himself. Some opposed this ; but Wishart said, " Let him alone, his sermon will not do much hurt; let us go to the market-cross." This was agreed to, and Wishart preached a sermon that gave uni- versal satisfaction to his hearers, and at the same time confounded his enemies. He continued to propagate the gospel with the greatest alacrity, preaching sometimes in one place, and sometimes in another ; but coming to Macklene, he was, by force, kept out of the church. Some of his followers would have broken in; upon which he said to one of them, " Brother, Jesus Christ is as mighty in the fields as in the church ; and himself often preached in the desert, at the sea- side, and other places. The like word of peace God sends by me : the blood of none shall be shed this day for preaching it." He then went into the fields, where he preaclied to the people PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 335 for above three hours ; and such an impression did his sermon make on the minds of his hearers, that many of the most vicked men in the country became converts to the truth of the gospel. A short time after this, Mr. Wishart received intelligence, that the plague was broke out in Dun- dee. It began four days after he was prohibited from preaching there, and raged so extremely, that incredible numbers died in the space of twenty-four hours. This being related to him, he, not- withstanding the persuasions of his friends, determined to go thi- ther, saying, " They are now in troubles, and need comfort. Per- haps this hand of God, will make them now to magnify and reve- rence the word of God which be- fore they lightly esteemed." Here he was with joy received by the godly. He chose the East- gate for the place of his preach- ing; so that the healthy were witiiin, and the sick without the gate. He took his text from these words, " He sent his word and healed them," &c. In this sermon he chiefly dwelt upon the advan- tage and comfort of God's word, the judgments that ensue upon the contempt or rejection of it, the freedom of God's grace to all his people, and the happiness of those of his elect, whom he takes to himself out of this miserable world. The hearts of his hearers were so raised by the divine force of this discourse, as not to regard death, but to judge them the more happy who should then be called, not knowing whether they might have such a comforter again with them. After this the plague abated ; though, in the midst of it, Wishart constantly visited those that lay in the greatest extremity, and com- forted them by his exhortations. When he took his leave of the people of Dundee, he said, " That God had almost put an end to that plague, and that he was now called to another place." He went from thence to 'Mont- rose, where be sometimes preach- ed, but spent most of his time in private meditation and prayer. It is said, that before he left Dundee, and while he was engaged in the labours of love to the bo- dies, as well as to the souls, of those poor afficted people, cardi- nal Beaton engaged a desperate popish priest, called John Weigh- ton, to kill him ; the attempt to execute which was as follows: one day, after Wishart had finished his sermon, and the people de- parted, the priest stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs, with a naiced dagger in his hand under his gown. But Mr. Wishart, hav- ing a sharp, piercing eye, and see- ing the priest as he came from the pulpit, said to him, " My friend, what would you have?" And^ im- mediately clapping his hand upon the dagger, took it from him. The priest, being terrified, fell on his knees, confessed his intention, and craved pardon. A noise being hereupon raised, and it coming to the ears of those who were sick, they cried, " Deliver the traitor to us, we will take him by force;" and they burst in at the gate. But Wishart, taking the priest in his arms, said, " Whatsoever hurts him, shall hurt me ; for he hath done me no mischief, but much good, by teaching me more heed- fulness for the time to come." By this conduct he appeased the peo- ple, and saved the life of the wicked priest. Soon after his return to Mont- rose, the cardinal again conspired his death, causing a letter to be sent to him as if it had been from his familiar friend, the laird of Kinnier, in which he was desired, with all possible speed, to come to him, because he was taken with a sudden sickness. In the mean time the cardinal had provided sixty armed men, to lie in wait within a mile and a half of Mont- rose, in order to murder him as he passed that way. The letter coming to Wishart's hand by a boy, who also brought him a horse for the journey, Wish- art, accomp-anied by some of his 336 BOOK OF MARTYRS. friends, set forward ; but some- thing particular striking his mind by the way, he returned back, which they wondering at, asked hira the cause ; to whom he said, " I will not go ; I am forbidden of God ; I am assured there is trea- son. Let some of you go to yon- der place, and tell me what you find." They accordingly went, discovered the assassins, and has- tily returning, they told Mr. Wish- art : whereupon he said, " I know I shall end my life by that blood- thirsty man's hands, but it will not be in this manner." A short time after this he left Montrose, and proceeded to Edin- burgh, in order to propagate the gospel in that city. By the way he lodged with a faithful brother, called James Watson, of Inner- Goury. In the middle of the night he got up, and went into the yard, which two men hearing, they pri- vately followed him. While in the yard he fell on his knees, and prayed for some time with the greatest fervency ; after which he arose, and returned to his bed. Those who attended him, appearing as though they were ignorant of all, came and asked him where he had been? But he would not answer them. The next day they importuned him to tell them, saying, " Be plain with us, for we heard your mourning, and saw your gestures." On this he, with a dejected coun- tenance, said, " I had rather you had been in your beds." But they still pressing upon him to know something, he said, '* I will tell you ; I am assured that my war- fare is near at an end, and there- fore pray to God with me, that I shrink not when the battle waxeth most hot." When they heard this they wept, saying, " This is small comfort to vs." — " Then," said he, " God shall send you comfort after me. This realm shall be illuminated with the light of Christ's gospel, as clearly as any realm since the days of the apostles. The house of God shall be built in it ; yea, it shall not lack, in despite of all enemies, the top-stone ; neither will it be long before this be ac- complished. Many shall not suf- fer after me, before the glory of God shall appear, and triumph in despite of Satan. But, alas, if the people afterwards shall prove unthankful, then fearful and ter- rible will be the plagues that shall follow." The next day he proceeded on his journey, and when he arrived at Leith, not meeting with those he expected, he kept himself re- tired for a day or two. He then grew pensive, and being asked the reason, he answered, " What do I differ from a dead man? Hitherto God hath used my labours for the instruction of others, and to the disclosing of darkness; and now I lurk as a man ashamed to shew his face." His friends perceived that his desire was to preach, whereupon they said to him, " It is most comfortable for us to hear you, but because we know the danger wherein you stand, we dare not desire it." He replied, " If you dare hear, let God provide for me as best pleaseth him ;" after which it was concluded, that the next day he should preach in Leith. His text was from the parable of the sower. Matt. xiii. The ser- mon ended, the gentlemen of Lo- thian, who were earnest professors of Jesus Christ, would not suffer him to stay at Leith, because the governor and cardinal were shortly to come to Edinburgh ; but took him along with them ; and be preached at Branstone, Long- niddry, and Ormistone. He also preached at Iveresk, near Musel- burg : he had a great concourse of people, and amongst them Sir George Douglas, who after sermon said publicly, " I know that the governor and cardinal will hear that I have been at this sermon ; but let them know that I will avow it, and will maintain both the doc- trine, and the preacher, to the ut- termost of my power." Among others that came to hear him preach, there were two gray- PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 337 friars, who, standing at the church door, whispered to such as carae in ; which Wishart observing, said to the people, " I pray you make room for these two men, it may be they come to learn ;" and turning to them, he said, " Come near, for I assure you you shall hear the word of truth, which this day shall seal up to you either your salva- tion or damnation :" after which Le proceeded in his sermon, sup- posing that they would be quiet ; but when he perceived that they still continued to disturb the people that stood near them, be said to them the second time, with an angry countenance, ♦' O ministers of Satan, and deceivers of the souls of men, will ye neither hear God's truth yourselves, nor suffer others to hear it ? Depart, and take this for your portion ; God shall shortly confound and disclose your hypo- crisy within this kingdom; ye shall be abominable to men, and your places and habitations shall be de- solate." He spoke this with much veJieraenoy ; then turning to the people, said, " Those men have provoked the spirit of God to anger ;" after which he proceeded in his Hermon, highly to the satis- faction of his hearers. Horrible Cruelties inflicted by order of the Inquisition. From hence he went and preach- ed at Branstone, Languedine, Or- mistone, and Inveresk, where he was followed by a great concourse of people. He preached also in many other places, the people flocking after him ; and in all his sermons he foretold the shortness of the time he had to travel, and FOX'S MARTYRS. the near approach of his death. When he came to Haddington, his auditory began much to de- crease, which was thought to hap- pen through the influence of the earl of Bothwell, who was moved to oppose him at the instigation of the cardinal. Soon after this, as he was going to church, he re- 22 338 BOOK OF MARTYRS. celred a letter froni the west coun- try gentlemen, which having read, he called John Knox, who had dili- gently waited upon him since his arrival at Lothian ; to whom he said, " He was weary of the world, because he saw that men began to be weary of God : for," said he, " the gentlemen of the west have sent me word, that they cannot keep their meeting at Edinburgh." Knox, wondering he should enter into conference about these things, immediately before his sermon, contrary to his usual custom, said to him, " Sir, sermon-time ap- proaches ; I will leave you for the present to your meditations." Wishart's sad countenance de- clared the grief of his mind. At length he went into the pulpit, and his auditory being very small, he introduced his sermon with the following exclamation : " O Lord ! how long shall it be, that thy holy word shall be despised, and men shall not regard their own salva- tion? I have heard of thee, O Haddington, that in, thee there used to be two or three thousand persons at a vain and wicked play ; and now, to hear the messenger of the eternal God, of all the parish can scarce be numbered one hun- dred present Sore and fearful shall be the plagues that shall ensue upon this thy contempt. With fire and sword shalt thou be plagued ; yea, thou Haddington in special, strangers shall possess thee ; and ye, the present inha- bitants, shall either in bondage serve your enemies, or else ye shall be chased from your 6wn habitations; and that because ye have not known, nor will know, the time of your visitation." This prediction was, in a great measure, accomplished not long after, when the English took Had- dington, made it a garrison, and forced many of the inhabitants to ilce. Soon after this, a dreadful plague broke out in the town, of which such numbers died, that the place became almost depopu- lated. Cardinal Beaton, b eing informed that Wishart was at the house of Mr. Cockburn, of Ormiston, in East-Lothian, applied to the re- gent to cause him to be appre- hended; with which, after great persuasion, and much against his will, he complied. The earl accordingly went, with proper attendants, to the house of Mr. Cockburn, which he beset about midnight. The master of the house being greatly alarmed, put himself in a posture of defence, when the earl told him that it was in vain to resist, for the governor and cardinal were within a mile, with a great power ; but if he would deliver Wishart to him, he would promise upon his honour, that he should be safe, and that the cardinal should not hurt him. Wisbart said, " Open the gates, the will of God be done ;" and Bothwell coming in, Wishart said to him, " I praise my God, that so honourable a man as you, my lord, receive me this night ; for I am persuaded that for your honour's sake you will suifer nothing to be done to me but by order of law : I less fear to die openly, than se- cretly to be murdered." Bothwell replied, " I will not only preserve your body from all violence that shall be intended against you with- out order of law ; bait I also pro- mise, in the presence of these gen- tlemen, that neither the governor nor cardinal shall have their will of you ; but I will keep you in my own house, till I eitlier set you free, or restore you to the same place where I receive you." Then said Mr. Cockburp, "My lord, if you make good your promise; which we presume you will, we ourselves will not only serve you, but we will procure all the pro- fessors in Lothian to do the same." This agreement being made, Mr. Wishart was delivered into the hands of the earl, who imme- diately conducted him to Edin- burgh. As soon as the earl arrived at that place, he was sent for by the queen^ who being an inveterate enemy to Wishart, prevailed on PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. S39 the earl (notwithstanding the pro- mises he had made) to commit him a prisoner to the castle. The cardinal being informed of Wishart's situation, went to Edin- bur-gh, and immediately caused him to be removed from thence to the castle of St. Andrew's. The inveterate and persecuting prelate, having now got our mar- tyr fully at his own disposal, re- solved to proceed immediately to try him as a heretic : for which purpose he assembled the pre- lates at St. Andrew's church on the 27th of February, 1546. At this meeting the archbisliop of Glasgow gave it as his opinion, that application should be made to the regent, io grant a commission to some nobleman to try the pri- soner, that all tlie odium of put- ting so popular a man to death might not lie on the clergy. To this the cardinal readily agreed; but upon sending to the regent, he received the following answer : " That he would do well not to precipitate this man's trial, but delay it until his coming ; for as to himself, he would not consent to his death before the cause was very well examined ; and if the cardinal should do otherwise, he would make protestation, that the blood of this man should be re- quired at his hands." The cardinal was extremely chagrined at this message from the regent ; however, he determined to proceed in the bloody business he had undertaken ; and there- fore sent the regent word, "That he had not written to him about this matter, as supposing himself to be any way dependant upon his authority, but from a desire that the prosecution and conviction of heretics might have a shew of public consent ; which, since he could not this way obtain, he would proceed in that way whicli to him appeared the most pro- per." In consequence of this, the car- dinal immediately proceeded to the trial of Wishart, against \\'hom no less than eighteen articles w^ere exhibited, which were, in sub- stance, as follows : That he had despised the " holy mother-church ;" had deceived the people ; had ridiculed the mass ; had preached against the sacra- ments, saying that there were not seven, but two only, viz. baptism and the supper of the Lord ; had preached against confession to a priest; had denied transubstantia- tion and the necessity of extreme unction ; would not admit the au- tliority of the pope or the councils; allowed the eating of flesh on Friday ; condemned prayers to saints ; spoke against the vows of monks, &c. saying that " who- ever was bound to such vows, had vowed themselves to the state of damnation, and that it was lawful for priests to marry ;" that he had said, " it was in vain to build costly churches tO the honour of God, seeing that he remained not in churches made with men's hands ; nor yet could God be in so small a space as between the priest's hands ;" — and, finally, that he had avowed his disbelief of pur- gatory, and had said, " the soul of man should sleep till the last day, and should not obtain immor- tal life till that time." Mr. Wishart answered these respective articles with great com- posure of mind, and in so learned and clear a manner, as greatly sur- prised most of those who were present. A bigoted priest, named Lau- der, at the instigation of the archbishop, not only heaped a load of curses on him, but treated him with the most barbarous con- tempt, calling him " runagate, false heretic, traitor, and thief;" and, not satisfied with that, spit in his face, and otherwise mal- treated him. On this Mr. Wishart fell on his knees, and after making a prayer to God, thus addressed his judges : " Many and horrible sayings unto me a Christian man, many words abominable to hear, have ye spoken here this day ; which 340 BOOK OF MARTYRS. not only to teach, but even to think, I ever thought a great abo- mination." After the examination was finish- ed, the archbishop endeavoured to prevail on Mr. Wishart to recant ; but he was too firmly fixed in his religious principles, and too much enlightened with the truth of the gospel, to be in the least moved. In consequence of this the arch- bishop pronounced on him the dreadful sentence of death, which lie ordered should be put into ex- ecution on the following day. As soon as this cruel and me- lancholy ceremony was finished, our martyr fell on his knees and thus exclaimed : " O immortal God, how long trilt thou suffer the rage, and great cruelty of the ungodly, to exercise their fury upon thy ser- vants, which do further thy word in this world 1 Whereas tlaey, on the contrary, seek to destroy the truth, whereby thou hast revealed thyself to the world. O Lord, we know certainly that thy true ser- vants must needs suffer, for thy name's sake, persecutions, afllic- tions, and troubles, in this pre- sent world ; yet we desire, that thou wouldest preserve and defend thy church, which thou hast chosen tefore the foundation of the world, and give thy people grace to hear Ihy word, and to be thy true ser- vants in this present life." Having said this, he arose, and was immediately conducted by the officers to the prison from whence he had been brought, in the castle. In the evening he was visited by two friars, who told him he must make his confession to them ; to whom he replied, " I will not make any confession to you ;" on ■which they immediately departed. Soon after this came the sub- prior, with whom Wishart con- versed in so feeling a manner on religious matters, as to make him weep. When this man left Wish- art, he went to the cardinal, and told him, he came not to intercede for the prisoner's life, but to make known his innocence to all men. At these words, the cardinal eX" pressed great dissatisfaction, and forbid the sub-prior from again visiting Wishart. Towards the close of the even- ing, our martyr was visited by the captain of the castle, with several of his friends ; who bringing with them some bread and wine, asked him if he would eat and drink with them. "Yes," said Wishart, "very willingly, for I know you are honest men." In the mean time he de- sired them to hear him a little, when he discoursed with them on the Lord's Supper, his »uflerings and death for us, exhorting them to love one another, and to lay aside all rancour and malice, as became the members of Jesus Christ, who continually interceded for them with his father. After this he gave thanks to God, and blessing the bread and wine, he took the bread and brake it, giv- ing some to each, saying, at the same time, "Eat this, remember that Christ died for us, and feed on it spiritually. Then taking the cup, he drank, and bade them " remember that Christ's blood was shed for them." After this he gave thanks, prayed for some time, took leave of his visitors, and retired to his chamber. On the morning of his execu- tion there came to him two friars from the cardinal ; one of whom put on him a black linen coat, and the other brought several bags of gunpowder, which they tied about different parts of his body. In this dress he was conducted from the room in which he had been confined, to the outer cham- ber of the governor's apartments, there to stay till the necessary preparations were made for his execution. The windows and balconies of the castle, opposite the place where he was to suffer, were all hung with tapestry and silk hang- ings, with cushions for the cardinal and his train, who were from thence to feast their eyes with the torments of this innocent man. There was also a large guard of PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 341 soldiers, not so much to secure the execution, as to shew a vain os- tentation of power; besides which, cannon were placed on diflerent parts of the castle. All the preparations being com- pleted, Wishart, after having his hands tied behind him, was con- ducted to the fatal spot. In his way thither he was accosted by two friars, who desired him to pray to the Virgin Mary to intercede for him. To whom he meekly said, " Cease; tempt me not, I en- treat you." As soon as he arrived at the stake, the executioner put a rope round his neck, and a cliain about his middle; upon which he fell on his knees, and thus exclaimed: *' O thou Saviour of the world, have mercy upon me! Father of heaven, I commend my spirit into thy holy hands." After repeating these words three times he arose, and turning himself to the spectators, addressed them as follows: " Christian brethren and sisters, I beseech you, be not offended at the word of God for the torments which you see prepared for me ; but I exhort you, that ye love the word of God for your salvation, and suffer patiently, and with a comfortable heart, for the word's sake, which is your undoubted sal- vation, and everlasting comfort. I pray you also, shew my brethren and sisters, who have often heard me, that they cease not to learn the word of God, which I taught them according to the measure of grace given me, but to hold fast to it with the strictest attention ; and shew them, that the doctrine was no old wives' fables, but the truth of God ; for if I had taught men's doctrine, I should have had greater thanks from men: but for the word of God's sake I now suffer, not sorrowfully, but with a glad heart and mind. For this cause I was sent, that I should sufler this fire for Christ's sake ; behold my face, you shall not see me change my countenance ; I fear not the fire ; and if persecution come to you for the word's sake, I pray you fear not them that can kill the body, and have no power to hurt the soul." After this he prayed for his ac- cusers, saying, '* I beseech thee, Father of heaven, forgive them that have, from ignorance, or an evil mind, forged lies of me : I for- give them with all my heart. I beseech Christ to forgive them, that have ignorantly condemned me." Then, again turning himself to the spectators, he said, " I beseech you, brethren, exhort your pre- lates to learn the word of God, that they may be ashamed to do evil, and learn to do good; or there will come upon them the wrath of God, which they shall not eschew." As soon as he had finished this speech, the executioner fell on his knees before him, and said, " Sir, I pray you forgive me, for I am not the cause of your death." In return to this, Wishart cor- dially took the man by the hand, and kissed him, saying, " Lo, here is a token that I forgive thee ; my heart, do thine office." He was then fastened to the stake, and the fagots being lighted, immediately set fire to the powder that was tied about him, and which blew into a flame and smoke. The governor of the castle, who stood so near that he was singed with the flame, exhorted our mar- tyr, in a few words, to be of good cheer, and to ask pardon of God for his offences. To which he re- plied, " This flame occasions trou- ble to my body, indeed, but it hath in no wise broken my spirit. But he who now so proudly looks down upon me from yonder lofty place," pointing to the cardinal, " shall, ere long, be as ignominiously thrown down, as now he proudly lolls at his ease." When he had said this, the exe- cutioner pulled the rope which was tied about his neck with great violence, so that he was soon strangled; and the fire getting ^sn BOOK OF MARTYRS. strength, burnt with such rapidity that in less than an hour his body was totally cousuined. Thus died, in confirmation of the gospel of Christ, a sincere belieyer, ■whose fortitude and constancy, 'during his sufferings, can only be imputed to the support of divine aid, in order to fulfil that memora- ble promise, "As is thy day, so shall thy strength be also." CARDINAL BEATON PCT TO DEATH. The prediction of Mr. Wishart, concerning cardinal Beaton, is re- lated by Buchanan, and others ; but it has been doubted, by some later writers, whether he really made such prediction or not. Be that as it may, however, it is cer- tain that the death of Wishart did, in a short time after, prove fatal to the cardinal himself; the parti- culars of which we subjoin. Soon after the death of Mr. Wishart, the cardinal went to Fin- haven, the seat of the earl of Crawford, to solemnize a maniage between the eldest son of that no- bleman, and his own natural daughter, Margaret, Whilst he was thus employed, he received intelligence that an English squad- ron was upon the coast, and that consequently an invasion was to be feared. Upon this he imme- diately returned to St. Andrew's, and appointed a day for the nobi- lity and gentry to meet, and con- sult what was proper to be done on this occasion. But as no far- ther news was heard of the Eng- lish fleet, their apprehensions of an invasion soon subsided. In the mean time Norman Les- ley, eldest son of the earl of Rothes, who had been treated by the cardinal with injustice .and contempt, formed a design, in conjunction with his uncle John Lesley, who hated Beaton, and others who were inflamed against him on account of his persecution of the protestants, the death of Wishart, and other causes, to as- sassinate the prelate, though he now resided in the castle of St. Andrew's, which he was fortifj'- ing at great experwe, and tad, in the opinion of that age, already rendered it almost impregnable. The cardinal's retinue was nu- merous, the town was at his de- votion, and the neighbouring coun- try full of his dependents. How- ever, the conspirators, who were in number ordy sixteen, having concerted their plan, met together early in the morning, on Saturday the 29th of May. The first thing they did, was to seize the porter of the castle, from whom they took the keys, and secured the gate. They then sent four of their party to watch the cardinal's chamber, that he might have no notice given him of what was doing; after which they went and called up the servants and attendants, to whom they were well known, and turned them out of the gate, to the num- ber of fifty, as they did also up- wards of an hundred workmen, who were employed in the fortifi- cations and buildings of the castle ; but the eldest son of the regent, (whom the cardinal kept with him, under pretence of, superintending his education, but in reality as an hostage,) they kept for their own security. All this was done with so little noise, that the cardinal was not waked till they knocked at his chamber door; upon which he cried out, " Who is there?" John Lesley answered, " My name is Lesley." " Which Lesley !" in- quired the cardinal ; " is it Nor- man?" It was answered, that he must open the door to those who were there ; but instead of this, he barrieadoed it in the best manner he could. However, finding that they had brought fire in order to force their way, and they having, as it is said by some, made him a promise of his life, he opened the door. They immediately entered with their swords drawn, and John Lesley smote him twice or thrice, as did also Peter Carmichael ; but James Melvil, (as Mr. Knox re- lates the affair) perceiving them to be in choler, said, " This work, and judgment of God, although it PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 343 be seftret, ouf;:lit to he done with J!:reater ^raxity." and presenting the point of his sword to the car- dinal, said to him, " Repent thee 4)f thy wicked life, but especially of the shcddinpj of the blood of that notable instrument of God, Mr. Georg-e Wishart, which albeit the flame of fire consumed before men, yet cries it for vengeance upon thee ; and we from God are sent to revenge it. For here, before my God, I protest, that neither the hatred of thy person, the love of thy riches, nor the fear of any trou- ble thou couldst have done to me in particular, moved or moveth me to strike thee; but only because thou hast been, and remarnest, an obstinate enemy of Christ Jesus, and his holy gospel." Having said this, he with his sword run the cardinal twice or thrice through the body; who only said, "I am a priest! Fie! fie! all is gone!" and then expired, being about fifty-two years of age. Thus fell cardinal Beaton, who had been as great a persecutor against the protestauts in Scot- land, as Bonner was in England; and whose death was as little re- gretted by all true professors of Christ's gospel. The character of this distin- guished tyrant is thus given by a celebrated writer: " Cardinal Beaton had not used his power with moderation equal to the prudence by which he ob- tained it. Notwithstanding his great abilities, he had too many of the passions and prejudices of an angrj leader of a faction, to go- vern a divided people with temper. His resentment against one part of the nobility, his insolence towards the rest, his severity to the re- formers, and, above all, the bar- barous and illegal execution of the famous George Wishart, a man of honourable birth, and of primi- tive sanctity, wore out the pa- tience of a fierce age ; and nothing but a bold hand was wanting, to gratify the public wish by Ijis de- struction." The death of cardinal Beaton, for a short time, gave new spirits to the reformed in all parts of Scotland; but their pleasing ex- pectations were damped, when they discovered the disposition of his successor, John Hamilton, who was no less a rigid papist, and vio- lent persecutor of the protestauts, than his predecessor. No sooner did he assume tbe ar- chiepiscopal dignity, than he dedi- cated the principal part of his time to the oppression of those who fa- voured the reformed doctrine; many of whom he caused to be im- prisoned till (hey recanted; and others, who would not, were ba- nished the kingdom. MARTYRDOM OF ADAM WALLACE. The first person who fell a mar- tyr to the rancorous passions of this bigoted tyrant, was one Adam Wallace, of Winton, in East-Lo- thian, who having obtained a true knowledge of the gospel of Christ, spent the greater part of his time in endeavouring to propagate it among his fellow-creatures. His conduct being noticed by some bigoted papists, an informa- tion was laid against him for he- resy, on which he was apprehend- ed, and committed to prison. A few days after he was brought before the archbishop of St. An- drew's, and several other prelates, assembled at the church of the Black-friars in Edinburgh, in order to be examined relative to his reli- gious opinions, when three sepa- rate articles were exhibited against him : 1st. "That he had said and taught, that the bread and wine on the altar, after the words of conse- cration, were not the real body and blood of Christ." To this he replied, "I never said, or taught, any thing but what I found in this book," (pofnting to a bible that hung by his side) " which contains the word of God. From this I am informed, (as you may likewise be) that after our Lord had eaten the paschal lamb, at his last supper with his apostles, and fulfilled the ceremonies of the old laAv, he instituted a new sacra- 344 BOOK OF MARTYRS. ment, in remembrance of his death, then to come. He took bread, and blessed it, and brake it, and gave it to his disciples, and said, ' Take, eat; this is my body.' And he took the cup and gave thanks, and gave it to them, say- ivrg, ' Drink ye all of it: for this is my blood of the New Testament, ■which shall be shed for the remis- sion of many. As oft as ye do this, do it in remembrance of me.'" The earl of Huntley, addressing bimself to Wallace, said, " Thoa answerest not to that which is laid against thee; say, either yes or no." To this our martyr replied, " If ye will admit God, and his word, spoken by his blessed Son, ye will admit what I have said ; for I have said and taught nothing bnt what the word, which is the trial and touchstone, saith, and which ought to be judge to me, and all the world." "Why," said the earl, "hast thou not a good judge here? And thinkest thou that we know not God and his word? Answer to the accusation laid against thee." " I never taught," replied Wal- lace, " more than the writ saith ; nor yet more than I have before said. I know well what St. Paul meaneth, when he saith, ' Whoso- ever eateth this bread, and drink- eth of this cup unworthily, receiv- eth to himself damnation.' There- fore, when I taught (which was but seldom, and to those only who required it of nie) I said, that if the sacrament of the altar were truly ministered and used, as the Son of the living God instituted it; where that was done, there was God himself, by his Divine Power." The bishop of Orkney then asked Wallace, " If he believed that the bread and wine in the sacrament of the altar, after the words of consecration, was the very body of God, flesh and blood!" To this he replied, " I believe that the Son of God was conceived of the Holy Ghost, and born of the Virgin Mary ; that he had a natu- ral body, with hands, feet, and other members, and that he walked about in the world preaching to the people : that he suffered death under Pontins Pilate, was cruci- fied, dead and buried ; and that, by his godly power, he raised that same body again the third day : that he afterwards ascended into heaven, where he sitteth at the right hand of the Father, who shall come again to judge both the quick and the dead." He then quoted several texts of scripture, tending to prove the ab- surdity of the popish doctrine ; which not being agreeable to his judges, they desisted from ask- ing any farther questions relative to the first article ; and therefore proceeded to state the second, which was, " That he had said, and openly taught, that the mass was very idolatry, and an abomi- nation in the sight of God." To this he replied, that he had read the Bible in three difl'erent tongues, and never met with the word mass in either ; therefore he thought it idolatry, and an abo- mination in the sight of God. The third accusation was, " That he had said, and openly taught, that the God which was worship- ped by the members of the holy mother-church, was but bread made from corn growing on the earth, and that it was brought to the form in which it was used by the hands of men." Wallace, in answer to this, said, " I worship the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, three persons in one Godhead, which made and fashioned the heaven and earth, and all that is therein. I know of no other God, and him only will I worship so long as I live." The archbishop, after telling Wallace he had been gnilty of many other errors, which he should pass over, asked him whether he granted or denied the articles pro- pounded. To which be answered in the aflBrmative. He then pronounced sentence of death on him as a heretic ; and he was immediately delivered over PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 345 to the secular power, in order for execution. In the evening of the same day. Wallace was visited by several Romish priests, who endeavoured to prevail on him to recant ; but he stood so steadfastly in the faith he professed, and used such forcible arguments in vindication of the true gospel, that they left him with some wrath, saying, " he was too abandoned to receive any impres- sion." The next morning he was con- ducted to the Castle-Hill at Edin- burgh, when, being chained to the stake, and the fagots lighted, he cheerfully resigned up his soul into the hands of him who gave it, in full assurance of receiving a crown of glory in the heavenly mansions. It was supposed that the per- secutors of Wallace were more violent against him than they would otherwise have been, on ac- count of his wife, who, being em- ployed as tutoress to the children of lady Ormiston, instructed them in the principles of the reformed religion. MARTYRDOM OF WALTER MILLE. The next, and last person who suffered martyrdom in Scotland, for the cause of Christ, was one Walter Mille, who was burnt at Edinburgh in the year 1558. This person, in his younger years, had travelled into Germany', and on his return was installed a priest of the church of Lunan in Angus ; but, on an information of heresy against him, in the time of cardinal Beaton, he was forced to abandon his charge, and abscond. After the death of that prelate he returned, not knowing the per- secuting spirit of his successor. Being well known by several bi- goted papists in the neighbourhood, they accused him of heresy ; in consequence of which he waa apprehended, and committed to prison. A few days after, he was brought before the archbishop and his suf- Iragans, in order to be examined relative to his religious opinions ; when sir Andrew Oliphant, by order of the archbishop, interro- gated him as follows : Oliphant. — What think you of priest's marriage ? Mille. — I hold it a blessed band : for Christ himself maintained it, and approved the same, and also made it free to all men ; but yoa think it not free to you, ye abhor it, and in the mean time take other men's wives and daughters, and will not keep the band God hath made. Ye vow chastity, and break the same. St. Paul had rather marry than burn ; the which I have done, for God never forbade mar- riage to any man, what state or de- gree soever he were. Oliphant. — Thou sayest there be not seven sacraments. Mille. — Give me the Lord's Sup- per and Baptism, and take you the rest, and part them among you. For if there be seven, why have you omitted one of them, to wit, marriage, and given yourself to whoredom? Oliphant. — Thou art against the blessed sacrament of the altar, and sayest that the mass is wrong, and is idolatry. Mille. — A lord or a king sendeth and calleth many to a dinner, and when the dinner is in readiness, he causeth to ring a bell, and the men come to the hall, and sit down to be partakers of the dinner, but the lord, turning his back unto them, eateth all himself, and mock- eth them; so do ye. Oliphant. — Thou deniest the sa- crament of the altar to be the very body of Christ really in flesh and blood. Mille. — The scripture of God is not to be taken carnally, but spi- ritually, and standeth in faith only; and as for the mass it is wrong, for Christ was once offered on the cross for man's trespass, and will neverbe offered again, for then he ended all sacrifices. Oliphant. — Thou deniest the oflBce of a bishop. Mille. — I affirm that they, whom ye call bishops, do no bishops' 346 BOOK OF MARTYRS. works ; nor ukc tl>e odicc of bi- shops, as Paul biddeth, writinjj; to Timothy, but live after their own sensual pleasure, and lake no care of the flock ; nor yet regard they the word of God, but desire to be honoured and called my lords. Oliphant. — Tliou spakest against pilgrimage, and calledst it a pil- grimage to whoredom. MiUc. — I affirm and say, that it is not commanded in the scripture, and that there is no greater whore- dom in any place, than at your pil- grimages, except it be in common brothels. Oliphant. — Thou preachedst se- cretly and privately in liouses, and openly in the lields. Mille. — Yea, man, and on the sea also, sailing in a sjiip. Oliphant. — Wilt thou not recant thy erroneous opinions? and if thou wilt not, I will pronounce sen- tence against thee. Mille. — I am accused of my life ; I know I must die once, and there- fore, as Christ said to Judas, quod facisfac citing. Ye shall know that I will not recant the truth, for I am corn, I am no chaflF; I will not be blown away with the wind, nor burst with the flail ; but I will abide both. In consequence of this, sentence of condemnation was immediately passed on him, and he was con- ducted to prison in order for ex- ecution the following day. This steadfast believer in Christ "was eighty-two years of age, and very inlirm; from whence it was supposed, that he could scarcely be heard. However, when he was led to the place of execution, he expressed his religious sentiments with such courage, and at the same time composure of mind, as astonished even his enemies. As soon as he was fastened to the stake, and the fagots lighted, be addressed the spectators as follows : ** The cause why I suffer this day is not for any crime, (though I acknowledge myself a miserable sinner,) but only for the defence of the truth as it is in Jesus Christ; and I praise God who hath called me, by his mercy, to seal the truth with my life; which, as I received it from him, so I willingly ofler it up to his glory. Therefore, as you would escape eternal death, be no longer seduced by the lies of the seat of antichrist: but de- pend solely on Jesus Christ, and his mercy, that you may be de- livered from condemnation." He then added, " That he trusted he should be the last who would suf- fer death in Scotland, upon a re- ligious account." Thus did this pious Christian cheerfully give up his life, in de- fence of the truth of Christ's gospel, not doubting but he should be made a partaker of his heavenly kingdom. The people were so grieved at the death of this good man, that, as a monument of it to future ages, they raised a pile of stones on the spot where he suffered. This, however, was removed by order of the popish clergy, but replaced again by the people se- veral times, till at length a guard was appointed to apprehend all persons who should carry stones to that place. It is remarkable that from the universal esteem in which this man was held by the people, a cord could not be found to tie him with after Ills condemnation ; and on that very account his execution was postponed till the next morn- ing, when they were reduced to the necessity of using the cords belonging to the archbishop's pa- vilion. The death of Walter Mille proved the overthrow of popery in Scot- land. The clergy were so sen- sible that their affairs were falling to decay, that they, from that time, never dared to proceed to a capi- tal punishment, on account of re- ligion: insomuch, that in the synod held in Edinburgh, in July this year, 1558, some persons who had been impeached of heresy were only condemned, upon their non- appearance, to make a public re- cantation at the market-cross of PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 347 that city, on the 1st of Sep- tember following, being St. Giles's Day, the tutelar saint of that place. It was nsHal, at the feast of this saint, which now nearly approach- ed, to carry his image in proces- sion through tiie town, and the queen-regent was to honour the solemnity with her presence. But when the time was come, the image was missing : it having been stolen from its station, by some w!io were too wise to pray to it. This caused a halt to be made, till another image was borrowed from the Grey-friars, with which they set forward ; and after the queen had accompanied them a considerable way, she withdrew into the castle, where she was to dine. But no sooner was she gone, than some persons, who had been purposely appointed, tore the picture from oif the shoulders of those who carried it, threw it into the dirt, and totally destroyed it. This gave such universal satis- faction to the people, that a gene- ral shout ensued, and a riot con- tinued in the street during some hours ; which was at length sup- pressed by the vigilance of Uie magistrates. About the same time a great disturbance happened at Perth, the circumstances attending which were as follow : a celebrated re- formist minister having preached to a numerous congregation, after sermon was over, some godly per- sons remained in the church, when a priest was so imprudent as to open a case, in which was curi- ously engraved the figures of many saints; after which he made preparations for saying mass. A young man observing this, said , aloud, " This is intolerable ! As God plainly condemns, in scripture, idolatry, shall we stand and see such an insult?" The priest was so offended at this, that he struck the youth a violent blow on the head, on which he broke one of the figures in the case, when im- mediately all the people fell on the priest and destroyed every thing in the church that tended to idolatry. This being soon known abroad, the people assembled in large bodies, and proceeded to the monasteries of the Grey and Black Friars, both of which they strip- ped; and then pulled down the house of the Carthusians ; so that in the space of two days nothing remained of those noble buildings but the bare walls. The like kind of outrages were committed in many other towns in the kingdom. At this time there were many persons who made it their business to solicit subscriptions in order to carry on the work of reformation, and to abolish popery. Among these were several of the nobility, particularly the earl of Argyle, the lord James Stewart, the earl of Glencairn, he. The endeavours of these noble reformists were attended with such success that they at length efiected a complete reformation in the kingdom ; though they met with many obstacles from their inve- terate enemies the papists. BOOK IX. PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION IN THE REIGN OF EDWARD VI. Edward was the only son of king Henry, by his beloved wife Jane Seymour, who died the day after his birth, which took place on the twelfth of October 15.37, so that, when he came to the throne in 1547, he was but ten years old. At six years of age he was put into the hands of Dr. Cox and Mr. Cheke ; the one was to form his mind, and teach him philosophy and divinity ; the other, to teach him languages and mathematics: other masters were also appointed for the various parts of his educa- tion. He discovered very early a 348 BOOK OF MARTYRS. good disposition to religion and virtue, and a particular reverence for the scriptures ; and was once greatly offended with a person, who, in order to reach something hastily, laid a great Bible on the floor, and stood upon it. He made great progress in learning, and at the age of eight years, wrote Latin letters frequently both to the king, to queen Catherine Parre, to the archbishop of Canterbury, and his uncle the earl of Hert- ford. Upon his father's decease, the earl of Hertford and sir Anthony Brown were sent to bring him to the Tower of London : and when Henry's death was published, he was proclaimed king. At his coming to the Tower, his father's will was opened, by which it was found that he had named sixteen noblemen and gentlemen to be the governors of the king- dom, and of his son's person till he should be eighteen years of age. These were, the archbishop of Canterbury ; lords Wriothesly, St. John, Russel, Hertford, and Lisle ; Tonstall, bishop of Durham; sir Anthony Brown, sir William Paget, sir Edward North, sir Ed- ward Montague, lord chief justice of the common pleas; judge Brom- ley, sir Anthony Denny, sir Wil- liam Herbert, sir Edward Wotton, and Dr. Wotton, dean of Canter- bury and York. They were also to give the king's sisters in mar- riage ; who, if they married with- out their consent, were to forfeit their right of succession. A privy council was also named to be their assistants in the government. As might have been expected, dissensions soon arose among so numerous a party ; and, on its being proposed that one should be cho- sen out of the sixteen to whom ambassadors should address them- selves, and who should have the chief direction of affairs ; lord Wriothesly, the chancellor, who thought the precedence fell to him by his office, since the archbishop did not meddle much in secular affairs, opposed this much, and said, " It was a change of the king's will ; who had made them all equal in power and dignity; and if any were raised above the rest in title, it would not be pos- sible to keep him within due bounds, since great titles make way for high power." Notwith- standing this, the earl of Hert- ford was declared governor of the king's person, and protector of the kingdom ; with this restriction, that he should do nothing but by the advice and consent of the rest. Upon this advancement, and the opposition made to it, two parties were formed, the one headed by the protector, and the other by the chancellor : the favourers of the reformation were of the former, and those that opposed it of the latter. The chancellor was ordered to renew the commissions of the judges and justices of peace, and king Henry's great seal was to be made use of, till a new one should be made. The day after this, all the executors took oaths to execute their trust faithfully, the privy counsellors were also brought into the king's presence, who all expressed their satisfac- tion in the choice of the protector : and it was ordered that all dis- patches to foreign princes should be signed only by him. All that held offices were required to come and renew their commissions, and to swear allegiance to the king: among the rest, came the bishops, and took out such commissions as were granted in the former reign, by which they were to hold their bishoprics only during the king's pleasure. Cranmer set an exam- ple to the rest in taking out one of these. This check upon the bi- shops was judged expedient in case they should oppose the reforma- tion ; but the ill consequences of such an unlimited power being foreseen, the bishops, who were afterwards promoted, were not so fettered, but were to hold their bi- shoprics during life. An accident soon occurred, which made way for great changes in the PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 349 diurch. The curate and church- wardens of St. Martin's in Lon- don, were brought before the coun- cil for removing the crucifix, and other images, and putting some texts of Scripture on the walls of their church, in the places where they stood ; they answered, that in repairing their church, they had removed the images, which being rotten they did not renew them, but put the words of Scripture in their room : they had also remov- ed others, which they found had been abused to idolatry. Great pains were taken by the popish party to punish them severely, in order to strike a terror into others ; but Cranmer was for the removing of all images set up in churches, as being expressly contrary both to the second commandment, and the practice of the purest Christians for many ages: and though, in compliance with the gross abuses of paganism, much of the pomp of their worship was very early brought into the Christian church, yet it was long before images were introduced. At first all images were condemned by the fathers ; then they allowed the use, but con- demned the worshipping of them ; and afterwards, in the eighth and ninth centuries, the worshipping of them was, after a long contest, both in the East and West, at last generally received. Some, in par- ticular, were believed to be more wonderfully endowed, and this was much improved by the cheats of the monks, who had enriched them- selves by such means. And this abuse had now grown to such a height, that heathenism itself had not been guilty of greater absur- dities towards its idols. Since all these abuses had risen out of the use of them, and the setting them np being contrary to the command of God, and the nature of the Christian religion, which is simple and spiritual ; it seemed most rea- sonable to cure the disease in its root, and to clear the churches of images, that the people might be preserved from idolatry. Tbese reasons preyailed so far, that the curate and church-war- dens were dismissed with a repri- mand ; they were ordered to be- ware of such rashness for the future, and to provide a crucifix, and, till that could be had, were ordered to cause one to be painted on the wall. Upon this. Dr. Rid- ley, in a sermon preached before the king, inveighed against the superstition towards images and holy-water, and spread over the whole nation a general disposi- tion to pull them down ; which soon after commenced in Ports- mouth. Upon this, Gardiner made great complaints ; he said, the Lutherans themselves went not so far, for he had seen images in their churches. He distinguished between image and idol, as if the one, which, he said, only was condemned, was the representation of a false God, and the other of the true ; and he thought, that as words conveyed by the ear begat devotion, so images, by the conveyance of the eye, might have the same effect on the mind. He also thought a virtue might be both in them and in holy-water, as well as there was in Christ's garments, Peter's shadow, or Elisha's staff: and there might be a virtue in holy- water, as well as in the water of baptism. To these arguments, which Gar- diner wrote in several letters, the protector answered, that the bi- shops had formerly argued much in another strain, namely, that be- cause the Scriptures were abused by the vulgar readers, therefore they were not to be trusted to them; and so made a pretended abuse the ground of taking away that which, by God's special ap- pointment, was to be delivered to all Christians. This held much stronger against images forbidden by God. The brazen serpent set up by Moses, by God's own direc- tion, was broken when abused to idolatry ; for that was the greatest corruption of religion possible: but yet the protector acknowledged there was reason to complain of 350 BOOK OF MARTYRS. the forwardness af the people, wlio broke down images without autho- rity; to prevent which, in future, orders were sent to the justices of peace to look well to the peace and government of the nation. The funeral of the deceased king was performed, with the usual ce- remonies, at Windsor. He had left six hundred pounds a year to the church of Windsor, for priests to say mass for his soul every day, and for four obits* a year, and sermons, and distribution of alms at every one of thera, and for a sermon every Sunday, and a maintenance for thirteen poor knights, which was settled upon that church by his executors in due form of law. The pomp of this endowment led people to examine into the useful- ness of soul-masses and obits. Christ appointed the sacrament for a commemoration of his death among the living, but it was not easy to conceive how that was to be applied to departed souls ; and it was evidently a project for drawing the wealth of the world into tlieir hands. In the primitive church there was a commemora- tion of the dead, or an honourable remembrance of them made in the daily offices. But even this cus- tom grew into abuse, and some in- ferred from it, that departed souls, unless they were signally pure, passed through a purgation in the next life, before they were admitted to Heaven;, of which St. Austin, in whose time the opinion began to be received, says, that it was taken up without any sure ground in Scriptuie. But what was wanting in Scripture-proof was supplied by visions, dreams, and tales, till it was generally re- ceived. King Henry had acted like one who did not much belj,eve it, for he had deprived innumera- ble souls of the masses that were said for them in monasteries, by destroying those foundations. Yet * Obit was the anniversary of a per- son's death, and to obsei ve such a day with prayers, alms, or other commemo- ration, was termed keeping of the oiit. he seems to have intended, that if masses could avail the departed souls, he would himself be secure; and as he gratified the priests by this part of his endowment, so he pleased the people by appointing sermons and alms to be given on such days. Thus he died as he had lived, wavering between both persuasions. But now the ceremony of the co- ronation took off the attention of the multitude from more serious thoughts. The protector was made duke of Somerset; the earl of Essex, marquis of Northampton; the lords Lisle and Wriothesly, earls of Warwick fand Southamp- ton; Seymour, Rich, Willoughby, and Sheffield, were made barons. In order to the king's coronation, the office for that ceremony was re- viewed, and much shortened ; one remarkable alteration was, that formerly the king used to be pre- sented to the people at the comers of the scaffold, and they were ask- ed if they would have him to be their king? Which looked like an election, rather than a ceremony of investing one that was already king. This was now changed, and the people were desired only to give their assent and good will to his coronation, as by the duty of allegiance they were bound to do. On the twentieth of February, 1547, he was crowned, and a gene- ral pardon was proclaimed, out of which the duke of Norfolk, cardi- nal Pole, and some others, were excepted. The chancellor, who was looked on as the head of the popish party, now lost his place, by granting a commission to the master of the rolls, and three masters of chan- cery, of whom two were civilians, to execute his office in the court of chancery, as if he were present, only their decrees were to be brought to htm to be signed be- fore they should be enrolled. The first business of consequence that required great consideration was the Smalcaldic war, then be- gun between the emperor and the princes of the protestant league : 3 PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 351 the effects of which, if the emperor prevailed, were like to be, not ouly the extirpating of Lutheran- ism, but his becoming the absolute master of Germany: which he chielly wished, as the first step to an universal monarchy, but dis- guised it to other princes: to the pope he pretended that his design was only to extirpate heresy; to other sovereigns he pretended it was to repress a rebellion, and de- nied all design of suppressing the new doctrines; which he managed so artfully, that he divided Ger- many against itself, and got some Lutheran princes to declare for him, and others to be neutrals: and having obtained a very liberal supply for his wars with France and the Turks, for which he grant- ed an edict for liberty of consci- ence, he made peace with both these princes, and resolved to em- ploy that treasure which the Ger^ mans had given him, against them- selves. That he might deprive them of their chief allies, he used means to engage king Henry and Francis the First in a war;- but that was, chieily by their interpo- sition, composed. And now, when the war was likely to be carried on with great vigour, both those princes died ; Henry in .January, and Francis in Majch following. Many of their confederates began to capitulate and forsake them; and the divisions among their own commanders very much hindered their success. The pope wished to engage the emperor in a war in Germany, that so Italy might be at peace : and in order to accomplish this object, he published the treaty which had been made between them, that so it might appear that the design of the war was to ex- tirpate heresy, though the em- peror was making great protesta- tions to the contrary in Germany. He also opened the council of Trent, which Charles had long desired in vain; but it was now brought upon him wlien he least wished for it; for the protestants all declared, that they could not look upon it as a free general council, since it was so entirely at the pope's devotion, that not so much as a reformation of the grossest abuses was likely to be obtained. Nor could the emperor prevail with the council not to condemn the " new doctrines" as heresy ; but the more he attempted to obstruct its proceedings, the more did the pope urge it on, to open the eyes of the Germans, and engage them all vigorously against the emperor; who, on his part, gave them such secret assurances of tolerating the Augsburgh con- fession, that the marquis of Bran- denburgh declared for him, and his example was followed by seve- ral other princes. This was the state of affairs in Germany ; which rendered it very diflicnlt to deter- mine what answer the protector should give the duke of Saxony's chancellor, whom he had sent over to obtain money for carrying on the war. It was, on the one hand, of great importance to the safety of England to preserve the German princes, and yet it was very dangerous to begin a war of such consequence under an infant king. At present the government only promised, within three months, to send 50,000 crowns t» Hamburgh, and would do no more till new emergencies should lead them to new counsels. The nation was in an ill condi- tion for a war with such a mighty prince ; — labouring under great dis- tractions at home; the people ge- nerally crying out for a reforma- tion, despising the clergy, and lov- ing the new preachers. The priests were, for the most part, very ignorant, and scandalous in their lives: many of them had been monks, and those who were to pay them the pensions which were reserved to them at the de- struction of the monasteries, till they should be provided, took care to get them into some small bene- fice. The greatest part of the par- sonages were impropriated, for they belonged to the monasteries, and the abbots had only granted 332 BOOK OF MARTYRS. the incumbents, either the vicar- age, or some small donative, and left them the perquisites raised by masses and other offices. At the suppression of those houses there was no care taken to make provi- sion for the incumbents; so that they were in some measure com- pelled to continue in their idola- trous practices for subsistence. Now these persons saw that a reformation of those abuses would deprive them of their means of ex- istence ; and, therefore, they were at first zealous against all changes; but the same principle made them comply with every change which was made, rather than lose their benefices. The clergy were en- couraged in their opposition to the reformation by the protection they expected from Gardiner, Bonner, and Tonstall, men of great reputa- tion, and in power; and, above all, the lady Mary, the next heir to the crown, openly declared against all changes till the king should be of age. On the other hand, Cranmer re- solved to proceed more vigorously: the protector was firmly united to him, as were the young king's tu- tors, and Edward himself was as much engaged as could be ex- pected from so young a person; for both his knowledge and zeal for true religion were above his age. Several of the bishops also declared for a reformation, but Ridley, bishop of Rochester, was the person on whom Cranmer most depended. Latimer remained with him at Lambeth, and did great service by his sermons, which were very popular; but he would not return to his bishopric, choosing rather to serve the church in a more disengaged man- ner. Assisted by these persons, Cranmer resolved to proceed by degrees, and to give the reasons of every advance so fully, that he hoped, by the blessing of God, to convince the nation of the fitness of whatsoever should be done, and thereby prevent the dangerous op- position that might otherwise be apprehended. A VISITATION OF ALL THE CHURCHES. The power of the privy council had been much exalted in the last reign, by act of parliament; and one proviso made was, that the king's council should have the same authority when he was under age that he himself had at full age : it was, therefore, resolved to begin with a general visitation of all England, which was divided into six precincts: and two gentlemen, a civilian, a divine, and a register, were appointed for each of these. But before they were sent out, a letter was written to all the bi- shops, giving them notice of it, suspending their jurisdiction while it lasted, and requiring them to preach no where but in their cathedrals, and that the other clergy should not preach but in their own churches, without li- cence ; by which it was intended to restrain such as were not ac- ceptable, to their own parishes, and to grant the others licences to preach in any church of England. The greatest difficulty the reform- ers found, was in the want of able and prudent men; most of the re- formed preachers being too hot and indiscreet, and the few who were otherwise, were required in London and the universities. The only thing by which the people could be universally in- structed, was a book of homilies: therefore, the twelve first homilies, in the book still known by that name, were compiled; in framing which the chief design was to ac- quaint the people rightly with the nature of the gospel-covenant. Orders were also given, that a Bible should be in every church, which, though it had been com- manded by Henry, yet had not been generally obeyed; and for understanding the New Testa- ment, Erasmus's paraphrase was translated into English, and ap- pointed to be placed with it. His great reputation and learning, and his dying in the communion of the Roman church, made this book preferable to any other of the kind. PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 353 The injunctions made by Crom- well in the former reign, for in- structing the people, for removing images, and putting down all other customs abused to superstition; for reading the Scriptures, saying the litany in English, for frequent sermons and catecliising, for the exemplary lives of the clergy, their labours in visiting the sick, reconciling differences, and ex- horting the people to charity, &;c. were now renewed; and all who gave livings by simoniacal bar- gains, were declared to have for- feited their right of patronage to the king. A great charge was also given for the strict observation of the Lord's day, which was ap- pointed to be spent wholly in the service of God, it not being enough to hear mass or matins in the morning, and spend the rest of the day in drunkenness and /rtrj/. Well, I pray you make the answer (as I have said) to this matter yourself; for you know the answer well enough. But if there be no remedy but I must make you answer, this shall be your answer ; the door of the parish-church ad- joining shall be open for you if you come, and ye may preach if you list ; but neither I nor any of mine shall hear you. " Bishop. Madam, T trust you will not refuse God's word. " Mary. I cannot tell what ye call God's word ; that is not God's word now, that was God's word in my father's days. " Bishop. God's word is all one in all times, but hath been better understood and practised in some ages than in other. " Mary. You durst not for your ears have avouched that for God's word in my father's days, that now you do. And as for your new books, I thank God I never read any of them ; I never did, nor ever will do. " And after many bitter words against the form of religion then established, and against the go- vernment of the realm, and the laws made in the young years of her brother, which she said she was not bound to obey till her brother came to perfect age, and then she affirmed she would obey them ; she asked the bishop ' whether he were PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 373 one of the council?' he answered, 'No.' — 'You might well enoug^h/ said she, ' as the council goeth now-a-days.' " And so she concluded with these words: 'My lord, for your gentleness to come and see me, I thank you ; but for your oflering to preach before me, I thank you never a whit.' " Then the said bishop was brought by sir Thomas Wharton to the place where they dined, and was desired to drink. And after he had drunk, he paused awhile, looking very sadly, and suddenly brake out into these words: ' Sure- ly, I have done amiss.' — ' Why so?' quoth sir Thomas Wharton. ' For I have drunk,' said he, 'in- that place where God's word offered hath been refused: whereas, if I had remembered my duty, I ought to have departed immediately, and to have shaken off the dust of my shoes for a testimony against this house.' These words were by the said bishop spoken with such a ve- hemency, that some of the hearers afterwards confessed their hair to stand upright on their heads. This done, the said bishop departed, and so returned to his house." FALL AND DEATH OF THE DUKE OF SOMERSET. About this time, the earl of Warwick, to strengthen his party against Somerset, prevailed on the king to confer new titles on several noblemen, and to raise some com- moners to the peerage. He was himself created duke of Northum- berland ; the marquis of Dorset "was made duke of Suffolk ; Paulet, marquis of Winchester ; Herbert, earl of Pembroke ; Russel, earl of Bedford ; and Darcy, lord Darcy. An apparent reconciliation had taken place between Somerset and Northumberland ; but each distrusted the other, and was pre- pared to seize the first opportunity of crushing his rival. Northum- berland's superior skill gave him the advantage ; and upon informa- tion of a pretended plot to assassi- nate him and some of his friends, the duke and duch»ss of Somerset, with several other persons, were committed to the Tower. On the first of December, 1551, the duke was brought to his trial : the mar- quis of Winchester presided, and twenty-seven peers sat as judges, among whom were the dukes of Suffolk and Northumberland, and the earl of Pembroke. He was charged with a design to seize on the king's person, to assassinate Northumberland, to take posses- sion of the Tower and city of Lon- don, and to destroy the king's guards. It seemed a gross dere- liction of justice for Northumber- land to sit as a judge, when the crime objected, was a design against his life : but hatred of his rival carried him beyond the bounds of decency. Somerset, in his defence, denied all designs to raise the people, or to kill Nor- thumberland; "or, if he had talk- ed of it, it was in passion, without any intention of doing so : and it Avas ridiculous to think, that he with a small troop could destroy the guards, who were 900 strong. The few armed men he had about him,were only for his own defence ; he had done no mischief to his ene- mies, though it was once in his power to have done it ; and he had surrendered himself without any resistance." He desired the wit- nesses might be brought face to face with him ; but this common act of justice was denied, and their depositions were only read. Dur-* ing the trial, he behaved with great temper, and all the abuse which the king's counsel made use of in pleading against him, did not provoke him to any indecent pas- sion. When sentence was given, his courage sunk a little, and he beg- ged pardon of the three lords, who were his enemies, and entreated them to solicit the king in his fa- vour, or at least to protect his wife and children. But instead of in- terceding for him, Northumber- land determined to free himself from all further fear, by the sacri- fice of his ancient rival, and ac- 374 BOOK OF MARTYRS. coidiugly employed his emissaries to prejudice the king as^ainst his uncle, by pretending that, while in the Tower, he had confessed a design to employ some persons to assassinate Northumberland, Nor- thampton, and Pembroke. This being believed by the king, he gave him up to his enemies. Stanhope, Partridge, Arundel, and Vane, the duke's friends and pretended accomplices, were nest tried: the two first were not much pitied, for they hacV made an ill use of their interest with the duke while in power : the last two were much lamented. They were all condemned ; Partridge and Vane were hanged, the other two were bel>€aded. Six weeks after his trial, the unfortunate duke was brought to the scafibld, and as Mr. Fox, the author of this work, was present at his execution, we shall give his account of it in his own words. "In the year of our Lord 1552, the two and twentieth of January, the duke of Somerset, uncle to king Edward, was brought out of the Tower of London, and accord- ing to the manner delivered to the sheriffs of the city, and compassed about with a great number of armed men both of the guard and others. He was brought unto the scaffold on Tower-hill, where he, nothing changing either voice or counten- ance, but in a manner with the same gesture which he commonly used at home, kneeling upon both his knees, and lifting up his hands, commended himself unto God. " After he had ended a few short prayers, standing up again, and turning himself toward the east side of the scaffold, nothing at all abashed (as it seemed tome, stand- ing about the midst of the scaffold, and diligently marking all things) either with the sight of the axe, or yet of the executioner, or of pre- sent death ; but with the same alacrity and cheerfulness of mind and countenance as he was ac- customed to shew when he heard the causes and supplication of others, and especially the poor (towards whom, as it were with a certain fatherly love to his chil- dren, he always shewed himself most attentive) he uttered these words to the people : " ' Dearly beloved friends, I am brought hither to suffer death, albeit that I never offended against the king, neither by word nor deed, and have been always as faithful and true unto this realm as any man. But forsomuch as I am by a law condemned to die, I do ac- knowledge myself as well as others to be subject thereunto. Where- fore, to testify my obedience which I owe unto the laws, I am come hither to suffer death ; whereunto I willingly offer myself, with most hearty thanks unto God, that hath given me this time of repentance, who might through sudden death have taken away my life, that neither I should have acknowledg- ed him nor myself. " ' Moreover, dearly beloved friends, there is yet somewhat that I must put you in mind of, as touch- ing Christian religion ; which so long as I was in authority, I al- ways diligently set forth and fur- thered to my power. Neither do I repent me of my doings, but re- joice therein, sith that now the state of Christian religion cometh most near unto the form and order of the primitive church. Which thing I esteem as a great benefit given of God both unto you and me ; most heartily exhorting you all, that this, which is most purely set forth unto you, you will with like thankfulness accept and em- brace, and set out the same in your living. Which thing if you do not, without doubt greater mis- chief and calamity will follow.' '* When he had spoken these words, there was suddenly a ter- rible noise heard ; whereupon there came a great fear upon all men. This noise was as it had been the noise of some great storm or tem- pest, which to "some seemed to be from above ; as if a great deal of gunpowder being inclosed in an armoury, and having caught fire, had violently broken out. But 3 PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 375 uuto some it seemed as though it had been a o-ieat multitude of horsemen running together, or coming upon them. Such a noise then was in the ears of all, although they saw nothing. Whereby it happened that all the people being amazed without any evident cause, they ran away, some into the ditches and puddles, and some into the houses thereabouts ; others fell down groveling unto the ground, with their pollaxes and halberds ; and most of them cried out, ' Jesus save us ! Jesus s.nve us !' Those who remained in their places, for fear knew not where they were ; and I myself, who was there among the rest, being also afraid in this hurly burly, stood still amazed. It happened here, as the evangelist wrote of Christ, when as the officers of the high priests and pharisees, coming with weapons to take him, being asto- nished, ran backwards and fell to the ground. " In the mean time, whilst these things were thus in doing, the people by chance espied one sir Anthony Brown riding under the scaffold ; which was the occasion of a new noise. For when they saw him coming, they conjectured that which was not true, but which they all sincerely wished for, that the king by that messenger had sent his uncle pardon: and there- fore with great rejoicing and cast- ing up their caps, they cried out, ' Pardon, pardon is come ! God save the king.' Thus this good duke, although he was destitute of all men's help, yet he saw, before his departure, in how great love and favour he was with all men. And truly I do not think that in so great slaughter of dukes as hath been in England within these few years, there were so many weeping eyes at one time; and not without cause. For all men saw in his fall the public ruin of England, except such as indeed did perceive nothing. "But to return from whence we have strayed; the duke in the mean time standing still in the same place, modestly and with a grave countenance made a sign to the people with his hand, that they would keep themselves quiet. Which done, and silence obtained, he spake unto them in this manner. " ' Dearly beloved friends, ^there is no such matter here in hand as you vainly hope or believe. It seemeth thus good unto Almighty God, whose ordinance it is meet and necessary that we all be obe- dient unto. Wherefore I pray you all to be quiet, and to be con- tented with my death, which I am most willing to suffer ; and let ua now join in prayer unto the Lord for the preservation of the king's majesty, unto whom, hitherto, I have always shewed myself a most faithful and true subject. I have always been most diligent about his majesty in his affairs both at home and abroad, and no less di- ligent in seeking the common good of the whole realm.' At which words all the people cried out, ' It is most true.' "Then the duke proceeding, said, ' Unto whose majesty I wish continual health, with all felicity, and all prosperous success.' Whereunto the people again cried out * Amen.' " ' Moreover, I do wish unto all his counsellors the grace and favour of God, whereby they may rule in all things uprightly with justice. Unto whom I exhort you all in the Lord to shew yourselves obe- dient, as it is your bounden duty, under the pain of condemnation, and also most profitable for the preservation and safeguard of the king's majesty. " ' Moreover, as heretofore I have had oftentimes affairs with divers men, and hard it is to please every man, therefore, if there be any who hath been offended and injured by me, I most humbly re- quire and ask him forgiveness ; but especially Almighty God, whom throughout all my life I have most grievously offended : and all other whatsoever they be that have offended me, I do with my whole heart forgive tiiem. Now 376 BOOK OF MARTYRS. I once again require you, dearly beloved in the Lord, that you will keep yourselves quiet and still, lest through your tumult you might trouble me. For albeit the spirit be willing and ready, the flesh is frail and wavering, and through your quietness I shall be much more composed. Moreover, I de- sire you all to bear me witness that I die here in the faith of Jesus Christ ; desiring you to help me with your prayers, that I may per- severe constantly in the same unto my end.' " After this, turning himself again he kneeled down. Then Dr. Cox, who was present to counsel and advise him, delivered a certain scroll into his hand, wherein was contained a brief confession unto God. Which being read, he stood up again upon hi.s feet, without any trouble of mind (as it appear- ed) and first bade the sheriffs fare- well, then the lieutenant of the Tower, and others, taking them all by the hands which were upon the scaffold with him. Then he gave money to the executioner; which done, he put off his gown, and kneeling down again in the straw, untied his shirt-strings. After that, the executioner coming to him turned down his collar about his neck, and all other things which hindered him. Then lifting up his eyes to heaven, and covering his face with his own handkerchief, he laid himself down along, shew- ing no trouble or fear, neither did his countenance change. " Thus this meek and gentle duke lying along, and looking for the stroke, because his doublet covered his neck, he was com- manded to rise up and put it off ; and then laying himself down again upon the block, and calling thrice upon the name of Jesus, saying, ' Lord Jesus, save me,' as he was the third time repeating the same, even as the name of Jesus was in uttering, in a moment he was bereft both of nead and life, and slept ir the Lord ; being taken away from ali dangers and evils of this life, and resting now in the peace of God ; in the pre- ferment of Avhose truth and gospel he always shewed himself an ex- cellent instrument and member, and therefore hath received the reward of his labours." Somerset was a man of extraor- dinary virtues, great candour, and eminent piety : he was always a promoter of justice, and a patron of the oppressed. He was a bet- ter soldier than a statesman, being too easy and open-hearted for his situation. The people saw, that the conspiracy for which he and the other four suffered, was merely a pretence for their murder: the other accomplices were soon dis- charged, and Palmer, the chief witness, became Northumberland's particular confidant. The whole affair was looked on as a contriv- ance of the latter, by which he en- tirely lost the affections of the people. The chief objection to Somerset was, his having raised much of his estate out of the spoils of church lands, and his palace of Somerset house in the Strand, out of the ruins of some churcheii and bishops' palaces. The day after the duke of Somer- set's execution, parliament assem- bled. The first act they passed was the established common pray- er book, as it was then amended. Another law was passed, by which it was enacted that " No days were to be esteemed holy in their own nature, but by reason of those holy duties which ought to be done in them, for which they were dedicat- ed to the service of God. Days were esteemed to be dedicated only to the honour of God, even those in which the saints were commemorated ; Sundays, and the other holy-days, were to be reli- giously observed, and the bishops were to proceed to censures against offenders. The eves before them were to be fasts, and abstinence from flesh was ordered both in Lent, and on every Friday and Saturday." An act likewise passed for the marriage of the clergy, in which it was stated, " That whereas the former act REFORMATION IN IRELAND. 377 about it was thought only a per- mission of it, as some other un- lawful things were connived at ; upon which the wives and children of the clergy were reproachfully used, and the word of God was not heard with due reverence ; therefore their marriages were de- clared good and valid." The bi- shopric of Westminster was re- united to London, only the colle- giate church was still continued. The convocation now confirmed the articles of religion which had been prepared the former year, and thus was the reformation of worship and doctrine brought to such a degree of perfection, that since that time there has been very little alteration made. Another branch of it was still unfinished, but was now under consultation, touching the government of the church and the ecclesiastical courts. This matter had been at- tempted several times during the last and present reigns ; but the changes in the government had caused it to be laid aside. It wa.s now revived, and eight eminent bishops, and others, were appointed to draw up a plan, which was af- terwards to be submitted to thirty- two commissioners. Tt was gene- rally believed that Cranmer drew it entirely by himself, while the others only corrected what he de- signed. Haddon and Cheek trans- lated it into Latin ; which they did with great ability. The work was divided into fifty-one titles ; and being laid before the commission- ers, was by them to have been pre- sented to the king for his confirma- tion ; but he died before it was quite finished, nor was it ever af- terwards resumed. About this time the dilapidated state of the church revenues en- gaged the attention of the council, but so many persons of power and influence were interested to pre- vent a remedy being aflorded, that the affair was dropped. In every see, as it became vacant, the best manors were laid hold of by such hungry courtiers as could procure the grant of them. They seemed to think, that the bishops' sees were so rich that they could never be made poor enough : but they were soon reduced to so low a con- dition that it was hardly possible for a bishop to subsist in them. If what had been thus taken from them had been converted to good uses, such as the maintenance of the poor and inferior clergy, it would have been some excuse for the violence, but the lands were laid hold of by laymen, who made no compensation for the spoils thus gained by them. REFORMATION IN IRELAND. This year the reformation had gained more ground in Ireland than formerly. Henry VIII. had assumed to himself, by consent of the parliament of that kingdom, the title of king of it : the former kings of England having only been called Lords of Ireland ; and though they were obeyed within the English pale, yet the native Irish continued barbarous and un- civilized, were governed entirely by the heads of their names or tribes, and were obedient or re- bellious, as they directed them. The reformation was set on foot in the English pale, but made small progress among the Irish. At length Bale was sent over to labour among them. He was an eager writer, and a learned zea- lous man. Goodacre was made primate of Armagh, and Bale was to be bishop of Ossory. Two Irishmen were also promoted with them ; who undertook to advance the reformation there. The arch- bishop of Dublin intended to have ordained them by the old pontifical, and all, except Bale, were willing it should be so, but he prevailed that it should be done according to the new book of ordinations : he then went into his diocese, but found all there in dark popery, and before he could make any progress the king's death put an end to hi.s designs. The world had long been anxi- ously looking for the result of the council of Trent, trusting that it 378 BOOK OF MARTYRS. might leard to the establishment of order throughout the European countries, and it appeared no less to have been desired both by prin- ces and bishops, in hopes that dif- ferences of religion would have been composed, and the corruptions of the court of Rome reformed by it. This had made the pope very ap- prehensive of it : but such was the cunning of the legates, the number of Italian bishops, and the dissen- tions of the princes, that it had ef- fects quite contrary to what all parties expected. The breach in religion was made past reconciling, by the positive decisions of the council : the abuses of the court of Rome w^ere confirmed by the provi- sos made in favour of the privi- leges of the apostolic see ; and all men were at length so cured of their longings for a general coun- cil, that none has been since that time desired. The history of that council was written with great ex- actness and judgment by Father Paul of Venice, while it was yet fresh in all men's memories ; and though it discovered the whole se- cret of the transactions there, yet no one ventured to contradict it for forty years : till Pallavicini at last undertook it, and, upon the credit of memorials, he, in many things, contradicts Father Paul ; but in the principal events of the history, they both agree so far, that it is manifest things were not fairly con- ducted, and that all matters were managed by intrigues and secret practices. LIBERATION OF GERMANY. Prince Maurice declared for the liberty of Germany, and took Augs- burgh, and several other towns. The king of France also entered the empire with a large army, and by surprise made himself master of Metz, Toul, and Verdun. Maurice demanded that the land- grave should be set at liberty, and that freedom of religious worship should be secured throughout the empire. The emperor being slow in making answer, the prince marched on to Inspruck, where he surprised a post, and was within two miles of Charles before he was aware of his approach ; so that he was obliged to escape by torch- light, and went to Italy. Thus'the very army and prince that had been chiefly instrumental in the ruin of the empire, now asserted its free- dom ; and all the emperor's great designs were frustrated, he was forced to discharge his prisoners, to recall his proscriptions, and, after some treaty, to grant the edict of Passaw, by which the free exer- cise of the protestant religion was granted to the princes and towns ; and thus that storm which had al- most over A helmed the princes of the protestant religion, subsided, without any considerable eflect, except the transference of the elec- toral dignity from John to Mau- rice. The emperor's misfortunes in- creased ; for, against all reason, he besieged Metz in December, but after he had lost almost the whole of his army in the siege, he was forced to raise it. Upon that he retired into Flanders in such discontent, that for some time he would not admit any to approach him. Here it was believed he first formed that design, which some years after he put in execution, of forsaking the world, and exchang- ing the pomp of a court for the re- tirement of a monastery. This strange and unlooked-for turn in his affairs gave a great demonstra- tion of an over-ruling Providence that governs all human aflairs, and of that paiticular care that God had of the Reformation, in recover- ing it, when it seemed to be lost beyond all hope, in Germany. In the year 1553, another visita- tion took place in England. The visitors were sent to examine what plate was in every church, with or- ders to leave only one or two cha- lices of silver, with linen for the communion-table and for surplices, and to bring in all other things of value to the treasurer of the king's household. THE king's sickness. We now draw to the conclusion SICKNESS OF EDWARD VL 379 of the reign of fhis youthful king ; who while he was a child in age was a man in wisdom. He had contracted great colds by violent exercises, which, in January settled into so obstinate a cough that all tlie skill of phy- sicians, and the aid of medicine proved ineflectual. There was a suspicion over all Europe, that he was poisoned : but no certain grounds appear for justifying it. During his sickness, Ridley preached before him, and among other things spoke much on works of charity, and the duty of men of high condition, to be eminent in good works. The king was much touched with this ; and after the •sermon, he sent for tlie bishop, and treated him with such respect, that he made him sit down and be covered : he then told him what impression his exhortation had made on him, and therefore he desired to be directed by him, how to do his duty in that matter. Ridley took a little time to con- sider of it, and after some consul- tation with the lord mayor and al- dermen of London, he brought the king a scheme of several founda- tions ; one for the sick and wound- ed, another for such as were wil- fully idle, or were mad ; and a third for orphans. Edward, acting on this suggestion, endowed St. Bartholomew's hospital for the first, Bridewell for the second, and Christ's hospital, near Newgate, for the third ; and he enlarged the grant which he had made the year before, for St. Thomas's hospital, in Southwark. The statutes and warrants relating to these were not finished till the 26th of .Tune, though he gave orders to make all the haste that was possible : and when he set his hand to them he blessed God for having prolonged his life till he had finished his de- .signs concerning them. These houses have, by the good govern- ment and the great charities of the city of London, continued to be so useful, and grown to be so well endowed, that now they may be reckoned among the noblest in Europe. The king bore his sickness with great submission to the will of God ; and seemed concerned in nothing so much as the state that religion and the church would be in after his death. The duke of Northumberland, who was at the head of aflairs, resolved to im- prove the fears the king was in concerning religion, to the advan- tage of lady Jane Grey, who was married to his son, lord Guildford Dudley. Edward was easily per- suaded by him to order the judges to put some articles, which he had signed, for the succession of the crown, in the common form of law. They answered, that the succession being settled by act of parliament, could not be taken away, except by parliament: yet the king per- sisted in his orders. The judges then declared, before the council, that it had been made treason by an act passed in this reign, to change the succession ; so that they could not meddle with it. Montague was chief justice, and spake in the name of the rest. On this, Northumberland fell into a violent passion, calling hkn traitor, for refusing to obey the king's commands. But the judges were not moved by his threats ; and they were again brought before the king, who sharply rebuked them for their delays. They re- plied that all they could do would be of no force without a parlia- ment: yet they were required to perform it in the best manner they could. At last Montague desired they might first have a pardon for what they were to do, which being granted, all the judges, except Cosnaid and Hales, agreed to the patent, and deliveredtheir opinions, that the lord cTiancellor might put the seal to the articles, drawn up by the king, and that then they would be good in law. Cosnaid was at last prevailed on to join in the same opinion, so that Hales, who was a zealous protestant, was 380 BOOK OF MARTYRS. tbe only man who stood out to the last. The privy counsellors were next required to sign the paper. Ce- cil, in a relation he wrote of this transaction, says, that " hearing some of the judges declare so po- sitively that it was against law, he refused to set his hand to it as a privy counsellor, but signed it only as a witness to the king's sub- scription." Cranmer came not to the council when it was passed there, and refused to consent to it, when he was pressed to it; saying, "he Mould never have a hand in dis- inheriting his late master's daugh- ters." The dying king at last by his importunity prevailed with him to do it ; upon which the great seal was put to the patents. The king's distemper continued to increase, so that the physicians despaired of his recovery. A con- fident woman undertook his cure, and he was put into her hands, but she left him worse than she found him ; and this heightened the jea- lousy against the duke of Northum- berland, who had introduced her, and dismissed the physicians. At last, to crown his designs, he got the king to write to his sisters to come and divert him in his sick- ness : and the exclusion had been conducted so secretly, that they, apprehending no danger, began their journey. On the 6th of July the king felt the approach of death, and prepar- ed himself for it in a most devout manner. He was often heard offer- ing up prayers and ejaculations to God : particularly a few moments before he died he prayed earnest- ly that the Lord would take him out of this wretched life, and com- mitted his spirit to him ; he inter- ceded very fervently for his sub- jects, that God would preserve England from popery, and main- tain his true religion among them. The last words he uttered were these, " I am faint ; Lord have mercy upon me, and take ray spi- rit." Soon aft«r that he breathed out his innocent soul in sir Henry Sydney's arms. Bishop Burnet, in his History of the Reformation, gives the fol- lowing character of this excellent young prince. " Thus died Edward the Sixth in the sixteenth year of his age. He was covmted the wonder of that time ; he was not only learned in the tongues, and the liberal sciences, but knew well the state of his kingdom. He kept a table- book, in which he had written the characters of all the eminent men of the nation ; he studied fortifica- tion, and understood the mint well : he knew the harbours in all his dominions, with the depth of wa- ter, and way of coming into them. He understood foreign aflairs so well, that the ambassadors who were sent into England published very extraordinary things of him, in all the courts of Europe. He had great quickness of apprehen- sion, but being distrustful of his memory, he took notes of «very thing he heard, that was consider- able, in Greek characters, that those about him might not under- stand what he wrote, which he af- terwards copied out fair in the jour- nal that he kept. His virtues were wonderful ; when he was made to believe, that his uncle was guilty of conspiring the death of the other counsellors, he upon that abandoned him. *' Barnaby Fitzpatrick was his fa- vourite, and when he sent him to travel, he often wrote to him, to keep good company, to avoid ex- cess and luxury, and to improve himself in those things that might render him capable of employment at his return. He was afterwards made lord of Upper Ossory in Ire- land, by queen Elizabeth, and an- swered the hopes which this excel- lent prince had of him. Edward was very merciful in his nature, which appeared in his unwillingness to sign the warrant for burning the Maid of Kent. He took great care to have his debts well paid, reckon- ing that a prince who breaks his CHARACTER OF EDWARD VI. 381 faith, and loses his credit, has thrown up that which he can never recover, and made himself liable to perpetual distrust, and extreme contempt. lie took special care of the petitions that were given him by poor and oppressed people. But his great zeal for religion crowned all the rest. It was not a temporary heat about it that actuat- ed him, but it was a true tender- ness of conscience, founded on the love of God and his neighbours. " These extraordinary qualities, set off with great sweetness and aifability, made him universally be- loved by all his people. Some called him their Josias, others Ed- ward the Saint, and others called him the Phoenix that rose out of his mother's ashes ; and all people concluded, that the sins of Eng- land must have been very great, since they provoked G od to deprive the nation of so signal a blessing, as the rest of his reign would, to all appearance, have proved. Bi- shop Ridley, and the other good men of that time, made great la- mentations of the vices which were grown tlien so common, that men had past all shame in them. Lux- ury, oppression, and a hatred of religion had over-run the higher rank of people, who gave a coun- tenance to the reformation merely to rob the church ; but by that, and their other practices, were become a great scandal to so good a work. The inferior sort were so much in the power of the priests, who were still, notwithstanding their outward compliance, papists, and were so much offended at the spoil they saw made of all good endowments, without putting other and more useful ones in their room, that they who understood little of religion, laboured under great prejudices against every thing that was ad- \anced by such tools. And these things, as they provoked God high- ly, so they disposed the people much to that sad catastrophe, which was experienced in the fol- lowing reign." In 1552, Cardan, the great philo- sopher of that age, passed through England on his return from Scot- land to the Continent. He waited on Edward, and was so charmed with his great knowledge and rare qualities, that he always spake of him as the most wonderful person he had ever seen ; and after the death of the king, he wrote the fol- lowing character of him : " All the graces were in him : he understood many tongues, when he was yet but a child ; together with the English, his natural language, he knew both Latin and French; nor was he ignorant of the Greek, Italian, and Spanish, and perhaps some more ; but for the English, French, and Latin, he was exact in them, and was apt to learn every thing. Nor was he ig- norant of logic, of the principles of natural philosophy, nor of mu- sic ; the sweetness of his temper was such as became a mortal, his gravity becoming the majesty of a king, and his disposition was suit- able to his high degree : in sum, that child was so bred, had such parts, and was of such expecta- tion, that he looked liki"! a miracle of a man. These things are not spoken rhetorically, and beyond the truth, but are indeed short of it. " When I was with him, he was in the fifteenth year of his age, in which he spake Latin as politely, and as promptly as I did : he ask- ed me, what was the subject of my book, De rerum varietate, which I dedicated to him ? I answered, that in the first chapter, I gave the true cause of comets, which had been long inquired into, but was never found out before.' — ' What is it?' said he. I said, ' It was the con- course of the light of wandering stars.' He answered, ' How can that be, since the stars move in dif- ferent motions ? How comes it that the comets are not soon dissipated, or do not move after them, accord- ing to their motions V To this I an- swered, ' They do move after them, but much quicker than they, by reason of the different aspect ; as we see in crystal, or when a rain- bow rebounds from a wall : for a little change makes a great diflcr- 983 BOOK OF MARTYRS. ence of place.' But the king said, ' How can that be, where there is no subject to receive that light, as the wall is the subject for the rain- bow I' To this I answered, ' That this was as in the milky-way, or where many candles were lighted, the middle-place, where their shin- ing met, was white and clear. " From this little taste, it may be imagined what he was. And in- deed the ingenuity, and sweetness of his disposition, had raised in all good and learned men, the greatest expectation of him possible. He began to love the liberal arts be- fore he knew them, and to know them before he could use them: and in him there was such an attempt of nature, that not only England, but the world, hath rea- son to lament his being so early .snatched away. How truly was it said of such extraordinary persons, that their lives are short, and sel- dom do they come to be old! He gave us an essay of virtue, though he did not live to give a pattern of it. When the gravity of a king was needful, he carried himself like an old man, and yet he was always aflable and gentle, as be- came his age. He played on the lute : he meddled in affairs of state: and for bounty, he did in that emu- late his father: though he, even when he endeavoured to be too good, might appear to have been bad : but there was no ground of suspecting any such thing in the son." These extraordinary blossoms gave but too good reason to fear, that a fruit wliich ripened so fast, could not last Ions. BOOK X. ACCESSION OF QUEEN MARY, SUBVERSION OF RELIGION', AND PERSECUTIONS OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND, DURING HER REIGN. We now call the attention of the British protestants to a period of their church history that cannot fail to awaken in their heartsthat love for their ancestors, which, at present, we fear, lies dormant in too many. A long career of ease appears to have obliterated from their minds the troubles of their generous fore- fathers, who, for them, bled in every vein — for them, were con- signed to the devouring flames in every part of their country ; pre- paring and establishing for their descendants, by the sacrifice of themselves, political and religious libei-ty. And, while we behold, with gratitude and admiration, the ef- fects of their noble self-devotion, let us thenee learn to appreciate those blessings which, by the con- tinued providence of God, we have so long enjoyed ; and let us be confirmed more and more in our determination to resist every at- tempt, whether by open force or secret fraud, to deprive us and onr descendants of the privileges so dearly purchased. It has been asserted by the Ro- man catholics, " That all those who suflered death, during the reign of queen Mary, had been adjudged guilty of high treason, in conse- quence of their rising in de- fence of lady Jane Grey's title to the crown." To disprove this, how- ever, is no difflcult matter, since every one, conversant in English history, must know, that those who are found guilty of high treason are to be hanged and quartered. But how can even a papist affirm, that ever a man in England was burned for high- treason ? We ad- mit, that some few suffered death in the ordinary way of process at common law, for their adherence to lady Jane ; but none of those were burned. Why, if traitors, were they taken before the bishops, who have no power to judge in cri- minal cases ? Even allowing the bishops to have had power to ACCESSION OF MARY. 383 judge, yet their own bloody statute did not empower them to execute. The proceeding;s against the mar- tyrs are still extant, and they are carried on directly according to the forms prescribed by their own sta- tute. Not one of those Mho were burned in England, was ever ac- cused of high-treason, much less were they tried at common law. And this should teach the reader to value a history of transactions in his own country, particularly as it relates to the sufferings of the blessed martyrs in defence of tlie religion he professes, in order that he may be able to remove the veil which falsehood has cast over the face of truth. Having said thus much, by way of introduction, we shall proceed with the Acts and Monuments of the British Martyrs. By the death of king Edward, the crown devolved, according to law, on his eldest sister Mary, who was within half a day's journey to the court, when she had notice given her by the earl of Arundel, of her brother's death, and of the patent for lady Jane's succession. Upon this she retired to Framlingham, in Suffolk, to be near the sea, that she might escape to Flanders, in case of necessity. Before she arrived there, she wrote, on the 9th of July, to the council, telling them, that " she understood, that her brother was dead, by which she succeeded to the crown, but wondered that she heard not from them ; she well understood what consultations they had engaged in, but she would par- don all such as would return to their duty, and proclaim her title to the crown." It was now found, that the king's death could be no longer kept a secret ; accordingly some of the privy council went to lady Jane, and acknowledged her as their queen*. The news of the king's death afflicted her much, and her * The lady Jane was daughter to the duke of Suffolk, and grand-daughter to Mary, sister to Henry VIII, who, on the death of her first husband, the king of France, married Charles Brandon, after- wards created duke of Suffolk. being raised to the throne, rather increased than lessened her trou- ble. She was a person of extraor- dinary abilities, acquirements, and virtues. She was mistress both of the Greek and Latin tongues, and delighted much in study. As she was not tainted with the levities which usually accompany her age and station, so she seemed to have attained to the practice of the highest fortitude ; for in those sud- den turns of her condition, as she was not exalted with the prospect of a croA^Si, so she was little cast down, when her palace was made her prison. The only passion she shewed, was that of the noblest kind, in the concern she expressed for her father and husband, who fell with her, and seemingly on her account ; though, in reality, Northumberland's ambition, and her father's weakness, ruined her. She rejected the crown, when it was first offered her; she said, she knew that of right it belonged to the late king's sisters, and there- fore could not with a good con- science assume it ; but she was told, that both the judges and privy counsellors had declared, that it fell to her according to law. This, joined with the importunities of her husband, her father, and fa- ther-in-law, made her submit. — Upon this, twenty-one privy-coun- sellors set their hands to a letter to Mary, telling her that queen Jane was now their sovereign, and that as the marriage between her father and mother had been de- clared null, so she could not suc- ceed to the crown ; they therefore required her to lay down her pre- tensions, and to submit to the set- tlement now made ; and if she gave a ready obedience promised her much favour. The day after this they proclaimed Jane. Northumberland's knovra enmity to the late duke of Somerset, and the suspicions of his being the au- thor of Edward's untimely death, begot a great aversion in the peo- ple to him and his family, and dis- posed them to favour Mary ; who, in the mean time, was very active 384 BOOK OF MARTYRS. in raising forces to support her claim. To attach the protectants to her cause, she promised not to make any chano^e in the reformed worship, as established under her brother ; and on this assurance a large body of the men of Suflolk joined her standard. Northumberland was now per- plexed between his wish to assume the command of an army raised to oppose Mary, and his fear of leav- ing London to the government of the council, of whose fidelity he entertained great doubts,.^ He was, however, at lengthobligea to adopt the latter course, and before his departure from the metropolis he adjured the members of the coun- cil, and all persons in authority, to be steadfast in their attachment to the cause of queen Jane, on whose success, he assured them, depend- ed the continuance of the protes- tant religion in England. They promised all he required, and he departed, encouraged by their pro- testations and apparent zeal. Mary's party in the mean time continued daily to augment. Hastings went over to her with 4000 men out of Buckinghamshire, and she was proclaimed queen in many places. At length the privy council began to see their danger, and to think how to avoid it ; and besides fears for their personal safety, other motives operated with many of the members. To make their escape from the Tower, where they were detained, osten- sibly to give dignity to the court of queen Jane, but really as pri- soners, they pretended it was ne- cessary to give an audience to the foreign ambassadors, who would not meet them in the Tower; and the earl of Pembroke's house was appointed for the audience. When they met there they re- solved to declare for queen Mary, and rid themselves of Northumber- land's yoke, which they knew they must bear, if he were victorious. They sent for the lord mayor and aldermen, and easily gained their concurrence ; and Mary was pro- claimed queen on the 19th of July. They then sent to the Tower, re- quiring the duke of Suflolk to quit tiie government of that place, and the lady Jane to lay down the title of queen. To this she sub- mitted with much greatness of mind, and her father with abject- ness. The council next sent orders to Northumberland to dismiss his forces, and to obey the queen. When Northumberland heard this, he disbanded his forces, went to the market-place at Cambridge, where he then was, and proclaimed Mary as queen. The earl of Arun- del was sent to apprehend him, and when Northumberland was brought before him, he, in the most servile manner, fell at his feet to beg his favour. He, with three of his sons and sir Thomas Palmer, (his wicked tool in the de- struction of the duke of Somerset) were all sent to the Tower. Every one now flocked to im- plore the queen's favour, and Rid- ley among the rest, but he was committed to the Tower ; the queen being resolved to put Bonner again in the see of London. Some of the judges, and several noblemen, were also sent thither, among the rest the duke of Suffolk; who was, however, three days after, set at liberty. He was a weak man, could do little harm, and was con- sequently selected as the first per- son towards whom the queen should exert her clemency. Mary came to London on the 3d of August, and on the way was met by her sister, lady Elizabeth, with a thousand horse, whom she had raised to assist the queen. On arriving at the Tower, she liberated the duke of Norfolk, the duchess of Somerset, and Gardiner; also the lord Courtney, son to the marquis of Exeter, who had been kept there ever since his father's attainder, and whom she now made earl of Devonshire. Thus was seated on the throne of England the lady Mary, who, to a disagreeable person and weak mind, united bigotry, superstition, and cruelty. She seems to have CHARACTER OF MARY. 38d inherited more of hor mother's than her father's qualities. Henry was impatient, rough, and ung^o- vernable ; but Catherine, while she assumed the character of a saint, harboured inexorable rancour and hatred against the protestants. It was the same with her daughter Mary, as appears from a letter in her own hand-writing, now in the British Museum. In this letter, which is addressed to bishop Gar- diner, she declares her fixed in- tention of burning every protest- ant ; and there is an insinuation, that as soon as circumstances would permit, she would restore back to the church the lands that had been taken from the convents. This was the greatest instance of her weakness that she could shew: for in the first place the convents had been all demolished, except a few of their churches ; and the rents were in the hands of the first nobility, who, rather than part with them, would have overturned the government botli in church and state. Mitreus, JBis/uij) p/Aretltusa, hung up in a badiet, and 3tung lo death by uasps, A. D. 363. Mary was crowned at West- minster in the usual form ; but dreadful were the consequences that followed. The narrowness of spirit which always distinguishes a weak mind from one that has been enlarged by education, per- vaded all the actions of this princess. Unacquainted with the constitution of the countrj', and a slave to superstition, ahe thought FOX'S MARTYRS. to domineer over the rights of pri vate judgment, and trample on the privileges of mankind. The first exertion of her regal power was, to wreak her vengeance upon all those who had supported the title of lady Jane Grey. The first of these was the duke of Northumberland, who was be- headed on Tower-hill, and who, in consequence of his crimes, arising; 25 386 DOOK OF MA.RTYRS. from aitfWtlfNfili, assed, and even if it had, it was n all respects contrary to the word of God : for whatever emo- luments might have been bestowed upon the clergy from time to time, they had no right to persecute those who differed from them in sentiment. After he had been examined several times before the council, which was a mere mockery of justice, he was tamed over to Bon- ner, bishop of London, who caused him to go through a second mock examination; and, at last, de- clared him to be an obstinate he- retic. A certificate of this was, in the ordinary course, sent into chancery, and a writ was issued for the burning of Mr, Rogers in Smithfield. This sentence did not in the least frighten our martyr, who, by faith in the blood of Christ, was ready to go through with his attachment to the tiuth 388 BOOK OF MARTYRS. without paying any regard to the malice ot liis enemies. On the 4th of February, 1555, Mr. Rogers was taken out of New- gate, to be led to the place of exe- cution, when the sheriff asked him if he would recant his opinions ? To this he answered, "■ That what he had preached he would seal with his blood." " Then," said the sheriff, '*thou art an heretic." To which Mr. Rogers answered, " That will be kn®wn when we meet at the judgment seat of Christ." As they were taking him to Smithfield, his wife and eleven children went to take their last farewell of a tender husband, and an indulgent parent. The sheriffs, however, would not permit them to speak to him ; so unfeeling is bigotivy, so merciless is supersti- tion ! When he was chained to the stake he declared that God would in his own good time vin- dicate the truth of what he had taught, and appear in favour of the protestant religion. Fire was then set to the pile, and he was consumed to ashes. He was a very pious and hu- mane man, and his being singled out as the first victim of super- stitious cruelty, can only entitle hini to a higher crown of glory in heaven. MARTYRDOM OF LAURENCE SAUN- DERS. The next person who suffered in this reign was the reverend Mr. Laurence Saunders, of whose former life we have collected the following particulars : his father had a considerable estate in Ox- fordshire, but dying young, left a large family of children. Lau- rence was sent to Eton school as one of the king's scholars. From Eton he was, according to the rules of the foundation, sent to King's college in Cam- bridge, where he studied three years, and made great progress in the different sorts of learning then taught in the schools. At the end of the three years he left llic university, and returning to his mother, prevailed upon her to place him with a merchant. He was ^accordingly articled to sir William Chester, a rich mer- chant in London, who was after- wards sheriff of that city. He had not been long in this employ- ment, when he became weary of a life of trade. He sunk into a deep melancholy, and afterwards went into a retired chamber, to mourn for his imprudence, and to beg of God that he would, in some manner or other, deliver him from a life so disgustful. His master, who was a worthy man, took notice of this, and asked Saunders his reasons for being in that desponding condition? The young gentleman candidly told him ; upon which he immediately gave him up his indentures, and sent him home to his relations. This Saunders considered as a happy event, and that no time might be lost, he returned to his studies at Cambridge ; and, what was very uncommon in that age, he learned the Greek and Hebrew languages. After this he dc\oted himself wholly to the study of the sacred scriptures, in order to qualify himself for preaching the gospel. In study he was diligent, and practical in holiness of life ; in doing good few equalled him, and he seemed to have nothing in view but the happiness of immortal souls. In the beginning of king Edward's reign, when the true religion began to be countenanced, he entered into orders, and preached with great success. His first appointment was at Fotheringham, wliete he read a divinity lecture ; but that college having been dissolved, he was appointed a preacher in Lichfield. In that new station his conduct entitled him to great respect ; for such was his sweet- ness of temper, his knowledge in his profession, his eloquent man- ner of addressing his hearers, the purity of his manners, and his affectionate addresses to the heart, that he M'as universally respected and his ministry was very useful. REV. LAURENCE SAUNDERS. 38& After beinf^ some months in Lichfield, he removed to the living of Cburch-Langton, in Leicestershire : there he resided with his people, and instructed many who before were ignorant of the true principles of the Christian religion. He was the same to men's bodies as to their souls. AH that he received, besides the small pittance that supported his person, was given away to feed the hun- gry, and clothe the naked. Here was the Christian minister indeed ! for no instructions will make a last- ing impression on the mind, while the example is contrary. His next removal was to Alhal- lows, in Bread-street, London ; and when he had taken possession of it, he went down to the country, to part, in an affectionate manner, with his friends. While he was in the country king Edward died, and Mary suc- ceeding, published a proclama- tion, commanding all her subjects to attend mass. Many pious mi- nisters refused to obey the royal proclamation, and none was more forward in doing so than Mr. Saun- ders. He continued to preach whenever he had an opportunity, and read the prayer-book, with the scriptures, to the people, till he was apprehended in the following manner : Mr. Saunders was ad\ised to leave the nation, as pious Dr. Jewel and many others did ; but he would not, declaring to his friends, that he was willing to die for the name of the Lord Jesus, Accordingly, he left his people in Leicestershire, and travelled to- wards London, on his arrival near which, he was met by sir John Mordant, a privy counsellor to qu'jen Mary, who asked him where he was going ? Mr. Saunders said, to his living in Bread-street, to instruct his people. Mordant de- sired him not to go : to which Mr. Saunders answered, " How shall I then be accountable to God ? If any be sick and die before con- solation, then what a load of guilt will be upon ray conscience, as an unfaithful shepherd, an unjust steward !" Mordant asked him whether he did not frequently preach in Bread- street; and being answered in the affirmative, he endeavoured to dis- suade him from doing so any more. Saunders, however, was resolute, and told him he would continue to preach as long as he lived, and invited the other to come and hear him the next day ; adding, that he would confirm him in the truth of those sentiments which he taught. Upon this they parted, and Mor- dant went and gave information to bishop Bonner, that Saunders would preach in his church the next Sunday. In the mean time Saunders went to his lodgings, with a mind resolv- ed to do his duty ; when a person came to visit him, and took notice to him that he seemed to be in trou- ble. He said he was ; adding, " I am, as it were, in prison, till I speak to my people." So earnest was his desire to discharge his duty, and so little did he regard the malice of his enemies. The next Sunday he preached in his church, and made a most elabo- rate discourse against the errors of popery ; he exhorted the peo- ple to remain steadfast in the truth ; not to fear those who can only kill the body, but to fear Him who can throw both body and soul into hell. He was attended by a great concourse of people, which gave much ottence to the clergy, particularly to bishop Bonner. No notice, however, v/as taken of him in the forenoon, but in the afternoon, when he intended to have preached again, Bonner sent an oliicer to apprehend him ; ac- cordingly, he went with the olKcer, and sir John Mordant appeared to give evidence against him. It was certainly unbecoming the character of a gentleman of rank, thus to become a common informer ; but bigotry so infatuates the minds of its votaries, that they forget eveiy other consideration in order to gratify their hatred against those who differ from them in 390 BOOK OF MARTYRS. op!n$oi>> P«r1Iopa, however, str John migli'tbe actuated by ivorWly motives ; and, by thas ingratiating; himself with the bishop, who then enjoyed great power, he might hope to obtain the favour of the queen. Mr. Saunders was charged with treason and sedition, for having disobeyed the queen's proclama- tion ; bat Bonner had other ob- jects in view than that of bringing this man to a trial at common law. Heresy was the main charge he wished to punish him on. After much conversation on dif- ferent points of religion, the bi- shop desired him to write his sen- timents concerning transubstantia- tion. To this request Mr. Saun- ders replied, " My lord, I know yoa waat to ensnare me j yon seek for my blood, and you shall have it. Perhaps the reflection of tak- ing my life without cause may bring you to a sense of guilt, and make you a better man." The bishop, on this, sent Mr. Saunders, under the care of sir John Mordant, to the house of the chancellor, who happened not to be at home ; so that he was obliged to wait for him four hours in the servants' hall. During the whole of this time, Mr. Saund&rs stood bareheaded, while Mordant kept walking backwards and forwards across the room. At length the chancellor arrived, and sending for Mr. Saunders into his chamber, asked him how he eould be so bold as to disobey the queen's proclamation. Saunders acknowledged that " he had preached contrary to the procla- mation, and that he thought it his duty to do so, even although it should cost him his life. He added, that what he did arose from the dictates of his heart, which commanded him to preach the gospel, in season and out of season ; and that he must be ac- countable at the judgment seat of Christ, if he neglected any part of his duty in teaching and comfort- ing his people in their most holy faith, so as to meet them on the right hand of the jxjdge." The cbanoelior poured out much abuse on Mr. Saunders, telling him he was a hypocrite and a he- retic, notwithstanding all his pre- tensions to a tender conscience. He accused him, farther, of having called the queen a bastard, or ra- ther worse, namely, that she had been born in a state of incest. It was well known that Henry's marriage with Catherine had beea declared inconsistent with the canons of tbe church ; and, there- fore, had Mr. Saunders called her by such names, he might, accord- ing to law, have sheltered himself under an act of parliament. But the truth is, he never traduced her character ; but in speaking to Gar- diner he made use of a most severe earcasm, by telliug him that "there need not to be much dispute con- cerning this matter with his lord- ship, who had actually signetl the declaration concerning the illegiti- macy of Mary's birth." This was bringing the argument home to him ; but the severity of the satire augmented Gardiner's desire of revenge. Saunders told the chancellor, "he had no objection to suffer for that God who had given him cou- rage to declare his sentiments without fear, and would support him under all sorts of afflictions ; and although he would never give intentional offence, yet he would not, by any means, injure his con- science, by giving up the truth as it was revealed in the word of God." Gardiner, upon this, remanded Mr. Saunders to prison; but first told him he was out of his mind, and a disturbed madman, without the use of sense or reason. Saunders continued in prison a year and three months, during which time he wrote several let>- ters to those great and worthy per- sons, who afterwards suffered for the truth. As this pious minister saw no hopes of being released from pri- son, he drew up a paper which he sent to the cliancellor, in which he stated, " that^he did not believe he had transgressed against the REV. LA.U.RENCE SAUNDERS. 391 pyocIamaUon, for it did not oora- mand ministers to preach ag^ainst the dictates of their consciences. " As for his religion," he said, " it was the same as that taught in the New Testament. He wor- shipped the God of his fathers, after the manner they called he- resy : that it was an easy matter to call people heretics, and to proceed ag^aiust them by the assistance of the civil power ; but the best way was to attempt, and, if possible, to confute, their notions by solid ar- f^ument." . His next observations were of a very striking nature. He de- clared, that no man could be a faithful servant of Christ, who acknowledged the papal suprem- acy. He observed that traditions were not commanded by the word of God, nor did they make any part of religion. Such sentiments as these did honour to the man who employed them, but they availed liira nothing ; Gardiner bad been stung to the quick by the sarcasm of Saunders, and medi- tated a severe revenge. Saunders was a married man, and in a letter to his wife, he de- clared his firm attachment to the truth of the gospel, according to the reformed religion, as it had been set forth in the reign of king Edward VI. The sentiments in this letter are truly evangelical, and such as would have done ho- nour to one of the primitive mar- tyrs. He told her, there could be no confidence in the Divine Being, where a fixed faith was not placed in the righteousness of the Re- deemer. He added further, that she must not consider him any loiiger as a husband for her in this world, but that he hoped to spend an eternity with her. He told her, that if she should be mo- lested for the truth, that it was her duty to examine her own mind, and attend to every thing that could lead her to happiness. That the blessings of the everlasting covenant could only be insured to believers in consequence of the death of Christ, and thrA flie firm persuasion of the resurrection of our Redeemer, was the means contrived by infinite Wisdom in order to bring us to a state of hap- piness. In one of his letters to Cranmer, who was then a prisoner as well as himself, he expresses a firm belief of the immortality of the soul and the resurrection of the dead, according to the gospel dis- pensation. At file same time, he laments that darkness which the corruption of human nature has thrown over our understandings'^: that " a* we see here but through a glass darkly, so our faith should increase in strength, in consequence of a longing desire for immortality." He added much concerning the vast importance of the ministerial office, and " the necessity for mi- nisters to keep themselves from giving off'ence, lest the gospel should be blamed." In another letter, to his wife, he said much concerning that long friendship and happiness which he had enjoyed with her. He ex- pressed his earnest desire still to have enjoyed her company, had it been consistent with the will of God. But as he knew his death was resolved on, he begged she would pray that God would enable her to bear with such an event, and that he might likewise be en- abled to go through with it as be- came a good soldier of Christ Jesus. He gave her the utmost encouragement to trust in the merits and mercies of the Redeemer; to make him her only friend, and then he would never leave her nor forsake her. In a second letter to his wife, he reminds her of those consolations v/hich God gives to such as suffer for his name's sake. He tells her that the whole of human life is one continual trial of our patience and faith ; and therefore, when we are just going to take possession of a glorious and eternal inheritance, we should not repine at a few tor- ments ; and what are these tor- ments, inflicted by wien«iid men, dos BOOK OF MARTYRS. •when coiflpared Wifti the dreadful punishments which God will in- flict on apostates hereafter ? He was confined in the Marshal- sea prison, and strict orders were given to the keepers, not to suffer any person to converse with him. His wife, however, came to the prison with her young child in her arms, and the keeper had so much compassion, that he took the child and carried it to its father. Mr. Saunders seeing the child, rejoiced greatly, saying, it was a peculiar happiness for him to have such a boy. And to the standers- by, who admired the beauty of the child, he said, " What man, fear- ing God, would not lose his life, sooner than have it said that the mother of this child was an har- lot?" He said these words, in order to point out the woful effects of popish celibacy ; for the priests being denied the privilege of mar- riage, seduced the wives and daughters of many of the laity, and filled the nation with bastards, who were left exposed to all sorts of hardships. After all these afflictions and sufferings, Mr. Saunders was brought before the council, where the chancellor sat as president ; and there he was asked a great number of questions concerning his opinions. These questions were proposed in so artful and ensnar- ing a manner, that the prisoner, by telling the truth, must crimi- nate himself; and to have stood mute would havo subjected him to the torture. Under such circumstances God gave him fortitude to assert the truth, by declaring his abhorrence «f all the doctrines of popery. The examination being ended, the officers led him out of the place, and then waited till some other prisoners were examined. While Mr. Saunders was standing among the officers, seeing a great number of people assembled, as is common on such occasions, he exhorted them to beware of falling ,off from Christ to Anti- Christ, as many were tl»€tt re1.arnir>g to po- pery, because they had not forti- tude to suffer. The chancellor ordered him to be excommunicated, and commit- ted him to the Compter. This was a great comfort to him, because he was visited by many of his people, whom he exhorted to constancy; and when they were denied ad- mittance, he spoke to them through the grate. On the 4th of February the she- riff of London delivered him to the bishop, who degraded him; and Mr. Saunders said, " Thank God, I am now out of your church." The day following he was given up to some of the queen's officers, who were appointed to convey him down to Coventry, there to be burned. The first night they lay at St. Alban's, where Mr. Saun- ders took an opportunity of rebuk- ing a person who had ridiculed the Christian faith. After they arrived at Coventry, a poor shoemaker, who had for- merly worked for Mr. Saunders, came to him, and said, " O, my good master, may God strengthen you." " Good shoemaker," an- swered Mr. Saunders, " I beg you will pray for me, for I am at pre- sent in a very weak condition; but I hope my gracious God, who hath appointed me to it, will give me strength." The same night he spent in the common prison, praying for, and exhorting all those who went to hear him. The next day, which was the 8th of February, he was led to the place of execution, in the Park without the gate of that city, going in an old gown and a shirt, bare- footed, and often fell on the ground and prayed. When he approached the place of execution, the under-sheriff told him he was an heretic, and that he had led the people away from the true reli- gion; but yet, if he would recant, the queen would pardon him. To this Mr. Saunders answered, " That he had not filled the realm witli heresy, for he had taught th& BISHOP HOOPER. 393 people the pure truths of tlie gos- pel; and in all his sermons, while he exhorted the people firmly, de- sired his hearers to be obedient to the queen." When brought to the stake he embraced it, and after being; fas- tened to it, and the fag;ots lighted, he said, *' Welcome the cross of Christ, welcome everlasting life;" soon after which he resigned his soul into the hands of him who gave it. Well might the apostle say, that if we only in this life have hope, we are, of all men, the most mi- serable. This martyr was natu- rally of a timid disposition; and yet here we see with what con- stancy he died. This is a strong proof that there must be an al- mighty power, working through faith in the hearts of those who are punished for the truth. Mr. Saunders often told his friends, that many would suffer if ever Mary ascended the throne. He knew the temper of that prin- cess, and had reason to expect per- secution under her influence. It is for the benefit of succeeding ages, that God gives strength to the heart of man to suffer. It is to promote many valuable purposes, by teaching us to set a proper va- lue on the many national bless- ings we enjoy in the present age ; and in return for so many mercies. we ought to live in tlie practice of every virtuous and religious duty ; and to bless the Almighty for hav- ing delivered us from a worse than Egyptian darkness ; for po- pery, both in its spirit and ten- dency, can be properly considered as no other. But, alas! instead of tiiis, how opposite is our conduct! How justly may God be provoked by the wickedness of this genera- tion, to sulVcr the enemy to sow tares among our wheat ! To what other cause can we as- cribe the increase of popery, of late years, which has not been confined to the capital, but has even extended to the remotest parts of the kingdom. In Scot- land, where, fifty years ago, there was scarcely a papist, there arc now many thousands. We must impute much of this io our own remissness in our duty. The popish priests use all the means they can devise to seduce our people; why should not we be as vigilant in preserving our flocks from these wolves in sheep's clothing? Let us take an exatuple from the pious martyr whose suf- ferings we have just related, whose life was a comment on his doctrine, and who lived as he preached. This will do more to- wards suppressing popery and in- fidelity, than the best arguments that can be framed. SECTION II. SUFFERINGS AND MARTYRDOM OF BISHOP HOOPER. We have seen, in our account of the pious Mr. Saunders, that a man by nature weak and timorous, could bear, with an undaunted boldness, all those torments which were prepared for him by his ene- mies, and by the enemies of Christ Jesus; and we have seen that gracious Being, for whose name's sake he sufiered, support- ing him under all his afflictions. We shall now bring forth ano- ther martyr, whose name will ever be esteemed for his sincere attach- ment to the protestant religion, and for the little regfard h« paid to ceremonies, about which there has been much unnecessary, and in- deed angry contention. The person to whom we allude was Dr. John Hooper, a man of eminence in his profession. He was educated in Oxford, but in what college does not appear; probably it was in Queen's college, because he was a north country- man, that seminary of learning being appropriated for those of the northern counties. He made a great progress in his studies, and was remarkable for early pietv. He studied the sacred 394 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Scriptures ivlth th€ n>ost unremit- ting assiduity, and was. for some time, an ornaroeut to the univer- sity. ' His spirit was fervent, and he hated every thing in religion that was not of an essential nature. When the six articles were pub- lished. Hooper did all he could to oppose them, as maintaining every thing in the popish system, except the supremacy. He preached frequently against them, which created him many enemies in Ox- ford; but Henry VIII. had such an opinion of him, that he would not suffer him to be molested. Soon after this he was obliged to leave the university, and assuming a lay character, became steward to sir Thomas Arundel, who, at first, treated him with great kind- ness, till, having discovered his sentiments as to religion, he be- came his most implacable enemy. Mr. Hooper having received in- telligence that some mischief was intended against him, left the house of sir Thomas Arundel, and borrowing a horse from a friend, whose life he had saved, rode off towards the sea-side, intending to go to France, sending back the horse by a servant. He resided some time at Paris, in as private a manner as possible. Returning again to England he was informed against, and obliged to leave his native country a second time. He went over again to France, but not being safe there, he travel- led into Germany: from thence he went to Basil, where he married a pious woman, and afterwards set- tled some time at Zurich, in Switz- erland : there he applied closely to his studies, and made himself mas- ter of the Hebrew language. At length, when the true religion was set up after the death of king Henry V III. amongst other Eng- lish exiles that returned was Mr. Hooper. In the most grateful manner he returned thanks to all his friends abroad, who had shewn him so much compassion ; parti- cularly to the learned Bullinger, who was a great friend to all thos« who were pcrseouted for the gos- pel. When he took an affection- ate leave of Bullinger, he told him that he would write to him as often as he could find an opportunity, but added, " probably I shall be burned to ashes, and then some friend will give you information." Another circumstance should not be omitted in this place, and that is, that when he was appointed bi- shop of G-loucester and Worcester, the herald, who emblazoned his arms, put the figure of a lamb in a fiery-bush, with the rays of glory descending from heaven on the lamb, which had such an effect on Dr. Hooper, that he said he knew he should die for the truth ; and this consideration inspired him with courage. But to return to our narrative. When Dr. Hooper arrived in London, he was so much filled with zeal to promote the gospel, that he preached every day to crowded congregations. In his sermons he reproved sinners in general, but particularly directed his discourse against the peculiar vices of the times. The abuses he complained of were owing to a variety of causes : the nobility had got the church lands, and the clergy were not only seditious in their conduct, but ignorant even to a proverb. This occasioned a scene of general immorality among all ranks and degrees of people, which furnished pious men with sufiRcient matter for reproof. In his doctrine. Hooper was clear, plain, eloquent, and persua- sive, and so much followed by all ranks of people, that the churches could not contain them. Although no man could labour more indefatigably in the Lord's vineyard, yet Hooper had a most excellent constitution, which he supported by temperance, and was therefore enabled to do much good. In the whole of his conversation with those who waited on him in private, he spoke of the purity of the gospel, and of the great things of God, cautioning the people BISHOP HOOPER. 395 against icturniij^ to pope-ry, if any change in the government should take place. 'I'his was the more necessary, as the people in gene- ral were but ill grounded, though Cranmer, Ridley, and many other pious men were using every means in their power to make them ac- quainted with the principles of the christian religion. In this pious undertaking, no one was more forward than Dr. Hooper; at all limes, "in season, and out of sea- son," he was ready to discharge his duty as a faithful minister of the gospel. After he had preached some time, with great success, in the city, he was sent for by Edward VI. who appointed him one of his chaplains, and soon after made him bishop of Gloucester, by let- ters-pat»nt under the great seal; having at the same time the care of the bishopric of Worcester com- mitted to him. As Dr. Hooper had been some time abroad, he had contracted an aversion to the popish ceremonies, and before he went to his bishop- ric, he requested of the king that he might not be obliged to ^give countenance to them, which re- quest the monarch complied with, though much against the inclina- tions of the other bishops. Dr. Hooper and his brethren of the reformed church had many dis- putes about the Romish tenets, which shews that there are some remains of corruption in the best of men. Some persons seek ho- nours with unwearied zeal, and seem to take more pleasure in titles, than in considering that an elevated rank only increases the necessity of being more observant of our duty. Dr. Hooper diiTered from these men, for instead of seeking pre- ferments, he would never have accepted of any, had they not been pressed on him. Having the care of two dioceses, he held and guided thera both together, as if they had been but one. His lei- sure i;ime, which was but little, he spent in hearing cansea, in private prayer, and reading the scriptures. He likcv.ise visited the schools, and encouraged youth in the pur- suit of learning. He had children of his own, whom he likewise in- structed, and treated them with all the tenderness of a good pa- rent, but without the indulgence of a weak one. He kept open house, with pro- visions for the poor, which was a very pious and necessary action in those times, because many per- sons who had been driven out of the convents roved up and down the country starving. He relieved a certain number of these every day, and when they had satisfied tiieir hunger he delivered a dis- course to them on the principles of the christian religion. After this manner, bishop Hooper continued to discharge his duty as a faithful pastor, during the whole of king Edward's reign. But no sooner was Mary proclaimed, than a Serjeant at arms was sent to arrest our bishop, in order to an- swer to two charges : First, to Dr. Heath, who had been deprived of the diocese of Gloucester for his adherence to popery, but was now restored by the queen : secondly, to Dr. Bon- ner, bishop of London, for having given evidence to king Edward against that persecuting prelate. Bishop Hooper was desired, by some of his friends, to make his escape, but his answer was, " I once fled for my life, but I am now determined, through the strength and grace of God, to witness the truth to the last." Being brought before the queen and council, Gardiner, sitting as president, accused bishop Hooper of heresy, calling him by the most opprobrious names. This was in September, 1553, and although he satisfactorily answered the charges brought against him, he was com- mitted to prison on the pretence of being indebted to the queen in several sums of money. On the 19th of March, 1654, when he was called again to appear before Gar- diner, the chancellor, and several 396 BOOK OF MARTYRS. other bishops, would not suffer liim him to plead his cause, but deprived him of his bishopric. Being asked whether he was a married man, he answered in the affirmative, and declared that he would not be unmarried, till death occasioned the separation ; because he looked upon the marriage of the clergy as necessary, and legal. The more they attempted to brow-beat him, the more resolute he became, and the more pertinent in his answers. He produced the decrees of the council of Nice, which first ascertained the canon of scripture, where it was ordained to be lawful, as well as expedient, for the clergy to marry. These argu- ments were, to little purpose with men who had their instructions from the queen, and were previously de- tennined to punish him ; the good bishop was therefore committed to the Tower, but afterwards removed to the Fleet. As the determination for burning him was not agreed on, he was only considered as a debtor to the queen, for the rents of his bishopric, which was the reason of his being sent to the Fleet. This, however, was a most unjust charge ; for the pro- testant religion had been establish- ed in the first year of the reign of her brother Edward, by act of par- liament; so that Dr. Hooper's ac- ceptance of a bishopric was in all respects legal and constitu- tional. As a debtor, he was to have the rules of ihe Fleet, which the warden granted him for five pounds ster- ling ; but went immediately and in- formed Gardiner, who, notwith- standing he had paid the money, ordered him to be closely con- fined. The following account of his cruel treatment while confined here, was written by himself, and affords a pic- ture of popish barbarity, which can- not fail to make a due impression on our readers. " The first of September 1553, I was committed unto the Fleet, from Richmond, to have the liberty of the prison ; and within six days after I paid five pounds sterling to the warden for fees, for my li- berty ; who immediately upon pay- ment thereof complained unto the bishop of Winchester, upon which I was committed to close prison one quarter of a year in the Tower-chamber of the Fleet, and used extremely ill. Then by the means of a good gentlewoman, I had liberty to come down to dinner and supper, not sufi"ered to speak with any of my friends ; but as soon as dinner and supper was done, to repair to my chamber again. Not- withstanding, whilst I came down thus to dinner and supper, the war- den and his wife picked quarrels with me, and complained untruly of me to their great friend the bishop of Winchester. " After one quarter of a year, Babington the warden, and his wife, fell out with me, respecting the wicked mass : and thereupon the warden resorted to the bishop of Winchester, and obtained to put me into the wards, where I have continued a long time, having no- thing appointed to me for my bed, but a little pad of straw and a rot- ten covering, with a tick and a Tew feathers therein, the chamber being vile and stinking, until by God's means good people sent me bedding to lie on. On one side of the pri- son, is the sink and filth of the house, and on the other the town ditch, so that the stench of the house hath infected me with sundry dis- eases. " During which time I have been sick, and the doors, bars, hasps, and chains being all closed upon me, I have mourned, called and cried for help; but the warden,when he hath known me many times ready to die, and when the poor men of the wards have called to help me, hath commanded the doors to be kept fast, and charged that none of his men should come at me, saying, ' Let him alone, it were a good rid- dance of him.' " I paid always like a baron to the said warden, as well in fees, as for my board, which Avas twenty shillings a week, besides my man's mSHOP HOOPER. 397 table, until I was wrongfully de- prived of my bishoprics, and since that time, I have paid him as the best gentleman doth in his house ; yet hath he used me worse, and more vilely, than the veriest slave that ever came to the common side of the prison. " The warden hath also impri- soned my man, William Downton, and stri])ped him out of his clothes to search for letters, and could find none, but a little remembrance of good people's names who had j^iven uie their alms to relieve me in pri- son ; and to undo them also, the warden delivered the same bill un- to the said Stephen Gardiner, God's enemy and mine. " I have suffered imprisonment almost eighteen months, my goods, livings, friends, and comfort taken from me ; the queen owing me, by just account, fourscore pounds or more. She hath put me in prison, and giveth nothing to keep me, nei- ther is there sulfered anj"^ one to come at me, whereby I might have relief. I am with a wicked man and woman, so that I see no reme- dy (saving God's help) but I shall be cast away in prison before I come to judgment. But I commit my just cause to God, whose will be done, whether it be by life or death." After he had been eighteen months in prison, on the 22d of Ja- nuary, 1555, the warden of the Fleet was ordered to bring him before the chancellor Gardiner, who, with other bishops, were appointed to examine him a second time, at Gardiner's palace in Southwark. When brought before these mer- ciless persecutors, the chancellor made a long speech to him, desir- ing him to forsake the opinions he had embraced, and return to the bosom of the church ; adding, that as the pope was the head of the church, so it was breaking through her unity to separate from her. He promised to procure him the pope's absolution if he would recant his opinions ; but this was merely an ostentatious pretence to mercy ; for Gardiner knew, that Hooper was too well g-rounded in his religious opinions, to comply with his re- quest. To this Dr. Hooper answered, that as the pope's doctrine Avas contrary to the sacred scriptures, and as he could not be the head of the church, because there was no head of it but Clirist, so he would live and die asserting the doctrines he had taught. Gardiner replied, that the queen would never shew any mercy to the enemies of the pope ; where- upon Babington, the warden, was commanded to take him back to the Fleet. It was likewise or- dered, that he should be shift- ed from his former chamber, which w?.s done ; and he was searched, to find, if possible, whether he had any books con- cealed about him, but none were found. On the '25th of January he was again brought before the chancel- lor to be examined, and was again asked whether or not he would recant ; but nothing could shake his constancy. On Monday morning, February 4, the bishop of London went to the prison to degrade him, which was done in the usual form, by putting the different robes upon him worn by priests, and then taking them off. They did not put on him the bishop's robes, because they did not admit of the validity of his ordination. While they were stripping him of these Romish rags, he told them he "was glad to part with them, because his mind had been always against them, and considered them as no better than heathenish relics ; as in fact they were, for the same kind of robes were worn by the priests before the time of Constan- tine the Great. A few hours after he was degrad- ed, the keeper came to him and told him,he was to be sent down to Glou- cester to suffer death. Upon this he lifted up his eyes and hands to heaven, praising God that he was to die among his people, as it would be the means of confirming them in the truth of what he had 3DS BOOK OF MARTYRS. taught them. He intuicdiately sent to his servant for his boots and cloak, that h» miglit be in readiness to attend the officers whenever they should come for him. About four in the morning he was taken out of prison by the sherilF, and conducted to the sign of the Angel, near St. Dunstan's chuich, Fleet-street. There he was re- ceived by the queen's officers, who had the warrant for his execution ; after which they permitted him to take some refreshment. About break of day he cheerfully mounted on horseback without help, having a hood on his head under his hat, that he should not be known; and thus equipped, with a serene and cheerful countenance, proceeded on the road for Glou- cester, attended by his keepers. The guards asked him what houses he was accustomed to use on the road ; and when they were In- formed, in order to perplex him, they took him to others. On the Thursday following they arrived at Cirencester, a town in his own diocese, and about eleven eailes from Gloucester, where they dined at the house of a woman who had always hated the protestants, and traduced bishop Hooper's cha- racter as much as possible. This woman, seeing his constancy, was so affected, that she lamented his case with tears, and begged his pardon for the manner in which she had spoken of him. Dinner being over, they pro- ceeded to Gloucester, where they arrived about five in the afternoon. A great crowd of people v/ere as- sembled about a mile without the town; so that one of the guard, fearing a rescue, rode up to the mayor's house, to demand aid and assistance. This being granted, the people dispersed. Hooper was that night lodged in the house of one Ingram, where he ate his supper with a good appetite, and slept very quietly, as the guard declared, for they continued in the chamber with him all the night. In the morning he got up, and having prayed most fervently, was visited by sir Anthony Kingston, who was one of the persons appointed to see him executed. When sir Anthony came into the chamber he found him at his prayers, and waiting till he had done, asked if he did not know him. To this bishop Hooper answered, that he did know him, and was glad to see him in good health. He added, that he was come there to end his life, and blessed God that it was to be in the midst of his own diocese. He said he loved life as well as it ought to be loved, but he was not to enjoy it at the expence of his future wel- fare. He was not to blaspheme his Saviour by denying his name, through which alone he looked for salvation ; but trusted that he should be endowed with fortitude sufficient to bear all the torments his enemies could inflict upon him. Sir Anthony Kingston had pro- fited much from the preaching of bi- shop Hooper, and taking his leave, told him, with tears, that he was extremely sorry to lose so worthy a person. Dr. Hooper answered, that it was his duty to persevere in the truth, and not to be ashamed of the gospel, lest Christ should refuse to acknowledge him before his Father in heaven. The same day, in the afternoon, a poor blind boy came to visit bi- shop Hooper, and falling on his knees before him, said, "Ah, my lord, I am blind in my eyes, but your pious instructions have re- moved a spiritual blindness from my heart. May God support j^ou under all your sufferings, and bring you, even through flames, to hea- ven '." Several other persons visited the bishop, amongst whom was a very wicked man, a bigoted papist, who had known him formerly. This man upbraided him with what he called his heresy; but Hooper bore all his insults with patience and meekness. The time appointed for the exe- cution of this pious bishop drawing nigh, he was delivered to the she- riffs of Gloucester, who, with the mayor and aldermen, repaired to BISHOP BOOPER. 399 his lodging^s, and at the first meet- ing, having saluted him, took him by the hand. The resigned martyr thanked the mayor, with the rest of the officers, for taking a condemned man by the hand, and for all the friendship that had formerly sub- sisted between them, for he had long been acquainted with them. He begged of the sheriifs that they would make the fire as violent as possible, that his pains might be of the shorter duration ; adding, that he might have had his life if he chose it, but could not, consistently with that duty he owed to God, and his own conscience. He said, he knew the bishop of Rome was Anti- christ, and therefore he could not be obedient to him. He desired they would not deny his request, but let him suffer as soon as pos- sible, without exercising any un- necessary cruelty, which was un- becoming the dignity of men of honour. A consultation was held by the sheriffs, whether or not they should lodge him, the evening before his execution, in the common gaol over the north gate of the city ; but the guards who had brought him from London, interceded so earnestly in his favour, that he was permitted to remain in his former lodgings ; and he spent the evening in prayer, together with as much of the night as he could spare from his ordinary rest. The believer, who is to rest in Christ Jesus throughout the endless ages of eternity, may well enjoy an hour's sleep, before the commencement of even the most excruciating tortures. When bishop Hooper arose in the morning, he desired that no person whatever should disturb him in his devotions, till the officers came to lead him out to execution. About eight o'clock, the lord Chandois, attended by several other noblemen and gentlemen, came to conduct him to the place of execution ; and at nine Dr. Hooper was ready. Being brought down from his chamber, when he saw the guards, he told the sheriffs he was no traitor, but one who was 3 willing to die for tiie truth ; and that if they would have permitted him, he would have willingly gone unguarded to the stake, without troubling any officers. Afterwards, looking upon the multitude of peo- ple that were assembled, above seven thousand in number, he said, "Alas! why are so many people assembled? I dare not speak to them as formerly." He was led forward between the two skerifi's, as a lamb to the slaughter, having on a gown which the man of the house, where he was confined, had lent him; and being much afflicted with an illness he had contracted in prison, he was obliged to walk with a staff in his hand. The sheriffs having commanded him not to speak one word, he was not seen to open hi* mouth, but beholding the people, who mourned bitterly, he some- times lifted up his eyes towards heaven, and looked cheerfully upon such as he knew ; and, indeed, his countenance was more cheerful than it had been for a long time before. When he was brought to the stake, he embraced it, and looked smilingly at a place where he used formerly to preach. He then kneeled down to pray, and beck- oned several times to one whom he knew well, to come near to hear him, that he might give a faithful account of what he said, after his death, as he was not permitted to speak aloud. When he had been some time at prayer, a pardon was brought, and offered to him, on condition that he would recant; but neither promises of pardon, nor threatenings of punishment, had any effect on him ; so immov- able was he in the faith, and so well established in the principles of the gospel. Prayers being ended, he pre- pared himself for the stake, by taking off his landlord's gown, which he delivered to the sheriffs, requesting them to see it restored to the owner. He then took off the rest of his clothes, except his doublet and hose, in which he in- 400 BOOK OF MARTYRS. tended to bo burned; but the she- rill's not permitting that, he pa- tiently submitted. Alter this, a pound ol" gunpowder was placed between his legs, and the same quantity under each arm ; three chains were then lixed round him, one to his neck, another to his middle, and a third to his legs; and with these he Mas fastened to the stake. This being done, fire was put to the fagots; but they being green, he suliered inexpressible torment. Soon after this, a load of dry fa- gots was brought, but still the wind blew away the flames; so that he begged fbr more, that he might be put out of his misery. At length the fire took efiect, and the martyr triumphantly as- cended into heaven, after such a fiery trial as almost exceeds any thing we meet with in the primi- tive ages. His last words were, " Lord Jesus have mercy upon me ; enable me to bear my sutt'er- ings for thy name's sake, and re- ceive my spirit." Such was the end of one of the most eminent fathers of the church of England ; and surely that reli- gion which could support him un- der such dreadful tortures must be of God. Fanaticism and supersti- tion may give resolution; but it is only the divine influence of pure religion which can bestow calm- ness in the hour of death. SECTION III. SUFFERINGS AND MARTYRDOM OF DR. ROWLAND TAYLOR. Dr. Rowland Taylor was born in the town of Hadleigh, in Suf- folk, which was one of the first places in England that received the gospel; and here he preached constantly during the reign of king Edward. Archbishop Cranmer, who was a good judge of merit, and loved to reward it in learned men, took him into his family, and presented him to the living of Had- leigh. Here he proved himself a most excellent preacher and a faith- ful pastor. He made himself ac- quainted with every individual in his parish; he taught them like the apostles and primitive Chris- tians, who went from house to house, The love of Christ wrought so strongly on his mind, that every Sunday and holiday, he preached in the most fervent manner to his people. Nor did he restrict himself to preaching : his life was one conti- nued comment on his doctrine: it was a life of holiness: he studied nothing so much as to do good; was a stranger to pride ; and was clothed with humility. He was particularly attentive to the poor, and his charity was bounded only by his ability. While he rebuked sinners for their enormities, he was ready to relieve their want*. This was a godlike disposition, and the characteristic of a true Christian. In the course of his ministerial labours he often met with opposi- tion, and even with abuse ; but he attended to the maxim laid down by the apostle, that we must go through evil, as well as through good report. He was a married man, but never sat down to dinner with his family, without first in- quiring whether the poor wanted any tiling. To those who were distressed, he gave relief before he ate any thing himself. He fa- miliarized himself with all ranks of men, in order that he might win them to the knowledge and prac- tice of the truth. He was an in- dulgent, tender, ali'ectionate hus- band, and brought up his children in the fear of God, well know- ing, that to lay a good foundation is the only way to secure a beau- tiful superstructure. In this excellent manner, Dr. Taylor continued to discharge his duty at Hadleigh, as long as king Edward lived; but no sooner was that pious monarch dead, than af- fairs took a ditterent turn. And here we may observe, that DR. ROWLAND TAYLOR. 401 if a man be ever so pious; if he be ever so faithful in the discharge of his duty, yet he will meet with many enemies : this was the case with Dr. Taylor. In his parish, notwithstanding all his endeavours to suppress popery, yet some pa- pists remained ; and their hatred of his doctrine was extended to the preacher, and rendered them blind to his excellencies. Two of these persons, named Clarke and Foster, hired a Rom- ish priest to come to Hadloigh to say mass. For this purpose, they ordered an altar to be built with all convenient speed, and appoint- ed that mass should be said on Palm Sunday. But the reformers met together in the evening, and pulled down the altar ; it was, how- ever, built up again, and a watch was appointed, lest it should be de- molished a second time. A Gentieman of Bohemui inhumanly murdered by a band of Popish liuffians, for having assisted the persecuted Protestants of that Country, The day following, Clarke and Foster came, bringing along with them their popish priest, who was to perform the service of mass. The priest was dressed in his robes for the occasion, and had a guard with him, lest he should be inter- rupted by the populace. When Dr. Taylor heard the bells ring, he went into the church to know the reason, but found the doors of the chancel barred against him. However, getting within the chancel, he saw the popish priest FOX'S MARTYRS. at the altar, attended by a great number of people, with their swords drawn. The doctor ac- cused the priest of idolatry, but the priest retorted upon him, and called him traitor, for disobeying the queen's proclamation. Dr, Taylor said he was no traitor, but a minister of the gospel, command- ed to teach the people; and then ordered the popish priest to retire, as one who came in there to poison the Hock of Christ with his most abominable doctrines. Foster, 26 402 -BOOK OF MARTYRS. who was principally concerned in this affair, called Dr. Taylor a traitor, and violently dragged him out of the church ; while his wife, on her knees, begged that God would vindicate his innocence, and avenge the injuries so wrongfully inflicted on him. Foster and Clarke next exhibit- ed a charge of heresy against Dr. Taylor, to the chancellor Gardiner, who sent a messenger, command- ing Dr. Taylor to appear before him, in order to answer to the charge. When Dr. Taylor's friends heard of this they were much grieved, and fearing what would be the re- sult, as justice was not to be ex- pected from the furious bigots then in power, advised him to go abroad to save his life. But this he would by no means comply with ; saying that it was more honourable to suffer for the cause of God, than to flee from the wrath of wicked men. " God," said he, " will either protect me from sufferings, or he will enable me to bear them." He added, " That he knew his dying fear the truth would be of more service to the cause of Christ, than his flying away from the ma- lice of his persecutors." When his friends saw that no- thing could prevail upon him, they took leave of him with tears ; after which he set out for London, ac- companied by a servant, named John Hull, who had been a consi- derable time in his family. This faithful servant advised him to make his escape, but to no purpose ; for Taylor said, that the good shepherd should never leave his sheep, till he was torn from them by force. In the same heavenly manner he exhorted John to be constant in the profession of Christianity, and not to return to popery. He said, that worldly wisdom was apt to take too deep a root in our hearts, and that it was, therefore, our duty to do all we could to triumph over the world, the flesh, and the devil; to be consist- ent in our attachment to the truth ; to keep in view the glorious eter- nity provided for the faithful ; to despise earthly enjoyments, while we strive to render ourselves wor- thy of heaven ; to fear God more than men ; to believe that he will sweeten all our sufferings, by the influences of his holy spirit ; to think nothing too hard to endure, in order to obtain a blessed immor- tality; and, with a Christian cou- rage, to trample on death, and triumph over the grave. When Dr. Taylor was brought before the chancellor Gardiner, that prelate reviled him in the most shocking manner, calling him a traitor and an heretic ; all which our pious martyr patiently sub- mitted to. In the opinion of Gar- diner he might have been an he- retic, but, according to law, he could not have been a traitor ; for the statute of high treason, and the statute of heresy, enforced different punishments : for treason the oHending party was to be hang- ed and quartered ; for heresy he was to be burned alive. Had queen Mary proceeded against this man, and many others, on the statute of high-treason, they must have been acquitted, as the trial would have been conducted according to the principles of common law. But this she had no intention to do ; her design was to gratify the clergy, by causing all those who opposed their sentiments, to be put to death in the most barbarous manner. Dr. Taylor answered the chan- cellor with a becoming firmness : he told him, that he was the per- secutor of God's people, and that he, himself, had adhered to our Saviour and his word : he put bi- shop Gardiner in mind of the oath he had taken in the beginning of king Edward's reign, to maintain the protestant religion, and oppose the papal supremacy ; but Gardiner answered that the oath had been extorted, so that he was not obliged to abide by it. It is certain, that every oath ex- torted by the threatening of pu- nishment, can have no moral force; and the man who has been weak enough to swear, may recede from DR. ROWLAND TAYLOR. 403 the obligatory part as soon as he has an opportunity. But this was not the case with Gardiner; had he refused the oath, all tlie punishment inflicted upon him would have been the loss of his bishopric. And surely he who pays the least regard to the sacred Name invoked to wit- ness his sincerity, will not choose to enjoy a temporal subsistence at the expense of a guilty conscience. Dr. Taylor explained to tlie bi- shop the nature of an oath, and told him, that as he had not been forced to take one contrary to the dictates of conscience, so he was either prejudiced in what he did, or, what was stiil worse, he trilled with a sacred obligation : that no man whatever could dispense with an oath, unless he knew :«t was his duty to do so, in consequence of its having been imposed on him by violence. Gardiner, who was self-convict- ed, turned the subject to the dis- puted points coucerning the real presence, and some other things in popery. With respect to the real presence in the sacrament. Dr. Taylor told him, that it had no foundation in scripture, but had been first taught about the tenth century. He quot- ed the book of Bertram, which was written about that time, wherein the real presence was denied, and transubstan-tiation considered as no better than a novel doctrine. He made it appear, that Christ only commanded his followers to keep the feast of the eucharist, in re- membrance of his last sapper with them. That as Christ broke bread, and drank wine with his disciples in a friendly manner, before he was dragged to prison, to judgment, and to execution, consequently his followers should observe it as a feast of unity to the end of the world. Such were the sentiments of this pious man, concerning a very dis- puted point. He was clear in his conceptions concerning the scrip- ture account of the last supper, f<"f all the primitive fathers have tai'ght HS to consider it in the same light. When Christ said, "This is my body," he could only mean the atonement that was to be made for sin, and surely that could not be the bread he took in his hand. The body of Christ, joined to his hu- man soul, and both united to the divine nature, are now in a state of glory in heaven ; and how then can the priest turn a morsel of bread into the body of our Divine Kedeemer? The bare thought puts common sense to the blush. It is full of absurdity, and can only im- pose on the grossest credulity, for the purpose of increasing the in- fluence of artful and designing priests. Dr. Taylor, after being interro- gated by the chancellor for a con- siderable time, was at length com- mitted to prison ; for bigotry knows no feeling ; persecution no resting-place. While he was in prison, he spent the greatest part of his time in prayer, in reading the sacred scrip- tures, and in exhorting the poor prisoners, confined with him, to a sense of their duty. This was ths more necessary, as the people at that time were extremely ignorant; light indeed was beginninsr to break in upon them, hut they knew not how to walk. The pri- son in which Dr. Taylor was con- fined, was that commonly called the King's Bench, and there he met with that holy and p/ous man Mr, Bradford, whose alfjflity in re- ligious sentiments couiributed to mitigate his sufiTeririjfi'' If two virtuous or pious p-rsons are of the same opinion and under the same circumsta«ces, they gene- rally syrapathi?^ with each other. This was thf case with Dr. Taylor and Mr. Badford ; for no sooner did they j^^eet each other in prison ; than t^^y blessed God who had broa^^tit them together, to suflFer forss, and setting up unlawful con- venticles, contrary to her majesty's command. Mr. Watts replied, with compo- sure, that if he had oflended against the law, he was subject to the penalty of the law ; upon which a justice of the peace then present inquired of him, " From whom he had imbibed his new- fangled religion ?" Watts upbraid- ed the justice with hypocrisy, re- minding him, that in the days of the late king, no one inveighed more strenuously against the Ro- mish doctrines than himself, pro- nouncing the mass to be abomi- nable, earnestly exhorting none to believe therein, and that their be- lief should be only in Christ ; nay, adding further, that whosoever should introduce any strange notion here, should be deemed a traitor, and punished as such. The justice reviled Watts as an insolent, lying knave, and per- suaded the sherift' not to pay any regard to what he had said. Soon after this, information was given to bishop Bonner, that Tho- mas Watts maintained, inculcated, and encouraged heretical opinions. In consequence of this he was brought into the consistory court in London, and there examined, concerning the discourse he had with lord Rich, and other commis- sioners, at Chelmsford, when he publicly related the truth ; after which, the following articles weje alleged against him, requiring, ac- cording to the custom of the court, a particular answer to each ar- ticle : 1. "That he did not believe in the sacraments of the holy Catho- lic church, as the Catholic church of Rome, and other churches, members of the same, have be- lieved and taught, but despised the same." To this he answered, " that he believed in all the sacraments, ac- cording to Christ's institution, but not according to the church of the bishop of Rome ; that he be- lieved according to the preaching of several ministers of the gospel, who preached the word of God truly and sincerely." 2. " That he believed, and taught others, that the substance of mate- rial bread and wine do remain in the sacrament of the altar after consecration." To this he replied, "that he be- lieved that Christ's body is now in heaven, and no where else ; and that he never would believe that Christ's body was in the sa- crament." 3. " That he believed the mass to be abominable." To this he frankly answered in the aflSrmative, declaring, that he would never recant his opinion. 4. " That he believed, that con- fession to a priest was not neces- sary." To this he said, "he did not be- lieve that the priest could absolve him of his sins ; but allowed, that it was good to ask spiritual advice of the priest." 5. " That in the open sessions, he confessed that he had refused to come to the church to hear ma-ss, and receive the sacrament of the altar ; because, according to the service of the church, set out in the days of king Edward the Sixth, such duties were deemed abomina- ble, heretical, and schismatical ; that he declared, that all that was 3 REV. JOHN BRADFORD. 435 done in the church, upon the ao- cession of her majesty, was abomi- nable, heretical, schismatical, and unsciiptural ; and also that he ut- tered, before the commissioners, other erroneous and arrogant words, to the injury of his soul., and the bad example of the peo- ple present." To this he answered, without the least attempt to evade, that *' he declared his opinion, as in the article above mentioned, and begged of God that he might live and die in that faith." These, and other articles of less moment, were read to him, and his answers minuted down ; after which the bishop used the most forcible arguments he could ad- duce to bring him to a denial of his " errors," and to be obedient to the holy mother-church. Mr. Watts, however, remaining inflexible, and praying to God that he might be enabled to hold out to the end in the true faith of Christ, sentence of condemnation was pronounced against him, and he was delivered up to the sherifls of London, who conducted him to Newgate. On the 9th of June he was car- ried from Newgate to Chelmsford, his execution being appointed at that place on the 11th. On the same evening he was conveyed there, he was in company with Thomas Hawkes, and others, and they all jo'ined together in the most fervent prayer. The day before his execution, he was visited by his wife, and six children, whom he addressed in the following manner : " My dear wife, and good chil- dren, the time of my departure is at hand, therefore, henceforth I know you no more, but as the Lord hath given you unto me, so I give you again unto the Lord, whom I charge you to obey and fear : be- ware that ye turn not to tliis abo- minable popery, as a testimony against which, I shall shortly, by God's grace, shed my blood. Let not the murdering God's saints cause you to recant, but take occa- sion thereby, more earnestly, to contend for the faith once deliver- ed to the saints. My dear chil- dren, I trust God will be a merciful father unto you." This allecting address made such an impression on two of his chil- dren, that they desired to be burn- ed with him. Their sympathy for a time discomposed our martyr, the Christian giving way to the parent ; but after having a little recovered himself, he embraced them with all the tenderness of a dying father, took his leave, and was led to the stake, where he quietly yielded op his spirit into the hands of Him who gave it, say- ing, " Into thy hands, O God, I commend my spirit." Such was the attachment of this steadfast believer to the cause of his dear Lord and Master, that the aflecting spectacle of his disconso- late wife, and six innocent babes, could not, in the least, stagger his resolution ; but he persevered in spite of all worldly considerations, being animated so to do, by an as- surance of an immortal crown of glory in his Redeemer's kingdom. CHAMBERLAIN, OSMOND, ANB BAM- FORD. About the same time that Mr. Watts suffered, three others shared the same fate, for their adherence to the truth of the gospel ; namely, Nicholas Chamberlain, weaver; Thomas Osmond, fuller; and William Bamford, weaver. The first of these was burnt at Colches- ter on the 14th of June ; the second suffered the next day at Maning- tree ; and the third the following day at Harwich. SECTION VI. martyrdom of the rev. JOHN BRADFORD, JOHN LEAFE, AND OTHERS. The first of these martyrs was ceived an education sufficiently born at Manchester, where he re- liberal to qualify him for the more 436 BOOK OF MARTYRS. exalted offices of life, having attained to a considerable know- ledge in classical and mathematical literature. On his arrival at years of matu- rity, having some distinguished friends, by their interest he be- came secretary to sir Jolin Har- rington, who was treasurer to Henry VIII. After having been in tliis oflice for some time, being of a studious turn of mind, he quitted it, and went to Cambridge, where he made such great improvements, that at the end of one year that university conferred on him the degree of master of arts; soon after which he was admitted to a fellowship in Pembroke college. At this time Martin Bucer, a zealous advocate for the reformed religion, resided at Cambridge. This person discovered a great re- gard for Mr. Bradford, and per- suaded him to follow those studies which most conduced to qualify him for the work of the ministry. Mr. Bradford having that diffi- dence which is generally the at- tendant on real merit, excused himself from assuming that import- ant office, as not being sufficiently qualified; but Bucer, at l(jngth, brought him to consent to enter on the solemn work, and he was or- dained a deacon, by Dr. Ridley, bishop of London, who afterwards made him a prebendary of St. Paul's, where, in rotation, he preached, during three years, the true gospel of Christ ; the doc- trines ot salvation by faith, and re- pentance unto life, together with the necessity of a life of holiness, as the evidence of that faith. After the accession of queen Mary, Mr. Bradford continued his course of preaching, till he was ob- structed by the following incident. In the first year of the reign of that princess, Bonner, then bishop of London, ordered Mr. Bourn, a canon of St. Paul's, and after- wards bishop of Bath, to preach a sermon, wherein he took occasion, from the gospel appointed for the service of the day, to justify Bon- ner, then restored to his bishopric, in preaching on the same text that very day four years, and enforcing doctrines, for which, according to the terms of the preacher, he was thrown into the Marshalsea, and there kept prisoner during the time of king Edward VI. These words occasioned great murmurings amongst the people, nay, so incensed were they, that one of them threw a dagger at the preacher, and tlireatened to drag him from the pulpit, insomuch that he was obliged to withdraw, and desire Mr. Bradford to advance, and endeavour to appease the peo- ple, who were so tumultuous, that they could not be quelled even by the authority of the lord-mayor. As soon as Mr. Bradford ascend- ed the pulpit, the people shouted, " God save thy life, Bradford!" and then quietly attended to his discourse, in which he reproved them for their disorderly behaviour, and exhorted them to peace and tranquillity ; on which, after he had finished, they peaceably dis- persed. In the afternoon of the same day, Mr. Bradford preached at Bow church, when he took occasion to rebuke the people for their tumul- tuous behaviour at St. Paul's in the morning. Three days after this incident, he was summoned before the queen, and her council, and there charged as the cause of the late riot about Bourn's preaching at St. Paul's, though he was the very person that preserved him from the out- rage of the people, and appeased the tumult. He was also accused for preach- ing to the people at Bow church, though he then warmly exhorted them to peace. But nothing that he could allege, in vindication of his innocence, availed, for he was committed to the Tower, on a charge of sedition, because they found he was a popular man, and greatly caressed by the people. He was confined above a year and six months, till the popish re- ligion was restored by act of par- 4 JOHN LEAFE. 4^7 liament. He then took occasion to examine himself concerning his faith, because he could not speak against the doctrine of the church of Rome, without incurring much danger; whereas, while the laws of king Edward were unrepealed, he might freely speak according to the dictates of his conscience, and the rules of God's most holy word. The principal articles alleged against Mr. Bradford were, his de- nying the doctrine of transubstan- tiation, or the corporeal presence of Christ in the sacrament, and as- serting, that wicked men did not partake of Christ's body in the said sacrament. Several bishops, and other learn- ed men, were appointed to confer with him, but their arguments had no weight with him, because they were not founded on scripture but on human tradition. As Mr. Bradford would not ad- mit of any tenets or practices, but what were contained in the reveal- ed word of God, he was deemed an heretic, first excommunicated, then condemned, and committed to the custody of the sheriffs of London, by whom he was conduct- ed, the night before his execution, to the prison of Newgate ; and the following day brought to the stake, with the martyr whose sufferings for the faith we are about to relate. JOHN LEAFE Was an apprentice to a tallow- chandler, and at the age of nine- teen years, on an information laid against him of heresy, was com- mitted to the Compter, by the al- derman of the ward in which he lived. After being some time confined in that prison, he was brought be- fore bishop Bonner, and by him examined concerning his faith in the sacrament of the altar, and other points ; to all which he an- swered in such a manner as gave little satisfaction to the tyrannical bishop. A few days after this he under- went another examination; but his answers being the same as before, he was condemned, and delivered over to the secular power, for not believing that the bread and wine in the sacrament, by the words of consecration, are changed into the very body and blood of Christ, really and substantially. After his condemnation the bi- shop sent two papers to him, the one containing a recantation, and the other liis confession. The mes- senger, after reading the former to him, (for he could neither read nor write himself) asked if he would sign it; to which, without the least hesitation, he answered in the ne- gative. He then read to him his confession, when he immediately took a pin, and pricking his hand, sprinkled the blood upon the pa- per, desiring the messenger to shew the bishop that he had al- ready signed it with his blood. When these two martyrs were conducted to the place of execu- tion; in Smithfield, Mr. Bradford fell prostrate on one side of the stake, and Leafe on the other. In this position they continued pray- ing for some minutes, till Mr. Brr*:lford was desired by the sheriff to make an end, and arise. On this they both arose, and after Mr. Bradford had made a short harangue to the people, they were both fastened to the stake, and the reeds and fagots placed round them. Being thus prepared, Mr. Brad- ford, lifting up his eyes and hands to heaven, exclaimed, " O Eng- land, England, repent thee of thy sins; beware of Anti-Christ, be- ware of idolatry ; take heed they do not deceive you." Then turn- ing to young Leafe, who was to sutler with him, he said, " Be of good comfort, brother, the time of our deliverance is at hand." The young man replied, " The Lord Jesus receive our departing spi- rits." The fire was then put to the fa- gots, and they both endured their sufferings with the utmost compo- sure and resignation, rcposiii^ an 438 BOOK OF MARTYRS. tinshakon oonftdence iu that bless- ed Redeemer, who died to save mankind. While Mr. Bradford was in pri- son, he employed his time in writ- ing various treatises, addressed to the advocates of the reformation. He also wrote pious letters to the city of London, the university of Cambridge, and the towns of Lan- cashire and Cheshire, besides many others to his private friends and acquaintances. Among the latter we shall preserve the follow- ing: " Gracious God, and most mer- ciful Father, for Jesus Christ's sake, thy dearly beloved Son, grant us thy mercy, grace, wisdom, and holy spirit, to counsel, com- fort, and guide «3 in all our thoughts, words, and works, to thy glory, and our everlasting joy and peace for ever. Amen. *' In my last letter you might perceive my conjecturing to be no less towards you than I have now learned. But, my dearly beloved, I have learned none other thing than what I before told you would come to pass, if ye cast not away that which ye have learned. I do appeal to both your consciences, whether I speak truth herein, as well of my telling (though not so often as I might and should, God forgive me) as also of your learn- ing. Now God will try you, to make others learn by yon, that which ye learned by others, and by them which have suffered this day ye might learn, (if already ye had not learned) that life and honour is not to be regarded more than God's commandment. They in no point, for all that ever their ghostly fathers could do, having Dr. Death to take their part, would consent, or seem to consent to the popish mass, and papistical god, otherwise than they had received in the days of our late king. And this their faith they have confessed with their deaths, to their great glory, and all our comforts, if we follow them; but to our confusion if we staad back from the same. Wherefore I beseech you to consider, as well to praise God for them, as to go the same way with them, if God please. " Consider not the things of this life, which is a very prison to all God's children; but the things of everlasting life, which is our very home. But to behold this ye must open the eyes of your mind, of faith, I should have said, as Moses did, who chose rather to suffer af- fliction with the people of God, than to possess the riches of Egypt, and the pleasures of Pharaoh's court. Your house, home, and goods, yea life, and all that ever ye have, God hath given you as love tokens, to admonish you of his love, and to win your love to him again. He will try your love, whether ye set more by him than by his tokens. If ye, for the sake of his tokens, that is, your house, home, goods, yea life, will go with the world rather than lose them, then be assured your love, as he cannot but espy it to be a strum- pet's^love, so will he cast it away with the world. Remember, that he who will save his life shall lose it, if Christ be true; but he who adventuretii, yea, loseth his life for the gospel's sake, the same shall be sure to find it eternally. Do not ye know, that the way to salvation is not the broad way which many run in, but the strait way which now few walk in? " Before persecution came, men might partly have stood in a doubt, by the outward state of the world with us, (although, by God's word, it was plain) which was the high- way, (for there were as many that pretended the gospel as popery) but now the sun is risen, and the wind bloweth; so that the corn which has not taken fast root, nei- ther can or will abide; and, there- fore, ye may easily see the strait way, by the small number of pas- sengers. Who will now adventure their goods, and life, for the sake of Christ, who gave his life for our sakes? We are now become Ger- REV. JOHN BRADFORD. 439 s:esitcs, that would rallier lose Christ than our swine. A wife is proved faitlirul, when she rejectetli and withstandeth other suitors. A faitliful Clnistian is then found so to be, when his faith is assaqjted. " If we are neither able iior will- ing- to forsake this workl for God's glory, and c:ospers sake, ere long- shall we be obliged to leave it for nature's sake. Die ye must once, and leave all ye have, (God only knoweth how soon) whether ye will or not; and seeing you cannot avoid it, why will ye not volunta- rily do it for God's sake? " If you go to mass, and do as the most part doth, then may ye live quietly, and at rest; but if ye refuse to go thither, then ye shall go to prison, lose your goods, leave your children comfortless, yea, lose your life also. But (my dearly beloved) open the eyes of your faith, and consider the shortness of this life, that it is even as a shadow and a smoke. Again, consider how intolerable the punishment of hell-fire is, and that endless. Last ofall,lookon the joys incomprehen- sible, which God hath prepared for all them, world without end, who lose either life, land, or goods, for his name's sake, and reason thus: If we go to mass, the greatest enemy that Christ hath, though for a little while we shall live in quiet, and leave to our children some- thing to live upon hereafter, yet we shall displease God, fall into his hands, (which is horrible to hy- pocrites) and be in wonderful ha- zard of falling from eternal joy into eternal misery, first of soul, then of body, with the devil, and all idolaters. " Again, wc shall want peace of conscience, which surmounteth all the riches of the world: and for our children, who knoweth whether God will visit our idolatry on them in this life? Yea, our house and goods, and even our lives, are in danger of being lost by many ca- sualties; and when God is angry with us, he can, when he pleases, send one means, or other, to take all from us for our sins, and to cast us into greater trouble, who will not come into 8on\e little for his sake. " On this sort reason with youv- selves, and then, doubtless, C )d will work otherwis© with you, and in you, than ye arc aware of. Where now ye think yourselves unable to abide persecution, be most assured, that if you earnestly purpose not to forsake God, that he will make you so able to bear h'is cross, that you shall rejoice therein. ' God is faithful,' saith St. Paul, ' who will not suffer you to be tempted above that you are able ; but will, with the temptation, also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.' Think how great a benefit it is, if God will make you worthy of this ho- nour, to suffer loss of any thing for his sake. He might justly inflict most grievous plagues upon you, and yet now he will correct you with that rod, whereby you shall be made like to his Christ, that ye may for ever reign with him. Suf- fer yourselves, therefore, now to be made like to Christ, for else ye shall be never made like unto him. The devil would gladly have you now to overthrow that which ye have, a long time, steadfastly pro- fessed. O how would he triumph, if he could win his purpose! O how would the papists triumph against God's gospel in you! O how would you confirm them in their wicked popery! O how would the poor children of God be discomforted, if you should go to mass, and other idolatrous service, and do as the world doth! " Hath God delivered you from labour to serve him so ? Hath God miraculously restored you to health, from your grievous agues, for ^such a purpose? Flath God given you such blessings in this world, and good things all the days of your life hitherto, and now of equity, will ye not receive at his hands, and for his sake, some evil ? God forbid ; I hope better of you. Use prayer, and castyour care upon God ; commit your chil- dren into his hand ; give to God 440 BOOK OF MA.RTYRS. yoiir goods, bodies, and lives, as he hath given them, or rather lent them, to you. Say with Job, ' God hath given, and God hath taken away, his name be praised for ever.' Cast your care upon him, I say, for he is careful for you ; and take it amongst the great- est blessings of God, to sutler for his sake. I trust he hath kept you hitherto to that end. " And I beseech thee, O merci- ful Father, for Jesus Christ's sake, that thou wouldest be merciful unto us, comfort us with thy grace, and strengthen us in thy truth, that in heart we may believe, and in tongue boldly confess thy gospel, to thy glory, and our eternal sal- vation. Amen. Pray for me, and I, by God's grace, will do the same for you. John Bradford. his farewel letter to his mo- THER. " God's mercy, and peace in Christ, be more and more perceiv- ed of us, Amen. " M3' most dear mother, in the bowels of Christ I heartily pray and beseech you to be thankful for me unto God, who now taketh me unto himself: I die not as a crimi- nal, but as a witness of Christ, the truth of whose gospel T have hi- therto confessed, I thank God, both by preaching and imprison- ment, and now I am willing to confirm the same by fire. I ac- knowledge that God might justly have taken me hence for my sins, (which are many, great, and griev- ous : but the Lord, for his mercy in Christ, I hope hath pardoned them all) but now, dear mother, he taketh me hence by this death, as a confessor and witness, that the religion taught by Christ Jesus, the prophets, and the apostles, is God's truth. The prelates in me do persecute Christ, whom they hate, and his truth, which they will not abide, because their works are evil. They do not care for the light, lest men thereby should dis- cover their darkness. Therefore, my dear mother give thanks to God for me, that he hath made the fruit of your womb to be a witness of his glory, and attend to the truth, which I have truly taught out of the pulpit of Manchester. Use often and continual prayer to God the Father, through Jesus Christ. Hearken to the scriptures, and serve God according to them, and not according to the custom : beware of the Romish religion in England ; defile not yourself with it : carry the cross of Christ as he shall lay it upon your back : for- give them that kill me : pray for them, for they know not what they do : commit my cause to God our Father: be mindful of both your daughters, and help them as well as you can. " I send all my writings to you and my brother Roger ; do Avith them as you will, because I can- not as I would; he can tell you more of my mind. I have nothing to give you, or to leave behind me for you: only I pray God, my father, for Christ's sake, to bless you, and keep you from evil. May he make you patient and thankful, that he will take the fruit of your womb to witness his truth ; wherein I confess to the whole world, I die, and depart this life, in hope of a much better : which I look for at the hands of God my father, through the merits of his dear Son Jesus Christ. " Thus, my dear mother, T take my last farewel of you in this life, beseeching the Almighty and eter- nal Father, by Christ, to grant us to meet in the life to come, where we shall give him continual thanks, and praise, for ever and ever. Amen. Your son, in the Lord, June 24, 1555. John Bradford." MARGARET POLLEY, FIRST FEMALE MARTYR IN ENGLAND. Such was the fury of bigoted zeal during the reign of Mary, that even the more tender sex did not escape the resentment of the Romish persecutors. These mon- sters, in human form, embraced every opportunity of exercising their cruelty, tyranny, and usurpa- MARGARET POLLEY. 441 tion ; nor could youth, a^fe, or sex, impress on their minds the least feelings of humanity. Information being given against Margaret Polley, to Maurice, bi- shop of Rochester, she was brought before him, when his lordship, ac- cording to the pontifical solemnity of the church of Rome, rose from his chair, and, in solemn parade, ha- rangued her as follows : " We Maurice, by the suffer- ance of God, bishop of Rochester, proceeding of our mere office in a cause of heresy, against thee Mar- garet Polley, of the parish of Po- pingberry,ia our diocese and juris- diction of Rochester, do lay, and object against thee, all and singu- lar the ensuing articles : " To these, all and singular, we require of thee a true, full, and plain answer, by virtue of thine oath thereupon to be given/' The oath being administered by the official, the bisiiop looked steadfastly at the woman, and de- manded of her a peremptory answer to each of the following articles. 1. " Arc not those heretics, who maintain and hold other opinions than our holy mother and Catholic church doth I" To this she replied, " They are, indeed, heretics and grossly de- ceived, who hold and maintain doctrines contrary to the will of God, contained in the holy scrip- tures, which I sincerely believe were written by holy men imme- diately taught and instructed by the Holy Ghost." 2. " Do you hold and maintain that in the sacrament of the altar, under the form of bread and wine, there is not the very body and blood of Christ, and that the said body is verily in heaven only, and not in the sacrament ?" She answered, " What T have learned from the holy scriptures, those living oracles of God, I do and will steadfastly maintain, viz. that the very body which was cru- cified for the sins of all true be- lievers, ascended into heaven, is there placed at the right hand of the majesty on high ; that such body has ever since remained there» and therefore cannot, according to my belief, be in the sacrament of the altar. " I believe that the bread and wine in the sacrament are to be re- ceived as symbols and representa- tives of the body and blood of Christ, but not as his body really and substantially. " I think, in my weak judgment, that it is not in the power of any man, by pronouncing words over the elements of bread and wine, to transubstantiate them into the real body and blood of Christ. "In short, it is my belief, that the eucharist is only a commemo- ration of the death of our Saviour, who said, ' As oft as ye do this, do it in remembrance of me.'" Those pertinent and frank re- plies greatly provoked the haughty prelate, who exclaimed against the woman, as an obstinate heretic, and, after much scurrilous lan- guage, told her, " she was a silly woman, knew not what she said, and that it was the duty of every Christian to believe as the mo- ther-church hath taught and doth teach." He then asked her the following question: "Will you, Margaret Polley, recant the error which you maintain, be reconciled to the holy church, and receive the remission of sins?" To which she replied, " I cannot believe otherwise than I have spoken, because the prac- tice of the church of Rome is con- trary not only to reason, and my senses, but also to the word of God." Immediately on this reply, the bishop pronounced sentence of condemnation against her ; after, which she was carried back to prison, where she remained for up- wards of a month. She was a woman in the prime of life, pious, charitable, humane, learned in the scriptures, and be- loved by all who were acquainted with her. During her imprisonment she was repeatedly exhorted to re- cant; but she refused all ofiers ef 4i% BOOK OF MARTYRS. life on sacli terms, choosing s'ory, lioiiour, and immortality hereafter, rather than a few short years in this vale of ^rief, and even those purchased at the expense of truth and conscience. When the day appointed for her execution arrived, which was in July, 1555, she was conducted from the prison at Rochester to Tun- bridge, where she was burned, sealing; the truth of what she had testified with her blood, and shew- ing that the God of all grace, out of the weakest vessel can give strength, and cause the meanest instruments to magnify the glories of his redeeming love. CHRISTOPHER WADE. On the same day that Margaret Polley suffered, one Christopher Wade, a weaver of Dartford, in Kent, who had likewise been con- demned by the bishop of Roches- ter, shared the same fate, and at the same place ; but they were ex- ecuted separately, he first submit- ting to the dreadful sentence. OTHER MARTYRS. About the same time, John Bland, John Frankesh, Nicho- las Sheterden, and Humphrey Middleton, were all burnt toge- ther at Canterbury. The two first were ministers and preachers of tlie gospel, the ©ne being rector of Adesham, and the other vicar of Rolvindon, in Kent. They all re- signed themselves to their fate with Christian fortitude, fervently praying to God to receive them into his heavenly kingdom. martyrdoms of JOHN LAUNDER, AND DIRICK CARVER. John Launder, of Godstone, in the county of Surry, husbandman ; and DiRiCK Carver, of JJright- heimstone,inthe county of Sussex, brewer, were apprehended in the dwelling-house of the latter, as they were at prayers, and sent up to the council at London, w^here being examined, and not giving satisfactory answers to the ques- tions proposed, they were com- mitted prisoners to Newgale, io wait the leisure, and abide the de- termination of the cruel and arro- gant bishop Bonner. Launder, on his examination, said, that the occasion of his being at Brighthelrastone, was to trans- act some business for his father, and that hearing Mr. Carver was a great promoter of the doctrines of the reformation, he went to his house, in order to join in prayer to God, with the pious Christians which resorted thither, on which he was apprehended by Mr. Gage, an officer. He avowed his belief, that " there is on earth one whole and universal Catholic church, the members of which are dispersed throughout the world ; that the same church doth set forth and teach only two sacraments, which are. Baptism and the Lord's Sup- per ; that whosoever doth teach or use any more sacraments, or any other ceremonies, he doth ab- hor them from the bottom of his heart." He further said, " that all the service, sacrifices, and ceremonies, now used in this realm of England, and in other parts of the world, where they are used after the same manner, are erroneous, contrary to Christ's institution, and the de- termination of Christ's Catholic church, whereof he believeth him- self to be a member. That in the sacrament, called the sacrament of the altar, there is not really and truly contained, under the forms of bread and wine, the very natural body and blood of Christ in sub- stance ; but that when he did re- ceive the material bread, he re- ceived the same in remembrance of Christ's death and passion, and no otherwise. " Moreover, that the mass used in the realm of England, or else- where, in Christendom, is abomina- ble, and directly against God's word, and his Catholic church, and that there is nothing said or used in it, good or profitable ; for though the ' Gloria in excelsis,' the creed and pater-noster, and other parts CARVER AND LAUNDER. 443 of tlie mass, are good in them- selves, yet being used amongst otiier things that are superstitious, they become corrupt. Lastly, that auricular confession is not neces- sary to be made to any priest, or to any other creature, but every person ought to confess his sins to God alone, because no earthly power has any authority to absolve any man from his sins." Having openly acknowledged and maintained these opinions, in the bishop's consistory court, and refusing to recant, he was con- demned, and delivered over to the secular power. DiRicK Carver, being examined by bishop Bonner concerning his faith in the sacrament of the altar, the mass, auricular confession, and the religion then taught and set forth in the church of England, delivered the following, as his in- variable tenets, because founded on the infallible word of the only living and true God. To the first point he declared, that " he had, and did believe, that the very substance of the body and blood of Christ is not in the sacrament of the altar ; and that there is no other substance re- maining in that sacrament, after the words spoken by the priest, but the substance of bread and wine." As to the mass, "he believed there was no sacrifice in it, nor any salvation for a Christian, ex- cept it was said in the mother- tongue, that he might understand it." With respect to auricular con- fession, "he believed that it was necessary to apply to a priest for spiritual counsel : but that the ab- solution of the priest, by the im- position of hands, was not profita- ble to salvation, acknowledging, at the same time, that he tad not been confessed, nor received the sacrament since the coronation of the queen." Concerning the last point, "he declared it as his opinion and be- lief that the faith and religion then taught, and set forth, was not agreeable tb God's word, and that bishop Hooper, Mr. Card- maker, Rogers, and other pious men, who were lately burned, were sound divines, and preached the true doctrine of Christ." Being farther examined, be con- fessed, " that since the queen's coronation he had the bible and psalter read in English divers times, at his house in Brighthelm- stone; and that, about twelve months then past, he had the Eng- lish litany said in his house, with other prayers, in English." After these examinations he was strongly persuaded to recant, but this he peremptorily refused ; on which sentence of condemnation was passed on him at the same time as on Launder, and the time of his execution was fixed for the 22d of July, at Lewes, in Sussex. On his arrival at the stake he kneeled down and prayed ; and when he had finished his prayers, he arose, and addressed the spec- tators as follows ; " Dear brothers and sisters. Bear witness that I am come to seal with my blood the gospel of Christ, because I know that it is true. Many of you know that the gospel hath been truly preach- ed to you here in Lewes, and now it is not so preached ; and because I will not here deny God's gospel, I am condemned to die." On this ^le sheriff said, " If thou dost not believe in the pope, thou art damned, body and soul." But our martyr pitied his blind- ness, and begged of God to for- give his errors. Being then fastened to the stake, and the fire kindled round him, he patiently submitted to his fate, and expired, calling out, " O Lord have mercy upon me ! Lord Jesus receive my spirit." His fellow prisoner, John Laun- der, was burnt the following day at Steyning ; where he cheerfully gave up his life to that God from whose hands he had received it. 444 BOOK OF MARTYRS. MARTYRDOM OF JOHN DENLEY, JOHN NEWMAN, AND PATRICK PACKTNGHAM. So perpetually were the popish emissaries in search of their prey, in all parts of the kingdom, that it was almost impossible long to escape them. As Mr. Denley and Mr. Newman ■were travelling together into Essex, on a visit to some friends, they were accidentally met by Mr. Tyr- rel, justice of the peace for the said county, who, suspecting them of heresy, caused them to be ap- prehended, and searched ; and at the same time took from Mr. Denley a confession of his faith in writing, concerning the sacrament of the altar, together with certain notes collected from the holy scriptures. The justice immediately sent them to London, and with them a letter to be presented to the coun- cil, together with the papers he found on the former. On their being brought before the council, they were admonished and desired to yield obedience to the queen's laws ; but this advice proving ineffectual, their examina- tion was referred to Bonner, bishop of London. On the 28th of June, 1555, Den- ley and Newman, together with Patrick Packingham, (who had been apprehended two days be- fore) were brought before Bonner, at his palace in London. The bishop having examined the two former upon their confessions, and finding them inflexibly to ad- here to the same, he used his cus- tomary exhortation ; on which Denley said, " God save me from your counsel, and keep me in the nvind I am in ; for that which you count heresy, I take to be the truth." Bonner then ordered them to appear in the bishop's consistory court, where the following articles were jointly and severally exhibit- ed against them : 1. " That they were now in the diocese of London, and under the jurisdiction of the bishop of London." These they acknowledged to be true. 2. " That they had not, nor did believe, that there is a Catholic church of Christ here on earth." This they severally denied, " for that they did believe the holy Catholic church, which is built upon the foundation of the prophets and apostles, Christ being the head ; and that where two or three are gathered together in Christ's name, they are the members of the said holy Catholic church, which is dispersed throughout the world; which church doth preach God's word truly, and doth also minister the two sacraments. Baptism, and the Supper of the Lord, according to his blessed word." 3. "That each of them had not, nor did believe that this church of England is any part, or member of the said Catholic church." They severally answered, that " they did believe that this church of England, using the faith and practice that is now used, is no part or member of the aforesaid holy Catholic church, but is the church of Anti-Christ, the bishop of Rome being the head thereof." 4. " That they had believed, and did believe, that the mass, now used in the church of England, was abominable, and blasphemy against God's word." They answered in the affirmative; " for Christ, in his holy supper, in- stituted the sacrament of bread and wine, to be eaten together, in re- membrance of his death, till he come, and not to have them wor- shipped and idolized. It also ap- peareth, by his commandment, that we ought not to worship the sacra- ment of bread and wine, because it is plain idolatry ; for the command- ment saith, thou shalt not bow down to them, nor worship them, meaning plainly, any created thing; besides, it is plain from many passages in scripture, that the body of Christ is in heaven, and not in the sacra- mental bread and wine, and, there- fore, that it is idolatry to worship them." DENLEY, NEWMAN, AND PACKINGHAM. 446 5. " That they had believed, and did believe, that auricular confes- sion, now used in the realm of Eng- land, was not profitable, but con- trary to God's word." To this they all answered in the affirmative. 6. " That they had believed, and did believe, that absolution given by the priest, and hearing confes- sion, is not good, nor allowable by God's word, but contrary to the same." To this they answered, that " remission of sins is only to be ob- tained from God, through the blood of Jesus Christ." 7. " That they had believed, and did believe, that christening of children, as it is used now in the church of England, is not good nor allowable by God's word. Like- wise confirming of children, giving of orders, saying matins and ves- pers, anointing or oiling of sick persons, making holy bread and holy water, with other rites of the church." To this they replied, that " christening of children, or the sacrament of baptism, is altered and changed, for John the Baptist used nothing but preaching of the word, and water, as appears from Christ's desiring to be baptized by him ; for we do not read that he asked for any cream, or oil, or spittle, or wax, or salt, but used merely water, nor was this water consecrated." 8. '■ That they had believed, and did believe, that there are but two sacraments in Christ's Catholic church, the sacrament of baptism, and the sacrament of the altar." To this they briefly replied, that " they believed no more, except they would make the rainbow a sacrament, for there is no sacrament but hath a promise annexed to it." The bishop then stated one ar- ticle to Packingham alone, which was, " that he, Patrick Packing- ham, being of the age of twenty- one years at least, did irreverently stand in the great chapel, having his cap on his head during the time of mass, on the 23d of June ; that he refused holy bread, and holy water at the priest's hands, thereby contemning and despising both the mass, holy water, and holy bread." This article he acknowledged to be true. On the 5th of July, the bishop proceeded, in the usual form, against these three persons, in his consistory court at St. Paul's. After the various articles and their answers had been read, they were exhorted to recant, and both pro- mises and threats were used by Bonner, in order to prevail with them ; but on their remaining stead- fast in their faith and profession, they were all condemned as here- tics, and delivered into the custody of the sheriffs of London, who con- ducted them to Newgate, where they were kept till writs were is- sued for their execution. Denley was ordered to be burned at Uxbridge, where, being convey- ed on the day appointed, he was chained to the stake, and expired in the midst of the flames, singing a psalm to the praise of his Re- deemer. A popish priest, who was present at his execution, was so in- censed at his singing, that he or- dered one of the attendants to throw a fagot at him, which was accordingly done, and he received a violent fracture in his skull, which, with the fire, soon deprived him both of speech and life. A few days after, Packingham suffered at the same place ; but Newman was executed at Saff"ron- Walden, in Essex. They both died with great fortitude and re- signation, cheerfully resigning their souls into the hands of him who gave them, in full expectation of receiving crowns of glory in the heavenly mansions. Nor will their expectations be unfulfilled. He, " who cannot lie," has declared, that they who sulfer for his sake on earth, shall be amply rewarded in heaven. " Blessed are ye when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad ; for great is your reward in heaven ; for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you." 446 BOOK OF MARTYRS. SECTION VII. MARTYRDOMS OF WILLIAM COKER, WILLIAM HOOPER, HENRY LAW- RENCE, RICHARD COLLIER, RICHARD WRIGHT, AND WILLIAM STEER. Information havino; been given, at the same time, against these six persons, they were all brought be- fore Dr. Richard Thornton, bishop of Dover, and his assistants, in the spiritual court of Canterbury; when various articles were re- spectively exhibited against them ; to all which they answered, as men determined to adhere to the truth of that gospel they had pro- fessed, and were remanded to pri- son. Being again brought before the above persons, they were farther examined, when William Coker declared he would answer no otherwise than as he had done be- fore. Being offered six days' res- pite to consider of it, he refused to accept their indulgence; in conse- quence of which he immediately received sentence of death. Hooper, at first, seemed to as- sent to the faith and determination of the Roman Catholic church ; but, on serious reflection, he re- tracted, and firmly professed his faith in the pure gospel of Christ, as well as renounced the errors of popery. He was, therefore, also sentenced to be burned. Lawrence, who was next exa- mined, denied auricular confes- sion, and *' refused to receive the sacrament of the altar, because the order of the holy Scripture was changed in the order of the said sacrameut." — Being asked con- cerning the verity of the sacrament given to Christ's disciples, he af- firmed, that " even as Christ gave his very body to his disciples, so likewise Christ himself said, he was a door, &c."; adding, more- over, " that, as he said before, so he still said, that the sacrament of the mass is an idol, and no resem- blance of Christ's passion." Being required to subscribe to these ar- ticles, he wrote under the bill of examination as follows: "Ye are all of Anti-ChiTst, and him ye fol- low." He was then prevented from speaking farther, and sen- tence of condemnation was pro- nounced on him in the usual form. Collier, being examined with re- spect to the sacrament of the altar, answered, " he did not believe there was the real and substantial body and blood of Christ, but only bread and wine; and that it was most abominable, detestable, and wicked, to believe otherwise." In consequence of this he likewise re- ceived sentence of death. Wright, being asked by the judge what he believed of the real presence in the sacrament, an- swered, " that, touching the sa- crament of the altar and the mass, he was ashamed to speak of it; nor would he, therefore, by any means allow it." In consequence of which he also received condem- nation. Steer, the last examined, was re- quired by the judge to answer the articles laid before him. But he denied the judge's authority, and observed, that Thomas Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, then in prison, was his diocesan; and, therefore, required Dr. Thornton to shew his authority from the archbishop, or otherwise he would deem it invalid. With respect to the sacrament of the mass, he said, " as he found not the popish belief contained in the Scriptures, he en- tirely disbelieved it;'^ in conse- quence of which he received the same sentence with his fellow-pri- soners. These six men, being thus con- demned for professing the truth of Christ's gospel, were immediately delivered over to the secular power. They continued in prison, consoling each other daily, in prayer, till the 31st of August, the day appointed for their execution, when they were conveyed to Can- terbury, and there led to the stakes, of which there were three. GEORGE TANKERFIELD. 447 two of tlicm being chained to each. They all joyfully yielded up their lives as sacrifices to God, in testi- mony of their rcf;;ard to the word of truth, " which abideth to all eternity." SECTION VIII. MARTYRDOMS OF GEORGE TANKERFIELD, ELIZABETH WARNE, ReBERT SMITH, AND OTHERS. George Tankerfield was brought up by his parents in the po- pish religion, to which he zealously adhered till the beginning of the reign of queen Mary, when the horrid cruelties exercised on those who dissented from that church, so strongly impressed his mind, that he began to detest the principles of that religion he had hitherto professed. In consequence of this, he ap- plied himself, with great diligence, to obtain a knowledge of the Scriptures, sought the directions of unerring wisdom, and the teach- ing of that spirit, which alone can lead unto all truth, and, by the grace of God, soon attained to a very competent knowledge of the doctrines of the reformed church, as well as detected the errors, su- perstition, and idolatry of the po- pish faith. Being thus grounded in the great truths of the gospel, he com- municated his sentiments to his most intimate friends, whom he exhorted to search the sacred re- cords, nor be blindly led by such as imposed on them creeds, which, on examination, he found contrary to the divine mind and will, as contained in the holy Scriptures. This deviation from the princi- ples he had before so warmly pro- fessed, and zealously maintained, excited the astonishment of his friends, and raised the resentment of the popish faction, especially those who were more immediately concerned in its restoration; inso- much, that sir Roger Cholmonde- ley, and Dr. Martin, two of the queen's comrjissioners for eccle- siastical aflairs, dispatched a yeo- man to Tankerfield's house, in order to apprehend, and bring him before them. Mr. Tankerfield being absent when the yeoman came in quest of him, it was pretended that he was wanted to dress a dinner at the house of lord Paget. When he came home his wife told him, tlint he was required to attend at a banquet; to which he replied, "A banquet, woman! such a banipiet as will not be pleasing to the llesh ; but God's will be done." He was then seized by a consta- ble, and committed to Newgate ; and after being confined there some time, was brouglit before, and repeatedly examined by, bi- shop Bonner, and others, concern- ing divers articles and tenets of religion. He was chiefiy required to give his opinion concerning au- ricular confession, the popish sa- crament of the mass, and other ce- remonies. In answer to the first of these he said, " he had not confessed to any priest for several months, and that he would not be confessed by any priest hereafter, because he found no such duty commanded in the word of God, which he now took as his only guide in all mat- ters of religion." With respect to the sacrament, commonly called the sacrament of the altar, he declared, " he did not believe that in the said sacra- ment there was the real body and blood of Christ, because the body of Christ was ascended into hea- ven, and there sat at the righthand of God the Father." To the last point he answered, that "the mass then used in the church of England was full of idolatry, abomination, and wholly inconsistent with the word of God;" adding, " that there were but two sacraments in Christ's church, namely, Baptism, and the Lord's Supper." The bishop, after this confession. 448 BOOK OF MARTYRS. in his usual manner, exhorted him to recant his opinions, declaring them to be damnable heresies ; but Tankerfield assured his lordship tliat he would persist in his belief till it should be proved erroneous from scripture authority, being regardless of the tenets of the greatest prelate upon earth, if not founded on the word of eternal truth, declaring, at the same time, that the arbitrary commissioners for ecclesiastical affairs condemned persons without proving any thing against them. Bonner, with an affected con- cern for his interests, temporal and eternal,used many enticing words to bring him to the " mother-church ;" but our martyr boldly told him, that the church of which the pope is supreme, is no part of Christ's Catholic church; and pointing to the bishop, he said, " Good peo- ple, beware of him, and such as he is, for these be they that deceive you." The bishop was so enraged at his resolute behaviour, that he im- mediately proceeded to read the sentence of condemnation; after which, Mr. Tankerfield was deli- vered over to the secular power. The place allotted for his exe- cution was St. Alban's, in Hert- fordshire, and the following " Notes" give so interesting an account of his behaviour and suf- ferings, that we give them verba- tim. "notes concerning GEORGE TAN- KERFIELD, AFTER HE WAS CAR- RIED TO ST. alban's to SUFFER MARTYRDOM. "He was brought to St. Alban's by the high sheriff of Hertford- shire, Edward Brocket, Esq. and Mr. Pulter, of Hitchen, who was under-sheriff. They put up at the Cross-Keys inn, where there was a great concourse of people to see and hear the prisoner ; some were sorry to see so pious a man brought to be burned, others praised God for his constancy and perseverance in the truth. Contrariwise, some said, it was pity he did stand in such opinions : and others, botk old men and women, cried against him ; one called him heretic, and said it was pity that he lived. But Tankerfield spake unto them so ef- fectually out of the word of God, lamenting their ignorance, and pro- testing unto them his unspotted conscience, that God did mollify their hardened hearts, insomuch that some of them departed out of the chamber weeping. " There came a certain school- master to have communication with him, the day before he was coming to St. Alban's, concerning the sa- crament of the altar, and other points of the popish religion : but as he urged Tankerfield with the authority of the doctors, wresting them after his own will ; so, on the other side, Tankerfield answered him mightily by the scriptures, not wrested after the mind of any man, but being interpreted after the will of the Lord Jesus, &c. So that as he would not allow such allega- tions as Tankerfield brought out of the scriptures, without the opi- nions of the doctors ; so again Tankerfield would not credit his doctrine to be true, except he would confirm it by the scriptures. In the end, Tankerfield prayed him that he would not trouble him in such matters, for his conscience was established, &c. He, therefore, departed from him, wishing him well, and protesting that he meant him no more hurt than his own soul. " When the hour drew on that he should suffer, he desired the wine-drawer that he might have a pint of malmsey and a loaf, that he might eat and drink in remem- brance of Christ's death and pas- sion, because he could not have it administered to him by others in such manner as Christ commanded: and then he kneeled down, making his confession unto the Lord with all which were in the chamber with him ; and after he had prayed earn- estly, and had read the institution of the holy supper by the Lord Jesus out of the evangelists, and out of St. Paul, he said, ' O Lord, GEORGE TANKERFIELD. 449 thou knowest it, I do not tJiis to derotrate autliority from any man, oi- in contempt of those which are thy ministers, but only because I cannot have it administered ac- cording!^ to thy word, &c.' and when he had spoke these and such like words, he received it with giving of thanks. " When some of his friends de- sired him to eat some meat, he said lie would not eat that which should do others good that had more need, and that had longer to live than he, A Woman with her suckiitg Infant lied to^eLher in a biiir and thrown into a Rin-r in Scotland ; and Four Men hung at the same time for eating Goose on a FuU Day. " He prayed his host to let him have a good fire in the chamber, which was granted him ; and then he sitting on a form before it, put off his shoes and hose, and stretch- ed out his leg to the flame ; and when it had touched his foot he quickly withdrew his. leg, shewing the flesh did persnkde him one way, and the spirit another. The flesh said, O thou fool, Milt thou burn, and needest not ? The spirit said, Be not afraid, for this is no- thing in respect of fire eternal. The flesh said, Do not leave the company of thy friends and ac- quaintance which love thee, and win let thee lack nothing. The .spirit said, The company of Jesus FOX'S MARTVRS. Christ and his glorious presence doth exceed all fleshly friends. The flesh said. Do not shorten thy time, for thou mayest live if thou wilt much longer. The spirit said. This life is nothing unto the life in heaven which lasteth for ever, &c. And all this time the sherifls were at a gentleman's house at dinner, not far from the town, whither also resorted many knights and gentle- men out of the country, because his son was married that day; and until they returned from dinner, the prisoner was left to the care of his host, by w horn he was kindly treated ; and considering that his time was short, his saying was, ' That although the day was ever so 29 450 BOOK OF MARTYRS. long:, yet at the last it ringeth to evening song.' "About two o'clock, when the sheriffs returne'tl from dinner, they brought Mr. Tankerficld out of the inn to the place where he should suffer, which was called Romeland, being a green place near the west end of the Abbey church; unto which when he was come, he kneel- ed down by the stake that was set up for him ; and after he had end- ed his prayers he arose, and with a joyful faith said, that although he liad a sharp dinner, yet he hoped to have a joyful supper in heaven. "While the fagots were set about him, there came a priest and persuaded him to believe on the sacrament of the altar, and he would be saved. But Tankerfield cried vehemently, ' I defy the whore of Babylon: fie on that abominable idol : good people, do not believe him.' And then the mayor of the town commanded fire to be set to the heretic, and said. If he had but one load of fagots in the world, be would give them to burn him. Amidst this confusion there was a certain knight who went unto Tankerfield, and taking him by the hand said, ' Good bro- ther, be strong in Christ ;' this he spake softly ; and Tankerfield said, ' O sir, I thank you, I am so, I thank God.' Then fire was set unto him, and he desired the sheriff and all the people to pray for him ; most of them did so. And so. em- bracing the fire, he called on the name of the Lord Jesus, and was quickly out of pain." ELIZABETH WARNE. This pious woman, and steadfast believer in the pure gospel of Christ, (according to the dying re- quest of her husijand, who, some time before, had sealed the truth "with his blood) persisted in wor- shipping God according to the dic- tates of her own conscience, and the form she conceived was con- tained in the divine command. Information being given against her, she was apprehended in a house in Bow-churchyard, in com- pany with sevei'al others, who were assembled for prayer and other spiritual exercises, and with them sent to the Compter, from whence she was committed to Newgate. She had been but a few days confined before she was sent for by the queen's commissioners, who, after some examination, gave her up to the bishop of London. The chief article alleged against her by Bonner was, her not believ- ing the real presence in the sacra- ment of the altar : she was also ac- cused of absenting herself from church, speaking against the mass, despising the ceremonies of the holy mother-church, &c. To these accusations she gave such answers as highly ofi'ended the bishop, who warmly exhorted her to recant her erroneous and heretical opinions. She replied, " Do with me what you will ; for if Clirist was in an. error, then I am in an error." On this peremptory declaration she was condemned a« an heretic, delivered to the sheriff of London, and conducted to Newgate. When the day appointed for her execution arrived, she was carried from Newgate to Stratford-le- Bow, where she suffered martyr- dom for the cause of Christ and his gospel, in August 1555, following her husband through the path of a fiery trial, to the heaven of rest that awaits all the disciples of our blessed and glorious Redeemer. ROBERT SMITH. This martyr was originally edu- cated in the Roman Catholic re- ligion ; but having for some time enjoyed a place under the provost of Eton college, he was converted to the true faith by the preaching of several reformed ministers in that learned seminary. By continually searching the scriptures, he soon became well acquainted with the doctrines of the gospel. He was also very ex- emplary in his life and conversa- tion, attracting the veneration and esteem of all those who knew him. ROBERT SMITH. 451 As he was known to profess tlie protestant religion, he was, on llie accession of queen Mary, deprived of his post in tlie college, and soon after sent up prisoner to the bishop of London, by whom he was com- mitted to Newgate, after liaving been examined by him several times, at his palace and in other places. Being questioned by the bishop concerning auricular confession, he declared " he had never been confessed since lie arrived at years of discretion, because he never thought it needful, nor commanded of God to confess his faults to any of that sinful number called priests." The bishop then inquired, how long it was since he had received the sacrament of the mass, and what was his opinion concerning the same. To this he replied, that he had never received the same, since he arrived at years of discretion, nor, by the grace of God, ever would ; neither did he esteem it in any point necessary, because it was not God's ordinance, but rather set up in mockery of God, and to deprive him of the honour which is his due. Being questioned concerning his belief in the corporeal presence in the sacrament, after the words of consecration pronounced by the priest, he replied, " I have onee told you, that it was not God's or- dinance, nor a sacrament; but only man's vain invention. If ye can shew from scripture that it is the very body, I will believe it, but till then I shall esteem it a de- testable idol, not God, but contrary to God and truth." This answer so irritated the haughty prelate, that he greatly reviled Mr. Smith ; but his passion abating, he afterwards examined him in milder terms, and cooll}' in- quired his opinion concerning the Catholic church. Mr. Smith replied, " I believe there is one Catholic church, or congregation of the faithful, which (as the apostle saith) is built upon the prophets and apostles, Christ Jesus being tlic chief corner stone. I also believe, that this ciiurch, in all words and works, niaintaiiieth the word of God, and briiigctii the same for her autiiority ; of tliis church I am assured, that by grace I am made a member." He was tlien examined concern- ing holy bread, lioiy water, and other ceremonies of the popish church; but these points he de- nied as unseriptural, and persist- ing in his opinions, notwitlistand- ing the repeated admonitions of the bishop, lie was sunmioncd to appear at the consistory court, where having made the same con- fession as before, sentence of con- demnation was passed upon him, and he was delivered over to the secular power. After the articles against him were read, Mr. Smith remonstrat- ed with the lord -mayor, sherilKs, and others who were present on the occasion, in the following manner : turning to the lord mayor he said, " I require you, my lord, in God's behalf, unto whom per- taineth your sword and justice, that I may here before your pre- sence answer to these objections that are laid against me, and have probation of the same; and if any thing that I have said, or will say, be proved (as my lord saith) he- resy, I shall not only with all my heart forsake the same, and cleave to the truth, but also recant where- soever you shall assign me, and all this audience shall be witness to the same." L. May. Why, Smith, thou canst not deny but this thou saidst. Smith. Yes, my lord, I deny that which he hath written, because he hath both added to and dimi- nished from the same : but what I have spoken, I will never deny. L. May. Why, thou speakest against the blessed sacrament of the altar. Srnith. I denied it to be any sacrament, and I do stand here to make probation of the same ; and 432 BOOK OF MARTYRS. if my lord or any of his doctors be able to prove either the name or usa^e of the same, I will recant mine error. Bonner. By my troth, Mr. Speaker, you shall preach at a stake. Smith. Well sworn, my lord, you keep a sjood -vvatch. Bonner. Well, Mr. Controller, I am no saint. Smith. No, my lord, nor yet a good bishop. For a bishop, saith St. Paul, should be faultless, and a vessel dedicated unto God ; and are you not ashamed to sit in judg- ment and be a blasphemer, con- demning innocents ? Bonner. Well, Mr. Controller, you are faultless. Smith. My lord mayor, I re- quire you in God's name, that I may have justice. We be here to-day a great many innocents Avrongfully accused of heresy. And I require you, if you will not seem to be partial, let me have no more favour at your hands, than tlie apostle had at the hands ufFestus and Agrippa, who being heathens and infidels, gave him leave not only to speak for him- self, but also heard the probation of his cause. This require I at your hands, who being a Christian judge I hope will not deny me that right, which the heathen have suf- fered : if you do, then shall all this audience, yea, and the hea- tlien, speak shame of your act. For all that do well come to the light, and they tliat do evil hate the light. At this the lord mayor was a- bashed, and said nothing, but the bishop told Smith he should preach at the stake, and the sherifl" cried, Away with him. Before the bishop passed sen- tence, in derision of Tankerfield, who was also sentenced at the same time, and was a victualler, he told a tale of a gentleman and his cook. To which Smith answered, " My lord, you fill the people's ears with fantasies and foolish tales, and make a laughing matter at blood ; but if you were a true bishop, you should leave these rail- ing sentences, and speak the words of God." Bonner. Well, I have offered to that naughty fellow, Mr. Speaker, your companion the cook, that my chancellor should here instruct him, but he bath Avith great disdain re- fused it. Hov/ sayest thou, wilt thou have him instruct thee, and lead thee into the right way? Smith. My lord, if your chan- cellor will do me any good, and take any pains, as you say, let him take mine articles in his hands, that you have objected against me, and either prove one of them he- resy, or any thing that you do to be good : and if he be able so to do, I stand here with all my heart to hear him ; if not, I have no need, I praise God, of his sermon : for 1 come to answer for my life, and not to hear a sermon. Then began the sentence, " Tu the name of God," &c. To which Smith answered, that he began in a wrong name, asking him, where he learned in scripture to give sen- tence of death against any man for liis conscience sake. To which he made no answer, but went on, and immediately cried, " Away with him." Then Smith turned to the lord mayor, and said, " Is it not enough for you, my lord mayor, and you that are the sheritTs, that you have left the straight way of the Lord, but you must pondemn Christ causeless ?" Bonner. Well, Mr. Controller, now you cannot say, but I have offered you fair, to have instruction. And now, I pray thee, call me Bloody Bishop, and say, I seek thy blood. S}nith. Well, my lord, if neither I nor any of this congregation do report the truth of your fact, yet shall these stones cry it out, rather than it shall be hidden. Bonner. Away with him, away with him. Smith then addressed himself to the spectators in the following manner : ROBERT SMITH. 453 " Ye have seen and heard, my friends, the great injury I have this day received ; and ye are all witnesses, that we have relerred the equity of our cause to the hook of God, which appeal not being admitted, we are condemned un- heard." Addressing the lord mayor, he said, "Though, my lord,jou have here exercised your authority un- justly, and will not attend to the cry of the poor, I commit my cause to that God who judgetli aright, and will render unto every man according to his deeds ; that God, at whose awful bar both you and I must stand without respect or authority, and where sentence will be passed without partiality, bigotry, or caprice, and according to the eternal laws of infallible truth." After this Mr. Smith was car- ried back to Newgate, where he was closely confined till the Sth of August, which was appointed for his execution. On the morn- ing of that day he was conducted, under a strong guard, to Uxbridge, and there led to the stake. He bore his punishment with tlie most amazing fortitude, in full hopes that he was giving up a temporary existence for one that would be immortal. Mr. Smith had received a very liberal education, and, during tho time of his imprisonment, he wrote a great number of treatises, letters, &c. He had a good turn for poetry, in which several of his composi- tions were formed. Among the number of his writings we shall preserve the following LETTER TO HiS WIFE. " I beseech you, above all things, to love God, my dear wife, with all your heart, study his word, learn his will, and perform it. " Be friendly to all creatures, and especially to your own soul. " Be always an enemy to the devil, and the world, but especially to your own tlesh. " In hearing of good things, join the ears of your head and heart together. *' Seek unity and quietness with all men, but especially with your conscience ; for he will not easily he entreated. " Love all people, but especially your enemies. " Hate the sins that are past, but especially those to come. " Be as ready to further your enemy, as he is to hinder you, that ye may be the child of God. " Delile not that which Christ hath cleansed, lest his blood be laid to your cliarge. " Remember that God hath hedged in your tongue with the teeth and lips, that it might speak under correction. " Be ready at all times to look to your brother's eye, but especial- ly in your own eye : for he that viarneth others of what iie himself is guilty, doth give his neighbour the clear wine, and keepeth the dregs to liimseif. " Beware of riches and worldly honour; for without understanding, prayer, and fasting, it is a snare, and also poverty, all which are like to consuming fire, of which, if a man take a little, it will warm him, but if he take too much, it will consume him : for it is hard for a man to earc} lire in his bosom, and not be burnt. " Shew mercy to the saints for Christ's sake, and Christ shall reward you for the saint's sake. Among all other prisoners visit your own ; for it is inclosed in a perilous prison. " If you will love God, hate evil, and ye shall obtain the reward of Mell doing. " Thus fare you well, good Anne. Have use heartily commended to all that love the Lord unfeiguedly. I beseech you have me in your prayer while I am living, and I am assured the Lord will accept it. Bring up my children, and yours, in the fefir of God, and then shall 1 not fail, but receive you together in the everlasting king- dom of God, into which I hope to go. " Your husband, *' Robert Smith." 454 BOOK OF MARTYRS. His " sbort Address to all tlie faithful Servants of Ciirist, cx- liorting them to be strong!; under Persecution," we present as a specimen of his verse, which, con- jsiderinj? the age in wliich it was written, is not deficient in har- mony, althouo-h full of quaint conceits, like the other productions of that time. Content thj^self with patience. With Christ to bear (he cross of pak^ Which can and will thee recompense, A thousand fold, with joys again. Let nothing; cause thy heart to quail, Laumh out (hy boat, hale up thy sail, Put from the shore : And be thou sure thou shalt attain Unto the port that shall remain For evermore. About the same period that Mr. Smith was burnt, three others, wh6 had been' condemned by bishop Bonner, shared the same fate ; namely, Stephen Harwood, Tho- mas Fust, and William Hale. The first of these suflered at Strat- ford, near Bow ; the second at Ware ; and the third at Barnet. CEORGE KING, THOMAS LEVES, AND JOHN WADE. These three persons being most cruelly used in Lollard's Tower, and falling sick there, were so weak that they were removed into dif- ferent houses in the city, where they died, and were then thrown into the fields, and there buried in the night by some of the faithful brethren, none of whom in the day time durst do it. WlLilAM ANDREW. The same catholic charity was also shewn to William Andrew, of Horsley, in the county of Essex, carpenter, who was brought to Newgate the first of April, 1555. His principal persecutor was lord Rich, who sent him to prison. Being twice examined before bishop Bonner, Andrew boldlj' stood in defence of his religion. At length, by the severe usage he met with in Newgate, he there lost his life, which otherwise would have been taken away by fire : and so after the popish manner he was cast out into a field, and by night was privately buried by the hands of good men and faithful brethren. SECTION IX. MARTYRDOM OF THE REV. ROBERT SAMUEL, AND OTHERS. Mr. Robert Samuel was a\ery pious man, and an eminent preach- er of the gospel, according to the principles of the reformation, dur- ing the reign of Edward VI. He attended his charge with indefati- gable industry, and by his preach- ing and living, recommended and enforced the truth of the gospel. Soon afterthe accession of queen Mary, he was turned out of his living, and retired to Ipswich ; but he could not refrain from using his utmost efforts to propagate the reformed religion, and, therefore, what he was pre Tented doing in public, he did in private. He as- sembled those who had been ac- eustomed to hear him in a room in his house, and there daily taught them such precepts as might lead them to salvation. While he was spending his time in this Christian manner, the queen commanded the commissioners for ecclesiastical affairs to publish an order, that all priests who had been married in the days of king Edward, should put away their wives, and be compelled again to chastity, (as their hypocritical term expressed it) and a single life. This order Mr. Samuel could by no means obey, because he knew it to be abominable, contrary te the law of Christ, and every tie, social and humane. Therefore, determining within himself that God's laws were not to be violated for the traditions of men, he still kept his wife at Ipswich, and omitted no opportunity of instruct- ing his Christian friends in the neighbourhood. At length, his conduct reaching REV. ROBERT SAMUEL. 455 the ears of Foster, a justice of peace in those parts, every artifice was used by tliat popish bigot to apprehend Mr. Samuel, who was at length taken into custody by some of his myrmidons, when on a visit to his wife at Ipswich. Many ef- forts liad been made without suc- cess, but, at length, information having been given of the precise time when he was to visit his wife, tliey deferred their enterprise till night, (fearing the resentment of the people, if they should attempt to apprehend him by day) when great numbers beset him, and he quietly resigned himself into their hands. Being taken before Foster, he was committed to Ipswich gaol, where he conversed and prayed with many of his fellow-suU'ercrs, during his confinement in that place. In a short time he was removed from Ipswich to Norwich, where Dr. Hopton, the persecuting bi- shop of that diocese, and Dunning, his chancellor, exercised on him the most intolerable cruelties. Among all the inhuman wretches with which the nation abounded at that time, none could be com- pared for cruelty with these two tyrants ; for while the rage of others was generally satisfied with impri- sonment and death, these were no- torious for new-invented tortures, by which some of their prisoners were brouglit to recant, and others were driven into all the horrors of tiie most bewildered madness. In order to bring Mr. Samuel to recant, they eonfincd him in a close prison, where he was chained to a post in such a manner, that, standing only on tiptoe, he was, in that position, forced to sustain the whole weight of his body. To aggravate this torment, they kept him in a starving condition twelve days, allowing him no more than two bits of bread, and three spoonfuls of water each day, which was done in order to pro- tract his misery, till they could in- vent new torments, to overcome his patience and resolution. These inhuman proceedings brought him to so shocking a state, that he was often ready to perish with thirst and hunger. At length, wlien ail the tortures that these savages could invent proved ineflectual, and nothing could induce our martyr to dcaiy his great Lord and Master, he was condemned to be burned, an act less cruel than what he had already sulfcred. On the .31st of August, 1555, he was taken to the stake, where he declared to the people around him what cruelties he had sulfcred dur- ing the time of his imprisonment, but that he had been enabled to sustain them all by the consola- tions of the divine .spirit, with which he had been daily visited. As this eminent martyr was be- ing led to execution, a young wo- man, who had belonged to his con- gregation, and received the benefit of his spiritual discourses, came up to him, and, as the last token of respect, cordially embraced him. This being observed by some of the blood-thirsty papists, diligent inquiry was made for her the next day, in order to bring her to the like fate with her revered pastor, but she happily eluded their search, and escaped their cruel in- tentions. Before Mr. Samuel was chained to the stake, he exhorted the spec- tators to avoid idolatry, and hold fast to the truth of the gospel ; after which he knelt down, and, with an audible voice, said the fol- lowing prayer: " O Lord, my God and Saviour, who art Lord X'-'>^ heaven and earth, maker of all things visible and in- visible, I am tlie creature, and work of thy hands : Lord God, look upon me, and other thy people, who, at this time, are oppressed by the worldly-minded for thy law's sake; yea, Lord, thy law itself is now trodden under foot, and men's inventions exalted above it; and for that cause do I, and many thy creatures, refuse the glory, praise, and conveniences of this life, and do choose to suller adversity, and 456 BOOK OF MARTYRS. to be banished, yea, to be burnt Avitli (he books of thy word, for the hope's sake that is laid up in store. For. Lord, thou knowest, if we would but seem to please men in things contrary to thy word, we might, by their permission, enjoy these advantages that others do, as wife, children, goods, and friends, all which I acknowledge to be thy gifts, given to the end I .should serve thee. And now, Lord, that the world will not suffer me to enjoy them, except I offend thy laws, behold I give unto thee my whole spirit, soul, and body; and lo, I leave here all the plea- sures of this life, and do now leave the use of tiiem, for the hope's sake of eternal life purchased in Christ's blood, and promised to all them that fight on his side, and are content to suffer with him for his truth, whensoever the world and the devil shall persecute the same. " O Father, I do not presume to come unto thee, trusting in mine own righteousness; no, but only in the merits of thy dear Son, my Sa- \iour. For which excellent gift of salvation I cannot wortliily praise thee, neither is my sacrilice worth5% or to be accepted with thee, in comparison of our bodies mortified, and obedient unto thy will: and now, Lord, whatsoever rebellion hath been, or is found in my members against thy will, yet do I here give unto thee my body, to the death, rather than I will use any strange worshipping, which, I beseech thee, accept at my hand for a pure sacrifice: let this torment be to me the last enemy destroyed, even death, the end of misery, and the beginning of all joy, peace, and so- lace: and when the time of resur- rection cometh, then let me enjoy again these members then glori- fied, which now be spoiled and consumed by the fire. O Lord Je- sus, receive my spirit into thy hands. Amen." When he had finished his prayer he arose, and being fastened to the stake, the fagots were placed round him, and immediately light- ed. He bore his sufferini's with a courage and resolution truly Christian, cheerfully resigning this life of care and trouble in ex- change for another, where death shall be swallowed up in victory, where the tears shall be wiped away from all eyes, and an eternity employed in singing the praises of that grace, which has brought the redeemed of the Lord from much tribulation, and advanced them to mansions at the right hand of God, where are pleasures for evermore. As Mr. Samuel was a faithful pastor over his flock during his life, so he was resolved they should not forget him after his death, as ap- pears by the following composi- tion, which he wrote to some of his congregation during his confine- ment. A LETTER OF EXHORTATION. "A MAN knoweth not his time ; but as a fish is taken with the an- gle, and as the birds are caught with the snare, so are men caught and taken in the perilous time when it cometh upon them. ' The time cometh; the day draweth near,' Ezek. vii. ' Better it were to die,' (as the preacher saith) ' than to live and see the miserable works which are done under the sun.' "Alas, for this sinful nation! a people of great iniquity, corrupt- ing their ways. They have for- saken the Lord ; they have pro- voked the holy one of Israel to an- ger, and are gone backward. Who now liveth not in such secu- rity, and rest, as though all dan- gers were clean over-past? Yea, who liveth not now in such felicity, worldly pleasures and joys, wholly seeking the world, providing, and craftily shifting for the earthly clod and carnal appetite, as though sin were clean forgotten, over- thrown, and devoured? " We might now worthily, dear Christians, lament and bewail our heavy estate, miserable condition, and sorrowful chance; yes, I say, we might well accuse ourselves, and, with Job, curse these our tur- bulent, wicked, and bloody last days of this world, were it not that REV. ROBERT SAMUEL. 447 we both see and believe, and find in God's sacred book, that God hath reserved a remnant in all ages, I m«an the faithful, as many as have been, from the beginning of the world, exercised, with di- vers afllictions and troubles, cast nnd dashed against all perils and dangers, as the very dross and out- casts of the earth, and ye will in no wise halt between God and Baal. Christ will not part spoil with his mortal enemy the devil: he will have all, or lose all; he will not permit the devil to have the service of the body, and he to stand contented with the heart and mind; but he will be glorified both in your bodies and in your spirits, which are his, as St. Paul saith, 1 Cor. vi. ' For he hath made, bought all, and dearly paid for all,' as St. Peter saith. With his own immaculate body hath he clean discharged your bodies from sin, death, and hell, and, with his most precious blood, paid your ransom, and full price, once for all, and for ever. " Now what harm, I pray you, or what loss sustain you by this? Why are ye, O vain men, more afraid of Jesus, your gentle Sa- viour, and his gospel of salvation, than of a legion of cruel devils, going about utterly to destroy you, both souls and bodies? Think you to be more sure than under your captain Christ? Do you promise yourselves to be more quiet in Sa- tan's service, than in Christ's reli- gion? Esteem you more these transitory and pernicious plea- sures, than God and all his hea- venly treasures? O palpable dark- ness, horrible madness, and wilful blindness, without comparison, too much to be suffered any longer! We see and will not see ; we know and will not know; yea, we smart and will not feel, and that our con- science well knoweth. O miser- able souls, which would, for fool- ish pleasures, lose the royal king- dom and permanent joys of God, with the everlasting glory which he hath prepared for them that tiuly love him, and renounce the world! The children of the world live in pleasure and wealth, and the devil, who is their god, and prince of this world, kccpeth their wealth which is proper unto them, and letteth them enjoy it. But let us, which be of Christ, seek and inquire for heavenly things, which, by God's promise and mercy in Christ, shall be peculiar unto us. Let carnal people pass for things that be pleasant for the body, and do appertain to this transitory life: ' Yet shall they once,' (as the kingly prophet saith) ' run about the city of God, to and fro, howling like dogs, desiring one scrap of the joys of God's elect;' but all too late, as the rich glutton did. " Let us, therefore, press for those things that do pertain to the spirit, and are celestial. ' We must be here,' (St. Paul saith) ' not as inhabiters, and home-dwellers, but as strangers;' not as strangers only, but after the mind of Paul, as painful soldiers appointed by our governor, to fight against the governor of darkness of this world, against spiritual craftiness in hea- venly things. The time is come; we must to it; the judgment must ^' begin first at the house of God. ' Began they not first with the green and sappy tree ? and what followed then on the dry branches?' Jere- my speaking in the person of God, saith, ' In the city wherein my name is invocated, will I begin to punish: but as for you,' (meaning the wicked) ' shall you be as inno- cents, and not once touched?' Nay, the dregs of God's wrath, the bottom of all sorrows, are reserved unto them in the end: but God's household shall drink the flower of the cup of his mercy. Wherefore we ought not to be dismayed, or discourage ourselves, but rather be of good comfort; not sorrowful, but joyful, in that God of his good- ness will vouchsafe to take up his beloved children, to subdue our sinful lusts, our wretched flesh and blood unto his glorj% the promoting of his holy word, and edifying of his church. What if the earthly house of this our habitation, 2 Cor. v. (St. Paul meaning the body) be destroyed ! we know assuredly wo 458 BOOK OF MARTYRS. have a building not made with hands, but everlasting in heaven, with such joys as faith taketh not, hope toucheth not, and charity ap- prehendeth not. They pass all desires and wishes. Obtained they may be by Christ, esteemed they cannot be. Wherefore the more affliction and persecution the word of God bringeth, the more fe- licity and greater joy abideth in heaven. But worldly peace, idle ease, wealthy pleasure, and this present and pleasant transitory life and felicity, wliich the ungodly foolishly imagine to procure unto themselves, by persecuting and thrusting away the gospel, shall turn unto their own trouble, and at last unto horrible destructions, and dire change of realms and countries ; and after this life, if they repent not, unto their perpe- tual misery. For they had rather, with Nabal, and his temporal plea- sures, descend to the devil, than with Christ, and his bodily trou- bles, ascend into the kingdom of God his father. ' But an unwise man,' (saith the psalmist) ' com- prehendeth them not, neither doth the foolish understand them;' that is, these bloody persecutors grow up and flourish like the flower and grass in the field. But unto this end do they so flourish, that they may be cut down, and cast into the fire for ever. For, as Job saith, ' Their joy lasteth but the twink- ling of an eye,' and death shall lie gnawing upon them as doth the flook upon the pasture; yea, the cruel worm, late repentance (as St. Mark saith) shall lie gnawing, tormenting, and accusing their wretched conscience for evermore. " Let us, therefore, good Chris- tians, be constant in obeying God rather than men. For although they slay our sinful bodies (yea, rather our deadly enemies) for God's truth ; yet they cannot do it, but by God's will, to his praise and honour, and to our eternal joy and felicity. ' These are the days of vengeance,' saith Luke, ' that all things written may be fulfilled.' Now, therefore, saith God, by the mouth of his prophet, ' I will come unto thee, and will send my wrath upon thee.' Upon thee, I say, O England, and punish thee accord- ing to thy ways, and reward thee after all thine abomination! thou hast kindled the lire of God's wrath, and hast stirred up the coals. For thou M'ast once enlight- ened, and hadst tasted of heavenly gifts, and wast become partaker of the Holy Ghost, and hadst tasted of the good word of God : ' Yea, it is yet in thy mouth,' saith the pro- phet. Alas, O England, thou knewest thy Lord and master's will, but didst not do it! 'thou must, therefore,' says he, ' sufl'er many stripes, and many sharp strokes.' " Let the enemies of Christ, and all unbelievers, look to be tor- mented and vexed, without hope of God's mercy, who know not God in Christ to be their very righteousness, their life, their own salvation, and alone Saviour, nor believe in him. " But we are the children of saints, and look for another life, which God shall give to all them who change not their faith, and shrink not from him. Rejoice, therefore, ye Christian afflicted brethren, for they cannot take our souls and bodies out of the hands of the Almighty, which are kept as in the bosom of our most loving father, and if we abide fast in Christ, and turn not away, surely we shall live for ever. Christ af- firm eth the same, saying, ' My sheep hear my voice, I know thieni, they hearken unto me, and to no strangers, and I give them ever- lasting life : for they shall not be lost, and no man shall pluck them out of my hands:' no, nor yet this flattering world, with all its vain pleasures, nor any tyrant, with his threats, can once move them out of the way of eternal life. What consolation, or comfort, can we have more pleasant and elfectual than this? God is on our side, and fighteth for us. As the world can do nothing against his might, nei- ther in taking away, or diminishing from his glory, nor putting him from his celestial throne ; so net- ALLEN, COB, AND COO. 459 ther can it hurt any one of his chil- dren without liis }?ood-will : for we are members of liis hody, of his llesli, and of his J)ones, and as dear to him as tlie apple of his eye. Let us, therefore, with earnest faith, lay fast hold on the promises in the gospel, and let us not be separated I'rorn the same by temptation, tribu- lation, or persecution. " Let us consider the truth of God to be invincible and immuta- ble, promising,- and giving us, his faithful soldiers, life eternal. It is he only that hath reserved it for us : it is his only benefit, and of his only mere mercy, and unto him only must we render thanks. Let not, therefore, the vain fantasies and dreams of men, and foolish gaudy toys of the world, nor the crafty delusions of the devil, drive, and separate us from our hope of the crown of righteousness, that is laid up in store for us against the last day. O that happy and joyful day, I mean to the faithful, when Christ, by his covenant, shall grant and give unto them that overcome, and keep his words to the end, that they may ascend and sit with him, as he ascended and sitteth on the throne with his fa- ther ! The same body and soul that is now with Christ afflicted, shall then with Christ be glorified : now in cruel hands as sheep ap- pointed to die ; then sitting at God's table with Christ in his king- dom, as God's honourable and dear children ; where we shall have heavenly riches for earthly poverty ; fullness of the presence of the glory of God, for hunger and thirst; celestial joys in the company of angels, for sorrows, troubles, and cold irons ; and life eternal for bodily death. O happy souls! O precious death, and ever more bless- ed, right dear in the eyes of God ! to you the spring of the Lord shall ever be flourishing. Then (as saith Isaiah) the Redeemer shall return, and come again into Sion, praising the Lord, and eternal mer- cies shall be over their heads : they shall obtain mirth and comfort ; sorrow and woe shall be utterly Tan(i«ished. Yes, I am he, saith the Lord, that in all things givcth you everlasting consolation. To whom, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, be glory and praise f*>7 ever. Amen. " RoBRRT Samuel." About the same time that Mr. Sa- muel suflered, several others shared the same fate, for adhering to the principles of the reformed religion. William Allen, a labouring man, was burnt at Walsingham, in Norfolk. Thomas Cob, a butcher, sulTered at Thetford, in the same county. Roger Coo, an ancient gentle- man, was brought before the bishop of Norwich, and the following ac- count of his examination will give a good idea of the degree of mercy and justice to be expected at such a tribunal; it being evident that the examination was a mere mockery. Roger Coo, being brought be- fore the bishop, was first asked by him, why he was imprisoned? Coo. At the justice's command- ment. Bishop. There was some cause why. Coo. Here is my accuser, let him declare. And his accuser said, that he would not receive the sacrament. Then the bishop said that he thought he had transgressed a law. Coo answered, that there was no law to transgress. The bishop then asked. What he said to the law that then was? Coo answered, That he had been in prison a long time, and knew it not. No, said his accuser, nor will not. My lord, ask him when he received the sacrament. When Coo heard him say so, he said, I pray you, my lord, let him sit down and examine me himself. But the bishop would not hear that, but said, Coo, why will you not receive ? He answered him. That the bishop of Rome had changed God's ordinances, and given the people bread and wine instead of the gospel, and the belief of the same. 1 460 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Bishop. Is not the holy church to be believed ? €00. Yes, if it be built upon the word of Cod. The bishop said to Coo, that/\e had the charge of his sou!. Coo. Have you so, my lord? Theu if you go to the devil for your sins, what shall become of me .' Bishop. Do you not believe as your father did ? Was not he an honest man I Coo. It is written, that after Christ hath suffered, " There shall come a people with the prince that shall destroy both city and sanc- tuary." I pray you shew me whe- ther this destruction was in my fa- ther's lime, or not? The bishop not answering his question, asked him, whether he would not obey the king's laws? Coo. As far as they agree with the word of God I will obey them. Bishop. Whether they agree with the word of God or not, we are bound to obey them, if the king were an infidel *. Coo. If Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, had so done, Ne- buchadnezzar had not confessed the living God. Bishop, These two-and-twenty years we have been governed by such kings. Coo. My lord, why were you then dumb, and did not speak or bark ? Bishop, I durst not for fear of death. And thus they ended. Mr. Coo was an aged man, and was at length committed to the fire at Yexford, in the county of Suf- folk, where he most blessedly con- cluded his long-extended years, in the month of September, 1.555. Four others also suffered about the same time at Canterbury, viz. George Cotmer, Robert Streater, Anthony Burward, and George Brodridge ; all of whom bore their punishment with Christian forti- tude, glorifying God in the midst of the flames. SECTION X. *^ SUFFERINGS AND MARTYRDOMS OF ROBERT GLOVER, AND CORNELIUS ' BONGEY, OF COVENTRY ; AND OF WILLIAM WOLSEY AND ROBERT PIGOT, OF THE ISLE OF ELY. At the time Mr. Glover was ap- prehended he lay sick at the house of his brother John Glover, who had secreted himself, on account of a warrant being issued to bring Lim before his ordinary, on a sus- picion of heresy. Though Mr. Robert Glover was in great danger from the bad state of his health, yet such was the brutality of the popish emissaries, that they took him out of his bed, and carried him to Coventry gaol, ■where he continued ten days, though no misdemeanor was al- leged against him. When the ten days were expired, in which he suflered great afiliction * A modern prelate discovered ex- actly the same spirit, when he said, in the House of Lords, that " the people had nothing to do with the laws but to obey them;" which shows that bigotry and intolerance are not confined to pa- pists. from his illness, he was brought before his ordinary, the bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, who told him that he must submit to ecclesi- astical authority, and stand re- proved for not coming to church. Mr. Glover assured his lordship, that he neither had, nor would come to church, so long as the mass was used there, to save five hun- dred lives, challenging him to pro- duce one proof from scripture to justify that idolatrous pj-actice. After a long altercation with the bishop, in which Mr. Glover both learnedly and judiciously defended the doctrines of the reformation, against the errors and idolatries of popery, and evinced, that he was able to " give a reason for the faith that was in him," he was re- manded back to Coventry gaol, where he was kept close prisoner, without a bed, notwithstanding his illness ; nevertheless, the divine GLOVER AND BONGEY. 461 comforts enabled him to sustain such cruel treatment without rc- pinina:. From Coventry he was removed to Lichfield, where he was visited by the chancellor and prebendaries, who exhorted him to recant his errors, and be dutiful to the holy mother-church ; but he refused to conform to that, or any other church, whose doctrines and prac- tices were not founded on scripture authority, which he determined to make the sole rule of his religious conduct. After this visit, he remained alone eij^ht days, during which time he gave himself up to con- stant prayer, and meditation on the exceeding precious promises of God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, to all true believers, daily amending in bodily health, and in- creasing in the true faith of the gospel. At the expiration of the eight days he was again brought before the bishop, who inquired how his imprisonment agreed with him, and warmly entreated him to be- come a member of the mother- church, which had continued many years ; whereas the church, of which he had professed himself a member, was not known but in the time of Edward VL With respect to the inquiry, our martyr was silent, treating it with that contempt which such behaviour in a prelate deserved, but told his lordship, that he professed himself a member of that church, which is built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner- stone ; and then quoted that well- known passage in the epistle of St. Paul to the Ephesians. " This church," added he, " hath been from the beginning, though it bore no pompous shew before Jhe world ; being, for the most part, under crosses and afilictions, despised, rejected, and persecuted." After much debate, in which Mr. Glover cited scripture for whatever he advanced, to the confusion and indignation of the haughty prelate, he was commanded, on his obedi- ence, to hold liis peace, us a proud and arrogant heretic. Mr. Glover then, witii a spirit becoming a man and a Clirislian, told the bishop he was not to be convinced by insolent and impe- rious behaviour, but by sound rea- soning, founded on scripture; de- siring, at the same time, that he would propound to him some arti- cles ; but the bishop chose to de- cline that method of proceeding, till he should be summoned to tho consistory court, dismissing him M'itJi an assurance that he should be kept in prison, and there have neither meat or drink, till he re- canted his heresies. Our martyr heard these cruel words with patience and resigna- tion, lifting up his heart to God, that he might be enabled to stand steadfast in the faith of the glorious gospel. When he was brought into the consistory court, the bishop de- manded of him liow many sacra- ments Christ had instituted to be used in his church ? He replied. Two ; Baptism, and the Lord's Sup- per, and no more. Being asked if he allowed con- fession, he answered in the ne- gative. With respect to the real presence in the sacrament of the altar, he declared that the mass was neither sacrifice nor sacrament, because they had taken away the true in- stitution ; and when they should restore it, he would give his judg- ment concerning Christ's body in the sacrament. After several other examina- tions, public and private, he was condemned as an heretic, and de- livered over to the secular power. Cornelius Bongey, (who was apprehended much about the same time as Mr. Glover, and suffered with him) was examined by Ran- dolph, bishop of Lichfield and Co- ventry, and the following allega- tions brought against him : 1. That he did hold, maintain, and teach in the city of Coventry, 462 BOOK OF MARTYRS. that the priest hath no power to absolve a sinner from his sins. 2. That he asserted, there were in the church of Christ but two sa- craments ; Baptism, and the Lord's Supper. 3. That in the sacrament of the popish altar, there was not the real body and blood of Christ, but the substance of bread and wine even after consecration. 4. That for the space of several years he did hold and defend, that the pope is not the head of the visi- ble church on earth. Mr. Bongey acknowledged the justness of these allegations, and protested that he would hold fast to them so long as he lived ; in consequence of which he also was delivered over to the secular power. On the 20th of September, 1555, these two martyrs were led to the stake at Coventry, where they both yielded up their spirits to that God who gave them, hoping, through the merits of the great Redeemer, for a glorious resurrec- tion to life immortal. John and William Glover, brothers to Robert, were sought after by the popish emissaries, in order to be brought to the stake, but they eluded their searches, and happily escaped. However, the resentment of the popish persecu- tors did not cease here, for after their deaths, the bones of one were taken up and dispersed in the highway ; and the remains of the other were deposited in a common field. WILLIAM VVOLSEY, AND ROBERT PIGOT. Information being laid against these two persons by the popish emissaries, they were sought after, and soon apprehended. William Wolsey was first taken, and being brought before a neighbouring justice, was bound over to appear at the ensuing sessions for the Isle of Ely. But a few days after, he was again taken into custody, and committed to Wisbeach gaol, there to remain till the next assizes foi the county. During his confinement here he was visited by the chancellor of Ely, who told him that he was out of the pale of the Catholic church, and desired that he would not med- dle any more with the scriptures than became a layman. After a short pause, Mr. Wolsey addressed the chancellor as fol- lows : " Good doctor, what did our Saviour mean, when he said. Wo be unto you. Scribes and Pha- risees, hypocrites, for ye shut up the kingdom of heaven before men ; ye yourselves go not in, neither suffer ye them that come to enter in?" Dr. Fuller replied, *' You must understand, that Christ spake to the scribes and pharisees." " Nay, Mr. Doctor," answered Wolsey, *' Christ spake even to you, and your fellows here present, and to all such as you are." Dr. Fuller then said; " IwiM leave thee a book to read, of a learned man's writing, that is to say, Dr. Watson's" (who was then bishop of Lincoln). Wolsey receiving the book, dili- gently read it over, and found it in many places manifestly contrary to God's word. At length, a fort- night or three weeks after. Dr. Ful- ler going again to the prison to converse with Wolsey, asked him how he liked the book. Wolsey re- plied, " Sir, I like the book no other- wise than I thought before I should find it." Whereupon the chancellor" taking his book departed home. At night, when Dr. Fuller came to his chamber to look on it, he found in many places, the book rased with a pen by Wolsey, and being vexed therewith, said, " O this is an obstinate heretic, and hath quite marred my book." Then the assizes drawing nigh. Dr. Fuller came again to Wolsey, and said to him, " "Thou dost much trouble my conscience, wherefore I pray thee depart, and rule thy tongue, so that I hear no more complaint of thee, and come to the church Avlien thou wilt ; and if thou WOLSEY AND PIGOT. 458 \ye oomplained upon, so far as I may, I promise thee I will not hear of it." " Doctor," said Wolsey, " I was brought hither by a law, and by a law I will be delivered." He was then broug:ht to the ses- sions, and laid in the castle at Wisbeach, he and all his friends thinking? that he would have suf- fered there at tliat time, but it proved otherwise. Robert Pi got was apprehend- ed, and brought before sir Cle- ment Hyam, who reproved hira se- verely for absenting himself from church. The reason he assigned for his absence was, that " he con- sidered the church should be a congregation of believers, assem- bled together for the worship of God, according to the manner laid down in his most holy word ; and not a church of human invention, founded on the whimsical fancy of fallible men." In consequence of this answer he was, with Wolsey, committed to prison, where they both remain- ed till the day appointed for their execution. During their confinement, se- veral of the neighbours came to visit them, among whom was Peter Valerices, a Frenchman, chaplain to the bishop of Ely, who thus ad- dressed them : " My brethren, ac- cording to mine office, I am come to talk with you, for I have been almoner here these twenty years and more, wherefore, my brethren, I desire you to take it in good part. I desire not to force you from your faith, but I require and desire you, in the name of Jesus Christ, that you stand to the truth of his gos- pel, and his word ; and I beseech Almighty God, for his son's sake, to preserve both you and me in the same unto the end, for I know not, brethren, how soon I may be in the same case with you." This address, being so different from what was expected, drew tears from all who were present, and greatly comforted our martyrs. On the 9th of October, Pigot and Wolsey were Iwought before Dr. Fuller the chancellor, and other commissioners for ecclesias- tical affairs, who laid several ar- ticles to their charge, but particu- larly that of the sacrament of the altar. When that article was proposed, they jointly declared the sacra- ment of the altar was an idol, and that the real body and blood of Christ was not present in the said sacrament ; and to tiiis opinion they said they would stand, though at the peril of their lives, being founded on the authority of God's word, which enjoined the worship of the supreme God alone. After this declaration, they were exhorted by Dr. Shaxton, one of the commissioners, to consider the danger of continuing in that belief, and recant the same, lest they should die here, and perish here- after; adding, that he had formerly believed as they did, but was now become a new man in point of faith. This not having any effect, Dr. Fuller upbraided Wolsey with ob- stinacy and fool-hardiness ; but en- deavoured to sooth Pigot into com- pliance, desiring one of the attend- ants to write to the following pur- port: " I Robert Pigot do believe, that after the words of consecration spoken by the priest, there remain- eth no more bread and wine, but the very body and blood of Christ, substantially the selfsame that was born of the Virgin Mary." It was then read to Pigot ; and his answer being required, he briefly said, " Sir, that is your faith, but never shall be mine, till you can prove it from scripture." These two martyrs thus perse- vering in the faith of the pure gos- pel, sentence of death was passed, and they were both ordered to be burned as heretics. On the 16th of October, 1555, the day appointed for their execution, they were conducted to the stake, amidst the lamentations of great numbers of spectators. Several English translations of the New 46 4 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Testament being ordered to be burned with them, they took each one of them in theirhands, lamenting, on the one hand, the destroying so valuable a repository of sacred truth, and glorying, on the other, that they were' deemed worthy of sealing the same with their blood. They both died in the triumph of faith, magnifying the power of di- vine grace, which enables the ser- vants of God to glory in tribulation, and count all things but dung and dross, for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ their Ke- deemer. SECTION XI. THE LIVES, SUFFERINGS, AND MARTYRDOMS OF HUGH LATIMER, BISHOP OF WORCESTER; AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY, BISHOP OF LONDON. Hugh Latimer was born of hum- ble parents at Thirkeston, in Lei- cestershire, about the year 1475, who gave him a good education, and sent him to Cambridge, where he shewed himself a zealous pa- pist, and inveighed much against the reformers, who, at that time, began to make some figure in Eng- land. But conversing frequently with Thomas Bilney,the most con- siderable person at Cambridge of all those who favoured the reforma- tion, he saw the errors of popery, and became a zealous protestant. Latimer being thus converted, la- boured, both publicly and privately, to promote the reformed opinions, and pressed the necessity of a holy life, in opposition to those out- ward performances, which were then thought the essentials of reli- gion. This rendered him obnox- ious at Cambridge, then the seat of ignorance, bigotry, and supersti- tion. However, the unaffected pi- ety of Mr. Bilney, and the cheerful and natural eloquence of honest Latimer, wrought greatly upon the junior students, and increased the credit of the protestants so much, that the papist clergy were greatly alarmed, and, according to their usual practice, called aloud for the secular arm. Under this arm Bilney suffered at Norwich: but his suflerings, far from shaking the reformation at Cambridge, inspired the leaders of it with new courage. Latimer be- gan to exert himself more than he had yet done ; and succeeded to that credit with his party, which Bilney had so long supported. Among other instances of his zeal and resolution in this cause, he gave one which was very remark- able: he had the courage to write to the king (Henry VIII.) against a proclamation, then just publish- ed, forbidding the use of the bible in English, and other books on reli- gious subjects. He had preached before his majesty once or twice at Windsor; and had been taken no- tice of by him in a more affable manner, than that monarch usually indulged towards his subjects. But whatever hopes of preferment his sovereign's favour might have raised in him, he chose to put all to the hazard rather than omit what he thought his duty. His letter is the picture of an honest and sin- cere heart : he concludes in these terms; "Accept, gracious sove- reign, without displeasure, what I have written ; I thought it my duty to mention these things to your ma- jesty. No personal quarrel, as God shall judge me, have I with any man : I wanted only to induce your majesty to consider well, what kind of persons you have about you, and the ends for which they counsel. Indeed, great prince, many of them, or they are much slandered, have very private ends. God grant your majesty may see through all the designs of evil men, and be in all things equal to the high office, with which you are in- trusted. Wherefore, gracious king, remember yourself; have pity upon your own soul, and think that the day is at hand, when you shall give account of your office, and the blood which hath been shed by your 2 BISHOP LATIMER, 465 sword : in the which day, that your grace may stand steadfastly, and Mot be ashamed, but be clear and ready in your reckoning, and have your pardon sealed with the blood of our Saviour Christ, which alone serveth at that day, is my daily prayer to him, who suffered death for our sins. The spirit of God preserve you." Lord Cromwell was now in power, and being a favourer of the re- formation, he obtained a benefice in Wiltshire for Latimer, wlio im- mediately went thither and resid- ed, discharofing; his duty in a very conscientious manner, though much persecuted by the Romish clergy ; who, at length, carried their malice so far as to obtain an archiepisco- pal citation for his appearance in London. His friends would have had him quit England ; but their persuasions were in vain. The Bur?iing of Bhlwps llidley and Latimer, at Oxford, October 16, 1555. He set out for London in the depth of winter, and under a se- vere fit of the stone and colic ; but he was most distressed at the thoughts of leaving his parish ex- posed to the popisli clergy. On his arrival at Loudon, he found a court of bishops and canonists ready to receive him ; where, in- stead of being examined, as he expected, about his sermons, a paper was put into his hands, which he was ordered to subscribe, FOX'S MAETiRS. declaring his belief in the efficacy of masses for the souls in purgator}', of prayers to the dead saints, of pilgrimages to their sepulchres and relics, the pope's power to for- give sins, the doctrine of merit, the seven sacraments, and the worsliip of images : which, wheu he refused to :ign, the archbishop, witli a frown, ordered him to consi- der what he did. "We intend not,'' said he, " Mr. Latimer, to be hard upon you; we dismiss you for ihj SO 46 S BOOK OF MARTYRS. present ; take a copy of the ar- ticles ; examine them carefully, and God grant, that at our next meeting we may find each other in better temper." At the next, and several suc- ceeding meetings, the same scene was acted over again. He conti- nued inflexible, and they continued to distress him. Three times every week they regularly sent for him, with a view either to draw some- thing from him by captious ques- tions, or to tease him at length into compliance. Tired out with this usage, when he was again sum- moned, instead of going he sent a letter to the archbishop, in which, with great freedom, he told him, " That the treatment he had lately met with had brought him into suck a disorder as rendered him unfit to attend that day ; that in the mean time he could not help taking this opportunity to expostulate with his grace f* detaining him so long from his duty ; that it seemed to him most unacnountab-le, that they, who never pi-eached themselves, s)»ould hinder others; that, as for thfeir examinatfon of him, he really qould not imagine what they aimed at; they pretended one thing in the beginriing, and another in the progress; that if his sermons gave oAence, although he persuaded himself they were neither contrary to the truth, nor to any canon of the church, he was ready to an- swer whatever might be thought exceptionable in them ; that he wished a little more regard might be had to the judgment of the peo- ple ; and that a distinction might be made betvveen the ordinances of God and man ; that if some abuses in religion did prevail, as was then commonly supposed, he thought preaching was the best means to discountenance them ; that he wished all pastors might be obliged to perform their duty ; but that, however, liberty might be given to those who were will- i;ig ; that as to the articles pro- posed to him, he begged to be ex- cused subscribing to them ; while lie lived, he never would abet su- perstition; and that, lastly, he hoped the archbishop would ex- cuse what he had written ; he knew his duty to his superiors, and would practise it ; but in that case, he thought a stronger obligation lay upon him." The bishops, however, continued their persecutions, but their schemes were frustrated in an un- expected manner. Latimer being raised to the see of Worcester, in the year 1533, by the favour of Anne Boleyn, then the favourite wife of Henry, to whom, most pro- bably, he was recommended by lord Cromwell, he had now a more extensive field to promote the prin- ciples of tlie reformation, in which he laboured with the utmost pains and assiduity. All the historians of those times mention him as a person remarkably zealous in the discharge of his new office ; and tell us, that in overlooking the clergy of his diocese, he was un- commonly active, warm, and re- solute, and presided in his eccle- siastical court with the same spirit. In visiting, he was frequent and observant ; in ordaining, strict and wary ; in preaching, indefatigable; and in reproving and exhorting, severe and persuasive. In 1536 he received a summons to attend the parliament and con- vocation, which gave him a further opportunity of promoting the work of reformation, whereon his heart was so much set. Many alterations were made in religious matters, and a few months after, the Bible was translated into English, and recommended to a general perusal, in October, 1537. Latimer, highly satisfied with the prospect of the times, now re- paired to his diocese, having made no longer stay in London than was absolutely necessary. He had no talents, and he pretended to have none, for state aflairs. His whole ambition was to discharge the pas- toral functions of a bishop, neither aiming to display the abilities of a statesman, nor those of a courtier. How very unqualified he was to suppo;-t the latter of these charac- BISHOP LATIMER. 4G7 tcrs, the following story will prove: It was the custom in those days for the bishops to make presents to the king on New-year's day, and many of them presented very libe- rally, proportioning their gifts to their hopes and expectations. Among the rest, Latimer, being then in town, waited upon the king, with his offering; but instead of a purse of gold, which was the common oblation, he presented a New Testament, with a leaf dou- bled down in a very conspicuous manner, at this passage, " Whore- mongers and adulterers God will judge." In 1539 he was summoned again to attend the parliament: the bi- shop of Winchester, Gardiner, was his great enemy; and, upon a par- ticular occasion, when the bishops were with the king, kneeled down and solemnly accused bishop Lati- mer of a seditious sermon preached at court. Being called upon by the king, with some sternness, to vindicate himself, Latimer was so far from denying and palliating what he had said, that he nobly justified it; and turning to the king, with that noble unconcern which a good conscience inspires, *' I never thought myself worthy," said he, "nor did I ever sue to be a preacher before your grace ; but I was called to it, and would be willing, if you mislike it, to give place to my betters ; for I grant, there may be a great many more worthy of the room than I am. And if it be your grace's pleasure to allow them for preachers, 1 can be content to bear their books after them. But if your grace allow me for a preacher, 1 would desire you to give me leave to discharge my conscience, and to frame my doc- trine according to my audience. I had been a very dolt, indeed, to have preached so at the borders of your realm, as I preach before your grace." The boldness of his answer baffled his accuser's ma- lice ; the severity of the king's countenance changed into a gra- cious smile, and the bishop was dismissed with that obliging frcs- dom, which this monarch never used but to those he esteemed. However, as Latimer could not give his vote for the act of the six papistical articles, drawn up by the duke of Nortolk, he thouglit it w|ong to hold any office in a clB*(6h where such terms of com- munion were required, and there- fore he resigned his bishopric, and retired into the country, where he purposed to live a sequestered life. But in the midst of his security, an unhappy accident carried him again into the tempestuous atmo- sphere of the court: he received a bruise by the fall of a tree, and the contusion was so dangerous, that he was obliged to seek for better assistance than could be af- forded him by the unskilful sur- geons of that part of the country where he resided. With this view he repaired to London, where he had the misfortune to see the fall of his patron, the lord Cromwell: a loss which he was soon made sensible of. For Gardiner's emis- saries quickly found him out in his concealment, and a pretended charge of his having spoken against the six articles, being alleged against him, he was sent to the Tower; where, without any judi- cial examination, he suffered, through one pretence and another, a cruel imprisonment for the re- maining six years of king Henry's reign. On the death of Henry, the pro- testant interest revived under his son Edward, and Latimer, imme- diately upon the change of the go- vernment, was set at liberty. An address was made to the protector, to restore him to his bishopric: the protector was very willing to gra- tify the parliament, and proposed the resumption of his bishopric to Mr. Latimer; who now thinking himself unequal to the weight of it, refused to resume it, choosing ra- ther to accept an invitation from his friend archbishop Cranmer, and to take up his residence with him at Lambeth ; where his chief employment was to hear the com- plaints, and redress the grievances 468 BOOK OF MARTYRS, of the poor people ; and liis clia- racter, for services, of this kind, was so universally known, tliat strangers from every part of Eng- land resorted to liiui. In these employments he spent more than two years, during which time he assisted the archbishop in composing the homilies, which were set forth by authority, in the reign of king Edward: he was also appointed to preach the Lent sermons before his majesty, which office he performed during the first three years of his reign. Upon the revolution, which hap- pened at court, after the death of the duke of Somerset, he retired into the country, and made use of the king's licence as a general preacher, in those places, where he thought his labours might be most serviceable. He was thus employed during theremainder of that reign, and con- tinued the same course, for a short time, in the beginning of the next; but as soon as the re-introduction of popery was resolved on, the first step towards it was the prohibition of all preaching, and licensing only such as were known to be popishly inclined. The bishop of Winches- ter, who was now prime-minister, having proscribed Mr. Latimer from the first, sent a message to cite him before the council. He had notice of this design .some hours before the messenger's ar- rival, but he made no use of the intelligence. The messenger found him equipped for his journey, at which, expressing his surprise, Mr. Latimer told him, that he was as ready to attend him to London, thus called upon to answer for his faith, as he ever was to take any journey in his life ; and that he doubted not but that God, who had already enabled him to preach the word before two princes, would enable him to witness the same before a third. The messen- ger then acquainting him, that he had no orders to seize his person, delivered a letter, and departed. However, opening the letter, and finding it a citation from tlie coun- cil, he resolved to obey it, and set out immediately. As he passed through Smithfield, he said, cheer- fully, "This place of burning hath long groaned for me." The next morning he waited upon the coun- cil, who having loaded him with many severe reproaches, sent him to the Tower, from whence, after some time, he was removed to Oxford. Nicholas Ridley, bishop of London, received the earliest part of his education at Newcastle- upon-Tyne, from whence he was removed to the university of Cam- bridge, where his great learning and distinguished abilities, so re- commended him, that he was made master of Pembroke hall, in that university. After being some years in this ofiice he left Cambridge, and tra- velled into various parts of Europe for his advancement in knowledge. On his return to England he was made chaplain to Henry VIII. and bishop of Rochester, from which he Was translated to the see of London by Edward VI. In private life he was pious, hu- mane, and afl'able : in public he was learned, sound, and eloquent ; diligent in his duty, and very po- pular as a preacher. He had been educated in the Roman catholic religion, but was brought over to the reformed faith by reading Bertram's book on the Sacrament; and he was confirmed in the same by frequent conferen- ces with Cranmer and Peter Mar- tyr, so that he became a zealous promoter of the reformed doctrines and discipline during the reign of king Edward. , The following character of this eminent divine presents so inte- resting a picture of tlie good man and pious Christian, that we give it verbatim. " In his important offices he so diligently applied himself by preaching and teaching the true and wholesome doctrine of Christ, that no good child was more sin- gularly loved by his dear parents, BISHOP RIDLEY. 469 Ihan he by Iiis flook and diocese. Every holiday and Sunday he preaclied in one place or other, except he was otherwise hindered by weir::hty affairs and business ; and to his sermons the people re- sorted, swarming about him like bees, and so faithfully did his life pourtray his doctrines, that even his very enemies could not reprove him in any thing. "Besides this, he was very learn- ed, his memory Avas great, and he had attained such reading withal, that he deserved to be compared to the best men of his age, as his works, sermons, and his sundry disputations in both the universi- ties well testisfied. " He was, also, wise of counsel, deep of wit, and very politic in all his doings. He was anxious to gain the obstinate papists from their erroneous opinions, and sought by gentleness to win them to the truth, as his gentle and courteous treatment of Dr. Heath, who was prisoner with him in king Edward's time, ia his house, one year, sufficiently proved. In fine, he was in all points so good, pious, and spiritual a man, that England never saw his superior. " He was comely in his person, and well proportioned. He took all things in good part, bearing no malice nor rancour from his heart, but straightways forgetting all in- juries and ofl'ences done against him. He was very kind and na- tural to his relations, and yet not bearing with them any otherwise than right would require, giving them always for a general rule, j'ea to his own brother and sister, that they doing evil should look for nothing at his hand, but should be as strangers and aliens to him, and that they, to be his brother and sister, must live a good life. " He used all kinds of ways to mortify himself, and was much given to prayer and contemplation: for duly every morning, as soon as he was dressed, he went to his bed- chamber, and there upon his knees prayed for half an hour ; which being done, immediately he went to his study (if no other business came to interrupt him) where he continued till ten o'clock, and then came to the common prayer, daily used in his house. These being done he went to dinner; where he talked little, except otherwise oc- casion had been ministered, and then it was sober, discreet and wise, and sometimes merry, as cnusc required. " The dinner done, which was not very long, he used to sit an hour or thereabouts talking, or playing at chess: he then returned to his study, and there would continue, oxcept visitors, or business abroad prevented him, until five o'clock at night, when he would come to common prayer, as in the forenoon ; which being finished, he went to supper, behaving himself there as at his dinner before. After supper, recreating himself again at chess, after which he would return again to his study; continuing there till eleven o'clock at night, which was his common hour of going to bed, then saying his prayers upon his knees as in the morning when he rose. When at his manor of Ful- liam, he used to read daily a lec- ture to his family at the common prayer, beginning at the Acts of the Apostles, and so going through all the epistles of St. Paul, giving to every man that could read a New Testament, hiring them, be- sides, with money, to learn by heart certain principal chapters, but especially the 13th chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, reading also unto his household often- times the 101st Psalm, being mar- vellously careful over his family, that they might be a pattern of all virtue and honesty to others. In short, as he Avas godly and virtuous . himself, so nothing but virtue and godliness reigned in his house, feeding them with the food of our Saviour Jesus Christ. " The following is a striking in- stance of the benevolence of his temper, shewn to Mrs. Bonner, mother to Dr. Bonner, bishop of London. Bishop RidJey, when at his manor of Fulham, always sent 470 BOOK OF MARTYRS. for Mrs. Bonner, avIio dwelt in a house adjoining his own, to dinner and supper, with a Mrs. Mungey, Bonner's sister, saying, Go for my mother Bonner; who coming, was always placed in the chair at the head of the table, being as gently treated and welcomed as his own mother, and he would never have her displaced from her seat, al- tliough the king's council had been present ; saying, when any of them were there, (as several times they were) By your lordship's favour, this place of right and custom is for my mother Bonner. But how well he was recompensed for this ^singular kindness and gentle pity afterwards at the hands of Dr. Bonner, is too well known. For who afterwards was a greater enemy to Dr. Ridley than Dr. Bon- ner? Who went more about to seek his destruction than he? Recom- pensing his gentleness with ex- treme cruelty ; as well appeared by the severity against Dr. Ridley's own sister, and her husband, George Shipside, from time to time : whereas the gentleness of the other permitted Bonner's mo- ther, sister, and others of his kin- dred, not only quietly to enjoy all that which they had from bishop Bonner, but also entertained them in his house, shewing much courtesy and friendship daily unto them ; while, on the other side, Bonner being restored again, would not suffer the brother and sister of bi- shop Ridley, and other of his friends, not only not to enjoy that which they had by their brother, but also churlishly, without all order of law or honesty, wrested from them all the livings they had." On the accession of queen Mary he shared the same fate with many others who professed the truth of the gospel. Being accused of he- resy, he was first removed from his bishopric, then sent prisoner to the Tower of London, and afterwards to Bocardo prison, in Oxford ; from whence he was committed to the custody of Mr. Irish, mayor of that city, in whose house he re- mained till the day of his exe- cution. On the 30th of September, 1555, these two eminent prelates were cited to appear in the divinity- school at Oxford, which they ac- cordingly did. Dr. Ridley was first examined, and severely reprimanded by the bishop of Lincoln, because, when he heard the " cardinal's grace," and the " pope's holiness" men- tioned in the commission, he kept on his cap. The words of the bi- shop were to this eflect : " Mr. Ridley, if you will not be unco- vered, in respect to the pope, and the cardinal his legate, by whose authority we sit in commission, your cap shall be taken off." The bishop of Lincoln then made a formal harangue, in which he entreated Ridley to return to the holy mother-church, insisted on the antiquity and authority of the see of Rome, and of the pope, as the immediate successor of St. Peter. Dr. Ridley, in return, strenu- ously opposed the arguments of the bishop, and boldly vindicated the doctrines of the reformation. After much debate, the five fol- lowing articles were proposed to him, and his immediate and expli- cit answers required. 1. That he had frequently af- firmed, and openly maintained and defended, that the true natu- ral body of Christ, after consecra- tion of the priest, is not really present in the sacrament of the altar. 2. That he had often publicly aflirmed, and defended, that in the sacrament of the altar remaineth still the substance of bread and wine. .3. That he had often openly af- firmed, and obstinately maintained, that in the mass is no propitiatory sacrifice for the quick and the dead. 4. That the aforesaid assertions have been solemnly condemned by the scholastical censure of this school, as heretical, and contrary BISHOPS RIDLEY AND LATIMER. 471! to the Catholic faitli, by the pro- locutor cf llic convocation-house, and sundry learned men of both universities. 5. That all and singular the pre- mises arc true, and notoriously known, by all near at hand, and in distant places. To the lirst of tliese articles Dr. Ridley replied, " that he believed Christ's body to be in the sacra- ment, really, by grace and spirit «flectually, but not so as to in- clude a lively and moveable body under the forms of bread and wiae." To the second he answered in the affirmative. Part of the fourth he acknow- ledged, and part he denied. To the fifth he answered, "that the premises were so far true, as his replies had set forth. Whether all men spake evil of them he knew not, because he came not so much abroad to hear what every man re- ported." He was then ordered to appear the following day in St. Mary's church, in Oxford, to give his final answer ; after which he was committed to the custody of the mayor. When Latimer was brought into court, the bishop of Lincoln warmly exhorted bim to return to the unity of the church, from which he had revolted. The same articles which were proposed to Dr. Ridley were read to Latimer, and he was required to give a full and satisfactory answer to each of them. His replies not being satisfac- tory to the court, he was dismissed ; but ordered to appear in St. Mary's church, at the same time with Dr. Ridley. On the day appointed, the com- missioners met, when Dr. Ridley being first brought before them, the bishop of Lincoln stood up. and began to repeat the proceedings of the former meeting, assuring him that he had full liberty to make what alterations he pleased in his answers to the articles proposed to him, and to deliver the same to the court in writing. After some debate, Dr. Ridley took out a paper, and began to read ; but the bishop interrupted him, and ordered the beadle to take the writing from him. The doctor desired permission to read on, de- claring the contents were only his answers to the articles pro- posed ; but the bishop and others, having privately reviewed it, would not permit it to be read in open court. When the articles were again administered, he referred the no- tary to his writing, who set them down according to the same. The bishop of Gloucester affect- ing much concern for Dr. Ridley, persuaded him not to induliic an obstinate temper, but recant his erroneous opinions, and return to tJie unity of the holy Catholic church. Dr. Ridley coolly replied, he was not vain of his own understanding, but was fully persuaded, that the religion he professed was founded on God's most holy and infallible church ; and therefore, he could not abandon or deny the same, consistently with his regard for the honour of God, and the salvation of his immortal soul. He desired to declare his rea- sons, why he could not, with a safe conscience, admit of the po- pish supremacy ; but his request was denied. The bishop finding him inflexible in the faith, according to the doc- trine of the reformation, thus ad- dressed him : " Dr. Ridley, it is with the utmost concern that I ob- serve your stubbornness and obsti- nacy, in persisting in damnable errors and heresies ; but unless you recant, I must proceed to the other part of my commission, though very much against my will and desire." Ridley not making any reply, sentence of condemnation was read ; after which he was carried back to confinement. When Latimer was brought be- 472 BOOK OF MARTYRS. fore the court, the bisliop of Lin- coln informed him, that thoutjh they had already taken his an- swers to certain articles alleged against him, yet they had given him time to consider on the same, and would permit him to make what alterations he shoiild deem fit, hoping, by such means, to re- claim him from his errors, and bring him over to the faith of the holy Catholic church. The articles were again read to him, but he deviated not, in a sin- gle point, from the answers he bad already given. Being again warned to recant, and revoke his errors, he refused, declaring, that he never would deny God's truth, which he was ready to seal with his blood. Sen- tence of condemnation was then pronounced against him, and he was committed to the custody of the mayor. The account of the degradation of Ridley, his behaviour before, and at the place of execution, is curious and interesting ; we there- fore give it at length. " On the 15th day of October, in the morning. Dr. Brooks, bishop of Gloucester, and the vice-chancel- lor of Oxford, Dr. Marshall, with others of th« chief and heads of the same university, and many others accompanying them, came to the house of Mr. Irish, mayor of Oxford, where Dr. Ridley was a close prisoner. And when the bi- shop of Gloucester came into the chamber where Dr. Ridley lay, he told him for what purpose their coming was, saying, ' That yet once again the queen's majesty did offer unto him, by them, her gra- cious mercy, if he would receive it, and come home again to the faith in which he was baptized.' And further said, ' That if he would not recant and become one of the Catholic church with them, then they must needs (against their wills) proceed according to the law, which they would be very loth to do, if they might otherwise. JJut/ said he, ' we have _been of- tentimes with you, and hare fe* quested that you would recant your fantastical and devilish opi- nions, which hitherto you have not, although you might in so doing win many, and do much good. Therefore, good Mr. Ridley, con- sider with yourself the danger that shall ensue both of body and soul, if you shall so wilfully cast your- self away in refusing mercy offered unto you at this time.' *''My lord,' said Dr. Ridley, 'you know my mind fully herein: and as for my doctrine, my con- science assureth me that it was sound, and according to God's word (to his glory be it spoken); and which doctrine, the Lord God being my helper, I will maintain so long as my tongue shall move, and breath is within my body ; and in confirmation thereof I am will- ing to seal the same with my blood.' " Brooks. Well, it were best, Mr. Ridley, not to do so, but to become one of the church with us. For you know well enough, that whosoever is out of the Catholic church cannot be saved. There- fore I say, that while you have time and mercy offered you, re- ceive it, and confess with us the pope's holiness to be the chief head of the church. " Ridley. I marvel that you will trouble me with any such vain and foolish talk. You know my^mind concerning the usurped authority of that antichrist. — And here he would have reasoned with the bi- shop of Gloucester, concerning the bishop of Rome's authority, but was not suffered, and yet he spake so earnestly against the pope therein, that the bishop told him, ' If he would not hold his peace, he should be compelled. And see- ing,' saith he, ' that you will not receive the queen's mercy, but stubbornly refuse the same, we must, against our wills, proceed according to our commission to degrading and depriving you of the dignity of priesthood. For we take you for no bishop, and there- DEGRADATION OF RIDLEY. 473 fore will the sooner have done with you: so committing you to the secular power, you know what doth follow.' " Ridley. Do with me as it shall please God to suffer you; I ara well content to abide the same with all my heart. " Brooks. Put off your cap, and put upon you this surplice. " Ridley. Not I truly. " Brooks. But you must. " Ridley. I will not. " Brooks. You must ; therefore, make no more ado, but put this surplice upon you. " Ridley. Truly, if it come upon me it shall be against my will. " Brooks. Will you not put it upon you? " Ridley. No, that I will not. " Broolis. It shall be put upon you, by one or other. " Ridley. Do therein as it shall please you, I am well content with that, and more than that; the ser- vant is not above his master. If they dealt so cruelly with our Sa- viour Christ, as the Scripture mak- eth mention, and he suffered the same patiently, how much doth it become us, his servants! And in saying these words they put upon him a surplice, with all the trin- kets appertaining to the mass. As they were about this. Dr. Ridley vehemently inveighed against the Romish bishop, and all that foolish apparel, calling the first Antichrist, and the last foolish and abomina- ble, ' yea, too foolish for a device in a play.' " Brooks. You had best hold your peace, lest your mouth be stopped. — At which words one Edridge, the reader of the Greek lecture, standing by, said, ' Sir, the law is that he should be gaj?- ged, therefore let him be gagged.' At which words Dr. Ridley looking earnestly upon him, shook his head at him, and made no answer. " When they came to that place where Dr. Ridley should hold the chalice and the wafer cake (called the singing-bread), Dr. Ridley said, ' They shall not come into my hands; for if they do, they shall fall to the ground for me. Then one was appointed to hold them in his hand, while bishop Brooks read a part in Latin, touch- ing the degradation of spiritual persons, according to the pope's law. *' They then put the book into his hand, and read another thing in Latin, the effect of which was, ' We do take from thee the office of preaching the gospel,' &c. At which words Dr. Ridley gave a great sigh, and looking up towards heaven, said, * O Lord God, for- give them this their wickedness.' " Having put on him the mass- gear, they began to take it away (beginning with the uppermost garment), again reading in Latin according to the pope's law. Now when all was taken from him, sav- ing only the surplice, as they were reading and taking it away, Dr. Ridley said unto them, ' Lord God, what power be you of, that you can take from a man that which he never had? I was never a singer in all my life, and yet you will take from me that which I ne- ver had.' " So when this ridiculous degra- dation was ended very solemnly, Dr. Ridley said to Dr. Brooks, 'Have you done? If you have, then give me leave to talk a little concerning these matters.' Brooks answered, ' Mr. Ridley, we must not talk with you; you are out of the church; and our law is, that we must not talk with any out of the church.' Then Dr. Ridley said, ' Seeing that you will not suffer me to talk, neither will vouchsafe to hear me, what remed}'^ but patience? I refer my cause to my heavenly Father, who will re- form things that be amiss, when it shall please him.' " They were then going, when Ridley said, ' My lord, I would wish that yoa would vouchsafe to read over and peruse a little book of Bertram's writing, concerning the sacrament. I promise you, you will find much good learning therein, if you will read it with an impartial judgment.' To which 474 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Dr, Brooks made no answer, but was going away. Then said Dr. Eidley, ' Oh, I perceive you can- not away with this manner of talk. Well, as it is to no purpose, I will say no more ; I will speak of ■worldly affairs. I pray you there- fore, my lord, hear me, and be a means to the queen's majesty, in behalf of a great many poor men, especially my poor sister and her husband, who standeth there. They had a poor living granted unto them by me, when I was in the see of London, which is taken away from them, by him that occu- pieth the same room, without ei- ther law or conscience. I have a supplication to her majesty in their behalf. You shall hear it.' Then he read the same, and when he came to the place that spake of his sister by name, he wept; so that for a time he could not speak for weeping. But recovering himself, he said, ' This is nature, that mov- eth me, but I have now done ;' and with that he finished it, and then delivered it to his brother, commanding him to put it up to the queen's majesty, and to sue not only for himself, but also for such as had any leases or grants by him, and were put from them by Dr. Bonner. Dr. Brooks said, ' Indeed, Mr. Ridley, your request in this supplication is very right; therefore I must, in conscience, speak to the queen's majesty for them.' " Ridley. I pray for God's sake so do. " Brooks. I think your request will be granted, except one thing hinder it, and that is because you do not allow the queen's proceed- ings, but obstinately withstand the same. " Ridley. What remedy? I can do no more than speak and write. I trust I have discharged my con- science therein, and.God's will be done. " Brooks. I will do my best. " The degradation being con- cluded, and all things finished. Dr. Brooks called the bailiffs, deli- vering to them Dr. Ridley, with this charge, to keep him safely from any man speaking with him, and that he should be brought to the place of execution when they were commanded. Then Dr. Rid- ley, in praising God, said, ' God, I thank thee, and to thy praise be it spoken, there is none of you able to lay to my charge any open or notorious crime : for if you could, it would surely be done, I see very well.' Whereunto Brooks said, he played the part of a proud phari- see, exalting himself. " Dr. Ridley said, ' No, as I said before, to God's glory be it spoken. I confess myself to be a miserable sinner, and have great need of God's help and mercy, and do daily call and cry for the same : therefore I pray you have no such opinion of me.' 'Then they depart- ed, and in going away, a certain warden of a college advised Dr. Ridley to repent and forsake that erroneous opinion. ' Sir,' said the doctor, ' repent ?/oM, for you are out of the truth : and, I pray God (if it be his blessed will) have mercy upon you, and grant you the unr derstanding of his word.' Then the warden, being in a passion thereat, said, ' I trust that I shall never be of your devilish opiuionj either yet to be in that place whi- ther you shall go: thou art the most obstinate and wilful man that I ever heard talk since I was born.' " BEHAVIOUR OF DR. RIDLEY, THE NIGHT BEFORE HE SUFFERED. " On the night before he suffered, his beard was washed and his legs ; and as he sat at supper, at the house of Mr Irish, his keeper, he invited his hostess, and the rest at the tabic, to his marriage : for, said he, to-morrow I must be married, and so shewed himself to be as merry as ever he had been before. And wishing his sister at his mar- riage, he asked his brother, sitting at the table, whether he thought she could find in her heart to be there : he answered, ' Yes, I dare say, with all her heart.' At whieh he said, ' He was glad to hear of BURNING OF RIDLEY AND LATIMER. 475 her sincerity.' At this discourse Mrs. Irish wept. But Dr. Ridley comforted her, saying, ' O, Mrs. Irish, you love me not, I see well enough ; for in that you weep, it doth appear you will not be at my marriage, neither are content there- with. Indeed you are not so much my friend as I thought you had been. But quiet yourself, though my breakfast shall be somewhat sharp and painful, yet I am sure my supper will be more pleasant and sweet.' " When they arose from the table, his brother offered to stay all night with him. But he said, ' No, no, that you shall not. For I in- tend (God willing) to go to bed, and to sleep as quietly to-night, as ever I did.' On this, his brother departed, exhorting him to be of good cheer, and to take his cross quietly, lor the reward was great, &c. "burning of RIDLEY, AND LATI- MER. " On the north side of the town, in the ditch over-against Baliol-col- lege, the place of execution was appointed: and for fear of any tu- mult that might arise to hinder the burning of the servants of Christ, the lord Williams was commanded by the queen's letters, and the householders of the city to be there assistant, sufficiently appointed ; and when every thing was in readi- ness, the prisoners were brought forth by the mayor and bailiffs. " Dr. Ridley had on a black gown furred, and faced with foins, such as he used to wear when he was a bishop; a tippet of velvet furred likewise about his neck, a velvet night-cap upon his head, with a corner cap, and slippers on his feet. He walked to the stake be- tween the mayor and an alder- man, &c. " After him came Mr. Latimer in a poor Bristol frieze frock much worn, with his buttoned cap and kerchief on his head, all ready to the fire, a new long shroud hang- ing down to the feet: which at the first sight excited sorrow in the spectators, beholding, on the one side, the honour they sometime had ; and on the other, the ca- lamity into which they bad fallen. " Dr. Ridley, as he passed to- ward Bocardo, looked up where Dr. Cranmer lay, hoping to have seen him at the glass window, and spoken to him. But Dr. Cranmer was then engaged in dispute with friar Soto and his fellows, so that he could not see him through that occasion. Dr. Ridley then looking back, saw Mr. Latimer coming after. Unto whom he said, ' Oh, are you there?' — 'Yea,' said Mr. Latimer, ' have after, as fast as I can.' So he following a pretty way off, at length they came to the stake. Dr. Ridley first entering the place, earnestly held up both his hands, looked towards heaven : then shortly after seeing Mr. Lati- mer with a cheerful look, he ran to him, and embraced him, saying, ' Be of good heart, brother, for God will either assuage the fury of the flame, or else strengthen us to abide it.' " He then went to the stake, and, kneeling down, prayed with great fervour, while Mr. Latimer, follow- ing, kneeled also, and prayed as earnestly as he. After this, they arose and conversed together, and while thus employed. Dr. Smith began his sermon to them upon this text of St. Paul, in the I3th chap- ter of the first epistle to the Corin- thians: ' If I yield my body to the fire to be burnt, and have not cha- rity, I shall gain nothing thereby.' Wherein he alleged, that the good-, ness of the cause, and not the or- der of death, maketh the holiness of the person: which he confirmed by the examples of Judas, and of a woman in Oxford who of late hang- ed herself, for that they and such like as he recited, might then be adjudged righteous, which despe- rately separated their lives from their bodies, as he feared that those men who stood before him would do. But he cried still to the peo- ple to beware of them, for they were heretics and died out of the church. He ended with a very 476 BOOK OF MARTYRS. short exhortation to thera to recant and come home ag:ain to the church, and save their lives and souls, which else were condemned. His sermon scarcely lasted a quar- ter of an hour. " At its conclusion, Dr. Ridley said to Mr. Latimer, ' Will you be- gin to answer the sermon, or shall I V Mr. Latimer said, ' Begin you first, I pray you?' — ' I will/ said Dr. Ridley. " He then, with Mr. Latimer, kneeled to my lord Williams, the vice-chancellor of Oxford, and the other commissioners appointed for that purpose, who sat upon a form thereby, and said, ' I beseech you, my lord, even for Christ's sake, that I may speak but two or three words:' and whilst my lord bent his head to the mayor and vice- chancellor, to know whether he might have leave to speak, the bai- lifls, and Dr. Marshal, the vice- chancellor, ran hastily unto him, and with their hands stopping his mouth, said, ' Mr. Ridley, if you will revoke your erroneous opinions, you shall not only have liberty so to do ; but also your life.' — ' Not otherwise V said Dr. Ridley. — ' No,' answered Dr. Marshal; ' therefore if you will not do so, there is no re- medy : you must suffer for your de- serts.'— ' Well,' said the martyr, ' so long as the breath is in my bo- dy, I will never deny my Lord Christ, and his known truth : God's will be done in me :' with that he rose and said with a loud voice, ' I commit our cause to Almighty God, who will indifferently judge all.' " To which Mr. Latimer added his old saying, ' Well, there is no- thing hid but it shall be opened;' and said he could answer Smith well enough, if he might be suffer- ed. They were then commanded to prepare, immediately, for the stake. " They according with all meek- ness obeyed. Dr. Ridley gave his gown and tippet to his brother-in- law Mr. Shipside, who all the time of his imprisonment, although he was not suffered to come to him, lay there at his own charges to provide him necessaries, which from time to time he sent him by the Serjeant who kept him. Some other of his apparel he also gave away, the others the bailiffs took. " He likewise made presents of other small things to gentlemen standing by, and divers of them pi- tifully weeping; to sir Henry Lea, he gave a new groat ; to my lord Williams's gentleman, some nap- kins, &c. and happy was he who could get the least trifle for a re- membrance of this good man. " Mr. Latimer quietly suffered his keeper to pull olf his hose, and his other apparel which was very simple; and being stripped to his shroud, he seemed as comely a person as one could well see. " Then Dr. Ridley standing as yet in liis trouse, said to his bro- ther, ' It were best for me to go in ray trouse still.' — ' No,' said Mr. Latimer, ' it will put you to more pain : and it will do a poor man good.' Whereunto Dr. Ridley said, ' Be it in the name of God,' and so unlaced himself. Then be- ing in his shirt, he stood upon the aforesaid stone, and held up his hand and said, ' O heavenly Fa- ther, I give unto thee most hearty thanks, that thou hast called me to be a professor of thee, even unto death ; I beseech thee, Lord God, have mercy on this realm of Eng- land, and deliver it from all her enemies.' " Then the smith took a chain of iron, and brought it about both their middles : and as he was knocking in the staple. Dr. Ridley took the chain in his hand, and looking aside to the smith, said ' Good fel- low, knock it in hard, for the flesh will have it's course.' Then Mr. Latimer brought him a bag of gun- powder, and tied it about his neck. Dr. Ridley asked him what it was, he answered gunpowder. ' Then, said he, I will take it to be sent of God, therefore I will receive it. And have you any,' said he, ' for my brother.'' (meaning Mr. Lati- mer). ' Yea, sir, that I have,' said he. ' Then give it unto him/ said BURNING OF RIDLEY AND LATIMER. 477 he, ' in time, lest you come too late/ So his brotiier went and carried it to Mr. Latimer. " Dr. Ridley said to ray lord Wil- liams, ' My lord, I must be a suitor unto your lordship in the behalf of divers poor men, and especially in the cause of ray poor sister : I have made a supplication to the queen in their behalf. I beseech your lordship, for Christ's sake, to be a means to her grace for them. My brother here hath the supplication, and will resort to your lordship to certify you hereof. There is nothing in all the world that troubleth my conscience, (I praise God) this only excepted. Whilst I was in the see of London, divers poor men took leases of me, and agreed with me, for the same. Now I hear that the bishop who now occupieth the same room, will not allow my grants made to them, but contrary to all law and conscience, hath taken from them their livings. I beseech you, my lord, be a means for them : you shall do a good deed, and God will reward you.' " They then brought a lighted fagot, and laid it at Dr. Ridley's feet ; upon which Mr. Latimer said, * Be of good comfort, Mr. Ridley, and play the man, we shall this day light such a candle by God's grace in England, as T trust never shall be put out.' When Dr. Ridley saw the fire flaming up towards him, he cried with an amazing loud voice : ' Into thy hands, O Lord, I com- mend my spirit ; Lord, receive my spirit ;' and continued often to re- peat, ' Lord, Lord, receive my spi- rit.' Mr. Latimer, on the other side, cried as vehemently, * O fa- ther of heaven, receive my soul.' After which he soon died, seeming- ly with very little pain. " But Dr. Ridley, from the ill- making of the fire, the fagots being green, and piled to high, so that the flames being kept down by the green wood, burned fiercely be- neath, was put to such exquisite pain, that he desired them, for God's sake, to let the fire come un- to him : which his brother-in-law hearing, but not very well under- standing, to rid him out of his pain, (for which cause he gave attend- ance) us one in such sorrow, and not well knowing what he did, heaped fagots upon him, so that he quite covered him, which made the fire so vehement beneath, that it burned all his nether parts before it touched the upper, and made him struggle under the fagots, and often desire them to let the fire come to him, saying, ' I cannot burn.' Yet, in all his torment he forgot not to call upon God, still having in his mouth, ' Lord have mercy upon me,' intermingling his cry, ' Let the fire come unto me, I cannot burn.' lu which pains he laboured till one of the standers by, with his bill, pulled the fagots from above, and where he saw the fire flame up, he wrest- ed himself to that side. And when the fire touched the gunpowder, he was seen to stir no more, but burn- ed on the other side, falling down at Mr. Latimer's feet; his body being divided. " The dreadful sight filled al- most every eye with tears. Some took it grievously to see their deaths whose lives they had held so dear. Some pitied their persons, who thought their souls had no need thereof. But the sorrow of his bro- ther, whose extreme anxiety had led him to attempt to put a speedy- end to his sufl'eriogs, but who, from error and confusion, had so unhap- pily prolonged them, surpassed that of all; and so violent was his grief, that the spectators pitied him almost as much as they did the martyr." Thus did these two pious divines and steadfast believers, testify,with their blood, the truth of the ever- lasting gospel, upon which depends all the sinner's hopes of salvation ; to suQ'er for which was the joy, the glory of many eminent Christians, who, having followed their dear Lord and Master, through much tribulation in this vale of tears,will be glorified for ever with him, in the kingdom of his father and our father, of his God and our God. Mr.Latimer,at the time of his death, was in the eightieth year of his age, 478 BOOK OF MARTYRS. and preserved the principles he had professed with the most distinguish- ed magnanimity. He had natu- rally a happy temper, formed on the principles of true Christianity. Such was his cheerfulness, that none of the accidents of life could discompose him : such was his for- titude, that not even the severest trials could unman him; he had a collected spirit, and on no occasion wanted a resource ; he could retire within himself, and hold the world at defiance. And as danger could not daunt, so neither could ambition allure him : though conversant in courts, and intimate with princes, he pre- served, to the last, his primaeval plainness : in his profession he was indefatigable; and that he might bestow as much time as possible on the active part of it, he allowed himself only those hours for his pri- vate studies, when the busy world is at rest, constantly rising, at all seasons of the year, by two in the morning. How conscientious he was in the discharge of the public duties of his office, we have many examples. No man coald persuade more forcibly ; no man could exert, on proper occasions, a more com- manding severity. The wicked, in whatever station, he rebuked with censorial dignity, and awed vice by his firmness, more than the pe- nal laws by their punishments. He was not esteemed a very learned man, for he cultivated only useful learning ; and thathe thought lay in a very narrow compass. He never engaged in worldly alfairs, thinking that a clergyman ought to employ himself only in his profes- sion. Thus he lived, rather a good, than what the world calls a great man. He had not those command- ing talents which give superiority in business ; but for purity and sin- cerity of heart, for true simplicity of manners, for apostolic zeal in the cause of religion, and for every virtue, both of a public and private kind, which should adorn the life of a Christian, he was eminent beyond most men of his own, or any oth;er time. As to his sermons, which are still extant, they are, indeed, very far from being correct or elegant com- positions, yet his simplicity and low familiarity, his humour and drol- lery, were well adapted to the times ; and his oratory, according to the mode of eloquence at that day, was exceedingly popular. His action, and manner of preaching too, were very affecting ; and no wonder; " for he spoke immediate- ly from his heart." His abilities, however, as an orator, made only an inferior part of his character as a preacher. What particularly re- commends him, is that noble and apostolic zeal which he continually exerted in the cause of truth. Mr. Ridley was no less indefati- gable in promoting the reformed religion, than his fellow-sufferer Mr. Latimer. He was naturally of a very easy temper, and distin- guished for his great piety and hu- manity to the distressed. He per- severed, to the last, in that faith he had professed, and cheerfully re- signed his life in defence of the truth of the gospel. Both these worthy prelates, du- ring their confinement, employed their time in writing various pieces to propagate that gospel to which they had so strictly adhered. They also wrote great numbers of letters to their respective friends and par- ticular acquaintances. Among the pieces written by Dr. Ridley, was a farewell address to the university of Cambridge, and particularly to the members of Pem- broke-hall, of which he had been master. He also wrote addresses, of the same nature, to the cities of Rochester, (the see of which he had some time held) Westminster, and London. These are too long to be here in- serted ; but the following displays so beautifully the character of a christian that we give it entire. " TO THE PRISONERS IN THE CAUSE OF Christ's gospel, and to all WHO for the same cause are banished from their country. " Farewell, my dearly beloved brethren in Christ, both you my BISHOP RIDLEY'S ADDRESS. 479 fellow-prisoners, and you also that be exiled and banished out of your countries, because you will rathfcr forsake all worldly advantages, than the gospel of Christ. "Farewell all you together in Christ : farewell and be merry, for you know that the trial of your faith bringeth forth patience, and patience shall make us perfect, whole and sound on every side, and such, after trial, ye know, shall receive the crown of life, according to the promise of the Lord made to his dearly beloved ; let us therefore be patient unto the coming of the Lord. As the hus- bandman abideth patiently the former and latter rain for the in- crease of his crop, so let us be pa- tient, and pluck up our hearts, for the coming of the Lord approach- eth apace. Let us, my dear breth- ren, take example of patience in tribulation of the prophets, who likewise spake God's word truly in his name. Let Job be to us an example of patience, and the end which the Lord suffered, which is full of mercy and pity. We know, my brethren, by God's word, that our faith is much more precious than any corruptible gold, and yet that is tried by the fire : even so our faith is therefore tried likewise in tribulations, that it may be found, when the Lord shall appear, laudable, glorious, and honourable. For if we for Christ's cause do suffer, that is grateful before God ; for thereunto are we called, that is our state and vocation, where- with let us be content. Christ, we know, suffered for us afflictions, leaving us an example that we should follow his foot-steps ; for he committed no sin, nor was there any guile found in his mouth: when he was railed upon, and all to be reviled, he railed not again: when he was evil intreated, he did not threaten, but committed the punishment thereof to him that judgeth aright. " Let us ever have in fresh re- membrance those wonderful com- fortable sentences spoken by the mouth of our Saviour Christ ; bless- ed are they which suffer persecution for righteousness' sake, for their's is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye when men revile you, per- secute you, and speak evil against you for my sake: rejoice and be glad, for great is your reward in heaven ; for so did they persecute the prophets that were before you. Christ our master hath told us be- forehand, that the brother should put the brother to death, and the father the son, and the children should rise against their parents and kill them, and that Christ's true apostles should be hated of all men for his name's sake ; but he that abideth patiently unto the end. shall be saved. " Let us then endure in all trou- bles patiently, after the example of our master Christ, and be con- tented therewith, for he suffered, being our Master and Lord: how doth it then become us to suffer ? For the disciple is not above his master, nor the servant above his lord. It may suffice the disciple to be as his master, and the servant to be as his lord. If they have called the Father of the family, the Mas- ter of the household, Beelzebub, how much more shall they call them so of his household? Fear them not (saith our Saviour) for all hid- den things shall be made plain ; there is now nothing secret, but it shall be shewed in light. Of Christ's words let us neither be ashamed nor afraid to speak them ; for so Christ commandeth us, say- ing, What I tell you privily, speak openly abroad, and what I tell you in your ear, preach upon the house top. And fear not them which kill the body, for the soul they cannot kill ; but fear him which can cast both body and soul into hell-fire. " Know ye that our heavenly Father hath ever a gracious eye and respect toward you, and a fa- therly providence for you, so that without his knowledge and per- mission nothing can do you harm. Let us therefore cast all our care upon him, he shall provide that which shall be best for us. For if of two small sparrows, which both 480 BOOK OF MARTYRS. are sold for a mite, one of tliera ligliteth not on the ground without your Father, and all the hairs of our head are numbered, fear not them (saith our master Christ) for you are more worth than many small sparrows. And let us not stick to confess our master Christ for fear of danger, whatsoever it shall be, remembering the promise that Christ maketh, saying. Who- soever shall confess me before men, him shall I confess before my Fa- ther which is in heaven : but who- soever shall deny me, him shall I likewise deny before my Father which is in heaven. Christ came not to give us here a carnal amity, and a worldly peace, or to knit his unto the world in ease and peace, but rather to separate and divide from the world, and to join them unto himself: in whose cause we must, if we will be his, forsake fa- ther and mother, and stick unto him. If we forsake him or shrink from him for trouble or death sake, which he calleth his cross ; he will none of us, we cannot be his. If for his cause we shall lose our tem- poral lives here, we shall find them again, and enjoy them for ever- more : but if, in this cause, we will not be contented to leave nor lose them here, then shall we lose them so, that we shall never find them again, but in everlasting death. What though our troubles here are painful for the time, and the sting of death bitter and unpleasant; yet we know that they shall not last, in comparison of eternity, no not the twinkling of an eye, and that they, patiently taken in Christ's cause, shall procure and get us unmeasurable heaps of hea- venly glory, unto which these tem- poral pains of death and troubles compared, are not to be esteemed, but to be rejoiced upon. Wonder not, saith St. Peter, as though it were any strange matter that ye are tried by the fire, he meaneth of tribulation, which thing, saith he, is done to prove you ; nay, rather in that ye are partners of Christ's afflictions, rejoice that in his glo- rious revelation ye may rejoice with merry hearts. If ye suffer rebukes in Christ's name, happy are ye, for the glory and Spirit of God resteth upon you. Of them God is reviled and dishonoured, but of you he is glorified. " Let no man be ashamed of that which he suffereth as a Christian, and in Christ's cause : for now is the time that judgment and correc- tion must begin at the house of God : and if it begin first at us, what shall be the end of those, think ye, that believe not the gos- pel ? And if the righteous shall be hardly saved, the wicked and the sinner, where shall he appear? Wherefore they which are afflicted according to the will of God, let them lay down and commit their souls to him by well doing, as to a trusty and faithful Maker. This, as I said, may not seem strange to us, for we know that all the whole fraternity of Christ's congregation in this world is served with the like, and by the same is made per- fect. For the fervent love that the apostles had unto their master Christ, arid for the great advan- tages and increase of all godliness which they felt bv their faith to issue of afflictions in Christ's cause, and also for the heaps of heavenly joys which the same do get unto the godly, which shall endure in hea- ven for evermore ; for these causes (I say) the apostles did joy of their afflictions, and rejoiced in that they were had and accounted wor- thy to suffer contumelies and re- bukes for Christ's name. And St. Paul, as he glorieth in the grace and favour of God, whereunto he was brought and stood in by faith; so he rejoiced in his afflictions for the heavenly and spiritual profits which he numbered to rise upon them : yea, he was so far in love with what tl;e cardinal man loath- eth so much, that is, with Christ's cross, that he judged himself to know nothing else but Christ cru- cified : ke will glory, he saith, io nothing else but in Christ's cross, yea, and he blesseth all those as the only true Israelites, and elect people of God, with peace BISHOP RIDLEY'S ADDRESS. 48 1. and mercy, wliich walk, after that rule, and after no otlier. " O Lord, what a wonderful spi- rit was that, that made Paul, in vetting forth of himself aj^ainst the vanity of Satan's false apostles, and in his claim there, tliat he, in Christ's cause, did excel and sur- pass them all ? What wonderful spirit was that, 1 say, that made him to reckon up all his troubles, his labours, his beatings, his whippings and scourgingrs, his shipwrecks, his dangers and perils by water and by land, his famine, hunger, nakedness and cold, with many more, and the daily care of ail the congregations of ' Christ, among whom every man's pain did pierce his heart, and every man's grief was grievous unto him? Barbarities ezerci-ned by the Popish Persecutors on the Waldefises of Calabria, "O Lord, is this Paul's primacy, whereof he thought so much good thet he did excel others? Is not this Paul's saying unto Timothy his own scholar ? and dotii it not per- tain to whosoever will be Christ's true soldiers ? Bear thou, saith he, affliction, like a true soldier of Jesus Christ. This is true ; if we die with him (he meaueth Christ) we shall live with him ; if we suf- fer with bim, we shall reign with him ; if we deny him, he shall deny us ; if we be faithless, he remain- eth faithful, he cannot deny him- FOX'S MARTYRS. self. This, Paul would have known to every body ; for there is no other way to heaven but Christ and his way ; and all that will live godly in Christ, shall (saith St. Paul) suffer persecution. By this way went to heaven the patriarchs, the prophets, Christ our master, his apostles, his martyrs, and all the godly since the beginning. And as it hath been of old, that he which was born after the fleshy persecuted him who was boru after the spirit, for so it was in Isaac's time ; so said St. Paul, it 31 BOOK OF MARTYRS. was in liis time also. And whctlier it be so now or no, let tlie spiri- tual man, the self-same man I mean, that is endued with the Spi- rit of Almighty God, let him be judge. Of the cross of the patri- archs, as ye may read in their sto- ries, if ye read the book of Genesis, ye shall perceive. Of others, St. Paul in a few- words comprehend- eth much matter, speaking in a generality of the wonderful afflic- tions, death, and torments which the men of God, in God's cause, and for the truth's sake, willingly and gladly did suffer. After much particular rehearsal of many, he saith. Others were racked and de- spised, and would not be delivered, that they might obtain a better re- surrection. Others again were tried with mockings and scourg- ings, and moreover M'ith bonds and imprisonments ; they were stoned, hewn asunder, tempted, fell, and were slain upon the edge of the svv'ord ; some wandered to and fro in sheep skins, in goat skins, for- saken, oppressed, afflicted, such godly men as the world was un- worthy of, wandering in wilder- nesses, in mountains, in caves, and in dens, and all these were com- mended for their faith. And yet they abide for us the servants of God, and for those their brethren which are to be slain as they were for the word of God's sake, that none be shut out, but that we may all go together to meet our master Christ in the air at his coming, and so be in bliss with him in body and soul for evermore. *' Therefore seeing we have so much occasion to suffer, and to take afllictioiis for Christ's name's sake patiently, so many advantages thereby, so weighty causes, so many good examples, so great necessity, so pure promises of eternal life and heavenly joys of him that can- not lie : let us throw away what- ever might hinder us, all burden of sin, and all kind of carnality, and patiently and constantly let us run for the best game in this race that is set before us, ever having our eyes upon Jesus Christ, the captain and perfecter of our faith, who, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, not minding the shame and igno- miny thereof, and is set now at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider this, that he suffered such strife of sinners against himself, that ye should not give over nor faint in your minds. As yet, bre- thren, we have not withstood unto death fighting against sin. Let us never forget, dear brethren, for Christ's sake, that fatherly exhorta- tion of the wise man that speaketh unto us, as unto his children, the godly wisdom of God, saying thus ; My son, despise not the correction of the Lord, nor fall from him when thou art rebuked of him ; for whom the Lord loveth, him doth he cor- rect, and scourgeth every child whom he receiveth. What child is he whom the father doth not chasten ? Tf ye be free from chas- tisement, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards and no chil- dren. Seeing then, when as we have had carnal parents which chastened us, we reverenced them, shall not we much more be subject unto our spiritual Father that we might live ? And they for a littl'6 time have taught us after their own mind, but this Father teacheth us to our advantage, to give unto us his holiness. All chastisement for the present time appeareth not pleasant but painful ; but afterwards it ren- dereth the fruit of righteousness on them which are exercised in it. Wherefore let us be of good cheer, good brethren, and let us pluck up our feeble members that were fallen or begun to faint, heart, hands, knees, and all the rest, and let us walk upright and straight, that no limping nor halting bring us oti't 6f the Avay. Let us not look upon the things that be present ; but, with the eyes of our faith, let us steadfastly behold the things that be everlasting in heaven, and so choose rather in respect of that which is to come, with the chosen members of Christ to bear Christ's cross, than for this short life-time enjoy all the riches, honours, and BISHOP RIDLEY'S ADDRESS. 483 pleasures of the broad world. Why should we Christians fear death? Can death deprive us of Christ, which is all our comfort, our joy, and our life? Nay, for- sooth. But contrary, death shall deliver us from this mortal body, which loadeth and bcareth down the spirit, that it cannot so well per- ceive heavenly things; in which so long as we dwell, we are absent from God. " Wherefore understanding our state in that we be Christians, that if our mortal body, which is our earthly house, were destroyed, we have a building, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens, therefore we are of good cheer, and know that when we are in the body, we are absent from God; for we walk by faith, and not by sight. Nevertheless we are bold, and had rather be absent from the body, and present with God. Where- fore we strive, whether we be pre- sent at home, or absent abroad, that we may always please him: and who that hath true faith in our Saviour Christ, whereby he know- eth somewhat truly what Christ our Saviour is, that he is the eter- nal Son of God, life, light, the wis- dom of the Father, all goodness, all righteousness, and whatsoever is good that heart can desire, yea, infinite plenty of all these, above what man's heart can either con- ceive or think (for in him dwelleth the fulness of the Godhead corpo- rally), and also that he is given us of the Father, and made of God to be our wisdom, our righteousness, our holiness, and our redemption: who (I say) is he that believeth this indeed, that would not gladly be with bis master Christ? Paul for this knowledge coveted to have been loosed from the body, and to have been with Christ, for he counted it much better for himself, and had rather be loosed than to live. Therefore, these words of Christ to the thief on the cross, that asked of hiiu mercy, were full of comfort and solace: 'This day thou shalt be with me in paradise.' To die in the defence of Christ's gospel, it is our bounden duty to Christ, and also to our neighbour. To Christ, because he died for us, and rose again that he might be Lord over all. And seeing he died for us, we also, saith St. John, should hazard, yea give our life for our brethren, and this kind of giving and losing, is getting and winning indeed: for he that giveth or loseth his life thus, getteth and winneth it for evermore. Blessed are they therefore that die in the Lord, and if they die in the Lord's cause, they are most happy of all. Let us nottlen fear death, which can do us no harm, otherwise than for a moment to make the flesh to smart; but that our faith, which is fastened and fixed upon the word of God, telleth us that we shall be anon after death in peace, in the hands of God, in joy, in solace, and that from death we shall go straight unto life. For St. John saith. He tliat liveth, and believeth in me, shall never die. And in another place, He shall depart from death unto life. And therefore this death of the Christian is not to be called death, but rather a gate or entrance into everlasting life. Therefore, Paul calleth it but a dissolution and change, and both Peter and Paul, a putting off thi» tabernacle or dwelling house: meaning thereby the mortal body, as wherein the soul or spirit doth dwell here in this world for a smalt time. Yea, this my death may be called, to the Christian, an end of all miseries. For so long as we live here, we must pass through many tribulations before we cam enter into the kingdom of heaven. And now, after that death hath shot his bolt, all the Christian man's enemies have done what they can; after that they have no more to do. What could hurt or harm poor Lazarus that lay at the rich man's gate? his former penury and poverty? his misery, .beggary, and horrible sores and sickness? No ; as soon as death had struck him with his dart, so soon came the angels, and carried him straight up into Abraham's boaom. What 484 BOOK OF MARTYRS. lost he by death, who from misery and pain was conducted, by the mi- nistry of angels, into a place of joy and felicity? " Farewell, dear brethren, fare- well; let ns comfort our hearts in all troubles, and in death, with God's word, for heaven and earth shall perish, but the word of the Lord endureth for ever. " Farewell, Christ's dearly be- loved spouse, here wandering in this world in a strange land, en- compassed about with deadly ene- mies, who see thy destruction. '' Farewell, farewell, O ye, the whole universal congregation of the chosen of God here living upon earth, the true church militant of Christ, the true mystical body of Christ, the very household and fa- mily of God, and the sacred tem- ple of the Holy Ghost, farewell. " Farewell, O thou little tlock of the high heavenly pastors of Christ, for to you it hath pleased the heavenly Father to give an everlasting and eternal kingdom. Farewell. " Farewell, thou spiritual house of God, thou holy and royal priest- hood, thou chosen generation, thou holy nation, thou won spouse. Farewell, farewell." SECTION XTI. PERSECUTIONS, DEATHS, AND MARTYRDOMS OF JOHN WEBB, GEORGE ROPER, GREGORY PARKE, WILLIAM" WISEMAN, JAMES GORE, AND JOHN PHILPOT. MARTYRDOMS OF JOHN WEBB, GEORGE ROPER, AND GREGORY PARKE, AT CANTERBURY. Mr. Webb was brought before Nicholas Harpsfield, or his deputy, at Dover, on the 16th of Septem- ber, and there had propounded unto him such articles as were commonly administered by Bon- ner to those of his jurisdiction. Being advised for the present to depart, and deliberate with him- self upon the matter, against his next appearance; he answered, " That he would say no otherwise (by God's grace) than he had al- ready said, which was, that the sa- crament was simply a commemo- ration of the death of the Lord for his church; and that the bread and wine underwent no transforma- tion." After this, on the 3d of October, and at several other times, Mr. John Webb, George Roper, and Gregory Parke, were all brought to- gether before the said judge; and all of them steadfastly adhering to the answer made before by Mr. Webb, were adjudged heretics ; and, in consequence, about the end of the same month, they were brought out of prison together to the place of martyrdom; praying and re- peating psalms in their way. Being brought to the stake, and there fastened with a chain, they were burnt all together in one fire at Canterbury, most patiently en- during their torments, and account- ing themselves happy and blessed of the Lord that they were made worthy to suffer for his sake. DEATH OF WILLIAM WISEMAN, AND OF JAMES GORE. On the 13th of December, Wil- liam Wiseman, a cloth-worker of London, died in Lollards'-tower, where he had been confined on ac- count of his adherence to the gos- pel. It was suspected that he had been starved to death; but the truth of this could not be ascer- tained. After his death, the papists cast him out into the fields, as was their usual custom with such of the protestants as expired under their hands, commanding that no man should bury him. Notwithstand- ing their merciless commands, some pious Christians buried him in the evening, as commonly they did all the rest thrown out in like manner, singing psalms together at their burial. In the same month also, James Gore, imprisoned aad in bonds for his resistance of the popish abomi- JOHN PHILPOT. 485 nations, died in prison at Colches- ter. HISTORY AND MARTYRDOM OF MR. JOHN PHILPOT. Mr. Pliilpot was of a family hif^hly respectable (his father be- irm: a knight), and was born in Hampshire. He was brouglit up at New Colleg:e, Oxford, where he studied civil law and other branches of liberal education, par- ticularly the learned lang;uages, and became a great proficient in the Hebrew. He was accom- plished, courageous, and zealous; ever careful to adorn his doctrine by his practice; and his learning is fully evinced by what he has left on record. Desirous to travel, he went over to Italy, andjourneying from Venice to Padua, he was in danger, through a Franciscan friar, who a-ccompa- nied him, and, at Padua, sought to accuse him of heresy. At length returning into England, uncor- rijpted in his morals, and strength- ened in his f^ith, by beholding the monstrous absurdities and innu- merable iniquities of Antichrist in his strong hold, and finding that the time permitted more boldnesp unto him, it being the reign of king Edward, he had several conflicts with bishop Gardiner in the city of Winciiester. After that, he was made arch- deacon of Winchester, under Dr. Poinet, who then succeeded Gar- diner in that bishopric, and here he continued during the reign of king Edward, to the great profit of those whom his office placed under his care. When the pious prince above named was taken away, and Mary, his sister, succeeded, her study was wholly to alter the state of religion in England: and first, she caused a convocation of the prelates and other retainers of her faith, to be assembled for the ac- complishment of her desire. In this convocation, Mr. Philpot, according to his degree, with a few others, sustained the cause of the gospel against the adversary, for which, notwithstanding the li- berty the house had promised be- fore, he was called to account be- fore the chancellor, by whom he was first examined. From thence again he was removed to bishop Bonner, and other commissioners, with whom he had divers conflicts, as may appear by the following ex- aminations, the account of which was written by himself. HIS FIRST EXAMINATION BEFORE THE COMMISSIONERS, AT NEW- GATE SESSIONS-HALL, OCT. 2, 1555. " Before I was called into an inner parlour, Avhere the commiS' sioucrs sat. Dr. Story came into the hall where I was, to view me among others who were there; and passing by me, he grossly ob- served, that I was well fed in- deed. Philpot. Mr. Doctor, it is no marvel, since I have been stalled up in prison these twelve months and a half. Story. We hear thou art a sus- pected person, and of heretical opinions, and therefore we have sent for thee. Philpot. I have been in prison thus long, only upon the occasion of disputation made in the convo- cation-house, and upon suspicion of setting forth the report thereof. Story. If thou wilt revoke the same, and become an honest man, thou shalt be set at liberty, and do well ; or else thou shalt be com- mitted to the bishop of London. How sayest thou, wilt thou re- voke ? Philpot. 1 have already answered in this behalf to mine ordinary. Story. If thou answerest thus when thou comest before us anon, thou shalt hear more of our minds; and with that he went into the par- lour, and I a little while after was called in. The Scribe. Sir, what is your name? Philpot. My name is John Phil- pot. And so he entitled my name. Story. This man was archdeacon of Winchester, of Br. Foinet's presentment. 4S5 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Philpot. I was archdeacon in- deed, but none of his presentment ; but by virtue of a former advowson given by my lord chancellor that now is. ^ Sto7'y. You may be assured tnw my lord chancellor would not make any such as he is archdea- con. Roper. Come hither to me, Mr. Philpot. We hear that you are out of the catholic church, and have been a disturber of the same ; out of which whoso is, he cannot be the child of salvation. Where- fore if you will come into the same, you shall be received and find fa- vour. Philpot. I am come before your worshipful masterships at your ap- pointment, understanding that you are magistrates authorized by the queen's majesty, whom I own and will do my due obedience unto the uttermost. Wherefore I desire to know what cause I have offended in, for which I am now called before you. And if I cannot be charged with any particular matter done contrary to the laws of this realm, I desire of you that I may have the benefit of a subject, and be de- livered out of my wrongful impri- sonment, where I have lain a year and a half, without any calling to answer before now, and my living taken from me without law. Roper. Though we have no par- ticular matter to charge you withal, yet we may, by our commission, and by the law, drive you to an- swer to the suspicion of a slander going on you: and besides this, we have statutes to charge you herein withal. Philpot. If I have offended any statute, charge me therewithal, and if I have incurred the penalty thereof, punish me accordingly. And because you are magistrates and executors of the queen's laws, by force whereof you now sit, I de- sire that if I be not found a trans- gressor of any of them, I may not be burthened with more than I have done. Cholmley. .If the justice do sus- pect a felon, b© may examine him upon suspicion thereof, and commit him to prison, though there be no fault done. Story. I perceive whereabout this man goeth : he is plain in Card- maker's case, for he made the same allegations. But they will not serve thee ; for thou art an heretic, and boldest against the blessed mass: how sayest thou to that? Philpot. I am no heretic. Story. I will prove thee an here- tic. Whosoever hath held against the blessed mass is an heretic: but thou hast held against the same, therefore thou art an heretic. Philpot. That which I spake, and which you are able to charge me withal, was in the convocation, where, by the queen's majesty's will and her whole council, liberty was given to every man of the house to utter his conscience, and to speak his mind freely of such questions in religion as there were propounded by the prolocutor ; for which now I thought not to be molested and imprisoned as I have been, neither now to be compelled by you to answer for the same. Story. Thou shalt go to Lollards* Tower, and be handled there like an heretic as thou art, and answer to the same that thou there didst speak, and be judged by the bishop of London. Philpot. Sir, you know it is against all equity, that I should be twice vexed for one cause, and that by such as by the law have nothing to do with me. Roper. You cannot deny, but that you spoke against the mass in the convocation-house. Story. Dost thou deny that which thou spakest there or no? Philpot. I cannot deny that I have spoken there, and if by the law you may put me to death for it, I am here ready to suffer what- soever I shall be judged unto. The Scribe. This man is fed of vain-glory. Cholmley. Play the wise gentle- man and be conformable, and be not stubborn in your opinion, nei- ther cast yourself away. I would be glad to do you good. JOHN PHILPOT. 4g7 Philpnt. I desire you, sir, with the rest here, that I be not charged further at your hands, than the law chargeth me, for what I have done, since there was no law directly against that wherewith I am now charged. And you, Mt. Doctor, (of old acquaintance in Oxford) I trust will shew me some friendship, and not extremity. Story. I tell thee, if thou wouldst be a good catholic I would spend my gown to do thee good ; but I will be no friend to an heretic, as thou art, but will spend both my gown and my coat, but I will burn thee. How sayest thou to the sa- crament of the altar ? Philpot. I am not come now to dispute, and the time serveth not thereto, but to answer to that I may be lawfully charged withal. Storif. Well, since thou wilt not revoke that thou hast done, thou shalt be had into Lollards' Tower. Philpot. Sir, since you will needs shew me this extremity, and charge me with ray conscience, I desire to see your commission, whether you have this authority so to do. Story. Shall we let every vile per- son see our commission? Let him lie in the Lollard's Tower; for I will sweep the King's Bench, and all other prisons also, of these he- retics; they shall not have that resort as they have had, to scatter their heresies. Philpot. I mind not whither you commit me, for I cannot be worse used than I am. Story. Marshal, take him home with you again, and see that you bring him again on Thursday. Philpot. God hath appointed a day shortly to come, in which he will judge us j.with righteousness, however you judge of us now. Roper. Shew yourself a catholic man. Philpot. Sir, if I should speak otherwise than my conscience is, I should but dissemble with you : and why be you so earnest to have me shew myself a dissembler both to God and you, which I cannot do ? Roper. We do not require you to dissemble with us to be a catholic man. Philpot. If I do stand in any thing against that, wherein any mjia is able to burthen me with one jlrfof the scripture, I shall be con- tent to be counted no catholic man, or an heretic, as you please. Story. This man is like his fellow Woodman, who the other day would have nothing but scripture. And this is the beginning of the tragedy. On the 24th of October, he was again brought before the same par- ty, and experienced from them the most harsh, illiberal, and vulgar treatment. On demanding the ful- filment of their promise in being shewn their commission, the scribe, in compliance, began to open it, when Dr. Cook, now added to their number, exclaimed, Cooh. Fie, what will ye do? he shall not see it. Philpot. Then you do me wrong, to call me and vex me, not shew- ing your authority in this behalf. Cook. If we do you wrong, com- plain of us ; and in the mean time thou shalt lie in the Lollards' Tower. Philpot. Sir, I am a poor gentle- man; therefore I trust that you will not commit me to so vile a place, being no heinous trespasser. Cook. Thou art no gentleman. Philpot. Yes, I am. Cook. An heretic is no gentleman ; for he is a gentleman that hath gentle conditions. Philpot. The olfence cannot take away the state of a gentleman as long as he liveth, although he were a traitor: but I mean not to boast of my gentlemanship, but I will put it under my foot, since you do no more esteem it. Story. What, will you suffer this heretic to prate all day? Cook. He saith he is a gentle- man. Story. A gentleman, said he? he is a vile heretic knave: for a here- tic is no gentleman. Let the keep- er of the Lollards' Tower come in, and have him away. Keeper. Here, sir. 48B BOOK OF MARTYRS. Story. Take this man with you to the Lollards' Tower, or else to the bishop's coal-house. Philpot. Sir, if I were a dog, you could not appoint me a worse nor more vile place : but T must be content with whatsoever injury you do ofler me. God give you a more merciful heart ; you are very cruel upon one that hath never offended you. I pray you, Mr. Cholmley, shew me some friendship that I may not be carried to so vile a place. On this Mr. Cholmley call- ed me aside, and said : I neither understand their doings nor their laws ; I cannot tell what they mean. I would I could do you good- After this, I with four others was brought to the keeper's house in Paternoster-row, where we supped, and after supper I was called up to a chamber by a servant of the archdeacon of London, and that in his master's name, who offered me abed for the night. I thanked him, and said. That it would be a grief to me to lie one night well and the next night worse : where- fore, said I, 1 will begin as I am likely to continue, to take such part as my fellows do. And with that we were brought through Pa- ternoster-row to my lord of Lon- don's coal-house ; unto which was joined a little dark house, with a great pair of stocks, both for hand and foot; and there we found a minister of Essex, a married priest, a man of godly zeal, with one other poor man. The minister at my coming desired to speak with me, telling me that he greatly lamented his infirmity, for that through extremity of imprisonment he had been constrained by writing to yield to the bishop of London : whereupon he had been set at li- berty, and afterwards felt such a hell in his conscience, that he could scarce refrain destroying himself, and never could be at quiet until he went to the bishop's register, desiring to see his bill again ; vrhich as soon as he received, he tore it in pieces, after which he was ojfal as any man. When my lord of London understood this, he sent for him, and fell upon him like a lion, and buffeted him, so that he made his face black and blue ; and plucked away a great piece of his beard. HIS EXAMINATION BEFORE BISHOP BONNEK. The second night of my impri- sonment in his coal-house, the bi- shop sent Mr. Johnson his register to me with a mess ofimeat, and a good pot of drink and some bread, saying, That he had no knowledge before of my being here, for which he was sorry : therefore he had sent me and my fellows that meat, not knowing whether I would re- ceive the same. I thanked God for his lordship's charity, that it pleased him to re- member poor prisoners, desiring the Almighty to increase the same in him, and in all others ; and that I would not refuse his beneficence, and therewith took the same unto my brethren. Johnson. My lord would know the cause of your being sent hither (for he is ignorant thereof), and wondereth that he should be trou- bled with prisoners that are not of his own diocese. On this I declar- ed unto him the whole cause. After which he said, that my lord's will was, I should have any friend- ship I would desire, and so de- parted. Within a while after, one of my lord's gentlemen came for me ; and brought me into his presence, where he sat at a table with three or four of his chaplains waiting upon him, and his register. Bonner. Mr. Philpot, you are welcome ; give me your hand. (Which I did.) Then said he, I'^am sorrry for your trouble, and promise you that till within these two hours, I knew not of your being here. I pray you tell me the cause : for I promise you I know nothing there- of as yet, and marvel that other men will trouble me with their matters; but I must be obedient to my betters, and I fear men JOHN PHILPOT. 489 speak othenvise of me than I de- serve. I told him, that it was for the ilisputation in the convocation- lioiisc, for M'hich I was against all ris;ht molested. Bomier. I marvel that you sliould be troubled for that, if there was no other cause. But perad- venture you have maintained the same since, and some of your friends of late have asked, whe- ther you do stand to the same, and you liave said, yea ; and for this you might be committed to pri- son. Philpot. If it shall please your lordship I am burdened no other- wise than I have told you, by the commissioners who sent me hither, because I would not recant the same. Bonner. A man may speak in the parliament-house, though it be a place of free speech, so as he may be imprisoned for it, as in case he speak words of high-trea- son against the king and queen; and so it might be that you spake otherwise than it became you of the church of Christ. Philpot. T spake nothing which was out of the articles which were called in question, and agreed upon to be disputed by the whole house, and by permission of the queen and council. Bonner. Why, may we dispute of our faith ? Philpot. That we may. Bonner. Nay, I think not, by the law. Philpot. Indeed, by the civil law I know it is not lawful, but by God's law we may reason thereof. For St. Peter saith, " Be ye ready to render account unto all men of the hope which is in you," Bonner. Indeed, St. Peter saith so. Why, then I ask of you what your judgment is of the sacrament of the altar? Philpot. My lord, St. Ambrose saith, that the disputation of faith ought to be in the congregation, in the hearing of the people, and that I am not bound to render account tfaereof to every man privately, un- less it be to edify. But now I can- not shew you my mind, but I must run upon the pikes in danger of my life for it. Wherefore, as the said doctor said unto Valentinian the emperor, so say I to your lord- ship ; Take away the law, and I shall {reason with you. And yet if I come in open judgment, where I am bound by the law to answer, I trust I shall utter my conscience as freely as any. Bonner. I perceive you are learned ; I would have such as you about me. But you must come and be of the church, for there is but one church. Philpot. God forbid I should be out of the church ! I am sure I am within the same : for I know, as I am taught by the scripture, that there is but one Catholic church, one dove, one spouse, one beloved congregation, out of which there is no salvation. Bonner. How chanceth it then, that you go out of the same, and walk not with us ? Philpot. My lord, I am sure I am within the bounds of the church whereupon she is built, which is the word of God. Bonner. What age are you of? Philpot. I am four-and-forty. Bonner. You are not now of the same faith your godfathers and godmothers promised for you, in which you were baptized. Philpot. Yes, I am : for I was baptized into the faith of Christ, which I now hold. Bonner. How can that be ? there is but one faith. Philpot. I am assured of that by St. Paul, saying, " That there is but one God, one faith, and one baptism," of which I am. Bonner. You were, twenty years ago, of another faith than you are now. Philpot. Indeed, my lord, to tell you plain, I was then of no faith ; a neuter, a wicked liver, neither hot nor cold. Bonner. Why, do you not think that we have now the true faith ? Philpot. I desire your lordship to hold me excused for answering 4go BOOK OF MARTYRS. at this time. I am sure that God's word was thoroughly with the pri- mitive church. Bonner. Well, I promise you I mean you no hurt. I will not there- fore burden you with your con- science now ; I marvel that you are so merry in prison as you are, singing and rejoicing, as the pro- phet saith. Rejoicing in your naugh- tiness. Methinks you do not well herein ; you should rather lament and be sorry. Philpot. My lord, the mirth that we make is but in singing certain psalms, according as we are com- manded by St. Paul, willing us to be merry in the Lord, singing toge- ther in hymns and psalms : and I trust your lordship cannot be dis- pleased with that. We are, my lord, in a dark com- fortless place, and therefore it be- hoveth us to be merry, lest, as So- lomon saith, sorrowfulness eat up our heart. Bonner. I will trouble you no farther now. If I can do you any good, I shall be glad. God be with you, good Mr. Philpot, and good night. Take him to the cel- lar, and let him drink a cup of wine. Thus I departed, and by my lord's register I was brought to his cellar door, where I drank a good cup of wine. And my lord's chap- lain, Mr. Cousin, followed me, making acquaintance, saying that I was welcome, and wished that I would not be singular. Philpot. I am well taught the contrary by Solomon, saying, " Wo be to him that is alone." After that I was carried to my lord's coal-house again, where I with my six companions housed together in straw as cheerfully as others in their beds of down. FOURTH KXAMINATION OF MR. PHIL- POT, BKrORK THli BISHOPS OF LONDON, BATH, WORCESTEK, AND GLOUCESTER. Bonner. Mr. Philpot, it hath pleased my lords to take pains here to-day, to dine with my poor archdeacon, and in the dinner-time it chanced us to have communica- tion of you, and you were pitied here by many who knew you at New College in Oxford. And I also do pity your case, because you seem unto me, by the talk I had with you the other night, to be learned : and therefore now I have sent for you to come before them, that it might not be said hereafter, that I had so many learned bishops at my house, aud yet would not vouchsafe them to talk with you, and at my request (I thank them) they are content so to do. Now therefore utter your mind freely, and you shall with all favour be satisfied. I am sorry to see you lie in so evil a case as you do, and would fain you should do better, as you may if you please. Bath. My lords here lia\e not sent for you to fawn upon you, but for charity sake to exhort you to come into the right Catholic church. Worcester. Before he beginneth to speak, it is best that he call upon God for grace, and to pray that it might please God to open his heart, that he may conceive the truth. Philpot. With that I fell down upon ray knees before them, and made my prayer on this manner : " Almighty God, who art the giver of all wisdom and under- standing, I beseech thee of thine infinite goodness and mercy in Jesus Christ, to give me (a most vile sinner in thy sight) the spirit of wisdom to speak and make an- swer in thy cause, that it may be to the satisfaction of the hearers, be- fore whom I stand, and also to my better understanding if I be de- ceived in any thing." Bonner. Nay, my lord of Wor- cester, you did not well to exhort him to make any prayer. For this is the thing they have a singular pride in, that they can often make their vain prayers, in which they glory much. For in this point they are much like to certain ar- rant heretics, of whom Pliny maketh mention, that did daily sing JOHN PHILPOT. 491 praise unto God before dawning of the day. Philpot. My lord, God make me and all you here present such he- retics as those were that snne word that he spake, shall he judge in the latter day." Gloucester. What if yow take the word one way and / another way; who shall be judge then? Philpot. The primitive church. Gloucester. I know you mean the doctors that wrote thereof. Philpot. I mean verily so. Gloucester. What if you take the doctors in one sense, and I in another; who shall be judge then? Philpot. Then let that be taken which is most agreeable to God's word. Worcester. Thou art the arro- gantest fellow that ever I knew. Philpot. I pray your lordship to bear with my hasty speech ; it is part of my corrupt nature to speak somewhat hastily : but for all that, I mean with humility to do my duty to your lordship. Bonner. Mr. Philpot, my lords will trouble you no further at this time, but you shall^^o hence to the place whence you came, and have such favour as in the mean while I can shew you; and upon Wed- nesday next you shall be called vipon again, to be heard what you can say for the maintenance of your error. Philpot. My lord, my desire is to be satisfied of you in that I re- quired; and your lordship shall find me as I have said. Worcester. God send you more grace. Philpot. And increase the same in you, and open your eyes, that you may see to maintain his truth, and his true church. Then the bishops rose, and after consulting together, caused a writ- ing to be made, in which I think my blood by them was bought and sold, and thereto they put theii" hands ; after which I was carried to my coal-house again. THE FIFTH EXAMINATION OF MR. PHILPOT BEFORE THE BISHOPS OF LONDON, ROCHESTER, ST. ASAPH, AND OTHERS. Bonner. Mr. Philpot, come you hither; I have desired my lords here, and other learned men, to take some pains once again to do you good, and because I do mind to sit in judgment on you to-mor- row, as I am commanded, yet I would you should have as much favour as I can shew you, if you will be any thing conformable ; therefore play the wise man, and be not singular in your own opi- nion, but be ruled by these learned men. Philpot. My lord, in that you say you will sit on me in judgment to-morrow, I am glad thereof: for I was promised by them which sent^ me unto you, that I should have been judged the next day after: but promise hath not been kept with me, to my farther grief. I look for none other but death at your hands, and I am as ready to yield my life in Christ's cause, as you are to require it. Having argued some time upon questions of civil law, the subject of papal supremacy was resumed. St. Asaph. It is most evident that St. Peter did build the Catho- lic church at Rome. And Christ said, " Thou art Peter, and upon this rock will I build my church." Moreover the succession of bishops in the see of Rome can be proved from time to time, as it can be of none other place so well, which is a manifest probation of the Catho- lic church, as divers doctors do write. Philpot. That you would have to be undoubted, is most uncertain, and that by the authority which you allege of Christ, saying unto Peter, " Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church," unless you can prove that rock to signify Rome, as you would make me falsely believe. And although you can prove the succession of JOHN PHILPOT. 495 bishops from Peter, yet this is not sufficient to prove Home the Ca- tholic churcli, unless you can prove the profession of Peter's faith, whereupon the Catholic churcii is built, to have continued in his suc- cessors at Rome, and at this pre- sent to remain*. Bonner. Are there any more churches than one Catholic church J And I pray you tell me into what faith were you baptized ? Philpot. I acknowledge one holy Catholic and apostolic church, whereof I am a member (I praise God), and am of that Catholic faith of Christ, whereinto I was baptized. Coventry. I pray, can yOTi tell what this word Catholic doth sig- nify? Philpot. Yes, I can, thank God. The Catholic faith, or the Catholic church, is not, as the people are taught, tiiat which is most univer- sal, or by most part of men re- ceived, whereby you infer our faith to hang upon the multitude ; but I esteem tlie Catholic church to be as St. Austin detineth: " We judge," saith he, " the Catholic faith, of that which hath been, is, and shallhe." So that if you can be able to prove that your faith and church hath been from the beginning taught, and is, and shall be, then you may count yourselves Catholic, otherwise not. And Catholic is a Greek word, compounded of hata, which signifieth, after, or accord- ing, and /to/on, a sum, or principle, or whole. So that catholic • This unanswerable argument, we see, was evaded by the bishops; as it always is by the professors of popery — they rely upon the mere succession of bishops as being sufficient to prove that they are in every respect the same, whereas nothing can be more fallacious: as well might the followers of the impos- tor Mahomet be considered as the succes- sors of the apostles, because tliey have usurped the country sanctified by the la- bours of the first followers of our blessed Lord. And, in truth, their tenets differ not much more widely from real and ge- nuine Christianity than those of the up- holders of papacy and superstition. CHLRCH, or CATHOLIC FAITH, is as much as to say, the first, whole, sound, or chief faith. Bonner. Dutli St. Austin say so as he allegeth it ? or doth he mean as he taketh the same ? How say you, Mr. Curtop ? Curtop. Indeed, my lord, St. Austin hath such a saying, speak- ing against the Donatists, that the Catholic faith ought to be esteemed of things in time past, and as they are practised according to the same, and ought to be through all ages, and not after a new ma'nner as the Donatists began to profess.' Philpot. You have said well, Mr. Curtop, and after the meaning' of St. Austin, and to confirm that which I have said for the significa- tion of Catholic. Coventry. Let the book be seen, my lord. Bonner. I pray you, my lord,, be content, or in good faith I will break even off, and let all alone. Do you think that the Catholic church (until within these few years, in which a few upon singularity have swerved from the same) hath erred ? Philpot. I do not think that tho Catholic church can err in doctrine; but I require you to prove this church of Rome to be the Catholic church. Curtop. I can prove that Ircnaeus (which was within an hundred years after Christ) came to Victor, then bishop of Rome, to ask his advice about the excommu- nication of certain heretics, whicn (by all likelihood) he would not have done, if he had not taken him to be supreme head. Coventry. Mark well this ar- gument. How are you able to answer the same ? Answer if you can. Philpot. It is soon answered, my lord, for that is of no force ; neither doth this fact of Irenaeus make any more for the supremacy of the bishop of Rome, than mine hath done, who have been at Rome as well as he, and might have spoken with the pope if I had 496 BOOK OF MARTYRS. listed ; and yet I would none in England did favour his supremacy more than I. St. Asaph. You are more to blame (by the laith of my body) for that you favour the same no better, since all Ihe Catholic church (until these few years) have taken him to be the supreme head of the church, besides this good man Irenieus. Philpot. That is not likely, that Irena^us so took him, or the primitive church : for I am able to shew seven oeneral councils after Trenseus's time, wherein he was never taken for supreme head. The other Bishop. This man will never be satisfied, say what we can. It is but folly to reason any more with him. Philpot. O, my lords, would you have me satisfied with no- thing? Judge, I pray jou, who hath better authority, he which bringeth the example of one man going to Rome, or I that by these many general councils am able to prove, that he was never so taken in many hundred years after Christ, as by Nicene, Ephesine, the first and second Chalcedon, Constan- tinopolitan, Carthaginese, Aqui- lense. Coventry. Why will you not ad- mit the church of Rome to be the Catholic church? Philpot. Because it followeth not the primitive Catholic church, neither agreeth with the same. Coventry. Wherein doth it dis- sent? Philpot. It were too long to recite all, but two things I will name, supremacy and transubstan- tiation. Dr. Saverson. I wonder you will stand so steadfast in your error, to your own destruction. Philpot. I am sure we are in no error, by the promise of Christ made to the faithful once, which is, that he will give to his true church such a spirit of wisdom, that the adversaries thereof should never be able to resist. And by this I know we are of the truth, for that neither by reasoning, neither by writing, your synagogue of Rome is able to answer. Where is there one of you all that ever hath been able to answer any of the godly ministers of Germany, who have disclosed your counterfeit religion? Which of you all (at tlii-i day) is able to answer Calvin's in- stitutions? Dr. Saverson. A godly minister indeed, a receiver of cut-purses and runagate traitors. And of late I can tell you, tliere is such contention fallen between him and his own sect, that he was obii>!;od to fly the town, about predestina- tion. I tell you truth, for I came by Geneva here. Philpot. I am sure you blas- pheme him and that chun^h where he is minister; as it is your church's disposition, when you cannot an- swer men by learning, to answer them with blasphemies and false reports. For in the matter of pre- destination he is in no other opi- nion than all the doctors of the church be, agreeing to the scrip- tures. Saverson. Men are able to an- swer him if they will. And I pray which of you has answered bishop Fisher's book? Philpot. Yes, Mr. Doctor, that book is answered, and answered again, as you may see, if you like to seek what hath been written against him. And after this Dr. Story came in. To whom I s^id, Mr. Doctor, you have done me great injury, and without law have straitly im- prisoned me, more like a dog than a man. And besides this you have not kept promise with me, for you promised that I should be judged the next day after. Sto7-y. I am come now to keep promise with thee. Was there ever such a fantastical man as this is ? Nay, he is no man, he is a beast ! yea, these heretics be worse than brute beasts ; for they will upon a vain singularity take upon them to be wiser than all men, being in- deed very fools and ass-head&. JOHN PHILPOT. 497 not able to maintain that wliich of an arrogant obstinacy they do stand in. Philpot. I am content to abide j'our railing judgment of me now. Saj' what you will, I am content, for I am under your feet to be trodden on as you like. God for- give it you ; yet I am no heretic. Neither you nor any other shall be able to prove that I hold one jot against the word of God otherwise than a Christian man ought. Dominico Berto., a ymUh of Sixteen, cruelly mangled and tortured to death, by the Popish Feraecutors, A. D. 16^0. Story. The word of God, for- sooth ! It is but folly to reason with these heretics, for they are incurable and desperate. But yet I may reason with thee, not that I have any hope to win thee : whom wilt thou appoint to judge of the word whereto thou standest? Philpot. Verily the word itself. Stonj. Do you not see the igno- rance of this beastly heretic? he willeth the word to be judged of the word. Can the word speak? Philpot. If I cannot prove that which I have said by good autho- rity, I will be content to be count- ed an heretic and an ignorant person, and further what you please. FOX'S MARTYRS. Storu. Let us hear what wise authority thou canst bring in. Philpot. It is the word of Christ in St. John, "The word which [ have spoken, shall judge in the last day." If the word shall judge in the last da}', how much more ought it to judge of our doings now ? and I am sure 1 have my judge on my side, who will absolve and justify me in another world. Howsoever now it shall please you by authority unrighteously to judge of me and others, sure I am in another world to judge you. Ston/. Well, sir, you are like to go after your father Latimer the sophister, and Ridley, who had no- thing to allege for himself but that 32 498 BOOK OF MARTYRS. he learned his heresy of Cranmer. But I dispatched them ; and I tell thee that there never yet hath been one burnt, but I have spoke with him, and have been a cause of '^his dispatch *. Philpot. You will have the more to answer for, Mr. Doctor, as you shall feel in another world, how much soever you now triumph. Story. I tell thee I will never be confessed thereof. And because I cannot now tarry to speak with my lord, I pray one of you to tell my lord, that my coming was to signify to his lordship, that he must out of hand put this heretic out of the way. And going away he said to me, I certify thee, that thou mayest thank no other man but me. Philpot. I thank you therefore with all my heart, and forgive it you. Story. What, dost thou thank me ? If I had thee in my study half an hour, I think I should make thee sing another song. Philpot. No, Mr. Doctor, I stand upon too sure a ground to be overthrown by you now. And thus they departed all away from me one after another, until I was left alone. And afterwards going with my keeper to the coal-house, as I went I met my lord of Lon- don, who spoke unto me very gently. Bonner. Philpot, if there be any pleasure I may shew thee in my house, I pray you require it, and you shall have it. Philpot. My lord, the pleasure that I will require of your lordship, is to hasten ray judgment which is committed unto you, and to dis- * This inhuman ruffian is a fair speci- men of the thorough-paced papistical persecutor. Unable to oflera single ar- gument, he overwhelms his victims with vulgar abuse, and glories in having been an instrument of bringing many to the stake, — that conclusive reply with which the Papists found it so convenient to stop the mouths of those whose doctrines they could not controvert, and which they Would now gladly press into their service, were their ability equal to tlieir desires. patch me out of this miserable world unto my eternal rest. And for all this fair speech I cannot attain hitherto,this fortnight's space, either fire, candle, or good lodging. But it is good for a man to be brought low in this world, and to be counted amongst the vilest, that he may in time of reward receive exaltation and glory. Therefore praised be God that hath humbled me, and given me grace with gladness to be content therewith. Let all who love the truth say Amen. HIS SIXTH EXAMINATION, BEFORE THE LORD CHAMBERLAIN, THE BISHOP OF LONDON, LORDS RICH, ST. JOHN, WINDSOR, SHANDOIS, SIR JOHN BRIDGES, DR. CHEDSEY, AND OTHERS, NOV. 6, 1555. While the lords were seating themselves, the bishop of London came and whispered in my ear, desiring me to behave prudently before the lords of the queen's council, and to take heed what I said. He then, after the lords aud other gentlemen were sat, placed himself at the end of the table, and called me to him, and by the lords I was placed at the upper end against him ; where I kneel- <- ing down, the lords commanded me to stand up, and the bishop spoke to me in the following man- ner. Bonner. Mr. Philpot, T have heretofore both privately myself, and openly before the lords of the clergy, more times than once caus- ed you to be conversed with, to reform you of your errors, but I have not yet found you so tractable as I could wish : wherefore now I have desired those honourable lords of the temporality, and of the queen's majesty's council, who have taken pains with me this day, I thank them for it, to hear you, and what you can say, that they may be judges whether I have sought all means to do you good or not : and I dare be bold to say in their behalf, that if you shew yourself conformable to the queen's JOHN PHILPOT. 499 majesty's proceedings, you tihall liiid as much favour for your deli- verance as you can wisli. I spealc not this to fawn upon you, but to bring you home unto the church. Now let them hear what you have to say. PIdlpot. My lord, I thank God that I have this day such an ho- nourable audience to declare my mind before. And I cannot but commend your lordship's equity in this behalf, which agreeth with the order of tlio primitive church, which was, if any body had been suspected of heresy, as I am now, he should be called first before the archbishop or bishop of the diocese ■where he was suspected ; secondly, in the presence of others his fellow bishops and learned elders ; and thirdly, in hearing of the laity: where after the judgment of God's word declared, and with the assent of the bishops and consent of the people, he was condemned for an heretic, or absolved. And the se- cond point of that good order I have found at your lordship's hands already, in being called be- fore you and your fellow bishops ; and now have the third sort of men, at whose hands I trust to find more righteousness in my cause, tlian I have found with the clergy : God grant that I may have at the last the judgment of God's word con- cerning the same. Bonner. Mr. Philpot, I pray you, ere you go any further, tell mj- lords here plainly, whether you were by me or by my procurement committed to prison or not, and whether I have shewed you any cruelty since you have been com- mitted to my prison. Philpot. If it shall please your lordship to give me leave to declare forth my matter, I will touch that afterward. Lord Rich. Answer first of all to my lord's two questions, and then proceed to the matter. How say you? Were you imprisoned by my lord or not? Can you find any fault since with his cruel using of you ? Philpot, I cannot lay to my lord's charge the cause of my im- prisonment, neither may I say that he hath used me cruelly ; but rather for my part I may say, that I have found more gentleness at his liands, than I did at my own ordinary's, for the time I have been within his prison, because he hath called me three or four times to mine answer, to which I was not called in a year and a half before. Rich. Well, now go to your matter. Philpot. The matter is, that I am imprisoned for the disputations held by me in the convocation- house against the sacrament of the altar, which matter was not moved principally by me, but by the pro- locutor, with the consent of the queen's majesty and of the whole house, and that house, being a member of the parliament-house, which ought to be a place of free speech for all men of the house, by the ancient and laudable cus- tom of this realm. Wherefore I think myself to have sustained hitherto great injury for speaking my conscience freely in such a place as I might lawfully do it: and I desire your honourable lord- ships' judgment, who are of the parliament-house, whether of right I ought to be impeached for the same, and sustain the loss of my living (as I have done), and more- over of my life, as it is sought. Rich. You are deceived here- in ; for the convocation-house is no part of the parliament-house. Philpot. My lord, 1 have always understood the contrary by such as are more expert men in things of this realm than I : and again, the title of every act Icadeth me to think otherwise, which allegeth the agreement of the spirituality and temporality assembled toge- ther. Rich. That is meant of the spi- ritual lords of the upper house. Lo7-d Windsor. Indeed the con- vocation-house is called together by one writ of the summons of the parliament, of an old oustom ; notwithstanding that house is no part of the parliament-house. 500 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Philpot. My lords, I must be contented to abide your judgments in this behalf. Rich. We have told you the truth. And yet we would not that you should be troubled for any thing that there was spoken, so that you having spoken amiss, do declare now that you are sorry for what you have said. Bonner. My lords, he hath spoken there manifest heresy, yea, and there stoutly maintained the same against the blessed sacra- ment of the altar (and with that he put off his cap, that all the lords might reverence and vail their bonnets at tliat idol as he did), and would not allow the real presence of the body and blood of Christ in the same : yet, my lords, God for- bid that I should endeavour to shew him extremity for so doing, in case he will repent and revoke his wicked sayings ; and if in faith he will so do, with your lordships' consent, he shall be released by and by ; if he will not, he shall have the extremity of the law, and that shortly. Rich. How say you? will you acknowledge the real presence of the body and blood of Christ, as all learned men of this realm do, in the mass, and as I do, and will believe as long as I live, I do pro- test it ? Philpot. My lord, I do acknow- ledge in the sacrament of the body and blood of Christ such a pre- sence as the word of God doth al- low and teach me. Rich. That shall be no other- wise than you like. Bonner. A sacrament is the sign of a holy thing ; so that there is both the sign which is the accident (as the whiteness, roundness, and shape of bread), and there is also the thing itself, as very Christ both God and man. But these heretics will have the sacrament to be but bare signs. How say you ? declare unto my lords here whether you al- low the thing itself in the sacra- ment, or no. Philpot. I do confess that in he Lord's supper there are in due respects both the sign and the thing signified, when it is duly ad- ministered after the institution of Christ. Rich. Shew us what manner of presence you allow in the sacra- ment. Philpot. My lords, the reason that at first I have not plainly de- clared my judgment unto you, is, because 1 cannot speak without the danger of my life. Rich. There is none of us here who seek thy life, or mean to take any advantage of that thou shalt speak. Philpot. Although I mistrust not your lordships that be here of the temporality ; yet here is one that sitteth against me (pointing to the lord of London) that will lay it to my charge even to death. Notwith- standing, seeing you require me to declare my mind of the presence of Christ in the sacrament, that ye may perceive I am not ashamed of the presence of Christ, neither do maintain any opinion without probable and sufficient authority of the scripture, I will shew you frankly my mind. I do protest here, first before God and his angels, that I speak it not of vain-glory, neither of singu- larity, neither of wilful stubborn- ness, but truly upon a good con- science, grounded upon God's word, against which I dare not go for fear of damnation, which will follow that which is done contrary to knowledge. There are two things principally, by which the clergy at this day de- ceive the whole realm; that is, the sacrament of the body and blood ©f Christ, and the name of the ca- tholic church : Avhich they do both usurp, having indeed neither of them. And as touching their sa- crament, which they term of the al- tar, I say, that it is not the sacra- ment of Christ, neither in the same is there any manner of Christ's pre- sence. Wherefore they deceive the queen, and you the nobility of this realm, in making you to be- lieve that to be a sacrament which is none, and cause you to commit JOHN PHILPOT. 501 manifest idolatry in worshipping that for God, which is no God. And in testimony of this to be true, besides manifest proof, which am able to make, I will yield my life; which to do, if it were not upon sure ground, it were to my utter damnation. And where they take on them the name of the catholic church (whereby they blind many people's eyes) they are nothing so, calling you from the true religion which was revealed and taught in king Edward's time, unto vain supersti- tion. And this will say for the trial hereof, that if they can prove themselves to be the catholic church, I will never be against their doings, but revoke all that I have said. And 1 shall desire you, my lords, to be a means for me to the queen's majesty, that I may be brought to the just trial hereof. Bonner. It hath been told me be- fore, that you love to make a long tale. Rich. All heretics boast of the Spirit of God, and every one would have a Church by himself; as Joan of Kent, and the anabaptists, had myself Joan of Kent a week in my house after the writ was out for her being burnt, where my lord of Canterbury, and bishop Ridley, resorted almost daily unto her: but she was so high in the Spirit that they could do nothing with her for all their learning. But she went wilfnlly into the fire, as you do now. Philpot. As for Joan of Kent, she was a vain woman (I knew her well) and an heretic indeed, because she stood against one of the manifest articles of our faith, contrary to the scriptures: and such are soon known from the true spirit of God and his church, for that the same abideth within the li- mits of God's word, and will not go out of it. Bonner. I pray you, how will you join me these two scriptures together: Pater major me est; pa- ter Sf ego unwn sumus* ; now shew * The Father is greater than I ; I and the Father are one. your cunning, and join these two scriptures by the word, if you can. Phi/pot. Yes, that I can right well. For we must understand that in Christ there be two natures, the divinity and humanity, and in respect of his humanity, it is spoken of Christ, " The Father is greater than I." But in respect of his Deity, he said again, " The Father and I are one." Bonner. But what scripture have you? Phtlpot. Yes, I have sufficient scripture for the proof of that I have said. For the first, it is writ- ten of Christ in the Psalms, " Thou hast made him a little lower than the angels." Bonner. What say you then to the second scripture? how couple you that by the word with the other? Philpot. The text itself declar- eth, that notwithstanding Christ did abase himself in our human nature, yet he is still one in Deity with the Father. And this St. Paul to the Hebrews doth more at large set forth. Bonner. How can that be, see- ing St. Paul saith, " That the let- ter killeth, but it is the Spirit that giveth life?" Philpot. St. Paul meaneth not that the word of God written, in it- self killeth, which is the word of life, and faithful testimony of the Lord ; but that the word is unpro- fitable, and killeth him that is void of the Spirit ot God; therefore St. Paul said, " That the gospel to some was a savour of life unto life, and to others a savour of death unto death." Also an example hereof we have in the sixth of John, of them who hearing the word of God without the Spirit, were offended thereby; wherefore Christ said, "The flesh profiteth nothing, it is the Spirit that quick- eneth." Bonner. You see, my lords, that this man will have his own mind, and wilfully cast himsell away. I am sorry for him. Piiilpot. The words that I have spoken are none of mine, but the 502 BOOK OF MARTYRS. gospel, whereon I ought to stand. And if you, my lord, can bring better authority for the faith you would draw me unto, than that which I stand upon, I will gladly hear the same. Rich. What countryman are you? Philpot. I ara sir P. Philpot's son, of Hampshire. Rich. He is my near kinsman: wherefore I am the more sorry for bim. Philpot. I thank your lordship that it pleaseth you to challenge kindred of a poor prisoner. Rich. In faith I would go an hundred miles on my bare feet to do you good. Lord Chamberlain. Ho may do well enough if be Avill. St. John. Mr. Philpot, you are taj countryman, and I would be glad you should do well. Rich, I dare be bold to procure for you of the queen's majesty that you shall have ten learned men to reason with you, and twenty or forty of the nobility to hear, so you will promise to abide their judgment. How say you, will you promise here before my lords so to do? Philpot. I will be contented to be judged by them. Rich. Yea, but will you promise to agree to their judgment.' Philpot. There are causes why I may not so do, unless I were sure they would judge according to the word of God. Rich. O, I perceive you will have no man judge but yourself, and think yourself wiser than all the learned men in this realm. Philpot. My lord, I seek not to be mine own judge, but am willing to be judged by others, so that the order of judgment in matters of re- ligion be kept that was in the pri- mitive church, which is, first, that God's will by his word was sought, and thereunto both the spirituality and temporality were gathered to- gether, and gave their consents and judgment, and such kind of judgment I will stand to. Rick. I marvel v/hy you do deny the express words of Christ in the sacrament, saying, " This is my body." and yet you will not stick to say it is not his body. Is not God omnipotent? And is not he able as well by his omnipotency to make it his body, as he was to make man flesh of a piece of clay? Did not he say, " This is my body which shaU be betrayed for you?'' And Avas not his very body be- trayed for us? Therefore it must needs be his body. Bonner. My lord Rich, you have said wonderful well and learn- edly. Bat you might have begun with him before also, in the sixth of .John, where Christ promised to give his body in the sacrament of the altar, saying, " The bread which I will give is my flesh." How can you answer to that? Philpot. You may be soon an- swered: that saying of St, John is, that the humanity of Christ, which ho took upon him for the redemp- tion of man, is the bread of life whereby our souls and bodies are sustained to eternal life, of which the sacramental bread is a lively representation, and an eflectua! coaptation to all such as believe on his passion. And as Christ saith in the same sixth of John, " I am the bread that came down from heaven;" but yet he is not mate- rial, neither natural bread: like- wise, the bread is his flesh, not na- tural or substantial, but by signifi- cation, and by grace in the sacra- ment. And now to my lord Rich's ar- gument, I do not deny the ex- press words of Christ in the sacra- ment, "This is my body;" but I deny that they are naturally and corporally to betaken: they must be taken spiritually, according to the express declaration of Christ, saying that the words of the sa- crament which the Capernaites took carnally, as the Papists now do, ought to be taken spiritually and not carnally, as they falsely imagine, not weighing what inter- pretation Christ hath made in this behalf, neither following the insti- tution of Chiist, neither the use of JOHN PHILPOT. 50$ the apostles and of the primitive church, who never tauo:ht, neither declared any such carnal manner of presence as is now exacted of us violently, without any ground of scripture or antiquity. Botiner. What say you to the omnipotency of God ? Is not he able to perforin that wiiich he spake, as my lord Rich liath very well said? I tell tliee, that God, by his omnipotency, may make himself to be this carpet if he m ill, P/tilpot. As concerning; the om- nipotency of God, I say, that God is able to do (as the prophet David saith) whatsoever he wilieth ; but he wilieth nothing that is not agreeable to his word; that is blasphemy which my lord of Lon- don hath spoken, that God may become a carpet. For, God can- not do that which is contrary to his nature, and it is contrary to the nature of God to be a carpet. A carpet is a creature; and God is the creator; and the creator can- not be the creature: wherefore, unless you can declare by the word, that Christ is otherwise pre- sent with us than spiritually and sacraraentally by grace, as he hath taught us, you pretend the omni- potencj'^ of God in vain. Bonner. Why, wilt thou not say that Christ is really present in the sacrament? Or do you deny it? Philpot. I deny not that Christ is really present in the sacrament to the receiver thereof according to Christ's institution. Bonner. What mean you by " really present"? Philpot. I mean, by " really present," present indeed. Bonner. Is God really present every where ? Philpot. He is so. Bonner. How prove you that ? Philpot. The prophet Isaiah saith, " That God fiUeth all places:" and wheresoever there be two or three gathered together in Christ's name, there is he in the midst of tliem. Bonner. What, his humanity ? Philpot. No, ray lord, I mean the Deity, according to that you demanded. Rich. My lord of London, I pray you let Dr. Chedsey reason with him, and let us see how he can answer him, for T tell thee he is a learned man indeed, and one that I do credit before a great many of you, whose doctrine the queen's majesty and the whole realm doth well allow; therefore, hear him. Dr. Chedsey accordingly began. Chedsey. You have of Scrip- tures the four evangelists for the probation of Christ's real presence to be in the sacrament after the words of consecration, with St. Paul to the Corinthians; which all say, " This is my body." They say not, as you would have me be- lieve. This is not my body. But especially the 6th of John proveth this most manifestly, where Christ promised to give his body, which he performed in his last supper, as it appeareth by these words, " The bread which I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world." Philpot. My lord Rich, with your leave I must needs interrupt him a little, because he speaketh open blasphemy against the death' of Christ: for if that promise, brought in by St. John, was per- formed by Christ in his last sup- per, then he needed not to have died after he had given the sacra- ment. Windsor. There were never any that denied the words of Christ as you do. Did he not say, " This is my body ?" Philpot. My lord, I pray you be not deceived. We do not deny the words of Christ; but we say, these words are of none effect, be- ing spoken otherwise than Christ did institute them in his last sup- per. For example: Christ bid- deth the church to baptize in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. If a priest say these words over the water, and there be no child to bo bap- 504 BOOK OF MARTYRS. tized, tliese words only pronounced do not make baptism. And bap- tism is only baptism to such as be baptized, and to none other stand- ing by. Lord Chamherlain. My lord, let me ask him one question. What kind of presence in the sacrament (duly administered according to Christ's ordinance) do you allow! Philpot. If any come worthily to receive, then do I confess the presence of Christ wholly to be with all the fruits of his passion, unto the said worthy receiver, by the Spirit of God, and that Christ is thereby joined to him, and he to Christ. Lord Chamberlain. I am an- swered. Bonner. My lords, take no heed of him, for he goeth about to de- ceive you. His similitude that he bringeth in of baptism, is nothing like to the sacrament of the altar. For if I should say to sir John Bridges, being with me at supper, and having a fat capon, Take, eat, this is of a capon, although he eat not thereof, is it not a capon still? And likewise of a piece of beef, op of a cup of wine, if I say. Drink, this is a cup of wine, is it not so, because he drinketh not thereof? Philpot. My lord, your simili- tudes are too gross for so high mysteries as we have in hand, as like must be compared to like, and spiritual things with spiritual, and not spiritual things with corporeal things. The sacraments are to be considered according to the word which Christ spake of them, of which, " Take ye, eat ye," be some of the chief, concurrent to the making of the same, without which there can be no sacraments. And, therefore, the sacrament of the body and blood of Christ is called Communion. Bonner. My lords, I am sorry I have troubled you so long with this obstinate man, with whom we can do no good; I will trouble you no longer now. And witli that the lords rose up, none of them saying any evil word unto me. HIS SEVENTH EXAMINATION, NO- VEMBER 19, BEFORE THE BI- SHOPS OF LONDON AND ROCHES- TER, THE CHANCELLOR OF LICH- FIELD, AND DR. CHEDSEY. Bonner. Sirrah, come hither. How chance you came no sooner? Is it well done of you to make Mr. Chancellor and me to tarry for you this hour? By the faith of my body, half an hour before mass, and half an hour even at mass, looking for your coming. Philpot. My lord, it is well known to you that I am a prisoner, and that the doors be shut upon me, and I .cannot come when I please ; but as soon as the doors of my prison were open, I came im- mediately. Bonner. We sent for thee to the intent that thou shouldst have come to mass. How say you, would you have come to mass or no, if the doors had been sooner opened? Philpot. My lord, that is another manner of question. Bonner. Lo, Mr. Chancellor, I told you we should have a froward fellow of him : he will answer di- rectly to nothing. I have had him before the spiritual lords and the temporal, thus he fare th still; yet he reckoneth himself better learned than all the realm. Yea, before the temporal lords the other day, he was so foolish as to challenge the best: he would make himself learned, and is a very ignorant fool indeed. Philpot. I reckon I answered your lordship before the lords plain enough. Bonner. Why answerest thou not directly, whether thou wouldest have gone to mass or not if thou hadst come in time? Philpot. Mine answer shall be thus, that if your lordship can prove your mass, whereunto you would have me to come, to be the true service of God, whereunto a Christian ought to come, I will afterwards come with a good will. Bonner. Look, I pray you ; the king and queen, and all the nobi- JOHN PIIILPOT. 50» llt.y of U»e iea]m do conio to mass, aiul yet Ivo will not. By my faith, thou art too well handled ; thou shalt be worse handled hereafter, I warrant thee. Philpot. Your lordship hath power to treat my body as you please. Bonner. Thou art a very igno- rant fool. Mr. Chancellor, in good faith I Lave handled him and his fellows with as much gentleness as thoy can desire. T did let their friends come unto them to relieve them. And wot you what? the other day they had gotten them- selves up into the top of the leads, with a number of apprentices gaz- ing abroad as though they had been at liberty ; but I cut off their resort : and as for the apprentices, they were as good not to come to you, if I take them. Philpot. My lord, we have no such resort to us, as your lordship imagineth, and there come very few unto us. And of apprentices, I know not one, neither have we any leads to walk on over our coal- house, that I know of: wherefore your lordship hath mistaken your mark. Bonner. Nay, now you think (because my lord chancellor is gone) that we will burn no more ; yes, I warrant thee, I will dis- patch you shortly, unless you re- cant. The conversation then turned again upon the supremacy of the Romish church, on which nothing was said by its advocates, but what had been before refuted by Mr. Philpot; at length the chancellor thus concluded. Chancellor. Well, Doctor, you see we can do no good in persuad- ing of him : let us administer the articles which my lord hath left us, unto him. How say you, Mr. Philpot, to these articles? Mr. Johnson, I pray you write his an- swers. Philpot. Mr. Chancellor, you have no authority to inquire of me my belief in such articles as you go about, for I am not of my lord of Loudon's diocese ; and to be brief with you, I will make no further answer herein than I have already to the bishop. Chancellor. Why then let us go our ways, and let his keeper take him away. CONFERENCE BETWEEN THE BISHOP AND MR. PHILPOT, AND OTHER PRISONERS. Two days after, an hour before it was light, the bishop sent for me again by the keeper. Keeper. Mr. Philpot, arise, you must come to my lord. Philpot. I wonder what my lord meaneth, that he sendeth for me thus early ; I fear he will use some violence towards me, wherefore I pray you make him this answer, That if he do send for me by an order of law, I will come and an- swer > otherwise, since I am not of his diocese, neither is he mine ordinary, I will not (without I be violently constrained) come unto him. With that, one of them took me by force by the arm, and led me up into the bishop's gallery. Bonner. What, thou art a fool- ish knave indeed ; thou wilt not come without thou be fetched. Philpot. I am brought indeed, my lord, by violence unto you, and your cruelty is such, that I am afraid to come before you ; I would your lordship would gently proceed against me by the law. Bonner. I am blamed by the lords the bishops, that I have not dispatched thee ere this ; and am commanded to take a further or- der with thee, and in good faith, if thou wilt not relent, I will make no further delay. Marry, if thou wilt yet be conformable, I will forgive thee all that is past, and thou shalt have no hurt for any thing that is already spoken or done. Philpot. My lord, I have an- swered you already in this behalf, what I will do. Bonner. Hadst thou not a pig brought thee the other day with a knife in it ? Wherefore was it but to kill thyself? or, as it is told mc, 506 BOOK OF MARTYRS. (marry I am counselled to take heed of thee) to kill me? But I fear thee not; I think I am able to tread thee under my feet, do the best thou canst. Philpot. My lord, I cannot deny but that there was a knife in the pig's belly that was brought me. But who put it in, or for what pur- pose, I know not, unless it were because he that sent the meat, thought I was without a knife. But other things your lordship needeth not to fear ; for I was never without a knife, since I eameto prison. And touching your own person, you shall live long if you should live till I go about to kill you ; and I confess, by violence your lordship is able to overcome me. Bonner. I charge thee to an- swer to mine articles. Hold him a book. Thou shalt swear to answer truly to all such articles as I shall demand of thee. Philpot. I refuse to swear in these causes before your lordship, because you are not mine ordinary. Bonner. I am thine ordinary, and here do pronounce, by sentence peremptory, I am thine ordinary, and that thou art of my diocese : (and here he ordered others to be called in to bear him witness.) And I make thee (taking one of his ser- vants by the arm) to be my notary. And now hearken to my articles, to which (when he had read them) he admonished me to make answer, and said to the keeper, Fetch me his fellows, and I shall make them to be witnesses against him. In the mean while came in one of the sherilFs of London, whom the bishop placed by him, saying, Mr. Sheriff, I would you should understand how I do proceed against this man. Mr. Sheriff, you shall hear what articles this man doth maintain ; and so read a rab- blement of feigned articles: That I should deny baptism to be ne- cessary to them that were born of Christian parents, ? that I denied fasting and prayer, and all other good deeds; that I maintained only bare faith to be sufficient to sal- vation, whatsoever a man did be- sides, and I maintained God to be the author of all sin and wicked- ness. Philpot. Ah, my lord, have you nothing of truth to charge me withal, but you must be fain to imagine these blasphemous lies against me ? You might as well have said I had killed your father. The scriptures say, " That God will destroy all men that speak lies." And is not your lordship ashamed to say before this gentle- man, (wlio is unknown to me) that I maintain what you have rehears- ed ? which if I did I were well worthy to be counted an heretic, and to be burnt. Bonner. Wilt thou answer to them? Philpot. I will first know you to be my ordinary, and that you may lawfully charge me with such things. Bonner. Well, then I will make thy fellows to be witnesses herein against thee ; where are they 1 are they come ? Keeper. They are here, my lord. Bonner. Come hither, sirs ; (hold them a book) you shall swear by the contents) of that book, that you shall say the truth of all such articles as shall be demanded of you concerning this man here pre- sent, and take you heed of him that he doth not deceive you, as I am afraid he doth, and strengthen- eth you in your errors. Prisoners. My lord, we will not swear, except we know whereto -^ we can accuse him of no evil; we have been but a while acquainted with him. Philpot. I wonderyour lordship, knowing the law, will go about, contrary to the same, for your lord- ship doth take them to be heretics, and by the law an heretic cannot be a witness. Bonner. Yes, one heretic against another may be vtell enough. And, Mr. Sheriff, I will make one of them to be a witness against an- other. Prisoners. No, my lord. Bonner. No ! will you not ? I JOHN PHILPOT. 507 will mafce you swear, whether you will or no. I think they be Ana- baptists, Mr. Sheritt", they think it not lawful to swear before a judg;e. Philpot. We think it lawful to swear for a man judicially call- ed, as we are not now, but in a blind corner. Bonner. Why then, seeing you will not swear against your fellow, you shall swear for yourselves, and I do here in the presence of Mr. Sheriff object the same articles unto yon, as I have done unto him, and require you, under pain of ex- communication, to answer particu- larly unto every one of them when you shall be examined, as you shall be soon, by my register and some of my chaplains. Prisoners. My lord, we will not accuse ourselves. If any man can lay any thing against us, we are here ready to answer thereto : otherwise we pray your lordship not to burden us ; for some of us are here before you, we know no just cause why. Bonner. Mr. Sheriff, I will trouble you no longer with these froward men. And so he rose up, and was going away, talking with Mr. Sheriff. Philpot. Mr. Sheriff, I pray you record how my lord proceedeth a- gainst us in corners, without all order of law, having no just cause to lay against us. And after this, we were all commanded to be put in the stocks, where I sat from morning until night ; and the keeper at night upon favour let me out. The Sunday after, the bishop came into the coal-house at night, with the keeper, and viewed the bouse, saying, that he was never there before : whereby a man may guess how he kept God's command- ment in visiting the prisoners. Between eight and nine, he sent for me, saying : Bonner. Sir, I have great dis- pleasure of the queen and council for keeping you so long, and letting you have so much liberty ; and be- sides that, you strengthen the other prisoners in their errors, as I have laid wait for your doings, and am certified of you well enough ; I will sequester you therefore from them, and you shall hurt them no more as you have done, and I will out of hand dispatch you as I am com- manded, unless you will be a con- formable man. Philpot. My lord, you have my body in your custody, you may transport it whitiier you please ; I am content. And I wish you would make as quick expedition in my judgment, as you say ; I long for it : and as for conformity, I am ready to yield to ail truth, if any can bring better than I. Bonner. Why, will you believe no man but yourself, whatsoever they say ? Philpot. My belief must not hang upon men's sayings, without sure authority of God's word, which if they can shew me, I will be pliant to the same ; otherwise I cannot go from my certain faith to that which is uncertain. Bonner. Have you then the truth only ? Philpot. My lord, I will speak my mind freely unto you and upon no malice that [I bear to you, be- fore God. You have not the truth, neither are you of the church of God ; but you persecute both the truth and the true church of God, for which cause you cannot pros- per long. You see God doth not prosper your doings according to your expectations : he hath of late shewed his just judgment against one of your greatest doers, who, by reports, died miserably *. I envy not the authority you are in. You that have learning, should know best how to rule. And seeing God hath restored you to jour dignity and living again, use the same to God's glory, and to the setting forth of his true religion; otherwise it will not continue, do what you can. With this saying he paused, and at length said : Bonner. That good man was *The bishop of Winchester, who died of a very painful disorder, on the 12th of November, 1555. 508 BOOK OF MARTYRS. punished for such as thou art. Where is the keeper? Come, let him have him to the place that is provided for him. Go your way before. He then followed me, calling the keeper aside, commanding him to keep all men from me, and narrow- ly to search me, commanding two of his men to acompany the keeper to see me placed. I afterwards passed through St. Paul's up to Lollards' Tower, and after that turned along the west- side of St. Paul's through the wall, and passing through six or seven doors, came to my lodging through many straits ; where I called to re- membrance, that straight is the way to heaven. And it is in a tower, right on the other side of Lollards' Tower, as high almost as the bat- tlements of St. Paul's, eight feet in breadth, and thirteen in length, and almost over the prison where I was before, having a window opening towards the east, by which I could look over the tops of a great many houses, but saw no man pass- ing into them. And as I came to my place, the keeper took off my gown, searched me very narrowly, and took away a pen-case, ink-horn, girdle, and knife, but (as God would have it) I had an inkling a little before I was called, of my removal, and thereupon made an errand to the stool, where (full sore against my will) I cast away many a friendly letter : but that which I had MTitten of my last examination before, I thrust into my hose, thinking the next day to have made an end thereof, and with walking it was fallen down to my leg, which he by feeling soon found out, and asked what that was. I said, they were certain letters : and with that he was very busy to have them out. Let me alone, said I, I will take them out : with that I put my hand, having two other letters therein, and brought up the same writing into my breeches, and there left it, giving him the other two that were not of any import- ance : which to make a shew that they had beeii weighty, I began to tear as well as I could, till they snatched them from me ; and so de- luded him of his purpose. Then he went away, and as he was going, one of them that came with him, said, that I did not de- liver the writing I had in my house, but two other letters I had in my hand before. Did he not? says he, I will go and search him better ; which I hearing, conveyed my ex- amination I had written, into an- other place near my bed, and took all my letters I had in my purse, and was tearing of them when he came again, and as he came I threw the same out of the window, saying, That I heard what he said. By this, I prevented his searching any further. This zealous and unshaken ser- vant of God still continued to be held in suspense, and underwent seven more examinations, being combated with all the learning and sophistry of the various heads of the corrupted church ; but armed with truth, he bravely stood the test, and proved himself to be founded on a rock. To relate the whole of the ex- aminations, would only be a te- dious repetition of the insolence of Bonner, of the pride and arrogance of the other bishops, and of points of dispute, already discussed. We, therefore, proceed to his fourteenth and final examination. LAST EXAMINATION OR MR. PHIL- POT. Bishop Bonner having wearied himself with repeated interviews and conferences with our Chris- tian champion ; by turns insulting, threatening, and exhorting him, with equally hopeless effect, at length resolved to terminate the contest. Accordingly, on the 13th of December, he ordered him to be brought before him and others, in the consistory of St. Paul's, and thus addressed him : "Mr. Philpot, amongst other things that were laid and objected against you, these three you were principally charged with. " The first is, that you being 3 JOHN PHILPOT. 509 fallen from the unity of Christ's Catholic church, do refuse to be reconciled thereunto. " The second is, That you have blasphemously spoken against the sacrifice of the mass, calling it idolatry. " And the third is, That you have spoken against the sacrament of the altar, denying the real pre- sence of Christ's body and blood to be in the same. " And according to the will and pleasure of the synod legislative, you have been often by me invited and required to go from your said errors and heresies, and to return to the unity of the Catholic church, which if you will now willingly do, you shall be mercifully and gladly received, charitably used, and have all the favour I can shew you. And now to tell you true, it is as- signed and appointed me to give sentence against you, if you stand herein, and will not return. Wherefore if you so refuse, I do ask of you whether you have any cause that you can shew why I now should not give sentence a- gainst you. Philpot. Under protestation, not to go from my appeal that I have made, and also not to consent to you as my competent judge, I say, respecting your first objection con- cerning the Catholic church, I nei- ther was nor am out of the same. And as to the sacrifice of the mass, and the sacrament of the altar, I never spoke against the same. And as concerning the pleasure of the synod, I say, that these twenty years I have been brought up in the faith of the true Catholic church, which is contrary to your church, whereunto you would have me to come : and in that time I have been many times sworn, both in the reign of king Henry the Eighth, and of Edward his son, against the usurped power of the bishop of Rome, which oath I think I am bound in my conscience to keep, because I must perform unto the Lord mine oath. But if you, or any of the synod, can, by God's word, persuade mc that my oath was unlawful, and that I am bound by God's law to come to your church, faith, and religion, 1 will gladly yield unto you, other- wise not. Bonner then, not able with all his learned doctors to accomplish this offered condition, had recourse, as usual, to his promises and threats; to which Mr. Philpot an- swered : "You, and all other of your sort, are hypocrites, and I wish all the world knew your hypocrisy, your tyranny, ignorance, and ido- latry." Upon these words the bishop for that time dismissed him, command- ing that on Monday the 16th of the same month he should again be brought thither, there to have the definitive sentence of condemna- tion pronounced against him, if he tlien remained resolved. CONDEMNATION OF PHILPOT. The day being come, Mr. Philpot was accordingly presented before the bishops of London, Bath, Wor- cester, and Lichfield ; when the former thus began : Bonner. My lords, Stokesley, my predecessor, when he went to give sentence against an heretic, used to make this prayer; Deus qui errantibus, ut in viam possint redire, justitice veritatisque tucB lumen ostendis, da cunctis qui Christiana prqfessione censentur, ^• ilia respuere quee huic inimica sint nomini, 5)' ea qucc sint apta sectari per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen. Which I will follow. And so he read it with a loud voice in Latin. Philpot. I wish you would speak in English, that all men might un- derstand you; for St. Paul willeth, that all things spoken in the con- gregation to edify, should be spoken in a tongue that all men might understand. Whereupon the bishop read it in English. " O God, who shewest the light of thy truth and righteousness to those that stray, that they may re- turn into thy way, give to all who profess themselves Christians, to refuse those things which are foes 510 BOOK OF MARTYRS. to thy name, and to follow those tilings which are fit, by Christ our Lord. Amen." And when he came to these words, " To refuse those things which are foes to thy name." Mr. Philpot said, " Then they all must turn away from you ; for you are enemies to that name." Bonner. Whom do you mean ? PMlpot. You, and all of your generation and sect. And I am sorry to see you sit in the place that you now sit in, pretending to execute justice, and to do nothing less but deceive all in this realm. And then turning himself unto the people, he further said, " O all you gentlemen, beware of these men, and all their doings, which are contrary to the primitive church. And I would know of you, my lord, by what authority you proceed against me." Bonner. Because I am bishop of London. Philpot. Well, then you are not my bishop, nor have I offended in your diocese: and moreover, I have appealed from you, and therefore by your own law you ought not to proceed against me, especially being brought hither from another place by violence. Bojiner. Why, who sent you hither to me ? Philpot. Dr. Story, and Dr. Cook, with other commissioners of the king and queen : and, my lord, is it not enough for you to worry your own sheep, but you must also meddle with other men's ? Then the bishop delivered two books to Mr. Philpot, one oLthe civil, and the other of the canon law, out of which he would have proved that he had authority to proceed against him as he did. Mr. Philpot then perusing them, and seeing the small and slender proof that was there alleged, said to the bishop : " I perceive your law and divi- nity is all one ; for you have knowledge in neither of them ; and I wish you knew your own igno- rance : but you dance in a net, and think that no man doth see you," 2 Hereupon they had much talk. At last Bonner said unto him : " Philpot, as concerning your objections against my jurisdiction, you shall understand that both the civil and canon laws make against you ; and as for your appeal, it is not allowed in this case : for it is written in the law. There is no ap- peal from a judge executing the sentence of the law." Philpot. My lord, it appeareth by your interpretation of the law, that you have no knowledge there- in, and that you do not understand the law: for if you did, you would not bring in that text. Hereupon the bishop recited a law of the Romans, That it was not lawful for a Jew to keep a Christian in captivity, and to use him as a slave, laying then to the said Phiipot's charge that he did not understand the law, but did like a Jew. Whereunto Philpot an- swered, " No, I am no Jew, but you, ray lord, are a Jew. For you profess Christ, and maintain Antichrist ; you profess the gospel, and main- tain superstition, and you are able to charge me with nothing." Bonner and another bishop. With what can you charge us 1 Philpot. You are enemies to all truth, and all your doings are full of idolatry, saving the article of the Trinity. Whilst they were thus debating, there came thither sir William Gar- ret, knight, then mayor of London, sir Martin Bowes, knight, and Tho- mas Leigh, then sheriff of the same city, and sat down with the bishops in the consistory. They were no sooner seated than Bonner again addressed Mr. Phil- pot, with the prayer, and again repeated the charge against him ; after which he addressed him in a formal exhortation, which he had no sooner ended than Mr. Philpot turned himself to the loxd mayor, and said, Philpot. I am glad, my lord, now to stand before that authority, that hath defended the gospel and the truth of God's word: but I am JOHN PHILPOT. 511 sorry to see that that authority, which representeth the king and queen's persons, should now be changed, and be at the command of Antichrist ; and I am glad that God hath given me power to stand here this day, to declare and de- fend my faith, which is founded on Christ. Therefore, (turning to the bi- shops) as touching your first ob- jection, I say, that I am of the Ca- tholic church ; whereof I never was out, and that your church is the church of Rome, and so the Babylonical, and not the Catholic church ; of that church I am not. As touching your second objec- tion, which is, that I should speak against the sacrifice of the mass ; I do say, that I have not spoken against the true sacrifice, but] I have spoken against your private masses that you use in corners, which is blasphemy to the true sacrifice ; for your daily sacrifice is reiterated blasphemy against Christ's death, and it is a lie of your own invention ; and that abo- minable sacrifice, which you set upon the altar, and use in your private masses, instead of the liv- ing sacrifice, is idolatry. Thirdly, where you lay to my charge, that I deny the body and blood of Christ to be in the sa- crament of the altar, I cannot tell what altar you mean, whether it be the altar of the eross, or the altar of stone : and if you call it the sacrament of the altar in re- spect of the altar of stone, then I defy your Christ, for it is a false one. And as touching your transub- stantiation, I utterly deny it, for it was first brought up by a pope. Now as concerning your offer made from the synod, which is gathered together in Antichrist's name ; prove to me that you be of the Ca- tholic church (which you never can), and I will follow you, and do as you would have me. But you are idolators, and traitors ; for in your pulpits ye rail against good things, as king Henry, and king Edward his son, who have stood against the usurped power of the pope of Rome : against whom I have also taken an oath, which, if you can shew me by God's law that T have taken un- justly, I will then yield unto you: but I pray God turn the king and queen's heart from your synagogue and church. Coventry. In our true Catholic church are the apostles, evange- lists, and martyrs ; but before Martin Luther there was no apos- tle, evangelist, or martyr of your church. Philpot. Will you know the cause why ? Christ did prophecy that in the latter days there should come false prophets and hypocrites, as you are. Coventry. Your church of Ge- neva, which you call the Catholic church, is that which Christ pro- phecied of. Philpot. I allow the church of Geneva, and the doctrine of the same, for it is Catholic and aposto- lic, and doth follow the doctrine which the apostles preached. Bonner. My lord, this man had a roasted pig brought unto him, and this knife was put secretly be- tween the skin and flesh thereof. And also this powder, under pre- tence that it was good and comfort- able for him to eat and drink ; which powder was only to make ink to write withal. For when his keeper perceived it, he took it and brought it unto me : which when I saw I thought it had been gun- powder, and thereupon put fire to it, but it would not burn. Then I took it for poison, and so gave it to a dog, but it was not so. I then took a little water, and made as good ink as ever I did write withal. Therefore, my lord, you may un- derstand what a naughty fellow this is. Philpot. Ah, my lord, have you nothing else to charge me withal, but these trilles, seeing I stand upon life and death? Doth the knife in the pig prove the church of Rome to be the Catholic church? Then the bishop brought forth a 512 BOOK OP MARTYRS. certain instrument, containing ar- ticles and questions, a^preed upon both in Oxford and Cambridge. Also he exhibited two books in print; the one was the catechism composed in king Edward's days, in the year 1552, the other con- cerning the report of the disputa- tion in the convocation-house, mention whereof is above ex- pressed. Moreover, he brought forth two letters, and laid them to Mr. Phil- pot's charge ; the one was ad- dressed to him by a friend, com- plaining of the bishop's ill usage of a young man named Bartlet Green; the other was a consolatory letter from lady Vane. Besides these, was introduced a memorial drawn up by Mr. Philpot, to the queen and parliament, stating the irregularity of his being brought to bishop Bon- ner, he not being of his diocese ; also complaining of the severity of his treatment. These books, letters, supplica- tions, &c. having been read, the bishop demanded of him, if the book intilled, " The true report of the disputation, &c." were of his penning, or not? To this Mr. Philpot answered in the affirma- tive. , The bishops growing weary, and not being able by any sufficient ground, either of God's word, or of the true ancient catholic fathers, to convince and overcome him, be- gan with flattering speech to per- suade him: promising, that if he would revoke his opinions, and re- turn to their Romish and Babyloni- cal church, he would not only be pardoned that which was past, but also they would, with all favour and cheerfulness of heart, receive him again as a true member there- of. But when Bonner found that it would take no effect, he demanded of Mr. Philpot, whether he had any ^ust cause to allege why he should not condemn him as an he- retic. "Well," quoth Mr. Phil- pot, " your idolatrous sacrament, which you have found out, you would fain defend, but you cannot, nor ever shall." In the end the bishop, seeiii his steadfastness in the truth, openly pronounced the sentence of condemnation against him. In the reading whereof, when he came to these words, " and you, an obsti- nate, pernicious, and impenitent heretic," &c. Mr. Philpot said, " I thank God that I am an here- tic out of your cursed church ; I am no heretic before God. But God bless you, and give you grace to repent your wicked doings." When Bonner was about the midst of the sentence, the bishop of Bath pulled him by the sleeve, and said, " My lord, my lord, know of him first whether he will recant or not." Bonner said, " O, let him alone:" and so read forth the sentence. When he had concluded, he de- livered him to the sherifls; and so two officers brought him through the bishop's house into Paternos- ter-row, where his servant met him, and when he saw him, he said, "Ah, dear master!" " Content thyself," ,said Mr. Philpot, " I shall do well enough ; for thou shalt see me again." The officers then took him to Newgate; where they delivered him to the keeper. Then his man strove to go in after his master, and one of the officers said unto him, " Hence, fellow ! what wouldst thou have?" And he said, "I would speak with my master." Mr. Philpot then turned about, and said to him, " To-morrow thou shalt speak with me." When the under keeper under- stood it to be his servant, he gave him leave to go in with him. And Mr. Philpot and his man were turned into a little chamber on the right hand, and there remained a short time, when Alexander, the chief keeper, came unto him ; who said, " Ah, hast thou not done well to bring thyself hither?" — "Well," said Mr. Philpot, "I must be content, for it is God's appointment; and I shall dtsire you to let me have your gentle fa- vour, for you and I have been of old acquaintance. JOHN PHILPOT. 5\S " If you will recant," said the keeper, " I will shew yon any pleasure I can." — " Nay," said Mr. Philpot, " I wiil never recant that which I have spoken, wliil.st I have my life, for it is most certain truth, and in witness hereof, I will seal it with my blood." Then Alexander said, " This is th.c say- ing of the whole pack of you iiere- ties." Whereupon he commanded him to be set upon the block, and as many irons to be put upon his legs as he could bear. Rochus, a Carver of St. Lucar in Spain, burnt by order of the Incmmtion, for d^'acing his own Sign, whieh iras the Image of the Virgin Alary. Then the clerk told Alexander in his ear, that Mr. Philpot had given his man money. Alexander said to him, " What money hath thy master given thee?" He an- swered, " My master hath given me none." — "No?" said Alex- der, " hath he given thee none ? That I will know, for I will search thee." " Do with me as you like, and search me all that you can," quoth his servant; " he hath given me a token or two to send to his friends, to his brothers and sisters." — " Ah," said Alexander unto Mr. Philpot, " thou art a maintainer of heretics; thy man should have gone to some of thy affinity, but he FOX'S MARTYRS. shall be known well enough." — ■ " Nay," said Mr. Philpot, "^ I do send it to my friends ; there he is, let him make answer to it. But, good Mr. Alexander, be so much my friend, that these irons may be taken off." — " Well," said Alex- ander, " give me my fees, and I will take them oft"; if not, thou shalt wear them still." Then suid Mr. Philpot, " Sir, what is your fee?" He said, "Four pounds." — "Ah," said Mr, Philpot, "I have not so much ; t am but a poor man, and I have been long in prison."—" What wilt thou give me then?" said Alex- ander. " Sir," said he, " I will give thee twenty shillings, and 33 514 BOOK OF MARTYRS. that I will send my man for, or else I will gfve thee my gown in pledge; for the time is not long:, I am sure, that I shall be with you; for the bishop said unto me that I should soon be dispatched." "What is that to me?" said Alexander. And with that he de- parted from him, and commanded him to be put in a dungeon; but before he could be taken from the block, the clerk would have a groat. Then one Witterence, steward of the house, took him on his back, and carried him down, his man knew not whither. Wherefore Mr. Philpot said to his servant, " Go to the sheriff, and shew him how I am used, and desire him to be good to me ;" and so his servant went, and took another person with him. When they came to the sheriff, and shewed him how Mr. Philpot was treated in Newgate, he took his ring from off his finger, and de- livered it to the person that came with Mr. Philpot's man, and bade him go unto Alexander the keeper, and commanded him to take off his irons, and to handle him more gently, and to give his man again that which he had taken from him. And when they returned to Alexander, and delivered their message frorn the sheriff, he took the ring and said, " Ah, I perceive that Mr. Sheriff is a bearer with him, and all such heretics as he is, therefore to-morrow I will shew it to his betters:" yet at ten o'clock he went to Mr. Philpot where he lay, and took off his irons, and gave him such things as he had before taken from his servant. Upon Tuesday, the 17th of De- cember, while he was at supper, there came a messenger from the sheriffs, and bade Mr. Philpot make ready, for the next day he should suffer, and be burned at a slake. Mr. Philpot answered, " I am ready ; God grant me strength, and a joyful resurrection." And so he went into his chamber, and poured cut his spirit unto the Lord God, giving him most hearty thanks, that he had made him worthy to suffer for his truth. EXECUTION OF MR. PHILPOT. In the morning the sheriffs came according to order, about eight o'clock, and calling for him, he most joyfully came down to them. And there his man met him, and said, " Ah, dear master, farewell." His master answered, " Serve God, and he will help thee." And so he went with the sheriffs to the place of execution; and when he was entering into Smithfield, the way was foul, and two officers took hini up to bear him to the stake. Then he said merrily, " What, Avill you make me a pope? I am con- tent to go to my journey's end on foot." But on entering into Smith- field, he kneeled down, and said^ " I will pay my vows in thee, O Smithfield." On arriving at the place of suf- fering, he kissed the stake, and said, " Shall I disdain to suffer at this stake, seeing my Redeemer did not refuse to suffer the most vile death upon the cross for me ?" And then with an obedient heart he repeated the 106th, 107th, antj 108th Psalms: and when he had made an end of all his prayers, he said to the officers, " What have you done for me?" And when they severally declared what they had done, he gave money to them. They then bound him to the stake, and lighted the fire, when the blessed martyr soon resigned his soul into the hands of him who gave it. Thus have Ave presented the reader with the life and actions of this learned and worthy soldier of the Lord, with his various exami- nations that were preserved from the sight and hand of his enemies ; who, by all manner of means, sought not only to stop him from all writing, but also to spoil and deprive liim of that which he had written. For which cause he was many times searched in the prison by his keeper: but yet so happily were these particulars preserved, that they always escaped his pry- ing eyes. 3 LETTER FROM MR. PHILPOT. 515 There are many letters extant written by this excellent man upon various occasions; and we give the following-, as it treats of a very important point of doctrine; and, we trust, may have some wcij:;ht in doing away an error that originated in the deluded and perverted mind of an Arian. LETTER FROM MR. PHILPOT TO A FRIEND, UPON INFANT BAPTISM. The God of all light and un- derstanding enlighten your heart with all true knowledge of his word, and make you perfect to the day of our Lord Jesus Christ, whereuntq you are now called, through the mighty operation of his Holy Spirit. Amen. I received yesternight from you a letter, wherein you gently require my judgment concerning ihe baptism of infants. And be- fore I shew you what I have learnt out of God's word, and of his true and infallible church, touching the same, I will first declare what vi- sion I had the same night, on falling asleep, after reading your letter, knowing that God doth not without cause reveal to his people, who have their minds fixed on him, special and spiritual revelation to their comfort, as a taste of their joy and kingdom to come, which flesh and blood cannot compre- hend. It seemed as if I saw a great beautiful city, of the colour of azure and white, four-square, in a beautiful composition in the midst of the sky, the sight whereof so in- wardly comforted me, that I am not able to express the consolation I had thereof, yea the remem- JL>rance thereof causeth as yet my heart to leap for joy: and as cha- rity is no churl, but would wish others to be partakers of his de- light, so methought I called to others (I cannot tell whom), and while they came, and we together beheld the same, by and by, to my great grief, it faded away. This dream I think not to have come of the illusion of the senses, because it brought with it so much spiritual joy, and I take it to be of the working of God's Spirit for the contenlation of your request, as he wrought in Peter to satisfy Corne- lius. Therefore I interpret this beautiful city to bo the glorious church of Christ; and the appear- ance of it in the sky, sigiiifieth the heavenly state thereof, whose con- versation is in heaven; and thai according to the primitive church which is now in heaven, men ought to measure and judge the church of Christ now on earth: for as the prophet David sailh, " The foundations thereof be in the holy hills, and glorious things be spoken of the city of God." And the mar- vellous quadrature of the same, I take to signify the universal agree- ment of the same, and that all the church here militant ought to con- sent to the primitive church throughout the four parts of the world; as the prophet aftirmeth, saying, " God maketh us to dwell after one manner in one house." And that I conceived so wonderful joy at the contemplation thereof, I understand the unspeakable joy which they have that be at unity with Christ's primitive church: for there is joy in the Holy Ghost, and peace, which passeth all under- standing; as, it is written in the Psalms, " as of joyful persons is the dwelling of all them that be in thee." And that I called others to the fruition of this vision, and to behold this wonderful city, I con- strue it by the will of God this vi- sion to have come upon me musing on your letter, to the end that under this figure I might have oc- casion to move you with many others, to behold the primitive church in all your opinions con- cerning faith, and to conform your- self in all points to the same, which is the pillar and establish- ment of the truth, and teacheth the true use of the sacraments, and having, with a greater fulness than we have now, the first fruits of the Holy Ghost, did declare the true interpretation of the Scriptures, according to all verity, even as our Saviour promised to send thero 516 BOOK OF MARTYRS. another Comforter, which should teach them all truth. And since all truth was taught and revealed to the primitive church, which is our mother, let us all, that be obedient children of God, submit ourselves to its judg- ment, for the better understanding of the articles of our faith, and of the doubtful sentences of the scrip- ture. If you look upon the papistical sjnagogue onlj, which had cor- rupted God's word by false inter- pretations, and hath perverted the true use of Christ's sacraments, you might seem to have good hand- fast of your opinion against the baptism of infants. But foras- much as it is of more antiquity, and hath its beginning from God's word, and from the use of the pri- mitive church, it must not in re- spect of the abuse in the popish church be neglected, or thought not expedient to be used in Christ's church. Auxentius, one of the Arian sect, with his adherents, was one of the first that denied the bap- tism of children ; and next after him Pelagius the heretic, and some others that were in St. Bernard's time, as it doth appear by his writings, and in our days the Ana- baptists, an inordinate kind of men stirred up by the devil, to the de- struction of the gospel. But the Catholic truth delivered unto us by the scriptures, plainly deter- mineth, that all such are to be baptized, whom God acknowledg- eth for his people, and voucheth them worthy of sanctification or remission of their sins. Therefore since that infants be in the number or scroll of God's people, and be partakers of the promise by their purification in Christ, it must needs follow thereby, that they ought to be baptized as well as those that can profess their faith. For we judge the people of God as well by the free and liberal promise of God, as by the confession of faith. For to whomsoever God promiseth himself to be their God, and whom he acknowledgeth for his, those no man without great impiety may exclude from the number of the faithful. But God promiseth that he will not only be the God of such as do profess him, but also of in- fants, promising them his grace and remission of sins, as it ap- peareth by the words of the cove- nant made unto Abraham : " I will set my covenant between thee and me, saith the Lord, and between thy seed after thee in their gene- rations, with an everlasting cove- nant, to be thy God, and the God of thy seed after thee." To Avhich covenant circumcision was added, to be a sign of sanctification as well in children as in men ; and no man may think that this promise is abrogated with circumcision and other ceremonial laws. For Christ came t© fulfil the promises, and not to dissolve them. Therefore in the gospel he saith of infants, that is, of such as yet believed not, " Let the little ones come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven." Again, " It is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that any of these little ones do perish." Also, " He that receiveth one of these little ones receiveth me. Take heed therefore that ye de- spise not one of these babes, for I tell you their angels do continually see in heaven my Father's face." And what may be said more plain than this ? It is not the will of the heavenly Father that the infants should perish ; whereby we may gather, that he receiveth them freely unto his grace, although as yet they confess not their faith. Since then that the word of the promises, which is contained in baptism, pertaineth as well to chil- dren as to men, why should the sign of the promise,^ which is bap- tism in water, be withdrawn from children, when Christ himself com- manded them to be received of us, and promiseth the reward of a prophet to those that receive such a little infant, as he for an example did put before his disciples ? Now will I prove with manifest arguments that children ought to be baptized, and that the apostles LETTER FROM MR. PHILPOT. 517 of Christ did baptize children. The Lord commanded his apostles to baptize all nations ; therefore also children ought to be baptized, for they are comprehended under this word, All nations. Further, whom God doth ac- count among the faithful, they are faithful, for it was said to Peter, *' That thing which God hath pu- rified, thou shalt not say to be common or unclean." But God doth repute children among the faithful : therefore they are faith- ful, except we had rather to resist God, and seem stronger and -wiser than he. And without all doubt the apos- tles baptized those which Christ commanded: but he commanded the faithful to be baptized, among which infants are reckoned : the apostles then baptized infants. The gospel is more than baptism, for Paul said, " The Lord sent me to preach the gospel, and not to baptize:" not that he denied absolutely that he was sent to bap- tize, but that he preferred doctrine before baptism, for the Lord com- manded both to the apostles : but children be received by the doc- trine of the gospel of God, and not refused : therefore what per- son being of reason may deny them baptism, which is a thing less than the gospel .' For in the sacraments be two things to be considered, the thing signified, and the sign; and the thing signified is greater than the sign ; and from the thing signi- tied in baptism, children are not excluded; who therefore may deny them the sign, which is baptism in water J St. Peter could not deny them to be baptized in water, to whom he saw the Holy Ghost given, which is the certain sign of God's people ; for he saith in the Acts, *' May any body forbid them to be baptized in water who have re- ceived the Holy Ghost as well as we?" Therefore St. Peter denied not baptism to infants, for he knew certainly both by the doctrine of Christ, and by the covenant, which is everlasting, that the kingdom of heaven pertaineth to infants. None are received into the king- dom of heaven but such as God loveth, and which are endued with the Spirit: for whoso hath not the Spirit of God, he is none of his. But infants are beloved of God, and therefore want not the Spirit of God: wherefore, if they have the Spirit of God as well as men, if they be numbered among the people of God as well as we that be of age, who (I pray you) may well withstand children to be bap- tized with water in the name of the Lord? The apostles, in times past, being yet not sulliciently instructed, did murmur against those which brought their children unto the Lord, but the Lord rebuked them, and said, " Let the babes come unto me." Why then do not these rebellious anabaptists obey the commandment of the Lord '. For what do they now-a-days else that bring their children to baptism, than that they did in times past which brought their children unto the Lord, and our Lord received them, and putting his hands on them blessed them, and both by words and by gentle behaviour to- wards them, declared manifestly that children be the people of God, and entirely beloved by him? But some will say. Why then did not Christ baptize them? Because it ia written, Jesus himself baptized not, but his disciples. Moreover, circumcision in the old law was administered to in- fants : therefore baptism ought to be administered in the new law unto children. For baptism is come in the stead of circumcision, as St. Paul witnesseth, saying to the Colossians, " By Christ ye are circumcised with a circumcision which is without hands, when ye put off the body of sin of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ, being buried together with him through baptism." Behold, Paul calleth baptism the circumcision of a Christian man,- which is done 518 BOOK OF MARTYRS. without bands, but that with hands no man any longer ought to be cir- cumcised, although the mystery of circumcision do still remain in faithful people. To this I may add, that the ser- vants of God were always ready to administer the sacraments to them ifor whom they were instituted. As for an example, we may behold Joshua, who most diligently pro- cured the people of Israel to be circumcised before they entered into the land of promise ; but since the apostles were the preachers of the word, and the very faithful ser- vants of Jesus Christ, who may hereafter doubt that they baptized infants, since baptism is in the place of circumcision? Item, The apostles did attempe- rate all their doings to the shadows and figures of the Old Testament ; therefore it is certain that they did attemperate baptism accordingly to circumcision, and baptized chil- dren because they were under the figure of baptism ; for the people of Israel passed through the Red Sea, and the bottom of the water of Jordan, with their children. And although the children be not always expressed, neither the wo- man in the holy scriptures, yet they are comprehended and under- stood in the same. Also the scripture evidently tell- eth us, that the apostles baptized whole families or households : but the children are comprehended in a family or household, as the chiefest and dearest part thereof: therefore we may conclude, the apostles did baptize infants or chil- dren, and not only men of lawful age. And that the house or house- hold is taken for man, woman, and child, it is manifest in the 17th of Genesis ; and also in that Joseph doth call Jacob with all his house, to come out of the land of Canaan into Egypt. Finally, I can declare out of an- cient writers, that the baptism of infants hath continued from the apostle's time unto ours, neither was it instituted by any councils, neither of the pope, nor of other men, but coiiimanded from the scripture by the apostles them- selves. Origen, upon the declara- tion of St. Paul's epistle to the Romans, expounding the 6th chap- ter, saith, '" That the church of Christ received the baptism of in- fants from the very apostles." Stt Jerome maketh mention of the baptism of infants in the third book against the Pelagians, and in his epistle to Leta. St. Augustine reciteth, lor this purpose, a place out of John, bishop of Constanti- nople, in his first book against Julian, chap. 2 ; and he again writ- ing to St. Jerome, epist, 28, saith, *' That St. Cyprian, not making any new decree, but firmly observ- ing the faith of the church, judged with bis fellow bishops, that as soon as one was born, he might be lawfully baptized." The place of Cyprian is to be seen in his epistle to Fidus. Also St. Augustine, in writing against the Donatists, in the fourth book, chap. 23 and 24, saith, That the baptism of infants was not de- rived from the authority of man, neither of councils, but from the tradition or doctrine of the apos- tles. Cyril, upon Leviticus, chap. 8, approveth the baptism of children, and condemnetb the iteration of baptism. These authorities of men I do allege, not to tie the baptism of children unto the testimonies of men, but to shew how men's testi- monies do agree with God's word, and that the verity of antiquity is on our side, and that the Anabap- tists have nothing but lies for them, and new imaginations, which feign the baptism of children to be the pope's commandment. After this will I answer to the sum of your arguments for the contrary. The first, which iuclud- eth all the rest, is, " Go ye into all the world, and preach the glad tidings to all creatures. He tliat believeth and is baptized shall be saved : but he that believeth not, shall be damned," &c. LETTER FROM MR. PHILPOT. 610 To this I answer, That nothing is added to God's word by baptism of children, as you pretend, but that is done which the same word doth require, for that children are accounted of Christ in the gospel among the number of such as be- lieve, as it appeareth by these words, " He tliat oftendeth one of these little babes which believe in me, it were better for him to have a mill-stone tied about his neck, and to be cast into the bottom of the sea." Where plainly Christ calleth such as be not able to con- fess their faith, Believers, because of his mere grace he reputeththem for believers. And this is no won- der so to be taken, since God im- puteth faith for righteousness unto men that be of riper age : for both in men and children, righteousness, acceptation, sanctifi cation, is of mere grace, and by imputation, that the glory of God's grace might be praised. Aiid that children of faithful parents are sanctified, and that among such as do believe, is ap- parent in the seventh chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians. And whereas you do gather by the order of the words in the said com- mandment of Christ, that children ought to be taught before they be baptized, and to this end you al- lege many places out of the Acts, proving that such as confessed their faith first, were baptized ; I an- swer, that if the order of words might weigh any thing in this cause, we have the scripture that maketh as well for us. For in St. Mark we read that John did bap- tize in the desert, preaching the baptism of repentance. In which place we see baptizing go before, and preaching to follow after. And also I will declare this place of Matthew, exactly considered, to make for the use of baptism in children ; for St. Matthew bath it written in this wise, " AH power is given me (saith the Lord) in hea- ven and in earth," therefore going forth Matheteusate, that is, Disciple ye, (as I may express the signifi- cation of the word) or, Make, or Gather to me disciples of all na- tions. And following, he declareth the way how they should gather to him disciples out of all nations; " Baptizing them and teaching ;" by baptizing and teaching ye shall procure a church to me. And both these aptly and briefly severally he setteth forth, saying, " Baptiz- ing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have com- manded you." Now then, baptism goeth before doctrine. But hereby I do not gather, that the Gentiles, who never heard any thing before of God, and of the Son of God, and of the Holy Ghost, ought to be baptized, neither would they permit themselves to be bap- tized, before they knew to what end. But this I have declared to shew you upon how feeble founda- tion the Anabaptists be grounded. And plainly it is not true which they imagine of this text, that the Lord did only command such to be baptized whom the apostles had first of all taught. Neither here verily is signified who only are to be baptized, but he speaketh of such as be at perfect age, and of the first foundations of faith, and of the church to be planted among the Gentiles, which were as yet rude and ignorant of religion. Such as be of age may hear, be- lieve, and confess that which is preached and taught, but infants cannot: therefore we may justly- collect, tiiat he speaketh nothing here of infants or children. But for all this they ought not to be ex- cluded from baptism. It is a general rule, " He that doth not labour must not eat." But who is so barbarous as to think hereby, that children should be famished? v The Lord sent his apostles, at the beginning of his setting up his true religion, unto all nations, un- to such as were both ignorant of God, and were out of the covenant of God; and truly such persons it behoved not first to be baptized, and afterward taught; but first to r/io BOOK OF MARTYRS. be taugUl, and i>ftcr baptized. If at tiiis day we should go to the Turks to convert them to the faith of Christ, verily fust we ought to teach them, and afterwards baptize such as would yield to be the ser- vants of Christ. Likewise the JiOrd himself in time past did, when first he renewed the covenant with Abraham, and ordained cir- cumcision to be a seal of the cove- nant after that Abraham was cir- cumcised. But he, when he per- ceived the infants also to pertain to the covenant, and that circumcision was the sealing up of the covenant, did not only circumcise Ishmael his son, that was thirteen years of age, but all other infants that were born in his house, among whom we reckon Isaac. Even so, faithful people who were converted from heathen ido- latry by the preaching of the gos- pel, and confessing the faith, were baptized ; when they understood their children to be counted among the people of God, and that bap- tism was the token of the children of God, they procured also their children to be baptized. Therefore, it is written, " Abraham cirrum- cised all the male children in his house." In like manner we read in the Acts and writings of the apos- tles, that after thi> master of the house was turned to the faith, all the whole house was baptized. And as concerning those which of old time were compelled to con- fess their faith before they received baptism, which were called Cate- chumeni, they were such as with our fore-fathers came from the Gen- tiles into the church, who being yet rude of faith, they did instruct in the principles of their belief, and afterward they did baptize them; but the same ancient fathers, notwithstanding, did baptize the children of faithful men, as I have already partly declared. I beseech thee, dear brother in the gospel, follow the steps of the glorious in the primitive church, and of such as at this day follow the same; decline from them nei- ther to the right hand nor to the left. Then slvall deatJj, be it erer so bitter, be more sweet than this life: then shall Christ, with all the heavenly Jerusalem, triumphantly embrace your spirit with unspeak- able gladness and exultation, who in this earth was content to join your spirit with their spirits, ac- cording as it is commanded by the word, that the spirit of the prophets should be subject to the prophets. One thing ask with David ere you depart, and require the same, that you may dwell with a full accord in his house, for there is glory and worship: and so with Simeon in the temple embracing Christ, de- part in peace: to which peace Christ bring both you and me, and all our loving brethren that love God in the unity of faith, by such ways as shall please him, to his glory. Let the bitter passion of Christ, which he suffered for your sake, and the horrible torments which the godly martyrs of Christ have endured before us, and also the inestimable reward of your life to come, which is hidden yet a little while from you with Christ, strengthen, comfort, and encourage you to the end of that glorious race which you are in. Amen. Your yoke-fellow in captivity for the verity of Christ's gospel, to live and die with you in the unity of faith, John Philpot. We have gone at some length into the report of this case, be- cause it gives a perfect insight of the manner in which the persecu- tors of those days strove, by va- rious arts, to overcome the faith of those who were brought before them. They at first tried, by insi- dious and soothing speeches, and by pretended compassion for their prisoners, to induce them to aban- don the cross which they had taken up ; these failing, they then begaii to shew the natural malignity and bloodthirstiness of their hearts: their victims were overwhelmed with abuse, and exposed to every species of cruelty and ill-treat- ment; still the hypocritical whin?- REV. THOMAS WHITTLE. 621 ■of oompfrssion was kept up; they tortured the Protestant only to l)rove (heir regard for his soul, and brought him to the stake only to make him " conformable' — that is, they merely wished him to give up the exercise of that reason with which his Creator had endowed him, and to adopt, instead of the pure and benevolent principles of the reformed religion, the mon- strous, absurd, and blasphemous tenets of popery — in return for which sacrifice, tiiey graciously promised to allow him to retain a life, which no law, but one issuing from the Pandemonium of the prime object of their idolatry, the Pope, could have ever given them authority to deprive him (if. What heart but must revolt from the contemplation of the bare possibi- lity of such enormities being again enacted in this country, once so happily rescued from the tyranny of papal domination? And yet, alas! who can deny that the fatal security in which Protestants have so long indulged, and the unwea- ried assiduity of their adversaries, may, — nay, will — establish Anti- christ again in the throne, and al- low him again to wallow in the blood of the saints, unless they be roused by this timely warning, to shake oft' their slumber, and oppose the enemy at every point? SECTION XIII. HISTORY OF THOMAS WHITTLE, BARTLF.T GREEN, JOHN TUDSON, JOHN WENT, THOMAS BROWNE, ISABEL FOSTER, AND JOAN WARNE, OTHER- WISE LASHFORD, WHO WERE ALL BURNED AT SMITHFIELD, JANUARY 27, 1556. The above martyrs were all con- demned under one general form of articles objected against them, and which ran, as usual, upon the com- mon points of doctrine, namely, their denial of the pope's supre- macy; their objections to the er- rors of the mass, &c. in the Romish church, and their refusal to attend the same, with their public avowal of their abhorrence to the whole. They severally answered to the various objections with all the boldness and simplicity of truth. We shall give a brief relation of their stories, beginning with THE REV. THOMAS WHITTLE. Mention has been made in the account of Mr. Philpot, of a mar- ried priest, whom he found in bi- shop Bonner's coal-house at his first going thither, in heaviness of mind and great sorrow, for recant- ing the doctrine he had taught in king Edward's days, whose name was Thomas Whittle, of Essex. This Thomas Whittle, after he had been expelled from the place in Essex where he served, became an itinerant preacher, sowing the gos- pel of Christ, wherever he found opportunity. At length being ap- prehended by one Edmund Ala- blaster, in hope of reward and pro- motion, he was brought first as pri- soner before the bishop of Win- chester, who then was lately fallen sick of the disease, whereof not long after he died. But the ap- prehender for his proff"ered service was checked by the bishop, who asked, " If there were no man unto whom he might bring such rascals, but to him? Hence! out of my sight, thou varlet," cried he; " why dost thou trouble me with such matters?" The cormorant being thus defeated of his desired prey, yet unwilling to give it up, carried his prisoner to the bishop of Lon- don, by whom Whittle was cruelly treated, as appears from the fol- lowing letter to one of his friends. " Upon Thursday, which was the tenth of January, the bishop of London sent for me, Thomas Whittle, minister, out of the 'por- ter's lodge, where I had been all night, lying on the earth, on a little low bed, where I had as painful a night of sickness as ever I had. And when I came before him, he 622 BOOK OF MARTYRS. talked with me upon many things of the sacrament so grossly, as is not worthy to be rehearsed. And amongst other things, he asked me, if I would have come to mass that morning if he had sent for me. I answered, that I would have come to him at his commandment, but to your mass (said I) I have small aflection. At which answer he was sore displeased, and said, I should be fed with bread and wa- ter. And as I followed him through the great hall, he turned back, and beat me with his fist, first on the one cheek, and then on the other, as the sign of my beating did many days appear. And then he led me to a little salt- house, where I had neither straw nor bed, but lay two nights on a table, and slept soundly. " On the Friday after, I was brought to my lord, when he gave me many fair words, and said he would be good to me. And so he going to Fulham, committed me to Dr. Harpsfield, that he and I, in that afternoon, should commune together, and draw out certain articles, whereunto if I would sub- scribe, I should be dismissed. But Dr. Harpsfield sent not for me till night, and then persuaded me very mUch to forsake my opinions. I answered, I held nothing but the truth, and therefore I could not so lightly turn therefrom. So I thought I should at that time have had no more ado : but he had made a certain bill, which the re- gister pulled out of his bosom, and read. The bill indeed was very easily made, and therefore more dangerous ; for the effect thereof was to detest all errors and here- sies against the sacrament of the altar, and other sacraments, and to believe the faith of the Catholic church, and live accordingly. " To this bill I did also set my han^J, being much desired and counselled so to do; and the flesh being always desirous to have li- berty, I considered not thoroughly the inconvenience that might come thereupon; and respite I desired to have had, but earnestly they de- sired me to subscribe. Now when I had done so, I had little joy thereof; for by and by my mind and conscience told me by God's word that I had done evil, by such a slight means to shake olT the sweet cross of Christ; and yet it was not my seeking, as God know- eth, but altogether came of them. " The night after I had sub- scribed I was sore grieved, and for sorrow of conscience could not sleep. For in the deliverance of my body out of bonds, which I might have had, I could find no joy nor comfort, but still was in my conscience tormented more and more, being assured by God's Spi- rit and his word, that I through evil counsel and advice had done amiss. And both with discjuietude of mind, and my other cruel han- dling, I was sickly ; lying upon the ground when the keeper came ; and so I desired him to pray Dr. Harpsfield to come to me, and so he did. " And when he came, and the register with him, I told him that I was not well at ease, but that I was grieved very much in my con- science and mind because I had subscribed. And I said that my conscience had so accused me, through the just judgment of God and his word, that I had felt hell in m}' conscience, and Satan ready to devour me ; and therefore I pray you, Mr. Harpsfield, (said I) let me have the bill again, for I will not stand to it. So he gently commanded it to be fetched, and gave it me, and suffered me to put out my name, whereof I was right glad when I had so done, although death should follow. And hereby I had experience of God's provi- dence and mercy towards me, who trieth his people, and sulfercth them to fall, but not to be lost: for in the midst of this temptation and trouble, he gave me warning of my deed, and also delivered me ; hiji name be praised for evermore. Amen. " Neither devil nor cruel tyrant can pluck any of Christ's sheep out of his hand. Of which flock of BARTLET GREEN. 523 Christ's sheep I trust undoubtedly I am one, by means of his death and blood-shedding, and shall at the last day stand at his iio;ht hand, and reeeive with others his blessed benediction. And now, being condemned to die, my con- science and mind, I praise God, is quiet in Christ, and I by his grace am \ery willing and content to give over this body to the death, lor the testimony of his truth and pure religion, against Antichrist and all his false religion and doc- trine. By me, " Thomas Whittle, Minister." CONDEMNATION AND MARTYRDOM OF MR. WHITTLE. At his last examination before the bishop" upon the 14th day of January, 1556, bishop Bonner, with others, sitting in his consis- tory in the afternoon, first called fortli Thomas Whittle, with whom he began as follows: "Because you be a priest," said he, " as I and other bishops here be, and did receive the order of priesthood after the rite and form of the Ca- tholic church, you shall not think bat I will administer justice as well unto you as unto others." Bonner then charged him with the several articles mentioned above, to which Whittle made spi- rited and pertinent replies: when the bishop, finding that neither threats nor entreaties had any ef- fect on him, forthwith proceeded to his degradation. Whittle, in the midst of the ce- remonies, when he saw them so busy in degrading him, sciid uiilo' them, " Paul and Titus had not so much to do with their priests and bishops." And, speaking to the bishop, he said, " My lord, your religion standeth most with the church of Rome, and not with the Catholic church of Christ." The bishop, after this, according- to his accustomed formal proceed- ings, tried him yet again with words, rather than with substantial arguments, to conform him to his religion, and asked, what fault liQ found in the administration of the sacrament of the altar? Whittle answered, " It is not used according to Christ's institu- tion, in that it is privately and not openly done. And also because it is administered but in one kind to the lay-people, which is against Christ's ordinance. Farther, Christ commanded it not to be elevated nor adored: for the adoration and elevation cannot be proved by Scripture." "Weil," said Bonner, "my lords here, and other learned men, have shewed great learning for thy conversion, wherefore if thou wilt yet return to the faith and religion of the Catholic church, I will re- ceive thee thereunto, and not com- mit thee to the secular power." But Whittle, strengthened with the grace of the Lord, stood strong and immovable in what he had af- firmed. Wherefore the sentence being read, the next day he was committed to the secular power, and in a few days after brought to the fire with the six persons above- named, sealing the testimony of his doctrine with his blood, which he willingly and cheerfully gave for witness of the truth. BARTLET GREEN, Was of a respectable family, and was blessed with parents who, un- derstanding the value of a good education, were anxious to bestow one upon their son. After having been placed at preparatory schools, he was sent to the university of Oxford, where, by his diligence, he made great advances in his stu- dies ; but was, for a time, so far from feeling any interest in eter- nal things, that he was utterly averse to the subject. At length, by attending the lectures of Peter Martyr, then reader of the divi- nily-lecture, his mind Avas struck with the importance of religion. When he had once tasted of this, it became unto him as the fountain of living water, that our Saviour Christ spake of to the woman of Samaria ; insomuch that when he 524 BOOK OF MARTYRS. ■was called by his friends from the university, and was placed in the Temple at London, there to study the common laws of the realm, he still continued, with great ear- nestness, to read and search the scriptures. But, (such is the frailty of our corrupt nature, without the special assistance of God's Holy Spirit) through the continual fellowship of such worldly youth as are common- ly in that and the like places, he be- came by little and little a partaker in their follies, as well in his ap- parel, as also in banquetings, and other superfluous excesses : which he afterwards bewailed sorely, as appears by his own testimony, left in a book belonging to Mr. Bartram Calthorpe, one of his friends, written a little before his death, as follows: "Two things have very much troubled me while I was in the Temple, pride and gluttony ; which under the colour of glory and good fellowship, drew me almost from God. Against both there is one remedy, by earnest prayer, and without ceasing. And forasmuch as vain glory is so subtle an adver- sary, that almost it woundeth deadly, ere ever a man can per- ceive himself to be smitten, there- fore we ought so much the rather by continual prayer to labour for humbleness of mind. Truly, glut- tony beginneth under a charitable pretence of mutual love and so- ciety, and hath in it most unchari- tableness. When we seek to re- fresh our bodies, that they may be more apt to serve God, and per- form our duties towards our neigh- bours, then it stealeth in as a privy thief, and murdereth both body and soul, that now it is not apt to pray, or serve God, apt to study or labour for our neighbour. Let Tis therefore watch and be sober : for our adversary the devil walk- eth about like a roaring lion, seek- ing whom he may devour. " Agreement of minds joining in unity of faith, and growing up in charity, is true and steadfast amity. Farewell, my Bartram, and remem- ber me, that ever we may be like together. Farewell ; at Newgate, Jan. 26, 1556. " Set sober love against hasty wrath. " Bartlet Green." Thus we sec the fatherly kind- ness of our most gracious and merciful God, who never sulTereth his elect children so to fail, that they lie still in security of sin, but oftentimes quickeneth them up by such means, as perhaps they think least of. And now to return to our history : for the better maintenance of himself in his studies, and other his allairs, he had a large allow- ance of his grandfather. Dr. Bart- let, who during the time of Green's imprisonment made him oti'ers of great livings, if he would recant, and return to the church of Rome. But his persuasions took no efl'ect in his grandson's faithful heart. He was a man beloved of all (ex- cept the papists, who esteem none that love the truth), and so he well deserved ; for he was of a meek, humble, discreet, and gentle be- haviour to all ; injurious to none, beneficial to many, especially to those who were of the household of faith. The cause of Mr. Green's suf- ferings originated from a letter of his being intercepted. This letter was written to an exiled friend, who having, in a letter to Mr. Green, amongst other things, asked whether the queen was dead, as a report of that nature had been cir- culated on the continent ; Mr. Green, after answering other ques- tions, briefly said in his letter — " the queen is not dead." These letters, with many others, written to the godly exiles, by their friends in England, being de- livered to a messenger to carry over, came, by the apprehension of the bearer, into the hands of the council ; ,who perused the whole of them, and amongst them found that of Mr. Green, written to his friend Christopher Goodman ; in THOMAS BROWN— JOHN TUDSON. 525 the contents whereof they found the words, mentioned above ; which words were only written as a sim- ple answer to a question. How- beit, to some of the council they seemed very heinous words, yea, treason tliey would have made them, if the law would have suf- fered. Which M'hen they could not do, they then examined him upon his faith in religion. His answers displeased them ; he was committed to prison, and, after being confined for some time, was, at length, sent to bishop Bonner. Many conferences and examina- tions they brought him to. Bat in the end (seeing his steadiness of faith to be such that neither their threatenings, nor their flattering promises could prevail against it), the 15th day of January the bishop caused him, with the others before mentioned, to be brought into the consistory of St. Paul's ; where being set in his judgment seat, accompanied by Fecknara, his dean, and his chaplains, after he had condemned the other six, he called for Bartlet Green, and again repeated the articles to him. After which Dr. Fecknam disputed with him upon the real presence of Christ in the sacrament, &c. At length, impatient of longer delay, Bonner demanded if he would recant and return to his Romish mother ; and on his answering in the negative, he pronounced the definitive sentence against him, and then committed him to the she- riffs of London, who sent him to Newgate. As he was going thither, two gen- tlemen met him, particular friends, who wished to comfort this their persecuted brother, but their hearts not being able to contain their sor- row, " Ah, my dear friends," said the martyr, " is this the comfort you are come to give me, in this my occasion of heaviness ? Must I, who needed to have consolation ministered to me, become now a comforter of you?" And thus de- claring his most quiet peaceable mind and conscience, he cheerfully spake to them and others, until he came to the prison door, into which he joyfully entered, and there re- mained either in prayer or medita- tion until the 28th of January, when he, with his brethren, went most cheerfully to the place of their tor- ments. THOMAS BROWN, Was born in the parish of His- ton, in the diocese of Ely, and came afterwards to London, where he dwelt in the parish of St. Bride's, in Fleet-street. He was a married man, aged thirty-seven, and his troubles first arose because he came not to his parish church, for which neglect he was presented by the constable of the parish to bishop Bonner. Being brought to Fulham with the others to be ex- amined, he was required to come into the chapel to hear mass, which he refusing to do, went into the warren, and there kneeled among the trees. For this he was greatly charged by the bishop as for an heinous matter, because he said it was done in despite and contempt of their mass. At length being brought to his last examination be- fore the said bishop, on the 15th of January, there to hear the defini- tive sentence against him, he was required, with many fair words and glossing promises, to revoke his doctrine. But he resisted with steadfast faith, and told the bishop he was a blood-sucker. After this, Bonner read the sen- tence against him; which being done, he was committed to the sherifl's to be burned on the day appointed. JOHN TUDSON, Was also brought forth unto the like condemnation. He was born in Ipswich, and apprenticed in London to George Goodyear. Being complained of to sir Richard Cholmley and Dr. Story, he was by them sent to Bonner, and was divers times before him in ex- amination. On his last examination, when the bishop promised, on condition 526 BOOK OF MARTYRS. of his recanting, to forgive liim all his offences, he demanded Mherein he had offended. Then said the bishop, "In- your answers." — "No," replied Tudson, "I have not therein offended ; and you, my lord, pretend charity, but no- things thereof appeareth in your works." Thus, after a fevr words, the bishop pronounced against him sentence of condemnation ; which being read, the martyr was com- mitted to the secular power, and so with much patience finished this life with his fellows on the 27th day of January. JOHN WENT, Born in Langham, in Essex, was twenty-seven years of age. He was first examined by Dr. Story upon the sacrament of the altar; and because the poor man did not accord with him thoroughly in th6 real presence of the body and blood of Christ, Dr. Story sent him to Bonner, who likewise, after vari- ous examinations upon the articles in the consistory, attempted the like manner of persuasions with him as he did to the others, to re- cant and return. To whom, in very few words, Went answered, " He would not ; but that, by the leave of God, he would stand firm and constant in what he had said." Whereupon being condemned by the bishop's sentence, he was com- mitted unto the sheriffs, and so brought to his martyrdom, which he with no less constancy suffered to the end, with the rest of that blessed society. ISABEL FOSTER, Was born in Grafestock, in the diocese of Carlisle, and was the wife of John Foster, cutler, of St. Bride's, Fleet-street. She like- wise, for not coming to their church, was sent to bishop Bon- ner, who put her in prison, and examined her sundry times, but she would never be removed from the constant confession of Christ's gospel. At length, coming unto her final examination before the bishop, she was tried again, whether she would yet go from her former an- swers. Whereunto she gave a resolute answer; "I will not," said she, " go from them, by God's grace." The bishop, promising both life and libeity, if she would associate herself in the unity of the catholic church, she said again, "That she trusted she was never out of the Catholic church ; and so persisting in the same, conti- nued constant till the sentence was pronounced, when she was com- raitted by command of the bishop to the secular power, and so brought a few days after to the stake, being fifty-five years of age. JOAN LASHFORD, ALIAS WARNE, Was the daughter of Elizabeth Warne, by her first husband, Ro- bert Lashford. The reader may remember the story of John and Elizabeth Warne, who both suf- fered for the cause of truth, as re- lated in a former part of this book; and when her father and mother were in prison, Joan, then about twenty years of age, attended upon them and administered to their wants with all the tenderness and afiection of a dutiful child. She was soon discovered to hold the same doctrines as her parents, and was, in consequence, sent to Bon- ner, bishop of London, by Dr. Story, and so cotnmitted to the Poultry Compter, where she re- mained about live weeks, and from thence she was conveyed to New- gate, where she continued some months. After that, feihaining prisoner in the custody of Bonner, and being examined, her confession was, that for above a twelvemonth be- fore, she caine not to the popish mass service in church, neither would, either to receive the sa- crament of the altar, or to be con- fessed, because her conscience would not suffer her so to do ; pro- testing against the real presence of Christ's body and blood ; and denying that auricular confession, or absolution after the popish sort, was necessary ; but said, that both LETTER FROM MR. WHITTLE. 527 the said sacraments, confession and absolution, and the mass, with all their other snperlluous sacra- ments, ceremonies, and divine ser- vice, as then used in this realm of England, were most vile, and con- trary to Christ's word and institu- tion ; so that they were neither at the beginning, nor shall be at the latter end. This resolute maid, feeble and tender of age, ^yet strong by grace in her confession and faith, stood so firm, that nei- ther the promises nor the threats of the bishops could turn her: and on being exhorted by the bishop to return to the Catholic unity of the church, she boldly said, " If you will leave ofl' your abomination, T will return, and otherwise I will not. Do as it pleaseth you, and I pray God that you may do that which may please him." . And thus she constantly perse- vering in the truth, was condemn- ed and committed to the sheriifs, by whom she with the rest was brought unto the stake, and there Avashed her clothes in the blood of the Lamb. THEIR MARTYRDOMS. On the 27th of January, 1556, these seven believers in, and faithful servants of, Christ, were conducted from Newgate to Smith- field, there to endure the last tor- ments that could be inflicted on them by their cruel persecutors. They all went with great cheer- fulness, singing hymns to the praise of their Redeemer, both in the way to, and at the place of ex- ecution. Bartlet Green, in par- ticular, frequently repeated the following lines : O Christ, my God, sure hope of health, Besides thee have I none : The truth I love, and falsehood hate; Be thou my guide alone. They were chained to three dif- ferent stakes, but consumed toge- ther in one fire, freely yielding up their lives in testimony of the truth, and sealing, with their blood, the doctrines of that gospel they had so zealously supported. Two of these noble martyrs, namely, Thomas "Whittle, and Bartlet Green, wrote a great num- ber of letters, to tlieir friends and acquaintances, during their confine- ment; and as we liave already given an extract from one of Green's, we now present one writ- ten by Mr. Whittle. "My dear and well-beloved brethren in Christ, Mr. Filles and Cuthbert, I wish you all welfare of soul and body. Welfare to the soul is repentance of sin, faithful alliance in Christ Jesus, and a godly life. Welfare to the body is the health of the same, with all necessary things for this life. The soul of man is immortal, and, therefore, ought to be well kept, lest immortality of joy should turn to immortality of sorrow. As for the body, be it never so well kept, and much made of, yet shortly, by nature, will it perish and decay : but those that are ingrafted and incorporated into Christ by true faith, feeling the motion of God's holy spirit, as a pledge of their election and inheritance, exciting and stirring them not only to seek heavenly things, but also to hate vice, and embrace virtue, will not only do these things, but also, if need require, will gladly take up their cross, and follow their cap- tain, their king and their Saviour Jesus Christ, (as his poor afflicted church of England now doth) against that false and Anti-Chris- tian doctrine and religion now used, and especially that blasphe- mous mass, wherein Christ's Sup- per, and holy ordinance, is altoge- ther perverted and abused, con- trary to his institution, and to Paul's proceedings: so that that which they have in their mass, is neither sacrament of Christ, nor yet sacrifice for sin, as the priests falsely pretend. It is a sacrament, that is, as St. Augus- tine saith, ' A visible sign of in- visible grace,' when it is admi- nistered to the communicants ac- cording to Christ's example, and as it was, of late years, in this realm. And as for sacrifice, there 528 BOOK OF MARTYRS. is none to be made now for sin : ' For Christ, with one sacrifice, hath perfected for evir those that are sanctified.' " Beware of false relij?ion, and men's vain traditions, and serve God with reverence and godly fear, accordina; to the doctrine of his gospel ; whereto cleave ye that ye may be blessed, though of wick- ed men ye are hated and accursed. Rather drink of the cup of Christ with his church, than of the cup of that rose-coloured whore of Babylon, which is full of abomina- tions. Rather strive ye to go to hea- ven by the path which is straight to flesh and blood, with the little flock, than to go in the wide way, following the enticements of the world and the flesh, which leadeth to damnation. ~" Like as Christ sufl'ered in the flesh, saith St. Peter, so arm ye yourselves with the same mind : for Christ sufl'ered for us, leaving us an example to follow his foot- steps. Blessed are they that suf- fer for his sake ; great is their re- ward in heaven. He that over- cometh (saith St. John, Rev. 2, 3). shall eat of the tree of life ; he shall have a crown of life, and not be hurt of the second death: he shall be clothed with white array, and not be put out of the book of life; yea, I will confess his name, saith Christ, before my father, and before his angels, and he shall be a pillar in the house of God, and sit with me on my seat. And thus I bid you farewell, mine own brethren, and dear fellows in Christ ; whose grace and peace be always with you. Amen. This world I do forsake. To Christ I inetake. And for his gospel's sake. Patiently death I take. My body to the dust. Now to return it must ; M,y soul, 1 know full well. With my God it shall dwell. "Thomas Whitfle."' SECTION XIV. HISTORY OF JOHN LOMAS, ANNE ALBRIGHT, JOAN CATMi:R, AONt'.S SNOTH, AND JOAN SOLE, WHO WERE BURNT AT CANThRBUR'if IFi ONE FIRE. These martyrs sufl'ered for the truth of the gospel on the 31st day of January, 1556. JOHN LOMAS, Of the parish of Teuterden, was discovered to be of that religion which the papists call heresy, and cited upon the same to appear at Canterbury, where he was exa- mined there as to whether he be- lieved the Catholic church or not ; he answered, that " he believed so mlich as was contained in God's book, and no more." He was then ordered to appear again on the following "Wednes- day, which was the 17th day of January, when he was examined, whether he would be confessed by a priest or not ; he said, that " he found it not written that he should be confessed to any priest, in God's book, neither would he be confessed, unless he were accused, by some man, of sin." Again, be- ing examined whether he believed the body of Christ to be in the sa- crament of the altar really under the forms of bread and wine after the consecration ? He answered, that '* he believed no reality of Christ's body to be in the sacra- ment ; neither found he written, that he is there under form or trestle, but he believed so much as was written." Being then asked whether he believed that there was a Catholic church or no, and whe- ther he would be content to be a member of the same, he answered, that " he believed so much as was written in God's book," and other answer than this he refused to give. "Whereupon sentence was read against him on the 18th of January, and so he was commit- ted to the secular power, and, af- 1 AGNES SNOTH— ANNE ALBRIGHT, &( 529 terwards, saflFered for the true faith, with the four women fol- lowing. AGNES SNOTH, Was a widow, of the parish of Smardeu, and was likewise cited and accused for her faith. She was divers times examined, and being compelled to answer to such articles and interrogatories as should be administered unto her, she first denied to be confessed to a priest. And as touching the sa- crament of the altar, she protest- ed that if she or any other did re- ceive the sacrament so as Christ and his apostles after him did de- liver it, then she and they did re- ceive it to their comfort: but as it is now used in the church, she said that no man could othervvise receive it than to his damnation, as she thought. Afterwards, being examined again concerning pe- nance, whether it were a sacra- nient or not, she plainly denied it. Whereupon the sentence be- ing likewise read, she was com- mitted to the sheriffs of Canter- bury, and suflered with her faithful companions. iiasil cruMy tonured to deadi by unUr ly Julian the Apostate, A. D, 362. ANNE ALBRIGHT. This female, strong in her be- lief, on appearing before the judge and his colleagues, told them, that " she would not be confessed by a priest." And speaking to the judge and his assistants, she told them that they were subverters of Christ's truth. And concerning the sacrament FOX'S MARTYRS. of the altar, she said "it was a wicked and abominable idol." Thus persevering in her former sayings and answers, she was con- demned on the 18th of January, and suffered with the others before- mentioned. JOAN SOLE, Was of the parish of Horton, 34 630 BOOK OF MARTYRS. and was accused by the priests of denyin}^ auricular confession, and the real presence and substance of Christ to be in the sacrament. She was accordingly condemned and biought to the stake. JOAN CATMER, The fifth and last of this little company of martyrs, was of the parish of Hith, wife of George Catmer, who had suffered before. She, also refusing to be confessed by a priest, and denying the bo- dily presence in the sacrament, was, in consequence, condemned and burnt. These five steadfast servants of God, and willing followers of Christ, were bound together at two stakes, rejoicing in the Hames, and chaunting hallelujahs to God and the Lamb, who had given them the victory over all their ene- mies, and a good hope, through grace, that when this earthly ta-' bernacle was dissolved, they should have a house, not made with hands, but eternal in the heavens. SECTION XV. tlFE, SUFFERINGS, AND MARTYRDOM OF THOMAS CRANMER, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, WHO WAS BURNT AT OXFORD, MARCH 21, 1556. This eminent prelate was born at Aslacton, in Nottinghamshire, on the 2d of July, 1489. His fa- mily was ancient, and came in with William the Conqueror. He was early deprived of his father, and, after a common school educa- tion, was sent by his mother to Cambridge, at the age of fourteen, according to the custom of those times. Having completed his studies at the university, he took the usual degrees, and was so well be- loved that he was chosen fellow of Jesus college, and became ce- lebrated for his great learning and abilities. In 1521 he married, by which he forfeited his fellowship ; but his wife dying in child-bed within a year after his marriage, he was re- elected. This favour he gratefully acknowledged, and chose to de- cline an offer of a much more va- luable fellowship in cardinal Wol- sey's new seminary at Oxford, rather than relinquish friends who had treated him with the most dis- tinguished respect. In 1523 he commenced doctor of divinity ; and being in great es- teem for theological learning, fee was chosen divinity lecturer in his own college, and appointed, by the university, one of the ex- aminers in that science. In this office he principally inculcated the study of the holy scriptures, then greatly neglected,as being indispen- sably necessary for the professors of that divine knowledge. The plague happening to break out at Cambridge, Mr. Crahmer, with some of his pupils, removed to Waltham-abbey, where, meeting with Gardiner and Fox, one the secretary, the other almoner of king Henry VIII., that monarch's in- tended divorce of Catherine his queen, the common subject of dis- course in those days, was men- tioned: when Cranmer advising an application to our own, and to the foreign universities, for their opinion in the case, and giving these gentlemen much satisfaction, they introduced him to the king, who was so pleased with him, that he ordered him to write his thoughts on the subject, made him his chaplain, and admitted him into that favour and esteem, whicK he never afterwards forfeited. In 1530 he was sent by the king, with a solemn embassy, to dispute on the subject of the divorce, at Paris, Rome, and other foreign parts. At Rome he delivered his book, which he had written in de- fence of the divorce, to the pope, and offered to justify it in a public disputation : but after various pro- mises and appointments none ap- peared to oppose him; while in pjivate conferences he forced them ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 531 fo confess that the marrias^c was contrary to the law of God. The pope constituted him penitentiary- general of Ent^land, and dismissed him. In Germany he gave full sa- tisfaction to many learned men, who were before of a contrary per- suasion; and prevailed on the fa- mous Osander (whose niece lie married while there) to declare the kintf's marriage unlawful. During the time he was abroad, the great archbishop Warham died: Henry, convinced of Cran- mer's merit, determined that he should succeed him: and com- manded him to return for that pui- pose. He suspected the cause, and delayed : he was desirous, by all means, to decline this high sta- tion: for he had a true and primi- tive sense of the office. But a spi- rit so dilTerent from that of the churchmen of his times, stimulated the king's resolution; and the more reluctance Cranmer shewed, the greater resolution Henry ex- erted. He was consecrated on March 30, 1533, to the office; and though he received the usual bulls from the pope, he protested, at his consecration, against the oath of allegiance, &c. to him. For he had conversed freely with the re- formed in Germany, had read Lu- ther's books, and was zealously attached to the glorious cause of reformation. The first service he did the king in his archiepiscopal character, was, pronouncing the sentence of his divorce from queen Catherine: and the next was joining his hand with Anne Boleyn, the conse- quence of which marriage was the birth of the glorious Elizabeth, to whom he stood godfather. As the queen was greatly inte- rested in the reformation, the friends to that good work began to conceive high hopes ; and, indeed, it went on with desirable success. But the fickle disposition of the king, and the fatal end of the un- happy Anne, for a while, alarmed their fears; though, by God's pro- vidence, without any ill effects. The pope's supremacy was uni- versally exploded: monasteries, &c. destroyed, upon the fullest de- tection of the most abominable vices and wickedness existing in them: that valuable book of the " Erudition of a Christian Man," was set forth by our great archbi- shop, with public autliority: and the sacred Scriptures, at length, to the infinite joy of Cranmer, and of lord Cromwell, his constant friend and associate, were not only trans- lated, but introduced into every parish. The translation was re- ceived with inexpressible joy: every one, that was able, pur- chased it, and the poor flocked greedily to hear it read: some persons in years learned to read on purpose that they might peruse it: and even little children crowded with eagerness to hear it! We cannot help reflecting, on this oc- sion, how much we are bound to prize this sacred treasure, which we enjoy so perfectly ; and how much to contend against every at- tempt of those enemies, and that church, which would deprive us of it, and again reduce us to legends and schoolmen, to ignorance and idolatry ! Cranmer, that he might proceed with true judgment, made a collec- tion of opinions from the works of the ancient fathers and later doc- tors ; of which work Dr. Burnet saw two volumes in folio; and it appears, by a letter of lord Bur- leigh, that there were then six vo- lumes of Cranmer's collections in his hands. A work of incredible labour, and of vast utility. A short time after this, he gave a shining proof of his sincere and disinterested constancy, by his no- ble opposition to what are com- monly called king Henry's six bloody articles, which we have de- scribed in a former part of this vo- lume. However, he weathered the storm; and published, with an incomparable preface, written by himself, the larger Bible; six of which, even Bonner, then newly consecrated bishop of London, 532 BOOK OF MARTYRS. caused to be fixed, for the perusal of the people, in his cathedral of St. Paul's. The enemies of the reformation, however, were restless: and Henry, alas! was no protestant in Ills heart. Cromwel'l fell a sacri- fice to them ; and they aimed their malignant shafts at Cranmer. Gar- diner, in particular, was indefati- gable: he caused him to be ac- cused in parliament, and several lords of the privy council moved the king to commit the archbishop to the Tower. The king perceived their malice; and one evening, on pretence of diverting himself on the water, ordered his barge to be rowed to Lambeth. The archbi- shop, being informed of it, came down to pay his respects, and was ordered, by the king, to come into the barge, and sit close by him. Henry made him acquainted with the accusations of heresy, faction, &c. which were laid against him ; and spoke of his opposition to the six articles: the archbishop mo- destly replied, that he could not but acknowledge himself to be of the same opinion, with respect to them, but was not conscious of Laving offended against them. The king then, putting on an air of pleasantry, asked him. If his bed- chamber could stand the test of tbese articles? The archbishop confessed, that he was married in Germany, before his promotion; but he assured the king, that on the passing of that act, he had parted with his wife, and sent her abroad to her friends. His ma- jesty was so charmed with his openness and integrity, that he discovered the whole plot that M^as laid against him ; and gave him a ring of great value to produce upon any future emergency. A few days after this, Cranmer's enemies summoned him to appear before the council. He accord- ingly attended, when they suffered him to wait in the lobby, amongst the servants, treated him on his admission with haughty contempt, and would have sent him to the Tower. But he produced the ring, which changed their tone; and, while his enemies received a se- vere reprimand from Henry, Cran- mer himself gained the highest de- gree of security and favour. On this occasion he shewed that lenity and mildness for which he was always so much distinguished: he never persecuted any of his ene- mies ; but, on the contrary, freely forgave even the inveterate Gardi- ner, on his writing a supplicatory letter to him. The same lenity he shewed towards Dr. Thornton, the suffragan of Dover, and Dr. Bar- ber, who, though entertained in his family, intnisted with his secrets, and indebted to him for many fa- vours, had ungratefully conspired with Gardiner to take away his life. When Cranmer first discovered their treachery, he took them aside into his study, and telling them, that he had been basely and falsely accused by some in whom he had always reposed the greatest confi- dence, desired them to advise him how he should behave himself to- wards them? They, not suspect- ing themselves to be concerned in the question, replied, that *' such vile, abandoned villains ought to be prosecuted with the greatest ri- gour ; nay, deserved to die without mercy." At this the archbishop, lifting up his hands to heaven, cried out, "Merciful God! whom may a man trust?" And then tak- ing out of his bosom the letters by which he had discovered their treachery, asked them, if they knew those papers? When they saw their own letters produced against them, they were in the ut- most confusion; and falling down upon their knees, humbly sued for forgiveness. The archbishop told them, " that he forgave them, and would pray for them; but that they must not expect him ever to trust them for the future." As we are upon the subject of the archbishop's readiness to for- give and forget injuries, it may not be improper here to relate a ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 533 pleasant instance of it, whicli hap- pened some time before the above circumstances. The archbishop's first wife, whom he married at Cambridg:e, was kinswoman to the hostess at the Dolphin-inn, and boarded there; and he often resorting thither on that account, the popish party had raised a story, that he had been ostler to that inn, and never had the benelit of a learned education. This idle story a York- shire priest had, with great confi- dence, asserted, in an alehouse which he used to frequent; railing at the archbishop, and saying, that he had no more learning than a goose. Some people of the parish informed lord Cromwell of this, and the priest was committed to the Fleet prison. When he had been there nine or ten weeks, he sent a relation of his to the archbi- shop, to beg his pardon, and to sue for a discharge. The archbishop instantly sent for him, and, after a gentle reproof, asked the priest, whether he knew him? To which he answering, " No," the archbi- shop expostulated with him, why he should then make so free with Lis character ? The priest ex- cused himself, by saying he was disguised with liquor : but this Cranmer told him was a double fault. He then said to the priest, if he was inclined to try what a scholar he was, he should have li- berty to oppose him in whatever science he pleased. The priest humbly asked his pardon, and con- fessed himself to be very ignorant, and to understand nothing but his mother-tongue. " No doubt then," said Cranmer, " you are well versed in the English Bible, and can answer any questions out of that; pray tell me, who was Da- vid's father?" The priest stood still for some time to consider; but, at last, told the archbishop he could not recollect his name. " Tell me then," said Cranmer, "who was Solomon's father?" The poor priest replied, that he had no skill in genealogies, and could not tell. The archbishop then, advising him to frequent ale- houses less, and his study more, and admonishing him not to ac- cuse others for want of learning till he was master of some himself, discharged him out of custody, and sent him home to his cure. These may serve as instances of Cranmer's clement temper. In- deed, he was much blamed by many for his too great lenity ; which, it was thought, encouraged the popish faction to make fresh attempts against him: but he was happy in giving a shining example of that great Christian virtue which he diligently taught. The king, who was a good dis- cerner of men, remarking the im^ placable hatred of Cranmer's ene- mies towards him, changed his coat of arms from three cranes to three pelicans, feeding their young with their own blood; and told the archbishop, "that these birds should signify to him, that he ought to be ready, like the pelican, to shed his blood for his young ones, brought up in the faith of Christ; for," said the king, "you are like to be tried, if you will stand to your tackling, at length." The event proved the king to be no bad prophet. In 1547, Henry died, and left his crown to his only son, Edward, who was godson to Cranmer, and had imbibed all the spirit of a re- former. This excellent young prince, influenced no less by his own inclinations than by the ad- vice of Cranmer, and the other friends of reformation, was diligent in every endeavour to promote it. Homilies, and a catechism, were composed by the archbishop; Erasmus's notes on the New Test- ament were translated, and fixed in churches; the sacrament was administered in both kinds; and the liturgy was read in the vulgar tongue. Ridley, the archbishop's great friend, and one of the bright- est lights of the English reforma- tion, was equally zealous in the good cause : and in concert with him the archbishop drew up the forty-two articles of religion, which 534 BOOK OF MARTYRS. were revised by other bishops and divines; as, through him, he had pericclly conquered all his scru- ples respecting the doctrine of the corporeal presence, and published a much esteemed treatise, intitled, "A Defence of the True and Ca- tholic Doctrine of the Sacrament of the Body and Blood of our Lord, Jesus Christ." But this happy scene of pros- perity was not to continue : God was pleased to deprive the na- tion of king Edward, in 1553, de- signing, in his wise providence, to perfect the new-born church of his son Jesus Christ in England, by the blood of martyrs, as at the beginning he perfected the church in general. Anxious for the success of the reformation, and Avronght upon by the artifices of the duke of Nor- thumberland, Edward had been persuaded to exclude his sisters, and to bequeath the crown to that duke's amiable and every way deserving daughter-in-law, the lady Jane Gray. The arch- bishop did his utmost to oppose this alteration in the succession ; but the king was over-ruled ; the will was made, and subscribed by the council and the judges. The archbishop was sent for, last of all, and required to subscribe ; but he answered that he could not do so without perjury ; having sworn to the entail of the crown on the two princesses Mary and Eliza- beth. To this the king replied, -"that the judges, who, being best skilled in the constitution, ought to be regarded in this point, had assured him, that notwithstanding that entail, he might lawfully be- queath the crown to lady Jane." The archbishop desired to dis- course with them himself about it; and they all agreeing, that he might lawfully subscribe the king's will, he was at last prevailed with to resign his own private scruples to their authority, and set his hand to it. Having done this, he thought himself obliged in conscience to join the lady Jane: but her short- lived power soon expired; when Mary and persecution mounted the throne, and Cranmer could expect nothing less than what en- sued ; attainder, imprisonment, deprivation, and death. He was condemned for treason, and, with pretended clemency, par- doned ; but, to gratify Gardiner's malice, and her own implacable resentment against him for her mo- ther's divorce, Mary gave orders to proceed against him for heresy. His friends, who foresaw the storm, had advised him to consult his safety by retiring beyond sea ; but he chose rather to continue steady to the cause, which he had hitherto so nobly supported; and prefer- red the probability of sealing his testimony with his blood, to an ignominious and dishonourable flight. The Tower was crowded with prisoners ; insomuch that Cran- mer, Ridley, Latimer, and Brad- ford, were all put into one cham- ber; which they were so far from thinking an inconvenience, that, on the contrary, they blessed God for the opportunity of convers- ing together : reading and com- paring the scriptures, confirming themselves in the true faith, and mutually exhorting each other to constancy in professing it, and patience in suffering for it. Happy society ! blessed martyrs ! rather to be envied, than the purpled ty- rant, with the sword deep-drenched in blood, though encircled with all the pomp and pageantry of power ! In April, 1554, the archbishop, with bishops Ridley and Latimer, was removed from the Tower to Windsor, and from thence to Ox- ford, to dispute with sorae.select persons of both universities. But how vain are disputations, where the fate of men is fixed, and every word is misconstrued ! And such was the case here: for on April the 20th, Cranmer was brought to St. Mary's, before the queen's commissioners, and refusing to subscribe to the popish articles, he was pronounced an heretic, ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 535 and sentence of condemnation was passed upon him. Upon which he told them, that he ap- pealed from their unjust sentence to that of the Almighty ; and that he trusted to be received into his presence in heaven for maintain- ing the truth, as set forth in his most holy gospel. After this his servants were dismissed from their attendance, and himself closely confined in Bocardo, the prison of the city of Oxford. But this sentence being void in law, as the pope's authority was wanting, a new commission was sent from Rome in 155.5 ; and in St. Mary's church, at the high altar, the court sat, and tried the already-condemned Cranmer. He was here well nigh too strong for his judges ; and if reason and truth could have pre- vailed, there would have been no doubt who should have been ac- quitted, and who condemned. The February following, a new commission was given to bishop Bonner and bishop Thirlby, for the degradation of the archbishop. When they came down to Oxford he was brought before them ; and after they had read their commis- sion from the pope, (for not ap- pearing before whom in person, as they had cited him, he was de- clared contumacious, though they themselves had kept him a close prisoner) Bonner, in a scurrilous oration, insulted over him in the rnost unchristian manner, for which he was often rebuked by bishop Thirlby, who wept, and declared it the most sorrowful scene he had ever beheld in his whole life. In the commission it was declared, that the cause had been impar- tially heard at Rome; the wit- nesses on both sides examined, and the archbishop's counsel al- - lowed to make the best defence for him they could. At the reading this, the arch- bishop could not help crying out, " Good God ! what lies are these ; that I, being continually in prison, and not suffered to have counsel or advocate at home, should pro- duce witnesses, and appoint my counsel at Rome! God must needs punish this shameless and open lying!" When Bonner had finished his invective, they proceeded to de- grade him; and that they might make him as ridiculous as they could, the episcopal habit which they put on him was made of can- vas and old rags. Bonner, in the mean time, by way of triumph and mockery, calling him " Mr. Canterbury," and the like. He bore all this treatment with his wonted fortitude and patience ; told them, " the degradation gave him no concern, for he had long despised those ornaments :" but when they came to take away his crosier, he held it fast, and deli- vered his appeal to Thirlby, say- ing, " I appeal to the next general council." When they had stripped him of all his habits, they put on him a poor yeoman- beadle's gown, thread-bare and ill-shaped, and a townsman's cap ; and in this man- ner delivered him to the secular power to be carried back to prison, where he was kept entirely des- titute of money, and totally se- cluded from his friends. Nay, such was the fury of his enemies, that a gentleman was taken into custody by Bonner, and narrowly escaped a trial, for giving the poor archbishop money to buy him a dinner. Cranmer had now been impri- soned almost three years, and death should have soon followed his sentence and degradation; but his cruel enemies reserved him for greater misery and insult. Every engine that could be thought of was employed to shake his constancy ; but he held fast to the profession of his faith. Nay, even when he saw the barbarous martyrdom of his dear companions Ridley and Latimer, he was so far from shrinking, that he not only prayed to God to strengthen them, but also, by their example, to 536 BOOK OF MARTYRS. animate him to a patient expecta- tion and endurance of tlie same fiery trial. The papists, after tr5ing va- rious severe ways to bring- Crau- mer over without eilect, at length determined to try what gentle methods would do. They accord- ingly removed him from prison to the lodgings of the dean ofChiist- church, where they urged every persuasive and aiJecting argument to make him deviate from his faith ; and, indeed, too much melted his gentle nature, by the false sunshine of pretended civility and respect. The unfortunate prelate, how- ever, Avithstood every temptation, at which his enemies were so ir- ritated, that they removed him from the dean's lodgings to the most loathsome part of the prison in which he had been confined, and then treated him with unpa- ralleled severity. This was more than the infirmities of so old a man could support : the frailty of human nature prevailed ; and he was induced to sign the following recantation, drawn from him by the malice and artifices of his enemies. "I Thomas CRANMER,late arch- bishop of Canterbury, do renounce, abhor, and detest, all manner of heresies and errors of Luther and Zuinglius, and all other teachings which are contrary to sound and true doctrine. And I believe most constantly in my heart, and with my mouth I confess one holy and Catholic church visible, without which there is no salvation ; and thereof I acknowledge the bishop of Rome to be supreme head in earth, whom I acknowledge to be the highest bishop and pope, and Christ's vicar, unto whom all Christian people ought to be sub- ject. " And as concerning the sacra- ments, I believe and worship in the sacrament of the altar the very body and blood of Christ, being contained most truly under the forms of bread and wine ; the bread through the mighty power of God being tornecl into the body of our Saviour Jesus Christ, and tlie wine into his blood. " And in the other six sacra- ments, also (like as in this) I be- lieve and hold as the universal church holdeth, and the church of Rome judgeth and determineth. " Furthermore, I believe that there is a place of purgatory, where souls departed be punished for a time, for whom the church doth godly and wholesomely pray, like as it doth honour saints and make prayers to them. " Finally, in all things I profess, that I do not otherwise believe, than the Catholic church and church of Rome holdeth and teacheth. I am sorry that ever I held or thought otherwise. And I beseech Almighty God, that of his mercy he will vouchsafe to for- give me, whatsoever I have offend- ed against God or his church, and also I desire and beseech all Chris- tian people to pray for me. " And all such as have been de- ceived either by mine example or doctrine, I require them, by the blood of Jesus Christ, that they will return to the unity of the church, that we may be all of one mind, without schism or division. " And to conclude, as I submit myself to the Catholic church of Christ, and to the supreme head thereof, so I submit myself unto the most excellent majesties of Philip and Mary, king and queen of this realm of England, &c. and to all other their laws and ordi- nances, being ready always as a faithful subject ever to obey them. And God is my witness, that I have not done this for favour or fear of any person, but willingly and of mine own conscience, as to the instruction of others." This recantation of the arch- bishop was immediately printed, and distributed throughout the country, and to establish its authen- ticity, first was added the name of Thomas Cranmer, with a solemn subscription, then followed the ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 537 witnesses of his recantation, Henry Sydal, and friar John de Villa Garcina. All this time Cran- mer had no certain assurance of his life, although it was faithfully promised to him by the doctors: but after they had gained their purpose, the rest they committed to chance, as usual with men of their religion. The queen, having now found a time to revenge her old grudge against him, received his recantation very gladly ; but would not alter her intention of putting him to death. The quaint simplicity with which the following account^ of the concluding scene of this good man's life is given, renders it more valuable and interesting than any narrative of the same transactions in " modern phrase ;" we there- fore give it verbatim. Now was Dr. Cranmer in a miserable case, having neither in- wardly any quietness in his own conscience, nor yet outwardly any help in his adversaries. Besides this, on the one side was praise, on the other side scorn, on both sides danger, so that he could neither die honestly, nor yet ho- nestly live. And whereas he sought profit, he fell into double disprofit, that neither with good men he could avoid secret shame, nor yet with evil men the note of dissimulation. In the mean time, while these things were doing in the prison amongst the doctors, the queen taking secret counsel how to dis- patch Cranmer out of the way (who as yet knew not of her se- cret hate, and was not expecting death) appointed Dr. Cole, and secretly gave him in command- ment, that against the 21st of March he should prepare a funeral sermon for Cranmer's burning, and so instructing him orderly and diligently of her will and plea- sure in that behalf, sent him away. Soon after, the lord Williams, of Tame, and the lord Shandois, sir Thomas Bridges, and sir John Brown, were sent for, with other worshipful men and justices, com- manded in the queen's name to be at Oxford on the same day, with their servants and retinue, lest Cranmer's death should raise there any tumult. Dr. Cole having this lesson given him before, and charged by her commandment, returned to Oxford, ready to play his part ; who, as the day of execution drew near, even tiie day before, came into the prison to Dr. Cranmer, to try whether he abode in the Catholic faith wherein before he had left him. To whom, when Cranmer had answered, that by God's grace he would be daily more confirmed in the Catholic faith ; Cole de- parting for that time, the next day following repaired to the archbi- shop again, giving no signification as yet of his death that was pre- pared. And therefore in the morn- ing, which was the 21st day of March, appointed for Cranmer's execution, the said Cole coming to him, asked him if he had any money, to whom when he had an- swered that he had none, he deli- vered fifteen crowns to give to the poor, to whom he would : and so exhorting him as much as he could to constancy in faith, departed thence about his business, as to his sermon appertained. By this partly, and other like arguments, the archbishop began more and more to surmise what they were about. Then becaase the day was not far spent, and the lords and knights that were looked for were not yet come, there came to him the Spanish friar, witness of his recantation, bringing a pa- per with articles, which Cranmer should openly profess in his recan- tation before the people, earnestly desiring him that he would write the said instrument with the arti- cles with his own hand, and sign it with his name : which when he had done, the said friar desired that he would write another copy thereof, which should remain with him, and that he did also. But yet the archbishop, being not ignorant whereunto their secret devices tended, and thinking that 538 BOOK OF MARTYRS. the time was at hand in which he could no longfer dissemble the profession of his faith with Christ's people, he put his prayer and his exhortation written in another pa- per secretly into his bosom, which he intended to recite to the peo- ple before he should make the last profession of his faith, fearing lest if they heard the confession of his faith first, they would not after- wards have suffered him to exhort the people. Soon after, about nine o'clock, the lord Williams, sir Thomas Bridges, sir John Brown, and the other justices, with certain other noblemen, that were sent of the queen's council, came to Oxford with a great train of waiting men. Also of the other multitude on every side (as is wont in such a matter) was made a great con- course, and greater expectation: for first of all, they that were of the pope's side were in great hope that day to hear something of Cranmer that should establish the vanity of their opinion: the other part, who were endued with a better mind, could not yet doubt that he, who by continued study and labour for so many years, had set forth the doctrine of the gospel, either would or could now in the last act of his life forsake his part. Briefly, as every man's will in- clined, either to this part or to that, so according to the diversity of their desires, every man wished and hoped for. And yet because in an uncertain thing the certainty could be known of none what would be the end ; all their minds were hanging between hope and doubt. So that the greater the ex- pectation was in so doubtful a mat- ter, the more >MiS the multitude that was gathered thither to hear and behold. During this great expectation. Dr. Cranmer at length came from the prison of Bocardo unto St. Mary's church, (because it was a foul and rainy day), the chief church in the university, in this order. The mayor went before, next him the aldermen in their place and degree ; after them was Cranmer brought between two friars, which mumbling to and fro certain psalms in the streets, an- swered one another until they came to the church door, and there they began the song of Simeon, " Nunc dimittis ;" and entering into the church, the psalm-singing friars brought him to his standing, and there left him. There was a stage set over-against the pulpit, of a mean height from the ground, where Cranmer had his standing, waiting until Dr. Cole made ready for his sermon. The lamentable case and sight of that man was a sorrowful spec- tacle to all Christian eyes that be- held him. He that lately was archbishop, metropolitan, and pri- mate of all England, and the king's privy counsellor, being now in a bare and ragged gown, and ill- favouredly clothed, with an old square cap, exposed to the con- tempt of all men, did admonish men not only of his own calamity, but also of their state and fortune. For who would not pity his case, and might not fear his own chance, to see such a prelate, so grave a counsellor, and of so long con- tinued honour, after so many dig- nities, in his old years to be de- prived of his estate, adjudged to die, and in so painful a death to end his life, and now presently from such fresh ornaments, to descend to such vile and ragged apparel ? In this habit, when he had stood a good space upon the stage, turn- ing to a pillar near adjoining there- unto, he lifted up his hands to hea- ven, and prayed unto God once or twice, till at length Dr. Cole com- ing into the pulpit, and beginning his sermon, entered first into mention of Tobias and Zachary ; whom after he had praised in the beginning of his sermon for their perseverance in the true worship- ping of God, he then divided his whole sermon into three parts (ac- cording to the solemn custom of the schools), intending to speak first of the mercy of God: second- ly, of bis justice to be shewed : ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 539 ft-nd last of all, how the prince's secrets arc not to be opened. And proceedinj!^ a little from the begin- ning, he took occasion by and by to turn his tale to Cranmer, and with many hot words reproved him, that he being one endued with the favour and feeling of wholesome and Catholic doctrine, fell into a contrary opinion of per- nicious error; which he had not only defended by his writings, and all his power, but also allured other men to do the like, with great liberality of gifts, as it were appointing rewards for error ; and after he had allured them, by all means did cherish them. It were too long to repeat all things, that in long order were pro- nounced. The sum of his tripartite declamation was, that he said God's mercy was so tempered with his justice, that he did not altoge- ther require punishment according to the merits of offenders, nor yet sometimes suffered the same to go altogether unpunished, yea, though they had repented. As in David, who when he was bidden to choose of three kinds of punishment which he would, and he had chosen pes- tilence for three days, the Lord forgave him half the time, but did not release all : and that the same thing came to pass in him also, to whom although pardon and recon- ciliation was due accordingto the ca- nons, seeing he repented of his er- rors, yet there were causes why the queen and the council at this time judged him to death; of which, lest he should marvel too much, he should hear some. First, That being a traitor, he had dissolved the lawful matri- mony between the king aj)d queen, her father and mother: besides the driving out of the pope's authority, while he was metropolitan. Secondly, That he had been an heretic, from whom, as from an author and only fountain, all here- tical doctrine and schismatical opinion, that so many years have prevailed in England, did first rise and spring; of which he had not been a secret favourer only, but also a most earnest defender, even to the end of his life, sowing them abroad by writings and argu- ments, privately and openly, not without great ruin and decay to the Catholic church. And farther, it seemed meet, ac- cording to the law of equality, that as the death of the late duke of Northumberland made even with Thomas More, chancellor, that died for the church ; so there should be one that should make even with Fisher, of Rochester: and because that Ridley, Hooper, and Farrar, were not able to make even with that man, it seemed that Cranmer should be joined to them to fill up their part of the equa- lity*. Besides these, there were other just and rceighty causes, which ap- peared to the queen and council, which was not meet at that time to be opened to the cotnmon peo- ple. After this, turning his tale to the hearers, he bid all men beware by this man's example, that among men nothing is so high that can promise itself safety on the earth, and that God's vengeance is equally stretched against all men, and spareth none f : therefore they should beware, and learn to fear their prince. And seeing the queen's majesty would not spare so notable a man as this, much less in the like cause would she spare other men, that no man should think to make thereby any defence of his error, either in riches or any * This arithmetical reason for burning a man, is certainly the very acme of Romish logic. If all accounts were to be thus settled, what would be the balance due from Popery ? t The truth of this axiom was strik- ingly exhibited in the course of a very few years after this, although not in the way intended by the preacher: he and his party, with that blindness which is the usual concomitant of tyranny and perse- cution, concluded that the power was given to them for ever; but the blood of the saints " had cried unto God from the earth;" He had heard its voice, and had already prepared the downfall of the merciless persecutors. 640 BOOK OF MARTYRS. kind of authority. They had now an example to teach them all, by whose calamity every man might consider his own fortune; who, from the top of dignity, none being more honourable than he in the whole realm, and next the king, was fallen into such great misery, as they might see, being a person of such high degree, sometime one of the chief prelates of the church, and an archbishop, the chief of the council, the second person in the realm a long time, a man thought in great assurance, having a king on his side; notwithstanding all his authority and defence, to be debased from high estate to a low degree, of a counsellor to become a caitiff, and to be set in so wretch- ed a state, that the poorest wretch would not change condition with him; briefly, so heaped with mi- sery on all sides, that neither was left in him any hope of better for- tune, nor place for worse. The latter part of his sermon he converted to the archbishop, wliom he comforted and encouraged to take his death well, by many places of Scripture, as with these, and such like; bidding him not to mistrust, but he should inconti- nently receive what the thief did, to whom Christ said, " This day thou shalt be with me in paradise :" and out of St. Paul he armed him against the terror of fire by this, " The Lord is faithful, which will not suffer you to be tempted above your strength :" by the example of the three children, to whom God made the flame to seem like a pleasant dew; adding also the re- joicing of St. Andrew on his cross, the patience of St. Laurence in the fire, assuring him, that God, if he called on him, either would abate the fury of the flame, or give him strength to abide it. He glorified God much in his (Cranmer's) conversion, because it appeared to be only His (the Al- mighty's) work, declaring what travail and conference had been with him to convert him, and all prevailed not, till that it pleased God of his mercy to reclaim him, and call him home. In discours- ing of which place, he much com- mended Cranmer, and qualified his former doings, thus tempering his judgment and talk of him, that all the time (said he) he flowed in riches and honour, he was un- worthy of his life ; and now that he might not live, he was unworthy of death. But lest he should carry with him no comfort, he would di- ligently labour (he said), and also did promise, in the name of all the priests that were present, that im- mediately after his death there should be dirges, masses, and fu- nerals, executed for him in all the churches of Oxford, for the succour of his soul. All this time with what great grief of mind Cranmer stood hear- ing this sermon, the outward shews of his body and countenance did better express, than any man can declare; one while liftiug up bis hands and eyes ^unto heaven, and then again for shame letting them down to the earth. A man might have seen the very image and sliape of perfect sorrow lively in him expressed. More than twenty several times the tears gushed out abundantly, dropping down mar- vellously from his fatherly face. They that were present do testify, that they never saw in any child more tears than came from him at that time, during the whole ser- mon; but especially when he re- cited his prayer before the people. It is marvellous what commisera- tion and pity moved all men's hearts, that beheld so heavy a countenance, and such abundance of tears in an old man of so reve- rend dignity. After Cole had ended his ser- mon, he called back the people to prayers that were ready to depart. " Brethren," said he, " lest any man should doubt of this man's earnest conversion and repent- ance, you shall hear him speak be- fore you; and therefore I pray you, Mr. Cranmer, to perform that now, which you promised not long ago ; namely, that you would openly express the true and un- ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 641 doubted profession of your faith, that you may take away all suspi- cion from men, and that all men may understand that you are a Ca- tholic indeed." " I will do it," said the archbishop, " and that with a good will;" who, rising up, and putting off his cap, began to speak thus unto the people: " Good Christian people, my dearly beloved brethren and sis- ters in Christ, I beseech you most heartily to pray for me to Al- mighty God, that he will forgive me all my sins and offences, which be many without number, and great above measure. But yet one thing grieveth my conscience more than all the rest, whereof, God willing, I intend to speak more hereafter. But how great and how many soever my sins be, I beseech you to pray to God of his mercy to pardon and forgive them all." And here kneeling down, he said the following prayer : " O Father of heaven, O Son of God, Redeemer of the world, O Holy Ghost, three persons and one God, have mercy upon me, most wretched caitiff and raiser- able sinner. I have offended both against heaven and earth, more than my tongue can express. Whither then may I go, or whither shall I flee? To heaven I may be ashamed to lift up mine eyes, and in earth I find no place of refuge or succour. To thee, therefore, O Lord, do 1 run ; to thee do I hum- ble myself, saying, O Lord *my God, my sins be great, but yet have mercy upon me, for thy great mercy. The great mystery that God became man, was not wrought for little or few offences. Thou didst not give thy Son (O heavenly Father) unto death for small sins only, but for all the greatest sins of the world, so that the sinner return to thee with his whole heart, as I do at this present. Wherefore have mercy on me, O God, whose property is always to have mercy; have mercy upon me, O Lord, for thy great mercy. I crave nothing for mine own me- rits, but for thy name's sake, that it may be hallowed thereby, and for thy Son Jesus Christ's sake. And now, therefore, O Father of heaven, hallowed be thy name," &c., And then he, rising, said : " Every man (good people) de- sireth at the time of his death to give some good exhortation, that others may remember the same before their death, and be the bet- ter thereby: so I beseech God grant me grace, that I may speak something at this my departing, whereby God may be glorified, and you edified. " First, It is a heavy cause to see that so many folk so much doat upon the love of this false world, and be so careful for it, that of the love of God, or the world to come, they seem to care very little or nothing. Therefore, this shall be ray first exhortation: That you set not your minds overmuch upon this deceitful world, but upon God, and upon the world to come, and to learn to know what this lesson meaneth which St. John teacheth, ' That the love of this world is ha- tred against God.' *' The second exhortation is. That next under God you obey your king and queen willingly and gladly, without murmuring or grudging; not for fear of them only, but much more for the fear of God; knowing that they be God's ministers, appointed by God to rule and govern you: and there- fore whosoever resisteth them, re- sisteth the ordinance of God. " The third exhortation is. That you love altogether like brethren and sisters. For, alas! pity it is to see what contention and hatred one Christian man beareth to ano- ther, not taking eacii other as bro- ther and sister, but rather as strangers and mortal enemies. But I pray you learn and bear well away this one lesson. To do good unto all men, as much as in you lieth, and to hurt no man, no more than you would hurt your own na- tural loving brother or sister. For 642 BOOK OF MARTYRS. this you may be sure of, that who- soever hateth any person, and go- eth about maliciously to hinder or hurt him, surely and without all doubt, God is not with that man, although he think himself ever so much in God's favour. " The fourth exhortation shall be to them that have great substance and riches of this world ; That they will well consider and weigh three sayings of the Scripture: one is of our Saviour himself, who saith, Luke xviii. ' It is hard for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven.' A sore saying, and yet spoken by him who knoweth the truth. "The second is of St. John, 1 John iii., whose saying is this, ' He that hath the substance of this world, and seeth his brother in necessity, and shutteth up his mercy from him, how can he say that he loveth God?' " The third is of St. James, who speaketh to the covetous rich man, after this manner, ' Weep you and howl for the misery that shall come upon you: your riches do rot, your clothes be moth-eaten, your gold and silver doth canker and rust, and their rust shall bear witness against you, and consume you like fire: you gather a hoard or treasure of God's indignation against the last day.' Let them that be rich ponder well these three sentences: for if they ever had oc- casion to shew their charity, they have it now at this present, the poor people being so many, and victuals so dear. " And now forasmuch as I am come to the last end of my life, whereupon hangeth all my life past, and all my life to come, either to live with ray master Christ for ever in joy, or else to be in pain for ever with wicked de- vils in hell, and I see before mine eyes presently either heaven ready to receive me, or else hell ready to swallow me up : I shall therefore declare unto you my very faith how I believe without any colour of dissimulation : for now is no time to dissemble, whatsoever I have said or written in times past. " First, I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of hea- ven and earth, &c. And I believe every article of the Catholic faiih, every word and sentence taught by our Saviour Jesus Christ, his apostles and prophets, in the New and Old Testament. " And now I come to the great thing which so much troubleth my conscience, more thau any thing that ever I did or said in my whole life, and that is the setting abroad of a writing contrary to the truth ; which now here I renounce and refuse, as things written with my hand contrary to the truth which I thought in my heart, and written for fear of death, and to save my life, if it might be ; and that is, all such bills and papers which I have written or signed with my hand since my degradation, where- in I have written many things un- true. And forasmuch as my hand hath oflended, writing contrary to my heart, therefore my hand shall first be punished ; for when I come to the fire, it shall be first burned. " And as for the pope, T refuse him, as Christ's enemy and Anti- christ, with all his false doctrine. "And as for the sacrament, I believe as I have taught in my book against the bishop of Win- chester, which ray book teacheth so true a doctrine of the sacra- ment, that it shall stand at the last dcly before the judgment of God where the papistical doctrine con- trary thereto shall be ashamed to shew her face." Here the standers-by were all astonished, marvelled, and amaz- ed, and looked upon one another, whose expectation he had so nota- bly deceived. Some began to ad- monish him of his recantation, and to accuse hmi of falsehood. Briefly, it was strange to iice the doctors beguiled of so great an hope. I think there was never cruelty more notably or better in ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 543 time deluded and deceived. For it is not to be doubted, but they looked for a glorious victor}', and a perpetual triumph by this mau's retractation. As soon as they heard these thing's, they began to lot down their ears, to rage, fret, and fume ; and so much the more, because they could not revenge their grief : for they could now no longer threaten or hurt - him. For the most miserable man in the world can die but once ; and whereas of necessity he must needs die that day, though the papists had been ever so well pleased ; being ever so much ofiended with him, yet could he not be twice killed by them. And so when they could do nothing else unto him, yet lest they should say nothing, they ceased not to object unto him his falsehood and dissimulation. Unto which accusation he an- swered, " Ah, my masters" (q>uoth he), "do you not take it so? Al- ways since I lived hitherto, I have been a hater of falsehood, and a lover of simplicity, and never be- fore this time have I dissembled ;" and in saying this, all the tears that remained in his body ap- peared in his eyes. And when he began to speak more of the sa- crament and of the papacy, some of them began to cry out, yelp, and bawl, and especially Cole cried out upon him, " Stop the heretic's mouth, and take him away." And then Cranmer being pulled down from the stage, was led to the fire, accompanied with those friars, vexing, troubling, and threatening him most cruelly. " What madness," say they, " hath brought thee again into this error, by which thou wilt draw innumer- able souls with thee into hell 1" Tp whom he answered nothing, but directed all his talk to the people, saving that to one troubling him in the way, he spake, and exhorted him to get him home to his study, and apply to his book diligently ; saying, if he did diligently call upon God, by reading more he should get knowledge. But the other Spanish barker, raging and foaming, was almost out of his wits, always having this in his mouth, Nunfecisti! " Didst thou it not?" But when he came to the place where the holy bishops and mar- tyrs of God, bishop Latimer and bishop Ridley, were burnt before him for the confession of the truth, kneeling down he prayed to God, and not long tarrying in his pray- ers, putting oft" his garment to his shirt, he prepared himself for death. His shirt was made long, down to his ftet. His feet were bare ; likewise his head, when both his caps were off, was so bare that one hair could not be seen upon it. His beard was so long and thick, that it covered his face with mar- vellous gravity ; and his reverend countenance moved the hearts both of his friends and enemies. Then the Spanish friars, John and Richard, of whom mention was made before, began to exhort . him, and play their parts with him afresh, but with vain and lost la- bour. Cranmer with steadfast purpose abiding in the profession of his doctrine, gave his hand to certain old men, and others that stood by, bidding them farewell. And when he had thought to have done so likewise to Mr. Ely, the said Ely drew back his hand and refused, saying, it was not lawful to salute heretics, and especially such a one as falsely returned unto the opinions that he had forsworn. And if he had known before that he would have done so, he would never have used his company so familiarly, and chid those Serjeants and citi- zens, who had not refused to give him their hands. This Mr. Ely was a student in divinity, and lately made a priest, being then one of the fellows in Brazen-nose college. Then was an iron chain tied about Cranmer, and they commanded the fire to be set unto him. And when the wood was kindled, and the fire began to burn near him, he stretched forth his right I 544 BOOK OF MARTYRS. hand, which had sig^ned Lis recan- tation, into the flames, and there held it so steadfast that all the people might see it burnt to a coal before his body was touched. In short, he was so patient and con- stant in the midst of these ex- treme tortures, that he seemed to move no more than the stake to which he was bound ; his eyes were lifted up to heaven, and often he repeated, "this unworthy right hand," so long as his voice would suffer him ; and as often using the words of the blessed martyr St. Stephen, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit," till the fury of the flames putting him to silence, he gave up the ghost. This fortitude of mind, which perchance is rare and not found among the Spaniards, when friar John saw, thinking it came not of fortitude, but of desperation, al- though such manner of examples which are of like constancy, have been common here in England, he ran to the lord Williams of Tame, crying that the archbishop was vexed in mind, and died in great desperation. But he, who was not ignorant of the archbishop's con- stancy, being unknown to the Spaniards, smiled only, and as it were by silence rebuked the friar's folly. And this was the end of this learned archbishop, whom, lest by evil subscribing he should have perished, by well recanting, God preserved ; and lest he should have lived longer with shame and reproof, it pleased God rather to take him away, to the glory of his name and profit of his church. So good was the Lord both to his church, in fortifying the same with the testimony and blood of such a martyr ; and so good also to the man with this cross of tri- bulation, to purge his offences in this world, not only of his recanta- tion, but also of his standing against John Lambert and Mr. Allen, or if they were any other, with whose burning or blood his hand had been any thing before polluted. But especially he had to rejoice, that dying in 2 such a cause, he was numbered amongst the martyrs of Christ, and much more worthy of the name of St. Thomas of Canterbury, than he whom the pope falsely before did canonize. Thus died Thomas Cranmer, in the 67th year of his age. He was a man of great candour, and a firm friend, which appeared sig- nally in the misfortunes of Anne Boleyn, Cromwell, and the duke of Somerset. In his writings he ra- ther excelled in great industry and good judgment, than in a quick- ness of apprehension, or a close- ness of style. He employed his revenues on pious and charitable uses ; and in his table he was truly hospitable, for he entertained great numbers of his poor neigh- bours often at it. The gentleness and humility of his deportment were very remarkable. His last fall was the greatest blemish of his life, yet that was expiated by a sincere repentance ; and while we drop a tear over this melancholy instance of human frailty, we must acknowledge with praise the inter- position of Divine Providence in his return to the truth. And it seemed necessary that the refor- mation of the church, being the restoring of the primitive and apostolical doctrine, should have been cliiefly carried on by a man thus eminent for primitive and apostolical virtues. That the Christian reader may judge how little this noble martyr regarded human greatness, or his own interest, when truth was con- cerned, we present him with the follovi^ing celebrated letter written by the archbishop to Queen Mary, which, though rather long, we doubt not will be perused with interest, when the writer, and the subject, are considered. May it please your majesty to pardon my presumption that I dare be so bold to write to your highness. But very necessity constraineth me, that your majesty may know my mind, rather by ARCHBrSHOP CRANMER. 645 tnine own writing than by other men's reports. So it is, that upon Wednesday, being- the 12tli day of this month, I was cited to appear at Rome the eightieth day alter, there to make answer to such mat- ters as should be objected against me upon the behalf of the king^ and your most excellent majesty, which matters the Thursday fol- lowing were objected against me by Dr. Martin and Dr. Slory, your majesty's proctors before the bishop of Gloucester, sitting in judgment by commission from Rome. A Claistian Jiaiied alive by the HtatJten rei'seeuton^ But (alas!) it cannot but grieve the heart of a natural subject to be accused of the king and queen of his own realm ; and especially before an outward judge, or by authority coming from any per- son out of this realm : where the king and queen, as if they were subjects within their own realm, shall complain and require justice at a stranger's hands against their own subject, being already con- demned to death by their own laws. As though the king and queen could not do or have justice within their own realms against their own subjects ; but they must seek it at strangers' hands in a FOX'S MARTYRS. strange land, the like whereof (I ihink) was never seen. I would have wished to have had some meaner adversaries: and, I think, that death shall not grieve me much more, than to have my most dread and most gracious sovereign lord and lady, to whom, under God, I do own all obedience, to be mine accusers in judgment within their own realm, before any stran- ger and outward power. But for- asmuch as in the time of the prince of most famous memory. King Henry the Eighth, your grace's father, I was sworn never to con- sent, that the bishop of Rome should have or exercise anv au- 35 546 BOOK OF MARTYRS. thority or jurisdiction in this realm of England, therefore lest I should allow his authority contrary to mine own oath, I refused to make answer to the bishop of Gloucester sitting here in judgment by the pope's authority, lest I should run into perjury. Another cause why I refused the pope's authority, is this ; that his authority, as he clalmeth it, is repugnant to the crown impe- rial of this realm, and to the laws of the same : which every true subject is bound to defend. First, for that the pope saith, that all manner of povver, as well tempo- ral as spiritual, is given first to him of God ; and that the tempo- ral power he giveth unto emperors and kings, to use it under him, but so as to be always at his command- ment and beck. But contrary to this claim, the imperial crov/n and jurisdiction temporal of this realm is taken immediately from God, to be used under him only, and is subject to none but God alone. Moreover, to the imperial laws and customs of this realm, the king in his coronation, and all justices when they receive their oiBces, be sworn, and all the whole realm is bound to defend and maintain. But contrary hereunto, the pope by his authority maketh void, and commandeth to blot out of our books, all laws and customs being repugnant to his laws, and declareth accursed all rulers and governors, all the makers, writers, and executors of all such laws or customs, as it appeareth by many of the pope's laws, whereof one or two I shall rehearse. In the de- crees, Diet. 10. it IS written thus, " The constitution or statutes en- acted against the canons and de- crees of the bishops of Rome, or their good customs, are of none effect." Also, "We excommuni- cate all heretics of both sexes, what name soever they be called by, and their favourers, receptors, and defenders ; and also them that shall hereafter cause to be observ- ed the statutes and customs made against the liberty of the church, except they cause the same to be put out of their records and chap- ters within two months after the publication thereof. Also we ex- communicate the statute-makers and writers of those statutes, and all the potentates, powers, consuls, governors, and counsellors of places, where such statutes or customs shall be made or kept; and also that shall presume to give judgment according to them, or shall notify in public form the mat- ter so adjudged." Nryw by these laws, if the bishop of Rome's authority which he claimeth by God, be lawful, all your grace's laws and customs of your realm, being contrary to the pope's laws, be naught, and as well your majesty, as your judges, justices, and all other executors of the same, stand accursed amongst heretics, which God forbid. And yet this curse can never be avoid- ed (if the pope hath such power as he claimeth) until such times as the laws and customs of this realm (being contrary to his laws) be taken away and blotted out of the law-books. And although there be many laws of this realm con- trary to the laws of Rome, yet I name but a few; as to convict a clerk before any temporal judge of this realm for debt, felony, murder, or for any other crime ; which clerks by the pope's laws are so exempt from the king's laws, that they can be no where sued, but before their ordinary. Also the pope by his laws may give ail bishoprics and benefices spiritual ; which by the laws of this realm can be given but only by the king and other patrons of the same, except they fall into lapse. By the pope's laws, jus patrona- tus shall be sued only before the ecclesiastical judge ; but by the laws of the realm it shall be sued before the temporal judge. And to be short, the laws of this realm do agree with the pope's like fire and water. And yet the kings of this realm have provided ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 547 for Ibeir laws by tJie prcnmunire ; so that if any man have let the ex- ecution of the laws of this rcahn by any authority from tlie see of Rome, he falleth into the prcemu- nire. But to meet with this, the popes have provided for their laws by cursing. For wliosoever hinder- eth the pope's laws to have full course within this realm, by the pope's power standeth accursed : so that the pope's power trcadeth all the laws and customs of this realm under his feet, cursing all that execute them, until such time as they do give place unto his Jaws. But it may be said, that not- withstanding all the pope's de- crees, yet we do still execute the laws and customs of this realm. Nay, not all quietly without inter- ruption of the pope. And where we do execute them, yet we do it unjustly, if the pope's power be of force, and for the same we stand excommunicate, and shall do until we leave the execution of our own laws and customs. Thus we be well reconciled to Rome, allowing such authority, whereby the realm standeth accursed be- fore God, if the pope have any such authority. Those things (as I suppose) were not fully opened in the parlia- ment-house when the pope's au- thority was received again within this realm ; for if they had, I do not believe that either the king or queen's majesty, or the nobles of this realm, or the commons of the same, would ever have consented to receive again such a foreign authority, so injurious, hurtful, and prejudicial, as well to the crown as to the laws and customs and state of this realm, as where- by they must needs acknowledge themselves to be accursed. But none could open this matter well but the clergy, and such of them as had read the pope's laws, wherby the pope had made him- self as it were a god. These seek to maintain the pope whom they desired to have their chief head, to the intent they might have, as it were, a kingdom and laws with- in themselves, distinct from tiic laws of the crown, and wherewith the crown may not meddle ; and so being exempted from the laws of the realm, might live in this realm like lords and kings, with- out damage or fear of any man, so that they please their high and supreme head at Rome. For this consideration (I think, some that knew the truth, held their peace in the parliament, whereas if they had done their duties to the crown and whole realm, they should have opened their mouths, declared t!ie truth, and shewed the perils an4 dangers that might ensue to the Crown and realm. And if I should agree to allow Such authority within this realm, whereby I must needs confess, that your most gracious highness, and also your realm, should ever continue accursed, until ye shall cease from the execution of your own laws and customs of your realm ; I could not think myself true either to your highness, or to this my natural country, know- ing that I do know. Ignorance, I know, may excuse other men ; but he that knoweth how prejudi- cial and injurious the power and authority which he challengeth every where, is to the crown-law« and customs of this realm, and yet will allow the same, 1 cannot see in any wise how he can keep his due allegiance, fidelity, and truth to the crown and state of this realm. Another cause I alleged, why I could not allow the authority of the pope, which is this : That by his authority he subverted not only the laws of this realm, but also the laws of God: so that whosoever be under his authority, he suffereth them not to be under Christ's re • ligion purely, as Christ did com- mand. And for one example I brouglit forth, that whereas by God's laws all Christian people be bounden diligently to learn his word, that they may know how to believe and 548 BOOK OF MARTYRS. liye accordingly, for that purpose he ordained holydays, when they out?ht, leaving apart all other bu- siness, to give themselves wholly to know and serve God. Therefore God's will and commandment is, that when the people be gathered together, ministers should use such language as the people may un- derstand and take profit thereby, or else hold their peace. For as an harp or lute, if it give no cer- tain sound that men may know what is played, who can dance after it? for all the sound is vain. So it is in vain, and profiteth no- thing, saith Almighty God by the mouth of St. Paul, if the priest speak to the people in a language which they know not ; " For else he may profit himself, but profiteth not the people," saith St. Paul. But herein I was answered thus ; that St, Paul spake only of preach- ing, that the preacher should preach in°a tongue which the people did know, or else his preaching avail- eth nothing ; but if the preaching availeth nothing, being spoke in a language which the people under- stand not, how should any other service avail them, being spoken in the same language? And yet that St. Paul meant not only of preaching, it appeareth plainly by his own words. For he speaketh by name expressly of praying, singing, and thanking of God, and of all other things which the priests say in the churches, whereunto the people say Amen ; which they use not in preaching, but in other divine service ; that whether the priests rehearse the wonderful works of God, or the great bene- fits of God unte mankind above all other creatures, or give thanks unto God, or make open profes- sion of their faith, or humble con- fession of their sins, with earnest request of mercy and forgiveness, or make suit and request unto God for any thing ; then all the people understanding what the priests say, might give their minds and voices with them, and say. Amen, tbat is to say, allow what the priests say ; that the re- hearsal of God's universal works and benefits, the giving of thanks, the profession of faith, the con- fession of sins, and the requests and petitions of the priests and of the people, might ascend up into the ears of God altogether, and be as a sweet savour, odour, and in- cense in his nose: and thus was it used many hundred years after Christ's ascension. But the aforesaid things cannot be done when the priests speak to the people in a language not known, and so they (or their clerk in their name) say Amen, but they cannot tell whereunto. Whereas St. Paul saith, " How can the people say Amen to thy Avell say- ing, when they understand not what thou say est?" And thus was St. Paul understood by all inter- preters, both the Greeks and Latins, old and new, school au- thors and others that I have read, until above thirty years past. At which time one Fckius, with others of his sort, began to devise a new exposition, understanding St. Paul of preaching only. But when a good number of the best learned men reputed within this realm, some favouring the old, some the new learning, as they term it, (where indeed that which they call the old is the new, and that which they call the new is indeed the old) but when a great number of such learned men of both sorts, were gathered together at Windsor for the refor- mation of the service of the church, it was agreed by both, without controversy (not one saying con- trary) that the service of the church ought to be in the mother tongue ; and that St. Paul in the fourteenth chapter to the Corinthians was so to be understood. And so St. Paul was understood in the civil law, more than a thousand years past, where Justinian, a most godly emperor, in a synod writeth in this manner: "We command that all bishops and priests cele- brate the holy oblation and prayer used in holy baptism, not after a still and close manner, but with ARCHBISHOP GRANMER. 649 a clear loud voice, that they may be plainly heard by the faithful people, so as the hearers' minds may be lifted up tliereby with the greater devotion, in utterinoj the praises of the Lord God. For so St. Paul teacheth also in the epistle to the Corinthians, "If the Spirit do only bless (or say well) how shall he that occupieth the place of a private person say Amen, to thy thanksgiving? for he perceiveth not what thou sayest : thou dost give thanks well, but the other is not edified." And not only the civil law, and all other writers a thousand and five hundred years continually toge- ther, have expounded St. Paul not of preaching only, but of other service said in the church ; but also reason saith the same, that if men be commanded to hear any thing, it must be spoken in a lan- guage which the hearers under- stand, or else (as St. Paul saith) what availeth it to hear? So that the pope giveth a contrary com- mandment that the people coming to the church shall hear they know not what, and shall answer they know not whereto, taketh upon him to command, not only against rea- son, but also directly against God. And again I said, whereas our Saviour Christ ordained the sa- crament of his most precious body and blood to be received by all Christian people underthe forms of bread and wine, and said of the cup, " Drink ye all of this ;" the pope giveth a clean contrary com- mandment, that no layman shall drink of the cup of their salvation ; as though the cup of salvation by the blood of Christ pertaineth not to laymen. And whereas Theo- philus Alexandrinus (whose works St. Jerome did translate about eleven hundred years past) saith. That if Christ had been crucified for the devils, his cup should not be denied them ; yet the pope denieth the cup of Christ to Chris- tian people, for whom Christ was crucified. So that if I should obey the pope in these things, I mu5t needs disobey my Saviour Christ. But I was answered hereunto (as they commonly answer) that un- der the form of bread is both Christ's flesh and blood : so that whosoever receivelh the bread, re- ceiveth as well Christ's blood as his llesh. Let it be so ; yet in the form of bread only, Christ's blood is not drank, but eaten : nor is it received in the cup in the form of wine, as Christ commanded, but eaten with the flesh under the form of bread. And moreover, the bread is not the sacrament of his blood but of his flesh only ; nor is the cup the sacrament of his flesh, but of his blood only. And so the pope keepeth from all lay- persons the sacrament of their re- demption by Christ's blood, which Christ commandeth to be given unto them. And furthermore, Christ ordain, ed the sacrament in two kinds, the one separated from the other, to be a representation of his death, where his blood was separated from his flesh, which is not repre- sented as one kind alone ; so that the lay-people receive not the whole sacrament whereby Christ's death is represented, as he com- manded. Moreover, as the pope taketh upon him to give the temporal sword, by royal and imperial power, to kings and prin^^ies ; so doth he likewise take upon him to depose them from their imperial states, if they be disobedient to him, and commandeth the sub- jects to disobey their princes, as- soiling the subjects as w^ell of their obedience, as of their lawful oaths made under their true kings and princes, directly contrary to God's commandment, who commandeth all subjects to obey their kings, or their rulers under them. One John, patriarch of Constan- tinople, in the time of St. Gregory, claimed superiority above all other bishops. To whom St. Gregory writeth, that therein he did injury to his three brethren, which were 550 BOOK OF MARTYRS. eqnal with him; that is to say, the bishop of Rome, the bishop of Alexandria, and of Antioch ; which three were patriarchal sees, as well as Constantinople, and v^^ere breth- ren one to another. Bnt (saith St. Gregory) if any one shall exalt himself above all the rest, to be the universal bishop, the same passeth in pride. But now the bi- shop of Rome exalteth himself not only above all kings and emperors, and above all the whole world, but takes upon him to give and take away, to set up and pull down as he shall think good. And as the devil, having no such authority, yet took upon him to give unto Christ all the kingdoms of the world, if he would fall down and worship him; in like manner the pope taketh apon him to give em- pires and kingdoms, being none of his, to such as will fall down and worship him, and kiss his feet. And moreover, his lawyers and glossers so flatter him, that they feign he may command emperors and kings to hold his stirrup when he lighteth from his horse, and to be his footmen: and that if any emperor or king give him any thing, they give him nothing but what is his own, and that he may dispense against God's word, against both the Old and New Testament, against St. Paul's epistles, and against the gospel. And furthermore, whatsoever he doth, although he draw innumera- ble people by heaps with himself into hell, yet may not mortal man reprove him, because he being judge of all men, may be judged of no man. And thus he sitteth in the temple of God as if he were a god, and nameth himself God's vi- car, and yet he dispenseth against God. If this be not to play Anti- christ's part, I cannot tell what Antichrist is, which is no more to say, but Christ's enemy and adver- sary? who shall sit in the temple of God advancing himself above all other, yet by hypocrisy, and feigned religion, shall subvert the tia« religion of Christ, and under pretence and colour of Christ's re- ligion, shall work against Christ, and therefore hath the name of Antichrist. Now if any man lift himself higher than the pope hath done, who lifteth himself above all the world ; or can be a greater ad- versary to Christ, than to dispense against God's laws; and where Christ hath given any command- ment, to command directly the contrary, that man must needs be taken for Antichrist. But until the time that such a person may be found, men may very easily conjec- ture where to find Antichrist. Wherefore seeing the pope thus to overthrow both God's laws, and man's laws, taking upon him to make emperors and kings to be vassals and subjects unto him, especially the crown of this realm, with the laws and customs of the same; I see no reason how I may consent to admit his usurped power within this realm, contrary to mine oath, mine obedience to God's laws, mine allegiance and duty to your majesty, and my love and affection to this realm. This that I have spoken against the power and authority of the pope, I have not spoken (I take God to record and judge) for any malice I owe to the pope s person, whom I know not, but I shall pray to God to give him grace, that he may seek above all things to pro- mote God's honour and glory, and not to follow the trade of his pre- decessors in these latter days. Nor have I spoken it for fear of punishment, and to avoid the same, thinking it rather an occa- sion to aggravate than to diminish my ti-ouble; but I have spoken it for my most bounden duty to the crown, liberties, laws, and customs of this realm of England, but more especially to discharge my con- science in uttering the truth to God's glory, casting away all fear by the comfort which I have in Christ, who said, " Fear not them that kill the body, and cannot kill the soul, but fear him that can cast Loth body and soul into hell-lire." ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 531 He that for fear of losing this life will forsake the truth, shall lose the life everlasting: and he that for the trutli's sake will spend his life, will find everlasting life. And Christ proniiscth to stand fast with them before his Father, which will stand fast with him here; which comfort is so great, that whosoever hath his eyes fixed upon Christ, cannot greatly set his heart on this life, knowing that he may be sure to have Christ stand by him in the presence of his Father in heaven. And as touching the sacrament, I said ; Forasmuch as the whole matter standeth in the understand- ing of these words of Christ, " This is my body, this is my blood;" then surely Christ in these words made demonstration of the bread and wine, and spake figuratively, calling bread his body, and wine his blood, because he ordained them to be sacraments of his body and blood. And where the papists say in those two points contrary unto me, that Christ called not bread his body, but a substance tincertain, nor apoke figuratively : herein I said, I would be judged by the old church, and which doc- trine could be proved the elder, that I would stand unto. And for- asmuch as I have alleged in my book many old authors, both Greeks and Latins, which above a thousand years after Christ conti- nually taught as I do: If they could bring forth but one old au- thor, that saith in these two points as they say, I offered six or seven years ago, and do offer yet still, that I will give place unto them. But when I bring forth my au- thor that saith in most plain terms as I do, yet saith the other part, that the authors meant not so; as much as to say, that the authors spake one thing, and meant clean contrary. And upon the other part, when they cannot find any one author that saith in words as they say; yet say they, that the authors meant as they say. Now, whether I or they speak more to the purpose herein, I refer me to the judgment of all impartial hear- ers; yea, the old church of Rome> above a thousand years together neither believed nor used the sa- crament, as the church of Rome hath done of late years. For in the beginning, the cliurch of Rome taught a pure and a sound doctrine of the sacrament. But after that the church of Rome fell into new doctrine of transub- stanliation; with the doctrine they changed the use of the sacrament, contrary to that Christ commanded, and the old church of Rome used above a thousand years. And yet to deface the old, they say that the new is the old; wherein, for my part, 1 am content to stand to +he trial. But their doctrine is so foolish and uncomfortable, that I marvel how any man would allow it, if he knew what it was. But howsoever they bear the people in hand, that that which they write in their books hath neither truth nor comfort. For by their doctrine, of one body of Christ is made two bodies: one natural, having a distance of members, with form and propor- tion of man's perfect body, and this bofty is in heaven: but the body of Christ in the sacrament, by their own doctrine, must needs be a monstrous body, having nei- ther distance of members, nor form, fashion, or proportion of a man's natural body. And such a body is in the sacrament (teach they), and goeth into the mouth in the form of bread, and entereth no further than the form of bread go- eth, and tarrieth no longer than the form of bread is by natural heat in digesting. So that when the form of bread is digested, that body of Christ is gone. And for- asmuch as evil men are as long in digesting as good men, the body of Christ (by their doctrine) en- tereth as far, and tarrieth as long in wicked men as in godly men. And w^^at comfort can be herein to any C; ristian man, to receive Christ's unshapeu body, and it to enter no further than the stomach, and to depart by and by as soon as the bread is consumed? 552 BOOK OF MARTYRS. It seemeth to lue a more sound and comfortable doctrine, tliat Christ hath but one body, and that hath form and fashion of a man's true body: which l)ody spiritually entereth into the whole man, body and soul: and though the sacra- ment be consumed, yet whole Christ remaineth, and feedeth the receiver unto eternal life, if he continue in <;odIiness, and never departeth until the receiver forsake liirn. And as for the wicked, they have not Christ within them at all, who cannot be where Belial is. And tliis is my faith, and (as I judge) a sound doctrine, according to God's word, and sufficient for a Christian to believe in that matter. And if it can be shewed unto me that the pope's authority is not prejudicial to the things before mentioned, or that my doctrine in the sacrament is erroneous (which I think cannot be shewed), then I never was nor will be so perverse to stand wilfully in mine own opinion, but I shall with all humi- lity submit myself unto the pope, not only to kiss his feet, but an- other part also. Another cause why I refused to take the bishop of Gloucester for my judge was, the respect of his own person, being more than once perjured. First, for that he being divers times sworn never to con- sent that the bishop of Rome should have any jurisdiction within this realm, but to take the king ^nd his successors for supreme head of this realm, as by God's laws they are; contrary to that lawful oath, the said bishop sat then in judgment Ijy authority from Rome, wherein he was per- jured, and not worthy to sit as judge. The second perjury was, that he took his bishopric both of the queen's majesty and of the pope, making to each of them a solemn oath, which oaths are so contrary, that the one must needs be per- jured. And, furthermore, in swearing to the pope to maintain his laws, decrees, constitutions, ordinances, reservations, and pro- visions, be dedarefh LiuSself aa enemy to the imperial crown, and to the laws and state of this realm, whereby he declareth himself not worthy to sit as a judge within this realm. And for these considera- tions I refused to take him for my judge. HIS SECOND LETTER TO THE QUEEN. I LEARNED by Mr. Martin that on the day of your majesty's coro- nation, you took an oath of obe- dience to the pope of Rome, and the same time you took another oath to this realm, to maintain the laws, libenies, and customs of the same. And if your majesty did make an oath to the pope, I think it was according to the other oaths which he useth to administer to princes: which is to be obedient to him, to defend his person, to maintain his authority, honour, laws, lands, and privileges. And if it be so, (which I know not but by report), then I beseech your majesty to look upon your oath made to the crown and realm, and to compare and weigh the two oaths together, to see how they do agree, and then do as your majesty's conscience shall direct you; for I am surely persuaded, that willing'y your majesty will not offend, nor do against your conscience for any thing. But I fear that there are contra- dictions in your oaths, and that those which should have informed your grace thoroughly, did not their duties therein. And if your majesty ponder the two oaths dili- gently, I think you shall perceive you were deceived ; and then your highness may use the matter as God shall put in your heart. Fur- thermore, I am kept here from the company of learned men, from books, from counsel, from pen and ink, except at this time to write unto your majesty, which were all ne- cessary for a man in my case. Wherefore I beseech your ma- jesty, that I may have such of these as may stand with your ma- jesty's pleasure. And as for my appearance at Rome, if your ma- ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 553 jesty will give mc leave, I ivill ap- pear there. And I trust that God shall put in my mouth to defend his trutii there as well as here. But I refer it wholly to your ma- jesty's pleasure. HIS LETTER TO MRS. WILKINSON, EXHORTING HER TO FLY IN THE TIME OF PERSECUTION. The true comforter in all dis- tress is only God, through his Son Jesus Christ; and whosoever hath him, hath company enough if he were in a wilderness all alone: and he that hath twenty thousand in his company, if God be absent, is in a miserable wilderness and desolation. In Him is all comfort, and without Him is none. Where- fore, I beseech you, seek your dwelling there where you may truly and rightly serve God, and dwell in him, and have him ever dwelling in you. What can be so heavy a burden as an unquiet con- science, to be in such a place as a man cannot be suffered to serve God in Christ's religion? If you are loth to depart from your kin- dred and friends, remember that Christ calleth them his mother, sisters, and brothers, that do his Father's will. Where we find, therefore, God truly honoured, ac- cording to his will, there we can want neither friend nor kindred. If you be loth to depart, for the slander of God's word, remember that Christ, when his hour was not yet come, departed out of his country into Samaria, to avoid the malice of the scribes and phari- sees; and commanded his apostles, that if they were persecuted in one place they should fly to another. And was not Paul let down by a basket out at a window, to avoid the persecution of Aretas? And what wisdom and policy he used from time to time to escape the malice of his enemies, the Acts of the Apostles do declare. And after the same sort did the other apostles, although, when it came to such a point, that they could no longer escape danger of the perse- cutor of God's true religion, then they shewed themselves, that their flying before came not of fear, but of godly wisdom to do more good ; and that they would not rashly, without urgent necessity, offer themselves to death, which had been but a temptation of God. Yea, when they were apprehended, and could no longer avoid, then they stood boldly to the profession of Christ; then they shewed how little they dreaded death ; how much they feared God more than man: how much they loved and preferred the eternal life to come above this short and miserable life. Wherefore, I exhort you, as well by Christ's commandment, as by the example of him and his apos- tles, to withdraw yourself from the malice of your's and God's ene- mies, into some place where God is most purely served; which is no slandering of the truth, but a pre- serving of yourself to God and the truth, and to the society and com- fort of Christ's little flock. And what you will do, do it with speed, lest by your own folly you fall into the persecutor's hands. And the Lord send his Holy Spirit to lead and guide you wheresoever you go, and all that be godly will say, Amen. SECTION XVI. rERSECUTIONS AND MARTYRDOMS OF VARIOUS PERSONS, AFTER THE DEATH OF ARCHBISHOP CRANMER, pal employment, and her greatest pleasure. Her emissaries were continually " seeking whom they might devour:" and the martyr- doms and cruelties inflicted under The force of bigotry in the breast of the unrelenting Mary, only terminated with her life. The destruction of those who could not think as she did, was her priaci- 554 BOOK OF MARTYRS. her orders, will load her, name with indelible infamy. MARTYRDOMS OF AGNES POTTEN, AND JOAN TRUNCHFIELD. These two advocates and suffer- ers for the pure gospel of Christ, lived in the town of Ipswich, in Sufi'olk. Being apprehended on an information of heresy, they were brought before the bishop of Norwich; who examined them concerning their religion in gene- ral, and their faith in the corporeal presence of Christ in the sacra- ment of the altar, in particular. With respect to the latter arti- cle, they both delivered it as their opinion, that in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, there was re- presented the memorial only of Christ's death and passion, saying, that, according to the Scriptures, he was ascended up into heaven, and sat on the right hand of God the Father; and therefore his body could not be really and substan- tially in the sacrament. A few days after this, they were again examined by the bishop, when both of them still continuing steadfast in the profession of their faith, sentence was pronounced against them as heretics, and they were delivered over to the secular power. On the day appointed for their execution, which was in tlie month of March, 1556, they were both led to the stake, and burnt, in the town of Ipswich. Their constancy was admired by the multitude who saw them suffer; for, as they un- dressed, and prepared themselves for the fire, they earnestly exhorted the people to believe only in the unerring word of the only living and true God, and not regard the devices and inventions of men. They both openly declared that they despised the errors and su- perstitions of the church of Rome, and most patiently submitted to the acute torments of devouring flames, calling upon the God of their salvation, and triumphing in being deemed worthy to suffer for the glorious cause of Jesus Christ, their Lord and master. MARTYRDOMS OF JOHN MAUNDREL, WILLIAM COBERLY, AND JOHN SPICER. John Maundrel was the son of Robert Maundrel, of Rowd, in the county of Wilts, farmer; he was from his childhood brought up in husbandry, and when he came to man's estate, he dwelt in a village called Euckhamptou, in the above county, where he lived in good re- pute. After the Scripture was translated into English by William Tindal, this John Maundrel be" came a diligent hearer thereof, and a fervent embracer of God's true religion, so that he delighted in nothing so much as to hear and speak of God's word, never being without the New Testament about him, although he could not read himself, as was at that period too frequently the case among persons in his station of life. But when he came into the company of any one who could read, his book was always ready; and having a very good memory, he could recite by heart most places of the New Testa- ment; and his life and conversation were very honest and charitable. In the reign of king Henry the Eighth, whe-n Dr. Trigonion and Dr. Lee visited the abbeys, John Maundrel was brought before Dr. Trigonion, at an abbey called Edyngton, in Wiltshire ; where he was accused that he had spoken against the holy water and holy bread, and such like ceremonies, and was condemned to wear a white sheet, bearing a candle in his hand, about the market, in the town of Devizes. Nevertheless, his fervency did not abate, but, by God's merciful assistance, he took better hold, as the sequel will de- clare. In the days of queen Mary, when popery was restored again, and God's true religion put to si- lence, Maundrel left his own house and went into Gloucesterslrire, and into the north part of Wiltshire, MAUNDREL, COBERLY, AND SPICER. 565 wantieriii^ from one to another to such men as he knew feared God, with whom, as a servant to keep their cattle, he remained sometime; but afterwards returned to his own country, and coming to Devizes, to a friend of his, named Anthony Clee, he mentioned his intention of returning home to his house. And when his friend exhorted him by the words of Scripture, to flee from one city to another, he re- plied again by the words of the Revelations, of them that be fear- ful, and said, that he must needs go home; and so he did; and here he, Spicer, and Coberly, used at times to resort and confer together. At length, they agreed together to go to the parish church, where, seeing the parishioners in the pro- cession, following and worship- ping the idol there carried, they advised them to leave the same, and to return to the living God, particularly speaking to one Ro- bert Barksdale, the principal man of the parish, but he paid no regard to their words. After this the vicar came into the pulpit, and being about to read his bead-roll, and to praj' for the .souls in purgatory, .John Maandrel, speaking with an audible voice, said, that was the pope's pinfold, the other two aflSrming the same. Upon which words, by command of the priest, they were put in the stocks, where they remained till the service was dene, and then were brought before a justice of the peace; the next day they were all three carried to Salisbury, and taken before bishop Capon, and William Geffrey, chancellor of the diocese ; by whom they were im- prisoned, and oftentimes examin- ed concerning their faith, in their houses, but seldom openly. And at the last examination the usual articles being alleged against them, they answered, as Christian men should and ought to believe : and first they said, they believed in God the Father, and in the Son, and in the Holy Ghost, the twelve articles of the creed, the holy scrip- ture from tho fii-st of Genesis to the last of the Revelation. But that faith the chancellor would not allow. Wherefore he proposed them in particular arti- cles : First, whether they did not believe, that in the sacrament of the altar (as he termed it), after the words of consecration spoken by the priest at mass, there re- mained no substance of bread nor wine, but Christ's body, flesh and blood, as he was born of the virgin Mary. To which they answered negatively, saying that the popish mass was abominable idolatry, and injurious to the blood of Christ ; but confessing, that in a faithful congregation, receiving the sacrament of Christ's body and blood, being duly administer- ed according to Christ's institution, Christ's body and blood is spiritu- ally received of the faithful believer. Also, being asked whether the pope was supreme head of the church, and Christ's vicar on earth; they answered negatively, saying, that the bishop of Rome doth usurp over emperors and kings, being antichrist and God's enemy. The chancellor said, " Will you have the church without a head ?" They answered, " Christ was head of his church, and under Christ the queen's majesty." "What," said the chancellor, " a woman head of the church ?" " Yea," said they, " within her grace's dominions." They were also asked whether the souls in purgatory were deli- vered by the pope's pardon, and the suffrages of the church. They siaid, they belicTed faith- fully that the blood of Christ had purged their sins, and the sins of them that were saved, unto the end of the world, so that they feared nothing of the pope's pur- gatory, nor esteemed his pardons. Also, whether images were ne- cessary to be in the churches, as laymen's books, and saints to be prayed uri'to and worshipped. They answered negatively, John Manndrel adding, "that wooden images were good to roast a shoul- der of mutton, but evii in the church ; whereby idolatry was committed." 656 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Those articles being thus an- swered, the chancellor read their condemnation, and so delivered them to the sheriff, who was pre- sent during the examination. John Spicer then said, " O, master sheriff, now must you be their butcher, that you may be guilty also with them of innocent blood before the Lord." This was on the 23d day of March, 1556, and on the following day, they were carried out of the common gaol to a place between Salisbury and Wilton, where were two stakes set for them to be burnt at. Upon coming to the place, they kneeled down, and made their prayers se- cretly together, and then being un- dressed to their shirts, John Maun- drel cried out, with a loud voice, " Not for all Salisbury {" Which words were understood to be an answer to the sheriff', who offered him the queen's pardon if he would recant. And after that John Spicer said, " This is the joyful- lest day, that ever I saw." Thus were the three burnt at two stakes: where most constantly they gave their bodies to the fire, and their souls to the Lord, for the testimony of his truth. The wife of William Coberly, being also apprehended, was de- tained in the keeper's house at the same time that her husband was in prison. The keeper's wife, Agnes Penicote, having secretly heated a key red hot, laid it in the back-yard, and desired Alice Co- berly to fetch it to her in all haste ; the poor woman went immediately to bring it, and taking it up in haste, burnt her hand terribly. Whereupon she crying out, " Ah ! thou drab," cried the keeper's wife, " thou that canst not abide the burning of the key, how wilt thou be able to abide burning thy whole body?" And indeed, she was weak enough to recant. But to return to the story of Coberly; he being at the stake, was somewhat long in burning : after his body was scorched wth the flames, and the flesh of his left arm entirely consumed by the violence of the fire, at length he stoop-ed over the chain, and with the right hand, which was less injured, smote upon his breast softly, the blood gushing out of his mouth. Afterwards, when all thought he had been dead, suddenly he rose upright again, but shortly after ex- pired, following his companions to the realms of eternal glory and felicity. MARTYRDOMS OF RICHARD AND THOMAS SPURG, JOHN CAVILL, AND GEORGE AMBROSE, LAYMEN ; AND OF ROBERT DRAKE AND WIL- LIAM TIMS, MINISTERS. These six pious Christians re- sided in the county of Essex. Being accused of heresy, they were all apprehended, and sent by the lord Rich, and other commis- sioners, at different times, to bi- shop Gardiner, lord chancellor ; who, after a short examination, sent the four first to the Marshalsea prison in the Borough, and the two last to the King's Bench, where they continued during a whole year, till the death of bishop Gar- diner. When Dr. Heath, archbishop of York, succeeded to the chancellor- ship, four of these persecuted bre- thren, namely, Richard and Tho- mas Spurg, John Cavill and George Ambrose, weary of their tedious confinement, presented a petition to the lord chancellor, subscribing their names, and re- questing liis interest for their en- largement. A short time after the delivery of this petition, sir Richard Read, one of the officers of the court of Chan- cery, was sent by the chancellor to the Marshalsea to examine them. Richard Spurg, the first who passed examination, being asked the cause of his imprisonment, replied, that he, with several others, being complained of by the minister of Bocking, for not coming to their parish church, to the lord Rich, was thereupon sent up to London by his lordship, to be examined by the late chan- cellor. He acknowledged that he had not been at church since the Bug- SPUHG, CAVILL, AND OTHERS. 557 lish service was changed into Latin (except on Christmas day was twelvemonth) because he disliked the same, and the mass also, as not agreeable to God's holy word. He then desired that he might be no farther examined concerning this matter until it pleased the present chancellor to inquire his faith concerning the same, which he was ready to testify. Thomas Spurg, on his examina- tion, answered to the same effect with the other, confessing that lie absented himself from church, be- cause the word of God was not there truly taught, nor the sacra- ments of Christ duly adminis- tered, as prescribed by the same word. Being farther examined touch- ing his faith in the sacrament of the altar; he said, that if he stood accused in that particular, he would answer as God had given him knowledge, which he should do at another opportunity. John Cavill likewise agreed in the chief particulars with his bre- thren : but farther said, the cause of his absenting himself from church was, that the minister there had advanced two doctrines con- trary to each other ; for first, in a sermon which he delivered when the queen came to the crown, he exhorted the people to believe the gospel, declaring it to be the truth, and that if they believed it not, they would be damned ; and se- condly, in a future discourse, he declared that the New Testament was false in forty places ; which contrariety gave Cavill much dis- gust, and was, among other things, the cause of his absenting himself from church. George Ambrose answered to the same effect, adding, moreover, that after he had read the late bi- shop of Winchester's book, inti- tuled, De vera Obedientia, with bi- shop Bonner's preface thereunto annexed, both inveighing against the authority of the bishop of Rome, he esteemed their princi- ples more lightly than he had done before. Robert Drake was minister of Thundersly, in Essex, to which living he had been presented by lord Rich in the reign of Edward VI. when he was ordained priest by Dr. Ridley, then bishop of Lon- don, according to the reformed English service for ordination. On the accession of queen Mary to the throne of England, he was sent for by Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, who demanded of him whether he would conform, like a good subject, to the laws of the realm then in force? He an- swered, that he would abide by those laws that were agreeable to the law of God ; upon which ho was immediately committed to prison. William Tims was a deacon and curate of Hockley, in Essex, in the reign of Edward VI. but being deprived of his living soon after the death of that monarch, he absconded, and privately preach- ed in a neighbouring wood, whither many of his flock attended to hear the word of God. In consequence of these proceed- ings he was apprehended by one of the constables, and sent up to the bishop of London, by whom he was referred to Gardiner, bi- shop of Winchester, and lord- chancellor, who committed him to the King's Bench prison. A short time after his confine- ment, he (with the others before- mentioned) was ordered to appear before the bishop of London, who questioned him in the usual man- ner, concerning his faith in the sa- crament of the altar. Mr. Tims answered, that the body of Christ was not in the sa- crament of the altar, really and corporeally, after the words of consecration spoken by the priest ; and that he had been a long time of that opinion, ever since it had pleased God, of his infinite mercy, to call him to the true knowledge of the gospel of his grace. On the 28th of' March, 1556, 558 BOOK OF MARTYRS. these six persons were all broufi^ht into the consistory court, in St. Paul's church, before the bishop of London, in order to be examined, for the last time ; when he assured them, that if they did not submit to the church of Rome, they should be condemned for heresy. The bishop began his examina- tion with Tims, whom he called the ringleader of the others: he told him, that he had taught them heresies, confirmed them in their erroneous opinions, and endea- voured, as far as in him lay, to render them as abominable as him- self; with many other accusations equally false and opprobrious. He was then asked by the bi- shop what he had to say in his own vindication, in order to pre- vent him from proceeding against him as his ordinary. To which he replied as follows : " My lord, I am astonished that you should begin your charge with a falsehood; you aver that I am the ringleader of the company now brought' before you, and have taught them principles contrary to the Romish church, since we have been in confinement ; but the injustice of this declaration will soon appear, if you will inquire of these my brethren, whether, when at liberty, and out of prison, they dissented not from popish principles as much as they do at present ; such inquiry, I presume, will render it evident, that they learned not their religion in pri- son. " For my own part, I declare I never knew them, till such time as I became their fellovz-prisoner ; how then could I be their ring- leader and teacher ? With respect to the charge alleged against me, a charge which you endeavour to aggravate to the highest degree, whatever opinion you maintain concerning me, I am well assured I hold no other religion than what Christ preached, the apostles wit- nessed, the primitive church re- ceived, and of late the apostolical and evangelical preachers of this realm have faithfully taught, and for which you have cruelly caused them to be burnt, and now seek to treat us with the like inhuman se- verity. I acknowledge you to be my ordinary." The bishop, finding it necessary to come to the point with him, demanded, if he would submit himself to the holy mother-church, promising, that if he did, he should be kindly received ; and threaten- ing, at the same time, that if he did not, judgment should be pronounc- ed against him as an heretic. In answer to this, Tims told his lordship he was well persuaded that he was within the pale of the Catholic church, whatever he might think ; and reminded him, that he had most solemnly abjured that very church to which he since pro- fessed such strenuous allegiance ; and that, contrary to his oath, he again admitted, in this realm, the authority of the pope, and was, therefore, perjured and forsworn in the' highest degree. He also recalled to his memory, that he had spoken with great force and perspicuity against the usurped power of the pope, though he af- terwards sentenced persons to be burnt, because they would not ac- knowledge the pope to be the su- preme head of the church. On this Bonner sternly demand- ed, what he had written against the church of Rome? Mr. Tims pertinently answered, " My lord, the late bishop of Win- chester wrote a verj' learned trea- tise, intituled, De vera Ohedientia, which contains many solid argu- ments against the papal suprem- acy : to this book you wrote a pre- face, strongly inveighing against the bishop of Rome, reproving his tyranny and usurpation, and shew- ing that his power was ill-found- ed, and contrary both to the will of God, and the real interest of mankind." The bishop, struck with the poignancy of this reproof, evasive- ly told him, that the bishop of Winchester wrote a book against the supremacy of the pope's holi- ness, and he wrote a preface to the TIMS, DRAKE, AND OTHERS. 659 same book, tending^ to the same purpose : i)Ut that the cause of the same arose not from their disre- gard to his holiness, but because it was then deemed treason by the laws of the realm to maintain the pope's authority in Enpjland. He also observed, that at such time it was dangerous to profess to favour the church of Rome, and therefore fear compelled them to comply with the prevailing opi- nions of the times : for if any per- son had conscientiously acknow- ledged the pope's authority in those days, he would have been put to death : but that since the queen's happy accession to the throne, they might boldly speak the dictates of their consciences ; and farther reminded him, that as my lord of Winchester was not ashamed to recant his eiTors at St. Paul's cross, and that he himself had done the same, every inferior clergyman should follow the ex- ample of his superiors. Mr. Tims, still persisting in the vindication of his own conduct, and reprehension of that of the bishop, again replied, "My lord, that which you have written against the supremacy of the pope may be well proved fiom scripture to be true ; that which you now do is contrary to the word of God, as I can sufficiently prove." Bonner, after much farther con- versation, proceeded according to the form of law, causing his arti- cles, with the respective answers to each, to be publicly read in court. Mr. Tims acknowledged only two sacraments. Baptism and the Lord's Supper; comniended the bishop of Winchester's book De vera Ohedientia, and the bishop of London's preface to the same. He declared that the mass was blasphemy of Christ's passion and death ; that Christ is not corpo- really but spiritually present in the sacrament, and that, as they used it, it was an abominable idol. Bonner exhorted him to revoke his errors and heresies, conform to the church of Rome, and not abide strenuously by the literal sense of the scripture, but use the interpre- tation of the fathers. Our martyr frankly declared he would not conform thereunto, not- withstanding the execrations de- nounced against him by the ci.urch of Rome, and demanded of the bishop what he had to support the doctrine of the real presence of Christ in the sacrament of the altar, but the bare letter of scrip- ture ? On the bishop's replying. The authority of the holy Catholic church, Tims informed him that he had the popish church, for which he was perjured and for- sworn, declaring that the see of Rome was the see of Antichrist, and therefore he would never consent to yield obedience to the same. The bishop, finding Mr. Tims so inflexible in his adherence to the faith he professed, that every attempt to draw him from it was vain and fruitless, read his defini- tive sentence, and he was deliver- ed over to the secular power. Bonner then used the same mea- sures Avith Drake as he had done with Tims ; but Drake frankly de- clared, that he denied the church of Rome, with all the works there- of, even as he denied the devil, and all his works. The bishop, perceiving all his exhortations fruitless, pronounced sentence of condemnation, and he was immediately delivered into the custody of the sherifls. After this, Thomas and Richard Spurg, George Ambrose, and John Cavill, were severally asked, if they would forsake their heresies, and return to the Catholic church. They all refused consenting to the church of Rome ; but said, they were willing lo adhere to the true Catholic church, and continue in the same. Bonner then read their several definitive sentences, after which he committed them to the custody of the sherifls of Loudon, by whom they were conducted to Newgate. 3 560 BOOK OF MARTYRS. On the 14th of April, 1566, the day appointed for their execution, they were all led to Smithfield, where they were chained to the same stake, and burnt in one fire, patiently submitting themselves to the flames, and resig:ning their souls into the hands of that glo- rious Redeemer, for whose sake they delivered their bodies to be burned. Mr. Tims, during his imprison- ment, wrote a great number of let- ters to his friends and brethren in the cause of Christ; among which we shall preserve the following: TO CERTAIN GODLY WOMEN OF HIS PARISH. Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father, through our Lord Jesus Christ, be with you both now and evermore. Amen. Dear sisters, I have me most heartily recommended unto you, thanking you for the great kind- ness shewed unto me in this time of mine imprisonment, and net only unto me, but also unto my poor wife and children; and also for the great kindness that you shew unto all the living saints that are dispersed abroad, and are obliged to hide their heads for fear of this cruel persecution. Dear sisters, when I do remem- ber your constancy in Christ, I call to remembrance the constancy of divers godly women, as Susan- nah, Judith, Esther, and the good wife of Nabal, that through her godly conditions saved both her husband's life, and all her house- hold, when David had thought to have slain him for his churlish an- swer that he sent him. Also I do remember Rahab that lodged the Lord's spies, how God preserved her and her whole household for her faithfulness that she bare to God's people. So do I believe that when the Lord shall send his angel to destroy these idolatrous Eg'yptians here in England, and shall find the ^blood of the Lamb sprinkled on the door-post of your hearts, he will go by and not hurt you, but spare your whole house- holds for your sakes. Also I re- member Mary Magdalen, how faithful she was; for she was the first that preached the resurrection of Christ. Remember the blessed martyr, Anne Askew, in onr time, and follow her example of con- stancy, and, for the love of God, take heed that in no case yon con- sent to idolatry, but stand fast to the Lord, as the good woman did that had her seven sons put to death before her face, and she al- ways comforting them; yea, and last of all suffered death herself, for the testimony of her God, which is the living God. Thus I beseech God to send you grace and strength to stand fast to the Lord, as she did, and then you shall be sure of the same kingdom that she is sure of; to which king- dom I pray God bring both you and me. Amen. By me, prisoner in the King's Bench, William Tims. to his friends in hockley. The grace of God the Father, through the merits of his dear Sou Jesus, our Lord and only Saviour, with the continual aid of his holy and mighty Spirit, to the perform- ance of his will, to our everlasting comfort, be with you, my dear brethren, both now and evermore, Amen. My dearly beloved, I beseech God to reward the great goodness that you have shewed unto me, se- ven-fold into your bosoms ; and as you have always had a most godly love unto his word, even so I be- seech him to give you grace to love your own souls, and then I trust you will flee from all those things that should displeasure our good and merciful God, and hate and abhor all the company of those that would have you to wor- ship God any otherwise than is contained in his holy word. And beware of those masters of idola- try, that is, these papistical priests. My dear brethren, for the tender mercy- of God, remem- ber'well what I have said unto you, and also written, which I am WILLIAM TIMS. 661 ROW ready to seal with n\y blood. 1 praise God tliat ever I lived to see the day, and blessed be my good and merciful God, that ever Le gave me a body to glorify his name. And, dear hearts, I do now write unto you for none other cause, but to put you in remenj- brance that I have not forgotten you, to the end that I would not have you forget me, but to remem- ber well what I have simply, by word of mouth and writing, taught you. Which, although it were most simply done, yet truly, as your own conscience beareth me record : and, therefore, in any case take heed that you do not that thing which your own conscience doth condemn. Therefore come out of Sodom, and go heavenward, with the servants and martyrs of God, lest you be paitakors of tiie vengeance of God that is coming upon this wicked nation, from which the Lord God defend you, and send us a joyful meeluig in the kingdom of heaven; untti which God bring you all, Amen. Thus, now I take my leave of you for ever in this world, ••^cept 1 be burned amongst you, which thing is uncertain unto me as yet. By me, in Newgate, your poor- est and most unworthy brother m Christ, W. Tims. Netvgate, April \1. Tliirteen Protestant Martyrs, consisting of eleven Meti and two ]^ oiucn, h"..iU (o^cdier in one fire, at Stratford in Essex. TO HIS PARISHIONERS, THANKING THEM FOR THEIR CHARITY SHEWN TO HIS WIFE. The everlasting peace of our Lord and only Saviour Jesus Christ, with the sweet comfort of his holy and mighty Spirit, to the FOX'S 3UUTVUS. increase of your faith, to the •,€}•- formance of his will, and to your eternal comfort in the everlasting kingdom of heaven, be with you, my dear brethren and sisters, both now and ever, Amen. My most dear brctiiren and sis- 36 562 BOOK OF MARTYRS. ters in our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, I have me most heartily commended unto you, with hearty thanks for all the g;reat liberality that you have shewed unto me, and especially now in the time of my necessity, when that God hath sent ray poor wife a child in my captivity ; which is no little care to me, so to provide, that I might keep both ray child and my wife from the Antichrlstian church : which thing, I thank my God, through his most gracious provi- dence, I have yet done, though it be (as ye know) great charge, not to me, but to the congregation of God, and it grieveth me that I have been so chargeable to them as I have been, and especially you, my dear brethren, I being so un- worthy a member as I have been, and also of so small acquaintance : but such is the merciful goodness of God, so as to move your hearts with charity towards me. And as he hath moved your hearts so to do, even so I beseech God to give you power to forsake and reject all things which are displeasing in his sight, to do all things which are requisite to a Christian ; and send you grace to go forwards in the same, as you have godly begun, neither fearing lire nor sword. And, my most dear hearts, remem- ber well the simple plain doctrine which I have taught you, and also written unto you, which was the truth, and for a testimony of the same I trust that you shall shortly hear, or else see, that I will seal the same with my blood. And, in the mean time, I desire you all to remember me in your prayers, as I know you do, and as, with God's help, I will do for you, that God, for his dear Son Christ's sake, will so finish the days of our pilgrimage, that we mayjrest toge- ther with Abraham, Isaac, and Ja- cob, in the everlasting kingdom of heaven, to which I beseech the eternal Lord, for his Christ's sake, to bring both you and all your's, Amen. By me, WiLUAM Tims. MARTYRDOMS OF JOAN BEACH, WIDOW, OF tunbridge; and JOHN HARPOLE, OF ROCHESTER. Information being laid against these two persons, for heresy, they were apprehended, and, by the magistrates of the respective places where they lived, committed to prison. After being some time in confinement, they were sepa- rately examined before Maurice, bishop of Rochester, their dioce- san. Joan Beach was first taken be- fore the bishop for examination, when the following articles were exhibited against her: 1. That living in the parish of Tunbridge she belonged to the dio- cese of Rochester. This she granted- 2. That all people who preach, teach, believe, or say otherwise, or contrary to their mother, the holy Catholic church, are excommuni- cated persons, and heretics. This she acknowledged to be true, but added withal, " that, ne- vertheless, she believed not the holy Catholic church to be her mo- ther, but believed only the Father of heaven to be her father." 3. That she had affirmed, and did affirm, maintain, and believe, contrary to the said mother church of Christ, that in the bles&ed sa- crament of the altar, under form of bread and wine, there is not the very body and blood of our Sa- viour Christ in substance, but only a token and memorial thereof, and that the very blood of Christ is in heaven, and not in the sacrament. 4. That Christ, being in heaven, could not be in the sacrament. To this she answered, " that she had, and did verily believe, hold, and affirm, in the sacrament of the altar, under the forms of bread and wine, there was not the very body and blood of our Saviour, in sub- stance, but only a token and re- membrance of his death, to the faithful receiver, and that his body and substance is only in heaven, and not in the sacrament." 5. That she had been, and then was, among the parishioners af LISTER, MACE, AND OTHERS. 56' Tunbrid^c, noted and ' strongly suspected of being a sacramentary, and an heretic. To this she answered, " that she did not know how she had been, or was reputed amongst the pa- rishioners of Tunbridge, nor was their opinion of any avail to her immortal state." The bishop finding her inflexible in the faith she professed, strongly urged her to preserve her life by renouncing her errors; which she peremptorily refusing, he pro- nounced sentence on her, and she was delivered over to the secular power. John Harpole being next exa- mined before the same bishop, ar- ticles of a similar nature were ex- hibited against him as against his fellow-sufterer, Joan Beach. His answers to all of them were to the same import as hers : upon which the bishop pronounced sen- tence of death on him in the usual form. These two faithful followers of Christ were burnt together, in one fire, in the city of Rochester, about the latter end of April, 1556. They embraced each other at the stake, and cheerfully resigned their souls into the hands of their Redeemer; after repeatedly sing- ing hallelujahs to the praise and glory of his name. SUFFERINGS OF CHRISTOPHER LIS- TER, JOHN MACE, JOHN SPEN- CER, SIMON JOYN, RICHARD NI- CHOLS, AND JOHN HAMMOND; WHO WERE ALL BURNT TOGE- THER AT COLCHESTER. These six persons being all ap- prehended on a charge of heresy, were brought before bishop Bon- ner, at his palace at Fulham ; where articles were exhibited against them, of the same nature, and in the usual form, as those against others on the like occa- sion. To the first article, namely, " that there was one holy Catho- lic church on earth, in which the religion and faith of Christ is truly professed," they all consented and agreed; but John Spencer added, " that tlie church of Rome was no part of Christ's Catholic church." To the second, concerning the seven sacraments, they answered, " that in the true Catholic church of Christ, there are but two sacra- ments. Baptism, and the Lord's Supper." To the third, they unanimously agreed and confessed, " that they were baptized in the faith and be- lief of the Catholic church, and that their godfathers and godmo- thers had promised and professed for them as contained in the article administered." To the fourth article, concerning their continuance in that faith and profession into which they were baptized, they agreed that they did so continue; Nichols observed, " that he had more plainly learned the truth of his profession, bj' the doctrine set forth in the days of king Edward the Sixth ; that thereupon he had built his faith, and would continue in the same, by the grace of God, to his life's end." Concerning swerving from the Catholic faith, they declared that they had not swerved, nor departed in the least, from the faith of Christ. They unanimously confessed, " that tliey had disapproved of, and spoken against the sacrifice of the mass, and the sacrament of the altar, affirming, that they would not come to hear, nor be partakers thereof; that ,they had believed, and then did believe, that thej-^ were set forth and used contrary to God's word and glory." They granted also that they had spoken against the usurped autho- rity of the bishop of Rome, who was an oppressor of the holy church of Christ, and ought not to have any power in England. Concerning their reconciliation to the unity of the church, they said, "that they never refused, nor did then refuse, to be recon- ciled to the unity of Christ's Ca- tholic church; but declared thev had, and then did, and would for 564 BOOK OF MARTYRS. ever hereafter, refuse to come to the church of Rome, or to acknow- ledge the authority of the papal see; but did utterly abhor the same, for rejecting- the book of God, the Bible, and setting up the mass, with other ridiculous and antichristian ceremonies." They all granted, that, disap- proving the mass, and sacrament of the altar, they had refused to come to the parish church, &c.; and Simon Joyn added, moreover, " that the cause wherefore he re- fused to be partaker of their trum- pery, was, because the command- ments of God were there broken, and Christ's ordinances changed, and the bishop of Rome's ordi- nances put up in their stead." Christopher Lister affirmed, " that in the sacrament of the al- tar, there is the substance of bread and wine, as well after the words of consecration as before, and that there is not in the same the very body and blood of Christ, really, substantially, and spiritually, by faith in the faithful receiver, and that the mass is not a propitiatory sacrifice for the quick and dead, but mere idolatry and abomina- tion." They then said, " that they were sent to Colchester prison, by the king and queen's commissioners, because they would not come to their parish churches: that what was contained in the premises was true ; and that they belonged to the diocese of London." On the close of this examination the bishop dismissed them, but ordered them to attend again in the afternoon. This order they obeyed, when the articles and an- swers of the first examination were read to them; and they resolutely persisted in the profession they had made. After various endeavours to bring them to recant, without the least effect, sentence of death was pronounced against them, and they were all delivered over to the se- cular power. The writ for their execution being made out, they were removed to Colchester, where, on the 28tli of April, 155G, they were fastened to two stakes, and burnt in one fire. They ail cheerfully met their fate, giving glory to God in t!ic midst of the flames and encourag- ing others, for the truth of the gospel, to follow their example. MARTYRDOMS OF HUGH LAVEROCK, AN OLD DliCREPID MAN; AND JOHN APPRICE, A BLIND MAN. The former of these martyrs was by trade a painter, and lived in the parish of Barking in Essex. At the time of his apprehension he was in the 68th year of his age, and very helpless from the natural infirmities of life. Being, how- ever, accused of heresy by some of the popish emissaries in his neigh- bourhood, he, with his fellow- sufferer, was taken before Bonner to be examined with respect to their faith. The bishop laid before them the same articles as have been men- tioned in former instances ; and they returned answers to the same effect as those of other advocates for the truth of the gospel. On the 9th of May, 1566, they Avere both brought into the consis- tory court at St. Paul's, where their articles and answers were publicly read ; after Avhich the bi- shop endeavoured to persuade them to recant their opinions con- cerning the sacrament of the altar. Hugh Laverock declared, that by the grace of God he wiijd (cr- tinue in the profession he had al- ready made, for he could not find the least authority in the word of God for approving the doctrine of the corporeal presence in the sacrament. The bishop then addressed him- self to John Apprice, and demand- ed what he had to say in his de- fence ? Tfce honest blind man an- swered the haughty prelate, "that the doctrine he set forth and taught was so conformable to the world, that it could not be agreeable to the scripture of God ; and that he was no member of the Catholic chureh of Christ, seeing he made CATHARINE HUT, AND OTHERS. 565 laws to kill men, and made the queen his executioner." The first examination being over, they were for the present dismiss- ed, but ordered to appear the next day at the bishop's palace at Ful- ham. Jjcini;; accordingly conduct- ed there, the bishop, after some discourse with them, and finding them steadfast in their faith, pro- nounced the definitive sentence; when, being delivered over to the secular power, they were commit- ted to Newgate. On the 15th of May, they were conveyed to Stratford-le-Bow, the place appointed for their execution. As soon as they arrived at the stake, Laverock threw away his crutch, and thus addressed his fel- low-sufferer: " Be of good comfort, brother, for my lord of London is our good physician : he will cure us both shortly, thee of thy blindness, and me of my lameness." After this they both knelt down, and prayed with great fervency, that God would enable them to pass, with Christian resolution, through the fiery trial. These two undaunted believers in Christ were both chained to one stake. They endured their suf- ferings with great fortitude, and cheerfully yielded up their lives in testimony of the truth of their blessed Redeemer. MARTYRDOMS OF CATHARINE HUT, JOAN HORNES, AND ELIZABETH THACKVILL. These three pious women being apprehended on suspicion of he- resy, were carried before sir John Mordaunt and Mr. Tyrrel, justices of peace for the county of Essex, wlio sent them prisoners to the bishop of London, for not conform- ing to the order of the church, and not believing the real presence of Christ's body in the sacrament of the altar. Being brought before the bishop, he exhibited to them the articles usual on the occasion; to which they answered as follows : To the first, concerning their be- lief that there was a Catholic church of Christ upon earth, they all assented. To the second, relating to the seven sacraments, they said "they did no* understand properly what they were." To the third, concerning their baptism, they replied, " they be- lieved they were baptized, but knew not what their godfathers and godmothers promised for them." To the fourth, about their con- tinuance in the same faith into which they were baptized, until they arrived at the age of fourteen years, or the age of discretion, without disapproving the same ; they granted it to be true. To this article Catharine Hut observed, " that at that time she did not understand what she pro- fessed." .loan Homes added, "that in the days of king Edward VI. she learned the faith that was then set forth, and still continued in the same ; and would, with God's as- sistance, so continue during the remainder of her life." To the fifth article, concerning the mass, and the sacrament of the altar, they said, " they could dis- cern no excellence in the mass, nor could they believe but that Christ's natural body was in hea- ven, and not in the sacrament of the altar." Concerning the see of Rome, tliey acknowledged no supremacy in the same, nor would they ad- here to it. To -the sixth article, of their re- conciliation to the church of Rome, they refused to be reconciled to the same. To the seventh, of their disap- proving the service of the church, and not frequenting their parish church, they acknowledged it to be true. Catharine Hut alleged, as the cause of her absenting herself from church, that she neither ap- proved the service in Latin, the mass matins, or even-song ; nor were the sacraments used and ad« 566 BOOK OF MARTYRS. ministered according to God's word. She declared, inoreover, that the mass was an idol, ueither was the true body and blood of Christ in the sacrament of the altar, as they wished to compel persons to believe. To the ei.^hth article they de- clared, " that they were all sent up to the bishop of London, by sir John Mordaunt and Edmund Tyrrel, Esq. justices of the peace for the county of Essex, because they could not believe the presence of Christ's body and blood in the sacrament of the altar ; aad for ab- senting themselves from their pa- rish church." To the uiiith article, that they were of the diocese of London, they all assented, except Catha-" rine Hut, who said she was of the parish of Becking, in Essex, which is of the peculiar jurisdic- tion of Canterbury, and not under that of the diocese of London. On the 13th of April they were again brought before the bishop, and the respective articles, with their answers, publicly read in court, in order to their final judg- ment. ' Catharine Hut, beiag first ex- amined, was required to declare her opinion of the sacrament of the altar, and to return to the Ca- tholic faith. To this she replied, " that the sacrament, as e^nforced by the papists, was not truly God, but a dumb god, made with men's hands ;" upon which she received sentence of death. Joan Horn'us was next exa- mined, and being charged that she did not believe the sacrament of Christ's body and blood to be Christ himself, said, " If y6u can make your god to shed blood, or shew any sign of a true, living body, then will I believe you : but it is bread as to the substance ; and that which you call heresy is the manner in which I trust to serve my God to the end of my life. " Concerning the bishop and see of Rome, I detest them as abomi- nations, and desire ever to be de- livered from the same." In consequence of these answers, sentence of condemnation was im- mediately pronounced on her. Elizabeth Thackvill conti- nuing steadfast in her former con- fessions, and refusing to recant, shared the same fate with the other two ; when they were all de- livered over to the secular power, and committed to Newgate. On the IGth of May, 1556, the day appointed for their execution, they were conducted to Smith- field, where, being all fastened to one stake, and the fagots lighted, their bodies were soon consumed, after they had recommended their spirits into the hands of that God, for the truth of whose word they joyfully suffered death, in hopes of obtaining life everlasting. martyrdom of THOMAS DROWRY, A BLIND BOY, AND THOMAS CROKER. We have just before related the sufierings of two men, the one blind and the other lame ; and we have now another instance of natural blindness conjoined with mental illumination, leading the possessor to a glorious death, and a never-ending felicity in heaven. Thomas Drowry, a blind boy, at his last examination, and final condemnation, was brought by the officers under whose custody he had remained, before Dr. Wil- liams, then chancellor of Glou- cester, sitting judicially in the consistory of the cathedral of Glou- cester. The chancellor having ad- ministered to the boy such articles as were usual in such cases, said to him, " Dost thou not believe, that after the words of consecra- tion spoken by the priest, there remaineth the very real body of Christ in the sacrament of the altar?" To which Drowry answered, " No, that I do not." Chancellor. Then thou art aij DROWRY, CROKER, AND OTHERS. 567 heretic, and shalt be burned. But who hath taiio:ht thee this heresy ? Drowry. You, master chan- cellor. Chancellor. Where, I pray thee ? Drowry. Even in yonder place : (pointing with his hand, and turn- ing- towards the pulpit.) Chancellor. When did I teach thee so? Drowry. When you preached there (naming the day) a sermon to all men as well as to me, upon the sacrament. You said the sa- crament was to be received spiri- tually by faith, and not carnally and really, as the papists have hereto- fore taught. Chancellor. Then do as I have done, and thou shalt live as I do, and escape burning. Drotvry. Though you can so easily dispense with yourself, and mock with God, the world, and your own conscience, yet will I not so do. Chancellor. Then the Lord have mercy upon thee, for I will read the condemnation sentence against thee. Drowry. God's will be fulfilled. The register, Mr. Taylor, being moved with compassion for the boy, and indignation against the shameless persecutor, stood up and said to the chancellor : " Fie for shame, man, will you read the sentence against him, and condemn yourself? Away, away, and substitute some other to give sentence and judgment." Chancellor. No, register, I will obey the law, and give sentence myself, according to mine office. And so he read the sentence condemnatory against the boy, delivering him over to the secular power, and on the 15th day of May, the boy was brought to the place of execution, at Gloucester ; to- gether with one Thomas Croker, a bricklayer, condemned also for the like testimony of the truth. They both together, with great for- titude and resignation, joyfully yielded their souls into the hands of the Lord Jesus. SUFFERINGS OF THOMAS SPICER, JOHN DENNY, AND EDMUND POOLE. These three persons Avere ap- prehended by the justices of the county of Suffolk, in which they lived, and committed to prison, for not attending mass at their pa- rish church. After being some time in confine- ment, they were brought before the chancellor of Norwich, and the register, who sat at the town of Beccles, to examine them with respect to their faith. The arti- cles alleged against them were as follow : 1. That they believed not the pope of Rome to be supreme head, immediately under Christ, of the universal Catholic church. 2. That they believed not holy bread and holy water, ashes, palms, and other like ceremonies used in the church, to be good and laudable for stirring up the people to devotion. 3. That they believed not, after the words of consecration spoken by the priest, the very natural body of Christ, and no other substance of bread and wine, to be in the sa- crament of the altar. 4. That they believed it to be idolatry to worship Christ in the sacrament of the altar. 5. That they took bread and wine in remembrance of Christ's pas- sion. 6. That they would not follow the cross in procession, nor be con- fessed to a priest. They all acknowledged the truth of those accusations ; in conse- quence of which they were con- demned by the chancellor, who first endeavoured to reclaim them from their opinions, and bring them over to the church of Rome ; but all his admonitions and exhorta- tions proving ineffectual, he pro- nounced sentence on them, and they were immediately delivered into the hands of the high-sheriff for the county of SuU'olk. On the 21st of May, 1556, these three pious Christians were led to the stake in the town of Beccles, 6^8 BOOK OF MARTYRS. amidst a great number of lament- ing spectators. As soon as they arrived at the place of execution they devoutly prayed, and repeat- ed the articles of their faith. When they came to that article concerning the holy Catholic church, sir John Sillard, the high- sheriiF, tlius addressed them: " That is well said, Sirs ; I am glad to hear you say you believe the Catholic church; this is the best expression I ever heard from you yet." To this Poole answered, " that though they believed the Catholic church, yet they believed not in their jjopish church, which is no part of Christ's Catholic church; and, therefore, no part of their belief." When they arose from prayer they went joyfully to the stake, and being chained to it, and the fagots lighted, they praised God with such cheerfulness in the midst of the flames, as astonished the nu- merous spectators. Soon after they were fastened to the stake, several bigoted pa- pists called to the executioner to throw fagots at them, in order to stop their mouths; but our mar- tyrs, disregarding their malice, boldly confessed the truth with their latest breath, dying, as they had lived, in certain hopes of a re- surrection to life eternal. MARTYIIDOMS OF THOMAS HARLAND, JOHN OSWALD, THOMAS ABING- TON, AND THOMAS READ ; ALSO OF THOMAS WOOD, THOMAS MILLS, AND OTHERS. The popish emissaries having Jaid informations against the first four persons, they were all appre- hended on suspicion of heresy, and immediately sent to London, to be examined by Bonner, bi- shop of that diocese, relative to their faith. Thomas Harland being first examined, the bishop objected to his conduct in not attending his jparish church: to which he an- swered, that since the mass was restored, he never chose to hear the same, because it was in Latin, which he did not understand, and, therefore, could not reap any be- nefit thereby. John Oswald refused to answer any objection, till his accusers were brought face to face before him; nevertheless, he declared that "he was not to be awed into any concessions by the fear of fire and fagot; but as those who had faithfully administered the gospel of Christ, during the reign of king Edward VI., had suflFered and gone before him, he was ready to suffer and follow after them, and would count it his glory and honour so to do." The other two, Abington and Read, said, they abjured all popish superstitions and errors, and that they would ever hold fast to the faith, as it was in the pure gospel of Christ. The bishop finding them all re- solute, and that they were deter- mined to adhere to their religious opinions, after endeavouring to prevail on them to recant, passed sentence of condemnation on them, and they were immediately delivered over to the secular power. After a long confinement in the King's Bench prison, they were all sent down to Lewes, in Sussex, where, on the 6th of June, 1556, they were burned together in one fire, praising God for enabling them to withstand the malice of their enemies, and to bear, with fortitude, the punishment allotted them for professing the truth of his most holy word. On the 20th of the same month, two other persons suff"ered at the same place, namely, the Rev. Thomas Wood, and Thomas Mills ; who both died with Chris- tian fortitude, rejoicing and prais- ing God, that he had numbered them among those who freely gave up their miserable existence here for the truth of the gospel, jjgi WYE, HOLLYWELL, JACKSON, AND OTHERS. 569 liopes of obtaining an everlasting inberitance in the heavenly man- sions. On the 24th of the same month likewise, William Adderhali, mi- nister, died in the prison of the King's Bench, and was buried in the back-yard: also John Clement, wheelwright, dying in the said prison, was buried in like manner upon the dungliill in the back-yard, on tJie 25th day of June. A pious young man, a mer- chant's servant, for his adherence to the truth, suHered cruel perse- cution from the papists, and was burnt at Leicester, June 26, 1556. MARTYRDOMS OF H. WYE, W. HOL- LYWELL, R. JACKSON, L. PERN, J. DERIFALL, T. BOWYER, G. SEARLS, L. COUCH, H. ADLINTON, J. ROUTH, E, HURST, ELIZ. PEPER, AND AGNES GEORGE. These thirteen persons were ap- prehended in the different places where they lived, the greater part of them being inhabitants of the county of Essex; and were sent, at various times, up to London, to be examined^by bishop Bonner concerning their religious princi- ples. On the 9tli of June they were all brought together before Dr. Darbyshire, the bishop's chancel- lor, who, in form of law adminis- tered to them the following ar- ticles : 1. That there is on earth a Ca- tliolic church, wherein the religion of Christ is truly professed. To this they all answered in the affirmative ; but added, that they believed the true faith of Christ was, wherever the word of God was truly preached. 2. That there were seven sacra- ments. They all answered in the nega- tive ; some affirmed, that in the church of Christ there were only two sacraments, viz. Baptism and the Lord's Supper ; others desired to believe as the scriptures taught tkem ; and others refused to reply, not properly understanding these points. That they were baptized in the faith of the Catholic church, pro- fessing, by their godfathers, &c. the religion of Christ, and to re- nounce the devil and all his works, &c. To this they all assented with- out exception. 4. That when they came to years of discretion, they did not depart from the said profession and faith, and did not disprove any part thereof for several years. The greater part of them an- swered in the affirmative. One of the women added, that in the days of king Edward VI. she departed from her old faith and religion, and embraced the gospel of Christ, as it was then taught and set forth. 5. That of late they had swerved from their former Catholic faith, and had spoken against the mass, the sacrament of the altar, and authority of the papal see. This, upon the whole, they con- fessed to be true. One of them said, the mass was of such a nature, that he could not, in his own conscience, believe it to be authorized from God. Another observed, that for nine or ten years past he could not approve the mass, nor the sacrament of the altar, because they could not be proved from the scripture of truth; declaring, at the same time, that at the age of fourteen he had taken an oath against the authority of the papal see, and would, by the grace of God, abide firmly by the same. 6. That they refused to be re- conciled to the unity of the church, or to confess the lawfulness of the papal see. To this article they all, except two, answered in the aflhmative. Those who refused said they did not understand the import of the same. The two women added, they refused to be reconciled to the faith and religion that was then used in the realm of England, though they never refused to be reconciled and brought to the unity of the Catholic church of Christ. 7. That, disapproving the service 670 BOOK OF MARTYRS. of the church, they refused to come to their parish churches, de- nied the bodily presence of Christ ill the sacrament, called the mass an abomination, &c. This was answered in general in the aihrmative ; but one denied that he called the mass an abomi- nation, or an idol : another, though he granted the article, confessed his infirmity, that he went to his parish church, and received it before be was put into prison. 8. This article related to their being brought before the commis- sioners, and by them sent to the bishop of London ; to which they answered in the following man- ner : Edmund Hurst, Ralph Jackson, and George Searls, answered in the affirmative. Henry Wye said, that he was brought before several justices of peace in Essex, concerning one Highted, his late master, and there- upon committed to Colchester castle, and from thence sent to London to bishop Bonner, for far- ther examination. William Hollywell mad« the like confession, excepting the cir- cumstance of Highted. John Derifall said, he was called before the Lord Rich and Mr. Mildway, of Chelmsford, and by them sent to the bishop of London to be farther examined. Thomas Bowyer said, he was brought before one Mr. Wiseman, of Falstead, and by him sent to Colchester castle, and from thence to the bishop of London, to be far- ther examined. Lyon Couch said, that he was three times brought before the king and queen's commissioners, and by them sent to the bishop of London. Henry Adlinton said, that com- ing to Newgate to speak with one Gratwick, prisoner there for the testimony of Jesus Christ, he was apprehended and brought before Dr. Story, and by him sent to the bishop of London. Agnes George said, that she was 2 committed to prison in Colchester by Mr. Maynard, an alderman of the town, for .refusing to go to church, and was by him sent to the bishop of London. Elizabeth Peper said, that she was apprehended by two consta- bles and an alderman, for refusing to come to church, and by them sent to the bishop of Loudon to be farther examined. 9. That they believed the pre- mises to be true, as confessed above, and that they were of the diocese of London. This was generally agreed to. Elizabeth Peper added, she was of the town of Colchester ; and Agnes George said, she was of the parish of Barefold. These thirteen persons being thus examined by the bishop of London's chancellor, in open court, persisting in their answers, and refusing to recant, or be reconciled to the church of Rome, had sen- tence of condemnation pronounced against them ; and being delivered over to the secular power, were all sent to Newgate. Three others M'ere also condemn- ed to die at the same time ; but before the day appointed for their execution, a reprieve was sent them by cardinal Pole. On the Sunday following the condemnation of these pious Chris- tians, Dr. Fecknam, dean of St. Paul's, told the audience, in his sermon, that " they held as many tenets as there were faces among the whole:" which being repre- sented to them, they drew up the following confession of their faith, to which they respectively sub- scribed their names : " 1. There are but two sacra- ments in Christ's church, that is, the sacrament of Baptism, and the Lord's Supper. For in these are contained the faith of Christ his church ; that is, the two testaments, the law and the gospel. The ef- fect of the law is repentance, and the effect of the gospel, remission of sins. " 2. We believe there is a visi- ble church, wherein the word of BERNARD, FOSTER, AND LAWSON. 571 God is preached, and the holy sa- craments truly administered, visi- ble to the world, although it be not credited, and by the death of saints confirmed, as it was in the time of Elias the prophet, as well as now. "3. The see of Rome is the see of Anti-Christ, the conj^rejijation of the wicked, Sec. whereof the pope is head, under the devil. " 4. The mass is not only a pro- fanation of the Lord's Supper, but also a blasphemous idol. " 5. God is neither spiritually nor corporeally in the sacrament of the altar, and there remaineth no substance in the same, but only the substance of bread and wine. " For these the articles of our belief we being condemned to die, do willingly offer our corruptible bodies to be dissolved in the fire, all with one voice assenting and consenting thereunto, and in no point dissenting or disagreeing from any of our former articles." Early in the morning of the 28th of June, 1556, being the day ap- pointed for their execution, thej' were conducted from Newgate to Stratford-le-Bow, the place allot- ted for them to confirm that faith they had professed, and to which they had so strenuously adhered. On their arrival at the destined place, the sheriff made use of a stratagem to bring them over to the Romish faith. He divided them into two companies, and placed them in separate apart- ments. This done, he visited one company, and told them the other liad recanted, by which their lives would be saved; and exhorted them to follow their example, and not cast themselves away by their own mere obstinacy. But this scheme failed in its ef- fect ; for they told the sheriff, that their faith was not built on man, but on Christ crucified. The sheriff, finding his project fail with the first party to whom he applied, had recourse to the same means with the others, ad- monishing them to recant like wise men, and not be guilty of destroy- ing themselves by their own bigotry and prejudice. But they answered to the same effect as their brethren had done before, assuring the sheriff, that their faith was not built on man, but on Christ, and his infallible word. They were then brought from their different apartments, and all led together to the place of execu- tion, where they embraced each other, and, after praying in the most fervent manner, prepared themselves for their fate. These thirteen steadfast believ- ers in Christ were chained to dif- ferent stakes, but all burnt toge- ther in one fire, shewing such love to each other, and firm faith in thei,- Saviour and Redeemer Jesus Christ, that the concourse of spec- tators assembled on the occasion, were astonished at the undaunted behaviour of so many poor inno- cents, who thus patiently endured the acutest torments, rather than comply with the errors and super- stitions of the church of Rome. MARTYRDOMS OF ROBERT BERNARD, ADAM FOSTER, AND ROBERT LAW- SON. The first of these martyrs was a poor labourer, and lived in the pa- rish of Frasden, in the county of Suffolk. Being apprehended by the constable of the parish for not going to church, he was brought before Dr. Hopton, bishop of Nor- wich, who inquired of him whether he had been with a priest at Easter to confess, or whether he had received the sacrament of the al- tar. To these questions Bernard frankly replied, "No, I have not been with the priest, nor confessed myself unto him: but I have con- fessed my sins unto Almighty God, and I trust he hath forgiven me ; wherefore I need not go to the priest for such matters, as he can- not forgive his own sins." The bishop, after using various arguments to induce him to go to confession, without effect, pro- nounced him an heretic; on which 672 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Bernard said, " My lord, it griev- eth me not one whit to be called an heretic by you, for so your fore- fathers called the prophets and apostles of Christ, long before this time." Incensed at this bold reply, the bishop arose, and bid Bernard fol- low him. He then went to the sa- crament of the altar, to which he kneeled and prayed, and severely reproved Bernard for not doing tlie same: but our martyr told him, he found no authority for such beha- viour in the word of God. The bishop then addressing him, pointed to the pix over the altar, in which the wafer, or host, is kept, and said, "Why, lewd fellow, ■whom seest thou yonder?"— " No- body, my lord," replied Bernard. — " Seest thou not thy maker, var- let?" demanded the prelate.— " My maker!" returned the coun- tryman; "no; I see nothing but a few clouts hanging together in a heap." This answer so irritated the bi- shop, that he commanded the gaoler to "take him away, and lay irons enough on him," declar- ing he would reduce him to sub- jection, befoie he had done with him The next day he was again brought before the bishop, who asked him if he retained the same opinions as he professed yester- day. To which Bernard rephed, " Yes, my lord, I remember my- self well, for I am the same man to-day that I was yesterday, and hope I shall remain steadfast to the end of my life in the principles I have professed." One of his lordship's attendants being desirous of examining Ber- nard himself, advised the bishop not to give himself any farther trouble, but to commit his exami- nation to him. Having obtained his request, he took Bernard to an inn, where several popish emissa- ries were assembled. They first used many fair words, and alluring promises, to persuade him to ab- jure what they called his heretical opinions. This, however, not tak- ing effect, they threatened him with whipping, the stocks, and burning; but all to no purpose. He told them, "Friends, I am not better than my master Christ, and the prophets, whom your forefa- thers served after this sort; and T, for his sake, am content to sufier the like at your hands, if God should so permit, trusting that he will strengthen me in the same, according to his promise, and tliat of all his ministers." After this declaration they took him back to the bishop, who, ac- cording to the usual form of pro- ceeding in the court, condemned him as an heretic, and he was de- livered over to the secular power. Adam Foster lived i" the parish of Mendlesham, in the county of Suffolk. He was apprehended in his own house by two constables, at the command of a neighbouring justice, for absenting himself from mass, and not receiving the sacra- ment at Easter. Being taken be- fore the bishop of Norwich, he examined him concerning his reli- gious principles, and finding him steadfast in his faith, according to the doctrines set forth in the days of king Edward VI. he condemned him as an heretic, and he was de- livered to the secular power, to be proceeded against according to law. Robert Lawson, by trade a li- nen-draper, was apprehended on the same account as the two for- mer; and being brought before sir John Tyrrel, he committed him to the prison of Eye, in Sufl'olk. After lying there a short time, he was, conducted to the bishop of Norwich for examination, when, holding fast to the principles he had professed, and withstanding every effort made use of by the bi- shop to bring him to recant, he was pronounced an obstinate here- tic, received sentence of death, and was delivered into the hands of the sheriff, in order for execu- tioui On the 30th of June, 1556, these 3 JOHN FORTUNE. 573 three soldiers of Clirist were con- ducted to Uury St. Edmund's, in SuHolk, where, beinp; all fastened to one stake, they died in full as- surance of happiness hereafter, givinj^ glory to tliat God who had enabled them to undergo their suf- ferings for his name's sake. JOHN FORTUNE. About the same time that these three suflered, there was one John Fortune, a blacksmith, of the pa- rish of Mendlesham, in Suffolk, who was several times examined by the bishop of Norwich, and others, respecdng the mass, the sacrament of the altar, and other points of the Romish religion, which he refuted by texts quoted from Scripture. His sentence of condemnation is recorded in the bishop's register ; but whether it was ever carried into execution we are not in- formed; if not burnt, however, he most probably died in prison, as the un'/'lenting persecutors very seldom allowed their victims to escape. The following account of his ex- aminations was written by him- self. HIS FIRST EXAMINATION BEFORE DR. PARKER AND MR. FOSTER. First, Dr. Parker asked me how I believed in the Catholic faith. And I asked him which faith he meant; whether the faith that Stephen had, or the faith of them that put Stephen to death. Dr. Parker, being moved, said. What an impudent fellow is this! You shall soon see anon, he will deny the blessed sacrament of the altar. Then said Mr. Foster, I -know you well enough. You are a busy merchant. How sayest thou by the blessed mass? And I stood still and made no answer. Then said Foster, Why speakest thou not, and makest the gentle- man an answer? And I said, Silence is a good answer to a foolish question. Then said Dr. Parker, I am sure he will deny the blessed sa- crament of the altar also. And I answered, I know none such, but only the sacrament of the body and blood of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Then said Dr. Parker, You deny the order of the seven sacraments. And why dost not thou believe in the sacrament of the altar? And I answered, Because it is Hot written in God's book. Then, said he, you will not be- lieve unwritten verities ? And I answered, I will believe those unwritten verities that agree with the written verities, to be trne: but those unwritten veri- ties that are of your own making, and inventions of your own brain, I do not believe. Well, said Mr. Foster, you shall be whipped and burned for this gear. Then answered I, If you knew how these words do rejoice my heart, you would not have spoken them. Then said Mr. Foster, Away, thou fool, dost thou rejoice in whip- ping? Yes, answered I, for it is written in the Scriptures, and Christ saith. Thou shalt be whipped for my name's sake : and since the sword of tyranny came into your hands, I heard of none that were whipped. Happy were I, if I were the first to sutler this persecution. Away with him then, said he, for he is ten times worse than Samuel: and so I was carried to prison again. HIS SJffCOND EXAMINATION, BEFORE THr. BISHOP OF NORWICH. When I came before the bishop, he asked me if I did not believe in the Catholic chu^'ch. I answered, I believe that church whereof Christ is the head. Then said the bishop, Dost thou not believe that the pope is supreme head of the church? And I answered, No; Christ is the head of the true church. Bishop. So do I believe also ; but the pope is God's vicar upon 674 BOOK OF MARTYRS. earth, and the head of the church, and I believe that he hath power to forgive sins also. Fortune. The pope is but a man, and the prophet David saith, " That no man can deliver his bro- ther, nor make agreement unto God for him ;" for it cost more to redeem their souls, so that he must let that alone for ever. And the bishop again fetching about a great circumstance, said, Like as the bell-weather weareth the bell, and is the head of the flock of sheep ; so is the pope our head. And as the hives of bees have a master-bee that bringeth the bees to the hive again; so doth our h«ad bring us home again to our true church. Then I asked him, whether the pope were a spiritual man. And he said. Yea. And I said again, They are spiteful men; for in se- venteen months there were three popes, and one poisoned another for that presumptuous seat of Anti- christ. Bishop. It is maliciously spoken, for thou must obey the power, and not the man. Well, what sayest thou to the ceremonies of the church? And I answered, '' All things that are not planted by my hea- venly Father, shall be plucked up by the roots," saith our Saviour: for they are not from the begin- ning, neither shall they continue to the end. Bishop. They are good and godly, and necessary to be used. Fortune. St. Paul called them weak and beggarly. Bishop. No; that is a lie. I, hearing that, said, that St. Paul writeth thus in the fourth chapter to the Galatiaus, " You foolish Galatians (saith he), who hath bewitched you, that ye seek to be in bondage to these weak and beggarly ceremonies ?" Now which of you doth lie, you, or St. Paul? And also it is said, That works instituted, and enjoined without the commandment of God, pertain not to the worship of God, according to the text. Matt. xv. " In vain do men worship me with men's traditions and command- ments." And St. Paul, " Where- fore do ye carry us away from the grace of Christ to another kind of doctrine?" And Christ openly re- buked the scribes, lawyers, phari- sees, doctors, priests, bishops, and other hypocrites, for making God's commandments of none effect, to support their own tradition. Bishop. Thou liest, there is not such a word in all the scriptures, thou impudent heretic*. Thou art worse than all other heretics; for Hooper and Bradford allow them to be good, and thou dost not. Away with him. HIS THIRD EXAMINATION. The next day I was brought be- fore the said bishop again, where he preached a sermon upon the sixth chapter of St. John's gospel, from Christ's words, " I am the bread that came down from hea- ven," &c. And theieupon had a great bibble babble to no purpose. So in the end I was called before him, and he said to me : Bishop. How believest thou in the sacrament of the altar? Dost thou not believe, that after the consecration, there is the real substance of the body of Christ? Fort7ine. That is the greatest plague that ever came into Eng- land. Bishop. Why so? Fortune. If I were a bishop, and you a poor man as I am, I would be ashamed to ask such a question : for a bishop should be apt to teach, and not to learn. Bishop. I am appointed by the law to teach ; you are not. Fortune. Your law breaketh out very well : for you have burn- ed up the true bishops and preach- ers, and maintained liars in their stead. * If this worthy prelate had been as conversant with the Scriptures as he ought to have been, he would have known that " a bishop must be blameless, not self-willed, not soon angry;" and he would have found that he has other, and very ditferent, duties than persecuting and reviling the advocates ot the Gospel. JOHN FORTUNE. 575 Bishop. Now you may under- stand that he is a traitor; for he denieth the higher powers. Fortune. I am no traitor: for St. Paul saith, "All souls must obey the higher powers," and I resist not the higher powers con- cerning my body, but I must resist your evil doctrine wherewith you would infect my soul. Then said a doctor, My Lord, you do not well : let him answer shortly to his articles. Bishop. How sayest thou ? make an answer quickly to these articles. Fortune. St. Paul saith, Heb. X. " Christ did one sacrifice once for all, and sat him down at the right hand of his Father," triumph- ing over hell and death, making intercession for sins. Bishop. I ask thee no such question, but make answer to this article. Fortune. If it be not God be- fore the consecration, it is not God after ; for God is without begin- ning and without ending. Bishop. Lo, what a stiff heretic this is ! He hath denied all to- gether I How sayest thou ? Is it idolatry to worship the blessed sa- crament or no? Fortune. God is a Spirit, and will be worshipped in spirit and truth. Bishop. I ask thee no such question : answer me directly. Fortune. I answer, that this is the God Mauzzim, that robbeth God of his honour. Bishop. It is pity that the ground beareth thee, or that thou hast a tongue to speak. Then said the scribe, Here are a great many articles. Then said the bishop, Away with him ! for he hath spoken too much. HIS LAST EXAMINATION. When I came to mine examina- tion again, the bishop asked me if I would stand upon mine an- swers that I made before : and I said, Yea; for I had spoken no- thing but the truth. And after that he made a great circumstance upon the sacrament. Thenfl desired him to stand to the text, and he read the gospel on Corpus Christi day, which said, *' I am the bread which came down from heaven :" believest thou not this ? and I said. Yea, truly. And he said, Why dost thou deny the sacrament 1 Because your doctrine is false, said I. Then said he. How can that be false which is spoken in the scrip- ture ? And I answered, Christ said, " I am the bread ;" and you say the bread is he. Therefore your doctrine is false. And he said, Dost thou not be- lieve that the bread is he ? I an- swered. No. Bishop. I will bring thee to it by the scriptures. Fortune. Hold that fast, my lord : for that is the best argument that you have had yet. Bishop. Thou shalt be burned like an heretic. Fortune. Who shall give judg- ment upon me ? Bishop. I will judge an hundred such as thou art, and never be shriven upon it. Fortune. Is there not law for the spirituality, as well as for the temporality ? And sir Clement Higham said. Yes ; what meanest thou by that ? Forttme. When a man is per- jured by the law, he is cast over the bar, and sitteth no more in judgment. And the bishop is a perjured man, and ought not to sit in judgment. Bishop. How provest thou that? Fortune, Because you took an oath in king Henry's days to resist the pope. So both spiritual and temporal are perjured, that here can be no true judgment. Bishop. Thinkest thou to escape judgment by that ? No : for my chancellor shall judge thee. He took no oath, for he was tlien out oftlie realm. 576 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Sir C, Higham. It is time to weed out such fellows as jou are, indeed. Bishop. Good fellow, why be- lievest thou not in the sacrament of the altar? Fortune. Because I find it not in God's book, nor yet in the doc- tors. If it were there, I would be- lieve it with all my heart. Bishop. How knowest thou it is not there ? Fortune. Because it is contrary to the second commandment ; and seeing it is not written in God's book, why do you then rob me of my life ? Then the bishop having no more to say, commanded the bailiff to take him away ; and after this we find no further mention of him in the register of Norwich, except that his sentence of condemnation was drawn and registered, but whether it were pronounced or not is uncertain. SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF JOHN CARELESS, IN THE KINg's BENCH. About the first of July, 1556, John Careless, of Coventry, wea- ver, died in the King's Bench pri- son : who though he were by the secret judgment of Almighty God prevented by death, so that he came not to the full martyrdom of his body, yet is he no less worthy to be counted in honour and place of Christ's martyrs, than others that suffered most cruel torments ; as well because he was for the same truth's sake a long time im- prisoned, as also for his willing mind and the zealous affection he had thereunto, if the Lord had so determined it, as may well appear by his examination before Dr. Martin, of which examination we shall give some particulars, omit- ting those parts, in which the scurrility of the popish priest is, as usual, much more observable than the strength of his reasoning. First, Dr. Martin calling John Careless to him in his chamber, demanded what was his name ? To whom when the other had an- swered, that his name was JoliiT Careless, then began Dr. Martin to descant at his pleasure upon that name, saying, that it would appear by his condition, by that time he had done with him, that he would be a true careless man indeed. And so after a deal of unnecessary talk there spent about much needless matter, then he asked him where he was born. Forsooth, said Careless, at Co- ventry. Martin. At Coventry? What, so far, man? How camest thou hither? Who sent thee to the King's bench prison? Careless. I was brought hither by a writ, I think; what it was I cannot tell. I suppose master Marshal can tell you. Marshal. In good faith I can- not tell what the matter is ; but in- deed my lord chief justice sent him from the bar. Mai'tin. Well, Careless, I would thou shouldst play the wise man's part. Thou art a handsome man, and it is a pity but thou shouldst do well, and save that which God hath brought. Careless. I thank your good mastership most heartily : and I put you out of doubt, that I am most sure arid certain of my sal- vation by Jesus Christ ; so that my soul is safe already, whatso- ever pains my body suQer here for a little time. Martin. Yea marry, you say truth. For thou art so predesti- nate to life, that thou canst not perish in whatsoever opinion thou dost die. Careless. That God hath predes- tinated me to eternal life in Jesus Christ, I am most certain, and even so am I sure that his Holy Spirit (wherewith I am sealed) will pre- serve me from all heresies and evil opinions, that I shall die in none at all. Martin. Go to, let me hear thy faith in predestination. For that shall be written also. Careless. Your mastership shall pardon me herein. For you said JOHN CARELESS. 577 yourself ere now, tLat you had no commission to examine my con- science. I will trouble myself with answering no more matters than I needs must, until I come before them that shall have more authority further to examine me. Martin. I tell thee then I have a commission and commandment from the council to examine thee: for they delivered me thy articles. Careless. Yea, I think indeed that your mastership is appointed to examine me of my articles, which you have there in writing, and T have told you the truth. I do confess them to be mine own fact and deed: but you do now examine me of predestination, whereof my articles speak nothing at all. Martin. I tell thee yet again, that 1 must also examine thee of such things as be in controversy between thee and thy follows in tiie King's-bench, whereof pre- destination is a part, as thy fel- low N hath confessed, and thyself dost not deny it. Burning of Dr. Barnes, the Rev. W. Jerome, and the Rev. T. Garret, in Sniithfield, June 30, 1541. Careless. I do not deny it. But he that first told you that, might have found himself much better occupied. Martin. "Why, what if he had not told me, thinkest thou that I would not have known it? Yes, or else thou shouldst have withstood my commission. For I tell thee the truth, I may now examine thee of the blessed sacrament, or any FOX'S MARTYRS. other thing that T like, hut that I will shew thee favour, and not be too hasty with thee at the first. Marshal. Yea indeed, Careless, Mr. Doctor hath a commission to examine you or any other of your fellows. Martin. Yea, marry, that I have, I tell thee the truth of it. Careless. Then let your scribe set his pen to the paper, and you 87 578 BOOK OF MARTYRS. shall have it roundly, even as the truth is. I believe that Almighty God, our most dear loving Father, of his great mercy and infinite goodness, did elect in Christ. Martin. Tush ! what need of all that long circumstance ? Write, I believe God elected; and make no more ado. Careless. No, not so, Mr. Doc- tor : it is a high mystery, and ought reverently to be spoken of. And if my words may not be writ- ten as I do utter them, I will not speak at all. Martin. Go to, go to, write what he will. Here is more busi- ness than needeth. Careless. I believe that Almighty God, our most dear and loving Father, of his great mercy and in- finite goodness (through Jesus Christ), did elect and appoint in him, before the foundation of the earth was laid, a church or con- gregation, which he doth continu- ally guide and govern by his grace and Holy Spirit, so that not one of them shall ever finally perish. When this was written, Mr. Doctor took it in his hand, and read it, saying ; Why, who will deny this? Careless. If your mastership do allow this, and other learned men when they shall see it, I have my heart's desire. Martin. And do you hold no otherwise than is here written ? Careless. No verily, nor. never did. Martin. Write what he saith. Otherwise he holdeth not. So that was written. Martin. It was told me also, that thou dost affirm. That Christ did not die effectually for all men. Careless. Whatsoever hath been told you, it is not much material unto me. Let the tellers of such tales come before my face, and I trust to make them answer. For indeed I do believe that Christ did effectually die for all those that do efl'ectually repent and be- lieve, and for no other. So that was written also. Blartin. Now, sir, what is Trew's faith of predestination? He believeth that all men are pre- destinate, and that none shall be damned, doth he not? Careless. No forsooth, that he doth not. Martin. How then? Careless. Truly I think he doth believe as your mastership and the rest of the clergy do believe of predestination, that we are elected in respect of our good works, and so long elected as we do them, and no longer. Martin. Write what he saith, That his fellow Trew believeth of predestixiation as the papists do believe. Careless. Ah, master Doctor, did I so term you? Seeing that this ray confession shall come be- fore the council, I pray you place my terms as reverently as I speak them. Martin. Well, well, write that Trew is of the same faith as the Catholics be. Careless. I did not so call you neither ; I wonder what you mean. Martin. You said the clergy, did you not? Careless. Yes, forsooth did T. So then it was written " of the clergy." Martin. Now, sir, what say you more? Careless. Forsooth I have no further to say in this matter. Martin. Well, Careless, I pray thee prove thyself a wise man, and do not cast away thy life wil- fully. Careless. Now the Lord he knoweth, good Mr. Doctor, I would full gladly live, so that I might do the same with a safe conscience. And your mastership shall right well perceive that I will be no wilful man, but in all things that I stand upon I will have sure ground. Martin. Now the Lord know- eth, good Careless, that I would gladly make some means to pre- serve thy life. But thou speakest so much of the Lord, the Lord ! JOHN CARELESS. )79 Wilt thou be content to go with my lord Fitzwater into Ireland? Methinks thou art a handsome fellow, and would do the queen a service tliere. What sayest thou? Careless. Verily, Mr. Doctor, whether I be in Ireland, France, or Spain, or any place else, I am ready to do her grace the best service that I can, with body, goods, and life, so long as it doth last. Martin. That is honestly said ; I promise thee every man will not say so. How say you, Mr. Mar- shal ? This man is meet for all manner of service. Indeed thou art worthy, Careless, to have the more favour. Careless. Indeed, sir, I hope to be meet and reardy unto all things that pertain unto a true Christian subject to do. And if her grace or her officers under her do require of me to do any thing contrary to Christ's religion, I am ready also to do my service in Smithfield for not observing it, as my bed- fellow and other worthy brethren have done, praised be God for them. Martin. By my troth thou art as pleasant a fellow as ever I talk- ed with, of all the protestants, ex- cept it were Tomson. I am sorry that I must depart from thee so soon ; but I have such business now, that I can tarry with thee no longer. Well, yet thou canst not deny, but you are at variance among yourselves in the King's- bench, and it is so throughout all your congregation: for you will not be at church. Careless. No, master Doctor, that is not so. There is a thou- sand times more variety in opinions among your doctors, which you call of the Catholic church, yea, and that in the sacrament, for which there is so much blood shed now-a-days, I mean of your latter doctors and new writers ; as for the old, they agree wholly with us. Martin. No, Careless, this is not so ; there thou art deecived. Careless. Verily it is so, master Doctor; I am not deceived there- in any thing at all, as it hath been, and is, evidently proved by such as God hath endued with great learning. Then he turned to the marshal, and whispered with him a while. Turning to me again, lie said. Farewell, Careless ; for I can tarry no longer with thee now, my busi- ness is such. Careless. God be with you, my good master Doctor, the Lord give your mastership health of body and soul. Martin. God have mercy, good Careless, and God keep thee from all errors, and give thee grace to do as well as I would wish my- self. Careless. I thank your good mastership : I pray God I may do always that which is acceptable in his sight. Whereunto they all said Amen. And so I departed with a glad heart ; God only have the whole praise, Amen. It appears that Careless had suf- fered two years imprisonment at Co- ventry, which much distressed his wife and children, who depended on him for support. After that, being brought to London, he was endued with such patience and constant fortitude, that he longed for nothing more earnestly, than to die in the fire for the profession of his faith : but it pleasing God to prevent him by death in the prison, he was bu- ried under a dunghill in the fields, by order of the persecutors. While he was prisoner in the King's-bench, he was much trou- bled in conscience, whereupon he wrote to Mr. Philpot, then in bi- shop Bonner's coal-house; upon which Mr. Philpot sent him an epistle of consolation, and Care- less returned the following an- swer. A faithful friend is n strong defence ; whoso findeth such a one, findeth a treasure. A faithful friend bath no peer ; the weight of gold and silver is not to be com- pared to the goodness of his faith. 5m BOOK OF MARTYRS. A faithful friend is a medicine of life, and tliey that fear the Lord shall find him, Eccles. vi. The Father of mercy and God of all consolation, comfort you with his eternal Spirit, my most dear and faithful loving friend, good Mr. Philpot, as you have comforted rae by the mighty opera- tion of the same ; the everlasting God therefore be praised for ever, Amen. Ah, my dear heart, and most loving brother, if I should do no- thing else day and night, so long as the days of heaven do endure, but kneel on my knees, and read psalms, I can never be able to render unto God sufficieut thanks, for his great mercy, fatherly kind- ness, and most loving compassion extended unto me most vile, sinful, wicked, and unworthy wretch. O that the Lord would open my mouth, and give me a thankful heart, that from the bottom of the same might flow his continual praise, O that my sinful flesh (which is the cause of sorrow) were clean separated from me, that I might sing psalms of thanks- giving unto the Lord's name for ever ; that with good Samuel's mother, I might continually re- cord this noble Terse following, which by the good experience I have found most true, praised be my God therefore. "The Lord (saith that good wo- man) killeth and maketh alive ; he bringeth down to hell, and fetch- eth up again. Praised be the Lord for ever, yea, and praised be his name for that he hath given me true experience and lively feeling of the same. Blessed be the Lord God, whose mercy en- dureth for ever, which hath not dealt with me according to my de- serts, nor destroyed me in his dis- pleasure when I had justly deserved it. Oh, what reward shall I give again unto the Lord for all the great benefits that he hath done for my soul ! I will gladly receive the cup of salvation at his hand, and will worship his name with prayer and with praise." Ah, my dear heart, yea most dear to me in the Lord, think not this sudden change in me to be some fickle fantasy of my foolish head, (as indeed some others would surely suspect it to be) for doubt- less it is the marvellous doing of the Lord, most merciful unto me his unworthy creature. God, for his great mercy's sake, give me grace to be more thankful unto him than I heretofore have been, and keep me that 1 never fall from his favour again. And now, my dear brother, and most blessed messenger of the Lord, whose beautiful feet have brought many glad tidings to my soul, what shall I do or say unto you, in the least part to recom- pense the fatherly affection and godly care that you continually keep for me ? O that God would give me the spirit of fervent prayer, that I might yet that way supply some little part of my duty toward you. Ah, my true loving friend, how soon did you lay aside all other business, to make a sweet plaster for my wounded con- science, yea, and that out of a painful pair of stocks, which place must needs be uneasy to write in ; but God hath brought you into a straight place, that you might set my soul at liberty. Out of your pinching and painful seat, you have plentifully poured upon me your precious ointment, the sweet savour whereof hath greatly re- freshed my tired soul. The Lord likewise refresh you, both body and soul, by pouring the oil of his gracious Spirit in your sweet heart. Ah, good Jeremy, hath Phassor put thee into the stocks ? why, now thou hast the reward of a pro- phet. Thy glory never began to appear untU now. I doubt not but shortly, instead of Ahikam, the son of Shapham, Jesus the Son of the living God will come and deliver thee forth of the hands of all thine antichristian synagogue, all the words that thou hast spoken in his name. The Lord hath made thee this day a strong defenced JOHN CARELESS. £81 toTrcr, an iron pillar, and a brazen wall ao:ainst the whole rabble of Antichrist: and though they fight agains't thee ever so fiercely, yet shall they not overcome thee, for the Lord himself is with thee to lielp and deliver thee : and he will rid thee out of the hands of the wicked, and will deliver thee out of the hands of the tyrants. And in that you are not busy in casting pearls before swine, nor in giving the holy things unto dogs, you are much to be commended, in my simple judgment. And sure I am, that your circumspect and modest behaviour hitherto hath been as much to God's glory, and to the shame and confusion of your ene- mies, as any men's doings that are gone before you. Wherefore my advice and most earnest desire is, with all other of your loving friends, that you still keep that order with those blood- thirsty sheep-biters, bishops I should say, that you have begun. For though in conclusion they will surely have your blood, yet shall they come by it with shame enough, and to their perpetual in- famy whilst the world doth endure. The} would indeed condemn you in private, to darken God's glory, if it might be: but Satan's thoughts are not vmknown to you, and the depth of his subtlety is by you well foreseen. Therefore let them do whatsoever God shall suf- fer them to do: for I know all things shall turn to your benefit. Though you lie in the dark, sul- lied with the bishop's black coal- dust; yet shall you be shortly re- stored to the heavenly light, and be made as white as snow in Sal- mon, as the wings of a dove that is covered with silver wings, and her feathers like gold. You know the vessel, before it is made bright, is soiled with oil and other things, that it may scour the better. O happy be you that you be now in the scouring-house ; for shortly you shall be set upon the celestial shelf as bright as angels. There- fore, my dear heart, I will now, according to your loving request, cast away all care, and rejoice with you, and praise God for you, and pray for you, day and night; yea, I will now, with God's grace, sing psalms of praise and thanks- giving with you. For now my soul is turned to her old rest again, and hath taken a sweet nap in Christ's lap. I have cast my care upon the Lord, who careth for me, and will be careless, according to my name, in that respect you would have me. I will leave out my un- seemly addition as long as I live: for it can take no place where true faith and hope are resident. So soon as I had read your m6st godly and co^ifortable letter, my sorrows vanished away, as smoke in the wind, my spirit revived, and com- fort came again, whereby I am sure the Spirit of God was the au- thor of it. O my good Mr. Phil pot, which art a principal pot* indeed, filled with most precious liquor, as it ap- pearcth by the plenteous pouring forth of the same: O pot most ^sppy^ of the high Potter ordained to honour, which dost contain such heavenly treasure in the earthen vessel : O pot thrice happy, in whom Christ hath wrought a great miracle, altering thy nature, and turning water into wine, and that of the best, whereout the master of the feast hath filled my cup so full, that I am become drunken in the joy of the Spirit through the same. When martyrdom shall break thee, O vessel of honour, I know the fragrant savour of thy precious ointment will much rejoice the heavy hearts of Christ's true mem- bers, although the Judases will grudge and murmur at the same; * The metaphorical language, and far-fetched conceits, with which this let- ter (as well as many other productiona of that age) is filled, althoiign unpleas- ing, and sometimes almost ridiculous, to the more relined taste of modern readers, were then admired, as ornamental to the style, and illustrative of the subject, alike of the preacher, the poet, and the historian. 582 BOOK OF MARTYRS. yea, ami burst out into words of slander, saying-, It is but loss and waste. Be not offended, dear heart, at my metaphorical speech ; for I am disposed to be merry, and with David to dance before the ark of the Lord: and though you play upon a pair of organs not very comely or easy to the flesh, yet the sweet sound that comes from the same, causeth me thus to do, O that I were with you in body, as present I am in spirit, that I might sing all care away in Christ: for now the time of comfort is come. I hope to be with you shortly, if all things happen right; for my old friends of Coventry have put the council in remembrance of me, not six days ago, saying, I am more worthy to be burned than any that was burned yet. God's blessing on their hearts for their good re- port. God make me worthy of that dignity, and hasten the time that 1 may set forth his glory. Pray for me, dear heart, I be- seech you, and desire all your company to do the same, and I will pray God for you all, so long as I live. And now farewell in Christ, thou blessed of God's own mouth. I will for a time take my leave, but not my last farewell. Blessed be the time that ever I came into the King's Bench, to be joined in love and fellowship with such dear children of the Lord. My good brother Bradford shall not be dead while you are alive : for verily the spirit of him doth rest on you in a most ample man- ner. Your letters of comfort unto me in each point do agree, as though the one were a copy of the other. He hath planted in me> and you do water, the Lord give good increase. My dear brethren and fellow prisoners here, have them humbly and heartily corn- mendefl unto you and your com- pany, mourning for your misery, but yet rejoicing for your plen- teous consolation and comfort in Christ. We are all cheerful and tiieiry under our cross, and do lack no necessaries, praised be God for his providence and great mercy to- wards us for evermore, Ameil. Mr. Careless wrote many other letters v/hiie in prison, of which the following is TO HIS WIFE. As by the great mercy of God, at the time of his good will and providence appointed, my dearly beloved wife, you and I were joined together in the holy and Christian state of godly matrimony, as well to our great joy and com- fort in Christ, as also to the in- crease of his blessed church and faithful congregation, by having lawful children by and in the same, with which God of his mercy hath blessed us, praised be his name therefore: even so now, by his merciful will and divine ordi- nance, the time is come (so far as I can perceive) wherein he will, for his glory and our eternal comfort, dis- solve the same, and separate us asunder again for a time. Where- fore I thought it good, yea, and my bounden duty, by this simple letter to provoke, stir, and admo- nish you, to behave yourself in all your doings, sayings, and thoughts, most thankfully unto our good God for the same. And, therefore, ray dear wife, as you have heartily rejoiced in the Lord, and often- times given God thanks for his goodness, in bringing us together in his holy ordinance ; even so now 1 desire you, when this time of our separation shall come, to rejoice with me in the Lord, and to give him most hearty thanks, that he hath (to his glory and our endless advantage) separated us again for a little time, and hath mercifully taken me unto himself, out of this miserable world into his celestial kingdom; believing and hoping also assuredly, that God of his goodness, for his Son Christ's sake, will shortly bring you, and your dear children, thither to me, that we may most joyfully together sing praises unto his glorious name for ever. JOHN CARELESS. 583- And yet once attain I desire jou, for the love of God, and as ever you loved rae, to rejoice with me, and to give God continual thanks for doiu^ his most merciful will upon me. I hear say, that you do often- times repeat this godly saying, " The Lord's will be fulfiUed." Doubtless it rejoiceth my poor heart to hear that report of you; and, for the Lord's sake, use that godly prayer continually: teach your children and family to say the same, day and night; and not only say it with your tongues, but also with your heart and mind, and joyfully submit your will to God's will in very deed, knowing and be- lieving assuredly, that nothing shall come to you, or any of your's, otherwise than it shall be 'his Al- mighty and fatherly good-will and pleasure, and for your eternal comfort and advantage. Which thing to be most true and certain, Christ testifieth in his holy gospel, saying, "Are not two little sparrows sold for a farthing? and yet not one of them shall perish without the will of our heavenly Father." And he concludeth, saying, " Fear not ye, therefore, for ye are better than many sparrows." As though he should have said, If God have such respect and care for a poor sparrow, which is not worth one farthing, that it shall not be taken in the liaie-twig, net, or pitfa!, un- less it be his good will and plea- sure ; you may be well assured, that not one of you (whom he so dearly loveth, that he hath given his only Son for you) shall perish, or depart out of this miserable life, without his Almighty good will and pleasure. Therefore, dear wife, put your trust and confidence wholly and only in him, and ever pray that his will be fulfilled, and not your's, except it be agreeable to his v.ill; which I pray God it may ever be, Amen. And as for worldly things, take you no care, but be you well assured the Lord, your dear God and Father, will not see you nor your's lack, if you continue in his love and childly fear, and keep a clear conscience from all kind of idolatry, superstition, and wicked- ness, as my trust is that you will do, although it be with the loss and danger of this temporal life. And, good Margaret, fear not them that can but kill the body (and yet can they not do that until God give them leave), but fear to dis- please Him that can kill both body and soul, and cast them into hell- fire. Let not the remembrance of your children keep you "from God. The Lord himself will be a father and a mother, better than ever you or 1 could have been unto them. He himself will do all things neces- sary for them. He hath given his angels charge over them ; therefore commit them unto hira. But if you may live with a clear con- science, (or else I would not have you to live), and see the bringing up of your children yourself, look that you nurture them in the fear of God, and keep them far from idolatry, superstition, and other kind of wickedness ; and, for God's sake, help tliem to some learn- ing, if it be possible, that they may increase in virtue and godly know- ledge, which shall be a better dowry to marry them withal, than any worldly substance; and when they come to age, provide them such husbands as fear God, and love his holy word. I charge you take heed that you match them not with papists; and if you live, [and marry again yourself, (which thing I would wish you to do if need re- quire, or else not), good wife, take heed how you bestow yourself, that you and my poor children be not compelled to wickedness. But if you shall be well able to live God's true widow, I would counsel you to live so still, for the more quiet- ness of yourself and your poor children. Take heed, Margaret, and play the wise woman's part. You have warning by others, if you will take an example. And thus I commit yon and my sweet children unto God's most merciful defence. The blessing of God be with you, and God send ws a merry 584 BOOK OF MARTYRS. meeting togetber iu heaven. Fare- well in Christ, farewell mine own dear hearts all. Pray, pray. PERSECUTIONS AND SUFFERINGS OF JULIUS PALMER, FELLOW OF MAGDALEN COLLEGE, OXFORD; JOHN GWIN, AND THOMAS AS- KINE, WHO SUFFERED MARTYR- DOM, AT NEWBURY, IN BERK- SHIRE. Julius Palmer was the son of a reputable merchant, and born iu the city of Coventry. He received his first education at the free- school of that place; after which he was sent to Oxford, where, in process of time, he obtained a fel- lowship in Magdalen college, in that university. As he was brought up a zealous papist, he refused to conform to the service of the church, as prac- tised in th« time of king Edward VI.; for which he was expelled the college, and for some time kept a school iu the city of Ox- ford. On the accession of queen Mary, the visitors went to Magdalen col- lege, to displace such t\s refused to be of the popish religion. Mr. Palmer availed himself of this op- portunity, and, by close applica- tion himself, joined to the interest of his friends, was reinstated in his fellowship. During the time of his expulsion from the college, he used frequently to converse with some of his ac- quaintance who were protestants; s^d being by them advised to study tite Scriptures, he began to enter- tain doubts concerning the truth of several Romish doctrines, and would often ask questions on that subject. His sincere attachment to the prin- ciples he professed (though opposite in their nature at difl'erent periods), was the cause of his expulsion in the days of king Edward VI., and of his troubles in the reign of queen Mary; for, had he been a dissem- bler, he might have retained his fellowship under the reign of the former, and escaped death under that of the latter. When the persecution raged in the beginning of the reign of Mary, he inquired, very particularly, into the cause of persons being appre- hended, the nature of the articles upon which they were condemned, the manner of their treatment, and their behaviour at the time of their suflering. Nay, so desirous was he of knowing this, that he sent one of his pupils from Oxford to Gloucester, to see the whole form of bishop Hooper's execution, and bring him a minute account of the bloody transaction. Before he had imbibed well- grounded notions of the gospel of Christ, and the pure incorruptible worship of God, he was inclined to think that very few would undergo the fiery trial for the sake of their profession ; but, when experience proved to him the cruelties which the papists inflicted, and the pro^ testants endured; when he had been present at the examination of bishops Ridley and Latimer, and had been an eye-witness of their faith, patience, and fortitude, even unto death, these scenes converted him absolutely from popery; and on his return from the execution, he was heard to utter these ex- pressions, "O raging cruelty! O barbarous tyranny !'' From that very day he applied himself most assiduously to learn the truth of God's word: and, to that end, borrowed Peter Martyr's Commentary on the Corinthians, and read many other well-written treatises on religion, till, at length, he became as zealous an assertor of the protestant cause, as he be- fore had been an obstinate opposer of it. He now began to absent himself from mass, and other popish ser- vices and ceremonies; but finding that his absence on these occasions incurred the suspicions of many, and the disapprobation of the pre- sident of the college, to avoid ex- pulsion, which might be attended with danger, and to preserve his conscience inviolate, he resigned his fellowship. On his leaving the college, his JULIUS. PALMER. 585 Wends procured Uim the place of teacher to the grammar-school at Reading, in Berkshire, where he was received by those who loved tiie gospel of Christ, both on ac- count of his eminent learning, and zealous adherence to the truth. In process of time, some hypo- critical professors of the reformed religion insinuated themselves into his confidence, with a design to learn his religious principles. Their disingenuous stratagem suc- ceeded to their wishes ; for as he was a man of an open, unreserved temper, he freely declared his sentiments, which those snakes reported to his enemies, who there- upon caused his library to be searched for heretical books, and finding some of his writings, both in Latin and English, that in- v6ighed against popish cruelty, they threatened to lay this disco- very before the queen's commis- sioners, unless he would quietly resign his school to a friend of theirs, and depart. Mr. Palmer, fearful of death, complied with their unjust pro- posal, and departed from Reading, leaving behind him all his goods, with the salary that was due to him. Being thus destitute of a liveli- hood, he went to Evesham, in Worcestershire, where his mother lived, in order to obtain from her a legacy, which his father had be- queathed him four years before. As soon as he saw his mother, he implored her blessing, on his bended knees; but she having been informed, by his brother, of the cause of his resignation, and the business of his visit, hastily exclaimed, " Thou shalt have Christ's curse and mine, whither- soever thou goest." Julius, at first, was amazed at so unexpected and heavy a curse from his own mother; but after he had recollected himself a little, he said, " O mother, your own curse you may give me, which God knoweth I never deserved; but God's curse you cannot give me, for he hath already blessed me." His bigoted mother said, " Thou wentest from God's blessing when thou wast banished for an heretic from thy fellowship at Oxford, and for the like knavery hast thou been expelled from Reading too." "Alas! mother," returned Ju- lius, " my case has been misre- presented to you, for I was not expelled from the college at Ox- ford, but freely I resigned my fel- lowship there. Heretic I am none, for I oppose not the true doctrine of Christ, but defend it to my utmost power." His mother then vehemently de- clared, that lie believed not as his father and forefathers had done, but according to the new doctrine taught and set forth in the days of king Edward VI., which was damn- able heresy. In answer to this he confessed, that he believed the doctrine pub- licly set forth in the reign of king Edward VI. He also affirmed it to be truth, and that, instead of being new, it was as old as Christ and his apostles. His mother, incensed at this frank declaration of his principles, ordered him to depart the house, nor ever more esteem her as his mother, informing him, at the same time, that he- had no pro- perty there, either in money or goods, as his father bequeathed nothing to heretics. Our martyr, as became a true follower of the blessed Jesus, when he was reviled, reviled not again, but committed his cause to Him who judgeth righteously. On leaving his bigoted mother, he thus addressed her: " Mother, you have cursed me, I beseech God to bless you, and prosper your un- dertakings as long as you live." This pathetic address, attended with flowing tears, in some degree moved her compassion; and, on his leaving the room, she threw a piece of gold after him, saying, " Keep that to make thee a true man." Mr. Palmer, being thus repulsed by his mother, on whom he relied as his only friend, as well as dis- 686 BOOK OF MARTYRS. regarded by his brother, was des- titute of all help, and knew not what steps to take in order to ob- tain subsistence. At length, he thought of return- ing privately to Magdalen college, depending on the confidence of a few friends he had in that house. He accordingly went thither, and, through the interest of Mr. Allen Cope, a fellow of the same, he ob- tained a recommendation to a school in Gloucestershire. He had not proceeded far on his journey to that place before he al- tered his resolution, and deter- mined to go privately to Reading, to try if he could obtain the salary due to him, and at the same time dispose of the goods be had left there. No sooner had he arrived at Reading, than his old enemies be- came acquainted with it, and con- sulted in what manner they should proceed against him. In a short time it was concluded amongst them, that one Mr. Hampton, who had formerly pro- fessed himself a protestant, (but who was, in reality, a time-server), should visit him, under colour of friendship, to learn the cause of his return. Hampton traitorously went, when Palmer, with his usual sin- cerity, and openness of soul, dis- closed his whole design, which the other immediately related to the confederates, who caused him to be apprehended that very night, by the officers appointed for that pur- pose. Mr. Palmer was then carried to prison, where he remained ten days in the custody of an unmer- ciful keeper ; at the expiration of which time he was brought before the mayor of Reading, and charg- ed with the following crimes : 1. That he said the queen's sword was not put into her hand to execute tyranny, and to kill and murder the true servants of God. 2. That her sword was too blunt towards the papists, but too sharp towards the true Chris- tians. 3. That certain servants of sir Francis Knollcs, and others, re- sorting to his lectures, fell out among them, and had almost com- mitted murder; therefore he was a sower of sedition, and a pro- curer of unlawful assemblies. 4. That his landlady had written a letter to him, which they had in- tercepted, wherein she requested him to return to Reading, and, sent her commendations by the token, that the knife lay hid under the beam, whereby they inferred that she, had conspired with him against ber husband. 5. That they once found him alone with his said landlady, by the lire-side, the door being shut, thereby suspecting him of inconti- nency with her. Three men, who were suborned for the purpose by one of the con- federates, swore these things against him before the mayor, who thereupon sent him to the cage, to be an open spectacle of contempt to the people. The same villain also spread a report, that he was thus punished for the most enormous crimes and misdemeanors, which had been fully proved against him. After he had been thus unjustly exposed to public shame, the mayor sent for him to answer for himself, concerning what was laid to his charge. He fully overthrew all the evi- dence, by proving the letter said to have been written to him by his landlady, to be of their own forg- ing ; and[in the most incontestable manner acquitted himself of all the other crimes laid to his charge. The mayor was confounded, to think he should have given such credit to his persecutor; and though he did not choose to dis- charge him immediately, yet he thought of doing it as soon as a convenient opportunity should offer. While Mr. Palmer was in pri- son, he was visited by one John Galant, a true professor of the gospel, who said to him, " O Pal- mer! thou hast deceived many JULIUS PALMER, AND OTHERS. 587 men's expectations, for we hear that you sufl'er not for rif^hteous- ness sake, but for thy own deme- rits." Palmer replied, " O brother Ga- lant, these be the old practices of that fanatical brood : but be you well assured, and God be praised for it, I have so purj^ed myself and detected their falsehood, that from henceforth I shall be no more molested therewith." When his enemies found they had miscarried in their plot against him, they determined to accuse him of heresy. This was accord- ingly done, in consequence of which he was taken before the mayor, and Mr. Bird, the bishop of Salisbury's official, in order to give an account of his faith, and to answer to such information as might be laid against him. In the course of his examination they gathered from him sufficient grounds to proceed against him. Articles were accordingly drawn up, and sent to Dr. Jeffrey at Newbery, who was to hold his vi- sitation there on the Thursday fol- lowing. The next day Palmer was con- ducted to Newbery, together with one Thomas Askine, who had been for some time imprisoned on ac- count of his religion. Immediately on their arrival they were commit- ted to the Blind-house prison, where they found one John Gwin, who was confined there for pro- fessing the truth of the gospel. On Tuesday, July 10, 1556, a place being prepared in the parish church of Newbery to hold the consistory court, Dr. Jeffrey, re- presentative of the bishop of Sa- rum ; sir Richard Abridge, John Winchom, Esq. and the minister of Inglefield, repaired thither, as commissioners appointed for the purpose. After the prisoners were pro- duced, the commission read, and other things done according to the usual form. Dr. Jell'rey, in the pre- sence of several hundred specta- tors, called to Palmer, and asked if he was the writer of a two-penny pamphlet that had been lately published ? Having some altercation about this allair, in which Palmer an- swered in his own behalf with great force and propriety, the doc- tor, rising from his seat, said to him, " Mr. Palmer, we have re- ceived certain writings and arti- cles against you from the right worshipful the mayor of Reading, and other justices, whereby we understand, that being brought before them, you were convicted of certain heresies. " I. That you deny the suprem- acy of the pope's holiness. " 2. That you affirm there are but two sacraments. "3. You say that the priest sheweth up an idol at mass, and therefore you went to no mass since your first coming to Read- ing. " 4. You hold there is no purga- tory. " 5. You are charged with sow- ing sedition, and seeking to di- vide the unity of the queen's sub- jects." Several books and pamphlets were then produced, and Palmer being asked if he was the author of them, replied in the affirmative, declaring, at the same time, that they contained nothing but what was founded o-n the word of God. Jeffrey then reviled him, declar- ing that such opinions Avere dic- tated by no good spirit, and that he was very wicked in slandering the dead, and railing at a Catholic and learned man living. Mr. Palmer replied, " If it be a slander, he slandered himself, for I do but report his own writings, and expose absurdities therein contained : and I esteem it not railing to inveigh against Annas and Caiaphas, being dead," The doctor, incensed at this re- ply, assured him, that he would take such measures as should com- pel him to recant his damnable errors and heresies ; but Palmer told him, that although of himself he could do nothing, yet if he, and all his enemies, both bodily 588 BOOK OF MARTYRS. and ghostly, should exert their etlbrts, they would not be able to effect what they desired, neither could they prevail against the migfhty powers of divine grace, by which he understood the truth, and was determined to speak it boldly. After much farther discourse, the minister of Inglelield pointed to the pix over the altar, saying to Palmer, "What seest thou there i" To which he replied, " A canopy of silk embroidered "with gold." " But what is within?" demanded the priest. "A piece of bread in a cloth," replied Palmer. The priest then upbraided him as a vile heretic, and asked him if he did not believe that those who receive the holy sacrament of the altar do truly eat Christ's natural body. He answered, " If the sacra- ment of the Lord's Supper be ad- ministered as Christ did ordain it, the faithful receivers do, indeed, spiritually and truly eat and drink in it Christ's body and blood." On being asked, if be meant with the holy mother-church, really, carnally, and substantially, he de- clared, " he could not believe so absurd and monstrous a doctrine." After this the court was adjourn- ed, when one of the justices took Palmer aside, and in the presence of several persons exhorted him to revoke his opinions, and thereby preserve his life ; promising him, at the same time, if he would con- form to the church, to take him into his family as his chaplain, and give him a handsome salary, or, if he chose not to resume the clerical function, to procure him an advantageous farm. Mr. Palmer heartily thanked him for his kind oifer, but assured him that he had already renounced his living in two places, for the sake of Christ and his gospel, and was ready to yield up his life in de- fence of the same, if God, in his providence, should think fit to call him to it. When the justice found he could by no means bring him to a recan- tation, he said, " Well, Palmer, I perceive that one of us two must be damned, for we are of two faiths, and there is but one faith that leads to life and salvation." Palmer observed, that it was possible they might both be saved, for that as it had pleased a mer- ciful God to call him at the third hour of the day, that is in the prime of life, at the age of twenty-four years, so he trusted, that in his infinite goodness he would gra- ciously call the other at the eleventh hour of his old age, and give him an eternal inheritance among the saints in light. After much conversation had passed, and many efforts were tried in vain, Palmer was remand- ed back to prison ; but the other men, John Gwin and Thomas Askine, were brought into the con- sistory court, received their defini- tive sentence, and were delivered over to the secular power, to be burned as heretics. Though the particular exami- nations and answers of these two martyrs are not recorded, there is no doubt but they were of the same faith, and equally steadfast in it, as their fellow sufferer Pal- mer ; but they were very illiterate, from whence it is supposed their examination was short, they not being capable of making any de- fence. The next morning the commis- sioners required Julius Palmer to subscribe to certain articles which they had gathered from his an- swers, bxit which they described by those odious epithets and terms, horrid, heretical, damnable, and execrable ; this, when he had read, he refused to subscribe, affirming, that the doctrine which he held and professed was not such, but agreeable to, and founded on, the word of God. Jeffrey being now greatly incen- sed. Palmer consented to subscribe, provided they would strike out those odious epithets ; upon which they gave him a pen, and bid him do as he pleased, when he made THREE WOMEN AND AN INFANT. &89 sucli alterations as he thought pro- per, and then subscribed. Having thus set his hand to the articles which they had drawn up, they asked him if he would re- cant ; but he peremptorily refus- ing, they pronounced sentence against him, and he was delivered over to the secular power. Wliile he was in prison he gave great comfort to his two fellow- sufferers, and strongly exhorted them to hold fast to the faith they had professed. On the day of their execution, about an hour be- fore they were led to the stake, he addressed them in words to the following effect: " Brethren, be of good cheer in the Lord, and faint not; remember the words of our Saviour Christ, who saith, ' Happy are ye when men shall revile and persecute you for my sake : rejoice, and be ex- ceeding glad, for great is your re- ward in heaven.' Fear not them that kill the body, but are not able to hurt the soul; God is faithful, and will not suffer us to be tempted above what we are able to bear. We shall end our lives in the fire, but wc shall exchange them for a better life : yea, for coals we shall receive pearls; for God's spirit certifieth our spirit, that he hath prepared for us blissful mansions in heaven for his sake, who suffered for us," These words not only strength- ened and confirmed the resolution of his two weak brethren, but drew tears from many of the multitude. When they were brought by the high-sheriff and constables of the town to the sand-pits, (the place appointed for their execu- tion) they fell on the ground, and Palmer, with an audible voice, re- peated the thirty-first psalm: but the other two made their prayers secretly to Almighty God. When Palmer arose from prayer, there came behind him two popish priests, exhorting him to recant, and save his soul. Our martyr exclaimed, " Away, away, and tempt me no longer ! away ! I say, from me, all ye that work iniquity, for the Lord hath heard the voice of niy tears." When they were chained to the stake Palmer thus addressed the spectators ; " Good people, pray for us, that we persevere to the end, and for Christ's sake beware of popish teachers, for they deceive you." As he spoke this, one of the attendants threw a fagot at him, which striking him on the face, caused the blood to gush out from several places ; but this cruel be- haviour escaped not the notice or resentment of the sheriff, who not only upbraided his cruelty, but manfully retaliated the injury on the man, who had thus insulted suf- fering innocence. When the fire was kindled, and began to reach their bodies, they lifted up their hands towards hea- ven, and cheerfully, as though they felt not much pain, said, " Lord Jesu, strengthen us ! Lord Jesu, assist us! Lord Jesu, receive our souls !" and thus they continued without any struggling, holding up their hands, and sometimes beating upon their breasts, and calling on the name of Jesus, till they ended their mortal lives, and exchanged a scene of exquisite paifi, for an everlasting habitation in those hea- venly mansions, where their Al- mighty Father reigns, encompassed by ten thousand times ten thousand blissful spirits. MARTYRDOM OF THREE WOMEN AND AN INFANT, IN GUERNSEY. Of all the singular and tragical histories in this book, nothing can be more barbarous, if any thing- can equal, the inhumanity of this execution upon three women and an infant, whose names were Ca- therine Cawches, the mother; Guillemine Gilbert, and Perotine Massey, her daughters ; and an infant, the son of Perotine. These innocent victims of popish cruelty owed their suffering to the following circumstances. A wo- man, named Gosset, having stolen a cup, took it to Mrs. Massey, who lived with her mother and sister, 1 690 BOOK OF MARTYRS. and requested of her to lend her six-pence upon it. The latter, suspecting the theft, at first re- fused ; but thinking she would re- turn it to the owner, whom she knew, in order to prevent Gosset's taking it elsewhere, gave her the sixpence, and made known the afiair to the owner, who charging the oflender with her crime, she confessed, and the cup was, ac- cordingly, restored. On a pretend- ed suspicion, however, that Mrs. Massey, with her mother and sis- ter, was a sharer in the crime, they were accordingly imprisoned and brought to trial, when it evidently appeared that they were perfectly innocent. It was found, however, that they did not attend the church, and on further investigation, they were discovered to be, in the judg- ment of the papists, heretics ; and they v/ere, consequently, condemn- ed to be burnt. After sentence was pronounced, the hapless women appealed to the king, queen, and council, say- ing, "That against reason and rio-ht they were condemned, and - for that cause they made their ap- peal ;" their persecutors, however, refused to receive their appeal, but delivered them to the officers, for execution according to their sen- tence. The day being come when these innocents should suffer, July 18, 1556, in the place where they stood 10 consummate their martyrdom were three stakes set up. To the middle post the mother was bound, the eldest daughter on the right hand, and the youngest on the left. They were first strangled, but the rope breaking before they were dead, they fell into the fire. Pe- rotine, who was then in a very advanced stage of pregnancy, fell on her side, and her womb burst- ing asunder, by the vehemency of the fiame, the infant, being a male, fell into the fire, and being imme- diately taken out by one W. House, .-was laid upon the grass. Then was the child carried to tlie provost, and from him to the bailiff, who gave order thnt it should be carried back again and cast into the fire. And so the in- fant, baptized in his own blood, to fill up the number of God's inno- cent saints, was both born and died a martyr, leaving behind a spectacle wherein the whole world may see the Herodian cruelty of this graceless generation of popish tormentors, to their perpetual shame and infamy. " Now," says Mr. Fox, " as this story, perhaps, for the horrible strangeness of the fact, will be hardly believed by some, but ra- ther thought to be forged, or else more amplified by me than truth will bear me out, therefore, to dis- charge my credit herein, I will not only mention that I received this story by the faithful relation both of the French and English, of them which were there present wit- nesses and lookers on, but also have hereto annexed the true sup- plication of the said inhabitants of Guernsey, and of the brother of the said two sisters, complaining to Queen Elizabeth, and her com- missioners, concerning the horri- bleness of the act." Then foUows the petition, which, after stating the cruelty of the case, solicits the restoration of the pro- perty of the martyrs, which had been confiscated, to him, as the rightful heir. This being presented to the queen's commissioners, in the year 1562, such order therein was taken, that the matter being further ex- amined, the dean who had been instrumental in the tragical event, was committed to prison, and dis- possessed of all his livings. So that in conclusion, both he, and all other partakers of that most bloody and barbarous murder, either by conscience, or for fear of the law, were driven to acknowledge their trespass, and to submit themselves to the queen's mercy. THREE MARTYRS, BURNT AT GRIN- STEAD IN SUSSEX. Near about the same time that these three women, and the in- fant, were burnt at Guernsey, THOMAS MOOR— JOHN JACKSON. 591 three other persons suffered at Grinstead, in Sussex, two men and one woman ; the names of whom were Thomas Dungatc, John Foreman, and Mary Tree, •who for righteousness' sake gave themselves to death amidst the tor- ments of the fire, patiently abiding what the furious rage of man could say or work against them ; and so ended tlieir lives on the 18th of July, in the year 1556. MARTYRDOM OF THOMAS MOOR, AT LEICESTER. As the bloody rage of this per- secution spared neither man, wo- man nor child, lame nor blind, and as there was no difference either of age or sex considered, so neither was there any condi- tion or quality respected of any person; but whosoever he were that believed not as the papists did, concerning the pope and the sacrament of the altar, were he learned or unlearned, wise or sim- ple, all went to the fire. Thus this poor simple man named Tho- mas Moor, a servant in the town of Leicester, about 24 years of age, for merely expressing his be- lief that "his Maker was in hea- ven and not in the pyx," was there- upon apprehended and brought before his ordinary, when he was first asked, "Whether he did not believe his Maker to be there 1" pointing to the high altar. Which he denied. " How then," said the bishop, " dost thou believe ?" The young man answered, " As my creed doth teach me." Then said the bishop, " And what is yonder that thou seest above the altar V He answered, " Forsooth, I can- not tell what you would have me to see. I see there fine clothes, with golden tassels, and other gay matters hanging about the pyx : what is within I cannot see." " Why," said the bishop, " dost thou not believe Christ to be there, flesh, blood, and bone?" " No, that I do not," replied Moor. Whereupon the ordinary making short with him, read the sentence, and so condemned this faithful servant of Christ to death ; he was accordingly burnt, and suffered a joyful and glorious martyrdom for the testimony of righteousness, at Leicester, about the 26th day of June, 1556. EXAMINATION OF JOHN JACKSON, MARCH 11, 1556. There is so much Christian boldness and becoming spirit in the answers of John Jackson, on his examination by Dr. Cook, as related by himself, that we give them, although we have no certain account of his ultimate fate. " First, when I came before him, he railed on me, and called me heretic. I answered and said, I am no heretic. Cook. Yes, thou art. For Mr. Read told me, that thou wert the rankest heretic of all of them in the King's Bench. Jackson. I know him not. Cook. No ? Yes, he examined thee at the King's Bench. Jackson. He examined five others, but not me. Cook. Then answer me : what sayest thou to the blessed sacra- ment of the altar? Tell me. Jackson. It is a vague question to ask me at the first setting off. Cook. What an heretic is this ! Jackson. It is easier to call a man heretic, than to prove him one. Cook. What church art thou of? Jackson. What church? I am of the same church that is built on the foundation of the prophets and the apostles, Jesus Christ himself being the head corner-stone. Cook. Thou art an heretic. Jackson. How can that be, see- ing that I am of that church? I am sure that you will not say that the prophets and apostles were here- tics. Cook. No. But what sayest thou to the blessed sacrament of the altar, again? Tell me. Jackson, J find it not written. 599, BOOK OF MARTYRS. Cook. No? Keeper, away with him. Yet I tarried there long, and did talk with him ; and I said, Sir, I am content to be tractable, and obedient to the word of God. Dr. Cook answered, and said to me, that I knew not what the word of God meant, nor yet whether it were true or not. Jackson. Yea, that I do. Cook. Whereby? Jackson. Hereby, said I. Our Saviour Christ saith, ' Search the Scriptures ; for in them you think to have eternal life. For they be they that testify of me.' Cook. That is a wise proof. Jackson. Is it so? What say you then to these words, that the prophet David said? ' Whatsoever he be that feareth the Lord, He will shew him the way that he hath chosen: his soul shall dwell at ease, and his seed shall possess the land. The secrets of the Lord are among them that fear him, and he sheweth them his covenant.' Cook. Well, you shall be rid shortly, one way or other. Jackson. My life lieth not in men's hands, therefore no man shall do more unto me than God will suifer him. Cook. No? Thou art a stubborn and naughty fellow. Jackson. You cannot so judge of me, except you did see some evil by me. Cook. No? Why may not I judge thee, as well as thou and thy fellows judge us, and call us pa- pists? Jackson. Why, that is no judg- ment: but Christ saith, 'If you refuse mc, and receive not my word, you have one that judgeth you. The word that I have spoken unto you now, shall judge you in the last day.' Cook. I pray thee tell me, who is the head of the congregation? Jackson. Christ is the head. Cook. But who is head on earth? Jackson. Christ hath members here on earth. Cook. Who are they ? Jackson. They that are ruled by the word of God. Cook. You are a good fellow. Jackson. 1 am that I am. Then Dr. Cook said to my keeper. Have him to prison again. I am contented with that, said I ; and so we departed. I answered no further in this mat- ter, because I thought he should not have my blood in a corner. But I hope, in the living God, that when the time shall come, before the congregation I shall shake their building after an- other manner of fashion. For they build but upon the sand, and their walls are daubed with un- tempered mortar, and therefore they cannot stand long. Therefore, good brothers and sisters, be of good cheer: for I trust in my God, I and my other fellow-prisoners shall go joyfully before you, praising God most heartily, that we are counted worthy to be witnesses of his truth. I pray you accept my simple an- swer at this time, committing you unto God." MARTYRDOM OF JOAN WASTE, A POOR BLIND WOMAN, AT DERBY. This poor woman, during the time of king Edward VI., used to frequent the church to hear divine service in the vulgar tongue, toge- ther with homilies and sermons, by which means she became confirmed and established in the principles of the reformed religion. Having purchased a New Testa- ment in English, she applied to an old man, whom she paid for read- ing such passages as she directed him; by which means she became so well versed in the holy Scrip- tures, that she could repeat entire chapters by heart, and, by citing proper texts of Scripture, would reprove the errors in religion, as well as the vicious customs and practices that prerailed in those days. Thus did this pious woman in- crease in the knowledge of God's word, leading a life of exemplary godliness, without molestation, or JOAN WASTIS. 595 any kind of interruption, during the reign of king Edward. But on his death, and the re in- troduction of popery, on the acces- sion of queen Mary, because she continued steadfast in the profes- sion of that faith she had embraced from a knowledge of the divine word, and refused to communicate with those who maintained con- trary doctrines, she was brought before Dr. Ralph Bayn, bishop of Lichtield and Coventry, and Dr. Draycott, the chancellor, as one suspected of heresies, and by them committed to the prison of Derby. Biahop Latimsr eiamined before a Popiih Tiibinial, She was several times privately examined by Peter Finch, the bi- shop's oflicial; and afterwards brought to public examination be- fore the bishop, his chancellor, and several more of the queen's commissioners ; when the follow- ing articles were alleged against her: 1. That she held the sacrament of the altar to be only a memorial, or representation of Christ's body, and material bread and wine ; and that it ought not to be reserved from time to time, but immediately received. 2. That she held, that in the FOX'S MARTYRS. receiving the sacrament of the al- tar she did not receive the same body that was born of the Virgin Mary, and suflered on the cross, for tlie redemption of mankind. 3. That she held, that Christ, at his last supper, did not only bless the bread which he had then in his hands, but was blessed him- self; and that, by virtue of the words of consecration, the sub- stance of the bread and wine was not converted, nor turned into the substance of the body and blood of Christ. 4. That she granted she was of the parish of Allhallows, in Derby, 38 594 BOOK OF MARTYRS. and that all and singular the pie- inises were true. To these respective articles she answered, that she believed just as much as the holy Scriptures taught her, and according to what she had heard preached by many pious and learned men; some of whom had suffered imprisonment, and others death, for the same doc- trine. Among others, she mentioned Dr. Taylor, and asked, if they would follow his example in testi- mony of their doctrine? which, un- less they were willing to do, she desired, for God's sake, they would not trouble her, (being a poor, blind, and illiterate woman), declaring, at the same time, she was ready to yield up her life in defence of that faith she had pub- licly professed. The bishop, and his chancellor, urged many arguments in proof of tiie real presence in the sacrament of the altar, demanding why Christ \i'as not as able to make bread his body, as to turn water into wine, to raise Lazarus from the dead, and the like, threatening her, at the same time, with imprisonment, tor- ments, and death. The poor woman, terrified at these threatenings, told the bishop, if he would, before that company, take it upon his conscience, that the doctrine which he would have her to believe, concerning the sacra- ment, was true, and that he would, at the awful tribunal of God, an- swer for her therein, (as Dr. Tay- lor, in several sermons, had of- fered), she would then further an- swer them. The bishop declaring that he would, the chancellor said to him, " My lord, you know not what you do ; you may in no case answer for an heretic." The bishop, struck by this inter- position of the chancellor, de- manded of the woman, whether she would recant or not, and told ber she should answer for herself. Tliis honest Christian finding, at length, they designed but to pre- varicate, told his lordship, that if he refused to take upon himself to answer for the truth of what they required her to believe, she would answer no farther, but desired them to do their pleasure. In consequence of this, sentence of death was pronounced against her, and she was delivered to the sheriff, who immediately re-con- ducted her to the prison. On the 1st of August, 1556, the day appointed for her execution, she was led to the stake. Imme- diately on her arrival at the fatal spot, she knelt down, and, in the most fervent manner, repeated se- veral prayers, desiring the specta- tors to pray also for her departing soul. Having finished her prayers she arose, and was fastened to the stake; when the fagots being lighted, she called on the Lord to have mercy on her, and continued so to do, till the flames deprived her both of speech and life. And thus did this poor woman quit this mortal stage, to obtain a life of immortality, the sure and certain reward of all tliose who suffer for the sake of the true gospel of their blessed Redeemer. VARIOUS MARTYRDOMS. On the 8th of September, 1556, one Edward Sharp was burnt at Bristol; and on the 25th of the same month, a young man, by trade a carpenter, suffered at the same place. The day preceding the last mar- tyrdom, John Hart, a shoemaker, and Thomas Ravendale, a cur- rier, were burnt at Mayfield, in Sussex. And, On the 27th of the same month, one John Horn, and a woman, whose name is unknown, suffered at Wooton-under-Edge, in Glou- cestershire. All these martyrs submitted to their fate with the most Christian fortitude, giving glory to God for having numbered them among the followers and advocates of his most holy gospel. FIVE PERSONS STARVED TO DEATH. The last on record, who suffered FIVE PERSONS STARVED TO DEATH. 595 for the truth of the gospel in tlie bloody year 1556, were five persons, (coafincd, with many others, in Canterbury eastle) who Avere cru- elly starved to death. Their names were as follow: — William Foster, Alice Potkins, and John Archer, who had been condemned; John Clark, and Dunstan Chit- tenden, who had not been con- demned. The cruel usage these unhappy persons suffered from their unfeel- ing persecutors, is displayed in a letter written by one of them, and thrown out of the window of the prison ; of which the following is an exact copy : " Be it known unto all men that shall read, or hear read, these onr letters, that we the poor prisoners of the castle of Canterbury, for God's truth, are kept, and lie in, cold irons, and our keepers will not suffer any meat to be brought to us to comfort us. Arid if any man do bring us any thing, as bread, butter, cheese, or any other food, the said keeper will charge them that so bring us any thing, ex- cept money or raiment, to carry it them again; or else, if he do receive any food of any for us, he doth keep it for himself, and he and his servants do spend it, so that we have no- thing thereof; and thus the keeper keepeth away our victuals from us: insomuch, that there are foiir of us prisoners there for God's truth fa- mished already ; and thus it is his mind to famish us all : and we think he is appointed thereunto by the bi- shops and priests, and also of the justices, so to famish us; and not only us of the said castle, but also all other prisoners, in other prisons, for the like cause to be also famish- ed : notwithstanding, we write not these our letters, to that intent we might not afford to be famished for the Lord Jesus' sake, but for this catiSe and intent, that they, having no law to famish us in prison, should not do it privily, but that the murderers' hearts should be op61fly known to all the world, that all men may know of what church they are, and who is their father. — Out of the castle of Canterbury." Among the others confined with these five were ten men, who hav- ing been examined by Dr. Thorn- ton, suffragan of Dover, and Nicho- las Harpstield, archdeacon of Can- terbury, were sentenced to be burnt. They had been confined a considerable time, but their sen- tence was. at length, put into exe- cution ; and they were the first who opened the bloody transactions of the year 1557. Their names wer-e as follow: — Stephen Kemp, of Norgate ; William Waterer, of Beddingden ; W. Prowting, of Thornham; W. Lowick, of Cran- broke; Thomas Hudson, of Sa- lenge; William Hay, of Hithe ; ThomasStephens, of Beddingden ; John Philpot, Nicholas Final, and Matthew Braddridge, all of Tenterden. The six first were burnt at Can- terbury on the 15th of January, 1557; Stephens and Philpot suffer- ed the next day at Wye; and Final and Bradbridge the day after, at Ashford. They all bore their sufferings with Christian fortitude, rejoicing that their troubles were drawing to an end, and that they should leave this world, for that where the weary are at rest. further persecutions. Notwithstanding the numerous" sacrifices that had been made in va-' rious parts of the kingdom^ since' the accession of queen Mary, in order to gratify the barbarous bi- gotry of that infatuated princess, yet they were far from being at au end. Naturally disposed to ty-' ranny, and encouraged in her. blood-thirsty principles by that' monster in human form, Bonner, bishop of London, she deterrbine'ct to compel all her subjects, who dif- fered from herself in religious sen- timents, either to submit to her maxims, or fall victims to "her insa- tiable vengeance. 596 BOOK OF MARTYRS. To facilitate this horrid intention, in the beginning of February, 1557, she issued the following proclama- tion, which was, in a great mea- sure, promoted by bishop Bonner, whose diabolical soul, in conjunc- tion with hers, thirsted after the blood of those who worshipped God in purity of heart. " Philip and Mary, by the grace of God, king and queen of England, &c. To the right reverend father in God, our right trusty and well- beloved counsellor Thomas, bishop of Ely, and to our right trusty and well-beloved William Windsore, knight, lord Windsore ; Edward North, knight, lord North ; and to our trusty and well-beloved coun- sellor J. Bourn, knight, one of our chief secretaries, J. Mordaunt, knight, Francis Englefield, knight, master of our wards and liveries, Edward Walgrave, knight, master of our great wardrobe, Nicholas Hare, knight, master of the rolls, Thomas Pope, knight, Roger Cholmley, knight, Richard Rede, knight, Rowland Hill, knight, Wil- liam Rastal, Serjeant at law, Henry Cole, clerk, dean of Paul's, Wil- liam Roper, and Ralph Cholmley, esquires, William Cook, Thomas Martin, John Story, and John Vaughan, doctors of the law, greet- ing. " Forasmuch as divers devilish and slanderous persons have not only invented, bruited, and set forth divers false rumours, tales, and seditious slanders against us, but also have sown divers heresies, and heretical opinions, and set forth divers seditious books within thisour realm of England, meaning thereby to stir up division, strife, conten- tion, and sedition, not only amongst our loving subjects, but also be- twixt us and our said subjects, with divers other outrageous misde- meanors, enormities, contempts, and oflences, daily committed and done, to the disquieting of us and our people : we, minding the due punishment of such offenders, and the repressing of such like offences, enormities, and misbehaviours from henceforth, having special trust and confidence in your fidelities, wis- doms, and discretions, have autho- rized, appointed, and assigned you to be our commissioners ; and by these presents do give full power and authority unto you, and three of you, to inquire, as well by the oaths of twelve good and lawful men, as by witnesses, and all other means and politic ways you can devise, of all and singular heretical opinions, loUardies, heretical and seditious books, concealments, con- tempts, conspiracies, and all false rumours, tales, seditious and slan- derous words or sayings, raised, published, bruited, invented, or set forth against us, or either of us, or against the quiet governance and rule of our people and subjects, by boG-ks, lies, tales, or otherwise, in any county, key, bowing, or other place or places, within this our realm of England, or elsewhere, in any place, or places, beyond the seas, and of the bringers in, utter- ers, buyers, sellers, readers, keep- ers, or conveyers of any such letter, book, rumour, and tale; and of all and every their coadjutors, coun- sellors, comforters, procurers, abet- tors and maintainers, giving unto you, and three of you, full power and authority, by virtue hereof, to search out, and take into your hands and possessions, all manner of heretical and seditious books, letters, and writings, wheresoever they, or any of them, shall be found, as well in printers' houses and shops as elsewhere, willing you, and every of you, to search for the same in all places, according to your discretions. " And also to inquire, hear, and determine, all and singular enor- mities, disturbances, misbehaviours, and negligences committed in any church, chapel, or other hallowed place within this realm ; and also for and concerning the taking away, or withholding any lands, tene- ments, goods, ornaments, stocks of money, or other things belonging to every of the same churches and TWENTY-TWO PERSONS APPREHENDED. 597 chapels, and all accounts and rec- konings concerning the same. " And also to inquire and search out all such persons as obstinately do refuse to receive the blessed sa- crament of the altar, to hear mass, or to come to their parish churches, or other convenient places appoint- ed for divine service; and all such as refuse to go on procession, to take holy bread, or holy water, or otiierwise do misuse themselves in any church, or other hallowed places, wheresoever any of the same oiTences have been, or here- after shall be committed, within this our said reahn. " Nevertheless, our will and pleasure is, that when, and as often as any person, or persons, here- after being called or convened be- fore you, do obstinately persist, or stand in any manner of heresy, or heretical opinion, that then ye, or three of you, do immediately take order, thatthe same person, or per- sons, so standing, or persisting, be delivered and committed to his or- dinary, there to be used according to the spiritual and ecclesiastical laws. " And also we give unto you, or three of you, full power and autho- rity, to inquire and search out all vagabonds, and masterless men, barretours, quarrellers, and sus- pected persons, abiding within our city of London, and ten miles com- pass of the same, and all assaults and affrays done and committed within the same city and compass. " And further, to search out all wastes, decays, and ruins of churches, chancels, chapels, par- sonages, and \icarages, in the dio- cese of the same, being within this realm, giving you, and every of you, full power and authority, by virtue hereof, to hear and deter- mine the same, and all other offen- ces and matters above specified and rehearsed, according to your wisdoms, consciences, and discre- tions, willing and commanding you, or three of you, from time to time, to use and devise all such politic ways and means, for the trial and searching out of the premises, as by you, or three of you, shall be thought most expedient and neces- sary: and upon inquiry, and due proof had, known, perceived, and tried out, by the confession of the parties, or by sufficient witnesses before you, or three of you, con- cerning the premises, or any part thereof, or by any other ways or means requisite, to give and award such punishment to the offenders, by fine, imprisonment, or other- wise; and to take such order for redress and reformation of the pre- mises, as to your wisdoms, or three of you, shall be thought meet and convenient. " Further willing and command- ing you, and every three of you, in case you shall find any person, or persons, obstinate or disobedient, either in their appearance before you, or three of you, at your call- ing or assignment, or else in not accomplishing, or not obeying your decrees, orders, and command- ments, in any thing or things, touching the premises, or any part thereof, to commit the same per- son, or persons, so offending, to ward, there to remain, till by you, or three of you, he be discharged or delivered, &c." ACCOUNT OF TWENTY-TWO PERSONS APPREHENDED AT COLCHESTER, AND BROUGHT TO LONDON, FOR EXAMINATION BY BONNER. The proclamation which we have given above, was issued on the 8th of February, 1557, and gave the new inquisition an opportunity of ex- tending their horrid ravages ; so that persecution universally pre- vailed, and most of the gaols in the kingdom were crowded with pri- soners, for the true faith. The rage of persecution was par- ticularly prevalent in and about the town of Colchester, insomuch that twenty-three persons were appre- hended together, of which number one only escaped; the others being sent up to London, in order to abide by the award of the blood}' tribunals These poor people con- sisted of fourteen men and eight women, who were fastened toge- 1 598 BAOK OF MARTYRS. t^r, with a chain placed between them, each perfion being at the same time tied separately with a cord round the arm. Ou their en- trance into the city they were pi- pjonpd, and in that manner conduct- ed to Newgate. Before we proceed to relate far- ther particulars relative to these innocent victims of persecution, it maj not be improper, in order to give the reader a just idea of that miscalled reUgion whiph can justi- fy such horrid cruelty and injustice, to lay before our readers the popish commissary's letter to bishop Bon- ner on this occasion. It was as follows : " After my duty done in receiv- ing and accomplishing your ho- nourable and most loving letters, dated August 7, be it known unto your lordship, that the 28th of Au- gust, the lord of Oxenford, lord barcy, H. Tyrel, A. Brown, W^ Bendelows, E. Tyrel, R. Weston, B-, Appleton, published their com- mission, to seize the lauds, tene- ments, and goods of the fugitives, so that the owners should have neither use nor advantage thereof, but by inventory remain in safe keeping, until the cause were de- termined. " And also there was likewise proclaimed the queen's warrant for the restitution of the church goods within Colchester, and the hun- dreds thereabout, to the use of God's service. And then were called the parishes particularly, and the heretics partly committed to my examination. And that di- vers persons should certify me of the ornaments of their churches, betwixt this and the justices' next appearance, which shall be on Mi- chaelmas next. And the parishes, which had presented at two several times, to have all ornaments, with other things, in good order, were exonerated for ever, till they werfi warned again, and others to make their appearance from time to time. And those names blotted in the indenture, were indicted for treason, fugitives, or disobedient?, and were put forth by Mr. Brown's commandment. And before the sealing, my lord Darcy said unto me apart, and Mr. Bendelows, that I should have sufficient time to send unto your lordship ; yea, if need were, the heretics to remain in durance till I had an answer from you, yea, till the lord legate's grace's commissioners come into the country. " And Mr, Brown came unto ray lord Darcy's house and parlour, be- longing unto Mr. Barnaby, before my said lord, and all the justices, and laid his hand on my shoulder, with a smiling countenance, and desired me to make his hearty com- mendations to your good lordship, and asked me if I would : and I said. Yea, with a good will. Wherefore I w as glad, and thought that I should not have been charged with so sudden carriage. " But after dinner, the justices counselled with the bailiffs, and with the gaolers, and then after took me unto them, and made col- lation of their indentures, and seal- ed them ; and then My. Brown com- manded me this afternoon, being the 30th of August, to go and re- ceive my prisoners by and by. And then I said. It is an unreasonable commandment, for that I have at- tended on you here these three days, and this Sunday early I have sent home my men. Wherefore, I desire you to have a convenient time appointed, wherein I may know, whether it will please my lord, my master, to send his com- missioners hither, or that I shall make carriage of them unto his lordship. Then Mr. Brown «aid, We are certified that the council have written to your master to make speed, and to rid these pri- soners out of hand : therefore go receive your prisoners in haste. I answered. Sir, I shall receive them within these ten days. Then Mr. Brown said, The limitation lieth in us, and not in you, wherefore get you hence. " I replied. Sir, ye have indicted and delivered me by this indenture, whose faith or opinions I knew not, LETTER TO BONNER. 599 trusting that ye will grant me a time to examine them, lest I should punish the Catholies. Well, said Mr. Brown, for that cause ye shall have time betwixt this and Wed- nesday. And I say unto you, Mr. bailiif, if he do not receive them at your hands on Wednesday, set open your door, and let them go. " Then I said. My lord, and masters all, I promise to discharge the town and country of these he- retics within these ten days. The lord Darcy answered, Commissary, we do and must all agree in one. WhereTore do ye receive them on or before Wednesday. " To which I replied. My lord, the last I carried, 1 was going be- twixt the castle and St. Catharine chapel two hours and a half, and in great press and danger : where- fore this may be to desire your lordship, to give in commandment unto Mr. Sayer, my bailift" here present, to aid me through his liber- ties, not only with men and wea- pons, but that the town-clerk may be ready there with his book to write the names of the most busy persons, and this upon three hours warning ; all which both my lord and Mr. Brown commanded. "The 31st of August, William Goodwin of Muchbirch, husband- man, this bringer, and Thomas Alsey of Copford, your lordship's apparitor of your consistory in Colchester, covenanted with me, that they should hire two other men at the least; whereof one should be a bowman, to come to me the next day about two of the clock in the afternoon, so that I might recite this bargain before Mr. Archdeacon ; and pay the mo- ney, that is, forty-six shillings and eight pence. Wherefore they should then go forth with me unto Colchester, and on Wednesday, be- fore three of the clock in the morn- ing, receive there at my hand, within the castle and mote-hall, fourteen men, and eight women, bound with cords and fetters, and drive, carry, or lead, and feed with meat and drink, as heretics oug!;t to be found continually, unto such time that the said Goodwin and Alsey shall cause the said two and twenty i>ersons to be delivered unto my lord of London's officers, and within the safe keeping of my said lord, and then to bring unto me again the said fetters, with a perfect token of or frMn my said lord, and then this covenant is void, or else, &c. " Mr. Bendelows said unto me in my lord of Oxenford's chamber at the King's-head, after I had said mass before the lords, that on the morrow after Holy-Rood day, when we shall meet at Chelmsford for the division of these lands, I think, Mr. Archdeacon, you, and Mr. Smith, shall be fain to ride with certain of the jury to those portions and manors in your part of Essex, and in like case divide yourselves, to tread and view the ground with the quest, or else I think they will not labour the mat- ter, and so do you say unto Mr. Archdeacon. " Alice the wife of William Walley of Colchester hath sub- mitted herself, abjured her erro- neous opinions, asked absolution, promised to do her solemn penance in her parish church at St. Peter's on Sunday next, and to continue a Catholic and a faithful woman, as long as God shall send her life. And for these covenants her hus- band standeth bound in five pounds. Which Alice is one of the nine women of this your indenture, and she is big with child. Wherefore she remaineth at home, and this done in the presence of the bai- litt's, aldermen, and town-clerk. And because Mr. Brown was cer- tified there was no curate at Lex- don, he inquired who was the for- mer ? the answer was made, Sir* Francis Jobson. Who is the par- son ? they of the questmen an- swered. Sir Roger Ghos-tlow. When was he with you? Not these fourteen years. How is your cure served? Now and then. * Clergymen were formerly called Sir, as a title of re8pec<, derived from Senior, or Father. 600 BOOK OF iMAKTYRS. Wbo is tlie patron ? My lord of Aruudel, And within short time after, sir Francis Jobson caine with great courtesy unto my lord Darcy's place. And of all gentle- naeu about us, I saw no more come u\. •*' Sir Robert Sftiith, priest, some- time canon of Bridlington, now canon of Appledoore in the wild of Kent, came to Colchester the 28th day of August, with liis wife big with child, of late divorced, taken on suspicion, examined by the lords, and Mr. Brown told me that they have received letters from the detachment of certain persons, especially of one priest, whose name is Pullen, (but his right name is Smith) doubting this priest to be the said Pullen, al- t'lougli neither he nor his wife would confess the same. " Wherefore he lieth still in prison, but surely this is not Pullen. If it please your lordship to have in remembrance, that the householder might be compelled to bring every man his own wife to her own seat in the church in time of divine service, it would profit much, "And also there be yet standing hospitals, and others of like foun- dation about Colchester, which I have not known to appear at any visitation, as masters and lazars of •St. Mary Magdalene in Colchester, the proetor of St. Catherine's cha- pel in Colchester, the hospital or breadhouse of the foundation of the lord H. Harney in Laremarny, the hospital and headman of Little Horsley. " Thus presuming on your lord- ship's goodness, I am more tlian bold to trouble you with this world- ly business^ beseeching Almighty God to send your honourable lord- ■ship a condign reward*. * His lordship has, no doubt, long since received his " condign reward ;" that re- ward which is appointed by Eternal Justice for those who, under the mask of religion, perpetrate crimes and out- rages which would disgrace the most savags and bloodthirsty of barbarians. " From Eastthrop this ptfstnt thirtieth day of Auyust. " We found a letter concerning the marriage of priests in the hands of the aforesaid Sir Robert Smith. Also I desired Mr. Brown, the doer of all things, to require the audience to bring in their un- lawful writings and books ; who asked mc, if I had proclaimed the proclamation ? I said yea. Then he said openly on the bench, that they should be proclaimed once every quarter. And then take the constables and ollicers, and they alone take and punish the oflend- ers accordingly. " By your poor Beadman, " John Kingston, Priest." The twenty-two prisoners, be- forementioned, sent from Colches- ter to London, were, at length, brought before bishop Bonner, who examined them separately with re- spect to their faith ; but he did not choose to proceed against them, till he had sent the following letter to cardinal Pole : " May it please your grace, with my most humble obedience, reverence, and duty, to under- stand, that going to London upon Thursday last, and thinking to be troubled with Mr. German's mat- ter only, and such other common matters as are accustom.ed, enough to weary a right strong body, I had the day following, to comfort my stomach withal, letters from Colchester, that either that day, or the day following, I should have sent thence twenty-two he- retics, indicted before the commis- sioners ; and indeed so I had, and compelled to bear their charges, as I did of the others, a sum of money that I thought full evil be- stowed. And these heretics, not- withstanding they had honest Ca- tholic keepers to conduct and bring them up to me, and in all the way from Colchester to Stratford Bow, did go quietly and obedi- ently, (yet coming to Stratford they began to take heart of grace, and to do as they pleased theaxT BONNER'S LETTER TO POLE. 601 s-olves, for they began to have tlieir j!;uaid, wliich generally increased till they came to Aldgate, where they were lodged, Friday night. " And albeit I took order, that tbe said heretics should be with me early on Saturday morning, to the intent they might quietly come, and be examined by me ; yet it was between ten and eleven of the clock before they would come, and no way would they take but through Cheapside, so that they were brought to my house with a thousand persons. Which thing I took very strange, and spake to sir John Gresham, then being with rae, to tell the mayor and the sberifls that this thing was not well suffered in the city. These naughty heretics, all the way they came through Cheapside, both ex- horted the people to their part, and had much comfort from the promiscuous multitude ; and being entered into my house, and talked withal, they shewed themselves desperate, and very obstinate : yet I used all the honest means I could, both of myself and others, to have won them, causing divers learned men to talk with them ; and finding nothing in them but pride and wilfulness, I thought to have them all hither to Fulham, and here to give sentence against them. Nevertheless, perceiving, by my last doing, that your grace was offended, I thought it my duty, before I any farther proceeded herein, to advertise first your grace hereof, and know your good plea- sure, which I beseech your grace I. may do by this trusty bearer. And thus, most humbly, I take my leave of your good grace, beseech- ing Almighty God always to pre- serve the same. At Fulham, anno 1557. " Your grace's most bounden beadsman, and servant, Edmund Bonner." From the contents of this letter may evidently be seen the perse- cuting spirit of the blood-thirsty Bonner, who was manifestly de- sirous of glutting himself with the massacre of those innocent persons. Cardinal Pole, though a pa- pist, was a man of moderation and humanity, as appears, not only by his endeavour to mitigate the fury of Bonner, but also by several of his letters directed to archbishop Cranmer, as well as many com- plaints alleged against him to the pope, for his lenity towards the heretics. Nay, so incensed was his holi- ness by his mild and merciful dis- position, that he ordered him to Rome, and would have proceeded against him most rigorously, had not queen Mary interposed in his behalf, and warded off the danger that threatened him, and whicli would otherwise have fallen very heavily on him, for it was shrewd- ly suspected by the pope and his court, that the cardinal, a short time before his coming from Rome to England, began to favour the opinion and doctrine of Luther. But to return to the account of our martyrs, who would certainly have all suffered had it not been for the interposition of cardinal Pole ; it would exceed the limits of our work, and be tedious to the reader, were we minutely to relate the articles that were respectively administered to each, and tlifeir se- veral answers to the same. We shall, therefore, confine ourselves to that of the Lord's Supper, on which they were principally ex- amined, and give their GENERAL CONFESSION CONCERNING THAT SACRAMENT. " Whereas Christ, at his last Supper, took bread, and when he had given thanks he brake it, and gave it to his disciples, and said. Take, eat, this is my body. And likewise took the cup and thanked, &c. - We do understand it to be a figurative speech, as the common manner of his language was in parables, and dark sentences, that they which were carnally-minded should see with their eyes, and not understand ; signifying this, that as he did break the bread 602 BOOK OF MARTYRS. among them, being but one loaf, and they all were partakers there- of, so we, through his body in that it was broken and offered upon the cross for us, are all partakers thereof; and his blood cleanseth us from our sins, and hath pacified God's wrath towards us, and made the atonement between God and us, if we walk henceforth in the light even as he is in the true light. " And that he said further. Do this in rememhrance of me : it is a memorial and token of the suiier- ing and death of Jesus Christ : and he commanded it for this cause, that the followers of Christ should come together to shew his death, and to thank him for his benefits, and magnify his holy name ; and so to break bread, and drink the wine, in remembrance that Christ had given his body, and shed his blood for us. " Thus you may well perceive though Christ called the bread his body, and wine his blood, yet it followeth not, that the substance of his body should be in the bread and wine, as divers places in scrip- ture are spoken by the apostles in like phrase of speech, as in John XV. / am the true vine. Also in John X. / am the door. And as it is written in the ninth chapter to the Hebrews, and in Exodus xxiv. how Moses took the blood of calves, and sprinkled both the book and all the people, saying, This is the Mood of the covenant or testament. And also in the fifth chapter of Ezekiel, how the Lord said unto him concerning the third part of his hair, saying, This is Jerusa- lem, &c. " Thus we see how the scriptures speak in figures, and ought to be spiritually examined, and not as they would have us to say, that the bodily presence of Christ is in the bread, which is a blasphemous understanding of the word, and contrary to the holy scriptures. " Also, we see that great idola- try is sprung out of the misunder- standing of the words of Christ, This is my body, and yet daily springeth to the great dishonour of God ; so that men worship a piece of bread for God; yea, and hold that to be their maker." After this confession of their faith and doctrine was written and exhibited, they also drew up a letter in the form of a short sup- plication, or rather an admonition to the judges and commissioners, requiring that justice and judg- ment, after the rule of God's word, might be administered unto them. This letter was as follows : "a supplication of the pri- soners TO THE JUDGES. " To the right honourable au- dience, before whom our writings and the confession of our faith shall come ; we poor prisoners being fast in bonds upon the trial of our faith, which we offer to be tried by the scriptures, pray most heartily, that forasmuch as God hath given you power and strength over us as concerning our bodies, under whom we submit ourselves as obedient subjects in all things, ye, being officers and rulers of the people, may execute true judg- ment, keep the laws of righteous- ness, govern the people, and de- fend the cause of the poor and helpless. " God, for his Son Jesus Christ's sake, give you the wisdom and un- derstanding of Solomon, David, Hezekiah, Moses, with divers other most virtuous rulers, by whose wisdom and godly under- standing, the people were justly ruled and governed in fear of God, all wickedness was by them over- thrown and beaten down, and all godliness and virtue did flourish and spring. O God, which art the most high, the creator and maker of all things, and of all men, both great and small, and carest for all alike, who dost try all men's works and imaginations, before whose judgment-seat shall come both high and low, rich and poor; we most humbly beseech thee to put into our rulers' hearts the pure love and feajf of thy name, that even as; LOSEBY, RAMSEY, AND OTHERS. 603 they themselves would be judged, and as tliey shall make answer before thee, so they may hear our causes, judge with mercy, and read over these our requests and confessions of our faith, with de- liberation and a godly judgment. " And if any thing here seemeth to you to be erroneous or disagree- ing with the scripture, if it shall please your lordships to hear us patiently, which do offer ourselves to be tried by the scriptures, thereby to make answer; and, in so doing, we poor subjects being in much captivity and bondage, are bound to pray for your noble estate and long preservation." Notwithstanding the request of these men was so just, and their doctrine so sound, yet the bishop, and the other judges, would have passed sentence on them, had it not been for cardinal Pole, and some others, who thought the put- ting to death of so many at one time, would produce a great dis- turbance among the people. It was therefore decreed, that they should make a submission, or con- fession, and, thereupon, be dis- charged. This they readily agreed to ; and the following paper was drawn up and signed by them. " Because our Saviour at his last supper took bread, and when he had given thanks, he brake it, and gave it unto his disciples, and said, ' Take, eat, this is my body which is given for you, this do in remembrance of me ;' therefore, ac- cording to the words of our Sa- viour Jesus Christ, we do believe in the sacrament to be spiritually Christ's body. And likewise he took the cup, gave thanks, and gave it to his disciples, and said, * This is my blood of the New Testament which is shed for many ;' therefore likewise we do believe that it is spiritually the blood of Christ, according as his church doth administer the same. Unto which Catholic church of Christ we do, like as in all other mat- ters, s.ubmit ourselves, promising therein to live as it becomcth good Christian men, and here in this realm to behave ourselves as be- cometh faithful subjects unto our most gracious king and queen, and to all other superiors both spiritual and temporal, according to our bounden duties." The whole twenty-two persons brought from Colchester respec- tively subscribed their names to this submission ; as did also six others who had been apprehended in London, and were brought up with them at the same time for examination. The names of the whole were as follow : .John Atkyn, Allen Syrapson, Richard George, Thomas Fire- fanne, William Munt, Richard •Joly, Richard Gratwick, Thomas Winssey, Richard Rothe, Richard Clarke, Stephen Glover, Robert Colman, Thomas Merse, William Bongeor, Robert Bercock, Marga- ret Hyde, Elyn Euring, Christian Pepper, Margaret Field, Alice Munt, Joan Winslcy, Cicely Warren, Rose Allen, Ann Whit- locke, George Barker, John Saxby, Thomas Locker, and Alice Locker. In consequence of their submis- sion, they were all immediately set at liberty; though several of them were afterwards apprehend- ed, and put to death. One of the women, Margaret Hyde, escaped their resentment but a short time, being one in the list we have next to bring forward, of those who suffered for the truth of the gospel. MARTYRDOMS OF THOMAS LOSEBY, HENRY RAMSEY, THOMAS THYR- TELL, MARGARET HYDE, AND AGNES STANLEY. The popish emissaries having laid information against these ^five persons, they were all apprehend- ed, and being examined by several justices of the county of Essex, in which they resided, were by them sent up to the bishop of London, for examination. On their arrival the bishop referred them to the chancellor, who, after questioning them on the articles usual on such 604 BOOK OF MARTYRS. occasions, committed them all to Newgate. Alter being imprisoned nearly three months, by order of the chan- cellor, they were summoned to ap- pear before the bishop himself, when the following singular arti- cles were exhibited ajrainst them. " 1. That they thought, believed, and declared, within some part of the city and diocese of London, that the faith, religion, and eccle- siastical service here observed and kept, as it is in the realm of Eng- land, was not a true and laudable faith, religion, and service, espe- cially concerning the mass and the seven sacraments, nor were they agreeable to God's word ; and that they could not, without grudging and scruple, receive and use it, nor conform themselves unto it, as other subjects of this realm custom- arily have done. " 2. That they had thought, &c. that the English service, set forth in the time of king Edward the Sixth, in this realm of England, was good, godly, and Catholic in all points, and that it alone ought, here in this realm, to be received, used, and practised, and none other. "3. That they had thought, &c. that they were not bound to their parish church, and there to be pre- sent at matins, mass, even-song, and other divine service. " 4. That they had thought, &c. that they were not bound to come to procession to the church, upon times appointed, and to go in the same with others of the parish, singing or saying the accustomed prayers used in the church, nor to bear a taper, or candle, on Can- dlemas-day, nor take ashes on Ash-Wednesday, nor bear palms on Palm-Sunday, nor to creep to the cross upon days accustomed, nor to receive holy water and holy bread, or to accept or allow the ceremonies and usages of the church, after the manner in which they were then used in fliis realm. " 5. That they had thought, &c. that they were not bound, at any time, to confess their sins to any priest, and to receive absolution at his hands as God's minister, nor to receive, at any time, the blessed sacrament of the altar, especially as it is used in the church of Eng- land. " 6. That they had thought, &c. that in matters of religion and faith, they were bound to follow and be- lieve their own conscience only, and not credit the determination and common order of the Catholic church, and see of Rome, nor any member thereof. " 7. That they had thought, &c. that the fashion and manner of christening infants, is not agree- able to God's word, and that none can be effectually baptized, and therefore saved, except they are arrived to years of discretion to believe themselves, and willingly accept, or refuse, baptism at their pleasure. " 8. That they had thought, &c. that prayers to saints, or prayers for the dead, were not available, nor allowable, by. God's word, and that souls departed this life do im- mediately go to heaven or hell, or else do sleep till the day of doom : so that there is no place of purgation at all. " 9. That they had thought, &c. that all those, who in the time of king Henry VIII. or in the time of queen Mary, the present sovereign of England, had been burned as heretics, were no heretics, but faithful, sincere Christians ; espe- cially Barnes, Garret, Jerome, Frith, Rogers, Hooper, Cardmaker, Latimer, Taylor, Bradford, Cran- mer,Ridley, &c. and that they did al- low and approve all their opinions, and disapproved their condemna- tions and burnings. " 10. That they had thought, &c. that fasting and prayers used in the church of England, and the appointing a day for fasting, and abstaining from flesh upon fasting days, especially in the time of Lent, is not laudable nor allowable, by God's word, and that men ought to have liberty, at all times, to eat all kind of meats. " 11. That they had thought, &c. that the sacrament of the altar is LOSEBY, RAMSEY, AND OTEIERS. 605 an idol, and to reserve, keep, and honour it, is idolatrj' and super- stition, as was also the mass and elevation of the sacrament. "■ 12. That they had thought, &c. that they vi^ere not bound to be convened before an ecclesiastical judge, concerning matters of faith, nor to make answer at all, espe- cially upon oath on a book." The first, second, third, fourth, fifth, eighth, and ninth articles, they granted in general, excepting that they denied " that souls de- parted do sleep till the day of judg- ment," as mentioned in the eighth article. With respect to the sixth article objected to them, they thought themselves bound to believe the true Catholic church, so far as it instructed them according to God's holy word, but not to follow the determinations of the superstitious church of Rome. Concerning the eighth and twelfth articles, they denied that they ever maintained any such ab- surd opinions, but granted that man of himself, without the aid and assistance of God's spirit, had no power to do any thing ac- ceptable in the sight of God. To the - tenth article they an- swered, that true fasting and prayer, used according to God's word, was allowable, and approved in his sight; and that, by the same word, every faithful man may eat all meats at all times, with thanks- giving to God for the same. Having given these answers, they were dismissed, and conveyed to their respective places of con- finement, where they remained till they were again brought before the bishop, who made no other inquiry, than whether they would abjure their heretical opinions; and on their refusal, again dis- missed them. At length, they were brought into the public consistory court at St. Paul's, and severally asked what they had to allege, why sen- tence of condemnation should not be pronounced against them. Thomas Loseby being first ques- tioned, thus replied, " God give me grase to witlistand you, your sentence, and your hiw, whicli de- vours the flock of Christ, for I perceive death is my certain por- tion, unless I will consent to be- lieve in that accursed idol the mass." Thomas Tliyrtell being next ex- amined, said, " My lord, if you make me an heretic, you make Christ and the twelve apostles all ' heretics, for T hold one and the same faith with them, and I will abide in that faith, being assured that it will obtain for me everlast- ing life. Henry Ramsey being required to recant, answered, '* My lord, would you have me abjure the truth, and, for fear of death here, forfeit eternal felicity hereafter?" Margaret Hyde being question- ed, replied, " My lord, you have no cause to pronounce sentence against me, for I am in the true faith, nor will ever forsake it ; and I wish I was more confirmed in it than I am." Agnes Stanley, the last examin- ed, said, " My lord, I would suf- fer every hair of my head to be burned, before I would renouncs the faith of Christ, and his holy gospel." The court now broke up, but was convened again in the after- noon, when the prisoners were brought in, and were again exa- mined. Thomas Loseby being first called upon, his articles and answers were read ; after which many attempts were made to bring him to a re- cantation, but he persisted in his faith, declaring, that " he hoped he had the spirit of God, which had led him into all truth :" his sentence of condemnation was therefore pronounced, and he was delivered to the custody of the she- riflF, in order for execution. Various arguments were used by the bishop to bring over Marga- ret Hyde ; but she declared she would not depart from what she had said upon any penalty what- ever; and added, that she would 606 BOOK OF MARTYRS. gladly hear his lordship instruct her from some part of God's word, and not talk to her coucerning- holy bread and holy water, which was no part of God's word. The bishop, tinding her resolute, pronounced sentence on her, and she was delivered over to the se- cular power. Agnes Stanley was also admo- nished to return to the communion of the holy mother-church, but she continued steadfast in her faith, declaring she was no heretic, and that those who were burned, as the papists said, for heresy, were true martyrs in the sight of God. In consequence of this she likewise received sentenee of death, and was committed to the care of the sherifl'. Thomas Thyrtell being asked what he had to allege, answered, "My lord, I will not hold with those idolatrous opinions you would inculcate; for 1 say the mass is idolatry, and I will abide by the faith of Christ as long as I live." He was then sentenced in the same manner as the former. . Henry Ramsey, who was last called, being asked whether he would stand by his answers, as the rest had done, or recant and be- come a new member of the church, replied, " I will never abjure my religion, in which I will live, and in which I will die." Their examinations being closed, and sentence of death passed on them all, they were immediately conducted to Newgate, where they continued till the 12th of April, 1557. On the morning of that day they were led to Smithfield, the place appointed for their execu- tion, where, being fastened to two stakes, they were burnt in one fire, praising God as long as they had the power of speech, and cheer- fully giving up their lives in testi- mony of the truth of the gospel. MARTYRDOM OF STEPHEN GRAT- WICK, WILLIAM MORANT, AND JOHN KING. STr.rHF.N Gratwick being in- formed against by the popish emissaries, on a suspicion of he- resy, was apprehended, and being carried before a justice of peace, was committed to the Marshalsea prison, where he continued for a considerable time. At length he was brought before Dr. White, bishop of Winchester, in St. George's church, South- wark, to answer such questions as he should be asked, relative to his religious opinions. The bishop first asked him if he would revoke the heresies which he had maintained and defended; when Mr. Gratwick answering in the negative, he administered the usual articles, desiring him to give an explicit answer to each. The articles being read, Mr. Gratwick replied, " My lord, these articles are of your making, and not of mine, nor have I had any time to examine them; there- fore I desire the liberty of lawful appeal to mine ordinary, having no concern with you." During his examination, the bi- shop of Eochester, and the arch- deacon of Canterbury arrived, when, on a consultation about the present case, it was agreed to in- troduce a person to represent the ordinary, which being done, Grat- wick desired leave to depart, but the counterfeit ordinary insisted on his being detained, saying", that he was justly summoned be- fore those lords, and him, on trial of his faith ; and that, if he con- fessed the truth, he should be quietly dismissed, and allowed full liberty. Gratwick told him, that " he would turn his own argument upon him, for Christ came before the high-priest, scribes, and pha- rlsees, bringing the truth with' him, being the very truth himself; yet both he and his truth were condemned, and had no avail with them; the apostles likewise, and all the martyrs that died since Christ, did the same." The bishop of Winchester then asked his opini^on concerning t\w sa'eram'Pnt of thfl altar; to which STEPHEN GRATWICK AND OTHERS. 607 he replied, " My lord, I do verily believe, that in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, truly adminis- tered in both kinds, according to the institution of Christ, unto the worthy receiver, he eateth mysti- cally, by faith, the body and blood of Christ." The bishop of Rochester ob- served, that this definition was a mere evasion of the principal points, for that he separated the sacrament of the altar from the Supper of the Lord, intimating; thereby, that the former was not the true sacrament ; and also con- demned their method of adminis- tering it in one kind, as well as hindered the unworthy receiver to eat and drink the body and blood of Christ, which, if duly weighed, were points of the highest import- ance, though h© had craftily evaded them. Having entered into closer exa- mination concerning this matter, the counterfeit oidinary ordered the articles to be read again, and Gratwick refusing to make any reply, was threatened with excom- munication; on which he thus ad- dressed himseJf to his examiners: " Since ye thirst for my blood, before ye are glutted with the same, permit me to say a word in my own cause. On Sunday, my lord of Winchester, I was before you, when you took occasion to preach from these words of St. James : ' If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain.' From these words, my lord, by wrested inferences, you slander us poor prisoners, upbraid- ing us with the title of Arians, He- rodians, Sacramentaries, and Pe- lagians. When we stood up to speak in vindication of ourselves, you threatened to cut out our tongues, and caused us to be dragged out of the church by vio- lence; nevertheless I will abide by the truth to the end of my life." The incensed prelate, after va- rious endeavours, by threats and promises, to bring him to a recan- tation, finding that vain, pronounced sentence of condemnation upon him, and he was delivered over to the sheriff, who immediately conducted him to the MarshalSea prison. Here he remained till the latter end of May, 1557, when he was brought to the stake in St. George's Fields, and there cheer- fully resigned up his soul into the hands of him who gave it. Two persons, named William MoRANT, and John King, suffered with him ; but we have no ac- count on record relative to their examinations. MARTYRDOM OF FIVE WOMEN AND TWO MEN AT MAIDSTONE, JUNE 18, 1557. We have stated that after the proclamation in February, 1557, the storm of persecution began iu all places to rage anew, but no where more than in the diocese of Canterbury, as the inquisition was there under the direction of Ri- chard Thornton, bishop of Dover, and the archdeacon of Canterbury, who were so furious against the harmless flock of Christ, that they needed not the proclama°tion to stir up the coals of their burning cruelty, but yet were enabled by it to gra- tify to a greater extent their diabo- lical malice against the believers. We have already given several in- stances of the furious persecutions in this diocese, and we have now to add the following, wherein seven innocents were committed to the flames by these monsters, under the pretence of religion! We shall give the account in the original words of the Martyrologist, as they are curious and interesting. In the next month following, being the 18th day of June, were seven Christian and faithful mar- tyrs of Christ burned at Maidstone, whose names here follow : Joan Bradbridge, of Staple- hurst ; Walter Appleby, of Maidstone ; Petronil, his wife ; Edmund Allin, of Frytenden ; Catherine, his wife ; 608 BOOK OF MARTYRS. John Manning's wife, of Maid- stone ; Elizabeth, a blind maiden. As concerning the general arti- cles commonly objected to them in the public consistory, and the or- der of their condemnation, it dif- fereth not much from the usual manner expressed before, neither did their answers in eflect much differ from the others that suffered under the same ordinary in the aforesaid diocese of Canterbury. Now as touching their answers and manner of apprehension, and their private conflicts with their ad- versaries, I find no great matter coming to my hands, save only of Edmund Allin some intimation is given me, how his troubles came, what was his cause and answers before the justices, as here conse- quently you shall understand. THE EXAMINATION OF EDMUND ALLIN. This Allin was a miller, of the parish of Frytenden, in Kent, and in a dear year when many poor people were like to starve, he fed them, and sold his corn cheaper by half than otliers did ; he also fed them with the food of life, reading to them the scriptures, and inter- preting them. This being known to the popish priests dwelling thereabouts, by the procurement of two of them, namely of John Tay- lor, parson of Frytenden, and Thomas Henden, parson of Staple- hurst, he was soon complained of to the justices, and brought before sir John Baker, knight, who com- mitted both him and his wife to prison, but soon after they were let out, I know not how, and went to Calais ; where continuing some time, he began to be troubled in conscience, and meeting with one John Webb, from Frytenden (who had likewise fled from the tyranny of sir John Baker and parson Tay- lor), said unto him, that he could not be in quiet there, whatsoever the cause was ; " for God," said he, "had something for him to do in England :" and shortly after he returned to Frytenden, whefo was cruel Taylor. This parson being informed that Edmund Allin and his wife were returned, and were not at mass- time in the church ; as he was the same time in the midst of his mass, upon a Sunday, a little before the elevation (as they term it), even almost at the lifting up of his Rom- ish god, he turned to the people in a great rage, and commanded them with all speed to go unto their house, and apprehend them, and he would come unto them as soon as he could. Which promise he well performed, for he had no sooner made an end of Ite, missa est, and the vestments off his back, but presently he was at the house, and there laying hands on the said Allin, caused him again to be brought to sir John Baker, with a grievous complaint of his exhorting and reading the scriptures to the people; and so he and his wife were sent to Maidstone prison. Witnessed by Richard Fletcher, vicar of Crambroke, and John Webb, of Frytenden. No sooner were they in prison, but sir John Baker immediately sent certain of his men to their house, namely, John Dove, Tho- mas Best, Thomas Linley, Pcrcival Barber, with the aforesaid John Taylor, parson of Frytenden, and Thomas Henden, parson of Staple- hurst, to take an inventory of all the goods that were in the house : where they found in the bed-straw a little chest locked with a pad- lock, wherein they found a sack- cloth bag of money, containing the sum of thirteen or fourteen pounds, partly in gold, and partly in silver; which money after being told, and put in the bag again, tirey carried away with them. Besides also they found there certain books, as psalters, bibles, and other writings : all which books, with th€ money, were delivered to the aforesaid priest, Thomas Hen- den, parson of Staplehurst, and afterwards, in the fitlh year of the reign of queen Elizabeth, it was by right law recovered from him EDMUND ALLINT. 609 again, as iu records remainetli to be seen. Thus f^ood Edmund Allin and his wife, bein^ maliciously accused, wrongfully imprisoned, and cruelly robbed and spoiled of ail their goods, Mere brought, as is afore- said, before sir John Baker, the justice, to be examined ; who taunt- ing and reviling him without all mercy and pity, asked him if those were the fruits of liis gospel, to have conventicles, to gather peo- ple together, to make conspiracies, to sow sedition and rebellion ; and thus he began to reason with liim. Baker, Who gave thee autho- rity to preach and interpret ? Art thou a priest? Art thou admitted thereunto? Let me see thy li- cence. 1 iHiiir^"^ i ti 1 1 fflSHlilSfflj 1 j^^pgfc ^^^^^B iiii p' 'jM\ ^Hli/^SR ^^^^^T^^Ex^^aiHiyU p M Uiiracii^a. ■ ^^H mUam I ■pl ^^^^m' - J^TwT'^ ? WsBk '1 ""^ 1 ^B" ■ MBy/ie_^^ aiiiliilii^ - 1 JBaP^*** ' "MliliiiillllilM — King John sun^endering his Civwn te Pandnlph, the Piyjit's Legate. Collins, sir John Baker's school- master, said. Surely he is an ar- rant heretic, and worthy to be burned. Allin. If it pleases your honour to permit me to answer in the cause of my faith, I am persuaded that God hath given nie this au- thority, as he hath given to all other Christians. Why are we called Christians, if we do not follow Christ, if we do not read his law, if we do not interpret it to others that have not so much understand- ing? Is not Christ our Father? FOX'S MABTYBS. Shall not the son follow the father's steps ? Is not Christ onr master ? and shall the scholar be inhibited to learn and preach his precepts ? Is not Christ our Redeemer, and shall we not praise his name, and serve him who hath redeemed us from sin and damnation? Did not Christ, when but twelve years of age, dispute with the doctors, and interpret the prophet Isaiah ? and yet, notwithstanding he was nei- ther of the tribe of Levi, which were priests, but of the royal tribe of Judah, neither had taken any 39 610 BOOK OF MARTYRS. outward priesthood ; wherefore, if we be Christians, we must do the same. Collins. Please your honour, what a knave is this, that compar- eth himself with Christ ! Baker. Let him alone, he will pump out presently an infinite number of heresies. Hast thou any more to say for thyself? Allin. Yea, that I have. Adam was licensed of God, and Abraham was commanded to teach his chil- dren and posterity, and so David teacheth in divers Psalms : and Solomon also preached to the peo- ple, as the book of the preacher very well proveth, where he teach- eth that there is no immortal feli- city in this life, but in the next. And Noah taught them that were disobedient in his days, and there- fore is called " The eighth preach- er of righteousness," in the second epistle of Peter. Also, in the 11th chapter of Numbers, where Moses had chosen seventy elders to help him to teach and rule the rest, Eldad and Medad preached in the tents, wherefore Joshua being of- fended, complained to Moses, that Eldad and Medad did preach without licence. To whom Moses answered, and wished that all the people could do the like. Why should I be long? most of the priests were not of the tribe of Levi and Aaron. Collins. These are authorities of the Old Testament, and there- fore abrogated; but thou art a fool, and knowest no school-points. Is not the law divided into the law ceremonial and judicial? Allin. I grant that the ceremo- nies ceased when Christ came, as St. Paul proveth to the Hebrews, and to the Colossians, where he saith, " Let no man judge you m any part of the Sabbath-day, new moon, or other ceremonies, which are figures of things to come : for Christ is the body." Collins. And are not the judi- cials abrogated by Christ? Allin. They are confirmed. both by Christ in the fifth chapter of Matthew, and by Paul in the first epistle to Timothy. The law, saith he, is not yet set forth for the vir- tuous and godly, but for man- slayers, perjurers, adulterers, and such like. Collins. Thou art an heretic. Wilt thou call the judicials of Moses again? Wilt thou have adultery punished with death ? disobedient children to their pa- rents to be stoned? wilt thou have Legem Talionis? But thou art an ass. Why should I speak Latin to thee, thou erroneous rebel ? shall we now smite out eye for eye, tooth for tooth ? Thou art worthy to have thy teeth and tongue plucked out*. Allin. If we had that law, we should neither have disobedient children, neither false witness bear- ers, nor rufiians. Baker. Master Collins, let us return to our first matter. Why did you teach the people, whom you said you had fed both bodily and spiritually, being no priest? Allin. Because that we are all kings to rule our affections, priests to preach out the virtues and word of God, as Peter writeth, and lively stones to give light to others. For as out of flint stones cometh forth that which is able to set the world on fire ; so out of Christians should spring the beams of the gospel, which should inflame all the world. If we must give a reck- oning of our faith to every man, and now to you demanding it, then must we study the scriptures, and practise them. What availeth it a man to have meat, and will eat none ; or apparel, and will wear none ; or to have an occupation, and to teach none ; or to be a lawyer, and to utter none ? Shall every artificer be suffered, yea and commended to practise his faculty and science, and the Christian forbidden to ex- ercise his? Doth not every lawyer practise his law? Is not every Christian a follower of Christ ? Shall ignorance, which is con- * This very appropriate conclusion to a speech reprobating cr?/e% of punishment, shows the innate barbarity of this mercy- preaching priest's heart. EDMUNt) AtLIN. 611 ^eirined in all sciences, be prac- tised by Christians ? Doth not St. Paul forbid any man's spirit to be quenched ? Doth he prohibit any man that hath any of these gifts, which he repeateth, 1 Cor. xiv. to practise the same? Only he for- biddeth women, but no man. The Jews never forbad any. Read the Acts of the apostles. And tiie re- straint was made by Gregory, the ninth pope of that name, as I heard a learned man preach in king Ed- ward's days. Collins. This villain, please your honour, is mad. By my priesthood I believe that he will say that a priest hath no more au- thority than another man ! Doth not a priest bind and loose 1 Allin. No, my sin bindeth me, and my repentance looseth. God forgiveth sin only, and no priest. For every Christian, when he sin- neth, bindeth himself, and when he repenteth, looseth himself. And if any other be loosed from his sin by my exhortation, I am said to loose him ; and if he per- severe in sin notwithstanding my exhortation, I am said to bind him, although it is God that bindeth, and looseth, and giveth the in- crease. Therefore, saitii Christ, Matth. xviii. "Wheresoever two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them ; and whose soever sins they forgive, they are forgiven, and whose soever they retain they are retained." Neither hath the pope any keys, save the keys of error; for the key that openeth the lock to God's mysteries and salvation, is the key of faith and repentance. And as I have heard learned men reason, St. Austin, Origen, and others are of this opinion. Then they reviled him, and laid him in the stocks all night : where- with some that were better minded, being otfended with such extre- mity, desired Allin to keep his conscience to himself, and to fol- low Baruch's counsel, in the sixth chapter; "Wherefore when ye see the multitude of people wor- shipping them, behind and before, say ye in your hearts, O Lord, it is thou that ought only to be wor- shipped." Wherewith he was persuaded to go to hear mass the next day, and suddenly before the sacring, went out and considered in the church-yard with himself, that such a little cake between the priest's fingers could not be Christ, nor a material body, neither to have soul, life, sinews, bones, flesh, legs, head, arms, nor breast, and lamented that he was seduced by the words of Baruch, which his conscience told him was no scrip- ture, or else had another meaning: after this he was brought again before sir John Baker, who asked why he refused to worship the blessed sacrament of the altar. Allin. It is an idol. Collins. It is God's body. Allin. It is not. Collins. By the mass it is. Allin. It is bread. Collins. How provest thou that? Allin. When Christ sat at his supper, and gave them bread to eat. Collins. Bread, knave ? Allin. Yes, bread, which you call Christ's body. Sat he still at the table, or was he both in their mouths and at the table? If he was in their mouths, and at the table, then had he two bodies, or else he had a fantastical body ; which is an absurdity. Baker. Christ's body was glo- rified, and might be in more places than one. Allin. Then he had more bo- dies than one, by j'our own placing of him. Collins. Thou ignorant ass, the schoelmen say, that a glorified body may be every where. Allin. If his body was not glo- rified till it rose again, then was it not glorified at his last supper; and therefore was not at the table, and in their mouths, by your own reason. Collins. A glorified body occu- pieth no place. Allin. That which ocCupieth no place, is ii»ith6V t*od nor any thiu^ 612 BOOK OF MARTYRS. else. If it be nothing, then is your religion nothing. If it be God, then have we four in one Trinity, which is the person of the Father, of the Son, of the Holy Ghost, the human nature of Christ. If Christ be nothing, which -you must needs confess, if he occu- pieth no place, then is our study vain, our faith frustrate, and our hope without reward. Collins. This rebel will believe nothing but Scripture! How knowest thou that it is the Scrip- ture but by the church? and so saith St. Austin. Allin. I cannot tell what St. Austin saith, but I am persuaded that it is Scripture, by divers ar- guments: First, that the law work- eth in me ray condemnation. The law telletli me, that of myself I am damned; and this damnation, Mr. Collins, you must find in yourself, or else you shall never come to repentance. For as this grief and sorrow of cons^cience, without faith, is desperation ; so is a glorious and Romish faith, without the la- mentation of a man's sins, pre- sumption. The second is the gospel, which is the power and Spirit of God. " This Spirit (saith St. Paul) cer- tifieth my spirit that I am the Son of God, and that these are the Scriptures." The third- are the wonderful works of God, which cause me to believe that there is a God, though we glorify him not as God, Rom. i. The sun, the moon, the stars, and other his works (as David dis- courseth in Psalm xix.) declare that there is a God, and that these are the Scriptures, because that they teach nothing else but God, and his power, majesty, and might; and because the Scripture teach eth nothing disagreeing from this prescription of nature. And, fourthly, because that the word of God gave authority to the church in paradise, saying, that the seed of the woman shall break down the serpent's head. This seed is the gospel; this is all the Scrip- tures, and by this ^e are assured 4 of eternal life ; and by these words, " The seed of the woman shall break the serpent's head," gave authority to the church, and not the church to the word. Baker. I heard say that you spake against priests and bishops. Allin. I spake for them; for now they have so much living, and especially bishops, archdea- cons, and deans, that they neither can nor wiH teach God's word. If they had a hundred pounds a- piece, then would they apply their study ; now they cannot, for their affairs. Collins. Who will then set his children to school? Allin. Where there is now one set to school for that end, there would be forty: because that one bishop's living divided into thirty or forty parts, would find so many men, as well learned as the bi- shops now are who have all this living; neither had Peter or Paul any such revenue. Baker. Let us dispatch him, he will mar all. Collins. If every man had a hundred pounds, as he saith, it would make more learned men. Baker. But our bishops would be angry, if that they knew it. Allin. It would be for the com- mon good to have such bishoprics divided, for the further increase of learning. Baker. What sayest thou to the sacrament? Allin. As 1 said before. Baker. Away with him. Then he was carried to prison,, and afterward burned. And thus much concerning the particular story of Edmund Allin and his wife; who, with the five other martyrs abovenamed, being seven, were burned at Maidstone, the 18th of June, 1557. MARTYRDOMS OF ALICE BENDON, JOHN FISHCOCK, NICHOLAS WHITE, NICHOLAS PARDUE, BAR- BARA FINALL, MARY BRAD- BRIDGE, AND AMOS WILSON. Alice Bendon was the wife of Edward Bendon. of the parish of ALICE BENDON, AND OTHERS. 613 Stablehurst, in the county of Kent. Beings brought before a magis- trate, on an information of heresy, she was asked why she absented herself from church? To wliich she replied, " Because there was much idolatry practised there, ag^ainst the honour and glory of God." In consequence of this answer she was committed to Canterbury castle; but her husband making interest for her enlargement, she was ordered to appear before the bishop of Dover, who asked her if, on condition she was released, she would go to church? To this she did not give a satisfactory an- swer, notwithstanding which the bishop gave her liberty. On her arrival at home, her hus- band admonished her for her con- duct, and advised her to go to church with him; but this she ab- solutely refused: oa which she was again apprehended, and taken before sir John Gitford, who com- mitted her to her former place of confinement. In consequence of this, her hus- band made a second application for her discharge to the bishop of Dover; but in this he failed, tho bishop telling him, she was a most obstinate, irreclaimable heretic, and therefore he could not release her. Her husband then informed his lordship, that if he could keep her brother, Roger Hall, from her, she would conform to the mother- church; whereupon she was re- moved to another prison, and charge given, that if her brother came to visit her he should be ap- prehended. She continued some time in this place without her brother's know- ledge, though he sought diligently to find her, at the hazard of his life. In process of time, he accident- ally found her out, by hearing her voice as he passed by the prison window, when she was repeating a psalm, and bemoaning herself; but fearing to go to her in a public manner, he found a method of conveying to her some money and sustenance, by means of a long stick, with which he reached the window of the prison. In this dungeon she continued nine weeks, without seeing any one but her keeper, lying in her clo(hes upon straw, and having but three-iarthiiigs-worth of bread, a day, allowed for her subsistence, with no other drink but water. This hard usage brought upon her a complication of disorders, insomuch tliat slie could not walk without the greatest pain. After being some time confined in this loathsome prison, the bi- shop summoned her before him, and asked if she would go to church, promising her great fa- vours if she would be reformed, and return to the holy mother- church. To this she answered, " I am verily persuaded, by the great se- verity which you have used to- wards me, that ye be not of God, neither can your doings be godly ; and I see that you seek my utter destruction," She then shewed them how mi- serable and lame she was, by lying so long on the cold ground in that filthy prison, where she was de- prived of the necessaries of life. After this the bishop caused her to be removed from thence to the prison, at the West-gate in Can- terbury, where she had better usage, and continued till the latter end of April following, when she, and the rest of the prisoners, being brought before the commissioners, were severally examined; and on persisting in those principles which their persecutors called he- resy, they received sentence of excommunication, were delivered to the sheriif, and sent back to pri- son. Here they continued till the 19tU of June, when they were all seven brought to the place of execution. Alice Bendon conducted herself with remarkable courage on this melancholy occasion, setting an example to her fellow-martyrs, who kneeled down, joined toga- 614 BOOK OF MARTYRS. ther in praj^er, and behaTed with such zeal and affection, as excited the esteem of their very enemies. Having finished their devotions, and rautaal salutations, they were chained to several stakes, and being encompassed with the flames, tliey quietly yielded up their souls to the Lord, in hopes of a joyful resurrection to life eternal. We have not any particular ac- count of the examinations and suf- ferings of the other six martyrs; but the following anecdote is re- lated of one of them: Mary Brad- bridge had two daughters, the one named Patience and the other Charity; and when she was con- demned to be burnt, she desired the bishop to " take Patience and Charity (meaning her children) and keep them." — " Nay," cried the prelate, with involuntary sin- cerity, " I have nothing to do with either of them." TROUBLES AND EXAMINATIONS OF MATTHEW PLAISE. Matthew Plaise, of the parish of Stone, in the county of Kent, weaver, and a faithful Christian, being apprehended, and impri- soned in the castle of Canterbury, was brought to examination, in the year 1557, before Thornton, bi- shop of Dover, archdeacon Harps- field, commissary Collins, and other inquisitors, when the bishop began by asking him, *' Art thou of the diocese of Canterbury, and where dwellest thou?" Plaise. I am of the parish of Stone, in Kent, and subject to the king and queen of England. Bishop. Thou wert indicted by twelve men at the sessions of Ash- ford, for heresy. Plaise. That is sooner said than proved. Bishop. I have spoken the truth, and can prove it. Plaise. I desire to hear it, and then I will answer to it. Bishop. No, no; you shall an- swer to the article, yea or nay. Plaifie. You cannot prove it: for I was not at Ashford, and therefore you have nothing to lay to my charge ; but now I perceive you go about to lay a net to have my blood. Harpsfield. Peace, peace; we do not desire thy blood, but wc are glad to hear thou art no he- retic; yet thou art suspected of heresy ; and if thou wilt be con- tent to confess how thou dost be- lieve concerning these articles, we shall gladly teach thee. Plaise. I do not think so, for I talked with one of your doctors, and after long talk, he would needs know how I believed in the sacrament, and I recited unto him the text, and because I would not make my exposition to him upon it, he would teach me no- thing: yet I prayed him, for my instruction, to write his mind, and if it were truth I would believe him ; and this I desired of him, for the love of God, but it would not be. Hai-psficld. I dare swear upon a book, that it is not so. Plaise, Nay, I can prove it to be true. Harpsfield. I will tell thee the truth [and he stood up, and made a long speech, in the usnal strain of his party]; I am sure that the same doctor doth believe as I do. Plaise. How do you know that? Seeing St. Paul doth say, That no man knoweth what is in man, but the Spirit which dwelleth in him: but if you knew what Christ meant by these words, " I require mercy and not sacrifice," Matthew xii., you would not kill innocents. Bishop, I charge thee, in the name of the king and queen, and the lord cardinal, to answer yea or nay to the articles. Plaise. I command you, in the name of Him who shall come in flaming fire, with his mighty an- gels, to render vengeance to the disobedient, and to all those that believe not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, who shall be pu- nished with everlasting damnation, that you shall speak nothing but the truth grounded upon Christ MATTHEW PLAISE. 615 aiul his apostles, and then I will answer you, or else not. Bishop. Unless thou wilt an- swer to every article, I will imme- diately condemn thee. Plaise. Well, if you do, you shall be p^uilty of my blood, and prove yourself a murderer. Then the archdeacon took the articles in his hand, and read the second article, which was, That I was a Christian man, and did be- lieve in their mother tiie Catholic church, and the determination thereof. Plaise. I am a Christian man indeed, and therefore you have no- thing against me. Harpsfield. What sayest thou to the Catholic church, which hath so long continued, except it were nine or ten years, that this heresy hath sprung up in this realm? Plaise. No man can accuse me of any thing spoken against the Catholic church of Christ. Bishop. Dost thou not believe the creed ? Plaise. Yes, verily, I believe my creed, and all that is written in the Testament of Christ, with the rest of the Scriptures. Bisliop. Thou dost confess that there is a Catholic church ; I am glad of that; but tell me, are the king and queen of that church, or no? Plaise. Well, now I perceive you go about to be both mine ac- cuser and also my judge, contrary to all right. I confess Christ hath a church upon earth, which is built upon the apostles and prophets, Christ being the head thereof; and as touching the king and queen, I answer, I have nothing to do with any man's faith but mine own: neither came 1 hither to judge, for I judge not myself, but the Lord must judge me. Bishop. Is there no part of that ehurch here in England '. Plaise. Well, I perceive you would fain have something to lay to my charge. I will tell what Christ saith ; Where two or three are gathered together in his name, there is he in the midst of them. Then the archdeacon stood up with his mocks, to put me out of countenance, and said to the peo- ple that I had no wit, but that I thought all they were deceived so longtime, andthathalf adozcnofus should have the truth in a corner, and that alHhey should be deceived, with such like taunts and mocks; but would not sufl'er me to speak one word. Then he read tlie ar- ticle of the sacrament, and said I denied the real presence to be in the sacrament after it was once consecrated, and that I said, Christ's body was in heaven, and no where else, ai\d that the bread was nothing but a sign, token, or remembrance. Plaise. You have to shew me where and what my words were. Hereof we talked a good while. At last the bishop was so angry, that he charged me, in the names of the king, queen, and cardinal, before the mayor and his brethren, taking them to witness, if I did not say yea, or nay, he would con- demn me. Then said I, Seeing you have notliing to accuse me of, why should I answer? Then the archdeacon said I was guilty, and that I was like a thief at the bar, who would not confess his fault because his accusers were not present; with a great many more words, and would not let me open my mouth against him. Then I saw whereabouts they went, gathering to answer them by the word, or else I think they would have condemned me for holding of my peace; and this was my beginning ; I believe that Christ took bread, ^nd when he had given thanks, he brake it, and gave it to his disciples, and said, " Take, eat, this is my body which is given for you; this do in remembrance of me." Harpsfield. Dost thou believe that Christ meant even as lie said? Plaise. Christ was no dis- sembler, but he spake the very truth. 616 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Ilarpsfield, Tbou hast very well said; we will take no advantage of thy words. A long dispute then took place, in the course of which, the arch- deacon said, "he marvelled why I would not believe them, seeing this learning had continued fifteen hundred years: neither yet did say, as others had before, how Christ did call it his body." Plaise. When Cranmer, who was here bishop, was in authority, lie said, he held the truth, and commanded us to believe him, and hath given his life for his opinion, and would you have me believe you, because you say you hold the truth? That which makes nie be- lieve chiefly, is the Scripture, which I am sure is the truth in- deed. Bishop. I have spoken the truth, and you will not believe. Plaise. If you do noi now speak the truth, I am sure you have spoke the truth: [for he had before preached doctrine contrary to tliis.] Then the rest of my articles were read ; which I answered, and in every article he had up this breaden god. And they sent for a lighted candle, and I thought they would have condemned me, but God would not suffer their cruel hearts to have their pleasure then : blessed be his name for evermore, Amen. Then the archdeacon was angry, and began to chide me, because I would not desire a day of the bi- shop, and said, I was a naughty stubborn fellow, and that it had been my duty to have desired him to have been good to me, that I might have a day. Plaise. 1 have spoken the truth ; and therefore will not ask him for a day, except he would give me a day of his own mind. Then the commissary said, Dost thou not think that thou mayest be deceived, seeing he may be de- ceived that hath gone to study all the days of his life ? Plaise. Yea, I might be deceived in that I was a man ; but I was sore God's word could not be de- ceived. Then the commissary prayed me to be content, and to confess that I might learn; and said, they would be glad to teach me. Plaise. I will be as glad to learn as any man. And thus they rose up, and went away, saying nothing. What became of this Matthew Plaise afterwards, whether he died in prison, or was executed, or delivered, we have no certain account. MARTYRDOMS OF RICHARD WOOD- MAN, GEORGE STEPHENS, WILLIAM MAYNARD, ALEXANDER HOSMAN, THOMASIN WOOD, MARGERY MO- RIS, JAMES MORIS, DENNIS BUR- GESS, ANN ASHDON, AND MARY GROVES. Though these ten persons all suffered together, yet we do not find any particulars relative to any of them, except Richard Woodman, who was a considera- ble merchant in the parish of Warbleton, in the county of Sus- sex, and w hose troubles arose from the following incident: There was one Fairbank, who, for some time, had been a married priest, and served the cure of Warbleton, where he urgently persuaded the people not to cre- dit any doctrine but that which he preached, and which was then taught and set forth in the days of Edward the Sixth ; but in the be- ginning of the reign of Mary, Fairbank deserted the reformed principles, and favoured the Rom- ish tenets ; upon which Woodman upbraided him with inconstancy and cowardice, and reminded him how differently he then preached from what he had formerly done. This open and frank behaviour irritated the apostate so much that he caused Woodman to be appre- hended, and being brought before several of the justices of peace for the county of Sussex, he was committed to the King's-Bench prison, where he remained a con- siderable time. WOODMAN, STEVENS, AND OTHERS. 617 At length he and four other pri- soners were brought together to be examined by Bonner, bishop of London, who, after asking them some questions, desired they would be honest men, and profess them- selves members of the true Ca- tholic church, which was built upon the apostles and prophets, Christ being the head of the same. To this they all said, that they were members of the true church, and determined, by God's grace, to continue in the same ; upon which they were all discharged. Mr. Woodman had not 16ng re- turned home, before a report was spread that he had conformed to the church of Rome: but he vin- dicated himself from that asper- sion in several companies ; in con- sequence of which demonstration of his adherence to the protestant faith, complaint was made to sir John Gage, who issued warrants for apprehending him. As he was one day employed in his ordinary occupation, three men arrested him in her majesty's name, and told him he must go with them before the lord' chamberlain. The surprise of the action put him into great consternation, and he desired to go home, in order to put on a dress suitable to appear in before his superiors. On his way homeward he reflect- ed on the unreasonableness of his fear, as they could lay no evil to his charge ; and if they killed him for well-doing, he might think him- self happy. These reflections afforded him courage and comfort: he found that his fears arose from the frailty of human nature, his attachment to his worldly possessions, and his love to his wife and children. But when, on serious considera- tion, he determined, by the grace of God, to die for the sake of Christ and his gospel, he regarded nothing in this world, resolving to give up every thing in defence of the truth of the gospel. When he came to his house, he demanded of the men that arrested him to shew their warrant, that he might know wherefore he was ap- prehended, and be better prepared to answer for himself when he should come before their master. The men, not having any war- rant, were startled at his demand, and Woodman severely reprimand- ed them for oO'ering to take him without. " I heard," said he, " that there were several warrants out against me, but they were called in as soon as I had satis- fied the coumiissioners by letter, that I was not guilty of the things laid to my charge ; therefore set your iiearts at rest, for I will not go with you without a warrant, unless you force me, which do at your peril." On their leaving his house, ho called them back, and told them, if they would produce a warrant he would go with them freely. One of them said he would fetch one that was left at his house ; but while he was gone Woodman es- caped, and absented himself from home three days, during which time they searched his house se- veral times, but could not find him. Mr. Woodman, finding his ene- mies thus resolved on his destruc- tion, prepared himself a convenient cottage in a wood, near his house, where he had pen and ink, and a bible ; and such necessaries as he had occasion for, were daily brought to him. His absence produced a report, that he had left the kingdom, in consequence of which his enemies ceased to search for him, and he embraced this opportunity of visit- ing his friends and brethren ; after which he went over to Flanders, but not liking to be so far from his family, he soon returned to Eng- land. When it was known that he was come home, the curate of the pa- rish, and other popish emissaries, procured warrants to apprehend him. They often searched his house for that purpose, but could not find him, for he had artfully contrived a secret place which they could not discover. 6J8, BOOK OF MARTYRS. At length, through the treachery of his father, and of his brothers, (whom he had told of his hiding- place, and who had great part of his property in their hands, which they basely sought to secure to themselves by sacrificing him) his house was beset in the night, ■which as soon as he discovered, he ran out bare-foot, but unhappily treading upon some stones, he fell down, and being seized, was sent prisoner to London. On the 14th of April, 1557, he was brought before Dr. Christo- phcrson, bishop-elect of Chiches- ter, who told him he was sorry to see him in his present circumstan- ces, as he heard that he v/as a man greatly esteemed in the country where he lived, for his probity and charity ; and at the same time ad- vised him seriously to consider his situation, nor think himself wiser than all the realm, assuring him that he wished to do him much service. Mr. Woodman replied, that so far from esteeming himself wiser than all the realm, he was disposed to learn of every man, that could teach him the truth ; and that, with respect to the general esteem in which he was held by his neigh- bours, he had ever endeavoured to maintain a conscience void of offence. " As for my wife and children," said he, " they are all in God's hand, and I have them all as though I had them not, accord- ing to the words of St. Paul ; but had I ten thousand pounds in gold, I would forego it all, rather than displease my God." When the bishop informed him, that the sheriff applied to him out of respect to his character, he re- plied, that he thought proper to appeal to his ordinary ; " for," said he, " they seek most unrigh- teously to shed my blood, and have laid many things unjustly to my charge. If you can prove, from the word of God, that any of my religious principles are false, I am willing to renounce the same, and stand here desirous of being reformed." After this, several divines con- versed with him on the sacrament of the altar, purgatory, and other popish topics ; when Woodman confuted his opponents with great energy and propriety, asserting, and proving from scripture, that there were but two sacraments ordain- ed by Christ, and observed by him, and his immediate disciples and apostles. Being required, by the bishop of Chichester, to give a plain and full account of his belief concern- ing the sacrament of the altar, he made this explicit confession: "I do believe, that if I came to receive the sacrament of the body and blood of Christ, truly ministered, believing that Christ was born for me, and that he died on the cross for me, and that I shall be saved from my sins by his blood, and receive the sacrament in that re- membrance, then I believe that I do receive the whole Christ, mys- tically, by faith." A few days after this, Wood- man was privately examined by lord Montague's chaplain, who made use of many arguments to bring him over to the Romish faith ; but all his efforts were in- effectual, for Woodman would not yield to any thing that was not founded on the authority of sacred writ. After some time, he was brought before the bishop of Winchester, in St. George's church, Southwark, where several gentlemen and clergy were present, and he was then examined concerning the cause of his imprisonment: to which he replied, it was for speaking to the curate of his pa- rish in the pulpit, and not for he- resy. Being asked what he had to al- lege in vindication of himself from that charge, he cited the following words of the statute : " Whoso doth interrupt any preacher, or preachers, lawfully authorized by the queen's majesty, or by any other lawful ordinary, that all such shall sufler three months imprisonment for so doing ; WOODMAN, STEVENS, AND OTHERS, and furlliermorc, be brous^lit to liio quarter-sessions, and bein-; sorry lor tlio same, shall be released, upon Ills good behaviour, lor one whole year." He then observed, that he had not so oilended against the statute, for the person to whom he spoke was not lawfully authorized, as he had not put away his wife, and, consequently, according: to the law tjjen in force, he had no right to preach. On the 15th of .June, Mr. Wood- man was attain brought before the bishop of Winchester, in St. Sa- viour's church, Southwark, in the presence of the archdeacon of Canterbury, Dr. Langdall, and se- veral other dignitaries. The bishop of Winchester pro- ducing some writings, asked if they were his, to which he replied in the allirmative ; but refused to answer to any articles which that prelate might exhibit against him, because " he was not of his dio- cese, though he was then in it, consequently he had nothing to do with him, who was not his ordi- nary." After- some dispute, the bishop peremptorily asked him, " if he would become an honest man, and conform to the holy mother church?" To which Mr. Woodman replied, "that no person could, with jus- tice, object to his character ; and that he was surprised he should charge him with heresy, as my lord of London had discharged him of all matters that were laid against him on that head." The bishop then observed, " that at the time he was released, perhaps those things were not laid to his charge ; and that, therefore, they were now objected to him, because he was suspected of being an heretic." Mr. Woodman, at length, con- sented to answer to the several ar- ticles exhibited against them, which having done, he distinctly rehears- ed the articles of his belief in the following form : " I believe in one God, the Fa- ther Almighty, maker of heaven 019 and earth, and of all things visi- ble and invisible. And in one Lord Jesus Christ, my Saviour, very God, and Man. I believe in God the Holy Ghost, the comforter of all God's chosen people, and that he is equal with the Father and the Son. I believe the true Catholic church, and all the sa- craments that belong thereto." Being farther asked concerning his belief in the sacrament of the altar, he told them he would an- swer no farther questions, because he perceived they sought to shed his blood. As the bishop of Chichester was not yet consecrated, lie would not undertake, judicially, to examine Woodman, and therefore submit- ted the whole to the bishop of Winchester, who, after many other questions and farther arguments, to bring him over to recant, at length pronounced sentence of condemnation against him, and he was accordingly delivered over to the secular power. About a fortnight after this, Mr. Woodman was conveyed to Lewes, in Sussex, together with his fel- low-martyrs, concerning whose ex- amination (as we have already ob- served) there is not any thing re- corded, except that they had been all condemned for heresy a fevv days after their apprehension. On the 22d of July, 1557, these ten steadfast believers in Christ were led to the place of execu- tion ; and being chained to se- veral stakes, were all consumed in one fire. They died with be- coming fortitude and resignation, committing their departing spirits into the hands of that Redeemer, who was to be their final judge, and who, they had reason to hope, would usher them into the realms of bliss, M'ith " Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the founda- tion of the world." MARTYRDOM OF THE REV. JOHN HULLIER, CAMBRIDGE. John Hullier was descended of reputable parents, who, after giv- 1 620 BOOK OF MARTYRS. ing him a liberal education at a private school, sent him to Eton colleo;e, from whence, .according to the rules of that foundation, he was elected to King's college, Cambridge. After he had been at college about three years, he was admitted to a fellowship, and obtained a curacy at Babram, a village, about three miles from Cambridge. He had not been long here before he went to Lynn, where he had se- veral debates with the papists, who reporting his principles to Dr. Thurlby, bishop of the diocese, he sent for him, and, after a short examination relative to his faith, committed him to the castle of Cambridge. A short time after this he was cited to appear at St. Mary's church, before several doctors both of law and divinity, by whom he was reprimanded for opposing the doctrines of the church of Rome, and maintaining and defending those set forth in the days of Ed- ward VI. His examination being finished, he was required to recant what they termed his erroneous opi- nions; which peremptorily refus- iag, he was degraded, condemned, and delivered over to the secular power, who immediately divested him of all his books, papers, and writings. On the day appointed for his execution, (being Maundy Thurs- day) he was conducted to the stake without the town, at a place called Jesus Green, near Jesus college, where, having made the necessary preparations on the melancholy occasion, he desired the spectators to pray for him, and to bear wit- ness that he died in the faith of Christ, sealing the same with his blood. He likewise assured them he died in a good cause, for the testimony of the truth, and that there was no other rock, but Jesus Christ, to build upon, nor any hope of salvation, but through his death and sufferings. One of the proctors of the uni- versity, and some of the fellows of Trinity college, were offended at his address to the people, and re- proved the mayor for giving him liberty to speak. Of this our mar- tyr took no notice ; but being chain- ed to the stake, he earnestly called upon God for his grace and sup- port, to enable him to undergo the fiery trial. As soon as the fagots were light- ed, a number of books were thrown into the midst of them, and among the rest a communion book, which Hullier catching, joyfully read in it till the flames and smoke pre- vented him from seeing. He then prayed with a loud voice, holding the book as long as he was able, and praising God for sending it to him as a comforter in his last moments. After the spectators thought he had been dead, he suddenly ex- claimed, " Lord Jesus receive my spirit!'' and then quietly expired. His death was greatly lamented by many of the spectators, who prayed for him, and expressed their grief by floods of tears, he having been a man of eminent piety, and the most exemplary virtue. MARTYRDOMS OF SIMON MILLER? AND ELIZABETH COOPER, AT NOR- WICH. Simon Miller was an eminent merchant in the town of Lynn- Regis. He was a godly man, zea- lous for the truth of the gospel, and consequently opposed to the popish religion. Having occasion to go to Nor- wich on business, while there he inquired of some people coming out of church from the popish ser- vice, where he might go and re- ceive the communion, which being reported to chancellor Dunning, he ordered him to appear be- fore him. This summons he read- ily obeyed, when the chancellor asked him several questions, to which answering agreeably to the dictates of his conscience, he was committed prisoner to the bishop's palace. After being some time in con- ELIZABETH COOPER, AND OTHERS. 621 finement, he obtained permission to po home, in order to settle his worldly concerns. On his return he was again examined by the chancellor, who required him to recant his opinions, and return to the holy mother-church; but Mil- ler remaining inflexible in his faith and profession, was condemned as an heretic, and delivered over to the secular power. Elizabeth Cooper (his fellow- martyr) was the vvife of a trades- man in Norwich. She had for- merly been prevailed on to recant the protestant, and embrace the Romish, religion: but being txou- bled in her conscience for so doing, she went one day to St. Andrew's church, where, in the presence of a numerous audience, she stood up, and publicly revoked her recantation. For this she was immediately apprehended, and committed to prison. The next day she was brought before the bishop, when persisting in her faith, he condemned her as a re- lapsed heretic, and delivered her to the sheriff for execution. On the 30th of July, 1557, they were both led to the stake, in a hollow without the city, near Bi- shopsgate. When the fagots were lighted, Elizabeth Cooper ex- pressed some fear; but being en- couraged by the advice and ex- ample of her fellow-martyr, she recovered her fortitude, and they both cheerfully resigned their souls into the hands of their Almighty Father. MARTYRDOMS OF WILLIAM BON- GEOR, THOMAS BENHOTE, WIL- LIAM PURCHASE, AGNES SILVER- SIDE, HELEN EWRING, ELIZA- BETH FOLK, WILLIAM MUNT, JOHN JOHNSON, ALICE MUNT, AND HOSE ALLEN, AT COL- CHESTER. It will be recollected that in a preceding page we gave an ac- count of twenty-two persons who were brought from Colchester to London, and there discharged, on signing a confession. Among these persons were Wil- liam Munt, of Muchbentley, Alice, his wife, and Rose Allen, her daughter; who coming home again, not intimidated by the dan- ger from which they had so re- cently escaped, absented them- selves from the idolatrous service of the popish church, and fre- quented the company of pious men and women, who employed themselves diligently in reading the word of God, and calling on his name, through Christ. This conduct gave so much offence to the wicked priest of the town, called sir Thomas Tye, and others of the bigoted papists, that they made a supplication to the lord Darcy, in the name of the whole parish, which was as follows: " Pleaseth your honourable lordship to be advertised, that we confess whilst your good lordship lay here in the country, the people were stayed in good order, to our great comfort: but since your lordship's departure they have made digression from good order in some places, and, namely, in the parish of Muchbentley, by reason of three seditious persons, William Munt, and his Avife, and Rose, her daughter, who by their feigned submission (as doth ap- pear) were dismissed and sent down from the bishop of London; and since their coming home they have not only in their own persons made manifest their disobedience, in not coming to the church, nor yet observing other good orders, but also most maliciously and sedi- tiously have seduced many from coming to the church, and from obeying all other good orders; mocking also those that frequent the church, and calling them church-owls, and blasphemously calling the blessed sacrament of the altar a blind god, with divers such like blasphemies. In consi- deration whereof, may it please your honour, (for the love of God, and for the tender zeal your good lordship beareth to justice, and the common peace and quietness of 622 BOOK OF MARTYRS. the king and queen's majesty's loving subjects) to award out your warrant for the said William Munt, his wife, and Rose her daughter, that they being attached, and brought before your good lord- ship, we trust the rest will fear to offend (their ringleaders of sedi- tion being apprehended) the quiet- ness of their obedient subjects. " Your daily orators, tlie parish- ioners of Muchbentley, Tho- mas Tye, priest; John Castor, Thomas Chandler, John Barker, Richard Mere, J. Painter, Will. Harris, John Richard, and others." This being done, Tye employed himself and his spies in finding out the secret places where the pro- testants assembled for praying and reading the Scriptures; and having formerly pretended to be of the reformed religion himself, he was acquainted with many of them ; after making what disco- veries he could, he communicated his pious fears and wishes to Bon-r ner in the following letter: "Right honourable lord; after my bounden duty done in most humble wise, these shall be to signify unto your lordship the state of our parts concerning reli- gion. And first, since the coming down of the twenty-two rank he- retics dismissed from you, the de- testable sort of schismatics were never so bold since the king and queen's majesty's reign, as they are now at this present. In Much- bentley, where your lordship is pa- tron of the church, since William Munt, and Alice, his wife, with Rose Allen, her daughter, came home, they do not only absent themselves from the church and service of God, but do daily allure many others away from the same, which before did outwardly shew signs and tokens of obedience. " They assemble together upon the Sabbath-day, in the time of di- vine service, sometimes in one house, sometimes in another, and there keep their private conventi- cles and schools of heresy. Th^ jurates say, the lords' commission is out, and they are discharged of their oath. The quest-men in your archdeacon's visitation al- leged, that forasmuch as they were once presented and now sent home, they have no more to do with them or any other. Your of- ficers say, namely, Mr. Boswel, that the council sent them not home without great considera- tion. I pray God some of your of- ficers prove not favourers of here- tics. The rebels are stout in the town of Colchester. " The ministers of the church are hemmed at in the open streets, and called knaves. The blessed sacrament of the altar is blas- phemed and railed upon in every house and tavern. Prayer and fasting is not regarded. Seditious talks and news are rife both in town and country, in as ample and large a manner, as though no ho- nourable lords and commissioners had been sent for refonnation thereof. The occasion riseth partly by reason of John Love, of Colchester Heath, (a perverse place), which John Love was twice indicted of heresy, and thereupon fled with his wife and household, and his goods seized within the town of Colchester, to the king and queen's majesty's use. Ne- vertheless, the said John is come home again, and nothing said or done to him. Whereupon the he- retics are wonderfully encouraged, to the great discomfort of good and Catholic people, which daily pray to God for the profit, unity, and restoration of his church again: which thing shall come the sooner to pass through the travail and pains of such honourable lords and reverend fathers as your lord- ship is, unto whom T wish long life and continuance, with increase of much honour. From Colchester, December 18. " Your humble beadsman, " Thomas Tye, Priest." When this wicked priest had thus wrought his malice against ROSE ALLEN, AND OTHERS. 628 the people of God, such a strong persecution was raised ii<;ainst these poor people, as oompeiled them for a while to withdraw from its rage ; after a short time, how- ever, lulled into security by its ap- parent cessation, they returned to their house, where they had not long been, when, on the 7th of March, 1557, about two o'clock in the morning, Edmund Tyrrel, (a descendant of the person who murdered king- Edward V., in the Tower of London), assisted by the bailifl' of the hundred, two con- stables, and a great number of other attendants, came to the door, and after alarming the family, told Mr. Munt, that he and his wife must both go with him to Col- chester Castle. This sudden surprise greatly af- fected Mrs. Munt, who was much indisposed in consequence of the cruel treatment she had before re- ceived from the popish party; but after she had a little recovered herself, she desired of Tyrrel that her daughter might be permitted to fetch her something to drink be- fore she went with him. This being granted, Tyrrel took the op- portunity of advising the daughter, as she passed by him, to give her father and mother better counsel, and admonish them to behave more like good Christians, and members of the Catholic church; to which she replied, " Sir, they have a better instructor than me. For the Holy Ghost doth teach them, I hope, which I trust will not suffer them to err." Tyrr. Why, art thou still in that mind, thou naughty house- wife? marry, it is time to look upon such heretics indeed. Rose. Sir, with what you call heresy, do I worship my Lord God; I tell you truth. Tyrr. Then I perceive you will burn, gossip, with the rest, for com- pany's sake. Rose. No, sir, not for com- . pany's sake, but for Christ's sake, if so I be compelled, and I hope in his mercy, if he call me to it, he will enable me to bear it. Then Tyrrel, turning to his com- pany, said, " Sirs, this gossip will burn: what do you think of her?" — " Why truly, sir," said one, " prove her, and you shall see what she will do by and by." The cruel Tyrrel, then taking the candle from her, held her wrist, and the lighted candle under her hand, burning it across the back, till the sinews cracked; during which barbarous operation he said often to her, " Why, w , wilt thou not cry? thou young w — — , wilt thou not cry?" To Avhich she con- stantly answered, that " she thanked God she had no cause, but rather to rejoice. But," she said, " he had more cause to weep than she, if he considered the matter well." At last he thrust her violently from him, with much scurrilous language; of which she took no other notice than by in- quiring, " Sir, have you done what you will do?" To which he replied, " Yea, and if you think not well of it, then mend it." Rose. "Mend it? nay, the Lord mend you, and give you repent- ance, if it be his will; and now, -if you think it good, begin at the feet, and burn the head also: for he that set you on work, shall pay you your wages one day, I war- rant you :" and so went and car- ried her mother drink as she was commanded. Tyrrel then seized William Munt, his wife, and Rose Allen, her daughter, and immediately conducted them to Colchester Cas- tle, together with John Johnson, whom they took in their way, in consequence of an information against him for heresy. They also the same morning ap- prehended six others, namely, William Bongeor, Thomas Ben- hote, William Purchase, Agnes Silverside, Helen Ewring, and Elizabeth Folk; but not choosing to place those with the rest, they sent them prisoners to Mote-hill. After they had been confined a few days, they were all brought together before several justices of the peace, priests, and officers, 624 BOOK OF MARTYRS. (amongst whom were Kingston, the commissary, and Boswell, the bishop of London's secretary) with many others, in order to be exa- mined relative to their faith. The first person called on was William Bongeor, who being exa- mined concerning his faith in the sacrament, replied, that " what they termed the sacrament of the altar was bread, is bread, and re- maineth bread, and was not in the least holier for the consecration." This he affirmed, and at the same time protested against all popish doctrines in general; upon which he immediately received sentence of condemnation. Thomas Benhote also denied the sacrament of the altar, and ab- jured the errors of the Romish church. William Purchase declared, that ■when he received the sacrament of the altar, he received bread to an holy use, and both bread and wine merely as such, but in re- membrance of Christ's death and passion. Agnes Silverside said she ap- proved not of the popish consecra- tion, nor any of the pageantry, ab- surdities, and superstitions of the church of Rome, which was the church of Antichrist. Helen Ewring also renounced all the unscriptural doctrines and practices of the church of Rome. Elizabeth Folk being asked, whether she believed Christ's body to be in the sacrament of the altar, really and substantially; replied, *' she believed it was a substantial and a real lie." The commissioners being in- censed at so abrupt a reply, asked her, " whether, after consecration, tlierc remaineth not the body of Christ in the sacrament?" She answered, that " before consecra- tion, and after, it was bread, and that what man blessed without God's word, was accursed and deemed abominable by that word." They then examined her relative to confession to a priest, going to churefa to hear mass, the authority of the bishop of Rome, See. Unto all which she answered, that " she would neither use, nor frequent any of them, by the grace of God, but did utterly detest them from her very heart and soul." In consequence of this, sen- tence of condemnation was pasesd. on her; immediately after which she kneeled down, lifted up her eyes and hands to heaven, and in an audible voice praised God, that she was deemed worthy to suffer for the testimony of Christ, pray- ing, at the same time, for her per- secutors. William Munt being asked his opinion concerning the sacrament of the altar, said, " it was a most abominable idol, and that if he should observe any part of the po- pish superstition, he should dis- please God, and bring a curse upon himself; and, therefore, for fear of the divine vengeance, he would not bow down to an idol." John Johnson answered to the same effect with Munt; bnt added, that " in receiving the sacrament, according to Christ's institution, he received the body of Christ spi- ritually." Alice, the wife of William Munt, renounced all popish error and su- perstition, and continued stead- fast in the profession of the true faith of Jesus Christ. Rose Allen, who was last called, being examined concerning auri- cular confession, hearing mass, and the seven sacraments, an- swered, that '* they were an abo- mination in the eyes of the Lord, and that she would therefore for fever reject them." She likewise told them, that *' she was no mem- ber of their church, for they were the members of Antichrist, and would have the reward of Anti- christ if they repented not." In consequence of this, sentence was read against her, and she and her companions were all delivered over to the secular power. They continued under confine- ment with much joy and comfort, frequently reading the word of God, and exercising themselves in. ROSE ALLEN, AND OTHERS. 625 fefrent prayer, impatiently wait- ing for their happy dissolution. Bishop Bonner having an ac- count transmitted to him of the condemnation of these ten inno- cent persons, sent down a war- rant for their being burned, and fixed the day for the 2d of August. As the prisoners were confined in dilferent places, it was resolved by the officer, that part of them should be executed in the former, and the rest in the latter part of that day. Accordingly William Bongeor, William Purchase, Tho- mas Benhote, Agnes Silverside, Helen Ewring, and Elizabetli Folk, were brought early in the morning to the place appointed for them to suffer, where every thing was prepared for the barbarous catastrophe. The Burning cf Julius Palmer, John Gwin, and Thomus Berkshire, A. D. 15.i6. AskinCy at Newbery, iw When our martyrs arrived at tbe spot, they kneeled down^ and humbly addressed themselves to Almighty God, tljough tliey were interrupted by their popish ene- mies. Having concluded their prayers, they arose, were fastened to the stakes, and all burnt in one fire. They died with amazing fortitude and resignation, triumphing in the midst of the flames, and exulting in hopes of the future glory that awaited them after their departure from a sinful world. FOX'S MARTYRS. In like manner, in tTte afternoon of the same day, William and Alice Munt, Rose Allen, and John Johnson, were brought to the same place where their fellow-martyrs had suffered in the morning. As soon as they arrived at the fatal spot, they all kneeled down, and, for some time, prayed with the greatest ferveney. After prayers, they arose, and cbeerfHily sub- mitted to be fasteti-ad to the stakes : they then earnestly prayed to God to enable them to endure the fiery trial, exhorted the people to b«- 40 626 BOOK OF MARTYRS. ware of idolatry, and with their latest breath testified tlieir faith in Christ crucified, whom to know is eternal life, and for whom to die is the glory of all his chosen people. MARTYRDOM OF RICHARD CRASH- FIELD. The popish emissaries having laid an information against this pious man, who resided at Wy- mondham, in Norfolk, he was ap- prehended on suspicion of heresy, and being brought before chan- cellor Dunning, was examined concerning the ceremonies of the church, whether he believed them to be good and godly ? Mr. Crashfield replied, he be- lieved as many of them as were founded on the word of God, and authorized by the practice and ex- ample of Chri:;: and his apostles. The chancellor then particularly examined him concerning the cor- poreal presence in the eucharist, to which Crashfield answered, he believed that Christ's body was broken by him upon the cross, and Lis blood shed for his redemption, of which bread and wine are a perpetual remembrance, the pledge of God's mercy, and the seal of his promise to those who faithfully believe in his most holy gospel. Mr. Crashfield was then dis- missed for the present, and sent back to prison; but the next day he was again brought before the chancellor, who asked him if he still persisted in his heretical opi- nions? On his replying in the aflSrma- tlve, and confirming the same by his answers to other questions and articles proposed to him, the chan- cellor stood up, and in the usual form required him to turn from his wicked errors and damnable he- resies, and not be an example of impiety and obstinacy, adding, through his presumptuous reading, he persuaded silly women to em- brace his errors at the hazard of their souls ; and promising him mercy on his compliance with these t«rms Our martyr boldly maintained his faith in the pure doctrines and uncorrupted ceremonies of the church of Christ, telling the arro- gant chancellor, that it was of God, whom he had offended, that he craved mercy, and not of him, who was a sinner like him- self, and therefore incapable of dis- pensing forgiveness, or giving any satisfaction to his precious soul. At length, the chancellor finding him inflexibly attached to his opi- nions and principles, in order to obtain a pretence for condemning him, asked when he was last at his parish church ; and on his an- swering that it was two years past, told him he stood excommunicated, and consequently condemned as an heretic. Mr. Crashfield not making any reply, sentence of death was pass- sed on him, and he was delivered to tlie sherifl' of the county in or- der for execution. A few days after his condemna- tion he was brought to the stake, at Norwich, where, in the presence of numerous spectators, with great patience and constancy, he yielded up his soul to God in testimony of the truth of his most holy word, and in the sure and certain hope of enjoying an everlasting habitation in the heavenly mansions. MARTYRDOM OF MRS. JOYCE LEWIS, AT LICHFIELD. In the beginning of the reign of queen Mary, Mrs. Lewis went to church, heard mass, was confessed, and observed all the ceremonies of the Romish church, till at length it pleased God, by the preaching of a Protestant minister, to convince her of her errors, and convert her to the true faith of the gospel of Christ. What greatly contributed to her conversion was, the burning of Laurence Saunders, a faithful ser- vant of God at Coventry, which we have described in a preceding page. She inquired into the cause of that cruel punishment, and being told it was because he would not receive the mass, she heijan to MRS. JOYCE LEWIS. C27 entertain doubts concerning the truth of a religrion which sanc- tioned snch barbarities, and ac- cordingly applied for satisfaction to one Mr. Glover, who had him- self suffered much for his stead- fast attachment to the truth of the gospel. This good man pointed out to her the errors of the Romish church, proving them to be an- tiscriptural and antichristian, and advising her to make the word of God her constant study, and to regulate her faith and practice by that alone. Mrs. Lewis immediately took his advice, and gave herself up to prayer, and acts of benevolence, determined, by the divine grace, both to do and to believe as much and no more than she was enjoined bj' the word of God. Being one day urged by her husband to go to church, when the holy water was sprinkled about, she turned her back towards it, and strongly expressed her displeasure. This being observed by several of the congregation, an accusation was, the next day, laid against her before the bishop of Lichfield, for despising the sacrament of the church. The bishop sent an officer to summon her to appear before him ; but when he delivered the citation to her husband, he threatened the officer, and holding a dagger to his breast compelled him to eat tlie paper, before he suffered him to depart. This treatment being reported to the bishop, he ordered both Mr. Lewis and his wife to appear be- fore him ; when, after a short ex- amination, he dismissed the hus- band, on his begging pardon for his violent conduct, and offered forgiveness to the wife for the offence she had committed at the church, on the same terms. But she courageously told his lordship, that by refusing holy water, she had not offended God, or any of his laws. Though the bishop was greatly offended at this reply, yet, as she M'as a person of considerable re- pute, he did not proceed immedi- ately against her, but gave her a month to consider of the matter, binding her husband in one bun-* dred pounds, to bring her again to him at the expiration of that time. When the period fixed was near- ly arrived, many of their friends advised her husband, by all means, not to deliver her up, i)ut to convey her to some convenient retirement^ saying, he had better sustain the loss of an hundred pounds, than be instrumental to his wife's de- struction. To these remonstrances the un- natural husband replied, " he would not forfeit his bond for her sake ;" and, accordingly, when the time was expired, he delivered her to the bishop, who, still finding her resolute, committed her to a loath- some prison. She was several times examined by the bishop, who reasoned with her on her not coming to mass, nor receiving the sacrament according to the rituals of the holy church : to this she replied, that " she found not those things in God's word, which he so much urged and mag^ nified as necessary to salvation;" adding, that *' if those things were founded on God's word, she would receive them with all her heart." His lordship told her, " if she would believe no more than was in scripture, she was a damnable he- retic ;" and after much farther dis- course with her, pronounced sen- tence against her as irreclaimable. The concluding scene of this pious woman's life is narrated with so much interesting simplicity by the Martyrologist, that we give it in his own words. In the evening before her suffer- ing, two of the priests of the close of Lichfield, came to the under sheriff's house vihere she lay, arid sent word to her by the "sheriff, that " they were come to her con- fession ; for they would be sorry she should die without." She sent them word again, " she had made a confession to Christ her Saviour, at whose hands she was sure to 628 BOOK OF MARTYRS. have forgiveness of her sins. As conceruiug the cause for M'hich she should die, she had no caUse to confess that, but rather to give most humble praise to God, that he had made her worthy to sutler death for his word: and as con- cerning that absolution that they were able to give unto her, being authorized by the pope, she did defy the same, even from the bot- tom of her heart." Which when the priests heard, they said to the sheriff, " Well, to-morrow her stoutness IwUl be proved and tried : for although perhaps she hath now some friends that whisper in her ears, to-morrow we will see who dare be so hardy as to come near her :" and so they went their ways with anger, that their confession and absolution was nought set by. All that night she was wonder- fully cheerful and merry, with a certain gravity, insomuch that the majesty of the Spirit of God did manifestly appear in her, who did expel the fear of death out of her heart, spending the time in prayer, reading and talking with them that were purposely, come unto her, to comfort her with the word of God. About three o'clock in the morn- ing, Satan, (who never sleepeth, especially when death is at hand) began to stir himself busily, shoot- ing at her that fiery dart, which he is wont to do against all that are at defiance with him, by question- ing her, how she could tell that she was chosen to eternal life, and that Christ died for her. " I grant that he died, but that he died for thee, how canst thou tell ?" Whilst she was troubled with this sugges- tion, they that were about her counselled her to follow the exam- ple of Paul, Gal. ii. where he saith, " Which hath loved me, and given himself for me." Also, that her vocation and calling to the know- led-^e of God's word, was a mani- fest" token of God's love, and de- sire towards God working in her heart, that love and desire towards God, to please him, and to be justified by him through Christ, 8tc. By these and like per- suasions, and especially by the comfortable promises of Christ, brought out of the scripture, Satan was put to flight, and she comforted in Christ. About eight o'clock, Mr. Sheriff came into her chamber, saying these words, " Mrs. Lewis, I am come to bring you tidings of the queen's pleasure, which is, that you shall live but one hour longer in this world : therefore it behov- eth you to prepare yourself for it."^ At which words, being so grossly uttered, and so suddenly, by such an officer as he was, made her somewhat cast down. Wherefore one of her friends and acquaint- ance standing by, said these words : " Mrs. Lewis, you have great cause to praise God, who has vouchsafed so soon to take you out of this world, and made you worthy to be a witness of the truth, and to bear record unto Christ, that he is the only Saviour." After which words, she said, " Mr. Sheriff, your message is wel- come to me, and I thank my God that he has made me worthy to offer my life for his service." At which words the sheriff departed: but in the space of an hour he came back again, with swords and clubs ; and when he came up into her chamber, one of her friends de- sired him to give him leave to go with her to the stake, and to com- fort her, which the sheriff granted at that time ; but afterwards, when she was dead, he was sore troubled for the same. Now when she was brought through the town by a number of bill-men, a great number of people being present, she was led by two of her friends, namely, Mr. Michael Reniger, and Mr. Augustine Bern- her, and so brought to the 'place of execution : and because the place was far off, and the throng of the people great, and she not ac- quainted with the fresh air, (being so long in prison) one of her friends sent a messenger to the sheriff's house for some drink: and after she had prayed three several times, RALPH ALLERTON AND OTHERS, 629 In which prayers she desired God most instantly to abolish the idol- atrous mass, and to deliver tiiis realm from popery (at the end of which prayers most part of the people cried, "Amen!" yea, even the sheriff that stood hard by her, ready to cast her into the tire for not allowing the mass, at this her prayer said with the rest of her people, " Amen !") ; when she had thus prayed, she^ook the cup into her hands, saying, "I drink to all them that unfeignedly love the gospel of Jesus Christ, and wish for the abolishment of popei-y." When she had drank, they that were her friends drank also. After that a great number, especially the women of that town, drank with her, who afterwards were put to open penance in the church by the cruel papists, for drinking with her. When she was chained to the stake, she shewed such cheerful- ness, that it passed man's reason, being so m ell coloured in her face, and being so patient, that most of them that had honest hearts were moved, and even with tears be- wailed the tyranny of the papists. When the fire was set to her, she made no other resistance than by lifting up her hands towards hea- ven, being dead very soon: for the under sheriff, at the request of her friends, had provided such stuff, that she was suddenly dispatched out of this miserable world. This, amongst other things, is not to be forgotten, that the papists had appointed some to rail upon her, and to revile her, both as she went to the place of execution, as also when she went to the stake. Amongst others there was an old priest, who had a pair of writing tab-Ies, wherein he set down the names of those women that drank of the cup (as before mentioned), and also described her friends by their apparel, for he could not pre- sently learn their names, and after- wards inquired for them : and so immediately after process was sent for them, both to Coventry and other places : but God, whose pro- vidence sleeps not, did defend them from the hands of these cruel tyrants. Unto which God, with the Son and the Holy Ghost, be honour and glory for ever, Amen. MARTYRDOMS OF RALPH ALLERTON, JAMES AWSTOO, MARGERY AWS- TOO, AND RICHARD ROTH, AT ISLINGTON. Mr. Ralph Allerton, being in- formed against by several bigoted papists in the neighbourhood where he lived, was apprehended on sus- picion of heresy ; and after un- dergoing a short examination be- fore a magistrate, was committed to prison. A few days after he was brought before lord Darcy, at Colchester, who accused him not only of ab- senting himself from church, but also that, by preaching, he had persuaded others to follow his ex- ample. To this Mr. Allerton made the following confession : that coming to his parish church, and finding the people sitting there, some gazing about, and others talking on unprofitable subjects, he ex- horted them to pray, meditate on God's word, and not sit idle, to which they willingly consented ; and after prayer, he read a chap- ter to them in the New Testament. This he continued to do for some time, till he was informed his pro- ceedings were contrary to lasv, as he was neither priest nor minister; upon which he desisted. He likewise confessed, that he was taken up for reading in the parish of Welly ; but when those that apprehended him understood he had read but once, and that it was an exhortation to obedience, they let him go ; after which, being afraid, he kept in woods, barns, and solitary places, till he was ap- prehended. After this examination, lord Darcy sent him to London to the commissioners, by whom he was referred to bishop Bonner, who persuaded him publicly to recant 630 BOOK OF MARTYRS. his profession at St. Paul's church, and then dismissed him; where- upon he returned into the country. He was greatly troubled in his conscience for what he had done, earnestly repented of the same, and openly professed the faith he had so weakly revoked, till Tho- mas Tye, priest of the parish, (who had formerly been a professor of the truth, but was now a perse- cutor) caused him to be appre- hended, and again brought to the bishop of London, on the 8th of April, 1557, when the following ex- amination took place. Bonner. Ah, sirrah ! how chanc- eth it that you are come hither again on this fashion? I daresay thou art accused wrongfully. Ralph. Yea, my lord, so I am. For if 1 were guilty of such things as I am accused of, then I would be very sorry. Bonner. Go on, let me hear thee ; for I did not believe the tale to be true. Ralph. My lord, who did accuse me ? I pray you let me know, that I may answer thereunto. Bonner. If thou hast not dis- sembled, then thou needest not be afraid, nor ashamed to answer for thyself. But tell me in faith, hast thou not dissembled ? Ralph. If I cannot have mine accusers to accuse me before you, my conscience doth constrain me to accuse myself: for I have griev- ously offended God in my dissimu- lation, at my last being before your lordship, for which I am very 3orry. Bonner. Wherein, I pray thee, didst thou dissemble, when thou wast before me ? Ralph. Forsooth, my lord, if your lordship remember, I did set my hand to a certain writing, the contents whereof (as I remember) were. That I believe in all things as the Catholic church teacheth, &c. In which I did not disclose ray mind, but shamefully dissem- bled, because I made no difference between the true church and the lintvue church. Bonner. That is well said of thee. For if thou hadst allowed the church of heretics, I vi'ould have burned thee with fire for thy labour. But which is the Catholic church ? Ralph. Even that which hath received the wholesome sound, spoken of by Isaiah, David, Ma- lachi, and Paul, with many other more. Which sound hath gone throughout all the earth, and unto the ends of the world. Bonner. Yea, thou sayest true before God. For this is the sound that hath gone throughout all Christendom, and he that believeth not the sound of the holy church, as St. Cyprian saith, doth err. Ralph. My lord, if you re- member, I spake of all the world, as it is written, and not of all Christendom only, as methinks your lordship takes it, which kind of speaking you do not find in all the Bible. For I am sure, that the gospel hath been both preached and persecuted in all lands. For true it is that the church which you call Catholic, is none other- wise Catholic than was figured in Cain, observed of by Jeroboam, and others of that description. Bonner. Now, by the blessed sacrament of the altar, he is the rankest heretic that ever came be- fore me. Ralph. My lord, there are in England three religions; as you have said, there are more of my opinion. Bonner. Sayest thou so ? Which be these three ? Ralph. The first is that which you hold ; the second is clean con- trary to the same ; and the third is a neuter, being indifferent: that is to say, observing all things that are commanded outwardly, as though he were of your part, his heart being set wholly against the same. Bonner. And of these three which art thou? For now thou must needs be ©ne of them. Ralph. Yea, my lord, I am of one of them ; and that which I 3 RALPH ALLERTON AND OTHERS. 631 am of, is even that which is con- trary to that which you teach to be believed under pain of death. The bishop was incensed at this reply, and immediately committed Allerton to the prison called Little- Ease, at Guildhall, London, where he remained all night, and the next morninj? being again brought before the bishop, the dean of St. Paul's, and the chancellor of the diocese, some writings which he had signed were brought forward, and Bonner asked him, " Is not this your hand, and this, and this r Allerton. Yea, they are my hand all of them ; I confess the same ; neither yet will I deny any thing that I have set my hand unto. And I believe the scripture to be true, and in defence of the same I intend to give my life, ra- ther than 1 will deny any part thereof, God willing. Bonner. Is not this thine own hand? Allerton. Yes, my lord, it is mine own hand, neither am I ashamed thereof, because my con- fession is agreeable to God's word. Tye, (the Priest.) My lord, he is a very seditious fellow, and per- suadeth other men to do as he himself doth, contrary to the or- der appointed by the queen's highness and the clergy of this realm. Allerton. As I said before, so say T now again ; thou art not of the church of Christ, and that I will prove, if I may be sufl'ered. You commanded the constable to apprehend me, contrary to the laws of this realm, having neither treason, felony, nor murder to lay to my charge : no, neither had you precept, process, nor warrant to serve on me ; and therefore I say, without a law was I apprehended. And whereas you seek to trouble the constable, because he kept me not in the stocks three days and three nights, it doth shew in part what you are. And if I had run away, then you would surely have laid somewhat to his charge. Bonner. Thou knowest Kichard Roth, dost thou not? Is he of the same mind that thou art of, canst thou tell ? Allerton. He is of age to an- swer, let him speak for himself, for I hear say that he is in your house. Bonner. Tell me then, briefly, at one word, wilt thou be contented to go to Fulham with me, and there to kneel down at mass, shew- ing thyself outwardly as though thou didst it with a good will ? Come, speak. Allerton. I will not say so. Bonner. Away with him, away with him ! He was then remanded to pri- son, and on the second of May was brought again before the bi- shop, and three noblemen of the council, when Bonner asked, "Doth not Christ say. This is my body? How sayest thou? Wilt thou deny these words of our Sa- viour Christ? Or was he a dissem- bler, speaking one thing and mean- ing another?" Allerton. My lord, I marvel why you leave out the beginning of the institution of the supper of our Lord. For Christ said, "Take ye, and eat ye, this is my body." And if it will please you to join the former words to the latter, then shall I make you an answer. For sure I am, that Christ was no dissembler, neither did he say one thing, and mean another. Bonner. Why, then must thou needs say that it is his body ; for he saith it himself, and thou con- fessest that he will not lie. Allerton. No, my lord; he is true, and all men are liars. Let these words go before, " Take ye, and eat ye ;" without which words the rest are not sufficient ; but when the worthy receivers do take and eat, even then are fulfilled the words of our Saviour unto him, or every of them that so re- ceiveth. The bishop, after severely re- primanding him, dismissed him for the present, and he was re- conducted to prison- On the l''-^'* ot' May he was 632 BOOK OF MARTYRS. again brou^t before Bonner, at his palace in London, where the following articles were exhibited against hira : 1. That he was of the parish of Much-Bentley, in Essex, and of the diocese of London. 2. That on the lOlh of January last past, Mr. John Mordant preaching at St. Paul's, London, the said Ralph Allerton did there openly submithimself to the church of Rorae, with the rites and ce- remonies thereof. 3. That he did consent and sub- scribe, as well unto the submission, as also to one other bill, in the which be granted, that if he should, at any time, turn again unto his former opinions, it should be then lawful for the bishop immediately to denounce and adjudge him as an heretic. 4. That he had subscribed to a bill wherein he affirmed, that in the sacrament, after the words of consecration be spoken by the priest, there remaineth still mate- rial bread and material wine ; and that he believed, that the bread is the bread of thanksgiving, and the memorial of Christ's death ; and that, when he received it, he re- ceived the body of Christ spiritu- ally in his soul, but material bread in substance. 5. That he had openly affirmed, and also advisedly spoken, that which is contained in the said former fourth article, last before specified. 6. That he had spoken against the bishop of Rome, with the see and church of the same, and also against the seven sacraments, and other ceremonies and ordinances of the same church, used then within this realm. 7. That he had allowed and com- mended tlie opinions and faith of Mr. Cranmer, Ridley, Latimer, and others, of late burnt within this realm, and believed their opi- nions to be good and godly. 8. That he had divers times af- firmed, that the religion used with- in this realm, at the time of his apprehension, TV*** neither good nor agreeable to God's word, and that he could not conform himself thereunto. 9. That he had affirmed, that the book of common prayer, set forth in the reign of king Edward VI. was, in all parts, good and godly : and that the said Ralph, and his company, being prisoners, did daily use, among themselves, in prison, some part of the same book. 10. That he had affirmed, that if he were out of prison he M'ould not come to mass, matins, nor even-song ; nor bear taper, candle, nor palm; nor go in procession; nor would receive holy water, holy bread, ashes, or pix, nor any other ceremony used within this realm. 11. That he had affirmed, that if he were at liberty he would not confess his sins to any priest, to receive absolution of him, nor yet would receive the sacrament of the altar, as it was then used. 12. That he had affirmed, that praying to saints, and prayers for the dead, were neither good nor profitable, and that a man is not bound to fast and pray, but at his own will and pleasure ; neither that it is lawful to reserve the sa- crament, nor to worship it. 13. That the said Ralph Allerton hath, according to these affirma- tions, abstained and refused to come unto his parish church, ever since the 10th of .January last, or to use, receive, or allow any ce- remonies, sacraments, or other rites then used in the church. To these articles Allerton, in general, answered in the affirma- tive, objecting only to that clause in the 12th, " that a man is not bound to fast and pray, but at his own will and pleasure ;" confessing, at the same time, that he had nei- ther fasted nor prayed so frequently as it was his duty to have done. Many arguments were used by Dr. Darbyshire, the bishop's chan- cellor, and others, to bring him to a recantation ; but all proving inef- fectual, he was sent back to prison. A. few days after, he, with his RALPH ALLERTON AND OTHERS. M$ 'lellow-prisoncr, were ordered to appear before bishop Bonuer, at Fiilham, where, in his private cha- pel, he judicially propounded to them various artichs, the particu- lars of which were addressed to Allerton, in tlie following: form : " Thou, Ralph Allerton, canst not deny but that the information given against thee, and remaining now in the acts of this court of thine ordinary Edmund Bonner, bishop of London, was, and is, a true information." The substance of the information was this : That one Lawrence Edwards had a child unchristened, and Mr. Tye, the curate, asked him, wliy his child was not baptized ? Ed- wards replied. It should be bap- tized when he could find one of his own religion. Mr. Tye told him, he had im- bibed those notions from some busy people, who go about to spread heres}'. Edwards acknow- ledged he had, telling him, at the same time, if his doctrine was bet- ter he would willingly receive it. He then produced Allerton, to whom the curate said, if he had instructed Edwards, it was against God's commandments to enter into the church. On this, Aller- ton thus addressed the people who were present: " O good people, now is fulfilled the saying of the priest and prophet Esdras, viz. The fire of a multitude is kindled against a few, they have taken away their houses, and spoiled their goods. Which of you have not seen this day ? Who is here among you that seeth not all these things done upon this day ? The church, unto which they call us, is the church of Antichrist, a perse- cuting church, and the church mili- tant." This was the cause of his being apprehended, and sent to the bi- shop of London. He was also charged with writ- ing several letters, and other pa- pers, which were found on him in prison. He confessed, when they were produced, that lie had writ- ten them, and that they were in- tended to be sent to some persons who were in prison for the sake of the gospel, at Colchester, where they were afterwards burnt. Allerton was then dismissed, and the examination deferred to the afternoon, when several other ar- ticles were objected to him ; but these being mostly false, he re- fused to answer to them. He granted, indeed, that he disap- proved of the mass, and other ceremonies, which were contrary to the express word of God. When the decree of pope Inno' cent III. concerning the sacrament of the altar, was read to him by the bishop, he declared he regard- ed it not, nor was it necessary that any man should believe it. When Bonner asked him what he had to allege why sentence of condemnation should not be pass- ed upon him, he briefly answered, " My lord, you ought not to con- demn me as an heretic, for I am a good Christian : but do as you have determined, for I perceive that right and truth are suppressed, and cannot now appear upon earth." In consequence of this answer he was condemned as an heretic, and immediately delivered over to the secular power. James Awstoo, and Margery his wife, were next examined, when the bishop, among other things, asked the former if he had been confessed in Lent, and had receiv- ed the sacrament at Easter .' Mr. Awstoo replied, he had been confessed by the curate of Allhal- lows Barking, near the Tower of London; but that he had not re- ceived the sacrament of the altar, because he detested it as an abo- minable idol. The bishop then asked Mrs. Awstoo, if she approved of the re- ligion then used in the church of England? She replied in the ne- gative, declaring it to be corrupt and antiscriptural ; and that those who conformed to it were infla- 634 BOOK OF MARTYRS. enced rather by fear, than by a con- viction that it was founded on the ■word of God. Being required by the bishop to go to church, hear mass, and pray for the prosperity of the queen, she declared her abhorrence of the mass, and that she would not come into any church where there were idols. The bishop then made use of the most forcible arguments he could devise to induce them to re- cant ; but they both persisted in their faith and profession, renounc- ing all popish doctrines and prac- tices ; in consequence of which they received sentence of condemna- tion, and were delivered into the hands of the sheriff, in order for execution. Richard Roth, the last person examined, was strongly urged by the bishop to acknowledge the seven sacraments, and the corpo- real presence in the eucharist. But he briefly replied, that if those doctrines were taught in the holy scriptures, he would believe them ; being otherwise, he must reject them. Being examined more particu- larly concerning the sacrament of the altar, and other points, he plainly declared, that in that ce- remony there was not the very body and blood of Christ; but that it was a dead god, and that the mass was abominable, and contrary to God's holy word and will; from which faith and opinion he was determined, through the strength of divine grace, never to depart. He was afterwards accused of being an encourager of heretics, and that he had written letters to certain persons, who were burnt at Colchester; the latter of which charges he frankly acknowledged. Being asked his opinion of Ralph Allerton, he answered, that he esteemed him a sincere ser- vant of God ; and that if hereafter, at any time, he should be put to d«ath for his faith and religion. he believed he would die a mar- tyr for the cause of Christ, and the truth of his gospel. He was then asked, if he ap- proved of the order and rites of the church at that time used in England? To which he answered in the negative, declaring, that he utterly abhorred them. In consequence of this he received sentence of death, and was imme- diately delivered to the sheriff for execution. On the 17th of September, 1557, these four steadfast believers in Christ v.rere conducted to Isling- ton, (the place appointed for their execution) where they were fast- ened to two stakes, and consumed in one fire. They all behaved in a manner truly consistent with their situation, and becoming of the real followers of Jesus Christ, cheerfully resigning up their souls in testimony of the truth of his most holy word. The following are among the letters which Allerton and Roth were charged with having written : FROM RALPH ALLERTON UNTO AGNES SMITH, WIDOW. Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ, with the assist- ance of God's Holy Spirit, and the abundant health both of soul and body, I wish unto you, as to my own soul, as God knoweth, who is the searcher of all secrets. Forasmuch as it pleaseth Al- mighty God, of his infinite mercy, to call me to the state of grace, to suffer martyrdom for Jesus Christ's sake, although heretofore I have most negligently dallied therewith; and therefore far unworthy I am of such an higli benefit, to be crowned with the most joyful crown of martyrdom: neverthe- less, it hath pleased God not so to leave me, but hath raised me ac- cording to his promise, which saith, *' Although he faJl, yet shall he not be cast down ; for the Lord upholdeth him with his hand," Psalm xxxvii. Wherefore we RALPH ALLERTON AND OTHERS. 63$ perceive God's election to be most sure, for undoubtedly he will pre- serve all those that are appointed to die. And as he hath bef]:;un this work in me, even so do 1 believe that he will finish the same, to his great glory, and to my wealth, through Jesus Christ, so be it. Dearly beloved sister (I am constrained so to call you, because of your constant faith and love unfeigned), consider, that if we be the true servants of Christ, then may not we in any wise make agreement with his enemy Anti- christ. For there is no concord and agreement between them, saith the Scriptures; and a man cannot serve two masters, saith Christ. And also it is prefigured unto us in the old law, where the people of God were most straitly commanded that they sliould not mingle themselves with the un- godly heathen, and were also for- bidden to eat, drink, or to marry with them. For as often as they did either marry unto their sons, or take their daughters unto them, or to their sons, even so often came the great and heavy wrath of God upon his own people, to over- throw both them and all their cities, with the holy sanctuary of God; and brought in strange princes to reign over them, and wicked rulers to govern them, so that they were sure of hunger, sword, pestilence, and wild beasts to devour them. Which plagues never ceased, until the good peo- ple of God were clean separated from the wicked idolatrous people. Oh, dearly beloved, this was written for our learning, that we, through patience and comfort of the Scriptures, might have hope. And is it not in like case happened now in this realm of England? For now are the people of God had in derision, and trodden under foot, and the cities, towns, and houses where they dwelt, are inha- bited with them that have no right thereunto, and the true owners are spoiled of their labours: yea. and the holy sanctuary of God's most blessed word is laid desolate and waste, so that the very foxes run over it, &c.; yet is it the food of our souls, the lantern of our feet, and the light unto our paths; and where it is not preached, the peo- ple perish. But the prophet saith, " He that refraineth from evil, must be spoiled," Isai. lix. Why should men then be ashamed to be spoiled, seeing that it is told to us before, that it must so happen unto them that refrain from evil? And thus I bid you farewell in God. Ralph Allerton. to richard roth, his fellow- MARTYR. The angel of God pitch his tent about us, and defend us in all our ways, Amen, Amen. O dear brother, I pray for you : for I hear say that you have been divers times before my lord in ex- amination. Wherefore take heed for God's sake what the wise man teacheth you, and shrink not away when you are enticed to confess an untruth, for hope of life, but be ready always to give an answer of the hope that is in you. For who- soever confesseth Christ before men, him will Christ also confess before his Father- But he that is ashamed to confess him before men, shall have his reward with them that do deny him. And therefore, dear brother, go for- ward : j'ou have a ready way, so fair as ever had any of the pro- phets or apostles, or the rest of our brethren, the holy martyrs of God. Therefore covet to go hence with the multitude, while the way is full. Also (dear brother) un- derstand that I have seen your let- ter, and, although I cannot read it perfectly, yet I partly perceive your meaning therein, and very gladly I would copy it out, with certain comfortable additions thereunto annexed. The which as yet will not be brought to pass for lack of paper, until my lord be gone from hence, and then your request shall be accomplished, God willing, without delay. Thus fare yoa well in God. Our dear 636 BOOK OF MARTYRS. brother and fellow in tribulation, Robert Allin, salutetb you, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost be with you, Amen. Ralph Allerton. P. S. Do you suppose that our brethren and sisters are not yet dispatched out of this world? I think that either they are dead, or shall be within these two days. FROM RICHARD ROTH TO HIS FRIENDS AT COLCHESTER. O DEAR brethren and sisters, how much reason have you to re- joice in God, that he hath given you such faith to overcome this blood-thirsty tyrant thus far! And no doubt he that hath begun that good work in you, will fulfil it unto the t nd. O dear hearts in Christ, what a crown of glory shall ye receive with Christ in the king- dom of God! O that it ha&l been the good will of God that I Isad been ready to have gone with you. For 1 lie in my lord's Little-ease in the day, and in the night 1 lie in the Coal-house, from Ralph Al- lerton, or any other: and we look every day when we shall be con- demned. For he said, that I should be burned within ten days before Easter; but I lie still at the pool's brink, and every man goeth in before me; but we abide pa- tiently the Lord's leisure, with many bonds, in fetters and stocks ; by which we have received great joy of God. And now fare you well, dear brethren and sisters, in this world, but I trust to see you in the heavens, face to face. O, brother Munt, with your wife and ray sister Rose, how blessed are you in the Lord, that God hath found you worthy to suffer for his sake! with all the rest of my dear brethren and sis- ters, known and unknown. O be joyful even unto death. Fear it not, saith Christ, for I have over- come death. O, dear hearts, seeing that Jesus Christ will be our help, O, tarry you the Lord's leisure. Be strong, let your hearts be of good comfort, and wait you still for the Lord. He is at hand. Yea, the angel of the Lord pitch- eth his tent round about them that fear him, and delivereth them which way he seeth best. For our lives are in the Lord's hands; and they can do nothing unto us before God suffer them. Therefore give all thanks to God. O dear hearts, you shall be clothed in long white garments upon the mount of Sion, with the multitude of saints, and with Jesus Christ our Saviour, which will never forsake us. O blessed vir- gins, ye have played the wise vir- gins' part, in that you have taken oil in your lamps, that ye may go in with the bridegroom when he com- eth, into the everlasting joy with him. But as for the foolish, they shall be shut out, because they made not themselves ready to suffer with Christ, neither go about to take up his cross. O, dear hearts, how precious shall your death be in the sight of the Lord! For dear is the death of his saints. O fare you well, and pray. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen, Amen. Pray, pray, pray. Written by me, with my own blood. Richard Roth. martyrdom of agnes bongeor and margaret thurston, at colchester. In a preceding page we have given an account of ten persons who suffered martyrdom at Col- chester; two other women, Mar- garet Thurston, and Agnes Bon- geor, were likewise condemned, at the same time and place, and for the same cause. But Margaret Thurston, on the morning that she should have suffered with the others, was for that time deferred, by the following circumstances, which she afterwards related to Joan Cook, a fellow-prisoner, a few hours before her death. This Moman having asked Margaret why she should be reserved when the others suffered? she answered, " That it was not for any fear of 1 AGNES BONGEOR AND MARGARET THURSTON. 637 deatli ; but being prepared, as the rest were that suffered the same day, she was taken with a great shivering and trembling of the flesh ; whereupon, forsaking the company, she went aside to pray ; and whilst she was praying, she thought she was lifted up by a mighty wind that came round about her. Even at that instant came in the gaoler and company with him, and whilst she turned herself to fetch her psalter, they took the other prisoners and left her alone. Shortly after she was moved out of the castle, and put into the town prison, where she continued until Friday seven-night after her company was burnt." That day, not two hours before her death, she was brought to the castle again, where she told this to the said Joan Cook. The other woman, named Agnes Bongeor, who should have suffered in like manner with the six that went out of Mote-hall, was also kept at that time, because her name was wrongly spelled in the writ. The following is the Martyrolo- gist's account of the closing scenes of this good woman's life : The same morning, the second of August, that the said six in Mote-hall were called out to go to their martyrdom, Agnes Bongeor was also called with them, by the name of Agnes Bower. Wherefore the bailiffs, understanding her to be wrong named within the writ, commanded the said Agnes Bon- geor to prison again, and so that day sent her from Mote-hall to the castle, where she remained till her death. But when she saw herself sepa- rated from her fellow-prisoners in such a manner, oh ! what piteous complaints that good woman made; how bitterly she wept, what strange thoughts came into her mind, how naked and desolate she esteemed herself, and to what a plunge of despair and care her poor soul was brought, it was both sad and moving to behold; and all because she went not with them to give up her life for the cause of Christ ; for of all things in the world, life was the least thing tliat she ex- pected. For the morning, on vviiich she was kept back from burning, she had put on a smock that she had prepared only for that pur- pose, And also having a child, a little young infant suckling on her, who she kept with her tenderly all the time she was in prison, that day likewise did she send away to another nurse, and prepared her- self presently to give hereself for the testimony of the glorious gos- pel of Jesus Christ. So little did she look for life, and so greatly did God's gifts work in her above na- ture, that death seemed much bet- ter welcome than life. But this took not effect at that time as she thought it would, and therefore (as I said) she was greatly trou- bled. But in this great perplexity of mind, a friend of her's came to her, and required to know whe- ther Abraham's obedience was ac- cepted before God, for that he did sacrifice his son Isaac, or in that he would have offered him ? Unto which she answered thus : "I know," said she, "that Abra- ham's will before God was allowed for the deed, in that he would have done it, if the angel of the Lord had not stayed him: but I," said she, "am unhappy; the Lord thinketh me not worthy of this dignity, and therefore Abraham's case and mine are not alike." " Why then," said her friend, " would you not willingly have gone with your company, if God should so have suffered it?" " Yes," said she, " that I would with all my heart, and because I did not, it is now my chief and greatest grief." "Then," said her friend, "my dear sister, I pray thee consider Abraham and thyself well, and thou shalt see thou dost nothing differ with him in will at all." " Alas !" said she, " there is a far greater matter in Abraham ^38 BOOK OF MARTYRS. than in me ; for Abraham was tried with the otfering of his own child, but so am not I ; and therefore our cases are not alike." " Good sister," said her friend, " weigh the matter but indifle- rently. Abraham, I grant, would have offered his son : and have not you done the like in your little sucking babe ? But consider fur- ther than this, my good sister, where Abraham was commanded but to offer his son, you are heavy and grieved because you offer not yourself, which goeth somewhat more near you than Abraham's obedience did ; and therefore be- fore God, assuredly, is no less ac- cepted and allowed in his holy presence ; which further the pre- paring of your shroud also doth argue full well," &;c. After which talk between them, she began a little to stay herself, and gave her whole exercise to reading and prayer, wherein she found a great deal of comfort. During the time that these afore- said two good women were prison- ers, one in the castle, and the other in Mote-hall, God by a secret means called the said Margaret Thurston unto his truth again ; who having her eyes Opened by the working of his Spirit, did greatly sorrow and lament her backsliding before, and promised faithfully to the Lord, in hope of his mercies, never more while she lived to do the like again, but that she would con- stantly stand to the confession of the same, against all the adversa- ries of the cross of Christ. After which promise made, came in a short time a writ from London for the burning of them, which"was accordingly executed the I7th day of September, in the year afore- said. Now when these aforesaid wo- men were brought to the place at Colchester, where they should suf- fer, they fell down upon their knees, and made their humble prayers to God, which being done, they rose and went to the stake joyfully, and were immediately chained thereto, and after the firfl had encompassed them about, they with great joy and glorious triumph gave up their souls, spirits, and lives, into the hands of the Lord, under whose government and pro- tection, for Christ's sake, we be- seech him to grant us his holy defence and help for evermore, Amen. About the same time, a shoe- maker, named John Kurde, was burnt at Northampton, and died with the same steadfastness and hope as the other martyrs in the same glorious cause. MARTYRDOM OF JOHN NOYES, OF LAXEFIELD, IN SUFFOLK. About the same time as those persons whose fate we have just recorded, suffered John Noyes, and his apprehension and death were brought about in the follow- ing manner : Some bigoted papists, who dwelt in the neighbourhood, knowing him to be a professor of the true faith, and a despiser of the mass, and other Romish superstitions, deter- mined to bring him to punishment; and accordingly, three of them, named Thomas Lovel, Wolfreu Dowsing, and Nicholas Stannard, beset his house, and he attempting to go out, Nicholas Stannard called to him and said, " Whither goest thou V to which he replied, " To see some of my neighbours." Stannard then said, " Your master hath deceived you ; you must go with us now." To which Noyes answered, " No, but take you heed your master deceive not you." And so they took him and carried him before the justices the next day. After several matters had been alleged against him, he was conducted to a dungeon at Eye, where he was confined for some time, and was then carried from thence to Norwich, and before the bishop, where he was interrogated on the following subjects: 1. Whether he believed that the ceremonies used in the church were JOHN NOYES. 639 good and godly, to stir up men's minds to devotion. 2. Whether he believed the pope to be supreme head of the church here on earth. 3. Whether he believed the body of our Lord Jesus Christ to be in tlie sacrament of the altar under the forms of bread and wine, after the words of consecration. To which he replied with great courage, denying the pope's su- premacy, the use of ceremonies, and Christ's real presence in the sacrament. Upon this, sentence was read by the bishop against him, in the presence of Dr. Dunning, his chan- cellor, sir W. Woodhouse, sir Thomas Woodhouse, and several other gentlemen. No further particulars of his ex- amination are known ; but we have the following account of his subse- quent conduct and execution, from which we learn, in some measure, what took place on his appearance before the bishop: In the mean time his brother-in- law, Nicholas Fisk, of Dinnington, going to comfort him at such time as he remained in the Guildhall of Norwich, after christian exhor- tation, asked him if he did fear death when the bishop gave judg- ment against him, considering the terror of the same ; and the said Noyes answered, he thanked God he feared death no more at that time, than he or any other did, being at liberty. Then the said Nicholas required of him to shew the cause of his condemnation. Upon which request the said John Noyes wrote' i with his own hand as follows : I said. That I could not believe, that in the sacrament of the altar there is the natural body of Christ, that same body that was born of the virgin Mary. But I said, that the sacrament of the body and blood of Christ is received by Christian people in the remem- brance of Christ's death, as a spi- ritual food, if it be ministered ac- cording to Christ's institution. But they said, That I could not tell what spiritual meant. The bishop said, That the sacra- ment was God, and must be wor- shipped as God. So said the chan- cellor also. Then answered I, and said. My lord, I cannot so believe. Then said the bishop. Why? Then say what thou dost believe. Notwithstanding, these collusions could not prevail. Now being condemned, he was sent again from Norwich to Eye- prison ; and about the 21st day of September, about midnight, he was brought from Eye to Laxefield, to be burned ; and on the next morn- ing was brought to the stake, where were waiting for his coming, the aforesaid justice, Mr- Thurston, one Mr. Waller, being then under- sheriff, and Mr. Thomas Lovell, high constable, as is before express- ed ; who commanded men to make ready all things meet for this sin- ful purpose. Now the fires in most houses of the street were put out, saving that asmoke was espied by the said Thomas Lovell, pro- ceeding out from the top of a chim- ney, to which house the sheriff and Grannow his man went, and brake open the door, and thereby got fire, and brought the same to the place of execution. When John Noyes came to the place where he should be burned, he kneeled down and said the 50th Psalm, with other prayers, and then they mak- ing haste bound him to the stake, and being bound, the said John Noyes said, " Fear not them that can kill the body, but fear him that can kill both body and soul, and cast it into everlasting fire.'' When he saw his sister weeping and making moan for him, he told her that she should not weep for him, but weep for her sins. Then one Nicholas Cadman brought a fagot and set against him ; and the said John Noyes took up the fagot and kissed it, and said. Blessed be the time that ever I was born to come to this. Then ho delivered his psalter to 640 BOOK OF MARTYRS. be under-sheriff, desiring him to be good to his wife and children, and to deliver to her that same book; and the sheriff promised him that he would, notwithstand- ing he never performed his pro- mise. Then the said John Noyes S'aid to the people, " They say they can make God of a piece of bread; believe them not." Then said he, " Good people, bear witness that I do believe to be saved by the merits and passion of Jesus Christ, and not by mine own deeds." And so the fire was kindled, and burning about him, he then said, " Lord, have mercy upon me! Christ, have mercy upon me! Son of David, hare mercy upon me \" And so he yielded up his life, and when his body was burned, they made a pit to bury the coals and ashes, and amongst the same they found one of his feet that was unburned, whole up to the ancle, with the hose on, and that they buried with the rest. • Now while he was burning, there stood by one John Jarvis, a servant in the same town, a plain fellow, who said, " Good Lord, how the sinews of his arms shrink up !" And there stood behind him Grannow and Benet, the sheriff's men, and they told their master, that John Jarvis said, " What vil- lanous wretches are these!" And their master ordered them to ap- prehend him, and they took him and pinioned him, and carried him before the justice that same day, and the justice did examine him of the words aforesaid, but he denied them, and answered that he said nothing but this, " Good Lord, how the sinews of his arms shrink up!" But for all this the justice did bind his father and his master in five pounds a-piece, that he should be forthcoming at all times. And on the Wednesday following, he was brought again before the justices, Mr. Thurston and Mr. Kene, sitting at Fresingfield, Hox- ton Hundred, and there they did appoint and command, that the said John Jarvis should be set iti the stocks the next market-day, and whipped about the market naked. But his master, one Wil- liam Jarvis, did after crave friend- ship of the constables, and they did not set him in the stocks till Sunday morning, and in the after- noon they did whip him about the market with a dog-whip, having three cords, and so they let him go. The following letter was written by Noyes to his wife, wbHe he lay in prison. Wife, you desired me that I would send you some tokens that you might remember me. As I did read in the New Testament, I thought it good to write unto you certain places of the Scripture for a remembrance. St. Peter saitlr, 1 Pet. iv., " Dearly beloved, be not troubled with this heat that is come among you to try you, as though some strange thing had happened unto you, but rejoice, insomuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings, that when his glory appeareth ye may be merry and glad. If ye be railed on for the name of Cbrist, happy are ye,, for the Spirit of glory, and the Spirit of God, resteth upon you. " It is better, if the will of God be so, that ye suffer for well doing than for evil doing. " See that none of you suffer as a murderer, or as a thief, or an evil doer, or as a busy body in-other men's matters ; but if any man suffer as a Christian man, let him not be ashamed, but let him glo- rify God in his behalf; for the time is come that judgment must begin at the house of God. If it first be- gin with us, what shall the end of them be, that believe not the gos- pel of God ? Wherefore let them that suffer according to the will of God, commit their souls unto him in well doing." St. Paul saith, 2 Tim. iii., " all that will live godly in Christ Jesus, must suffer persecution." St. John saith, 1 John ii., " Se€ JOHN NOYES. 64! thatyc love not the world, neither the things tiiat are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, as the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world, which vanisheth away and the lust there- of, but he that fuUilleth the will of God abideth for ever." St. Paul saith, Col. iii. "If ye be risen again with Christ, seek those things which arc above, where Christ sittetli on the right hand of God. Set your all'ection on things that are above, and not on things which are on earth," Our Savionr Christ saith, Matt, xviii. " Whosoever sliall ofleud one of these little ones that believe in me, it were better for him that a mill-stone were hanged about his neck, and that he were ca^t into the sea," The Emperor llenri/ IV. uith his Empress and Sim, compelled to vait three days and nights, in the dejyth of winter, to gain udmissiun to I'ojie Gregory 172. The prophet David saith, Psal. xxxiv. " Great are the troubles of the righteous, but the Lord deli- vereth them out of all. "■ Fear the Lord, ye saints : for they that fear him lack nothing. "When the righteous cry, the Lord heareth them, and delivereth them out of all tlieir troubles : but misfortune shall slay the ungodly, and they that hate the righteous shall perish. " Hear, O my people. I assure FOX'S MARTYRS. thee, O Israel, if thou wilt hearken unto me, there shall no strange god be in thee, neither shalt thou wor- ship any other God. Oh that my people would obey me : for if Israel would walk in my ways, I should soon put down their ene- mies, and turn mine hand against thine adversaries." Our Saviour Christ saith, " The disciple is not above the master, nor yet the servant above his lord. li is enough for the disciple to be 41 642 BOOK OF MAflTYRS, as Lis master is, ahd that the ser- ■vant be as his lord is. It" they have called the raaster of the Louse Beelzebub, how much more shall they call them of his house- hold so? fear not them there- fore." St. Paul saith, 2 Cor. iv. " Set yourselves there at large, and bear not a stranger's yoke with the un- believers : for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteous- ness? what company hath light with darkness? or what part hath the believer with the infidel i" &c. Wherefore come out from among them, and separate yourselves now (saith the Lord), and touch no un- clean thing ; so will I receive you, and I will be a Father unto you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord Al- mighty. " For neither eye hath seen, nor the ear hath heard, neither can it enter into the heart of man what good things the Lord hath prepar- ed for them that love him." 1 Cor. ii. " Ye are bought neither with silTer nor gold, but with the pre- cious blood of Christ," 1 Pet. i. "There is none other name given to men wherein we must be saved," Acts iv. So fare ye well, wife and chil- dren ; and leave worldly care, and see you be diligent to pray. " Take no thought, (saith Christ, Matt, vi.) saying, What shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or wherewith shall we be clothed? (for after all these things seek the GentiJes) for your heavenly Father knoweth tliat ye have need of all these things, but seek ye first the kingdom of heaven, and the righteousness thereof, and all these things shall be ministered unto you." MARTYRDOM OF CICELY ORMES, AT NORWICH. About the 23d of September, shortly after the others above-men- tioned. Cicely Ormes, wife of Ed- mund Ormes, suffered at Norwich ; she was taken at the death of Simon Miller and Elizabeth Cooper, whom we have already mentioned, and her offence was, having said that " she would pledge them of the same cup that they drank of." For so saying, one Mr. Corbet, of Sprowson, near Norwich, sent her to the chancellor. When she came before him, he asked her what she said unto the sacrament of Christ's body ? And she said, " she did believe that it was the sacrament of the body of Christ." — " Yea," said the chancellor, " but what is that that the priest holdeth over his head?" She an- swered him and said, " It is bread: and if you make it any better, it is worse." At which words the chancellor sent her to the bishop's prison, with many threatenings and hot words, being in a great rage. On the 23d of July she was called before the chancellor again, who sat in judgment with Mr. Bridges and others. The chan- cellor offered her, " if she would go to the church and keep her senti- ments to herself, she should be set at liberty, and believe as she would." But she told him " she would not consent to his wicked desire therein, do with her what he would : for if she should, God would surely plague her." Then the chancellor told her, " he had shewed more favour to her, than ever he did to any, and that he was loth to condemn her, consider- ing she was an ignorant, unlearned, and foolish woman." On this she told him, " if he thought her such, he should not be so desirous of her sinful flesh, as she would (by God's grace) be content to give it in so good a quarrel." He then read the sentence of condemnation against her, and delivered her to the care of the sheriffs of the city, who immediately carried her to the Guildhall in Norwich, where she remained until her death. " This Cicely Ormes was a very simple woman, but yet zealous in the Loi-d's cause, being born in East Dereham, and was the daugh- CICELY ORMES, AND OTHEllS. 643 4er of one Thomas Haund, tailor. She was taken the athday of July, and did for a twelve-mouth before she was taken recant, but never after was she quiet in conscience, until she was utterly driven from all their popery. Between the time that she recanted, and that she was taken, she had got a letter written to give to the chancellor, to let him know that she repented her recantation from the bottom of her heart, and would never do the like again while she lived. But before she exhibited her bill, she was taken and sent to prison as is before said. She was burnt the 23d of September, between seven and eight in the mofning, the two sheriffs being there, and to the number of two hundred people. When she came to the stake, she kneeled down, and made her pray- ers to God : that being done, she rose up and said, ' Good people, I believe in God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, three persons and one God. " * This do I not, nor will I re- cant ; but I recant utterly from the bottom of my heart the doings of the pope of Rome, and all his popish priests I utterly refuse, and never will have to do with them again by God's grace. And, good people, I would you should not think of me, that I believe to be saved in that I ofl'er myself here unto the death of the Lord's cause, but I believe to be saved by the death and passion of Christ ; and this my death fa and shall be a witness of my faith unto all here present. Good people, as many of you that believe as I believe, pray for me.' " Then she came to the stake, and laid her hand on it, and said, ' Welcome the cross of Christ.' Which being done, she looked on her hand, and seeing it blacked with the stake, she wiped it upon her smock, for she was burnt at the same stake that Simon Miller and Elizabeth Cooper were. Then after she had touched it with her hand, she came and kissed it, and said, ' Weleorafe the sweet cross of Christ,' and so gave herself to be bound thereto. After the tor- mentors had kindled the fire to her, she said, ' My soul doth xnag- nify the Lord, and my spirit re- joiceth in God my Saviour: and in saying so she set her hands to- gether right against her breast, casting her eyes and head upward, and so stood heaving up her hands by little and little, till the very sinews of her arms did break asunder, and then they fell ; but she yielded up her life unto God, as quietly as if she had been in a slumber, or as one feeling no pain ; so wonderfully did the Lord work with her; his name there- fore be praised for evermore. Amen." FURTHER PERSECUTIONS. Nearly at the same period as the martyrdoms we have just re- lated, many others took place in various parts of the kingdom, but the want of authentic records, prevents our laying the particulars before our readers ; as we are re- solved never to impose upon them by fictitious or doubtful accounts, but to state nothing which is not confirmed by the strongest testi- mony. The features of popery are hideous enough, without the as- sistance of artificial horrors ; why, therefore, need we blacken a mon- ster, •' Which, to ha hated, needg but to be seen ?" In the diocese of Chichester, especially, many were condemned and martyred for the true testi- mony of righteousness, among whom we find the following per- sons named, although we have no particulars of their examinations, &c. ; John Foreman, of East Grin- stead ; John Warner, of Berne ; Christian Grover, of the archdea- conry of Lewes ; Thomas Athoth, priest; Thomas Avington, of Erd- ingly; Dennis Burgis, of Bux- stead ; Thomas Ravensdale, of Rye; John Milles, of Hellingley ; Nicholas Holden, of Withiam ; John Hart, of Withiam ; Margery 644 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Moiice, of Hethfield; Anne Try, of East Grinstead ; John Oseward, of Woodmancote ; Thomas Har- Jand, of Woodmancote; James Morice of Hethfield ; Thomas D(jugate, of East Grinstead ; and John Ashedon, of Katherfield. The greatest persecutors aajainst these faithful martyrs were these : Chrislopherson, bishop of Chiches- ter ; Richard Briesley, doctor of law, and chancellor of Chichester ; Robert Taylor, bachelor of law, his deputy ; Thomas Piccard, civi- lian ; Anthony Clarke, Albane, and Longdale, bachelors of divi- nity, &c. MARTYRDOM OF THOMAS SPURD- ANCE, AT BURY ST. EDMUND's. The following account of his ex- aminations is given by himself: The bishop's chancellor asked me, if I had been before the priest, and confessed my sins unto him ? And I said, No, I had confessed my sins to God, and God saith, in what hour soever a sinner repeut- eth and is sorry for his sins, and asketh forgiveness, willing no more so to do, he will no more reckon his sin unto him ; and that is suffi- cient for me. Then said the chancellor, Thou deniest the sacrament of penance. I said, I deny not penance, but I deny that I should shew my sins to the priest. Then said the chancellor, That is denying of the sacrament of pe- nance. Write this article. Have you received the blessed saicrament of tlie altar (said he) at this time of Easter ? And I said. No. And why have you not ? said he. I said, I dare not meddle with you in it, as you use it. Why, do we not use it truly ? said he. I said, No : for the holy supper of the Lord serveth for the Chris- tian congregation, and you are none of Christ's members ; and therefore I dare not meddle with you, lest I be like unto you. Why are we none of Christ's members ? said the chancellor. I said, Because you teach laws contrary to God's laws. What laws are those? said he. I said. These three articles, that you swear the people unto here, be false and untrue, and you do evil to swear the people unto them. Then said he, Good people, take no heed unto his words, for he is an heretic, and teacheth you disobedience : and so he would no more speak of that matter. Then said he. How believest thou in the blessed sacrament of the altar : dost thou not believe that after it is consecrated, it is the very same body that was born of the Virgin Mary ? I said. No, not the body in sub- stance : for the same body hath a substance in flesh, blood, and bones, and was a bloody sacritice, and this is a dry sacrifice. And I said, Is the mass a sacri- fice ? Unto which a doctor answered that sat by him, It is a sacrifice both for the quick and the dead. Then said I, No, it is no sacri- fice ; for St. Paul saith that Christ made one sacrifice once for all ; and I do believe in none other sacrifice, but only in that one sa- crifice that our Lord Jesus Christ made once for all. Then said the doctor. That sa- crifice that Christ made was a wet sacrifice, and the mass is a dry sa- crifice. Then said I, That same dry sa- crifice is a sacrifice of your own making, and it is your sacrifice, it is none of mine. Then said the chancellor, He is an heretic, he denieth the sacra- ment of the altar. Then said I, Will ye know how I believe in the holy supper of the Lord? And he said. Yes. Then said I, I believe that if I come rightly and worthily, as God hath commanded me, to the holy supper of the Lord, I receive him by faith, as by believing in him. THOMAS^SPURDANCE. 645 But the bread beinp; received is not God, and the bread that is yon- der in the pix is not God. God dwelleth not in temples made with hands, ncitlier will he be worship- ped with the works of men's hands. And therefore you do very evil to cause the people to kneel down and worship the bread ; for God did never bid you hold it above your heads, neither had the apos- tles such use. Then said the chancellor. He de- nieth the presence in the sacra- ment. Write this article also. He is a very heretic. Then said I, The servant is not greater than his master. For your predecessors killed my master Christ, the prophets and apostles, and holy virtuous men, and now yon also kill the servants of Christ, so that all the righteous blood that hath been shed, even from righte- ous Abel, until this day, shall be required at your hands. Well, said the chancellor, have him away. SECOND EXAMINATION. OF SPURD- ANCE, BEFORE THE BISHOP OF NORWICH. Bishop. Sirrah, dost thou not believe in the Catholic faith of the holy cliurch? Spurd, I believe Christ's Ca- tholic church. Bishop. Yea, in Christ's church, of which the pope is head ? Dost thou not believe that the pope is supreme head of the Catholic church ? Spurd. No; I believe not that he should be above the apo«tles, if he takes them to be his prede- cessors. For when there came a thought among the apostles, who should be the greatest when their master was gone, Christ answered them unlo their thoughts, "The kings of the earth bear dominion above each other, but ye shall not do so, for he that will be greatest among you shall become servant unto you all." How is it then (said I) that he will climb so high above his fellows? And also we were sworn in my master king Henry's time, that we should, to the ulniost of our power, never consent to liim again. And therefore, as he hutii nothing to do here in England, so neither hath he in his own country more than a bishop hatii in his diocese. Bishop. Yea, what of that? We were then in error and sin, now we are in the riglit way again, and therefore thou must home again with us, and acknowledge thy' fault, and become a Christian man, and be sworn unto the pope as our supreme head. Wilt thou be sworn onto the pope ? How sayest thou ? Spurd. No, I warrant you, by the grace of God, not as long as I live. For you cannot prove by the scripture that the pope is head of the church, and may do therein what he listeth. Bishop. No .' yes, I trow ; for as the bell-wether which weareth the bell, is head of the flock of sheep, even so is the pope the head of the church of Christ. And as the bees in the hive have a master bee, when they are gone out, to bring them home to the hive; even so the pope, when we be gone astray, and wandered from the fold, from the hive, &.c. then is ordered our head by suc- cession of Peter to bring us home again to the true churcli ; as thou now, my good fellow, hast long wandered out of the way, like a scattered sheep, &c. liear there- fore that bell-wether, the master bee, &c. and come home with us again to thy mother the church. Spurd. My lord, all this is but natural reason, and no scripture : but since you cannot prove the pope to be authorized by scripture, you answer me not as I thought you would. Bishop. Ha! I see well you will be stout, and will not be an- swered : therefore you shall be compelled by law, whether you will or no. Spurd. My lord, so did your forefathers treat Christ and his apostles. They had a law, and by their law they put him to death ; 646 BOOK OF MARTYRS. aitd so Hkewise you have a few, which is tyranny, and by that you would enforce rae to believe as you do : but the Lord, 1 trust, will as- sist me against all your beggarly ceremonies, and make your fool- ishness known to all the world. Bishop. When were you at church, or joined in the proces- sion, and did the ceremonies of the church ? Spurd. Never since I was born. Bishop. No .' How old are you .' Spurd. I think about forty. Bishop. Why, how did you use yourself at church twenty years ago? Spurd. Ab you do now. Bishop. And even now, you said you did not use the ceremo- nies since you were born ! Spurd. No more I did, since I was born anew ; as Christ said unto Nicodemus, " Except ye be born anew, ye cannot enter into the king- dom of heaven." Then said a doctor that sat by, *' He is a very anabaptist : for that is their opinion plain." Spurd. No, sir, you say falsely, for I am no anabaptist: for they deny children to be baptized, which I do not. Bishop. Well, why dost thou not go to church, and do the cere- monies? Spurd. Because they are con- trary to God's word and laws, as you yourself have taught; but now you say it is good again : and I think if there were a return to- morrow, you would say that was false 'again which you hold now. Therefore, I may well say, there is no truth in you. Bishop. Then thou art a stub- born fellow, and an heretic, and a traitor. Spurd. No, I am no traitor, for I have done, T think, better service for the crown imperial of England than you. Bishop. If you had done such good service, you would be obe- dient to the laws of the realm. Spurd. So I am. There is no man alive, I thank God, that can accuse me justly that ever I was disobedient to any civil laws. But you must consider, my lord, that I have a soul and body, and my soul is none of the queen's, but my body and my goods are the queen's. And I must give God my soul, and all that belongeth unto it, that is, I must do the laws and command- ments of God; and whosoever cominandeth laws contrary to God's laws, I may not do them for losing of my soul, but must rather obey God than man. Bishop. Why dost thou not these laws then ? Are they not agreeable to God's laws ? Spurd. No, you cannot prove them to be God's laws ? Bishop. Yes, that I can. Spurd. Then if you can prove by the word of God, that you should have any graven images made to set in your churches for laymen's books, or to worship God by them, or that you should have the ceremonies in your church as you have, prove them by the word of God, and I will do them. Bishop. Then it is a good and decent order to furnish the church ; as when you shall go to dinner, you have a cloth upon the table to furnish the table before the meat shall come upon it ; so are these ceremonies a comely, decent order to be in the church among Chris- tian people. Spurd. These are inventions and imaginations out of your own brain, without any word of God to prove them. For God saith, Look what you think good in your own eyes, if I command the con- trary, it is abominable in my sight. And these ceremonies are against God's laws. For St. Paul saith, they be weak and beggarly, and rebuketh the Galatians for doing them. Bishop. Well, if you will not do them, seeing they be the laws of the realm, you are an heretic and disobedient : and therefore come home again and confess your faults with us, that you have been in error, &c. Will you do 90 ? JOHN HALLINGDALE, AND OTHERS. 647 Spurd. No, I have been in no error : for the spiritual laws were never more truly set forth than in my master king Edward's time, and I trust unto God I shall never leave them while I live. Then came a gentleman to me and said. Are you wiser than all men ? and have you more know- ledge than all men? Will you cast away your soul willingly ? My lord, and other men also, would fain you would save yourself: therefore choose some man where you will, either spiritual or tem- poral, and take a day, my lord will give it you. Spurd. If I save my life, I shall lose it ; and if I lose my life for Christ's sake, I shall lind it in life everlasting. And if I take a day, when the day cometh, I must say then even as I do now, except I will lie, and therefore that need- eth not. " Well then, have him away," said the bishop ; and he was accord- ingly carried back to prison, where he lay till the month of November, when he was brought to the stake, and died in the constant profession of his belief in the doctrines of the reformed church. He had been one of queen Mary's servants, and was taken by two of his fellow servants, named John Haman, and George Looson, both of Codman, in the county of Suf- folk, who carried him to one Mr. Gosnal, dwelling in the same place, by whom he was sent to Bury, where he remained in prison till his death. PERSECUTION AND MARTYRDOM OF JOHN HALLINGDALE, WILLIAM SPARROW, AND RICHARD GIB- SON. Informations having been laid against these three persons, as being suspected of heresy, they were apprehended, and after being confined for some time, were, at length, brought together to be ex- amined before bishop Bonner, when articles were exhibited against each sepa^rately, and thbir respective answers thereto were required. The first person examined was John Hallingdale, against whom the following articles were exhi- bited : 1. That the said John Halling- dale is of the diocese of London, and subject to the bishop of Lon- don's jurisdiction. 2. That the said John, hefors the time of the reign of Edward the Sixth, late king of England, v/as of the same faith and religion that was then observed, believed, taught, and set forth here in this realm of England. 3. That during the reign of the said Edward the Sixth, late king of England, upon the occasion of the preaching of certain ministers in that time, he did not abide in his former faith and religion, but did depart from it, and so did, and doth continue, till this present daj% and so determineth to do (as he saith, to his life's end. 4. That the said John Halling- dale hath thought, believed, and spoken, divers times, that the faith, religion, and ecclesiastical service, received, observed, and used now in this realm of England, is not good and laudable, but against God's commandment and word ; especially concerning the mass, and the seven sacraments : and that the said John will in no wise conforpi himself to the same, but speak and think against it during his natural life. 5. That the said John absenteth himself continually from his own parish church of St. Leonard, nei- ther hearing matins, mass, nor even-song ; nor yet confessing his sins to the priest, or receiving the sacrament of the altar at his hands, or in using other ceremo- nies, as they are now used in the churches and realm of England : and, as he remembereth, he never came but once into the said parish- church of St. Leonard, and careth not (as he saith) if he never come there any more, the service being as it is there at present, and so 648 BOOK OF MARTYRS. many abuses being there, ns he saith there are, especially the mass, the sacraments, and the ce- remonies and service set forth in Latin. 6. That the said John, when his wife, called Alice, was brought to bed of a man child, caused the said child to be christened in Eng;- lish, after the same manner and form in all points, as it was used in the time of the reign of king Edward the Sixth, aforesaid, and caused it to be called Joshua, and would not have the said child christened in Latin, after the form and manner now used in the church and realm of England ; nor will have it, by his will, (as he saith) confirmed by the bishop. The particulars stated in all these articles Hallingdale acknowledged to be true ; and said, he would not, on any condition whatever, revoke his answers. The bishop then asked him, whether he did firmly believe, that in the sacrament of the altar, there is really and truly the very body and blood of our Saviour Christ, or not? To which Hallingdale re- plied, that he neither, in the time of king Edward VI. nor at present, didi>eKeve, that in the said sacra- ment there is really the very body and blood of Christ : for, if he had so believed, he would (as others had done) have received the same, which he did not, because he had believed, and then did believe, that the very body of Christ is only in heaven, and in no other place. He likewise said, that Cranmer, Latimer, Ridley, Hooper, and many others, who had been lately burned for heretics, were far other- wise, as they all preached the true gospel. That on their preaching he grounded his faith and con- science, according to the saying of St. John, in the 18th chapter of liis Revelation, that the blood of the prophets and of the saints, and of all that were slain upon earth, was found in the anti-chris- tian cbureli, by which is under- stood, that church whereof the pope is head. After this examination he was reconducted to prison, and the next day again brought before the bishop, who used his utmost en- deavours to prevail on him to re- cant ; but finding them all ineffec- tual, he read the sentence of con- demnation, and Hallingdale was immediately delivered over to the secular power. William Sparrow was next brought up for examination, and the following articles were exhi- bited against him : 1. That thou, William Sparrow, M'ast, in times past, detected and presented lawfully unto thine or- dinary the bishop of London, call- ed Edmund, who also is now thine ordinary, and of the said diocese : and thou wast presented and de- tected unto him for heresy, errors, and unlawful opinions, which thou didst believe, set forth, and hold. 2. That thou, before thy said ordinary, didst openly and judi- cially confess the said heresies, errors, and unlawful opinions, as appeareth plainly in the acts of the court made before thine ordi- nary. 3. That thou, after the premises, didst make thy submission in writ- ing, and didst exhibit and deliver the same as thy deed to thy said ordinary, openly confessing and recognising thy heresies, errors, and unlawful opinions, and thine offences and transgressions in that behalf. 4. That thou, after the premises, didst promise unto thy said ordi- nary, voluntarily, and of thine own accord, that always, after the said submision, thou wouldest in all points conform thyself unto the common order of the Catholic church observed and kept here in this realm of England, and in no wise fall again into heresies, er- rors, or unlawful opinions. 5. That thou, since thy said sub- mission, hast willingly fallen into certain heresies and errors, and WILLIAM SPAnROW-RICHARD GIBSON, 649 liast Iiolden and set fortli divers unlawful opinions, to the very fi^rcat hurt of thine own soul, and also to the great hindrance and loss of divers others, especially, against the sacraments of the Ca- tholic church. 6. That thou, since the said sub- mission, hast willingly gone about divers places within the diocese of London, and sold divers heretical, erroneous, and blasphemous bal- lads, and was apprehended and taken with the ballads about thee, and committed to prison. To these respective articles Spar- row gave the following answers : To the first, second, third, and fourth articles, he answered affirm- atively, and confessed the charges therein alleged to be true. To the fifth article he answered, that if he had spoken against the sacrament of the altar, &c. he had spoken no more than the truth. To the sixth he answered, that he granted it ; adding, that he did sell the ballads then shewn and read before him, and that the same contained God's holy word. After this examination he was sent back to prison ; but in the afternoon of the same day he was again brought before the bishop, who charged him with his former submission. To this charge he answered, " I am very sorry that I ever made it ; for it was the worst deed I ever did." The bishop then said, that he went to church, and there was con- fessed, and heard mass. This Sparrow also acknowledg- ed, but added, " that it was with a troubled conscience ; for," said he, " that which yon call the truth I do believe to be heresy." Bonner then charged him with the fifth article ; to which he an- swered, that he had done as was contained in that article, and would do so again, were he at liberty. Being then asked by the bishop whether he would persist and con- tinue in the same ; he answered, that he would not go from his opi- iiion: and added, "that which you call heresy is good and godly ; and if every hair of my head was a man, I would burn them all, ra- ther than go from the truth." After this the bishop endeavour- ed to prevail on him to recant, saying, that on those conditions he should be dismissed ; but Spar- row continuing resolute in his faith and opinions, the bishop proceed- ed to read the sentence of excom- munication against him, and he was condemned as an heretic ; after which he was delivered into the hands of the sherilf, and by him again conducted to prison. Richard Gipson' was then brought forward. The misfortunes of this good Christian arose from his performance of an act of the most generous friendship to a per- son with whom he was particularly acquainted. This man was ar- rested for debt, when Gibson be- coming surety for him, his pre- tended friend treacherously fied, and he not being able to discharge the debt, was thrown into the Poultry Compter, where he re- mained upwards of two years. When he was about to be re- leased, some litigious and bigoted papist laid an accusation of heresy against him, to the bishop of Lon- don, because he had never con- fessed, nor received the sacrament of the altar, while he was in con- finement. In consequence of this he was ordered to appear before the bi- shop, who examined him concern- ing his faith and religion. At first he seemed to make a certain sub- mission, which was recorded in the bishop's register: but this not appearing sufficiently satisfactory, the following articles were exhi- bited against him : 1. That the said Richard Gib- son, prisoner in the Compter, in the Poultry, in the diocese of London, hath, otherwise than be- came a faithful Christian, and a good subject in this realm of Eng- Tand, behaved himself, in words and deeds, in divers conditions and points, contrary to the order, 650 BOOK OF MARTYRS. religion, and faith of Christ's Ca- tholic church, and contrary to the order of this realm, to the perni- cious and evil example of the in- habitants of the city of London, and the prisoners of the prison of the said Compter in the Poultry, and greatly to the hurt and da- mage of his own soul ; offending, especially, in the articles following: by reason whereof the said Richard Gibson was, and is, in the juris- diction of the said bishop of Lon- don, and subject to the said juris- diction, to make answer to his of- fences and transgressions under- written, according to the order of the law. 2. That the said Richard Gibson hath irreverently spoken against the pope, and see, and church of Rome, and likewise against the whole church of this realm of Eng- land, and against the seven sa- craments of the Catholic and whole church of Christendom, and against the articles of the Chris- tian faith, here observed in this realm of England, and against the commendable and laudable cere- monies of the Catholic church. 3. That the said Richard Gibson hath commended, alloM ed, defend- ed, and liked, both Cranmer, Lati- mer, and Ridley, and also other heretics here in this realm of Eng- land, according to the ecclesiasti- cal laws condemned for heretics ; and also liked all their heretical, erroneous, damnable, and wicked opinions, especially against the sa- crament of the altar, and the au- thority of the pope and see of Rome, with the whole religion thereof. 4. That the said Richard Gibson hath comforted, aided, assisted, and maintained, both by words and otherwise, heretics and errone- ous persons, or at least suspected and informed of heresies and errors condemned by the Catholic church, to continue in their heretical and erroneous opinions aforesaid, fa- vouring and counselling the same unto his power. 6. That the said Gibson hath aflirmed and said, that the religion and faith commonly observed and kept, and used now here in this realm of England, is not good or laudable, nor in any wise agree- able unto God's word and com- mandment. 6. That the said Richard Gibson hath affirmed, that the Enghsh service, and the books commonly called the books of communion, or common-prayer, here set forth in this realm of England, in the time of king Edward the Sixth, were in all parts and points good and god- ly, and the same only, and no other, ought to be observed and kept in this realm of England. 7. That the said Gibson hath af- firmed, that if he may once be out of prison and at liberty, he will not come to any parish-church, or ecclesiastical place, to hear the matins, mass, or even-song, or any divine service now used in this realm of England, nor come to the procession upon times and days accustomed, nor bear at any time any taper or candle, or receive pix, at mass time, nor to receive holy water, nor holy bread, nor observe the ceremonies or usages of the Catholic church here observ- ed and kept commonly in this realm of England. 8. 'That the said Gibson hath af- firmed, that he is not bound at any time, though he have liberty, and the presence of a priest, conve- nient and meet, to confess his sins to the said priest, nor to receive absolution at his hands, nor to re- ceive of him the sacrament, called the sacrament of the altar, after such form as is now used within the realm of England. 9. That the said Richard Gibson hath affirmed, that prayer unto saints, or prayers for the dead, are not laudable, or profitable ; and that no man is bound, at any time, or in any place, to fast or pray, but only at his own will and pleasure ; and that it is not lawful to reserve, or keep, the said sacra- ment of the altar. Gibson having answered theae respective articles, was dismissed for the present ; but the next daj REV. JOHN ROUGH. 651 wag again brought before the bi- shop for a farther examination. Several questions were put to him ; but he refused to answer to any of them, sayinjy, the bishop of London was not his ordinary. His last examination was at the bishop's consistory court, where Bonner, after some discourse, ask- ed, if he knew any cause why sentence should not be pronounced against him? On which he told the bishop, that he could not allege any thing against him fo^ which he might be justly condemned. The bishop then told him, that **men said he was an evil man." Gibson replied, " Yea, my lord, and so may I say of you also." After this, his sentence of con- demnation was read, at the end of which he said, " Blessed am I that I am cursed at your hands." He was then delivered to the sheriff, who conducted him to pri- son, in order for execution. On the 18th of November, 1557, these three faithful servants of Christ were conducted, under a guard, to Smithfield, where they were all fastened to one stake. After they had, for some time, fer- vently prayed to God to enable them to endure the fiery trial, the fagots were lighted, and they all clieerfuUy resigned their souls into the hands of their heavenly Father, trusting that, as they had borne the cross for his sake, he would re- ward them with " a crown of glory which fadeth not away." MARTYr.DOMS OF THE REV. JOHN KOUGH, AND OF MARGARET MAR- ING. Mr. John Rough was a native of Scotland, the son of reputable and pious parents. Being deprived of his right of inheritance to certain lands by some of his kindred, he was so irritated that, though only seventeen years of age, he entered himself a member of the order of Black Friars, at Stirling, in Scot- land. Here he continued upwards of sixteen years, when the earl of Arran, (afterwards duke of Ha- milton), then regent of Scotland, having a partiality for him, ap- plied to the archbishop of St. An- drew's to dispense with his pro- fessed order, that he might serve him as his chaplain. The archbishop readily granting the request of the regent, Mr. Rough was disengaged from his monastic order, and continued chaplain to his patron about a year; when it pleased God to open his eyes, and give him some knowledge of the truth of the gospel. At this time the earl sent him to preach in the county of Ayr, where he continued about four years, during which time he dis- charged the duties of his office with the strictest diligence. On the death of the cardinal of Scotland, he was sent for to offi- ciate at St. Andrew's, for which he had a pension of twenty pounds per annum allowed him by king Henry VIIl. After being some time in this situation, he began to abhor the idolatry and superstition of his own country ; and when he found that, on the accession of Edward VI. there was free profes- sion of the gospel in England, he left St. Andrew's, and went first to Carlisle, and afterwards waited on the duke of Somerset, then pro- tector, by whom he was appointed preacher, with an annual allow- ance of twenty pounds, to serve in Carlisle, Berwick, and New- castle-upon-Tyne. A short time after this he mar- ried, and the archbishop of York gave him a benefice near the town of Kingston-upon Hull, which he enjoyed till the death of the king. On the accession of queen Mary, when the true religion was super- seded by the false, and persecu- tion took place in all parts of the kingdom, Mr. Rough fled with his wife into the Low-Countries, and took up his residence at a place called Norden. Here he main- tained himself by knitting and 652 BOOK OF MARTYRS. selling caps and hose, till the month of October, 1557, when wanting: yarn, and other necessa- ries for his trade, he embarked for England, and arrived in London on the 10th of November follow- ing. Soon after his arrival, he was informed that there was a private congregation of religious people in a certain part of the city, upon which he joined them, and was elected their minister. In this office he continued some time, till, at the instigation of Ro- ger Serjeant, a hypocrite and false brother, on the 13th of December, he, together with one Cuthbert Simson, deacon of the aforesaid congregation, were apprehended by the vice-chamberlain of the queen's household, at the Sara- cen's-Head, in Islington, where the congregation had assembled for the purpose of performing their usual worship; although, to avoid suspicion, it had been given out that their meeting was to hear a play. Mr. Rough and Mr. Simson were both conducted, by the vice- chamberlain, to the queen's coun- cil, by whom they were charged with assembling to celebrate the Communion, or Lord's Supper. After a long examination Simson was, for the present, dismissed, but Rough was sent prisoner to Newgate. On the 18th of December, bi- shop Bonner ordered Rough to be brought before him at his palace in London, for examination con- cerning his religious faith ; when the following articles were exhi- bited against him: " 1. That thou, John Rough, didst directly speak against the seven sacraments used commonly and reverently, as things of esti- mation and great worthiness in the Catholic church; and also didst reprove and condemn the sacra- ment of the altar, affirming, that in the same is not really and truly the very body and blood of Christ; and that confession to the priest. and absolution given by him (tlie minister of Christ) for sins, is not necessary nor available in any wise. " 2. Then liast misliked and re- proved the religion and ecclesias- tical service, as it is now used in this realm : and hast allowed the religion and service used in the latter years of king Edward the Sixth; and, so much as in thee lieth, hast, by word, writing, and deed, set forward, taught, and preached the same openly; and in sundry places affirmed, that the said English service, and doctrine therein contained, is agreeable, in all points, to God's word, and to the truth, condemned utterly the Latin service now used in the queen's reign, and induced others, by thine example, to do the like. " 3. Thou hast, in sundry places within this realm, commended and approved the opinion and doctrine of Thomas Cranmer, late archbi- shop of Canterbury, Nicholas Rid- ley, and Hugh Latimer, concern- ing the sacrament of the altar; af- firming, that in the sacrament there remained, after the words of consecration, material bread and material wine, without any tran- substantiation. " 4. That thou hast, in sundry places of this realm, since the queen's reign, ministered and re- ceived the communion, as it was used in the late days of king Ed- ward VI., and thou knowest, or credibly hast heard of divers, that yet do keep books of the said com- munion, and use the same in pri- vate houses, out of the church, and are of opinion against the sa- crament of the altar. " 5. Thou dost know, and hast been conversant with all, or a great part of such Englishmen as have iled out of the realm; and hast consented and agreed with them in their opinions, and hast succoured, maintained, and holpen them; and hast been a conveyer of their seditious letters and books into this realm. " G. That thou, in sundry places REV. JOHN ROUGH. 653 of this realm, hast spoken against Uic pope of Rome, and Jiis apos- tolic sec, and hast plainly con- temned and despised the autho- rity of the same, misliking, and not allowing the faith and doc- trine thereof, but directly speak- ing against it; and, by thine ex- ample, hast induced others, the subjects of this realm, to speak and do the like. '' 7. That thou hast said that thou hast been at Rome, and tar- ried tliere about thirty days, or more, and that thou hast seen little good, or none, there, but very much evil. Amongst the which, thou sawest one great abomina- tion, that is to say, a man (or the pope) that should go on the ground, to be carried about upon the shoulders of four men, as though he had been God, and no man. Also, a cardinal to have his harlot riding opeuly behind him. And, thirdly, a pope's bull, that gave express licence to have and use their stews, and to keep open bawdry, by the pope's approbation and authority. " 8. That thou, since thy last coming into England, from parts beyond sea, hast perniciously al- lured and comforted divers of the subjects of this realm, both young and old, men and women, to have and use the book of Communion set forth in this realm in the latter days of king Edward VI., and hast also thyself read and set forth the .same, causing others to do the like, and to leave ofl' their coming to their parish-churches, to hear the Latin service now ut;ed. " 9. That thou, the third Sun- day of Advent, the 12th of De- cember, 1557, wast apprehended at the Saracen's Head, at Isling- ton, in the county of Middlesex, and diocese of London, by the queen's vice-chamberlain, with one Simsou, a tailor, Hugh, a ho- sier, and divers others there as- sembled, under the colour of hear- ing a play, to have read the Com- munion-book, and to have used the accustomed fashion, as was in the latter days of king Edward VI." To these respective articles Mr. Rough answered as follows: To the lirst, he replied, that he had spoken against the number of the said sacraments, being fully persuaded that there arc only two, to wit, Baptism, and the Supper of the Lord; and as for the other live, he denied them to be sacra- ments, and therefore had spoken against them. With respect to the sacrament of the altar, (or the Supper of the Lord), he confessed tiiat he had spoken and taught, that in the said sacrament there is not really and substantially the very body and blood of Christ; but that the substance of bread and wine doth remain in that sacrament, without any change being made in it by consecration. Concerning the confession of sins to a priest, he said, he thought it necessary, provided the offence was done to the priest; but if it was done to any other, then it was not necessary to make any confession to the priest, who was not injured; but to endeavour to obtain a proper reconciliation with the party offended. To the second article he an- swered, that he now did, and had before misliked the order of the Latin service then used ; and also did approve of the service used in the latter part of king Edward's reign, for that the holy Scripture had taught the same: and, there- fore, he granted, that he did teach, and set forth the said English ser- vice. The third article he granted, saying, that he had approved the doctrine of the parties mentioned, as agreeable to God's word; and that they were godly, learned men, and such as, through grace, had perfect understanding in di- vine things. To the fourth article he an- swered, that he liked the commu- nion used in king Edward's days; but that he had not ministered nor 654 BOOK OF martyrs: receired the same in England since the queen's reign, nor yet knew many, in this country, that had the books thereof; but on the other side the sea he knew many that had these books, and that there also he had received the communion in sundry places. To the fifth article, he confessed, that he had been familiar with many English men and women in Fri'esland, and agreed with them in opinion ; as Mr. Story, Thomas Young, George Roo, and others, to the number of one hundred persons, who fled thither on ac- count of their religion, using the same as was set forth in the reign of the good king Edward VI. ; but he denied the remaining contents of the article. Both the sixth and seventh arti- cles he acknowledged to be true. To the eighth article he an- swered, that since his last coming into England, (which was about the 10th of November), he had, in sundry places in the suburbs of London, prayed and read such prayers and service as are ap- pointed in the book of Commu- nion, and had desired others to do the like, both men and women, whom he knew by sight, but not by name. However, he did not cause any to M'ithdraw themselves from the Latin service; but only said, that it was better to pray in a tongue they understood, than in one they did not. To the ninth article he con- fessed, that at the time and place mentioned, he was present to hear divine service, and there was ap- prehended by the queen's vice- chamberlain, with one Simson, a tailor, and one Hugh, a hosier, with divers others, both men and women, whose names he knew not; and, by the said vice-cham- berlain, was brought before the council, who sent him to Newgate, from whence he was, soon after, brought before the bishop of Lon- don; but otherwise he denied the contents of this article. After Mr. Rough had given these answers to the articles ex- hibited against him, he was re- conducted to his place of confine- ment. On the 20th of December he was brought to the consistory court at St. Paul's, before Bonner, bishop of London, the bishop of St. Da- vid's, Fecknam, abbot of West- minster, and others, in order to undergo a final examination. After various methx)ds had been used by the court to persuade him to recant, without effect, Bonner read the articles, with his answers, beforemeutioned: he then charged him with marrying, after having received priestly orders ; and that he had refused to consent to the Latin service then used in the church. Mr. Rough answered, their or- ders were of no effect, and that the children he had by his wife were legitimate. With respect to the Latin service then used, he said, he utterly detested it, and that, were he to live as long as Methuselah, he would never go to church to hear the abominable mass. In consequence of this declara- tion the bishop proceeded to the ceremony of degradation; after wiiich he read the sentence of con- demnation, and Mr. Rough being delivered to the sheriff, was by him re-conducted to Newgate, there to remain till the time ap- pointed for his execution. EXAMINATION OF MARGARET MARING. This woman belonged to a pri- vate congregation in London, where Mr. Rough used to officiate. She was suspected by him, and some others, of not being sincere in the religion she professed; but the event shewed that their suspi- cions were ill-founded. An information being laid against her before the bishop of London, he sent an officer to her house near Mark-lane, in the city, to apprehend her; which being done, she was immediately MARGARET MARING. 655 brought before Lis lordship, who, after a short examination, sent her to Newgate. On the 18th of Decemher she vas again brought before the bi- shop, at his palace in London, in order to undergo a thorough exa- rainatian, relative to her religious principles. The usual articles being exhibited against her, she answered each respectively as fol- lows. 1. That there is here on earth a Catholic church, and thei-e is the true faith of Christ observed and kept in the same church. 2. That there are only two sa- craments in the church, namely, the sacrament of ^the body and blood of Christ, and the sacrament of Baptism. 3. That she was baptized in the faith and belief of the said church, renouncing there, by her godfa- thers and godmothers, the devil, and all his works. 4. That when she came to the age of fourteen years, she did not know what her true belief was, be- cause she was not then of discre- tion to understand the same, nei- ther yet was taught it. 5. That she had not gone from the Catholic faith at any time ; but she said that the mass was abo- minable in the sight of God, and all true Christian people. 6. Concerning the sacrament of the altar, she said, she believed there was no such sacrament in the Catholic church : that she ut- terly abhorred the authority of the bishop of Rome, with all the re- ligion observed in his anti-christian church. 7. That she had refused to come to her parish-church, because the true religion Avas not then used in the same ; and that she had not come into the church for the space of one year and three quarters, neither did mean to come any more to the same, in these idola- trous days. 8. She acknowledged that she was apprehended, and brought be- fore the bishop of London. These answers being- registered by the bishop's official, she was, for the present, remanded to pri- son. On the 20th of December she was again brought before the bi- shop at his consistory court, where her articles and answers were again read to her ; after which they asked her if she would stand to the same as they were regis- tered ? She answered, that she would stand to the same to her death; "for the very angels in heaven," said she, "laugh you to scorn, to see tiie abomination that you use in the church." The bishop then used various arguments to prevail on lier to re- cant ; but finding them all inef- fectual, he read the sentence of condemnation, and she was de- livered to the sheriff for execu- tion, vA\o re-conducted her to Newgate. Two days after this, on the 22d of December, 1557, she, with her fellow-martyr John Rough, were conducted, by the proper officers, to Sraithfield, where they were both fastened to one stake, and burnt in the same fire. They both behaved themselves with Christian fortitude, and cheerfully gave up their lives in testimony of the truth of that gospel, which was given to man by him from whom they hoped to receive an eternal reward in his heavenly kingdom. The following letters were writ- ten by Mr. Rough during his con- finement : TO HIS FRIENDS, CONFIRMING AND STRENGTHENING THEM IN THE TRUTH. The comfort of the Holy Ghost make you able to give consolation to others in these dangerous days, when Satan is let loose, but to the trial only of the chosen, when it pleaseth our God to sift his wheat from the chaft". I have not leisure and time to write the great temp- tations I have been under. I speak to God's glory ; my care was to have the senses of my soul open, to perceive the voice of God, saying, Whosoever denieth me f66 BOOK OF MARTYRS. before mcil, him wHl I deny before my Father and his angels. And to save the life corporal, is to lose the life eternal. And he that will not suffer with Christ, shall not reign with him. Therefore, most tender ones, I have, by God's Spi- rit, given over the flesh, with the fight of my soul, and the spirit Lath the victory. The flesh shall now, before it be long, leave ofl' to . sin, the spirit shall reign eternally. I have chosen death to confirm the truth by me taught. What can I do more ? Consider with yourselves, that 1 have done it for the confirm- ation of God's truth. Pray that I may continue unto the end. The greatest part of the assault is past, I praise my God. I have in all my assaults felt the present aid of my God, I give him most hearty thanks thereof. Look not back, nor be ye ashamed of Christ's gospel, nor of the bonds I have suffered for the same, thereby you may be assured it is the true wojd of God. The holy ones have been sealed with the same mark. It is no time, for the loss of one man in the battle, for the camp to turn back. Up with men's hearts, doM'n with the daubed walls of heresy. Let one take the banner, and the other the trumpet ; I mean not to make corporal resistance, but pray, and ye shall have Elias's defence, and Elizeus's company to fight for you. The cause is the Lord's. Now, my brethren, I can write no more, time will not suffer, and my heart with pangs of death is assaulted; but I am at home with my God, yet alive. Pray for me, and salute one another with the holy kiss. The peace of God rest with you all. Amen. From Newgate prison in haste, the day of my condemnation. John Rough. to his congregation, two days before he suffered. The Spirit of consolation be with you, aid you, and make you strong to run to the fight that is laid be- fore you, wherewithal God in all ages hatli tried his elect, and hath found them worthy of himself, by coupling to their head .Jesus Christ; in whom, whoso desireth to live godly, the same must needs suffer persecution. For it is given unto them, not only to believe, but also to suffer. And the servant or scholar cannot be greater than his lord and master : but by the same way the head is entered, the mem- bers must follow: no life is in the members which are cut from the body : likewise we have no life but in Christ: for by him we live, move, and have our being. My dear sons, now departing this life to my great advantage, I make change of mortality with immor- tality, of corruption to put on in- corruption, to make my body like unto the corn cast into the ground, which except it die first, it can bring forth no good fruit. Whercr fore death i^ to me great advan- tage : for thereby the body ceaseth from sin, and after turneth into the first original ; but after shall be changed, and made brighter than the sun or moon. What shall I write of this corporal death, see- ing it is decreed of God, that all men should once die ? Happy are they that die in the Lord, which is to die in the faith of Christ, pro- fessing and confessing the same before many witnesses. I praise my God I have passed the same journey by many temptations ; the devil is very busy to persuade the world, to entice with promises and fair words ; which I omit to write, lest some might think I did hunt after vain glory, which is farthest from my heart, Lastly, the dan- ger of some false brethren, who before the bishop of London pur- posed to confess an untruth to my face : yet the God that ruled Ba- laam, moved their hearts ; where they thought to speak to my accu- sation, he made ^lem speak to my purgation. What a journey (by God's power) I have made these eight days before this day, it is above flesh and blood to fear : but, as St. Paul saith, I may do all things in him which worketh in me, iesus Christ. My course, bre- JOttl^J ROUGH. 657 threii, have 1 run, I have fought a j?ood fight, the crown of righteous- ness is laid up for me, my day to receive it is at hand. Pray, bre- thren, for the enemy doth yet as- sault. Stand constant unto the end, then shall you possess your souls. Walk worthily in that vo- cation wherein yoU are called. Comfort the brethren. Salute one another in my name. Be not ashamed of the gospel of the cross, by me preached, nor yet of my suffering | for with my blood I affirm the same. I go before, I suffer first the baiting of the butch- ers' dogs ; yet I have not done what I should have done ; but my weakness, I doubt not, is supplied in the strength of Jesus Clirist ; and your wisdom and learning will accept the small talent, which I have distributed unto yoa (osco, (perhaps lioscomb) in Wilts, de- ferred their execution, until he re- ceived the writ De comhvreudu ; and was supported therein by Mr. justice Brown, on which he left the town, and the chancellor rode after FOX'S IIARTYRS. him, to know why he had not seen them executed. "The sherilf hearing; the chan- cellor's words, and seeing him so urgent upon him, lold bitn again that he was no babe, which now was to be taught of him. If he Lad any writ to warrant and dis- charge him in bi;rniug tliuse nieu, 44 690 BOOK OF MARTYRS. thcH he knew what he had to do ; but if you have no other writ but that which you signed, I tell you, I will neither burn them for you, nor any of you all. " Where note again (good reader) how by this it may be thought and supposed, that the other poor saints and martyrs of God, such as had been burned at Salisbury before, were burned be- like without any authorized or sufficient writ from the superiors, but only from the information of the chancellor and of the close. "Dr. Geoffrey, the chancellor, thus sent away from the sheriff", went home, and there fell sick upon the same. "The under sheriff" to this sir Anthony Hungerford, above named, was one Mr. Michell, a godly man. So that not long after this came down the writ to burn the above- named Richard White and John Hunt ; but the under sHerift' said, I will not be guilty of these men's blood : and immediately burnt the writing, and departed his way. Within four days after, the chan- cellor died ; concerning whose death this cometh by the way to be noted, that these two aforesaid, John Hunt, and Richard White, being at the same time in a low and dark dungeon, suddenly fell to such a weeping (but how they could not tell) that they could not pray one word ; the first word they heard in the morning was, that the chancellor was dead, which happened the same hour when they fell into such a sudden weeping. Richard White and John Hunt, after the death of the chancellor, the bishop also being dead a little before, continued still in prison till the happy coming in of queen Elizabeth ; and so were set at liberty." DEATH OF QUEEN MARY. Happy are we to say, that the five persons mentioned above com- pleted the number of human sa- crifices in this island. They were the last who fell victims to gratify the malevolent heart of Bonner, and tlve bigoted zeal of the unfeel- ing and relentless Mary. The queen's health had been long declining. She had, for some time, been afflicted with the dropsy, the consequence of a false con- ception, and of the improper re- gimen which she pursued. Her malady was greatly augmented by the anxiety of her mind, which was a prey to the most painful re- ffections. The consciousness of being hated by her subjects ; the mortification of being childless; the fear of leaving her crown to a sister, whom she detested ; the approaching ruin that threatened the Catholic religion in England on her death ; the indiff'erence of her husband, (Philip of Spain) who, never having loved her, had now ceased to treat her even with the outward shew of afi"ection, and had retired into his own country in disgust: all these painful cir- cumstances preyed upon her mind, and at length threw her into a slow fever, of which she died on the 17th of November, 1558, in the forty-third year of her age, and the sixth of her reign. When we consider the bigoted zeal of this infatuated princess, and the great number of valuable lives sacrificed through her arbi- trary mandates, we are naturally led to condemn her, first, as a fel- low-creature, and next, as a sove- reign ; but more particularly in the latter character, because, as Providence had placed her in so distinguished a rank, she should have held out the arm of protec- tion to her subjects, instead of the sword of destruction. But the whole progress of her reign does not furnish us with a single in- stance of merit in her, either as a woman or a sovereign- On the contrary, all her actions were of the most horrid and gloomy cast ; and the barbarities she committed, during her reign, were such as to exceed description. With her the practice of religion became the trade of murder, and the care of her people the exercise of her cruelty ; while all her views for WILMOT AND FAIRFAX. 691 their Lappincss, terminated in pu- nishments for their virtues. Her bigotry infected every branch of government, and weakened every band of society. She had not any thing engaging, either in her per- son, lier behaviour, or her address: her understanding was confined within very narrow limits, and her temper was morose and gloomy ; while obstinacy, bigotry, violence, malignity, revenge, and tyranny, directed all her actions. The death of queen Mary re- vived the drooping spirits of the long-oppressed protestants. They now anticipated the peaceful pe- riod, when they should no longer be persecuted for their religion ; and when their virtues would not expose them, to the rage of igno- rance and bigotry. Nor were they mistaken : Eli- zabeth was as strong an advocate for the protestant religion, as her predecessor had been inveterate against it. No sooner did slie as- cend the throne, than her atlcsilion was directed to the protcctisju of the professors of the reformed re- ligion ; but she did this in so wise and prudent a manner, as to pre- vent any disturbance from the op- posite party. By herdistinguished management, in a siiort time, she fixed the protestant religion on so solid a basis, as to prevent its being again overthrown, and ever since her reign, though various attempts have been made to destroy it, tliey have all terminated in the defeat of the conspirators, and the ruin of their projects. Tliat they may always so terminate, should be the fervent prayer of every one who prefers purity to corruption, and the decent ritual of the reformed church, to the frivolous ceremo- nies and pompous nothingness af the Popish worship. SECTION XVII. A TREATISE CONCERNING THOSE THAT WERE SCOURGED BY THE PA- PISTS, FOR THE CAUSE OF THE GOSPEL, AND THOSE, WHO, AFTER VARIOUS SUFFERINGS, ESCAPED." malice of our enemies, and become the tower of oar refuge and the rock of our salvation. After this bloody slaughter of God's saints and servants thus ended and discussed, let us now proceed (by God's assistance) to treat of such as for the same cause of religion have been, though not put to death, yet v/hipped and scourged by the enemies of God's word, iiist beginning with Richard Wilmot and Tliomas Fairfax, who, about the time of Anne Askew, were miserably rent and tormented with scourges and stripes, for their faithful standing to Christ and his truth, as by the story and exami- nation of them both may appear. THE SCOURGING OF RICHARD WIL- MOT AND THOMAS FAIRFAX. After the first recantation of Dr. Crome, for his sermon which h« made tiie fifth Sunday in Lent, at St. Thomas Acres^ being the The following " Treatise" con- cerning those persons who, though not actually put to death, were yet persecuted and cruelly treated by the enemies of the gospel, is so in- teresting, and so worthy of preser- vation on many accounts, that we should consider our work very in- complete, and we doubt not our readers would be of the same opi- nion, were we to omit it ; we there- fore give it entire, and wish to di- rect particular attention to that part which relates to the marvellous preservation of many of those whom the agents of Antichrist had devoted to destruction ; from this a consoling reflection may be drawn, — that, however desperate onr condition may seem in the eyes of the world, there is One who can assist us ; and, however we may be surrounded, " shot at, and sore grieved, by the archers," tTe who smote the army of Sennacherib, as it were with a whirlwind, will de- liver u^ in his good time, from the 692 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Mercers* cliapej, Lis sermon v.as on tlie Epistle of llic same day, written in the tentit chapter to the Hebrews ; wherein he very learn- edly proved by the same place of scripture and other.?, that Christ was the only and sudicient sacrifice unto God the Father for the sins of the whole world, and that there was no more sacrifice to be offered for sin by the priests, forasmuch as Christ had ofl'ered his body on the cross, and shed his blood for the sins of the people, and that once for all. For which sermon he was appre- hended by Bonner, and broufrht before Steplien Gardiner and others of the council, where he promised to recant his doctrine at St. Paul's Cross, the second Sunday after Easter. And accordin2;ly he was there and preached, Bonner with all his doctors sittinu: before him : but he so preached and handled his matter, that he rather verified his former saying, than denied any part of that which he before had preaelied. For which the pro- testants praised God, and heartily rejoiced. Bishop Bonner and iiis cham- pions were not at all pleased there- with, but yet notwithstanding they took him home with them, and he was so handled among the wolfish generation, that they made him come to the Cross again the next Sunday. And because the magistrates should now hear him, and be wit- ness of this recantation, which was most blasphemous, to deny Christ's sacrifice to be sulhcient for peni- tent sinners, and to say that the sacrifice of the mass was good, godly, and an holy sacrifice, propi- tiatory and available both for the quick and the dead : because (I say) that they would liave the no- bles to hear this blasphemous doc- trine, the viperous generation pro- cured all the cliief of tlie council to be there present. Now to come to our matter: at this time, the same week, between his first sermon and the last, and while Dr. Crome was in durance, one Richard Wilmot, being appren- 2 tice in Bow-lane, of the age of 18 years, and sitting at work in his master's shop, in the month of Juiyj one Lewis, a Welehman, being one of the guard, came into the shop, having things to do for him- self. One asked him what news at the court, and he answered, that the old heretic. Dr. Crome, had re- canted now indeed before the coun- cil, and that he should on Sunday next be at St. Paul's Cross again, and there declare it. Then Wilmot sitting at his mas- ter's work, and hearing him speak these words, and rejoicing in the same, began to speak unto him, saying, that he was sorry to hear this news : for (said he) if Crome should say otherwise than he hath said, then is it contrary to the truth of God's word, and contrary to his own conscience, which shall before God accuse him. Lewis answered and said, that he had preaciied and taught he- res3' ; and therefore it was meet that he should in such a place re- voke it. Wilmot told him that he would not so say, neither did he hear him preach any doctrine contrary to God's written word, but that he proved his doctrine, and that suf- Ijciently, by the scriptures. Lewis then asked him how he knew that ? Wilmot answered, by the scrip- tures of God, Vvdierein he shall find God's v.ill and pleasure, what he willeth all men to do, and what not to do ; and also by them he shall prove and try all doctrines, and the false doctrine from the true. Lewis said, it was never well since the Bible was translated into English ; and that he was both au heretic and a traitor that caused it to be translated into English ; (meaning Cromwell), and therefore was rewarded according to his deserts. Wilmot answered again, W^hat liis deserts and offences were to his priiice a great many do not know, noitlu-r is it of any force whether they do or no : since he WILMOT AND FAIRFAX. 603 ■was sure be lost Lis life for offend- in<; his priiico, and the law did put it in execution ; addini? moreover, conceruiriL; that man, that he ihou^^iit it pleased God to raiiie him trom a low estate, and to place him in hi<;h authority, partly utUo this, tliat he should do that which all the bishops ia the realm yet never did, in restoring,- again God's holy word, which being hid Ion-? before from the people in a strange tongue, and now coming abroad amongst us, will bring our bishops and priests, said he, in less esti- mation among the people. Lewis asked. Why so ? Wilmot said, Jiecause their doc- trine and liviiJg is not ugreeab'.e to his word. Then said Lewis, I never beard but that all men should learn of the bishops and priests, because they are learned men, and have been brought up in learning all the days of their lives. Wlierefore they must needs know the truth, and our fathers did believe their doe- trine and learning, and I think they did well, for the world was far better then than it is now. Wilmot answered, I v.ill not say so : for vi^e must not believe them because they are bishops, neither because they are learned, neither because our forefathers did follow their doctrine. For I have read in God's book, how that bishops and learned men have taught the peo- ple false doctrine, and likewise the priests from time to time, and in- deed those people our forefathers believed as they taught, and as they thought, so thought the peo- ple. But for all this Christ calleth them false prophets, thieves, and murderers, blind leaders of the blind, willing the people to take heed of them, lest they should both fall into the ditch. Moreover we read, that the bi- shops, priests, and learned men have been commonly resisters of the truth from time to time, and have always persecuted the pro- phets in the old law, as their suc- cessors did persecute our Saviour Christ and his disciples in the new law. We must tuke heed there- fore that we credit tliem no further than God will have us, neither fol- low them nor our forefathers other- wise tiian he conimmideth us. For Ahuiglity God hath given to all people, as well to kings and prin- ces, as bisl:ops, priests, learned and unlearned men, a command- ment and law, unto v» hicli he will- eth all men to be obedient. There- fore if any bishop or priest preach or teach, or prince or magistrate command any thing contrary to hi.s commandment, we must take heed how v.e obey them. For it is better for us to obey God than man. Marry, sir, quoth Lewis, you arc an holy doctor indeed. By God's blood, if you were my man, I would set you about your business a little belter, and not sull'er you to look upon books, and so would your master if he were wise. And with that in came his master, and a young man witli him, who was a servant to Mr. Daubney, in Wat- ling-strcet. His master asked him what was the matter. Lewis said, that he had a knavish boy Jiera to his servant, and how that if he were his, he would ra- ther hang him than keep him in his house. Then his master being somewiiat moved, asked his fellows wliat the matter was. They said, they began to talk about Dr. Cromc. Then his master asked what he had said, swearing a great oath, that he would make him tell him. He said. That he trusted he had said nothing, wherewitii either he or Mr. Lev, is might justly be of- fended. I pray (quoth Wilmot), ask him what I said. Marry (said Lewis), this he said. That Dr. Crome did preach and teach nothing but the truth, and hov/ that if he recanted on Sun- day next, he should be sorry to hear it, and that if he do, he is made to do it against his con- science. And more he saith, that Me must not follow our bishooi' 694 BOOK OF MARTYIIS. doctrine and preaching : for, saitli lie, they be Viinderers of God's word, and persecutors of that ; and how Cromwell (that traitor) did more good in setting forth the Bi- ble, than all our bishops have done these hundred years : thus report- ing the matter worse than it really was. His master hearing this, was in a great fury, and rated him, saying, that either he would be hanged or burned, swearing that he would take away all his boolcs and burn them. The young man (Mr. Daubney's servant) standing by hearing this, began to speak on his part unto Lewis, and his talk conhrmed all the sayings of the other to be true. This young man was learned, his name was Thomas Fairfax. Lewis hearing this man's talk as well as the other's, w ent his way in a rage to the court. On the next day they heard, that the said Wilmot and Fairfax were sent for to come to the lord mayor. The messenger was Mr. Smart, the sword-bearer of Lon- don. They came before dinner to the mayor's house, and were com- manded to sit down to dinner in the ball ; and when dinner was done, they were both called into a parlour, where the mayor and sir lloi!;er Cholmley was, who examin- ed "them severally, the one not hearing the other. The effect of their discourse was this ; sir Roger Cholmley said to "Wilmot, that my lord mayor and he had received a commandment from the council, to send for him and his company, and to examine them of certain things which were laid to their charge. Then said Cholmley to him, Sirrah, wiiat countryman art thou ? He answered. That he was born in Cambridgeshire, and in such a town. 'I'hen he asked him how long he had known Dr. Crome. He said, about two years. Then he called him a lying boy, and said that he (tiie said Witmot) was his son. Tlie other said unto him, fliat was unlike, for that he never saw his mother nor she him. Cholmley said he lied. Wilmot said he could prove it to be true. Then he asked him how he liked his ser- mon that he made at St. Thomas Acres chapel in Lent. He said that indeed he heard him not. He said yes and the other nay. Then said he. What say you to this ser- mon made at the Cross the last day, heard you not that ? WUmot. Yes, and in that ser- mon he deceived a great number of people. C/tolmlei/. How so ? Wilmot. For that they looked that he should have recanted his doctrine that he taught before, and did not, but rather confirmed it. Cholmley. Yea, sir, but how say you now to him ? For he hath re- canted before the council ; and hath promised ou Sunday next to be at the Cross again : how think you of that? Wihnot. If he so did, I am the more sorry to hear it ; and said, he thought he did it for fear and safeguard of his life. Cholmley. But what say you? Was his lirst sermon heresy or not? Wilmvt. No, I suppose it was no heresy. For if it were, St. Paul's epistle to the Hebrews was heresy, and Paul an heretic that preached such doctrine ; but God forbid that any Christian man should so think of the holy apostle ; neither do I so think. Cholmley. Why, how knowest thou that St. Paul wrote those things that are in English now, to be true, whereas Paul never wrote English or Latin ? Wihiot. I am certified that learned men of God, that did seek to advance his word, did translate the same out of the Greek and He- brew into Latin and English, and that they durst not presume to alter the sense of the scripture of God, and last will and testament of Christ Jesus. Then the lord mayor, being in a great fury, asked him what he had to do to read such books, and said, WILMOT AND FAIRFAX. 69i that it was a pity that his master did suffer him so to do, and that he was not set hotter to work; and in fine said unto him, that he had spolcen evil of my lord of Win- chester, and bishop Bonner, those reverend and learned fathers and counsellors of this realm, for which his act he saw no other but be must suffer, as was due to the same. And sir R. Cholmley said. Yea, my lord, there is such a sort of heretics and traitorous knaves taken now in Essex by my lord Rich, that it is too wonderful to hear. They shall be sent to the bishop shortly, and shall be hanged and burned all. WUmot. I am sorry to hear that of my lord Rich, for that he was my godfather, and gave me my name at my baptism. Cholmley asked him when he spake with him. He said, not these twelve years. Cholmle}/. if he knew that you were such a one, he Avould do the like by you, and in so doing he should do God great service. Wilmot. I have read the same saying in the gospel that Christ said to his disciples, " The time shall come," saith he, ''that who- soever killeth you, shall think that he shall do God good service." Well, sir, said Cholmley, be- cause you are so full of your Scripture, and so well learned, we consider you lack a quiet place to study in. Therefore you shall go to a place where you sliall be most quiet, and I would wish you to study how you will answer to the council of those things which they have to charge you with, for else it is like to cost you your best joint. I know my lord of Win- chester will handle you well enough, when he heareth thus much. Then was the officer called in to have him to the Compter, in the Poultry, and the other to the other Compter, not one of them to see another; and thus they re- mained eight days. In which time their masters made great suit to the lord mayor, and to sir Ro- ger Cholmley, to know their of- fences, and that they might be de- livered. At length they procured the wardens of the company of Dra- pers to labour with them in their suit to the mayor. The mayor went with them to the council: but at that time they could iind no grace at Winchester's hand, and sir Antony Browne's, but that they had deserved death, and that they should have the law. At length, through much en- treaty, he granted them this fa- vour, that they should not die as they had deserved, but should be tied to a cart's tail, and be whip- ped three market-days through the city. Thus they came home that day, and went another day, and the master and wardens of the company petitioned on their knees to have this open punish- ment released, forasmuch as they were servants of so worshipful a company, and that they might be punished in their own hall, before the wardens, and certain of the company, which at length was granted. The next day they appeared be- fore the masters in the h^U, their own masters being present, where they were charged with heresy and treason, for which, they were told, they deserved death, and this was declared, with a long process, by Mr. Brookes, the mas- ter of the company, declaring what labour and suit the mayor and wardens had made for then», to save them from death, which they (as he said) had deserved, and from open shame, which they should have had, being judged by the council to have been whipped three days through the city, at a cart's tail, and from these two dangers they had laboured to de- liver them, but not without great trouble and charge. For (said he) the company hath promised to the council for this their mercy to- wards them, an hundred pounds ; notwithstanding, we must see tlicm punished in our hall, within ourselves, for those their offences. After these, and many other 696 BbOK OF MARTYRS. woids, he commanded them fo prepaie tliemselves to receive their punishment. Tlien they were put asunder, aad stiipped from li:e waist up- v/ard, one alter another, and were had into the nsidst of the hall, where they were wont to make their fire; there was a great rin<^ of iron, to which there was a rope, t'ed fast, aivd one of their feet tied fast to that. Then came down two men dis- guised in mummer's apparel, with vizors on their faces, and they heat them with great rods till the hlood flowed out of their bodies. As for V/ihuot, he could not lie in his bed for six nights after, for Brookes played the tyraat witli them; so that, with tiie pain and fear, they were never in health af- terwards, as the said Wilmot with his mouth hath credibly informed us, and we can do no less than tes- tify the same. Thus liave we briefly declared this little tragedy, wherein we may note the malice of the ene- mies at all times to those who pro- fess Christ, and take his part, of what estate or degree soever they be, according to the apostle's say- ing, " It is given unto you not only to believe, but also to sutler with him." To whom be honour and glory, Amen. THE SCOURGING OF THOMAS GREEN, PRINTER, WRITTEN BY HIS OV/N HAND. In the reign of queen Mary, I, Thomas Green, being brought be- fore Dr. Story, by my master, whose name is John Wayland, a printer, for a book called vinti- christ, which had been distributed to certain honest men; he asked me where I had the book, and said I was a traitor. I told him I had the book of a Frenchman. Then he asked me more questions, but I told him I could tell him no more. Then he said, it was no heresy, but treason, and that I should be hanged, drawn, and quartered; and so he called for Cluny, the keeper of the Lollards' Tower, and bid hira set me fast id the stocks; and he took me out, and carried me to the Coal-house, and there I found a Frenchman lying in the stocks, and he look him out, and put a bolt and a fet- ter on my right leg, and another on my left hand, and so he set me cross-fettered in the stocks, and took tbe Frenchman away with him, and there 1 lay a day and a night. On the morrow after, he came and said, Let me shift your hand and your leg, because you shall not be lame ; and he made as though he pitied me, and said. Tell me the truth, and I will be your friend. And I said, I had told the truth, and could tell no otherwise. Then he put only my leg in the stocks, and so went his way, and there I remained six days, and would come to no answer. Then Dr. Story sent for me, and asked me whether I would tell him the truth, where I had the book. I said I had told him, of a Frenchman. He asked me where I came acquainted with the Frenchman, wiiere he dwelt, and where he delivered me the book. I said, I came acquainted with him in Newgate, T coming to my friends who were put in for God's word and truth's sake, and the Frenchman coming to his friends also, there we talked together, and became acquainted one with another, and did eat and drink to- gether there, with our friends, in the fear of God. Then Story scoffed at me, and said, Then there was brother in Christ, and brother in Christ; and reviled me, and called me an he- retic, and asked me if I had the book of him in Newgate. I said. No ; and I told him, as T went on my business in the street, I met him, and he asked me how I did, and I him also; so falling into dis- course, he shewed me that book, and I desired him that he would let me have it. In this examination Story said, it was a great book, and asked me whether I bought it, or had it THOMAS GllEEN. 697 jfiven me. I told him I boui^ht it. Then he said, I was a thief, and had stolen my master's money. And I said, a little money served, for I j^ave him but four-pence, but I promised him, tiiat at our next meetinj;- I would give him tv/clve- pence more. And he said, that was boldly done, for such a book as spake both treason and heresy. Then Story required me to bring him two sureties and watch for him that I had the book of, and I should have no harm. I made him answer, I would bring no sureties, uor could I tell where to find them. Then said he, This is but a lie; and so called for Cluny, and bid him lay me fast in the Coal-house, saying, he would make me tell another tale at my next coming ; and so I lay in the stocks, day and night, but only when I eat my meat, and there re- mained ten days before I was called for again. Then Dr. Story sent for me again, and asked if I would yettell him the truth; I said, I neither could nor would tell him any other truth than I had done already. And while I was there standing, there were two brought, which I took to be prisoners. Then Mrs. Story fell in a rage, and sware a great oath, that it were a good deed to put a hun- dred or two of these heretic knaves in an house, and I myself (said she) would set it on fire ! So I was committed to prison again, where I remained fourteen days, and came to no answer. Then Story sent for me again, and called me into the garden, where I found with him my lord of Windsor's chaplain, and two gen- tlemen more, and he told them all what they had said and done. They said, the book was a won- drous evil book, and had both treason and heresy in it. They then asked me what I said of the book. And I said, I knew no evil by it. At which words Story chafed, and said he would hang me up by the hand with a rope; and said also, he would cut out my tongue, and mine ears also from my head. After this they alleged two or three things unto me out of the book. And I answered, I had not read the book throughout, and there- fore could give no judgment of it. Then my lord of Windsor's chaplain and the other two gentle- men took me aside, and entreated me very gently, saying. Tell us where you had the book, and of whom, and we will save you harm- less. I made them answer, that I had told all I could to Dr. Story, and began to tell it them again: but they said, they knew that al- ready ; so they left tiiat talk, and went again with me to Story. Then Story burdened me with my faith, and said I was an here- tic. Whereupon the chaplain asked me how I did believe. Then I began to rehearse the ar- ticles of my belief, but he bid me let that alone. Then he asked me how I believed in Christ. I made him answer, that I believed in Christ, who died, and rose again the third day, and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father. Whereupon Story asked me mockingly. What is the right hand of God '. I made him answer, I thought it was his glory. Then said he. So they say all. And he asked me, when he would be , weary of sitting there! Then inter- fered my lord of Windsor's chap- Iain, asking me what I said to the mass. I said, I never kpew what it was, nor what it meant, for I understood it not, because I never learned any Latin, and since the time I had any knowledge, I had been brought up in nothing but in reading of English, and with such men as have taught the same; with many more questions, which I cannot rehearse. Moreover, he asked me if there were not the very body of Christ, flesh, blood, and bone, in the mass, after the priest had conse- crated it. And I made him an- answer, As for the mass, I cannot understand it; but in the New Testament I read, that as the apos- 698 BOOK OF MARTYRS. ties stood looktng after the Lord when he ascended up into heaven, an angel said to them, " Even as ye see him ascend up, so shall he come ag:ain." And I told them another sentence, where Christ saith, " The poor shall you have always with you, but lue ye shall ngt have always." Then Mr. Chaplain put many more questions to me, to which I made no answer. Among others, he brought Chrysostom and St. Hie- rome, for his purpose. To whom I answered, that I neither minded nor was able to answer their doctors, neither knew whether they alleged them right, or no, but to that which is written in the New Testament I would answer. Here they laughed me to scorn, and called me fool, and said, they would reason no more with me. Then Dr. Story called for Cluny, and bid him take me away, and set me fast, and let no man speak with me. So I was sent to the Coal- house; where I had not been a week, but there came in fourteen prison- ers: but I was kept still alone with- out company, in a prison called Salt-house, having upon my leg a bolt and a fetter, and my hands ma- nacled together with irons, and there continued ten days, having nothing to lie on, but bare stones or a board. On a time whilst I lay there in prison, the bishop of London com- ing down a pair of stairs on the backside undrest, in his hose and doublet, looked through the grate, and asked wherefore I was put in, and who put me in. I made him answer, that I was put in for a book called Antichrist, by Dr. Story. And he said, You are not ashamed to declare wherefore you were put in ! and said it was a very wicked book, and bid me con- fess the truth to Story. I said, I had told the truth to him already, and desired him to be good unto me, and help me out of prison, for they had kept me there a long time. And he said he could not meddle with it; Story had begun, and he must end it. Then I was removed out of the Salt-house to give place to two wo- men, and carried to the Lollards' Tower, and put in the stocks; and there I found two prisoners, one called Lion, a Frenchman, and an- otiier with him: and so I was kept in the stocks more than a month both day and night, and no man suf- fered to come to me, or to speak with me, but only my keeper. Thus we three being together, Lion, the Frenchman, sung a psalm in the French tongue, and we sang with him, so that we were heard down in the street, and the keeper coming up in a great rage, sware that he would put all in the stocks, and so took the Frenchman, and commanded him to kneel down upon his knees, and put both his hands in the stocks, where he remained all that night till the next day. After this, I being in Lollards' Tower seven days, since my last being with Story, he sware a great oath, that he would rack me, and make me tell the truth. Then Story sending for me, commanded me to be brought to Walbrook, where he and the commissioners dined ; and by the way the keeper told me that I should go to the Tower to be racked. So when they had dined. Story called for me in, and so there I stood before them, and some said I was worthy to be hanged for having such heretical books. After I had staid a little while before them. Story called for the keeper, and command- ed him to carry me to the Lollards' Tower again, and said he had other matters of the queen's to. do with the commissioners, but he would find another time for me. Whilst I lay yet in the Lollards' Tower the wo- man which brought me the books over, was taken, and her books were put in the Clink, in Southwark, by H'ussey, one of the arches ; and I Thomas Green do testify before God, now, that I neither discovered the man nor the woman of whom I had the books. "Then I lying in the Lollards' Tow- er, being sent for before Mr. Hus- sey, he required of me, wherefore I was put into the Lollards' Tower, THOMAS GREEN. 6&9 Qnd by whom. To whom I answer- ed, that I was put there by Dr. Sto- ry, for a book calh;d Antichrist. Then he made as thougli he would be my friend, and said he knew my friends, and my father and mother, and bid me tell him of whom 1 had the book, and said. Come on, tell me the truth. I told him as I had told Dr. Story before. Then he was angry, and said, I love thee well, and therefore I send for thee, and looked for a further truth : but I could tell him no other ; whereupon he sent me again to the Lollards' Tower. At my going away he called me back again, and said, that Dixon gave me the books, being an old man, dwelling in Birch- in-lane ; and I said he knew the matter better tlian I. So he sent me away to the Lollards' Tower, where 1 remained seven days and more. Then Mr. Hussey sent for me again, and required of me to tell him the truth. I told him I could tell him no other truth than I had told Dr. Story before. Then he began to tell me of Dix- on, of whom, he said, I had the books, who had made the matter manifest before ; and he told me of all things touching Dixon and the books, more than I could myself, in- somuch that he told me how many I had, and that he had a sack full of them in his house, and knew where the woman lay, better than myself. Then I saw the matter so open and manifest before my face, that it signifled nothing for me to stand in it. He asked me what I had done with the books, and I told him I had but one, and that Dr. Story had. He said I lied, for I had three at one time, and he re- quired me to tell him of one. Then I told him of one that John Beane had of me, being apprentice with Mr. Tottle. So he promised me before and after, and as he should be saved before God, that he should have no harm. And I kneeling down upon ray knees, desired him to take my blood, and not to hurt the young man. Then he said. Be- cause you have been so stubborn, the matter being made manifest by others and not by you, being so long in prison, tell me if you will stand to my judgment. I said, Yea, take my blood, and hurt not the young man. Then he told me, 1 should be whipped like a thief and a vaga- bond : and so I thanked him, and went my way with the keeper to the Lollards' Tower, where I remained two or three days, and so was brought by the keeper, Cluny, by the commandment of the commis- sioners, to Christ's Hospital, some- time the Grey-Friars, and accord- ingly had there for that time the correction of thieves and vagabonds; and so was delivered to Trinian, the porter, and put into a stinking dungeon. And after a few days, I finding friendship, was let out of the dun- geon, and lay in a bed in the night, and walked in a yard by the dun- geon in the day-time, and so re- mained prisoner a month and more. At length Dr. Story came, and two gentlemen with him, and called for me, and I was brought before them. Then he said to the gentle- men. Here cometh this heretic, of whom I had the book called Anti- christ; and began to tell them how many times I had been before him, and said, I have entreated him very gently, and he would never tell me the truth, till he was found out by others. Then said he. It were a good deed to cut out thy tongue, and thy ears off thy head, to make thee an example to all other heretic knaves. And the gentlemen said. Nay, that were pity. Then he ask- ed if I would not become an honest man : and I said. Yes, for I have oflended God many ways. Where- uponhe burdened me with my faith; I told him that I had made him an- swer of my faith before m}- lord Windsor's chaplain as much ^s I could. So in the end he commanded me to be stripped, he standing by me, and called for two of the beadles and the whips to whip me; and the two beadles came with a cord, and bound ray hands together, and the 700 BOOK OF MARTYRS. one end of the cord to a stone pillar. Then cue of my friends, called Ni- cholas Priestraau, hearing them call for whips, hurled in a bundle of rods, which seemed something;,- to pacify the mind of his cruelty ; and they scourged me with rods. But as they were whipping of me. Story asked me if I would go unto my master again, and I said nay. And he said, I perceive now he will be worse than ever he was before; but let me alone (quoth he,) I will find him out if he be in England. And so with many other things, which I cannot rehearse, when they had done whipping of me, they bid me pay my fees, and go my ways. Dr. Story comma.nded that I should have an hundred stripes, but the gentlemen so entreated, that I had not so many. Story saying, If I might have my will, I would surely cut out his tongue. A LETTER FROM STEPHEN GOTTEN, WHO WAS UEATEN TWICE BY BISHOP BONNER, BEFORE HE WAS BURNT AT BRENTFORD. Brother, in the name of the Lord Jesus, I commend me unto you, and I do heartily thank you, for your godly exhortation and counsel in your last letter declared to me. And albeit I do perceive by your letter, you are informed, that as we are divers persons in number, so wo are of contrary sects, conditions, and opinions, contrary to the good opinion you had of us at your last being with us in Newgate ; be you most assured, good brother, in the Lord Jesus, we are all of one mind, one faith, one assured hope in the Lord Jesus, whom I trust we alto- gether with one spirit, one brotherly love, do daily call upon for mercy and forgiveness of our sins, with earnest repentance of our former lives, and by whose precious blood- shedding we trust to be saved only, and by no other means. Where- fore, good brother, in the name of the Lord, seeing these impudent people, whose minds are altogether bent to wickedness, envy, uncha- ritableness, evil speaking, do go about to slander us with untruth, believe them not, neither let their wicked sayings once enter into your mind. And I trust one day to see you again, although now I am in God's prison, which is ajoyful school for them that love their Lord God, and to me, being a simple scholar, most joyful of all. Good brother, once again I do, in the name of our Lord Jesus, exhort you to pray for me, that I may tight strongly in the Lord's battle, to be a good soldier to my captain Jesus Christ our Lord, and desire my sis- ter also to do the same, and do not ye mourn or lament for me, but be ye glad and joyful at this my trou- ble: for I trust to be loosed out of this dungeon shortly, and to go to everlasting joy, which never shall have end. I heard how ye were with the commissioners. I pray you, sue no more for me, good brother. But one thing I shall desire you, to be at my departing out of this life, that you may bear witness with me that I shall die, I trust in God, a true christian, and, I hope, all my companions in the Lord our God : and therefore believe not these evil- disposed people, who are the au- thors of all untruths. Thus fare you all. From the Coal-house, this present Friday. Your brother, Stephen Gotten. THE scourging OF JAMES HARRIS, In this society of the scourged professors of Christ, was also one James Harris, of Billerica, in Essex, a stripling of the age of seventeen years ; who being apprehended and sent up to Bonner in the company of Margaret Ellis, by sir John Mordaunt, knight, and Edmund Tyrrel, justice of peace (as appeareth by their own letters before mentioned,) v/as by Bon- ner divers times strictly exa- mined. In which examinations he was charged not to have come to his parish church for the space of one year or more. Whereuiito he granted, confessing therewithal, that once, for fear, he had been at the church, and there had received ROBERT WILLIAMS, AND OTHERS. 701 the popish sacrament of the altar, fgr whicli ho was heartily sorry, de- testing; the same with all his heart. After this, and sueh like answers, Bonner (the better to try him) per- suaded him to g;o to confession. The lad, somcAvhat to fulfil his re- quest, consented to p,o, and did. But when he came to the priest, he stood still, and said nothing;. Why, quoth the priest, SEjyest thou no- thing ? What shall I say ? said Kar- ris. Thou must confess thy sins, said the priest. My sins, said he, be so many that they cannot be num- bered. With that the priest told Bonner what he had said; and he, of his accustomed devotion, took the poor lad into his c:arden, and there, with a rod, taken from oil' a cherry-tree, did most cruelly whip him, THE SCOURGIXG OF UOCEUT WIL- LIAMS, A SMITH. Kobert Williams, bcinsc appre- hended in the same company, was so tormented after the same manner with rods iu his arbour, w!io there subscribino; and yielding liimself by promise to obey the laws, after being let go, refused so to go: whereupon he was earnestly sought for, but could not be found, for that he kept himself close, and went not abroad but by stealth: and now in the mean time of this ))ersecution, this Robert Williams departed this life, and so escaped the hands of his enemies. The Lord therefore be honoured for ever, Amen. THE WHIPPING OF A EEGGAR AT SALISBURY. Unto these above specified, is also to be added the miserable whipping of a poor starved beggar, who, because he would not receive the sacrament at Easter, in the town of Colingborow, was brought to Salisbury, with bills and glieves, to the chancellor Dr. Geffery, who cast him into the dungeon, and after causedhim miserably to be whipped by two catch-poles. The sight whereof made all godly hearts to rue it, to see such tyranny to be shewed upon such a simple ,and silly vvretch : for they that saw him have reported, that they never saw a more simple creature. But what pity can move the hearts of merci- less papists ? PERSECUTION AND DELIVERANCE OF WILLIAM LIVING, WITH HIS WIFE, AND OF JOHN LITHAL, MINISTER. About the latter end of queen Mary's reign, she then being sick, came one Cox, a promoter, to the house of William Living, about six o'clock, accompanied with one John Lauace, of the Greyhound. They being not ready, they demanded some buttons, saying, they should be as well paid for them as any; and he would come about three hours after for them again. Tn the mean time he procured one ?ilr. Dean, the constable, and George Kancock, the beadle of that ward, and searching his books, found a book of Astronomy, called the work of Joannes de Sacro Bosco de Sphjcra, with figures, some round, some tria.ngle, some quadrangle, which book, because it was gilt, seemed to him the chief book there, and that he carried open in the street, saying, I have fouud him at length. It is no wonder the queen be sick, seeing there be such con- jurers in privy corners; but now I trusthe shall conjure no more ! And so brought him and his wife from Shoe-lane through Fleet-street, in- to St. Paul's church-yard, with the constable, the beadle, andtwo others following them, till they entered into Darbysiiire's house, who was bishop Bonner's chancellor; and after the constable and they had talked with Darhyshire, he came forth, and walked in his yard, and said to him, W^hat is your name? Liv. William Living. Darb. What are you? a priest? Liv, Yea. Darb. Is this your wife that is come with you ? Liv. Tisat she is. Darb. Where were you made priest? Liv. At Obourne. Darb. In what bishop's days ? 702 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Liv. By the bishop of Lincoln, that was king Henry's spiritual fa- ther in cardinal Wolsey's time. Darh. You are a schismatic and a traitor. Liv. I would be sorry that were true. I am certain I never was a traitor, but always have taught obe- dience according to the tenor of God's word ; and when tumults and schisms have been stirred, I have preached God's word, and assuaged them, as in the time of king Ed- ward. Darb. What, you are a schis- matic ! You be not in the unity of the Catholic church: for you pray not as the church of Rome doth : you pray in English. Liv. We are certain we be in the true church. Darh. There be that doubt thereof, forsomuch as there is but one true church. Well, you will learn, against I talk with you again, to know the church of Rome, and to be a member thereof. Liv. If the church of Rome be of that church whereof Christ is the head, then I am a member thereof, for I know no other church but that. Darh. Well, Cluny, take him with thee to the coal-house. Then he called Cluny again, and spake secretly to him, but what he said I know not. Then said Cluny, Wilt thou not come ? And so plucked me away violently, and brought me to his own house in Paternoster-Row, where he robbed me of my purse, my girdle, and my Psalter, and a New Testament of Geneva, and then brought me to the coal-house, to put me in the stocks, saying, Put in both your legs and your hands ; and except you fine with me, I will put a collar about your neck. What is the fine ? quoth I. Forty shillings, quoth he ; I am never able to pay it, said I. Then said he. You have friends that be able. I denied it ; and so he put both my legs into the stocks till supper-time, which was six o'clock ; and then a cousin of my wile's brought me meat, who see- ing me sit there, said, I will give you forty pence, and let him go at liberty : and he took her money, and presently let me forth in her sight, to eat my supper. And at seven o'clock he put me in the stocks again, and I remained till two o'clock the next day, and so he let me forth till night. This woman above-mentioned, was Grif- fin's first wife, a brother dwelling then in Aldermanbury, and after- wards in Cheapside. The Thursday following, in the afternoon, was I called to the Lollards' Tower, and there put in the stocks, having the honour to put my leg into that hole which Mr. John Philpot's leg was in, and so lay all that night, nobody coming to me either with meat or drink. At eleven o'clock on the Friday, Cluny came to me svith meat, and let me forth, and about one o'clock he brought me to Darbyshire's house, who drew forth a scroll of names, and asked me if I knew none of them : I said, I knew none of them but Foster. And so I kneeled down upon nay knees, and prayed him that he would not in- quire thereof any farther. And with that came forth two godly women, who said, Mr. Darbyshire, it is enough ; and so became sure- ties for me, and paid to Cluny fif- teen shillings for my fees, and bade me go with them. And thus much concerning Wil- liam Living. After this came his wife to examination, whose an- swers to Darbyshire, the chancel- lor, here likewise follow. EXAMINATION OF JULIAN LIVING, WIFE OF WILLIAM LIVING. Darhyshire. Ah, sirrah; I see by your going you be one of the sisters. Julian. I wear not my gown for sisterhood, neither for nunnery, but to keep me warm. Darh. Nun? No, I dare say you be none: is that man your husband? Julian. Yea. Darh. Is he a priest? DELIVERANCE OF W. LIVING, AND OTHERS. 703 Julian. No, he saith no mass. Darb. What then ? he is a priest. How darest thou many him '. Then he shewed me a roll of cer- tain names of citizens. To whom I answered, I knew none of them. Then said he, You shall be made to know them. Then said I, Do no other but justice and right, for the day will come, that you shall answer for it. Darb. Why, woman, thinkest thou not that I have a soul ? Julian, Yes, I know you have a soul; but whether it be to sal- vation or damnation, I cannot tell. Darb. Ho ! Cluny, have her to the Lollards' Tower. And so he took me, and carried me to his house, where was one Dale, a pro- moter, which said to me, Alas, good woman, wherefore be you here ? What is that to you ? said I. You be not ashamed, quoth Dale, to tell wherefore you come hither. No, quoth I, that I am not ; for it is for Christ's Testament. Christ's Testament ! quoth he. It is the devil's Testament ! O Lord! quoth I, God forbid that any man should speak any such word. Well, well, said he, you shall be ordered well enough. You care not for burning, quoth he. God's blood ! there must be some other means found for you. What, quoth I, will you find any worse than you have found ? Well, quoth he, you hope, and you hope : but your hope shall be cut oflf. For though the queen fail, she that you hope for shall never come at it * j for there is my lord * This was said in allusion to the ex- pected death of Mary, and the hope of the Protestants that she would be suc- ceeded by Elizabeth : this event, the papists knew, would deprive them of the power of persecuting the true believers, even if it did not expose them to a ae- vere retribution on the part of their long- suffering victims; Ihey were tlierefore willing to raise cardinal Pole to the throne, and had not Providence inter- posed to defeat their nefarious designs. cardinal's grace, and many more, between her and it. Then, quoth I, my hope is in none but God. Then said Cluny, Come with me; and so I went to the Lollards' Tower. On the next day Darby- shire sent for me again, and in- quired of those citizens that he in- quired of before. I answered, I knew them not. Where were you, quoth he, at the communion on Sunday was fortnight ? And I said, In no place. Then the constable of St. Bride's being there, made suit for me. And Darbyshire demanded of him, if he would be bound for me. He answered. Yea. And so he was bound for my appearance be- twixt that and Christmas. Then Darbyshire said. You be constable, and should give hei' good counsel. So I do, quoth he. For I bid her go to mass, and to say as you say. For, by the mass, if you say the crow is white, I will say so too. And thus much concerning the examination of William Living and his wife, whom although thou seest here delivered through the request of women, his sureties, yet it was no doubt, but that the deadly sickness of queen Mary abated and bridled, in some mea- sure, the cruelty of those papists, which otherwise would never have let them go. AN ACCOUNT OF THE TROUBLE AND DELIVERANCE OF JOHN LITHAL. At the taking of William Living, it happened that some of his books were in the custody of one John Lithai: which known, the consta- ble of the ward of Southwark, with other of the queen's servants, were sent to his house, who breaking open his doors and chests, took away not only the books of the said William Living, but also all would have, perhaps, deluged the coun- try with blood, in support of the claim of an usurper. 704 BOOK OF MARTYRS. bis own books, writings, and bills of debts, wliich he never had again. All this while Lithal was not at home. The next Saturday after, as he was returned, and known to be at home, .Tolin Avales and some of the queen's servants beset his house all the night, with surh careful watch, that as be in the morning issued out of doors, thinking to es- cape their hands, John Avales bursting out upon him, cried, Stop the traitor, stop the traitor. Where- at Lithal being amazed, looked back. And so John Avales came run- ning to him, with others that were with him, saying. Ah, sirrah, you are a traitorous fellow iudced, we have had somewhat to do to get you. To whom he answered, that he was a truer man to the queen's majesty than he. For you, said he, are commanded by God to keep holy the Sabbath day, and you seek to shed your neighbour's blood on the Sabbath day. Remember that you must answer it to God. But iie said, Come on, you villain, you must go before the council. So Lithal was brought into St. Paul's church-yard to the bishop's chancellor, by John Avales, saying that they had there caught the cap- tain of these fellows, and so caus- ed him to be called to examination before Dr. Darbysliire, who began with him in this wise ; Chan. What countryman are you ? Lith. I am an Englishman, born in Stalfordsliire. Chan. Where were you brought up? Lith. In tliis our country of England. Clian. In what university ? ^Mh. In no university, but in a free-school. Clian. We had certain books from your house, and writing, wherein is both treason and heresy. Lith. Sir, there is neither trea- son nor heresy in them. Then the chancellor asked for certain other men that I knew. Lilh. If you have aught to lay to my charge, I will answer it ; but I will have no other man's blood upon my head. Chmi. AVhy come you not to the church ? Of what church be you, that you come not to your own parish church? Lith. I am of the church of Christ, the fountain of all good- ness. Chan. Have you no niinislers of your church, but Christ? Litli. We have others. Chan. Where be they ? Lith. In the whole world, dis- persed, preaching and professing the gospel and faith only in our Saviour Jesus, as he commanded them. Chan. You boast much every one of you of your faith and belief : let me hear therefore the effect how you believe. Lith. I believe to be justified really by Christ Jesus, according to the saying of St. Paul to tlie Ephesians, without either deeds or works, or any thing that may be invented by man. Chan. Faith cannot save with- out works. Lith. That is contrary to the doctrine of the apostles. Clian. .lohn Avales, j'ou and the keeper have tliis fellow to prison. Then Jolin Avales, and Cluny the keeper, had me into St. Paul's, and would have had me seen the apostle's mass. Lith. I know none the apostle ' had, and therefore I will see none. Cluny and John Avales. Come and kneel down before tlie rood, and say a Paternoster, and an Ave in the worship of the five wounds. Lith. I am forbidden by God's own mouth to kneel to any idol or image : therefore I will not. Then they pulled me with great extremity, one having me by one arm, and the other by the other; but God gave n»e at that present time more strengtli than both these, his name be praised foril. Tiien wiien tlicy could not make .JOHN LITHAli. r05 me to kneel before Ihc rood, nei- ther to see the mass, there slather- ed a great company about us, and all against me. Some spit on me, and said, Fie on thee, heretic ; and others said, it was a pity I was not burned already. Then they carried me to tUn liOMards' Tower, and hanged mr in a great pair of storks, iu which I lay three days and three nighti, till I was so lame that I could nei- ther stir nor more. Martyrdom of fire Persons, at Canterburii, A.D, 1,5.'>8. Then I offered the keeper some money and gold that I had about me, to release me out of the stocks: and he said, 1 would not be ruled by him, either to see mass, or to kneel before tlic rood, and there- fore I should lie there still. But I said, I would never do the thing that should be against my con- science ; and though you hive lamed ray body, yet ray conscience is whole, I praise God for it. So shortly after he let me out of the stocks, raore for the love of my money (as it may be thought), than far any other affection ; and within four or five days my wife got leave of Mr. ChanceHoi to come to me, FOX'S M^KTVRS to bring me such things as were needful for me, and there I lay five weeks and odd days ; in which time divers of my neighbours and friends made suit to the chancellor for my deliverance ; the bishop, vm they said, at that time being sick at Fulham. So my neighbours being there, about twenty of them, the chancellor sent for me out of Lollards' Tower to his own house, and said as follows : Chan. Lithal, here are some of thy neighbours who have been, with me to entreat for thee, and they have infyrtupd me, that thou hast been a ve^y honest and quiet neighbsur amon^them, and Ithiak 45 706 BOOK OF MARTYRS. it be (jod's will that I should deli- yer thee bsfore my lord come home. For if he come, and thou go home again, I shall be burned for thee; for I know his mind already in that matter. Litk. I give you hearty thanks for your gentleness, and my neigh- bours for their good report. Chan. Lithal, if thy neighbours will be bound for thy forth-coming, whenever thou shalt be called for ; and also, if thou wilt be an obe- dient subject, I shall be content to deliver thee. Neifffi. If it please your worship, we will be bound for him in body and goods. Chan. I will require no such bonds of you, but that two of you will be bound in twenty pounds a piece, that he shall come to answer when he shall be called. Lith. Where find you, Mr. Chancellor, in all the scriptures, that the church of God did bind any man for the profession of his faith ? Which profession you have heard ofme, that all our justifica- tion, righteousness, and salvation, eometh only and freely by the merits of our Saviour .Jesus Christ, and all the inventions and works of men, be they ever so glorious, be altogether vain, as the wise man saith. Chan. With vain glory you re- hearse much scripture, as all the rest of you do : but you have no more understanding than my sheep. But to the purpose. Will you that your neighbours shall enter into bonds for you, or not ? Lith. By my mind they shall not. Wherefote I desire you that you would not bind me, but let me serve God with my conscience freely. For it is written, Rev. xiii. " They that lead into captivity, shall go inttf, captivity, and they that strike with the sword, shall perish with the sword." Also it is written in the gospel of our Saviour Jesus Christ, Matt, xviii. "That whoso doth offend one of these little ones which be- lieve in me, it were better for him that a mill -stone were hanged about his neck, and that he were cast into the depth of the sea.'' Of which I am assured by his holy Spirit that I am one. Wherefore be you well assured that such mercy as you shew, unto you shall be shewed the like. Chan. You are a madman. I would not bind you, but that I must needs have somewhat to shew for your deliverance. Then he called two of his neighbours, Thomas Daniel and Saunders Maybe, who offered themselves to be bound, and called me before them, and said, I have a letter of the hand-writing, with his name and seal at it, with a book also against the regimen of women, for which I could make him to be hanged, drawn, and quartered ; but on my faith I will him no more hurt than I mean to my own soul. Lith. I desire you that be my neighbours and friends, that you will not enter into bonds for me : for you know not the danger there- of, neither I myself; it goeth against my conscience that ye .should so do. Chan. Why, I will not bind you to do any thing against your conscience. Then they made the bond, and sealed to it, and willed me that I should seal to it also ; and I said that I would not, neither could I observe the bond, and therefore I would not set to my hand. Chan. It is pity that thou hast so much favour shewed thee : yet for these honest men's sakes I will discharge thee. Notwithstanding all these dis- sembling words of Dr. Darbyshire, pretending for favour of his sure- ties to set him at liberty, it was no such thing, nor any zeal of charity that moved him so to do ; but only fear of the time, understanding the dangerous and irrecoverable sick- ness of queen Mary, which then began somewhat to assuage the cruel proceeding of these perse- cutors, whereby they durst not do what they would: for else Lithal was not likely to have escaped so easily. ELIZABETH YOUNG. r«7 PERSECUTION OF ELIZABETH YOUNG. You heard before of the scourg- ing of Thomas Greene, how he was troubled and beaten by Dr. Story, for a certain book called Anti- christ, which he received of a wo- man, because in no case he would detect her. This woman was one Elizabeth Young, who coming from Embden to England, brought with her di- vers books, and dispersed them abroad in London ; for which she being at length apprehended and laid fast, was brought to examina- tion thirteen times before the Ca- tholic inquisitors of heretical pra- ■vity. Some of her examinations have come to our hands, and are as follow ; FIRST EXAMINATION OF ELIZABETH YOUNG, BEFORE MR. HUSSY. Hussy. Where was you born, and who was your father and mo- ther? E. Young. Sir, all this is but vain talk, and very superfluous. It is to fill my head with fantasies, that I should not be able to answer unto such things as I came for. You have not, I think, put me in prison to know who is my father and mother. But, I pray you, go to the matter I came hither for. Hussy. Wherefore wentest thou out of the realm? Young. To keep my conscience clean. Hussy. When wast thou at mass ? Young. Not these three years. Hussy. Then wast thou not there three years before that. Young. No, sir, nor yet three years before that : lor if I were I had evil luck. Hussy. How old art thou ? Young. Forty and upwards. Hussy. Twenty of those years you went to mass. Young. Yea, and twenty more I may, and yet come home as wise as T went thither first, for I under- stand it not. Hussy. Why wilt thou not go to the mass ? Young. Sir, my conscience will not suffer me : for f had rather all the world should accuse me, than mine own conscience. Hussy. What if a louse or a ilea stick upon thy skin, and bite thy flesh, thou must make a con- science in taking her off. Is there not a conscience in it? Young. That is but a sorry ar- gument to displace the Scriptureji, and especially in such a part as my salvation dependeth upon : for it is but an easy conscience that a man can make. Hussy. But why wilt thou not swear upon the evangelists before a judge ? Young. Because I know not what a book oath is. Then he began to teach her the book oath. Young. Sir, I do not understand it, and therefore I will not learn it. Hussy. Thou wilt not under- stand it : and with that rose up and went his way. SECOND EXAMINATION OF ELIZABETH YOUNG BY DR. MARTIN. Martin. Thou art come from beyond the sea, and hast brought with thee books of heresy and trea- son, and thou must confess to us who translated them, printed them, and who sent them over, (for I know thee to be but a messenger) and in so doing the queen's high- ness will be good to thee (for she hath forgiven greater things than this), and thou shait find as much favour as is possible. But if thoa be stubborn, and wilt not confess, thou wilt be very ill-handled ; for we know the truth already ; but this we do, only to see whether thou wilt be true to thy word or no. Young. Sir, you have my con- fession, and more than that I can- not say. Martin. Thou must say more, and shalt say more. Dost thou think that we will be fully answer- ed by this confession that thou hast made .' Thoa rebellious w , and traitorous heretic, thou dost refuse to swear upon the evange- lists before a judge, I hear say. 70R BOOK OF MARTYRS. Thou shaltbe racked by inch-meal, thou traitorous w and heretic, but thou shalt swear before a judge before thou go : yea and thou shalt be made to confess how many books thou hast sold, and to whom. Young. Sir, I understand not what an oath is, and therefore I will take no such thing upon me. And no man hath bought any books of me as yet, for those books that I had, your commissioners have got them all. 3Iartin. Thou traitorous w , we know that thou hast sold a number of books, yea, and to whom : and how many times thou hast been here, and where thou layest, and every place that thou hast been in : dost thou think that thou hast fools in hand ? Younffc No, sir, you be too wise for me ; for I could not tell how many places I have been in myself; but if it were in Turkey, I should have meat, and drink, and lodging for my money. Martin. Thou rebellious w , thou hast spoken evil words of the queen, and thou dwellest amongst a set of traitors and rebels that cannot give the queen a good name. Young. I am not able to accuse any man thereof, neither is there any man that can prove any such things of me as you lay to my charge. For God's word hath taught me my duty to my queen, and therefore I am sure you accuse me wrongfully. Martin. Thou rebel and traitor- ous w , thou shalt be so racked and tormented, that thou shaltbe an example to all such traitorous jf, and heretics ; and thou shalt be made to swear by the holy evan- gelists, and confess to whom thou hast sold all and every of these he- retical books that thou hast sold : for we know what nuu»ber thou hast sold, and to whom ; but thou shalt be made to confess it in spite of thy blood. Young. Here is my carcass : do with it what you will, and more than that you cannot have. Mr. Martin, you can have no more than my blood. Then he raved as though he were stark mad, and said, Martin! Why callest thou me Martin ?■ Young. Sir, I know you well enough, for I have been before you ere now. You delivered me once at Westminster. Martin. Where didst thou dwell then? Young. I dwelt in the Minories. Martin. I delivered thee and thy husband both ; and I thought then that thou wouldcst have done otherwise than thou dost now. For if thou hadst been before any other bishop in England, and said the words that thou didst before me, thou hadst fried a lagot : and though thou didst not burn then, thou art like to burn or hang now. Young. Sir, I promised you then, that I would never be fed with an unknown tongue, and no more will I yet. Martin. I shall feed thee well enough. Thou shalt be fed with that (I warrant thee) which will be little to thine ease. Young. Do -what God shall suf- fer you to do : for more you shall not. And then he arose and so departed, and went to the keeper's house, and asked his wife, whom she had suffered to come to this traitorous w (as he called her.) Then said the keeper's wife. As God receive my soul, there came neither man, woman, nor child to ask for her. Blartin. If any man, woman, or child, come to ask for her, I charge thee on pain of death, that they be laid fast ; and give her one day bread, and another day water! Young. If you take away my meat, I trust that God will take away my hunger: and so he de- parted, saying, that was too good for her; and then she was shut up under two locks in the Clink, where she was before. THIRD EXAMINATION OF MRS. E, YOUNG, BEFORE DR. MARTIN. Martin. Elizabeth, wilt thoii confess these things that thou hast ELIZABETH YOUNG. 709 Ijeen cxaiiiiMcd upon ; for thou kuoM'est tliat I have been Ihy friend, and in so doinp: I will be Ihy friend ag^ain ; giving her many fair words, and tlicn demanding of her how many gentlemen were beyond the seas. Youny. It is too much for me to tell you how many are on the other side. iMartin. No, I mean but in Frank- fort and Embden, where thou hast been. Younf/. Sir, I did never take ac- eount of them ; it is a thing that I look not for. Martin. When shall I have a true word come out of your mouth ? Young. I have told you the truth, but because that it soundeth not so to your mind, therefore you will not credit it. Martin. Wilt thou yet confess? And if thou wilt, that which I have promised I w ill do ; and if thou wilt not, I promise thee thou must go even hence to the rack, and therefore confess. Youny. 1 can say no more than I have said. Martin. Well, forasmuch as she will confess no more, have her away to the rack, and then she will be marred. Then answered a priest that sat there, and said. Woman, take an oath, and confess : wilt thou be hurt for other men? Youny. I can confess no more than I have. -Do with my carcass what you will. Martin. Did ye ever hear the like of this heretic? What a stout heretic is this ! We have the truth, and we know the truth, and yet look whether she will confess. There is no remedy, but she must needs to the rack, and therefore away with her. And so commanded her out of the door, and called her keeper >in- lo him, and said to him. There is no remedy but this heretic must be racked ; and talked with him more, but what it was she did not hear. Then he called her in again, and said. Wilt thou not confess, and keep thee from the rack ; I advise thee so to do; for if thou wilt not, thou knowest not the pain yet, but thou shalt do. Youny. I can confess no more ; do with my carcass what you will. Martin. Keeper, away with her. Thou knowest what I said. Let her know the pain of the rack. Aud so she departed, thinking no less, but that she should have gone to the rack, till she saw- the keeper turn toward the Clink again. And thus did God alienate their hearts, aud diminish their tyrannous power, unto the time of further examina- tions: for she was brought before the bishop, the dean, and the chan- cellor, and other commissioners, first and last, thirteen times. FOURTH EXAMINATION OF MRS. E. YOUNG, BEFORE THE BISHOP OK LONDON, AND OTHERS. First she being presented by Dr. Martin before the bishop of London, Dr. Martin began to declare against her, saying,The lord clianccllor hath sent you here a woman, who hath brought books over from Embden, where all these books of heresy and treason are printfed, and hath there- with filled all the land v*'th treason and heresy: neither yet will she confess who translated them, nor ■who printed them, nor yet who sent them over. Wherefore my lord chancellor committeth her unto my lord of London, to do with her as he shall think good. For she will confess nothing but that she bought these said books in Amsterdam, and s© brought them over to sell for gain. Dr. Cook. Let her head be trussed in a small line, and make her confess. Martin. The book is called Anti- christ, and so may well be called, for it speaketh against Jesus Christ, and the queen. Besides that, she hath a certain spark of the anabap- tists, for she refuseth to swear upon the four evangelists before a judge: for I myself and Mr. Hussey have had her before us four times, bat we cannot bring her to swear. — Wherefore my lord chancellor Avould that she should abstain and fast, for she hath not fasted a great 71Q BOOK OF MARTYRS. wlii!e : for she Lath lain iu the Clink a «!;ood while, where she had too ninch liberty. Theu said the bishop, Why wilt thou not swear before a judge? that is the right trade of the anabaptists. Young. My lord, I will not swear that this hand is mine. No ! said the bishop ; and why ? Yoxmg. My lord, Christ saith. That whatsoever is more than yea, yea, or nay, nay, it cometh of evil. And moreover, T know not what an oath is : and therefore I will take DO such things upon me. Then said Cholmley, Twenty pounds it is a man in woman's clothes, twenty pounds it is a man ! Bonner, Think you so, my lord ? Cholmley. Yea, my lord. Young. My lord, I am a woman. Bishop. Swear her upon a book, seeing it is but a question asked. Then said Cholmley, I will lay twenty pounds it is a man. Then Dr. Cook brought her a book, commanding her to lay her hand thereon. Young. No, my lord, I \till not swear, for I know not what an oath is. But I say that I am a woman, and have children. Biihop. That we know not ; there- fore swear. Cholm. Thon ill-favoured w — — , lay thy hand upon the book ; I will lay on mine ; and so he laid his Land on the book. Young. So will not I. Then the bishop spake a word in Latin out of St. Paul, as concerning swearing. Young. My lord, if you speak to me of St. Paul, then speak English, lor I understand you not. Biihop. I dare swear that thou dost not. Young. My lord, St. Paul saith, that five words spoken iu a language that may be understood, are better than many in a strange tongue. Cook. Swear before us, whether thou be a man or a woman. Young. If you will not believe me, then send for women into a se- cret place, and I will be searched. Cholm. Thou a^rt an ill-favouTed Bishop. How believcst thou iu the sacrament of the altar? Young. If it will please you that I shall declare my faith, I will, and if it be not good, teach me a better, and I will believe it. Cook. That is well said, declare thy faith. She then declared her faith in the terms of our creed, and according to the doctrine of other protestants; and after some illiberal conversation with her about Dr. Scory, by whom she had been instructed, who had es- caped out of England, she was or- dered away, and carried into the coal-house. She was then searched for books, and afterwards put into the stock-house, and her knife, gir- dle, and apron taken from her. She was next examined by the chancellor, to whom she declared her faith, as she had done before to the bishop. She next defended her sense of Christ's body in the sacra- ment, and resisted all the sophisti- cal interpretations of Christ's flesh, and eating his flesh and drinking his blood; whereas, she added, our profit that we have by Christ, is to believe that his body was broken upon the cross, and his blood shed for our sins ; that is the very mean- ing of Christ, that so we should eat his flesh, and drink his blood, when he said, " My flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed." The chancellor then recurred to some of his former arguments and false glosses, which she equally re- sisted ; and to his question concern- ing the sacrament of the altar, an- swered. As often as I receive the sacrament, I believe that spiritually and by faith I receive Christ. And, after some other captious interroga- tories, to which she replied with a full spirit of conviction, he felt the application of her remarks so forci- bly as to be much irritated; and they soon after parted for that time. On her next examination before the chancellor, he renewed the same subject of Christ's body and Christ's flesh. He then spoke of seven sacraments, and she maintained there were but two ; and as to wed- lock, she knew nothing of its bein^ ELIZABETH YOUNG. 711 n sacrament; about priests marrying was no part of her faith ; purgatory she never heard of. After much railing against schismatics, and de- claring her to be one of the rank- est heretics, who would believe nothing but what is in the scripture, and was therefore damned ; she an- swered, I do believe all things writ- ten in the scripture, and all things agreeable to the scripture, given by the Holy Ghost to the church of Christ, set forth and taught by the church of Christ; and shall I be damned because I will not believe an untruth? Then the chancellor called the keeper, saying, Cluny, take her away, thou knowest what thou hast to do with her. And so she departed, and was brought again to the stock- house, and there she lay certain days, and both her hands manacled in one iron; and afterwards she was removed into the Lollards' Tower, and there she remained with both her feet in the stocks and irons till the next time of examina- tion. SEVENTH EXAMINATION OF MRS. YOUNG, BEFORE THE CHANCEL- LOR AND THE bishop's SCRIBE. Chancellor. Woman, thou hast been twice before me, but we could not agree, and here be certain ar- ticles that my lord the bishop of London would that thou shouldest make answer unto, which are these: First, how many sacraments dost thou allow? Young. Sir, as many as Christ's church doth allow, and that is two. Then said the scribe. Thou wast taught seven, before king Edward's days. Chav. Which two sacraments be those that thou dost allow? Young. The sacrament of the body and blood of Jesus Christ, and the sacrament of baptism. Chan. Dost ibou not believe that the pope of Rome is the supreme head of the church, immediately un^ der God in earth? Young. No, sir, no man can be the head of Christ's church: for Christ himself h the head, and his word is the governor of all that be of that church, wheresoever they be scattered abroad. Chan. Dost thou not believe that the bishop of Rome can forgive thee all thy sins, heretical, detestable and damnable, that thou hast done from thine infancy nnio this day ? Young. Sir, the bishop of Rome is a sinner as I am, and no man can forgive me my sins ; but he only that is without sin, that is Jesus Christ, who died for my sins. Chan. Hast thou not desired God to defend thee from the tyran- ny of the bishop of Rome, and all his detestable enormities? Young. Yes, that I have. Chan. And art thou not sorry for it ? Young. No, sir, not a whit. Chan. Art thou not content to go to the church, and hear mass? Young. I will not go to the church, either to hear mass or ma- tins, till I may hear it in a tongue that I can understand : for I will be fed no longer in a strange language. And always the scribe did write every one of these articles, as they were demanded and answered unto. Then the scribe asked her from whence she came. The chancellor said. This is she that brought over all these books ot heresy and treason. Then the scribe said to her, Wo- man, where hadst thou all these books? Young. I bought them in Am- sterdam, and brought them over to se!l, thinking to gain thereby. The Scribe. What is the name of the book? Young. 1 cannot tell. Scribe. Why shotlldst thou buy books, and know not their names? Then said Cluny, the keeper. Sir, my lord bishop did send for her by name that she should come to mass, but she would not. Chan. Yea, did my lord send for her by name, and would she not go to mass? Young. No, sir, I will never go to mass, till I do understand it, by the leave of God. Chan. Understand it I why, who ]2 BOOK OF MARTYRS. the devU can make thee umlerstand Latin, thou being so old ? Then the scribe commanded her to set her hand to all these things. Then said she, Let me hear them read first. Scribe. Master Chancellor, shall she hear it read ? Chan. Ay, ay, let the heretic hear it read. Then she heard it read, and so signed it. EIGHTH EXAMINATION OF MRS. TOUNG BEFORE THE BISHOP. Bishop. Is this the woman that hath three children ? Keeper. Yea, my lord. Bishop. Woman, here is a sup- plication put into my hands for thee. In like case there was another sup- plication put up to me for tl\ee be- fore this, in which thou madest as though I should keep thy children. Young. My lord, I did not know of this supplication, nor yet of the other. Bishop. Mr. dean, is this the woman you have sued so earnestly for? Keeper. Yea, my lord. Dean. Woman, what remaineth in the sacrament of the altar, w hen and after that the priest hath spoken the words of consecration ? Young. A piece of bread. But the sacrament of Christ's body and blood, which he did institute and leave among his disciples the night before he was betrayed, ministered according to his word, that sacra- ment I do believe. Dean. How dost thou believe concerning the body of Christ? where is his body, and how many bodies hath he ? Young. Sir, in heaven he sitteth on the right hand of Gqd. Dean. From whence came his human body ? Young. He took it of the virgin Mary. Dean. That is flesh, blood, and bones, as mine is. But what shape hath his spiritual body? Hath it face, hands, and feet? Young. I know no other body that he hath, but that body whereof he meant when he said, " This is my body, which is given for you ; and this is my blood which shall be shed for you." Whereby he plainly meaneth that body, and no other, which he took of the virgin Mary, having the perfect shape and pro- portion of a human body. Story. Thou hast a wise body : for thou must go to the stake. Dean. Art thou content to be- lieve in the faith of Christ's church? But to ask of thee what Christ's church is, or where it is, I let it pass. Young. Sir, to that church I have joined my faith, and from it I purpose never to turn, by God's help. Dean. Wouldst thou not be at home with thy children with a good will? Young. Sir, if it please God to give me leave. Dean. Art thou willing to con- fess thyself a foolish woman, and to believe as our holy father the pope of Rome doth, and as the lord car- dinal doth, and as my lord the bishop of London thine ordinary doth, and as the king and queen, and all the nobility in England do ; yea, and the emperor, and all the noble persons of Christendom ? Young. Sir, I was never wise, but in few words I. shall make you a brief answer how I do believe all things that are written in the scrip- tures, given by the Holy Ghost un- to the church of Christ, set forth . and taught by the church of Christ. Hereon I ground my faith, and not on man. Then said Story, And who shall be judge? Young. Sir, the scripture. Story. And who shall read it ? Young. He unto whom God hath given the understanding. Bishop. Woman, be reformable ; for I would thou wert gone, and master dean here hath earnestly sued for thee. Dean. Woman, I have sued for thee indeed, and I promise thee, if thou wilt be reformable, my lord will be good unto thee. ELIZABETH YOUNG. 713 Young. I liavc been before my lord bishop, and before master chancellor three times, and have declared my faith. Dean. And yet I know that master chancellor will say, that thou art a general heretic. Story. Away with her. Bishop. Master dean, you know that I may not tarry, nor you neither. Let her keeper bring her home to your own cham- ber soon, at four o'clock in the af- ternoon, and if that we find her reasonable, then let her go, for I would that she were gone. Then said the dean. With a good will, my lord; and so she was sent unto the place from whence she came, until it was four o'clock in the afternoon. NINTH EXAMINATION OF ELIZA- BETH YOUNG, BEFORE THE DEAN. Dean. Art thou a fool now, as thou wert to-day? Youny. Sir, I have learnt but small wisdom since. Dean. Dost thou think that I am better learned than thou? Young. Yes, sir, that I do. Dean. Thinkest thou that I can do thee good? Young. Yea, sir, and, if it please God, that you will. Dean. Then I will do thee good indeed. What dost thou receive when thou receivest the sacrament which Christ left among his disci- ples the night before he was be- trayed? Young. Sir, that that his dis- ciples did receive. Dean. What did they receive? Youny. Sir, that that Christ gave them, they received. Dean. What answer is this? was Christ there present ? Youny. Sir, he was there pre- sent ; for he instituted his own sa- crament. Dean. He took bread and brake it, and he gave it to his disciples, and said, " Take, eat, this is my body which shall be broken for you." When thou receivest it, dost thou believe that thou receiv- est his body? Youny. Sir, when I receive, I believe that through faith I do re- ceive Christ. Dean. Dost thou believe that Christ is there? Youny. Sir, I believe that he is there to me, and by faith I do receive him. Dean. He also took the cup and gave thanks, and gave it to his disciples, and said, " Drink ye all thereof; this is the cup of the New Testament, in my blood, which is shed for many for the remission of sins." When thou dost receive it after the institution that Christ ordained among his disciples, the night before he was betrayed, dost thou believe that Christ is there? Youny. Sir, by faith I believe that he is there, and by faith I do believe that I do receive him. Dean. Now thou hast answered me, remember what thou sayest, that when thou dost receive accord- ing to the institution of Christ, thou dost receive Christ. Youny. Sir, I believe Christ not to be absent from his own sacra- ment. Dean. How long wilt thou con- tinue in that belief? Youny. Sir, as long as I do live, by the help of God, for it is, and hath been my belief. Dean. Wilt thou say so before my lord? Youny. Yea, sir. Dean. Then I dare deliver thee. Why, thou calf, why wouldst thou not say so to-day? Young. Sir, you asked me no such question. Dean. Then you would stand in disputation how many bodies Christ had. Young. Sir, indeed that ques- tion you did ask me. Dean. Who shall be the sure- ties that thou wilt appear before my lord of London and me, upon Friday next? Young. Sir, I have no sureties, nor know I where to have anj'. Then spake the dean unto two women that stood there, who had earnestly sued for her, saying, 2 714 bo5k of martyrs. Women, will ye be her sureties, that she shall appear before my lord of London and me, upon Fri- day next? Women. Yea, sir, and it please you. Dean. Take heed that I find you no more a babbler in the Scrip- tore. Young. Sir, I am no babbler in the Scripture, nor yet can any man burden me therewith. Dean. Yes, I have heard of you well enough what you are. Then said he to the two women. What if a man should touch your conscience, do ye not smell a little of heresy also? Women. No, sir. Dean. Yes, a little of the fry- ing-pan, or else wherefore have ye two so earnestly sued for her? The one woman answered, Be- cause that her children were like to perish, and therefore God put me in mind to sue for her. Then said the other woman. And I provided her child a nurse, and I am threatened to stand for the keeping of her child; and therefore it standeth me in hand to sue to have her out. Deayi. Woman, give thanks unto these honest women, who have so earnestly sued for thee, and I promise thee so have I. These great heretics will receive nothing but in spirit and faith. And so he rose and departed. Young. Sir, God be praised, and I thank you for your goodness, and their's also. And so she went away; and upon the Friday next, because she was accused, her two sureties went thither, and were discharged. THE PERSECUTION OF ELIZABETH • LAWSON. In the town of Bedford, in the county of Suffolk, dwelt an an- cient godly matron, named Eliza- beth Lawson, about the age of sixty year.<«, who was apprehended as an heretic by the constables of the same town, named Robert Kitrich, and Thomas Elas, in the year I066, because she w ould not go to church to hear mass, and receive the sacrament, and believe in it. First, they laid her in a dun- geon, and after that she was car- ried into Norwich, and from thence to Bury goal, wher& at last she M'as condemned to be burnt. In the mean time sir John Sylliard had her home unto his house, he being high sheiift' that year, where she was hardly kept, and wrapped in irons, till at length, when they could by no means move her to re- cant, she was sent to prison again, with shameful revilings. Thus she continued in prison the space of two years and three quarters. In the mean time there were burnt her son and many more, whereby she would often say, " Good Lord, what is the cause that I may not yet come to thee with thy children? Well, good Lord, thy blessed will be done, and not mine." Not long after this (most hap- pily) followed the death of queen Mary, after whom succeeded queen Elizabeth. At which time this Elizabeth Lawson remained yet still in Bury prison, till at last she was bailed upon sureties, or else she could not be delivered. For she being a condemned per- son, neither the temporality, nor yet spiritual authority would dis- charge her without sureties. Now she being abroad, and her sureties made afraid by wicked men, said, they would cast her again in pri- son, except she would see them discharged. Then she got a supplication to go unto the queen's majesty, and came to a friend of hcr's, to have his counsel therein; who willed her to stay awhile, because she was old, the days short, the ex- pences great, and weather foul, (for it was a little before Christ- mas), and to tarry until summer. In the mean time God broke the bond, and shortened her journey ; for he took her home to himself out of this life in peace. This good old woman, long be- fore she went to prison, had the falling sickness, and told a friend THOMAS CHRISTENMASS AND WILLIAM WATS. 7\S of her's, one Simon Harlslon, after she was apprehended, that she never had it more, but lived in good health and joy of heart, through our Lord Christ. She had a very unkind husband, who, while she was in prison, sold her raiment, and would not help her; and after she was out of pri- son, she returned home unto him, yet would he shew her no kind- ness, nor help her neither; and yet th« house and land that he dwelt in he had by her ; wherefore as long as she lived she was main- tained by the congregation. The said Elizabeth Lawson also had a sister, wife to one Robert Hollon, in Mickfield, in the same county of Sutl'olk, who likewise was persecuted and driven out from house to house, and a young man, her son, with her, because they would not go to the church to hear mass, and receive the sacrament of the altar. PERSECUTION OF THOMAS CHRIS- TENMASS, AND WILLIAM WATS. In this perilous age of queen Mary's reign were two men perse- cuted, one called Thomas Chris- TENMASs, the other William Wats, of Tunbridge, in Kent. As these two men travelled from place to place, not resting two nights together in one place, they happened to go to Rochester, in Kent, where they at the town's end met with a damsel of eight years of age, but whither she went they knew not. It was then night, and they being weary, were willing to lie in the same town, but could not tell where, they feared so the bloody Catholics. At last they devised to ask the damsel whether there were any heretics in the town, or no? and she said. Yea. They asked her where. She an- swered them. At such an inn, tell- ing them the name, and where the inn was. Shortly after, as they were gone from her, they be- thought themselves better, and God so moving their hearts, they went to the child again, and asked her how she knew that the inn- 1 keeper (of whom she spake before) was an heretic. Marry, quoth she, well enough, and his wife also. How knowest thou, pretty maiden? said they. I pray thee tell us. How know I ? said she ; marry, because they go to the church ; and those that will not hold up their hands there, they will pre- sent them, and he himself goes from house to house, to compel them to come to church. When these two men heard this, they gave God praise, and avoisied that house, taking the v/arning of that maid (of good bringing up, as it should seem) to be God's marvel- lous providence towards them. In the last year but one of queen Mary's reign, William Wats lived at Scale, in Kent, where being apprehended, and brought by the constables before the bishop and justices at Tunbridge, they endea- voured to persuade him to turn from the truth, but all in vain, though they spent much time, and used many flattering words. At dinner-time the constables took Wats to a victualling-house, where, after they had well filled themselves, they fell asleep, sup- posing their prisoner had been sure enough under their hands. Wats's wife being in the house with her husband, and very care- ful for his well-doing, seeing them all fast asleep, desired her hus- band to go away, as God had given him an opportunity: but he refused so long that at last a stranger hearing something of the dispute, asked what the matter was, and why she was so earnest with her husband: the wife told him. Then said the stranger to Wats, Father, go thy ways, in God's name, and tarry no longer: the Lord hath opened the way unto thee. Upon which words he went his way, and his wife departed from him, and went home to her house at Scale, thinking her husband had gone another way. Now as she was going in at her door, telling her friends of his deliverance, imme- diately came in the said Wats also, and they all being amaeed 716 BOOK OF MARTYRS. thereat, Milled him in all haste to get him away; for they thought there would be search for him im- mediately. Then Wats said, he Mould eat meat first, and also pray; which he did, and afterwards departed thence. As soon as he was out of doors, and had hid himself in an holly-bush, immediately came the said constables, with thirty per- sons, into the said house, to search for him, where they pierced the feather-beds, broke open his chests, and made great havoc; and as they were searching:, the constable cried, I will have Wats, I will have Wats, I tell thee, I ■will have Wats; but, God be thanked, Wats could not be found. And when they saw it needless to search for him, in the end they took bis wife, and set her in a pair of stocks, where she remained two days, and she was very bold in the truth, and at last delivered through the providence of God ; whose name be glorified in all his works, Amen. MR. DABNEY. There was at London a certain godly person, a painter, named Dabney, whom John Avales, in the time of queen Mary, had brought before Bonner to be exa- mined for his faith. It happened the same time, when the said Dabney was there, that the bishop was occupied with the examina- tion of others, so that he was bid to stand by, and to wait the bi- shop's leisure. Upon the same, or not long after, suddenly came word to the bishop to prepare him with all speed, the general pro- cession tarried for him. The bi- shop hearing that, setting all busi- ness apart, bustletU himself with all possible speed to the church, here to furnish procession. By reason whereof, Dabney, who newly came to the house, was there left alone, while every man else was busied in preparing and setting themselves forward, ac- cording as the case required. To be short, as the time called on, Bonner with his household makes all possible haste to the procession. Dabney being left alone, came down to the outward court, next the gate, there walking heavily by himself, looking for no- thing less than to escape that dan- ger. The porter, who was only left at home, seeing tiie man walk alone, supposing he had been some citizen left there be- hind, and waiting for opening the gate, went and opened the wioket, asking if he would go out. Yea, said he, with a good will, if you will let me out. With all my heart, quoth the porter, and I pray you so do. And thus the said Dabney tak- ing the opportunity offered of God, being let out by the porter, escaped out of the wolf's mouth. The procession being done, when the bishop returned home, Dabney was gone, and could not be found ; whereupon search was made, but especially John Avales laid wait for him: who, after long search- ing, when he could not get him, at length received fifteen crowns of his wife to let him alone when he should see him, and so that good man escaped. ALEXANDER WIMHURST, PRIEST. A like example of God Al- mighty's goodness towards his af- flicted servants, in that dangerous time of persecution, may also ap- pear evidently in one Alexander Wimhurst, a priest, sometime of Magdalen college, in Oxford, and then a papist, but since an earnest enemy to Antichrist, and a man better instructed in the true fear of God. It happened that one had recommended him to bishop Bonner for religion, upon what occasion I do not understand. According to the old manner in such cases provided, he sent forth Robin Caly, otherwise called Ro- bin Papist, one of his whelps, to bring in the game, and to cause this silly poor man to appear be- fore him. Little Robin, like a proper man, bestirreth him in his business, and smelleth him out, MRS. BOSOM— JOHN DAVIS. 717 and- when he had taken him, bringeth him along by Cheapside, not suffering him to talk with any of his acquaintance by the way, though they were some of his old friends of Oxford that ottered to speak unto him. When they came into St. Paul's, he espied Dr. Chedsey there, walking up and down, and, be- cause he was able in such a case to do pleasure, and for that he had been of his old acquaintance in Oxford, he was very desirous to speak to him ere he went through. Chedsey, perceiving that Robin Caiy did attend upon him, said, that he durst not meddle in the matter. Yes (said little Robin), you may talk with him, if it please you, master Doctor. To be short, Alexander opened his case, and in the end desired, for old acquaint- ance sake, that he would find means he might be brought before Dr. Martin to be examined, rather than any other. Nay, said he, (alleging the words of Christ unto Peter, in the last chapter of St. John), you remember, brother, what is written in the gospel: " When thou wast young, thou didst gird thyself, and wentest whither thou wouldst: but being aged, other men shall gird thee, and lead thee whither thou wouldst not." Thus abusing the Scripture to his private meaning, whereas notwithstanding he might easily have accomplished so small a re- quest, if he had liked it. So they commanded him to prison. And now mark well the providence of God in his preservation. He was brought into Cluny's house, in Paternoster-row, from thence to be carried to Lollards' Tower, out of hand, but that Ciuny, (as it happened), his wife, and his maid, were so earnestly occupied about present business, that they had not leisure then to lock up their prisoner. In the hall where Alexander sat was a strange woman, whose husband was then presently in trouble for religion, which perceived by some occasion or other, that this man was brought in for the like cause. Alack, good man, saith she, if you will you may escape the cruel hands of your enemies, fora&'much as they be all away that should look unto you. God hath opened the way unto you for deliverance, and therefore lose not the oppor- tunity thereof, if you be wise. Being persuaded with these and such like words, he went out of the doors, and escaped their hands. MRS. BOSOM. This good woman being at Rich- mond with her mother, was greatly urged to go to church. At length, through great importunity, she came; being in the church, and sitting with her mother in the pew, contrary in all things to the doings of the papists, she behaved herself so, that when they kneeled she stood, when they turned for- ward, she turned backward, &c. This being notorious in the church, the constable and church- warden attacked her in the queen's name, charging her and her mother to appear the next day at Kingston, which accordingly they did, and happening to meet the officers, saluted them by their names, but at that time had no power to speak to them, though afterwards they stampt and stared, and were mad with themselves for letting them pass. Whereupon the good woman taking her jour- ney to London, escaped their cru- elty. JOHN DAVIS, A BOY. In the year 1546, the last year of king Henry the Eighth, John Davis, a child of less than twelve years of age, who dwelt in the house of Mr. Johnson, apothecary, in the town of Worcester, his un- cle, using sometimes to read in the Testament, and other English books, was complained of by his mistress, who was an obstinate person, and consulted with one Thomas Parton, and Alice Brook, wife to Nicholas Brook, organ maker, with certain of the cauonS) 718 BOOK OP MARTYRS. and Mr. Johnson, chancellor to Dr. Heath, their bishop. Where- upon Thomas Parton came to ap- prehend him, and his uncle was forced against bis will to bind the poor boy's arms behind him: and so he was brought to the olficers of the town, who committed him to prison, where he lay from the 14th of August till the last day of Sep- tember. He was then removed from thence to an inner prison, called Peephole, where one Joylifl' and Yewer, two canons, who had his writings against the six arti- cles, and his ballad, called, " Come down for all your shaven crown," came to see whether he would stand to that he had writ- ten. Which done, with many great, raging words, not long after .sat Mr. Johnson, the chancellor, in the Guildhall, upon the poor lad. Where fii-st were brought in his accusers, and sworn ; then were sworn also twenty-four men which went on his quest, and found him guilty, but he never came before the chancellor. Upon this he was sent to the com- mon gaol, among thieves and mur- derers, there to tarry the coming of the judges, and so to be had strait to execution. But the mighty mercy of the Lord, who helpeth the desolate and misera- ble, when all other help is past, so provided for this innocent lad, that the purpose of all his hard- hearted enemies was disap- pointed: for before the judges came, God took away Henry the Eighth out of this life. By reason whereof the force of the law was then stayed : however, he was ne- vertheless arraigned, being held up in a man's arms at the bar be- fore the judges, who were Port- man and Marven: who, when they perceived that they could not burn him, would have him pre- sently whipped. But Mr. Bourne declared to the judges, how he had had whipping enough. After that he had lain a week more in prison, be had him home to his house, his wife anointed his legs herself with uiutment, T\'hich were then stifl' and numbed with irons, till at length, when Mr. Bourne and his wife saw they could not win him to the belief of their sacrament, they put him away, lest he should infect their son Anthony, as they thought, with heresy. Thus John Davis was mercifully preserved, after he had suffered imprisonment from the 14th day of August till within seven days of Easter, who is yet alive, and a profitable minister this day in the church of England: blessed be the Lord. MRS. ROBURTS. Mrs. Roberts, a gentlewoman, living (as I understand) in the town of Hawkhurst, in Sussex, being earnestly addicted to the truth of the gospel, and no less constant in that which she had learned therein, so kept herself during all the brunt of queen Mary's time, that she never came to their popish service, nor pol- luted her conscience with their idolatrous mass. There dwelt at the same time not far off a justice, called sir John Gilford, who being as fervent on the contrary side to set forward the proceedings of queen Mary, thought to prove masteries with this gentlewoman, in forcing her into the church. And fir^ sending his wife, he tempted her, by fair words and gentle persuasions, to conform herself to the prince's laws, and to come, as other Christian people did, to the church. Notwithstand- ing, she constantly persisting in the sincerity of the truth, would by no persuasions be won to do therein against her conscience; and so kept at home a certain time, till again Mr. Gilford, thinking not to give her over so, sent his ofTicers and servants to her, by force and power to haul her out of her house to the church, and so did. Where, by the way, she, for grief of con- science, swooned, and so of neces- sity was brought home again, and falling into an ague, was for that time dispensed with. When she had recovered her health again, he MRS. LACY, AND OTHERS. 719 came in person to compel her to come to church, whether she would or no. But (as the pro- verb g^oeth) who can prevent that which God would have done? For when Mr. Gilford had pur- posed as pleased him, the Lord so disposed for this good woman, that as he was coming up stairs towards her chamber, suddenly his old disease the gout seized him, and so terribly tormented him, that he could go no further: and so he, that purposed to carry her to the church against her will, was forced himself to be carried home to his house on account of his pain, protesting and swearing that he would never from henceforth trouble that gentlewoman more, and no more he did. MRS. ANNE LACY. Mrs. Anne Lacy, widow, in Nottinghamshire, was in great danger in queen Mary's time, in- somuch that the process was out against her, and she ready to have been apprehended, being so nearly pursued, that she was driven to hide her Bible and other books in a dunghill. Mr. Lacy, her bro- ther, was then justice of peace; bat to whom (as I have heard) she was but very little beholden. Ne- vertheless, where kindred faileth, yet God's grace never faileth such as stick to him; for in this mean time, as the process came out against her, queen Mary died, and so she escaped. MRS. GROSSMAN. She lived at Tibnam Longrow, in Norfolk, and for not going to church was sought for at her house by the constable of the hun- dred, who, when he came to her house, she being at home with a child sucking in her arms, stept into a corner on oMe side of the chimney, and they seeking about the chambers, the child never cried (although before they came it did) as long as they were there, and so by this means the Lord preserved her. THE CONGREGATION AT STOKE, IN SUFFOLK. There were some likewise that avoided the violent rage of their adversaries by means only of their number, and mutual according in godliness, wherein they, did so hold together, that without much ado none well could be troubled: whereof we have an example, in a certain town of SuHblk, called Stoke. After the three sharp years of queen Mary's persecution being past, yet, notwithstanding, the inhabitants of the town afore- said, especially the women, came not to their church to receive, after the popish manner, the sa- crament; who, if they had been but few, they could by no means have escaped imprisonment. But because they were so many, the papists thought it best not to lay hands upon them. Only they ap- pointed them sixteen days respite aftei' Easter, wherein as many as would, should receive the sacra- ment; those that would not, should stand to the peril that would follow. Of this company, which were many, giving their hands together, the chief were these : Eve, an old woman of sixty years of age; Alice Coker, her daughter; Elizabeth Foxe; Agnes Cutting; Alice Spencer; Henry Canker; Joan Fouke; Agnes Spauldiug; John Steyre, and his brother; John Foxe. These, after the order was taken for their not coming to the church, took counsel among themselves what was best to be done, and at length concluded by promise one to another, that they should not re- ceive at all. Yet some of them af- terwards, being persuaded with fair promises that the communion should be ministered unto them. according to king Edward's book, went to the parish priest (whose name was Cotes), and asked him after which sort he would admi- nister the sacrament. He an- swered to such as he favoured, that he would give it after the 720 BOOK OF MARTYRS. right sort ; the re.it would have it after the popish manner. To be short, none did communi- cate so, but only John Steyre and John Foxe; of which the one gave his wife leave to do as she thought best ; the other went about with threats to compel his wife, saying, that otherwise he would divorce himself from her. As for the rest, they withdrew themselves from church, resorting to their wonted company, only Foxe's wife tarried still at home, in heaviness, whose husband practised with the curate in the mean time, that the next day jWter he should give her the sacra- ment, which was the seventeenth day after Easter. But the very same day, unknowing to her hus- band, she went secretly to her company, and with tears declared how violently her husband had dealt with^ier. The other women bade her notwithstanding to be of good cheer, and said, that they would make their most earnest prayers to God both for her and her husband ; and indeed when they had so done, the matter took very good success. For the next day after Goodman Foxe came of his own accord unto them, a far other man than he was before, and bewailed his own rashness, praying them that they would for- give him, promising ever after to be more strong in faith, to the great rejoicing both of them and his wife. About half a year after this, the bishop of Norwich sent forth cer- tain of his ofiBcers or apparitors thither, which gave them warning every one to come to the church the next Sunday following. If they would not come, they should appear before the commissary out of hand, to render account of their absence. But the women having secret knowledge of this before, kept themselves out of the way on purpose, to avoid the summons or warning. Therefore when they were not at the church on the day appointed, the commissary did first suspend them according to the bi- shop of Rome's law, and within three weeks after did excommuni- cate them. Therefore when they perceived that an ofiBcer of the town was set to take some of them, they conveying themselves privily out of the town, escaped all dan- ger. THE CONGREGATION IN LONDON. No less wonderful was the pre- servation of the congregation in London, which from the first be- ginning of queen Mary, to the latter end thereof, continued, not- withstanding whatsoever the ma- lice, device, searching, and inqui- sition of men, or strictness of laws could work to the contrary. Such was the merciful hand of the Lord, according to his accustomed good- ness, ever working with his people. Of this bountiful goodness of the Lord, many and great examples appeared in the congregation which I now speak of. How often, and in what great danger did he de- liver them ! First, in Black-friars, when they should have resorted to sir Thomas Garden's house, private watch was laid forthem, but yet through God's providence the mischief was pre- vented, and they delivered. Again; they narrowly escaped from Aldgate, where spies were laid for them : and had not Thomas Simson, the deacon, espied them, and bid them disperse themselves away, they had been taken. For within two hours, the constables coming to the house after they were gone, demanded of the wife what company had been there. To whom she, to excuse the mat- ter, made answer again, saying, that half a dozen good fellows had been there at breakfast as they went a-maying. Another time also about the Great Conduit, they passing there through a very narrow alley, into a cloth-worker's loft, were espied, and the sherifis sent for : but be- fore they came, they having privy knowledge thereof, immediately shifted away out of the alley, John CONGREGATION IN LONDON. 721 Avales standing alone in the mer- cers' chapel, starting at them. Another like escape they made in a ship at Billingsgate, belong- ing to a certain good man of Leigh, where in the open sight of the peo- ple they were assembled together, and yet through God's mighty power escaped. Betwixt Ratcliff and RedrifT, in a ship called Jesus ship, twice or thrice they assembled, having there closely, after their accustomed manner, both sermon, prayer, and communion, and yet through the protection of the Lord they return- ed, although not unespied, yet un- taken. Moreover, in a cooper's house in Pudding Lane, so near they were to perils and dangers, that John Avales eoming into the house where they were, talked with the man of the house, and after he had asked a question or two, departed ; God so working that either he had no knowledge of them, or no power to take them. Burning of Dr. Farrar, Bishfp of i>t. David's, March 30, 1655, But they never escapeid more hardly, than once in Thames street in the night-time, where the house being beset with enemies, they were delivered by the means of a mariner, who being at that time pre- sent in the same company, and see- ing no other way to avoid, pluckt olf Lis slops and swam to the next boat, and so rowed the company over, using his shoes instead of FOX'S martyhs. oars ; and so the jeopardy was dis- patc'ied. What should I speak of the ex- treme danger which that goodly company was in at the taking ot Mr. Rough, their minister, and Cuthbert Simpson, their deacon, had not Goi 's providence given know- ledge before to Mr Rough in his sleep,that Cuthbert Simpson shonld leave behind him at home the 46 '/Il BOOK OF MARTYl^S. l>ook of all their names, which he was wont to carry about with him ; whereof mention is made before. Fn this church or conijregalion there were sometimes forty, some- times an hundred, sometimes two hundred, sometimes more, some- times less. About the latter time of queen Mary it greatly increased. From the beginning, which was about the first entry of queen Mary's reign, they had divers ministers; first, Mr. Seamier, then Thomas Foule, after him Mr. Kough, then Mr. Augustine Bern- her, and lastly, Mr. Bentham ; concerning the deliverance of which Mr. Bentham (being now bishop of Coventry and Litchfield), God's mighty providence most notably is to be considered. The story is thus: On a time when seven martyrs were burnt in Smithfield, a procla- mation was issued out, strictly for- bidding all persons whatsoever either to salute, or pray for, the prisoners as they came to the stake : the godly people hearing this, great numbers of them as- sembled together, resolving to com- fort and encourage them by their prayers : and when they came to- wards the stake, well guarded by officers armed with bills and glieves as usual, tlie whole congregation ran in upon them, kissing and em- bracing them, (not minding the officers and their weapons) and carried them to the stake, and might as well have carried them ofi", for ought the officers could do to prevent it. This done, and the people giving place to the officers, the procla- mation was read with a loud voice to the people in the names of the king and queen. That no man should pray for them, or once speak a word unto them. Mr. Bentham, tlien minister of the con- gregation, seeing the fire set to the martyrs, turned his eyes to the people and said. We know they are the people of God, and there- fore we cannot choose but say, God strengthen them : and then he boldly said. Almighty God, for Christ's sake strengthen them. With that all the people with one consent, and one voice, said. Amen, Amen. The noise whereof was so great, that the ofiicers could not tell what to say, or whom to accuse. And thus much concern- ing the congregation of the faith- ful assembling together at London in the time of queen Mary. Another time, as Mr. Bentham was going through St. Catherine's, intending to take a walk in the air, he was forced by two or three men to go along with them. Mr. Ben- tham being amazed at the sudden- ness of the matter, required what their purpose was, or whither they would have him go. They answer- ed, that by the occasion of a man there found drowned, the coroner's inquest was called and charged to sit upon him, of which inquest he must of necessity be one, &c. He endeavoured to excuse liimself, alleging that he had no skill, and less experience in such matters ; and if it would please them to let him go, they would meet with an- other more fit for their purpose. But when with this they would not be satisfied, he further urged that he v/as a scholar in the uni- versity of Oxford, and thereby was privileged from being of any in- quest. The coroner demanded the sight of his privilege. He said, if he would give him leave, he would fetch it. Then said the coroner, The queen must be served without delay ; and so constrained him to be at the hearing of the matter. Then a book was offered him to swear upon ; upon his opening it, he found it to be a popish prim- mer, and refused to swear thereon, and declared moreover what su- perstition in the book was con- tained. What, said the coroner, I think Vt'e shall have an heretic among us. And upon that, after much reasoning, he was committed to the custody of an officer till fur- ther examination: by occasion whereof he hardly could have es- caped, had not the Lord helped EDWARD BENNET— JEFFERY IIUUST. 723 M'here man was not able. What followed? As they were thus con- tending about matters of heresy, suddenly cometh the coroner of the admiralty, disannulling and re- pealing the order and calling of that inquest, for that it was (as he said) pertaining to his office ; and therefore the other coroner and his company in that place had no- thing to do. And so the first co- roner was discharged and displac- ed ; by reason whereof Mr. Ben- tham escaped their hands. EDWARD BENNET. About the second year of queen Mary, Edward Bennet,then dwell- ing at Queenhithe, was desired by Mr. Tingle, then prisoner in New- gate, to bring him a New Testa- ment. He procuring one of Mr. Coverdale's translation, wrapt it in a handkerchief, saying to George the keeper, who asked him what he had, that it was a piece of powder- ed beef. Let me see it said he. Perceiving what it was, he brought him to sir Roger Cholmley, who examined him why he did so, say- ing that book was not lawful, and so committed him to Wood-street Compter, where he continued twenty-five weeks. Dr. Storj^ coming to the prison to examine other prisoners, this Bennet looking out at the grate, spake to him, desiring him to help him out, for he had long lain in prison. To whom Dr. Story an- swered. Wast thou not before me in Christ's church ? Yes forsooth, said Bennet. Ah, said Story, thou dost not believe in the sacrament of the altar ? Marry, I will help thee out; come, said he to the keeper, turn him out. I will help him ; and so took Bennet with him, and brought him to Cluny, in Pa- ternoster-row, and bade him bring him to the Coal-house, and there he was in the stocks a week. Then the bishop sent for him to talk with him, and first asked him if he were confessed? No, said Bennet. He asked him if he would be confessed ? No, said he. Then he asked him if the priest could take away his sins. No, said Ben- net, I do not so believe. Then he and Harpsfield laughed at him, and mocked him, asking him if he did not believe that what- soever the priest here bound in earth, should be bound in heaven, and whatsoever he looscthin earth, should be loosed in heaven. No, said Bennet ; but I believe that the minister of God, preaching God's word truly, and administering the sacraments according to the same, whatsoever he bindeth on earth, should be bound in heaven, and whatsoever he looseth, &c. Then the bishop putting him aside, said he should go to Fulliani, and be whipped. Mr. Buswell, a priest, then carae to him, lying in the stocks, and brought Cranmer's recantation, saying, that he had recanted. My faith, said the other, lieth in no man's book, but in him which hath redeemed me. The next Saturday, Bennet with five others were called to mass in the chapel. The mass being done, five of them went to prison, and were afterwards burn- ed. Bennet being behind and coming toward the gate, the porter opening to a company going out, asked if there were no prisoners there. No, said they. Bennet standing in open sight before him, with other serving men who were there by reason that Bonner made many priests that day, when the gates were opened, went out amongst them, and so escaped. JEFFERY HURST. In the town of Shakerley, in Lancashire, dwelt one Jeflery Hurst, the son of an honest yeo- man, who had besides him eleven children, the said Jefi'ery being the first and eldest: and their father being willing to bring them up, so that they should be able another day to help themselves, he did bind this Jeffery apprentice unto the craft of nailing, to make all kind of nails, w hich occupation he learned, and serred out the time 724 BOOK OF MARTYRS. of seven ycius, which being ex- pired be gave himself at times to learn of his other brethren which went to school ; and as he was very willing to the same, so God sent him knowledge in the scrip- ture. After this he took to vdfe the sister of Mr. George Marsh, of whose martyrdom mention is made before, and being very familiar with him, did greatly amend his know- ledge. Now when queen Mary was entered the first year of her reign, he kept himself away from their doings and came not to the church : whereupon he was laid in wait for and called heretic, and Lollard, and so for fear of further danger he was compelled to leave his wife and child, and fly into Yorkshire, and there being not known, did lead his life, returning sometimes by night to comfort his wife, and bringing with him some preacher or other, who used to preach unto them so long as the time would serve, and so departed by night again. And thus in much fear did he with others lead his life, till the last year of the reign of queen Mary. Then it chanced that the said JefiFery Hurst, after the death of his father, came home and kept close for seven or eight weeks. There dwelt not far off, at Mor- less, a certain justice of the peace, and of the quorum, named Thomas Lelond, who hearing of him, ap- pointed a time to come to his fa- ther's house where he then dwelt, to rifle the house for books, and to search for him also, and so he did. Jefl"ery and his company having knowledge of their coming, took the books which were in the house, as the Bible, the communion book, and the New Testament of Tindal's translation, and divers others, and threw them all underneath a tub of fat, conveying also the said JeflFery under the same, with a great deal of straw underneath him ; for as it chanced they had the more time, because when the jus- tice came almost to the door, he stayed and would not enter the hoBse till he bad sent for Hurst's mother's landlady, Mr«. Shakerley ; and then with her consent intended to go forwards. In the mean time, Jefl'ery by such as were with him, was willed to lay in his win- dow the Testament of Tindal's translation, and a little book con- taining the third part of the Bible, with the book of Ecclesiasticus, to try what they would say unto them. Now as concerning the search- ers, they found nothing but Latin books, as grammar, and such like. These be not what we look for (said they), we must see farther, and so looked into Hurst's chamber, where they found the foresaid books. Then sir Ralph taking up the Tes- tament, looked on it, and smiled. His master seeing that, said. Now, sir Ralph, what have we here l For-sooth, said he, a Testament of Tindal's translation, plain heresy, and none worse than it. Then said he, All their goods are lost to the queen, and their bodies to pri- son, and was wonderfully hasty ; notwithstanding, through the means of Mrs. Shakerley, he was content to stay a little. Then the priest looked on the other book. What say you to that, sir Ralph .' is that as bad as the other? No, said he, but it is not good that they should have such English books to look on, for this and such others may do much harm. Then he asked his mother where her eldest son was, and her daughter Alice. She answered, she could not tell ; they had not been with her a long time. An^d he swore by God's body, he would make her tell where they were, or he would lay her in Lancaster dungeon ; and yet he would have them notwithstanding too. To be short, for fear, he liad his brother J. Hurst and his mother bound in an hundred pounds to bring the parties before him in fourteen days time, and so he departed, and the priest put both the books in his bosom, and carried them away with him. Then John Hurst went after them, desiring that he might WILLIAM WOOD. 7«6 have the book which the priest found no fault with ; but he said, they should answer to them both, and which soever was the better, neither was good. As this passed on when the time was come that Jefiery Hurst and his sister should be examined, the justice sent lor them betimes in the morning, and had prepared a mass to begin withal, asking Jeftery Hurst if he would first go and see his Maker, and then he would talk further with him. To whom Jef- fery answered and said, Sir, my Maker is in heaven, and I am as- sured in going to your mass I shall find no edification thereby; and therefore I pray you hold me excused. Well, well, said he, I perceive I shall find you an heretic, by God ; but I will go to mass, and I will not lose it for all your prattling. Then he went into his chapel, and when mass was done he sent for them, and caused his priest to read a scroll unto them concerning the seven sacraments ; and ever as he spake of the body and blood of Christ, he put off his cap, and said, Lo, you may see, you will deny these things, and care not for your prince ; but you shall feel it before I have done with you, and all the faculty of you, with other talk more between them, I know not what ; but in the end they were licensed to depart under sureties to appear again before him within three weeks, and then to go to Lancaster. However, in the mean time it so pleased God, that within four days of the day appointed, it was noised that the queen was dead, and within four- teen days after the said Jeffery Hurst had his two books sent home, and nothing was said unto him. WILLIAM WOOD. William Wood, baker, dwelling in Kent, was examined before Dr. Kenall, chancellor of Rochester, Dr. Chedsey, mayor, and Mr. Ro- binson, the scribe, on the 19th day of October, and in the second year of queen Mary, in St. Nicho- las church in Rochester. Scribe. William Wood, you are presented, because you will not come to the church, nor receive the blessed sacrament of the altar. How say you? Have you received, or have you not? Wood. I have not received it, nor dare I receive it, as you minis- ter it. Kenall. Thou heretic, what is the cause that thou hast not re- ceived the blessed sacrament of the altar ? And at this word they all put off their caps, and made low obeisance. Wood. There are three causes that make ray conscience afraid that I dare not receive it. The first, Christ did deliver it to his twelve apostles and said, Take, eat, and drink ye all of this, &c. and ye eat and drink up all alone. The second cause is ; you hold it to be worshipped, contrary to God's commandment, Thou shalt not bow down nor worship. The third cause is ; you administer it in a strange tongue, contrary ,to St. Paul's doctrine, I would rather have five words with understand- ing, than ten thousand with tongues : by reason whereof the people be ignorant of the death of Christ. Kenall. Thou heretic, wilt thou have any plainer words than these. " Take, eat, this is my body ?" Wilt thou deny the scriptures I Wood. I will not deny the holy scriptures, God forbid, but with my heart T do faithfully believe them. St. Paul saith, " God call- eth those things that are not, as though they were ;" and Christ saith, " I am a vine : I am a door." St, Paul saith, "The rock is Christ:" All which are figurative speeches, wherein one thing is spoken, and another thing is under- stood. Robinson. You make a very long talk of this matter: learn, Wood, learn. Kenall. Nay, these heretics will not learn: look how this heretic 726 BOOK OF MARTYRS. jlorieth in himself: thou fool, art thou wiser than the queen and her council, and all the learned men of this realm ? Wood. And please you, Mr. Chancellor, I think you would be loth to have such ^lory, to have your life and goods taken away, and to be thus called upon, as you rail upon nie. Bat the servant is not greater than his master. And where you do mock me, and say tliat I am wiser tlian the queen and her council, St. Paul saith, " The wisdom of the wise of this world is foolishness before God, and he that will be wise in this world shall be accounted but a fool. Kenall. Dost thou not believe that after these words spoken by a priest. Hoc est corpus meum, " thi.s is my body ;" there remaineth no more bread and wine, but the very flesh and blood of Christ, as he was born of the virgin Mary, really and substantially, in quantity and quality, as he did hang upon the cross ? Wood. I pray you, Mr. Chan- cellor, give me leave, for my learn- ing, to ask you one question, and I will answer you after. Kenall. It is some wise question, I warrant you. Wood. God spake to the pro- phet Ezekiel, saying, " Thou son of man, take a razor, and shave oflf the hair of thy head, and take one part and cast it into the air, take the second part and put it into thy coat lap ; and take the third part, and cast it into the fire : and this is Jerusalem." I pray you, Mr. Chancellor, was this hair that the prophet did cast into the fire, or was it Jerusalem. Kenall. It did signify Jerusa- lem. Wood. Even so this word of Christ, " This is my body," is not to be understood, that Christ's carnal, natural and real body, the same, in quantity and quality as it was born of the virgin Mary, and as he was crucified on the cross, is present or enclosed in the sacra- inaent ; but it doth signify Christ's body, as St. Paul saith, " So oft as ye eat of this bread, and drink of this cup, you shall shew forth tlie Lord's death till he come." What should the apostle mean by this word, " Till he come," if he were here carnally, naturally, cor- porally, and really, in the same quantity and quality as he was born of the virgin Mary, and as he did hang on the cross, as you say? But St. Paul saith, "You shall shew the Lord's death till he come." This doth argue, that he is not here as you would have us to believe. Chedsey. I will prove that Christ is here present under the form of bread, but not in quantity and quality. Kenall. Yes, he is here present in quantity and quality. Chedsey. He is here present under a form, and not in quantity and quality. Yes, said Kenall. No, said Chedsey. I will prove him here in quantity and quality, said Kenall. I will prove the contrary, said Chedsey. And these two doctors were so earnest in this matter, the one to afiirm, the other to deny, contend- ing so fiercely one with the other, that they foamed at the mouth, and one was ready to spit in another's face, so that in great fury and rage the two doctors rose up from the judgment seat, and Dr. Kenall de- parted out of the church in great rage and fury immediately. Wood. Behold, good people, they would have us to believe, that Christ is naturally, really, in quan- tity and quality, present in the sa- crament, and yet they cannot tell themselves, nor agree within them- selves how he is there. At these words the people made a great shout, and the mayor stood up and commanded the people to keep silence. And the God that did deliver St. Paul out of the hands of the high priests, by the contention that was between the Pharisees and sadducecs, did even DUCHESS OB' SUFFOLK. 727 so deliver mc at that time out of the mouths of the bloody papists, by means of the contention of these two (iociois. jl31ess(-d be the name of tfie Lord, who liatli promised to lay no more upon his people than he will enabie them to beai-, and in the midst of temptation can make a way for them (how, and when it pleaseth him) to escape out of all dangers. CATHEKINE, DUCHKSS Ol" SUFFOLK. Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, surmising^ the lady Catherine, baroness of Willough- by and Eresby, and duchess dowa- ger of Sufl'olk, to be one of his ancient enemies, because he knew he had deserved no better of her, devised, in the holy time of the first Lent in queen Mary's reign, a holy practice of revenge, first, by touching her in the person of her husband, Richard Berty, esquire, for whom he sent an attachment (having the great seal at his devo- tion) to the sheritr of Lincolnshire, with a special letter, commanding most strictly the same sherift' to attRch the said Richard immedi- ately, and without bail to bring him up to London to his lordship. Mr. Berty being clear in conscience, and free from oiience toward the queen, could not conjecture any cause of this strange process, un- less it were some quarrel for re- ligion, which he thought could not be so sore as the process pre- tended. The sherifl', notwithstanding the commandment, adventured only to take a bond of Mr. Berty, with two sureties, in a thousand pounds, for his appearance before the bi- shop on Good-Friday following ; at which day Mr. Berty appeared, the bishop then being at his house by St. Mary Overy's. Of whose pretence, when the bishop under- stood by a gentleman of his cham- ber, he came out of his gallery into his diuing-chamber in a great rage, where he found a crowd of suitors, saying he would not that day hear any, but came forth only to know of Mr. Berty, how he, being * subject, durst so arrogantly set at light two former processes of the queen. Pvlr. Berty answered, that not- withstanding my lord's words might seem to the rest somewhat sharp towards him, yet he conceived great comfort of them. For whereas he before thought it ex- tremely hard to be attached, hav- ing used no obstinacy or contu- macy, now he gathered of those words, that ray lord meant not otherwise but to have used some ordinary process: none, however, came to his hands. Yea, marry, said the bishop, I have sent you two subpoenas to appear immediately, and I am sure you received them, for I commit- ted the trust of them to no worse a man than Mr. Solicitor ; and I shall make you an example to all Lin- colnshire for your obstinacy. Mr. Berty denying the receipt of any subpoena, humbly prayed his lordship to suspend his displeasure and the punishment till he had good trial thereof, and then, if it please him, to double the pain for the fault, if any were. Well, said the bishop, I have ap- pointed myself this day (according to the holiness of the same) for de- votion,and I will not further trouble myself with you ; but 1 enjoin you in a thousand pounds not to depart without leave, and 1o be here again to-morrow at seven of the clock. Mr. Berty came at the time ap- pointed, at which time the bishop had with him Mr. Serjeant Stamp- ford, to whom he moved certain questions of the said Mr. Berty, because Mr. Serjeant was towards the lord Wriothesiey, late earl of Southampton, and chancellor of England, with whom the said Mr. Berty was brought up. Mr. Ser- jeant gave a very friendly account of Mr. Berty, of his own knowledge, for the time of their conversation together. Whereupon the bishop caused Mr. Berty to be brought in, and first making a false train (as God w^ould,: without fire) before he 728 BOOK OF MARTYRS. wouJd descend to the quarrel of religion, lie assaulted him in this manner. Bh/iop of Winchester. The queen's pleasure is, that you shall make present payment of 4000 pounds, due to her father by duke Charles, late husband to the duchess your wife, whose executor she was. Berty. Pleaseth it your lordship, that debt is installed, and is, ac- cording to that instalment, truly answered. Bishop. Tush, the queen will not be bound by instalments, in the time of Kett's government: for so I esteem the late government. Berty. The instalment was ap- pointed by king Henry the Eighth : besides, the same was, by special commissioners, confirmed in king Edward's time; and the lord trea- .surer being an executor also to the duke Charles, solely and wholly, took upon him, before the said commissioners, to discharge the same. Bishop. If it be true that you say, I will shew you favour. But of another thing, Mr. Berty, I will admonish you, as meaning you well. I hear evil of your religion, yet 1 can hardly think evil of you, whose mother I know to be as godly a catholic as any within this land ; yourself brought up with a master, whose education, if I should disal- low, I might be charged as author of his error. Besides, partly I know you myself, and understand of my friends enough to make me your friend: wherefore I will not doubt of you; but I pray you, if I may ask the question of my lady your wife, is she now as ready to set up the mass as she was lately to pull it down, when she caused, in her pro- gress,a dog to be carried in a rochet, and called by my name ? or doth she think her lambs now safe enough, who said to me, when I vailed my bonnet to her out of my chamber window in the Tower, that it was merry with the lambs, now the wolf was shut up? Another time, my lord, her husband, having in- cited me aud divers ladies to din- ner, desired every lady to choose him whom she loved best, and so place themselves : my lady, your wife, taking me by the hand, for my lord would not have her to take himself, said. That, forasmuch as she could not sit down with my lord, whom she loved best, she had chosen him whom she loved worst. Of the device of the dog, quoth Mr. Berty, she was neither the author nor the allower. The words, though in that season they sounded bitter to your lordship, yet if it would please you, without offence, to know the cause, I am sure the one will clear the other. As touching setting up of mass which she learned, not only by strong persuasions of divers ex- cellent learned men, but by uni- versal consent and order, these six years past, inwardly to abhor, if she should outwardly allow, she should both to Christ shew herself a false Christian, and to her prince a masquing subject. You know, my lord, one by judgment reform- ed, is more worth than a thousand transformed temporisers. To force a confession of religion by mouth, contrary to that in the heart, work- ing damnation where salvation is pretended. Yea, marry, quoth the bishop, that deliberation would do well, if she were required to come from an old religion to a new ; but now she is to return from a new to an ancient religion; wherein, when she made me her gossip, she was as earnest as any. For that, my lord, (said Mr. Berty) not long since .she answer- ed a friend of her's, using your lordship's speech. That religion went not by age, but by truth : and therefore she was to be turned by persuasion, and not by command- ment I pray yon, (quoth the bishop) think you it possible to persuade ber? Yea verily (said Mr. Berty) with the truth : for she is reasonable enough. DUCHESS OF SUFFOLK. 720 The bishop, in reply to this, said, It will be a marvellous grief to the priuce of Spain, and to all the no- bility that sliali come with him, -when they shall find but two noble pcrsonasjes of the Spanish race within tl)is land, the queen and my lady your wife, and one of them gone from the faith. Mr. Berty answered, that he trusted they should find no fruits of infidelity in her. The bishop then persuaded Mr. Berty to labour earnestly for the reformation of her opinion, and offering large friendship, released him of his bond from further ap- pearance. The duchess and her husband, from the daily accounts which they received from their friends, understanding that the bishop meant to call her to an account of her faith, whereby extremity might follow, devised how they might pass the seas by the queen's li- cence. Mr. Berty had a ready means ; for there remained great sums of money due to the old duke of Suttolk (one of whose executors the duchess was) beyond the seas, the emperor himself being one of those debtors. Mr. Berty communicated this his purposed suit for licence to pass the seas, and the cause, to the bishop, adding, that he took this to be the most proper time to deal with the emperor, by reason of likelihood of marriage between the queen and his son. I like your device well, said the bishop, but I think it better that you tarry the prince's coming, and I will procure you his letters also to his fatlier. Nay, said Mr. Berty, under your lordship's correction, and pardon for so liberal speech, I suppose the time will then be less con- venient ; for when the marriage is consummated, the emperor hath his desire, but till then he will refuse nothing to win credit with us. By St. Mary, said the bishop, smiling, you guess, shrewdly. Well, proceed in your suit to the 1 queen, and it shall not lack my helping hand. Mr. Berty found so good suc- cess, that he obtained the queen's licence, not only to pass the seas, but to pass and repass them as often as he should think proper, till he had finished his business beyond the seas. He accordingly embarked at Dover, about the be- ginning of June, in the first year of her reign, leaving the duchess behind, who, by agreement with her husband, followed, taking barge at Lion-key, very early in the morning of the first of January ensuing, not without some danger. None of the persons who ac- companied her, except Mr. Robert Cranwell, an old gentleman, whom Mr. Berty had provided for that purpose, were made privy to her departure till the instant. She took her daughter with her, an in- fant of one year old, and the mean- est of her servants, for she imagin- ed the best would not adventure that fortune with her. They were in number four men, one a Greek- born, who was a rider of horses, another a joiner, the third a brewer, the fourth a fool*, a kitchen-maid, a gentlewoman, and a laundress. As she departed her house call- ed the Barbican, between four and five o'clock in the mornirg, with her company and baggage, one Atkinson, a herald, keeper of her house, hearing a noise, rose and came out with a torch in his hand, as she was going out of the gate ; wherewith being amazed, she was forced to leave a mail f with neces- saries for her young daughter, and a milk pot with milk, in the same gate-house, commanding all her servants to hasten forward to Lion- key : and taking with her only the two women and her child, as soon as she was clear of her own house, perceiving the herald to follow, * A fool, by profession, was, in the six- teenth century, an almost indispensable part of the retinue of the nobility of this and other countries. + A trunk, or porttnanteani. 730 BOOK OF MARTYRS. she stept into the Charter-house justbj'. The herald coming out of the duchess's house, and seeing nobody stirring, nor assured (though by the mail suspecting) that she was departed, rclurned in ; and while he was searching the parcels left in the mail, the duchess issued into the streets, and proceeded on her journey, she knowing the place only by name where she should take her boat, but not the way thither, nor any that was with her. Likewise her servants having divided them- selves, none but one knew the way to the said Lion-key. So she appeared like a mean merchant's wife, and the rest like mean servants, walking in the streets unknown, she took the way that leads to Finsbury lield, and the others walked the city streets as they lay open before them, till by chance, more than discretion, they met all suddenly together a little within Moregate,from whence they passed directly to Lion-key, and there took barge in a morning so misty, that the steer's-man was loth to launch out, but that they urged him. So soon as the day permitted, the council was informed of her departure, and some of them came forthwith to her house to in- quire of the manner thereof, and ' took an inventory of her goods, besides further order devised for search and watch to apprehend and stay her. The fame of her departure reached Leigh, a town at the Land's End, before her approach- ing thither. By Leigh dwelt one Gosling, a merchant of London, an old acquaintance of Cranwell's, wdiither the said Cranwell brought the duchess, naming her Mrs. White,the daughter of Mr. Gosling, for such a daughter he had who never was in that country. She there reposed herself, and made new garments for her daughter, having lost her own in the mail at Barbican. When the time came that she should take ship, being constrained that night to lie at an inn in Leigh, (where she was again almost te- trayed) yet notwithstanding by God's good working she escaped that hazard ; at length, as the tide and wind served, they went aboard, and carried twice into the seas, almost into the coast of Zea- land, by contrary wind were driven to the place from whence they came ; and at the last recoil certain persons came to the shore, sus- pecting she was within that ship ; yet having examined one of her company that was on shore for fresh provision, and liuding by the simplicity of his tale only the ap- pearance of a mean merchant's wife to be on ship-board, he ceased to search any further. To be short, so soon as the duchess had landed in Brabant, she and her women were appa- relled like the women of the Ne- therlands with hooks ; and so she and her husband took their journey towards Cleveland, and being ar- rived at a town called Santon, took a house there, until they might further devise of some sure place where to settle themselves. About five miles from Santon, is a free town called Wesell, under the said Duke of Cleve's dominion, and one of the Hans-towns, privi- leged with the company of the Steel-yard, in London, whither divers Walloons were tied for re- ligion, and had for their minister one Francis Perusell, then called Francis de Rivers, who had re- ceived some courtesy in England at the duchess's hands. Mr. Bcrty being yet at Santon, practised with him to obtain a protection from the magistrates for his, and his wife's abode at Wesell ; which was the sooner procured, because the state of the duchess was not discovered, but only to the chief magistrate, earnestly bent to shew them plea- sure, while this protection was in seeking. In the mean while at the town of Santon was a muttering, that the duchess and her husband were greater personages than they gave themselves forth : and the magis- trates not very well inclined to re- DUCHESS OF SUFFOLK. 731 lig'ioH, the bishop of Arras also being deau of the j^reat minster, orders were taken that the duchess and her husband should be exa- mined of their condition and reli- gion. Which being discovered by a gentleman of that country to Mr, Beity, he without delay taking no more than the duchess, her daugh- ter, and two others with them, meant privily that night to get to Wesell, leaving the rest of his family at Santon. After they had travelled one English mile from the town, there fell a mighty rain of continuance, whereby a long frost and ice, be- fore congealed, was thawed. But being now on the way, and over- taken with the night, they sent their two servants (which only went with them) to a village as they passed, to hire a car for their ease, but none could be hired. At last, between six and seven o'clock of a dark night, they came to Wesell, and repairing to the inns for lodg- ing, after sueh a painful journey, found hard entertainment ; for going from inn to inn, offering large sums for a small lodging, they were refused by all the inn- holders, who suspected them to be persons of bad character. Mr. Berty, destitute of all other succour of hospitality, resolved to bring the duchess to the porch of the great church in the town, and so to buy coals, victuals, and straw for their miserable repose there that night, or at least till by God's help he might provide her better lodg- ing. Mr. Berty at that time under- stood not much Dutch, and by rea- son of bad weather and late season of the night, he could not happen upon any that could speak English, French, Italian, or Latin, till at last going towards the church-porch, he heard two striplings talking Latin, to whom he approached, and offered them two stivers to bring him to some Walloon's house. By these boys, and God's good conduct, he chanced upon the house where Mr. Perusell supped that night, who had procured them the protection of the magistrates of that town. At the first knock the good man of the house him- self came to the door, and opening it, asked Mr. Berty what he was. Mr. Berty said, an Englishman, that sought for one Mr. Perusell's house. The Walloon desired Mr. Berty to stay a while, who went back, and told Mr, Perusell, that tlie same English gentleman, of whom they had talked at supper- time, had sent by likelihood his servant to speak with hira. Where- upon Perusell came to the door, and beholding Mr. Berty, the duchess, and their child could not speak to them, nor they to hira, for tears. At length reco- vering themselves, they saluted one another. Within a few days after, by Mr. Perusell's means, they hired a very fair house in the town. The time thus passing forth, as they thought themselves thus happily settled, suddenly a watch-word came from sir John Mason, then queen Mary's ambassador in the Netherlands, that my lord Paget had feigned an errand to the baths that way : niid whereas the duke of Brunswick was shortly with ten ensigns to pass by Wesell for the service of the house of Austria against the French king, the said duchess and her husband should be with the same company intercepted. Wherefore to prevent the cruelty of these enemies, Mr. Berty with his wife and child departed to a place called Wineheim, under the Palsgrave's dominion; where they continued till their necessaries be- gan to fail them. At which time, in the midst of their despair, there came suddenly to them letters from the Palatine of Vilva, that the king of Poland was informed of their hard estate by a baron, named Joannes Alasco, that was some- time in England, offering them great courtesy. This greatly re- vived their spirits. Yet consider- ing they should remove from many of their countrymen and acquaint- ance, to a place so far distant, 732 BOOK OF MARTYRS. they advised thereupon with one Mr. Carloe, late bishop of Chiches- ter, that if he would vouchsafe to take some pains therein, they would make him a fellow of that journey. So finding him agree- able, they sent with him letters of great thanks to the king and Pala- tine, and also a few principal jew- els (which only they had left of many), to solicit for them, that the king would vouchsafe under his seal, to assure them of the thing which he so honourably by letters had offered. That favour, by the forwardness of the Palatine, was as soon grant- ed as uttered. Upon which assur- ance the said duchess and her hus- band with their family, began their journey in April, 1557, from the castle of Wineheim, where they before lay, towards Frankfort. In which their journey, it were too long here to describe what dangers fell by the way, upon them and their whole company, by reason of the Landgrave's captain, who, un- der a quarrel pretended for a spaniel of Mr. Berty's, set upon them in the highway with his horsemen, thrusting their boar- spears through the waggon where the women and children were, Mr. Berty having but four horsemen along with him. In which scuffle it happened that the captain's horse was slain under him. Whereupon a rumour was spread immediately through the towns and villages about, that the Landgrave's captain should be slain by certain Walloons, which exasperated the countrymen thu more fiercely against Mr. Berty, as afterward it proved. For as he was motioned by his wife to save himself by the swiftness of his horse, and to re- cover some town thereby for his rescue, he so doing, was in worse case than before : for the towns- men and the captain's brother, sup- posing no less but that the captain had been slain, pressed so eagerly upon him, that he had been there taken and murdered among them, had not he (as God would have it) espied a ladder leaning to a win- dow, by which he got into the house, and went up into the gar- ret, where, with his dagger and rapier he defended himself for a time : but at length the burgh- master coming thither with another magistrate, who could speak Latin, he was advised to submit himself to the order of the law. Mr. Berty knowing himself to be clear, and the captain to be alive, was the more bold to submit himself to the judg- ment of the law, upon condition that the magistrate would receive him under safe conduct, and de- fend him from the rage of the multitude. Which being promised, he willingly delivered up his wea- pons, and peaceably surrendered himself into the hands of the ma- gistrates, and so was committed to safe custody till the truth of his cause could be tried. Then Mr. Berty wrote a letter to the Landgrave, and another to the earl of Erbagh, dwelling about eight miles ofi', who came early in the morning to the town, where the duchess was brought with her waggon, Mr. Berty also being in the same town under custody. The earl, who had some intelli- gence before of the duchess, after he was come and had shewed her such courtesy as he thought be- longed to her estate and dignity, the townsmen perceiving the earl behave himself so humbly to her, began to consider more of the mat- ter, and further understanding the captain to be alive, both they and the authors of this stir, drew in their horns, shrunk awaj% and made all the friends they could to Mr. Berty and his lady, beseeching them not to report their doings after thie worst manner. And thus Mr. Berty and his wife, escaping that danger, pro- ceeded in iheir journey toward Poland, where in conclusion they were quietly entertained by the King, and placed honourably in the earldom of the said king of the Poles, in Sanogelia, called Cro- zan, where Mr. Berty with the THOMAS HORNTON— THOMAS SPRAT. 733^ duchess, having- the king's absolute power of government over the said earldom, continued in honour, peace and plenty, till the death of queen Mary. THOMAS HORNTON, MINISTER. Thomas Hornton used often- times to travel between Germany and England, for the benefit and sustenance of the poor English ex- iles there : so he journeying on a time between Maestricht and Co- logn, chanced to be taken by cer- tain rovers, and so being led by them away, was in no little danger: and yet this danger of his was not so great, but the present help of the Lord was greater to aid and deliver him out of the same. THOMAS SPRAT, TANNER. He had been some time a ser- vant to one justice Bent, a heavy persecutor, and therefore forsaking his master for religion's sake, he went to Calais, (accompanied by one William Porrege, who was afterwards a minister) from whence they used often for their neces- sary afl'airs to have recourse to England. In the fourth year of queen Mary they landed at Dover, and taking their journey together toward Sand- wich, suddenly upon the way, three miles from Dover, they happened to meet justice Brent, the two Blachendens, and other gentle- men with their servants, to the number of ten or twelve horses. One of the Blachendens happened to know William Porrege, the other had only heard of his name. Sprat first espying his master Brent, was much surprised, say- ing to his companion, Yonder is Mr. Brent, God have mercy upon us. Well, quoth Porrege, seeing now there is no remedy, let us go on our way. And so think- ing to pass by them, they kept themselves at a distance. Sprat also shadowing his face with his cloak. One of Mr. Brenfs servants knowing Sprat, called out to his master, saying, Yonder is Thomas Sprat; at which words they all stopt their horses, and called for Thomas Sprat to come to them. They call you, said William Por- rege ; now there is no remedy, but we are taken : and so would have persuaded him to go to them being called, for that there was no es- caping from so many horsemen in those plains and downs, where was no wood near them by a mile, and but one hedge about a stone's throw off. All this notwithstand- ing. Sprat staid, and would not go. Then they called again, sit- ting still on horseback. Ah, sirrah, quoth the justice, why come you not hither? And still his com- panion moved him to go, seeing there was no hope of getting away. Nay, said Sprat, I will not go to them; and therewith took to his legs, running to the hedge that was next him. They seeing that, set spurs to their horses, thinking it impossible for him to escape their hands. When he got to the hedge, scrambling through the bushes, they were at his heels, and struck at him with their swords, one of the Blachendens (both of them hatersof God's word) cruelly crying, Cut one of his legs off". He had no sooner got through the hedge, but one of justice Brent's servants (a fellow that had some time been Sprat's fellow-ser- vant) followed him on foot : the rest rode up the other side of the hedge to meet him at the end. As Sprat was pursued on one side of the hedge by his old fellow- servant in his boots, and on the other side by horsemen, his fellow- servant cried out. You had as good tarry ; for we will have you, we will have you ; yet notwithstand- ing he still kept his course till he came to a steep down-hill at the end of the hedge, down which he ran from them, for the horsemen could not follow him without fetch- ing a great compass about. After he had ran almost a mile he got to a wood, but by that time they were just behind him ; but night coming on, and it beginning tu ruin, they 734 BOOK OF MARTYRS. pursued him no further. And thus by the providence of God they both got clear. Not long after this, one of the two cruel Blachendens was mur- dered by his own servant. JOHN CORNET. This young- man was apprentice to a musician at Colchester, and ' being sent by his master to a wed- ding (in the second year of queen Mary, in a town hard by, called Rough-hedge, was requested by a company there of good men (the constables being present), to sing some songs of the scripture : he happened to sing a song, called, News out of London, which tended against the mass, and against the queen's misproceedings. Whereupon the next day he was accused by the parson of Rough- hedge, called Yacksley, and so committed, first to the constable, where his master gave him over, and his mother forsook and cursed bim. From thence he was sent to justice Cannall, and then to the earl of Oxford, by whose orders he was first put in irons and chains, and after that so manacled, that the blood spirted out of his fingers' ends, because he would not confess the names of those who allured him to sing. After that, he was sent again to Rough-hedge, there whip- ped till the blood followed, and then banished the town for ever. THOMAS BRYCE. He being in the house of John Seal, in the parish of Horting, the bailifi' and other neij!;hbours were sent by sir John Baker, to search for, and apprehend him, and though they perfectly knew his stature and the colour of his 'garments, yet then they had no power to know him, though he stood before their faces. So miraculously did the Almighty dazzle their eyes, that they asked for him, and looked on him, yet notwithstanding he quietly took his bag of books, and departed out of the house without any hand Jaid upon him. Also another time, about the se- cond year of queen Mary, the said Thomas Bryce, with John Bryce, his elder brother, coming then from Wesell, meeting together at their father's house, as they tra- velled towards London, to give warning to one Springfield there, which else was like to be taken unawares by his enemies waiting for him upon Gad's-hill, fell into company with a promoter, who dogged and followed tliem again to Gravesend, into the town, and laid the house for them where they were, all the ways as they should go to the water's side, so that it had not been possible for them to have avoided the present danger of those persecutors, had not God's provident care otherwise disposed for his servants, through the ostler of the inn, who conveyed them under cover by a secret pas- sage; whereby they took barge a mile out of town, and so in the end both the lives pf them, and also Springfield, were preserved, through God's gracious protection. GERTRUDE CROKHAY. Gertrude Crokhay, dwelling in St. Catherine's, by the Tower of Loudon, and being then in her husband's house, it happened iu the year 1556, that the pope's childish Saint Nicholas went about the parish. Which she under- standing, shut her door against him, not suffering him to enter into her house. Then Dr. Mallet hearing there- of, and being then master of the said St. Catherine's, the next day came to her, and asked why she would not the night before let in St. Nicholas, and receive his blessing, &c. To whom she an- swered thus: Sir, I know not tliat St. Nicholas came hither. Yes, quoth Mallet, here was one that represented St. Nicholas. Indeed, sir, (said she), here was one that was my neighbour's child, but not St. Nicholas: for St. Ni- cholas is in heaven. I was afraid of them that came with him, to have had my purse cut by them: for I have heard of men robbed by THOMAS ROSE. 735 St, Nicholas's clerks, &,c. So Mallet perceiving that nothing could be gotten at her hands, went his way as he came, and she for that time escaped. Then in the year 1557, a little before Whitsuntide, it happened that the said Gertrude answered for a child that was baptized of one Thomas Saunders, which child was christened secretly in a house after the order of the service-book in king Edward's time; and that being soon known to her enemies, she was sought for; who under- standing nothing thereof, went be- yond the sea into Guelderland, to see certain lands that should come to her children in the right of her first husband, who was a stranger born: and being there about a quarter of a year, at length com- ing home by Antwerp, she chanced to meet with one John Johnson, a Dutchman, alias John de Villa, of Antwerp, shipper, who seeing her there, went out of malice to the Margrave, and accused her to be an anabaptist, whereby she was taken, and carried to prison. The cause why he did thus, was, be- cause he claimed of Mr. Crokhay, her husband, a sum of raonej' which was not his due, for a ship that Mr. Crokhay Iwught of him, and because he could not get it, he wrought this displeasure. Well, she being in prison, lay there a fortnight. In which time she saw some that were prisoners there, who privately were drowned in Rhenish wine-vats, and after se- cretly put in sacks and cast into the river. Now she, good woman, expecting to be so served, took thereby such fear, that it brought the beginning of her sickness, of which at length s!ie died. Then at last was she called be- fore the Margrave, and charged with anabaptistry ; which she there utterly denied, and detested the error, declaring before him, in Dutch, her faith boldly, without any fear. So the Margrave hear- ing the same, in the end being well pleased with the profession, at the suit of some of her friends, delivered her out of prison, but took away her book, and so she came over into England again; having escaped the fire, but being afflicted with an incurable sick- ness, of which, as is said above, she afterwards died. THOMAS ROSE, A PREACHER. He was a Devonshire man, born in Exraouth, and being made priest in that country, was brought out of it by one Mr. Fabian, to Polsted, in Suffolk, where the said Mr. Fabian was parson, and in a short time after, by his means, was placed in the town of Hadley, where he, first coming to some knowledge of the gospel, began there to treat upon the creed, and thereupon took occasion to inveigh against purgatory, praying to saints and images, about the time that Mr. Latimer began to preach at Cambridge, in the time of Bil- nej' and Arthur; insomuch that many embracing the truth of Christ's gospel, against the said purgatory and other points, and the number of them daily increas- ing, the adversaries began to stir against him, insomuch that Mr. Bate, (who afterwards became a godly zealous man), was then brought to preach against the said Thomas Rose; notwithstanding this, he continued still very vehe- mently against images, and the Lord so blessed his labours, that many began to contrive how they might deface and destro}' them, and especially four men, whose names weie Ring, Debnam, Marsh, and Card, who usually re- sorted to his sermons, by which they were so inflamed, that soon after they ventured to destroy the rood of the court of Dover, which cost three of them their lives, and they were hanged in chains, be- cause they would not accuse Tho- mas Rose as their counsellor. The said Rof.e had the coat of the rood brought to him afterwards, who burnt it. The rood was said to have done many and great mi- 736 BOOK OF MARTYRS. racles, yet being lo the fire, could not help himself, but burned like a block, as indeed it was. At this time there were two sore enemies in Hadley, Walter Clerk and John Clerk, two brothers: these complained to the council, that an hundred men were not able to fetch Thomas Rose out of Hadley, who then was, upon exa- mination of his doctrine, commit- ted to the commissaries' keeping. And indeed such was the 2eal of a number towards the truth then in that town, that they were much of- fended that their minister was so taken from them, and had there- fore by force brought him from the commissary, if certain wise men had not otherwise persuaded them, who at length also with more quiet placed him in his office again: which so enraged the two brothers, Walter Clerk and John Clerk, that they complained to the coun- cil, as aforesaid; whereupon a Serjeant at arms was sent from the council, to arrest Thomas Rose, and bring him before them. Then his adversaries laid to his charge, that he was privy to the burning of the rood at Dover court, and upon this he was committed to prison, in the bishop of Lincoln's house, in Hoiborn, where he re- mained from Shrovetide to Whit- suntide, and great part of the time in the stocks. Then he was removed to Lam- beth, in the first year of Dr. Cran- mer's consecration, who used him much more courteously. He was next indicted at Bury, in Suffolk, which obliged him to flee to London, where, by the in- terest of lord Audley, then lord chancellor, he procured its re- moval, and, after examination, was set free, and obtained the king's li- cence to preach. After king Edward was crowned he was licenced to preach again by the king, who gave him the be- nefice of West-Ham, by London. But at this king's death he was deprived of all, and at length, through a Judas that betrayed him, he, with thirty-five taore, were taken in Bow church-yard, at a sheerman's house, on New- year's day at night, and commit- ted to prison, but he was taken to the bishop of Winchester, and committed to the Clink, till the Tuesday after, when he vras brought to the church of St, Mary Overy, and underwent the following examination : Rose. I wonder, my lord, that I should be thus troubled for that which by the word of God hath been established, and by tbe laws of this realm hath been allowed, and by your own writing so notably in your book, De vera obediential confirmed. Bish. of Win. Ah, sirrah, hast thou gotten that? Rose. As touching the doctrine of supremacy, against the bishop of Rome's authority, no man hath said further; and you confess that when this truth was revealed unto you, you thought the scales to fall from your eyes. Bishop. There is no such thing in my book: but I shall handle thee, and such as thou art, well enough. After this, the bishop turned his face to some that were by him. This is he, said the bishop, that my lord of Norwich told me had gotten his maid with child. Rose. This is no heresy, my lord, although it be a lie. Indeed certain wicked persons raised this report of me, for the hatred they bare to the doctrine which I preached: but for purgation of myself herein, I had no less than six of the council's hands, that there might be due and diligent examination of this matter in the country, by men of worship ap- pointed for that purpose, who can all testify, I thank God, that I am most clear from such wickedness, and indeed they have cleared me from it. Then the bishop com- manded that I should be carried to the Tower, and kept safely; where I lay till the week before THOMAS ROSE. Whitsuntide, when, after beinsf called twice to little purpose, I was couvcjcd from tlio Tower to Norwich, there to be examined by the bishop and his clergy, as con- cerning my faith. SECOND EXAMINATION OF THO- MAS ROSE. BEFORE THE BISHOP OF NOKWICH, 1563. 737 AND OTHERS, IN Alter I was presented by my keeper, the bishop immediately asked me what I was? I told him I had been a minister. Bishojj. Where were you madtf priest ? The cruel Racking of Cuthbeii Hiiiiison in the Toaer of London, A. D. 1,^.37 Rose. In Exeter, in the county where I was born. Then the bi- shop required of me my letters of orders. I told him I knew not where they were, for they were things of me not greatly regarded. Bishop. Well, you are sent to me to be examined; what say you, willyousubmityourself to the order of the church of England ? Rose. My lord, I trust I am not out of the order of Christ's church in England, neither do I know myself an offender there- against. Bishop. What? yes, you have here preached most damnable and devilish doctrine. FOX'S MARTYRS. Rose. Not so, my lord. TJie doctrine by me preached is grounded upon the word of God, set out by the authority of two most mighty kings, with the con- sent of all the nobility and clergy: so that I preached nothing but their la\Wul proceedings, having their lawful authority for confirm- ation of the same, for which my doing you cannot justly charge me. Chan. What sayest thou to the real presence in the sacrament?' Rose. 1 know right well you are made an instrument to seek innocent blood: well, you may begin when you Shall think rood", 4? BOOK OF MARTYRS. 738 for I have said nothing- but the truth, and that which then all men allowed for truth. Bishop. Well, father Rose, whatsoever hath been done in times past, shall not now be called in question. Wherefore, if you will be accounted for an English- man, you must submit yourself. Rose. My lord, I ;i!ii an Eng- lishman born, and do most humbly require of the Christian congrega- tion of England, to be counted as a particular member of the same, and with all due reverence submit inyself, as in the form and manner following: That whatsoever law or laws shall be set forth in the same, for the establishment of Christ's true religion, I do not only hold it, and believe it, but also most reverently obey it. At which the bishop seemed to be greatly re- joiced, and said. Well, then, we shall soon be at a point: but you shall take this for no day of exa- mination, but rather of communi- cation, so that you shall now de- part, and consider with yourself until we call for you again: and so ended this meeting. THIRD EXAMINATION OF THOMAS KOSE. On Friday following, I was called again into Christ-church within their lady's chapel, where was gathered a great part of the city of Norwich, when the bishop began with demanding of me, whe- ther, according to my former pro- mise, I would submit myself or no. I answered as before I had done, that according to my former protestation, I would most gladly obey. Chan. What say you then to ear-confession? Is it not neces- sary for the cliurch of England? Rose. Some ways it might be permitted, and some ways not, and that because it had not its original of God and his blessed word ; and yet I deny not, but that a man, being troubled in his conscience, and resorting to a discreet, sober, and christian learned man, for the quieting of his mind, might well be permitted. Mr. Chancellor then began to whet his teeth at me, saying, Yea, but you have preached, that the real, natural, and substantial pre- sence of Christ is not in the sacra- ment. What say you to that? Rose. Verily, I say, to satisfy you, that so I have here preached : although, contrary to law, you challenge me with the same, yet will I in nowise deny it, though justly I might do it. Bishop. Why, doth not Christ say, This is my body? And cap there be any plainer words spokenf? Rose. It is true, my lord, the words are as plain as can be ; and even so are these, where it is said, I am a door, a vine, and Chri^ called a stone, a lion, and yet is hp naturally none of these ; for they are all figurative speeches, as both the scriptures and fathers do suf- ficiently prove. And I added thajt Justin, who is one of the most anJ- cient writers that ever wrote upon the sacrament, writeth in his se- cond apology, that the bread, water, and wine in the sacrament, are not to be taken as other meats and drinks ; and 'yet they nourish our bodies. By which his meaning is evident, that the bread and wine remain still, or else they could not nourish our bodies. In the mean time, the bishop sent two of his chaplains to me, with whom I had communication about the real presence. After long reasoning concerning this point, at length I drove them to this issue; whether they did con- fess that Christ, in the self-same body which was conceived of the Virgin Mary, and wherein he suf- fered and rose again, do in the self- same body naturally, substantially, and really sit at the right hand of God the Father,without return from thence, until the day of the general judgment, or not? Whereunto they answered, Yes, truly, we confess it, hold it, and believe it. Then I again demanded of them, whether they did aflBrm, after the words pronounced by the minister, there to remain flesh, blood, bones, hairs, nails, as js wont most -grossly ;i f-DR. SANDS. 789 to be prenclied, or not? and they with g^reat deliberation answered, that they did not only abhor the teachins? of su<;li fi:;io.ss doctrine, but also would detest tliemsclvcs, if they should so think. At which two principal points, wherein they fully conlirmed my doctrine which I ever taug^ht, I was not a little comforted and re- joiced, but marvellously encou- raged. Whereupon I demanded of them again, what manner of body they then affirmed it to be in the sacrament? Forsooth, said they, not a visible body, for that is al- ways at the Father's right hand ; but in the sacrament it is invisible, and can neither be feit, seen, nor occupy any place, but is there by the omnipotency of God's holy word, they know not how. However, to bring them to con- fess that openly which they had granted privately, 1 granted them according to the scriptures, and my former protestation, a pre- sence, although not as they sup- posed. LAST EXAMINATION OF THOMAS ROSE. Now to come to my last appear- ance, the bishop forthwith de- manded of me, whether I were Resolved as he had heard say ? To whom I answered, that, as I al- ways had said before, even so I was now. I then said, that what- sover laws were set forth for the establishment of Christ's true reli- gion, according to the doctrine of Christ's holy apostles, and the faith- ful fathers of th« primitive church, i did not only obey them, but most earnestly believe them ; and all of you must confess, that the doctrine by me heretofore preached, had, besides the authority of God's eternal verity, the authority of two most noble princes, with the advice and council of all the nobility and elergy of the land, and that with great deliberation from time to time, with open disputations in both universities, enacted also by parliament, with the consent of the whole body and commons of the sanle, without any resistance or gainsaying. After several long private dis- putations had happened betwixt us, at length I have heard of them a contrary doctrine, which 1 never before had heard. He then re- capitulated what he stated in the third examination, of the dilemma into which the two chaplains had been drawn; and then adds, me- thoughtin this I had well discharg- ed at that time my conscience, in causing them, in open audience, to confess the same, and so I granted a presence, but not as they sup- posed : fOr I only said, that Christ, after the words pronounced, is pre- sent in the lawful use and right distribution of his holy supper; which thing I never denied, or any godly man that ever I heard of. And thus I ended; which the papists most maliciously and slan- derously named a recantation; which I never meant nor thought, as God knoweth. On the morrow, when the bis^Iiop was ready to ride forth in visitation, he called me before him, and per- ceiving that Sir William Wood- house did bear me great favour, s-aid, he was sorry for me and my expenses, and therefore wished that I was somewhere where I might spend no more money till his return. Why, my lord, said sir William Woodhouse, he shall have meat and drink and lodging with me, till you return again, see- ing you now brake up house. I was then conveyed to London, and from thence passed over the seas, where I lived till the death of queen Mary, and till it pleased God to bless this realm with the government of our noble queen. TROUBLES AND DELIVERANCE OT DR. SANDS, AFTERWARDSi ARCH- BISHOP OF YORK. ; ■ Dr. Sands was vicc-chaiMJellot of Cambridge at the time that tiie duke of Northumberland caiae hither, on king Edward's death, to proclaim lady Jane queen ; and, with others, being set for to sup with the duke, was required. tiX 740 BOOK OF MARTYRS. preach on the morrow. On taking his Bible into his hand, and shut- ting his eyes, he earnestly prayed to God that it might fall open where a most fit text should be for him to treat of. The Bible, as God would have it, fell open upon the first chapter of Joshua, the three last verses, where he found so con- Tenient a place of scripture for that lime, that the like he could not find in th^ whole Bible. His text was thus: "And they an- swered Joshua, saying, All that thou commandest us we will do, and whithersoever thou sendest us, we will go. According as we hearkened unto Moses in all things, so will we hearken unto thee : only the Lord thy God be with thee, as he was with Moses. Whosoever he be that doth rebel against thy commandment, and will not hearken unto thy words, in all that thou commandest him, he shall be be put to death : only be strong, and of good courage." Whosoever shall consider what was concluded by such as called themselves the state, and likewise the auditory, the time, and other circumstances, may easily see that this text most fitly served for the purpose. And as God gave the text, so gave he such order and utterance, as drew many tears out of the eyes of the greatest of them. In the time of his sermon, one of the guard lifted a mass-book and a grail up to him in the pulpit, which sir George Haward, with certain of the guard, had taken that night in Mr. Hurlestone's house, where lady Mary had been a little before, and there had mass. The duke, with the rest of the nobility, required Dr. Sands to put his ser- mon in writing, and appointed Mr. Leaver to go to London with it, and to put it in print. Dr. Sands required one day and a half for writing of it. At the time ap- pointed he had made it ready, and Mr. Leaver was ready booted to receive it at his hands, and carry it to London. As he was deliver- ing of it, one of the beadles, named Adams, came weeping to him, and prayed him to shift for himself, for the duke was retired, and queen Mary proclaimed. Dr. Sands was not troubled thereat, but gave the sermon written to Mr. Layfield. Mr. Leaver departed home, and he went to dinner to one Mr. More's, a beadle, his great friend. At the dinner Mrs. More seeing him merry and pleasant (for he had ever a man's courage, and could not be terrified), drank unto him, saying. Master Vice-chancellor, I drink unto you, for this is the last time that I shall see you. And so it was ; for she was dead before Dr. Sands returned out of Germany. The duke that night retired to Cam- bridge, and sent for Dr. Sands to go with him to the market-place to proclaim queen Mary. The duke cast up his cap with others ; but the tears ran down his cheeks with grief. He told Dr. Sands, that queen Mary was a merciful woman, and that he doubted not thereof; declaring that he had sent unto her to know her pleasure, and looked for a general pardon. Dr. Sands answered, My life is not dear unto me, neither have I done or said any thing that urgeth my conscience. For that which I spake of the state, I have instruc- tions warranted by the subscrip- tion of sixteen counsellors, neither can speech be treason ; neither yet have I spoken further than the word of God and the laws of the realm do warrant me, come of me what God will. But be you as- sured you shall never escape deatV; for if she should save you, those that now shall rule will kill you. The night the guard apprehend- ed the duke ; and certain grooms of the stable were as busy with Dr. Sands, as if they would take a prisoner. But sir John Gates, who lay then in Dr. Sands's house, sharply rebuked them, and drove them away. Dr. Sands, by the advice of sir John Gates, walked in the fields. In the mean time, the university, contrary to all or- DR. SANDS. 741 tier, had met togetlier in consult- ation, and ordered that Dr. Moase and Dr. Hartchcr should repair to Dr. Sands's lodging, and bring away the statute-book of the uni- versity, the keys, and such other things as were in his keeping; and so they did: for Dr. Mouse being an earnest protestant the day be- fore, and whom Dr. Sands had done much for, was now become a papist, and his great enemy. Cer- tain of the university had appoint- ed a congregation at afternoon. As the bell rang to it, Dr. Sands came out of the fields, and sending for the beadles, asked what the matter meant, and required them to wait upon him to the schools, according to their duty. So they did. And as soon as Dr. Sands, the beadles going before him, came into the regent house and took his chair, one Mr. Mitch, with a rab- ble of unlearned papists, went into a by-school, and conspired toge- ther to pull him out of his chair, and to use violence unto him. Dr. Sands began his oration, expostu- lating with the university, charging them with great ingratitude, de- claring, that he had said nothing in his sermon but what he was ready to justify, and their case was all one with him : for they had not only concealed, but consented to, that which he had spoken. And thus while he remembered them how beneficial he had been to the university, and their un- thankfulness to him again, in came Mr. Mitch with his conspirators, about twenty in number. One laid hands on the chair to pull it from him; another told him, that that was not his place, and another called him traitor. Where- at he perceiving how they used violence, and being of great cou- rage, groped to his dagger, and had dispatched some of them as God's enemies, if Dr. Bill and Dr. Blith had not fallen upon him, and prayed for God's sake to hold his hands and be quiet, and patiently to bear that great offered wrong. He was persuaded by them, and after that tumult was ceased, he ended his oration ; and bavins' some money of the university's in his hands, he there delivered the same every farthing. He gave up the books, reckonings, and keys pertaining to the university, and withal yielded up his oftice, pray- ing God to give the university a better officer, and to give them better and more thankful hearts, and so repaired home to his own college. On the morrow after there came unto him one Mr. Gerningham, and Mr. Thomas Mildmay. Ger- ningham told him, that it was the queen's pleasure, that two of the guard should attend upon him, and that he must be carried pri- soner to the Tower of London with the duke. Mr. Mildmay said, he marvelled that a learned man would speak so unadvisedly against so good a prince, and wilfully run into such danger. Dr. Sands an- swered, I shall not be ashamed of bonds; but if I could do as Mr. Mildmay can, I needed not to fear bonds: for he came down in pay- ment against queen Mary, and armed in the field, and now he re- turned in payment for queen Mary ; before a traitor, and now a great friend ; I cannot with 'one mouth blow hot and cold after this man- ner. Upon this his stable was robbed of four very good geldings ; the best of them Mr. Huddlestone took for his own saddle, and rode on him to London in his sight. An inventory was taken of all his goods by Mr. More, beadle for the university. He was set upon a lame horse that halted to the ground ; which thing a friend of his perceiving, prayed that Ite might lend him a nag. The yeo- men of the guard consented. As he departed forth at the town's end, some papists resorted thither to jeer at him, and some of his friends to mourn for him. He came in the rank to London, the people being full of outcries ; and as he came in at Bishopsgate, one like a milk-woman hurled a stone at liim, and bit him on the breast. 743 BOOK OF MARTYRS. with sucli a bIo\y, that he was like to fall olV liJs horse ; to whom he mildly said. Woman, God forgive it thee. Truth is, that that journey and evil entreatinj? so mortified him, that he was more ready to die than to live. As he came through Tower-hill, one woman standing at her door, cried, Fie on thee, thou knave thou traitor, thou heretic ! Where- at he smiled. Look, the desperate heretic! saidshe,andlaug4ied at this jeer. A woman on the other side of the street answered, saying, Fie on thee, neighbour, thou art not worthy to be called a woman, rail- ing upon this gentleman whom thou knowest not, nor the cause why he is thus treated. Then she said. Good gentleman, God be thy comfort, and give thee strength to stand in God's cause, even to the end. And thus he passed through rough and smooth to the Tower, the first prisoner that entered in that day, which was St James's day. The yeoman of the guard took from him his borrowed nag, and what else soever he had. His man, one Quinting Suainton, brought after him a Bible, and some" shirts, and such like things. The Bible was sent in to him, but the shirts and such like served the yeoman of the guard. After he had been in the Tower three weeks in a bad prison, he was brought up into Nun's-Bower, a better prison, where was put along with him Mr. John Brad- ford. At the day of queen Mary s co- ronation their prison door was set open, ever shut before. One Mr. Mitchell, his old acquaintance, who had been prisoner before in the same place, came into him, and said. Master Sands, there is such a stir in the Tower, that neither gates, doors, nor prisoners, are looked to tins day. Take my cloak, my hat, and ray rapier, and get you gone ; y®u may go out of tlie gates without questioning; save yourself, and let me do as well as I can. A rare friendship ! but he refused the oifer, saying, I know no cause why 1 should be in prison ; and to do thus were to make myself guilty. I will expect God's good will, yet must 1 think myself much obliged to you: and so j\Ir Mitchell departed. While Dr. Sands and Mr. Brad- ford were thus in close prison twenty-nine weeks, one John Bowler was their keeper, a very perverse papist, yet by often per- suading of him, for he would give ear, and by gentle using of him, at length he began to mislike popery, and to favour the gospel, and was so persuaded in true religion, that on a Sunday when they had mass in the chapel, he brought up a ser- vice book, a manchet*, and a glass of wine, and there Dr. Sands mi- nistered the communion to Brad- ford and to Bowler. Thus Bowler was their son begotten in bonds. When Wyat was in arras, and the old duke of Norfolk sent forth with a number of men to appre- hend him, that room might be made in the Tower for him and other his accomplices. Dr. Cran- mer. Dr. Ridley, and Mr. Brad- ford, were cast into one prison, and Dr. Sands with nine other preachers were sent unto the Mar- shalsea. The keeper of the Marshalsea appointed to every preacher a man to lead him in the street; he caused them to go far before, and he and Dr. Sands came behind, whom he would not lead, but walked fami- liarly with him. Yet Dr. Sands was known, and the people every where prayed to God to comfort him, and to strengthen him in the truth. By that time the people's minds were altered; popery be* gan to be unsavoury. After they passed the bridge, the keeper said to Dr. Sands, I perceive the vain people would set you forward to the fire. You are as vain as they, if you being a young man, will stand in your own conceit, and prefer your own judgment, before that of so many worthy prelates, ancient, learned, and grave men * A loaf.of I7 .r»f iluaWom, never was there, since the memory of our fathers, any example to be shewed, wherein the Lord's mighty power hath more admirably shewed itself, to the j^^lory of his own name, to the com- fort of all g;ood hearts, and to the public felicity of this whole realm, than in the miraculous escape oji' the lady Elizabeth in the time of queen Mary, her sister. In which story we first have to consider in what extreme misery, sickness, fear, and peril her hij^h- ness was; into what care, what trouble of mind, and what danger of death, she was brought: first, with great bands of armed men (and happy was he that might have the carrying of her), being fetched up as the greatest traitor in the world, clapped into the Tower, and again tossed from thence, and from house to house, from prison to prison, from post to pillar, at length also prisoner in her own house, and guarded with a set of cut-throats, who ever gaped for the spoil whereby, they might be lingering of some vhat. Secondly, we have to consider again, all this notwithstanding, how strangely, or rather miracu- lously, she was delivered from danger, what favour and grace she found with the Almighty, who, when all the help of man and hope of recovery was past, stretched out his mighty protection, and preserved her highness, and placed her in her princely seat of rest and quietness. In which story, if I should set forth at large all the particulars and circumstances thereunto be- longing, and as just occasion of the history requireth, beside the important length of tlie story dis- coursed, peradventure it might move otlence to some, and truth might get me hatred. Yet not- witlistanding I intend (by the grace of Christ) therein to use such bre- vity and moderation, as both may be to the glory of God, the dis- charge of the story, the profit to the reader, and hurt to none, sup- pressing the names of some, whom here although I cotild re^-ilc, yet 1 thought not to be more cruel in hurting their names, than the queen has been merciful in pardoning their lives. Therefore, now to enter into the discourse of this tragical matter, first here is to be noted, that (lueon Mary, when she was first queen, before she was crowned, would gc) no whither, but would have her by the hand, and send for her to din- ner and supper ; but after she was crowned, she never dined nor sup- ped with her, but kept her apart from her, &c. After this it hap- pened, immediately upon the rising of sir Thomas Wyat, that the lady Elizabeth and lord Courtney were charged with false suspicion of sir Thomas Wyat's rising. Where- upon queen Mary, whether for that surmise, or for what other cause I know not, being ofl'ended with the said lady Elizabeth, her sister, at that time lying in her house at Ashbridge, the next day after the rising of Wyat, sent to her three of her counsellors, to wit, sir Richard Southwell, sir Edward Hastings, then master of the horse, and sir Thomas Cornwallis, with their retinue and troop of horse- men, to the number of two hun- dred and fifty, who, at their sudden and unprovided coming, found her at the same time sick in her bed, and very feeble and weak of body. Whither when they came, ascend- ing up to her grace's chamber, they desired one of her ladies, whom they met, to declare to her grace, that there were divers come from the court who had a message from the queen. Her grace having knowledge thereof, was right glad of their coming ; however, being then very sick, and the night far spent (which was at ten o'clock), she re- quested them by the messenger, that thej' would resort thither in the morning. To this they an- swered, that they must needs see her, and would so do, in what case soever she were. Whereat the lady being surprised, went to shew her grace their words, but they 748 BOOK OF MARTYRS. hastily following her, came rushing as soon as she into her grace's chamber unbidden. At whose sudden coming into her bed-chamber, her grace, being greatly amazed, said unto them. Is the haste such that it might not ha\e pleased you to come to-mor- row in the morning? They made answer, that they were right sorry to see her in that case ; and I (said she) am not glad to see you here at this time of the night. Whereupon they answered, that they came from the queen to do their message and duty, which was to this effect, that the queen's pleasure was, that she should be at London the seventh day of that present month. Whereunto she said. Certainly no creature can be more glad than I to come to her majesty, being right sorry that I am not in case at this time to wait on her, as you yourselves do see, and can well testify. Indeed we see it true, said they, that you do say; for which we are very sorry, although we let you to understand, that our commis- sion is such, and so straiteneth us, that we must needs bring you with us, either alive or dead. Whereat she being amazed, sor- rowfully said, that their commis- sion was very sore : but yet not- withstanding she hoped it would be otherwise, and not so strait. Yes, verily, said they. Where- upon they calling for two physi- cians, Dr. Owen and Dr. Wendy, demanded of them whether she might be removed from thence with life, or no ? Whose answer and judgment was, that there was no impediment in their opinion to the contrary, but that she might travel without danger of life. In conclusion, they desired her to prepare against the next morn- ing, at nine o'clock,to go with them, declaring that they had brought with them the queen's litter for her. After much talk, the messen- gers declaring how there was no prolonging of times and days, de- parted to their chamber. The next morning, at the time prescribed, they had her forth as she was, very faint and feeble, and in such case that she was ready to swoon three or four times between them. Now to proceed in her journey from Ashbridge. Sick in the litter, she came to Redborne, where she was guarded all night ; from thence to St. Alban's, to sir Ralph Rowlet's house, where she tarried that night, both feeble in body, and comfortless in mind. From thence they passed to Mr. Dod's house at Mims, where they also remained that night ; and so from thence she came to Highgate, where she being very sick, tarried that night and the next day. During which time of her abode,there came many pursuivants and messengers from the court, but for what pur- pose I cannot tell. From that place she was con- veyed to the court, where by the way came to meet her many gen- tlemen to accompany her high- ness, who were very sorry to see her in that situation. But espe- cially a great multitude of people were standing by the way, who then flocked about her litter, la- menting and bewailing greatly her estate. Now when she came to the court, her grace was there shut up, and kept a close prisoner, a fortnight, which -was till Palm- Sunday, seeing neither king nor queen, nor lord, nor friend, all that time, but only the then lord chamberlain, sir John Gage, and the vice-chamberlain, which were attendant unto the doors. About which time sir William Sentlowe was called before the council. To whose charge was laid, that he knew of Wyat's rebellion, which he stoutly denied, protesting that that he was a true man both to God and his prince, defying all traitors and rebels ; but being straitly ex- amined, he was in conclusion com- mitted to the Tower. The Friday before Palm-Sun- day, the bishop of Winchester, with nineteen others of the coun- cil (who shall be here nameless). PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 74» came unto her grace from the queen's majesty, and burdened her with Wyat's conspiracy ; which she utterly denied, ailirming that she was altogether guiltless there- in. They being not contented with this, charged her grace with business made by sir Peter Carew, and the rest of the gentlemen of the west country: which also she utterly denying, clearing her inno- cency therein. In conclusion, after long debat- ing of matters, they declared unto her, that it was the queen's will and pleasure that she should go unto the Tower, while the matter were further tried and examined. Whereat she being amazed, said that she trusted the queen's majesty would be a more gracious lady unto her, and that her high- ness would not otherwise conceive of her but that she was a true wo- man ; declaring furthermore to the lords, that she was innocent in all those matters wherein they had burdened lier, and desired them therefore to be a further means to the queen her sister, that she being a true woman in thought, word, and deed, towards her ma- jesty, might not be committed to so notorious and doleful a place; protesting that she should request no favour at her hand, if she should be proved to have con- sented unto any such kind of mat- ter as they laid unto her charge, and therefore, in fine, desired their lordships to think of her what she was, and that she might not so extremely be dealt withal for her truth. Whereunto the lords answered again, that there was no remedy, for that the queen's majesty was fully determined that she should go unto the Tower. Wherewith the lords departed, with their caps hanging over their eyes. But not long after, within the space of an hour, or little more, came four of the aforesaid lords of the council, which were the lord treasurer, the bishop of Winchester, the lord steward, the earl of Sussex, with the guard ; who warding the next chamber to her, secluded all her gentlemen and yeomen, ladies and gentlewomen ; except that for one gentleman usher, three gentlewo- men, and two grooms of her cham- ber, were appointed in their rooms three other men of the queen's, and three waiting women, to give attendance likewise upon her, that none should have access to her grace. At which time there was an hundred northern soldiers in white coats, watching and warding about the gardens all that night, and a great fire being made in the midst of the hall, two certain lords were watching there also with their band and company. Upon Saturday following, two lords of the council (the one was the earl of Sussex, the other shall be nameless) came and certified her grace, that she must go forth- with unto the Tower, the barge being prepared for her, and the tide now ready, which tarrieth for nobody. In heavy mood her grace requested the lords that she might tarry anotlier tide, trusting that the next would be better and more comfortable. But one of the lords replied, that neither time nor tide was to be delayed. And when her grace requested him that she might be suffered to write to the queen's majesty, he answered, that he durst not per- mit that: adding, that in his judg- ment it would rather hurt than profit her grace in so doing. But the other lord, more cour- teous and favourable, (who was the earl of Sussex), kneeling down, told her grace, that she should have liberty to write, and as he was a true man, he would deliver it to the queen's highness, and bring an answer of the same, whatsoever came thereof. Where- upon she wrote, although she could in no case be suff'ered to speak with the queen, to her great discomfort, being no olfender against the queen's majesty. And thus the time and tide passed away for that season, they privily appointing all things ready ¥m BOOK OF MARtVRS. that slie Rhould go (he next tide, which fell about midnight: but for fear she should be taken by the way. they durst not. So they stayed till the next day, being Palm-Sunday, when about nine o'clock these two returned again, declaring that it was time for her grace to depart. She answered, if there be no remedy, I must be contented, willing the lords to go on before. Being come forth into the garden, she cast her eyes to- wards the window, thinking to see the queen, which she could not. Whereat she said, she marvelled much what the nobility of the realm meant, which in that sort would suffer her to be led into captivity, the Lord knew whither, for she did not. In the mean time commandment was given through- out London, that every one should keep the church, and carry their palms, while in the mean season she might be conveyed without any concourse of people to the Tower. After this, she took her barge, with the two aforesaid lords, three of the queen's gentlewomen, and three of her own, her gentleman usher and two of her grooms lying and hovering upon the water a certain space, for that they could not shoot the bridge, the barge- men being very unwilling to shoot the same so soon as they did, be- cause of the danger thereof: for the stern of the boat struck upon the ground, the fall was so great and the water was so shallow, that the boat being under the bridge, there stayed again awhile. At landing, she first stayed, and re- fused to land at those stairs, where all traitors and offenders custom- ably used to land; neither could she well, unless she should go over her shoes. The lords were gone out of the boat before, and asked why she came not. One of the lords went back again to her, and brought word she would not oome. Then said one of the lords, (who shall be nameless), that she should not choose ; and because it did then rain, he offered to her h\r( cloak, which she, putting it back with her hand with a good dash, refused. So she coming out, hav- ing one foot upon the stairs, said. Here landeth as true a subject, being prisoner, as ever landed at these stairs: and before thee, O God, I speak it, having no other friends but thee alone. To whom the same lord an- swered again, that if it Mere so, it was the better for her. At her landing there was a great multi- tude of their servants and warders standing in their order. What needed all this? said she. It is the use, said some, so to be when any prisoner came thither. And if it be, quoth she, for my cause, I beseech you that they may be dis- missed. Whereat the poor men kneeled down, and with one voice desired God to preserve her gi-ace. After this, passing a little fur- ther, she sat down upon a stone, and there rested herself. To whom the lieutenant then being said, Madam, you were best to come out of the rain, for you sit unwholsomely. She then reply- ing, answered again. It is better sitting here than in a worse place ; for God knoweth, I know not whi- ther you will bring me. With that her gentleman usher wept; she demanding of him what he meant by using her so uncomfort- ably, seeing she took him to be her comfort, and not to dismay her, especially for that she knew her truth to be such, that no man should have cause to weep for her. But forth she went into pri- son. The doors were locked and bolted upon her, which greatly discomforted and dismayed her grace. At which time she called to her gentlewoman for her book, desiring God not to suffer her to build her foundation upon the sands, but upon the rock, whereby all blasts of blustering -weather should have no power against her. The doors being thus locked, and she close shut up, the lords had great conference how to keep PRINCESS ELIZABETH. -tst ward ami watch, every man de- claring his own opinion iu that be- half, agreeing straitly and circum- spectly to keep her. Then one of them, which was the lord of Sussex, swearing, said. My lords, let us take heed, and do no more than our commission will bear us out in, whatsoever shall happen hereafter. And further, let us consider that she was the king our master's daughter; and therefore let us use such dealing, that we may answer it hereafter, if it shall so happen: for just deal- ing (quoth he) is always answer- able; whereunto the other lords agreed that it was well said of him, and thereupon departed. Being in the Tower, within two days commandment was, that she should have mass within her house. One Mr. Young was then her chaplain, and because there were none of her men so well learned to help the priest to say mass, the mass stayed for that day. It would make a pitiful and strange story here by the way to recite what examination and rack- ings of poor men there were to find out the knife that should cut her throat; what gaping among my lords of the clergy to see the day wherein they might wash their goodly white rochets in her inno- cent blood; but especially the bi- shop of Winchester, Stephen Gar- diner, then lord chancellor, who, within five days after, came unto her, with divers others of the council, and examined her of the talk that was at Ashbridge, be- tween her and sir James Acroft, concerning her removing from thence to Dunnington castle, re- quiring her to declare what she meant thereby. At the first, she being so sud- denly asked, did not well remem- ber any such house; but within a while, well advising herself, she S5ti«> Indeed I do now remember that I have such a place, but I ne- ver lay in it in all my life. And as for any that hath moved me thereunto, I do not remember. Then to enforce the tnatter, they brought forth sir James Acroft. The bishop of Winchester de- manded of her what she said to that man. She answered, tliat she had little to say to him, or to the rest that were then prisoners in the Tower: but, my lords, said she, you do examine every mean prisoner of me, wherein methinks you do me great injury. If they have done evil, and oHended the queen's majesty, let them answer to it accordingly. I beseech you, my lords, join not me in this sort with any of these offenders. And as concerning my going unto Dun- nington castle, I do remember that Mr. Hobby and mine officers, and you, sir James Acroft, had such talk; but what is that to the purpose, my lords, but that I may i!;o to mine own houses at all times' The lord of Arundel kneeling down, said. Your grace saith true, and certainly we are very sorry that we have troubled you about so vain matters. She then said. My lords, you do sift me very narrowly: but well I am assured, you shall not do more to me than God hath appointed; and so God forgive you all. At their departure, sir James Acroft kneeled down, declaring he was sorry to see the day in which he should be brought as a witness against her grace. But I assure your grace, said he, I have been marvellously tossed and examined touching your highness, which, the Lord knoweth, is very strange to me: for I take God to record, be- fore all your honours, I do not know any thing of that crime that you have laid to my charge, and will thereupon take my death, if I should be driven to so strict a trial. That day, or thereabouts, divers of her own officers, who had made provision for her diet, brought the same to the outer gate of the Tower, the common soldiers re- ceiving it; which was no small grief unto the gentlemen, the bring- ers thereof. Wherefore they de- sired to speak with the lord cham- 732 BOOK OF MARTYRS. berlain, who was then constable of the Tower. On coming into his presence, thej declared unto his lordship, that they were much afraid to bring her grace's diet, and to deliver it to such common and desperate persons as those who received it, beseeching his honour to consider her grace, and to give such order, that her viands might at all times be brought in by them, who had been appointed for that purpose. Yea, sirs, said he, who appointed you this office? They answered, her grace's coun- cil. Council! said he: there is none of them which hath to do either in that case, or any thing else within this place ; and I as- sure you, for that she is a pri- soner, she shall be served by the lieutenant's men, as other the pri- soners are. One of the gentlemen on this told him, that they trusted for more favour from his hands, ■considering her peiiiionage: and added, that they imagined the •queen and her council would be better to her grace than so; and shewed themselves to be offended at the ungracious words of the lord chamberlain respecting their lady and mistress. On this he swore by God, strik- ing himself upon the breast, that if they did either frown or shrug at him, he would set them where they should see neither sun nor moon. Thus taking their leave, they desired God to bring him into a better mind towards her grace, and departed from him. Upon which occasion, her grace's officers made great suit unto the queen's council, that some proper persons might be ap- pointed to bring her grace's diet unto her, and that it might no more be delivered by the common soldiers of the Tower: which being reasonably considered, was by them permitted; and one of her gentlemen, her clerk of the kitchen, and her two purvey orSj were appointed to bring in her provision once a day : the warders, however, continued to wait upon tkem on these occasions. The lord chamberlain himself being always with them, circum- spectly and narrowly watched and searched what they brought, and took care that they should have no talk with any of her grace's wait- ing servants, and so guarded them both in and out. At the said suit of her officers, were sent, by the commandment of the council, to wait upon her grace, two yeomen of her chamber, one of her robes, two of her pantry and ewry, one of her buttery, another of her cel- lar, two of her kitchen, and one of her larder, all which continued with her the time of her trouble. Here the constable, being at the first not very well pleased with the coming in of such a company against his will, would have had his men still to have served with her grace's men; which her ser- vants would by no means suffer, desiring his lordship to be con- tented, for that orders were given, that no stranger should eome within their offices. At which an- swer being sore displeased, he broke out into these threatening words, Well, I will handle you well enough! Then he went into the kitchen, and there would needs have his meat roasted with her grace's, and said, that his cook should come thither and dress it. To that her grace's cook answered, My lord, I will never suller any stranger to come about her diet, but her own sworn men, as long as I live. He said they should. But the cook said, his lordship should pardon him for that niatter. Thus did he trouble her poor servants grievously; though afterward he Mas otherwise advised, and they were more courteously used at his hands. And good cause why ; for he had good cheer, and fared of the best, and her grace paid well for it. Wherefore he used himself afterward more reverently toward her grace. Having been a whole month there in close prison, and being on that account uneasy, she sent for the lord chamberlain and tht* lord Chandois to come and speak with PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 753 her. \VIi<;n tliey were conic, slie requested tlicm tliat slic niio^Iit have liberty to walk in some place, for tliat she felt herself not well. To which they answered, that they were right sorry that they could not satisfy her grace's request, for that they had commandment to the contrary, which they durst not in anywise break. She then desired of them, if that could not be granted, that she might but walk into the queen's lodging. No, nor yet that, they answered, could by any means be obtained without a fur- ther suit to the queen and her council. Well, said she, my lords, if the matter be so har;uled, she re- maining iti her old dungeon still, without any kind of comfort but only God. Tyrrell bimiing Roie Allen's hand, ichilc feichiiin; drbtk for lier sick ^lolher The next day lord Chandois came unto her grace, declaring unto her that he had applied to the council for further liberty. Some of them consented there- unto, divers others dissented, for that there were so many prisoners in the Tower. But, ivi conclusion, they did all agree that her grace might walk into those lodgings, so that he, and the lord-chamberlain, and three of the queen's gentlewo- men, did accompany her, the win- K)X'S MAKTVHS. dows being shut, and she not suf- fered to look out at any of them: wherewith she contented herself, and gave him thanks for his good- will in that behalf. Afterwards there was liberty granted to her grace to walk in a little garden, the doors and gates being shut up, M'hich was as much discomfort to her, as the walk in the garden was pleasant and ac- ceptable. At which times of her walking there, the prisoners on 48 7flf4 BOOK OF MARTYRS. that side were strictly commanded not to .speak or look out of the windows into the garden, till her grace was gone out again, having their keepers waiting upon them for that time. Thus her grace wilh this small liberty contented herself in God, to whom be praise therefore. During this time, there used a little boy, a man's child in the Tower, to resort to their chambers, and many times to bring her grace flowers; which he likewise did to the other prisoners confined there. Whereupon some evil and suspi- cious persons, thinking to make something out of this, on a time called the child unto them, pro- mising him figs and apples, and asking him when he had been with the earl of Devonshire, not igno- rant of the child's often visiting him. The boy answered, that he would go by and by thither. Fur- ther, they demanded of him, when he was with the lady Elizabeth's grace. He answered, every day. Then they asked him what the lord of Devonshire sent by him to her grace. The child said, I will go know what he will give to carry to her. Such was the discretion of the child, though only four years of age. This same is a crafty boy, said the lord-chamberlain. How say you, my lord Chandois? I pray you, my lord, said the boy, give me the figs you promised me. No, marry, answered he, thou shalt be whipped if thou come any more to the lady Elizab*^th, or the lord Courtney. The boy an- swered, I will bring my lady my mistress more flowers. Where- upon the child's father was com- manded to permit the boy to come no more up into their chambers. The next day, as her grace was walking in the garden, the child peeping in at a hole in hhe door, called unto her, Mistress, I can bring you no more flowers. At which she smiled, but said no- thing, understanding thereby what they had done. Wherefore the chamberlain highly rebuked his father afterwards, and commanded him to put the child out of the house. Alas, poor infant ! said the father. It is a crafty knave, said the lord-chamberlain; let me see him here no more. The fifth day of May, the con- stable of the Tower was discharged from his office, and one sir Henry Benifield placed in his room, a man unknown to her grace, and there- fore the more feared ; which sud- den alteration occasioned her no small surprise. He brought with him an hundred soldiers in blue coats, wherewith she was mar- vellously discomforted, and de- manded of such as were about her, whether the lady Jane's scaffold were taken away or not, fearing, by reason of their coming, lest she should have played her part. To whom answer was made, that the scaffold was taken away, and that she need not be apprehensive of any such tyranny ; for God would not suffer any such treason against her person. Wherewith being con- tented, but not altogether satisfied, she asked what sir Henry Beni- field was, and whether he was of that conscience, or no, that if her murdering were secretly committed to his charge he would see the ex- ecution thereof. She was answered, that they were ignorant what manner of man he was. However they persuaded her that God would not suffer such wickedness to proceed. Well, quoth she, God grant it be so. For thou, O God, canst mollify all such tyrannous hearts, and disappoint all such cruel purposes ; and I beseech thee to hear me thy crea- ture, who am thy servant, and at thy commandment, trusting by the grace ever so to remain. About which time it was spread abroad, that her grace should be carried from thence by this new jolly captain and his soldiers ; but whither it could not be learned. Which was unto her a great grief, especially for that such a company was appointed for her guard, re- questing rather to continue there still, than to be led thence by such a set of rascals. At last, plain PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 755 answei* was made by the lord Cfaandois, that there was no re- medy, but from thence she must needvS depart to the manor of Wood- stock, as he tliought. Being de- manded by her, for what cause ? For that, quoth he, the Tower is like further to be furnished. She being desirous to know what he meant thereby, demanded where- with. He answered, with such matter as the queen and council were determined in that behalf, whereof he had no knowledge ; and so departed. In conclusion, on Trinity Sun- day, being the nineteenth day of May, she was removed from the Tower, the lord treasurer being there for the lading of her carts, and discharging the place of the same, where sir Henry Benifield (being appointed her jailor) receiv- ed her with a company of rakehells lo guard her, besides the lord of Derby's band, waiting in the coun- try about for the moon-shine in the water. Unto whom at length came my lord of Tame, joined in com- mission with the said sir Henry, for the safe guiding of her to prison ; and they together conveyed her grace to Woodstock, as hereafter followeth. The first day they conducted her to Richmond, where she continued all night, being deprived of her own men, which were lodged in out-chambers, and sir Henry Beni- field's soldiers were appointed in their rooms to give attendance on her person. Whereat she being marvellously dismayed, thinking verily some secret mischief to be working towards her, called her gentleman usher, and desired him with the rest of his company to pray for her ; for this night, said she, I think to die. Wherewith he being struck to the heart, said, God forbid that any such wicked- ness should be intended against your grace. So comforting her as well as he could, at last he burst out into tears, and went from her down into the court, where were walking the lord of Tame,^ and sir Henry Benifield. Then lie coming to the lord of Tame (who had proffered him much friendship) desired to speak a word or two with him. Unto whom he familiarly said, ho would with all his heart. Which when .sir Henry, standing by, heard, he asked what the matter was. To whom the gentleman usher an- swered. No great matter, sir, but to speak with my lord a word or two. Then when the lord of Tame came to liim, he spake on this wise. My lord, quoth he, you have been always my good lord, and so I be- seech you to remain. The cause why I come to you at this time, is to desire your honour unfeignedly to declare unto me whether any danger is meant towards my mis- tress this night, or not, that I and my poor fellows may take such part as shall please God to ap- point : for certainly we will rather die, than she should secretly and innocently miscarry. Marry, said the lord of Tame, God forbid that any such wicked purpose should be wrought ; and rather than it should be so, I with my men are ready to die at her feet also : and so (praised be God) they passed that doleful night, with uo little heaviness of heart. Afterwards passing over the water at Richmond, going towards Windsor, her grace espied certain of her poor servants standing On the other side, which were very desirous to see her. Whom whei* she beheld, turning to one of her men standing by, she said, Yonder I see certain of my men : go to them and say these words from me, Tanquam ovis, that is, Like a sheep to the slaughter. So she passing forward to Wind- sor, lodged that night in the dean of Windsor's house, a place more meet for a priest than a princess. And from thence her grace was guarded and brought the next night to Mr. Dormer's house, where much people standing by the way, some presented to her one gift, and some another, so that sir Henry was greatly moved 756 BOOK OF MARTYRS. therewitli, ami troubled tlie poor people very sore, for shewino- their loving hearts in such a manner, calling them rebels and traitors, with such like vile words- Besides, as she passed through the villages, the townsmen rang the bells, as being joyful of her coming, thinking indeed that it had been otherwise than it was, as the sequel proved after to the said poor men. For immediately the said sir Henry hearing the same, sent his soldiers thither, who apprehended some of the ringers, setting them in the stocks, and otherwise uncourteously mis- using some others for their good wills. On the morrow, her grace pass- ing from Mr. Dormer's (where was for the time of her abode there a strict watch kept), came to my lord of Tfime's house, where she lay all night, being very princely enter- tained both by knights and ladies, gentlemen and gentlewomen. Whereat sir Henry Benifield grumbled, and was highly ofl'ended, saying unto them, that they could not tell what they did, and were not able to answer their doings in that behalf, letting them to under- stand, that she was the queen's prisoner, and no otherwise ; ad- vising them therefore to take heed and beware of after-claps. Where- unto the lord of Tame answered in this wise ; That he was well ad- vised of his doings, being joined in commission as well as he, adding with warrant, that her grace might and should, while in his house, be merry. The next day, as she should take her journey from Richmond to- wards Woodstock, the lord of Tame with another gentleman be- in^ at tables, playing and dropping v\e crowns, the lady Elizabeth passing by, stayed, and said she would see the game played out, which sir Henry Benifield would scarce permit. The game running long about, and they playing drop vie crowns, Come on, saith he ; I will tarry, saith she, and will see this game out. After tliis, sir. Henry Benifield went up into a chamber, where was appointed for her grace a chair, two cushions, and a foot carpet, very fair and prince like, wherein presumptuously he sat, and called one Barwick, his man, to pull off his boots. Which as soon as it was known among the ladies and gentlemen, every one mused thereat, and laughed him to scorn, observing his indiscreet manners in that behalf, as they might very well. When supper was done, he call- ed my lord, and willed him that all the gentlemen and ladies should withdraw themselves every one to his lodging, marvelling much that he would permit there such a large company, considering the great charge he had committed to him. Sir Henry, quoth my lord, con- tent yourself, all shall be avoided, your men and all. Nay, my sol- diers, quoth sir Henry, shall watch all night. The lord of Tame an- swered. There is no need. Well, said he, need or need not, they shall so do, mistrusting perhaps the company, which God knoweth was without cause. The next day her grace took her journey from thence to Wood- stock, where she was inclosed, as before in the Tower of London, the soldiers guarding both within and without the walls, every day, to the number of sixty; and in the night without the walls forty, during the time of her imprison- ment there. At length she had gardens ap- pointed for her to walk in, which was very comfortable to her grace. But always when she recreated herself therein, the doors were fast locked up, in as strict a man- ner as they were in the Tower, be- ing at least five or six locks be- tween her lodging and her walks; sir Henry himself keeping the keys, and trusting no man there- with. Whereupon she called hini her jailor: and he kneeling down, desired her grace not to call hjm so, for he was appointed there tQ PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 757 he one of lier oflicers. From such officers (quoth she), good Lord, de- liver me. And now by the way, as digress- ing-; or rather rclreshing the reader, if it be lawful in so serious a story to recite a matter incident, and yet not impertinent to the same ; occasion here moveth, or rather inforccth me to touch briefly what happened in the same place and time, by a certain merry conceited man, being then about her grace : who observing the strict and strange keeping of his lady and mistress, by the said sir Henry Benifield, with so many locks and doors, with such a watch and guard about her, as was strange and wonderful, espied a goat in the ward where her grace was ; and whether to refresh her op- pressed mind, or to notify her strait handling by sir Henry, or else both, he took it upon his neck, and followed her grace there- with as she was going into her lodging. Which when she saw, she asked him what he would do with it, de- siring him to let it alone. The man answered. No, by St. Mary (if it please your grace), will I not ; tor I cannot tell, whether he be one of the queen's friends or not. I will carry him to sir Henry Benifield (God willing) to know what he is : so leaving her grace, he went with the goat on his neck, and carried it to sir Henrj': who when he saw him coming with it, asked him, half angerly, what he had there. Unto whom the man answered, saying, Sir, I cannot tell what he is. I pray you examine him, for I found him in the place where my lady's grace was walking, and what talk they have had 1 cannot tell. For I understand him not, but he should seem to me to be some stranger, and I think verily a Welchman, for he hath a white frieze coat on his back. And forso- much as I being the queen's sub- ject, and perceiving the strict charge committed to you, that no stranger should have access to her without suflicient licence, I have here found a stranger (what he is I cannot tell) in the place where her grace was walking ; and there- fore for the necessary discharge of; my duty, I thought it good to bring the said stranger to you, to exa- mine as you see cause; and so he set him down. At tliis sir Henry seemed much displeased, and said, Well, well, you will never leave this gear, I see; and so they departed. Now to return to the matter from whence we have digressed, after her grace had been there a time, she applied to the council for leave to write to the queen. Tliis at last was permitted : so sir Henry Benifield brought her pen, ink, and paper; and standing by her while she wrote (whicii he strictly ob- served), she being sometimes, weary, he would carry away hei letters, and bring them again whea she called for them. When she had finished, he would fain have been messenger to the queen with the same. Whose request her grace denied, saying, One of her own men should carry them, and that she would neither trust iiiui, nor any of his, with theuj. Then he answered again, saying. None of them durst be so bold (Ijc thought) as to carry Iier letters for her in her present situation. Yes, said she, I am assured 1 have none so drshonest as to deny my request in that behalf, but will be as willing to serve me now as before. Well, said he, my commission is to the contrarj^, and T may not so sufi'er it. Her grace replying again, said. You charge me very often witli your comission. I pray God you may justly answer the cruel deal- ings you use towards me. Then he kneeling down, desired her grace to think and consider how he was a servant, and put in trust there by the queen to serve her majesty ; protesting, that if the case were hers, he would as will- ingly serve her grace, as now he did the queen's highness. For which answer her grace thanked him, desiring God that she might 758 BOOK OF MARTYRS. neter have need of such servants as he was; declaring further to him, that his doino:s towards her were not good nor answerable, but more than all the friends he had would stand by. To whom sir Henry replied, and said, that there was no remedy but his doings must be answered, and so they should, trusting to make good account thereof. The cause which moved her grace so to say, was, for that he would not permit her letters to be carried four or five days after the writing thereof. But, in line, he was content to send for her gentleman from the town of Woodstock, demanding of him whether he durst enterprise the carriage of her grace's letters to the queen, or no : and he answered. Yea, sir, that I dare, and will with all my heart. Whereupon sir Henry, half against his stomach, took them unto him. Then about the eighth of June came down Dr. Owen and Dr. Wendy, sent by the queen to her grace, for that she was sickly ; who ministering to her, and letting her blood, tarried there, and at- tended on her grace five or six days. Then she being well amend- ed, they returned again to the court, making their good report to the queen and council of her grace's behaviour and humility to- wards tlie queen's highness. Which her majesty hearing, to*»k very thankfully ; but the bishops repined thereat, looked black in the mouth, and told the queen, they marvelled much that she sub- mitted not herself to her majesty's mercy, considering that she had offended her highness. About this time, her grace was requested by a secret friend to submit herself to the queen's ma- jesty, which would be well taken, and to her great quiet and advan- tage. Unto whom she answered, that she would never submit her- self to them whom she never of- fended. For (quoth she) if I have offended and am guilty, I then crave no mercy, but the law, which J am certain I should have had be- fore this, if it could be proved b.t me. For I know myself (I thank God) to be out of the danger thereof, wishing that I were as clear out of the peril of my enemies ; and then I am assured I should not be so locked and bolted wp within walls and doors as I am. God give them a better mind when it pleaseth him. About this lime there was a great consultation among the bishops and gentlemen, touching the mar- riage of her grace, which some of the Spaniards wished to be with some stranger, that she might go out of the realm with her portion ; some saying one thing and some another. A lord (who shall be here name- less) being there, at last said. That the king should never have any quiet common-wealth in England, unless her head was severed from her shoulders. Whereunto the Spa- niards answered, saying, God for- bid that their king and master should have that mind to consent to such a mischief. This was the courteous answer of the Spaniards to the English- men, speaking after that sort against their own country. From that day the Spaniards never left oft" their good persuasions to the king, that the like honour he should never obtain, as he should in deli- vering the lady Elizabeth's grace out of prison ; whereby at length she was happily released from the same. Here is a plain and evident example of the good clemency and nature of the king and his coun- sellors toward her grace (praised be God therefore), who moved their hearts therein. Then here- upon she was sent for shortly after to come to Hampton-Court. But before her removing away from Woodstock, we will stay a little to declare in what dangers her life was during the time she remained there : first through fire, which began to kindle between the boards and ceiling under the chamber where she lay, whether by a spark of fire getting accident- ally into a crevice, or whether for PRINCESS ELTZABETH. 759 the purpose by iiomo fliat, meant lier no good, the Lord doth know. Nevertheless a worshipful knight of Oxfordshire, which was there joined the same time with sir Henry Benifield in keeping that lady, (who then took up the boards and quenched the fire), verily sup- posed it to be done for the pur- pose. Furthermore it is thought and affirmed (for truth) of one Paul Penny, the keeper of Woodstock, a notorious ruffian, and a butcherly wretch, that he was appointed to assassinate the said lady Eliza- beth ; who both saw the man, being often in her sight, and also knew thereof. Another time, one of the privy chamber, a great man about the queen, and chief darling of Steplien Gardiner, named James Basset, came to Blandenbridge, a mile from Woodstock, with twenty or thirty privy coats, and sent for sir Henry Benifield to come and speak M'ith him. But as God would, who disposcth all things according to bis own will, so it happened, that a little before, the said sir Henry Benifield was sent for by post to the council, leaving strict word behind him with his brother, that no man, whosoever he were, though coming with a note of the queen's liand. or any other warrant, should have access to her before his return again. By reason whereof it so fell out, that Mr. Benifield's brother, coming to him at the bridge, would suffer him in no case to come iu, who other- wise (as is supposed) was ap- pointed violently to murder the innocent lady. There moreover is to be noted, that during the imprisonment of this lady and princess, one Mr. Edmund Tremaine was on the rack, and Mr. Smithwike, and others in the Tower, were examin- ed, and divers offers made to them to accuse the guiltless lady, being in her captivity. Howbeit, all that notwithstanding, no matter could be proved by all examinations, as she the .qarae time lying at Wood- stock had certain intelligencf' by tlie means of one .Tohn (Jayor ; who under a colourable pretence of a letter to Mrs. Cleve from her father, was let in, and so gave them secretly to understand of all this matter. Whereupon the lady Elizabeth, at her departing out from Woodstock, wrote these lines with her diamond in a glass window ; Much susperterl by me ; Nothing proved can be. Quoth Elizabeth, Prisoner. And thus much touching the troubles of lady Elizabeth at Woodstock. Whereunto this is more to be added, that during the same time, the lord of Tame had laboured to the queen, and became surety for her, to have her from Woodstock to his house, and had obtained a grant thereof. There- upon preparation was made ac- cordingly, and all things ready in expectation of her coming. But through the procurement either of Mr. Beniheld, or by the advice of Winchester her mortal enemj', letters came overnight to the con- trary ; whereby her journey was stopped. Thus this worthy lady, oppressed with continual sorrow, could not be permitted to have recourse to any friends she had, but still in the hands of her enemies was left desolate, and utterly destitute of all that might refresh a doleful heart, fraught full of terror and thraldom. Whereupon no marvel if she hearing upon a time, out of her garden at Woodstock, a certain milkmaid singing pleasantly, wished herself to be a milkmaid as she was, saying (hat her case was better, and life more merry than hers, in that state as she was. Now after these things thus de- clared, to proceed further there where we left before, sir Henry Benifield and his soldiers, with the lord of Tame, and sir Ralph Chara- berline, guarding and waiting upon her, the first night from Wood- stock she came to Ricot. In which journey such a mighty wind did blow, that her hood was twice 760 BOOK OF MARTYRS. or thrirc blown from her head. Thereupon she desiring to return to a certain gentleman's house there near, could not be suflered by sir Henry Bcnifield so to do, but was constrained under an hedge to trim her head as well as she could. After this, the next day they journeyed to Mr. Dormer's, and so to Colbroke, where she lay all that night at the George, and by tiie way coming to Colbroke, certain of her grace's gentlemen and yeo- men met her, to the number of threescore, much to all their com- forts, who had not seen her grace for a long time before : notwith- standing they were commanded in t^e queen's name immediately to depart the town, to both theirs and her grace's no little heaviness, who could not be suffered once to speak with him. So that night all her men were taken from her, saving her gentleman-usher, three gentlewomen, two grooms, and one of her wardrobe, the soldiers watching and warding about the house, and she close shut up with- in her prison. The next day following, her grace entered Hampton-Court, and came into the prince's lodg- ing: the doors being shut upon her, and she guarded with soldiers as before, lay there a fortnight at least, before any had recourse unto her: at length came the lord Wil- liam Haward, who used her grace honourably. AVhereat she took much comfort, and requested him to be a means that she might speak with some of the council. To whom not long after came the bishop of Winchester, and the lord of Arundel, the lord of Shrewsbury, secretary Peter, who with great humility humbled them- selves to her grace. She again likewise saluting them, said, My lords, I am glad to see you : for methinks I have been kept a great while from you desolate and alone. Wherefore I would desire you to be a means to the king and queen, that I may be delivered from pri- son, wherein I have been kept a long time, as to you, my lords, is >vell kpowa. When she had spoken, Steplien Gardiner, the bishop of Winches- ter, kneeled down, and requested that she would submit herself to the queen's grace, and in so doing he had no doubt but that her ma- jesty would be good to her: she made answer. That rather than she Mould so do, she would lay in pri- son all the days of her life ; add- ing, that she craved no mercy at her majesty's hand, but rather de- sired the law, if ever she did of- fend her majesty in thought, word, or deed : and besides this, in yielding (quoth she) I should speak against myself, and confess myself to be an offender, which I never was toward her majesty, by occa- sion whereof the king and queen might ever hereafter conceive of me an evil opinion : and therefore I say, my lords, it were better for me to lie in prison for the truth, than to be abroad and suspected by my prince. And so they de- parted, promising to declare her message to the queen. On the next day the bishop of Winchester came again unto her grace, and kneeling down, declared that the queen marvelled that she should so stoutlj' use herself, not confessing that she had offended : so that it should seem that the queen's majesty had wrongfully imprisoned her grace. Nay, quoth the lady Elizabeth, it may please her to punish me as she thinketh good. Well, quoth Gardiner, her ma- jesty willeth me to tell you, that you must tell another tale before that you be set at liberty. Her grace ansv/ered, that she had as soon be in prison with ho- nesty and truth, as to be abroad, suspected by her majesty ; and this that I have said, I will stand unto, for I will never belie mj- self. Winchester again kneeled down, and said, Then your grace hath the advantage of me and other lords for your wrong and long im- prisonment. What advantage I have (quoth she) you know ; taking God to rcco|-d, I seek no advantage M PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 761 yarn hands for your so dealint. Peter's, in Gaunt, (who had in his cloister a prison and place of (Txccution), and the day the said William was called to the place o4 judgment, the provost sent for Mr. Giles Brackleman, principal advo- cate of the council of Flanders, and burgh-master and judge of St. Peter's, in Gaunt, with other rulers of the town, to sit in judg- ment upon him ; and as they sat in judgment, Mr. Giles Brackleman reasoned with the said William de Wever upon divers articles of his faith. One whereof was. Why he denied that it was law- ful to pray for saints ; and he an- swered, For three causes : the one Mas, That they were but creatures, and not the Creator. The second was. That if he should call upon them, the Lord did both see it and hear it ; and therefore he durst give the glory to none other but God. The third and chief cause was, That the Creator had command- ed in his holy word to call upon him in trouble, unto which com- mandment he durst neither add nor take from. He also demanded, whether he did not believe that there was a purgatory which he should go into after this life, where ;every one should be purified and cleansed. He answered, That he had read over the wliole Bible, and could find no such place, but the death of Christ was his purgatory : with many other questions, proceeding after their order, till he came to pronounce his condemnation. But before it was read, he was struck with a palsy, that his mouth was almost drawn up to his ear, and so he fell down, the rest of the lords standing before him, that the people might not see him : and the people were desired to depart. Then they took him up and car- ried him to his house, where he died the very next day. Yet not- withstanding all this, they burnt William de Wever within three hours after. About the orders of Suevia, in Germany, there was a monastery of Cistercian monks, founded in the days of pope Innocent the Sc-* JUDGMENT ON THE PERSECUTORS. 777 cond, by a noble baron, about the year 1 110. This cell, in process of time, was enlarged with more ample possessions, finding many jrreat and liberal benefactors con- tributing to the same ; as emperors, dukes, and rich barons. The earls of Montford had be- stowed upon it great privileges, upon this condition, that they should receive with free hospitality any strangers, either horsemen or footmen, for one night's lodging. But this hospitality did not long so continue, through a subtle and devilish device of one of the monks, who took upon him to play the part of the devil, rattling and raging in his chains, near the room where the strangers lay, in a frightful manner, in the night time, to terrify the guests ; by reason whereof no stranger nor traveller durst there abide ; and thus he continued for a long time. At length it happened, that one of the earls of Montford, a bene- factor to that abbey, coming to the monastery, was there lodged ; whea night came, and the earl at rest, the monk, after his wonted manner, began to play the devil. There was stamping, ramping, and spitting of fire, roaring, thunder- ing, bouncing of boards, and rat- tling of chains, enough to make a man stark mad. The earl hearing the sudden noise, and peradven- ture afraid at first, though he had not the art of conjuring, yet tak- ing a good heart, and running to iiis sword, he laid about him so well, and still followed the noise of the devil so close, that at last the jesting devil was slain by the earl in earnest. A LETTER, WRITTEN TO HENRY II. KING OF FRANCE. The following Letter, translated from a Work published in France, entitled, " Commentaries of the State of the Church and Public Weal," wili shew that the blind and besotted tyrant, Henry II. of France, wanted not warnings to dissuade him from a continuance in his cruel course of persecution ; but he was deaf to every sugges- tion of mercy or prudence, and pursued the same career till the Almighty vengeance visited him with a violent death, and snatched him from the midst of earthly pomp and pleasures, to that placo where there is " howling and gnashing of teeth." Consider, I pray you, sir, and you shall find that all your afflic- tions have come upon you, since you have set yourself against those who are called Lutherans. When you made the edict of Chasteaubriant, God sent you war ; but when you ceased the execution of your said edict, and as long as you were an enemy to the pope, and going into Almany for the defence of the Germans afflicted for religion, your affairs prospered as you would wish or desire. On the contrary, what hath be- come upon you since you were joined with the pope again, having received a sword from him for his own safeguard ? And who was it that caused you to break the truce? God hath turned in a moment your prosperities into such afflictions, that they touch not only the state of your own person, but of your kingdom also. To what end came the enter- prise of the duke of Guise in Italy, going about the service of the ene- my of God, and purposing, after his return, to destroy the vallies of Piedmont, to offer or sacrifice them to God for his victories ? The event hath well declared,' that God can turn upside down our councils and enterprises : as he overturned of late the enterprise of the constable of France at St. Quintin's, having vowed to God, that at his return he would go and destroy Geneva, when he had got- ten the victory. Have you not heard of L. Pon- chet, archbishop of Tours, who made application for the erection of a court called Chambre Ardent, 778 BOOK OF MARTYRS. wherein to condemn the protest- ants to the fire ; who afterwards was struck with a disease called tke fire of God, which began at his feet, and so ascended upward, that one member after another was obliged to be cut off, and so he miserably died without remedy? Also. one Castellanus, who hav- ing enriched himself by the gospel, and forsaking the pure doctrine thereof, to return unto his vomit again, went about to persecute the Christians at Orleans, and by the hand of God was stricken in his body with a disease unknown to the physicians, the one-half of his body burning as hot as fire, and the other as cold as ice ; and so most miserably lamenting and crying, ended his life. There are other infinite exam- ples of God's judgments worthy to be remembered ; as the death of the chancellor and legate du Prat, who was the first that opened to the parliament the knowledge of heresies, and gave out the first commissions to put the faithful to death, swearing and horribly blas- pheming God. When dead, his stomach was found pierced and gnawn asunder with worms. Also one named Claude de Asses, a counsellor in the said court, the same day that he gave his opinion and consent to burn a faithful Christian, (although it was not done indeed as he would have it), after he had dined, committed whoredom with a servant in the house, and even in the very action he was stricken with a disease called an apoplexy, whereof he immediately died. Peter Liset, chief president of the said court, and one of the au- thors of the aforesaid burning- chamber, was deposed from his office, for being known to be out of his wits and bereaved of his under- standing. Likewise John Andrew, book- binder to the palace, a spy for the president Liset, and of Uiuseard the king's solicitor, died in a fury and madness. The inquisitor John de Roma, in Provence, his flesh fell from him by piecemeal, so stinking that no man could come near him. Also John Minerius, of Pro- vence, who was the cause of the death of a prodigious great num- ber of men, women, and children, at Cabriers, and at Merindol, died with bleeding in the lower parts, the fire having taken his belly, blaspheming and despising God : besides many others whereof we might make recital, which were punished with the like kind of death. It may please your majesty to remember yourself, that you had no sooner determined to set upon us, but new troubles were moved by your enemies, with whom you could come to no agreement; which God would not sufler, forasmuch as your peace was grounded upon the persecution 'which you pre- tended against God's servants : as also your cardinals cannot sub- vert through their cruelty the course of tlije gospel, which hath taken such root in your realm, that if God should give you leave to destroy the professors thereof, you should be almost a king without subjects. Tertullian hath well said, that the blood of martyrs is the seed of the gospel. Wherefore, to take away all these evils coming of the riches of papists, which cause so much whoredom, sodomy, and in- cest, wherein they wallow like hogs, feeding their idle bellies, the best way were to put them from their lands and possessions, as the old sacrificing Levites were, according to the express command- ment which was given to Joshua. For as long as the commandment of God took place, and that they were void of ambition, the purity of religion remained whole and perfect ; but when they began to aspire to principalities, riches, and worldly honours, then began the abomination and desolation that Christ foretold. It was even so in the primitive JUDGMENT ON THE PERSECUTORS. 779 churcli, for it flourished and con- tinned in all pureness, as lon^^ as the ministers were of small wealth, and sought not their particular profit, but the glory of God. But since the pope began to be prince- like, and to usurp the dominion of the empire under the colour of a false donation of Constantine, they have turned the scriptures from their true sense, and have attri- buted the service to themselves, which we owe to God. Where- fore your majesty may seize with good right upon all the temporal- ities of the benifices, and that with a safe conscience to employ them to their true and right use. First, For the finding and main- taining of the faithful ministers of the word of God, for such livings shall be requisite for them, ac- cording as the case shall require. Secondly, For the entertainment of your justices that give you judg- ment. Thirdly, for the relieving of the poor, and maintenance of colleges to instruct the poor youth in that which they shall be most apt unto. And the rest, which is infinite, may remain for entertain- ment for your own estate and af- fairs, to the great easement of your poor people, which alone bear the burden, and possess in a manner nothing. In doing this, an infinite number of men, and even of your nobility, who live by the crucifix, would em- ploy themselves to your service and the common-wealth's so much the more diligently, as they see that you recompense none but those that have deserved; whereas now there is an infinite number of men in your kingdom, which oc- cupy the chief and greatest bene- fices, who never deserved any part of them. And thus much touch- ing the superfluous possessions of the pope's lordly clergy. Now proceeding further in this exhorta- tion to the king, thus the letter im- porteth. But when the papists see that they have not any reason to al- lege for themselves, they endea- '»our to make the Lutherans (as theycall us) odious to your majesty, and say, if their sayings take place, you shall be fain to remain a private person, and that tiiere is never a change of religion, but there is also a change of prince- dom. A thing as false as when they accuse us to be sacramenta- ries, and that we deny the autho- rity of magistrates, under the shadow of certain furious Anabap- tists, whom Satan hath raised in our time to darken the light of the gospel. For the histories of the emperors who have begun to re- ceive the Christian religion, and that which is come to pass in our time, shew the contrary. Was there ever prince more feared and obeyed than Constan- tine in receiving the Christian re- ligion? Was he therefore put from the empire ? No, he was there- by the more confirmed and estab- lished in the same, and also his posterity who ruled themselves by his providence. But such as have fallen away, and followed men's traditions, God hath destroyed, and their race is no more known in the earth, so much doth God de- test them that forsake him. And in our time the late kings of England and Germany, were they constrained in reproving su- perstitions, which the wickedness of the times had brought in, to forsake their kingdoms and prince- doms ? All men see the contrarj' j and what honour, fidelity, and obedience, the people in our time that have received the reformation of the church do under their princes and superiors. Yea, I may say, that the princes knew not before what it was to be obeyed, at that time when the rude and igno- rant people received so readily the dispensations of the pope, to drive out their own kings and na- tural lords. The true and only remedy, sir, is that you cause to be holden as holy and free council, where you should be chief, and not the pope and his, who ought but only to defend their causes by the holy scriptures ; that in the mean while you ma}' seek 780 BOOK OF MARTYRS. out men not corrupted, suspected, nor partial, whom you may charge to give report faithfully unto you of the true sense of the holy scrip- tures. And this done, after the example of the good kings, Josa- phat, Ezechias, and Josias, you shall take out of the church all idolatry, superstition, and abuse, which is founded directly contrary to the holy scriptures of the Old and New Testament, and by that means you shall guide your peo- ple in the true and pure service of God, not regarding in the mean time the cavilling pretences of the papists, who say that such ques- tions have been already answered at general councils : but it is known well enough, that no coun- cil hath been lawful since the popes have usurped the principal- ity and tyranny upon men's souls, but they have made them serve to their covetousness, ambition, and cruelty ; and the contrary which is among those councils, maketh enough for their disproof, besides a hundred thousand other absurd- ities against the word of God, which be in them. The true proof of such matters is in the true and holy scriptures, to which no times, Kor age, hath any prescription to be alleged against them; for by them we receive the councils founded upon the word of God, and also by the same we reject that doctrine which is repugnant. And if you do thus, sir, God will bless your^^enterprise ; he will increase and confirm your reign and empire, and your posterity. If otherwise, destruction is at your gate, and unhappy are the people which shall dwell under your obe- dience. There is no doubt but God will harden your heart as he did Pharaoh's, and take off the crown from your head, as he did to Jeroboam, Nadab, Baza, Achah, and to many other kings which have followed men's traditions, against the commandment of God, and give it to your enemies to triumph over you and your chil- dren. And if the emperor Antoninc the Meek, although he were a pagan and idolater seeing himself be- wrapt with so many wars, ceased the persecutions which were in his time against the Christians, and determined in the end to hear their causes and reasons, how much more ought you that bear the name of the most Christian king, to be careful and diligent to cease the persecutions against the poor Chris- tians, seeing they have not trou- bled nor do trouble in any wise the state of your kingdom, and your affairs ; considering also that the Jews be suffered through all Christendom, although they be mortal enemies of our Lord Jesu* Christ, whom we hold by common accord and consent for our God, Redeemer, and Saviour, and that until you have heard lawfully de- bated, and understand our reasons, taken out of the holy scriptures, and thatyour majesty have judged, if we be worthy of such punish- ments. For if we be not over- come by the word of God, the fires, the swords, and the cruellest torments, shall not make us afraid. These be exercises that God hath promised to his, which he foretold should come to pass in the last times, that they should not be trou- bled when such persecutions shall come upon them. THE STORY AND END OFTHE FRENCH KING. Whosoever was the author or authors of this letter above pre- fixed, herein thou seest (good reader) good counsel given to the king; if he had had the grace to receive and follow the same, no doubt but God's blessing working with him, he had not only set the realm in a blessed state from much disturbance, but also had continued himself in all tlourishing felicity of princely honour and dignity. But instead of that, he was so out- rageous against the protestants, that he threatened Anne du Bourg, one of the high court of parliament in Paris, that he would see him burn with his own eyes. But hovir he came short of his purpose, the JUDGMENT ON THE PERSECUTORS. 781 sequel of the story will make it appear, in the following manner. King Henry being in the parlia- ment-house, which was kept at the Friar Augustine's at Paris, because the palace was in preparing against the marriage of his daughter, and his sister, and having heard the opinion in religion of Anne du Bourg, counsellor in the law, a man eloquent and learned, he caused the said Anne du Bourg, and Loys du Faux, counsellors, to be taken prisoners by the constable of France, who apprehended them, and delivered them into the hands of count Montgomery, who carried them to prison. Against whom the king being full of wrath and anger, among other things, said to the said Anne du Bourg, These eyes of mine shall see thee burnt : and so on the 19th of June, com- mission was given to the judges to make their process. In the mean while, great feasts and banquets were preparing at court, for joy and gladness of the marriage that should be of the king's daughter and sister, against the last day of June save one. When the time was come, the king employed all the morning in ex- amining the presidents and coun- sellors of the said parliament against these prisoners, and other their companions that were charg- ed with the same doctrine ; which being done, they went to dinner. The king, after he had dined, for that he was one of the defendants at the tourney, which was solemnly made in St. Anthony's-street, near to the prison where the aforesaid prisoners were committed, entered into the lists ; and therein engag- ing, as the manner is, had broken many staves very valiantly, run- ning as well against the count of Montgomery, as divers others. Whereupon lie was highly com- mended by the spectators. And because he was thought to have done enough, they desired him to leave off" with praise ; but he being the more inflamed with the hearing of his praise, would needs ran another course; with Montgo- mery : who then refusing to ran against the king, and kneeling on his knees for pardon not to run ; the king being eagerly set com- manded him on his allegiance to run, and (as some affirm) he also put the staff in his hand, unto whose hand he had committed the aforesaid prisoners a little before. Montgomery being thus enforced, whether he would or no, to run against the king, prepared himself after the best manner to obey the king's commandment. Where- upon he and the king met together so fiercely, that in breaking their spears the king was struck with the counter blow, so right in one of his eyes, by reason that the visor of his helmet suddenly fell down at the same instant, that the splinters entered into his head ; so that the brains were touched, and thereupon so festered, that no re- medy could be found, although physicians and surgeons were sent from all parts of the realm, and also from Brabant, from king- Philip, bat nothing availed, so that the 11th day after, that is, the 10th of July, 1559, he miser- ably ended his life, having reigned 12 years, 3 months, and 10 days. DEATH OF HENRY III. KING OF FRANCE. A similarinstance of Divine justice may be seen in the death of Henry III. of France, a tyrant equally cruel and bigoted with the monarch whose end we have just related. A Friar, named Clement, of the order of St. Dominic, pretended he had matters of great conse- quence to impart to the king, and being admitted into his presence, upon his knees presented a letter to him, which he drew out of one sleeve; which whilst the king at- tentively read, the friar pulled forth a poisoned knife out of his other sleeve, wherewith he stabbed the king in the belly. The king finding himself wounded, snatched out the knife, and struck it into the friar's eye, who hastening away, the king cried out. His lords per- ceiving what the friar had done, slew him immediately. 782 BOOK OF MARTYRS. BOOK XI. A GENERAL ACCOUNT OF THE ATTEMPTS MADE BY THE PAPISTS TO OVER- TURN THE PROTESTANT GOVERNMENT OF ENGLAND, FROM THE AC- CESSION OF QUEEN ELIZABETH, TO THE KEIGN OF GEORGE II, SECTION I. THE SPANISH ARMADA. Philip, king of Spain, husband to the deceased queen Mary of England, was no less inimical than that princess to the protestants. He liad always disliked the Eng- lish, and, after her death, deter- mined, if possible, to crown that infamous cruelty -which had dis- graced the whole progress of her reign, by making a conquest of the island, and putting every protest- ant to death. The great warlike preparations made by this monarch, though the purpose was unknown, gave an universal alarm to the English nation ; as, though he had not de- clared that intention, yet it ap- peared evident that he was taking measures to seize the crown of England. Pope Sixtus V. not less ambitious than himself, and equally desirous of persecuting the protestants, urged him to the enterprise. He excommunicated the queen, and published a crusade against her, with the usual indul- gences. All the ports of Spain resounded with preparations for this alarming expedition ; and the Spaniards seemed to threaten the English with a total annihilation. Three whole years had been spent by Philip in making the ne- cessary preparations for this mighty undertaking ; and his fleet, which, on account of its prodigious strength, was called, *' The Invin- cible Armada," was now complet- ed. A consecrated banner was procured from the pope, and the gold of Peru was lavished on the occasion. A.n our historical writers relate the particulars of this important event, but a description by an ci/e- toitness must possess superior in- terest with the general reader, although it may be devoid of those graces of style which lend a charm to the narratives of the professed historian ; we therefore give " a brief Discourse of the great pre- parations of the Spaniards, in order to invade England, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth," ver- batim, as we find it in our author, by whom, however, it was not writ- ten, he having died in the preced- ing year, 1587. The duke of Parma, by command of the Spaniards, built ships in Flanders, and a great company of small broad vessels, each one able to transport thirty horses, with bridges fitted for them severally ; and hired mariners from the east part of Germany, and provided long pieces of wood sharpened at the end, and covered with iron, with hooks on one side ; and 20,000 vessels, with an huge num- ber of fagots ; and placed an army ready inJFIanders,ofl03 companies of foot, and 4000 horsemen. Among these 700 English vagabonds, who were held of all others in most contempt. Neither was Stanley respected or obeyed, who was set over the Engiish ; nor Westmore- land, nor any other who offered their help : but for their unfaith- fulness to their own country were shut out from all consultations, and as men unanimously rejected with detestation. And because pope Sixtus the Fifth in such a case would not be wanting, he sent SPANISH ARMAUA. 783 cardinal Allen into Flanders, and renewed the bulls declaratory of pope Pius the Fifth, and Gregory the Thirteenth. He excommuni- cated and deposed queen Eliza- beth, absolved her subjects from all allegiance, and, as if it had been against the Turks or infidels, he set forth in print a conceit, wherein he bestowed plenary in- dulgences, out of the treasure of the church, besides a million of gold, or ten hundred thousand ducats, to be distributed (the one half in hand, the rest when either England, or some famous haven therein, should be won) upon all them that would join their help against England. By which means the marquis of Burgau, of the house of Austria, the duke of Past- rana, Amadis duke of Savoy, Ves- pasian, Gonzaga, John Medicis, and divers otlier noblemen, were drawn into these wars. Queen Elizabeth, that she might not be surprised unawares, pre- pared as great a navy as she could, and with singular care and provi- dence made all things ready neces- sary for war. And she herself, who was ever most judicious in discerning of men's wits and apt- ness, and most happy in making choice, when she made it out of her own judgment, and not at the direction of others, designed the best and most serviceable to each several employment. Over the whole navy she appointed the lord admiral Charles Howard, in whom she reposed much trust ; and sent him to the west part of England, where captain Drake, who she made vice-admiral, joined with him. She commanded Henry Sei- mor, the second son to the duke of Somerset, to watch upon the Bclgic shore with forty English and Dutch ships, that the duke of Parma might not come out with his forces ; although some were of opinion, that the enemy was to be expected and set upon by land forces, according as it was upon deliberation resolved, in the time of Henry the Eighth, when the French brought a great navy on the English shore. For the land fight, there were placed on the south shore twenty thousand : and two armies besides were mustered of the choicest men for war. The one of these which consisted of 1000 horse, and twenty- two thousand foot, was commanded by the earl of Leicester, and en- caujped at Tilbury, on the side of the Thames. For the enemy was resolved first to set upon London. The other army was commanded by the lord Hunsdon, consisting of thirty-four thousand foot, and two thousand horse, to guard the queen. The lord Grey, sir Francis Knowles, sir John Norris, sir Richard Bingham, sir Roger Wil- liams, men famously known for military experience, were chosen to confer of the land fight. These commanders thought lit that all those places should be fortified, with men and ammunition, which were commodious to land in, either out of Spain or out of Flanders, as Milford-Haven, Falmouth, Ply- mouth, Portland, the Isle of Wight, Portsmouth, the open side of Kent called the Downs, the Thames' mouth, Harwich, Yar- mouth, Hull, &c. That trained soldiers through all the maritime provinces should meet upon warn- ing given, to defend the places, that they should, by their best means, hinder the enem^' from landing; and if they did happen to land, then they were to de- stroy the fruits of the country all about, and spoil every thing that might be of any use to the enemy, that so they might find no more victuals than what they brought with them. And that by continued alarms the enemy should find no rest day or night. But they should not try any battle, until divers captains were met together with their companies. That one cap^ tain might be named in every shire which might command, ' Two years before, the dtike of Parma considering- bow hard a 784 BOOK OF MARTYRS. matter it was to end the Belgic war, so lonjf as it was continually nourished and supported with aid from the queen, he moved for a treaty of peace, by the means of sir James Croft, one of the privy council, a man desirous of peace, and Andrew Loe, a Dutchman, and professed that the Spaniard had delegated authority to him for this purpose. But the queen fear- ing that the friendship betw een her and the confederate princes might be dissolved, and that so they might secretly be drawn to the Spaniard, she deferred that treaty for some time. But now, that the wars on both sides prepared might be turned away, she was content to treat of peace ; but so as still holding the weapons in her hand. For this purpose, in February, delegates were sent into Flanders, the earl of Derby, the lord Cob- ham, sir James Croft, doctor Dale, and doctor Rogers. These were received with all humanity on the duke's behalf, and a place ap- pointed for their treating, tliat they might see the authority de- legated to him by the Spanish king. He appointed the place near to Ostend, not in Ostend, which at that time was held by the English against the Spanish king. His authority delegated, he pro- mised then to shew, when they were once met together. He wished them to make good speed in the business, lest somewhat might fall out in the meantime which might trouble the motions of peace. Richardotus spoke some- what more plainly, That he knew not what in this interim should be done against England. Not long after, doctor Rogers was sent to the prince, by an ex- press commandment from the queen, to know the truth, whether the Spaniard had resolved to in- vade England, which he and Rich- ardotus seemed to signify. He affirmed, that he did not so much as think of the invasion of Eng- land, when he wished that the bu- siness miglit proceed with speed : and was in a manner offended with Richardotus, who denied that such words fell from him. The i2th of April, the count Aremberg, Champigny, Richard- otus, doctor Maesius, and Garnier, delegated from the prince of Par- ma, met with the English, and yielded to them the honour both in walking and sitting. And when they affirmed that the duke had full authority to treat of peace, the English moved, that first a truce might be made. Which they de- nied ; alleging that tliat thing- must needs be hurtful to tlie Spa- niards, who had for six months maintained a great army, which might not be dismissed upon a truce, but upon an absolute peace. The English urged, that a truce was promised before they came into Flanders. The Spaniard against that held, That six mouths since, a truce was promised : which they granted, but was not admitted. Neither was it in the queen's power to undertake a truce for Holland and Zealand, who daily attempted hostility. The English moved instantly, that the truce might be general for all the queen's territories, and for the kingdom of Scotland: but they would have it but for four Dutch towns which were in the queen's hands : and these only during the treating, and twenty days after ; and that in the meantime it might be lawful for the queen to invade Spain, or for the Spaniards to in- vade England, either from Spain or Flanders. At last, when the English could not obtain an arm- istice, and could by no means see the charter by which the duke of Parma was authorized to treat of peace ; they proposed these things, that the ancient leagues between the kings of England and the dukes of Burgundy might be renewed and confirmed ; that all tlie Dutch might fully enjoy their own privi- leges ; that with freedom of con- science they might serve God ; that the Spanish and foreign sol- diers might be put out of Holland, SPANISH ARMADA. 785 that neither the Dutch nor tlicir neighbouring nations uiight fear them. If these things might be granted, the queen would rorae to equal conditions concerning the towns which now ahe held (that all might know, that she took up arms not for lier own gain, but for the necessary defence both of herself and of the Dutch), so that the mo- ney which is owing therefore be repaid. To which they answered. That for renewing the old leagues there should be no difficulty, when lliey might have a friendly confer- ence of that thing. That concern- ing the privileges of the Dutch, there was no cau;ic why foreign princes should take care, wliich privileges were most favourably granted not only to provinces and towns reconciled, but even to such as by force of arms are brought into subjection. That foreign soldiers were held upon urgent necessity, since Holland, Eng- land, and France, were all in arms. Burning if John Badby, in Smithjield, in the Reign of Henry IV, Touching those towns taken from the king of Spain, and the repaying of the money, they an- swered, That the Spaniards might demand as many myriads of crowns to be from the queen re- paid them, as the Belgic war hath cost since the time that she hath favoured and protected the Dutch against them. At this time, doctor Dale, by the queen's command going to the FOX'S MARTYRS. duke of Parma, gently expostu- lated with him touching a book printed there, set out lately by cardinal Allen, wherein he exhorts the nobles and people of England and Ireland to join themselves to the king of Spain's forces, under the conduct of the prince of Par- ma, for the execution of the sen- tence of pope Sixtus V. against the queen, declared by his bull ; in which she is called a heretic, ille- 60 786 BOOK OF MARTYRS. gitimate, cruel against Mary queen of Scots, and her subjects were com- manded to help Parma against her: for at that time a greater number of those bulls and books were printed at Antwerp to be dispersed through England. The duke de- nied that he had seen such a bull or book, neither would he do any thing by the pope's authority ; as for his own king, him he must obey. Yet, he said, he so revered the queen and her princely virtues, that after the king of Spain, he otfered all service to her. That he had persuaded tlie king of Spam to yield to this treaty of peace, which is more profitable to Eng- land than Spain. . , , ^ To whom Dale replied, that our queen was sutiiciently furnished with forces to defend the kingdom. That a kingdom will not easily be gotten by the events of one battle, seeing the king of Spain in so long a war is not able to recover his ancient patrimony in the Ne- therlands. Well, quoth the duke, be it so, these things are in God's hands. After this the delegates con- tended among themselves by mu- tual replications, weaving and un- weaving the same web. The Eng- lish were earnest in this. That freedom of religion might be granted at least for two years to the confederate princes. They answered, That as the king of Spain had not entreated that for English Catholics, so they hoped the queen in her vnsdom would not entreat any thing of the king of Spain, which might stand against his honour, his oath, and his conscience. Then they demanded the money due from the states of Brabant; it was answered, that the money ■was lent without the king's knovv- ledo-e; but let the account be taken,' how much the money was, and how much the king- hath spent in these wars, and then it may ap- pear who should look for repay- ment. Thus the English were from time to time put off, until the Spanish fleet was come near the Eng-lish shore, and the noise of guns was heard from sea. Then had they leave to depart, and were by the delegates honourably brought to the borders of Calais. "The duke of Parma had in the mean- time brought all his forces to the sea-shore. Thus this conference came to nothing; undertaken by the queen, as the wiser then thought, to avert the Spanish fleet; conti- nued by the Spaniard that he might oppress the queen, being as he supposed unprovided, and not expecting the danger. So both of them tried to use time to their best advantages. In fine, the Spanish fleet, well furnished with men, ammunition, engines, and all warlike prepara- rations, the best, indeed, that ever was seen upon the ocean, called by the arrogant title. The Invin- cible Armada, consisted of 130 ships, wherein there were in all, 19,290. Mariners, 8,350. Chained rowers, 11,080. Great ordnance, 11,630. 'The chief commander was Perezius Gusmannus, duke of Medina Sidonia; and under him Joannes Martinus Ricaldus, a man of great experience in sea af- fairs. The 30th of May they loosed out of the river Tagus, and bending their course to the Groin, in Gal- licia, they were beaten and scat- tered by a tempest: three galleys, by the help of David Gwin, an English servant, and by perfidious- ness of Turks which rowed, were carried away into France. The fleet with much ado after some days came to the Groin and other harbours near adjoining. The re- port was, that the fleet was so shaken with this tempest, that the queen was persuaded, that she was not to expect that fleet this year. And sir Francis Walsing- ham, secretary, wrote to the lord admiral, that he might send back ft)ur of the greatest ships, as if the war had been ended. But the lord admiral did not easily give credit to that report; yet with a SPANISH ARMADA. 78r g'entle answer entreated him to be- lieve iiothiug hastily in so import- ant a matter: as also that he might be permitted to keep those ships with hira which he had, though it ■were upon his own charges. And getting a favourable wind, made sail towards Spain, to surprise the enemy's damaged ships in their harbours. When he was close in with the coast of Spain, the wind shifting, and he being charged to defend the English shore, fearing that the enemies might unseen by the same wind sail for England, he returned unto Plymouth. Now with the same wind, the 12th of July, the duke of Medina with his fleet departed from the Groin. And after a few days he sent Rodericus Telius into Flan- ders, to advertise tlie duke of Parma, giving him warning that the fleet was approaching, and therefore he was to make himself ready. For Medina's commission ■was to join himself with the ships and soldiers of Parma; and under the protection of his fleet, to bring them into England, and to land his forces upon the Thames side. The sixteenth day (saith the re- lator), there was a great calm, and a thick cloud was upon the sea till noon : then the north wind blowing roughly ; and again the west wind till midnight, and after that the cast; the Spanish navy was scat- tered, and hardly gathered toge- ther until they came within sight of England, the nineteenth day of July. Upon ■which day the lord admiral was certified by Flemming (who had been a pirate), that the Spanish fleet was entered into the English sea, which the mariners call the Channel, and was de- scried near to the Lizard. The lord admiral brought forth the English fleet into the sea, but not without great difficulty, by the skill, labour, and alacrity of the soldiers and mariners, every one labouring; yea, the lord admiral himself put iiis hand to this work. The next day the English fleet viewed the Spanish fleet comiAg along like towering castles in height, her front crooked like the fashion of the moon, the winge of the fleet were extended one from the other about seven miles, or as some say eight miles asunder, sailing with the labour of the winds, the ocean as it were groan- ing under it; their sail was but slow, and yet at full sail before the wind. The English were will- ing to let them hold on their course, and when they were passed by, got behind them, and so got to windward of them. Upon the 21st of July, the lord admiral of England sent a cutter before, called the Defiance, to de- nounce the battle by firing off pieces. And being himself in the Royal-Arch (the English admiral ship), he began the engagement with a ship which he took to be the Spanish admiral, but which was the ship of Alfonsus Leva. Upon that he expended much shot. Presently Drake, Hawkins, and Forbisher, came in upon the rear of the Spaniards, which Ri- caldus commanded. Upon these they thundered. Ricaldus endea- voured as much as in him lay, to keep his men to their quarters, but all in vain, until his ship, muoli beaten and battered with many shot, hardly recovered the fleet. Then the duke of Medina gathered together his scattered fleet, and setting more sail, held on his course. Indeed they could do no other, for the English had gotten the advantage of the wind, and their ships being much easier ma- naged, and ready with incredible celerity to come upon the enemy, ■with a full course, and then to tack and retack, and be on every side at their pleasure. After a long fight, and each of them had taken a trial of their courage, the lord admiral thought proper to continue the fight no longer, be- cause there were forty ships more, which were then absent, and at that very time were coming out of Plymouth Sound. The night following, the St. Ca- therine, a Spanish ship, being sadly torn in ^e battle, 'wa» taken into the midst of the fleet to be repa)r«d, He»e a grea$ Canta- 788 BOOK OF MARTYRS. brian ship, of Oquenda, wherein was the treasurer of the camp, by force of gunpowder took fire, yet it was quenched in time by the ships that came to help her. Of those which came to assist the fired ship, one was a galleon, com- manded by Petrus Waldez; the fore-yard of the galleon was caught in the rigging of another ship, and carried away. This was taken by Drake, who sent Waldez to Dart- mouth, and a great sum of money, \iz. 55,000 ducats, which he distri- buted among the soldiers. This Waldez coming' into Drake's pre- sence, kissed his band, and told him they had all resolved to die, if they had not been so happy as to fall into his hands, whom they knew to be noble. That night he was appointed to set forth a light, but neglected it; and some Ger- man merchant ships coming by that night, he, thinking them to be enemies, followed them so far, that the English fleet lay to all night, because they could see no light set forth. Neither did he nor the rest of the fleet find the admiral until the next evening. The admiral all the night preceed- ing with the Bear, and the Mary Rose, carefully followed the Spa- niards with watchfulness. The duke was busied in ordering his squadron. Alfonsus Leva was commanded to join the first and last divisions. Every ship had its proper station assigned, according to that prescribed form which was appointed in Spain; it was pre- sent death to aiiy who forsook his station. This done, he sent Gli- clius and Anceani to Parma, which might declare to them in what situation they were, and left that Cantabrian ship, of Oquenda, to the wind and sea, having taken out the money and mariners, and put them on board of other ships. Yet it seemed that he had not care for all: for that ship the same day with fifty mariners, and soldiers wounded, and half burned, fell into the hands of the English, and was carried to Weymouth. The 23d of the same month, the Spaniards having a favourable north wind tacked towards the English : but they being more ex* pert in the management of their ships, tacked likewise, and kept the advantage they had gained, keeping- the Spaniards to leeward, till at last the fight became gene- ral on both sides. They fought a while confusedly with variable success: whilst on the one side the English with great courage delivered the London ships which were enclosed about by the Spa- niards : and on the other side, the Spaniards by valour freed Rical- dus from the extreme danger he was in : great and many were the explosions which by the continual firing of great guns were heard this day. But the loss (by the good providence of God) fell upon the Spaniards, their ships being so high, that the shot went over our English ships ; and the Eng- lish, having such a fair mark at their large ships, never shot in vain. During this engagement, Cock, an Englishman, being sur- rounded by the Spanish ships, could not be recovered, but pe- rished; however, with great ho- nour he revenged himself. Thus a long time the English ships with great agility were sometimes upon the Spaniards, giving them the fire of one side, and then of the other, and presently were off again, and still kept the sea, to make themselves ready to come in again. Whereas the Spanish ships, being of great burden, were troubled and hindered, and stood to be the marks for the English shot. For all that the English ad- miral would not permit his people to board their ships, because they had such a number of soldiers on board, which he had not: their ships were many in number, and greater, and higher, that if they had come to grapple as some would have had it, the English being much lower than the Spa- nish ships, must needs have had the worst of them that fought from the higher ships. And if the Eng- lish had been overcome, the loss would have been greater than the victory could have been; for our SPANISH ARMADA. 789 beingf overcome would have put the kingdom in hazard. The 24th day of July, they gave over fighting on both sides. The admiral sent some small barks to the English shore, for a supply of provisions, and divided his whole fleet into four squadrons; the first whereof he took under his own command, the next was com- manded by Drake, the third by Hawkins, and the last by For- bisher. And he appointed out of every squadron certain little ships, which on divers sides might set upon the Spaniards in the night, but a sudden calm took them, so that expedient was without elfect. The 2oth, the St. Anne, a gal- leon of Portugal, not being able to keep up with the rest, was at- tacked by some small English ships. To whose aid came in Leva, and Didacus Telles Enri- ques, with three galeasses: which the admiral, and the lord Thomas Howard, espying, made all the sail they could against the gale- asses, but the calm continuing, they were obliged to be towed along with their boats: as soon as they reached the galeasses, they began to play away so fiercely with their great guns, that with much danger and great loss they hardly recovered their galleon. The Spaniards reported that the Spanish admiral was that day in the rear of their fleet, which, being come nearer the English ships than before, got terribly shattered with their great guns, many men were killed aboard, and her masts laid over the side. The Spanish admiral, after this, in company with Ricaldus, and others, at- tacked the English admiral, who, having the advantage of the wind, suddenly tacked, and escaped. The Spaniards holding on their course again, sent to the duke of Parma, that with all possible speed he should join his ships with the king's fleet.These things theEng- lish knew not, who write that they had carried away the lantern from one of the Spanish ships, the stern from another, and sore mauled the third, very much disabling hei. The Non-Parigly, and the Mary Rose, fought a while with the Spa- niards;, and the Triumph being in danger, other ships came in good time to help her. The next day, the lord admiral knighted the lord Thomas Howard, the lord Sheffield, Roger Town- send, John Hawkins, and Martin Forbisher, for their valour in the last engagement. After this, they agreed not to attack the enemy until they came into the straits of Calais, where Henry Seimor, and William Winter, waited for their coming. Thus with a fair gale the Spanish fleet went foi*- ward, and the English followed. This great Spanish Armada was so far from being esteemed invin- cible in the opinion of the English, that many young men and gentle- men, in hope to be partakers of a famous victory against the Spa- niards, provided ships at their own expences, and joined themselves to the English flieet; among whom were the earls of Essex, Northum- berland, and Cumberland, Thomas and Robert Cecil, Henry Brooks, William Hatton, Robert Gary, Ambrose Willoughby, Thomas Gerard, Arthur Gorge, and other gentlemen of good note and qua- lity. The 27th day, at even, the Spa- niards cast anchor near to Calais, being admonished by their skilful seamen, that if they went any fur- ther, they might be in danger, through the force of the tide, to be driven into the North Ocean. Near to them lay the English ad- miral with his fleet, within a great gun's shot. The admiral, Seimor, and Winter now join their ships; so that now there were an hun- dred and forty ships in the Eng- lish fleet, able and well furnished for fighting, for sailing, and every thing else which was requisite: and yet there were but fifteen of these which bore the heat of the battle, and repulsed the enemy. The Spaniard, as often as he had done before, so now with great earnestness sent to the duke of Parma, to send forty fly-boats, without which they could not fight 790 BOOK OF MARTYRS. with tfte EogUsli, because of the greatness and slowness of their ships, and the agility of the Eng- lish; and entreating- him by all means now to come to sea with his army, which army was now to be protected, as it were, under the wings of the Spanish Ar- mada, until they should land in Enoland. But the duke was unprovided, and could not como out at an in- stant. The broad ships with flat bottoms being' then full of chinks must be mended. Victuals wanted and must be provided. The ma- riners being long kept against their wills, began to shrink away. The ports of Dunkirk and Newport, by which he must bring his army to the sea, were now so beset with the strong ships of Holland and Zealand, which were furnished with great and small munition, that he was not able to come to sea, unless he would come upon his own apparent destruction, and cast himself and his men wilfully into a headlong danger. Yet he omitted nothing that might be done, being a man eager and industrious, and inflamed with a desire of over- coming England. But queen Elizabeth's provi- dence and care prevented both the diligence of this man, and the cre- dulous hope of the Spaniard ; for by her command the next day the admiral took eight of their worst ships, charging the ordnance there- in up to the mouth with small shot, nails, and stones, and dressed them with wild fire, pitch and rosin, and filled them full of brimstone and i^ome other matter fit for fire, and these being set on fire by the ma- nagement of Young and Prowse, were secretly in the night, by the help of the wind, set full upon the Spanish fleet, which on Sun- day the seventh of August they sent in among them as they lay at anchor. When the Spaniards saw them come near, the flame giving light all over the sea; they supposing those ships, besides the danger of fire, to have been also furnished with deadly engines, to make hor- rible destruction among tbem ; lifting up a most hideous cry, some pull up anchors, some for haste cut their cables, they set up their sails, they apply their oars, and stricken with extreme terror, in great haste they fled most con- fusedly. Among them the Pre- torian Galleass floating upon the seas, her rudder being' broken, in great danger and fear drew towards Calais, and striking in the sand was taken by Amias Preston, Tho- mas Gerard, and Harvey ; Hugh Moncada the governor was slain, the soldiers and mariners were either killed or drowned ; in her there was found great store of gold, which fell to be the prey of the English. The ship and ord- nance went to the governor of Calais. The Spaniards report, that the duke, when he saw the fire-ships coming', commanded all the fleet to heave up their anchors, but so as the danger being past, every ship mig'ht return again to his own station: and he himself returned, giving a sign to the rest by shoot- ing' off a gun ; which was heard but by a few, for they were far off scattered, some into the open ocean, some through fear were driven upon the shallows of the coast of Flanders. Over against Graveling the Spanish fleet began to gather themselves together. But upon them came Drake and Fenner, and battered them with great ordnance: to these Fenton, Southwel, Bee- ston, Cross, Riman, and presently after the lord admiral, and Shef- field, came in. The duke Medina, Leva, Oquenda, Ricaldus, and others, with much ado gettingthem- selves out of the shallows, sustain- ed the English force as well as they might, until most of their ships were pierced and torn ; the galleon St. Matthew, governed by Diego Piraentellus, coming to aid Francis Toletan, being in the St. Philip, was pierced and shaken with the reiterated shots of Seimor and Winter, and driven to Osteud, and wns at last taken by the Fliisli- ingcrs. The St. Phihp came to SPANISH ARMADA. 791 the like end : so did tlie galleon of Biscay and divers others. The last day of this month, the Spanish fleet striving- to recover the straits again, were driven towards Zealand. The English left off pursuing them, as the Spa- niards thought because thej' saw them in a manner cast away ; for they could not avoid the shallows of Zealand. But the wind turn- ing, they got them out of the shal- lows, and then began to consult what were best for them to do. By common consent they resolved to return into Spain by the Northern seas, for they wanted many neces- saries, especiallj' shot, their ships were torn, and they had no hope that the duke of Parma could bring forth his forces. And so they took the sea, and followed the course toward the North. The English navy followed, and some- times the Spanish turned upon the English, insomuch that it was thought by many that the}' would turn back again. Queen Elizabeth caused an army to encamp at Tilbury. After the army was come thither, her ma- jesty went in person to visit the camp, which then lay between the city of London and the sea, under the charge of the earl of Leicester, where placing herself between the enemy and her city, she viewed her army, passing through it divers times, and lodging in the borders of it, returned again and dined in the army. Afterwards when they were all reduced into battle, pre- pared as it were for fight, she rode round about with a leader's staff in her hand, only accompanied with the general, and three or four others attending upon her*. * The queen made the following speech to the troops assembled at Tilbury — a speech which ought to be imprinted in the mind and heart of every English- man, Avho is a lover of his country and his religion. " My loving people, we have been per- suaded by some, that are careful of our safety, to' take heed how we commit our- selves to armed multitudes, for tear of treachery; but I assure you, I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and I could enlarge the description hereof with many more particu- lars of mine own observation (says the author), for I wandered, as many others did, from place to place, all the day, and never heard a word spoke of her, but in prais- ing her for her stately person and princely behaviour, in praying for her long life, and earnestly desir- ing to venture their lives for her safety. In her presence they sung psalms of praise to Almighty God, for which she greatly commended them, and devoutly praised God with them. This that I write you may be sure I do not with any comfort, but to give you these manifest arguments that neither this queen did discontent her peo- pie, nor her people shew any dis- content in any thing they were commanded to do for her service, as heretofore hath been imagined. This account was related by a popish spy, in a letter written here in England to Mendea. The copy loving people. Let tyrants fear : I have always so behaved myself, that, under God, I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good-will of ray subjects. And therefore I am come amongst you at this time, not as for my recreation or sport, but being- resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die amongst you all ; to lay down, for my God, and for my kingdom, and for my people, my ho- nour and my blood, even in the dust. I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart of a king, and cf a king of England too ; and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe, shj.ild dare to invade the borders of my realms: To which, rather than any disho!i')ur should grow by me, 1 myself will take up arms; I myself will be your general, judge, and rewarder of every one ol^ your virtues in the field. I know already, by your forwardness, that you have deserv- ed rewards and crowns; and I do assure you, on the word of a prince, they shall be duly paid you. In the mean time my lieutenant-general shall be in my stead, than whom never prince commanded a more noble and worthy subjecl ; not doubting by your obedience to my gene- ral, by your concord in the camp, and your valour in the field, we shall shortly have a famous victory over those enemies of my God, of my kingdom, and of my people." 792 BOOK OF MARTYRS. of wliich letter was found upon Kichard Leigh, a seminary priest in French and English: which priest was executed for high trea- son whilst the Spanish Armada was at sea. The same day whereon the last fight was, tlie duke of Parma, after his vows oflcrcd to the lady of Halla, came somewhat late to Dunkirk, and was received with very opprobrious language by the Spaniards, as if in favour of queen Elizabeth he had slipped the fair- est opportunity that could be to do the service. He, to make some sa- tisfaction, punished the purveyors that had not made provision of beer, bread, &c. which was not yet ready nor embarked, secretly smil- ing at the insolence of the Spa- niards, when he heard them brag- ging, that what way soever they came upon England, they would have an undoubted victory ; that the English were not able to en- dure the sight of them. The Eng- lish admiral appointed Seimor and the Hollanders to watch upon the coast of Flanders, that the duke of Parma should not come out ; whilst he himself close followed the Spa- niards until they m ere past Edin- burgh Frith. The Spaniards, seeing all hopes fail, fled amain ; and so this great navy, being three years preparing, with great expence, was within one month overthrown, and, after many were killed, being chased again, was driven about all Eng- land, by Scotlajid, the Orcades, and Ireland, tossed and damaged with tempests, much diminished, and went home without glory. There were not an hundred men of the English lost, and but one ship. Whereupon money was coined with a navy fleeing away in full sail, with this inscription, Venit, i^idit, Fugk. Others w.ere coined with the ships on lire, the navy confounded, inscribed, in honour of the queen. Dux Ficmina Facti. As they fled, it is certain that many of their ships were cast ;iway upon Uie sliores of Scotland AH'i Ireland. Above seven huu- dred soldiers and mariners were cast away upon the Scottish shore, who, at the duke of Parma's in- tercession with the Scotch king, the queen of England consenting, were, after a year, sent into Flan- ders. But they that were cast upon the Irish shore came to more miserable fortunes ; for some were killed by the wild Irish, and others were destroyed for fear they should join themselves with the wild Irish (which cruelty queen Elizabeth much condemned), and the rest being afraid, sick, and hungry, with their disabled ships, committed themselves to the sea, and many were drowned. The queen went to public thanksgiving in St. Paul's church, accompanied by a glorious train of nobility, through the streets of London, which were hung with blue cloth, the companies stand- ing on both sides in their liveries; the banners that were taken from the enemies were spread; she heard the sermon, and public thanks were rendered unto God with great joy. This public joy was augmented, when sir Robert Sidney returned from Scotland, and brought from the king assu- rances of his noble mind and af- fection to the queen, and to reli- gion ; which as in sincerity he had established, so he purposed to maintain with all his power. Sir Robert Sidney was sent to him when the Spanish fleet was com- ing, to congratulate and return thanks for his great aifection to- wards the maintenance of the common cause; and to declare how ready she would be to help him if the Spaniards should land in Scotland; and that he might recal to memory with what strange ambition the Spaniards had gaped for all Britain, urging the pope to excommunicate him, to the end that he might be thrust from the kingdom of Scotland, and from the succession in England: and to give bim notice of the threatening of Mendoza, and the pope's nuncio, who threatened his ruin if they could efl'ect it; and SPANISH ARMADA. 793 therefore warned him to take spe- cial heed to the Scottish papists. The king pleasantly answered, That he looked for no other benefit from tlic Spaniards, than that which Polyphemus promised to Ulysses, to devour him last after his fellows were devoured. It may not be improper here to subjoin a list of the different arti- cles taken on board the Spanish ships, designed for the tormenting of the protestants, had their scheme taken eflect. 1. The common soldiers' pikes, eighteen feet long, pointed with long sharp spikes, and shod with iron, which were designed to keep off the horse, to facilitate the land- ing of the infantry. 2. A great number of lances used by the Spanish officers. These were formerly gilt, but the gold is almost worn off by clean- ing. 3- The Spanish ranceurs, made in different forms, which were in- tended either to kill the men on horseback, or pull them off their horses. 4. A very singular piece of arms, being a pistol in a shield, so contrived as to fire the pistol, and cover the body, at the same time, with the shield. It is to be fired by a match-lock, and the sight of the enemy is to be taken through a lit- tle grate in the shield, which is pistol proof. 5. The banner, with a crucifix upon it, which was to have been carried before the Spanish gene- ral. On it is engraved the pope's benediction before the Spanish fleet sailed: for the pope came to the water-side, and, on seeing the fleet, blessed it, and styled it In- vincible. 6. The Spanish cravats, as they are called. These are engines of torture, made of iron, and put on board to lock together the feet, arms, and heads of Englishmen. 7. Spanish bilboes, made of iron likewise, to yoke the English pri- soners two and two. 8. Spanish shot, which are of four sorts: pike-shot, star-shot, chain-shot, and link-shot, all ad- mirably contrived, as well for the destruction of the masts and rig- ging of ships, as for sweeping the decks of their men. 9. Spanish spadas poisoned at the points, so that if a man re- ceived the slightest wound with one of them, certain death was the consequence. 10. A Spanish poll-axe, used in boarding of ships. 11. Thumb-screws, of which there were several chests full on board the Spanish fleet. The use they were intended for is said to have been to extort confession from the English where their money was hid. 12. The Spanish morning star; a destructive engine resembling the figure of a star, of which there were many thousands on board, and all of them with poisoned points; and were designed to strike at the enemy as they came on board, in case of a close at- tack. 13. The Spanish general's hal- berd, covered with velvet. All the nails of this weapon are dou- ble gilt with gold ; and on its top is the pope's head, curiously en- graved. 14. A Spanish battle-axe, so contrived as to strike four holes in a man's head at once ; and has be- sides a pistol in its handle, with a match-lock. 15. The Spanish general's shield, carried before him as an ensign of honour. On it are de- picted, in most curious workman- ship, the labours of Hercules, and other expressive allegories. When the Spanish prisoners were asked by some of the Eng- lish what their intentions were had their expedition succeeded* they replied, "To extirpate the whole from the island, at least all heretics, (as they called the pro- testants), and to send their souls to hell." — Strange infatuation! Ridiculous bigotry! How infer- nally prejudiced must the miudg of those men be, who would wish to destroy their fellow-creatures, not only in this world, but, if it were possible, in that which is to BOOK OF MARTYftS. come, merely because tliey refused to believe on certain subjects as the Spaniards themselves did. SECTION II. HORRID CONSPIRACY BY THE PAPISTS FOR THE DESTRUCTION OF JAMES I., THE ROYAL FAMILY, AND BOTH HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT; COMMONLY KNOWN BY THE NAME OF THE GUNPOWDER PLOT. The papists (of which there were great numbers in England at the time of the intended Spanish in- vasion) were so irritated at the failure of that expedition, that they were determined, if possible, to project a scheme at home, that might answer the purposes, in some degree, of their blood-thirsty competitors. The vigorous admi- nistration of Elizabeth, however, prevented their carrying any of their iniquitous designs into execu- tion, although they made many at- tempts with that view. The com- mencement of the reign of her successor was destined to be the era of a plot, the infernal barbarity of which transcends every thing related in ancient or modern history. In order to crush popery in the most effectual manner in this king- dom, James, soon after his acces- sion, took proper measures for eclipsing the power of the Roman Catholics, by enforcing those laws which had been made against them by his predecessors. This enraged the papists to such a degree, that a conspiracy was formed, by some of the principal leaders, of the most daring and impious nature; namely, to blow up the king, the royal family, and both houses of parliament, while in full session, and thus to involve the nation in utter and inevitable ruin. The infernal cabal who formed the resolution of putting in prac- tice this horrid scheme, consisted of th« following persons : Henry Garnet, an Englishman, who, about the year 1586, had been sent over here as superior of the Eng- lish Jesuits; Catesby, an English gentleman; Tesmond, a Jesuit; Thomas Wright; two gentlemen of the name of Winter ; Thomas Percy, a near relation of the earl of Northumberland ; Ouido Fawkes, a bold and enterprising soldier of fortune ; sir Edward Digby ; John Grant, Esq. ; Francis Tiesham, Esq. ; and Robert Keyes and Thomas 15ates, gentlemen. Most of these were men both of birth and fortune ; and Catesby, who had a large estate, had al- ready expended two thousand pounds in several voyages to the court of Spain, in order to intro- duce an army of Spaniards into England, for overturning the pro- testant government, and restoring the Roman Catholic religion ; but, being disappointed in his project of an invasion, he took an oppor- tunity of disclosing to Percy (who was his intimate friend, and who, in a sudden fit of passion, had hinted a design of assassinat- ing the king) a nobler and more extensive plan of treason, such as would include a sure execution of vengeance, and, at one blow, con- sign over to destruction all their enemies. Percy assented to the project proposed by Catesby, and they resolved to impart the matter to a few more, and, by degrees, to all the rest of their cabal, every man being bound by an oath, and taking the sacrament, (the most sacred rite of their religion) not to disclose the least syllable of the matter, or to withdraw from the association, without the consent of all persons concerned. These consultations were held in the spring and summer of the year 1604, and it was towards the close of that year that they began their operations ; the manner of which, and the discovery, wc shall 3 GUNPOWDER PLOT. 79« relate with as much brevity as is consistent with perspicuity. It had been agreed, that a few of the conspirators should run a mine below the hall in which the parliament was to assemble, and that they should clioose the very moment when the king should de- liver his speech to both houses, for springing the mine, and thus, by one blow, cut off the king', the royal family, lords, commons, and all the other enemies of the Catholic religion, in that very spot where that religion had been most op- pressed. For this purpose Percy, who was at that time a gentleman- pensioner, undertook to hire a house adjoining to the upper house of parliament, with all diligence. This was accordingly done, and the conspirators, expecting the parliament would meet on the 17th of February following, began, on the 11th of December, to dig in the cellar, through the wall of partition, which was three yards thick. There were seven in num- ber joined in this labour : they went in by night, and never after appeared in sig-ht, for, having supplied themselves with all ne- cessary provisions, they had no occasion to go out. In case of discovery, they had provided them- selves with powder, shot, and lire-arms, and had formed a reso- lution rather to die than be taken. On Candlemas-day, 1G05, they had dug so far through the wall as to be able to hear a noise on the other side ; upon which unex- pected event, fearing a discovery, Guido Fawkes (who personated Percy's footman) was dispatched to know the occasion, and returned with the favourable report, that the place from whence the noise came was a large cellar, under the upper house of parliament, full of sea-coal, which was then on sale, and the cellar offered to be let. On this information, Percy im- mediately hired the cellar, and bought the remainder of the coals : he then sent for thirty barrels of gunpowder from Holland, and landing them at Lambeth, con- veyed them gradually by night to this cellar, where they were co- vered with stones, iron bars, a thousand billets, and five hundred fagots ; all which they did at their leisure, the parliament being pro- rogued to the 5th of November. This being done, the conspira- tors next consulted Low they should secure the duke of York*, who was too young to be expected at the parliament-house, and his sister the princess Elizabeth, edu- cated at lord Harrington's, in War- wickshire. It was resolved, that Percy and another should enter into the duke's chamber, and a dozen more, properly disposed at several doors, with two or three on horseback at the court-gate to receive him, should carry him safe away as soon as the parliament- house was blown up ; or, if that could not be effected, that they should kill him, and declare the princess Elizabeth queen, having secured her, under pretence of a hunting-match, that day. Several of the conspirators pro- posed obtaining foreign aid prev!-, ous to the execution of their de- sign ; but this was over-ruled, and it was agreed only to apply to France, Spain, and other powers, for assistance after the plot had taken effect: they also resolved to proclaim the princess Elizabeth queen, and to spread a report, after the blow was given, that the puritans were the perpetrators of so inhuman an action. All matters being now prepared by the conspirators, they, without the least remorse of conscience, and with the utmost impatience, expected the 5th of November. But all their counsels were blasted by a happy and providential cir- cumstance. One of the conspira- tors, having a desire to save Wil- liam Parker, lord Monteagle, sent him the following letter : " My Lord, " Out of the love I bear to some » f Afterwards Charles I. 796 BOOK OF MARTYRS. of your friends, I have a care for your preservation ; therefore I ad- vise you, as you tender your life, to devise you some excuse to shift off your attendance at this parlia- ment ; for God and man have con- curred to punish the wickedness of this time : and think not slightly of this advertisement, but retire yourself into the country, where you may expect the event with safety ; for though there be no appearance of any stir, yet I say they shall receive a terrible blow, this parliament, and yet they shall not see who hurts them. This counsel is not to be contemned, because it may do you good, and can do you no harm ; for the dan- ger is past so soon (or as quickly) as you burn this letter; and I hope God will give you the grace to make good use of it, to whose holy protection I commend you." The lord Monteagle was, for some time, at a loss what judgment to form of this letter, and unre- solved whether he should slight the advertisement or not ; and fancying it a trick of his enemies to frighten him into an absence from parliament, would have de- termined on the former, had his own safety been only in question : but apprehending the king's lile might be in danger, he took the letter at midnight to the earl of Salisbury, who was equally puz- zled about the meaning of it ; and though he was inclined to think it merely a wild and waggish con- trivance to alarm Monteagle, yet he thought proper to consult about it with the earl of Suffolk, lord- chamberlain. The expression, *' that the blow should come, with- out knowing who hurt them," made them imagine that it would not be more proper than the time •of parliament, nor by any other iway like to be attempted than by gunpowder, while the king was sitting in that assembly : the lord- chamberlain thought this the more •probable, because there was a great cellar under the parliament- chamber (as already mentioned), never used for any thing but wood or coal, belonging to Wineyard, the keeper of the palace ; and having communicated the letter to the earls of Nottingham, Worces- ter, and Northampton, they pro- ceeded no farther till the king came from Royston, on the 1st of November. His majesty being shewn the letter by the earls, who, at the same time, acquainted him with their suspicions, was of opinion that either nothing should be done, or else enough to prevent the dan- ger; and that a search should be made on the day preceding that designed for the execution of the diabolical enterprise. Accordingly, on Monday, the 4th of November, in the afternoon, the lord-chamberlain, whose office it was to see all things put in readiness for the king's coming, accompanied by Monteagle, went to visit all places about the par- liament-house, and taking a slight occasion to see the cellar, observed only piles of billets and fagots, but in greater number than he thought Wineyard could want for his own use. On his asking who owned the wood, and being told it belonged to one Mr. Percy, he be- gan to have some suspicions, knowing liiui to be a rigid papist, and so seldom there, that he had no occasion for such a quantity of fuel; and Monteagle confirmed him therein, by observing that Percy had made him great profes- sions of friendship. Though there were no other ma- terials visible, yet Suffolk thought it was necessary to make a further search; and, upon his return to the king, a resolution was taken that it should be made in such a manner as should be effectual, without scandalizing any bodj', or giving any alarm. Sir Thomas Knevet, steward of Westminster, was accordingly or- dered, under the pretext of search- ing for stolen tapestry hangings in that place, and other houses thereabouts, to remove the wood, and see if anything was concealed 1 GUNPOWDER PLOT. 797 underneath. This gentleman go- ing at midnight, with several at- tendants, to the cellar, met Fawkes, just coming out of it, booted and spurred, with a tinder- box and three matches in his pockets ; and seizing him without any ceremony, or asking him any questions, as soon as the removal of the wood discovered tlie barrels of gunpowder, he caused him to be bound, and properly secured. Fawkes, who was an hardened and intrepid villain, made no he- sitation of avowing the design, and that it was to have been exe- cuted on the morrow. He made the same acknowledgment at his examination before a committee of the council ; and though he did not deny having some associates in this conspiracy, yet no threats of torture could make him disco- ver any of them, he declaring that " he was ready to die, and had ra- ther suffer ten thousand deaths, than willingly accuse his master, or any other." By repeated examinations, how- ever, and assurances of his mas- ter's being apprehended, he at length acknowledged, " that whilst he was abroad, Percy had kept the keys of the cellar, had been in it since the powder had been laid there, and, in effect, that he was one of the principal actors in the intended tragedy." In the mean time it was found out, that Percy had come post out of the north on Saturday night, the 2d of November, and had dined on Monday at Sion-House, with the earl of Northumberland; that Fawkes had met him on the road; and that, after the lord- chamberlain had been that even- ing in the cellar, he went, about six o'clock, to his master, who had fled immediately, apprehending the plot was detected. The news of the discovery im- mediately spreading, the conspi- rators fled different ways, but chiefly into Warwickshire, where sir Everard Digby had appointed a hunting-match, near Dunchurch, to get a number of recusants toge- ther, sufficient to seize the prin- cess Elizabeth; but this design was prevented by her taking re- fuge in Coventry ; and their whole party, making about one hundred, retired to Holbeach, the seat of sir Stephen Littleton, on the borders of Staffordshire, having broken open stables, and taken horses from different people in the ad- joining counties. Sir Richard Walsh, high-sheriff of Worcestershire, pursued them to Holbeach, where he invested them, and summoned them to sur- render. In preparing for their defence, they put some moist powder before a fire to dry, and a spark from the coals setting it on fire, some of the conspirators were so burned in their faces, thighs, and arms, that they were scarcely able to handle their weapons. Their case was desperate, and no means of escape appearing, unless by forcing their way through the assailants, they made^ a furious sally for that purpose. Catesby (who first proposed the manner of the plot) and Percy were both killed. Thomas Winter, Grant, Digby, Rookwood, and Bates, were taken and carried to London, where the first made a full disco- very of the conspiracy, Tresham, lurking about the city, and fre- quently shifting his quarters, was apprehended soon after, and, hav- ing confessed the whole matter, died of the strangury, in the Tower. The earl of Northumberland, sus- pected on account of his being re- lated to Thomas Percy, was, by way of precaution, committed to the custody of the archbishop of Canterbury, at Lambeth ; and was afterwards fined thirty thousand pounds, and sent to the Tower, for admitting Percy into the band of gentlemen pensioners, without tendering him the oath of supre- macy. Some escaped to Calais, and ar- riving there with others who fled to avoid a prosecution, which they apprehended on this occasion, were kindly received by the go- vernor; but one of them declaring 798 BOOK OF MARTYRS. before liim, that he was not so much concerned at his exile, as that the powder-plot did not take effect, the governor was so much incensed at Ms glorying in such an execrable piece of iniquity, that, in a sadden impulse of indigna- tion, he endeavoured to throw him into the sea. On the 27th of January, 1606, eight of the conspirators were tried and convicted; among whom was sir Everard Digby, the only one that pleaded guilty to the in- dictment, though all the rest had confessed their guilt before. Dig- by was executed on the 30th of the same month, with Robert Winter, Grant, and Bates, at the west end of St. Paul's church- yard; Thomas Winter, Keyes, Rookwood, and Fawkes, were ex- ecuted the following day in Old Palace-yard. Garnet was tried on the 28th of March, " for his knowledge and concealment of the conspiracy ; for administering an oath of secrecy to the conspirators; for persuad- ing them of the lawfulness of the treason, and for praying for the .success of the great action in hand at tlie beginning of the parlia- ment." Being found guilty*, he received sentence of death, bat was not executed till the 3d of May, when, confessing his own guilt, and the iniquity of the en- terprise, he exhorted all Roman Catholics to abstain from the like treasonable practices in future. Gerard and Hull, two Jesuits, got abroad; and Littleton, with se- veral others, were executed in the country. The lord Monteagle had a grant of two hundred pounds a year in land, and a pension ef five hun- dred pounds for life, as a reward for discovering the letter which gave the first hint of the conspi- racy; and the anniversary of this providential deliverance was or- dered to be for ever commemo- rated by prayer and thanksgiving. Thus was this diabolical scheme happily rendered abortive, and the authors of it brought to that condign punishment which their wickedness merited. In this af- fair Providence manifestly inter- posed in behalf of the protestants, and saved them from that destruc- tion which must have taken place, had the scheme succeeded accord- ing to the wishes of a bigoted, su- perstitious, and blood-thirsty fac^ tion. SECTION III. RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE PROTESTANT RELIGION IN IRELAND; WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE BARBAROUS MASSACRE OF 1641. The gloom of popery had over- shadowed Ireland, from its first establishment there till the reign of Henry VIII., when the •rays of the gospel began to dispel the darkness, and afford that light which had till then been unknown in that island. The abject igno- rance in which the people were held, with the absurd and super- * Although Garnet was convicted of this horrible crime, yet the bigoted Pa- pists were so besotted as to Took upon him as an object of devotion; they fen- J»*^ that miracles were wrought by his blood, and regarded him as a martyr! Such IS the deadening and perverting in- Quence of Popery ! stitious notions they entertained, were sufficiently evident to many ; and the artifices of their priests were so conspicuous, that several persons of distinction, who had hi- therto been strenuous papists, would willingly have endeavoured to shake ofi' the yoke, and embrace the protestant religion; bat the natural ferocity of the people, and their strong attachment to the ri- diculous doctrines which they had been taught, made the attempt dangerous. It was, however, at length undertaken, thongb at- tended with the most horrid and disastrous conseqaeuces. The introduction of the protest- ant religion into Ireland may b« REFORMATION IN IRELAND. 799 principally attributed to George Browne, an Englishman, who was consecrated archbishop of Dublin, on the 19th of March, 1535. He had formerly been an Augustine friar, and was promoted to the mitre on account of his merit. After having enjoyed his dignity about five years, he, at the time that Henry VIII. was suppressing the religious houses in England, caused all the relics and images to be removed out of the two cathe- drals in Dublin, and the other churches in his diocese ; in the place of which he caused to be put up the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, and the Ten Commandments. A short time after this he re- ceived a letter from Thomas Cromwell, lord privy-seal, inform- ing him that Henry VIII. having thrown off the papal supremacy in England, was determined to do the like in Ireland; and that he thereupon had appointed him (archbishop Browne) one of the commissioners for seeing this or- der put in execution. The arch- bishop answered, that he had em- ployed his utmost endeavours, at the hazard of his life, to cause the Irish nobility and gentry to ac- knowledge Henry as their su- preme head, in matters both spiri- tual and temporal ; but had met with a most violent opposition, especially from George, archbi- shop of Armagh : that this prelate had, in a speech to his clergy, laid a curse on all those who should own his highness's* supre- macy; adding, that their isle, called in the Chronicles Insula Sa- cra, or the Holy Island, belonged to none bat the bishop of Rome ; and that the king's progenitors had received it from the pope. He observed likewise, that the archbishop, and the clergy of Ar- magh, had each dispatched a cou- rier to Rome; and that it would be necessary for a parliament to be called in Ireland, to pass an act * The king of England was at that time called highness, not majesty^ as at present. of supremacy, the people not re- garding the king's commission without the sanction of the legisla- tive assembly. He concluded with observing, that the popes had kept the people in the most profound ignorance ; that the clergy were exceedingly illiterate ; that the common people were more zeal- ous, in their blindness, than the saints and martyrs had been in the defence of truth at the be- ginning of the gospel ; and that it was to be feared Shan O'Neal, a chieftain of great power in the northern part of the island, was decidedly opposed to the king's commission. In pursuance of this advice, the following year a parliament was summoned to meet at Dublin, by order of Leonard Grey, at that time lord-lieutenant. At this as- sembly archbishop Browne made a speech, in which he set forth, that the bishops of Rome used, anciently, to acknowledge empe- rors, kings, and princes, to be su- preme in their own dominions ; and, therefore, that he himself would vote king Henry VIII. as supreme in all matters, both eccle- siastical and temporal. He con- cluded with saying, that whoso- ever should refuse to vote for this act, was not a true subject of the king. This speech greatly startled the other bishops and lords; but at length, after violent debates, the king's supremacy was allowed. Two years after this the arch- bishop wrote a second letter to lord Cromwell, complaining of the clergy, and hinting at the machi- nations which the pope was then carrying on against the advocates of the gospel. This letter is dated from Dublin, in April 1538 ; and among other matters, the archbi- shop says, " A bird may be taught to speak with as much sense as many of the clergy do in this country. These, though not scho- lars, yet are crafty to cozen the poor common people, and to dis- suade them from following his highness's orders. The country folk here much hate your lordship, 800 BOOK OF MARTYRS. and despitefully call you, in their Irish tongue, the Blacksmith's Son, As a friend, I desire your lordship to look to your noble per- son. Rome hath a great kindness for the duke of Norfolk, and great favours for this nation, purposely to oppose his highness." A short time after this, the pope sent over to Ireland (directed to the archbishop of Armagh and his clergy) a bull of excommuni- cation against all who had, or should own the king's supremacy within the Irish nation ; denounc- ing a curse on all of them, and theirs, who should not, within forty days, acknowledge to their con- fessors, that they had done amiss in so doing. Archbishop Browne gave notice of this, in a letter, dated Dublin, May 1638. Part of the form of confession, or vow, sent over to these Irish papists, ran as follows : " I do further declare, him or her, father or mother, brother or sister, son or daughter, husband or wife, uncle or aunt, nephew or niece, kinsman or kinswoman, master or mistress, and all others, nearest or dearest relations, friend or ac- quaintance whatsoever, accursed, that either door shall hold, for the time to come, any ecclesiastical or civil power above the authority of the mother-church; or that do or shall obey, for the time to come, any of her the mother of churches opposers or enemies, or contrary to the same, of which I have here sworn unto: so God, the Blessed Virgin, St. Peter, St. Paul, and the Holy Evangelists, help me, &c." This is an exact agreement with the doctrines promulgated by the councils of Lateran and Con- stance, which expressly declare, that no favour should be shewn to heretics, nor faith kept with them ; that they ought to be excommuni- cated and condemned, and their estates confiscated ; and that princes are obliged, by a solemn oath, to root them out of their re- spective dominions. How abominable a church must that be, which thus dares to tram- ple upon all authority ! how be- sotted the people Mho regard the injunctions of such a church ! In the archbishop's last-men- tioned letter, dated May 1538, he says, " His highness's viceroy of this nation is of little or no power with the old natives. Now both English and Irish begin to oppose your lordship's orders, and to lay aside their national quarrels, which I fear will (if any thing will) cause a foreigner to invade this nation." Not long after this, archbishop Browne seized one Thady O'Briau, a Franciscan friar, who had in his possession a paper sent from Rome, dated May 1,538, and di- rected to O'Neal. In this letter were the following words: "His holiness Paul, now pope, and the council of the fathers, have lately found, in Rome, a prophecy of one St. Lacerianus, an Irish bishop of Cashel, in which he saith, that the mother church of Rome falleth, when, in Ireland, the Catholic faith is overcome. Therefore, for the glory of the mother-church, the honour of St. Peter, and your own secureness, suppress heresj', and his holiness's enemies." This Thady O'Brian, after far- ther examination and search made, was pilloried, and kept close pri- soner, till the king's order arrived in what manner he should be far- ther disposed of. But order com- ing over from England that he was to be hanged, he laid violent hands on himself in the castle of Dublin. His body was afterwards carried to Gallows-green, where, after being hanged up for some time, it was interred. After the accession of Edward VI. to the throne of England, an order was directed to Sir Anthony Leger, the lord-deputy of Ireland, commanding that the liturgy in English be forthwith set up in Ireland, there to be observed within the several bishoprics, ca- thedrals, and parish churches; and it was first read in Christ- church, Dublin, on Easter-day, 1551, before the said sir Anthony, UEFORMATION IN IRKLANU. SOI ki-chbishop Browne, and others. Part of the royal order for this purpose was as follow?: " Where- as our gracious father, king Henry VIII. taking into consideration the bondage and heavy yoke tliat his true and faithful subjects sus- tained, under tlie jurisdiction of th{ )p of Rosne ; h{ fabulous stories and lying wonders misled our subjects ; dispensing with the sins of oar nations, by "their indulgences and pardons, for gain ; purposely to cherish all evil vices, as robberies, rebellions, theft, whoredoms, blasphemy, idolatry, &c. our gracious father hereupon dissolved all priories, monasteries, abbeys, andotlier pre- tended religious houses ; as being but nurseries for vice or luxury, more than for sacred learning, &c." Dress of a Female condemned hy the Jn qmsitiou. i)r?i« of a Man in a On the day after the common- prayer was tirst used in Christ- church, Dublin, the following •wicked scheme was projected by the papists : In the church was left a marble image of Christ, holding a reed in his hand, with a crown of thorns on his head. Whilst the English service (the Common Prayer) was being read before the lord-lieute- nant, the archbishop of Dublin, the privy-council, the lord-mayor, and a great congregation, blood was FOX'S MARTYRS. seen to run through the crevices of the crown of thorns, and to trickle down the face of the image. On this, some of the contrivers of the imposture cried aloud : " See how our Saviour's image sweats blood! But it must necessarily do this, since heresy is come into the church." Immediately many of the lower order of people, indeed the vulgar of afl ranks, were ter- rified at the sight of so tnirmulavs and undeniable an evidence of the Divine displeasure ; thftv hastened 51 *01 BOOK OF MARTYRS. from the ehiucb, convinced that the doctrines of protestantism emanated from an infernal source, and that salvation was only to be found in the bosom of their own infaliible church. This incident, however ridiculous it may appear to the enlightened reader, had great influence over the minds of the ignorant Irish, and answered the ends of the im- pudent impostors who contrived it, so far as to check the progress of the reformed religion in Ireland very materially; many persons could not resist the conviction that there were many errors and cor- ruptions in the Romish church, but they were awed into silence by this pretended manifestation of Divine wrath, which was magnified beyond measure by the bigoted and interested priesthood. We have very few particulars as to the state of religion in Ireland during the remaining portion of the reign of Edward VI. and the greater part of that of Mary. To- wards the conclusion of the bar- barous sway of that relentless bigot, she attempted to extend her inhu- man persecutions to this island; but her diabolical intentions were happily frustrated in the following providential manner, the particu- lars of which are related by histo- rians of good authority. Mary had appointed Dr. Cole (an agent of the blood-thirsty Bon- ner) one of the commissioners for carrying her barbarous intentions into effect. He having arrived at Chester with his commission, the mayor of that city, being a papist, waited upon him; when the doctor taking out of his cloak-bag a lea- thern case, said to him, " Here is a commission that shall lash the he- retics of Ireland." The good wo- man of the house being a protest- ant, and having a brother in Dub- lin, named Jolin Edmunds, was greatly troubled at what she heard. But watching her opportunity, whilst the mayor was taking his leave, and the doctor politely ac- companying him dowu stairs, she opentd the box, took out the com- mission, and in its .itead laid a sheet of paper, with a pack of cards, and the knave of clubs at top. The doctor, not suspecting the trick that had been played him, put up the box, and arrived with it in Dublin in September, 1558. Anxious to accomplish the in- tentions of his "pious" mistress, he immediately waited upon lord Fitz-Walter, at that time viceroy, and presented the box to him; which being opened, nothing was found in it but a pack of cards. This startling all the persons pre- sent, his lordship said, " We must procure another commission; and in the mean time let us shuffle the cards !" Dr. Cole, however, would have directly returned to England to get another commission; but wait- ing for a favourable wind, news ar- rived that queen Mary was dead, and by this means the protestants escaped a most cruel persecution. The above relation, as we before observed, is confirmed by histo- rians of the greatest credit, who add, that queen Elizabeth settled a pension of forty pounds per an- num upon the above-mentioned Elizabeth Edmunds, for having thus saved the lives of her protestant subjects. During the reigns of Elizabeth and of James I. Ireland was al- most constantly agitated by rebel- lions and insun-ections, which, al- though not always taking their rise from the dilierence of religious opinions between the English and Irish, were aggravated and ren- dered more bitter and irreconcil- able from that cause. The popish priests artfully exaggerated the faults of the English government, and continually urged to their ig- norant and prejudiced hearers the lawfulness of killing the protest- ants, assuring them that all Catho- lics who were slain in the prosecu- tion of so piojw an enterprise would be immediately received into ever- lasting felicity. The naturally ungovernable dispositions of tire Irish, acted upon by the^ie designing- men, drov© them into conthiual .1 IRISH MASSACRE. 803 acts of barbarous and unjustifiable violence, and it must be confessed that the unsettled and arbitrary nature of the authority exercised by the English governors was but little calculated to gain their affec- tions. The Spaniards, too, by landing forces in the south, and giving every encouragement to the discontented natives to join their standard, kept the island in a con- tinual state of turbulence and war- fare. In 1601 they disembarked a body of 4000 men at Kinsale, and commenced what they called " the holy war, for the preservation of the faith ill Ireland;" they were as- sisted by great numbers of the Irish, but were at length totally defeated by the deputy, lord Mountjoy, and his officers. This closed the transactions of Elizabeth's reign with respect to Ireland ; an interval of apparent tranquillity followed, bat the popish priesthood, ever restless and de- signing, sought to undermine by secret machinations that govern- ment and that faith which they durst no longer openly attack. The pacific reign of James afforded them the opportunity of increasing their strength and maturing their schemes ; and under bis successor, Charles I. their numbers were greatly increased by titular Romish archbishops, bishops, deans, vicars-general, abbots, priests, and friars ; for which reason, in 1629, the public exercise of the popish rites and ceremonies was forbid- den. But notwithstanding this, soon afterwards the Romish clergy erected a new popish university in the city of Dublin. They also proceeded to build monasteries and nunneries in various parts of the kingdom ; in which places these very Romish clergy, and the chiefs of the Irish, held frequent meetings ; and, from thence, used to pass to and fro, to France, Spain, Flanders, Lorrain, and Rome ; where the detestable plot of 1641 was hatching by the fa- mily of the O'Neals and their fol- lowers. A short time before the horrid conspiracy broke out, which we are now going to relate, the pa- pists in Ireland had presented a remonstrance to the lords-justices of that kingdom, demanding the free exercise of their religion, and a repeal of all laws to the con- trary ; to which both houses of parliament in England solemnly answered, that they would never grant any toleration to the popish religion in that kingdom*. This farther irritated the papists to put in execution the diabolical plot concerted for the destruction of the protestants; and it failed not of the success wished for by its malicious and rancorous pro- jectors. The design of this horrid con- spiracy was, that a general insor- reetion should take place at the same time throughout the king- dom; and that all the protestants, without exception, should be mur- dered. The day fixed for this horrid massacre was the 23d of October, 1641, the feast of Igna- tius Loyola, founder of the Je- suits ; and the chief conspirator*, in the principal parts of the king- dom, made the necessar\' prepara- tions for the intended conflict. In order that this detested scheme might the more infalliblv succeed, the most distinguished artifices were practised by the pa- pists; and their behaviour, in their visits to the protestants, at this time, was with more seeming kind- ness than they had hitherto shewn, which was done the more com- pletely to effect the inhummi and treacherous designs then meditat- ing against them. The execution of this savage conspiracy was delayed till the approach of winter, that the send- * In this proceeding both parties were most probaoly wrong ; the Catholics asked too boldly, and the Protestants denied too harshly ; but that was the age of intolerance. Now. however, that we ha^e repaired the errors of our ancestors, and have granted that tolera- tion which the papists then reqqir&d, they extend their demands; like the in- satiate conqueror of the North, they " think nrtthine gained, while ougiit Co gain remains," S04 BOOK OF MARTYRS. iutf troops from England might be attended with greater dilliculty. Cardinal Richlieu, the French mi- nister, had promised the conspi- rators a considerable supply of men and money ; and many Irish officers had given the strongest as- surances, that they would heartily concur with their Catholic brethren, as soon as the insurrection took place. The day preceding that ap- pointed for carrying this horrid design into execution was now ar- rived, when, happily for the metro- polis of the kingdom, the conspi- racy was discovered by one Owen O'Connelly, an Irishman, for which most sig'nal service the English parliament voted him 5001. and a pension of 2001. during' his life. So very seasonably was this plot discovered, even but a few hours before the city and castle of Dublin were to have been sur- prised, that the lords-justices had but just time to put themselves, and the city, in a proper posture of defence. The lord M'Guire, who was the principal leader here, with bis accomplices, were seized the same evening in the city ; and in their lodgings were found swords, hatchets, pole-axes, ham- mers, and such other instruments of death as had been prepared for the destruction and extirpation of the protestants in that part of the kingdom. Thus was the metropolis hap- pily preserved ; but the bloody part of the intended tragedy was past prevention. The conspira- tors were in arms all over the king- dom early in the morning of the day appointed, and every protest- ant who feli in their way was im- mediately murdered. No age, no sex, no condition, was spared. The wife weeping for her butchered hus- band, and embracing her helpless children, was pierced with them, and perished by ihe same stroke. The old, the joung, the vigorous, and the infirm, underwent the same fate, and were blended in one com- mon ruin. In vain did flight save from the first assault: destruction was every where let loose, and met the hunted victims at everj turn. In vain was recourse had to relations, to companions, to friends : all connexions were dis- solved, and death was dealt by that hand, from which protection was implored and expected. Without provocation, without op- position, the astonished English, living in profound peace, and, as they thought, full security, were massacred by their nearest neigh- bours, with whom they had long maintained a continued intercourse of kindness and good offices. Nay, even death was the slightest punishment inflicted by these mon- sters in human form; all the tor- tures which wanton cruelty could invent, all the lingering pains of body, the anguish of mind, the agonies of despair, could not sa- tiate revenge excited without in- jury, and cruelly derived from no jtust cause whatever. Depraved nature, even perverted religion, though encouraged by the utmost licence, cannot reach to a greater pitch of ferocity than appeared in these merciless barbarians. Even the weaker sex themselves, natu- rally tender to their own suflerings, and compassionate to those of others, here emulated their robust companions in the practice of every cruelty. The very children, taught by example, and encouraged by the exhortation of their parents, dealt their feeble blows on the dead carcasses of defenceless children of the English. Nor was the avarice of the Irish sufficient to produce the least re- straint on their cruelty. Such was their frenzy, that the cattle they had seized, and by rapine had made their own, were, because they bore the name of English, wantonly slaughtered, or, when covered with wounds, turned loose into the woods, there to perish by slow and lingering torments. The commodious habitations of the planters were laid in ashes, or levelled with the ground. And where the wretched owners had shut themselves up in the houses, and were preparing for defence, they perished in the flamps toge- IRISH MASSACRE. 803 thcr with their wives and chil- dren. Such is the general description of this unparalleled massacre; but it now remains, from the nature of our work, that we proceed to particulars. The bigoted and merciless pa- pists had no sooner begun to im- brue their hands in blood, than they repeated the horrid tragedy day after day ; and the protestants in all parts of the kingdom fell \ictims to their fury by deaths of the most unheard-of cruelty. The ignorant Irish were more strong-ly instigated to execute the infernal business by the Jesuits, priests, and friars, who, when the day for the execution of the plot was agreed on, recommended, in their prayers, diligence in the great design, M'hich they said would greatly tend to the prospe- rity of the kingdom, and to the ad- vancement of the Catholic cause. They every where declared to the common people, that the protes- tants were heretics, and ought not to be suffered to live any longer among them ; adding, that it was no more sin to kill an Englishman than to kill a dog; and that the relieving or protecting them was a crime of the most unpardonable nature. The papists having besieged the town and castle of Longford, and the inhabitants of the former, who were protestants, surrendering on condition of being allo%ved quar- ter, the besiegers, the instant the towns-people appeared, attacked them in the most unmerciful man- ner, their priest, as a signal for the rest to fall on, first ripping open the belly of the English pro- testant minister; after which his followers murdered all the rest, some of whom they hung, others were stabbed or shot, and great numbers knocked on the head with axes provided for the pur- pose. The garrison of Sligo was treated in like manner by O'Con- nor Sly gall ; who, upon the pro- testants quitting their holds, pro- mised them quarter, and to convey them safe over the Curlew moun- tains, to Roscommon. But he first imprisoned them in a most loathsome gaol, allowing them only grains for their food. After- wards, when some papists were merry over their cups, who were come to congratulate their wicked brethren for their victory over these unhappy creatures, those protestants who survived were brought forth by the white friars, and were either killed, or precipi- tated over the bridge into a swift water, where they were soon de- stroyed. It is added, that this wicked company of white friars went some time after in solemn procession, with holy water in their hands, to sprinkle the river, on pretence of cleansing and puri- fying it from the stains and pollu- tion of the blood and dead bodies of the heretics, as they called the unfortunate protestants who were inhumanly slaughtered at this time. At Kilmore, Dr. Bedell, bishop of that see, had charitably settled and supported a great number of distressed protestants, who had fled from their habitations to escape the diabolical cruelties committed by the papists. But they did not long enjoy the conso- lation of living together; the good prelate was forcibly dragged from his episcopal residence, which was immediately occupied by Dr. Swi- ney, the popish titular bishop of Kilmore. who said mass in the church the Sunday following, and then seized on all the goods and eflects belonging to the persecuted bishop. Soon after this, the papists forced Dr. Bedell, his two sons, and the rest of his family, with some of the chief of the protes- tants whom he had protected, into a ruinous castle, called Lochwa- ter, situated in a lake near the sea. Here he remained with his companions some weeks, all of them daily expecting to be put to death. The greatest part of them were stripped naked, by which S06 BOOK OF MARTYRS. mean^, ^^ ^^^ season was cold, (it being in Hie month of December) and the building in which they •n-ere confined open at the top, they suffered the most severe hard- ships. . ,, . .^ .- They continued in this situation till the 7th of January, when they were all released. The bishop was courteously received mto the house of Dennis O'Sheridan, one of his clergy, whom he had made a convert to the church of Eng- land; but he did not long survive this kindness. During his residence here, he spent the whole of his time in reli- gious exercises, the better to fit and prepare himself, and his sor- rowful companions, for their great change, as nothing but certain death was perpetually before their eyes. He was at this time in the 71st year of his age, and being afflicted with a violent ague caught in his late cold and desolate habitation on the lake, it soon threw him into a fever of the most dangerous na- ture. Finding his dissolution at hand, he received it with joy, like one of the primitive martyrs just hastening to his crown of glory. After having addressed his little Hock, and exhorted them to pa- tience, in the most pathetic man- ner, as they saw their own last day approaching; after having so- lemnly blessed his people, his fa- mily, and his children, he finished the course of his ministry and life together, on the 7th of February, 1642. His friends and relations applied to the intruding bishop, for leave to bury him, which was with diffi- culty obtained; he, at first, telling them, that the church-yard was holy ground, and should be no longer defiled with heretics: how- ever, leave was at last granted, and though the church funeral service was not used at the solem- nity, (for fear of the Irish papists) yet some of the better sort, who bad the highest veneration for bini when living, attended his remains to the grave. At his interment, they discharged a volley of shot, crying out, Requiescat in pace ulti- mus Anglorvm: that is, "May the last of the English rest in peace." Adding, that as he was one of the best, so he should be the last Eng- lish bishop found among them. His learning was very exten- sive ; and he would have given ihc world a greater proof of it, had he printed all he wrote. Scarce any of his writings were saved; the papists having destroyed most of his papers and his library. He had gathered a vast heap of critical expositions of Scripture, all which, with a great trunk full of his manuscripts, fell into the hands of the Irish. Happily his great Hebrew MS. was preserved, and is now in the library of Ema- nuel college, Oxford. In the barony of Terawley, the papists, at the instigation of their friars, compelled above 40 English protestants, some of whom were women and children, to the hard fate either of falling by the sword, or of drowning in the sea. These choosing the latter, were accord- > ingly forced, by the naked wea- pons of their inexorable persecu- tors, into the deep, where, with their children in their arms, they first waded up to their chins, and afterwards sunk down and perished together. In the castle of Lisgool upwards of 150 men, women, and children, were all burnt together; and at the castle of Moneah not less than 100 were put to the sword. Great numbers were also murdered at the castle of Tullah, which was delivered up to M'Guire, on con- dition of having fair quarter; but no sooner had that base villain got possession of the place, than he ordered his followers to murder the people, which was immediately done with the greatest cruelty. Many others were put to deaths of the most horrid nature, and such as could have been invented only by demons instead of men. Some of them were laid with the r.entre of their backs on the axle- tree of a carriage, with their legs IRISH MASSACRE. $07 ifstiug oil llie ground on one side, and their arms and head on Ihe other. In this position one of the savages scourged the wretched ob- ject on the thighs, legs, &c., while another set on furious dogs, who tore to pieces the arms and upper parts of the body; and in this dreadful manner were they de- prived of their existence. Great numbers were fastened to horses' tails, and the beasts being set on full gallop by their riders, the wretched victims were dragged along till they expired. Others were hung on lofty gib- bets, and a fire being kindled un- der them, they finished their lives, partly by hanging, and partly by suffocation. Nor did the more tender sex escape the least particle of cruelty that could be projected by their merciless and furious persecutors. Many women, of all ages, were put to deaths of the most cruel na- ture. Some, in particular, were fastened with their backs to strong posts, and being stripped to the waist, the inhuman monsters cut off their right breasts with shears, which, of course, put them to the most excruciating torments; and in this position they were left, till, from the loss of blood, they ex- pired. Such was the savage ferocity of these barbarians, that even unborn infants were dragged from the womb to become victims to their rage. Many unhappy mothers were hung naked on the branches of trees, and their bodies being cut open, the innocent offspring was taken from them, and thrown to dogs and swine. And, to in- crease the horrid scene, they would oblige the husband to be a spectator before he suffered him- self. At the town of Lissenskeath they hanged above 100 Scottish protestants, shewing them no more mercy than they did to the Eng- lish. M'Guir^, going to the castle of that town, desired to speak with the governor, when being admit- ted, he immediately burnt the re- cords of the county, which were kept there. He then demanded 10001. of the governor, which hav- ing received, he immediately com- pelled him to hear mass, and to swear that he would continue so to do. And to complete his horrid barbarities, he ordered the wife and children of the governor to be hung up before his face; besides massacring at least 100 of the in- habitants. Upwards of 1000 men, women, and children, were driven, in dif- ferent companies, to Portendown bridge, which was broken in the middle, and there compelled to throw themselves into the water; and such as attempted to reach the shore were knocked on the head. In the same part of the country, at least 4000 persons were drowned in different places. The inhuman papists, after iirst stripping them, drove them like beasts to the spot fixed for their destruction ; and if any, through fatigue, or natural infirmities, were slack in their pace, they pricked them with their swords and pikes; and to strike a farther terror on the multitude, they murdered some by the way. Many of these poor creatures, when thrown into the water, en- deavoured to save themselves by swimming to the shore; but their merciless persecutors prevented their endeavours taking ellect, by shooting them in the water. In one place 140 English, after bein,g driven for many miles stark naked, and in the most severe weather, were all murdered on the same spot, some being hanged, others burnt, some shot, and many of them buried alive; and so cruel were their tormentors, that they would not suffer them to praj' be- fore they robbed them of their mi- serable existence. Other companies they took under pretence of safe-conduct, who, from that consideration, pro- ceeded cheerfully on their jour- ney; but when the treacherous pa- pists had got tliem to a convenieut SOS liOOK OF MAR lYRS. 5pot, thxjy butchered them all in the most cruel manner. One hundred and fifteen men, tvonien, and children, were con- ducted, by order of sir Phelim O'Neal, to Portendown bridge, where they were all forced into the river, and drowned. One wo- man, named Campbell, finding no probability of escaping, suddenly clasped one of the chief of the papists in her arms, and held him so fast, that they were both drowned together. In Killoman they massacred 48 families, among whom 22 were burnt together in one house. The rest were either hanged, shot, or drowned. In Killmore the inhabitants, which consisted of about 200 fami ■ lies, all fell victims to their rage. Some of the protestants were set in the stocks till they confessed where their money was; after which tliey were put to death. The whole country was one com- mon scene of butchery, and many thousands perished, in a short lime, by sword, famine, fire, wa- ter, and all other the most cruel deaths that rage and malice could invent. These inhuman villains shewed so much favour to some as to dispatch them immediately ; but they would by no means suffer them to pray. Others they imprisoned in filthy dungeons, putting heavy bolts on their legs, and keeping them there till they were starved to death. At Cashel they put all the pro- testants into a loathsome dungeon, where they kept them together for several weeks in the greatest misery. At length they were re- leased, when some of them were barbarously mangled, and left on the highways to perish at leisure; others were hanged, and some were buried in the ground upright, with their heads above the earth, the papists, to increase their mi- sery, treating them with derision during their sufferings. In the county of Antrim they murdered 954 protestants in one morning; and afterwards abottt 1200 more in that county. At a town called Lisnegary, they forced 24 protestants into a house, and then setting fire to it, burned them together, counter- feiting their outcries in derision to others. Among other acts of cruelty, they took two children belonging to an Englishwoman, and dashed out their brains before her face; after which they threw the mother into a river, and she was drowned. They served many other children in the like manner, to the great affliction of their parents, and the disgrace of human nature. In Kilkenny all the protestants, without exception, were put to death ; and some of them in so cruel a manner, as, perhaps, was never before thought of. They beat an Englishwoman with such savage barbarity, that she had scarce a whole bone left; after which they threw her into a ditch; but not satisfied with this, they took her child, a girl about six years of age, and after ripping up its belly, threw it to its mother, there to languish till it perished. They forced one man to go to mass, after which they ripped open his body, and in that manner left him. Tliey sawed another asunder, cut the throat of his wife, and after having dashed out the brains of their child, an infant, threw it to the swine, who greedily devoured it. After committing these and many other horrid cruelties, they took the heads of seven protes- tants, and among them that of a pious minister, all which they fixed up at the market cross. They put a gag into the minister's mouth, then slit his cheeks to his ears, and laying a leaf of a Bible before it, bid him preach, for his mouth was wide enough. They did several other things by way of derision, and expressed the great- est satisfaction at having thus murdered and exposed the un- happy protestants. It is impossible to conceive the IRISH MASSACRE. 809 pleasure ihcse monsters took in exercising their cruelty; and to increase the misery of those who fell into their hands, while they were butclierins; them, they would cry, " Your soul to the devil!" One of these miscreants would come into a house with his hands imbrued in blood, and boast that it was English blood, and that his sword had pricked the white skins of protestants, even to the hilt. When any one of thera had killed a protestant, others would come and receive a gratification in cutting and mangling the body ; after which they left it to be de- voured by dogs ; and when they had slain a number of them, they would boast that the devil was be- holden to them for sending so many souls to hell! But it is no wonder they should thus treat the innocent Christians, when they hesitated not to commit blasphemy against God and his most holy vvord. In one place they burnt two pro- testant Bibles, and then said they liad burnt hell-fire. In the church at Powerscourt, they burnt the pulpit, pews, chests, and Bibles belonging to it. They took other Bibles, and, after wetting them with dirty water, dashed them in the faces of the protestants, say- ing, " We know you love a good lesson ; here is an excellent one for you; come to-morrow, and you shall have as good a sermon as this." Some of the protestants they dragged by the hair of their heads into the cliurch, where tliey|stripped and whipped them in the most cruel manner, telling them, at the same time, " That if they came to-morrow, they should hear the like sermon." In Munster they put to death several ministers in the most shocking manner. One, in parti- cular, they stripped stark naked, and driving him before them, pricked him with swords and pikes till he fell down, and expired. In some places they plucked out the eyes, and cut off the hands of the protestants, and in that con- dition turned thein into the fields, there to linger out the remainder of their miserable existence. They obliged many young men to force their aged parents to a river, where they were drowned ; v/ives to assist in hanging their husbands; and mothers to cut the throats of their children. In one place they compelled a young man to kill his father, and then immediately hanged him. In another they forced a woman to kill her husband, then obliged her son to kill her, and afterwards shot him through the head. At a place called Glaslow, a po- pish priest, with some others, pre- vailed on 40 protestants to be re- conciled to the church of Rome, under the vain hope of saving their lives. They had no sooner done this, than the deceivers told them they were in a good faith, and that they would prevent their fall- ing from it, and turning heretics, by sending them out of the world; which they did by immediately cutting their throats. In the county of Tippcrary a great number of protestants, men, women, and children, fell into the hands of the papists, who, after stripping them naked, murdered them with stones, pole-axes, swords, and other weapons. In the county of Mayo about 60 protestants, 15 of whom were mi- nisters, were, upon covenant, to be safely conducted to Galway, by one Edmund Burke and his soldiers; but that inhuman mon- ster by the way drew his sword, as an intimation of his design to the rest, who immediately fol- lowed his example, and murdered the whole, some of whom they stabbed, otiiers were run through the body with pikes, and several were drowned. In Queen's county great num- bers of protestants were put to the most shocking deaths. Fifty or sixty were confined together in 810 BOOK OF MARTYRS. one house, which being set on fire, they all perished in the flames*. Many were stripped naked, and being fastened to horses by ropes placed round their middles, were dragged through bogs till they ex- pired. Some were hung by the feet to tenter-hooks driven into poles, and in that wretched posture left tiirthey perished. Others were fastened to the trunk of a tree, with a branch at the top. Over this branch hung one arm, which principally sup- ported the weight of the body; and one of the legs was turned up, and fastened to the trunk, while the other hung straight. In this dreadful and uneasy posture did they remain, as long as life would permit, pleasing spectacles to their blood-thirsty persecutors. At Clownes 17 men were buried alive; and an Englishman, his wife, five children, and a servant maid, were all hung together, and afterwards thrown into a ditch. They hung n»any by the arms to branches of trees, with a weight to their feet; and others by the mid- dle, in which postures they left them till they expired. Several were hung on windmills, and before they were half dead, the barbarians cut them in pieces * This worse than diabolical metliod of exterminating whole families at once, is not yet obsolete among the barbarous savages of the south of Ireland. To the disgrace of human nature, we have more than one recent instance among them of this almost incredible cruelty. The murderous catastrophe of the Sheas is unparalleled, even among the Indians of North America, or the cannibals of the South Sea Islands. Nevertheless, igno- rant and benighted as these poor crea- tures, even now, are, they are rather objects of pity than of detestation. — It is our duty to pray that the Source of all good will incline their hearts to re- ceive the doctrines of his pure gospel — that He will illumine their darkened minds with the light of truth— so that they may abaudon the bondage of Satan, and become the cheerful ministers of the will of Him, " whose service is perfect freedom." with their swordi>. Others, both men, women, and children, they cut and hacked in various parts of their bodies, and left them wallow- ing in their blood, to perish where they fell. One poor woman they hung on a gibbet, with her child, an infant about a tvtelvemonth old, the latter of whom was hung by the neck with the hair of its mother's head, and in that manner finished its short but miserable ex- istence. In.,^he county of Tyrone no less than 300 protestants were drowned in one day ; and many others were hang-ed, burned, and otherwise put to death. Dr. Maxwell, rector of Tyrone, lived at this time near Armagh, and suffered greatly from these merciless savages. This clergy- man, in his examination, taken upon oath before the king's com- missioners, declared, that the Irish papists owned to him, that they had destroyed, in one place, at Glynwood, 12,000 protestants, in their flight from the county of Ar- magh. As the river Bann was not ford- able, and the bridge broken down, the Irish forced thither, at differ- ent times, a great number of un- armed, defenceless protestants, and with pikes and swords vio- lently thrust above 1000 into the river, where they miserably pe- rished. Nor did the cathedral of Ar- magh escape the fury of these bar- barians, it being maliciously set on fire by their leaders, and burnt to the git)und. And to extirpate, if possible, the very race of those unhappy protestants, who lived in or near Armagh, the Irish first burnt all their houses, and then gathered together many hundreds of those innocent people, young and old, on preteuce of allowing them a guard and safe conduct to Coleraine; when they treacher- ously fell on them by the way, and inhumanly nmrdered them. The like horrid barharitios wnth those we havt? pal ticiiiarivsod, SIEGE OF LONDONDERRY. sn were practised on the wretched protestants in almost all parts of the kingdom; and, when an esti- mate was afterwards made of the number who were sacrificed to g'ratify the diabolical souls of the papists, it amounted to 150,000. IJut it now remains that we pro- ceed to the particulars that fol- lowed. These desperate wretches, flushed and grown insolent with success, (though attained by me- thods attended with such exces- sive barbarities as perhaps are not to be equalled) soon got posses- sion of the castle of Newry, where the king's stores and ammunition wxre lodged; and, with as little diificulty, made themselves mas- ters of Dundalk. They afterwards took the town of Ardee, where they murdered all the protestants, and then proceeded to Drogheda. The garrison of Drogheda was in no condition to sustain a siege ; notwithstanding which, as often as the Irish renewed their attacks, they A? ere vigorously repulsed, by a very unequal number of the king's forces, and a few faithful protestant citizens, under sir Henry Tichborne, the governor, assisted by the lord viscount Moore. The siege of Drogheda began on the 30th of November, 1641, and held till the 4th of March, 1642, when sir Phelim O'Neal, and the Irish miscreairts under him, were forced to retire. In the meantime 10,000 troops were sent from Scotland to the re- lief of the remaining protestants in Ireland, which being properly di- vided into various parts of the kingdom, happily suppressed the power of the Irish savages; and the protestants, for several years, lived in tranquillity. After James II. had abandoned England, he maintained a contest for some time in Ireland, where he did all in his power to carry on that persecution which he had been happily prevented from per- severing in, in England: accord- ingly, in a parliament held at Dublin, in the year W60, great numbers of the protestant nobility, clergy, and gentry of Ireland, were attainted of high treason. The government of the kingdom was, at that time, invested in the earl of Tyrconuel, a bigoted pa- pist, and an inveterate enemy to the protestants. By his orders they were again persecuted in va- rious parts of the kingdom. The revenues of the city of Dublin were seized, and most of the churches converted into prisons. And had it not been for the reso- lution and uncommon bravery of the garrisons in the city of Lon- donderry, and the town of Innis- killen, there had not one place re- mained for refuge to the dis- tressed protestants in the whole kingdom; but all must have been given up to king James, and to the furious popish party that governed him. The remarkable siege of Lon- donderry was opened on the 18th of April, 1689, by 20,000 papists, the flower of the Irish army. The city was not properly circum- stanced to sustain a siege, the de- fenders consisting of a body of raw undisciplined protestants, who had fled thither for shelter, and half a regiment of lord Mountjoy's disciplined soldiers, with the principal part of the in- habitants, making in all onl^'7361 fighting men. The besieged hoped, at first, that their stores of corn, and other necessaries, would be sufficient; but by the continuance of the siege their wants increased ; and these at last became so heavy, that, for a considerable time be- fore the siege was rai«5d, a pint of coarse barley, a small quantity of greens, a few spoonsful of starch, with a very moderate portion of horseflesh, were reckoned a week's provision for a soldier. And they were, at length, reduced to such extremities, that they ate dogs, cats, and mice. ■Their miseries increasing with the siege, many, through mere hunger and want, pined and lan- guished away, or fell dead in the 812 J300K OF MARTYRS. streets; and it is remarkable, that when their long-expected suc- cours arrived from England, they were upon the point of being re- duced to this alternative, either to preserve their existence by eat- ing each other, or attempting to fight their way through the Irish, which must have infallibly pro- duced their destruction. These succours were most hap- pily brought by the ship Mount- joy, of Derry, and the Phoenix, of Coleraine, at which time they had only nine lean horses left, with a pint of meal to each man. By hunger, and the fatigues of war, their 7361 fighting men were re- duced to 4300, one-fourth part of whom were rendered unservice- able. As the calamities of the be- sieged were very great, so like- wise, were the terrors and suffer- ings of their protestaut friends and relations; all of whom (even wo- men and children) were forcibly driven from the country 30 miles round, and inhumanly reduced to the sad necessity of continuing some days and nights, without food or covering, before the walls of the town; and were thus ex- posed to the continual fire both of the Irish army from without, and the .shot of their friends from Avithiw. But the succours from England happily arriving, put an end to their affliction; and the siege was raised on the 31st of July, having been continued upwards of three months. The day before the siege of Londonderry was raised, the Tn- niskilleners engaged a body of 6000 Iiish Roman Catholics, at Newton Butler, or Crown Castle, of whom near 5000 were slain. This, with the defeat at London- derry, so much dispirited the pa- pists, that they gave up all farther attempts at that time to persecute the prutestants. In the year following, 1690, the Irish who had taken up arms in favour of James II., were totally defeated by "William the Third; and that monarch, before he left the country, reduced them to a state of subjection, in which they very long continued, at least so far as to refrain from open vio- lence, although they were still in- sidiously engaged in increasing their power and influence; for, by a report made in the year 1731, it appeared, that a great number of ecclesiastics had, in defiance of the laws, flocked into Ireland ; that several convents had been opened by Jesuits, monks, and friars; that many new and pomp- ous mass-houses had been erected in some of the most conspicuous parts of their great cities, where there had not been any before; and that such swarms of vagrant, immoral Romish priests had ap- peared, that the very papists themselves considered them as a burden. But, notwithstanding all the arts of priestcraft, all the tumid and extravagant harangmg of Hiber- nian orators, and the gross and wilful misrepresentations of their self-styled liberal abettors in this country, the protestant religion now stands on a firmer basis in Ireland than it ever before did. The Irish, who formerly led an un- settled and roving life, in the woods, bogs, and mountains, and lived on the depredation of their neighbours; they Avho, in the morning seized the prey, and at night divided the spoil, have, for many years past, become compa- ratively quiet and civilized. They taste the sweets of English society, and the advantages of civil go- vernment. They trade in ^our ci- ties, and are employed in our ma- nufactures. The heads of their clans, and the chiefs of the great Irish fami- lies, who cruelly oppressed and ty- rannized over their vassals, are now dwindled, in a great measure, to nothing; and most of the an- cient popish nobility and gentry of Ireland have renounced the Ro- mish religion. It is also to be hoped, that in- estima4.)le benefits will arise from BURNING OF LONDON. 813 the establishment of piotestant schools in various parts of the kingdom, in which the children of the Roman Catholics are in- structed in religion and literature, whereby the mist of ignorance is dispelled, which was the great source of the cruel transactions that have taken place, at dillerent periods, in that kingdom; and this is sufficiently proved by the fact, that those parts of the country which have been disgraced by the most horrible outrages, are those in which the most profound igno- rance and bigotry still prevail. In order to preserve the pro- testant interest in Irelaoid upon a solid basis, it behoves all in whom power is invested, to discharge their respective duties with the strictest assiduity and attention; tempering justice with mercy, and firmness with conciliation. They should endeavour rather to gain the hearts of the people by kind- ness than to enslave them by fear; and to shew them that the minis- ters of the protestant religion are more estimable, instead of more powerful, than the Romish clerg-y. A single voluntary proselyte in worth a thousand converts to " the holy text of pike and gun." SECTION IV. Account of the jiorrid plot concerted by the papists, for destroying the city of london by fire, in the year 1666. Stimulated by revenge, and prompted by superstition, the pa- pists unceasingly turned their thoughts to obtain their long- wished-for purpose, the overthrow of the protestant religion, and the destruction of its adherents, in this island. Having failed in several efforts, they thought of a scheme for destroying the capital of the king- dom, which they flattered them- selves might greatly facilitate their intentions: but, although, unhappily, their diabolical scheme, in some measure, took place, yet it was not productive of the con- sequences they hoped and wished for. A great part of the city was, indeed, destroyed; the melancholy particulars of which we shall copy from the London Gazette, published at the time : " Whitehall, September 8, 1666. ** On the second instant, at one of the clock in the morning, there happened to break out a sad and deplorable fire, at a baker's, in Pudding-lane, near Fish-street, which falling out at that hour of the night, and in a quarter of the town so close built with wooden pitched houses, spread itself so far before day, and with such dis- traction to the iuhabitants aad neighbours, that car? was not taken for the timely preventing the further diffusion of it, by pull- ing down houses, as ought to have been; so that this lamentable fire, in a short time, became too big to be mastered by any engines, or working near it. It fell out most unhappily too, that a violent east- erly wind fomented it, and kept it burning all that day, and the night following, spreading itself up to Gracechurch-street, and down- wards from Cannon-street to the water-side, as far as the Three Cranes in the Vintry. ♦* The people, in all parts about it, were distracted by the vastness of it, and their particular care to carry away their goods. Many attempts were made to prevent the spreading of it, by pulling down houses, and making great inter- vals, but all in vain, the fire seiz- ing upon the timber and rubbishy and so continuing itself, even through those spaces, and /aging in a bright flame all Monti'ay and Tuesday, notwithstandii^;" his ma- jesty's own, and his royal higb- ness's indefatigable and personal pains to apply a[- possible reme- dies to prev^Pi it, calling upon, and help^g" ^^e people witli their guar-^> and a great number of no- »--iity ajad gentry unweariedly as- S14 BOOK OP Martyrs. sisting therein, for which they were requited with a thousand blessings from the poor distressed people. " By the favour of God, the wind slackened a little on Tues- day night, and the flames meeting with brick buildings at the Tem- ple, by little and little it was ob- served to lose its force on that side, so that on Wednesday morn- ing we began to hope well, and his royal highness never despairing, or slackening his personal care, wrought so well that day, assisted in some parts by the lords of the council before and behind it, that a stop was put to it at the Temple church ; near Holboru-bridge ; Pie-corner; Aldersgate; Cripple- gate ; near the lower end of Cole- nian-street; at the end of Basing- hall-street, by the Postern ; at the upper end of Bishopsgate-street, and Leadenhall-street; at the standard in Cornhill; at the church in Fenchurch-street; near Clothworkers'-hall in Mincing- lane; at the middle of Mark-lane, and at the Tower- dock. " On Thursday, by the blessing of God, it was wholly beat down and extinguished; but so as tliat evening it unhappily burst out again afresh at the Temple, by the falling of some sparks (as is sup- posed) upon a pile of wooden buildings; but his royal highness, who watched there that whole night in person, by the great la- bours and diligence used, and especially by applying powder to blow up the houses about it, be- fore day most happily mastered it. " His majesty then sat hourly in council, and ever since hath con- tinued making rounds about the city, in all parts of it where the dangei and mischief vsas the greatest, till this morning that he hath sent his grace the duke of Albemarle, -vhom he hath called for to assist If-n on this great oc- casion, to put hubappy and suc- cessful hand to th« finishing this memorable deliveranee. During the progress of tir- dreadful conflae;ration, orders were given for pulling down va- rious houses in the Tower of Lon- don, in order to preserve the grand magazine of gunpowder in that fortress; to the preservation of which, however, the violent easterly wind contributed more than the precaution. Many tliousands of citizens, who, by this calamity, were de- prived of their habitations, retired to the fi-elds, destitute of all ne- cessaries, and exposed to the in- clemency of the weather, till a sufficient number of tents or huts could be erected for their recep- tion. In order to mitigate the distresses of the people, his ma- jesty ordered a great quantity of naval bread to be distributed among them; and issued a pro- clamation, commanding the ma- gistrates of the city to encourage the bringing of all kinds of provi- sions. By the certificate of Jonas Moore and Ralph Gatrix, the sur- veyors appointed to examine the ruins, it appeared, that this dread- ful fire overran 436 acres of ground within the walls, and burnt 1.3,200 houses, 89 parish churches, be- sides chapels; and that only 11 parish churches within the walls were left standing. To this account of its devasta- tions may also be added the de- struction of St. Paul's cathedral, Guildhall, the Royal Exchange, Custom-house, and Blackwell- hall; many hospitals and libraries, 52 halls of the city companies, and a great number of other stately edifices; together with three of the city gates, and the prisons of Newgate, the Fleet, the Poultry and Wood-street Compters; the loss of which, by the best calcula- tion, amounted to upwards of ten millions sterling. Yet, notwith- standing all this destruction, only six persons lost their lives. Various were the conjectures of the people on the cause of this singular calamity: at first some imagined it to be casual, but, from a uojn of circumatances, it after- BURNING OF LONDON. 815 wards appeared to have been done from the 'malice and horrid contrivances of the papists. Se- veral suspected persons were taken into custody ; but, although there were very strong presump- tions, no positive proof being pro- duced against them, they \vere discharged. Thus did this diabolical scheme take place, in a great measure, to the wishes of the infamous con- trivers ; yet, instead of being pre- judicial, it was, in the end, pro- ductive of the most happy conse- quences to the metropolis. It certainly, for a time, occasioned the most poignant distress to the inhabitants, but it afforded an op- portunity that never happened be- fore, an-d, in all human probabi- lity, never may again, of restoring the city with more attention to uniformity, conveniency, and wholesomeness, than could be ex- pected in a town of progressive growth. The streets were before narrow, crooked, and incommo- dious; the houjses chiefly of wood, dark, close, and ill-contrived ; with their several stories project- ing beyond each other, as they rose, over the narrow streets. The free circulation of the air was, by these means, obstructed; and the people breathed a stag- nant unwholesome element, re- plete with foul eflhivia, sufficient to generate putrid disorders, and disposed to harbour any pestilen- tial taint it might receive. All these inconveniences were re- moved, by the streets being made wider, and the buildings princi- pally formed of brick ; so that if, either by accident or otherwise, a fire should happen in future, its progress might be soon stopped, and the direful consequences which generally arise from such circumstances rendered trifling. Besides those already men- tioned, the Fire of London was certainly productive of one advan- tage of the most valuable nature, jiamely, the extirpation of that contagious and destructive dis- temper, the plague, which, but the year before, had brought thou- sands to their graves. This hor- rible disease had made great de- vastation among the inhabitants, not only of the metropolis, but of different parts of the kingdom, at various periods; but its baneful influence has never been exerted in London, since tl>e great confla- gration, and there is therefore reason to conclude that this tem- porary calamity was employed by Providence as the means of con- ferring a permanent benefit on the inhabitants of this city, and of defeating the machinations of those miscreants who contrived so diabolical a method of revenge. To perpetuate the remembrance of this occurrence, a Monument was erected in that part of the city in the neighbourhood of which the fire began; and as it still re- mains in its original state, it may not be improper here to describe it. The Monument, which is a no- ble fluted column, is situated in a; small square, open to the street, on the east side of Fish-street- hill. It was designed by sir Christopher Wren, by whom it was begun to be erectetl in the year 1671, and thoroughly com- pleted by that great architect in 1077. It is esteemed the noblest modern column in the world ; and may, in some respects, vie with the most celebrated of antiquity, which are consecrated to the names of Trajan and Antoninus. This stately column, which is twenty-four feet higher than Tra- jan's pillar at Ronae, is built of Portland stone, of the Doric or- der, and fluted. Its altitude from the ground is 202 feet, and the diameter of the shaft, or body of the column, is fifteen feet. It stands on a pedestal forty feet high, the ground, plinth, or bot- tom of which, is twenty-eight feet square. Within is a staircase of black marble, containing 345 steps, each six inches thick, and ten inches and a half broad. Over the capital is an iron bal- HMi BOOK OF MARTYRS. couy, which 'encompasses a cone thirty-two leet hij^h, supporting a blazing urn of brass, gilt*. On the cap of the pedestal, at the angles, are four dragons (the sup- porters of the city arms), and be- tween them trophies, with symbols of regality, arts, sciences, com- merce, &c. The west side of the pedestal is adorned with curious emblems, by the masterly hand of Mr. Gibber, father to the poet laureate ; in which the eleven principal figures are done in alto, and the rest in basso relievo. The principal fi- gure, to which the eye is particu- larly directed, is a female, repre- senting the city of London, sitting in a languishing posture on a heap of ruins: her head appears reclining, her hair is dishevelled, and her hand lies carelessly on her sword. Behind is Time gra- dually raising her up; and at her side a woman, representing Pro- vidence, gently touching her with one hand, whilst, with a winged sceptre in the other, she directs her to regard two goddesses in the clouds; one with a cornucopia, signifying Plenty, and the other with a palm branch, denoting Peace. At her feet is a bee-hive, shewing, that by industry and ap- plication the greatest difliculties are to be surmounted. Behind Time are various citizens exulting at his endeavours to restore her ; and beneath, in the midst of the ruins, is a dragon, who, as sup- porter of the city arms, endeavours to preserve them with his paw. Opposite the City, on an elevated pavement, stands king Charles II., in a Roman habit, with a wreath * In the place of this urn, which was set up contrary to sir Christopher's opi- nion, it was originally intended to place either a colossal statue, in brass, gilt, of king Charles II., as founder of the new city, after the manner of the Roman pil- lars, which were terminated with the statues of their Ccesars; or a figure erect of a woman crowned with turrets, holding a sword and cap of maintenance, with other ensigns ,,f the city's grandeur and re-ereciion. of laurel on his head, and a Iruu- cheon in his hand; who, approach- ing the Citj', commands three of his attendants to descend to her relief: the first represents the Sci- ences, with wings on her head, and a circle of naked boys danc- ing upon it, holding Nature in her hand, with her numerous breasts ready to give assistance to all. The second is Architecture, with a plan in one hand, and a square and pair of compasses in the other. The third is Liberty, waving a hat in the air, and shewing her joy at the pleasing prospect of the City's speedy recovery. Behind the king stands his brother the duke of York, with a garland in one hand to crown the rising city, and a sword in the other for her defence. Behind him are Justice and Fortitude, the former with a coronet, and the lat- ter with a reined lion. In the pavement, under the sovereign's feet, appears Envy peeping from her cell, and gnawing a heart; and in the upper part of the back- ground, the reconstruction of the city is represented by scaffolding, erected by the sides of the unfi- nished houses, with builders and labourers at work upon them. On the east side of the pedes- tal is the following inscription, sig- nifying the times in which this pillar was begun, continued, and brought to perfection. *' Incepta Richardo Ford, Eq; praetore Lond. A. D. MDCLXXL perducta altius Geo. Waterman, Eq. P. V. Roberto Hanson, Eq. P. V. Gulielmo Hooker, P. V. Roberto Viner, Eq. P. V. Josepho Sheldon, Eq. P. V. perfecta Thoma Davis, Eq. P. V. urb. Anno Dom. MDCLXXVII." The north and south sides of the pedestal have each a Latin in- scription; one describing the de- BURNING OF LONDON. solation of the city, and llie otlier its restoration. That on the nortli side has been translated as fol- lows: " In the year of Christ 1666, the 2d day of September, eastward from hence, at the distance of two hundred feet, (the height of this column) a lire broke out about midnight, uhich, being driven on by a strong wind, not only wasted the adjacent parts, but also very remote places, with incredible noise and fury. It consumed eighty-nine churches, the city- gates, Guildhall, many hospitals, schools, and libraries ; a vast num- ber of stately edifices, above thir- teen thousand two hundred dwell- ing houses, and four hundred streets; of the twenty-six wards it destroyed fifteen, and left eight Sir others shattered, and half burnt. The ruins of the city were four hundred and thirty-six acres, from this pillar, by the Thames side, to the Temple-church; and, from the north-east side, along the City- wall, to Holborn-bridge. To the estates and fortunes of the citi- zens it was merciless, but to thcii lives very favourable; that it might in all things resemble the last conflagration of the world. The destruction was sudden; for in a small space of time the same city was seen most flourishing, and reduced to nothing. Three days after, when this fatal fire had baffled all human counsels and en- deavours in the opinion of all, it stopped, as it were by the will of Heaven, and was extinguished on every side." Assiissuuitwn of the triice of l>raiij;.-, bii Balttr.a rard. The translation of the inscrip- tion on the sooth side may be given thus : FOX'.S MARTYRS. " Charles the Second, son of Charles the Martyr, king-of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, De- 5^ 818 BOOK OF MARTYRS. fender of the Faith, a most gra- cious prince, commiserating the deplorable state of things, whilst the ruins were yet smoking, pro- vided for the comfort of his citi- zens, and the ornament of his city ; remitted their taxes, and referred the petitions of the magistrates and inhabitants to the parliament, who immediately passed an act, that public works should be re- stored to greater beauty with pub- lic money, to be raised by an im- position on coal; that churches, and the cathedral of St. Paul, sliould be rebuilt from their found- ations, with all magnificence ; that bridges, gates, and prisons should be new made, the sewers cleansed, the streets made strait and regu- lar, such as were steep levelled, and those too narrow to be made wider. Markets and shambles to be also enlarged, and situated in different parts of the city. That every house should be built with party walls, and all in front raised of equal height; that those walls should be of square stone or brick; and that no man should be longer than seven years build- ing his house. Anniversary prayers were also enjoined; and to perpetuate the memory thereof to posterity, they caused this co- lumn to be erected. The work was carried on with diligence, and London is restored; but whether with greater speed or beauty, may be made a question. In three years' time the world saw that fi- nished, which was supposed to be the business of an age." Under the beforementioned in- scriptions, in one continued line round the base of the pedestal, are the following words : " This pillar was set up in per- petual remembrance of the most dreadful burning of this protestant city, begun and carried on by the treachery and malice of the popish faction, in the beginning of Sep- tember, in the year of our Lord 1666, in order to execute their horrid plot to extirpate the pro- testant religion, and the old English liberty, and to introduce popery and slavery." This inscription, on the acces- sion of James, duke of York, to the throne, was immediately erased; but was restored again soon after the revolution. And the whole fabric is, at present, in the situation above described. .SECTION V. LIFE AND DUATII OF SIR EDMUNDBURY GODFREY; WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE POPISH AND MEAL-TUB PLOTS. Before we describe the horrid machinations of the papists against the English government, and the protestant establishment, we shall give some account of the life of sir Edmundbury Godfrey, whose zeal for the truth of the gos- pel, and assiduity in discharging the dutips of his magisterial office, were the principal causes of his meeting with that fate he so little deserved. This great and good man was descended from an ancient and respectable family in the county of Kent, who gave him an educa- tion suitable to his birth and qua- lity. He received the first rudi- ments of learning at "Westminster school, and finished his studies at the university of Oxford. In order to improve himself still more, he travelled into foreign countries, and, during his resi- dence there, was as ■ oiarefu! to avoid immorality, as he was to es- cape from the delusion of the false worship practised there. From the sound principles of religion and virtue which he had imbibed from his parents and instructors, he was sufficiently armed against both; and returned home rather informed than corrupted. On his return to England, he en- tered himself a member of Gray's Inn, where, by diligent applica- tion, he soon acquired a compe- SIR EDMUNDBURY GODFREY. 819 tent knowledge of the laws of his country. His iiitentiou was, to have obtained a situation at the bar ; but having a natural defect ID his hearing, he thought it would be an impediment to his pro?:ress; and, therefore, after coutinuiug some years at that Inn, he left it, and retired to his friends in the country. Being naturally of an active dis- position, he soon became weary of solitude, and determined to un- dertake some enterprise, in which his time might be usefully em- ployed. He accordingly left the country, and came to London, where he entered into partnership with a person who kept a wood- wharf near Dowgate. In this connexion he was very successful, his partner being nearly of the same disposition with him- self. By their joint attention to business, in the course of a few years they each acquired a very handsome fortune ; when Mr. Godfrey's partner marrying to ad- vantage, left the business entirely to him. Soon after this, Mr. Godfrey re- moved from Dowgate to Charing- Cross, where he continued to pro- secute business with the most un- remitting assiduity. The upright- ness of his dealings, and his fixed adherence to the strictest justice, made him universally beloved, and were the means of calling him to the exercise of a more public employment. He had, in a few years, acquired a very considerable fortune i>y his business, and being, from his dis- tinguished integrity, particularly noticed by some elevated person- ages, they represented his charac- ter to the king, who was pleased to appoint him one of the justices of peace for the county of Middle- sex, and city of Westminster; in which office he continued till his death. We are now to consider Mr. Godfrey in his magisterial charac- ter, in which he distinguished him- self with such integrity and jus- tice, as to acquire the particular notice of his sovereign, whi> fre- quently said, " he took him to be the best justice of peace iu his kingdom." What greater enco- mium than this, from a prince cer- tainly fully capable of forming a correct judgment, could be ex- pected or desired, to illustrate the merits of a worthy and deserving magistrate? But to shew that he was not un- deserving this royal encomium, we shall give a short but just cha- racter of him. He was naturally of a kind, courteous, and affable temper, free of access, and ready to hear the meanest persons, who either came on business, or to seek re- dress for injuries received from others. Civility and courtesy were the ornaments of his temper, the ground of which consisted in the administration of justice, and the practice of charitable actions. No person could be more punctual and exact than he, in discharging the duties of his office. He ren- dered to every man his right, and discreetly looked after his own. He preserved sound and orthodox principles, but was far from cen- suring those who differed from him in religious sentiments. Though he was most strict in re- proving and punishing greater enormities, yet he could charitably bear with the lesser infirmities of such, in whom a controuling virtue more eminently prevailed. In fine, though he had a warm regard to himself, and his own actions, yet he could bear in others far greater miscarriages than he al- lowed in himself: though lie al- ways frowned upon The froatless sinner, yet, such was his candour, he would not, if possible, put a modest transgressor to the blush. His charity was so truly Chris- tian and heroic, that in the prac- tice of it he did it with such pri- vacy, that his left hand was a stranger to what his right hand did. Few have more merited ap- plause in this respect than him- self, though none sought it less. Among other humane and chart- 890 BOOK OF MARTYRS. table actious, he allowed a poor, but religious family in Westmin- ster, lOi. per annum towards their support, and this annuity he con- tinned for several years. Though he was ever severe ap;ainst beggars and vagabonds, who refused to maintain them- selves by industry and labour, and lived altogether on the alms of others; yet he was so much a friend to those, whose poverty was neither occasioned by mis- conduct, nor aggravated by idle- ness, that they never went without relief, either by being employed, or receiving some charitable dona- tion. He was ever anxious to recon- cile diflerences between contend- ing parties; nor would he rest till he had accomplished his ends. He coveted not so much the tri- umph of the laurel as the shadow of the olive-branch. Moderation and peace were the proper ele- ments of his nature. Thus far have we considered Mr. Godfrey merely as a man; we shall now take some notice of him as a Christian, and a true follower of the pure gospel of Christ. But we cannot display his character on this head, more fully than is done by that learned prelate Dr. Lloyd, who p.sached his funeral sermon; and who, as by reason of his intimacy with him he had the greatest opportunity, so by his faculty he was the most capable to judge of him in this particular. His words are these: " As to those things which be- long to a private Christian, I ought to know him better than most others. And I did know that by him which gives me abundant comfort in his death. I knew him to be a ju«t and charitable man ; a devout, a zealous, and conscien- tious Christian. His religion was more for use than show. And yet he was constant in all the acts of God's worship, as well out of judgment as affection. And thongh the compassion that he had for all men that did amiss, ex- tended itself to all manner of dis- senters, and amongst them he had a kindness for the persons of many Roman Catholics; yet he always declared a particular hatred and detestation of popery. I say this on purpose to be rejmembered (be- cause some would have him a pa- pist, or inclined that way); I ne- ver pleased him with any duty I performed — at least, he never thanked me for any so much, as he did for those sermons which I preached against popery." Having said thus much with re- spect to the private character of Mr. Godfrey, as a man and a Christian; we shall now consider him in his more public capacity as a magistrate, in which province we shall notice such particulars, as may be most deserving the at- tention of the reader, and at the same time do justice to the merits of so great and good a man. Besides what we have before hinted of his abilities for this ser- vice, by his having been brought up a student in the laws of Eng- land, he was otherwise qualified for it, by having many natural en- dowments requisite to the compo- sition of a good magistrate. He had a deep and piercing judg- ment to search into the niceties and intricacies of such difficult bu- siness as he often met with, and to determine accordingly: an in- defatigable patience, mixed with a genuine serenity of mind, whereby he could bear with the clamours and impertinences of such as came before him, leisurely attending to the allegations both of appellants and criminals, and fully hearing whatever (and so long as) they had any thing in reason to ofler to him ; rather than the truth on either side should be undiscovered by any prejudicate forestalling of the evidence. He had a sound integrity of mind, the golden vein of all his actions: he was not to be corrupted by bribes, nor to be biassed by any sinister interests: he was plain and up- right, and regularly conformable to the strictest rules of justice and honesty in all the particular ad- SIR EDMUNDBURY GODFREY. 821 wimstrations of his province. To these qualities may be added, an heroic fortitude and invincible courage of mind, which was the shield of his other virtues, and by which he was defended a^^ainst all the difficulties and discouraa^e- ments he met with; keeping his ground with a steadfast upright- ness amidst such trials as persons of less courage than himself would have sunk, under. The following is a sufficient proof of the greatness of his mind, in daring to be just to himself, and of his wishes to eclipse the power of iniquity, though in the most ele- vated character. A great personage at court was indebted to him a considerable sum of money, for the payment of which he had frequently applied without receiving any other satis- faction than promises. Mr. God- frey, well knowing the ability of the person, and that liis pretences were but so many formal delays to defer the payment of that which, though justly due, he knew (by reason of his privilege) he could not in the ordinary course of law be troubled for, resolved, how- ever, to sue him at common law, (notwithstanding his said privi- lege) and rather trust to his ma- jesty's clemency for infringing on the privilege of his household, than suffer himself to be defrauded of a just debt by one who would make such a protection an asylum to that injustice which he knew his majesty would neither patronize nor allow. Accordingly, after again trying the former means without success, Mr. Godfrey got the courtier ar- rested by virtue of the king's writ, and a wnrrant thereon granted by the sheriff; and he was taken into custody till such time as he should give sufficient bail to answer the action. But instead of endea- vouring to do this, he insisted on his privilege, sent to Whitehall, and got an order for the commit- ment of Mr. Godfrey for breach of privilege. In consequence of this, Mr. Godfrey was taken into custody, and was to remain a prisoner till he should discharge the nobleman of the arrest. But this he per- emptorily refused, rather choos- ing to suffer a disagreeable re- straint, than to gratify the obsti- nacy of his adversary by a too easy compliance. Mr. Godfrey quietly submitted to his confinement for six days, at the expiration of which his ma- jesty, who had been informed of the circumstances of the case, or- dered his discharge. He was so well pleased with the magnani- mity and heroic disposition of Mr. Godfrey, that he not only par- doned the misdemeanour, but con- ferred on him the honour of knighthood; and, as a farther to- ken of respect, admitted him again into the commission of the peace, from which he had, by means of his adversary, been re- moved. The above is one instance of this great man's fortitude of mind, as well in daring dangers as bear- ing troubles; but a still more dis- tinguished one appears in his con- duct during the dreadful plague in 1C65; when the cities of London and Westminster were, in a man- ner, deserted by their inhabitants, and few left but such of the poorer sort, who had neither money nor friends to enable them to remove farther: when the arrows of the Almighty were scattered abroad in every corner: when almost every house was turned into a sepulchre, and epitaphed with the doleful in- scription of Miserere Domiiie, while the dead and living seemed buried together: when the fear of the contagion rendered the few in- habitants as unsociable to each - other, as they would have been with wild beasts in a wilderness, every man fearing to come near another, lest he should meet with his own executioner: when their very words were feared as bullets: when breath itself, the instrument of life in one, might be death to another as it passed from him. In fine, when death and danger filled €22 BOOK OF MARTYRS. a\l places, and turned the whole town into one universal scene of misery and mortality ; then it was til at this worthy magistrate shewed the greatest proofs of a true Chris- tian courage and resolution, in ad- venturing to stay for the public good, in all the greatest danger of this horrible contagion, when death, in various appearances, seemed ready to devour him, and which must have been the case, if his tutelar angel (assigned by Providence) had not preserved him to greater purposes. It was no unadvised forwardness, or injudicious temerity, that prompted him thus to hazard his life ; neither was it from any ad- vantagpous expectations : on the contrary, it arose purely from a just and conscientious regard to his duty, in the place where he knew (in the absence of his fellow ma- gistrates, who had fled from the danger) he might be instrumental, as well in preserving the lives, as the properties, of those who should be exposed both to the danger of the contagion, and the rapine of the wicked, the latter of whom frequently take advantage of such public calamities, by enriching themselves with the spoils of the deceased, to the great injury of the wretched survivors. For these ends, and these only, did sir Edmundbury Godfrey con- tinue in London during the whole time the pestilence raged : and such was his assiduity in endea- vouring to relieve the afflictions of the wretched inhabitants in his neighbourhood, that they consider- ed him as their guardian genius ; as the asylum and sanctuary of their distressed conditions. But the most just representation of his conduct, during this melancholy period, is given by that worthy prelate Dr. Lloyd, whom we have before quoted ; and whose words, on the occasion, are briefly as fol- low : " He was the man, (shall I say the only man of his place?) that stayed to do good, and did the j;nod he slaved for. iahall wc go about to 1 instance in particulars? It is im- possible, they are innumerable. It is easier to say, what good did he not, that Jay within the verge of his province ? His house was not only the seat of justice, but an hos- pital of charity, where, besides that relief which he commonly af- forded the poor, at other times, for the necessity of living, he now ex- tended his charity to give them physic, to preserve them from dy- ing, when they were in a more im- mediate danger by the contagion, than of starving: he was the man, (and where was there such another?) that, laying aside the grandeur of his circumstances, would familiarly visit his poor sick neighbours, and administer suitable relief to them: he was the man, that at that time durst venture himself into the very garrison of death, the Pest-house, (the ordering of which he took into his peculiar care and administra- tion) and there, amidst the deadly fumes that arose from their putrid sores, would he stand by the dis- eased lazars, and see them dress- ed, not denying them any relief or assistance that lay in his power to aftbrd them." His justice was no less remarka- ble than his charity, when there was any need of it, as many times there were, to right the dead, as well as to relieve the living ; of which the following is a singular instance: A profligate and unfeeling wretch had, for some time, made it a practice to rob the dead, notwith- standing the horror that is natural- ly concomitant to such actions. He went, in the dead of the night, to the cemeteries and church-yards, where, breaking up the silent clods, he sacrilegiously ransacked the graves, and pillaged thera with no more remorse than soldiers do their vanquished enemies in the field of Mar. He took from the bodies their apparel, the sheets, and other linen, in which they were in- terred, and decently covered, leav- ing their carcasses naked and ex- posed. This distinguished miticreuut had SIR EDMUNDBURY GODFREY. 833 practised his nocturnal and inhu- man depredations so long, and with such diligence, that he had filled a large warehouse with the spoils of the dead, iia was happily at length detected, i;;-d iaforaaation being given to si; Edniundbury Godfrey, he went, at. ^.ided by proper assist- ants, to tht place where he was informed thr floods were concealed, and seized ;hem. In the mean time, the criminal, having heard of the discovery, lied; and being hardened against the fear of infec- tion by his great familiarity with the dead, he took sanctuary in the Pest-house, where he thought him- self sufficiently secure. This, in- deed, might have been the case, had it not been for the magnani- mity of the intrepid magistrate. The officers that attended him, and to whom warrants were directed for apprehending the criminal, de- clined the service ; on which the noble knight himself, a« a pattern of distinguished but seasonable courage, and from his great zeal for justice, ventured to go to the fatal place, where he immediately seized the offender, and delivered him into the hands of the officers, in order to be secured for examina- tion at a convenient opportunity. The next day he was brought be- fore the magistrate, where the facts being clearly proved by seve- ral witnesses, in order to make a proper example of so great a villain, and to prevent others from follow- ing his example, sir Edmundbury pronounced the following sentence, as being most suitable to the na- ture of his crime : that he should be taken to the church-yard, where he had perpetrated the greater number of his villanies, and after being stripped naked to the waist, should be severely scourged round the place by the beadle of the parish. This sentence was accord- ingly executed in the presence of a great number of spectators, who had assembled to see so remarkable a punishment. So hardened was this wretch, and so insensible to shame, that instead of being affected either for the crimes he had committed, or at the punishment inflicted, he medi- tated revenge against the worthy magistrate, and formed the horrid resolution of depriving him of his existence. To effect this, he one evening lay in wait for him at the corner of a street by which he knew he must pass. As soon as sir Edmundbury appeared, the villain struck at him with a cudgel, on which the knight immediately drew his sword, and defended himself for a considerable time. At length, with the assist- ance of some people who came that way, the ruffian was secured, and committed to Newgate for trial the ensuing sessions at the Old Bailey. Of this oOeuce he was ac- quitted, but several other indict- ments appearing against him for felony, he was capitally convicted, and received sentence of death. By the interposition of the court his sentence was remitted to that of transportation, when following the like wicked practices abroad that he had done at home, he was there convicted of a criminal fict, and not meeting with the same lenity, suffered that punishment his infamy merited. From a strict attention to busi- ness, and the natural fatigue con- sequent thereupon, sir Edmund- bury Godfrey, in the year 1678, became so reduced by bodily ill- ness, that his life was apparently in danger. He was therefore ad- vised, by his phj-sicians, to go to Mont-pellier, in France, the air of that country being esteemed an al- most certain restorative to decayed constitutions. He accordingly took their advice, and after residing there a few months, returned to England greatly benefited by his excursion. But the pains he thus took to preserve that life, which had hither- to been so remarkably beneficial to great numbers of his fellow crea- tures, were all K)st by a most horrid plot, which was discovered soon after his return, and which exposed him to an untimely and cruel death. S14 BOOK OF MAirrVHS. This horrid conspiracy was I'oini - <•(! by the papists, and is distin- gMiishcd in the annals ol' Ensjlatid by the name of the Popish Plot. It M'as said that the design ol" the conspiracy was, to kill the king, to subvert the government, to extir- pate the protestant religion, and to establish popery. The authors and promoters of this plot were said to be the pope and cardinals, the Romish, French, Spanish and English Jesuits, the seminary priests in England, who at this time came over in great numbers, and several popish lords, and others of that party. The duke of York himself was deeply sus- pected of being concerned in it, except that part of killing the king; and that point excepted, the king himself was supposed to have fa- voured the conspiracy. The arti- cle of taking off the king appeared to be only the project of a part of the conspirators, to make way for the duke of York to ascend the throne, who was more forward, active, and less fearful than the king, and consequently more likely to bring the grand design of the conspiracy, the changing the go- vernment and religion, to a spee- dier conclusion. The chief discoverer of this con- spiracy was one Titus Gates, who had formerly been a clergyman of the church of England, but hod now reconciled himself to the church of Rome, or at least pre- tended so to do, and entered into the number of the English semi- narists at St. Oraer's. He also went into Spain, and was admitted to the counsels of the Jesuits. By these means he became acquainted with all the secret designs that were carrying on, in order to es- tablish popery in this nation : and then returning to England, he di- gested the several matters he had heard into a narrative, and by the means of Dr. Tonge, a city divine, got a copy of it delivered to the king, who referred him to the lord treasurer Dauby. These two informers, finding the king did not take much notice of their discovery, resolved to com- municate it to the parliament ; previous to which Gates went and made oath of the truth of the nar- rative before sir Edmundbury God- frey, leaving one copy of it with him, and reserving another for himself. The affair having now taken wind, it was resolved to bring it before the council, who accordingly sat twice a day for a considerable pe- riod to examine into it ; and Tonge and Gates had lodgings assigned them inWhitehall, with a handsome allowance to each for their main- tenance, and a guard for the secu- rity of their persons. Gn their informations several persons were apprehended, parti- cularly one Wakeman, the queen's physician, and Coleman, the duke of York's secretary. In the latter's house were found several letters which seemed to concur withGates's testimony, and gave great weight to what he advanced. This, with the murder of sir Edmundbury Godfrey soon after, who had taken Gates's oath to his narrative, con- firmed the people in their belief of the plot. Sir Edmundbury Godfrey had been remarkably active in his of- fice against the papists, to whom his murder was immediately ascrib- ed: and the truth was confirmed by the evidence of Bedloe and Prance ; the latter of whom de- posed, that, " after sir Edmund- bury had several days been dogged by the papists, they at last accom- plished their wicked design, on Saturday, Gctober 12, 1678, and under pretence of a quarrel, which they knew his care for the public peace would oblige him to prevent, about nine o'clock at night, as he was going home, got him into the Water -Gate at Somerset-House. When he was thus trepanned in, and got out of hearing from the street, toward the lower end of the yard. Green, one of the assassins, threw a twisted handkerchief round his neck, and drew him behind the rails, when three or four more of them immediately falling on hiro, POPISH PLOT. 825 ihei'e lliey Uiroitled liiin ; and lest that should not be enough, punch- ed and kicked bim on the breast, as SJifficiently appeared,when his body was found, by the marks upon it ; and lest he should not be yet dead enough, another of them, Girald, or Fitzgerald, would have run him through, but was hindered by tiie rest, lest the blood should have discovered them. But Green, to njake sure work, wrung his neck round, as it was found afterwards on the inspection of the surgeons. "For the disposal of the body, they all carried it up into a little chamber of Hill's, another of the murderers, who had been, or was. Dr. Godwin's man, where it lay till Monday night, when they re- moved it into another room, and thence back again till Wednesday, when they carried him out in a se- dan about twelve o'clock, and af- terwards upon a horse, with Hill behind him, to support him, till they got to Primrose-Hill, or, as it is called by some, Green-Bury Hill, near a public-house, called tke White House, and there threw him into a ditch, with his gloves and cane on a bank near him, and his own sword run through him, on purpose to persuade the world he had killed himself. Very cunning- ly making choice of a place to lay him where they might both think he would be some time concealed, and near where he had been seen walking the same day." The body was accordingly found there seve- ral days afterwards. Thus died that good man, and wise magistrate, sir Edraundbury Godfrey, who fell a martyr to the diabolical machinations of some wicked and blood-thirsty papists. His body was interred with great solemnity in the church of St. Martin in the Fields ; and he was attended to the grave by an incre- dible number of lamenting specta- tors. This horrid conspiracy engaged the whole attention of the parlia- ment, who addressed the king tore- move all popish recusants out of the cities of London aud Westminster, and from within ten miles of them : aud in another address they be- sought his majesty to take care of his royal person; that he would command the lord - mayor, and lieutenancy of London, to appoint proper guards of the trained bands during the sitting of parliament; and that the lords-lieutenants of the counties of Middlesex and Surry should appoint sufficient guards in 31iddlescx, Westminster, andSouth- wark. The houses attended to no other business but this plot ; and so warm- ly did they enter into the matter, that several days they sat from morning till night examiningOates, and other witnesses. At length, on the 31st of October, 1678, they unanimously resolved, " that the lords aud commons are of opinion, that there hath been, and still is, a damnable and hellish plot, contriv- ed and carried on by popish recu- sants, for assassinating and mur- dering the king, for subverting the government, and rooting out and destroying the protestant religion." These opinions were farther con- firmed by a circumstance which happened soon after ; for, about the beginning of May, 1679, the citizens discovered a plot, formed by the Jesuits and other papists, for destroying the cily of London a se- cond time by fire. One Elizabeth Oxley, a servant in Fetter-lane, having set fire to her master's house, was apprehended and com- mitted to prison, when she con- fessed the fact, and declared, that she had been hired to do it by one Stubbs, a papist, who was to give her five pounds as a reward. Stubbs being immediately secur- ed, confessed that he had persuad- ed her to it ; but that he himself had been prevailed on by one father Giflord, his confessor, who, he said, assured him, that instead of its being a sin, it would be a great service to the " Holy Catholic Church," to burn and destroy all the houses of heretics ; saying, that he had conversed many times on that affair with Gifford, and two Irishmen. And the maid and 826 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Stubbs jointly declared, that the papists inteudcd to rise in London, in expectation of being assisted by a powerful army from France. Soon after this, a prosecution being commenced against several of the Jesuits who were concerned in the plot, five of them were con- victed and executed; and several lords being also impeached of the same, were committed prisoners to the Tower. The parliament meeting on the 21st of October, the lord Stafford, who was one of those impeached of being concerned in the popish plot, was brought to his trial ; and being convicted of high-treason, received sentence to be hanged and quarter- ed. The king, however, as is usual in such cases, remitted this sen- tence, and left Stafford to be beheaded ; but the zeal of the two sherifls of London started a doubt as to the king's power of miti- gating the sentence in any part. They proposed queries on this point to both houses ; the peers deemed them superfluous ; and the commons, apprehensive lest an examination into these queries might produce the opportunity of Stafford's escape, expressed them- selves satisfied with the manner of execution, by severing his head from his body. THE MEAL-TUB PLOT. In a very short time after the bcforementioned conspiracies, a sham plot was discovered to have been formed by the papists, in or- der to throw off the odium they had justly acquired, and to place it on the presbyterians. One Dangerfield, a fellow who had suflered almost every punish- ment the law could inflict on the most abandoned, was tutored for the purpose. The Catholic party released him out of Newgate, where he was imprisoned for debt, and set him to work. He pretend- ed to have been privy to a design for destroying the king and the royal family, and converting the <;ovcr;inicnt into a commonwealth. The king and hh brother counte- nanced the tale, and rewarded him, for his discovery, with a sum of money; but certain papers which he produced in evidence of his as- sertions appearing, upon his exa- mination, to be forged by himself, he was put under an arrest. All his haunts were ordered to be searched ; and in the house of one Mrs. Collier, a midwife, a Roman Catholic, and an intimate acquaint- ance of his, was found the model of the pretended plot, written very fair, neatly made up in a book, tied with a riband, and concealed in a meal-tub, from whence it acquired the name of the Meal-Tub Plot. Dangerfield, finding himself thus detected, applied to the lord- mayor, made an ample confession of the imposition, and discovered his employers. The detection of this contrivance so irritated the populace in general against the papists, that it added much to the whimsical solemnity of burning the effigy of the pope ; for, on the 17th of November, the anni- versary of queen Elizabeth's acces- sion to the throne, the ceremony was performed with the most singu- lar pomp and magnificence ; and every mark was shewn by the peo- ple, that could demonstrate their abhorrence of popery. Thus were all these diabolical schemes, projected by the papists to injure the protestants, happily rendered abortive ; but we must not quit this section without taking notice, that, on the accession of James II. to the English throne, the famous Titus Oates, who was so materially concerned in the dis- covery of the popish plot, was tried for perjury on two indictments ; and being found guilty, was sen- tenced to be fined one thousand marks for each ; to be whipped, on two diiierent days, from Aldgate to Newgate, and from Newgate to Tyburn ; to be imprisoned during life, and to stand on tlse pillory five times every year. Ke made the most solemn appeals to heaven, and the strongest protestations of the veracity of his testimony. The wliipping was so severe, that he MR. COLLEGE. 827 swooned several times, and it was evidently the design of the court to have put him to death by that punishment. lie was, however, enabled, by the care of his friends, to recover ; and he lived till Wil- liam III. came to the throne, when he was released from his confine- ment, and had a pension allowed him of lOOl. per annum. SECTION VI. PERSECUTIONS OF MANY EMINENT PROTESTANT PATRIOTS IN THE REIGNS OF CHARLES 11. AND JAMES 11.; WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE BARBARITIES OF JEFFREYS IN THE WEST OF ENGLAND. During the latter years of the reign of Charles the second, Eng- land was convulsed by the efforts of that monarch (who had been converted to Popery,) to attain ar- bitrary power, and the struggles of a patriotic band to defeat his nefa- rious designs, and to retain the con- stitution for which their fathers had fought and bled. They suc- ceeded in establishing several salu- tary checks on the royal preroga- tive, and their praiseworthy exer- tions became at length so obnoxious to the king, that he dissolved the parliament in a fit of passion, and determined from that time to rule by bis own sole authority. In this resolution he was supported by his brother, the duke oi York, whose known papistry had long rendered him an object of just suspicion to the nation ; by Louis XIV. king of France, to whom he had basely be- trayed the interests of this country for money ; and by a vile and pro- fligate herd of courtiers, who, slaves alike in mind and body, will- ingly assisted in the destruction of that freedom of which they were incapable of appreciating the ad- vantages. The king and his brother, thus upheld at home and abroad, deter- mined to take a severe revenge on those persons who had distinguish- ed themselves by their opposition to popery and tyranny; but as it was still necessary to preserve the forms of law, and the appearance of justice, various absurd stories of plots and assassinations were hatch- ed up, and sworn to by a gang of wretches destitute of every feeling of morality, and dead to every ob- ligation ol justice. We shall give the particulars of a few of thoac trials ; and the first we meet with is that of MR. COLLEGE, a carpenter, whose known zeal in the cause of religion and liberty had procured him the honourable ap- pellation of the Protestant Join- er. The following account of him we give as we find it, appended to a folio edition of our author. Mr. College being a man of cou- rage, industry, and sharpness, made it much of his business to serve his country, as far as possi- ble, in searching after priests and Jesuits, and hunting those vermin out of their lurking-holes, in which he was very serviceable and suc- cessful ; and for which, no doubt, they did not fail to reruember him. The first time we meet with him in public, is in lord Stafloid's trial, where he was brought in for Mr. Dugdale, as a collateral evidence. By that time the wind was upon the turn, and the tide of popular aversion not quite so strong against popery, being, by the cunning of our common enemy, diverted into little streams, and private factions, and arbitrary power driving on, as the best way to prosecute the de- signs of Rome ; to which the city of London in particular made a vigorous resistance; which dis- pleasing the grand agitators, no wonder they endeavoured, as much as possible, to do it a mischief ; their kindness to it having been sufiicieutly experienced in 1666, and ever since. In order to which the king was pleased, by the ad- vice of his brother, to alter the common and almost constant coarse of parliaments, and call one at Oxford instead of London. Many of the members, and especially 828 BOOK OF MARTYRS. those for London, were apprehen- sive of some design upon them there, having formerly in the gun- powder treason, and ever since, sufficiently found the love of the papists to protestant parliaments, and knowing well what they were to expect from their kindness, if they should be attacked by them and found defenceless. And more ground of suspicion they had, be- cause, as College protests in his speech, there had been affidavits judicially made of a design formed against them, and their being re- moved from the city of London, which had always so much of the English blood in it, as heartily to love parliaments, and to venture all for their defence, strengthened their suspicions ; and from these reasons, it was, that several of the parliament men went accompanied with some of their friends, well armed and accoutred, to Oxford; of this number Mr. College was one, he waiting on the lords Clare, Paget, and Huntingdon to Oxford; where the parlianieut, foreseeing what has since happened, would have gone on where they left off in the former sessions, which causing great heats, they were abruptly dissolved, not long after their meet- ing. In addition to the heinous oflence of having gone to Oxford, Mr. College had been, as he de- clares in his speech, a great sup- porter of parliament on all occa- sions, from whence, as mentioned above, he got that popular name of the Protestant Joiner. All these reasons together were more than enough to get him taken out of the way ; and for the per- formance thereof, Heins, and Mac- namarra, and one or two of the apostate evidence of the popish plot, informed against him. Nor is it a wonder that after so many attempts, some of these men should be prevailed with to prove false ; but rather, that under so many temptations any of them resisted, or were not sooner villains. These persons swore such mad things against him, of taking Whitehall, and pulling the king out of it, and such other odd wild stories, that partly from the ill-character of the persons who witnessed, the jury in London refused to find the bill, but returned it Ignoramus. On which, contrary to all justice and prece- dent, law and common reason, which forbid that a man should be twice put in danger of his life for the same offence, the business was removed to Oxford, where the lit- tle civility or common justice he met with in his trial, was then no- torious to all the world ; a person being checked, for giving him but assistance and notes in the way of his calling, to make his defence when his life was engaged ; yet though even those notes were de- nied him, none that heard the trial, or so much as read it, but must grant, that he made a very extraor- dinary defence, and much more than could have been expected from a man of more learning. But he might have spared all his la- bour; the conclusion was, no doubt, resolved upon before, and he was found guilty, sentenced, and executed. If we reflect yet further on the manner of bis trial, and not look on any others, one would be apt to think it was impossible a man could be destroyed with more injustice and barbarity than he was; or that twelve men, who pretended to be Christians, could be found out, who would hang a man upon such evidence as was given against him. When a criminal shall be kept close prisoner in the Tower, with- out having sufficient means to make his defence, till he come to his trial ; when, as has been said, he shall be rifled of his notes, by which only he could save his life, on which he depended, and just be- fore he came to his trial, though as- sisted therein by that very counsel assigned by the court for him ; when he shall in vain demand them again, and call heaven and eartb to witness, that he is merely cheat- ed of his life for want of them ; when all his redress is such a frivo- lous excuse, as not only a judge, but any honest man, would be MR, COLLEGE. 8%9 asliamed to make use of; viz. that it was somebody else did it, that the court had them not, nor did take them Irom him ; when the very person stood by who robbed him of them, and yet he could have no reparation ; when the kingj's counsel must whisper the chief justice on the bench, and the court must be adjourned, on pur- pose to examine those minutes which the poor man had got to- gether to save his life, and even from them to get an opportunity of taking it away, altering the manner of their prosecution, strengthening and bolstering their evidence against him, were not only such as an honest London jury would not believe, (though acountry one, di- rected by the king's counsel, could make a shift to do it,) but were every one of them, who wit- nessed any thing material, con- founded by such home evidence, as, if any thing in the world could do it, did certainly invalidate and an- nul their testimonies ; when one of them swears horridly, he cared not what he swore, nor whom he swore against, for it was his trade to get money by swearing ; that the parliament was a company of rogues for not giving the king money, but he would help him to money out of the fanatics' estates, which is explained by what Smith says. That if the parliament would not give the king money, but stood on the bill of exclusion, it was pre- tence enough to swear a design to seize the king at Oxford : when this same Heins very pleasantly says, It was a judgment upon the king and the people, and the Irish- men's swearing against them was justly fallen on them, for ousting the Irish of their estates : when others of them swear, That since the citizens deserted them, they would not starve ; that they would have College's blood ; that though they had gone against their con- sciences, it was because they had been persuaded to it, and could get no money else ; and when they had said before, they believed College had no more hand in any conspira- cy against his majesty, than the child unborn : when they would have hired others to swear more into the same plot : when the bench was such just and kind counsel for the prisoner, as to tell the jury, the king's witnesses were on their oaths, the prisoner's not, and so one to be credited before the other; in which case it is impossible for any man living to make a defence against a perjured villain: lastly, when the prisoner himself very weightily objected. That there was no proof of any person being con- cerned with him in the design of seizing the king ; and it was wise- ly answered. That he might be so vain to design it alone ; a thousand times more romantic and improba- ble than an army's lying conceal- ed at Knightsbridge, and of the same stamp with Drawcansir's kill- ing ail on both sides: taking all these things together, hardly ever was a man at this rate bantered out of his life, before any judica- ture in the world, in any place or age that history has left us. Nor ought the great service he did to the nation in general to be ever forgotten; since, notwith- standing all the disadvantages he was under, the public stream run- ning so violently against him and his witnesses, and the surprise which such strange treatment might cast him into, he yet made so strong a defence, by shewing what sort of witnesses were brought against him, that he hin- dered them ever after from being believed, and thereby certainly saved many others' lives, though he could not save his own. Nor can the undaunted courage, and firm honesty of the man, be sufficiently admired; since, be- sides what he shewed in his de- fence, after he was condemned, as he himself said, " as good as with- out a trial," he boldly asked. When he was to be executed? without the least seeming concern. And though he had considerable time before his execution to con- sider of it, he refused to save his life so meanly, as to make other «so BOOK OF MARTYRS. innocent men's lives the price of his own; withont which desi?:n his enemies had hardly been so kind as to have given him so long a re- prieve. As for his behaviour at his exe- cation, it was such as convinced more than a few of his greatest enemies, and made them enter- tain a much better opinion of him than before. From his last speech we shall remark several passages, as another argument of his innocence. But before we proceed any further in them, it will be needful to fix one asser- tion, which we may presume very few unprejudiced persons will deny, and which we shall have oc- casion to make further use of. It is, That no protestant, who be- lieves a heaven and hell, and is not a man without principles, or debauched and atheistical, would go out of the world, into the pre- sence of that God who must judge him, -with a lie in his mouth. This none will deny, but those who have a great kindness for the pa- pists; and yet of all men in the world such as these must not offer to do it, since it was the very ar- gument they made use of for the innocence of the Jesuits and other traitors. Though on that side we know there are unanswerable ar- guments not to believe them; their religion recommending perjury, and all sorts of villauies, to them as meritorious, when holy church is concerned. Their church be- sides allows them dispensations before, and absolution after, and purgatory at the worst, whence a few masses would fetch them out again. Things being thus, what can any man of modesty say to Mr. College's protestations over and over, both in prison, and at his death, That he was perfectly inno- cent of what he died for? "I did deny it then," says he, that is, be- fore the council, " and do deny it upon my death : I never was in any kind of plot in my days; and if 1 had any such design as these have sworn against me, T take God to witness, as I am a dying man, and on the terras of my salvalion, I know not one man upon the face of the earth which would have stood by me." Thus died Mr. College, whose blood, as he himself desired it might, sufficiently spoke the jus- tice of his cause, and who seemed, in his speech, to have some prophetic intimations, that his blood would not be the last which must be shed to satisfy the cravings of tyranny and papistry. MURDER OF ARTHUR, EARL OF ESSEX. My lord of Essex had large in- terest, a plentiful estate, a great deal of courage, understood the world, and the principles and prac- tices of the papists, as well as any man, having been of several secret committees in the examination of the plot, for Avhich very reason there was as much necessity for his death as for that of sir Edmund- bury Godfrey. He was, beside all this, of inflexible honesty, and so true a greatness of mind, that they could no more expect to gain him, than heaven itself, to be on their side. Accordingly, his throat was cut in the Tower the 13th of July, 1683, about eight or nine in the morning, and this was reported at Andover, 60 miles from London, on the 11th of July, the first day of his imprisonment, and was told to a person travelling on the road near the same place, which was witnessed before even Jeffreys, in a public court of judicature. The manner in which the murder was hushed up, must likewise strength- en suspicion : a deputy coroner was present at the inquest, instead of a legal one ; none of the de- ceased's relations attended the in- quest ; the body was removed from the place where it was first laid, stripped, the clothes taken away, the body and rooms washed from the blood, and the clothes de- nied to be shown to the jury. The principal witnesses examined were only Bomeny his man, and Russel his warder, who might be justly LORD WILLIAM RUSSEL. 831 suspected of beini^ privy to, if not actors in the murder. Tlie jury hastened and hurried the verdict, when so great a man, a peer of the realm, and the king's prisoner was concerned. And all this at a time when the lord Russei was to be tried for a share in the plot, in which the earl of Essex was also accused of being concerned ; and when the news of his suicide, as pretended, was instantly, with so much diligence, conveyed from the Tower to tlic Sessions-House, bench, bar, and jury, and harped upon by the lord Howard just then, and by others in after-trials, as more than a thousand witnesses, and the very finger of God. After this, the very centinel, who that day stood near the place, was found dead in the Tower-ditch, and captain Hawley barbarously mur- dered down at Rochester ; and all methods used to prevent the truth from coming to light. Mr. Brad- don was harassed, prosecuted, im- prisoned,and fined for stirring in it. On the fair and impartial consider- ation of these things, which are all notorious facts, granted by all sides, what can a man conclude from the whole, but — That this no- ble lord was certainly murdered by the popish party? But there is yet more evidence : If he could not murder himself in that manner, who then should do it but those on whom the guilt of it has been just charged? His throat was cut from one jugular to the other, both the jugulars being thoroughly divided. How could any man, after the prodigious flow of blood which must necessarily follow ou the dividing one jugular, as well as all those strong muscles which lie in the way, bow could he ever have strength to go through, all round, and come to the other, without fainting? Lastly, His character makes it morally impossible that he should be guilty of such an action. TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF WILLIAM LORD RUSSEL. The next who fell under their cruelty, and to whose death that of Essex was but a prologue, was lord Russei; without all dispute one of the finest gentlemen that ever Eng- land bred; and whose pious life and virtue was as much treason against the court, by afl'ronting them with what was so much hated there, as any thing else that was sworn against him. His family was ancient, and early enemies to the Romish superstition, though this brave nobleman only suffered for the offences of his ancestors. His first offence, as he himself says, in his last speech, was his earnestness in the matter of the exclusion of the duke. He began sooner than most others to see into the danger we were in from popery, and all those fatal consequences which have since happened; and describ- ed them plainly, and almost pro- phetically. He was arrested, imprisoned in the Tower, and brought to his trial on the 13th of .July, 1683, at the Old Bailey, for high treason. He earnestly desired that he might have respite, and not be tried that day, since he had some witnesses that could not be in town till the night: but his enemies were in such post haste, and so eager for his blood, that they would not stay so much as till the afternoon, pre* tending it was against precedent, and they could not do it without the attorney general's consent; though it is notorious, that on seve- ral or.casions it had been done, and the trial been postponed, even till the following sessions. When he found he must expect neither favour nor justice, as to the delaying of his trial, he excepted against the foreman of the jury, be- cause not a freeholder; which was also over-ruled and given against him ; though that practice has been since declared and acknowledged one of the great grievances of the nation. On the king's counsel opening the evidence, the first says, "He was indicted for no less than con- spiring the death of the king's ma- jesty ; and that in order to the same, he and others did meet and con- •32 BOOK OF MARTYRS. spire together, to bring our sove- rei£?n lord the king to death, to rajse war and rebellion against him, and to massacre his subjects ; and in order to compass these wicked de- si'^ns, being assembled, did con- spire to seize the king's guards, and his majesty's person: and this (he tells tiie_ jury) is the charge against him." The attorney general melts it a little lower, and tells them, the meaning of all these tragical words " was, a consult about a rising, about seizing the guards, and re- ceiving messages from the earl of Shaftesbury concerning an insur- rection." Nor yet does the proof against Lira come up so high even as this, though all care was used for that purpose, and questions put very frequently to lead and drive the evidence ; only one of them witnessing to any one point. The first of the witnesses was Colonel Rumsey, who swore, That he was sent with a letter from lord Shaftesbury, who lay conceal- ed at Wapping, to meet lord Rus- sel, Ferguson, &c. at Shepherd's, to know of them what resolution they were come to concerning the rising designed at Taunton. That when he came thither, the answer made was, Mr. Trenchard had fail- ed them, and no more would be done in that business at that time. That Mr. Ferguson spoke the most part of that answer ; but my lord Russel was present, and that he did speak about the rising of Taun- ton, and consented te it. That the company was discoursing also of viewing the guards, in order to surprise them, if the rising had gone on ; and that some undertook to view them ; and that the lord Russel was by, when this was un- dertaken. But this being the main hinge of the business, and this wit- ness not yet coming up to the pur- pose, they thought it convenient to give him a jog, to refresh his me- mory, by asking him, Whether he found lord Russel averse, or agree- ing to it ? To which he answered. Agreeing. But being afterwards asked, Whether he could suea? positively, that my lord Russel heard the message, and gave any answer to it? All that he says is this. That when he came in, they were at the fire-side, but they all came from the fire-side to hear what he said. AH that Shepherd witnessed, was, That my lord Russel, &c. be- ing at his house, there was a discourse of surprising the king's guards; and sir Thomas Armstrong having viewed them when he came thither another time, said, They were rendss, and the thing was seizable, if there were strength to do it ; and that upon being questioned too, as Rumsey before him. Whether my lord Russel was there ? He says, he was, at the time they discoursed of seizing the guards. The next witness was LoitD Howard, who very artificially be- gan in a low voice, pretending to be so terribly surprised with my lord of Essex's death, that his voice failed him, till the lord chief justice told him, the jury could not hear him ; in which very moment his voice returned again, and he told the reason why he spoke no louder. After a long harangue of tropes and fine words, and dismal general stories, by which, as lord Russel complained, the jury were prepos- sessed against him ; he at last made his evidence bear directly upon the point for which he came thither, and swore, That after my lord Shaftesbury went away, their party resolved still to carry on the design of the insurrection without, him; for the better management whereof they erected a little cabal among themselves, which did cotr- sist of six persons, whereof my lord Russel and himself were two : that they met for that purpose at Mr. Hampden's house, and there adjusted the place and manner of the intended insurrection : that about ten days after they had another meeting on the same busi- ness at my lord Russel's, where they resolved to send some persons to engage Argyle and the Scots ia LORD WILLIAM RUSSEL. 833 the desi|ifn, and beinj?' asked whether lord Russel said any thins, he answered, Tiiat every one knew him to bo a person of great jud;;- nient, and not very lavish of dis- eonr.sc. But being again goade and with Dr» S38 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Tillotson's assistance; and em- bracing him and Dr. Burnet, he submitted to the fatal strokes, for the executioner took no less than three before he could sever his head, which when it was held up, as asaal, there was so far from beinp any shout, that a hea\y e:roan was heard round the scaffold. His body was given to his friends, and conveyed to Cheneys in Buck- inghamshire, where it was buried among his ancestors. TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF WALCOT, HONE, AND ROUSE. Captain Walcot and his fellow sufferers, in order of time, should have been placed first, they being convicted before my lord Russel, and executed on the preceding day . But my lord Russel's fate having so immediate a dependence on that of the earl of Essex, it seemed more proper to begin with him. Captain Walcot was a gentleman of a considerable estate in Ireland, remarkable for the rare happiness of having eight children all at once living, but more so for his love to his country, which cost him his life. The pretended crime for which Walcot suffered, and which West and others witnessed against him, was, conspiring the death of the king, and to charge the guards, at his return from Newmarket, while a blunderbuss was to be fired into the coach by Rumbald, or some other. His privacy to discourses aboutthe king's death was but mis- prision. For his acting in it, they could not have fixed on a more unlikely man to command a party in so desperate an attempt as charg- ing the guards, than one who was sick and bed-ridden of the gout, as the captain frequently was. Nor doesWest's pretence, that he refus- ed to be engaged in the actual as- sassination,because of the baseness of it, but offered to charge the guards, while others did it, seem more probable. This he denies with indignation in his speech, and appeals to all that knew him whe- ther they thought him such an idiot, that he should not understand it was the same thing to engage the king's guards, while others killed him ; or to kill him with his own hands? West and Rumsey were the main pillars, and almost the only wit- nesses on whom the credit of that action depended, who appear throughout the great and almost sole managers thereof, and who accuse others of being concerned in it. What and how much their credit weighs, we have already hinted, butshall yetconfront it Avith further testimonies relating to this matter, and those of dying men, who could expect no pardon in this world, nor in the other, for a false- hood. Beside Rumbald's solemn protestation, Walcol, in his dying speech, as deeply afiirms, as a man can do, that " West bought arms for this villanous design without any direction, knowledge, or pri- vity of his." West says, in his an- swer to this, as well as in his evi- dence, that Walcot joined in the direction about the nature and size of those arms ; that he was very intimate and familiar with this Rumbald, who was to be the prin- cipal actor in the assassination. But Rumbald's death clears himself and Walcot, and shews what West is. ' West, or one of the other wit- nesses, talks of fifty n\en being en- gaged for the assassination. Now it is not easy to believe that there could be so many Englishmen found, and protestants too, who would consent to kill the king ; never any one having acknowledg- ed such a design, except Hone, Avho was so stupid, that he could not give one sensible answer to the questions asked him at his death ; so plain a testimony, and dint of fact and reason, leads to the con- clusion that the persons here charged were not guilty. And Rouse says, " he was told, they did not intend to spill so much as one drop of blood." In further confirmation of this, Holloway says, "he could not per- ceive that Ferguson know any tbinj? WALCQT, HONE, AND ROUSE. 839 of the Newmarket desiafu, but Rumsey aud West were deep in it." Again, having asked West who was to act the assassination ? "He could give but a slender answer, and could or would name but two men, Rumbald and liis brother ; and they had but few men, if more than two, and no horses, only a parcel of arms which he shewed at a gunsmith's.'' And at another tinje, " West only named Rumsey and Richard Goodenou^'h as con- cerned in the assassination, but none seconded him; Rumsey was for the old strain of killing the king, to which not one consented ; I could never find above five con- cerned in it. J heard Walcot speak against it, and knew Fergu- son to be against any such design." Upon the whole, we may con- clude, that the dying asseverations of three men, who had notiiing to hope from concealing the truth, are more worthy of belief than thetes- timbny of those whose sole hope of life depended on procuring the condemnation of others ; aud that this was the case, is evident from what West says in the paper writ- ten by him, " That he was still in danger of death, though not so imminent as it had been ; nor at tlie apparent point of death." And at the close of the paper, "If it shall please the king to spare my life for lay confession, it is a great hap- piness," &,c. From all which tliere lies a fair supposition of the innocence of this captain, and others, of what they were accused, found guilty, sen- tenced, aud died for ; it being on West's evidence, and such as his, that he and others were arraigned aud condemned ; the captain's de- fence being much the same with what he says in his speech. Captain Walcot denied any de- sign of ki41iug the king, or of en- gaging the guards, whilst others killed him ; and said that " the witnesses invited him to meetings, where some things were discoursed of, in order to the asserting our liberties and properties : which we looked upon to be violated and in vaded: That they importuned aud perpetually solicited hira, and then delivered him up to be hang- ed : That they combined together to swear him out of his life, to save their own: and that they might do it effectually, they contrived an un- trutii. That he forgave them, thouc>h guilty of his blood ; but witha! earnestly begged, that they might be observed, that remarks might be set upon them, whether their end be peace;" and he con- cluded, " That when God hath a work to do, he will not want in- struments." With him was tried Rouse, who was charged with such a parcel of mad romance, as was scarce ever heard of: and one would wonder how perjury and malice, which used to be sober sins, could ever be so extravagant as to think of it. He was to seize the Tower, pay the rabble, head the army, to be pay- master-general, and a great deal more beside. In his defence he says not much, but yet what looks a thousand times more like truth than his accusa- tion; that "the Tower business was only discourse of the possibi- lity of the thing, but without the least intent of bringing it to action ; that all he was concerned in any real design, he ha.d from Lee, and was getting more out of him, with an intention to make a discovery." But it seems Lee was before-hand with him, and saved his own neck. Hone was accused, and owns himself guilty of a design to kill the king and the duke of York, or one, or neither, for it is inii)ossi- ble to make any sense of him ; he was, in fact, either an idiot or a madman. When they came to suffer, W^al- cot read a paper, in which was a good rational confession of his faith ; he then comes to the occa- sion of his death ; " for which," he says, " he neither blames the judges, jury, nor counsel, but only some men, that in reality were deeper concerned than he, who combined together to 3wear him out of his life to save their own ; 840 BOOK OF MARTYRS. and tliat they might do it effectual- ly, contrived an untruth, &c. He forgives the world and the witness- es ; gives his friends advice to be more prudent than he had been ; prays that his may be the last blood spilled on that account ; wishes the king would be merciful to others ; says he knew nothing of Ireland, and concludes with praying God fo have mercy on him." He had then some discourse with the clergyman, wherein he told him, that " he was not for contriv- ing the death of the king, nor to have had a hand in it," and being urged with some matters of controversy, told him, " he did not come thither to dispute about religion, but to die religiously." Hone's behaviour on the scaffold was as ridiculous as on his trial. His replies to the clergyman were so incongruous, that scarcely any thing could be understood from them. But he talked of snares and circumstances, and nobody knows what, and said, at one time, he was to meet the king and duke of York, but he did not know when, where, nor for what. Directly after- wards he says, he was for killing the king, and saving the duke ; and when asked the reason, answered, " that he knew no reason ; that he did not know what to say to it." And when the dean charged him with the murderous design, he said, "that he knew as little of it as any poor silly man in the world." Rouse came next, gave an ac- count of his faith, professing to die of the church of England ; told his former employment and manner of life ; acknowledged he had heard of clubs and designs, but was never at them, and a perfect stranger to any thing of that nature. He then gave a relation of what passed be- tween him and his majesty on his apprehension ; talked somewhat of sir Thomas Player, the earl of Shaftesbury, " and accommodating the king's son," as he called it, though not while the king reigned; then spoke of Lee, and the dis- 4;oursc they had together, " who," ^5 be says, '« swore against hini on the trial those very words be him- self had used in pressing him to undertake the design ;" and after some discourse with the ordinary, gave the spectators some good counsel. Then they all three singly prayed ; and the sentence of the law was executed upon them. TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF ALGER- NON SIDNKY, ESQ. The next victim to popish cruelty and malice was colonel Algernon Sidney, of tlie ancient and noble family of the Sidneys, earls of Leicester, deservedly famous throughout Europe ; who, as has been observed, " was merely talked to death, under the notion of a commonwealth's man, and foand guilty by a jury who were not much more proper judges of the case, than they would have been had he wrote in Greek or Arabic." He was arraigned for a branch of this plot at Westminster, the 17tli of November, 168.3; where, though it cannot be said the grand jury knew not what they did, when they found the bill against him, since, no doubt, they were Avell instructed what to do ; yet it must be concluded, that they found it almost before they knew what it was, being so well resolved on the case, and agreed on their verdict, that had he been indicted for breaking open an house, or robbing on the highway, it was doomed to have been billa vera as much as it was now. For though the indict- ment was never presented to them before they came into the hall, yet they immediately found it ; the substance whereof was, " for a con- spiracy to depose the king, and stirring up rebellion, and writing a libel for that purpose." The most part of the evidence brought against him, was only hear-say, as was that against my lord Russel , nay. West, whose evidence was then refused, now was admitted to tell a long story of what he had heard from one and another. Rumsey's testimony was of much the same nature. lu the rear came that never-fail- ing evidence, the lord Howard, ALGERNON SIDNEY. 841 who swears lie wa.s one of tlie council of six, and engaged Hraon^• the di-cpest in their con- sultations. And more than this, Jie exercised his own faculty very handsomely, in an account of two speeches made hy Mr, Hampden on the occasion, which indeed were such fine things, that some might think it worth the while to swear against a man, only to have the reputation of reciting them. The next evidence was a paper, said to be of the prisoner's writing, which they found in his study. The substance of this was an in- «iuiry into the forms of government, and the reasons of their decay ; the rights of the people, the bounds of sovereignty, and the origin of power : in which were those heinous, treasonabl/i expressions, " the king is subject to the law of God as a man, to the people who made him such, as a king," &c. And examples were given of evil kings and tyrants, whom sometimes a popular ifury had destroyed ; at others, the ardincs regni either re- duced, or set them aside, when their government was a curse in- stead of a blessing to their people. There is surely no treason in all this, and none but the most violent partisans of divine riyht could have found any in'it. " If there were any mistakes," as lie says in his speech, " they ought io have been confuted by law, reason, and scripture, not by the scalibld and the ax." But, in the first place, it was not proved to be his writing, nor did he confess it ; treason and life are critical things : one ought to be as fairly proved, as the other to be cautiously proceeded against. Though he might write it, he had the liberty of an Englishman, not to accuse himself: the very same thing which was afterwards put in practice by those reverend persons, who, later than he, and cheaper too, defended their country's liberty ■with only the loss of their own. But, even allowing that he wrote it, how very few, if any things therein, are not now generally and almost universally beliefed, and are the foundation of the practice, and satisfaction of the conscience of every man, though then confuted with the single brand of " com- monwealth principles," being in- deed such as all the world must, whether they will or no, be forced into the belief of, as soon as op- pression and tyranny bear hard upon them, and become really insupportable ? It was suggested, and inuendoed, that this book was written to scatter among the people, in order to dis- pose them to rebel, as it is in the indictment. But how ridiculous that is, any one will see who con- siders the bulk of it, which was such, that, as he says in his speech, the fiftieth part of the book was not produced, uor the truth of that read, though he desired it, and it was usual ; and yet, after all, as it had never been shewn to any man, so it was not finished, nor could be in many years, being merely an answer to a book on government, published long before, and being never intended for publication, but kept privately in his study, till dragged forth by his prosecutors. Now is this a business likely to be calculated for a rebellion : when it could not be finished till several years after the disturbance was over ; and if it had, the bulk made it improper to be dispersed for that purpose for which it was pretended to be designed ? No ; those who are to poison a nation in that man- ner, take more likely ways. It is to be done in little pamphlets, and papers easily read over, understood and remembered. But still here being not a sylla- ble in these papers of king Charles, any more than of the king of Ban- tam, or the Great Mogul, against whom they might as well have made it treason ; it was all supplied by the inucndo, that is, in English, such interpretation as they would please to aftix to his words. Thus when he writes Tarquin, or Pepin, or Nero, they say he meant king Charles; and so, scandalously of him, as well as wickedly to the author, make a monster and a 842 BOOK OV MARTYRS. ravisber of tlicir king, and then lake away another's life for doing it. As for my lord Howard's evi- dence, had the jury been any but such as they were, and Sidney describes them, they would not have hanjved a Jesuit upon the credit of it ; he having apparently taken a pride in damning himself deeper and deeper against every new appearance in public, on pur- pose to try the skill and face of the counsel in bringing him otF again. To the evidence brought against him in my lord Russcl's case, he had taken care that these following should be added, as further wit- nesses of his perjury and false- hood : The earl of Clare swore, that Howard said, after Sidney's im- prisonment, if questioned again, he would never plead, and that he thought colonel Sidney as innocent as any man breathing : Mr. Ducas swore the same, so did my lord Paget, and several other noblemen and gentlemen ; adding, " that he said he had not his pardon, and could not ascribe it to any reason, but that he must not have it till the drudgery of swearing was over." But though no reasonable an- swer could be given to all this ; though Sidney pleaded " the obli- gations my lord Howard had to him, and the great conveniency he might think there might be in his being hanged, since he was some hundreds of pounds in his debt, which would be the readiest way of paying him ;" and had besides, as it appeared, a great mind to have the colonel's plate secured at his own house ; though never man in the world certainly ever talked stronger sense, or better reason, or more evidently confuted the judges, and left them nothing but railing, it was a lost case with him, as well as the others ; and the petty jury could as easily have found him guilty, without hearing his trial, as the grand jury did, as soon as they saw the bill. Never was any thing more base and barbarous than the summing up the evidence and directioss to the jury, who yet stood in no great need of them: nor a more uncivil and saucy reflection on the noble family and name of the Sidneys, than the judge's saying, " That he was born a traitor." Never any thing braver, or more manly, than his remonstrance to the king for justice, and another trial : nor lastly, more Roman, ai.d yet more truly Christian, than his end. The brave old man came upon a scaffold as unconcerned as if he bad been going to his bed, and as lively as if he had been a Russel. In his last speech he delivered his sentiments with boldness and conciseness, saying, " That ma- gistrates were made for the good of nations, not nations for the be- nefit of kings. If that be treason, king Charles I, is guilty of it against himself, who says the same thing. That the power of magi- strates is wliat the laws of the country make it: that those laws and oaths have the force of a con- tract, and if one part is broken the other ceases." Beside this and many other excellent maxims, he gave a full account of the design of his book, of his trial, and the injustice done liim therein ; of the juries being packed, and important points of law over-ruled ; ending with a most compendious prayer, in which he desired God would forgive his enemies, but keep them from doing any more mischief; and then he laid down his head, and received the stroke of death with the calm resolution of a martyr. As his petition to the king, and his paper delivered to the sherifi's, are curious and valuable, we shall give the first at length, and an abstract of the latter. TO THE king's MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY, THE HUMBLE PETITION OF ALGERNON SIDNEY, ESQ. Sheweth, That your petitioner, after a long and close imprisonment, was, on the seventh day of this month, with a guard of soldiers brought ALGERNON SIDNEY. 843 into the Palace-Yard, upon a Habeas Corpus directed to the lieu- tenant of the Tower, before any indictment had been exhibited against him : but while he was there detained, a bill was exhi- bited and found ; whereupon he was immediately carried to the King's-Bench, and there arraigned. In this surprise he desired a copy of the indictment, and leave to make his exceptions, or to put in a special plea, and counsel to frame it; but all was denied him. He then offered a special plea ready engrossed, which also was rejected without reading: and being threat- ened, that if he did not immediatelj"^ plead guilty or not guilty, judgment of high treason should be entered, he was forced, contrary to law (as he supposes) to come to a general issue in pleading not guilty. November 21, he was brought to his trial, and the indictment being- perplexed and confused, so that neither he nor any of his friends that heard it, could fully compre- hend the scope of it, he was wholly unprovided of all the helps that the law allows to every man for his defence. Whereupon he did again desire a copy, and produced an authentic copy of the statute of 46 Ed. III. whereby it is enacted, That every man shall have a copy of any record that touches him in any manner, as well that which is for or against the king, as any other person ; but could neither obtain a copy of his indictment, nor that the statute should be read. The jury, by which he was tried, was not (as he is informed) sum- moned by the bailiffs of the several hundreds, in the usual and legal manner; but names were agreed upon by Mr. Graham, and the under-sheriff, and directions given to the bailiff to summon them: and being all so chosen, a copy of the pannel was of no use to him. When they came to be called, he excepted against some for being your majesty's servants, which he hoped should not be returned, when ho was prosecuted at your majesty's suit ; many more for not being freeholders, which excep- tions, he thinks, were good in law ; and others were lewd and infamous persons, not lit to be on any jury : but all was over ruled by the lord chief justice, and your petitioner forced to challenge them peremp- torily, whom he found to be picked out as most suitable to the inten- tions of those who sought his ruin ; whereby he lost the benefit allowed him by law of making his excep- tions, and was forced to admit of mechanic persons, utterly unable to judge of such a matter as was to be brought before them. This jury being sworn, no witness was produced who fixed any thing be- yond hear-say upon your petitioner, except the lord Howard, and them that swore to some papers said to be found in his house, and offered as a second witness, and written in an hand like to that of your petitioner. Yonr petitioner produced ten witnesses, most of them of eminent quality, the others of unblemished fame, to shew that lord Howard's testimony was inconsistent with what he had declared before (at the trial of the lord Russel) under the same religious obligation of an oath, as if it had been legally administered. Your petitioner did further en- deavour to shew. That besides the absurdity and incongruity of his testimony, he being guilty of many crimes which he did not pretend your petitioner had any knowledge of, and having no other hope of pardon, than by the drudgery of swearing against him, he deserved not to be believed. And similitude of hands could be no evidence, as was declared by the lord chief justice Keeling, and the whole court in the lady Carr's case : by that no evidence at all remained against him. That whosoever wrote those papers, they were but a small part of a polemical discourse in answer to a book written about thirty years ago, upon general propositions, applied to no time, nor any parti- 844 BOOK OF MARTYRS. cular case ; that it was impossible to iudge of any part of it, unless tbe whole did appear, which did not ; that the sense of such parts of it as were produced, could not he comprehended, unless the whole had been read, which was denied ; that the ink and paper sheweth them to be written many years ago ; that the lord Howard not knowing of them, they could have no concurrence with what your petitioner is said to have designed -with him and others : that the con- fusion and errors in the Mriting shewed they had never been so -much as reviewed, and being writ- ten in an hand that no man could well read, they were not lit for the press, nor could be in some years, though the writer had intended it, which did not appear. But they being only the present crude and private thoughts of a man, for the exercise of his own understanding in iiis studies, and never shewed to any, or applied to any particular case, could not fall under the statute of 25 Edward III. which takes cognizance of no such matter, and could not by construction bo brought under it ; such matters heing thereby reserved to the par- liament, as is declared in the pro- viso, which he desired might be read, but was refused. Several important points of law did hereupon emerge, upon which your petitioner, knowing his weak- ness, did desire that counsel might be heard, or they might be referred to be found specially. But all was over-ruled by the violence of the lord chiefjustice, and your petioner so frequently interrupted, that the whole method of his defence was broken, and he not suflered to say the tenth part of what he could have alleged in his defence. So the jury was hurried into a verdict they did not understand. Now, forasmuch as no man that is oppressed in England, can have relief, unless it be from your ma- jesty, your petitioner humbly prays, that the premises considered, your inajesty would be pleased to admit him into your presence ; and if he doth not .shew, that it is for your majesty's interest and honour to preserve him from the said op- pression, he will not complain though he be left to be destroyed. AN ABSTRACT OF THE PAPER DE" LIVERED TO THE SHERIFFS, DECEMBER 7, 168-3, BEFORE HIS EXECUTION. First having excused his not speaking, as well because it was an age that made truth pass for treason, for the truth of which he instances his trial and con- demnation, and tliat the ears of some present were too tender to hear it, as because of the rigour of the season and his infirmities, &c. then after a short reflection upon the little said against him by other witnesses, and the little value that was to be put on the lord Howard's testimony, whom he charges with an infamous life, and many palpable perjuries, and to be biassed only by the promise of pardon, &c. and makes, even though he had been liable to no exceptions, to have been but a single witness ; he proceeds to answer the charge against him from the writings found in his closet by the king's officers, which were pretended, but not lawfully evidenced to be his, and pretends to prove, that had they been his, they contained no condemnable matter, but principles, more safe both to princes and people too, than the pretended high-llown plea for absolute monarchy, composed by Filmer, against which they seemed to be levelled ; and which, he says, all intelligent men thought, were founded on wicked principles, and such as were destructive both to magistrates and people too ; which he attempts to make out after this manner : First, says he, If Filmer might publish to the world, that men were born under a necessary in- dispensable subjection to an abso- lute king, who could be restrained by no oath, &c. whether he came to it by creation, inheritance, &c. nay or even by usurpation; wliy ALGERNON SIDNEY. 845 might he not publish his opinion to the contrary, without tlie breach of any known law ? Which opinion, he professes, consisted in the fol- lowing particulars : 1. That God hath left nations at the liberty of niodeliin<:j their own governments. 2. That mag;istrates were in- stituted for nations, and not e con- tra. 3. That the right and power of magistrates were fixed by the stand- ing laws of each country. 4. That those laws sworn to on both sides, were the matter of a contract between the magistrates and people, and could not be broken without the danger of dis- solving the whole government. 5. That usurpation could give no right ; and tiiat kings had no greater enemies than those who asserted that, or were for stretching their power beyond its limits. 6. That such usurpations com- monly affecting the slaughter of the reigning person, &c. the worst of crimes was thereby most glori- ously rewarded. 7. That such doctrines are more proper to stir up men to destroy princes, than all the passions that ever yet swayed the worst of them, and that no prince could be safe, if his murderers may hope such re- wards; and that few men would be so gentle as to spare the best kings, if by their destruction a vvild usur- per could become (Jod's anointed, which he says was the scope of that whole treatise, and asserts to be the doctrine of the best authors of all nations, times, and religions, and of the scripture, and so owned by the best and wisest princes, and particularly by Lewis the Fourteenth, of France, in his declaration against Spain, A. D. 1677, and by king James, of Eng- land, in his speech to the parlia- ment, 1603 ; and adds, that if the writer had been mistaken, he should have been fairly refuted, but that no man was otherwise punished for such matters, or any such things referred to a jury, &c. That the book was never finished, nor ever seen by them whom he was charged to have endeavoured by it to draw into a conspiracy : that nothing in it was particularly or maliciously applied to time, place, or person, but distorted to such a sense by iimendoes, as the discourses of the expulsion of Tarquin, &c. and particularly of the translation made of the crown of Franco from one race to another, had been then applied by the then lawyers' inuendoes to the then king of England ; never con- sidering, adds he, that if such acts of state he not allowed good, no prince in the world has any title to his crown, and havintj by a short reflection shewn the ridiculousness of deriving absolute monarchy from patriarchal power, he ap- peals to all the world; whether it would not be more advanta<»'eous to all kings to own the derivation of their power from tlie consent of willing nations, tlian to have no better title than forca, &c. which may be overpowered. But notwithstanding' the inno- cence and loyalty of that doctrine, he says. He was told that he must die, or the plot must die, and complains, that in order to the destroying the best protestants of England, the bench was filled with such as had been blemishes to the bar; and instances how, against law, they had advised with the king's counsel about bringing him to death, sufiered a jury to be picked by the king's solicitors, and the under-sherilf admitted non- freeholders jurymen, received evi- dence not valid, refused him a copy of his indictment, or to suffer the act of the 46th of Edw. III. to be read that allows it, over- ruled the most important points of law, without hearing, and assumed to themselves a power io make constructions of treason, though against law, sense, and reason, which by the statute of the '2.jth of Edw. III. by wiiich they pretended to try him, was reserved only to the parliament ; and so praying God to forgive them, and to avert the evils that threatened the nation, 1 S4C BOOK OF MARTYRS. to sanotify those sufferings to him, and though he fell a sacrifice to idols, not to suffer idolatry to be established in this land, he concludes with a thanksgiving, That God had singled him out to be a witness of his truth, and for that good old cause in which from his youth he had been engaged. EXECUTION OF MR. JAMES HOLLOWAY. Mr. Holloway was a merchant ; but his greatest dealing lay in linen manufacture, which, as ap- pears from his papers, he had brought to such a height in Eng- Iand,as, haditmet with suitable en- couragement, would have employed 80,000 poor people, and 40,000 acres of land, and have produced 200,0001. a year to the public reve- nues of the kingdom. He seems to have been a person of sense, courage, and vivacity, and a man of business. He was accused for the plot, as one who was acquainted with West, Rumsey, and the rest ; and having been really present at their meetings and discourses on that subject, absconded when the public news concerning the discovery came into the country ; though this, as he said, in the " Narrative" written by him, " more for fear, that if he was taken up, his credi- tors would never let him come out of gaol, than any thing else." After some time he got to sea in a little vessel, went over to France, and so to the West Indies, among the Caribbee Islands, where much of his business lay : but writing to his factor at Nevis, he was by him treacherously betrayed, seized by the order of sir William Stapleton, and thence brought prisoner to England, where, after examination, and a confession of at least all that he knew, having been out- lawed in his absence on an indict- ment of treason, he was, on the 21st of April, 1684, brought to the King's Bench, to shew cause why execution should not be awarded against him, as is usual in that case ; he opposed nothing against it, only saying, "if an ingenuous confession of truth could merit the king's pardon, he hoped he had done it." The attorney-general being called for, ordered the in- dictment to be read, and gave him the ofier of a trial, waving the out- lawry, which he refused, and throw himself on the king's mercy ; on which execution was awarded : and he was accordingly hanged, drawn and quartered, at Tyburn, on the 30th of April. It seemed strange, that a man of so much spirit, as Mr. Hollo- way appeared to be, should so tamely die without making any de- fence, when that liberty was grant- ed him : it seemed as strange, or yet stranger, that any protestant should have any thing that looked like mercy or favour from the per- sons then at the helm ; that they should be so gracious to him as to admit him to a trial, which look- ed so generously, and was so cried up ; the attorney-general calling it " A mercy and a grace," and the lord chief justice saying,' " He could assure him it was a great mercy, and that it was exceeding well." Now all this blind or mystery will be easily unriddled by what Holloway said just after : " My lord," said he, " I cannot under- take to defend myself, for I have confessed before his majesty, that I am guilty of many things in that indictment." Which was imme- diately made use of as was design- ed ; Mr. justice Withens crying out, " I hope every body here will take notice of his open confession, when he might try it if he would ; surely none but will believe this conspiracy now, after what this man has owned." So there was an end of all the mercy. A man who had before confessed in order to be hanged, had gracious liberty given him to confess it again in public, because his prosecutors knew he had pre- cluded all manner of defence be- fore, and this public action would both get them the repute of cle- mency, and confirm the belief of MR. HOLLOW AY.-Sm T. ARMSTRONG. 847 the plot. Now that there had been promises of pardon held out to him, if he would take this method, and own himself <^uilty witliout pleadiuff, is more than probable, both from other practices of the same nature used towards et as much out of me as possible." These " means" must evidently signify the falla- cious promises of pardon made to him, on condition of his confession. But if he made so fair and large an acknowledgment, it will be asked, why was not his life spared? But this may be easily answered : He was a little tcnder-conscienced, and would not strain so far as others in accusing men of those black crimes whereof they were innocent : nay, on the contrary, he vindicated them from those asper- sions cast upon them, and for which some of them, particularly my lord Russel, suflered death. For instance, he says, The as- sassination was carried on but by three or icur, and he could never hear so much as the nnmes of above live for it; that he and others had declared their abhorrence of any such thing ; that Ferguson was not concerned in it. And, besides, he speaks some things with the liberty of an Englishman; shews the very root of ail those heats which had been raised ; says, what was true enough, '' That the protestant gen- try had a notion of a horrible de- sign of the papists to cut otT the king's friends, and the active men in both the last parliaments; that they long had witnesses to swear them out of their lives, but no juries to believe them ; that now the point about the sheriH's was gained, that difliculty was over; that the king had persons about him who kept all things from his knowledge ; that if matters con- tinued thus, the protestant gentry resolved to release the king from his evil counsellors, and then he would immediately be of iheirsidc, and sutter all popish offenders to be brought to justice." Hence it was plain, no assassina- tion, no plot against the king and government was intended ; only treason against the duke of York and the papists, who were them- selves traitors by law. But Hol- loway said one thing yet bolder than all this ; he "prays the kind's eyes may be opened, to see his enemies from his friends, whom he had cause to look for nearer home." Was a man to expect pardon after this? No, certainly, which he soon grew sensible of, and prepared for death ; " the council," he says, "taking it very heinously that he should presume to write such things." Mr. Holloway further declared, that Mr. West proposed the assas- sination, but none seconded him; that he could not perceive that Mr. Ferguson knew any thing of it ; and he said, " It was our design to slved no blood ;" then being inter- rogated, by Mr. Ferguson's friend, Mr. sheriff Daniel, Whether he knew Ferguson? he answered, " That he did know him, but knew him to be against any design of killing the king." KXECIITION OF SIR THOMAS ARMSTRONG. The next sufferer had not so fair play, because his enemies knew he would make better use of it. They had this lion in the toils, and did not intend to let him loose again to make sport, lest the hunters them- selves should come off" ill by it. He had been all his life a firm servant and friend to the royal family, in their exile and afterwards : he had been in prison for them under 848 BOOK OF MARTYRS. Cromwell, and in danger both of execution and starving; for all which they now rewarded him by an ignominious death. He had a particular honour and devotion for the duke of Monmouth, and forwarded his interest on all occasions, being a man of as un- daunted courage as ever England produced. He was with the duke formerly in his actions in Flanders, and .shared there his dangers and honours. The accusation against him was, his being con- cerned in the general plot, and in that for killing the king. The particulars pretended against him, were what lord Howard wit- nessed in lord Russel's trial, of his ^oing to kill the king when their first design failed. But of this there ■was only a supposition, though advanced into a formal accusation, and aggravated by the attorney- •general, as the reason why he had a trial denied him, when HoUoway had one offered, both of them being alike outlawed. On which outlaw- ry sir Thomas was kidnapped in Holland, brought over hither in chains, and robbed, by the way, into the bargain. Being brought up, and asked what he had to say, why sentence should not pass upon him, he pleaded the 6th of Ed. VI. wherein it is provided. That if a person outlawed render himself within a year after the outlawry pronounced, and traverse his in- dictment, and shall be acquitted on his trial, he shall be discharged of the outlawry. On which he ac- cordingly then and there made a formal surrender of himself to the lord chief justice, and asked the benefit of the statute, and a fair trial for his life, the year not being yet expired. If ever any thing could appear plain to common sense, it was his case ; but all the answer he could get was this, from the lord chief justice, " We don't think so ; we are of another opi- nion." He could not obtain so much justice as to have counsel allowed to plead, though the point suffi- ciently deserved it, and the life of an old servant of the king's was concerned in it. Wiien he still pleaded, That a little while before, one (meaning Holloway) had the benefit of a trial offered him, if he would accept it, and that was all he now desired ; the lord chief justice answers, "That was only the grace and mercy of the king." The attorney-general adds, " The king did indulge Hoiluway so far as to offer him a trial, and his ma- jesty perhaps might have some reason for it :" the very reason, no doubt, which we have already as- signed for it. " But sir Thomas," the attorney goes on, " deserves no favour, because he was one of the persons that actually engaged to po, on the king's hasty coming from Newmarket, and destroy him by the way as he came to town ; which appears upon as full and clear an evidence, and as positively testi- fied, as any thing could be, in the evidence given in of the late horrid conspiracy." Now we may ask, who gives this clear and full evi- dence in the discovery of the con- spiracy ? Howard's is mere sup- position, and he is the only persor» who so much as mentions a syllable of it. To this sir Thomas answers in his speech, "That had he come to his trial, he could have proved my lord Howard's base reflections on him to be notoriously false, there being at least ten gentlemerv, besides all the ,servants in the house, who could testify where he dined that very day." Still sir Thomas demanded the benefit of the law, and no more : to which Jeffreys answered, with one of his usual barbarous insults over the miserable, "That he should have it, by the grace of God ;" ordering. That execution be done on Friday next according to law. And added, "That he should have the full benefit of the law:" repeating the jest, lest it should be lost, three times in one sentence ! He then proceeded to tell him, " We are satisfied that according to law we must award execution upon this outlawry :" thereupon Mrs. Mathews, sir Thomas's daugh- SIR THOMAS ARMSTRONG. ai<> ter, said, " My Lord, I liope you will not murder my father;" for which, beiiiff brow-beatcij and checked, she addrd, " (Jod Al- mighty's judgments light upon you!" On the following Friday he was bronght to the place of execution. Or. Tennison being with him, and on his desire, after lie had given what he had to leave, in a paper, to the sheriff, prayed a little while with him. He then prayed by liini-scif ; and after having thanked Ihe doc- tor for liis great care and pains with him, .sulnuitted to the scn- t(-ncp, and dird more composedly, and full as rcHrdutcly, as he had lived. It is ol)servabie, that more cruelty was exercised on him than on any who .sull'ered before him, not only in the manner of his death, but the exposing his limbs and body: a fair warning what particu- lar gratitude a protestant is to ex- pect for having obliged a true pa- pisi. A primitioe Chrhtian flawd aVvi' bii the Ueathm Persecutors. Another thing worth remembei- ingis, that whereas in }iolIouay's case, Jeffreys observed, *' That not one of all concerned in this con- spiracy bad dared deny it," abso- lutely it is so far from being true, that every one v/ho suffered did deny it as absolutely as possible. T ey were tried or sentenced for conspiring against the) king and government; that was their plot; but this they all deny, and ub.-?o- F()X'.S MARTVUS. lutely too, and safely might do it ; 0:>r they consulted for it, not con- spired against it, resolving not to touch the king's person ; nay, if possible, not to shed one drop of bJcod of any other, as Hoiloway and others say. For the king's life, bir Thomas says, as well the lord Russel, " Never had any man the impudence to pi'opose so base and barbarous a thing to me." R lis sol and almost all the others 54 850 say, " They had never any desig:n against the government." Sir Thomas says, "As he had never had a.iv de'si^ii a?;ainst the king's life, nor the life of any man. so he never had any design to alter the monarchy." As he lived he died, a sincere protestant, and in the communion of the church of England, though he heartily wished he had more strict- ly lived up to the religion he be- lieved. And though he had but a short time, he found himself pre- pared for death ; and at the place of execution he conducted him- self with the courage becoming a . great man, and with the scriou.';- nes3 and piety suitable to a good Christian. Sheriff" Daniel told bim, he had leave to say what he pleased, and should not be interrupted, unless he uv)braided the government ; sir Thomas thereupon told him that he should not say any thing by way of speech, but delivered him a pa- per, which he said contained his mind ; and in which he thus ex- pressed himself, that he thanked Almighty God he found himself prepared for death, his thoughts set upon another world, and wean- ed from this ; yet he could not but give so much of his little time, as to answer some calumnies, and par- ticularly what Mr. Attorney accu- sed him of at the bar. That he prayed to be allowed a trial for his life according to the laws of the land, and urged the statute of Edward the Sixth, which was expressly for it ; but it signi- fied nothing, and it was with an ex- traordinary roughness condemned, and made a precedent ; though HoUoway had it offered him, and he could not but think all the world would conclude his case very differ- ent, or why should the favour of- fered to another be refused to him? That Mr. Attorney charged him with being one of those that were to kill the king; whereas he took God to witness, that he never had a thought to take away the king's life, and that no man ever had the impudence to propose so base and BOOK OF MARTYRS. barbarous a thing to him ; and that he never was in any design to alter the governnient. That ii" be had been tried, he could have proved the lord How- ard's base reflections upon him to be notoriously false ; he con- cluded, that he had lived, and now- died of the reformed religion, a prote.stant in the communion of the church of England, and he heartily wished he had lived more strictly up to the religion he believed ; that he had found the great comfort of the love and mercy of God, in arid through his blessed Redeemer, in whom he only trusted, and verily hoped that he was going to partake of that fulness of joy which is in^ his presence, the hopes whereof' infinitely pleased him. He thank- ' ed God he had no repiaiug, but' cheerfully submitted to the punish- ment of his sins ; he freely forgave all the world, even those concerned in taking away his life, though he could not buit think his sentence very hard, be being denied the be- nefit of the laws of the land. TRIAL ANI> EXECUTION OF ALDER- MAN CORNISH. Although alderman Cornish and Mr. Bateman suffered after the duke of Monmouth and his ad- herents, yet, asthey were sacrificed under the pretence that they had been concerned in the same plot as lord Russel and the others, whose fate we have just narrated, they are placed here, that the victims of this infamous design may be con- templated at one view- Mr. Cornish was seized in Oc- tober, 1685 ; and the Monday af- ter his commitment, arraigned for high treason, having no notice given him till Saturday noon. The charge against him was for con- spiring to kill the kifig, and pro- mising to assist the duke of Mon- mouth, &c. in their treasonable en- terprises. He desired his trial might be de- ferred, because of the short time allowed him for preparation; and be- cause he had an important witness an hundred and forty miles offhand ALDERMAN CORNISH. B51 thdt the king had lef< it fo tUf ja&ges, whether it should b4 put otf or no. feat it was denied him ; the attorney-general telling him, " He had not deserved so well of the government as to hav<» his trial delayed." Tliat was, in plain Eng- lish, because he had been a pro- testant sheriff, he should not have justice. The witnesses against him were Rumsey and Goodenough. Rum- s6y swore, That when he was at the meeting at Mr. Shepherd's, Mr. Shepherd being called down, brought up Mr. Cornish ; and when he was come in, Ferguson opened bis bosom, and pulled out a pap6r iri the nature of a declaration of grievances, which Ferguson read. Hind Shepherd held the candle while it was being read ; that Mr. Cornish liked it, and said. What interest he had, he would join with it; and that it was merely from compassion that he had not ac- cused Mr. Cornish before. Goodeuough srt'ore, Tiiat he talk- ed with Cornish of the design of seizing the Tower. Mr. Cornish said. He would do what good he could, or to that effect. ToGoodenough's evidence was op- posed Mr. Gospright's,who testified that Mr. Cornish opposed Good- enough's being made under-sheriff, saying. That he was an ill man, ob- noxious to the government, and he would not trust an hair of his head with him. And is it then probable that he would have such discourses vi-ith him as would endanger head and all? Mr. Love, Mr. JekyI, and sir William Tui-riei*, testify to the sathe pu«rpose. As to Rumsey's evidence, tlie perjury is so evident, that it is im- possible to look into the trial with- out meeting it. If we compare what he says on Russel's trial and on the present, this will be as visible as the sun. Being asked before, whether there was any discourse about a declaration, and how long he staid; he says, *' he was there about a quarter of aii hoiir, aurf that he was not certain whether he had heard' soioaethidg about 'a de- claration there, or whether he had heard Ferguson report aftfcfwards, Uiat they had then debated it." But on Cornish's trial hfe had strangely recovered his memory, and having had the advantage, either of recollection, or better in- struction, remembers that distinct- ly in October, 1685, which he could not in July, l(i83, namely, that " he had been there a quarter of an hour ;" the time he states in the lord Russel's trial, but length- ens it out, and improves it now sufiicient to allow of Mr. Shep- herd's going down, bringing Cor- nish up, Ferguson's pulling out the declaration,and reading it, and that, as Shepherd says on Russel's trial, a long one too, as certainly it must be, if, as it were sworn, " it con- tained all the grievaces of the na- tion," and yet all this still in a quarter of an hour! thus contra- dicting himself both aS to time and matter. But Shepherd is of such bad cre- dit, that his evidence is scarce fit to be taken against himself. He says, " At one meeting only Mr. Cornish was at his house to speak to one of the persons there ; that then he him- self came up stairs, and went out, again with Mr. Cornish. That there* was not one word read, nor any pa- per seeii, while Mr. Cornish was therd, and this he Was' positive of, for Mr. Coi"nish was not oiie of their company." Now who should knovV best, Rumsey what Shepherd did, or he what he did himself? Could a man hold the candle while a declaratiorit was read, as Rumsey swears Shep- herd did, and yet know nothing of it, nay, protest the direct contrary? All that is pretended, to support Rumsey's evidence, and hinder Shepherd's from saving the prison- er, was, that Sheplierd strengtheueti' Rumsey, and proved Cornish gnilt^'- of a lie. But if we inquire irttd thfT' matter, we shall find on^ afe' tr^e a&J the other. Cornish oil his trial is said to hava- , de-flied his b^ing at the ttieetin^' and discoursing vrith tHd duke 0?*' Monmouth ; which' they wo^ldh^3' S52 ROOK OF MARTYRS. us believe Shepherd swears he was, though not a syllable of it appears. He had been there several times, Shepherd says, but was not of their council, knew nothing of their bu- siness, nor can he be positive whe- ther it was the duice of Moamouth he came to speak to that evening. But supposing in two or three years time, and on so little recollection, Cornish's memory had failed him in that circumstance, what is that to Shepherd's evidence against the very root of Rumsey's which hang- ed the prisoner ] In spite of all he was found guil- ty, and condemned, and even that Christian serenityof mind and coun- tfcnauce, wherewith it was visible he bore his sentence, turned to his reproach by the bench. He continued in the same excel- lent temper whilst in Newgate, and gave the world an admirable in- stance of the peace vnth which a Christian can die, even when his death is what the world considers ignominious. His carriage and be- haviour at his leaving Newgate was as follows : Coming into the press-yard, and seeing the halter in the officer's hand, he said, "Is this for me?" The officer answered, " Yes." He replied, " Blessed be God," and kissed it: and afterwards said," O," blessed be God for Newgate! I have enjoyed God ever since I came within these walls, and blessed be God who hath made me fit to die. I am now going to that God that will not be mocked, to that God that will not be imposed upon, to that God that knows the innocency of his poor creature." And a little after he said, " Never did any poor creature come unto God with great- er confidence in his mercy, and as- surance of acceptance with him, through Jesus Christ, for there is no other way of coming to God but by him, to find acceptance with him : there is no other name given under heaven whereby we can be saved, but the name of Jesus." Then speaking to the officers, he said, " Labour every one of you to be lit to die : for I tell you, you are not fit to die : I was not fit to die myself before I came hither; but, oh ! blessed be God ! he hath made me fit to die, and hath made me willing to die ! In a few moments I shall have the fruition of the blessed Jesus, and that not for a day, but for ever. I am going to the kingdom of God, where I shall enjoy the presence of God the Father, and of God the Son, and of God the Holy Spirit, and of all the holy angels: I am going to the general assembly of the first-born, and of the spirits of just men made perfect : O that God should ever do so much for me ! O that God should concern himself so much for poor creatures, for their salvation, bless- ed be his name ! for this was the design of God from all eternity, to give his only Son to die for poor miserable sinners." Then the offi- cers going to tie his hands, he said. "What! must I be tied then? Well, a brown thread might have served the turn ; you need not tie me at all; I shall not stir from you, for I thank God I am not afraid to die." As he was going out, he said, " Farewell, Newgate : farewell all my fellow-prisoners here ; the Lord comfort you, the Lord be with you all." Thus much for his behaviour in the way to his martyrdom. The place of it was most spitefully and barbarously ordered, almost before his own door, and near Guildhall, to scare any good citizen by his ex- ample from appearing vigorously in the discharge of his duty for bis country's service. If any thing was wanting in his trial, from the haste of it, for the clearing his in- nocence, he sufficiently made it up in solemn asseverations thereof on the scaflTold: " God is my witness," said he, " the crimes laid to my charge were falsely and maliciously sworn against me by the witnesses ; for I never was at any consultation or meeting where matters agaioHt the government were discoursed of." He added, " J never heard or read any declaration tending that way. As for the crimes for which I suffer, apon the words of a dying; CHARLES BATEMAN— MR. JOHNSON. 853 twan, I am altogether innocent. I die, as I have lived, in the commu- nion of the church of Eng-land, in whose ordinances I have been often a partaker, and now feel the bless- ed effects thereof in these my last agonies." He was observed by those who stood near the sledge, to hav« solemnly, and scv»>:ral times, aver- red his absolute innocence of any design against the government, and particularly that for which he died. His quarters were set up on Guildhall, in terrorem, and for the same reason, no doubt, before men- tioned, for which he was executed so near it. TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF MR. CHARLES BATEMAN. The last' who suffered for this pretended plot was Mr. Bateman, a surgeon, a man of good sense, courage, and generous temper, of considerable repute and practice in his calling ; a great lover and vin- dicator of the liberties of his coun- try, and of more interest than most persons in his station of life. He was sworn against by Rouse, Lee, and Richard Goodenough, upon the old stories of seizing the Tower, city, and Savoy. Had he been able to defend himself, he would, no doubt, have covered his accusers with infamy, and have shown his own innocence ; but being kept close prisoner in Newgate, in a dark and lonesome dungeon, with little or no company, he being a free jolly man, and used formerly to con- versation and diversion, soon grew deeply melancholy ; and when he came on his trial, appeared little less than perfectly distracted ; on which the court very kindly gave his son liberty to make his defence ; the first instance of that nature ; and even here their kindness w;is very equivocal, since he himself might, had he been in his senses, have re- membered and pleaded many things more, which would have in- validated their evidence against him. But had not the mistaken piety of his son undertaken his de- fence, certainly even they could never have been such monsters as to have tried one in his condition. Yet had the evidence which his sou brought forward been allowed its due weight, he must certainly have been acquitted. For as for Lee, one Baker swore, " He had been practised upon by him in the year, 1683, and would have had him in- sinuate himself into Batenian's com- pany, and discourse about state affairs to trepan him, for which ser- vice he should be aniply rewarded." It was further urged, that three years had elapsed between the pre- tended commission of treason and the present prosecution; and also that the evidence now produced was insufficient to convict him, even of misprision, much less of the ca- pita! crime. However,he wasfound guilty; and just before his execu- tion very much recovered himself, dying as much like a Christian, and with as great presence of mind, as any of the former suflerers. SUFFERINGS OF THU REV. MR. JOHNSON. Much about the same time, the pious, reverend, and learned Mr. Johnson was severely punished, for the heinous crimes of being my lord Russel's chaplain, writing the fa- mous book called " Julian the Apostate," and endeavouring to persuade the nation, not to let them- selves be made slaves and papists, when so many others were doing their part to bring them to it. And it is a question whether any man iu the world, except Lis friend the reverend Dr. Burnet, did more ser- vice with his pen, or more couduced to the happy revolution, both among the army, and in other places. For these good services he was accused, imprisoned, tried, and condemned to be divested of his canonical habit, and to be whipped from Aldgate to Newgate, and from Newgale to Tyburn; which was performed, and which he underwent with courage and constancy above a man, and '-f^e a Christian and a martyr, f*^ was afterwards impriso'-^'^ . '^ the king's bench, till *"«• coming of the !;reat delive-' of the nation se^ him at lih-i^Y- S54 IJOOK OF MA-KTYRS. AN ACCOUNT OV THfc. INSURllKC- TION, DEFEAT, AND EXECUTION OF THE DUKE OV MONMOUTH, THE EARL OF AUOYI.E, AND THEIB FOLLOWERS. The duke of York hav jnji, ascended the English throne by tiie title of James If. soon began to manifest his tyrannical intentions against both re- ligion and liberty. He seemed in- clined to place himself and his go- vernment entirely in the hands of the Jesuits ; and such was his zeal for the Roman catholic religion, that Pope Innocent XI. to whom he had sent lord Castlemaine as am- bassador, cautioned him not to be too hasty. Although, on his acces- sion, he had iu his speech to the privy council disclaimed all arbi- trary principles, and promised to maintain the established govern- ment of the nation both in church and state, he soon evinced his insin- cerity, la a sort of triumph, he produced some papers of his brother Charles II. by which it ap- peared that he had died a Roman catljolic ; and in contempt of the feelings of the people, oja tlie first Sunday of his reign, he went pub- licly to mass. The duke of Nor- folk, who carried t!ie sword of state, stopt at the door of the chapel. "My lord," said the king, "your father would have gone fur- ther."— " Your majesty's father," replied the spirited nobleman, " would not have gone so far." While James was proceeding thus, and indulging himself in the prospect of subverting the establish- ed religion, the duke of Monmouth, who, on the death of lord Russel, had gone over to Flanders, trusting to the affectionate regard he had always enjoyed among the protes- tants, whose cause he had ever es- poused, formed the design of bring- ing about a revolation. To the im- »>^ediate execution of this rash and unhb^Qy enterprise, which his own judgment ie(j hij^ to wish deferred, he was cluetij instigated by the ac- tive spirit of tn. cg^.l of Argyle. Having prepared a scj-,adrou of six vessels, badly manned, hm very ill supplied, they divided, and with three each, sailed for the places of their destination : Monmouth land- ed at Lyme, in Dorsetshire, on the 11th of June 1685, with 150 men, and marching thence to Taunton, his army immediately increased to COOO ; besides which, he was obliged daily to dismiss great numbers for w ant of arms. In the mean while, the earl of Argyle had landed in Argyleshire, where he found the militia prepared to oppose him. But being imme- diately joined by his brave vassals and faithful partisans, he penetrat- ed into the western counties, hop- ing to be joined by the disaffected covenanters. But his little squa- dron being captured, and his brave followers having lost their baggage in a morass in Renfrewshire, every hope was extinguished, and they were necessitated to disperse fov immediate preservation. The unfortunate nobleman as- sumed a disguise, but he was soon taken by two peasants, and con- ducted to Edinburgh, where he was executed, without a trial, on an unjust sentence which had been formerly pronounced on him. At his death he discovered all that he- roic firmness which he had for- merly manifested in his life, together with a great degree of piety. " Job tells us," said he,' " that man, that is born of a woman, is of few days and full of trouble ; and I am a clear instance of it. I know afflic- tions spring not out of the dust ; they are not only foretold, but pro- mised to Christians ; and they are not only tolerable but desirable. We ought to have a deep reverence and fear of God's displeasure, but withal, a firm hope and dependence on him for a blessed issue, in com- pliance with his will ; for God chastens his own to refine, and not to ruin them. We are neither to despise, nor to faint under afflic- tions. I freely forgive allwhohave been the cause of my being brought to this place ; and I entreat all peo- ple to forgive me wherein I have offended, and pray with me, that Ihc mo cifuiGodi would saactily i^vy DUKE OF MONJVIOUIH. 855 present eud, and for Christ's sake pardon all iny sins, and receive me to his eternal glory." The fatal news of the defeat of this nobleman and his followers no sooner reached the duke of Mon- mouth than he sunk into despon- dency. He now began to see the te- merity of his undertaking, and en- voured to provide for his safety and that of his army. He therefore be- gan to retreat till he re-entered Bridgewater, the royal army being in his rear. Here he ascended a tower, from whence viewing the army of lord Feversham, his hopes again revived, while he meditated an attack. He accordingly made the most skilful arrangements, but unfortunately committing an impor- tant post to lord Grey, that dastard- ly soldier betrayed him, and, not- withstanding the courage of his un- disciplined troops, who repulsed the veteranforcesof theking, and drove them from the field, a want of am- munition prevented them from pur- suing their advantages, the royal troops rallied, dispersed their un- fortunate adversaries, and slew about 1500 of them in the battle and pursuit. Monmouth, seeing the conflict hope- less, galloped off the field, and con- tinued his fiight for twenty miles, until his horse t;\wk under him, when the unfortunate prince, almost as exhausted as the animal, wan- dered on foot for a few miles fur- ther, and then sunk down, overcome with hunger and fatigue. He was shortly afterwards discovered, lying in a ditch, exhausted, and almost senseless. He burst into tears when seized by his enemies, and being still anxious to preserve his life, for the sake of his wife and children, wrote very submissively to James, conjuring him to spare the issue of a brother who had al- ways shown himself firmly attached to his interest. The king finding him thus depressed, admitted him into his presence, with the hope of extorting from him a discovery of his accomplices. But Monmouth, however desirous of life, scorned to purchase it at the price of so much infamy. Finding all efforts to ex- cite compassion in the breast of the inexorable James fruitless, he pre- pared himself for death with a spirit becoming his rank and character ; and on the 15th of July, was brought to the scaffold, amidst the tears and groans of the people. Previously to his death, he said, that he re- pented of his sins, and was more particularly concerned for the blood that had been spilt on his aocoiuU. "Instead," said he, "of being ac- counted factious and rcbclliou?, the very opposing of popery and arbi- trary power will sufficiently apolo- gize for me. I have lived, and now die in this opinion, that God will work a deliverance for his people. I heaitily forgive all who have wronged me, even those who have been instrumental to my fall, ear- nestly praying for their souls. I hope that king James will shew himself to be ofhis brother's blood, and extcjid his u.ercy to my chil- dren, they being not capable to act, and, therefore, not conscious of any offence againstthe government." He conjured the executioner to spare him the second blow ; but the man, whose heart was unlit for his olHce, struck him feebly, on which the duke, gently turning himself round, cast a look of tender re proach upon him, and then again meekly submitted his head to the axe; the executioner struck him again and again to no purpose, and then threw aside the axe, declaring that he was incapable of complet- ing the bloody task. The slieriff. however, obliged him to renew the attempt, and by two blows more the head was severed from the body. That ambition had a share in moving both Monmouth and Ar- gle to that step, v/hich ended in their death, caimot be denied : but among their partisans, numbers were doubtless actuated by purer motives, even the love of the cause of truth ; and though we cannot but lament that mistaken zeal, which led them to assume the sword, in order to advance the glory of Him, whose weapon.^ are not car- nal, but spiritual, we must not re- 8jG BOOK OF MAUTYKS. fuse to enrol tlieirnanieswithtIio.se of the martyrs, as they suflered in the same cause, and with the same heroic constancy. The victory thus obtained by the kiiipj in the commencement of his rei<;n, would naturally, had it been iirinas^ed with prudence, have tended much to increase his power and authority. But, by reason of the cruelty with which it was pro- secuted, and of the temerity v/ith A\Iiich it afterwards inspired him, it was a principal cause of his sudden ruin and downfall. Such arbitrary principles had tiie court instilled into all its ser- vants, that Feversham, immediately after the victory, hanged above twenty prisoners, and was pro- ceeding in his executions, when the bishop of Bath and Wells, warned him, that these unhappy men were now by law entitled to a trial, and that their execution would be deemed a real murder. This remonstrance, however, did not stop the savage nature of colonel Kirke, a soldier of fortune, who had long served at Tangiers, and had contracted, from his inter- course with the Moors, an inhuma- nity less known in European and in free countries. At liis first entry into Bridgewater he hanged nine- teen prisoners, without the least inquiry into the merits of their cause. As if to make sport with death, he ordered a certain number to be executed, while he and his company should drink the king's health, or the queen's, or that of chief justice Jelireys. Observing their feet to quiver in the agonies of death, he cried, that he would give them music to their dancing ; and he immediately commanded the drums to beat, and the trumpets to sound. By way of experiment he ordered one man to be hung up three times, questioning him at each interval whether he repented of his crime. But the man obsti- nataly asserting, that, notwith- standing the past, he still would willingly engage in the same cause, Kirke ordered him to be hung in chains. One story, commonly told of him, is memorable for the treachery, as well as barbarity, which attended it. A young maid pleaded for the life of her brother, and Hung herself at Kirke's feet, armed with all the charms which beauty and innocence, bathed in tears, could bestow upon her. The tyrajit was inllaniedwith desire, not softened into love or clemency. He promised to grant her request, provided that she, in her turn, would be equally compliant to him. The maid yielded to the conditions : but, after she had passed the night with him, the wanton savage, next morning, showed her, from the window, her brother, the darling object for whom she had sacrificed her virtue, hanging on a gibbet, which he had secretly ordered to be there erected for the execution. Rag^e, and de- spair, and indignation, took posses- sion of her mind, and deprived her for ever of her senses. All the inhabitants of that country, inno- cent as well as guilty, were exposed to the ravages of this barbarian. The soldiery were let loose to live at free quarters ; and his own re- giment, instructed by his example, and encouraged by his exhorta- tions, distinguished themselves in a particular manner by their out- rag-es. By way of pleasantry, he used to call them his lambs; an appellation which was long remem- bered, with horror, in the west of England. The violent Jeffreys succeeded after some interval ; and shewed the people, that the rigours of law might equal, if not exceed, the ravages of military tyranny. This man, who wantoned in cruelty, had already given a specimen of his character in many trials where he presided ; and he now set out with a sa\age joy, as to a full harvest of death and destruction. He began at Dorchester : and thirty rebels being- arraigned, he exhorted them, but in vain, to save him, by their free confession, the trouble of try- ing them : and when twenty-nine were found guilty, he ordered (hem, as an additional puni'^hnicnt Mils, GAUNT— LADY LISLE. 857 of Ureir disobedience, to be led to immediate execution. Most of the other prisoners, terrified with this example, pleaded gfuiity ; and no less than two hun- tlred and ninet^'-two received sen- tence at Dorchester. Of these, cigthy were executed. Exeter was the next sta^e of iiis cruelty : two hundred and forty-three were there tried, of wh(jm a groat number were condemned and executed. He also opened his coiumissioii at Taunton and Wells, and every where car- ried consternation along with him. The juries were so struck with his menaces, that they gave their ver- dict with precipitation ; and many innocent persons, it is said, were involved with the guilty. And, on the whole, besides those who were butchered by the military com- manders, two hundred and fifty-one are computed to have fallen by the hand of justice. The whole country was strewed with the heads and limbs of traitors. Every village almost beheld the dead carcase of a wretched inhabitant. And all the rig-ours of justice, unabated by any appearance of clemency, were fully displayed to the people by the inhuman .Jeffreys. Of all the executions during this dismal period, the most remarkable were those of Mrs. Gaunt and Lady Lisle, who had been accused of harbouring traitors. Mrs. Gaunt was an anabaptist, noted for her beneficence, which she extended to persons of all professions and persuasions. One of the rebels knowing her humane disposition, had recourse to her in his distress, and was concealed by her. Hear- ing of the proclamation, which offered an indemnity and rewards to such as discovered criminals, he betrayed his benefactress, and bore evidence against her. He received a pardon, as a recompence for his treachery ; she was burned alive for her charity, on the 23d of Octo- ber, 1685. Lady Lisle was widow of one of the rejiicides, who had enjoyed great favour and authority under f TOinweli, who, having fled, after the restoration, to Lauzanne in Swisserlandjwas there assassinated by three Irish ruffians, who hoped to make their fortune by this piece of service. His widow was now prosecuted, for harbouring two rebels, the day after the battle of Sedgeraoorc ; and Jefiereys pushed on the trial with an unrelenting violence. In vain did the aged prisoner plead, tluit tlicsc criminals had been put into no proclamation; had been convicted ijy no verdict ; nor could any man l)c denominated a traitor, till the sentence of some legal court was passed upon him : that it appeared not, by any proof, that she was so much as acquainted with the guilt of the persons, or had heard of their joining the re- bellion of Monmouth : that though she might be obnoxious, on account of her family, it was well known, that her heart was ever loyal, and that no person in England had shed more tears for that tragical event, in which her husband had unfor- tunately borne too great a share: and that the same principles, which she herself had ever embraced, she had carefully instilled into her son, and had, at that very time, sent him to fight against those rebels, whom she was now accused of harbouring. Though these argu- ments did not move Jeffreys, they had influence on the jury. Twice they seemed inclined to bring in a favourable verdict : they were as often sent back with menaces and reproaches, and at last were eon- strained to give sentence against the prisoner. Notwithstanding all applications for pardon, the cruel sentence was executed at Win- chester, when she made the fol- lowing speech : — " Gentlemen, friends, and neigh- bours, it may be expected that I should say something at my death, and in order thereunto I shall ac- quaint you, that my birth and education were both near this place, and that my parents in- structed me in the fear of God, and I now die of the reformed protestant religion ; believing that if ever popery should return ijito this nation, it would be a very «&B BOOK OF MARTYRS. / Sreat and severe judgment ; that I ie in expectation of the pardon of all my sins, and of acceptance with God the Father, by the im- puted righteousness of Jesus Christ, he being the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believes. I thank God through Jesus Christ, that I do depart under the blood of sprinkling, •which speaketh better things than that of Abel ; God having made this chastisement an ordinance to toy soul. I did once as little ex- pect to come to this place on this occasion, as any person in this place or nation ; therefore let all learn not to bo high-minded, but fear; the lord is a sovereign, and will take what way he sees best to glorify himself in and by his poor creatures ; and I do humbly desire to submit to his will, praying to him that I may possess my soul in patience. The crime that was laid to my charge, was for entertaining a nonconformist minister and others in my house : the said minister being sworn to have been in the late duke of Monmouth's army ; but I have been told, that if I had denied them, it would not at all have affected me. I have no ex- cuse but surprise and fear, which I believe my jury must make use of to excuse their verdict to the world. I have been also told, that the court did use to be of counsel for the prisoner ; but instead of advice, I had evidence against me from thence; which, though it were only by hear-say, might possibly affect my jury ; my defence being bat such as might be expected from a weak woman ; but such as it was, I did not hear it repeated again to the jury ; which, as I have been informed, is usual in such cases. However, 1 forgive all the world, and therein all those that have done me wrong ; and in particular I forgive colonel Penruddock, al- though he told me, that he could have taken these men before they came^ to my house. And I do likewise forgive him, who desired to be .aken away from the grand jury to tile petty jury, that he might be the more nearly concerned in my death. As to what may b® objected in reference to my con- viction, that I gave it under my hand, that I had discoursed with Nelthorp ; that could be no evi- dence against me, being after my conviction and sentence : I do ac- knowledge his majesty's favour in revoking my sentence : I pray God to preserve him, that he may long reign in mercy, as well as justice, and that he may reign in peace ; and that the protestant religion may flourish under him. T also return thanks to God and the reve- rend clergy that assisted me in my imprisonment." The king said, that he had given Jelfreys a promise not to pardon her : an excuse which could serve only to aggravate the blame against himself. We shall now give the particulars of such of the trials, or rather ju- dicial murders, as had any thing remarkable in them. Benjamin and William Hew- LING were the only sons of virtuous and respectable parents, who had liberally educated them, and in- structed them in the practical duties of life by their own exam- ple. Mr. Benjamin Hewling had the command of a troop of horse in the duke of Monmouth's army in Holland ; the youngest was a lieutenant of foot, and returned from Hollaud with the duke. Ben- jamin, besides signalizing himself in several skirmishes, was sent to Minehead, in Somersetshire, with a detachment of his own troops and others, to bring cannon to the army at the very instant that the duke engaged the king's forces at Sedge- moore, and arrived too late to turn the fortune of the day. Being thereupon compelled to disperse his troops, he, with his brother, escaped from the field, and em- barked on board a small vessel for the Continent ; but, unfortunately, they were driven back by a con- trary wind, and with much peril regained the shore. They had no alternative (the country at that time being filled with soldiers) hut to surrender BENJAMIN AND WILLIAM HEWLING. $69 themselves to a gentleman whose house was near; whence they were sent, on the twelfth of July 1685, to Exeter gaol. On the 27th of July they were put on board the Swan frigate to be brought to London, and thence to Newgate. Here they were separated from each other, and no intercession of their nearest relations could procure access to them for some time. After three weeks confiviement here, they were ordered to the West for trial, and so removed to Dorchester; and after four days more, Benjamin was or- dered to Taunton, being on the sixth of September. William was tried andfound guilty at Dorchester, and condemned to die at Lyme, ■where he was accordingly executed on the 12th. The conduct of both, whilst on board the Swan, and on their re- turn from Loudon to Dorchester, was such as interested every one in their behalf. As a specimen it may be observed, that just as William .was going to Lyme, in order to his execution, he wrote these few lines to a friend, being hardly suflered to stay so long : " I am going to launch into eternity, and I hope and trust into the arms of my blessed Redeemer, to whom I commit you and all my dear relations. My duty to my dear mother, and love to all my sisters, and the rest of my friends. " William Hevvling." As they passed through the town of Dorchester to Lyme, multitudes of people beheld them, with great lamentations, admiring his de- portment at his parting with his sister. On the road between Lyme and Dorchester, his discourse was ex- ceedingly spiritual, taking occasion from every thing to speak of the glory he and his fellow-prisoners were going to. Looking out on the country as they passed, be said, •' This is a glorious creation, but what then is the paradise of God to which we are going ? It is bat a few hours, and we shall be there, and for ever with the Lord." At Lyme, just before they went to die, reading John xiv. 18. he said to one of his fellow-sufferers, " Here is a sweet promise for us; I will not leave you comfortless, I will come unto you; Christ will be with us to the last." To another who asked him how he did now, he said, " Very well, he blessed God." And further asking him, if he could look death in the face with comfort now it approached so near; he said " Yes, I bless God I can, with great com* fort." Afterwards he prayed for about three quarters of an hour with the greatest fervency, exceedingly blessing God for Jesus Christ, adoring the riches of his grace in him, in all the glorious fruits of it towards him, praying for the peace of the church of God, and of these nations in particular, all with such eminent assistance of the Spirit of God, as convinced, astonished, and melted into pity the hearts of all present, even the most malicious adversaries, forcing tears and ex- pressions of pity and admiration from them. When he was just going out of the world, with a joyful counte- nance, he said, " Oh ! now my joy and comfort is, that I have a Christ to g-o to," and so sweetly resigned his spirit to Christ. An ofScer who had shown so malicious a spirit as to call the prisoners " devils," when he was guarding them down, was now so convinced, that he afterwards said, " he was never so affected as by Hewling's cheerful carriage and fervent prayer, such, as he believed, was never heard, especially frona one so young ; adding, " I believe, had the lord chief justice beea there, he would not have let bioi die." The sheriff having given his body to be buried, although it was brought from the place of execu- tion without any notice given, yet many inhabitants of the town, to the number of two hundred or more, came to accompany it ; and several young womeu of the best families in the town laid him in his S60 BOOK OF MARTYRS. grave in Lyme cliurch-yard, on the thirteenth of September, 1685. Mr. Benjamin Hewling rejoiced greatly to receive the news of his brother's having died with so much confidence in the mercy of the Almighty, and expressed his satis- faction to this etfect, " We have no cause to fear death, if the presence of God be with us ; there is no evil in it, the sting being taken away ; it is nothing but our ig- norance of the glory that the saints pass into by death, which makes it appear dark for ourselves or rela- tions ; if we trust in Christ, what is this world that we should desire an abode in it?" He further said, *' God having some time before struck his heart (when he thought of the hazard of his life) to some serious sense of his past life, and the great consequences of death and eternity, shewing him, that they were the only happy persons •who had secured an eternal state of felicity ; the folly and madness of the ways of sin, and his own thraldom therein, with his utter inability to deliver himself; also the necessity of Christ for salva- tion ; it was not without terror and amazement for some time, that he could bear the sight of unpardoned sin, with eternity before him. But God wonderfully opened to him the riches of his free grace in Jesus Christ for poor sinners to flee to, enabling them to look alone to a crucified Christ for salvation : this iblessed Avork was in some measure carried on upon his soul, under all his business and hurry in the army, but never sprung forth so fully and sweetly till his close confinement "m Newgate." There he saw Christ and all spiritual objects more dearly, and embraced them more strongly ; there he experienced the ilessedness of a reconciled slate, he excellency of the ways of holi- tess, the delightfulness of commu- nion with God, which remained ivith very deep and apparent im- pressions on his soul, which he fre- quently expressed with admiiation iOf the grace of God towards him. He said, " What an amazing consideration is the suffering of Christ for sin, to bring us to God '• His suffering from wicked men was exceeding great : but, alas ! what was that to the dolour of his soul, under the infinite wrath of God 1 This mystery of grace and love is enough to swallow up our thoughts to all eternity." As to his own death, he would often say, " I see no reason to expect any other ; I know God is infinitely able to deliver, and I am sure will do it, if it be for his glory and my good ; in which, I bless God, 1 am fully satisfied." Speaking of the disappointment of their expectations in the work they had undertaken, he said, "■ With reference to the glory of God, the prosperity of the gospel, and the delivery of the people of God, we have great cause to lament it ; but for that outward prosperity that would have accompanied it, it is but of small moment in itself; as it could not satisfy, so neither could it be abiding ; for at length death would have put an end to it all :" also adding, " Nay, perhaps we might have been so foolish as to have been taken with that part of it, to the neglect of our eternal concerns ; and then, I am sure, our present circumstances are incom- parably better." In his conversation he particularly valued and delighted in those per- sons in whom he saw most holiness shining; he also expressed great pity to the souls of others, saying, " That the remembrance of our former vanity may well cause com- passion to others in that state." And he was frequently prompting others to seriousness, telling them, " Death and eternity are such weighty concerns, that they de- serve the utmost attention of our minds ; for the way to receive death cheerfully is to prepare for it seriously ; and if God should please to spare our lives, surely we have the same reason to be serious, and spend our remaining days in his fear and service." He also took great tare that the BENJAMIN AND WILLIAM HEWLING. S6I worship of God, which they were in a capacity of maintaining there, might be duly performed, as read- ing, praying, and singing of psalms, in which he evidently took great delight. For three or four days before their deaths, when there was a general report that no more would be executed; he said, "I do not know what God hath done beyond our expectations ; if he doth pro- long my life, I am sure it is all his own, and by his grace I will wholly devote it to him." But on the 29th of September, about ten or eleven at night, the poor prisoners found the deceitful- ness of this report, they being then told they must die the next morn- ing, which was very unexpected, as to the suddenness of it ; but herein God glorified his power, grace, and faithfulness, in giving them suitable support and comfort by his blessed presence ; indeed Hewling appeared to be not at all disturbed, saying, " Though men design to surprise, God doth and will perform his word, to be a very present help in trouble," The next morning his cheerful- ness and comfort were much in- creased, and he waited for the sheriff with the greatest sweetness and serenity of mind ; saying, " Now the will of God is deter- mined, to whom I have referred it, and he hath chosen most certainly that which is best," Afterwards witli a smiling coun- tenance he discoursed of the glory of heaven, remarking with much delight the third, fourth, and fifth verses of the 22d chapter of the Revelations, " And there shall be no more curse ; but the throne of God, and of the Lamb, shall be in it, and his servants shall serve him, and they shall see his face, and his names shall be in their foreheads, and there shall be no night there, and they shall need no candle nor light of the sun, and they shall reign for ever and ever." Then he said, " Oh, what a happy state is this ! shall we be loth to go to enjoy this V Then he desired to be read to him, 2 Cor. v. " For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens," to the tenth or eleventh verses. In all, his com- forts still increasing, he expressed his sweet hopes and good assu- rance of his interest in this glorious inlieritance ; and being now going to the possession of it, seeing so much of this happy change, he said, " Death was more desirable than life ; he had rather die than live any longer here." As to the manner of his death, he said, " When I have considered others under these circumstances, I have thought it very dreadful ; but now God hath called me to it, I bless God I have quite other apprehensions of it. I can now cheerfully embrace it as an easy passage to glory: and though death separates from the enjoyments of each other here, it will be but for a very short time, and then we shall meet with such enjoyments as now Ave cannot conceive, and for ever rejoice in each other's happiness." Then reading the Scriptures and musing within himself, he intimated the great comfort God conveyed to his soul in it; saying, " O, what an invaluable treasure is this blessed word of God ! in all con- ditions here is a store of strong consolation. One desiring his bible, he said, " No, this shall be my companion to the last moment of my life." Thus praying together, reading, meditating, and convers- ing of heavenly things, the prisoners waited for the sheriff, who, when he came, void of all pity or civility, hurried them away, scarce suffering them to take leave of their friends. But notwithstanding this, and the doleful mourning of all about them, the joyfulness of Hewling's coun- tenance was increased. Thus he left his prison, and thus he appeared on the sledge, where he sat about half an hour, before the officers coald force the horses to draw, at which they were greatly enraged; there being no visible obstruction iiOOK OF MARTYRS. fi62 from \<^eight or way. Bat at last the mayor and sheriff hauled them forward themselves, Balaam like driving the horses. When they came to the place of execution, which was surrounded with spectators, many that waited their coming with great sorrow, said, that when they saw Hewling and the others come with such cheerfulness and joy, and evidence of the presence of God with them, it made death appear with another aspect. They first embraced each other with the greatest afl'ection ; then two of the elder persons praying audibly, the others joined with great seriousness. Then Hewling desired leave of the sheriff to pray particularly, but he would not grant it, only asked him if he would pray for the king? He answered, " I pray for all men." He then requested they might sing a psalm ; the sheriff told him, " It must be with the ropes about their necks ;" which they cheerfully ac- cepted, and sung with such heavenly joy and sweetness, that many pre- sent said, " It both broke and re- joiced their hearts." Thus in the experience of the delightfulness of praising God on earth, he willingly closed his eyes on a vain world, to pass to that eternal employment, September 30, 1685. All persons present were ex- ceedingly affected and amazed. Some officers that had before in- sultingly said, " Surely these per- sons have no thoughts of death, but will find themselves surprised by it," afterwards acknowledged that " They now saw he and they had something extraordinary within, that carried tliem through with such joy." Others of them said, that " They were convinced of their happiness, that they would be glad to change conditions with them." Some of the most malicious persons in the place, from whom nothing but railing was expected, said, (as they were carried to their grave in Taunton church, voluntarily accompanied by most of the inhabitants of the towu) iMi " These persons had left a suffioiefat evidence, that they were now glo- rified saints ih heaven." Mr. Benjamin Hewling, about two hours before his death, wrote the following letter to his mother, which shewed the great composure of his mind. Taunton, Septemher 30, 1685. Honoured Mother, That news which I know you have a great while feared, and Ave ex- pected, I must now acquaint you with, that notwithstanding the hopes you gave in your two last letters, warrants are come down for my ex- ecution, and within these few hours I expect it to be performed. Bless- ed be the Almighty God, that gives comfort and support in such a day ; how ought we to magnify his holy name for all his mercies, that wheft we were running in a course of sin, he should stop us in full career, and shew us that Christ whom we pierc- ed, and out of his free grace enable us to look upon him with an eye of faith, believing him able to save to the utmost all such as come to him. Oh, admirable, long-suffering pa- tience of God, that when we were dishonouring his name, he did not take that time to bring honour to himself by our destruction ! But he delighted not in the death of a sinner, but had rather he should turn to him and live ; and he has many ways of bringing his own to himself. Blessed be his holy name, that through affliction he has taught my heart in some measure to be conformable to his will, which worketh patience, and patience worketh experience, and experi- ence hope, which maketh not ashamed. I bless God I am not ashamed of the cause for which I lay down my life ; and as I have en- gaged in it, and sought for it, so now I am going to seal it with my blood. The Lord carry on the same cause which hath been long on foot; and though we die in it, and for it, I question not but in his own good time he will raise up other instru- ments more worthy to carry it on to M«. BATTISCOMB. Mi the glory of Lis uanie and the ad- vancement of his church and peo- ple. Honoured mother, I know there has been nothing left undone by yon, or my friends, for the saving of my life : for which I return many hearty acknowledgments to your- self and them all ; and it is my dy- ing request to you and them to pardon all ondutifulness and un- kindness in every relation. Pray give my duty to my grandfather and grandmother, service to my uncles and aunts, and my dear love to all my sisters ; to every relation and friend a particular recommen- dation. Pray tell them all how precious an interest in Christ is when we come to die, and advise them never to rest in a Christless estate. For if we are his, it is no matter what the world do unto us ; they can but kill the body, and blessed be God the soul is out of their reach, for I question not but their malice wishes the damnation of that as well as the destruction of the body; which has too evi- dently appeared by their deceitful flattering promises. I commit you all to the care and protection of God, who has promised to be a father to the fatherless, and a hus- band to the widow, and to supply the want of every relation. The Lord God of heaven be your com- fort under those sorrows, and your refuge from those miseries, we may easily foresee coming upon poor England, and the poor distressed people of God in it. The Lord carry you through this vale of tears with a resigning, submissive spirit, and at last bring you to himself in glory ; where I question not but you will meet your dyino- son, Benjamin Hewling. mu. christopher battiscomb. This was another young gentle- man of a good family and estate in Dorsetshire. He had studied some time at the Temple, and hav- ing business in the country about the time of lord Russel's trial, he was seized, on suspicion of being concerned in the same plot of which his lordship was accused, and con- fined in the county gaol at Dor- chester, where he behaved himself with so much prudence, winning' sweetness, and innocent pleasantry of temper, as endeared him not only to his keepers and fellow- prisoners, but to persons of the best quality in that town, who visit- ed him in great numbers. How- ever, after he had been confined some time, it being found impossi- ble to prove any thing against him, he was set at liberty. When tha duke of Monmouth landed, he ap- peared with him, and served him with equal faith and valour, till the rout at Sedgeraoorc, when he fled with the rest, and escaping into Devonshire, was there seized, and brought to Dorchester, to his fbr- mer place of confinement. Mr. Battiscorab behaved himself there the second time in the same manner as he did at the first, though now he seemed more thoughtful and in earnest than before, as know- ing nothing was to be expect- ed but speedy death; though his courage never drooped, but was still the same, if it did not rather increase with his danger. At his trial Jeffreys railed at him with so much eagerness and barbarity, that he was obsened almost to foam upon the bench. He was so angry with him, because he was a lawyer, and could have been contented all such as he should be hanged up without any trial ; and inde-ed it would have made but little difi"er- ance in the result. In spite, how- ever, of his railings, Battiscomb was as undaunted at the bar, as in the field, or at his execution. How he demeaned himself in prison be- fore his death, we learn from the following account, written by his fiiends. One circumstance, not mentioned therein, must not be oniitted. Several young ladies in the town went to JeJTreys to inter- cede for his life, but the barbarous judge repulsed them, in so brutish a manner as nobody with one spark of humanity would have been guilty of, and in a manner even too un- civil to be mentioned. «64 BOOK OF iMARTYRS. " Mr. Battiscomb was obsei veillo be ahvajs serious and cheerful, ready to entertain spiritual dis- course, manifesting afiection to God's people and his ordinances ; he seemed to be in a very calm in- difference to life or death, refer- Tine: himself to God to determine it, expressing; his ^rcat satisfaction at some opportunities of escape that were slipt. sayini?. That truly he sometimes thought the cause was too good to flee from suffering iu it, though he would use all lawful means for his life ; but the provi- dence of God having prevented this, he was sure it was best for him, for, he said, he blessed God he could look into eternity with comfort. He said, with respect to his rela- tions and friends, to whom his death would be afflictive, that he was will- ing to live, if God saw good ; but for his own part, he thought death much more desirable. He said, I have enjoyed enough of this world, but I never found any thing but vanity in it, no rest or satisfaction. God, who is an inhnite spiritual being, is the only suitable object for the soul of man, which is spiri- tual in its nature, and too large to be made happy by all that this world can afford, which is but sensual. Therefore, methinks, I see no rea- son why I should be unwilling to leave it by death, since our happi- ness can never be perfected till then, till we leave this body, where vye are so continually clogged with sin and vanity, frivolous and foolish trifles. Death iu itself is indeed terrible, and natural courage is too low to encounter it ; nothing but an interest in Christ can be our comfort in it, he said, which comfort I hope I have; intimating much advantage to his soul by his for- mer imprisonment. " When he went from Dorchester to Lyme, after he had received the news of his death the next day, he was in the same serious cheerful- ness, declaring still the same ap- prehension of'the desirableness of death, and the great supporis of bis mind under the thoughts of so sRddenly passing through it, alone from the hope of the security of his interest in Christ ; taking leave of his friends M'ith this farewell, Though we part here, we shall meet in heaven. Passing by his estate, goiug- to Lyme, he said, Farewell , temporal inheritance. I am now going to my heavenly, eternal one. At Lyme, the morning that he died, it appeared that he had the same supports from God, meeting death with the same cheerfulness; and after he had prayed a while to him- self, without any appearance of re- luctancy, yielded up his spirit, September 12, 1685." MR. WILLIAM JEXKVN. This gentleman was the only son of his father, who, having been con- fined in Newgate, died there in a short time, which very much irritat- ed the iilial piety of his son, and disposed him tojoin in any attempt against the government, for the purpose of revenging what he con- sidered as the murder of his parent. He expressed his discontent so loud- ly as to alarm the jealousy of the government, and he was according- ly apprehended, and confined in Tlchester gaol, where he lay till the duke of Monmouth came and re- leased the prisoners. Jenl^yn im- mediately joined his army, with which he continued till its total do- feat, after which he was taken in his attempt to escape, and v,as tried and found guilty at Dorchester. While in prison, he conducted himself with the utmost firmness and cheerfulness ; and to a friend discoursing with him about his par- don, and telling him the doubtful- ness of obtaining ^, he replied, " Well, death is the worst they can do, and I bless God, that will not surprise me, for I hope my great work is done." At Taunton, being advised to govern the airiness of his temper, and being told, it made people apt to censure him, as inconsiderate of his condition, he answered, "Truly, that is so much my natural temper that I cannot tell how to alter it; but I bless God I have, and do think se- riously of mv eternal concerns. I BENJAMIN^HEWLTNG. 865 do not allow myself to be vain, but I find cause to be cheerful, for my peace is made with God, through Jesus Christ my Lord ; this is my only o^round of comfort and cheer- fulness, the security of my interest in Christ : for 1 expect nothiuj? but death, and without this I am sure death would be most dreadful: but having tiie good hope of this, I can- not be melancholy." When he heard of the triumphant death of those that suflered at Lyme, he said, " This is a good en- couragement to depend upon God," Then, speaking about the mangling of their bodies, he said, '* Well, the resurrection will restore all with great advantage ; the fifteenth chapter of the Corinthians is com-, fort enough for all believers." Dis- coursing much of the certainty and felicity of the resurrection at another time, he said, " I will (as I think I ought) use all lawful means for the saving of my life, and t'len if God please to forgive me my sins, I hope I shall as cheerfully embrace death." Upon the design of at- tempting an escape, he said, " We use this means for the preserving of our lives, but if God is not with us, we shall not effect it ; it is our business first to apply to him for direction and success, if he sees good, with resigning our lives to him, and then his will be done." After the failure of the plan, and •when there was no prospect of any other opportunity, he spake much of the admirableness of God's pro- vidence in those things that seem most against us, bringing the great- est good out of them ; " for," said he, "we can see but a little way ; God only is wise in his disposal of us ; if we were left to choose for ourselves, we should choose our own misery,^' Afterwards, dis- coursing of the vanity and unsatis- factoriness of all things in this world, he said, " It is so in the en- joyment ; we never find our expec- tations answered by any thing in it, and when death comes it puts an end to all things we have been pur- suing here ; learning and know- FOX'S MARTVRS. ledge (which arc tlu) best thiug-s in this world) will then avail nothing ; nothing but an interest in Christ is then of any worth." On reading to his fellow-prisoners, Jer. xlii. 12, " I will shev/ mercy unto you, that he may have mercy upon you, and cause you to return to your own land;" he said, "Yes, we shall, but not in this world, I am per- suaded." September the 29th, at night, after he heard he must dio the next morning, he was exceedingly composed and cheerful, express- ing his satisfaction in the v/ill of God: the next morning he was still more spiritual and cheerful, discovering a very sweet serenity of mind in all he said or did: whilst he was waiting for the slie- riff', reading the Scriptures, medi- tating and conversing with those about him of divine matters, amongst other things he said, " I have heard much of t!ie glory of heaven, but I am now going to behold it, and understand what it is." Being desired to disguise himself to attempt an escape, he said, " No, I cannot tell how to disturb myself about it, and me- thinks it is not my business, now I have other things to take up my thoughts ; if God saw good to de- liver me, he would open some other door; but seeing he has not, it is more for the honour of his name that we should die, and so be it." One saying to him that most of the apostles died violent deaths, he replied, " Nay, a greater than the apostles, our Lord himself died, not only a shameful, but a painful death." He further said, " This manner of death hath been the most terrible thing in the world to my thoughts, but I bless Godi I am now neither afraid nor ashamed to die. The parting with my friends, and theif grief for me, is my greatest difli- culty; but it will be for a very short time, and we shall nteet again in endless joys, where my dear father is already entered ; him shall I presently joyfully 55 866 meet." Then nuising; with hini- selfa while, he with an extraordi- nary seriousness sung two verses of one of Herbert's divine poems. He then read tlie .5:id of Isaiah, and said. He had heard many blessed sermons from that chapter, especially from the (3th verse, " All we like sheep have gone astray, we have tnrueTe!ision. Hi; was a man of an (vxcciieiit oliaiacier, peaceable and liaruilcss, and had never served the Emperor Napoleon. Truphemy not knowinj;; him, he was pointed out, partaking of a frugal breakfast with ihe family. Truphemy ordered him to go along with him, adding, * Your friend, Saussine, is already in the other world.' Truphemy placed him in the middle of his troop, and art- fully ordered him to cry Vive VEm- pereur: he refused, adding he had never served the Emperor. In vain did the women and children of the house intercede for his life, and praise his amiable and virtuous qua- lities. He was marched to the Es- planade and shot, first by Truphemy and then by the others. Several per- sons, attracted by the firing, ap- proached, but were threjitcned with a similar fate. After some time the wretches departed, shouting Vive la Roi. Some women met them, and one of them appearing affected, said one, '1 have killed seven to-day for my share, and if you say a word, you shall be the eighth.' Pierre Cour- bct, a stocking weaver, was torn from his loom by an armed band, and shot at his own door. His eldest daughter was knocked down with the butt end of a musket ; and a poignard was held at the breast of Ills wife- while the mob plundered her apartments. Paul H^raut, a silk weaver, was literally cut in pieces, in the presence of a large crowd, and amidst the unavailing cries and tears of his wife and lour young children. The murderers only aban- doned the corpse to return to He- raut'a house and secure every thing valuable. The number of murders on this day could not be ascertained. One person saw six bodies at the Cours Neuf, and nine were carried to the hospital. If murder some time after became less frequent for a few days, pillage and forced contributions were ac- tively enforced, M. Salle d'Hom- bre, at several visits, was robbed of 7000 francs ; and, on one occasion, when he pleaded the sacrifices he had made, ' Look,' said a l);indit, point- ing to his pipe, ' liiis will set fire tw your house; and this,' l)randishinghis sword, ' will finish you.' No rojdy could be made to these arguments. M. Feline, a silk manufacturer, was robbed of 32,000 francs in gold, 3000 francs in silver, and several bales of silk. The small shopkeepers were con- tinually exposed to visits and de- mands of provisions, drapery, or whatever they sold ; and the same hands that set fire to the houses of the rich, and tore up the vines of the cultivator, broke the looms of the weaver, and stole the tools of the artisan. Desolation reigned in the sanctuary and in the city. The arm- ed bands, instead of being reduced, were increased; the fugitives, in- stead of returning, received constant accessions, and their friends who sheltered them were deemed rebel- lious. Those Protestants who re- mained were deprived of all their civil and religious rights, and even the ad- vocates and huissicrs entered into a resolution to exclude all of ' the pre- tended reformed religion' from their bodies. Those who were employed in selling tobacco were deprived of their licenses. The Protestant dea- cons who had the charge of tlie poor were all scattered. Of five pastors only two remained ; one of these was obliged to change his residence, and could only venture to administer the consolations of religion, or perform the functions of his ministry, under cover of the night. Not contented with these modes of torment, calumnious and inflam- matory publications charged the Pro- testants with raising the proscribed standard in the communes, and in- voking the fallen Napoleon ; and, of course, as unworthy the protection of the laws and the favour of the mo- narch. Hundreds after this were dragged to prison without even so much as a written order; and though an Ofiicial Newspaper, l)earing the title of the Journal dii Gard, was set up, for five months while it was influenced by the prefect, the mayor, and other functionaries, the word charter was never once used in it. One of the sss BOOK OF MARTYRS. first ntiinbcis, on tlic contrary, rc- ])roscnted llic sulFcring Frotestaiils as ' Crocodiles, only weeping from rage and regret that they liad no mure victims to devour ; as persons who liad surpassed Dan ton, Marat, and Robespierre in doing mischief: and as having i)rostituted their daugh- ters to the garrison to gain it over to Napoleon.' An extract froni this ar- ticle, stamped with the crown and the arms of the Bourbons, was hawk- ed about the streets, and the vender was adorned with the medal of the police. PETITION OF THE PROTESTANT UEFUGEtS. To these reproaches it is proper to oppose the Petition which the Pro- testant Refugees in Paris presented to Louis XVIII, in behalf of their brethren at Nismes. ' We lay at your feet, Sire, our acute sufferings. In your name our fellow citizens are slaughtered, and their property laid waste. Misled peasants, in pretended obedience to your orders, had assembled at the command of a commissioner ap- pointed by your august nephew. Although ready to attack us, they were received with the assurances of jteace. On the 15th of July, 1815, we learnt your Majesty's entrance in- to Paris, and the while flag immedi- ately waved on our edihccs. The public tranquillity had not been dis- turbed, when armed peasants intro- duced themselves. The garrisiju ca- pitulated, but were assailed er of the bell. As the hour of service ap- proached, a number of men, women, and children, collected at the house of M. Ribot, the pastor, and threat- ened to prevent the worship. At the appointed time, when he pro- ceeded towards the church, he was surrounded ; the most savage shouts were raised against him ; some of the women seized him by the collar; but nothing could disturb his firm- ness, or excite his impatience : he entered the house of prayer, and ascended the pulpit : stones M'ore thrown in and fell among tl»e wor- shippers; still the congregation re- mained calm and attentive, and Ihc service was concluded amidst noise, threats, and outrage. On retiring many would have been killed but for the chasseurs of the garrison, who ho- nourably and zealously protected them. From the Captain of these Chasseurs M. Ribot soon after re- ceived the following letlter. 'January 2, 1816. ' I deeply lament the prejudices of the Catholics against the Protestants, who they pretend do not love the king. Continue to act as you have hitherto done, and time and your conduct will convince the Catholics of the contrary: should any tumult occur similar to that of Saturday last, inform me. I preserve my reports of these acts, and if the agitators prove incorrigible, and forget what they owe to the best of kings and the charter, I will do my duty, and inform the government of t.'ieir proceedings. Adieu, my dear Sir ; assure llie Con- sistor}' of my esteem, and of the sense I entertain of the moderation witJi which they have met the provo- cations of the evil-disposed at Som- mieres. 1 have the honour to salute you with respect. SUVAL DE LaINE.' Another letter to this wortliy pastor from the Marquis de Montlord, was received on the 6th of January, to encourage him to unite with all good men who believe in God to obtain the punishment of the assassins, bri- gands, and disturbers of public tran- quility, and to read the instructions he had received from government to this effect publicly. Notwithstand- ingthis, on the 20th of January 1816, when the service in commemoration of the death of Louis XVI was cele- brated, a procession being formed, the National Guards fired at the white flag suspended from the win- dows of the Protestants, and con- cluded the day by plundering their houses. In the Commune of Angar- gues, matters were still worse; and in that of Fontanes, from the entry of the Ring in 1815, the Catholics broke 8.92 BOOK OF MARTYRS. all (crms wilii the Protestants; by day they insulted them, and in the iiig^ht broke open their doors, or marked them with clialk to be plun- dered or burnt. St. Mamert was repeatedly visited by these robberies; and at Montmiral, as lately as the 16th of June 1816, the Protestants Mere attacked, beaten and imprison- ed for daring to celebrate the return of a king who had sworn to preserve religious liberty and to maintain the charter. lu fact, to continue the relation of the scenes that took place in the ditt'erent departments of the South of France, would be little better than a repetition of those we have already described, excepting a change of names : but the most san- guinary of all seems that which was perpetrated at Uzfes, at the latter end of August, and the burning of several Protestant places of worship. These shameful persecutions continued till after the dissolution of the Chamber of Deputies at the close of the year 1816. After a review of these anti- protestant proceedings, the British reader will not think of comparing them with the riots of London in 1780, or with those of Eirminghani about 1793; as it is evident that where governments possess absolute power, such events could not have been pro- longed for many months and even for years over a vast extent of country, had it not been for the systematic and powerful support of the higher departments of the state. FURTHER ACCOUNT OF THE PROCEED- INGS OF THE CATHOLICS AT NISMES. The excesses perpetrated in the country it seems did not by any means divert the attention of the persecutors from Nismes. October 1815 commenced without any im- provement in the principles or the measures of the government, and this was followed by corresponding presumption on the part of the people. Several houses in the Quar- tier St. Charles were sacked, and their wrecks burnt in the streets, amidst songs, dances, and shouts of Vive le Roi. The Mayor appeared, but the merry multitude pretended not to know him, and when he ven- tured to remonstrate, tlicy told him 'his presence was unnecessary, and that lie might retire.' During the 16th of October, every preparation seemed to announce a night of car- nage; orders for assembling and signals for attack were circulated with regularity and confidence ; Tres- taillon reviewed his satellites, and urged them on to the perpetration of crimes, holding with one of those wretches the following dialogue: Satellite. 'If all the Protestants, without one exception, are to be killed, I will cheerfully join ; but as you have so often deceived me, un- less they are all to go, 1 will not stir.' Trestaillon. 'Come along then, for this time not a single man shall escape.' — This horrid purpose would have been executed had it not been for General La Garde, the Com- mandant of the department. It was not till ten o'clock at night that he perceived the danger; he now felt that not a moment could be lost. Crowds were advancing through the suburbs, and the streets were filling with ruffians, uttering the most hor- rid imprecations. The Generale sounded at eleven o'clock, and added to the confusion that was now spread- ing through the city. A few troops rallied round the Count La Garde, who was wrung with distress at the sight of the evil which had arrived at such a pitch. Of this M. Durand, a Catholic advocate, gave the fol- lowing account ; ' It was near midnight, my wife had just fallen asleep; I was writing by her side, when we were disturbed by a distant noise: drums seemed crossing the town in every direction. What could all this mean ! To quiet her alarms, I said it probably an- nounced the arrival or departure of some troops of the garrison. But firing and shouts were immediately audible; and on opening my win- dow I distinguished horrible impre- cations mingled with cries of Vive le Roi! I roused an officer who lodged in the house, and M. Chancel, Di- rector of the Public Works, We went out together, and gained the Boulevardc. The moon shone bright , FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1S14 to 1820. 803 and every object was nearly as dis- tinct as da}; a furious crowd was pressing on, vowing extcrnii nation, and tlie greater part half naked, armed with knives, muskets, sticks, and sabres. In answer to my en- quiries, I was told the massacre v, as general; that many had been already killed in the suburbs. M. Chancel retired to put on his uniform as Captain of the Pompiers; the officc Pagan temple destroyed, 71 Palmer, Julius, life of, burnt at New- berry, 5R7 Papists, modern, clamour and falsehoods adopted by, 678. 679' account of their genera! attempts to overthrow the Protestant govern- ment of England, from the accession of Queen Elizabeth to the reign of George 11. 782 consiiiracy,horud, against James I, commoiilv known by tl^e name of the* Gunpowder Plot, 794, 79B horrid plot of, for buniini; the city of London, 813, 818 Patriots, Protestant, persecutions of emi- nent, H27 Paul, the P.ishop of Constantinoi)!^, 62 Pearson, Anthony, persecution of, 283 Perfectus, account of, 86 Persecution, the first primitive, under Nero, S — second, undfr Domitian, 10 —third, under the Roman E!n))crors, 12 — fourth, under the same, 14 — fifth, 20— sixth, 2.3— s.-vei;tli, 24 — eip:htli, 29-i— ninth, 34— tenth L'eneral, under tile Roman Emperors, .3" Persecu i ii";, deaths, aod mariyrdoms at Canl.iiii.y, 484 • »)f various persotis after the di,;i;, i)f Ciaiiiner, 553— at Ij)swich, 554 — .Wilts, 554, 55(j — Essex, 556, 557 — Smith.field, 559 •^ —__- of many eminent Protestant patriots, 827 — Mr. College, i/i. — Ai- thur, Earl of Esse.<, 8.30— William Lord Rtissel, 831 — execution of, 837 — • Walcot, Hone, and Rouse, 8.38 — Al- gernon Sydney, Esq 840, 846— Mr. James Holloway, 846 — Sir Thomas Armstrong, 848, 849 — . in the south of Fiance, 881- Persecutors and blasphemers of God's people, severe punishment of : Stephen Gardiner, 766, 768 — Morgan, of St. David's, lA.— Bishop Thornton, /*. — a bishop of Dovti, li.— Alexandej, INDEX. 90S the keeper of Newgate, 768— Dr. Story, 763 — names of lliose deprived and imprisoned durinj? the persecu- tions, 770— Poor Lazarus and the rich glutton, 778, 773 — a young gentleman in Cornwall, ib. — Henry Smith, 774 Persecutors, foreign, examples of God's judgments upon, 774, 777 Persia, persecutions in, b9, GO Persons, various, punished for abstaining from hearing Mass, 57 1 — , account of the last five, that suf- fered in Queen Mary's reign, 087,690 Philip of Heraclea, 48 Philpot, Mr. John, history and martyr- dom of, 485 — examination of, by Bish- op Bonner and others, 488, 494, 508 — his death, 514 — Letter from, 515 Piedmont, massacre of prolestants in, 177 — ■ vallevs, persecutions in the,189, 197, 202 Plaise, Matthew, troubles and examina- tions of, 614, G16 Plot, the meal tub, account of, 826 Policy, Margaret, the first female martyr in England, 441 Pomerania, persecutions in, 176, 177 Pope, cruelties of the, 99 Popery, Mr. Gavin's Master Key to, 137 Popesjtheirgreatascendancy formerly, 222 i power of the, arguments for and against, 247, 248 Portugal, inquisition of, 123 Prague, persecutions at, 89 Preaching, method of, in Popish times, 280 Prest, Elizabeth, sufferings, examination, and death of, 685, 687 Primitive Christians, method of torturing them, 129, 130, 152 Proclamation, issued by Queen Mary, 596 Protector, fJuke of Somerset, fall of the, 364, 373 Protestant Martyrs, popish custom of throwing their dead bodies into the fields, 484 Patriots, persecutions of many eminent, 827 ■ religion in Ireland, riseand pro- gress of the, 798, 813 Protestants in France, persecutions of, un- der Louis XIV, 212, 216 • i — , thirteen apprehended in Es- sex, 569— condemned and burnt toge- ther by Bonner, 671 — , ultimate resolutions of the, at Ni^mes, 898 Q Quarters, human, set up in Guildhall, 853 Queen Mary and a Bishop, 372 , treatise on the ill success of, 763, 750 coHtparad to Jezebel, 679 Queen Mary, death of, 690, 763— .reBec- tions upou,69l, 703,706 Queen Elizabeth, birth of, 246 brought to London, and- sent prisoner to the Tower, 749, 750. — lier irt-atment there, 763 — is removed to Richmond, 755 — Windsor juid Woodstock, 757 — Hampton Court, 76ti- — has an iiitervie-v with Queen Mary, 761 — takes refuge in Coventry, 797 -speech of to her Army at Tilbury, 791 Queen Catherine Howard, execution of, 279 Quietists, the persecution of, 21 1, 212 R Ramus, Peter, 158 Rawlins,White, a poor fisherman,4 15,4 17 Rebellion in Devonshire, 362 in Lincolnshire and Yorkshire, 267 Reformation, the, in England, brief his- tory of, 221 progress of the, under Hen- ry VIII, 231 ■ — Ed- ward VI, 347, 352 Religious houses, dissolution of the great- est, 269 Religion, the protestant, subverted under Queen Mary, 382 — her accession u> um throne, 383 Rhodes, island of, attacked by the luckj, 184 Ridley, Bishop of London, life and suf- ferings of, 468, 474 Rood, the, of Dover Court, burnt, 312 I{ogers, Rev. J ohn, martyrdom of, 386,383 Roras, heroic defence of the Protestants of, 203 Rose, Thomas, a preacher, examinations of, 736, 738 Rough, the Rev. John and Margaret Manning, martyrdom of, 652, 655 letters from, to his friends, 655 — to his congregation, 65G Samuel, Rev. Robert, and others in Nor- folk, burnt, 454 Sancerre, Siege of, 163, 164 Sands, Dr. troubles and deliverance of, 739, 746 Saracens, massacres by the, 84 Saunders, Laurence, martyrdom of, 088, ;j93 Saviour, brief history of our, 2 Savoy, noble conduct of the Duke of, 189, I'.^O Schism, great, in the Church of Rome,225 Scotland, persecutions in, 327 904 INDEX. Scotland, defeat of tticE. of Argyle in,834 Scourging, the, inflicted by the papists, a treatise upon, G91 • of Richard Wilmot, and Tho- mas Fairfax, 696 — ^ of Thomas Green, 696 of Robert Williams, 701 of James Harris, 700 — — — of a poor starved beggir, 701 Siege of Bezieres, 105, 106 Sancerre, 163, 164 Vienna bv the Turks, 185 Silver Child, history of the, 882 Simon, Earl, defeated by the Albigenses before Toulouse, 1 1 1 Simson, Cuthbert, racked in the Tower, 658— examined by Bonner, 659 — burnt with two other persons, in Smithfield, 660 Six articles, act of the, 272 Smith, Robert, a martyr, 450, 451 Smith, Mr. of Chardstock, 867 Smithfield, martyrs burnt at, 606, 651 Soldiers, a legion of christian, massacre of, 35 Somerset the Protector, fall of, 364, 370 —death and character of, 374 South of France, persecutions in the, 881, 89S Spain, French Commander in, retaliates upon the Inquisitors, 136, 137 Speed, Mr. of Culliton, 868 Spurdance, Thomas, a martyr, examina- tions of, 644, 647 Stanislaus, Bishop of Cracow, 95 Sufferers, various, under Bishop Bonner, 525, 525 Sufferings of the Rev. Mr. Johnson, 853 Tankerfield, G., burnt at St. Albans, 448 Taylor, Dr. Rowland, sufferings and death of, 400, 408 Temples, numerous, of idols destroyed, 71 Testament new, translation of, by Tin- dal, 235, 254 Testwood, Robert, persecution of, 282 Tilly, Count, monstrous cruelties of, 177 Tindal's translation of the New Testa- ment, 253, 254 Tindall, Will, life and death of, 320, 327 Torturing practised by the Inquisition, 125 Toulouse, Earl of, 108 — — — surrender of the city of, 109 — ^ recovered, 111 Treachery, iiifamous and horrid, l07,I08» 128 Translation of the Bible propo.sed,26 1,262" Treaty of Westphalia, violation of, 178 Truphemy, the Catholic butcher, 886 Turkey, persecutions in, 183 Turks, the, take Constantinople, 184 Tyranny of the Duke of York, 854 Valerian, the Emperor, fate of, 33, 34 Vandals, Arian, persecute christians, 71, 72 Vassy, massacre of, 134 Vengeance of God against persecutors, 57* 5S Venice, persecutions in that city, 194 Vienna, siege of, bv the Turks, 185 Villages, French, pilbged, 890 Visitation to all the Churches, 352, 354 ■ ' general, of Monasteries,259,267 I of Cambridge, 363 a new, 359, 360 W Waldenses, the, persecuted in France, 9& tenets of the, 98, 100 progress of the, 101 how treated, 191, 192 Waldo, Peter, accusations of, against Po- pery, 97 Wallace, Adam, martyrdom of, 343 Westphalia, treaty of, violated, 178 Wickliffe and his defenders, account ofy 224 , translation of the bible, by ,226 tenets avowed by, 227 Wickliffites, burning of the, 227 ' increase of their doctrine, 228 Whittle, Rev. Thomas, history of,52 1 ,523 Winceslaus, Duke of Bohemia, 87, 88 Wishart, Mr. George, life, sufferings, and martyrdom of, 33'j, 342 Woodman, Mr. |)ersecutedby an apostate priest, 6l6, 619 Wolsey, Cardinal, disgraced, 240 Woman, a blind, burnt at Derby, 594 Women, three, and an infant, burnt i« Guernsey, 589 Yeoman, Richard, history of, 675 York, Duke of, his tyranny, 8.54 Young, Elizabeth, examinations of, 707, 714. Janice tJOIHploll, I'llllll'l', Mil^Lti Stiefl, CiDlli r.iii-, Loiidt)iu