Foxes Book of Martyrs
Foxes Book of Martyrs
Foxes Book of Martyrs
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XX.
Fox's Book of Martyrs, by John Foxe 2
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Language: English
OR
A HISTORY OF THE
OF THE
FROM THE
INTRODUCTION OF CHRISTIANITY
TO THE
PERSECUTIONS
LIKEWISE
PREFACE.
This work is strictly what its title page imports, a COMPILATION. Fox's
"Book of Martyrs" has been made the basis of this volume. Liberty,
however, has been taken to abridge wherever it was thought necessary;--to
alter the antiquated form of the phraseology; to introduce additional
information; and to correct any inaccuracy respecting matters of fact, which
had escaped the author of the original work, or which has been found
erroneous by the investigation of modern research.
The object of this work, is to give a brief history of persecution since the
first introduction of christianity, till the present time. In doing this, we have
commenced with the martyrdom of Stephen, and following the course of
Fox's Book of Martyrs, by John Foxe 5
events, have brought the History of persecution down to the year 1830. In
all ages, we find that a disposition to persecute for opinion's sake, has been
manifested by wicked men, whatever may have been their opinions or
sentiments on religious subjects. The intolerant jew, and the bigoted pagan,
have exhibited no more of a persecuting spirit, than the nominal professor
of christianity, and the infidel and the avowed atheist. Indeed, it seems to
be an "inherent vice," in unsanctified nature to endeavour by the pressure of
physical force, to restrain obnoxious sentiments, and to propagate favourite
opinions. It is only when the heart has been renewed and sanctified by
divine grace, that men have rightly understood and practised the true
principles of toleration. We do not say that none but real christians have
adopted correct views respecting civil and religious liberty;--but we affirm
that these views owe their origin entirely to christianity and its genuine
disciples.
Though nearly all sects have persecuted their opponents, during a brief
season, when men's passions were highly excited, and true religion had
mournfully declined, yet no denomination except the papal hierarchy, has
adopted as an article of religious belief, and a principle of practical
observance, the right to destroy heretics for opinion's sake. The decrees of
councils, and the bulls of popes, issued in conformity with those decrees,
place this matter beyond a doubt. Persecution, therefore, and popery, are
inseparably connected; because claiming infallibility, what she has once
done is right for her to do again; yea, must be done under similar
circumstances, or the claims of infallibility given up. There is no escaping
this conclusion. It is right, therefore, to charge upon popery, all the
persecutions and horrid cruelties which have stained the annals of the papal
church during her long and bloody career of darkness and crime. Every sigh
which has been heaved in the dungeons of the Inquisition--every groan
which has been extorted by the racks and instruments of torture, which the
malice of her bigoted votaries, stimulated by infernal wisdom, ever
invented, has witnessed in the ear of God, against the "Mother of Harlots;"
and those kings of the earth, who giving their power to the "Beast" have
aided her in the cruel work of desolation and death. The valleys of
Piedmont, the mountains of Switzerland, the vine crowned hills of Italy and
France--and all parts of Germany and the low countries, have by turns, been
Fox's Book of Martyrs, by John Foxe 6
lighted by the fires of burning victims, or crimsoned with the blood of those
who have suffered death at the hands of the cruel emissaries of popery.
England too, has drunken deep of the "wine of the fierceness of her wrath,"
as the blood of Cobham, and the ashes of the Smithfield martyrs can testify.
Ireland and Scotland, likewise, have each been made the theatre of her
atrocities. But no where has the system been exhibited in its native
unalleviated deformity, as in Spain, Portugal and their South American
dependencies. For centuries, such a system of police was established by the
Holy Inquisitors, that these countries resembled a vast whispering gallery,
where the slightest murmur of discontent could be heard and punished.
Such has been the effect of superstition and the terror of the Holy Office,
upon the mind, as completely to break the pride of the Castillian noble, and
make him the unresisting victim of every mendicant friar and
"hemp-sandaled monk."
Moreover, the papal system has opposed the march of civilization and
liberty throughout the world, by denouncing the circulation of the Bible,
and the general diffusion of knowledge. Turn to every land where popery
predominates, and you will find an ignorant and debased peasantry, a
profligate nobility, and a priesthood, licentious, avaricious, domineering
and cruel.
But it may be asked, is popery the same system now as in the days of
Cardinal Bonner and the "Bloody Mary." We answer yes. It is the boast of
all catholics that their church never varies, either in spirit or in practice. For
evidence of this, look at the demonstrations of her spirit in the persecutions
in the south of France, for several years after the restoration of the
Bourbons, in 1814. All have witnessed with feelings of detestation, the
recent efforts of the apostolicals in Spain and Portugal, to crush the friends
of civil and religious liberty in those ill-fated countries. The narrative of
Asaad Shidiak, clearly indicates that the spirit of popery, has lost none of
its ferocity and bloodthirstiness since the Piedmontese war, and the
Bartholomew massacre. Where it has power, its victims are still crushed by
the same means which filled the dungeons of the inquisition, and fed the
fires of the auto de fe.
Fox's Book of Martyrs, by John Foxe 7
This is the religion, to diffuse which, strenuous efforts are now making in
this country. Already the papal church numbers more than half a million of
communicants. This number is rapidly augmenting by emigration from
catholic countries, and by the conversion of protestant children who are
placed in their schools for instruction. The recent events in Europe, will, no
doubt, send to our shores hundreds of jesuit priests, with a portion of that
immense revenue which the papal church has hitherto enjoyed. Another
thing, which will, no doubt, favour their views, is the disposition
manifested among some who style themselves liberalists, to aid catholics in
the erection of mass houses, colleges, convents and theological seminaries.
This has been done in numerous instances; and when a note of warning is
raised by the true friends of civil and religious liberty, they are treated as
bigots by those very men who are contributing of their substance to diffuse
and foster the most intolerant system of bigotry, and cruel, unrelenting
despotism, the world has ever seen. Other sects have persecuted during
some periods of their history; but all now deny the right, and reprobate the
practice except catholics. The right to destroy heretics, is a fundamental
article in the creed of the papal church. And wherever her power is not
cramped, she still exercises that power to the destruction of all who oppose
her unrighteous usurpation. All the blood shed by all other christian sects,
is no more in comparison to that shed by the papacy, than the short lived
flow of a feeble rill, raised by the passing tempest, to the deep
overwhelming tide of a mighty river, which receives as tributaries, the
waters of a thousand streams.
We trust the present work, therefore, will prove a salutary check to the
progress of that system whose practical effects have ever been, and ever
must be, licentiousness, cruelty, and blood.
The narratives of Asaad Shidiak, Mrs. Judson, the persecutions in the West
Indies, and in Switzerland, have never before been incorporated in any
book of Martyrs. They serve to show the hideous nature of persecution, and
the benefit of christian missions.
At the close of this volume will be found a sketch of the French revolution
of 1789, as connected with persecution. It has long been the practice of
Fox's Book of Martyrs, by John Foxe 8
introduce disorder and wild misrule. We trust, therefore, that the article on
the revolution in France, will be found highly instructive and useful.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. 10
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Martyrdom of St. Stephen, James the Great, and Philip 16 Matthew, James
the Less, Matthias, Andrew, St. Mark and Peter 17 Paul, Jude,
Bartholomew, Thomas, Luke, Simon, John, and Barnabas 18
CHAPTER II. 11
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
PAPAL PERSECUTIONS.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
The words and behaviour of Lady Jane upon the scaffold 204 John Rogers,
Vicar of St. Sepulchre's, &c. 205 The Rev. Mr. Lawrence Saunders 207
History, imprisonment, and examination of John Hooper 209 Life and
conduct of Dr. Rowland Taylor, of Hadley 212 Martyrdom of Tomkins,
Pygot, Knight, and others 214 Dr. Robert Farrar 216 Martyrdom of Rawlins
White 217 The Rev. Mr. George Marsh 218 William Flower 220 The Rev.
John Cardmaker, and John Warne 221 Martyrdom of Simpson, Ardeley,
Haukes, and others 222 Rev. John Bradford, and John Leaf, an apprentice
223 Martyrdom of Bland, Middleton, Hall, Carver and many others 225
John Denley, Packingham, and Newman 226 Coker, Hooper, Lawrence and
others 227 The Rev. Robert Samuel 227 G. Catmer, R. Streater and others
228 Bishops Ridley and Latimer 228 Mr. John Webb and others 233
Martyrdom of Rev. F. Whittle, B. Green, Anna Wright, and others 235 An
account of Archbishop Cranmer 236 Martyrdom of Agnes Potten, Joan
Trunchfield and others 245 Hugh Laverick and John Aprice 246
Preservation of George Crow and his Testament 247 Executions at
Stratford le Bow 247 R. Bernard, A. Foster and others 248 An account of
Rev. Julius Palmer 248 Persecution of Joan Waste 249 Persecutions in the
Diocese of Canterbury 251 T. Loseby, H. Ramsey, T. Thirtell and others
252 Executions in Kent 252 Execution of ten martyrs at Lewes 254 Simon
Miller and Elizabeth Cooper 255 Executions at Colchester 255 Mrs. Joyce
Lewes 257 Executions at Islington 259 Mrs. Cicely Ormes 261 Rev. John
Rough 262 Cuthbert Symson 263 Thomas Hudson, Thomas Carman,
William Seamen 264 Apprehensions at Islington 265 Flagellations by
Bonner 271 Rev. Richard Yeoman 272 Thomas Benbridge 274 Alexander
Gouch and Alice Driver 275 Mrs. Prest 276 Richard Sharpe, Thomas
Banion and Thomas Hale 280 T. Corneford, C. Browne, and others 280
William Fetty scourged to death 282 Deliverance of Dr. Sands 285 Queen
Mary's treatment of her sister, the Princess Elizabeth 288 God's
punishments upon some of the persecutors of his people in Mary's reign
295
CHAPTER XIV. 23
CHAPTER XIV.
The destruction of the Armada 298 A conspiracy by the Papists for the
destruction of James I, commonly known by the name of the Gunpowder
Plot 310
CHAPTER XV. 24
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
The arrival of king Louis XVIII at Paris 346 The history of the Silver Child
346 Napoleon's return from the Isle of Elba 347 The Catholic arms at
Beaucaire 348 Massacre and pillage at Nismes 349 Interference of
government against the Protestants 350 Letters from Louvois to Marillac
351 Royal decree in favour of the persecuted 352 Petition of the Protestant
refugees 354 Monstrous outrage upon females 355 Arrival of the Austrians
at Nismes 356 Outrages committed in the Villages, &c. 357 Further
account of the Proceedings of the Catholics at Nismes 360 Attack upon the
Protestant churches 361 Murder of General La Garde 363 Interference of
the British government 363 Perjury in the case of General Gilly, &c. 365
Ultimate resolution of the Protestants at Nismes 367
CHAPTER XVIII. 27
CHAPTER XVIII.
ASAAD SHIDIAK.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
John Wickliffe 464 Martin Luther 468 John Calvin 473 Agency of Calvin
in the death of Michael Servetus 475 Calvin as a friend of Civil Liberty 478
The life of the Rev. John Fox 482 Errors, rites, ceremonies, and
superstitious practices of the Romish church 487
CHAPTER XXIII. 32
CHAPTER XXIII.
BOOK OF MARTYRS
CHAPTER I. 33
CHAPTER I.
The history of the church may almost be said to be a history of the trials
and sufferings of its members, as experienced at the hands of wicked men.
At one time, persecution, as waged against the friends of Christ, was
confined to those without; at another, schisms and divisions have arrayed
brethren of the same name against each other, and scenes of cruelty and
woe have been exhibited within the sanctuary, rivalling in horror the direst
cruelties ever inflicted by pagan or barbarian fanaticism. This, however,
instead of implying any defect in the gospel system, which breathes peace
and love; only pourtrays in darker colours the deep and universal depravity
of the human heart. Pure and unsophisticated morality, especially when
attempted to be inculcated on mankind, as essential to their preserving an
interest with their Creator, have constantly met with opposition. It was this
which produced the premature death of John the Baptist. It was the cutting
charge of adultery and incest, which excited the resentment of Herodias,
who never ceased to persecute him, until she had accomplished his
destruction. The same observation is equally applicable to the Jewish
doctors, in their treatment of our blessed Lord and Saviour JESUS
CHRIST. In the sudden martyrdom of John the Baptist, and the crucifixion
of our Lord, the history of christian martyrdom must be admitted to
commence; and from these, as a basis for the subsequent occurrences, we
may fairly trace the origin of that hostility, which produced so lavish an
effusion of christian blood, and led to so much slaughter in the progressive
state of christianity.
As it is not our business to enlarge upon our Saviour's history, either before
or after his crucifixion, we shall only find it necessary to remind our
readers of the discomfiture of the Jews by his subsequent resurrection.
Though one apostle had betrayed him; though another had denied him,
under the solemn sanction of an oath; and though the rest had forsaken him,
unless we may except "the disciple who was known unto the high-priest;"
the history of his resurrection gave a new direction to all their hearts, and,
CHAPTER I. 34
after the mission of the Holy Spirit, imparted new confidence to their
minds. The powers with which they were endued emboldened them to
proclaim his name, to the confusion of the Jewish rulers, and the
astonishment of Gentile proselytes.
I. St. Stephen
ST. STEPHEN suffered the next in order. His death was occasioned by the
faithful manner in which he preached the gospel to the betrayers and
murderers of Christ. To such a degree of madness were they excited, that
they cast him out of the city and stoned him to death. The time when he
suffered is generally supposed to have been at the passover which
succeeded to that of our Lord's crucifixion, and to the æra of his ascension,
in the following spring.
Upon this a great persecution was raised against all who professed their
belief in Christ as the Messiah, or as a prophet. We are immediately told by
St. Luke, that "there was a great persecution against the church, which was
at Jerusalem;" and that "they were all scattered abroad throughout the
regions of Judea and Samaria, except the apostles."
About two thousand christians, with Nicanor, one of the seven deacons,
suffered martyrdom during the "persecution which arose about Stephen."
The next martyr we meet with, according to St. Luke, in the History of the
Apostles' Acts, was James the son of Zebedee, the elder brother of John,
and a relative of our Lord; for his mother Salome was cousin-german to the
Virgin Mary. It was not until ten years after the death of Stephen, that the
second martyrdom took place; for no sooner had Herod Agrippa been
appointed governor of Judea, than, with a view to ingratiate himself with
them, he raised a sharp persecution against the christians, and determined to
make an effectual blow, by striking at their leaders. The account given us
by an eminent primitive writer, Clemens Alexandrinus, ought not to be
overlooked; that, as James was led to the place of martyrdom, his accuser
CHAPTER I. 35
III. Philip.
Was born at Bethsaida, in Galilee, and was the first called by the name of
"Disciple." He laboured diligently in Upper Asia, and suffered martyrdom
at Heliopolis, in Phrygia. He was scourged, thrown into prison, and
afterwards crucified, A. D. 54.
IV. Matthew,
Is supposed by some to have been the brother of our Lord, by a former wife
of Joseph. This is very doubtful, and accords too much with the catholic
superstition, that Mary never had any other children except our Saviour. He
was elected to the oversight of the churches of Jerusalem; and was the
author of the epistle ascribed to James in the sacred canon. At the age of
ninety-four, he was beat and stoned by the Jews; and finally had his brains
dashed out with a fuller's club.
VI. Matthias,
CHAPTER I. 36
Of whom less is known than of most of the other disciples, was elected to
fill the vacant place of Judas. He was stoned at Jerusalem and then
beheaded.
VII. Andrew,
Was the brother of Peter. He preached the gospel to many Asiatic nations;
but on his arrival at Edessa, he was taken and crucified on a cross, the two
ends of which were fixed transversely in the ground. Hence the derivation
of the term, St. Andrew's Cross.
IX. Peter,
[It is, however, very uncertain, whether Peter ever visited Rome at all. The
evidence rather favouring the supposition that he ended his days in some
other country.--Ed.]
X. Paul,
The great apostle of the Gentiles, was a Jew of the tribe of Benjamin, a
native of Tarsus in Cilicia, and before his conversion was called Saul. After
suffering various persecutions at Jerusalem, Iconium, Lystra, Phillippi and
Thessalonica, he was carried prisoner to Rome, where he continued for two
CHAPTER I. 37
years, and was then released. He afterwards visited the churches of Greece
and Rome, and preached the gospel in Spain and France, but returning to
Rome, he was apprehended by order of Nero, and beheaded.
XI. Jude,
XII. Bartholomew,
XIII. Thomas,
Called Didymus, preached the gospel in Parthia and India, where exciting
the rage of the pagan priests, he was martyred by being thrust through with
a spear.
XIV. Luke,
The evangelist, was the author of the gospel which goes under his name. He
travelled with Paul through various countries, and is supposed to have been
hanged on an olive tree, by the idolatrous priests of Greece.
XV. Simon,
XVI. John,
The "beloved disciple," was brother to James the Great. The churches of
Smyrna, Pergamos, Sardis, Philadelphia, Laodicea, and Thyatira, were
CHAPTER I. 38
XVII. Barnabas,
Was of Cyprus, but of Jewish descent, his death is supposed to have taken
place about A. D. 73.
CHAPTER II. 39
CHAPTER II.
The first persecution of the church took place in the year 67, under Nero,
the sixth emperor of Rome. This monarch reigned for the space of five
years, with tolerable credit to himself, but then gave way to the greatest
extravagancy of temper, and to the most atrocious barbarities. Among other
diabolical whims, he ordered that the city of Rome should be set on fire,
which order was executed by his officers, guards, and servants. While the
imperial city was in flames, he went up to the tower of Macænas, played
upon his harp, sung the song of the burning of Troy, and openly declared,
"That he wished the ruin of all things before his death." Besides the noble
pile, called the circus, many other palaces and houses were consumed;
several thousands perished in the flames, were smothered in the smoke, or
buried beneath the ruins.
This dreadful conflagration continued nine days; when Nero, 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 glutting his sight with new cruelties. This was
the occasion of the first persecution; and the barbarities exercised on the
christians were such as even excited the commisseration of the Romans
themselves. Nero even refined upon cruelty, and contrived all manner of
punishments for the christians that the most infernal imagination could
design. 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 axletrees, and set on fire in his gardens, in order to
illuminate them. This persecution was general throughout the whole Roman
empire; but it rather increased than diminished the spirit of christianity. In
the course of it, St. Paul and St. Peter were martyred.
St. Paul, and fellow-labourer with him; Joseph, commonly called Barsabas;
and Ananias, bishop of Damascus; each of the seventy.
The emperor Domitian, who was naturally inclined to cruelty, first slew his
brother, and then raised the second persecution against the christians. In his
rage he put to death some of the Roman senators, some through malice; and
others to confiscate their estates. He then commanded all the lineage of
David to be put to death.
Among 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 afterward banished to Patmos. Flavia, the daughter of a
Roman senator, was likewise banished to Pontus; and a law was made,
"That no christian, once brought before the tribunal, should be exempted
from punishment without renouncing his religion."
Another hardship was, that, when any christians were brought before the
magistrates, a test oath was proposed, when, if they refused to take it, death
was pronounced against them; and if they confessed themselves christians,
the sentence was the same.
The following were the most remarkable among the numerous martyrs who
suffered during this persecution.
Timothy was the celebrated disciple of St. Paul, and bishop of Ephesus,
where he zealously governed the church till A. D. 97. At this period, as the
pagans were about to celebrate a feast called Catagogion, Timothy, meeting
the procession, severely reproved them for their ridiculous idolatry, which
so exasperated the people, 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.
thrown into the river, where she expired. With respect to the sons, they
were fastened to seven posts, and being drawn up by pullies, their limbs
were dislocated: these tortures, not affecting their resolution, they were
martyred by stabbing, except Eugenius, the youngest, who was sawed
asunder.
In Mount Ararat many were crucified, crowned with thorns, and spears run
into their sides, in imitation of Christ's passion. Eustachius, a brave and
successful Roman commander, was by the emperor ordered to join in an
idolatrous sacrifice to celebrate some of his own victories; but his faith
(being a christian in his heart) was so much greater than his vanity, that he
nobly refused it. Enraged at the denial, the ungrateful emperor forgot the
service of this skilful commander, and ordered him and his whole family to
be martyred.
CHAPTER II. 43
Many other similar cruelties and rigours were exercised against the
christians, until 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 severities, and relent in their favour.
Adrian dying A. D. 138, was succeeded by Antoninus Pius, one of the most
amiable monarchs that ever reigned, and who stayed the persecution against
the Christians.
The cruelties used in this persecution were such, that many of the spectators
shuddered with horror at the sight, and were astonished at the intrepidity of
the sufferers. Some of the martyrs were obliged to pass, with their already
wounded feet, over thorns, nails, sharp shells, &c. upon their points, others
were scourged till their sinews and veins lay bare, and after suffering the
most excruciating tortures that could be devised, they were destroyed by
the most terrible deaths.
Germanicus, a young man, but a true christian, being delivered to the wild
beasts on account of his faith, behaved with such astonishing courage, that
several pagans became converts to a faith which inspired such fortitude.
allowed, he prayed with such fervency, that his guards repented that they
had been instrumental in taking him. He was, however, carried before the
proconsul, condemned, and burnt in the market-place. Twelve other
christians, who had been intimate with Polycarp, were soon after martyred.
Metrodorus, a minister, who preached boldly; and Pionius, who made some
excellent apologies for the christian faith; were likewise burnt. Carpus and
Papilus, two worthy christians, and Agathonica, a pious woman, suffered
martyrdom at Pergamopolis, in Asia.
Januarius, the eldest, was scourged, and pressed to death with weights;
Felix and Philip, the two next had their brains dashed out with clubs;
Silvanus, the fourth, was murdered by being thrown from a precipice; and
the three younger sons, Alexander, Vitalis, and Martial, were beheaded.
The mother was beheaded with the same sword as the three latter.
great lover of truth, and a universal scholar; he investigated the Stoic and
Peripatetic philosophy, and attempted the Pythagorean; but the behaviour
of one of its professors disgusting him, he applied himself to the Platonic,
in which he took great delight. About the year 133, when he was thirty
years of age, he became a convert to christianity, and then, for the first
time, perceived the real nature of truth.
He kept a public school, taught many who afterward became great men, and
wrote a treatise to confute heresies of all kinds. As the pagans began to treat
the christians with great severity, Justin wrote his first apology in their
favour. This piece displays great learning and genius, and occasioned the
emperor to publish an edict in favor of the christians.
The second apology of Justin, upon certain severities, gave Crescens the
cynic an opportunity of prejudicing the emperor against the writer of it;
upon which Justin, and six of his companions, were apprehended. Being
commanded to sacrifice to the pagan idols, they refused, and were
condemned to be scourged, and then beheaded; which sentence was
executed with all imaginable severity.
Some of the restless northern nations having risen in arms against Rome,
the emperor marched to encounter them. He was, however, drawn into an
ambuscade, and dreaded the loss of his whole army. Enveloped with
CHAPTER II. 46
This affair occasioned the persecution to subside for some time, at least in
those parts immediately under the inspection of the emperor; but we find
that it soon after raged in France, particularly at Lyons, where the tortures
to which many of the christians were put, almost exceed the powers of
description.
When the christians, upon these occasions, received martyrdom, they were
ornamented, and crowned with garlands of flowers; for which they, in
heaven, received eternal crowns of glory.
CHAPTER II. 47
The torments were various; and, exclusive of those already mentioned, the
martyrs of Lyons were compelled to sit in red-hot iron chairs till their flesh
broiled. This was inflicted with peculiar severity on Sanctus, already
mentioned, and some others. Some were sewed up in nets, and thrown on
the horns of wild bulls; and the carcases of those who died in prison,
previous to the appointed time of execution, were thrown to dogs. Indeed,
so far did the malice of the pagans proceed that they set guards over the
bodies while the beasts were devouring them, lest the friends of the
deceased should get them away by stealth; and the offals left by the dogs
were ordered to be burnt.
The martyrs of Lyons, according to the best accounts we could obtain, who
suffered for the gospel, were forty-eight in number, and their executions
happened in the year of Christ 177.
Epipodius and Alexander were celebrated for their great friendship, and
their christian union with each other. The first was born at Lyons, the latter
at Greece. Epipodius, being compassionated by the governor of Lyons, and
exhorted to join in their festive pagan worship, replied, "Your pretended
tenderness is actually cruelty; and the agreeable life you describe is replete
with everlasting death Christ suffered for us, that our pleasures should be
immortal, and hath prepared for his followers an eternity of bliss. The
frame of man being composed of two parts, body and soul, the first, as
mean and perishable, should be rendered subservient to the interests of the
last. Your idolatrous feasts may gratify the mortal, but they injure the
immortal part; that cannot therefore be enjoying life which destroys the
most valuable moiety of your frame. Your pleasures lead to eternal death,
and our pains to perpetual happiness." Epipodius was severely beaten, and
then put to the rack, upon which being stretched, his flesh was torn with
iron hooks. Having borne his torments with incredible patience and
unshaken fortitude, he was taken from the rack and beheaded.
Valerian and Marcellus, who were nearly related to each other, were
imprisoned at Lyons, in the year 177, for being christians. The father was
fixed up to the waist in the ground; in which position, after remaining three
days, he expired, A. D. 179. Valerian was beheaded.
CHAPTER II. 48
But, though persecuting malice raged, yet the gospel shone with
resplendent brightness; and, firm as an impregnable rock, withstood the
attacks of its boisterous enemies with success. Turtullian, who lived in this
age, informs us, that if the christians had collectively withdrawn themselves
from the Roman territories, the empire would have been greatly
depopulated.
Victor, bishop of Rome, suffered martyrdom in the first year of the third
century, A. D. 201. Leonidus, the father of the celebrated Origen, was
beheaded for being a christian. Many of Origen's hearers likewise suffered
martyrdom; particularly two brothers, named Plutarchus and Serenus;
another Serenus, Heron, and Heraclides, were beheaded. Rhais had boiled
pitch poured upon her head, and was then burnt, as was Marcella her
mother. Potamiena, the sister of Rhais, was executed in the same manner as
Rhais had been; but Basilides, an officer belonging to the army, and
ordered to attend her execution, became her convert.
but he had no sooner confirmed the same, than he was dragged before the
judge, committed to prison, and speedily afterward beheaded.
Irenæus, bishop of Lyons, was born in Greece, and received both a polite
and a christian education. It is generally supposed, that the account of the
persecutions at Lyons was written 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, about A. D. 187, he
wrote a celebrated tract against heresy. Victor, the bishop of Rome,
wanting to impose the keeping of Easter there, in preference to other places,
it occasioned some disorders among the christians. In particular, Irenæus
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 in A. D. 202, he was beheaded.
was spared.
Calistus, bishop of Rome, was martyred, A. D. 224; but the manner of his
death is not recorded; and Urban, bishop of Rome, met the same fate A. D.
232.
The principal persons who perished under this reign were Pontianus, bishop
of Rome; Anteros, a Grecian, his successor, who gave offence to the
government, by collecting the acts of the martyrs, Pammachius and
Quiritus, Roman senators, with all their families, and many other christians;
Simplicius, senator; Calepodius, a christian minister, thrown into the Tyber;
Martina, a noble and beautiful virgin; and Hippolitus, a christian prelate,
tied to a wild horse, and dragged till he expired.
This was occasioned partly by the hatred he bore to his predecessor Philip,
who was deemed a christian, and partly to his jealousy concerning the
amazing increase of christianity; for the heathen temples began to be
forsaken, and the christian churches thronged.
These reasons stimulated Decius to attempt the very extirpation of the name
of christian; and it was unfortunate for the gospel, that many errors had,
about this time, crept into the church: the christians were at variance with
each other; self-interest divided those whom social love ought to have
united; and the virulence of pride occasioned a variety of factions.
Fabian, the bishop of Rome, was the first person of eminence who felt the
severity of this persecution. The deceased emperor, Philip, had, on account
of his integrity, committed his treasure to the care of this good man. But
Decius, not finding as much as his avarice made him expect, determined to
wreak his vengeance on the good prelate. He was accordingly seized; and
on the 20th of January, A. D. 250, he suffered decapitation.
Peter, a young man, amiable for the superior qualities of his body and
mind, was beheaded for refusing to sacrifice to Venus. He said, "I am
astonished you should 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 offer the true God the
acceptable sacrifice of praises and prayers." Optimus, the proconsul of
CHAPTER II. 52
Denisa, a young woman of only sixteen years of age, who beheld this
terrible judgment, suddenly exclaimed, "O unhappy wretch, why would you
buy a moment's ease at the expense of a miserable eternity!" Optimus,
hearing this, called to her, and Denisa avowing herself to be a christian, she
was beheaded, by his order, soon after.
The proconsul, finding that he could not prevail with them to renounce their
faith, condemned them to be burnt alive, which sentence was soon after
executed.
Trypho and Respicius, two eminent men, were seized as Christians, and
imprisoned at Nice. 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, February 1, A. D. 251.
Agatha, a Sicilian lady, was not more remarkable for her personal and
acquired endowments, than her piety: her beauty was such, that Quintian,
governor of Sicily, became enamoured of her, and made many attempts
upon her chastity without success.
In order to gratify his passions with the greater conveniency, he put the
virtuous lady into the hands of Aphrodica, a very infamous and licentious
woman. This wretch tried every artifice to win her to the desired
prostitution; but found all her efforts were vain; for her chastity was
impregnable, and she well knew that virtue alone could procure true
happiness. Aphrodica acquainted Quintian with the inefficacy of her
endeavours, who, enraged to be foiled in his designs, changed his lust into
resentment. On her confessing that she was a christian, he determined to
gratify his revenge, as he could not his passion. Pursuant to his orders, she
was 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 then being carried back to
prison, she there expired on the 5th of Feb. 251.
perform the sacrifices, and save his venerable person from destruction; for
he was now eighty-four years of age. The good prelate replied, that as he
had long taught others to save their souls, he should only think now of his
own salvation. The worthy prelate heard his fiery sentence without
emotion, walked cheerfully to the place of execution, and underwent his
martyrdom with great fortitude.
The persecution raged in no place more than the Island of Crete; for the
governor, being exceedingly active in executing the imperial decrees, that
place streamed with pious blood.
The first misfortune that happened to Antioch during his mission, was the
siege of it by Sapor, king of Persia; who, having overrun all Syria, took and
plundered this city among others, and used the christian inhabitants with
greater severity than the rest, but was soon totally defeated by Gordian.
Alexander, bishop of Jerusalem, about this time was cast into prison on
account of his religion, where he died through the severity of his
confinement.
Julianus, an old man, lame with the gout, and Cronion, another christian,
were bound on the backs of camels, severely scourged, and then thrown
CHAPTER II. 55
into a fire and consumed. Also forty virgins, at Antioch, after being
imprisoned and scourged, were burnt.
In the year of our Lord 251, the emperor Decius having erected a pagan
temple at Ephesus, he commanded all who were in that city to sacrifice to
the idols. This order was nobly refused by seven of his own soldiers, viz.
Maximianus, Martianus, Joannes, Malchus, Dionysius, Seraion, and
Constantinus. The emperor wishing to win these soldiers to renounce their
faith by his entreaties and lenity, gave them a considerable respite till he
returned from an expedition. During the emperor's absence, they escaped,
and hid themselves in a cavern; which the emperor being informed of at his
return, the mouth of the cave was closed up, and they all perished with
hunger.
Gallus, the emperor, having concluded his wars, a plague broke out in the
empire: sacrifices to the pagan deities were ordered by the emperor, and
persecutions spread from the interior to the extreme parts of the empire, and
many fell martyrs to the impetuosity of the rabble, as well as the prejudice
of the magistrates. Among these were Cornelius, the christian bishop of
Rome, and Lucius, his successor, in 253.
Most 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 away like the stars before the sun.
Began under Valerian, in the month of April, 257, and continued for three
years and six months. The martyrs that fell in this persecution were
innumerable, and their tortures and deaths as various and painful. The most
eminent martyrs were the following, though neither rank, sex, or age were
regarded.
appeared, to save their fortunes, they renounced their faith. They took great
pains to persuade the ladies to do the same, but, disappointed in their
purpose, the lovers were base enough to inform against the ladies, who,
being apprehended as christians, were brought before Junius Donatus,
governor of Rome, where, A. D. 257, they sealed their martyrdom with
their blood.
Stephen, bishop of Rome, was beheaded in the same year, and about that
time Saturnius, the pious orthodox bishop of Thoulouse, refusing to
sacrifice to idols, was treated with all the barbarous indignities imaginable,
and fastened by the feet to the tail of a bull. Upon a signal given, the
enraged animal was driven down the steps of the temple, by which the
worthy martyr's brains were dashed out.
Laurentius, generally called St. Laurence, the principal of the deacons, who
taught and preached under Sextus, followed him to the place of execution;
when Sextus predicted, that he should, three days after, meet him in
heaven.
About the year 246, Coecilius, a christian minister of Carthage became the
happy instrument of Cyprian's conversion: on which account, and for the
great love that he always afterward bore for the author of his conversion, he
was termed Coecilius Cyprian. Previous to his baptism, he studied the
scriptures with care, and being struck with the beauties of the truths they
contained, he determined to practise the virtues therein recommended.
Subsequent to his baptism, he sold his estate, distributed the money among
the poor, dressed himself in plain attire, and commenced a life of austerity.
He was soon after made a presbyter; and, being greatly admired for his
CHAPTER II. 59
Cyprian's care not only extended over Carthage, but to Numidia and
Mauritania. In all his transactions he took great care to ask the advice of his
clergy, knowing, that unanimity alone could be of service to the church,
this being one of his maxims, "That the bishop was in the church, and the
church in the bishop; so that unity can only be preserved by a close
connexion between the pastor and his flock."
At Utica, a most terrible tragedy was exhibited: 300 christians were, by the
orders of the proconsul, placed round a burning limekiln. A pan of coals
and incense being prepared, they were commanded either to sacrifice to
Jupiter, or to be thrown into the kiln. Unanimously refusing, they bravely
jumped into the pit, and were immediately suffocated.
CHAPTER II. 60
Maxima, Donatilla, 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 length beheaded.
It is here proper to take notice of the singular but miserable fate of the
emperor Valerian, who had so long and so terribly persecuted the
christians.
After having kept him for the space of seven years in this abject state of
slavery, he caused his eyes to be put out, though he was then 83 years of
age. This not satiating his desire of revenge, he soon after ordered his body
to be flayed alive, and rubbed with salt, under which torments he expired;
and thus fell one of the most tyrannical emperors of Rome, and one of the
greatest persecutors of the christians.
A. D. 260, Gallienus, the son of Valerian, succeeded him, and during his
reign (a few martyrs excepted) the church enjoyed peace for some years.
The principal sufferers were, Felix, bishop of Rome. This prelate was
advanced to the Roman see in 274. He was the first martyr to Aurelian's
CHAPTER II. 61
Agapetus, a young gentleman, who sold his estate, and gave the money to
the poor, was seized as a christian, tortured, and then beheaded at Præneste,
a city within a day's journey of Rome.
These are the only martyrs left upon record during this reign, as it was soon
put a stop to by the emperor's being murdered by his own domestics, at
Byzantium.
Zoe, the wife of the jailer, who had the care of the before-mentioned
martyrs, was also converted by them, and hung upon a tree, with a fire of
straw lighted under her. When her body was taken down, it was thrown into
a river, with a large stone tied to it, in order to sink it.
CHAPTER II. 62
Maximian, about this time, ordered a general sacrifice, at which the whole
army was to assist; and likewise he commanded, that they should take the
oath of allegiance and swear, at the same time, to assist in the extirpation of
christianity in Gaul.
This second severity made no more impression than the first had done; the
soldiers preserved their fortitude and their principles, but by the advice of
their officers they drew up a loyal remonstrance to the emperor. This, it
might have been presumed, would have softened the emperor, but it had a
contrary effect: for, enraged at their perseverance and unanimity, he
commanded, that the whole legion should be put to death, which was
accordingly executed by the other troops, who cut them to pieces with their
swords, 22d Sept. 286.
Alban, from whom St. Alban's, in Hertfordshire, received its name, was the
first British martyr. Great Britain had received the gospel of Christ from
Lucius, the first christian king, but did not suffer from the rage of
persecution for many years after. He was originally a pagan, but converted
by a christian ecclesiastic, named Amphibalus, whom he sheltered on
account of his religion. The enemies of Amphibalus, having intelligence of
CHAPTER II. 63
the place where he was secreted, came to the house of Alban; in order to
facilitate his escape, when the soldiers came, he offered himself up as the
person they were seeking for. The deceit being detected, the governor
ordered him to be scourged, and then he was sentenced to be beheaded,
June 22, A. D. 287.
The venerable Bede assures us, that, upon this occasion, the executioner
suddenly became a convert to christianity, and entreated permission to die
for Alban, or with him. Obtaining the latter request, they were beheaded by
a soldier, who voluntarily undertook the task of executioner. This happened
on the 22d of June, A. D. 287, at Verulam, now St. Albans, in
Hertfordshire, where a magnificent church was erected to his memory
about the time of Constantine the Great. This edifice, being destroyed in the
Saxon wars, was rebuilt by Offa, king of Mercia, and a monastery erected
adjoining to it, some remains of which are still visible, and the church is a
noble Gothic structure.
Being seized upon as a christian, he was stretched with pullies till his joints
were dislocated: his body was then torn with wire scourges, and boiling oil
and pitch poured on his naked flesh; lighted torches were applied to his
sides and armpits; and after he had been thus tortured, he was remanded
back to prison, and died of the barbarities he had suffered, October 31, A.
D. 287. His body was sunk in the Somme.
Under the Roman Emperors, commonly called the Era of the Martyrs, was
occasioned partly by the increasing numbers and luxury of the christians,
and the hatred of Galerius, the adopted son of Diocletian, who, being
stimulated by his mother, a bigoted pagan, never ceased persuading the
emperor to enter upon the persecution, till he had accomplished his
purpose.
The fatal day fixed upon to commence the bloody work, was the 23d of
February, A. D. 303, that being the day in which the Terminalia were
celebrated, and on which, as the cruel pagans boasted, they hoped to put a
termination to christianity. On the appointed day, the persecution began in
Nicomedia, on the morning of which the prefect of that city repaired, with a
great number of officers and assistants, to the church of the christians,
where, having forced open the doors, they seized upon all the sacred books,
and committed them to the flames.
A provocation like this was sufficient to call down pagan vengeance upon
his head; he was accordingly seized, severely tortured, and then burned
alive.
All the christians were apprehended and imprisoned; and Galerius privately
ordered the imperial palace to be set on fire, that the christians might be
charged as the incendiaries, and a plausible pretence given for carrying on
the persecution with the greatest severities. A general sacrifice was
commenced, which occasioned various martyrdoms. No distinction was
made of age or sex; the name of Christian was so obnoxious to the pagans,
CHAPTER II. 65
that all indiscriminately fell sacrifices to their opinions. Many houses were
set on fire, and whole christian families perished in the flames; and others
had stones fastened about their necks, and being tied together were driven
into the sea. The persecution became general in all the Roman provinces,
but more particularly in the east; and as it lasted ten years, it is impossible
to ascertain the numbers martyred, or to enumerate the various modes of
martyrdom.
Racks, scourges, swords, daggers, crosses, poison, and famine, were made
use of in various parts to despatch the christians; and invention was
exhausted to devise tortures against such as had no crime, but thinking
differently from the votaries of superstition.
A city of Phrygia, consisting entirely of christians, was burnt, and all the
inhabitants perished in the flames.
Being by order stretched upon the rack, he turned his eyes towards heaven,
and prayed to God to endue him with patience, after which he underwent
the tortures with most admirable fortitude. After the executioners were tired
with inflicting torments on him, he was conveyed to a dungeon. In his
confinement, he converted his jailers, named Alexander, Felician, and
Longinus. This affair coming to the ears of the emperor, he ordered them
immediately to be put to death, and the jailers were accordingly beheaded.
Victor was then again put to the rack, unmercifully beaten with batons, and
again sent to prison.
Being brought to the amphitheatre, several beasts were let loose upon them;
but none of the animals, though hungry, would touch them. The keeper then
brought out a large bear, that had that very day destroyed three men; but
this voracious creature and a fierce lioness both refused to touch the
prisoners. Finding the design of destroying them by the means of wild
beasts ineffectual, Maximus ordered them to be slain by the sword, on the
11th of October, A. D. 303.
beaten from their sockets, and his hair plucked up by the roots. Soon after
he was ordered to be strangled, Nov. 17, A. D. 303.
Susanna, the niece of Caius, bishop of Rome, was pressed by the emperor
Diocletian to marry a noble pagan, who was nearly related to him. Refusing
the honour intended her, she was beheaded by the emperor's order.
In the year 304, when the persecution reached Spain, Dacian, the governor
of Terragona ordered Valerius the bishop, and Vincent the deacon, to be
seized, loaded with irons, and imprisoned. The prisoners being firm in their
resolution, Valerius was banished, and Vincent was racked, and his limbs
dislocated, his flesh torn with hooks, and was laid on a gridiron, which had
not only a fire placed under it, but spikes at the top, which ran into his
flesh. These torments neither destroying him, nor changing his resolutions,
he was remanded to prison, and confined in a small, loathsome, dark
dungeon, strewed with sharp flints, and pieces of broken glass, where he
died, Jan. 22, 304.--His body was thrown into the river.
Agrape, Chioma, and Irene, three sisters, were seized upon at Thessalonica,
when Diocletian's persecution reached Greece. They were burnt, and
received the crown of martyrdom in the flames, March 25, A. D. 304. The
governor, finding that he could make no impression on Irene, ordered her to
CHAPTER II. 70
Timothy, a deacon of Mauritania, and Maura his wife, had not been united
together by the bands of wedlock above three weeks, when they were
separated from each other by the persecution.--Timothy, being apprehended
as a christian, was carried before Arrianus, the governor of Thebais, who,
knowing that he had the keeping of the Holy Scriptures, commanded him to
deliver them up to be burnt; to which he answered, "Had I children, I would
sooner deliver them up to be sacrificed, than part with the word of God."
The governor being much incensed at this reply, ordered 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." His patience under the operation was so
great, that the governor grew more exasperated; he, therefore, in order, if
possible, to overcome his fortitude, ordered him to be hung up by the feet,
with a weight tied about his neck, and a gag in his mouth. In this state,
Maura, his wife, tenderly urged him for her sake to recant; but, when the
gag was taken out of his mouth, instead of consenting to his wife's
CHAPTER II. 71
entreaties, he greatly blamed her mistaken love, and declared his resolution
of dying for the faith. The consequence was, that Maura resolved to imitate
his courage and fidelity and either to accompany or follow him to glory.
The governor, after trying in vain to alter her resolution, ordered her to be
tortured which was executed with great severity. After this, Timothy and
Maura were crucified near each other, A. D. 304.
Tired with the farce of state and public business, the emperor Diocletian
resigned the imperial diadem, and was succeeded by Constantius and
Galerius; the former a prince of the most mild and humane disposition and
the latter equally remarkable for his cruelty and tyranny. These divided the
empire into two equal governments, Galerius ruling in the east, and
Constantius in the west; and the people in the two governments felt the
effects of the dispositions of the two emperors; for those in the west were
governed in the mildest manner, but such as resided in the east, felt all then
miseries of oppression and lengthened tortures.
Among the many martyred by the order of Galerius, we shall enumerate the
most eminent.
God." On pronouncing the last words he immediately sank, and died, June
4, A. D. 308; his body was afterwards taken up, and buried by some pious
christians.
Peter, the sixteenth bishop of Alexandria, was martyred Nov. 25, A. D. 311,
by order of Maximus Cæsar, who reigned in the east.
Agnes, a virgin of only thirteen years of age, was beheaded for being a
christian; as was Serene, the empress of Diocletian. Valentine, a priest,
suffered the same fate at Rome; and Erasmus, a bishop, was martyred in
Campania.
Soon after this the persecution abated in the middle parts of the empire, as
well as in the west; and Providence at length began to manifest vengeance
on the persecutors. Maximian endeavoured to corrupt his daughter Fausta
to murder Constantine her husband; which she discovered, and Constantine
forced him to choose his own death, when he preferred the ignominious
death of hanging, after being an emperor near twenty years.
We shall conclude our account of the tenth and last general persecution
with the death of St. George, the titular saint and patron of England. St.
George was born in Cappadocia, of christian parents; and giving proofs of
his courage, was promoted in the army of the emperor Diocletian. During
the persecution, St. George threw up his command, went boldly to the
senate house, and avowed his being a christian, taking occasion at the same
time to remonstrate against paganism, and point out the absurdity of
worshipping idols. This freedom so greatly provoked the senate, that St.
George was ordered to be tortured, and by the emperor's orders was
dragged through the streets, and beheaded the next day.
CHAPTER III. 76
CHAPTER III.
The gospel having spread itself into Persia, the pagan priests, who
worshipped the sun, were greatly alarmed, and dreaded the loss of that
influence they had hitherto maintained over the people's minds and
properties. Hence they thought it expedient to complain to the emperor, that
the christians were enemies to the state, and held a treasonable
correspondence with the Romans, the great enemies of Persia.
The author of the Arian heresy was Arius, a native of Lybia, and a priest of
Alexandria, who, in A. D. 318, began to publish his errors. He was
condemned by a council of Lybian and Egyptian bishops, and that sentence
was confirmed by the council of Nice, A. D. 325. After the death of
Constantine the Great, the Arians found means to ingratiate themselves into
the favour of the emperor Constantinus, his son and successor in the east;
and hence a persecution was raised against the orthodox bishops and
clergy. The celebrated Athanasius, and other bishops, were banished, and
their sees filled with Arians.
CHAPTER III. 77
In Egypt and Lybia, thirty bishops were martyred, and many other
christians cruelly tormented; and, A. D. 386, George, the Arian bishop of
Alexandria, under the authority of the emperor, began a persecution in that
city and its environs, and carried it on with the most infernal severity. He
was assisted in his diabolical malice by Catophonius, governor of Egypt;
Sebastian, general of the Egyptian forces; Faustinus the treasurer; and
Herachus, a Roman officer.
The persecution now raged in such a manner, that the clergy were driven
from Alexandria, their churches were shut, and the severities practised by
the Arian heretics were as great as those that had been practised by the
pagan idolaters. If a man, accused of being a christian, made his escape,
then his whole family were massacred, and his effects confiscated.
This emperor was the son of Julius Constantius, and the nephew of
Constantine the Great. He studied the rudiments of grammar under the
inspection of Mardomus, a eunuch, and a heathen of Constantinople. His
father sent him some time after to Nicomedia, to be instructed in the
christian religion, by the bishop of Eusebius, his kinsman, but his principles
were corrupted by the pernicious doctrines of Ecebolius the rhetorician, and
Maximus the magician.
Constantius dying in the year 361, Julian succeeded him, and had no sooner
attained the imperial dignity, than he renounced Christianity and embraced
paganism, which had for some years fallen into great disrepute. Though he
restored the idolatrous worship, he made no public edicts against
christianity. He recalled all banished pagans, allowed the free exercise of
religion to every sect, but deprived all christians of offices at court, in the
magistracy, or in the army. He was chaste, temperate, vigilant, laborious,
and pious; yet he prohibited any christian from keeping a school or public
seminary of learning, and deprived all the christian clergy of the privileges
granted them by Constantine the Great.
CHAPTER III. 78
The persecution raged dreadfully about the latter end of the year 363; but,
as many of the particulars have not been handed down to us, it is necessary
to remark in general, that in Palestine many were burnt alive, others were
dragged by their feet through the streets naked till they expired; some were
scalded to death, many stoned, and great numbers had their brains beaten
out with clubs. In Alexandria, innumerable were the martyrs who suffered
by the sword, burning, crucifixion, and being stoned. In Arethusa, several
were ripped open, and corn being put into their bellies, swine were brought
to feed therein, which, in devouring the grain, likewise devoured the
entrails of the martyrs, and, in Thrace, Emilianus was burnt at a stake; and
Domitius murdered in a cave, whither he had fled for refuge.
The emperor, Julian the apostate, died of a wound which he received in his
Persian expedition, A. D. 363, and even while expiring, uttered the most
horrid blasphemies. He was succeeded by Jovian, who restored peace to the
church.
CHAPTER III. 79
The Vandals passing from Spain to Africa in the fifth century, under their
leader Genseric, committed the most unheard-of cruelties. They persecuted
the christians wherever they came, and even laid waste the country as they
passed, that the christians left behind, who had escaped them, might not be
able to subsist. Sometimes they freighted a vessel with martyrs, let it drift
out to sea, or set fire to it, with the sufferers shackled on the decks.
Having seized and plundered the city of Carthage, they put the bishop, and
the clergy, into a leaky ship, and committed it to the mercy of the waves,
thinking that they must all perish of course; but providentially the vessel
arrived safe at Naples. Innumerable orthodox christians were beaten,
scourged, and banished to Capsur, where it pleased God to make them the
means of converting many of the Moors to christianity; but this coming to
CHAPTER III. 80
the ears of Genseric, he sent orders that they and their new converts should
be tied by the feet to chariots, and dragged about until they were dashed to
pieces Pampinian, the bishop of Mansuetes, was tortured to death with
plates of hot iron; the bishop of Urice was burnt, and the bishop of Habensa
was banished, for refusing to deliver up the sacred books which were in his
possession.
The Vandalian tyrant Genseric, having made an expedition into Italy, and
plundered the city of Rome, returned to Africa, flushed with the success of
his arms. The Arians took this occasion to persuade him to persecute the
orthodox christians, as they assured him that they were friends to the people
of Rome.
After the decease of Huneric, his successor recalled him, and the rest of the
orthodox clergy; the Arians, taking the alarm, persuaded him to banish
them again, which he complied with, when Eugenius, exiled to Languedoc
in France, died there of the hardships he underwent on the 6th of
September, A. D. 305.
Persecutions from about the Middle of the Fifth, to the Conclusion of the
Seventh Century.
Proterius was made a priest by Cyril, bishop of Alexandria, who was well
acquainted with his virtues, before he appointed him to preach. On the
death of Cyril, the see of Alexandria was filled by Discorus, an inveterate
enemy to the memory and family of his predecessor. Being condemned by
the council of Chalcedon for having embraced the errors of Eutyches, he
was deposed, and Proterius chosen to fill the vacant see, who was approved
of by the emperor. This occasioned a dangerous insurrection, for the city of
Alexandria was divided into two factions; the one to espouse the cause of
the old, and the other of the new prelate. In one of the commotions, the
Eutychians determined to wreak their vengeance on Proterius, who fled to
the church for sanctuary: but on Good Friday, A. D. 457, a large body of
them rushed into the church, and barbarously murdered the prelate; after
which they dragged the body through the streets, insulted it, cut it to pieces,
burnt it, and scattered the ashes in the air.
CHAPTER III. 81
Killien was born in Ireland, and received from his parents a pious and
christian education. He obtained the Roman pontiff's license to preach to
the pagans in Franconia, in Germany. At Wurtzburg he converted Gozbert,
CHAPTER III. 82
the governor, whose example was followed by the greater part of the people
in two years after. Persuading Gozbert that his marriage with his brother's
widow was sinful, the latter had him beheaded, A. D. 689.
Persecutions from the early part of the Eighth, to near the Conclusion of
the Tenth Century.
After due study, the abbot seeing him qualified for the priesthood, obliged
him to receive that holy order when he was about thirty years old. From
which time he began to preach and labour for the salvation of his
fellow-creatures; he was released to attend a synod of bishops in the
kingdom of West-Saxons. He afterwards, in 719, went to Rome, where
Gregory II. who then sat in Peter's chair, received him with great
friendship, and finding him full of all the virtues that compose the character
of an apostolic missionary, dismissed him with commission at large to
preach the gospel to the pagans wherever he found them. Passing through
Lombardy and Bavaria, he came to Thuringia, which country had before
received the light of the gospel, he next visited Utrecht, and then proceeded
to Saxony, where he converted some thousands to christianity.
During the ministry of this meek prelate, Pepin was declared king of
France. It was that prince's ambition to be crowned by the most holy prelate
he could find, and Boniface was pitched on to perform that ceremony,
which he did at Soissons, in 752. The next year, his great age and many
CHAPTER III. 83
infirmities lay so heavy on him, that, with the consent of the new king, the
bishops, &c. of his diocese, he consecrated Lullus, his countryman, and
faithful disciple, and placed him in the see of Mentz. When he had thus
eased himself of his charge, he recommended the church of Mentz to the
care of the new bishop in very strong terms, desired he would finish the
church at Fuld, and see him buried in it, for his end was near. Having left
these orders, he took boat to the Rhine, and went to Friesland, where he
converted and baptized several thousands of barbarous natives, demolished
the temples, and raised churches on the ruins of those superstitious
structures. A day being appointed for confirming a great number of new
converts, he ordered them to assemble in a new open plain, near the river
Bourde. Thither he repaired the day before; and, pitching a tent, determined
to remain on the spot all night, in order to be ready early in the morning.
Some pagans, who were his inveterate enemies, having intelligence of this,
poured down upon him and the companions of his mission in the night, and
killed him and fifty-two of his companions and attendants on June 5, A. D.
755. Thus fell the great father of the Germanic church, the honour of
England, and the glory of the age in which he lived.
In the reign of Theophilus, the Saracens ravaged many parts of the eastern
empire, gained several considerable advantages over the christians, took the
city of Armorian, and numbers suffered martyrdom.
Flora and Mary, two ladies of distinction, suffered martyrdom at the same
time.
After Alphage had governed the see of Canterbury about four years, with
great reputation to himself, and benefit to his people, the Danes made an
incursion into England, and laid siege to Canterbury. When the design of
attacking this city was known, many of the principal people made a flight
from it, and would have persuaded Alphage to follow their example. But
he, like a good pastor, would not listen to such a proposal. While he was
employed in assisting and encouraging the people, Canterbury was taken by
storm; the enemy poured into the town, and destroyed all that came in their
way by fire and sword. He had the courage to address the enemy, and offer
CHAPTER III. 85
himself to their swords, as more worthy of their rage than the people: he
begged they might be saved, and that they would discharge their whole fury
upon him. They accordingly seized him, tied his hands, insulted and abused
him in a rude and barbarous manner, and obliged him to remain on the spot
until his church was burnt, and the monks massacred. They then decimated
all the inhabitants, both ecclesiastics and laymen, leaving only every tenth
person alive; so that they put 7236 persons to death, and left only four
monks and 800 laymen alive, after which they confined the archbishop in a
dungeon, where they kept him close prisoner for several months.
During his confinement they proposed to him to redeem his liberty with the
sum of £3000, and to persuade the king to purchase their departure out of
the kingdom, with a further sum of £10,000. As Alphage's circumstances
would not allow him to satisfy the exorbitant demand, they bound him, and
put him to severe torments, to oblige him to discover the treasure of the
church; upon which they assured him of his life and liberty, but the prelate
piously persisted in refusing to give the pagans any account of it. They
remanded him to prison again, confined him six days longer, and then,
taking him prisoner with them to Greenwich, brought him to trial there. He
still remained inflexible with respect to the church treasure; but exhorted
them to forsake their idolatry, and embrace christianity. This so greatly
incensed the Danes, that the soldiers dragged him out of the camp, and beat
him unmercifully. One of the soldiers, who had been converted by him,
knowing that his pains would be lingering, as his death was determined on,
actuated by a kind of barbarous compassion, cut off his head, and thus put
the finishing stroke to his martyrdom, April 19, A. D. 1012. This
transaction happened on the very spot where the church at Greenwich,
which is dedicated to him, now stands. After his death his body was thrown
into the Thames, but being found the next day, it was buried in the
cathedral of St. Paul's by the bishops of London and Lincoln; from whence
it was, in 1023, removed to Canterbury by Ethelmoth, the archbishop of
that province.
Gerard, a Venitian, devoted himself to the service of God from his tender
years: entered into a religious house for some time, and then determined to
visit the Holy Land. Going into Hungary, he became acquainted with
CHAPTER III. 86
Stephen, the king of that country, who made him bishop of Chonad.
Bolislaus, the second king of Poland, had, by nature, many good qualities,
but giving away to his passions he ran into many enormities, and at length
had the appellation of Cruel bestowed upon him. Stanislaus alone had the
courage to tell him of his faults, when, taking a private opportunity, he
freely displayed to him the enormities of his crimes. The king, greatly
exasperated at his repeated freedoms, at length determined, at any rate, to
get the better of a prelate who was so extremely faithful. Hearing one day
that the bishop was by himself, in the chapel of St. Michael, at a small
distance from the town, he despatched some soldiers to murder him. The
soldiers readily undertook the bloody task; but, when they came into the
CHAPTER III. 87
presence of Stanislaus, the venerable aspect of the prelate struck them with
such awe, that they could not perform what they had promised. On their
return, the king, finding that they had not obeyed his orders, stormed at
them violently, snatched a dagger from one of them, and ran furiously to
the chapel, where, finding Stanislaus at the altar, he plunged the weapon
into his heart. The prelate immediately expired on the 8th of May, A. D.
1079.
CHAPTER IV. 88
CHAPTER IV.
PAPAL PERSECUTIONS.
Thus far our history of persecution has been confined principally to the
pagan world. We come now to a period, when persecution under the guise
of christianity, committed more enormities than ever disgraced the annals
of paganism. Disregarding the maxims and the spirit of the gospel, the
papal church, arming herself with the power of the sword, vexed the church
of God and wasted it for several centuries, a period most appropriately
termed in history, the "dark ages." The kings of the earth, gave their power
to the "beast," and submitted to be trodden on by the miserable vermin that
often filled the papal chair, as in the case of Henry, emperor of Germany.
The storm of papal persecution first burst upon the Waldenses in France.
Popery having brought various innovations into the church, and overspread
the christian world with darkness and superstition, some few, who plainly
perceived the pernicious tendency of such errors, determined to show the
light of the gospel in its real purity, and to disperse those clouds which
artful priests had raised about it, in order to blind the people, and obscure
its real brightness.
The principal among these was Berengarius, who, about the year 1000,
boldly preached gospel truths, according to their primitive purity. Many,
from conviction, assented to his doctrine, and were, on that account, called
Berengarians. To Berengarius succeeded Peter Bruis, who preached at
Thoulouse, under the protection of an earl, named Hildephonsus; and the
whole tenets of the reformers, with the reasons of their separation from the
church of Rome, were published in a book written by Bruis, under the title
of ANTI-CHRIST.
By the year of Christ 1140, the number of the reformed was very great, and
the probability of its increasing alarmed the pope, who wrote to several
princes to banish them from their dominions, and employed many learned
CHAPTER IV. 89
The proceedings of Waldo and the reformed, occasioned the first rise of the
inquisitors; for pope Innocent III. authorized certain monks as inquisitors,
to inquire for, and deliver over, the reformed to the secular power. The
process was short, as an accusation was deemed adequate to guilt, and a
candid trial was never granted to the accused.
The pope, finding that these cruel means had not the intended effect, sent
several learned monks to preach among the Waldenses, and to endeavour to
argue them out of their opinions. Among these monks was one Dominic,
who appeared extremely zealous in the cause of popery. This Dominic
instituted an order, which, from him, was called the order of Dominican
friars; and the members of this order have ever since been the principal
inquisitors in the various inquisitions in the world. The power of the
inquisitors was unlimited; they proceeded against whom they pleased,
without any consideration of age, sex, or rank. Let the accusers be ever so
infamous, the accusation was deemed valid; and even anonymous
informations, sent by letter, were thought sufficient evidence. To be rich
was a crime equal to heresy; therefore many who had money were accused
of heresy, or of being favourers of heretics, that they might be obliged to
pay for their opinions. The dearest friends or nearest kindred could not,
without danger, serve any one who was imprisoned on account of religion.
CHAPTER IV. 90
To convey to those who were confined, a little straw, or give them a cup of
water, was called favouring of the heretics, and they were prosecuted
accordingly. No lawyer dared to plead for his own brother, and their malice
even extended beyond the grave; hence the bones of many were dug up and
burnt, as examples to the living. If a man on his death-bed was accused of
being a follower of Waldo, his estates were confiscated, and the heir to
them defrauded of his inheritance; and some were sent to the Holy Land,
while the Dominicans took possession of their houses and properties, and,
when the owners returned, would often pretend not to know them. These
persecutions were continued for several centuries under different popes and
other great dignitaries of the catholic church.
The Albigenses were a people of the reformed religion, who inhabited the
country of Albi. They were condemned on the score of religion, in the
council of Lateran, by order of Pope Alexander III. Nevertheless, they
increased so prodigiously, that many cities were inhabited by persons only
of their persuasion, and several eminent noblemen embraced their
doctrines. Among the latter were Raymond earl of Thoulouse, Raymond
earl of Foix, the earl of Beziers, &c.
A friar, named Peter, having been murdered in the dominions of the earl of
Thoulouse, the pope made the murder a pretence to persecute that
nobleman and his subjects. To effect this, he sent persons throughout all
Europe, in order to raise forces to act coercively against the Albigenses, and
promised paradise to all that would come to this war, which he termed a
Holy War, and bear arms for forty days. The same indulgences were
likewise held out to all who entered themselves for the purpose as to such
as engaged in crusades to the Holy Land. The brave earl defended
Thoulouse and other places with the most heroic bravery and various
success against the pope's legates and Simon earl of Montfort, a bigoted
catholic nobleman. Unable to subdue the earl of Thoulouse openly, the king
of France, and queen mother, and three archbishops, raised another
formidable army, and had the art to persuade the earl of Thoulouse to come
to a conference, when he was treacherously seized upon, made a prisoner,
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The reformation of papistical error very early was projected in France; for
in the third century a learned man, named Almericus, and six of his
disciples, were ordered to be burnt at Paris, for asserting that God was no
otherwise present in the sacramental bread than in any other bread; that it
was idolatry to build altars or shrines to saints and that it was ridiculous to
offer incense to them.
The martyrdom of Almericus and his pupils did not, however, prevent
many from acknowledging the justness of his notions, and seeing the purity
of the reformed religion, so that the truth of Christ continually increased,
and in time not only spread itself over many parts of France, but diffused
the light of the gospel over various other countries.
In the year 1524, at a town in France, called Melden, one John Clark set up
a bill on the church door, wherein he called the pope Anti-christ. For this
offence he was repeatedly whipped, and then branded on the forehead.
Going afterward to Mentz, in Lorraine, he demolished some images, for
which he had his right hand and nose cut off, and his arms and breasts torn
with pincers. He sustained these cruelties with amazing fortitude, and was
even sufficiently cool to sing the 115th psalm, which expressly forbids
idolatry; after which he was thrown into the fire, and burnt to ashes.
Many persons of the reformed persuasion were, about this time, beaten,
racked, scourged, and burnt to death, in several parts of France but more
CHAPTER IV. 92
A native of Malda was burnt by a slow fire, for saying that mass was a
plain denial of the death and passion of Christ. At Limosin, John de
Cadurco, a clergyman of the reformed religion, was apprehended,
degraded, and ordered to be burnt.
In the year 1554, two men of the reformed religion, with the son and
daughter of one of them, were apprehended and committed to the castle of
Niverne. On examination, they confessed their faith, and were ordered for
execution; being smeared with grease, brimstone, and gunpowder, they
cried, "Salt on, salt on this sinful and rotten flesh!" Their tongues were then
cut out, and they were afterward committed to the flames, which soon
consumed them, by means of the combustible matter with which they were
besmeared.
At Orleans, a thousand were slain of men, women, and children, and 6000
at Rouen.
At Meldith, two hundred were put into prison, and brought out by units,
and cruelly murdered.
CHAPTER IV. 94
At Lyons, eight hundred were massacred. Here children hanging about their
parents, and parents affectionately embracing their children, were pleasant
food for the swords and blood-thirsty minds of those who call themselves
the catholic church. Here 300 were slain only in the bishop's house; and the
impious monks would suffer none to be buried.
"The nuptials (says he) of the young king of Navarre with the French king's
sister, was solemnized with pomp; and all the endearments, all the
assurances of friendship, all the oaths sacred among men, were profusely
lavished by Catharine, the queen-mother, and by the king; during which,
the rest of the court thought of nothing but festivities, plays, and
masquerades. At last, at twelve o'clock at night, on the eve of St.
Bartholomew, the signal was given. Immediately all the houses of the
protestants were forced open at once. Admiral Coligni, alarmed by the
uproar jumped out of bed; when a company of assassins rushed in his
chamber. They were headed by one Besme, who had been bred up as a
domestic in the family of the Guises. This wretch thrust his sword into the
admiral's breast, and also cut him in the face. Besme was a German, and
being afterwards taken by the protestants, the Rochellers would have
bought him, in order to hang and quarter him; but he was killed by one
Bretanville. Henry, the young duke of Guise, who afterwards framed the
catholic league, and was murdered at Blois, standing at the door till the
horrid butchery should be completed, called aloud, 'Besme! is it done?'
Immediately after which, the ruffians threw the body out of the window,
and Coligni expired at Guise's feet.
CHAPTER IV. 95
"Count de Teligny also fell a sacrifice. He had married, about ten months
before, Coligni's daughter. His countenance was so engaging, that the
ruffians, when they advanced in order to kill him, were struck with
compassion; but others, more barbarous, rushing forward, murdered him.
"In the meantime, all the friends of Coligni were assassinated throughout
Paris; men, women, and children, were promiscuously slaughtered; every
street was strewed with expiring bodies. Some priests, holding up a crucifix
in one hand, and a dagger in the other, ran to the chiefs of the murderers,
and strongly exhorted them to spare neither relations nor friends.
"The king's palace was one of the chief scenes of the butchery: the king of
Navarre had his lodgings in the Louvre, and all his domestics were
protestants. Many of these were killed in bed with their wives; others,
running away naked, were pursued by the soldiers through the several
rooms of the palace, even to the king's antichamber. The young wife of
Henry of Navarre, awaked by the dreadful uproar, being afraid for her
consort, and for her own life, seized with horror, and half dead, flew from
her bed, in order to throw herself at the feet of the king her brother. But
scarce had she opened her chamber-door, when some of her protestant
domestics rushed in for refuge. The soldiers immediately followed, pursued
them in sight of the princess, and killed one who had crept under her bed.
Two others, being wounded with halberds, fell at the queen's feet, so that
she was covered with blood.
CHAPTER IV. 96
"Many of the wretched victims fled to the water-side, and some swam over
the Seine to the suburbs of St. Germaine. The king saw them from his
window, which looked upon the river, and fired upon them with a carbine
that had been loaded for that purpose by one of his pages; while the
queen-mother, undisturbed and serene in the midst of slaughter, looking
down from a balcony, encouraged the murderers and laughed at the dying
groans of the slaughtered. This barbarous queen was fired with a restless
ambition, and she perpetually shifted her party in order to satiate it.
"Some days after this horrid transaction, the French court endeavoured to
palliate it by forms of law. They pretended to justify the massacre by a
calumny, and accused the admiral of a conspiracy, which no one believed.
The parliament was commanded to proceed against the memory of Coligni;
and his dead body was hung in chains on Montfaucon gallows. The king
himself went to view this shocking spectacle; when one of his courtiers
advising him to retire, and complaining of the stench of the corpse, he
CHAPTER IV. 97
"The young king of Navarre was spared through policy, rather than from
the pity of the queen-mother, she keeping him prisoner till the king's death,
in order that he might be as a security and pledge for the submission of
such protestants as might effect their escape.
"This horrid butchery was not confined merely to the city of Paris. The like
orders were issued from court to the governors of all the provinces in
France; so that, in a week's time, about one hundred thousand protestants
were cut to pieces in different parts of the kingdom! Two or three
governors only refused to obey the king's orders. One of these, named
Montmorrin, governor of Auvergne, wrote the king the following letter,
which deserves to be transmitted to the latest posterity.
"SIRE--I have received an order, under your majesty's seal, to put to death
all the protestants in my province. I have too much respect for your
majesty, not to believe the letter a forgery; but if (which God forbid) the
order should be genuine, I have too much respect for your majesty to obey
it."
At Rome the horrid joy was so great, that they appointed a day of high
festival, and a jubilee, with great indulgence to all who kept it and showed
every expression of gladness they could devise! and the man who first
carried the news received 1000 crowns of the cardinal of Lorrain for his
ungodly message. The king also commanded the day to be kept with every
demonstration of joy, concluding now that the whole race of Huguenots
was extinct.
Many who gave great sums of money for their ransom were immediately
after slain; and several towns, which were under the king's promise of
protection and safety, were cut off as soon as they delivered themselves up,
on those promises, to his generals or captains.
CHAPTER IV. 98
The duke of Guise, entering into Bloise, suffered his soldiers to fly upon
the spoil, and slay or drown all the protestants they could find. In this they
spared neither age nor sex; defiling the women, and then murdering them;
from whence he went to Mere, and committed the same outrages for many
days together. Here they found a minister named Cassebonius, and threw
him into the river.
At Anjou, they slew Albiacus, a minister; and many women were defiled
and murdered there; among whom were two sisters, abused before their
father, whom the assassins bound to a wall to see them, and then slew them
and him.
The president of Turin, after giving a large sum for his life, was cruelly
beaten with clubs, stripped of his clothes, and hung feet upwards, with his
head and breast in the river: before he was dead, they opened his belly,
plucked out his entrails, and threw them into the river; and then carried his
heart about the city upon a spear.
At Barre great cruelty was used, even to young children, whom they cut
open, pulled out their entrails, which through very rage they knawed with
their teeth. Those who had fled to the castle, when they yielded, were
almost all hanged. Thus they did at the city of Matiscon; counting it sport to
cut off their arms and legs and afterward kill them; and for the
entertainment of their visiters, they often threw the protestants from a high
bridge into the river, saying, "Did you ever see men leap so well?"
At Penna, after promising them safety, 300 were inhumanly butchered; and
five and forty at Albin, on the Lord's day. At Nonne, though it yielded on
conditions of safeguard, the most horrid spectacles were exhibited. Persons
CHAPTER IV. 99
The tragical sufferings of the protestants are too numerous to detail; but the
treatment of Philip de Deux will give an idea of the rest. After the
CHAPTER IV. 100
miscreants had slain this martyr in his bed, they went to his wife, who was
then attended by the midwife, expecting every moment to be delivered. The
midwife entreated them to stay the murder, at least till the child, which was
the twentieth, should be born. Notwithstanding this, they thrust a dagger up
to the hilt into the poor woman. Anxious to be delivered, she ran into a corn
loft; but hither they pursued her, stabbed her in the belly, and then threw
her into the street. By the fall, the child came from the dying mother, and
being caught up by one of the catholic ruffians, he stabbed the infant, and
then threw it into the river.
On the accession of Louis XIV. the kingdom was almost ruined by civil
wars. At this critical juncture, the protestants, heedless of our Lord's
admonition, "They that take the sword, shall perish with the sword," took
such an active part in favour of the king, that he was constrained to
acknowledge himself indebted to their arms for his establishment on the
throne. Instead of cherishing and rewarding that party who had fought for
him, he reasoned, that the same power which had protected could overturn
him, and, listening to the popish machinations, he began to issue out
proscriptions and restrictions, indicative of his final determination.
Rochelle was presently fettered with an incredible number of
denunciations. Montaban and Millau were sacked by soldiers. Popish
commissioners were appointed to preside over the affairs of the protestants,
and there was no appeal from their ordinance, except to the king's council.
This struck at the root of their civil and religious exercises, and prevented
them, being protestants, from suing a catholic in any court of law. This was
followed by another injunction, to make an inquiry in all parishes into
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whatever the protestants had said or done for twenty years past. This filled
the prisons with innocent victims, and condemned others to the galleys or
banishment. Protestants were expelled from all offices, trades, privileges
and employs; thereby depriving them of the means of getting their bread:
and they proceeded to such excess in their brutality, that they would not
suffer even the midwives to officiate, but compelled their women to submit
themselves in that crisis of nature to their enemies, the brutal catholics.
Their children were taken from them to be educated by the catholics, and at
seven years made to embrace popery. The reformed were prohibited from
relieving their own sick or poor, from all private worship, and divine
service was to be performed in the presence of a popish priest. To prevent
the unfortunate victims from leaving the kingdom, all the passages on the
frontiers were strictly guarded; yet, by the good hand of God, about
150,000 escaped their vigilance, and emigrated to different countries to
relate the dismal narrative.
All that has been related hitherto were only infringements on their
established charter, the edict of Nantes. At length the diabolical revocation
of that edict passed on the 18th of October, 1685, and was registered the
22d in the vacation, contrary to all form of law. Instantly the dragoons were
quartered upon the protestants throughout the realm, and filled all France
with the like news, that the king would no longer suffer any Huguenots in
his kingdom, and therefore they must resolve to change their religion.
Hereupon the intendants in every parish (which were popish governors and
spies set over the protestants) assembled the reformed inhabitants, and told
them, they must without delay turn catholics, either freely or by force. The
protestants replied, "They were ready to sacrifice their lives and estates to
the king, but their consciences being God's, they could not so dispose of
them."
Instantly the troops seized the gates and avenues of the cities, and placing
guards in all the passages, entered with sword in hand, crying, "Die, or be
catholics!" In short, they practised every wickedness and horror they could
devise, to force them to change their religion.
CHAPTER IV. 102
They hung both men and women by their hair or their feet, and smoked
them with hay till they were nearly dead; and if they still refused to sign a
recantation, they hung them up again and repeated their barbarities, till,
wearied out with torments without death, they forced many to yield to
them.
Others, they plucked off all the hair of their heads and beards with pincers.
Others they threw on great fires, and pulled them out again, repeating it till
they extorted a promise to recant.
Some they stripped naked, and after offering them the most infamous
insults, they stuck them with pins from head to foot, and lanced them with
penknives; and sometimes with red-hot pincers they dragged them by the
nose till they promised to turn. Sometimes they tied fathers and husbands,
while they ravished their wives and daughters before their eyes. Multitudes
they imprisoned in the most noisome dungeons, where they practised all
sorts of torments in secret. Their wives and children they shut up in
monasteries.
In forming the edict to repeal the edict of Nantes, the council were divided;
some would have all the ministers detained and forced into popery as well
as the laity: others were for banishing them, because their presence would
strengthen the protestants in perseverance: and if they were forced to turn,
they would ever be secret and powerful enemies in the bosom of the
church, by their great knowledge and experience in controversial matters.
CHAPTER IV. 103
This reason prevailing, they were sentenced to banishment, and only fifteen
days allowed them to depart the kingdom.
The same day the edict for revoking the protestant's charter was published,
they demolished their churches, and banished their ministers, whom they
allowed but twenty-four hours to leave Paris. The papists would not suffer
them to dispose of their effects, and threw every obstacle in their way to
delay their escape till the limited time was expired which subjected them to
condemnation for life to the galleys. The guards were doubled at the
seaports, and the prisons were filled with the victims, who endured
torments and wants at which human nature must shudder.
The sufferings of the ministers and others, who were sent to the galleys,
seemed to exceed all. Chained to the oar, they were exposed to the open air
night and day, at all seasons, and in all weathers; and when through
weakness of body they fainted under the oar, instead of a cordial to revive
them, or viands to refresh them, they received only the lashes of a scourge,
or the blows of a cane or rope's end. For the want of sufficient clothing and
necessary cleanliness, they were most grievously tormented with vermin,
and cruelly pinched with the cold, which removed by night the executioners
who beat and tormented them by day. Instead of a bed, they were allowed,
sick or well, only a hard board, eighteen inches broad, to sleep on, without
any covering but their wretched apparel; which was a shirt of the coarsest
canvass, a little jerkin of red serge, slit up each side up to the arm-holes,
with open sleeves that reached not to the elbow; and once in three years
they had a coarse frock, and a little cap to cover their heads, which were
always kept close shaved as a mark of their infamy. The allowance of
provision was as narrow as the sentiments of those who condemned them to
such miseries, and their treatment when sick is too shocking to relate,
doomed to die upon the boards of a dark hold; covered with vermin, and
without the least convenience for the calls of nature. Nor was it among the
least of the horrors they endured, that, as ministers of Christ, and honest
men, they were chained side by side to felons and the most execrable
villains, whose blasphemous tongues were never idle. If they refused to
hear mass, they were sentenced to the bastinado, of which dreadful
punishment the following is a description. Preparatory to it, the chains are
CHAPTER IV. 104
taken off, and the victims delivered into the hands of the Turks that preside
at the oars, who strip them quite naked, and stretching them upon a great
gun, they are held so that they cannot stir; during which there reigns an
awful silence throughout the galley. The Turk who is appointed the
executioner, and who thinks the sacrifice acceptable to his prophet
Mahomet, most cruelly beats the wretched victim with a rough cudgel, or
knotty rope's end, till the skin is flayed off his bones, and he is near the
point of expiring; then they apply a most tormenting mixture of vinegar and
salt, and consign him to that most intolerable hospital where thousands
under their cruelties have expired.
John Calas was a merchant of the city of Thoulouse, where he had been
settled, and lived in good repute, and had married an English woman of
French extraction. Calas and his wife were 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 family about thirty years. The father, however, did not
express any resentment or ill-will upon the occasion, but kept the maid in
the family and settled an annuity upon the son. In October, 1761, the family
consisted of John Calas and his wife, one woman servant, Mark Antony
Calas, the eldest son, and Peter Calas, the second son. Mark Antony was
bred to the law, but could not be admitted to practise, on account of his
being a protestant; hence he grew melancholy, read all the books he could
procure relative to suicide, and seemed determined to destroy himself. To
this may be added, that he led a dissipated life, was greatly addicted to
gaming, and did all which could constitute the character of a libertine; on
which account his father frequently reprehended him and sometimes in
terms of severity, which considerably added to the doom that seemed to
CHAPTER IV. 105
oppress him.
It was now about seven o'clock; the super was not long; but before it was
over, Antony left the table, and went into the kitchen, which was on the
same floor, as he was accustomed to do. The maid asked him if he was
cold? He answered, "Quite the contrary, I burn;" and then left her. In the
mean time his friend and family left the room they had supped in, and went
into a bed-chamber; the father and La Vaisse sat down together on a sofa;
the younger son Peter in an elbow chair; and the mother in another chair;
and, without making any inquiry after Antony, continued in conversation
together till between nine and ten o'clock, when La Vaisse took his leave,
and Peter, who had fallen asleep, was awakened to attend him with a light.
On the ground floor of Calas's house was a shop and a ware-house, the
latter of which was divided from the shop by a pair of folding-doors. When
Peter Calas and La Vaisse came down stairs into the shop, they were
extremely shocked to see Antony 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 discovery of this horrid spectacle, they shrieked out,
which brought down Calas the father, the mother being seized with such
terror as kept her trembling in the passage above. When the maid
discovered what had happened, she continued below, either because she
feared to carry an account of it to her mistress, or because she busied
herself in doing some good office to her master, who was embracing the
body of his son, and bathing it in his tears. The mother, therefore, being
thus left alone, went down and mixed in the scene that has been already
CHAPTER IV. 106
The poor father, 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 catholic multitude, who supposed he had murdered his
son. This was accordingly done, and David, the chief magistrate, or
capitoul, took the father, Peter the son, the mother, La Vaisse, and the maid,
all into custody, and set a guard over them. He sent for M. de la Tour, a
physician, and MM. la Marque and Perronet, surgeons, who examined the
body for marks of violence, but found none except the mark of the ligature
on the neck; they found also the hair of the deceased done up in the usual
manner, perfectly smooth, and without the least disorder; his clothes were
also regularly folded up, and laid upon the counter, nor was his shirt either
torn or unbuttoned.
protestants thus hang their children, they compel them to kneel, and one of
the interrogatories was whether any person had seen Antony Calas kneel
before his father when he strangled him; it recites likewise, that Antony
died a Roman catholic, and requires evidence of his catholicism.
But before this monitory was published, the mob had got a notion that
Antony Calas was the next day to have entered into the fraternity of the
White Penitents. The capitoul therefore caused his body to be buried in the
middle of St. Stephen's church. A few days after the interment of the
deceased, the White Penitents performed a solemn service for him in their
chapel; the church was hung with white, and a tomb was raised in the
middle of it, on the top of which was placed a human skeleton, holding in
one hand a paper, on which was written, "Abjuration of heresy," and in the
other a palm, the emblem of martyrdom. The next day the Franciscans
performed a service of the same kind for him.
Poor Calas, however, an old man of 68, was condemned to this dreadful
punishment alone. He suffered the torture with great constancy, and was led
to execution in a frame of mind which excited the admiration of all that saw
CHAPTER IV. 108
him, and particularly of the two Dominicans (father Bourges and father
Coldagues) who attended him in his last moments, and declared that they
thought him not only innocent of the crime laid to his charge, but an
exemplary instance of true christian patience, fortitude, and charity. When
he saw the executioner prepared to give him the last stroke, he made a fresh
declaration to father Bourges, but while the words were still 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 fagots which are to
reduce your body to ashes! speak the truth." M. Calas made no reply, but
turned his head a little aside, and that moment the executioner did his
office.
The popular outcry against this family was so violent in Languedoc, that
every body expected to see the children of Calas broke upon the wheel, and
the mother burnt alive.
Young Donat Calas was advised to fly into Switzerland: he went, and found
a gentleman who, at first, could only pity and relieve him, without daring to
judge of the rigour exercised against the father, mother, and brothers. Soon
after, one of the brothers, who was only banished, likewise threw himself
into the arms of the same person, who, for more than a month, took every
possible precaution to be assured of the innocence of the family. Once
convinced, he thought himself obliged, in conscience, to employ his
friends, his purse, his pen, and his credit, to repair the fatal mistake of the
seven judges of Thoulouse, and to have the proceedings revised by the
king's council. This revision lasted three years, and it is well known what
honour Messrs. de Grosne and Bacquancourt acquired by investigating this
memorable cause. Fifty masters of the Court of Requests unanimously
declared the whole family of Calas innocent, and recommended them to the
benevolent justice of his majesty. The duke de Choiseul, who never let slip
an opportunity of signalizing the greatness of his character, not only
assisted this unfortunate family with money, but obtained for them a
gratuity of 36,000 livres from the king.
CHAPTER IV. 109
On the ninth of March, 1765, the arret was signed which justified the
family of Calas, and changed their fate. The ninth of March, 1762, was the
very day on which the innocent and virtuous father of that family had been
executed. All Paris ran in crowds to see them come out of prison, and
clapped their hands for joy while the tears streamed from their eyes.
CHAPTER V.
When the reformed religion began to diffuse the gospel light throughout
church. He accordingly instituted a number of inquisitors, or persons who
were to make inquiry after, apprehend, and punish, heretics, as the
reformed were called by the papists.
At the head of these inquisitors was one Dominic, who had been canonized
by the pope, in order to render his authority the more respectable. Dominic,
and the other inquisitors, spread themselves into various Roman catholic
countries, and treated the protestants with the utmost severity. In process of
time, the pope, not finding these roving inquisitors so useful as he had
imagined, resolved upon the establishment of fixed and regular courts of
inquisition. After the order for these regular courts, the first office of
inquisition was established in the city of Thoulouse, and Dominic became
the first regular inquisitor, as he had before been the first roving inquisitor.
Courts of inquisition were now erected in several countries; but the Spanish
inquisition became the most powerful, and the most dreaded of any. Even
the kings of Spain themselves, though arbitrary in all other respects, were
taught to dread the power of the lords of the inquisition; and the horrid
cruelties they exercised compelled multitudes, who differed in opinion
from the Roman catholics, carefully to conceal their sentiments.
The most zealous of all the popish monks, and those who most implicitly
obeyed the church of Rome, were the Dominicans and Franciscans: these,
therefore, the pope thought proper to invest with an exclusive right of
presiding over the different court of inquisition, and gave them the most
unlimited powers, as judges delegated by him, and immediately
representing his person: they were permitted to excommunicate, or
sentence to death whom they thought proper, upon the most slight
information of heresy. They were allowed to publish crusades against all
whom they deemed heretics, and enter into leagues with sovereign princes,
to join their crusades with their forces.
CHAPTER V. 111
In 1244, their power was farther increased by the emperor Frederic the
Second, who declared himself the protector and friend of all the inquisitors,
and published the cruel edicts, viz. 1. That all heretics who continued
obstinate, should be burnt. 2. That all heretics who repented, should be
imprisoned for life.
This zeal in the emperor, for the inquisitors of the Roman catholic
persuasion, arose from a report which had been propagated throughout
Europe, that he intended to renounce christianity, and turn Mahometan; the
emperor therefore, attempted, by the height of bigotry to contradict the
report, and to show his attachment to popery by cruelty.
The principal accusation against those who are subject to this tribunal is
heresy, which comprises all that is spoken, or written, against any of the
articles of the creed, or the traditions of the Roman church. The inquisition
likewise takes cognizance of such as are accused of being magicians, and of
such who read the bible in the common language, the Talmud of the Jews,
or the Alcoran of the Mahometans.
Upon all occasions the inquisitors carry on their processes with the utmost
severity, and punish those who offend them with the most unparalleled
cruelty. A protestant has seldom any mercy shown him, and a Jew, who
turns christian, is far from being secure.
A prisoner in the inquisition is never allowed to see the face of his accuser,
or of the witnesses against him, but every method is taken by threats and
tortures, to oblige him to accuse himself, and by that means corroborate
their evidence. If the jurisdiction of the inquisition is not fully allowed,
vengeance is denounced against such as call it in question for 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, distinguished rank, great dignity, or eminent employments, are no
protection from its severities; and the lowest officers of the inquisition can
make the highest characters tremble.
Among those who were to suffer, was a young Jewess of exquisite beauty,
and but 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
CHAPTER V. 113
pardon, in the following pathetic speech: "Great queen, will not your royal
presence be of some service to the in my miserable condition! Have regard
to my youth; and, oh! consider, that I am about to die for professing a
religion imbibed from my earliest infancy!" Her majesty seemed greatly to
pity her distress, but turned away her eyes, as she did not dare to speak a
word in behalf of a person who had been declared a heretic.
Now mass began, in the midst of which the priest came from the altar,
placed himself near the scaffold, and seated himself in a chair prepared for
that purpose.
The chief inquisitor then descended from the amphitheatre, dressed in his
cope, and having a mitre on his head. After having bowed to the altar, he
advanced towards the king's balcony, and went up to it, attended by some
of his officers, carrying a cross and the gospels, with a book containing the
oath by which the kings of Spain oblige themselves to protect the catholic
faith, to extirpate heretics, and to support with all their power and force the
prosecutions and decrees of the inquisition: a like oath was administered to
the counsellors and whole assembly. 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 criminals, which were already
separately rehearsed aloud one after the other.
After this, followed the burning of the twenty-one men and women, whose
intrepidity in suffering that horrid death was truly astonishing. The king's
near situation to the criminals rendered their dying groans 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.
after a cripple, and suffers the severest pains upon every change of weather.
We shall give an ample description of the severe torments occasioned by
the torture, from the account of one who suffered it the three respective
times, but happily survived the cruelties he underwent.
At the first time of torturing, six executioners entered, stripped him naked
to his drawers, and laid him upon his back on a kind of stand, elevated a
few feet from the floor. The operation commenced by putting an iron collar
round his neck, and a ring to each foot, which fastened him to the stand.
His limbs being thus stretched out, they wound two ropes round each thigh;
which ropes being passed under the scaffold, through holes made for that
purpose, were all drawn tight at the same instant of time, by four of the
men, on a given signal.
The manner of inflicting the second torture 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
exactly parallel to each other. In consequence of this violent contortion,
both his shoulders became dislocated, and a considerable quantity of blood
issued from his mouth. This torture was repeated thrice; after which he was
again taken to the dungeon, and the surgeon set the dislocated bones.
Two months after the second torture, the prisoner being a little recovered,
was again ordered to the torture-room, and there, for the last time, made to
undergo another kind of punishment, which was inflicted twice without any
intermission. The executioners fastened a thick iron chain round his body,
which crossing at the breast, terminated at the wrists. They then placed him
CHAPTER V. 115
with his back against a thick board, at each extremity whereof was a pulley,
through which there ran a rope that caught the end of the chain at his wrists.
The executioner then, 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 chains were drawn tighter. They tortured him
in this manner to such a degree, that his wrists, as well as his shoulders,
were quite dislocated. They were, however, soon set by the surgeons; but
the barbarians, not yet satisfied with this species of cruelty, made him
immediately undergo the like torture a second time, which he sustained
(though, if possible, attended with keener pains,) with equal constancy and
resolution. After this, he was again remanded to his dungeon, attended by
the surgeon to dress his bruises and adjust the part dislocated, and here he
continued till their Auto de Fe, or jail delivery, when he was discharged,
crippled and diseased for life.
The fifth day of November, about the year of our Lord 1560, Mr. Nicholas
Burton, citizen sometime of London, and merchant, dwelling in the parish
of Little St. Bartholomew, peaceably and quietly following his traffic in the
trade of merchandize, and being in the city of Cadiz, in the party of
Andalusia, in Spain, there came into his lodging a Judas, or, as they term
them, a familiar of the fathers of the inquisition; who asking for the said
Nicholas Burton, feigned that he had a letter to deliver into his own hands;
by which means he spake with him immediately. And having no letter to
deliver to him, then the said promoter, or familiar, at the motion of the devil
his master, whose messenger he was, invented another lie, and said, that he
would take lading for London in such ships as the said Nicholas Burton had
freighted to lade, if he would let any; which was partly to know where he
loaded his goods, that they might attach them, and chiefly to protract the
time until the sergeant of the inquisition might come and apprehend the
body of the said Nicholas Burton; which they did incontinently.
He then well perceiving that they were not able to burden or charge him
that he had written, spoke, or done any thing there in that country against
CHAPTER V. 116
the ecclesiastical or temporal laws of the same realm, boldly asked them
what they had to lay to his charge that they did so arrest him, and bade
them to declare the cause, and he would answer them. Notwithstanding
they answered nothing, but commanded him with threatening words to hold
his peace, and not speak one word to them.
And so they carried him to the filthy common prison of the town of Cadiz,
where he remained in irons fourteen days amongst thieves.
All which time he so instructed the poor prisoners in the word of God,
according to the good talent which God had given him in that behalf, and
also in the Spanish tongue to utter the same, that in that short space he had
well reclaimed several of those superstitious and ignorant Spaniards to
embrace the word of God, and to reject their popish traditions.
Which being known unto the officers of the inquisition, they conveyed him
laden with irons from thence to a city called Seville, into a more cruel and
straiter prison called Triana, where the said fathers of the inquisition
proceeded against him secretly according to their accustomable cruel
tyranny, that never after he could be suffered to write or speak to any of his
nation: so that to this day it is unknown who was his accuser.
Afterward, the 20th of December, they brought the said Nicholas Burton,
with a great number of other prisoners, for professing the true Christian
religion, into the city of Seville, to a place where the said inquisitors sat in
judgment which they called Auto, with a canvass coat, whereupon in divers
parts was painted the figure of a huge devil, tormenting a soul in a flame of
fire, and on his head a copping tank of the same work.
His tongue was forced out of his mouth with a cloven stick fastened upon
it, that he should not utter his conscience and faith to the people, and so he
was set with another Englishman of Southampton, and divers other
condemned men for religion, as well Frenchmen as Spaniards, upon a
scaffold over against the said inquisition, where their sentences and
judgments were read and pronounced against them.
CHAPTER V. 117
And immediately after the said sentences given, they were carried from
thence to the place of execution without the city, where they most cruelly
burned them, for whose constant faith, God be praised.
This Nicholas Burton by the way, and in the flames of fire, had so cheerful
a countenance, embracing death with all patience and gladness, that the
tormentors and enemies which stood by, said, that the devil had his soul
before he came to the fire; and therefore they said his senses of feeling were
past him.
When his attorney was landed at Seville, and had shown all his letters and
writings to the holy house, requiring them that such goods might be
delivered into his possession, answer was made to him that he must sue by
bill, and retain an advocate (but all was doubtless to delay him,) and they
forsooth of courtesy assigned him one to frame his supplication for him,
and other such bills of petition, as he had to exhibit into their holy court,
demanding for each bill eight rials, albeit they stood him in no more stead
than if he had put up none at all. And for the space of three or four months
this fellow missed not twice a day attending every morning and afternoon
at the inquisitors' palace, suing unto them upon his knees for his despatch,
but especially to the bishop of Tarracon, who was at that very time chief in
the inquisition at Seville, that he of his absolute authority would command
restitution to be made thereof; but the booty was so good and great, that it
was very hard to come by it again.
CHAPTER V. 118
At length, after he had spent four whole months in suits and requests, and
also to no purpose, he received this answer from them, That he must show
better evidence, and bring more sufficient certificates out of England for
proof of this matter, than those which he had already presented to the court.
Whereupon the party forthwith posted to London, and with all speed
returned to Seville again with more ample and large letters testimonial, and
certificates, according to their requests, and exhibited them to the court.
At last, when the party had well nigh spent all his money, and therefore
sued the more earnestly for his despatch, they referred the matter wholly to
the bishop. Of whom, when he repaired unto him, he made this answer,
That for himself, he knew what he had to do, howbeit he was but one man,
and the determination appertained to the other commissioners as well as
unto him; and thus by posting and passing it from one to another, the party
could obtain no end of his suit. Yet for his importunity's sake, they were
resolved to despatch him: it was on this sort: one of the inquisitors, called
Gasco, a man very well experienced in these practices, willed the party to
resort unto him after dinner.
The fellow being glad to hear this news, and supposing that his goods
should be restored unto him, and that he was called in for that purpose to
talk with the other that was in prison to confer with him about their
accounts, rather through a little misunderstanding, hearing the inquisitors
cast out a word, that it should be needful for him to talk with the prisoner,
and being thereupon more than half persuaded, that at length they meant
good faith, did so, and repaired thither about the evening. Immediately
upon his coming, the jailer was forthwith charged with him, to shut him up
close in such a prison where they appointed him.
The party, hoping at the first that he had been called for about some other
matter, and seeing himself, contrary to his expectation, cast into a dark
dungeon, perceived at length that the world went with him far otherwise
CHAPTER V. 119
But within two or three days after, he was brought into the court where he
began to demand his goods: and because it was a device that well served
their turn without any more circumstance, they bid him say his Ave Maria;
"Ave Maria gratia plena, Dominus tecum, benedicta tu in mulieribus, et
benedictus fructus ventris tui Jesus. Amen."
The same was written word by word as he spake it, and without any more
talk of claiming his goods, because it was needless, they commanded him
to prison again, and entered an action against him as a heretic, forasmuch as
he did not say his Ave Maria after the Romish fashion, but ended it very
suspiciously, for he should have added moreover; "Sancta Maria mater Dei,
ora pro nobis peccatoribus:" by abbreviating whereof, it was evident
enough (said they) that he did not allow the mediation of saints.
Thus they picked a quarrel to detain him in prison a longer season, and
afterward brought him forth upon their stage disguised after their manner;
where sentence was given, that he should lose all the goods which he sued
for, though they were not his own, and besides this, suffer a year's
imprisonment.
William Hoker, a young man about the age of sixteen years, being an
Englishman, was stoned to death by certain young men in the city of
Seville, for the same righteous cause.
When the crown of Spain was contested for in the beginning of the present
century, by two princes, who equally pretended to the sovereignty, France
espoused the cause of one competitor, and England of the other.
CHAPTER V. 120
The duke of Berwick, a natural son of James II. who abdicated England,
commanded the Spanish and French forces, and defeated the English at the
celebrated battle of Almanza. The army was then divided into two parts; the
one consisting 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.
As the troops drew near to the city of Arragon, the magistrates came to
offer the keys to the duke of Orleans; but he told them, haughtily, they were
rebels, and that he would not accept the keys, for he had orders to enter the
city through a breach.
He accordingly made a breach in the walls with his cannon, and then
entered the city through it, together with his whole army.--When he had
made every necessary regulation here, he departed to subdue other places,
leaving a strong garrison at once to overawe and defend, 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 with great bravery: and was, at once, the skilful officer, and
accomplished gentleman.
The duke, before his departure, had ordered that heavy contributions should
be levied upon the city to the following manner:
2. That every house should pay one pistole, which would monthly amount
to 18,000 pistoles.
The money levied upon the magistrates and principal inhabitants, and upon
every house, was paid as soon as demanded; but when the proper persons
applied to the heads of convents and monasteries, they found that the
ecclesiastics were not so willing, as other people, to part with their cash.
But the Dominicans, who were all familiars of, or agents dependent on, the
inquisition, imagined, that that very circumstance would be their protection;
but they were mistaken, for M. de Legal neither feared nor respected 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, says he, the whole wealth of the Dominicans consists
CHAPTER V. 122
only in the silver images of the apostles and saints, as large as life, which
are placed in our church, and which it would be sacrilege to remove.
This insinuation was meant to terrify the French commander, whom the
inquisitors imagined would not dare to be so profane as to wish for the
possession of the precious idols.
He, however, sent word that the silver images would make admirable
substitutes for money, and would be more in character in his possession,
than in that of the Dominicans themselves, "For, (said he) while you
possess them in the manner you do at present, they stand up in niches,
useless and motionless, without being of the least benefit to mankind in
general, or even to yourselves; but, when they come into my possession,
they shall be useful; I will put them in motion; for I intend to have them
coined, when they may travel like the apostles, be beneficial in various
places, and circulate for the universal service of mankind."
The friars did all they could to raise the tumult, but the common people
were too much afraid of the troops under arms to obey them, the silver
images were, therefore, of necessity delivered up to M. de Legal, who sent
them to the mint, and ordered them to be coined immediately.
CHAPTER V. 123
When the secretary of the inquisition was gone, M. De Legal ordered his
own secretary to prepare a form of excommunication, exactly like that sent
by the inquisition; but to make this alteration, 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 as he directed.
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 excommunication sent by M. De Legal against the
inquisitors. The inquisitors were all present, and heard it with astonishment,
never having before met with any individual who dared behave so boldly.
They loudly cried out against De Legal, as a heretic; and said, this was a
most daring insult against the catholic faith. But, to surprise them still
more, the French secretary told them, they must remove from their present
lodgings; for the French commander wanted to quarter the troops in the
inquisition, as it was the most commodious place in the whole city.
The inquisitors exclaimed loudly upon this occasion, when the secretary put
them under a strong guard, and sent them to a place appointed by M. De
Legal to receive them. The inquisitors, finding how things went, begged
that they might be permitted to take their private property, which was
CHAPTER V. 124
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 injuries they had received were from his
grandfather, the king of France's troops, by whose assistance alone he could
be firmly established in his kingdom. "Had it been my own troops, (said he)
I would have punished them; but as it is, I cannot pretend to exert any
authority."
In the mean time, M. De Legal's secretary set open all the doors of the
inquisition, and released the prisoners, who amounted in the whole to 400;
and among these were 60 beautiful young women, who appeared to form a
seraglio for the three principal inquisitors.
This discovery, which laid the enormity of the inquisitors so open, 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 office of the inquisition.
The French commander sent word to the archbishop, that the prisoners had
either run away, or were so securely concealed by their friends, or even by
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 exposure.
One of the ladies thus happily delivered from captivity, was afterward
married to the very French officer who opened the door of her dungeon,
and released her from confinement. The lady related the following
circumstances to her husband, and to M. Gavin, (author of the Master Key
to Popery) from the latter of whom we have selected the most material
particulars.
"I went one day (says the lady) with my mother, to visit the countess
Attarass, and I met there Don Francisco Tirregon, her confessor and second
inquisitor of the holy office.
CHAPTER V. 125
The maid, who laid in the same room with me, went to the window, and
inquired who was there. The answer was, THE HOLY INQUISITION. On
hearing this I screamed out, Father! father! dear father, I am ruined forever!
My father got up, and came to me to know the occasion of my crying out; I
told him the inquisitors were at the door. On hearing this, instead of
protecting me, he hurried down stairs as fast as possible; and, lest the maid
should be too slow, opened the street door himself; under such abject and
slavish fears, are bigoted minds! as soon as he knew they came for me, he
fetched me with great solemnity, and delivered me to the officers with
much submission.
I was hurried into a coach, with no other clothing than a petticoat and a
mantle, for they would not let me stay to take any thing else. My fright was
so great, I expected to die that very night; but judge my surprise, when I
was ushered into an apartment, decorated with all the elegance that taste,
united with opulence, could bestow.
Soon after the officers left me, a maid servant appeared with a silver salver,
on which were sweetmeats and cinnamon water. She desired me to take
some refreshment before I went to bed; I told her I could not, but should be
glad if she could inform me whether I was to be put to death that night or
not.
CHAPTER V. 126
"To be put to death! (exclaimed she) you do not come here to be put to
death, but to live like a princess, and you shall want for nothing in the
world, but the liberty of going out; so pray don't be afraid, but go to bed
and sleep easy; for to-morrow you shall see wonders within this house; and
as I am chosen to be your waiting-maid, I hope you'll be very kind to me."
I was going to ask some questions, but she told me she must not answer any
thing more till the next day, but assured me that nobody would come to
disturb me. I am going, she said, about a little business but I will come back
presently, for my bed is in the closet next yours, so she left me for about a
quarter of an hour, and then returned. She then said, madam, pray let me
know when you will be pleased have your chocolate ready in the morning.
This greatly surprised me, so that without replying to her question, I asked
her name;--she said, my name is Mary. Mary, then, said I, for heaven's
sake, tell me whether I am brought here to die or not?--I have told you
already, replied she, that you came here to be one of the happiest ladies in
the world.
We went to bed, but the fear of death prevented me from sleeping the
whole night; Mary waked; she was surprised to find me up, but she soon
rose, and after leaving me for about half an hour, she brought in two cups
of chocolate, and some biscuit on a silver plate.
I drank one cup of chocolate, and desired her to drink the other, which she
did: when we had done, I said, well, Mary, can you give me any account of
the reasons for my being brought here? To which she answered, not yet,
madam, you must have patience, and immediately slipped out of the room.
About half an hour after, she brought a great quantity of elegant clothes,
suitable to a lady of the highest rank, and told me, I must dress myself.
Among several trinkets which accompanied the clothes, I observed, with
surprise, a snuff box, in the lid of which was a picture of Don Francisco
Tirregon. This unravelled to me the mystery of my confinement, and at the
same time roused my imagination to contrive how to evade receiving the
present. If I absolutely refused it, I thought immediate death must ensue;
CHAPTER V. 127
and to accept it, was giving him too much encouragement against my
honour. At length I hit upon a medium, and said to Mary, pray present my
respects to Don Francisco Tirregon, and tell him, that, as I could not bring
my clothes along with me last night, modesty permits me to accept of these
garments, which are requisite to keep me decent; but since I do not take
snuff, I hope his lordship will excuse me in not accepting his box.
Mary went with my answer, and soon returned with Don Francisco's
portrait elegantly set in gold, and richly embellished with diamonds. This
message accompanied it: "That his lordship had made a mistake, his intent
not being to send me a snuffbox, but his portrait." I was at a great loss what
to do; when Mary said, pray, madam, take my poor advice; accept of the
portrait, and every thing else that his lordship sends you; for if you do not,
he can compel you to do what he pleases, and put you to death when he
thinks proper, without any body being able to defend you. But if you are
obliging to him, continued she, he will be very kind, and you will be as
happy as a queen; you will have elegant apartments to live in, beautiful
gardens to range in, and agreeable ladies to visit you: therefore, I advise
you to send a civil answer, or even not to deny a visit from his lordship, or
perhaps you may repent of your disrespect.
She said she was glad of my humble submission, and ran to acquaint Don
Francisco with it. In a few minutes she returned, with joy in her
countenance, telling me his lordship would honour me with his company to
supper. "And now give me leave, madam, (said she) to call you mistress,
for I am to wait upon you. I have been in a holy office fourteen years, and
know all the customs perfectly well; but as silence is imposed upon me,
under pain of death, I can only answer such questions as immediately relate
to your own person. But I would advise you never to oppose the holy
father's will; or if you see any young ladies about, never ask them any
CHAPTER V. 128
questions. You may divert yourself sometimes among them, but must never
tell them any thing: three days hence you will dine with them; and at all
times you may have music, and other recreations. In fine, you will be so
happy, that you will not wish to go abroad; and when your time is expired,
the holy fathers will send you out of this country, and marry you to some
nobleman." After saying these words she left me, overwhelmed with
astonishment, and scarce knowing what to think. As soon as I recovered
myself, I began to look about, and finding a closet, I opened it, and
perceived that it was filled with books: they ware chiefly upon historical
and profane subjects, but not any on religious matter. I chose out a book of
history, and so passed the interval with some degree of satisfaction till
dinner time.
The dinner was served up with the greatest elegance, and consisted of all
that could gratify the most luxurious appetite. When dinner was over, Mary
left me, and told me, if I wanted any thing I might ring a bell, which she
pointed out to me.
I read a book to amuse myself during the afternoon, and at seven in the
evening, Don Francisco came to visit me in his night-gown and cap, not
with the gravity of an inquisitor, but with the gayety of a gallant.
He saluted me with great respect, and told me, that he came to see me in
order to show the great respect he had for my family, and to inform me that
it was my lovers who had procured my confinement, having accused me in
matters of religion; and that the informations were taken, and the sentence
pronounced against me, to be burnt in a dry pan, with a gradual fire; but
that he, out of pity and love to my family, had stopped the execution of it.
These words were like daggers to my heart; I dropped at his feet, and said,
"Ah, my lord! have you stopped the execution for ever?" He replied, "that
belongs to yourself only," and abruptly wished me good night.
As soon as he was gone I burst into tears, when Mary came and asked me
what could make me cry so bitterly. To which I answered, oh, Mary! what
is the meaning of the dry pan and gradual fire? for I am to die by them!
CHAPTER V. 129
Madam, said she, never fear, you shall see, ere long, the dry pan and
gradual fire; but they are made for those who oppose the holy father's will,
not for you who are so good as to obey it. But pray, says she, was Don
Francisco very obliging? I don't know, said I, for he frightened me out of
my wits by his discourse; he saluted me with civility, but left me abruptly.
Well, said Mary, you do not yet know his temper, he is extremely obliging
to them that are kind to him; but if they are disobedient he is unmerciful as
Nero; so, for your own sake, take care to oblige him in all respects: and
now, dear madam, pray go to supper, and be easy. I went to supper, indeed,
and afterward to bed; but I could neither eat nor sleep, for the thoughts of
the dry pan and gradual fire deprived me of appetite, and banished
drowsiness.
Early the next morning Mary said, that as nobody was stirring, if I would
promise her secrecy, she would show me the dry pan and gradual fire; so
taking me down stairs, she brought me to a large room, with a thick iron
door, which she opened. Within it was an oven, with fire in it at the time,
and a large brass upon it, with a cover of the same, and a lock to it. In the
next room there was a great wheel, covered on both sides with thick boards,
opening a little window in the centre, Mary desired me to look in with a
candle; there I saw all the circumference of the wheel set with sharp razors,
which made me shudder.
We went back again to my chamber, and Mary said, that another day she
would show me the torments designed for other transgressors, but I was in
such agonies at what I had seen, that I begged to be terrified with no more
such sights. She soon after left me, but not without enjoining my strict
obedience to Don Francisco; for if you do not comply with his will, said
she, the dry pan and gradual fire will be your fate.
The horrors which the sight of these things, and Mary's expressions,
impressed on my mind, almost bereaved me of my senses, and left me in
such a state of stupefaction that I seemed to have no manner of will of my
own.
The next morning Mary said, now let me dress you as nice as possible, for
you must go and wish Don Francisco good-morrow, and breakfast with
him. When I was dressed, she conveyed me through a gallery into his
apartment, where I found that he was in bed. He ordered Mary to withdraw,
and to serve up breakfast in about two hours time. When Mary was gone,
he commanded me to undress myself and come to bed to him. The manner
in which he spoke, and the dreadful ideas with which my mind was filled,
so terribly frightened me, that I pulled off my cloths, without knowing what
I did, and stepped into bed, insensible of the indecency I was transacting: so
totally had the care of self preservation absorbed all my other thoughts, and
so entirely were the ideas of delicacy obliterated by the force of terror!
Thus, to avoid the dry pan, did I entail upon myself perpetual infamy; and
to escape the so much dreaded gradual fire, give myself up to the flames of
lust. Wretched alternative, where the only choice is an excruciating death,
or everlasting pollution!
Mary came at the expiration of two hours, and served us with chocolate in
the most submissive manner; for she kneeled down by the bedside to
present it. When I was dressed, Mary took me into a very delightful
apartment, which I had never yet seen. It was furnished with the most
costly elegance; but what gave me the greatest astonishment was, the
CHAPTER V. 131
At eight o'clock Mary rang a bell, which was a signal for all to retire to
their respective apartments, and I was conducted to the chamber of Don
Francisco, where I slept. The next morning Mary brought me a richer dress
than any I had yet had; and as soon as I retired to my apartment, all the
ladies came to wish me good-morning, dressed much richer than the
CHAPTER V. 132
preceding day. We passed the time till eight o'clock in the evening, in much
the same manner as we had done the day before. At that time the bell rang,
the separation took place, and I was conducted to Don Francisco's chamber.
The next morning I had a garment richer than the last, and they accosted me
in apparel still more sumptuous than before. The transactions of the two
former days were repeated on the third, and the evening concluded in a
similar manner.
On the fourth morning Mary came into Don Francisco's chamber and told
me I must immediately rise, for a lady wanted me in her own chamber. She
spoke with a kind of authority which surprised me; but as Don Francisco
did not speak a syllable, I got up and obeyed. Mary then conveyed me into
a dismal dungeon, not eight feet in length; and said sternly to me, This is
your room, and this lady your bed-fellow and companion. At which words
she bounced out of the room, and left me in the utmost consternation.
The lady took me by the hand, and said in a sympathizing tone of voice,
"Dear sister, (for this is the name I shall henceforth give you) forbear to cry
and grieve, for you can do nothing by such an extravagant behaviour, but
draw upon yourself a cruel death. Your misfortunes, and those of all the
ladies you have seen, are exactly of a piece, you suffer nothing but what we
have suffered before you; but we dare not show our grief, for fear of greater
evils. Pray take courage, and hope in God, for he will surely deliver us from
this hellish place; but be sure you discover no uneasiness before Mary, who
is the only instrument either of our torments or comfort. Have patience until
we go to bed, and then I will venture to tell you more of the matter."
repast, and those I had before partook of. This consisted only of plain,
common food, and of that a scanty allowance, with one plate, and one knife
and fork for us both, which she took away as soon as we had dined.
When we were in bed, Leonora was as good as her word; and upon my
solemn promise of secrecy thus began to open her mind to me.
"My dear sister, you think your case very hard, but I assure you all the
ladies in the house have gone through the same. In time, you will know all
their stories, as they hope to know yours. I suppose Mary has been the chief
instrument of your fright, as she has been of ours; and I warrant she has
shown you some horrible places, though not all; and that, at the very
thought of them you were so terrified, that you chose the same way we
have done to redeem yourself from death. By what hath happened to us, we
know that Don Francisco hath been your Nero, your tyrant; for the three
colours of our clothes are the distinguishing tokens of the three holy
fathers. The red silk belongs to Don Francisco, the blue to Don Guerrero,
and the green to Don Aliga; and they always give those colours (after the
farce of changing garments and the short-lived recreations are over) to
those ladies whom they bring here for their respective uses.
"We are strictly commanded to express all the demonstrations of joy, and to
be very merry for three days, when a young lady first comes amongst us, as
we did with you, and as you must now do with others. But afterward we
live like the most wretched prisoners, without seeing any body but Mary,
and the other maid-servants, over whom Mary hath a kind of superiority,
for she acts as housekeeper. We all dine in the great hall three days in a
week; and when any one of the inquisitors hath a mind for one of his
slaves, Mary comes about nine o'clock, and leads her to his apartment.
"Some nights Mary leaves the doors of our chambers open, and that is a
token that one of the inquisitors hath a mind to come that night; but he
comes so silent that we are ignorant whether he is our patron or not. If one
of us happens to be with child, she is removed into a better chamber till she
is delivered; but during the whole of her pregnancy, she never sees any
body but the person appointed to attend her.
CHAPTER V. 134
"As soon as the child is born it is taken away, and carried we know not
whither; for we never hear a syllable mentioned about it afterward. I have
been in this house six years, was not fourteen when the officers took me
from my father's house, and have had one child. There are, at this present
time, fifty-two young ladies in the house; but we annually lose six or eight,
though we know not what becomes of them, or whither they are sent. This,
however, does not diminish our number, for new ones are always brought
in to supply the place of those who are removed from hence; and I
remember, at one time, to have seen seventy-three ladies here together. Our
continual torment is to reflect that when they are tired of any of the ladies,
they certainly put to death those they pretend to send away; for it is natural
to think, that they have too much policy to suffer their atrocious and
infernal villanies to be discovered, by enlarging them. Hence our situation
is miserable indeed, and we have only to pray that the Almighty will
pardon those crimes which we are compelled to commit. Therefore, my
dear sister, arm yourself with patience, for that is the only palliative to give
you comfort, and put a firm confidence in the providence of Almighty
God."
From the foregoing narrative it is evident, that the inquisitors are a set of
libidinous villains, lost to every just idea of religion, and totally destitute of
humanity. Those who possess wealth, beauty, or liberal sentiments, are sure
to find enemies in them. Avarice, lust, and prejudice, are their ruling
CHAPTER V. 135
passions; and they sacrifice every law, human and divine, to gratify their
predominant desire. Their supposed piety is affectation; their pretended
compassion hypocrisy; their justice depends on their will: and their
equitable punishments are founded on their prejudices. None are secure
from them, all ranks fall equally victims to their pride, their power, their
avarice, or their aversion.
Some may suggest, that it is strange crowned heads and eminent nobles,
have not attempted to crush the power of the inquisition, and reduce the
authority of those ecclesiastical tyrants, from whose merciless fangs neither
their families nor themselves are secure.
This was that amiable prince Don Carlos, son of Philip the Second, king of
Spain, and grandson of the celebrated emperor Charles V. Don Carlos,
possessed all the good qualities of his grandfather without any of the bad
ones of his father; and was a prince of great vivacity, admirable learning,
and the most amiable disposition.--He had sense enough to see into the
errors of popery, and abhorred the very name of the inquisition. He
inveighed publicly against the institution, ridiculed the affected piety of the
inquisitors, did all he could to expose their atrocious deeds, end even
declared, that if he ever came to the crown, he would abolish the
inquisition, and exterminate its agents.
These things were sufficient to irritate the inquisitors against the prince:
they, accordingly, bent their minds to vengeance, and determined on his
destruction.
The inquisitors now employed all their agents and emissaries to spread
abroad the most artful insinuations against the prince; and, at length, raised
such a spirit of discontent among the people, that the king was under the
CHAPTER V. 136
necessity of removing Don Carlos from court. Not content with this, they
pursued even his friends, and obliged the king likewise to banish Don John,
duke of Austria, his own brother, and consequently uncle to the prince;
together with the prince of Parma, nephew to the king, and cousin to the
prince, because they well knew that both the duke of Austria, and the prince
of Parma, had a most sincere and inviolable attachment to Don Carlos.
Some few years after, the prince having shown great lenity and favour to
the protestants in the Netherlands, the inquisition loudly exclaimed against
him, declaring, that as the persons in question were heretics, the prince
himself must necessarily be one, since he gave them countenance. In short,
they gained so great an ascendency over the mind of the king, who was
absolutely a slave to superstition, that, shocking to relate, he sacrificed the
feelings of nature to the force of bigotry, and, for fear of incurring the anger
of the inquisition, gave up his only son, passing the sentence of death on
him himself.
The prince, indeed, had what was termed an indulgence; that is, he was
permitted to choose the manner of his death. Roman like, the unfortunate
young hero 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 inquisitors, and the stupid bigotry of his father.
Dr. Ægidio was educated at the university of Alcala, where he took his
several degrees, and particularly applied himself to the study of the sacred
scriptures and school divinity. The professor of theology dying, he was
elected into his place, and acted so much to the satisfaction of every one,
that his reputation for learning and piety was circulated throughout Europe.
Ægidio, however, had his enemies, and these laid a complaint against him
to the inquisitors, who sent him a citation, and when he appeared to it, cast
him into a dungeon.
CHAPTER V. 137
He soon after visited the church of Valladolid, did every thing he could to
promote the cause of religion, and returning home he soon after fell sick,
and died in an extreme old age.
His eloquence rendered him pleasing, and the soundness of his doctrines a
profitable preacher; and he was so popular, that he never preached but to a
crowded audience. He had many opportunities of rising in the church, but
never would take advantage of them; for if a living of greater value than his
own was offered him, he would refuse it, saying, I am content with what I
have; and he frequently preached so forcibly against simony, that many of
his superiors, who were not so delicate upon the subject, took umbrage at
his doctrines upon that head.
CHAPTER V. 138
Dr. Constantine had deposited with a woman named Isabella Martin several
books, which to him were very valuable, but which he knew, in the eyes of
the inquisition, were exceptionable.
After being detained upwards of two years in prison, Dr. Constantine was
seized with a bloody flux, which put an end to his miseries in this world.
The process, however, was carried on against his body, which, at the
ensuing auto de fe, was publicly burnt.
At the age of twenty-six years, he was, by his master, sent to Lisbon, to act
as factor. Here he applied himself to the study of the Portuguese language,
executed his business with assiduity and despatch, and behaved with the
most engaging affability to all persons with whom he had the least concern.
He conversed privately with a few, whom he knew to be zealous
protestants; and, at the same time cautiously avoided giving the least
offence to any who were Roman catholics; he had not, however, hitherto
gone into any of the popish churches.
A marriage being concluded between the king of Portugal's son, and the
Infanta of Spain, upon the wedding-day the bride-groom, bride, and the
whole court went to the cathedral church, attended by multitudes of all
ranks of people, and among the rest William Gardiner who stayed during
the whole ceremony, and was greatly shocked at the superstitions he saw.
CHAPTER V. 140
The erroneous worship which he had seen ran strongly in his mind, he was
miserable to see a whole country sunk into such idolatry, when the truth of
the gospel might be so easily obtained. He, therefore, took the
inconsiderate, though laudable design, into his head, of making a reform in
Portugal, or perishing in the attempt; and determined to sacrifice his
prudence to his zeal, though he became a martyr upon the occasion.
To this end, he settled all his worldly affairs, paid his debts, closed his
books, and consigned over his merchandize. On the ensuing Sunday he
went again to the cathedral church, with a New Testament in his hand, and
placed himself near the altar.
The king and the court soon appeared, and a cardinal began mass at that
part of the ceremony in which the people adore the wafer, Gardiner could
hold out no longer, but springing towards the cardinal, he snatched the host
from him, and trampled it under his feet.
This action amazed the whole congregation, and one person drawing a
dagger, wounded Gardiner in the shoulder, and would, by repeating the
blow, have finished him, had not the king called to him to desist.
Gardiner, being carried before the king, the monarch asked him what
countryman he was: to which he replied, I am an Englishman by birth, a
protestant by religion, and a merchant by occupation. What I have done is
not out of contempt to your royal person, God forbid it should, but out of an
honest indignation, to see the ridiculous superstitions and gross idolatries
practised here.
The king, thinking that he had been stimulated by some other person to act
as he had done, demanded who was his abetter, 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 God.
Gardiner was sent to prison, and a general order issued to apprehend all
Englishmen in Lisbon. This order was in a great measure put into
execution, (some few escaping) and many innocent persons were tortured
CHAPTER V. 141
to make them confess if they knew any thing of the matter; in particular, a
person who resided in the same house with Gardiner, was treated with
unparallelled barbarity to make him confess something which might throw
a light upon the affair.
Gardiner himself was then tormented in the most excruciating manner; but
in the midst of all his torments he gloried in the deed. Being ordered for
death, a large fire was kindled near a gibbet, Gardiner 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 degrees. Yet he bore
his sufferings patiently and resigned his soul to the Lord cheerfully.
It is observable that some of the sparks were blown from the fire, (which
consumed Gardiner) towards the haven, 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 Gardiner's death, all discharged, except
the person who resided in the same house with him, who was detained two
years before he could procure his liberty.
This gentleman was descended from a good family, and having a natural
propensity for 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 the month of March, 1609, and the
first place he went to was Paris, where he stayed for some time. He then
prosecuted his travels through Germany and other parts, and at length
arrived at Malaga, in Spain, the seat of all his misfortunes.
During his residence here, he contracted with the master of a French ship
for his passage to Alexandria, but was prevented from going by the
following circumstances. In the evening of the 17th of October, 1620, the
English fleet, at that time on a cruise against the Algerine rovers, came to
anchor before Malaga, which threw the people of the town into the greatest
consternation, as they imagined them to be Turks. The morning, however,
CHAPTER V. 142
discovered the mistake, and the governor of Malaga, perceiving the cross of
England in their colours, went on board Sir Robert Mansell's ship, who
commanded on that expedition, and after staying some time returned, and
silenced the fears of the people.
The next day many persons from on board the fleet came ashore. Among
these were several well known by Mr. Lithgow, who, after reciprocal
compliments, spent some days together in festivity and the amusements of
the town. They then invited Mr. Lithgow to go on board, and pay his
respects to the admiral. He accordingly accepted the invitation, was kindly
received by him, and detained till the next day when the fleet sailed. The
admiral would willingly have taken Mr. Lithgow with him to Algiers; but
having contracted for his passage to Alexandria, and his baggage, &c.
being in the town, he could not accept the offer.
These orders were strictly discharged, and on the governor's return, he, with
the officers, having seated themselves, Mr. Lithgow was brought before
them for examination. The governor began by asking several questions,
namely, of what country he was, whither bound, and how long he had been
in Spain. The prisoner, after answering these and other questions, was
conducted to a closet, where, in a short space of time, he was visited by the
town-captain, who inquired whether he had ever been at Seville, or was
CHAPTER V. 143
lately come from thence; and patting his cheeks with an air of friendship
conjured him to tell the truth: "For (said he) your very countenance shows
there is some hidden matter in your mind, which prudence should direct
you to disclose." Finding himself, however, unable to extort anything from
the prisoner, he left him, and reported the same to the governor and the
other officers; on which Mr. Lithgow was again brought before them, a
general accusation was laid against him, and he was compelled to swear
that he would give true answers to such questions as should be asked him.
Besides, to sum up the whole, and put the truth past all doubt, they said, he
came from a council of war, held that morning on board the admiral's ship,
in order to put in execution the orders assigned him. They upbraided him
with being accessary to the burning of the island of St. Thomas, in the West
Indies. "Wherefore, (said they) these Lutherans, and sons of the devil,
ought to have no credit given to what they say or swear."
In vain did Mr. Lithgow, endeavour to obviate every accusation laid against
him, and to obtain belief from his prejudiced judges. He begged permission
to send for his cloak-bag, which contained his papers, and might serve to
show his innocence. This request they complied with, thinking it would
CHAPTER V. 144
discover some things of which they were ignorant. The cloak-bag was
accordingly brought, and being opened, among other things, was found a
license from king James the First, under the sign manuel, setting forth the
bearer's intention to travel into Egypt; which was treated by the haughty
Spaniards with great contempt. The other papers consisted of passports,
testimonials, &c. of persons of quality. All these credentials, however,
seemed rather to confirm than abate the suspicions of these prejudiced
judges, who, after seizing all the prisoner's papers, ordered him again to
withdraw.
In the mean time a consultation was held to fix the place where the prisoner
should be confined. The alcade, or chief judge, was for putting him into the
town prison; but this was objected to, particularly by the corregidor, who
said, in Spanish, "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 consequences;" upon which it was agreed, that he should
be confined in the governor's house with the greatest secrecy.
This matter being determined, one of the sergeants went to Mr. Lithgow,
and begged his money, with liberty to search him. As it was needless to
make any resistance, the prisoner quietly complied, when the sergeant (after
rifling his pockets of eleven ducatoons) stripped him to his shirt; and
searching his breeches he found, enclosed in the waistband, two canvass
bags, containing one hundred and thirty-seven pieces of gold. The sergeant
immediately took the money to the corregidor, who, after having told it
over, ordered him to clothe the prisoner, and shut him up close till after
supper.
About midnight, the sergeant and two Turkish slaves released Mr. Lithgow
from his then confinement, but it was to introduce him to one much more
horrible. They conducted him through several passages, to a chamber in a
remote part of the palace, towards the garden, where they loaded him with
irons, and extended his legs by means of an iron bar above a yard long, the
weight of which was so great that he could neither stand nor sit, but was
obliged to lie continually on his back. They left him in this condition for
some time, when they returned with a refreshment of food, consisting of a
CHAPTER V. 145
pound of boiled mutton and a loaf, together with a small quantity of wine;
which was not only the first, but the best and last of the kind, during his
confinement in this place. After delivering these articles, the sergeant
locked the door, and left Mr. Lithgow to his own private contemplations.
The next day he received a visit from the governor, 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 farther torments constrained
him to confess, commanding the keeper, to whose care he was committed,
that he should permit no person whatever to have access to, or commune
with him; that his sustenance should not exceed three ounces of musty
bread, and a pint of water every second day; that he shall be allowed neither
bed, pillow, nor coverlid. "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." These, and several other orders
of the like severity, were given to render it impossible for his condition to
be known to those of the English nation.
In this wretched and melancholy state did poor Lithgow continue without
seeing any person for several days, in which time the governor received an
answer to a letter he had written, relative to the prisoner from Madrid; and,
pursuant to the instructions given him, began to put in practice the cruelties
devised, which they hastened, because Christmas holy-days approached, it
being then the forty-seventh day since his imprisonment.
About two o'clock in the morning, he heard the noise of a coach in the
street, and some time after heard the opening of the prison doors, not
having had any sleep for two nights; hunger, pain, and melancholy
reflections having prevented him from taking any repose.
Soon after the prison doors were opened, the nine sergeants, who had first
seized him, entered the place where he lay, and without uttering a word,
conducted him in his irons through the house into the street, where a coach
waited, and into which they laid him at the bottom on his back, not being
able to sit. Two of the sergeants rode with him, and the rest walked by the
CHAPTER V. 146
coach side, but all observed the most profound silence. They drove him to a
vinepress house, about a league from the town, to which place a rack had
been privately conveyed before; and here they shut him up for that night.
At day-break the next morning, arrived the governor and the alcade, into
whose presence Mr. Lithgow was immediately brought to undergo another
examination. The prisoner desired he might have an interpreter, which was
allowed to strangers by the laws of that country, but this was refused, nor
would they permit him to appeal to Madrid, the superior court of judicature.
After a long examination, which lasted from morning till night, there
appeared in all his answers so exact a conformity with what he had before
said, that they declared he had learned them by heart, there not being the
least prevarication. They, however, pressed him again to make a full
discovery; that is, to accuse himself of crimes never committed, the
governor adding, "You are still in my power; I can set you free if you
comply, if not, I must deliver you to the alcade." Mr. Lithgow still
persisting in his innocence, the governor ordered the notary to draw up a
warrant for delivering him to the alcade to be tortured.
When 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 grievous trial he had to encounter. The alcade and notary
having placed themselves in chairs, he was stripped naked, and fixed upon
the rack, the office of these gentlemen being to be witness of, and set down
the confessions and tortures endured by the delinquent.
CHAPTER V. 147
These cruel persecutors being satisfied for the present, the prisoner was
taken from the rack, and his irons being again put on, he was conducted to
his former dungeon, having received no other nourishment than a little
warm wine, which was given him rather to prevent his dying, and reserve
him for future punishments, than from any principle of charity or
compassion.
In this loathsome prison was poor Mr. Lithgow kept till he was almost
devoured by vermin. They crawled about his beard, lips, eye-brows, &c. so
that he could scarce open his eyes; and his mortification was increased by
not having the use of his hands or legs to defend himself, from his being so
miserably maimed by the tortures. So cruel was the governor, that he even
ordered the vermin to be swept on him twice in every eight days. He,
however obtained some little mitigation of this part of his punishment, from
the humanity of a Turkish slave that attended him, who, when he could do
it with safety, destroyed the vermin, and contributed every refreshment to
CHAPTER V. 148
From this slave Mr. Lithgow at length received information which gave
him little hopes of ever being released, but, on the contrary, that he should
finish his life under new tortures. The substance of this information was,
that an English seminary priest, and a Scotch cooper, had been for some
time employed by the governor to translate from the English into the
Spanish language, all his books and observations; and that it was
commonly said in the governor's house, that he was an arch heretic.
This information greatly alarmed him, and he began, not without reason, to
fear that they would soon finish him, more especially as they could neither
by torture or any other means, bring him to vary from what he had all along
said at his different examinations.
Two days after he had received the above information, the governor, an
inquisitor, and a canonical priest, accompanied by two Jesuits, entered his
dungeon, and being seated, after several idle questions, the inquisitor asked
Mr. Lithgow if he was a Roman catholic, and acknowledged the pope's
supremacy? He answered, that he neither was the one or did the other;
adding, that he was surprised at being asked such questions, since it was
expressly stipulated by the articles of peace between England and Spain,
that none of the English subjects should be liable to the inquisition, or any
way molested by them on account of diversity in religion, &c. In the
bitterness of his soul he made use of some warm expressions not suited to
his circumstances: "As you have almost murdered me (said he) for
pretended treason, so now you intend to make a martyr of me for my
religion." He also expostulated with the governor on the ill return he made
to the king of England, (whose subject he was) for the princely humanity
exercised towards the Spaniards in 1588, when their armada was
shipwrecked on the Scotch coast, and thousands of the Spaniards found
relief, who must otherwise have miserably perished.
The governor admitted the truth of what Mr. Lithgow said, but replied with
a haughty air, that the king, who then only ruled Scotland, was actuated
more by fear than love, and therefore did not deserve any thanks. One of
CHAPTER V. 149
the Jesuits said, there was no faith to be kept with heretics. The inquisitor
then rising, addressed himself to Mr Lithgow in the following words: "You
have been taken up as a spy, accused of treachery, and tortured, as we
acknowledge, innocently: (which appears by the account lately received
from Madrid of the intentions of the English) yet it was the divine power
that brought those judgments upon you, for presumptuously treating the
blessed miracle of Loretto with ridicule, and expressing yourself in your
writings irreverently of his holiness, the great agent and Christ's vicar upon
earth; therefore you are justly fallen into our hands by their special
appointment: thy books and papers are miraculously translated by the
assistance of Providence influencing thy own countrymen."
This trumpery being ended, they gave the prisoner eight days to consider
and resolve whether he would become a convert to their religion; during
which time the inquisitor told him he, with other religious orders, would
attend, to give him such assistance thereto as he might want. 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 both save your soul and
body."
In the morning, the inquisitor with three other ecclesiastics returned, when
the former asked the prisoner what difficulties he had on his conscience
that retarded his conversion; to which he answered, "he had not any doubts
in his mind, being confident in the promises of Christ, and assuredly
believing his revealed will signified in the gospels, as professed in the
reformed catholic church, being confirmed by grace, and having infallible
assurance thereby of the christian faith." To these words the inquisitor
replied, "Thou art no christian, but an absurd heretic, and without
conversion a member of perdition." The prisoner then told him, it was not
consistent with the nature and essence of religion and charity to convince
by opprobrious speeches, racks, and torments, but by arguments deduced
from the scriptures; and that all other methods would with him be totally
ineffectual.
CHAPTER V. 150
The inquisitor was so enraged at the replies made by the prisoner, that he
struck him on the face, used many abusive speeches, and attempted to stab
him, which he had certainly done had he not been prevented by the Jesuits:
and from this time he never again visited the prisoner.
The next day the two Jesuits returned, and putting on a very grave
supercilious air, the superior asked him, what resolution he had taken? To
which Mr. Lithgow replied, that he was already resolved, unless he could
show substantial reasons to make him alter his opinion. The superior, after
a pedantic display of their seven sacraments, the intercession of saints,
transubstantiation, &c. boasted greatly of their church, her antiquity,
universality, and uniformity; all which Mr. Lithgow denied: "For (said he)
the profession of the faith I hold hath been ever since the first days of the
apostles, and Christ had ever his own church (however obscure) in the
greatest time of your darkness."
The Jesuits, finding their arguments had not the desired effect, that
torments could not shake his constancy, nor even the fear of the cruel
sentence he had reason to expect would be pronounced and executed on
him, after severe menaces, left him. On the eighth day after being the last of
their inquisition, when sentence is pronounced, they returned again, but
quite altered both in their words and behaviour after repeating much of the
same kind of arguments as before, they with seeming tears in their eyes,
pretended they were sorry from their heart he must be obliged to undergo a
terrible death, but above all, for the loss of his most precious soul; and
falling on their knees, cried out, "Convert, convert, O dear brother, for our
blessed lady's sake convert!" To which he answered, "I fear neither death
nor fire, being prepared for both."
The first effects Mr. Lithgow felt of the determination of this bloody
tribunal was, a sentence to receive that night eleven different tortures, and if
he did not die in the execution of them, (which might be reasonably
expected from the maimed and disjointed condition he was in) he was, after
Easter holy-days, to be carried to Grenada, and there burnt to ashes. The
first part of this sentence was executed with great barbarity that night; and
it pleased God to give him strength both of body and mind, to stand fast to
CHAPTER V. 151
After these barbarians had glutted themselves for the present, with
exercising on the unhappy prisoner the most distinguished cruelties, they
again put irons on, and conveyed him to his former dungeon. The next
morning he received some little comfort from the Turkish slave before
mentioned, who secretly brought him, in his shirt sleeve, some raisins and
figs, which he licked up in the best manner his strength would permit with
his tongue. It was to this slave Mr. Lithgow attributed his surviving so long
in such a wretched situation; for he found means to convey some of these
fruits to him twice every week. It is very extraordinary, and worthy of note,
that this poor slave, bred up from his infancy, according to the maxims of
his prophet and parents, in the greatest detestation of christians, should be
so affected at the miserable situation of Mr. Lithgow, that he fell ill, and
continued so for upwards of forty days. During this period Mr. Lithgow
was attended by a negro woman, a slave, who found means to furnish him
with refreshments still more amply than the Turk, being conversant in the
house and family. She brought him every day some victuals, and with it
some wine in a bottle.
The time was now so far elapsed, and the horrid situation so truly
loathsome, that Mr. Lithgow waited with anxious expectation for the day,
which, by putting an end to his life, would also end his torments. But his
melancholy expectations were, by the interposition of Providence, happily
rendered abortive, and his deliverance obtained from the following
circumstances.
While the governor was relating this tragical tale, a Flemish youth (servant
to the Spanish gentleman) who waited at the table, was struck with
amazement and pity at the sufferings of the stranger described. On his
return to his master's lodgings he began to revolve in his mind what he had
heard, which made such an impression on him that he could not rest in his
bed. In the short slumbers he had, his imagination painted to him the person
described, on the rack, and burning in the fire. In this anxiety he passed the
night; and when the morning came, without disclosing his intentions to any
person whatever, he went into the town, and enquired for an English factor.
He was directed to the house of a Mr. Wild, to whom he related the whole
of what he had heard pass, the preceding evening, between his master and
the governor; but could not tell Mr. Lithgow's name. Mr. Wild, however,
conjectured it was him, by the servant's remembering the circumstance of
his being a traveller, and his having had some acquaintance with him.
On the departure of the Flemish servant, Mr. Wild immediately sent for the
other English factors, to whom he related all the particulars relative to their
unfortunate countryman. After a short consultation it was agreed, that an
information of the whole affair should be sent, by express, to Sir Walter
Aston, the English ambassador to the king of Spain, then at Madrid. This
was accordingly done, and the ambassador having presented a memorial to
the king and council of Spain, he obtained an order for Mr. Lithgow's
enlargement, and his delivery to the English factory. This order was
directed to the governor of Malaga; and was received with great dislike and
surprise by the whole assembly of the bloody inquisition.
Mr. Lithgow was released from his confinement on the eve of Easter
Sunday, when he was carried from his dungeon on the back of the slave
who had attended him, to the house of one Mr. Bosbich, where all proper
comforts were given him. It fortunately happened, that there was at this
time a squadron of English ships in the road, commanded by Sir Richard
Hawkins, who being informed of the past sufferings and present situation
of Mr. Lithgow, came the next day ashore, with a proper guard, and
CHAPTER V. 153
Before his departure from the Spanish coast, Sir Richard Hawkins
demanded the delivery of his papers, money, books, &c. but could not
obtain any satisfactory answer on that head.
After lying twelve days in the road, the ship weighed anchor, and in about
two months arrived safe at Deptford. The next morning, Mr. Lithgow was
carried on a feather bed to Theobalds, in Hertfordshire, where at that time
was the king and royal family. His majesty happened to be that day
engaged in hunting, but on his return in the evening, Mr. Lithgow was
presented to him, and related the particulars of his sufferings, and his happy
delivery. The king was so affected at the narrative, that he expressed the
deepest concern, and gave orders that he should be sent to Bath, and his
wants properly supplied from his royal munificence. By these means, under
God, after some time, Mr. Lithgow was restored, from the most wretched
spectacle, to a great share of health and strength; but he lost the use of his
left arm, and several of the smaller bones were so crushed and broken, as to
be ever after rendered useless.
CHAPTER V. 154
Notwithstanding every effort was used, Mr. Lithgow could never obtain
any part of his money or effects, though his majesty and the ministers of
state, interested themselves in his behalf. Gondamore, the Spanish
ambassador, indeed, promised that all his effects should be restored, with
the addition of £1000 English money, as some atonement for the tortures he
had undergone, which last was to be paid him by the governor of Malaga.
These engagements, however, were but mere promises; and though the king
was a kind of guarantee for the well performance of them, the cunning
Spaniard found means to elude the same. He had, indeed, too great a share
of influence in the English council during the time of that pacific reign,
when England suffered herself to be bullied into slavish compliance by
most of the states and kings in Europe.
We shall conclude this chapter with the subjoined extract from the New
Interpretation of the Apocalypse by the Rev. George Croly.
In our fortunate country, the power of the Romish church has so long
perished, that we find some difficulty in conceiving the nature, and still
more in believing the tyranny of its dominion. The influence of the monks
and the murders of the inquisition have passed into a nursery tale; and we
turn with a generous, yet rash and most unjustifiable scepticism from the
history of Romish authority.
In the closest imitation of Rome, this spiritual power had fiercely assumed
the temporal sword; the inquisition was army, revenues, and throne in one.
With the racks and fires of a tribunal worthy of the gulf of darkness and
guilt from which it rose, the Dominicans bore popery in triumph through
christendom, crushing every vestige of religion under the wheels of its
colossal idol. The subjugation of the Albigenses in 1229 had scattered the
church; the shock of the great military masses was past; a subtler and more
active force was required to destroy the wandering people of God; and the
inquisition multiplied itself for the work of death. This terrible tribunal set
every principle, and even every form of justice at defiance. Secrecy, that
confounds innocence with guilt, was the spirit of its whole proceeding. All
its steps were in darkness. The suspected revolter from popery was seized
in secret, tried in secret, never suffered to see the face of accuser, witness,
advocate, or friend, was kept unacquainted with the charge, was urged to
criminate himself; if tardy, was compelled to this self-murder by the rack; if
terrified, was only the more speedily murdered for the sport of the
multitude. From the hour of his seizure he never saw the face of day, until
he was brought out as a public show, a loyal and festal sacrifice, to do
honor to the entrance of some travelling viceroy, some new married
princess, or, on more fortunate occasions, to the presence of the sovereign.
The dungeons were then drained, the human wreck of the torture and
scourge were gathered out of darkness, groups of misery and exhaustion
with wasted forms and broken limbs, and countenances subdued by pain
and famine into idiotism, and despair, and madness; to feed the fires round
which the Dominicans were chanting the glories of popery, and exulting in
the destruction of the body for the good of the soul!
mutual communion, which still make them the lords of commerce, had
acquired the chief wealth of the country. The close of the Moorish war in
the 15th century had left the Spanish monarch at leisure for extortion; and
he grasped at the Jewish gains in the spirit of a robber, as he pursued his
plunder with the cruelty of a barbarian. The inquisition was the great
machine, the comprehensive torturer, ready to squeeze out alike the heart
and the gold. In 1481, an edict was issued against the Jews; before the end
of the year, in the single diocess of Cadiz, two thousand Jews were burnt
alive! The fall of the kingdom of Grenada, in 1492, threw the whole of the
Spanish Moors into the hands of the king. They were cast into the same
furnace of plunder and torture. Desperate rebellions followed; they were
defeated and, in 1609, were finally exiled. "In the space of one hundred and
twenty nine years, the inquisition deprived Spain of three millions of
inhabitants."
On the death of Leo X. in 1521, Adrian, the inquisitor general was elected
pope. He had laid the foundation of his papal celebrity in Spain. "It appears,
according to the most moderate calculation, that during the five years of the
ministry of Adrian, 24,025 persons were condemned by the inquisition, of
whom one thousand six hundred and twenty were burned alive."
It is the constant sophism of those who would cast christianity bound hand
and foot at the mercy of her enemies, that the pope desires to exercise no
interference in the internal concerns of kingdoms; that, if he had the desire,
he has not the power; and that, if he possessed the power, he would be
resisted by the whole body of the national clergy. For the exposure of this
traitorous delusion, we are to look to the times, when it was the will of
popery to put forth its strength; not to the present, when it is its will to lull
us into a belief of its consistency with the constitution, in defiance of
common sense, common experience, the spirit of British law, and the loud
warnings of insulted and hazarded religion.
Such was the inquisition, declared by the Spirit of God to be at once the
offspring and the image of the popedom. To feel the force of the parentage,
we must look to the time. In the thirteenth century, the popedom was at the
summit of mortal dominion; it was independent of all kingdoms; it ruled
with a rank of influence never before or since possessed by a human
sceptre; it was the acknowledged sovereign of body and soul; to all earthly
intents its power was immeasurable for good or evil. It might have spread
literature, peace, freedom, and christianity to the ends of Europe, or the
world. But its nature was hostile; its fuller triumph only disclosed its fuller
evil; and, to the shame of human reason, and the terror and suffering of
human virtue, Rome, in the hour of its consummate grandeur, teemed with
the monstrous and horrid birth of the INQUISITION!
CHAPTER VI. 158
CHAPTER VI.
3. The source of the various errors which have spread themselves over
other countries, deluded the minds of thousands, and diffused the clouds of
superstition and bigotry over the human understanding.
In the 12th century, the first persecutions under the papacy began in Italy,
at the time that Adrian, an Englishman, was pope, being occasioned by the
following circumstances:
Adrian now laid the city of Rome under an interdict, which caused the
whole body of clergy to interpose; and, at length, persuaded the senators
and people to give up the point, and suffer Arnold to be banished. This
being agreed to, he received the sentence of exile, and retired to Germany,
where he continued to preach against the pope, and to expose the gross
errors of the church of Rome.
Adrian, on this account, thirsted for his blood, and made several attempts to
get him into his hands; but Arnold, for a long time, avoided every snare laid
for him. At length, Frederic Barbarossa arriving at the imperial dignity,
requested that the pope would crown him with his own hand. This Adrian
complied with, and at the same time asked a favour of the emperor, which
was, to put Arnold into his hands. The emperor very readily delivered up
the unfortunate preacher, who soon fell a martyr to Adrian's vengeance,
being hanged, and his body burnt to ashes, at Apulia. The same fate
attended several of his old friends and companions.
that he renounced his faith, and obtained his release. But he was no sooner
free from confinement, than his mind felt the heaviest of chains; the weight
of a guilty conscience. His horrors were so great, that he found them
insupportable, till he had returned from his apostacy, and declared himself
fully convinced of the errors of the church of Rome. To make amends for
his falling off, he now openly and strenuously did all he could to make
converts to protestantism, and was pretty successful in his endeavours.
These proceedings occasioned his second imprisonment, but he had his life
offered him if he would recant again. This proposal he rejected with
disdain, saying, that he scorned life upon such terms. Being asked why he
would obstinately persist in his opinions and leave his wife and children in
distress, he replied, I shall not leave them in distress; I have recommended
them to the care of an excellent trustee. What trustee? said the person who
had asked the question, with some surprise: to which Faninus answered,
Jesus Christ is the trustee I mean, and I think I could not commit them to
the care of a better. On the day of execution he appeared remarkably
cheerful, which one observing, said, it is strange you should appear so
merry upon such an occasion, when Jesus Christ himself, just before his
death, was in such agonies, that he sweated blood and water. To which
Faninus replied; Christ sustained all manner of pangs and conflicts, with
hell and death, on our accounts; and thus, by his sufferings, freed those who
really believe in him from the fear of them. He was then strangled, and his
body being burnt to ashes, they were scattered about by the wind.
A vast concourse of people attended the next day, but just as Dominicus
was beginning his sermon, a civil magistrate went up to the pulpit, and took
him into custody. He readily submitted; but as he went along with the
magistrate, made use of this expression: I wonder the devil hath let me
alone so long. When he was brought to examination, this question was put
CHAPTER VI. 161
Soon after this gentleman's death, a great number of protestants were put to
death in various parts of Italy, on account of their faith, giving a sure proof
of their sincerity in their martyrdoms.
The Calabrian lords were highly pleased with their new subjects and
tenants, as they were honest, quiet, and industrious; but the priests of the
CHAPTER VI. 162
country exhibited several negative complaints against them; for not being
able to accuse them of anything bad which they did do, they founded
accusations on what they did not do, and charged them,
The Calabrian lords, however, quieted the priests, by telling them that these
people were extremely harmless; that they gave no offence to the Roman
catholics, and cheerfully paid the tithes to the priests, whose revenues were
considerably increased by their coming into the country, and who, of
consequence, ought to be the last persons to complain of them.
Things went on tolerably well after this for a few years, during which the
Waldenses formed themselves into two corporate towns, annexing several
villages to the jurisdiction of them. At length, they sent to Geneva for two
clergymen; one to preach in each town, as they determined to make a
public profession of their faith. Intelligence of this affair being carried to
the pope, Pius the Fourth, he determined to exterminate them from
Calabria.
To this end he sent cardinal Alexandrino, a man of very violent temper and
a furious bigot, together with two monks, to Calabria, where they were to
act as inquisitors. These authorized persons came to St. Xist, one of the
towns built by the Waldenses, and having assembled the people told them,
CHAPTER VI. 163
The people of St. Xist, instead of attending mass, fled into the woods, with
their families, and thus disappointed the cardinal and his coadjutors. The
cardinal then proceeded to La Garde, the other town belonging to the
Waldenses, where, not to be served as he had been at St. Xist, he ordered
the gates to be locked, and all avenues guarded. The same proposals were
then made to the inhabitants of La Garde, as had previously been offered to
those of St. Xist, but with this additional piece of artifice: the cardinal
assured them that the inhabitants of St. Xist had immediately come into his
proposals, and agreed that the pope should appoint them preachers. This
falsehood succeeded; for the people of La Garde, thinking what the cardinal
had told them to be the truth, said they would exactly follow the example of
their brethren at St. Xist.
The cardinal having gained his point by deluding the people of one town,
sent for troops of soldiers, with a view to murder those of the other. He,
accordingly, despatched the soldiers into the woods, to hunt down the
inhabitants of St. Xist like wild beasts, and gave them strict orders to spare
neither age nor sex, but to kill all they came near. The troops entered the
woods, and many fell a prey to their ferocity, before the Waldenses were
properly apprised of their design. At length, however, they determined to
sell their lives as dear as possible, when several conflicts happened, in
which the half-armed Waldenses performed prodigies of valour, and many
were slain on both sides. The greatest part of the troops being killed in the
different rencontres, the rest were compelled to retreat, which so enraged
the cardinal, that he wrote to the viceroy of Naples for reinforcements.
It was offered, that if they should embrace the Roman catholic persuasion,
themselves and families should not be injured, but their houses and
properties should be restored, and none would be permitted to molest them;
but, on the contrary, if they refused this mercy, (as it was termed) the
utmost extremities would be used, and the most cruel deaths the certain
consequence of their non-compliance.
Notwithstanding the promises on one side, and menaces on the other, these
worthy people unanimously refused to renounce their religion, or embrace
the errors of popery. This exasperated the cardinal and viceroy so much,
that 30 of them were ordered to be put immediately to the rack, as a terror
to the rest.
Those who were put to the rack were treated with such severity, that several
died under the tortures; one Charlin, in particular, was so cruelly used, that
his belly burst, his bowels came out, and he expired in the greatest agonies.
These barbarities, however, did not answer the purposes for which they
were intended; for those who remained alive after the rack, and those who
CHAPTER VI. 165
had not felt the rack, remained equally constant in their faith, and boldly
declared, that no tortures of body, or terrors of mind, should ever induce
them to renounce their God, or worship images.
Several were then, by the cardinal's order, stripped stark naked, and
whipped to death with iron rods; and some were hacked to pieces with large
knives; others were thrown down from the top of a large tower, and many
were covered over with pitch, and burnt alive.
One of the monks who attended the cardinal, being naturally of a savage
and cruel disposition, requested of him that he might shed some of the
blood of these poor people with his own hands; when his request being
granted, the barbarous man took a large sharp knife, and cut the throats of
fourscore men, women, and children, with as little remorse as a butcher
would have killed so many sheep. Every one of these bodies were then
ordered to be quartered, the quarters placed upon stakes, and then fixed in
different parts of the country, within a circuit of 30 miles.
The four principal men of La Garde were hanged, and the clergyman was
thrown from the top of his church steeple. He was terribly mangled, but not
quite killed by the fall; at which time the viceroy passing by, said, is the
dog yet living? Take him up, and give him to the hogs, when, brutal as this
sentence may appear, it was executed accordingly.
Sixty women were racked so violently, that the cords pierced their arms and
legs quite to the bone; when, being remanded to prison, their wounds
mortified, and they died in the most miserable manner. Many others were
put to death by various cruel means; and if any Roman catholic, more
compassionate than the rest, interceded for any of the reformed, he was
immediately apprehended, and shared the same fate as a favourer of
heretics.
barbarous rigour, that there was not a single person of the reformed religion
left living in all Calabria.
1. That they did not believe in the doctrines of the church of Rome.
5. That they did not believe in purgatory, or pay money to get the souls of
their friends out of it.
At Turin, one of the reformed had his bowels torn out, and put in a basin
before his face, where they remained in his view till he expired. At Revel,
Catelin Girard being at the stake, desired the executioner to give him a
stone; which he refused, thinking that he meant to throw it at somebody;
but Girard assuring him that he had no such design, the executioner
complied; when Girard, looking earnestly at the stone, said, When it is in
the power of a man to eat and digest this solid stone, the religion for which
I am about to suffer shall have an end, and not before. He then threw the
stone on the ground, and submitted cheerfully to the flames. A great many
more of the reformed were oppressed, or put to death, by various means, till
the patience of the Waldenses being tired out, they flew to arms in their
own defence, and formed themselves into regular bodies.
The priests, finding the resolution of the duke, did all they could to
prejudice his mind against the Waldenses; but the duke told them, that
though he was unacquainted with the religious tenets of these people, yet he
had always found them quiet, faithful, and obedient, and therefore he
determined they should be no longer persecuted.
The priests now had recourse to the most palpable and absurd falsehoods:
they assured the duke that he was mistaken in the Waldenses for they were
a wicked set of people, and highly addicted to intemperance, uncleanness,
blasphemy, adultery, incest, and many other abominable crimes; and that
they were even monsters in nature, for their children were born with black
throats, with four rows of teeth, an bodies all over hairy.
The duke was not so devoid of common sense as to give credit to what the
priests said, though they affirmed in the most solemn manner the truth of
their assertions. He, however, sent twelve very learned and sensible
gentlemen into the Piedmontese valleys, to examine into the real characters
of the inhabitants.
These gentlemen, after travelling through all their towns and villages, and
conversing with people of every rank among the Waldenses returned to the
duke, and gave him the most favourable account of those people; affirming,
before the faces of the priests who villified them, that they were harmless,
inoffensive, loyal, friendly, industrious, and pious: that they abhorred the
crimes of which they were accused; and that, should an individual, through
his depravity, fall into any of those crimes, he would, by their laws, be
punished in the most exemplary manner. With respect to the children, the
gentlemen said, the priests had told the most gross and ridiculous falsities,
for they were neither born with black throats, teeth in their mouths, nor hair
on their bodies, but were as fine children as could be seen. "And to
convince your highness of what we have said, (continued one of the
CHAPTER VI. 169
The duke, after accepting the apology of the twelve delegates, conversing
with the women, and examining the children, graciously dismissed them.
He then commanded the priests, who had attempted to mislead him,
immediately to leave the court; and gave strict orders, that the persecution
should cease throughout his dominions.
The Waldenses had enjoyed peace many years, when Philip, the seventh
duke of Savoy, died, and his successor happened to be a very bigoted
papist. About the same time, some of the principal Waldenses proposed,
that their clergy should preach in public, that every one might know the
purity of their doctrines: for hitherto they had preached only in private, and
to such congregations as they well knew to consist of none but persons of
the reformed religion.
On hearing these proceedings, the new duke was greatly exasperated, and
sent a considerable body of troops into the valleys, swearing that if the
people would not change their religion, he would have them flayed alive.
The commander of the troops soon found the impracticability of
conquering them with the number of men he had with him, he, therefore,
sent word to the duke, that the idea of subjugating the Waldenses, with so
small a force, was ridiculous; that those people were better acquainted with
the country than any that were with him; that they had secured all the
passes, were well armed, and resolutely determined to defend themselves;
and, with respect to flaying them alive, he said, that every skin belonging to
those people would cost him the lives of a dozen of his subjects.
places of security; and these, when taken, were either flayed alive, or burnt.
The Waldenses had hitherto only had the new Testament and a few books
of the Old, in the Waldensian tongue; but they determined now to have the
sacred writings complete in their own language. They, therefore, employed
a Swiss printer to furnish them with a complete edition of the Old and New
Testaments in the Waldensian tongue, which he did for the consideration of
fifteen hundred crowns of gold, paid him by those pious people.
Pope Paul the third, a bigoted papist, ascending the pontifical chair,
immediately solicited the parliament of Turin to persecute the Waldenses,
as the most pernicious of all heretics.
1. That if the Waldenses would come to the bosom of the church of Rome,
and embrace the Roman catholic religion, they should enjoy their houses,
properties and lands, and live with their families, without the least
molestation.
2. That to prove their obedience, they should send twelve of their principal
persons, with all their ministers and schoolmasters, to Turin, to be dealt
with at discretion.
CHAPTER VI. 171
3. That the pope, the king of France, and the duke of Savoy, approved of,
and authorized the proceedings of the parliament of Turin, upon this
occasion.
2. That they would never consent to commit their best and most respectable
friends, to the custody and discretion of their worst and most inveterate
enemies.
3. That they valued the approbation of the King of kings, who reigns in
heaven, more than any temporal authority.
could not spare any troops at present to act in Piedmont. The members of
the parliament were greatly vexed at this disappointment, and the
persecution gradually ceased, for as they could only put to death such of the
reformed as they caught by chance, and as the Waldenses daily grew more
cautious, their cruelty was obliged to subside, for want of objects on whom
to exercise it.
After the Waldenses had enjoyed a few years tranquility, they were again
disturbed by the following means: the pope's nuncio coming to Turin to the
duke of Savoy upon business, told that prince, he was astonished he had not
yet either rooted out the Waldenses from the valleys of Piedmont entirely,
or compelled them to enter into the bosom of the church of Rome. That he
could not help looking upon such conduct with a suspicious eye, and that
he really thought him a favourer of those heretics, and should report the
affair accordingly to his holiness the pope.
These who fled had their goods plundered, and their houses burnt to the
ground: they were particularly cruel when they caught a minister or a
schoolmaster, whom they put to such exquisite tortures, as are almost
incredible to conceive. If any whom they took seemed wavering in their
faith, they did not put them to death, but sent them to the galleys, to be
made converts by dint of hardships.
The most cruel persecutors, upon this occasion, that attended the duke,
were three in number, viz. 1. Thomas Incomel, an apostate, for he was
CHAPTER VI. 173
brought up in the reformed religion, but renounced his faith, embraced the
errors of popery, and turned monk. He was a great libertine, given to
unnatural crimes, and sordidly solicitous for plunder of the Waldenses. 2.
Corbis, a man of a very ferocious and cruel nature, whose business was to
examine the prisoners.--3. The provost of justice, who was very anxious for
the execution of the Waldenses, as every execution put money in his
pocket.
These three persons were unmerciful to the last degree; and wherever they
came, the blood of the innocent was sure to flow. Exclusive of the cruelties
exercised by the duke, by these three persons, and the army, in their
different marches, many local barbarities were committed. At Pignerol, a
town in the valleys, was a monastery, the monks of which, finding they
might injure the reformed with impunity, began to plunder the houses and
pull down the churches of the Waldenses. Not meeting with any opposition,
they seized upon the persons of those unhappy people, murdering the men,
confining the women, and putting the children to Roman catholic nurses.
The Roman catholic inhabitants of the valley in St. Martin, likewise, did all
they could to torment the neighbouring Waldenses: they destroyed their
churches, burnt their houses, seized their properties, stole their cattle,
converted their lands to their own use, committed their ministers to the
flames, and drove the Waldenses to the woods, where they had nothing to
subsist on but wild fruits, roots, the bark of trees, &c.
As the troops of ruffians, belonging to the monks, did great mischief about
the town of St. Germain, murdering and plundering many of the
inhabitants, the reformed of Lucerne and Angrogne, sent some bands of
armed men to the assistance of their brethren of St. Germain. These bodies
of armed men frequently attacked the ruffians, and often put them to the
rout, which so terrified the monks, that they left the monastery of Pignerol
for some time, till they could procure a body of regular troops to guard
them.
The army now began to plunder and burn the towns and villages wherever
they came; but the troops could not force the passes to the Alps, which
were gallantly defended by the Waldenses, who always repulsed their
enemies: but if any fell into the hands of the troops, they were sure to be
treated with the most barbarous severity.
A soldier having caught one of the Waldenses, bit his right ear off, saying, I
will carry this member of that wicked heretic with me into my own country,
and preserve it as a rarity. He then stabbed the man and threw him into a
ditch.
The duke of Savoy was now tired of the war; it had cost him great fatigue
and anxiety of mind, a vast number of men, and very considerable sums of
CHAPTER VI. 176
money. It had been much more tedious and bloody than he expected, as
well as more expensive than he could at first have imagined, for he thought
the plunder would have discharged the expenses of the expedition; but in
this he was mistaken, for the pope's nuncio, the bishops, monks, and other
ecclesiastics, who attended the army and encouraged the war, sunk the
greatest part of the wealth that was taken under various pretences. For these
reasons, and the death of his duchess, of which he had just received
intelligence, and fearing that the Waldenses, by the treaties they had
entered into, would become more powerful than ever, he determined to
return to Turin with his army, and to make peace with the Waldenses.
While the state of Venice was free from inquisitors, a great number of
protestants fixed their residence there, and many converts were made by the
purity of the doctrines they professed, and the inoffensiveness of the
conversation they used.
The pope being informed of the great increase of protestantism, in the year
1512 sent inquisitors to Venice to make an inquiry into the matter, and
apprehend such as they might deem obnoxious persons. Hence a severe
persecution began, and many worthy persons were martyred for serving
God with purity, and scorning the trappings of idolatry.
CHAPTER VI. 177
Various were the modes by which the protestants were deprived of life; but
one particular method, which was first invented upon this occasion, we
shall describe; as soon as sentence was passed, the prisoner had an iron
chain which ran through a great stone fastened to his body. He was then
laid flat upon a plank, with his face upwards, and rowed between two boats
to a certain distance at sea, when the two boats separated, and he was sunk
to the bottom by the weight of the stone.
If any denied the jurisdiction of the inquisitors at Venice, they were sent to
Rome, where, being committed purposely to damp prisons, and never
called to a hearing, their flesh mortified, and they died miserably in jail.
What Ricetti had been told concerning the apostacy of Francis Sega, was
absolutely false, for he had never offered to recant, but steadfastly persisted
in his faith, and was executed, a few days after Ricetti, in the very same
manner.
CHAPTER VI. 178
On his third examination, they asked him if he would recant his errors! To
which he answered, that the doctrines he maintained were not erroneous,
being purely the same as those which Christ and his apostles had taught,
and which were handed down to us in the sacred writings. The inquisitors
then sentenced him to be drowned, which was executed in the manner
already described. He went to meet death with the utmost serenity, seemed
to wish for dissolution, and declaring, that the prolongation of his life did
but tend to retard that real happiness which could only be expected in the
world to come.
He was then sent to Ferrara, where, after pursuing his studies six years
longer, he was made theological reader in the university of that city. He
now, unhappily, exerted his great talents to disguise the gospel truths, and
to varnish over the errors of the church of Rome. After some years
CHAPTER VI. 179
At Rome he begged to have a public trial, but that the pope absolutely
denied him, and commanded him to give an account of his opinions in
writing, which he did under the following heads:
All these he confirmed from scripture authority. The pope, upon this
occasion, for political reasons, spared him for the present, but soon after
had him apprehended, and put to death; he being first hanged, and his body
burnt to ashes, A. D. 1553.
CHAPTER VI. 180
A. D. 1560, pope Pius the Fourth, ordered all the protestants to be severely
persecuted throughout the Italian states, when great numbers of every age,
sex, and condition, suffered martyrdom. Concerning the cruelties practised
upon this occasion, a learned and humane Roman catholic thus spoke of
them, in a letter to a noble lord:
went in among them, picked out one from among the rest, blindfolded him,
led him out to an open place before the prison, and cut his throat with the
greatest composure. He then calmly walked into the prison again, bloody as
he was, and with the knife in his hand selected another, and despatched him
in the same manner; and this, my lord, he repeated till the whole number
were put to death. I leave it to your lordship's feelings to judge of my
sensations upon this occasion; my tears now wash the paper upon which I
give you the recital. Another thing I must mention--the patience with which
they met death: they seemed all resignation and piety, fervently praying to
God, and cheerfully encountering their fate. I cannot reflect without
shuddering, how the executioner held the bloody knife between his teeth;
what a dreadful figure he appeared, all covered with blood, and with what
unconcern he executed his barbarous office."
When the affair was represented to the pope, he was so greatly exasperated
that he ordered the prisoner to be burnt immediately; but a cardinal
dissuaded him from this hasty sentence, saying, it was better to punish him
by slow degrees, and to torture him, that they might find out if he had been
instigated by any particular person to commit so atrocious an act.
This being approved, he was tortured with the most exemplary severity,
notwithstanding which they could only get these words from him, It was
the will of God that I should do as I did.
2. That he should wear the image of the devil upon his head.
When he came to the church door, where he trampled on the host, the
hangman cut off his right hand, and fixed it on a pole. Then two tormentors,
with flaming torches, scorched and burnt his flesh all the rest of the way. At
the place of execution he kissed the chains that were to bind him to the
stake. A monk presenting the figure of a saint to him, he struck it aside, and
then being chained to the stake, fire was put to the fagots, and he was soon
burnt to ashes.
A little after the last mentioned execution, a venerable old man, who had
long been a prisoner in the inquisition, was condemned to be burnt, and
brought out for execution. When he was fastened to the stake, a priest held
a crucifix to him, on which he said "If you do not take that idol from my
sight, you will constrain me to spit upon it." The priest rebuked him for this
with great severity; but he bade him remember the first and second
commandments, and refrain from idolatry, as God himself had commanded.
He was then gagged, that he should not speak any more, and fire being put
to the fagots, he suffered martyrdom in the flames.
CHAPTER VI. 183
Soon after the marquisate fell into the possession of the duke of Savoy,
who sent circular letters to all the towns and villages, that he expected the
people should all conform to go to mass.
The duke, after reading the letter, did not interrupt the protestants for some
time; but, at length, he sent them word, that they must either conform to the
mass, or leave his dominions in fifteen days. The protestants, upon this
unexpected edict, sent a deputy to the duke to obtain its revocation, or at
least to have it moderated. But their remonstrances were in vain, and they
were given to understand that the edict was absolute.
Pope Clement the eighth, sent missionaries into the valleys of Piedmont, to
induce the protestants to renounce their religion; and these missionaries
having erected monasteries in several parts of the valleys, became
exceedingly troublesome to those of the reformed, where the monasteries
CHAPTER VI. 184
appeared, not only as fortresses to curb, but as sanctuaries for all such to fly
to, as had any ways injured them.
The missionaries did all they could to get the books of the protestants into
their hands, in order to burn them; when the protestants doing their utmost
endeavours to conceal their books, the missionaries wrote to the duke of
Savoy, who, for the heinous crime of not surrendering their bibles,
prayer-books, and religious treatises, sent a number of troops to be
quartered on them. These military gentry did great mischief in the houses of
the protestants, and destroyed such quantities of provisions, that many
families were thereby ruined.
the protestant churches, and the decrees which had been, from time to time,
made in favour of the protestants. But the investigation of these things was
carried on with the most manifest partiality; old charters were wrested to a
wrong sense, and sophistry was used to pervert the meaning of every thing,
which tended to favour the reformed.
As if these severities were not sufficient, the duke, soon after, published
another edict, in which he strictly commanded, that no protestant should act
as a schoolmaster, or tutor, either in public or private, or dare to teach any
art, science, or language, directly or indirectly, to persons of any persuasion
whatever.
2. That the church livings may be all under one mode of government.
4. In honour of all the saints, and of the ceremonies of the church of Rome.
This severe edict was followed by a most cruel order, published on January
25, A. D. 1655, under the duke's sanction, by Andrew Gastaldo, doctor of
civil laws. This order set forth, "That every head of a family, with the
individuals of that family, of the reformed religion, of what rank, degree, or
condition soevor, none excepted inhabiting and possessing estates in
Lucerne, St. Giovanni, Bibiana, Campiglione, St. Secondo, Lucernetta, La
Torre, Fenile, and Bricherassio, should, within three days after the
publication thereof, withdraw and depart, and be withdrawn out of the said
places, and translated into the places and limits tolerated by his highness
during his pleasure; particularly Bobbio, Angrogna, Villaro, Rorata, and the
county of Bonetti.
"And all this to be done on pain of death, and confiscation of house and
goods, unless within the limited time they turned Roman catholics."
The papists, however, drove the people from their habitations at the time
appointed, without even suffering them to have sufficient clothes to cover
them; and many perished in the mountains through the severity of the
weather, or for want of food. Some, however, who remained behind after
the decree was published, met with the severest treatment, being murdered
by the popish inhabitants, or shot by the troops who were quartered in the
CHAPTER VI. 187
took place. Several were killed in the fray, the greater part of whom were
those concerned in the horrid massacre of the woman, and who had
practised such an inhuman deception on their companions.
Some of the soldiers seized a man of Thrassiniere, and ran the points of
their swords through his ears, and through his feet. They then tore off the
nails of his fingers and toes with red-hot pincers, tied him to the tail of an
ass, and dragged him about the streets; and, finally fastened a cord round
his head, which they twisted with a stick in so violent a manner as to wring
it from his body.
Peter Symonds, a protestant, of about eighty years of age, was tied neck
and heels, and then thrown down a precipice. In the fall the branch of a tree
caught hold of the ropes that fastened him, and suspended him in the
midway, so that he languished for several days, and at length miserably
perished of hunger.
Esay Garcino, refusing to renounce his religion, was cut into small pieces;
the soldiers, in ridicule, saying, they had minced him. A woman, named
Armand, had every limb separated from each other, and then the respective
parts were hung upon a hedge. Two old women were ripped open, and then
left in the fields upon the snow where they perished; and a very old woman,
who was deformed, had her nose and hands cut off, and was left, to bleed to
death in that manner.
A great number of men, women, and children, were flung from the rocks,
and dashed to pieces. Magdalen Bertino, a protestant woman of La Torre,
was stripped stark naked, her head tied between her legs, and thrown down
one of the precipices; and Mary Raymondet, of the same town, had the
flesh sliced from her bones till she expired.
Magdalen Pilot, of Villaro, was cut to pieces in the cave of Castolus; Ann
Charboniere had one end of a stake thrust up her body; and the other being
fixed in the ground, she was left in that manner to perish, and Jacob Perrin
the elder, of the church of Villaro, and David, his brother, were flayed
alive.
CHAPTER VI. 189
Giovanni Pelanchion, for refusing to turn papist, was tied by one leg to the
tail of a mule, and dragged through the streets of Lucerne, amidst the
acclamations of an inhuman mob, who kept stoning him, and crying out, He
is possessed with the devil, so that, neither stoning, nor dragging him
through the streets, will kill him, for the devil keeps him alive. They then
took him to the river side, chopped off his head, and left that and his body
unburied, upon the bank of the stream.
Jacob Michelino, chief elder of the church of Bobbio, and several other
protestants, were hung up by means of hooks fixed in their bellies and left
to expire in the most excruciating tortures.
CHAPTER VI. 190
Seven persons, viz. Daniel Seleagio and his wife, Giovanni Durant,
Lodwich Durant, Bartholomew Durant, Daniel Revel, and Paul Reynaud,
had their mouths stuffed with gunpowder, which being set fire to, their
heads were blown to pieces.
Paul Garnier, a very pious protestant, had his eyes put out, was then flayed
alive, and being divided into four parts, his quarters were placed on four of
the principal houses of Lucerne. He bore all his sufferings with the most
exemplary patience, praised God as long as he could speak, and plainly
evinced, what confidence and resignation a good conscience can inspire.
Paul Giles, on attempting to run away from some soldiers, was shot in the
neck: they then slit his nose, sliced his chin, stabbed him, and gave his
carcase to the dogs.
CHAPTER VI. 191
Some of the Irish troops having taken eleven men of Garcigliana prisoners,
they made a furnace red hot, and forced them to push each other in till they
came to the last man, whom they pushed in themselves.
Michael Gonet, a man of 90, was burnt to death; Baptista Oudri, another
old man, was stabbed; and Bartholomew Frasche had holes made in his
heels, through which ropes being put, he was dragged by them to the jail,
where his wounds mortified and killed him.
The son and daughter of a counsellor of Giovanni were rolled down a steep
hill together, and suffered to perish in a deep pit at the bottom. A
tradesman's family, viz: himself, his wife, and an infant in her arms, were
cast from a rock, and dashed to pieces; and Joseph Chairet, and Paul
Carniero, were flayed alive.
Cypriania Bustia, being asked if he would renounce his religion and turn
Roman catholic, replied, I would rather renounce life, or turn dog; to which
a priest answered, For that expression you shall both renounce life, and be
given to the dogs. They, accordingly, dragged him to prison, where he
continued a considerable time without food, till he was famished; after
which they threw his corpse into the street before the prison, and it was
devoured by dogs in the most shocking manner.
Margaret Saretta was stoned to death, and then thrown into the river;
Antonio Bartina had his head cleft asunder; and Joseph Pont was cut
through the middle of his body.
Daniel Maria, and his whole family, being ill of a fever, several papist
ruffians broke into his house, telling him they were practical physicians,
and would give them all present ease, which they did by knocking the
whole family on the head.
CHAPTER VI. 192
Three infant children of a protestant, named Peter Fine, were covered with
snow, and stifled; an elderly widow, named Judith, was beheaded, and a
beautiful young woman was stripped naked, and had a stake driven through
her body, of which she expired.
Lucy, the wife of Peter Besson, a woman far gone in her pregnancy, who
lived in one of the villages of the Piedmontese valleys, determined, if
possible, to escape from such dreadful scenes as every where surrounded
her: she, accordingly took two young children, one in each hand, and set off
towards the Alps. But on the third day of the journey she was taken in
labour among the mountains, and delivered of an infant, who perished
through the extreme inclemency of the weather, as did the two other
children; for all three were found dead by her, and herself just expiring, by
the person to whom she related the above particulars.
Francis Gros, the son of a clergyman, had his flesh slowly cut from his
body into small pieces, and put into a dish before him; two of his children
were minced before his sight; and his wife was fastened to a post, that she
might behold all these cruelties practised on her husband and offspring. The
tormentors, at length, being tired of exercising their cruelties, cut off the
heads of both husband and wife, and then gave the flesh of the whole
family to the dogs.
The sieur Thomas Margher fled to a cave, when the soldiers shut up the
mouth, and he perished with famine. Judith Revelin, with seven children,
were barbarously murdered in their beds; and a widow of near fourscore
years of age, was hewn to pieces by soldiers.
Jacob Roseno was ordered to pray to the saints, which he absolutely refused
to do: some of the soldiers beat him violently with bludgeons to make him
comply, but he still refusing, several of them fired at him and lodged a
great many balls in his body. As he was almost expiring, they cried to him,
Will you call upon the saints? Will you pray to the saints? To which he
answered, No! No! No! when one of the soldiers, with a broad sword, clove
his head asunder, and put an end to his sufferings in this world; for which
undoubtedly, he is gloriously rewarded in the next.
CHAPTER VI. 193
2. Transubstantiation.
3. Purgatory.
5. That masses said for the dead will release souls from purgatory.
M. Rambaut told the priests, that neither his religion, his understanding, nor
his conscience, would suffer him to subscribe to any of the articles, for the
following reasons:
1. That to believe the real presence in the host, is a shocking union of both
blasphemy and idolatry.
2. That to fancy the words of consecration perform what the papists call
transubstantiation, by converting the wafer and wine into the real and
identical body and blood of Christ, which was crucified, and which
afterward ascended into heaven, is too gross an absurdity for even a child to
believe, who was come to the least glimmering of reason; and that nothing
but the most blind superstition could make the Roman catholics put a
confidence in any thing so completely ridiculous.
CHAPTER VI. 195
3. That the doctrine of purgatory was more inconsistent and absurd than a
fairy tale.
4. That the pope's being infallible was an impossibility, and the pope
arrogantly laid claim to what could belong to God only, as a perfect being.
5. That saying masses for the dead was ridiculous, and only meant to keep
up a belief in the fable of purgatory, as the fate of all is finally decided, on
the departure of the soul from the body.
Anthony, the son of Samuel Catieris, a poor dumb lad who was extremely
inoffensive, was cut to pieces by a party of the troops; and soon after the
same ruffians entered the house of Peter Moniriat, and cut off the legs of
the whole family, leaving them to bleed to death, as they were unable to
assist themselves, or to help each other.
CHAPTER VI. 196
Daniel Benech being apprehended, had his nose slit, his ears cut off, and
was then divided into quarters, each quarter being hung upon a tree, and
Mary Monino, had her jaw bones broke and was then left to languish till
she was famished.
Mary Nigrino, and her daughter who was an idiot, were cut to pieces in the
woods, and their bodies left to be devoured by wild beasts: Susanna Bales,
a widow of Villaro, was immured till she perished through hunger; and
Susanna Calvio running away from some soldiers and hiding herself in a
barn, they set fire to the straw and burnt her.
Paul Armand was hacked to pieces; a child named Daniel Bertino was
burnt; Daniel Michialino had his tongue plucked out, and was left to perish
in that condition; and Andreo Bertino, a very old man, who was lame, was
mangled in a most shocking manner, and at length had his belly ripped
open, and his bowels carried about on the point of a halbert.
A young woman named Judith Mandon, for refusing to change her religion,
and embrace popery, was fastened to a stake, and sticks thrown at her from
a distance, in the very same manner as that barbarous custom which was
formerly practised on Shrove-Tuesday, of shying at rocks, as it was termed.
By this inhuman proceeding, the poor creature's limbs were beat and
mangled in a terrible manner, and her brains were at last dashed out by one
of the bludgeons.
David Paglia and Paul Genre, attempting to escape to the Alps, with each
his son, were pursued and overtaken by the soldiers in a large plain. Here
they hunted them for their diversion, goading them with their swords, and
making them run about till they dropped down with fatigue. When they
found that their spirits were quite exhausted, and that they could not afford
them any more barbarous sport by running, the soldiers hacked them to
pieces, and left their mangled bodies on the spot.
David Armand was ordered to lay his head down on a block, when a
soldier, with a large hammer, beat out his brains. David Baridona being
apprehended at Villaro, was carried to La Torre, where, refusing to
renounce his religion, he was tormented by means of brimstone matches
being tied between his fingers and toes, and set fire to; and afterward, by
having his flesh plucked off with red-hot pincers, till he expired; and
Giovanni Barolina, with his wife, were thrown into a pool of stagnant
water, and compelled, by means of pitchforks and stones, to duck down
CHAPTER VI. 198
A number of soldiers went to the house of Joseph Garniero, and before they
entered, fired in at the window, to give notice of their approach. A musket
ball entered one of Mrs. Garniero's breasts, as she was suckling an infant
with the other. On finding their intentions, she begged hard that they would
spare the life of the infant, which they promised to do, and sent it
immediately to a Roman catholic nurse. They then took the husband and
hanged him at his own door, and having shot the wife through the head,
they left her body weltering in its blood, and her husband hanging on the
gallows.
Isaiah Mondon, an elderly man, and a pious protestant, fled from the
merciless persecutors to a cleft in a rock, where he suffered the most
dreadful hardships; for, in the midst of the winter he was forced to lay on
the bare stone, without any covering; his food was the roots he could
scratch up near his miserable habitation; and the only way by which he
could procure drink, was to put snow in his mouth till it melted. Here,
however, some of the inhuman soldiers found him, and after having beaten
him unmercifully, they drove him towards Lucerne, goading him with the
points of their swords.--Being exceedingly weakened by his manner of
living, and his spirits exhausted by the blows he had received, he fell down
in the road. They again beat him to make him proceed: when on his knees,
he implored them to put him out of his misery, by despatching him. This
they at last agreed to do; and one of them stepping up to him shot him
through the head with a pistol, saying, there, heretic, take thy request.
Mary Revol, a worthy protestant, received a shot in her back, as she was
walking along the street. She dropped down with the wound, but recovering
sufficient strength, she raised herself upon her knees, and lifting her hands
towards heaven, prayed in a most fervent manner to the Almighty, when a
number of soldiers, who were near at hand, fired a whole volley of shot at
her, many of which took effect, and put an end to her miseries in an instant.
Giovanni Salvagiot, passing by a Roman catholic church, and not taking off
his hat, was followed by some of the congregation, who fell upon and
murdered him; and Jacob Barrel and his wife, having been taken prisoners
by the earl of St. Secondo, one of the duke of Savoy's officers, he delivered
them up to the soldiery, who cut off the woman's breasts, and the man's
nose, and then shot them both through the head.
As the work of blood grew slack in other places, the earl of Christople, one
of the duke of Savoy's officers, determined, if possible, to make himself
master of it; and, with that view, detached three hundred men to surprise it
secretly.
When the troops appeared, and had entered the defile, which was the only
place by which the town could be approached, the protestants kept up a
smart and well-directed fire against them, and still kept themselves
concealed behind bushes from the sight of the enemy. A great number of
the soldiers were killed, and the remainder receiving a continued fire, and
not seeing any to whom they might return it, thought proper to retreat.
The members of this little community then sent a memorial to the marquis
of Pianessa, one of the duke's general officers, setting forth, "That they
CHAPTER VI. 201
were sorry, upon any occasion, to be under the necessity of taking up arms;
but that the secret approach of a body of troops, without any reason
assigned, or any previous notice sent of the purpose of their coming, had
greatly alarmed them; that as it was their custom never to suffer any of the
military to enter their little community, they had repelled force by force,
and should do so again; but in all other respects, they professed themselves
dutiful, obedient, and loyal subjects to their sovereign, the duke of Savoy."
Yet, the very day after this plausible proclamation, and specious conduct,
the marquis sent 500 men to possess themselves of Roras, while the people,
as he thought, were lulled into perfect security by his specious behaviour.
Soon after, 700 chosen men were sent upon the expedition, who, in spite of
the fire from the protestants, forced the defile, entered Roras, and began to
murder every person they met with, without distinction of age or sex. The
protestant captain Gianavel, at the head of a small body, though he had lost
the defile, determined to dispute their passage through a fortified pass that
CHAPTER VI. 202
led to the richest and best part of the town. Here he was successful, by
keeping up a continual fire, and by means of his men being all complete
marksmen. The Roman catholic commander was greatly staggered at this
opposition, as he imagined that he had surmounted all difficulties. He,
however, did his endeavours to force the pass, but being able to bring up
only twelve men in front at a time, and the protestants being secured by a
breastwork, he found he should be baffled by the handful of men who
opposed him.
The marquis of Pianessa, finding that all his attempts were frustrated, and
that every artifice he used was only an alarm-signal to the inhabitants of
Roras, determined to act openly, and therefore proclaimed, that ample
rewards should be given to any one who would bear arms against the
obstinate heretics of Roras, as he called them; and that any officer who
would exterminate them should be rewarded in a princely manner.
Having completed his regiment, which consisted of 1000 men, he laid his
plan not to go by the defiles or the passes, but to attempt gaining the
summit of a rock, from whence he imagined he could pour his troops into
the town without much difficulty or opposition.
CHAPTER VI. 203
The protestants suffered the Roman catholic troops to gain almost the
summit of the rock, without giving them any opposition, or ever appearing
in their sight: but when they had almost reached the top they made a most
furious attack upon them; one party keeping up a well-directed and constant
fire, and another party rolling down huge stones.
This stopped the career of the papist troops: many were killed by the
musketry, and more by the stones, which beat them down the precipices.
Several fell sacrifices to their hurry, for by attempting a precipitate retreat,
they fell down, and were dashed to pieces; and captain Mario himself
narrowly escaped with his life, for he fell from a craggy place into a river
which washed the foot of the rock. He was taken up senseless, but
afterwards recovered, though he was ill of the bruises for a long time; and,
at length, he fell into a decline at Lucerne, where he died.
Another body of troops was ordered from the camp at Villaro, to make an
attempt upon Roras; but these were likewise defeated, by means of the
protestants' ambush-fighting, and compelled to retreat again to the camp at
Villaro.
With this view he ordered all the Roman catholic militia of Piedmont to be
raised and disciplined. When these orders were completed, he joined to the
militia eight thousand regular troops, and dividing the whole into three
distinct bodies, he designed that three formidable attacks should be made at
the same time, unless the people of Roras, to whom he sent an account of
his great preparations, would comply with the following conditions:
CHAPTER VI. 204
1. To ask pardon for taking up arms. 2. To pay the expenses of all the
expeditions sent against them. 3. To acknowledge the infallibility of the
pope. 4. To go to mass. 5. To pray to the saints. 6. To wear beards. 7. To
deliver up their ministers. 8. To deliver up their schoolmasters. 9. To go to
confession. 10. To pay loans for the delivery of souls from purgatory. 11.
To give up captain Gianavel at discretion. 12. To give up the elders of their
church at discretion.
Exasperated at this message, the marquis sent them this laconic epistle.
You shall have your request, for the troops sent against you have strict
injunctions to plunder, burn, and kill.
PIANESSA.
The three armies were then put in motion, and the attacks ordered to be
made thus: the first by the rocks of Villaro; the second by the pass of
Bagnol; and the third by the defile of Lucerne.
The troops forced their way by the superiority of numbers, and having
gained the rocks, pass, and defile, began to make the most horrid
depredations, and exercise the greatest cruelties. Men they hanged, burnt,
racked to death, or cut to pieces; women they ripped open, crucified,
drowned, or threw from the precipices; and children they tossed upon
spears, minced, cut their throats, or dashed out their brains. One hundred
and twenty-six suffered in this manner, on the first day of their gaining the
CHAPTER VI. 205
town.
My Lord Marquis,
But having said thus much, my lord, I assure you that the purchase of their
lives must not be the price of my salvation. You have them in your power it
CHAPTER VI. 206
is true; but my consolation is, that your power is only a temporary authority
over their bodies: you may destroy the mortal part, but their immortal souls
are out of your reach, and will live hereafter to bear testimony against you
for your cruelties. I therefore recommend them and myself to God, and pray
for a reformation in your heart.
JOSHUA GIANAVEL.
This brave protestant officer, after writing the above letter, retired to the
Alps, with his followers; and being joined by a great number of other
fugitive protestants, he harassed the enemy by continual skirmishes.
Meeting one day with a body of papist troops near Bibiana, he, though
inferior in numbers, attacked them with great fury, and put them to the rout
without the loss of a man, though himself was shot through the leg in the
engagement, by a soldier who had hid himself behind a tree; but Gianavel
perceiving from whence the shot came, pointed his gun to the place, and
despatched the person who had wounded him.
The next attempt of the protestant forces was upon St. Secondo, which they
attacked with great vigour, but met with a strong resistance from the
Roman catholic troops, who had fortified the streets, and planted
themselves in the houses, from whence they poured musket balls in
prodigious numbers. The protestants, however, advanced, under cover of a
great number of planks, which some held over their heads, to secure them
CHAPTER VI. 207
from the shots of the enemy from the houses, while others kept up a well
directed fire; so that the houses and entrenchments were soon forced, and
the town taken.
In the town they found a prodigious quantity of plunder, which had been
taken from protestants at various times, and different places, and which
were stored up in the warehouses, churches, dwelling houses, &c. This they
removed to a place of safety, to be distributed, with as much justice as
possible, among the sufferers.
This successful attack was made with such skill and spirit, that it cost very
little to the conquering party, the protestants having only 17 killed, and 26
wounded; while the papists suffered a loss of no less than 450 killed and
511 wounded.
The Roman catholics taking the alarm, a great number of troops were sent
to relieve Biqueras from Cavors, Bibiana, Fenile, Campiglione, and some
other neighbouring places. When these were united, they determined to
attack the three protestant parties, that were marching through the open
country.
The protestant officers perceiving the intent of the enemy, and not being at
a great distance from each other, joined their forces with the utmost
expedition, and formed themselves in order of battle.
In the mean time, the captains Jahier and Laurentio had assaulted the town
of Biqueras, and burnt all the out houses, to make their approaches with the
greater ease; but not being supported as they expected by the other three
CHAPTER VI. 208
The messenger soon returned and informed them that it was not in the
power of the three protestant captains to support their proceedings, as they
were themselves attacked by a very superior force in the plain, and could
scarce sustain the unequal conflict.
Captain Gianavel, having information that three hundred of the enemy were
to convoy a great quantity of stores, provisions, &c. from La Torre to the
castle of Mirabac, determined to attack them on the way. He, accordingly,
began the assault at Malbec, though with a very inadequate force. The
contest was long and bloody, but the protestants, at length, were obliged to
yield to the superiority of numbers, and compelled to make a retreat, which
they did with great regularity, and but little loss.
2. That with respect to the Roman catholics who had borne arms, whether
they belonged to the army or not, he should act by the law of retaliation,
CHAPTER VI. 209
and put them to death, for the numerous depredations, and many cruel
murders, they had committed.
3. That all women and children, whatever their religion might be, should be
safe.
4. That he commanded all male protestants to leave the town and join him.
5. That all apostates, who had, through weakness, abjured their religion,
should be deemed enemies, unless they renounced their abjuration.
6. That all who returned to their duty to God, and themselves, should be
received as friends.
The protestants, in general, immediately left the town, and joined captain
Gianavel with great satisfaction, and the few, who through weakness or
fear, had abjured their faith, recanted their abjuration, and were received
into the bosom of the church. As the marquis of Pianessa had removed the
army, and encamped in quite a different part of the country, the Roman
catholics of Villaro thought it would be folly to attempt to defend the place
with the small force they had. They, therefore, fled with the utmost
precipitation, leaving the town and most of their property, to the discretion
of the protestants.
The papists being apprized of the design, detached some troops to defend a
defile, through which the protestants must make their approach; but these
were defeated, compelled to abandon the pass, and forced to retreat to La
Torre.
The next day they mustered, reviewed the army, and found the whole to
amount to four hundred and ninety-five men. They then held a council of
war, and planned an easier enterprise: this was to make an attack on the
commonalty of Crusol, a place, inhabited by a number of the most bigoted
Roman catholics, and who had exercised, during the persecutions, the most
unheard-of cruelties on the protestants.
The day after the protestants were gone with their booty, eight hundred
troops arrived to the assistance of the people of Crusol, having been
despatched from Lucerne, Biqueras, Cavors, &c. But finding themselves
too late, and that pursuit would be vain, not to return empty handed, they
began to plunder the neighbouring villages, though what they took was
from their friends. After collecting a tolerable booty, they began to divide
it, but disagreeing about the different shares, they fell from words to blows,
did a great deal of mischief, and then plundered each other.
CHAPTER VI. 211
On the very same day in which the protestants were so successful at Crusol,
some papists marched with a design to plunder and burn the little protestant
village of Rocappiatta, but by the way they met with the protestant forces
belonging to the captains Jahier and Laurentio, who were posted on the hill
of Angrognia. A trivial engagement ensued, for the Roman catholics, on the
very first attack, retreated in great confusion, and were pursued with much
slaughter. After the pursuit was over, some straggling papist troops meeting
with a poor peasant, who was a protestant, tied a cord round his head, and
strained it till his skull was quite crushed.
He, therefore, by a forced march, proceeded towards that place during the
whole night, and was close to it by break of day. His first care was to cut
the pipes that conveyed water into the town, and then to break down the
bridge, by which alone provisions from the country could enter.
He then assaulted the places and speedily possessed himself of two of the
out posts; but finding he could not make himself master of the place, he
prudently retreated with very little loss, blaming, however captain Jahier,
for the failure of the enterprise.
The papists being informed that captain Gianavel was at Angrognia with
only his own company, determined if possible to surprise him. With this
view, a great number of troops were detached from La Torre and other
places: one party of these got on top of a mountain, beneath which he was
posted; and the other party intended to possess themselves of the gate of St.
Bartholomew.
The papists thought themselves sure of taking captain Gianavel and every
one of his men, as they consisted but of three hundred, and their own force
was two thousand five hundred. Their design, however, was providentially
frustrated, for one of the popish soldiers imprudently blowing a trumpet
CHAPTER VI. 212
before the signal for attack was given, captain Gianavel took the alarm, and
posted his little company so advantageously at the gate of St. Bartholomew,
and at the defile by which the enemy must descend from the mountains,
that the Roman catholic troops failed in both attacks, and were repulsed
with very considerable loss.
Soon after, captain Jahier came to Angrognia, and joined his forces to those
of captain Gianavel, giving sufficient reasons to excuse his
before-mentioned failure. Captain Jahier now made several secret
excursions with great success, always selecting the most active troops,
belonging both to Gianavel and himself. One day he had put himself at the
head of forty-four men, to proceed upon an expedition, when entering a
plain near Ossac, he was suddenly surrounded by a large body of horse.
Captain Jahier and his men fought desperately, though oppressed by odds,
and killed the commander-in-chief, three captains, and fifty-seven private
men, of the enemy. But captain Jahier himself being killed, with thirty-five
of his men, the rest surrendered. One of the soldiers cut off captain Jahier's
head, and carrying it to Turin, presented it to the duke of Savoy, who
rewarded him with six hundred ducatoons.
The death of this gentleman was a signal loss to the protestants, as he was a
real friend to, and companion of, the reformed church. He possessed a most
undaunted spirit, so that no difficulties could deter him from undertaking an
enterprise, or dangers terrify him in its execution. He was pious without
affectation, and humane without weakness; bold in a field, meek in a
domestic life, of a penetrating genius, active in spirit, and resolute in all his
undertakings.
To add to the affliction of the protestants, captain Gianavel was, soon after,
wounded in such a manner that he was obliged to keep his bed. They,
however, took new courage from misfortunes, and determining not to let
their spirits droop, attacked a body of popish troops with great intrepidity;
the protestants were much inferior in numbers, but fought with more
resolution than the papists, and at length routed them with considerable
slaughter. During the action, a sergeant named Michael Bertino was killed;
when his son, who was close behind him, leaped into his place, and said, I
CHAPTER VI. 213
have lost my father; but courage, fellow soldiers, God is a father to us all.
These, having formed a junction, encamped near the protestants, and spent
several days in calling councils of war, and disputing on the most proper
mode of proceeding. Some were for plundering the country, in order to
draw the protestants from their camp; others were for patiently waiting till
they were attacked; and a third party were for assaulting the protestant
camp, and trying to make themselves masters of every thing in it.
The last of them prevailed, and the morning after the resolution had been
taken was appointed to put it into execution. The Roman catholic troops
were accordingly separated into four divisions, three of which were to make
an attack in different places; and the fourth to remain as a body of reserve
to act as occasion might require.
CHAPTER VI. 214
One of the Roman catholic officers, previous to the attack, thus harangued
his men:
"Fellow-soldiers, you are now going to enter upon a great action, which
will bring you fame and riches. The motives of your acting with spirit are
likewise of the most important nature; namely, the honour of showing your
loyalty to your sovereign, the pleasure of spilling heretic blood, and the
prospect of plundering the protestant camp. So, my brave fellows, fall on,
give no quarter, kill all you meet, and take all you come near."
After this inhuman speech the engagement began, and the protestant camp
was attacked in three places with inconceivable fury. The fight was
maintained with great obstinacy and perseverance on both sides, continuing
without intermission for the space of four hours; for the several companies
on both sides relieved each other alternately, and by that means kept up a
continual fire during the whole action.
During the engagement of the main armies, a detachment was sent from the
body of reserve to attack the post of Castelas, which, if the papists had
carried, it would have given them the command of the valleys of Perosa, St.
Martino, and Lucerne; but they were repulsed with great loss, and
compelled to return to the body of reserve, from whence they had been
detached.
Soon after the return of this detachment, the Roman catholic troops, being
hard pressed in the main battle, sent for the body of reserve to come to their
support. These immediately marched to their assistance, and for some time
longer held the event doubtful, but at length the valour of the protestants
prevailed, and the papists were totally defeated, with the loss of upwards of
three hundred men killed, and many more wounded.
When the cyndic of Lucerne, who was indeed a papist, but not a bigoted
one, saw the great number of wounded men brought into that city, he
exclaimed, ah! I thought the wolves used to devour the heretics, but now I
see the heretics eat the wolves. This expression being reported to M.
Marolles, the Roman catholic commander in chief at Lucerne, he sent a
CHAPTER VI. 215
very severe and threatening letter to the cyndic, who was so terrified, that
the fright threw him into a fever, and he died in a few days.
This great battle was fought just before the harvest was got in, when the
papists, exasperated at their disgrace, and resolved on any kind of revenge,
spread themselves by night in detached parties over the finest corn-fields of
the protestants, and set them on fire in sundry places. Some of these
straggling parties, however, suffered for their conduct; for the protestants,
being alarmed in the night by the blazing of the fire among the corn,
pursued the fugitives early in the morning, and overtaking many, put them
to death. The protestant captain Bellin, likewise, by way of retaliation, went
with a body of light troops, and burnt the suburbs of La Torre, making his
retreat afterward with very little loss.
A few days after, captain Bellin, with a much stronger body of troops,
attacked the town of La Torre itself, and making a breach in the wall of the
convent, his men entered, driving the garrison into the citadel, and burning
both town and convent. After having effected this, they made a regular
retreat, as they could not reduce the citadel for want of cannon.
No sooner was the book published, than it was greatly read, and highly
esteemed, both in Italy and Spain; and this so raised the reputation of the
author, that his acquaintance was coveted by the most respectable
characters. Letters were written to him from numbers of people, so that a
correspondence was settled between him, and those who approved of his
method, in different parts of Europe. Some secular priests, both at Rome
and Naples, declared themselves openly for it, and consulted him, as a sort
of oracle, on many occasions. But those who attached themselves to him
with the greatest sincerity, were some of the fathers of the Oratory; in
particular three of the most eminent, namely, Caloredi, Ciceri, and Petrucci.
Many of the cardinals also courted his acquaintance, and thought
themselves happy in being reckoned among the number of his friends. The
most distinguished of them was the cardinal d'Estrees, a man of very great
learning, who so highly approved of Molinos' maxims, that he entered into
a close connexion with him. They conversed together daily, and
notwithstanding the distrust a Spaniard has naturally of a Frenchman, yet
Molinos, who was sincere in his principles, opened his mind without
reserve to the cardinal; and by this means a correspondence was settled
between Molinos and some distinguished characters in France.
Whilst Molinos was thus labouring to propagate his religious mode, father
Petrucci wrote several treatises relative to a contemplative life; but he
mixed in them so many rules for the devotions of the Romish church, as
mitigated that censure he might have otherwise incurred. They were written
chiefly for the use of the nuns, and therefore the sense was expressed in the
most easy and familiar style.
CHAPTER VI. 217
Molinos had now acquired such reputation, that the Jesuits and Dominicans
began to be greatly alarmed, and determined to put a stop to the progress of
this method. To do this, it was necessary to decry the author of it; and as
heresy is an imputation that makes the strongest impression at Rome,
Molinos and his followers were given out to be heretics. Books were also
written by some of the Jesuits against Molinos and his method; but they
were all answered with spirit by Molinos.
These disputes occasioned such disturbance in Rome, that the whole affair
was taken notice of by the inquisition. Molinos and his book, and father
Petrucci, with his treatises and letters, were brought under a severe
examination; and the Jesuits were considered as the accusers. One of the
society had, indeed, approved of Molinos' book but the rest took care he
should not be again seen at Rome. In the course of the examination both
Molinos and Petrucci acquitted themselves so well, that their books were
again approved, and the answers which the Jesuits had written were
censured as scandalous.
Petrucci's conduct on this occasion was so highly approved, that it not only
raised the credit of the cause, but his own emolument; for he was soon after
made bishop of Jesis, which was a new declaration made by the pope in
their favour. Their books were now esteemed more than ever, their method
was more followed, and the novelty of it, with the new approbation given
after so vigorous an accusation by the Jesuits, all contributed to raise the
credit, and increase the number of the party.
affected the reputation of it, were reckoned among the number. If these
persons were observed to become more strict in their lives and mental
devotions, yet there appeared less zeal in their whole deportment as to the
exterior parts of the church ceremonies. They were not so assiduous at
mass, nor so earnest to procure masses to be said for their friends; nor were
they so frequently either at confession, or in processions.
Though the new approbation given to Molinos' book by the inquisition had
checked the proceedings of his enemies; yet they were still inveterate
against him in their hearts, and determined if possible to ruin him. They
insinuated that he had ill designs, and was, in his heart, an enemy to the
Christian religion: that under pretence of raising men to a sublime strain of
devotion, he intended to erase from their minds a sense of the mysteries of
christianity. And because he was a Spaniard, they gave out that he was
descended from a Jewish or Mahometan race, and that he might carry in his
blood, or in his first education, some seeds of those religions which he had
since cultivated with no less art than zeal. This last calumny gained but
little credit at Rome, though it was said an order was sent to examine the
registers of the place where Molinos was baptised.
Molinos finding himself attacked with great vigour, and the most
unrelenting malice, took every necessary precaution to prevent these
imputations being credited. He wrote a treatise, entitled Frequent and Daily
Communion, which was likewise approved by some of the most learned of
the Romish clergy. This was printed with his Spiritual Guide, in the year
1675; and in the preface to it he declared, that he had not written it with any
design to engage himself in matters of controversy, but that it was drawn
from him by the earnest solicitations of many pious people.
When they were brought before the inquisitors, (which was the beginning
of the year 1684) Petrucci answered the respective questions put to him
with so much judgment and temper, that he was soon dismissed; and
though Molinos' examination was much longer, it was generally expected
he would have been likewise discharged: but this was not the case. Though
the inquisitors had not any just accusation against him, yet they strained
every nerve to find him guilty of heresy. They first objected to his holding a
correspondence in different parts of Europe; but of this he was acquitted, as
the matter of that correspondence could not be made criminal. They then
directed their attention to some suspicious papers found in his chamber; but
Molinos so clearly explained their meaning, that nothing could be made of
them to his prejudice. At length, cardinal d'Estrees, after producing the
order sent him by the king of France for prosecuting Molinos, said, he
could prove against him more than was necessary to convince them he was
guilty of heresy. To do this he perverted the meaning of some passages in
Molinos' books and papers, and related many false and aggravating
circumstances relative to the prisoner. He acknowledged he had lived with
him under the appearance of friendship, but that it was only to discover his
principles and intentions: that he had found them to be of a bad nature, and
that dangerous consequences were likely to ensue; but in order to make a
full discovery, he had assented to several things, which, in his heart, he
detested; and that, by these means, he saw into the secrets of Molinos, but
determined not to take any notice, till a proper opportunity should offer of
crushing him and his followers.
The count Vespiniani and his lady, Don Paulo Rocchi, confessor to the
prince Borghese, and some of his family, with several others, (in all seventy
persons) were put into the inquisition, among whom many were highly
esteemed both for their learning and piety. The accusation laid against the
clergy was, their neglecting to say the breviary; and the rest were accused
of going to the communion without first attending confession. In a word, it
was said, they neglected all the exterior parts of religion, and gave
themselves up wholly to solitude and inward prayer.
From this spirited speech, and the great noise made in consequence of the
countess's situation, the inquisitors thought it most prudent to dismiss both
her and her husband, lest the people might be incensed, and what she said
might lessen the credit of confession. They were, therefore, both
discharged, but bound to appear whenever they should be called upon.
Besides those already mentioned, such was the inveteracy of the Jesuits
against the Quietists, that within the space of a month upwards of two
hundred persons were put into the inquisition; and that method of devotion
which had passed in Italy as the most elevated to which mortals could
aspire, was deemed heretical, and the chief promoters of it confined in a
wretched dungeon.
therefore a strict charge was given to dissolve all those societies, and to
oblige the spiritual guide to tread in the known paths; and, in particular, to
take care none of that sort should be suffered to have the direction of the
nunneries. Orders were likewise given to proceed, in the way of justice,
against those who should be found guilty of these abominable errors.
After this a strict inquiry was made into all the nunneries in Rome; when
most of their directors and confessors were discovered to be engaged in this
new method. It was found that the Carmelites, the nuns of the Conception,
and those of several other convents, were wholly given up to prayer and
contemplation, and that, instead of their beads, and the other devotions to
saints, or images, they were much alone, and often in the exercise of mental
prayer; that when they were asked why they had laid aside the use of their
beads, and their ancient forms, their answer was, their directors had advised
them so to do. Information of this being given to the inquisition, they sent
orders that all books written in the same strain with those of Molinos and
Petrucci, should be taken from them, and that they should be compelled to
return to their original form of devotion.
The circular letter sent to cardinal Cibo, produced but little effect, for most
of the Italian bishops were inclined to Molinos' method. It was intended
that this, as well as all other orders from the inquisitors, should be kept
secret; but notwithstanding all their care, copies of it were printed, and
dispersed in most of the principal towns in Italy. This gave great uneasiness
to the inquisitors, who use every method they can to conceal their
proceedings from the knowledge of the world. They blamed the cardinal,
and accused him of being the cause of it; but he retorted on them, and his
secretary laid the fault on both.
Though he had lived in the highest reputation in Rome for some years, he
was now as much despised, as he had been admired, being generally
considered as one of the worst of heretics.
CHAPTER VI. 222
The greater part of Molinos' followers, who had been placed in the
inquisition, having abjured his mode, were dismissed; but a harder fate
awaited Molinos, their leader.
When he left the court he was attended by a priest, who had borne him the
greatest respect. On his arrival at the prison he entered the cell allotted for
his confinement with great tranquility; and on taking leave of the priest,
thus addressed him: Adieu, father, we shall meet again at the day of
judgment, and then it will appear on which side the truth is, whether on my
side, or on yours.
During his confinement, he was several times tortured in the most cruel
manner, till, at length, the severity of the punishments overpowered his
strength, and finished his existence.
The death of Molinos struck such an impression on his followers, that the
greater part of them soon abjured his mode; and by the assiduity of the
Jesuits, Quietism was totally extirpated throughout the country.
CHAPTER VII. 223
CHAPTER VII.
The Roman pontiffs having usurped a power over several churches were
particularly severe on the Bohemians, which occasioned them to send two
ministers and four lay-brothers to Rome, in the year 977, to obtain redress
of the pope. After some delay, their request was granted, and their
grievances redressed. Two things in particular they were permitted to do,
viz. to have divine service performed in their own language, and to give the
cup to the laity in the sacrament.
The disputes, however, soon broke out again, the succeeding popes exerting
their whole power to impose on the minds of the Bohemians; and the latter,
with great spirit, aiming to preserve their religious liberties.
John Huss.
John Huss was born at Hussenitz, a village in Bohemia, about the year
1380. His parents gave him the best education their circumstances would
CHAPTER VII. 224
Three proctors appeared for Dr. Huss before cardinal Colonna. They
endeavoured to excuse his absence, and said, they were ready to answer in
his behalf. But, the cardinal declared Huss contumacious, and
excommunicated him accordingly. The proctors appealed to the pope, and
appointed four cardinals to examine the process: these commissioners
confirmed the former sentence, and extended the excommunication not
only to Huss but to all his friends and followers.
From this unjust sentence Huss appealed to a future council, but without
success; and, notwithstanding so severe a decree, and an expulsion in
consequence from his church in Prague, he retired to Hussenitz, his native
place, where he continued to promulgate his new doctrine, both from the
pulpit and with the pen.
The letters which he wrote at this time were very numerous; and he
compiled a treatise in which he maintained, that reading the book of
protestants could not be absolutely forbidden. He wrote in defence of
Wickliffe's book on the Trinity; and boldly declared against the vices of the
pope, the cardinals, and clergy, of those corrupt times. He wrote also many
other books, all of which were penned with a strength of argument that
greatly facilitated the spreading of his doctrines.
reformation.
John Huss was summoned to appear at this council; and, to encourage him,
the emperor sent him a safe-conduct: the civilities, and even reverence,
which Huss met with on his journey, were beyond imagination. The streets,
and, sometimes the very roads, were lined with people, whom respect,
rather than curiosity, had brought together.
He was ushered into the town with great acclamations and it may be said,
that he passed through Germany in a kind of triumph. He could not help
expressing his surprise at the treatment he received: "I thought (said he) I
had been an outcast. I now see my worst friends are in Bohemia."
When it was known that he was in the city, he was immediately arrested,
and committed prisoner to a chamber in the palace. This violation of
common law and justice, was particularly noticed by one of Huss' friends,
who urged the imperial safe-conduct; but the pope replied, he never granted
any safe-conduct, nor was he bound by that of the emperor.
While Huss was in confinement, the council acted the part of inquisitors.
They condemned the doctrines of Wickliffe, and even ordered his remains
to be dug up and burnt to ashes; which orders were strictly complied with.
In the mean time, the nobility of Bohemia and Poland strongly interceded
for Huss; and so far prevailed as to prevent his being condemned unheard,
which had been resolved on by the commissioners appointed to try him.
When he was brought before the council, the articles exhibited against him
were read: they were upwards of forty in number, and chiefly extracted
CHAPTER VII. 227
After his examination, he was taken from the court, and a resolution was
formed by the council to burn him as a heretic if he would not retract. He
was then committed to a filthy prison, where, in the daytime, he was so
laden with fetters on his legs, that he could hardly move, and every night he
was fastened by his hand to a ring against the walls of the prison.
On the 4th of July, Dr. Huss was brought for the last time before the
council. After a long examination he was desired to abjure, which he
refused without the least hesitation. The bishop of Lodi then preached a
sanguinary sermon, concerning the destruction of heretics, the prologue to
his intended punishment. After the close of the sermon, his fate was
determined, his vindication was disregarded, and judgment pronounced.
Huss heard this sentence without the least emotion. At the close of it he
knelt down, with his eyes lifted towards heaven, and with all the
magnanimity of a primitive martyr, thus exclaimed: "May thy infinite
mercy, O my God! pardon this injustice of mine enemies. Thou knowest
the injustice of my accusations; how deformed with crimes I have been
represented; how I have been oppressed with worthless witnesses, and a
false condemnation; yet, O my God! let that mercy of thine, which no
tongue can express, prevail with thee not to avenge my wrongs."
After the ceremony of degradation was over, the bishops delivered Dr.
Huss to the emperor, who put him into the hands of the duke of Bavaria.
His books were burnt at the gates of the church; and on the 6th of July, he
was led to the suburbs of Constance, to be burnt alive. On his arrival at the
place of execution, he fell on his knees, sung several portions of the
Psalms, looked steadfastly towards heaven, and repeated these words: "Into
thy hands, O Lord! do I commit my spirit: thou hast redeemed me, O most
good and merciful God!"
When the chain was put about him at the stake, he said, with a smiling
countenance, "My Lord Jesus Christ was bound with a harder chain than
this for my sake, and why then should I be ashamed of this rusty one?"
When the fagots were piled up to his very neck, the duke of Bavaria was so
officious as to desire him to abjure. "No, (said Huss;) I never preached any
doctrine of an evil tendency; and what I taught with my lips I now seal with
my blood." He then said to the executioner, "You are now going to burn a
goose, (Huss signifying goose in the Bohemian language;) but in a century
you will have a swan whom you can neither roast nor boil." If he were
prophetic, he must have meant Martin Luther, who shone about a hundred
years after, and who had a swan for his arms.
The flames were now applied to the fagots, when our martyr sung a hymn
with so loud and cheerful a voice, that he was heard through all the
cracklings of the combustibles, and the noise of the multitude. At length his
voice was interrupted by the severity of the flames, which soon closed his
existence.
Jerom of Prague.
CHAPTER VII. 229
This reformer, who was the companion of Dr. Huss, and may be said to be
a co-martyr with him, was born at Prague, and educated in that university,
where he particularly distinguished himself for his great abilities and
learning. He likewise visited several other learned seminaries in Europe,
particularly the universities of Paris, Heidelburg, Cologn, and Oxford. At
the latter place he became acquainted with the works of Wickliffe, and
being a person of uncommon application, he translated many of them into
his native language, having with great pains, made himself master of the
English tongue.
On the 4th of April, 1415, Jerom arrived at Constance, about three months
before the death of Huss. He entered the town privately, and consulting
with some of the leaders of his party, whom he found there, was easily
convinced he could not be of any service to his friends.
Finding that his arrival in Constance was publicly known, and that the
council intended to seize him, he thought it most prudent to retire.
Accordingly, the next day he went to Iberling, an imperial town, about a
mile from Constance. From this place he wrote to the emperor, and
proposed his readiness to appear before the council, if he would give him a
safe-conduct; but this was refused. He then applied to the council, but met
with an answer no less unfavourable than that from the emperor.
After this, he set out on his return to Bohemia. He had the precaution to
take with him a certificate, signed by several of the Bohemian nobility, then
at Constance, testifying that he had used all prudent means in his power to
procure a hearing.
a service.
The duke of Sultsbach, having Jerom now in his power, wrote to the
council for directions how to proceed. The council, after expressing their
obligations to the duke, desired him to send the prisoner immediately to
Constance. The elector palatine met him on the way, and conducted him
into the city, himself riding on horseback, with a numerous retinue, who led
Jerom in fetters by a long chain; and immediately on his arrival he was
committed to a loathsome dungeon.
Jerom was treated nearly in the same manner as Huss had been, only that he
was much longer confined, and shifted from one prison to another. At
length, being brought before the council, he desired that he might plead his
own cause, and exculpate himself: which being refused him, he broke out
into the following elegant exclamation:
"What barbarity is this! For three hundred and forty days have I been
confined in a variety of prisons. There is not a misery, there is not a want,
that I have not experienced. To my enemies you have allowed the fullest
scope of accusation: to me, you deny, the least opportunity of defence. Not
an hour will you now indulge me in preparing for my trial. You have
swallowed the blackest calumnies against me. You have represented me as
a heretic, without knowing my doctrine; as an enemy to the faith, before
you knew what faith I professed; as a persecutor of priests before you could
have an opportunity of understanding my sentiments on that head. You are
a general council: in you centre all this world can communicate of gravity,
wisdom, and sanctity: but still you are men, and men are seducible by
appearances. The higher your character is for wisdom, the greater ought
your care to be not to deviate into folly. The cause I now plead is not my
own cause: it is the cause of men, it is the cause of christians; it is a cause
which is to affect the rights of posterity, however the experiment is to be
made in my person."
This speech had not the least effect; Jerom was obliged to hear the charge
read, which was reduced under the following heads:--1. That he was a
derider of the papal dignity;--2. An opposer of the pope;--3. An enemy to
CHAPTER VII. 231
The trial of Jerom was brought on the third day after his accusation and
witnesses were examined in support of the charge. The prisoner was
prepared for his defence, which appears almost incredible, when we
consider he had been three hundred and forty days shut up in loathsome
prisons, deprived of daylight, and almost starved for want of common
necessaries. But his spirit soared above these disadvantages, under which a
man less animated would have sunk; nor was he more at a loss for
quotations from the fathers and ancient authors than if he had been
furnished with the finest library.
The trial being over, Jerom received the same sentence that had been
passed upon his martyred countryman. In consequence of this he was, in
the usual style of popish affectation, delivered over to the civil power: but
as he was a layman, he had not to undergo the ceremony of degradation.
They had prepared a cap of paper painted with red devils, which being put
upon his head, he said, "Our Lord Jesus Christ, when he suffered death for
me a most miserable sinner, did wear a crown of thorns upon his head, and
for His sake will I wear this cap."
Two days were allowed him in hopes that he would recant; in which time
the cardinal of Florence used his utmost endeavours to bring him over. But
they all proved ineffectual. Jerom was resolved to seal the doctrine with his
blood; and he suffered death with the most distinguished magnanimity.
Zisca.
The real name of this zealous servant of Christ was John de Trocznow, that
of Zisca is a Bohemian word, signifying one-eyed, as he had lost an eye. He
was a native of Bohemia, of a good family and left the court of Winceslaus,
to enter into the service of the king of Poland against the Teutonic knights.
Having obtained a badge of honour and a purse of ducats for his gallantry,
at the close of the war he returned to the court of Winceslaus, to whom he
CHAPTER VII. 233
boldly avowed the deep interest he took in the bloody affront offered to his
majesty's subjects at Constance in the affair of Huss. Winceslaus lamented
it was not in his power to revenge it; and from this moment Zisca is said to
have formed the idea of asserting the religious liberties of his country. In
the year 1418, the council was dissolved, having done more mischief than
good, and in the summer of that year a general meeting was held of the
friends of religious reformation, at the castle of Wilgrade, who, conducted
by Zisca, repaired to the emperor with arms in their hands, and offered to
defend him against his enemies. The king bid them use their arms properly,
and this stroke of policy first insured to Zisca the confidence of his party.
Winter approaching, Zisca fortified his camp on a strong hill about forty
miles from Prague, which he called Mount Tabor, from whence he
surprised a body of horse at midnight, and made a thousand men prisoners.
Shortly after, the emperor obtained possession of the strong fortress of
Prague, by the same means that Zisca had before done: it was soon
CHAPTER VII. 234
blockaded by the latter, and want began to threaten the emperor, who saw
the necessity of a retreat.
The confederate princes undertook the siege of Soisin, but at the approach
merely of the Bohemian general, they retreated. Sigismond nevertheless
advanced with his formidable army, consisting of 15,000 Hungarian horse
and 25,000 infantry, well equipped for a winter campaign. This army
spread terror through all the east of Bohemia. Wherever Sigismond
CHAPTER VII. 235
marched, the magistrates laid their keys at his feet, and were treated with
severity or favour, according to their merits in his cause. Zisca, however,
with speedy marches, approached, and the emperor resolved to try his
fortune once more with that invincible chief. On the 13th of January, 1422,
the two armies met on a spacious plain near Kamnitz. Zisca appeared in the
centre of his front line, guarded, or rather conducted, by a horseman on
each side, armed with a pole-axe. His troops having sung a hymn with a
determined coolness drew their swords, and waited for a signal. When his
officers had informed him that the ranks were all well closed, he waved his
sabre round his head, which was the sign of battle.
This battle is described as a most awful sight. The extent of the plain was
one continued scene of disorder. The imperial army fled towards the
confines of Moravia, the Taborites, without intermission, galling their rear.
The river Igla, then frozen, opposed their flight. The enemy pressing
furiously, many of the infantry, and in a manner the whole body of the
cavalry attempted the river. The ice gave way and not fewer than 2000 were
swalled up in the water. Zisca now returned to Tabor, laden with all the
spoils and trophies which the most complete victory could give.
Zisca now began again to pay attention to the reformation; he forbid all the
prayers for the dead, images, sacerdotal vestments, fasts, and festivals.
Priests were to be preferred according to their merits, and no one to be
persecuted for religious opinions. In every thing Zisca consulted the liberal
minded, and did nothing without general concurrence. An alarming
disagreement now arose at Prague between the magistrates who were
Calixtans, or receivers of the sacraments in both kinds, and the Taborites,
nine of the chiefs of whom were privately arraigned, and put to death. The
populace, enraged, sacrificed the magistrates, and the affair terminated
without any particular consequence. The Calixtans having sunk into
contempt, Zisca was solicited to assume the crown of Bohemia; but this he
nobly refused, and prepared for the next campaign, in which Sigismond
resolved to make his last effort. While the marquis of Misnia penetrated
into Upper Saxony, the emperor proposed to enter Moravia, on the side of
Hungary. Before the marquis had taken the field, Zisca sat down before the
strong town of Ausig, situate on the Elbe. The marquis flew to its relief
CHAPTER VII. 236
Zisca, willing to give his troops some respite from fatigue, now entered
Prague, hoping his presence would quell any uneasiness that might remain
after the late disturbance: but he was suddenly attacked by the people; and
he and his troop having beaten off the citizens effected a retreat to his army,
whom he acquainted with the treacherous conduct of the Calixtans. Every
effort of address was necessary to appease their vengeful animosity, and at
night, in a private interview between Roquesan, an ecclesiastic of great
eminence in Prague, and Zisca, the latter became reconciled, and the
intended hostilities were done away.
After the death of Zisca, Procop was defeated, and fell with the liberties of
his country.
After the death of Huss and Jerom, the pope, in conjunction with the
council of Constance, ordered the Roman clergy every where, to
excommunicate such as adopted their opinions, or commisserated their fate.
the latter. At Prague, the persecution was extremely severe, till, at length,
the reformed being driven to desperation, armed themselves, attacked the
senate-house, and threw twelve senators, with the speaker, out of the
senate-house windows, whose bodies fell upon spears, which were held up
by others of the reformed in the street, to receive them.
This occasioned a bloody war; for several popish princes undertook the
extirpation, or at least expulsion, of the proscribed people; and the
Bohemians, arming themselves, prepared to repel force by force, in the
most vigorous and effectual manner. The popish army prevailing against
the protestant forces at the battle of Cuttenburgh, the prisoners of the
reformed were taken to three deep mines near that town and several
hundreds were cruelly thrown into each, where they miserably perished.
merchant to follow the example of the student, he nobly said, "Lose no time
in hopes of my recantation, your expectations will be vain; I sincerely pity
that poor wretch, who has miserably sacrificed his soul for a few more
uncertain years of a troublesome life; and, so far from having the least idea
of following his example, I glory in the very thoughts of dying for the sake
of Christ." On hearing these words, the priest ordered the executioner to
proceed, and the merchant being drawn through the city was brought to the
place of execution, and there burnt.
These reformers consisted chiefly of Jesuits, and from their decision, there
was no appeal, by which it may be easily conjectured, that it was a dreadful
tribunal indeed.
This bloody court, attended by a body of troops, made the tour of Bohemia,
to which they seldom examined or saw a prisoner, suffering the soldiers to
murder the protestants as they pleased, and then to make a report of the
matter to them afterward.
The first victim of their cruelty was an aged minister whom they killed as
he lay sick in his bed, the next day they robbed, and murdered another, and
soon after shot a third, as he was preaching in his pulpit.
into small pieces, and they filled a young man's mouth with gunpowder,
and setting fire to it, blew his head to pieces.
As their principal rage was directed against the clergy, they took a pious
protestant minister, and tormented him daily for a month together, in the
following manner, making their cruelty regular, systematic, and
progressive.
They placed him amidst them, and made him the subject of their derision
and mockery, during a whole day's entertainment, trying to exhaust his
patience, but in vain, for he bore the whole with true christian fortitude.
They spit in his face, pulled his nose, and pinched him in most parts of his
body. He was hunted like a wild beast, till ready to expire with fatigue.
They made him run the gauntlet between two ranks of them, each striking
him with a twig. He was beat with their fists. He was beat with ropes. They
scourged him with wires. He was beat with cudgels. They tied him up by
the heels with his head downwards, till the blood started out of his nose,
mouth, &c. They hung him by the right arm till it was dislocated, and then
had it set again. The same was repeated with his left arm. Burning papers
dipped in oil, were placed between his fingers and toes. His flesh was torn
with red-hot pincers. He was put to the rack. They pulled off the nails of his
right hand. The same repeated with his left hand. He was bastinadoed on
his feet. A slit was made in his right ear. The same repeated on his left ear.
His nose was slit. They whipped him through the town upon an ass. They
made several incisions in his flesh. They pulled off the toe nails of his right
foot. The same repeated with his left foot. He was tied up by the loins, and
suspended for a considerable time. The teeth of his upper jaw were pulled
out. The same was repeated with his lower jaw. Boiling lead was poured
upon his fingers. The same repeated with his toes. A knotted cord was
twisted about his forehead in such a manner as to force out his eyes.
During the whole of these horrid cruelties, particular care was taken that his
wounds should not mortify, and not to injure him mortally till the last day,
when the forcing out of his eyes proved his death.
CHAPTER VII. 241
A secret order was soon after issued by the emperor, for apprehending all
noblemen and gentlemen, who had been principally concerned in
supporting the protestant cause, and in nominating Frederic elector Palatine
of the Rhine, to be king of Bohemia. These, to the number of fifty, were
apprehended in one night, and at one hour, and brought from the places
where they were taken, to the castle of Prague, and the estates of those who
were absent from the kingdom were confiscated, themselves were made
outlaws, and their names fixed upon a gallows, as marks of public
ignominy.
The high court of reformers then proceeded to try the fifty, who had been
apprehended, and two apostate protestants were appointed to examine
them. These examinants asked a great number of unnecessary and
impertinent questions, which so exasperated one of the noblemen, who was
naturally of a warm temper, that he exclaimed opening his breast at the
same time, "Cut here, search my heart, you shall find nothing but the love
of religion and liberty; those were the motives for which I drew my sword,
and for those I am willing to suffer death."
all, but in a different manner, as his sentences were of four kinds, viz.
death, banishment, imprisonment for life, and imprisonment during
pleasure.
Twenty being ordered for execution, were informed they might send for
Jesuits, monks, or friars, to prepare for the awful change they were to
undergo; but that no protestants should be permitted to come near them.
This proposal they rejected, and strove all they could to comfort and cheer
each other upon the solemn occasion.
On the morning of the day appointed for the execution, a cannon was fired
as a signal to bring the prisoners from the castle to the principal
market-place, in which scaffolds were erected, and a body of troops were
drawn up to attend the tragic scene.
The prisoners left the castle with as much cheerfulness as if they had been
going to an agreeable entertainment, instead of a violent death.
Lord Schilik was about fifty years of age, and was possessed of great
natural and acquired abilities. When he was told he was to be quartered,
and his parts scattered in different places, he smiled with great serenity,
saying, The loss of a sepulchre is but a trifling consideration. A gentleman
who stood by, crying, courage, my lord; he replied, I have God's favour,
which is sufficient to inspire any one with courage: the fear of death does
not trouble me; formerly I have faced him in fields of battle to oppose
Antichrist; and now dare face him on a scaffold, for the sake of Christ.
Having said a short prayer, he told the executioner he was ready, who cut
off his right hand and his head, and then quartered him. His hand and head
were placed upon the high tower of Prague, and his quarters distributed in
different parts of the city.
CHAPTER VII. 243
Lord Viscount Winceslaus, who had attained the age of seventy years, was
equally respectable for learning, piety, and hospitality. His temper was so
remarkably patient, that when his house was broke open, his property
seized, and his estates confiscated, he only said, with great composure, The
Lord hath given, and the Lord hath taken away. Being asked why he could
engage in so dangerous a cause as that of attempting to support the elector
Palatine Frederic against the power of the emperor, he replied, I acted
strictly according to the dictates of my conscience, and, to this day, deem
him my king. I am now full of years, and wish to lay down life, that I may
not be a witness of the farther evils which are to attend my country. You
have long thirsted for my blood, take it, for God will be my avenger. Then
approaching the block, he stroked his long grey beard, and said, Venerable
hairs, the greater honour now attends ye, a crown of martyrdom is your
portion. Then laying down his head, it was severed from his body at one
stroke, and placed upon a pole in a conspicuous part of the city.
Lord Harant was a man of good sense, great piety, and much experience
gained by travel, as he had visited the principal places in Europe, Asia, and
Africa. Hence he was free from national prejudices and had collected much
knowledge.
The accusations against this nobleman, were, his being a protestant and
having taken an oath of allegiance to Frederic, elector Palatine of the
Rhine, as king of Bohemia. When he came upon the scaffold he said, "I
have travelled through many countries, and traversed various barbarous
nations, yet never found so much cruelty as at home. I have escaped
innumerable perils both by sea and land, and surmounted inconceivable
difficulties, to suffer innocently in my native place. My blood is likewise
sought by those for whom I, and my forefathers, have hazarded our estates;
but, Almighty God! forgive them, for they know not what they do." He then
went to the block, kneeled down, and exclaimed with great energy, into thy
hands, O Lord! I commend my spirit; in thee have I always trusted; receive
me, therefore, my blessed Redeemer. The fatal stroke was then given, and a
period put to the temporary pains of this life.
CHAPTER VII. 244
Lord Henry Otto, when he first came upon the scaffold, seemed greatly
confounded, and said, with some asperity, as if addressing himself to the
emperor, "Thou tyrant Ferdinand, your throne is established in blood; but if
you kill my body, and disperse my members, they shall still rise up in
judgment against you." He then was silent, and having walked about for
some time, seemed to recover his fortitude, and growing calm, said to a
gentleman who stood near, I was, a few minutes since, greatly
discomposed, but now I feel my spirits revive; God be praised for affording
me such comfort; death no longer appears as the king of terrors, but seems
to invite me to participate of some unknown joys. Kneeling before the
block, he said, Almighty God! to thee I commend my soul, receive it for the
sake of Christ, and admit it to the glory of thy presence. The executioner
put this nobleman to considerable pain, by making several strokes before he
severed the head from the body.
The earl of Rugenia was distinguished for his superior abilities, and
unaffected piety. On the scaffold he said, "We who drew our swords,
fought only to preserve the liberties of the people, and to keep our
consciences sacred: as we were overcome, I am better pleased at the
sentence of death, than if the emperor had given me life; for I find that it
pleases God to have his truth defended, not by our swords, but by our
blood." He then went boldly to the block, saying, I shall now be speedily
with Christ, and received the crown of martyrdom with great courage.
Sir Gaspar Kaplitz was 86 years of age. When he came to the place of
execution, he addressed the principal officer thus: "Behold a miserable
ancient man, who hath often entreated God to take him out of this wicked
world, but could not until now obtain his desire, for God reserved me till
these years to be a spectacle to the world and a sacrifice to himself;
CHAPTER VII. 245
therefore God's will be done." One of the officers told him, in consideration
of his great age, that if he would only ask pardon, he would immediately
receive it. "Ask pardon, (exclaimed he) I will ask pardon of God, whom I
have frequently offended; but not of the emperor, to whom I never gave any
offence should I sue for pardon, it might be justly suspected I had
committed some crime for which I deserved this condemnation. No, no, as I
die innocent, and with a clear conscience, I would not be separated from
this noble company of martyrs:" so saying, he cheerfully resigned his neck
to the block.
Procopius Dorzecki on the scaffold said, "We are now under the emperor's
judgment; but in time he shall be judged, and we shall appear as witnesses
against him." Then taking a gold medal from his neck, which was struck
when the elector Frederic was crowned king of Bohemia, he presented it to
one of the officers, at the same time uttering these words, "As a dying man,
I request, if ever king Frederic is restored to the throne of Bohemia, that
you will give him this medal. Tell him, for his sake, I wore it till death, and
that now I willingly lay down my life for God and my king." He then
cheerfully laid down his head and submitted to the fatal blow.
Dionysius Servius was brought up a Roman catholic, but had embraced the
reformed religion for some years. When upon the scaffold the Jesuits used
their utmost endeavours to make him recant, and return to his former faith,
but he paid not the least attention to their exhortations. Kneeling down he
said, they may destroy my body, but cannot injure my soul, that I commend
to my Redeemer; and then patiently submitted to martyrdom, being at that
time fifty-six years of age.
Tobias Steffick was remarkable for his affability and serenity of temper. He
was perfectly resigned to his fate, and a few minutes before his death spoke
in this singular manner, "I have received, during the whole course of my
life, many favours from God; ought I not therefore cheerfully to take one
bitter cup, when he thinks proper to present it? Or rather, ought I not to
rejoice, that it is his will I should give up a corrupted life for that of
immortality!"
Christopher Chober, as soon as he stepped upon the scaffold said, 'I come
in the name of God, to die for his glory; I have fought the good fight, and
finished my course; so, executioner, do your office.' The executioner
obeyed, and he instantly received the crown of martyrdom.
No person ever lived more respected, or died more lamented, than John
Shultis. The only words he spoke, before receiving the fatal stroke, were,
"The righteous seem to die in the eyes of fools, but they only go to rest.
Lord Jesus! thou hast promised that those who come to thee shall not be
cast off. Behold, I am come; look on me, pity me, pardon my sins, and
receive my soul."
Maximilian Hostialick was famed for his learning, piety, and humanity.
When he first came on the scaffold, he seemed exceedingly terrified at the
approach of death. The officer taking notice of his agitation, he said, "Ah!
sir, now the sins of my youth crowd upon my mind; but I hope God will
enlighten me, lest I sleep the sleep of death, and lest mine enemies say, we
have prevailed." Soon after he said, "I hope my repentance is sincere, and
will be accepted, in which case the blood of Christ will wash me from my
crimes." He then told the officer he should repeat the song of Simeon; at the
conclusion of which the executioner might do his duty. He, accordingly,
said, Lord! now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy
CHAPTER VII. 247
word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation; at which words his head was
struck off at one blow.
When John Kutnaur came to the place of execution, a Jesuit said to him,
"Embrace the Roman catholic faith, which alone can save and arm you
against the terrors of death." To which he replied, "Your superstitious faith
I abhor, it leads to perdition, and I wish for no other arms against the terrors
of death, than a good conscience." The Jesuit turned away, saying,
sarcastically, The protestants are impenetrable rocks. You are mistaken,
said Kutnaur, it is Christ that is the rock, and we are firmly fixed upon him.
This person not being born independent, but having acquired a fortune by a
mechanical employment, was ordered to be hanged.--Just before he was
turned off, he said, "I die, not for having committed any crime, but for
following the dictates of my own conscience, and defending my country
and religion."
Simeon Sussickey was father-in-law to Kutnaur, and like him, was ordered
to be executed on a gallows. He went cheerfully to death and appeared
impatient to be executed, saying, "Every moment delays me from entering
into the kingdom of Christ."
Wodnianskey's own son then approached the gallows, and said to his father,
"Sir, if life should be offered to you on condition of apostacy, I entreat you
to remember Christ, and reject such pernicious overtures." To this the father
replied, "It is very acceptable, my son, to be exhorted to constancy by you;
CHAPTER VII. 248
but suspect me not; rather endeavour to confirm in their faith your brothers,
sisters, and children, and teach them to imitate that constancy of which I
shall leave them an example." He had no sooner concluded these words
than he was turned off, receiving the crown of martyrdom with great
fortitude.
Martin Foster was an ancient cripple; the accusations against whom were,
being charitable to heretics, and lending money to the elector Frederic. His
great wealth, however, seems to have been his principal crime; and that he
might be plundered of his treasures, was the occasion of his being ranked in
this illustrious list of martyrs.
CHAPTER VIII. 249
CHAPTER VIII.
To this end;
4. He permitted the emperor to pledge the abbey lands for five hundred
thousand crowns, to assist in carrying on hostilities against the protestants.
Thus prompted and supported, the emperor undertook the extirpation of the
protestants, against whom, indeed, he was particularly enraged himself;
and, for this purpose, a formidable army was raised in Germany, Spain and
Italy.
At length the armies met, and a desperate engagement ensued, in which the
protestants were defeated, and the elector of Saxony, and landgrave of
CHAPTER VIII. 250
Hesse, both taken prisoners. This fatal blow was succeeded by a horrid
persecution, the severities of which were such, that exile might be deemed
a mild fate, and concealment in a dismal wood pass for happiness. In such
times a cave is a palace, a rock a bed of down, and wild roots delicacies.
Those who were taken experienced the most cruel tortures the infernal
imaginations could invent; and, by their constancy evinced that a real
christian can surmount every difficulty, and despise ever danger to acquire
a crown of martyrdom.
Henry Voes and John Esch, being apprehended as protestants, were brought
to examination; when Voes, answering for himself and the other, gave the
following answers to some questions asked by a priest, who examined them
by order of the magistracy.
Priest. Were you not both, some years ago, Augustine friars?
Voes. Yes.
Priest. How came you to quit the bosom of the church of Rome?
Priest. Do you believe in the writings of the fathers, and the decrees of the
councils?
Voes. He seduced us even in the very same manner as Christ seduced the
apostles; that is, he made us sensible of the frailty of our bodies, and the
CHAPTER VIII. 251
This examination was sufficient; they were both condemned to the flames,
and soon after, suffered with that manly fortitude which becomes
christians, when they receive a crown of martyrdom.
Henry Sutphen, an eloquent and pious preacher, was taken out of his bed in
the middle of the night, and compelled to walk barefoot a considerable
way, so that his feet were terribly cut. He desired a horse, but his
conductors said, in derision, A horse for a heretic! no no, heretics may go
barefoot. When he arrived at the place of his destination, he was
condemned to be burnt; but, during the execution, many indignities were
offered him, as those who attended not content with what he suffered in the
flames, cut and slashed him in a most terrible manner.
Many were murdered at Halle; Middleburg being taken by storm all the
protestants were put to the sword, and great numbers were burned at
Vienna.
Peter Spengler, a pious divine, of the town of Schalet, was thrown into the
river, and drowned. Before he was taken to the banks of the stream which
was to become his grave, they led him to the market-place, that his crimes
might be proclaimed; which were, not going to mass, not making
confession, and not believing in transubstantiation. After this ceremony was
CHAPTER VIII. 252
over, he made a most excellent discourse to the people, and concluded with
a kind of hymn, of a very edifying nature.
A protestant gentleman being ordered to lose his head for not renouncing
his religion, went cheerfully to the place of execution. A friar came to him,
and said these words in a low tone of voice, "As you have a great
reluctance publicly to abjure your faith, whisper your confession in my ear,
and I will absolve your sins." To this the gentleman loudly replied,
"Trouble me not, friar, I have confessed my sins to God, and obtained
absolution through the merits of Jesus Christ." Then turning to the
executioner, he said, "Let me not be pestered with these men, but perform
your duty." On which his head was struck off at a single blow.
Wolfgang Scuch, and John Huglin, two worthy ministers, were burned, as
was Leonard Keyser, a student of the university of Wertembergh; and
George Carpenter, a Bavarian, was hanged for refusing to recant
protestantism.
The persecutions in Germany having subsided many years, again broke out
in 1630, on account of the war between the emperor and the king of
Sweden, for the latter was a protestant prince, and consequently the
protestants of Germany espoused his cause, which greatly exasperated the
emperor against them.
The imperialists having laid siege to the town of Passewalk, (which was
defended by the Swedes) took it by storm, and committed the most horrid
cruelties on the occasion. They pulled down the churches, burnt the houses,
pillaged the properties, massacred the ministers, put the garrison to the
sword, hanged the townsmen, ravished the women, smothered the children,
&c. &c.
A most bloody tragedy was transacted at Magdeburg, in the year 1631. The
generals Tilly and Pappenheim, having taken that protestant city by storm,
upwards of 20,000 persons, without distinction of rank, sex, or age, were
slain during the carnage, and 6,000 were drowned in attempting to escape
over the river Elbe. After this fury had subsided, the remaining inhabitants
CHAPTER VIII. 253
were stripped naked, severely scourged, had their ears cropped, and being
yoked together like oxen were turned adrift.
The town of Hoxter was taken by the popish army, and all the inhabitants
as well as the garrison, were put to the sword; when the houses being set on
fire, the bodies were consumed in the flames.
The cruelties used by the imperial troops, under count Tilly in Saxony, are
thus enumerated.
Half strangling, and recovering the persons again repeatedly. Rolling sharp
wheels over the fingers and toes. Pinching the thumbs in a vice. Forcing the
most filthy things down the throat, by which many were choked. Tying
cords round the head so tight that the blood gushed out of the eyes, nose,
ears, and mouth. Fastening burning matches to the fingers, toes, ears, arms,
legs, and even tongue. Putting powder in the mouth and setting fire to it, by
which the head was shattered to pieces. Tying bags of powder to all parts of
the body, by which the person was blown up. Drawing cords backwards
and forwards through the fleshy parts. Making incisions with bodkins and
knives in the skin. Running wires through the nose, ears, lips, &c. Hanging
protestants up by the legs, with their heads over a fire, by which they were
smoked dried. Hanging up by one arm till it was dislocated. Hanging upon
hooks by the ribs. Forcing people to drink till they burst. Baking many in
hot ovens. Fixing weights to the feet, and drawing up several with pulleys.
Hanging, stifling, roasting, stabbing, frying, racking, ravishing, ripping
open, breaking the bones, rasping off the flesh, tearing with wild horses,
drowning, strangling, burning, broiling, crucifying, immuring, poisoning,
cutting off tongues, nose, ears, &c. sawing off the limbs, hacking to pieces,
CHAPTER VIII. 254
An aged and pious divine they stripped naked, tied him on his back upon a
table, and fastened a large fierce cat upon his belly. They then pricked and
tormented the cat in such a manner, that the creature with rage tore his belly
open, and knawed his bowels.
Another minister, and his family, were seized by these inhuman monsters;
when they ravished his wife and daughter before his face; stuck his infant
son upon the point of a lance, and then surrounding him with his whole
library of books, they set fire to them, and he was consumed in the midst of
the flames.
The same soldiers met with two countesses, who, together with some young
ladies, the daughters of one of them, were taking an airing in a landau. The
soldiers spared their lives, but treated them with the greatest indecency, and
having stripped them all stark naked, bade the coachman drive on.
The great church of the Holy Ghost, at Heidelburg, had, for many years,
been shared equally by the protestants and Roman catholics in this manner:
the protestants performed divine service in the nave or body of the church;
and the Roman catholics celebrated mass in the choir. Though this had been
the custom time immemorial, the elector Palatinate, at length, took it into
his head not to suffer it any longer, declaring, that as Heidelburg was the
place of his residence, and the church of the Holy Ghost the cathedral of his
principal city, divine service ought to be performed only according to the
rites of the church of which he was a member. He then forbade the
protestants to enter the church, and put the papists in possession of the
whole.
The aggrieved people applied to the protestant powers for redress, which so
much exasperated the elector, that he suppressed the Heidelburg catechism.
The protestant powers, however, unanimously agreed to demand
satisfaction, as the elector, by this conduct, had broke an article of the
treaty of Westphalia; and the courts of Great Britain, Prussia, Holland, &c.,
sent deputies to the elector, to represent the injustice of his proceedings,
and to threaten, unless he changed his behaviour to the protestants in the
CHAPTER VIII. 256
Palatinate, that they would treat their Roman catholic subjects with the
greatest severity. Many violent disputes took place between the Protestant
powers and those of the elector, and these were greatly augmented by the
following incident; the coach of the Dutch minister standing before the
door of the resident sent by the prince of Hesse, the host was by chance
carrying to a sick person; the coachman took not the least notice, which
those who attended the host observing, pulled him from his box, and
compelled him to kneel: this violence to the domestic of a public minister,
was highly resented by all the protestant deputies; and still more to
heighten these differences, the protestants presented to the deputies three
additional articles of complaint.
These things he did through fear; but to show his resentment to his
protestant subjects, in other circumstances where protestant states had no
CHAPTER VIII. 257
In the mean time the protestants of Heidelburg sunk into poverty and many
of them became so distressed, as to quit their native country, and seek an
asylum in protestant states. A great number of these coming into England,
in the time of queen Anne, were cordially received there, and met with a
most humane assistance, both by public and private donations.
The light of the gospel having successfully spread over the Netherlands, the
pope instigated the emperor to commence a persecution against the
protestants; when many thousand fell martyrs to superstitious malice and
barbarous bigotry, among whom the most remarkable were the following:
finding her endeavours ineffectual, she said, Dear Wendelinuta, if you will
not embrace our faith, at least keep the things which you profess secret
within your own bosom, and strive to prolong your life. To which the
widow replied, Madam you know not what you say; for with the heart we
believe to righteousness, but with the tongue confession is made unto
salvation. As she positively refused to recant, her goods were confiscated,
and she was condemned to be burnt. At the place of execution a monk held
a cross to her, and bade her kiss and worship God. To which she answered,
"I worship no wooden god, but the eternal God who is in heaven." She was
then executed, but through the before-mentioned Roman catholic lady, the
favour was granted, that she should be strangled before fire was put to the
fagots.
short space of time with the belly to the ground, it suddenly turned upon the
back, when the right foot crossed over the left, as did also the right arm
over the left: and in this manner it remained till it was committed to the
flames.
In the year 1543 and 1544, the persecution was carried on throughout all
Flanders, in a most violent and cruel manner. Some were condemned to
perpetual imprisonment, others to perpetual banishment but most were put
to death either by hanging, drowning, immuring, burning, the rack, or
burying alive.
execution being determined on, an order was given to drown him in prison.
The executioner, accordingly, put him in a large tub; but Boscane
struggling, and getting his head above the water, the executioner stabbed
him with a dagger in several places, till he expired.
John de Buisons, another protestant, was, about the same time, secretly
apprehended, and privately executed at Antwerp. The number of protestants
being great in that city, and the prisoner much respected, the magistrates
feared an insurrection, and for that reason ordered him to be beheaded in
prison.
Scoblant was first brought to his trial; when, persisting in the profession of
his faith, he received sentence of death. On his return to prison, he earnestly
requested the jailer not to permit any friar to come near him; saying, "They
can do me no good, but may greatly disturb me. I hope my salvation is
already sealed in heaven, and that the blood of Christ, in which I firmly put
my trust, hath washed me from my iniquities. I am now going to throw off
CHAPTER VIII. 261
Hues, soon after, died in prison; upon which occasion Coomans wrote thus
to his friends, "I am now deprived of my friends and companions; Scoblant
is martyred, and Hues dead, by the visitation of the Lord; yet I am not
alone, I have with me the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob; he is my
comfort, and shall be my reward. Pray unto God to strengthen me to the
end, as I expect every hour to be freed from this tenement of clay."
Nothing farther passed before dinner, but on the return of the prince and
princess through the same hall, after dinner was over, the assassin, standing
concealed as much as possible by one of the pillars, fired at the prince, the
balls entering at the left side, and passing through the right, wounding in
their passage the stomach and vital parts. On receiving the wounds, the
prince only said, Lord, have mercy upon my soul, and upon these poor
people, and then expired immediately.
The prince of Orange's funeral was the grandest ever seen in the Low
Countries, and perhaps the sorrow for his death the most sincere, as he left
behind him the character he honestly deserved, viz. that of Father of his
people.
CHAPTER IX.
The barbarities exercised were these: skinning alive, cutting off hands,
taking out the bowels, cutting the flesh open, putting out the eyes,
beheading, scalping, cutting off feet, boring the shin bones, pouring melted
lead into the flesh, hanging, stabbing, and sending to perpetual banishment.
The Russians, taking advantage of the devastations which had been made in
the country, and of its incapability of defence, entered it with a
considerable army, and, like a flood, bore down all before them. Every
thing they met with was an object of destruction; they razed cities,
demolished castles, ruined fortresses, sacked towns, burnt villages, and
murdered people. The ministers of the gospel were peculiarly marked out
as the objects of their displeasure, though every worthy christian was liable
to the effects of their cruelty.
sad condition. Let us hope for a deliverance from his mercy, and wish for
restitution in his benevolence. Though we are brought low, though we are
wasted, troubled, and terrified, yet his compassion is greater than our
calamities, and his goodness superior to our afflictions. Our neighbours
hate us at present, as much as our more distant enemies did before; they
persecute the remnant of us still remaining, deprive us of our few churches
left, banish our preachers, abuse our schoolmasters, treat us with contempt,
and oppress us in the most opprobrious manner. In all our afflictions the
truth of the gospel shone among us, and gave us comfort; and we only
wished for the grace of Jesus Christ, (not only to ourselves, but to soften
the hearts of our enemies) and the sympathy of our fellow christians."
Private persons were put to death by various methods; the most cruel being
usually preferred. Women were murdered without the least regard to their
sex; and the persecutors even went so far as to cut off the heads of sucking
babes, and fasten them to the breasts of the mothers.
Even the solemnity of the grave did not exempt the bodies of protestants
from the malice of persecutors; for they sacrilegiously dug up the bodies of
many eminent persons, and either cut them to pieces, and exposed them to
be devoured by birds and beasts, or hung them up in conspicuous or public
places.
CHAPTER X.
These three missionaries were very assiduous to the discharge of their duty;
but Roger and Pasis returning to Europe in a few years, the whole labour
fell upon Ricci, who aimed to establish christianity with a degree of zeal
that was indefatigable.
This was the condition of christianity in China, when the christian church
established there was governed only by Ricci, who, by his moderation,
made innumerable converts. In 1630, however, his tranquility was
disturbed by the arrival of some new missionaries, these being
unacquainted with the Chinese customs, manners, and language, and with
the arguments on which Ricci's toleration was founded, were astonished
when they saw christian converts prostrate before Confucius and the tables
of their ancestors, and condemned the custom accordingly.
The society soon pronounced, that the ceremonies were idolatrous and
intolerable, and the pope confirmed the sentence. In this both the society
and the pope were excusable, as the matter had been misrepresented to
them; for the enemies of Ricci had affirmed the halls, in which the
ceremonies were performed, to be temples, and the ceremonies themselves
idolatrous sacrifices.
The sentence above mentioned was sent over to China, but treated with
contempt, and matters remained as they were for some time. At length, a
true representation of the matter was sent over, setting forth, that the
Chinese customs and ceremonies alluded to were entirely free from
idolatry, being merely political, and tending only to the peace and welfare
of the empire. The pope, finding that he had made himself ridiculous, by
confirming an absurd sentence upon a false report, wanted to get rid of the
affair, and therefore referred the representation to the inquisition, which
reversed the sentence immediately, at the private desire of the pope, as may
be naturally supposed.
The christian church, for all these divisions, flourished in China till the
death of the first Tartar emperor, whose successor was a minor. During this
minority of the young emperor Cang-hi, the regents and nobles conspired to
extirpate the christian religion. The execution of this design was begun with
expedition, and carried on with severity, so that every christian teacher in
China, as well as those who professed the faith, were struck with
amazement. John Adam Schall, a German ecclesiastic, and one of the
principals of the mission, was thrown into a dungeon in the year 1664,
being then in the seventy-fourth year of his age, and narrowly escaped with
his life.
The ensuing year, viz. 1665, the ministers of state publicly and
unanimously resolved, and made a decree specifying, viz.
Four years after, viz. 1669, the young emperor was declared of age, and
took the reins of government upon himself, when the persecution
immediately ceased by his order.
This continued till the year 1616, when the missionaries being accused of
having concerned themselves in politics, and formed a plan to subvert the
government, and dethrone the emperor, great jealousies subsisted till 1622,
when the court ordered a dreadful persecution to commence against both
foreign and native christians. Such was the rage of this persecution, that,
during the first four years, no less than 20,570 christians were massacred.
The public profession of christianity was prohibited under pain of death,
and the churches were shut up by an express edict.
The Japanese army pursued the christians, and laid siege to the place. The
christians defended themselves with great bravery, and held out against the
besiegers for the space of three months, but were at length compelled to
surrender, when men, women and children, were indiscriminately
murdered; and christianity, in their martyrdoms, entirely extirpated from
Japan.
This event took place on the 12th of April, 1638, since which period no
christians but the Dutch are allowed to land in the empire, and even they
are obliged to conduct themselves with the greatest precaution, and to carry
on their commerce with the utmost circumspection.
Towards the conclusion of the fifteenth century, and soon after the
discovery of the Cape of Good Hope, some Portuguese missionaries made a
voyage to Abyssinia, and were indefatigable in propagating the Roman
catholic doctrine among the Abyssinians, who professed christianity before
the arrival of the missionaries.
Many of the most powerful lords, and a majority of the people who
professed the primitive christianity, as first established in Abyssinia,
opposed these innovations, and took up arms against the emperor.--Thus,
by the artifices of the court of Rome, and its emissaries, a most furious civil
war was begun, and the whole empire thrown into commotion. This war
was carried on through several reigns, its continuance being above 100
years, and the court constantly siding with the Roman catholics, the
primitive christians of Abyssinia were severely persecuted, and multitudes
perished by the most inhuman means.
CHAPTER X. 269
During the year 1529, Solyman the First retook Buda from the christians,
and showed the most horrible persecution of the inhabitants; some had their
eyes torn out, others their hands, ears, and noses cut off, and the children
their privities, the virgins were deflowered, the matrons had their breasts
CHAPTER X. 270
cut off, and such as were pregnant had their wombs ripped open, and their
unborn babes thrown into the flames. Not content with this, he repeated
these horrid examples all the way on his march to Vienna, which he
ineffectually besieged, during which, this diabolical barbarian, having made
a body of christians prisoners, he sent three of them into the city to relate
the great strength of his army, and the rest he ordered to be torn limb from
limb by wild horses in sight of their christian brethren, who could only
lament by their cries and tears their dreadful fate.
In many places the tender children were in sight of their wretched parents
torn to pieces by beasts, others dragged at horses' heels, some famished
with hunger, and others buried up to their necks in earth, and in that manner
left to perish. In short, were we to relate the innumerable massacres and
deplorable tragedies acted by the infidels, the particulars would at least
make a volume of themselves, and from their horrid similarity be not only
shocking, but disgusting to the reader.
The Georgians, are christians, and being very handsome people, the Turks
and Persians persecute them by the most cruel mode of taxation ever
invented, namely, in lieu of money, they compel them to deliver up their
children for the following purposes.
The males are used as mutes and eunuchs in the seraglio, as clerks in the
offices of state, and as soldiers in the army.
1. If they join any of the natives in open rebellion, they are strangled with a
bowstring, or hanged on an iron hook.
5. Those christians who attempt to escape from slavery, and are retaken,
suffer death in the following manner, which is equally singular and brutal:
the criminal is hung naked on a high gallows, by two hooks, the one
fastened quite through the palm of one hand, and the other through the sole
of the opposite foot, where he is left till death relieves him from his cruel
sufferings.
Other punishments, for trifling crimes committed by the christians, are left
to the discretion of the respective judges, who being usually of malicious
and vindictive dispositions, decree them in the most inhuman manner.
CHAPTER X. 272
Morocco and Fez conjointly form an empire, and are together the most
considerable of the Barbary states. In this empire christian slaves are treated
with the greatest cruelty: the rich have exorbitant ransoms fixed upon them;
the poor are hard worked, and half starved sometimes murdered by the
emperor, or their masters, for mere amusement.
The bloody tenets of the Roman catholic persuasion, and the cruel
disposition of the votaries of that church, cannot be more amply displayed
or truly depicted, than by giving an authentic and simple narrative of the
horrid barbarities exercised by the Spaniards on the innocent and
unoffending natives of America. Indeed, the barbarities were such, that they
would scarce seen credible from their enormity, and the victims so many,
that they would startle belief by their numbers, if the facts were not
indisputably ascertained, and the circumstances admitted by their own
writers, some of whom have even gloried in their inhumanity, and, as
Roman catholics, deemed these atrocious actions meritorious, which would
make a protestant shudder to relate.
The West Indies, and the vast continent of America, were discovered by
that celebrated navigator, Christopher Columbus, in 1492. This
distinguished commander landed first in the large island of St. Domingo, or
Hispaniola, which was at that time exceedingly populous, but this
population was of very little consequence, the inoffensive inhabitants being
murdered by multitudes, as soon as the Spaniards gained a permanent
footing on the island. Blind superstition, bloody bigotry, and craving
avarice, rendered that, in the course of years, a dismal desert, which, at the
arrival of the Spaniards, seemed to appear as an earthly paradise; so that at
present there is scarce a remnant of the ancient natives remaining.
CHAPTER X. 273
By repeated barbarities, and the most execrable cruelties, the vindictive and
merciless Spaniards not only depopulated Hispaniola, Porto-Rico, Cuba,
Jamaica, and the Bahama islands, but destroyed above 12,000,000 of souls
upon the continent of America, in the space of forty years.
The cruel methods by which they massacred and butchered the poor
natives, were innumerable, and of the most diabolical nature.
The Spaniards stripped a large and very populous town of all its
inhabitants, whom they drove to the mines, leaving all the children behind
them, without the least idea of providing for their subsistence, by which
inhuman proceeding six thousand helpless infants perished.
Whenever the people of any town had the reputation of being rich, an order
was immediately sent that every person in it should turn Roman catholics:
if this was not directly complied with, the town was instantly plundered,
and the inhabitants murdered; and if it was complied with, a pretence was
soon after made to strip the inhabitants of their wealth.
One of the Spanish governors seized upon a very worthy and amiable
Indian prince, and in order to extort from him where his treasures were
concealed, caused his feet to be burnt till the marrow dropped from his
bones, and he expired through the extremity of the torments he underwent.
In the interval, between the years 1514 and 1522, the governor of Terra
Firma put to death, and destroyed, 800,000 of the inhabitants of that
CHAPTER X. 274
country.
Between the years 1523 and 1533, five hundred thousand natives of
Nicaragua were transported to Peru, where they all perished by incessant
labour in the mines.
In the space of twelve years, from the first landing of Cortez on the
continent of America, to the entire reduction of the populous empire of
Mexico, the amazing number of 4,000,000 of Mexicans perished, through
the unparalleled barbarity of the Spaniards. To come to particulars, the city
of Cholula, consisted of 30,000 houses, by which its great population may
be imagined. The Spaniards seized on all the inhabitants, who refusing to
turn Roman catholics, as they did not know the meaning of the religion
they were ordered to embrace, the Spaniards put them all to death, cutting
to pieces the lower sort of people, and burning those of distinction.
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CHAPTER XI.
Gildas, the most ancient British writer extant, who lived about the time that
the Saxons left the island of Great Britain, has drawn a most shocking
instance of the barbarity of those people.
The Saxons, on their arrival, being heathens like the Scots and Picts,
destroyed the churches and murdered the clergy wherever they came: but
they could not destroy christianity, for those who would not submit to the
Saxon yoke, went and resided beyond the Severn. Neither have we the
names of those christian sufferers transmitted to us, especially those of the
clergy.
The most dreadful instance of barbarity under the Saxon government, was
the massacre of the monks of Bangor, A. D. 586. These monks were in all
respects different from those men who bear the same name at present.
In Fifeshire, in Scotland, they burnt many of the churches, and among the
rest that belonging to the Culdees, at St. Andrews. The piety of these men
made them objects of abhorrence to the Danes, who, wherever they went
singled out the christian priests for destruction, of whom no less than 200
were massacred in Scotland.
It was much the same in that part of Ireland now called Leinster, there the
Danes murdered and burnt the priests alive in their own churches; they
carried destruction along with them wherever they went, sparing neither
age nor sex, but the clergy were the most obnoxious to them, because they
ridiculed their idolatry, and persuaded their people to have nothing to do
with them.
In the reign of Edward III. the church of England was extremely corrupted
with errors and superstition; and the light of the gospel of Christ was
greatly eclipsed and darkened with human inventions, burthensome
ceremonies, and gross idolatry.
The first person who suffered in consequence of this cruel act was William
Santree, or Sawtree, a priest, who was burnt to death in Smithfield.
The next man who suffered under this bloody statute was Thomas Bradley,
a tailor, and a layman; and a letter having been tendered him, which he
refused, he was declared an obstinate heretic, and tied to the stake in
Smithfield; where he was burnt alive, rejoicing in the Lord his God.
The next person we read of who was tried upon this abominable statute,
was William Thorpe, a man of some knowledge, who adhered to all the
doctrines taught by Wickliffe. He was brought many times before
archbishop Arundel, and at last committed a close prisoner, where he died,
but in what manner cannot now be ascertained.
Much about the same time one Richard Turning was burnt alive in
Smithfield, and suffered with all that constancy, fortitude, and resignation,
which have so much distinguished the primitive christians.
Soon after, father Abraham suffered at Colchester, and with him John
Whaddon; both of whom died in a constant adherence to the truth of the
gospel. Milburn White and John Wade suffered also about the same time in
London.
was burnt alive on Tower-hill, for no other reason than that he embraced
and professed the doctrines of Wickliffe.
In the year 1431, Thomas Bagley, a priest, who had a living near Malden,
in Essex, was brought before the bishop of London, and being declared an
obstinate heretic, was condemned and burnt alive in Smithfield.
In the year 1430, Richard Wick, a priest, was burnt alive on Tower-hill, for
preaching the doctrines of Wickliffe.
April 28th, 1494, Joan Boughton, a lady of considerable rank, was burnt in
Smithfield for professing the doctrines of Wickliffe. This lady was a
widow, and no less than 80 years of age.
In 1498, the king being then at Canterbury, a priest was brought before
him, accused of heresy, who was immediately ordered to be burnt alive.
CHAPTER XI. 279
In the year 1499, one Badram, a pious man, was brought before the bishop
of Norwich, having been accused by some of the priests, with holding the
doctrines of Wickliffe. He confessed he did believe every thing that was
objected against him. For this, he was condemned as an obstinate heretic,
and a warrant was granted for his execution; accordingly he was brought to
the stake at Norwich, where he suffered with great constancy.
In 1506, one William Tilfrey, a pious man, was burnt alive at Amersham, in
a close called Stoneyprat, and at the same time, his daughter, Joan Clarke, a
married woman, was obliged to light the fagots that were to burn her father.
This year also one father Roberts, a priest, was convicted of being a Lollard
before the bishop of Lincoln, and burnt alive at Buckingham.
In 1507, one Thomas Norris was burnt alive for the testimony of the truth
of the gospel, at Norwich. This man was a poor, inoffensive, harmless
person, but his parish priest conversing with him one day conjectured he
was a Lollard. In consequence of this supposition he gave information to
the bishop, and Norris was apprehended.
In 1508, one Lawrence Guale, who had been kept in prison two years, was
burnt alive at Salisbury, for denying the real presence in the sacrament. It
appeared, that this man kept a shop in Salisbury and entertained some
Lollards in his house; for which he was informed against to the bishop; but
he abode by his first testimony, and was condemned to suffer as a heretic.
October 18, 1511, William Succling and John Bannister, who had formerly
recanted, returned again to the profession of the faith, and were burnt alive
CHAPTER XI. 280
in Smithfield.
In the year 1517, one John Brown, (who had recanted before in the reign of
Henry VII. and borne a fagot round St. Paul's,) was condemned by Dr.
Wonhaman, archbishop of Canterbury, and burnt alive at Ashford. Before
he was chained to the stake, the archbishop Wonhaman, and Yester, bishop
of Rochester, caused his feet to be burnt in a fire till all the flesh came off,
even to the bones. This was done in order to make him again recant, but he
persisted in his attachment to the truth to the last.
Much about this time one Richard Hunn, a merchant tailor of the city of
London, was apprehended, having refused to pay the priest his fees for the
funeral of a child; and being conveyed to the Lollards' Tower, in the palace
of Lambeth, was there privately murdered by some of the servants of the
archbishop.
September 24, 1518, John Stilincen, who had before recanted, was
apprehended, brought before Richard Fitz-James, bishop of London, and on
the 25th of October was condemned as a heretic. He was chained to the
stake in Smithfield amidst a vast crowd of spectators, and sealed his
testimony to the truth with his blood. He declared that he was a Lollard,
and that he had always believed the opinions of Wickliffe; and although he
had been weak enough to recant his opinions, yet he was now willing to
convince the world that he was ready to die for the truth.
In the year 1519, Thomas Mann was burnt in London, as was one Robert
Celin, a plain honest man for speaking against image worship and
pilgrimages.
In 1521, Thomas Bernard was burnt alive at Norwich, for denying the real
presence.
Robert Silks, who had been condemned in the bishop's court as a heretic,
made his escape out of prison, but was taken two years afterward, and
brought back to Coventry, where he was burnt alive.--The sheriffs always
seized the goods of the martyrs for their own use, so that their wives and
children were left to starve.
In 1532, Thomas Harding, who with his wife, had been accused of heresy,
was brought before the bishop of Lincoln, and condemned for denying the
real presence in the sacrament. He was then chained to a stake, erected for
the purpose, at Chesham in the Pell, near Botely; and when they had set fire
to the fagots, one of the spectators dashed out his brains with a billet. The
priests told the people, that whoever brought fagots to burn heretics would
have an indulgence to commit sins for forty days.
For this he was brought before the bishop a second time, and condemned to
death. Before he went to the stake he confessed his adherence to those
opinions which Luther held; and, when at it, he smiled, and said, "I have
had many storms in this world, but now my vessel will soon be on shore in
heaven." He stood unmoved in the flames, crying out, "Jesus, I believe;"
and these were the last words he was heard to utter.
A few weeks after Bilney had suffered, Richard Byfield was cast into
prison, and endured some whipping, for his adherence to the doctrines of
Luther: this Mr. Byfield had been some time a monk, at Barnes, in Surry,
but was converted by reading Tindal's version of the New Testament. The
sufferings this man underwent for the truth were so great, that it would
require a volume to contain them. Sometimes he was shut up in a dungeon,
where he was almost suffocated, by the offensive and horrid smell of filth
and stagnated water. At other times he was tied up by the arms, till almost
all his joints were dislocated. He was whipped at the post several times, till
scarce any flesh was left on his back; and all this was done to make him
recant. He was then taken to the Lollard's Tower in Lambeth palace, where
he was chained by the neck to the wall, and once every day beaten in the
most cruel manner by the archbishop's servants. At last he was condemned,
degraded, and burnt in Smithfield.
The next person that suffered was John Tewkesbury. This was a plain
simple man, who had been guilty of no other offence against what was
called the holy mother church, than that of reading Tindal's translation of
the New Testament. At first he was weak enough to abjure, but afterwards
repented, and acknowledged the truth. For this he was brought before the
bishop of London, who condemned him as an obstinate heretic. He suffered
greatly during the time of his imprisonment, so that when they brought him
out to execution he was almost dead. He was conducted to the stake in
Smithfield, where he was burned, declaring his utter abhorrence of popery,
CHAPTER XI. 283
and professing a firm belief that his cause was just in the sight of God.
Much about this time Valentine Treest, and his wife, were apprehended in
Yorkshire, and having been examined by the archbishop, were deemed as
obstinate heretics, and burnt.
The next person that suffered in this reign, was James Baynham, a
reputable citizen in London, who had married the widow of a gentleman in
the Temple. When chained to the stake he embraced the fagots, and said
"Oh, ye papists, behold! ye look for miracles; here now may you see a
miracle; for in this fire I feel no more pain than if I were in bed; for it is as
sweet to me as a bed of roses." Thus he resigned his soul into the hands of
his Redeemer.
In the year 1533, John Frith, a noted martyr, died for the truth. When
brought to the stake in Smithfield, he embraced the fagots, and exhorted a
young man named Andrew Hewit, who suffered with him, to trust his soul
to that God who had redeemed it. Both these sufferers endured much
torment, for the wind blew the flames away from them, so that they were
above two hours in agony before they expired.
At the latter end of this year, Mr. Thomas Bennet, a school-master, was
apprehended at Exeter, and being brought before the bishop, refused to
recant his opinions, for which he was delivered over to the secular power,
and burned alive near that city.
In the year 1538, one Collins, a madman, suffered death with his dog in
Smithfield. The circumstances were as follow: Collins happened to be in
church when the priest elevated the host; and Collins, in derision of the
sacrifice of the Mass, lifted up his dog above his head. For this crime
Collins, who ought to have been sent to a madhouse, or whipped at the
CHAPTER XI. 284
cart's tail, was brought before the bishop of London; and although he was
really mad, yet such was the force of popish power, such the corruption in
church and state, that the poor madman, and his dog, were both carried to
the stake in Smithfield, where they were burned to ashes, amidst a vast
crowd of spectators.
There were some other persons who suffered the same year, of whom we
shall take notice in the order they lie before us.
About the same time one Purderve was put to death, for saying privately to
a priest, after he had drunk the wine, "He blessed the hungry people with
the empty chalice."
At the same time was condemned William Letton, a monk of great age, in
the county of Suffolk, who was burned at Norwich for speaking against an
idol that was carried in procession; and for asserting, that the sacrament
should be administered in both kinds.
Some time before the burning of these men, Nicholas Peke was executed at
Norwich; and when the fire was lighted, he was so scorched that he was as
black as pitch. Dr. Reading standing before him, with Dr. Hearne and Dr.
Spragwell, having a long white wand in his hand, struck him upon the right
shoulder, and said, "Peke, recant, and believe in the Sacrament." To this he
answered, "I despise thee and it also;" and with great violence he spit
blood, occasioned by the anguish of his sufferings. Dr. Reading granted
forty days indulgence for the sufferer, in order that he might recant his
opinions. But he persisted in his adherence to the truth, without paying any
regard to the malice of his enemies; and he was burned alive, rejoicing that
Christ had counted him worthy to suffer for his name's sake.
On July 28, 1540, or 1541, (for the chronology differs) Thomas Cromwell,
earl of Essex, was brought to a scaffold on Tower-hill, where he was
CHAPTER XI. 285
It is, we think, with great propriety, that this nobleman is ranked among the
martyrs; for although the accusations preferred against him did not relate to
any thing in religion, yet had it not been for his zeal to demolish popery, he
might have to the last retained the king's favour. To this may be added, that
the papists plotted his destruction, for he did more towards promoting the
reformation, than any man in that age, except the good Dr. Cranmer.
Being before the bishop of London, Dr. Barnes was asked whether the
saints prayed for us? To this he answered, that he would leave that to God;
but (said he) I will pray for you.
On the 13th of July, 1541, these men were brought from the Tower to
Smithfield, where they were all chained to one stake; and there suffered
death with a constancy that nothing less than a firm faith in Jesus Christ
could inspire.
One Thomas Sommers, an honest merchant, with three others, was thrown
into prison, for reading some of Luther's books; and they were condemned
to carry those books to a fire in Cheapside; there they were to throw them
in the flames; but Sommers threw his over, for which he was sent back to
the Tower, where he was stoned to death.
Anthony Parsons, a priest, together with two others, were sent to Windsor,
to be examined concerning heresy; and several articles were tendered to
them to subscribe, which they refused. This was carried on by the bishop of
Salisbury, who was the most violent persecutor of any in that age, except
Bonner. When they were brought to the stake, Parsons asked for some
drink, which being brought him, he drank to his fellow-sufferers, saying,
"Be merry, my brethren, and lift up your hearts to God; for after this sharp
breakfast I trust we shall have a good dinner in the kingdom of Christ, our
Lord and Redeemer." At these words Eastwood, one of the sufferers, lifted
up his eyes and hands to heaven, desiring the Lord above to receive his
spirit. Parsons pulled the straw near to him, and then said to the spectators,
This is God's armour, and now I am a christian soldier prepared for battle: I
look for no mercy but through the merits of Christ; he is my only Saviour,
in him do I trust for salvation; and soon after the fires were lighted, which
burned their bodies, but could not hurt their precious and immortal souls.
Their constancy triumphed over cruelty, and their sufferings will be held in
everlasting remembrance.
This year one Kirby was burned in Ipswich, for the testimony of the truth,
for denying the real presence in the sacrament. When this martyr was
brought to the stake, he said to one Mr. Wingfield, who attended him, "Ah!
Mr. Wingfield, be at my death, and you shall say, there standeth a christian
sufferer in the fire."
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CHAPTER XII.
The first person we meet with who suffered in Scotland on the score of
religion, was one Patrick Hamilton, a gentleman of an independent fortune,
and descended from a very ancient and honourable family.
The archbishop of St. Andrews (who was a rigid papist) hearing of Mr.
Hamilton's proceedings, caused him to be seized, and being brought before
him, after a short examination relative to his religious principles, he
committed him a prisoner to the castle, at the same time ordering him to be
confined in the most loathsome part of the prison.
The next morning Mr. Hamilton was brought before the bishop, and several
others, for examination, when the principal articles exhibited against him
were, his publicly disapproving of pilgrimages, purgatory, prayers to saints,
for the dead, &c.
So anxious was this bigoted and persecuting prelate for the destruction of
Mr. Hamilton, that he ordered his sentence to be put in execution on the
afternoon of the very day it was pronounced. He was accordingly led to the
place appointed for the horrid tragedy, and was attended by a prodigious
number of spectators. The greatest part of the multitude would not believe
it was intended he should be put to death, but that it was only done to
frighten him, and thereby bring him over to embrace the principles of the
Romish religion. But they soon found themselves mistaken.
When he arrived at the stake, he kneeled down, and, for some time, prayed
with great fervency. After this he was fastened to the stake, and the fagots
placed round him. A quantity of gunpowder having been placed under his
arms was first set on fire which scorched his left hand and one side of his
face, but did no material injury, neither did it communicate with the fagots.
In consequence of this, more powder and combustible matter were brought,
which being set on fire took effect, and the fagots being kindled, he called
out, with an audible voice, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit! How long shall
darkness overwhelm this realm? And how long wilt thou suffer the tyranny
of these men?"
The fire burning slow put him to great torment; but he bore it with christian
magnanimity. What gave him the greatest pain was, the clamour of some
wicked men set on by the friars, who frequently cried, "Turn, thou heretic;
call upon our lady; say, Salve Regina, &c." To whom he replied, "Depart
from me, and trouble me not, ye messengers of Satan." One Campbell, a
friar, who was the ringleader, still continuing to interrupt him by
opprobrious language; he said to him, "Wicked man, God forgive thee."
After which, being prevented from farther speech by the violence of the
smoke, and the rapidity of the flames, he resigned up his soul into the hands
of Him who gave it.
Hamilton a good man; and that the articles for which he was sentenced to
die, might be defended. This being revealed by the friar, it was received as
evidence; and the poor Benedictine was sentenced to be burnt.
Whilst consultation was held, with regard to the manner of his execution,
John Lindsay, one of the archbishop's gentlemen, offered his advice, to
burn friar Forest in some cellar; for, said be, the smoke of Patrick Hamilton
hath infected all those on whom it blew.
This advice was taken, and the poor victim was rather suffocated than
burnt.
The next who fell victims for professing the truth of the gospel, were David
Stratton and Norman Gourlay.
When they arrived at the fatal spot, they both kneeled down, and prayed for
some time with great fervency. They then arose, when Stratton, addressing
himself to the spectators, exhorted them to lay aside their superstitious and
idolatrous notions, and employ their time in seeking the true light of the
gospel. He would have said more, but was prevented by the officers who
attended.
Their sentence was then put into execution, and they cheerfully resigned up
their souls to that God who gave them, hoping, through the merits of the
great Redeemer, for a glorious resurrection to life immortal. They suffered
in the year 1534.
age.
These two persons, after being some time confined in prison, were brought
before the archbishop for examination. In the course of which, Russel,
being a very sensible man, reasoned learnedly against his accusers; while
they in return made use of very opprobrious language.
The examination being over, and both of them deemed heretics, the
archbishop pronounced the dreadful sentence of death, and they were
immediately delivered over to the secular power in order for execution.
The next day they were led to the place appointed for them to suffer; in
their way to which, Russel, seeing his fellow-sufferer have 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 be light; but our joy and consolation shall never
have an end. Let us, therefore, strive to enter into our Master and Saviour's
joy, by the same straight way which he hath taken before us. Death cannot
hurt us, for it is already destroyed by Him, for whose sake we are now
going 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.
In 1543, the archbishop of St. Andrews made a visitation into various parts
of his diocese, where several persons were informed against at Perth for
heresy. Among these the following were condemned to die, viz. William
Anderson, Robert Lamb, James Finlayson, James Hunter, James Raveleson,
and Helen Stark.
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
CHAPTER XII. 291
the principal matter on which they were condemned was, having regaled
themselves with a goose on fast day.
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 cap.
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.
The four men, with the woman and child, suffered at the same time, but
James Raveleson was not executed till some days after.
An Account of the Life, Sufferings, and death of Mr. George Wishart, who
was strangled and afterward burned, in Scotland, for professing the Truth
of the Gospel.
himself for his great learning and abilities, both in philosophy and divinity.
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 up his degrees, he entered into holy orders, and
expounded the gospel in so clear and intelligible a manner, as highly to
delight his numerous auditors.
Being desirous of propagating the true gospel in his own country he left
Cambridge in 1544, and on his arrival in Scotland he first preached at
Montrose, and afterwards at Dundee. In this last place he made a public
exposition of the epistle to the Romans, which he went through with such
grace and freedom, as greatly alarmed the papists.
This sudden rebuff greatly surprised Wishart, who, after a short pause,
looking sorrowfully on the speaker and the audience, said, "God is my
witness, that I never minded your trouble but your comfort; yea, your
trouble is more grievous to me than it is to yourselves: but I am assured, to
refuse God's word, and to chase from you his messenger, shall not preserve
you from trouble, but shall bring you into it: for God shall send you
ministers that shall fear neither burning nor banishment. I have offered you
the word of salvation. With the hazard of my life, I have remained among
you; now you yourselves refuse me; and I must leave my innocence to be
declared by my God. If it be long prosperous with you, I am not led by the
spirit of truth: but if unlooked-for trouble come upon you, acknowledge the
cause and turn to God, who is gracious and merciful. But if you turn not at
the first warning, he will visit you with fire and sword." At the close of this
speech he left the pulpit, and retired.
CHAPTER XII. 293
After this he went into the west of Scotland, where he preached God's
word, which was gladly received by many.
A short time after this, Mr. Wishart received intelligence, that the plague
was broke out in Dundee. It began four days after he was prohibited from
preaching there, and raged so extremely, that it was almost beyond credit
how many died in the space of twenty-four hours. This being related to
him, he, notwithstanding the importunity of his friends to detain him,
determined to go there, saying, "They are now in troubles, and need
comfort. Perhaps this hand of God will make them now to magnify and
reverence the word of God, which before they lightly esteemed."
Here he was with joy received by the godly. He chose the eastgate for the
place of his preaching; so that the healthy were within, and the sick without
the gate. He took his text from these words, He sent his word and healed
them, &c. In this sermon he chiefly dwelt upon the advantage and comfort
of God's word, the judgments that ensue upon the contempt or 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 he should have such comfort 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 comforted 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."
It is said, that before he left Dundee, and while he was engaged in the
labours of love to the bodies, as well as to the souls, of those poor afflicted
CHAPTER XII. 294
Soon after his return to Montrose, the cardinal again conspired his death,
causing a letter to be sent to him as if it had been from his familiar friend,
the Laird of Kennier, in which he was desired with all possible speed to
come to him, as he was taken with a sudden sickness. In the mean time the
cardinal had provided sixty men armed to lie in wait within a mile and a
half of Montrose, in order to murder him as he passed that way.
The letter coming to Wishart's hand by a boy, who also brought him a horse
for the journey. Wishart, accompanied by some honest men, his friends, set
forward; but something particular striking his mind by the way, he returned
back, which they wondering at, asked him the cause; to whom he said, "I
will not go; I am forbidden of God; I am assured there is treason. Let some
of you go to yonder place, and tell me what you find." Which doing, they
made the discovery; and hastily returning, they told Mr. Wishart;
whereupon he said, "I know I shall end my life by that blood-thirsty man's
hands, but it will not be in this manner."
night he got up, and went into the yard, which two men hearing they
privately followed him.
While in the yard, he fell on his knees, and prayed for some time with the
greatest fervency, after which he arose, and returned to his bed. Those who
attended him, appearing as though they were 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 countenance, said, "I had rather you had been in
your beds." But they still pressing upon him to know something, he said, "I
will tell you; I am assured that my warfare is near at an end, and therefore
pray to God with me, that I shrink not when the battle waxeth most hot."
On the morning of his execution there came to him two friars from the
cardinal; one of whom put on him a black linen coat, and the other brought
several bags of gunpowder, which they tied about different parts of his
body.
CHAPTER XII. 296
As soon as he arrived at the stake, the executioner put a rope round his
neck, and a chain about his middle; upon which he fell on his knees and
thus exclaimed:
"O thou Saviour of the world, have mercy upon me! Father of heaven, I
commend my spirit into Thy holy hands."
After this he prayed for his accusers, saying, "I beseech thee, Father of
heaven, forgive them that have, from ignorance or an evil mind, forged lies
of me: I forgive them with all my heart. I beseech Christ to forgive them,
that have ignorantly condemned me."
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 martyr, in a few words, to be of good cheer, and to ask
the pardon of God for his offences. To which he replied, "This flame
occasions trouble to my body, indeed, but it hath in nowise 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." Which prediction was soon after
fulfilled. The executioner then pulled the rope which was tied about his
neck with great violence, so that he was soon strangled; and the fire getting
strength, burnt with such rapidity that in less than an hour his body was
totally consumed.
The next person who fell a martyr to popish bigotry, was one Adam
Wallace, of Winton, in East-Lothian, 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 information was laid
against him for heresy, on which he was apprehended, and committed to
prison.
CHAPTER XII. 297
After examination, sentence of death was passed upon him as heretic; and
he was immediately delivered over 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
steadfast in the faith he professed, and used such forcible arguments in
vindication of the gospel, that they left him with some wrath, saying, "He
was too abandoned to receive any impression."
The last who suffered martyrdom in Scotland, for the cause of Christ, was
one Walter Mill, 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, in the time of cardinal Beaton, he was forced to
abandon his charge and abscond. But he was soon apprehended, and
committed to prison.
his religious sentiments with such courage, and at the same time composure
of mind, as astonished even his enemies. As soon as he was fastened to the
stake, and the fagots lighted, he addressed the spectators as follows:
The cause why I suffer this day is not for any crime, (though I acknowledge
myself a miserable sinner) but only for the defence of the truth as it is in
Jesus Christ; and I praise God who hath called me, by his mercy, to seal the
truth with my life; which, as I received it from him, so I willingly and
joyfully offer it up to his glory. Therefore, as you would escape eternal
death, be no longer seduced by the lies of the seat of Antichrist: but depend
solely on Jesus Christ, and his mercy, that you may be delivered from
condemnation. And then added, "That he trusted he should be the last who
would suffer death in Scotland upon a religious account."
Thus did this pious christian cheerfully give up his life, in defence of the
truth of Christ's gospel, not doubting but he should be made a partaker of
his heavenly kingdom.
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CHAPTER XII.
The premature death of that celebrated young monarch, Edward the Sixth,
occasioned the most extraordinary and wonderful occurrences, which had
ever existed from the times of our blessed Lord and Saviour's incarnation in
human shape. This melancholy event became speedily a subject of general
regret. The succession to the British throne was soon made a matter of
contention; and the scenes which ensued were a demonstration of the
serious affliction which the kingdom was involved in. As his loss to the
nation was more and more unfolded, the remembrance of his government
was more and more the basis of grateful recollection. The very awful
prospect, which was soon presented to the friends of Edward's
administration, under the direction of his counsellors and servants, was a
contemplation which the reflecting mind was compelled to regard with
most alarming apprehensions. The rapid approaches which were made
towards a total reversion of the proceedings of the young king's reign,
denoted the advances which were thereby represented to an entire
revolution in the management of public affairs both in church and state.
Alarmed for the condition in which the kingdom was likely to be involved
by the king's death, an endeavour to prevent the consequences, which were
but too plainly foreseen, was productive of the most serious and fatal
effects. The king, in his long and lingering affliction, was induced to make
a will, by which he bequeathed the English crown to lady Jane, the
daughter of the duke of Suffolk, who had been married to the lord Guilford,
the son of the duke of Northumberland, and was the grand-daughter of the
second sister of king Henry, by Charles, duke of Suffolk. By this will, the
succession of Mary and Elizabeth, his two sisters, was entirely superseded,
from an apprehension of the returning system of popery; and the king's
council, with the chief of the nobility, the lord-mayor of the city of London,
and almost all the judges and the principal lawyers of the realm, subscribed
their names to this regulation, as a sanction to the measure. Lord chief
justice Hale, though a true protestant and an upright judge, alone declined
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to unite his name in favour of the lady Jane, because he had already
signified his opinion, that Mary was entitled to assume the reins of
government. Others objected to Mary's being placed on the throne, on
account of their fears that she might marry a foreigner, and thereby bring
the crown into considerable danger. Her partiality to popery also left little
doubt on the minds of any, that she would be induced to revive the dormant
interests of the pope, and change the religion which had been used both in
the days of her father, king Henry, and in those of her brother Edward: for
in all his time she had manifested the greatest stubbornness and inflexibility
of temper, as must be obvious from her letter to the lords of the council,
whereby she put in her claim to the crown, on her brother's decease.
When this happened, the nobles, who had associated to prevent Mary's
succession, and had been instrumental in promoting, and, perhaps, advising
the measures of Edward, speedily proceeded to proclaim lady Jane Gray, to
be queen of England, in the city of London and various other populous
cities of the realm. Though young, she possessed talents of a very superior
nature, and her improvements under a most excellent tutor had given her
many very great advantages.
Her reign was of only five days continuance, for Mary, having succeeded
by false promises in obtaining the crown, speedily commenced the
execution of her avowed intention of extirpating and burning every
protestant. She was crowned at Westminister in the usual form, and her
elevation was the signal for the commencement of the bloody persecution
which followed.
Having obtained the sword of authority, she was not sparing in its exercise.
The supporters of Lady Jane Gray were destined to feel its force. The duke
of Northumberland was the first who experienced her savage resentment.
Within a month after his confinement in the Tower, he was condemned,
and brought to the scaffold, to suffer as a traitor. From his various crimes,
resulting out of a sordid and inordinate ambition, he died unpitied and
unlamented.
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The words and behaviour of the lady Jane upon the Scaffold.
The next victim was the amiable lady Jane Gray, who, by her acceptance of
the crown at the earnest solicitations of her friends, incurred the implacable
resentment of the bloody Mary. When she first mounted the scaffold, she
spake to the spectators in this manner: Good people, I am come hither to
die, and by a law I am condemned to the same. The fact against the queen's
highness was unlawful, and the consenting thereunto by me: but, touching
the procurement and desire thereof by me, or on my behalf, I do wash my
hands thereof in innocency before God, and the face of you, good christian
people, this day: and therewith she wrung her hands, wherein she had her
book. Then said she, I pray you all, good christian people, to bear me
witness, that I die a good christian woman, and that I do look to be saved
by no other mean, but only by the mercy of God in the blood of his only
Son Jesus Christ: and I confess, that when I did know the word of God, I
neglected the same, loved myself and the world, and therefore this plague
and punishment is happily and worthily happened unto me for my sins; and
yet I thank God, that of his goodness he hath thus given me a time and a
respite to repent and now, good people, while I am alive, I pray you assist
me with your prayers. And then, kneeling down, she turned to Feckenham,
CHAPTER XII. 302
saying, Shall I say this psalm? and he said, Yea. Then she said the psalm of
Miserere mei Deus, in English, in a most devout manner throughout to the
end; and then she stood up, and gave her maid, Mrs. Ellen, her gloves and
handkerchief, and her book to Mr. Bruges; and then she untied her gown,
and the executioner pressed upon her to help her off with it: but she,
desiring him to let her alone, turned towards her two gentlewomen, who
helped her off therewith, and also with her frowes, paaft, and neckerchief,
giving to her a fair handkerchief to put about her eyes.
Then the executioner kneeled down, and asked her forgiveness whom she
forgave most willingly. Then he desired her to stand upon the straw, which
doing, she saw the block. Then she said, I pray you despatch me quickly.
Then she kneeled down, saying, Will you take it off before I lay me down?
And the executioner said, No madam. Then she tied a handkerchief about
her eyes, and feeling for the block, she said, What shall I do? Where is it?
Where is it? One of the standers-by guiding her thereunto, she laid her head
upon the block, and then stretched forth her body, and said, Lord, into thy
hands I commend my spirit; and so finished her life, in the year of our Lord
1554, the 12th day of February, about the 17th year of her age.
Thus died the Lady Jane; and on the same day the lord Guilford, her
husband, one of the duke of Northumberland's sons, was likewise
beheaded, two innocents in comparison of them that sat upon them. For
they were both very young, and ignorantly accepted that which others had
contrived, and by open proclamation consented to take from others, and
give to them.
On the 21st day of the same month, Henry, duke of Suffolk, was beheaded
on Tower-hill, the fourth day after his condemnation: about which time
many gentlemen and yeomen were condemned, whereof some were
executed at London, and some in the country. In the number of whom was
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the lord Thomas Gray, brother to the said duke, being apprehended not long
after in North-Wales, and executed for the same. Sir Nicholas
Throgmorton, also, very narrowly escaped.
John Rogers, Vicar of St. Sepulchre's, and Reader of St. Paul's, London.
John Rogers was educated at Cambridge, and was afterward many years
chaplain to the merchants adventurers at Antwerp in Brabant. Here he met
with the celebrated martyr William Tindal, and Miles Coverdale, both
voluntary exiles from their country for their aversion to popish superstition
and idolatry. They were the instruments of his conversion; and he united
with them in that translation of the Bible into English, entitled "The
Translation of Thomas Matthew." From the scriptures he knew that
unlawful vows may be lawfully broken; hence he married, and removed to
Wittenberg in Saxony, for the improvement of learning; and he there
learned the Dutch language, and received the charge of a congregation,
which he faithfully executed for many years. On king Edward's accession,
he left Saxony, to promote the work of reformation in England; and, after
some time, Nicholas Ridley, then bishop of London, gave him a prebend in
St. Paul's Cathedral, and the dean and chapter appointed him reader of the
divinity lesson there. Here he continued until queen Mary's succession to
the throne, when the gospel and true religion were banished, and the
Antichrist of Rome, with his superstition and idolatry, introduced.
induce him to depart and, when once called to answer in Christ's cause, he
stoutly defended it, and hazarded his life for that purpose.
After long imprisonment in his own house, the restless Bonner, bishop of
London, caused him to be committed to Newgate, there to be lodged among
thieves and murderers.
After Mr. Rogers had been long and straitly imprisoned, and lodged in
Newgate among thieves, often examined, and very uncharitably entreated,
and at length unjustly and most cruelly condemned by Stephen Gardiner,
bishop of Winchester: the 4th of February, in the year of our Lord 1555,
being Monday in the morning, he was suddenly warned by the keeper of
Newgates's wife, to prepare himself for the fire; who, being then sound
asleep, could scarce be awaked. At length being raised and awaked, and bid
to make haste, Then said he, if it be so, I need not tie my points. And so
was had down, first to bishop Bonner to be degraded: which being done, he
craved of Bonner but one petition; and Bonner asking what that should be?
Mr. Rogers replied, that he might speak a few words with his wife before
his burning. But that could not be obtained of him.
the blessed company that suffered in Queen Mary's time that gave the first
adventure upon the fire. His wife and children, being eleven in number, ten
able to go, and one sucking at her breast, met him by the way, as he went
towards Smithfield: this sorrowful sight of his own flesh and blood could
nothing move him but that he constantly and cheerfully took his death with
wonderful patience, in the defence and quarrel of the gospel of Christ."
Mr. Saunders after passing some time in the school of Eaton, was chosen to
go to King's college in Cambridge, where he continued three years, and
profited in knowledge and learning very much for that time shortly after he
quitted the university, and went to his parents, but soon returned to
Cambridge again to his study, where he began to add to the knowledge of
the Latin, the study of the Greek and Hebrew tongues, and gave himself up
to the study of the holy scriptures, the better to qualify himself for the
office of preacher.
In the beginning of king Edward's reign, when God's true religion was
introduced, after license obtained, he began to preach, and was so well
liked of them who then had authority, that they appointed him to read a
divinity lecture in the college of Fothringham. The college of Fothringham
being dissolved, he was placed to be a reader in the minster at Litchfield.
After a certain space, he departed from Litchfield to a benefice in
Leicestershire, called Church-langton, where he held a residence, taught
diligently, and kept a liberal house. Thence he was orderly called to take a
benefice in the city of London, namely, All-hallows in Bread-street.--After
this he preached at Northampton, nothing meddling with the state, but
boldly uttering his conscience against the popish doctrines which were
likely to spring up again in England, as a just plague for the little love
which the English nation then bore to the blessed word of God, which had
been so plentifully offered unto them.
The queen's party, who were there, and heard him, were highly displeased
with him for his sermon, and for it kept him among them as a prisoner. But
partly for love of his brethren and friends, who were chief actors for the
CHAPTER XII. 306
queen among them, partly because there was no law broken by his
preaching, they dismissed him.
In the afternoon of Sunday, Oct. 15, 1554, as he was reading in his church
to exhort his people, the bishop of London interrupted him, by sending an
officer for him.
His treason and sedition the bishop's charity was content to let slip until
another time, but a heretic he meant to prove him, and all those, he said,
who taught and believed that the administration of the sacraments, and all
orders of the church, are the most pure, which come the nearest to the order
of the primitive church.
After much talk concerning this matter, the bishop desired him to write
what he believed of transubstantiation. Laurence Saunders did so, saying,
"My Lord, you seek my blood, and you shall have it: I pray God that you
may be so baptised in it that you may ever after loathe blood-sucking, and
become a better man." Upon being closely charged with contumacy, the
severe replies of Mr. Saunders to the bishop, (who had before, to get the
favour of Henry VIII. written and set forth in print, a book of true
obedience, wherein he had openly declared queen Mary to be a bastard) so
irritated him, that he exclaimed, Carry away this frenzied fool to prison.
After this good and faithful martyr had been kept in prison one year and a
quarter, the bishops at length called him, as they did his fellow-prisoners,
openly to be examined before the queen's council.
His examination being ended, the officers led him out of the place, and
staid until the rest of his fellow-prisoners were likewise examined, that they
might lead them all together to prison.
CHAPTER XII. 307
After his excommunication and delivery over to the secular power, he was
brought by the sheriff of London to the Compter, a prison in his own parish
of Bread-street, at which he rejoiced greatly, both because he found there a
fellow-prisoner, Mr. Cardmaker, with whom he had much christian and
comfortable discourse; and because out of prison, as before in his pulpit, he
might have an opportunity of preaching to his parishioners. The 4th of
February, Bonner, bishop of London, came to the prison to degrade him;
the day following, in the morning the sheriff of London delivered him to
certain of the queen's guard, who were appointed to carry him to the city of
Coventry, there to be burnt.
When they had arrived at Coventry, a poor shoemaker, who used to serve
him with shoes, came to him, and said, O my good master, God strengthen
and comfort you. Good shoemaker, Mr. Saunders replied, I desire thee to
pray for me, for I am the most unfit man for this high office, that ever was
appointed to it; but my gracious God and dear Father is able to make me
strong enough. The next day, being the 8th of February, 1555, he was led to
the place of execution, in the park, without the city; he went in an old gown
and a shirt, bare-footed, and oftentimes fell flat on the ground, and prayed.
When he was come nigh to the place, the officer, appointed to see the
execution done, said to Mr. Saunders, that he was one of them who married
the queen's realm, but if he would recant, there was pardon for him. "Not I,"
replied the holy martyr, "but such as you have injured the realm. The
blessed gospel of Christ is what I hold; that do I believe, that have I taught,
and that will I never revoke!" Mr. Saunders then slowly moved towards the
fire, sank to the earth and prayed; he then rose up, embraced the stake, and
frequently said, "Welcome, thou cross of Christ! welcome everlasting life!"
Fire was then put to the fagots, and, he was overwhelmed by the dreadful
flames, and sweetly slept in the Lord Jesus.
John Hooper, student and graduate in the university of Oxford, was stirred
with such fervent desire to the love and knowledge of the scriptures, that he
was compelled to remove from thence, and was retained in the house of Sir
CHAPTER XII. 308
Thomas Arundel, as his steward, till Sir Thomas had intelligence of his
opinions and religion, which he in no case did favour, though he
exceedingly favoured his person and condition, and wished to be his friend.
Mr. Hooper now prudently left Sir Thomas' house and arrived at Paris, but
in a short time returned into England, and was retained by Mr. Sentlow, till
the time that he was again molested and sought for, when he passed
through France to the higher parts of Germany; where, commencing
acquaintance with learned men, he was by them free and lovingly
entertained, both at Basil, and especially at Zurich, by Mr. Bullinger, who
was his singular friend; here also he married his wife, who was a
Burgonian, and applied very studiously to the Hebrew tongue.
At length, when God saw it good to stay the bloody time of the six articles,
and to give us king Edward to reign over this realm, with some peace and
rest unto the church, amongst many other English exiles, who then repaired
homeward, Mr. Hooper also, moved in conscience, thought not to absent
himself, but seeing such a time and occasion, offered to help forward the
Lord's work, to the uttermost of his ability.
When Mr. Hooper had taken his farewell of Mr. Bullinger, and his friends
in Zurich, he repaired again into England in the reign of king Edward the
Sixth, and coming to London, used continually to preach, most times twice,
or at least once a day.
Having preached before the king's majesty, he was soon after made bishop
of Gloucester. In that office he continued two years, and behaved himself
so well, that his very enemies could find no fault with him, and after that he
CHAPTER XII. 309
Dr. Hooper executed the office of a most careful and vigilant pastor for the
space of two years and more, so long as the state of religion in king
Edward's time was sound and flourishing.
After he had been cited to appear before Bonner and Dr. Heath, he was led
to the Council, accused falsely of owing the queen money, and in the next
year, 1554, he wrote an account of his severe treatment during near
eighteen months' confinement to the Fleet, and after his third examination,
January 28, 1555, at St. Mary Overy's, he, with the Rev. Mr. Rogers, was
conducted to the Compter in Southwark, there to remain till the next day at
nine o'clock, to see whether they would recant. Come, brother Rogers, said
Dr. Hooper, must we two take this matter first in hand, and begin to fry in
these fagots? Yes, Doctor, said Mr. Rogers, by God's grace. Doubt not, said
Dr. Hooper, but God will give us strength; and the people so applauded
their constancy, that they had much ado to pass.
January 29, bishop Hooper was degraded and condemned, and the Rev. Mr.
Rogers was treated in like manner. At dark, Dr. Hooper was led through the
city to Newgate; notwithstanding this secrecy, many people came forth to
their doors with lights, and saluted him, praising God for his constancy.
On Feb. 7th, he came to Gloucester, about five o'clock, and lodged at one
Ingram's house. After his first sleep, he continued in prayer until morning;
and all the day, except a little time at his meals, and when conversing with
such as the guard kindly permitted to speak to him, he spent in prayer.
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Sir Anthony Kingston, at one time Doctor Hooper's good friend, was
appointed by the queen's letters to attend at his execution. As soon as he
saw the bishop he burst into tears. With tender entreaties he exhorted him
to live. "True it is," said the bishop, "that death is bitter, and life is sweet:
but alas! consider that the death to come is more bitter, and the life to come
is more sweet."
The same day a blind boy obtained leave to be brought into Dr. Hooper's
presence. The same boy, not long before, had suffered imprisonment at
Gloucester for confessing the truth. "Ah! poor boy," said the bishop,
"though God hath taken from thee thy outward sight, for what reason he
best knoweth, yet he hath endued thy soul with the eye of knowledge and of
faith. God give thee grace continually to pray unto him, that thou lose not
that sight, for then wouldst thou indeed be blind both in body and soul."
About eight o'clock, on February 9, 1555, he was led forth, and many
thousand persons were collected, as it was market-day. All the way, being
straitly charged not to speak, and beholding the people who mourned
bitterly for him, he would sometimes lift up his eyes towards heaven, and
look very cheerfully upon such as he knew: and he was never known,
during the time of his being among them, to look with so cheerful and
ruddy a countenance as he did at that time. When he came to the place
appointed where he should die, he smilingly beheld the stake and
preparation made for him, which was near unto the great elm-tree over
against the college of priests, where he used to preach.
Now, after he had entered into prayer, a box was brought and laid before
him upon a stool, with his pardon from the queen, if he would turn. At the
sight whereof he cried, If you love my soul away with it. The box being
taken away, lord Chandois said, Seeing there is no remedy, despatch him
CHAPTER XII. 311
quickly.
Command was now given that the fire should be kindled. But because there
were not more green fagots than two horses could carry, it kindled not
speedily, and was a pretty while also before it took the reeds upon the
fagots. At length it burned about him, but the wind having full strength at
that place, and being a lowering cold morning, it blew the flame from him,
so that he was in a manner little more than touched by the fire.
Within a space after, a few dry fagots were brought, and a new fire kindled
with fagots, (for there were no more reeds) and those burned at the nether
parts, but had small power above, because of the wind, saving that it burnt
his hair, and scorched his skin a little. In the time of which fire, even as at
the first flame, he prayed, saying mildly, and not very loud, but as one
without pain, O Jesus, Son of David, have mercy upon me, and receive my
soul! After the second fire was spent, he wiped both his eyes with his
hands, and beholding the people, he said with an indifferent loud voice, For
God's love, good people, let me have more fire! and all this while his nether
parts did burn; but the fagots were so few, that the flame only singed his
upper parts.
The third fire was kindled within a while after, which was more extreme
than the other two. In this fire he prayed with a loud voice, Lord Jesus,
have mercy upon me! Lord Jesus receive my spirit! And these were the last
words he was heard to utter. But when he was black in the mouth, and his
tongue so swollen that he could not speak, yet his lips went till they were
shrunk to the gums: and he knocked his breast with his hands until one of
his arms fell off, and then knocked still with the other, while the fat, water,
and blood dropped out at his fingers' ends, until by renewing the fire, his
strength was gone, and his hand clave fast in knocking to the iron upon his
breast. Then immediately bowing forwards, he yielded up his spirit.
canon law.
Dr. Taylor promoted the interest of the great Redeemer, and the souls of
mankind, both by his preaching and example, during the time of king
Edward VI. but on his demise, and the succession of queen Mary to the
throne, he escaped not the cloud that burst on so many beside; for two of
his parishioners, Foster, an attorney, and Clark, a tradesman, out of blind
zeal, resolved that mass should be celebrated, in all its superstitious forms,
in the parish church of Hadley, on Monday before Easter; this Dr. Taylor,
entering the church, strictly forbade; but Clark forced the Doctor out of the
church, celebrated mass, and immediately informed the lord-chancellor,
bishop of Winchester of his behaviour, who summoned him to appear, and
answer the complaints that were alleged against him.
The doctor upon the receipt of the summons, cheerfully prepared to obey
the same; and rejected the advice of his friends to fly beyond sea. When
Gardiner saw Dr. Taylor, he, according to his common custom, reviled him.
Dr. Taylor heard his abuse patiently, and when the bishop said, How darest
thou look me in the face! knowest thou not who I am? Dr. Taylor replied,
You are Dr. Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, and lord-chancellor,
and yet but a mortal man. But if I should be afraid of your lordly looks,
why fear ye not God, the Lord of us all? With what countenance will you
appear before the judgment-seat of Christ, and answer to your oath made
first unto king Henry the Eighth, and afterward unto king Edward the Sixth,
his son?
bench.
When Dr. Taylor came there, he found the virtuous and vigilant preacher of
God's word, Mr. Bradford; who equally thanked God that he had provided
him with such a comfortable fellow-prisoner; and they both together
praised God, and continued in prayer, reading and exhorting one another.
After that Dr. Taylor had lain some time in prison, he was cited to appear in
the arches of Bow-church.
Dr. Taylor being condemned, was committed to the Clink, and the keepers
were charged to treat him roughly; at night he was removed to the Poultry
Compter.
When Dr. Taylor had lain in the Compter about a week, on the 4th of
February, Bonner came to degrade him, bringing with him such ornaments
as appertained to the massing mummery; but the Doctor refused these
trappings till they were forced upon him.
The night after he was degraded, his wife came with John Hull, his servant,
and his son Thomas, and were by the gentleness of the keepers permitted to
sup with him.
After supper, walking up and down, he gave God thanks for his grace, that
had so called him and given him strength to abide by his holy word and
turning to his son Thomas, he exhorted him to piety and filial obedience in
the most earnest manner.
Dr. Taylor, about two o'clock in the morning, was conveyed to the
Woolpack, Aldgate, and had an affecting interview with his wife and
daughter, and a female orphan he had brought up who had waited all night
in St. Botolph's porch, to see him pass, before being delivered to the sheriff
of Essex. On coming out of the gates, John Hull, his good servant, stood at
the rails with Thomas, (Dr. Taylor's son.) This, said he, is my own son.
Then he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and prayed for his son and blessed
him.
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At Chelmsford the sheriff of Suffolk met them, there to receive him, and to
carry him into Suffolk. Being at supper, the sheriff of Essex very earnestly
besought him to return to the popish religion, thinking with fair words to
persuade him. When they had all drunk to him, and the cup was come to
him, he said, Mr. Sheriff, and my masters all, I heartily thank you for your
good will. I have hearkened to your words, and marked well your counsels.
And to be plain with you, I perceive that I have been deceived myself, and
am like to deceive a great many in Hadley of their expectations. At these
words they all rejoiced, but the Doctor had a meaning very remote from
theirs. He alluded to the disappointment that the worms would have in not
being able to feast upon his portly and goodly body, which they would have
done if, instead of being burnt, he had been buried.
When the sheriff and his company heard him speak thus, they were amazed,
marvelling at the constant mind that could thus without fear make a jest of
the cruel torments and death now at hand, prepared for him. At Chelmsford
he was delivered to the sheriff of Suffolk, and by him conducted to Hadley.
His head had been notched and clipped like as a man would clip a fool's;
which cost the good bishop Bonner had bestowed upon him. But when the
people saw his reverend and ancient face, with a long white beard, they
burst out with weeping tears, and cried, saying, God save thee, good Dr.
Taylor! Jesus Christ strengthen thee, and help thee! the Holy Ghost comfort
thee! with such other like good wishes.
When he had prayed, he went to the stake and kissed it, and set himself into
a pitch barrel, which they had put for him to stand in, and stood with his
back upright against the stake, with his hands folded together, and his eyes
CHAPTER XII. 315
They then bound him with the chains, and having set up the fagots, one
Warwick cruelly cast a fagot at him which struck him on his head, and cut
his face, so that the blood ran down. Then said Dr. Taylor, O friend, I have
harm enough, what needed that?
Sir John Shelton standing by, as Dr. Taylor was speaking, and saying the
psalm Miserere in English, struck him on the lips: You knave, said he,
speak Latin: I will make thee. At last they kindled the fire; and Dr. Taylor
holding up both his hands, calling upon God, and said, Merciful Father of
heaven! for Jesus Christ, my Saviour's sake, receive my soul into thy
hands! So he stood still without either crying or moving, with his hands
folded together, till Soyce, with a halberd struck him on the head till his
brains fell out, and the corpse fell down into the fire.
Thus rendered up this man of God his blessed soul into the hands of his
merciful Father, and to his most dear Saviour Jesus Christ, whom he most
entirely loved, faithfully and earnestly preached, obediently followed in
living, and constantly glorified in death.
Under his confinement, he was treated by the bishop not only unbecoming
a prelate, but even a man; for the savage, because Tomkins would not
assent to the doctrine of transubstantiation, bruised him in the face, and
plucked off the greatest part of the hair of his beard.
wicks, supposing that, being terrified by the smart and pain of the fire, he
would leave off the defence of the doctrine which he had received.
After undergoing two examinations, and refusing to swerve from his duty
and belief, he was commanded to appear before the bishop.
William Hunter had been trained to the doctrines of the reformation from
his earliest youth, being descended from religious parents, who carefully
instructed him in the principles of the true religion.
Upon this the bishop commanded his men to put William in the stocks in
his gate-house, where he sat two days and nights, with a crust of brown
bread and a cup of water only, which he did not touch.
At the two days' end, the bishop came to him, and finding him steadfast in
the faith, sent him to the convict prison, and commanded the keeper to lay
irons upon him as many as he could bear. He continued in prison three
quarters of a year, during which time he had been before the bishop five
times, besides the time when he was condemned in the consistory in St.
Paul's, February 9th, at which time his brother, Robert Hunter, was present.
Then the bishop, calling William, asked him if he would recant, and finding
he was unchangeable, he pronounced sentence upon him, that he should go
from that place to Newgate for a time, and thence to Brentwood, there to be
burned.
William now cast his psalter into his brother's hand, who said William,
think on the holy passion of Christ, and be not afraid of death. Behold,
answered William, I am not afraid. Then he lifted up his hands to heaven,
and said, Lord, Lord, Lord, receive my spirit and casting down his head
again into the smothering smoke, he yielded up his life for the truth, sealing
it with his blood to the praise of God.
About the same time William Pygot, Stephen Knight, and Rev. John
Lawrence, were burnt as heretics, by order of the infamous Bonner.
Thomas Higbed and Thomas Causton shared the same fate.
This worthy and learned prelate, the bishop of St. David's in Wales, having
in the former reign, as well as since the accession of Mary, been
remarkably zealous to promoting the reformed doctrines, and exploding the
errors of popish idolatry, was summoned, among others, before the
persecuting bishop of Winchester, and other commissioners set apart for the
abominable work of devastation and massacre.
Dr. Farrar, being condemned and degraded, was not long after brought to
the place of execution in the town of Carmathen, in the market-place of
which, on the south side of the market-cross, March 30, 1555, being
Saturday next before Passion-Sunday, he most constantly sustained the
torments of the fire.
Concerning his constancy, it is said that one Richard Jones, a knight's son,
coming to Dr. Farrar a little before his death, seemed to lament the
CHAPTER XII. 319
Rawlins White.
Rawlins White was by his calling and occupation a fisherman, living and
continuing in the said trade for the space of twenty years at least, in the
town of Cardiff, where he bore a very good name amongst his neighbours.
Though the good man was altogether unlearned, and withal very simple, yet
it pleased God to remove him from error and idolatry to a knowledge of the
truth, through the blessed reformation in Edward's reign. He had his son
taught to read English, and after the little boy could read pretty well, his
father every night after supper, summer and winter, made the boy read a
portion of the holy scriptures, and now and then a part of some other good
book.
When he had continued in his profession the space of five years, king
Edward died, upon whose decease queen Mary succeeded and with her all
kind of superstition crept in. White was taken by the officers of the town, as
a man suspected of heresy, brought before the bishop Llandaff, and
committed to prison in Chepstow, and at last removed to the castle of
Cardiff, where he continued for the space of one whole year. Being brought
before the bishop in his chapel, he counselled him by threats and promises.
But as Rawlins would in nowise recant his opinions, the bishop told him
plainly, that he must proceed against him by law, and condemn him as a
heretic.
Before they proceeded to this extremity, the bishop proposed that prayer
should be said for his conversion. "This," said White, "is like a godly
bishop, and if your request be godly and right, and you pray as you ought,
no doubt God will hear you; pray you, therefore, to your God, and I will
pray to my God." After the bishop and his party had done praying, he asked
CHAPTER XII. 320
Rawlins if he would now revoke. "You find," said the latter, "your prayer is
not granted, for I remain the same; and God will strengthen me in support
of this truth." After this, the bishop tried what saying mass would do; but
Rawlins called all the people to witness that he did not bow down to the
host. Mass being ended Rawlins was called for again; to whom the bishop
used many persuasions; but the blessed man continued so steadfast to his
former profession, that the bishop's discourse was to no purpose.--The
bishop now caused the definitive sentence to be read, which being ended,
Rawlins was carried again to Cardiff, to a loathsome prison in the town,
called Cockmarel, where he passed his time in prayer, and in singing of
psalms. In about three weeks, the order came from town for his execution.
When he came to the place, where his poor wife and children stood
weeping, the sudden sight of them so pierced his heart, that the tears
trickled down his face. Being come to the altar of his sacrifice, in going
towards the stake, he fell down upon his knees, and kissed the ground; and
in rising again, a little earth sticking on his face, he said these words, Earth
unto earth, and dust unto dust; thou art my mother, and unto thee I shall
return.
When all things were ready, directly over against the stake, in the face of
Rawlins White, there was a standing erected, whereon stept up a priest,
addressing himself to the people, but, as he spoke of the Romish doctrines
of the sacraments, Rawlins cried out, Ah, thou wicked hypocrite, dost thou
presume to prove thy false doctrine by scripture? Look in the text that
followeth; did not Christ say, "Do this in remembrance of me?"
Then some that stood by cried out, put fire! set on fire! which being done,
the straw and reeds cast up a great and sudden flame. In which flame this
good man bathed his hands so long, until such time as the sinews shrank,
and the fat dropped away, saving that once he did, as it were, wipe his face
with one of them. All this while, which was somewhat long, he cried with a
loud voice, O Lord, receive my spirit! until he could not open his mouth. At
last the extremity of the fire was so vehement against his legs, that they
were consumed almost before the rest of his body was hurt, which made the
whole body fall over the chain into the fire sooner than it would have done.
CHAPTER XII. 321
Thus died this good old man for his testimony of God's truth, and is now
rewarded, no doubt, with the crown of eternal life.
Being confined by Dr. Coles, the bishop of Chester, within the precincts of
his own house, he was kept from any intercourse with his friends during
four months: his friends and mother, earnestly wished him to have flown
from "the wrath to come;" but Mr. Marsh thought that such a step would ill
agree with that profession he had during nine years openly made. He,
however, secreted himself, but he had much struggling, and in secret prayer
begged that God would direct him, through the advice of his best friends,
for his own glory and to what was best. At length, determined, by a letter
he received, boldly to confess the faith of Christ, he took leave of his
mother-in-law and other friends, recommending his children to their care
and departed for Smethehills, whence he was, with others, conducted to
Lathum, to undergo examination before the Earl of Derby, Sir William
Nores Mr. Sherburn, the parson of Grapnal, and others. The various
questions put to him he answered with a good conscience, but when Mr.
Sherburn interrogated him upon his belief of the sacrament of the altar, Mr.
Marsh answered like a true Protestant, that the essence of the bread and
wine was not at all changed, hence, after receiving dreadful threats from
some, and fair words from others, for his opinions, he was remanded to
ward, where he lay two nights without any bed.--On Palm Sunday he
underwent a second examination, and Mr. Marsh much lamented that his
fear should at all have induced him to prevaricate, and to seek his safety, so
long as he did not openly deny Christ; and he again cried more earnestly to
God for strength that he might not be overcome by the subtleties of those
CHAPTER XII. 322
After that, he began to speak to the people, showing the cause of his death,
and would have exhorted them to stick unto Christ, but one of the sheriffs
prevented him. Kneeling down, he then said his prayers, put off his clothes
unto his shirt, and was chained to the post, having a number of fagots under
him, and a thing made like a firkin, with pitch and tar in it, over his head.
The fire being unskilfully made, and the wind driving it in eddies, he
suffered great extremity, which notwithstanding he bore with Christian
fortitude.
When he had been a long time tormented in the fire without moving,
having his flesh so broiled and puffed up, that they who stood before him
could not see the chain wherewith he was fastened, and therefore supposed
that he had been dead, suddenly he spread abroad his arms, saying. Father
of heaven have mercy upon me! and so yielded his spirit into the hands of
the Lord. Upon this, many of the people said he was a martyr and died
CHAPTER XII. 323
gloriously patient. This caused the bishop shortly after to make a sermon in
the cathedral church, and therein he affirmed, that the said Marsh was a
heretic, burnt as such, and was a firebrand in hell.--Mr. Marsh suffered
April 24, 1555.
Mr. Flower, for this injudicious zeal, was heavily ironed, and put into the
gatehouse at Westminster; and afterward summoned before bishop Bonner
and his ordinary, where the bishop, after he had sworn him upon a book,
ministered articles and interrogations to him.
CHAPTER XII. 324
After examination, the bishop began to exhort him again to return to the
unity of his mother the catholic church, with many fair promises. These Mr.
Flower steadfastly rejecting, the bishop ordered him to appear in the same
place in the afternoon, and in the mean time to consider well his former
answer; but he, neither apologizing for having struck the priest, nor
swerving from his faith, the bishop assigned him the next day, April 20th,
to receive sentence, if he would not recant. The next morning, the bishop
accordingly proceeded to the sentence, condemning and excommunicating
him for a heretic, and after pronouncing him to be degraded, committed
him to the secular power.
April 24, St. Mark's eve, he was brought to the place of martyrdom, in St.
Margaret's churchyard, Westminster, where the fact was committed: and
there coming to the stake, he prayed to Almighty God, made a confession
of his faith, and forgave all the world.
This done, his hand was held up against the stake, and struck off, his left
hand being fastened behind him. Fire was then set to him and he burning
therein, cried with it loud voice, O thou Son of God, have mercy upon me!
O thou Son of God, receive my soul! three times; his speech being now
taken from him, he spoke no more, but notwithstanding he lifted up the
stump with his other arm as long as he could.
Thus he endured the extremity of the fire, and was cruelly tortured for the
few fagots that were brought being insufficient to burn him, they were
compelled to strike him down into the fire, where lying along upon the
ground, his lower part was consumed in the fire, whilst his upper part was
little injured, his tongue moving in his mouth for a considerable time.
May 30, 1555, the Rev. John Cardmaker, otherwise called Taylor,
prebendary of the church of Wells, and John Warne, upholsterer, of St.
John's, Walbrook, suffered together in Smithfield. Mr. Cardmaker, who
first was an observant friar before the dissolution of the abbeys, afterward
was a married minister, and in King Edward's time appointed to be reader
CHAPTER XII. 325
Articles having been preferred against Mr. John Warne, he was examined
upon them by Bonner, who earnestly exhorted him to recant his opinions.
To whom he answered, I am persuaded that I am in the right opinion, and I
see no cause to recant; for all the filthiness and idolatry lies in the church of
Rome.
The bishop then, seeing that all his fair promises and terrible threatenings
could not prevail, pronounced the definitive sentence of condemnation, and
ordered the 30th of May, 1555, for the execution of John Cardmaker and
John Warne, who were brought by the sheriffs to Smithfield. Being come to
the stake, the sheriffs called Mr. Cardmaker aside, and talked with him
secretly, during which Mr. Warne prayed, was chained to the stake, and had
wood and reeds set about him.
The people were greatly afflicted, thinking that Mr. Cardmaker would
recant at the burning of Mr. Warne. At length Mr. Cardmaker departed
from the sheriffs, and came towards the stake, knelt down, and made a long
prayer in silence to himself. He then arose up, put off his clothes to his
shirt, and went with a bold courage unto the stake and kissed it; and taking
Mr. Warne by the hand, he heartily comforted him, and was bound to the
stake, rejoicing. The people seeing this so suddenly done, contrary to their
previous expectation, cried out, God be praised! the Lord strengthen thee,
Cardmaker! the Lord Jesus receive thy spirit! And this continued while the
executioner put fire to them, and both had passed through the fire to the
blessed rest and peace among God's holy saints and martyrs, to enjoy the
crown of triumph and victory prepared for the elect soldiers and warriors of
Christ Jesus in his blessed kingdom, to whom be glory and majesty for
ever. Amen.
John Simpson and John Ardeley were condemned on the same day with
Mr. Cardmaker and John Warne, which was the 25th of May. They were
shortly after sent down from London to Essex, where they were burnt in
one day, John Simpson at Rochford, and John Ardeley at Railey, glorifying
God in his beloved Son, and rejoicing that they were accounted worthy to
suffer.
Mr. Thomas Haukes, with six others, were condemned on the 9th of
February, 1555. In education he was erudite; in person, comely and of good
stature; in manners, a gentleman, and a sincere Christian. A little before
death, several of Mr. H's. friends, terrified by the sharpness of the
punishment he was going to suffer, privately desired that in the midst of the
flames he would show them some token, whether the pains of burning were
so great that a man might not collectedly endure it. This he promised to do;
and it was agreed, that if the rage of the pain might he suffered, then he
should lift up his hands above his head towards heaven, before he gave up
the ghost.
Not long after, Mr. Haukes was led away to the place appointed for
slaughter, by lord Rich, and being come to the stake, mildly and patiently
prepared himself for the fire, having a strong chain cast about his middle,
with a multitude of people on every side compassing him about. Unto
whom after he had spoken many things, and poured out his soul unto God,
the fire was kindled.
When he had continued long in it, and his speech was taken away by
violence of the flame, his skin drawn together, and his fingers consumed
with the fire, so that it was thought that he was gone, suddenly and contrary
to all expectation, this good man being mindful of his promise, reached up
his hands burning in flames over his head to the living God, and with great
rejoicings as it seemed, struck or clapped them three times together. A great
shout followed this wonderful circumstance, and then this blessed martyr of
Christ, sinking down in the fire, gave up his spirit, June 10, 1555.
CHAPTER XII. 327
Being consigned over to the bloody bishop, who gave him several hearings,
and, as usual, many arguments, with much entreaty, that he would be a
disciple of antichrist, but his preaching availed not, and he resorted to his
last revenge--that of condemnation.
At the stake, after he had kissed it, he spake to lord Rich, charging him to
repent, for the Lord would revenge his death. Thus did this good martyr
offer his body to the fire, in defence of the true gospel of the Saviour.
He continued several years in an honest and thriving way; but the Lord had
elected him to a better function. Hence he departed from his master,
quitting the Temple, at London, for the university of Cambridge, to learn,
by God's law, how to further the building of the Lord's temple. In a few
years after, the university gave him the degree of master of arts, and he
became a fellow of Pembroke Hall.
CHAPTER XII. 328
Martin Bucer first urged him to preach, and when he modestly doubted his
ability, Bucer was wont to reply, If thou hast not fine wheat bread, yet give
the poor people barley bread, or whatsoever else the Lord hath committed
unto thee. Dr. Ridley, that worthy bishop of London, and glorious martyr of
Christ, first called him to take the degree of a deacon and gave him a
prebend in his cathedral church of St. Paul.
In this preaching office Mr. Bradford diligently laboured for the space of
three years. Sharply he reproved sin, sweetly he preached Christ crucified,
ably he disproved heresies and errors, earnestly he persuaded to godly life.
After the death of blessed king Edward VI. Mr. Bradford still continued
diligent in preaching, till he was suppressed by queen Mary. An act now
followed of the blackest ingratitude, and at which a Pagan would blush. It
has been recited, that a tumult was occasioned by Mr. Bourne's (then
bishop of Bath) preaching at St. Paul's Cross; the indignation of the people
placed his life in imminent danger; indeed a dagger was thrown at him. In
this situation he entreated Mr. Bradford, who stood behind him, to speak in
his place, and assuage the tumult. The people welcomed Mr. Bradford, and
the latter afterward kept close to him, that his presence might prevent the
populace from renewing their assaults.
The same Sunday in the afternoon, Mr. Bradford preached at Bow church
in Cheapside, and reproved the people sharply for their seditious
misdemeanor. Notwithstanding this conduct, within three days after, he was
sent for to the tower of London, where the queen then was, to appear before
the council. There he was charged with this act of saving Mr. Bourne,
which was called seditious, and they also objected against him for
preaching. Thus he was committed, first to the Tower, then to other prisons,
and, after his condemnation, to the Poultry Compter, where he preached
twice a day continually, unless sickness hindered him. Such was his credit
with the keeper of the king's Bench, that he permitted him in an evening to
visit a poor, sick person near the Steel-yard, upon his promise to return in
time, and in this he never failed.
The night before he was sent to Newgate, he was troubled in his sleep by
foreboding dreams, that on Monday after he should be burned in
CHAPTER XII. 329
Smithfield. In the afternoon the keeper's wife came up and announced this
dreadful news to him, but in him it excited only thankfulness to God. At
night, half a dozen friends came, with whom he spent all the evening in
prayer and godly exercises.
Mr. Bradford, being come to the place, fell flat on the ground, secretly
making his prayers to Almighty God. Then, rising again, and putting off his
clothes unto the shirt, he went to the stake, and there suffered with a young
man of twenty years of age, whose name was John Leaf, an apprentice to
Mr. Humphry Gaudy, tallow-chandler, of Christ-church, London. Upon
Friday before Palm Sunday, he was committed to the Compter in
Bread-street, and afterward examined and condemned by the bloody
bishop.
It is reported of him, that, when the bill of his confession was read unto
him, instead of pen, he took a pin, and pricking his hand, sprinkled the
blood upon the said bill, desiring the reader thereof to show the bishop that
he had sealed the same bill with his blood already.
They both ended this mortal life, July 12th, 1555, like two lambs, without
any alteration of their countenances, hoping to obtain that prize they had
long run for; to which may Almighty God conduct us all, through the
merits of Christ our Saviour! We shall conclude this article with
mentioning, that Mr. Sheriff Woodroffe, it is said, within half a year after,
was struck on the right side with a palsy and for the space of eight years
after, (till his dying day) he was unable to turn himself in his bed; thus he
became at last a fearful object to behold.
CHAPTER XII. 330
The day after Mr. Bradford and John Leaf suffered in Smithfield, William
Minge, priest, died in prison at Maidstone. With as great constancy and
boldness he yielded up his life in prison, as if it had pleased God to have
called him to suffer by fire, as other godly men had done before at the
stake, and as he himself was ready to do, had it pleased God to have called
him to this trial.
Rev. John Bland, Rev. John Frankesh, Nicholas Shetterden, and Humphrey
Middleton.
These Christian persons were all burnt at Canterbury for the same cause.
Frankesh and Bland were ministers and preachers of the word of God, the
one being parson of Adesham, and the other vicar of Rolvindon. Mr. Bland
was cited to answer for his opposition to antichristianism, and underwent
several examinations before Dr. Harpsfield, archdeacon of Canterbury, and
finally on the 25th of June, 1555, again withstanding the power of the pope,
he was condemned, and delivered to the secular arm. On the same day were
condemned, John Frankesh, Nicholas Shetterden, Humphrey Middleton,
Thacker, and Cocker, of whom Thacker only recanted.
Being delivered to the secular power, Mr. Bland, with the three former,
were all burnt together at Canterbury, July 12, 1555, at two several stakes,
but in one fire, when they, in the sight of God and his angels, and before
men, like true soldiers of Jesus Christ, gave a constant testimony to the
truth of his holy gospel.
The same month of July, Nicholas Hall, bricklayer, and Christopher Waid,
linendraper, of Dartford, suffered death, condemned by Maurice, bishop of
Rochester, about the last day of June, 1555. At the same time three others
were condemned, whose names were Joan Beach, widow, John Harpol, of
Rochester, and Margery Polley.
Dirick Carver was a man whom the Lord had blessed as well with temporal
riches as with his spiritual treasures. At his coming into the town of Lewes
to be burnt, the people called to him, beseeching God to strengthen him in
the faith of Jesus Christ; and, as he came to the stake, he knelt down, and
prayed earnestly. Then his book was thrown into the barrel, and when he
had stripped himself, he went into it. As soon as he was in, he took the
book, and threw it among the people, upon which the sheriff commanded,
in the name of the king and queen, on pain of death, to throw in the book
again.--And immediately the holy martyr began to address the people. After
he had prayed awhile, he said, "O Lord my God, thou hast written, he that
will not forsake wife, children, house, and every thing that he hath, and take
up thy cross and follow thee, is not worthy of thee!--but thou, Lord,
knowest that I have forsaken all to come unto thee Lord have mercy upon
me, for unto thee I commend my spirit! and my soul doth rejoice in thee!"
These were the last words of this faithful servant of Christ before enduring
the fire. And when the fire came to him, he cried, "O Lord have mercy
upon me!" and sprang up in the fire, calling upon the name of Jesus, till he
gave up the ghost.
John Aleworth, who died in prison at Reading, July, 1555, had been
imprisoned for the sake of the truth of the gospel.
James Abbes. This young man wandered about to escape apprehension, but
was at last informed against, and brought before the bishop of Norwich,
who influenced him to recant; to secure him further in apostasy, the bishop
afterward gave him a piece of money; but the interference of Providence is
here remarkable. This bribe lay so heavily upon his conscience, that he
returned, threw back the money, and repented of his conduct. Like Peter, he
was contrite, steadfast in the faith, and sealed it with his blood at Bury,
CHAPTER XII. 332
Mr. Denley and Newman were returning one day to Maidstone, the place of
their abode, when they were met by E. Tyrrel, Esq. a bigoted justice of the
peace in Essex, and a cruel persecutor of the protestants. He apprehended
them merely on suspicion. On the 5th of July, 1555, they were condemned,
and consigned to the sheriffs, who sent Mr. Denley to Uxbridge, where he
perished, August the 8th, 1555. While suffering in agony, and singing a
psalm, Dr. Story inhumanly ordered one of the tormentors to throw a fagot
at him, which cut his face severely, caused him to cease singing, and to
raise his hands to his face. Just as Dr. Story was remarking in jest that he
had spoiled a good song, the pious martyr again chanted, spread his hands
abroad in the flames, and through Christ Jesus resigned his soul into the
hands of his Maker.
Mr. Packingham suffered at the same town on the 28th of the same month.
Mr. Newman, pewterer, was burnt at Saffron Waldon, in Essex, Aug. 31,
for the same cause, and Richard Hook about the same time perished at
Chichester.
These persons all of Kent, were examined at the same time with Mr. Bland
and Shetterden, by Thornton, bishop of Dover, Dr. Harpsfield, and others.
These six martyrs and witnesses of the truth were consigned to the flames
in Canterbury, at the end of August, 1555.
George Tankerfield, of London, cook, born at York, aged 27, in the reign of
Edward VI. had been a papist; but the cruelty of bloody Mary made him
suspect the truth of those doctrines which were enforced by fire and torture.
CHAPTER XII. 333
Rev. Robert Smith was first in the service of Sir T. Smith, provost of Eton;
and was afterward removed to Windsor, where he had a clerkship of ten
pounds a year.
Mr. Stephen Harwood and Mr. Thomas Fust suffered about the same time
with Smith and Tankerfield, with whom they were condemned. Mr.
William Hale, also, of Thorp, in Essex, was sent to Barnet, where about the
same time he joined the ever-blessed company of Martyrs.
George King, Thomas Leyes, and John Wade, falling sick in Lollard's
Tower, were removed to different houses, and died. Their bodies were
thrown out in the common fields as unworthy of burial, and lay till the
faithful conveyed them away by night.
Roger Coo, was an aged man, and brought before the bishop of Norwich
for contumacy, by whom he was condemned Aug. 12, 1555, and suffered in
the following month at Yoxford, in Suffolk.
These five worthies, denying the real presence in the eucharist, were
brought before Dr. Thornton, bishop of Dover, and condemned as heretics.
They suffered in one fire, Sept. 6, 1555, at Canterbury, enduring all things
for their faith in Christ Jesus.
CHAPTER XII. 335
About the same time William Glowd, Cornelius Bungey, William Wolsey,
and Robert Pygot, suffered martyrdom.
These reverend prelates suffered October 17, 1555, at Oxford, on the same
day Wolsey and Pygot perished at Ely. Pillars of the church and
accomplished ornaments of human nature, they were the admiration of the
realm, amiably conspicuous in their lives, and glorious in their deaths.
manor at Fulham, always invited her to his house, placed her at the head of
his table, and treated her like his own mother; he did the same by Bonner's
sister and other relatives; but when Dr. Ridley was under persecution,
Bonner pursued a conduct diametrically opposite, and would have
sacrificed Dr. Ridley's sister and her husband, Mr. George Shipside, had not
Providence delivered him by the means of Dr. Heath, bishop of Worcester.
Dr. Ridley was first in part converted by reading Bertram's book on the
sacrament, and by his conferences with archbishop Cranmer and Peter
Martyr. When Edward VI. was removed from the throne, and the bloody
Mary succeeded, bishop Ridley was immediately marked as an object of
slaughter. He was first sent to the Tower, and afterward, at Oxford, was
consigned to the common prison of Bocardo, with archbishop Cranmer and
Mr. Latimer. Being separated from them, he was placed in the house of one
Irish, where he remained till the day of his martyrdom, from 1554, till
October 16, 1555. It will easily be supposed that the conversations of these
chiefs of the martyrs were elaborate, learned, and instructive. Such indeed
they were, and equally beneficial to all their spiritual comforts. Bishop
Ridley's letters to various Christian brethren in bonds in all parts, and his
disputations with the mitred enemies of Christ, alike prove the clearness of
his head and the integrity of his heart. In a letter to Mr. Grindal, (afterward
archbishop of Canterbury,) he mentions with affection those who had
preceded him in dying for the faith, and those who were expected to suffer;
he regrets that popery is re-established in its full abomination, which he
attributes to the wrath of God, made manifest in return for the
lukewarmness of the clergy and the people in justly appreciating the
blessed light of the reformation.
Mr. Latimer at this time traced out the innocence of a poor woman, accused
by her husband of the murder of her child. Having preached before king
Henry VIII. at Windsor, he obtained the unfortunate mother's pardon. This,
with many other benevolent acts, served only to excite the spleen of his
adversaries. He was summoned before Cardinal Wolsey for heresy, but
being a strenuous supporter of the king's supremacy, in opposition to the
pope's, by favour of lord Cromwell and Dr. Buts, (the king's physician,) he
obtained the living of West Kingston, in Wiltshire. For his sermons here
against purgatory, the immaculacy of the Virgin, and the worship of
images, he was cited to appear before Warham, archbishop of Canterbury,
and John, bishop of London. He was required to subscribe certain articles,
expressive of his conformity to the accustomed usages; and there is reason
to think, after repeated weekly examinations, that he did subscribe, as they
did not seem to involve any important article of belief. Guided by
Providence, he escaped the subtle nets of his persecutors, and at length,
CHAPTER XII. 338
Mr. Latimer, after remaining a long time in the Tower, was transported to
Oxford, with Cranmer and Ridley, the disputations at which place have
been already mentioned in a former part of this work. He remained
imprisoned till October, and the principal objects of all his prayers were
three--that he might stand faithful to the doctrine he had professed, that
God would restore his gospel to England once again, and preserve the Lady
CHAPTER XII. 339
Dr. Ridley, the night before execution, was very facetious, had himself
shaved, and called his supper a marriage feast; he remarked upon seeing
Mrs. Irish (the keeper's wife) weep, "though my breakfast will be somewhat
sharp, my supper will be more pleasant and sweet." The place of death was
on the north side of the town opposite Baliol College:--Dr. Ridley was
dressed in a black gown furred, and Mr. Latimer had a long shroud on,
hanging down to his feet. Dr. Ridley, as he passed Bocardo, looked up to
see Dr. Cranmer, but the latter was then engaged in disputation with a
friar.--When they came to the stake, Dr. Ridley embraced Latimer
fervently, and bid him be of good heart. He then knelt by the stake, and
after earnestly praying together, they had a short private conversation. Dr.
Smith then preached a short sermon against the martyrs, who would have
answered him, but were prevented by Dr. Marshal, the vice-chancellor. Dr.
Ridley then took off his gown and tippet, and gave them to his
brother-in-law, Mr. Shipside. He gave away also many trifles to his
weeping friends, and the populace were anxious to get even a fragment of
his garments. Mr. Latimer gave nothing, and from the poverty of his garb,
was soon stripped to his shroud, and stood venerable and erect, fearless of
death. Dr. Ridley being unclothed to his shirt, the smith placed an iron
chain about their waists, and Dr. Ridley bid him fasten it securely; his
brother having tied a bag of gunpowder about his neck, gave some also to
Mr. Latimer. Dr. Ridley then requested of Lord Williams, of Fame, to
advocate with the queen the cause of some poor men to whom he had,
CHAPTER XII. 340
when bishop, granted leases, but which the present bishop refused to
confirm. A lighted fagot was now laid at Dr. Ridley's feet, which caused
Mr. Latimer to say, "Be of good cheer, Ridley; and play the man. We shall
this day, by God's grace, light up such a candle in England, as, I trust, will
never be put out." When Dr. Ridley saw the flame approaching him, he
exclaimed, "Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit!" and repeated
often, "Lord receive my spirit!" Mr. Latimer, too, ceased not to say, "O
Father of heaven receive my soul!" Embracing the flame, he bathed his
hands in it, and soon died, apparently with little pain; but Dr. Ridley, by the
ill-adjustment of the fagots, which were green, and placed too high above
the furze was burnt much downwards. At this time, piteously entreating for
more fire to come to him, his brother-in-law imprudently heaped the fagots
up over him, which caused the fire more fiercely to burn his limbs, whence
he literally leaped up and down under the fagots, exclaiming that he could
not burn; indeed, his dreadful extremity was but too plain, for after his legs
were quite consumed, he showed his body and shirt unsinged by the flame.
Crying upon God for mercy, a man with a bill pulled the fagots down, and
when the flames arose, he bent himself towards that side; at length the
gunpowder was ignited, and then he ceased to move, burning on the other
side, and falling down at Mr. Latimer's feet over the chain that had hitherto
supported him.
Every eye shed tears at the afflicting sight of these sufferers, who were
among the most distinguished persons of their time in dignity, piety, and
public estimation. They suffered October 16, 1555.
It was on the afternoon of the day when those faithful soldiers of Christ,
Ridley and Latimer, perished, that Gardiner sat down with a joyful heart to
dinner. Scarcely had he taken a few mouthfuls, when he was seized with
illness, and carried to his bed, where he lingered fifteen days in great
torment, unable in any wise to evacuate, and burnt with a devouring fever,
that terminated in death. Execrated by all good Christians, we pray the
Father of Mercies, that he may receive that mercy above he never imparted
below.
These martyrs, after being brought before the bishop of Dover and Dr.
Harpsfield, were finally examined, October 3, 1555, adjudged to be
heretics, and at Canterbury, terminated their existence.
This martyr was the son of a knight, born in Hampshire, and brought up at
New College, Oxford, where he several years studied the civil law, and
became eminent in the Hebrew tongue. He was a scholar and a gentleman,
zealous in religion, fearless in disposition, and a detester of flattery. After
visiting Italy, he returned to England, affairs in King Edward's days
wearing a more promising aspect. During this reign he continued to be
archdeacon of Winchester under Dr. Poinet, who succeeded Gardiner. Upon
the accession of Mary, a convocation was summoned, in which Mr. Philpot
defended the Reformation against his ordinary, Gardiner, (again made
bishop of Winchester,) and soon was conducted to Bonner and other
commissioners for examination, Oct. 2, 1555, after being eighteen months
imprisoned. Upon his demanding to see the commission, Dr. Story cruelly
observed, "I will spend both my gown and my coat, but I will burn thee!
Let him be in Lollard's tower, (a wretched prison,) for I will sweep the
CHAPTER XII. 342
King's Bench and all other prisons of these heretics!" Upon Mr. Philpot's
second examination, it was intimated to him, that Dr. Story had said that
the Lord Chancellor had commanded that he should be made way with. It is
easy to foretell the result of this inquiry; he was committed to Bonner's
coal-house, where he joined company with a zealous minister of Essex,
who had been induced to sign a bill of recantation; but afterward, stung by
his conscience, he asked the bishop to let him see the instrument again,
when he tore it to pieces; which induced Bonner in a fury to strike him
repeatedly, and tear away part of his beard. Mr. Philpot had a private
interview with Bonner the same night, and was then remanded to his bed of
straw like other prisoners, in the coal-house. After seven examinations,
Bonner ordered him to be set in the stocks, and on the following Sunday
separated him from his fellow-prisoners as a sower of heresy, and ordered
him up to a room near the battlements of St. Paul's, eight feet by thirteen,
on the other side of Lollard's tower, and which could be overlooked by any
one in the bishop's outer gallery. Here Mr. Philpot was searched, but
happily he was successful in secreting some letters containing his
examinations. In the eleventh investigation before various bishops, and Mr.
Morgan, of Oxford, the latter was so driven into a corner by the close
pressure of Mr. Philpot's arguments, that he said to him, "Instead of the
spirit of the gospel which you boast to possess, I think it is the spirit of the
buttery, which your fellows have had, who were drunk before their death,
and went I believe drunken to it." To this unfounded and brutish remark,
Mr. Philpot indignantly replied, "It appeareth by your communication, that
you are better acquainted with that spirit than the spirit of God; wherefore I
tell thee, thou painted wall and hypocrite, in the name of the living God,
whose truth I have told thee, that God shall rain fire and brimstone upon
such blasphemers as thou art!" He was then remanded by Bonner, with an
order not to allow him his Bible nor candlelight. December 4th, Mr. Philpot
had his next hearing, and this was followed by two more, making in all,
fourteen conferences, previous to the final examination in which he was
condemned; such were the perseverance and anxiety of the Catholics, aided
by the argumentative abilities of the most distinguished of the papal
bishops, to bring him into the pale of their church. Those examinations,
which were very long and learned, were all written down by Mr. Philpot,
and a stronger proof of the imbecility of the Catholic doctors, cannot, to an
CHAPTER XII. 343
These seven persons were summoned before Bonner's consistory, and the
articles of the Romish church tendered for their approbation. Their refusal
subjected them to the sentence of condemnation, and on January 27, 1556,
they underwent the dreadful sentence of blood in Smithfield.
Mr. Thomas Brown, born at Histon, Ely, but afterward of St. Bride's,
London, was presented by the parish constable to Bonner, for absenting
himself from church. This faithful soldier of Christ suffered on the same
day with the preceding.
CHAPTER XII. 344
John Lomas, Agnes Snoth, Anne Wright, Joan Sole, and Joan Catmer.
These five martyrs suffered together, January 31, 1556. John Lomas was a
young man of Tenterden. He was cited to appear at Canterbury, and was
examined January 17. His answers being adverse to the idolatrous doctrine
of the papacy, he was condemned on the following day, and suffered
January 31.
Seldom in any country, for political controversy, have four women been led
to execution, whose lives were irreproachable, and whom the pity of
savages would have spared. We cannot but remark here that, when the
Protestant power first gained the ascendency over the Catholic superstition,
and some degree of force in the laws was necessary to enforce uniformity,
whence some bigoted people suffered privation in their person or goods, we
read of few burnings, savage cruelties, or poor women brought to the stake,
but it is the nature of error to resort to force instead of argument, and to
silence truth by taking away existence, of which the Redeemer himself is an
instance. The above five persons were burnt at two stakes in one fire,
singing hosannahs to the glorified Saviour, till the breath of life was
CHAPTER XII. 345
extinct. Sir John Norton, who was present, wept bitterly at their unmerited
sufferings.
Archbishop Cranmer.
Dr. Thomas Cranmer was descended from an ancient family, and was born
at the village of Arselacton, in the county of Northampton. After the usual
school education he was sent to Cambridge, and was chosen fellow of Jesus
College. Here he married a gentleman's daughter, by which he forfeited his
fellowship, and became a reader in Buckingham college, placing his wife at
the Dolphin inn, the landlady of which was a relation of hers, whence arose
the idle report that he was an ostler. His lady shortly after dying in
childbed, to his credit he was re-chosen a fellow of the college before
mentioned. In a few years after, he was promoted to be Divinity Lecturer,
and appointed one of the examiners over those who were ripe to become
Bachelors or Doctors in Divinity. It was his principle to judge of their
qualifications by the knowledge they possessed of the Scriptures, rather
than of the ancient fathers, and hence many popish priests were rejected,
and others rendered much improved.
uneasy at the delay, sent for Dr. Gardiner and Dr. Foxe, to consult them,
regretting that a new commission must be sent to Rome, and the suit be
endlessly protracted. Upon relating to the king the conversation which had
passed on the previous evening with Dr. Cranmer, his majesty sent for him,
and opened the tenderness of conscience upon the near affinity of the
queen. Dr. Cranmer advised that the matter should be referred to the most
learned divines of Cambridge and Oxford, as he was unwilling to meddle in
an affair of such weight; but the king enjoined him to deliver his sentiments
in writing, and to repair for that purpose to the Earl of Wiltshire's, who
would accommodate him with books, and every thing requisite for the
occasion. This Dr. Cranmer immediately did, and in his declaration, not
only quoted the authority of the Scriptures, of general councils and the
ancient writers, but maintained that the bishop of Rome had no authority
whatever to dispense with the word of God. The king asked him if he
would stand by this bold declaration; to which replying in the affirmative,
he was deputed ambassador to Rome, in conjunction with the Earl of
Wiltshire, Dr. Stokesley, Dr. Carne, Dr. Bennet, and others, previous to
which, the marriage was discussed in most of the universities of
Christendom and at Rome; when the pope presented his toe to be kissed, as
customary, the Earl of Wiltshire and his party refused. Indeed, it is
affirmed, that a spaniel of the Earl's, attracted by the glitter of the pope's
toe, made a snap at it, whence his holiness drew in his sacred foot, and
kicked at the offender with the other. Upon the pope demanding the cause
of their embassy, the Earl presented Dr. Cranmer's book, declaring that his
learned friends had come to defend it. The pope treated the embassy
honourably, and appointed a day for the discussion, which he delayed, as if
afraid of the issue of the investigation. The Earl returned, and Dr. Cranmer,
by the king's desire, visited the emperor, and was successful in bringing
him over to his opinion. Upon the Doctor's return to England, Dr. Warham,
archbishop of Canterbury, having quitted this transitory life, Dr. Cranmer
was deservedly, and by Dr. Warham's desire, elevated to that eminent
station.
In this function, it may be said that he followed closely the charge of St.
Paul. Diligent in duty, he rose at five in the morning, and continued in
study and prayer till nine: between then and dinner, he devoted to temporal
CHAPTER XII. 347
He ranked high in favour with king Henry and ever had the purity and the
interest of the English church deeply at heart. His mild and forgiving
disposition is recorded in the following instance--An ignorant priest, in the
country, had called Cranmer an ostler, and spoken very derogatory of his
learning. Lord Cromwell receiving information of it, the man was sent to
the fleet, and his case was told to the archbishop by a Mr. Chertsey, a
grocer, and a relation of the priest's. His grace, having sent for the offender,
reasoned with him, and solicited the priest to question him on any learned
subject. This the man, overcome by the bishop's good nature, and knowing
his own glaring incapacity, declined, and entreated his forgiveness, which
was immediately granted, with a charge to employ his time better when he
returned to his parish. Cromwell was much vexed at the lenity displayed,
but the bishop was ever more ready to receive injury than to retaliate in any
other manner than by good advice and good offices.
powerful and just arguments induced the parliament to "render to Cæsar the
things which are Cæsar's." During Cranmer's residence in Germany, 1531,
he became acquainted with Ossiander, at Nurenburgh, and married his
niece, but left her with him while on his return to England; after a season he
sent for her privately, and she remained with him till the year 1539, when
the Six Articles compelled him to return her to her friends for a time.
In 1538, the holy Scriptures were openly exposed to sale; and the places of
worship overflowed every where to hear its holy doctrines expounded.
Upon the king's passing into a law the famous Six Articles, which went
nearly again to establish the essential tenets of the Romish creed, Cranmer
shone forth with all the lustre of a Christian patriot, in resisting the
doctrines they contained, and in which he was supported by the bishops of
Sarum, Worcester, Ely, and Rochester, the two former of whom resigned
their bishoprics. The king, though now in opposition to Cranmer, still
CHAPTER XII. 349
revered the sincerity that marked his conduct. The death of Lord Cromwell
in the Tower, in 1540, the good friend of Cranmer, was a severe blow to the
wavering protestant cause, but even now Cranmer, when he saw the tide
directly adverse to the truth, boldly waited on the king in person, and by his
manly and heartfelt pleading, caused the book of Articles to be passed on
his side, to the great confusion of his enemies, who had contemplated his
fall as inevitable.
A peace having been made, Henry, and the French king Henry the Great,
were unanimous to have the mass abolished in their kingdom, and Cranmer
set about this great work; but the death of the English monarch, in 1546,
CHAPTER XII. 350
The death of Edward, in 1553, exposed Cranmer to all the rage of his
enemies. Though the archbishop was among those who supported Mary's
accession, he was attainted at the meeting of parliament, and in November
adjudged guilty of high treason at Guildhall, and degraded from his
dignities. He sent an humble letter to Mary, explaining the cause of his
signing the will in favor of Edward, and in 1554 he wrote to the council,
whom he pressed to obtain a pardon from the queen, by a letter delivered to
Dr. Weston, but which the latter opened, and on seeing its contents, basely
returned. Treason was a charge quite inapplicable to Cranmer, who
supported the queen's right; while others, who had favoured Lady Jane,
upon paying a small fine were dismissed. A calumny was now spread
against Cranmer, that he complied with some of the popish ceremonies to
ingratiate himself with the queen, which he dared publicly to disavow, and
justified his articles of faith. The active part which the prelate had taken in
the divorce of Mary's mother had ever rankled deeply in the heart of the
queen, and revenge formed a prominent feature in the death of Cranmer.
We have in this work, noticed the public disputations at Oxford, in which
the talents of Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer, shone so conspicuously, and
tended to their condemnation.--The first sentence was illegal, inasmuch as
the usurped power of the pope had not yet been re-established by law.
Being kept in prison till this was effected, a commission was despatched
from Rome, appointing Dr. Brooks to sit as the representative of his
Holiness, and Drs. Story and Martin as those of the queen. Cranmer was
willing to bow to the authority of Drs. Story and Martin, but against that of
Dr. Brooks he protested. Such were the remarks and replies of Cranmer,
after a long examination, that Dr. Brooks observed, "We come to examine
you, and methinks you examine us." Being sent back to confinement, he
received a citation to appear at Rome within eighteen days, but this was
CHAPTER XII. 351
being turned into the body of our Saviour Jesus Christ, and the wine into
his blood.
"And in the other six sacraments, also, (alike as in this) I believe and hold
as the universal church holdeth, and the church of Rome judgeth and
determineth.
"Finally, in all things I profess, that I do not otherwise believe than the
catholic church and the church of Rome holdeth and teacheth.--I am sorry
that I ever held or thought otherwise. And I beseech Almighty God, that of
his mercy he will vouchsafe to forgive me whatsoever I have offended
against God or his church, and also I desire and beseech all christian people
to pray for me.
"And all such as have been deceived either by mine example of 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.
"Let him that standeth take heed lest he fall!" said the apostle, and here was
a falling off indeed! The papists now triumphed in their turn: they had
acquired all they wanted short of his life. His recantation was immediately
printed and dispersed, that it might have its due effect upon the astonished
protestants; but God counter-worked all the designs of the catholics by the
extent to which they carried the implacable persecution of their prey.
CHAPTER XII. 353
Doubtless, the love of life induced Cranmer to sign the above declaration;
yet death may be said to have been preferable to life to him who lay under
the stings of a goaded conscience and the contempt of every gospel
christian; this principle he strongly felt in all its force and anguish.
During the sermon Cranmer wept bitter tears: lifting up his hands and eyes
to heaven, and letting them fall, as if unworthy to live: his grief now found
vent in words: before his confession he fell upon his knees, and, in the
following words unveiled the deep contrition and agitation which harrowed
up his soul.
CHAPTER XII. 354
"O Father of heaven! O Son of God, Redeemer of the world! O Holy Ghost,
three persons and one God! have mercy on me, most wretched caitiff and
miserable sinner. I have offended both against heaven and earth, more than
my tongue can express. Whither then may I go, or whither may I flee? To
heaven I may be ashamed to lift up mine eyes, and in earth I find no place
of refuge or succour. To thee, therefore, O Lord, do I run; to thee do I
humble myself, saying, O Lord, my God, my sins be great, but yet have
mercy upon me for thy great mercy. The great mystery that God became
man, was not wrought for little or few offences. Thou didst not give thy
Son, O Heavenly Father, unto death for small sins only, but for all the
greatest sins of the world, so that the sinner return to thee with his whole
heart, as I do at 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 my own merits, but for thy name's sake,
that it may be hallowed thereby, and for thy dear Son Jesus Christ's sake.
And now therefore, O Father of Heaven, hallowed be thy name," &c.
Then rising, he said he was desirous before his death to give them some
pious exhortations by which God might be glorified and themselves edified.
He then descanted upon the danger of a love for the world, the duty of
obedience to their majesties of love to one another and the necessity of the
rich administering to the wants of the poor. He quoted the three verses of
the fifth chapter of James, and then proceeded, "Let them that be rich
ponder well these three sentences: for if they ever had occasion to show
their charity, they have it now at this present, the poor people being so
many, and victual so dear.
"First, I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth,
&c. And I believe every article of the Catholic faith, every word and
sentence taught by our Saviour Jesus Christ, his apostles and prophets, in
the New and Old Testament.
"And as for the Pope, I refuse him as Christ's enemy, and antichrist, with all
his false doctrine.
"And as for the sacrament, I believe as I have taught in my book against the
bishop of Winchester, which my book teacheth so true a doctrine of the
sacrament, that it shall stand in the last day before the judgment of God,
where the papistical doctrines contrary thereto shall be ashamed to show
their face."
Cranmer would have proceeded in the exposure of the popish doctrines, but
the murmurs of the idolaters drowned his voice, and the preacher gave an
order to lead the heretic away! The savage command was directly obeyed,
and the lamb about to suffer was torn from his stand to the place of
slaughter, insulted all the way by the revilings and taunts of the pestilent
CHAPTER XII. 356
monks and friars. With thoughts intent upon a far higher object than the
empty threats of man, he reached the spot dyed with the blood of Ridley
and Latimer. There he knelt for a short time in earnest devotion, and then
arose, that he might undress and prepare for the fire. Two friars who had
been parties in prevailing upon him to abjure, now endeavoured to draw
him off again from the truth, but he was steadfast and immoveable in what
he had just professed, and before publicly taught. A chain was provided to
bind him to the stake, and after it had tightly encircled him, fire was put to
the fuel, and the flames began soon to ascend. Then were the glorious
sentiments of the martyr made manifest;--then it was, that stretching out his
right hand, he held it unshrinkingly in the fire till it was burnt to a cinder,
even before his body was injured, frequently exclaiming, "This unworthy
right hand!" Apparently insensible of pain, with a countenance of venerable
resignation, and eyes directed to Him for whose cause he suffered, he
continued, like St. Stephen, to say, "Lord Jesus receive my spirit!" till the
fury of the flames terminated his powers of utterance and existence. He
closed a life of high sublunary elevation, of constant uneasiness, and of
glorious martyrdom, on March 21, 1556.
Thus perished the illustrious Cranmer, the man whom king Henry's
capricious soul esteemed for his virtues above all other men. Cranmer's
example is an endless testimony that fraud and cruelty are the leading
characteristics of the catholic hierarchy. They first seduced him to live by
recantation, and then doomed him to perish, using perhaps the sophistical
arguments, that, being brought again within the catholic pale, he was then
most fit to die. His gradual change from darkness to the light of the truth,
proved that he had a mind open to conviction. Though mild and forgiving
in temper, he was severe in church discipline, and it is only on this ground
that one act of cruelty of his can in any way be excused. A poor woman
was in Edward's reign condemned to be burnt for her religious opinions; the
pious young monarch reasoned with the archbishop upon the impropriety of
protestants resorting to the same cruel means they censured in papists,
adding humanely, "What! would you have me send her quick to the devil in
her error?" The prelate however was not to be softened, and the king signed
the death warrant with eyes steeped in tears. There is however a shade in
the greatest characters, and few characters, whether political or religious,
CHAPTER XII. 357
These godly women (before mentioned) were both of Ipswich, and suffered
about the same time with Cranmer. When in prison together, Mrs.
Trunchfield was less ardent and zealous than Mrs. Potten; but when at the
stake, her hope in glory was brighter even than that of her fellow-sufferer.
John Maundrel, William Coberly, and John Spicer were burnt between
Salisbury and Wilton, March 24, 1556. Two died without any particular
retardation, but Coberly, from the current of wind as he stood, was a long
time in perishing. His left arm was visible to the bone, while the right, but
little injured, beat upon his breast softly, and the discharge from his mouth
was considerable. Rising suddenly erect from hanging over the chain, as if
dead, he gave up his mortal abode for one made without hands, eternal in
the heavens!
March 28, the six were brought up for condemnation in the consistory of St.
Paul's; after which sentence, they were delivered to the sheriff, to be sent to
Newgate, where they remained, patiently waiting the Lord's time for
deliverance, which took place about the 23d of April, 1556, in Smithfield.
In the same month, perished John Harpole, of Rochester, and Joan Beach,
widow, (before mentioned) with Mr. N. Hall. They suffered under Maurice,
bishop of Rochester, in whose diocess they lived.
Rev. John Hullier. This gentleman went from Eton school to king's college,
Cambridge, and suffered under Dr. Thirlby, bishop of Ely. He died the 2d
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of April, 1556.
Here we perceive that neither the impotence of age nor the affliction of
blindness, could turn aside the murdering fangs of these Babylonish
monsters. The first of these unfortunates was of the parish of Barking, aged
sixty-eight, a painter and a cripple. The other was blind,--dark indeed in his
visual faculties, but intellectually illuminated with the radiance of the
everlasting gospel of truth. Inoffensive objects like these were informed
against by some of the sons of bigotry, and dragged before the prelatical
shark of London, where they underwent examination, and replied to the
articles propounded to them, as other christian martyrs had done before. On
the 9th of May, in the consistory of St. Paul's, they were entreated to recant,
and upon refusal, were sent to Fulham, where Bonner, by way of a dessert
after dinner, condemned them to the agonies of the fire. Being consigned to
the secular officers, May 15, 1556, they were taken in a cart from Newgate
to Stratford-le-Bow, where they were fastened to the stake. When Hugh
Laverick was secured by the chain, having no farther occasion for his
crutch, he threw it away saying to his fellow-martyr, while consoling him,
"Be of good cheer my brother; for my lord of London is our good
physician; he will heal us both shortly--thee of thy blindness, and me of my
lameness." They sank down in the fire, to rise to immortality!
The day after the above martyrdoms, Catharine Hut, of Bocking, widow;
Joan Horns, spinster, of Billericay; Elizabeth Thackwel, spinster, of Great
Burstead; suffered death in Smithfield.
After the death of the above, the following three persons suffered at
Beccles, in Suffolk, May 21, 1556. Thomas Spicer, of Winston, labourer;
John Denny, and Edmund Poole.
This poor man, of Malden, May 26, 1556, put to sea, to lade in Lent with
Fuller's earth, but the boat, being driven on land, filled with water, and
every thing was washed out of her; Crow, however, saved his Testament,
and coveted nothing else. With Crow was a man and a boy, whose awful
situation became every minute more alarming, as the boat was useless, and
they were ten miles from land, expecting the tide should in a few hours set
in upon them. After prayer to God, they got upon the mast, and hung there
for the space of ten hours, when the poor boy, overcome by cold and
exhaustion, fell off, and was drowned. The tide having abated, Crow
proposed to take down the masts, and float upon them, which they did; and
at ten o'clock at night they were borne away at the mercy of the waves. On
Wednesday, in the night, Crow's companion died through fatigue and
hunger, and he was left alone, calling upon God for succour. At length he
was picked up by a Captain Morse, bound to Antwerp, who had nearly
steered away, taking him for some fisherman's buoy floating in the sea. As
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soon as Crow was got on board, he put his hand in his bosom, and drew out
his Testament, which indeed was wet, but no otherwise injured. At
Antwerp he was well received, and the money he had lost was more than
made good to him.
June 20, at the same place, were burnt the Rev. Thomas Whood, and
Thomas Mills. June 24, the Rev. Wm. Alderhall; and June 28, John
Clement, wheelright, died in the King's Bench prison, and were buried on
the dunghill in the backyard. June 21, a young man, the servant of a
merchant, was burnt at Leicester.
Executions at Stratford-le-Bow.
At this sacrifice, which we are about to detail, no less than thirteen were
doomed to the fire.
The first was a labourer, and a single man, of Framsden, Suffolk. He was a
shrewd, undaunted professor, and fearlessly replied to the bishop's
questions. Adam Foster was a husbandman, married, aged 26, of
Mendlesham, Suffolk. Refusing to go to church, he was sent by Sir J.
Tyrrel to Eye-Dungeon, and thence to bishop Hopton, who condemned
him.
Mr. Palmer was born at Coventry, where his father had been mayor. Being
afterward removed to Oxford, he became, under Mr. Harley, of Magdalen
college, an elegant Latin and Greek scholar. He was fond of useful
disputation, possessed of a lively wit, and a strong memory. Indefatigable
in private study, he rose at four in the morning, and by this practice
qualified himself to become reader in logic in Magdalen college. The times
of Edward, however, favouring the reformation, Mr. Palmer became
frequently punished for his contempt of prayer and orderly behaviour, and
was at length expelled the house.
About this time, three women were burnt in the island of Guernsey, under
circumstances of aggravated cruelty, whose names were, Catherine
Cauches, and her two daughters, Mrs. Perotine Massey, and Guillemine
Gilbert.
The day of execution having arrived, three stakes were erected: the middle
post was assigned to the mother, the eldest daughter on her right hand, and
the younger on the left. They were strangled previous to burning, but the
rope breaking before they were dead, the poor women fell into the fire.
Perotine, at the time of her inhuman sentence, was largely pregnant, and
now, falling on her side upon the flaming fagots, presented a singular
spectacle of horror!--Torn open by the tremendous pangs she endured, she
was delivered of a fine male child, who was rescued from its burning bed
by the humanity of one W. House, who tenderly laid it on the grass. The
infant was taken to the provost, and by him presented to the bailiff, when
the inhuman monster decreed it to be re-cast into the fire, that it might
perish with its heretical mother! Thus was this innocent baptised in its own
blood, to make up the very climax of Romish barbarity; being born and
dying at the same time a martyr; and realizing again the days of Herodian
cruelty, with circumstances of bigoted malice unknown even to that
execrable murderer.
Their execution took place, July 18, 1556. On the same day, were burnt at
Grinstead, in Sussex, Thomas Dungate, John Foreman, and Mother Tree.
June 26, 1556, at Leicester, was executed Thomas Moor, a servant, aged 24
years, who was taken up for saying that his Saviour was in Paradise, and
not in the popish paste or wafer.
Joan Waste.
This poor honest woman, blind from her birth, and unmarried, aged 22, was
of the parish of Allhallows, Derby. Her father was a barber, and also made
ropes for a living: in which she assisted him, and also learned to knit
several articles of apparel. Refusing to communicate with those who
maintained doctrines contrary to those she had learned in the days of the
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pious Edward, she was called before Dr. Draicot, the chancellor of bishop
Blaine, and Peter Finch, official of Derby.
The beginning of the year 1557, was remarkable for the visit of Cardinal
Pole to the University of Cambridge, which seemed to stand in need of
much cleansing from heretical preachers and reformed doctrines. One
object was also to play the popish farce of trying Martin Bucer and Paulus
Phagius, who had been buried about three or four years; for which purpose
the churches of St. Mary and St. Michael, where they lay, were interdicted
as vile and unholy places, unfit to worship God in, until they were
perfumed and washed with the Pope's holy water, &c. &c. The trumpery act
of citing these dead reformers to appear, not having had the least effect
upon them, on January 26, sentence of condemnation was passed, part of
which ran in this manner, and may serve as a specimen of proceedings of
this nature:--"We therefore pronounce the said Martin Bucer and Paulus
Phagius excommunicated and anathematized, as well by the common law,
as by letters of process; and that their memory be condemned, we also
condemn their bodies and bones (which in that wicked time of schism, and
other heresies flourishing in this kingdom, were rashly buried in holy
ground) to be dug up, and cast far from the bodies and bones of the faithful,
according to the holy canons; and we command that they and their writings,
if any be there found, be publicly burnt; and we interdict all persons
whatsoever of this university, town, or places adjacent, who shall read or
conceal their heretical book, as well by the common law, as by our letters
of process!"
After the sentence thus read, the bishop commanded their bodies to be dug
out of their graves, and being degraded from holy orders, delivered them
into the hands of the secular power; for it was not lawful for such innocent
persons as they were, abhorring all bloodshed, and detesting all desire of
murder, to put any man to death.
February 6, the bodies, enclosed as they were in chests, were carried into
the midst of the market place at Cambridge, accompanied by a vast
concourse of people. A great post was set fast in the ground, to which the
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chests were affixed with a large iron chain, and bound round their centres,
in the same manner as if the dead bodies had been alive. When the fire
began to ascend, and caught the coffins, a number of condemned books
were also launched into the flames, and burnt. Justice, however, was done
to the memories of these pious and learned men in queen Elizabeth's reign,
when Mr. Ackworth, orator of the university, and Mr. J. Pilkington,
pronounced orations in honour of their memory, and in reprobation of their
catholic persecutors.
Cardinal Cole also inflicted his harmless rage upon the dead body of Peter
Martyr's wife, who, by his command, was dug out of her grave, and buried
on a distant dunghill, partly because her bones lay near St. Fridewide's
relics, held once in great esteem in that college, and partly because he
wished to purify Oxford of heretical remains as well as Cambridge. In the
succeeding reign, however, her remains were restored to their former
cemetary, and even intermingled with those of the catholic saint, to the
utter astonishment and mortification of the disciples of his holiness the
pope.
In the year 1557, fifteen were imprisoned in the castle of Canterbury, five
of whom perished of hunger. We now proceed to the account of the other
ten; whose names were--J. Philpot, M. Bradbridge, N. Final, all of
Tenterden; W. Waterer and T. Stephens, of Beddington; J. Kempe, of
Norgate; W. Hay, of Hithe; T. Hudson, of Salenge; W. Lowick, of
Cranbrooke; and W. Prowting, of Thornham. Of these Kempe, Waterer,
Prowting, Lowick, Hudson, and Hay, were burnt at Canterbury, January 15,
1557: Stephens and Philpot at Wye, about the same time; and Final and
Bradbridge at Ashford, on the 16th. They were steadfast and immoveable in
the faith.
CHAPTER XII. 366
These persons were brought before Bonner, who would have immediately
sent them to execution, but Cardinal Pole was for more merciful measures,
and Bonner, in a letter of his to the cardinal, seems to be sensible that he
had displeased him, for he has this expression,--"I thought to have them all
hither to Fulham, and to have given sentence against them; nevertheless,
perceiving by my last doing that your grace was offended, I thought it my
duty, before I proceeded farther, to inform your grace." This circumstance
verifies the account that the cardinal was a humane man; and though a
zealous catholic, we, as protestants, are willing to render him that honour
which his merciful character deserves. Some of the bitter persecutors
denounced him to the pope as a favourer of heretics, and he was summoned
to Rome, but queen Mary, by particular entreaty, procured his stay.
However, before his latter end, and a little before his last journey from
Rome to England, he was strongly suspected of favouring the doctrine of
Luther.
Executions in Kent.
As in the last sacrifice four women did honour to the truth, so in the
following auto-de-fe we have the like number of females and males, who
suffered June 30, 1557, at Canterbury, and were J. Fishcock, F. White, N.
Pardue, Barbary Final, widow; Bradbridge's widow; Wilson's wife; and
Benden's wife.
been the situation of this poor victim, lying on straw, between stone walls,
without a change of apparel, or the meanest requisites of cleanliness, during
a period of nine weeks!
March 25, she was summoned before the bishop, who, with rewards,
offered her liberty if she would go home and be comfortable; but Mrs.
Benden had been inured to suffering, and, showing him her contracted
limbs and emaciated appearance, refused to swerve from the truth. She was
however removed from this Black Hole to the West gate, whence, about the
end of April, she was taken out to be condemned, and then committed to
the castle prison till the 19th of June, the day of her burning. At the stake,
she gave her handkerchief to one John Banks, as a memorial; and from her
waist she drew a white lace, desiring him to give it her brother, and tell
him, it was the last band that had bound her, except the chain; and to her
father she returned a shilling he had sent her.
The whole of these seven martyrs undressed themselves with alacrity, and,
being prepared, knelt down, and prayed with an earnestness and Christian
spirit that even the enemies of the Cross were affected. After invocation
made together, they were secured to the stake, and, being encompassed
with the unsparing flames, they yielded their souls into the hands of the
living Lord.
Dr. Harpsfield. Christ called the bread his body; what dost thou say it is?
Dr. H. Well, then, thou sayest it was but bread which the disciples did eat.
These nine persons were taken a few days only before their judgment, and
suffered at Lewes, in Sussex, June 22, 1557. Of these, eight were
prematurely executed, inasmuch as the writ from London could not have
arrived for their burning. A person named Ambrose died in Maidstone
prison about this time.
Rev. Mr. John Hullier was brought up at Eton college, and in process of
time became curate of Babram, three miles from Cambridge and went
afterward to Lynn; where, opposing the superstition of the papists, he was
carried before Dr. Thirlby, bishop of Ely, and sent to Cambridge castle:
here he lay for a time, and was then sent to the Tolbooth prison, where,
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after three months, he was brought to St. Mary's church, and condemned by
Dr. Fuller. On Maunday Thursday, he was brought to the stake: while
undressing, he told the people to bear witness that he was about to suffer in
a just cause, and exhorted them to believe, that there was no other rock than
Jesus Christ to build upon. A priest, named Boyes, then desired the mayor
to silence him. After praying, he went meekly to the stake, and being bound
with a chain, and placed in a pitch barrel, fire was applied to the reeds and
wood; but the wind drove the fire directly to his back, which caused him
under the severe agony to pray the more fervently. His friends directed the
executioner to fire the pile to windward of his face, which was immediately
done.
A quantity of books were now thrown into the fire, one of which (the
Communion Service) he caught, opened it, and joyfully continued to read
it, until the fire and smoke deprived him of sight; then even, in earnest
prayer, he pressed the book to his heart, thanking God for bestowing on
him in his last moments this precious gift.--The day being hot, the fire burnt
fiercely; and at a time when the spectators supposed he was no more, he
suddenly exclaimed, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit! And meekly resigned
his life. He was burnt on Jesus Green, not far from Jesus College. He had
gunpowder given him, but he was dead before it became ignited. This pious
sufferer afforded a singular spectacle; for his flesh was so burnt from the
bones, which continued erect, that he presented the idea of a skeleton figure
chained to the stake. His remains were eagerly seized by the multitude, and
venerated by all who admired his piety or detested inhuman bigotry.
Executions at Colchester.
It was before mentioned that twenty-two persons had been sent up from
Cholchester, who upon a slight submission, were afterward released. Of
these, Wm. Munt, of Much-Bentley, husbandman, with Alice, his wife, and
Rose Allin, her daughter, upon their return home, abstained from church,
which induced the bigoted priest secretly to write to Bonner. For a short
time they absconded, but returning again, March 7th, one Mr. Edmund
Tyrrel, (a relation of the Tyrrel who murdered king Edward V. and his
brother) with the officers, entered the house while Munt and his wife were
in bed, and informed them that they must go to Colchester Castle. Mrs.
Munt at that time very ill, requested her daughter to get her some drink;
leave being permitted, Rose took a candle and a mug; and in returning
through the house was met by Tyrrel, who cautioned her to advise her
parents to become good catholics. Rose briefly informed him that they had
the Holy Ghost for their adviser; and that she was ready to lay down her
own life for the same cause. Turning to his company, he remarked that she
was willing to burn; and one of them told him to prove her, and see what
she would do by and by. The unfeeling wretch immediately executed this
project; and, seizing the young woman by the wrist, he held the lighted
candle under her hand, burning it crosswise on the back, till the tendons
divided from the flesh, during which he loaded her with many opprobious
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epithets. She endured his rage unmoved, and then, when he had ceased the
torture, she asked him to begin at her feet or head, for he need not fear that
his employer would one day repay him. After this she took the drink to her
mother.
This cruel act of torture does not stand alone on record. Bonner had served
a poor blind harper in nearly the same manner, who had steadily maintained
a hope that if every joint of him were to be burnt, he should not fly from the
faith. Bonner, upon this, privately made a signal to his men, to bring a
burning coal, which they placed in the poor man's hand, and then by force
held it closed, till it burnt into the flesh deeply. But to return.--
In searching Munt's house, John Thurston and Margaret his wife were
found, and conveyed to Colchester Castle; where lay J. Johnson, of Thorp,
Essex, aged 34, widower, with his three young children, all indicted for
heresy.
Shortly after their condemnation, Bonner's writ arrived for their execution,
which was fixed for the 2d of August, 1557. About seven o'clock in the
morning, the town prisoners in the Mote-hall were brought to a plot of
ground on the outside of the town wall, where the stake was erected,
surrounded by fagots and fuel. Having prayed, and prepared themselves for
the fiery torment, Elizabeth Folks, as she was standing at the stake,
received a dreadful blow on the shoulder from the stroke of a hammer,
which was aimed at the staple that secured the chain. This, however, in no
wise discomposed her, but turning her head round, she continued to pray
and exhort the people. Fire being put to the pile, these martyrs died amidst
the prayers and commisseration of thousands who came to be witnesses of
their fortitude and their faith.
CHAPTER XII. 373
In the same manner, in the afternoon, the county prisoners from Colchester
castle were brought out, and executed, at different stakes, on the same spot;
praising God, and exhorting the people to avoid idolatry and the church of
Rome.
George Eagles, tailor, was indicted for having prayed that "God would turn
queen Mary's heart, or take her away;" the ostensible cause of his death was
his religion, for treason could hardly be imagined in praying for the
reformation of such an execrable soul as that of Mary. Being condemned
for this crime, he was drawn to the place of execution upon a sledge, with
two robbers, who were executed with him. After Eagles had mounted the
ladder, and been turned off a short time, he was cut down, before he was at
all insensible; a bailiff, named Wm. Swallow, then dragged him to the
sledge, and with a common blunt cleaver, hacked off the head: in a manner
equally clumsy and cruel, he opened his body and tore out the heart.
In all this suffering the poor martyr repined not, but to the last called upon
his Saviour. The fury of these bigots did not end here; the intestines were
burnt, and the body was quartered, the four parts being sent to Colchester,
Harwich, Chelmsford, and St. Rouse's.--Chelmsford had the honor of
retaining his head, which was affixed to a long pole in the market-place. In
time it was blown down, and lay several days in the streets, till it was
buried at night in the church-yard. God's judgment not long after fell upon
Swallow, who in his old age became a beggar, and affected with a leprosy
that made him obnoxious even to the animal creation; nor did Richard
Potts, who troubled Eagles in his dying moments, escape the visiting hand
of God.
Nearly about this time a person named Fryer, and the sister of George
Eagles, suffered martyrdom.
CHAPTER XII. 374
This lady was the wife of Mr. T. Lewes, of Manchester. She had received
the Romish religion as true, till the burning of that pious martyr, the Rev.
Mr. Saunders, at Coventry. Understanding that his death arose from a
refusal to receive the mass, she began to inquire into the ground of his
refusal, and her conscience, as it began to be enlightened, became restless
and alarmed. In this inquietude, she resorted to Mr. John Glover, who lived
near, and requested that he would unfold those rich sources of gospel
knowledge he possessed, particularly upon the subject of transubstantiation.
He easily succeeded in convincing her that the mummery of popery and the
mass were at variance with God's most holy word, and honestly reproved
her for following too much the vanities of a wicked world. It was to her
indeed a word in season, for she soon become weary of her former sinful
life, and resolved to abandon the mass and idolatrous worship. Though
compelled by her husband's violence to go to church, her contempt of the
holy water and other ceremonies were so manifest, that she was accused
before the bishop for despising the sacramentals.
Mr. Glover and others earnestly exhorted Lewes to forfeit the money he
was bound in, rather than subject his wife to certain death; but he was deaf
to the voice of humanity, and delivered her over to the bishop, who soon
found a sufficient cause to consign her to a loathsome prison, whence she
was several times brought for examination. At the last time the bishop
reasoned with her upon the fitness of her coming to mass, and receiving as
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sacred the sacrament and sacramentals of the Holy Ghost. "If these things
were in the word of God," said Mrs. Lewes, "I would with all my heart
receive, believe, and esteem them." The bishop, with the most ignorant and
impious effrontery, replied, "If thou wilt believe no more than what is
warranted by scripture, thou art in a state of damnation!" Astonished at
such a declaration, this worthy sufferer ably rejoined, "that his words were
as impure, as they were profane."
After condemnation, she lay a twelvemonth in prison, the sheriff not being
willing to put her to death in his time, though he had been but just chosen.
When her death warrant came from London, she sent for some friends,
whom she consulted in what manner her death might be more glorious to
the name of God, and injurious to the cause of God's enemies. Smilingly,
she said, "As for death, I think but lightly of. When I know that I shall
behold the amiable countenance of Christ my dear Saviour, the ugly face of
death does not much trouble me." The evening before she suffered, two
priests were anxious to visit her, but she refused both their confession and
absolution, when she could hold a better communication with the High
Priest of souls. About three o'clock in the morning, Satan began to shoot his
fiery darts, by putting into her mind to doubt whether she was chosen to
eternal life, and Christ died for her. Her friends readily pointed out to her
those consolatory passages of Scripture which comfort the fainting heart,
and treat of the Redeemer who taketh away the sins of the world.
About eight o'clock the sheriff announced to her that she had but an hour to
live; she was at first cast down, but this soon passed away, and she thanked
God that her life was about to be devoted to his service. The sheriff granted
permission for two friends to accompany her to the stake--an indulgence for
which he was afterward severely handled. Mr. Reniger and Mr. Bernher led
her to the place of execution; in going to which, from its distance, her great
weakness, and the press of the people, she had nearly fainted. Three times
she prayed fervently that God would deliver the land from popery and the
idolatrous mass; and the people for the most part, as well as the sheriff, said
Amen.
CHAPTER XII. 376
When she had prayed, she took the cup, (which had been filled with water
to refresh her,) and said, I drink to all them that unfeignedly love the gospel
of Christ, and wish for the abolition of popery. Her friends, and a great
many women of the place, drank with her, for which most of them
afterward were enjoined penance.
When chained to the stake, her countenance was cheerful, and the roses of
her cheeks were not abated. Her hands were extended towards heaven till
the fire rendered them powerless, when her soul was received into the arms
of the Creator. The duration of her agony was but short, as the
under-sheriff, at the request of her friends, had prepared such excellent fuel
that she was in a few minutes overwhelmed with smoke and flame. The
case of this lady drew a tear of pity from every one who had a heart not
callous to humanity.
Executions at Islington.
About the 17th of Sept. suffered at Islington the following four professors
of Christ: Ralph Allerton, James Austoo, Margery Austoo, and Richard
Roth.
James Austoo and his wife, of St. Allhallows, Barking, London, were
sentenced for not believing in the presence. Richard Roth rejected the seven
sacraments, and was accused of comforting the heretics by the following
letter written in his own blood, and intended to have been sent to his friends
at Colchester:--
"How much reason have you to rejoice 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 end. O dear hearts
in Christ, what a crown of glory shall ye receive with Christ in the kingdom
of God! O that it had been the good will of God that I had been ready to
have gone with you; for I lie in my lord's Little-ease by day, and in the
night I lie in the Coal-house, apart from Ralph Allerton, or any other; and
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we look every day when we shall be condemned; 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 patiently 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 my 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 sisters known and unknown. O be joyful
even unto death. Fear it not, saith Christ, for I have overcome 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 pitcheth 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,
who will never forsake us. O blessed virgins, ye have played the wise
virgins' part, in that ye have taken oil in your lamps that ye may go in with
the bridegroom, when he cometh, 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!
Lamb, who was slain that they might be of the redeemed of God.
This young martyr, aged twenty-two, was the wife of Mr. Edmund Ormes,
worsted weaver of St. Lawrence, Norwich. At the death of Miller and
Elizabeth Cooper, before mentioned, she had said that she would pledge
them of the same cup they drank of. For these words she was brought to the
chancellor, who would have discharged her upon promising to go to
church, and to keep her belief to herself. As she would not consent to this,
the chancellor urged that he had shown more lenity to her than any other
person, and was unwilling to condemn her, because she was an ignorant
foolish woman; to this she replied, (perhaps with more shrewdness than he
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expected,) that, however great his desire might be to spare her sinful flesh,
it could not equal her inclination to surrender it up in so great a quarrel. The
chancellor then pronounced the fiery sentence, and, September 23, 1557,
she was brought to the stake, at eight o'clock in the morning. After
declaring her faith to the people, she laid her hand on the stake, and said,
"Welcome thou cross of Christ." Her hand was sooted in doing this, (for it
was the same stake at which Miller and Cooper were burnt,) and she at first
wiped it; but directly after again welcomed and embraced it as the "sweet
cross of Christ." After the tormentors had kindled the fire, she said, "My
soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit doth rejoice in God my Saviour."
Then crossing her hands upon her breast, and looking upwards with the
utmost serenity, she stood the fiery furnace. Her hands continued gradually
to rise till the sinews were dried, and then they fell. She uttered no sigh of
pain, but yielded her life, an emblem of that celestial paradise in which is
the presence of God, blessed for ever.
It might be contended that this martyr voluntarily sought her own death, as
the chancellor scarcely exacted any other penance of her than to keep her
belief to herself; yet it should seem in this instance as if God had chosen
her to be a shining light, for a twelve-month before she was taken, she had
recanted; but she was wretched till the chancellor was informed, by letter,
that she repented of her recantation from the bottom of her heart. As if to
compensate for her former apostacy, and to convince the catholics that she
meant no more to compromise for her personal security, she boldly refused
his friendly offer of permitting her to temporize. Her courage in such a
cause deserves commendation--the cause of Him who has said, Whoever is
ashamed of me on earth, of such will I be ashamed in heaven.
This pious martyr was a Scotchman: at the age of 17, he entered himself as
one of the order of Black Friars, at Stirling, in Scotland. He had been kept
out of an inheritance by his friends, and he took this step in revenge for
their conduct to him. After being there sixteen years, Lord Hamilton, Earl
of Arran, taking a liking to him, the archbishop of St. Andrew's induced the
provincial of the house to dispense with his habit and order; and he thus
became the Earl's chaplain. He remained in this spiritual employment a
year, and in that time God wrought in him a saving knowledge of the truth;
for which reason the Earl sent him to preach in the freedom of Ayr, where
he remained four years; but finding danger there from the religious
complexion of the times, and learning that there was much gospel freedom
in England, he travelled up to the duke of Somerset, then Lord Protector of
England, who gave him a yearly salary of twenty pounds, and authorized
him, to preach at Carlisle, Berwick, and Newcastle, where he married. He
was afterward removed to a benefice at Hull, in which he remained till the
death of Edward VI.
In consequence of the tide of persecution then setting in, he fled with his
wife to Friesland, and at Nordon they followed the occupation of knitting
hose, caps, &c. for subsistence. Impeded in his business by the want of
yarn, he came over to England to procure a quantity, and on Nov. 10th,
arrived in London, where he soon heard of a secret society of the faithful, to
whom he joined himself, and was in a short time elected their minister, in
which occupation he strengthened them in every good resolution. Dec.
12th, through the information of one Taylor, a member of the society, Mr.
Rough, with Cuthbert Symson and others, was taken up in the Saracen's
Head, Islington, where, under the pretext of coming to see a play, their
religious exercises were holden. The queen's vice-chamberlain conducted
Rough and Symson before the council, in whose presence they were
charged with meeting to celebrate the communion. The council wrote to
Bonner and he lost no time in this affair of blood. In three days he had him
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up, and on the next (the 20th) resolved to condemn him. The charges laid
against him were, that he, being a priest, was married, and that he had
rejected the service in the Latin tongue. Rough wanted not arguments to
reply to these flimsy tenets. In short, he was degraded and condemned.
Mr. Rough, it should be noticed, when in the north, in Edward the VIth's
reign, had saved Dr. Watson's life, who afterward sat with bishop Bonner
on the bench. This ungrateful prelate, in return for the kind act he had
received, boldly accused Mr. Rough of being the most pernicious heretic in
the country. The godly minister reproved him for his malicious spirit; he
affirmed that, during the thirty years he had lived, he had never bowed the
knee to Baal; and that twice at Rome he had seen the pope borne about on
men's shoulders with the false-named sacrament carried before him,
presenting a true picture of the very antichrist; yet was more reverence
shown to him than to the wafer, which they accounted to be their God.
"Ah?" said Bonner, rising up, and making towards him, as if he would have
torn his garment, "hast thou been at Rome, and seen our holy father the
pope, and dost thou blaspheme him after this sort?" This said, he fell upon
him, tore off a piece of his beard, and, that the day might begin to his own
satisfaction, he ordered the object of his rage to be burnt by half past five
the following morning.
Cuthbert Symson.
Few professors of Christ possessed more activity and zeal than this
excellent person. He not only labored to preserve his friends from the
contagion of popery, but to guard them against the terrors of persecution.
He was deacon of the little congregation over which Mr. Rough presided as
minister.
Mr. Symson has written an account of his own sufferings, which we cannot
detail better than in his own words:
"On the 13th of December, 1557, I was committed by the council to the
tower of London. On the following Thursday, I was called into the
ware-room, before the constable of the tower, and the recorder of London,
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"After enduring the rack twice again, I was retaken to my lodging, and ten
days after the lieutenant asked me if I would not now confess that which
they had before asked of me. I answered, that I had already said as much as
I would. Three weeks after I was sent to the priest, where I was greatly
assaulted, and at whose hand I received the pope's curse, for bearing
witness of the resurrection of Christ. And thus I commend you to God, and
to the word of his grace, with all those who unfeignedly call upon the name
of Jesus; desiring God of his endless mercy, through the merits of his dear
Son Jesus Christ, to bring us all to his everlasting kingdom, Amen. I praise
God for his great mercy shown upon us. Sing Hosanna to the Highest with
me, Cuthbert Symson. God forgive my sins! I ask forgiveness of all the
world, and I forgive all the world, and thus I leave the world, in the hope of
a joyful resurrection!"
personable man he is, and then of his patience, I affirm, that, if he were not
a heretic, he is a man of the greatest patience that ever came before me.
Thrice in one day has he been racked in the tower: in my house also he has
felt sorrow, and yet never have I seen his patience broken."
The day before this pious deacon was to be condemned, while in the stocks
in the bishop's coal-house, he had the vision of a glorified form, which
much encouraged him. This he certainly attested to his wife, Mr. Austen,
and others, before his death; but Mr. Fox, in reciting this article, leaves it to
the reader's judgment, to consider it either as a natural or supernatural
circumstance.
Falling upon his knees, his spirit wrestled with God and God verified the
words of his Son, "Ask, and it shall be given." The martyr rose in an
ecstacy of joy, and exclaimed, "Now, I thank God, I am strong! and care
not what man can do to me!" With an unruffled countenance he replaced
himself under the chain, joined his fellow-sufferers, and with them suffered
death, to the comfort of the godly, and the confusion of antichrist.
In the month of May, William Harris, Richard Day, and Christiana George,
suffered at Colchester, and there humbly made an offering of themselves to
God.
Apprehensions at Islington.
than to hear mass. Easy as this condition may seem, these martyrs valued
their purity of conscience more than loss of life or property; hence, thirteen
were burnt, seven in Smithfield, and six at Brentford; two died in prison,
and the other seven were providentially preserved. The names of the seven
who suffered were, H. Pond, R. Estland, R. Southain, M. Ricarby, J. Floyd,
J. Holiday, and R. Holland. They were sent to Newgate June 16, 1558, and
executed on the 27th.
The story of Roger Holland is the only one of these martyrs which has been
handed down to us. He was first an apprentice to one Mr. Kempton, at the
Black-Boy, Watling-street. He was, in every sense of the word, licentious, a
lover of bad company, and, more than all, a stubborn determined
papist--one of whom it might be said, that a miracle only could effect his
conversion. Dissipated as he was, his master had the imprudent confidence
to trust him with money; and, having received thirty pounds on his master's
account, he lost it at the gaming table. Knowing it was impossible to regain
his character, he determined to withdraw to France or Flanders.--With this
resolution, he called early in the morning on a discreet servant in the house,
named Elizabeth, who professed the gospel, and lived a life that did honour
to her profession. To her he revealed the loss his folly had occasioned,
regretted that he had not followed her advice, and begged her to give his
master a note of hand from him acknowledging the debt, which he would
repay if ever it were in his power; he also entreated his disgraceful conduct
might be kept secret, lest it would bring the grey hairs of his father with
sorrow to a premature grave.
Testament and the Book of Service, and that you read the Scriptures with
reverence and fear, calling upon God for his grace to direct you in his truth.
Pray also fervently to God, to pardon your former offences, and not to
remember the sins of your youth, and would you obtain his favour, ever
dread to break his laws or offend his majesty. So shall God have you in his
keeping, and grant you your heart's desire." We must honour the memory of
this excellent domestic, whose pious endeavours were equally directed to
benefit the thoughtless youth in this life and that which is to come. May her
example be followed by the present generation of servants, who seek rather
to seduce by vain dress and loose manners the youth who are associated in
servitude with them! God did not suffer the wish of this excellent domestic
to be thrown upon a barren soil; within half a year after the licentious
Holland became a zealous professor of the gospel, and was an instrument of
conversion to his father and others whom he visited in Lancashire, to their
spiritual comfort and reformation from popery.
His father, pleased with his change of conduct, gave him forty pounds to
commence business with in London. Upon his return, like an honest man,
he paid the debt of gratitude, and, rightly judging that she who had proved
so excellent a friend and counsellor, would be no less amiable as a wife, he
tendered her his hand. They were married in the first year of Mary, and a
child was the fruit of their union, which Mr. Holland caused to be baptised
by Mr. Ross in his own house. For this offence he was obliged to fly, and
Bonner, with his accustomed implacability, seized his goods, and ill-treated
his wife. After this, he remained secretly among the congregations of the
faithful, till the last year of queen Mary, when he, with six others was taken
not far from St. John's Wood, and brought to Newgate upon May-day,
1558.
He was called before the bishop, Dr. Chedsey, the Harpsfields, &c. Dr.
Chedsey expressed much affection for him, and promised he should not
want any favour that he or his friends could procure, if he would not follow
his conceit. This was seconded by squire Eaglestone, a gentleman of
Lancashire, and a near kinsman of Holland's, who said, "I am sure your
honour means good to my cousin. I beseech God he may have the grace to
follow your counsel." Holland directly replied, "Sir, you crave of God you
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know not what. I beseech of God to open your eyes to see the light of his
blessed word." After some private communication among the
commissioners, Bonner said, "I perceive, Roger, you will not be ruled by
any counsel that I or my friends can give."
"I may say to you, my lord, as Paul said to Felix and to the Jews, in the 22d
of the Acts, and in the 15th of the first epistle to the Corinthians. It is not
unknown to my master, to whom I was apprenticed, that I was of your blind
religion--that which now is taught, and that I obstinately and wilfully
remained in it, till the latter end of king Edward. Having liberty under your
auricular confession, I made no conscience of sin, but trusted in the priests'
absolution, who for money did also some penance for me; which after I had
given, I cared no farther what offences I did, no more than he did after he
had my money, whether he tasted bread and water for me, or not: so that
lechery, swearing, and all other vices, I accounted no offence of danger, so
long as I could for money have them absolved. So straitly did I observe
your rules of religion, that I would have ashes upon Ash Wednesday,
though I had used ever so much wickedness at night. Though I could not in
conscience eat flesh upon the Friday, yet I made no conscience at all of
swearing, drinking, or gaming all night long: thus I was brought up, and
herein I have continued till now of late, when God hath opened the light of
his word, and called me by his grace to repent of my former idolatry and
wicked life; for in Lancashire their blindness and whoredom is much more,
than may with chaste ears be heard. Yet these my friends, who are not clear
in these notable crimes, think the priest with his mass can save them,
though they blaspheme God, and keep concubines besides their wives, as
long as they live. Yea, I know some priests, very devout, my lord, yet such
have six or seven children by four or five sundry women.
"Mr. Doctor, as to your antiquity, unity, and universality, (for these Dr.
Chedsey alleged as notes and tokens of their religion,) I am unlearned. I
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have no sophistry to shift my reasons with; but the truth I trust I have,
which needs no painted colours to set her forth. The antiquity of our church
is not from pope Nicholas, nor pope Joan, but our church is from the
beginning, even from the time that God said unto Adam, that the seed of
the woman should break the serpent's head; and so to faithful Noah; to
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to whom it was promised, that their seed should
multiply as the stars in the sky; and so to Moses, David, and all the holy
fathers that were from the beginning unto the birth of our Saviour Christ.
All who believed these promises were of the church, though the number
was oftentimes but few and small, as in Elias' days, who thought he was the
only one that had not bowed the knee to Baal, when God had reserved
seven thousand that never had bowed their knees to that idol: as I trust there
be seven hundred thousand more than I know of, that have not bowed their
knee to that idol your mass, and your God Maozim; in the upholding of
which is your bloody cruelty while you daily persecute Elias and the
servants of God, forcing them (as Daniel was in his chamber) closely to
serve the Lord their God; and even as we by this your cruelty are forced in
the fields to pray unto God, that his holy word may be once again truly
preached amongst us, and that he would mitigate and shorten these
idolatrous and bloody days wherein all cruelty reigns. Moreover, of our
church have been the apostles and evangelists, the martyrs and confessors
of Christ, who have at all times and in all ages been persecuted for the
testimony of the word of God. But for the upholding of your church and
religion, what antiquity can you show? The mass indeed, that idol and chief
pillar of your religion, is not yet four hundred years old, and some of your
masses are younger, as that of St. Thomas a Becket, the traitor, wherein you
pray, That you may be saved by the blood of St. Thomas. And as for your
Latin service, what are we of the laity the better for it? I think if any one
were to hear your priests mumble up their service, although he well
understood Latin, yet he would understand very few words of it, the priests
so champ them and chew them, and post so fast, that they neither
understand what they say, nor they that hear them; and in the mean time the
people, when they should pray with the priest, are set to their beads to pray
our Lady's Psalter. So crafty is Satan to devise these his dreams, (which you
defend with fagot and fire,) to quench the light of the word of God; which,
as David saith, should be a lantern to our feet. And again, Wherein shall a
CHAPTER XII. 389
young man direct his way, but by the word of God? and yet you will hide it
from us in a tongue unknown. St. Paul had rather have five words spoken
with understanding, than ten thousand in an unknown tongue, and yet will
you have your Latin service and praying in a strange tongue, whereof the
people are utterly ignorant, to be of such antiquity.
"The Greek church, and a good part of Christendom besides, never received
your service in an unknown tongue, but in their own natural language,
which all the people understand; neither your transubstantiation, your
receiving in one kind, your purgatory, your images, &c.
"As for the unity which is in your church, what is it but treason, murder,
poisoning one another, idolatry, superstition, and wickedness? What unity
was in your church, when there were three popes at once? Where was your
head of unity when you had a woman pope?" Here he was interrupted, and
was not suffered to proceed. The bishop said his words were blasphemous,
and ordered the keeper to take him away. Bonner observing, on his second
examination, that Holland said, he was willing to be instructed by the
church, (meaning the true church,) he ordered the keeper to let him want for
nothing, not even for money, by which conduct he hoped to inveigle him
from the truth. This, however, upon his last examination did not produce
the intended effect. Bonner spoke very handsomely to him, and assured him
his former hasty answers should not operate against him, as he himself (the
bishop) was sometimes too hasty, but it was soon over; he further said, that
he should have consigned him to his own ordinary for examination, but for
the particular interest he took in his welfare, for his and his friends' sake.
From this exordium he proceeded to the touchstone question of the real
presence in the mass.
"Do you not believe, that, after the priest hath spoken the words of
consecration, there remains the body of Christ, really and corporeally under
the forms of bread and wine? I mean the self-same body as was born of the
Virgin Mary, that was crucified upon the cross, that rose again the third
day." Holland replied, "Your lordship saith, the same body which was born
of the Virgin Mary, which was crucified upon the cross, which rose again
the third day: but you leave out 'which ascended into heaven;' and the
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Scripture saith, He shall remain until he come to judge the quick and the
dead. Then he is not contained under the forms of bread and wine, by Hoc
est corpus meum, &c."
Bonner, finding no impression could be made upon his firmness, and that
he himself could not endure to hear the mass, transubstantiation, and the
worshipping the sacrament, denominated impious and horrid idolatry,
pronounced the condemnatory sentence, adjudging him to be burnt.
During this fulmination, Holland stood very quiet, and when he was about
to depart, he begged permission to speak a few words. The bishop would
not hear him, but, at the intercession of a friend, he was permitted. In the
following speech, there is a spirit of prophecy which entitles it to particular
attention; they were not the words of a random enthusiast, but of one to
whom God seems to have given an assurance, that the present abject state
of his faithful people should shortly be altered.
Holland. "Even now I told you that your authority was from God, and by
his sufferance: and now I tell you God hath heard the voice of his servants,
which hath been poured forth with tears for his afflicted saints, whom you
daily persecute, as now you do us. But this I dare be bold in God to say, (by
whose Spirit I am moved,) that God will shorten your hand of cruelty, that
for a time you shall not molest his church. And this you shall in a short time
well perceive, my dear brethren, to be most true. For after this day, in this
place, there shall not be any by him put to the trial of fire and fagot;" and
after that day there were none that suffered in Smithfield for the truth of the
gospel.
In reply, Bonner said, "Roger, thou art, I perceive, as mad in these thy
heresies as ever was Joan Butcher. In anger and fume thou would become a
railing prophet. Though thou and all the rest of you would see me hanged,
yet I shall live to burn, yea, and I will burn all the sort of you that come into
my hands, that will not worship the blessed sacrament of the altar, for all
thy prattling;" and so he went his way.
CHAPTER XII. 391
Then Holland began to exhort his friends to repentance, and to think well of
them that suffered for the testimony of the gospel, upon which the bishop
came back, charging the keeper that no man should speak to them without
his license; if they did, they should be committed to prison. In the mean
time, Henry Pond and Holland spake to the people, exhorting them to stand
firm in the truth; adding, that God would shorten these cruel and evil days
for his elect's sake.
The day they suffered, a proclamation was made, prohibiting every one
from speaking or talking to, or receiving any thing from them, or touching
them, upon pain of imprisonment without either bail or mainprize.
Notwithstanding, the people cried out, "God strengthen them!" They also
prayed for the people, and the restoration of his word. Embracing the stake
and the reeds, Holland said these words:
"Lord, I most humbly thank thy Majesty, that thou hast called me from the
state of death unto the light of thy heavenly word, and now unto the
fellowship of thy saints, that I may sing and say, Holy, holy, holy, Lord
God of Hosts! And, Lord, into thy hands I commit my spirit! Lord, bless
these, thy people, and save them from idolatry." Thus he ended his life,
looking towards heaven, praying to, and praising God, with the rest of his
fellow saints. These seven martyrs were consumed, June 27, 1558.
The names of the six martyrs taken in company with those who were
apprehended in the close, near Islington, were R. Mills, S. Cotton, R.
Dynes, S. Wright, J. Slade, and W. Pikes, tanner. They were condemned by
Bonner's chancellor in one day, and the next day a writ was sent to
Brentford for their execution, which took place, July 14, 1558.
Flagellations by Bonner.
When this catholic hyena found that neither persuasions, threats, nor
imprisonment, could produce any alteration in the mind of a youth named
Thomas Hinshaw, he sent him to Fulham, and during the first night set him
in the stocks, with no other allowance than bread and water. The following
morning he came to see if this punishment had worked any change in his
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mind, and finding none, he sent Dr. Harpsfield, his archdeacon, to converse
with him. The Doctor was soon out of humour at his replies, called him
peevish boy, and asked him if he thought he went about to damn his soul?
"I am persuaded," said Thomas, "that you labour to promote the dark
kingdom of the devil, not for the love of the truth." These words the doctor
conveyed to the bishop, who, in a passion that almost prevented
articulation, came to Thomas, and said, "Dost thou answer my archdeacon
thus, thou naughty boy? But I'll soon handle thee well enough for it, be
assured!" Two willow twigs were then brought him, and causing the
unresisting youth to kneel against a long bench, in an arbour in his garden,
he scourged him till he was compelled to cease for want of breath and
fatigue, being of a punchy and full-bellied make. One of the rods was worn
quite away.
Many other conflicts did Hinshaw undergo from the bishop; who, at length,
to remove him effectually, procured false witnesses to lay articles against
him, all of which the young man denied, and, in short, refused to answer to
any interrogatories administered to him. A fortnight after this, the young
man was attacked by a burning ague, and at the request of his master, Mr.
Pugson, of St. Paul's church-yard, he was removed, the bishop not doubting
that he had given him his death in the natural way; he however remained ill
above a year, and in the mean time queen Mary died, by which act of
providence he escaped Bonner's rage.
John Willes was another faithful person, on whom the scourging hand of
Bonner fell. He was the brother of Richard Willes, before mentioned, burnt
at Brentford. Hinshaw and Willes were confined in Bonner's coal house
together, and afterward removed to Fulham, where he and Hinshaw
remained during eight or ten days, in the stocks. Bonner's persecuting spirit
betrayed itself in his treatment of Willes during his examinations, often
striking him on the head with a stick, seizing him by the ears, and filipping
him under the chin, saying he held down his head like a thief. This
producing no signs of recantation, he took him into his orchard, and in a
small arbour there he flogged him first with a willow rod, and then with
birch, till he was exhausted. This cruel ferocity arose from the answer of
the poor sufferer, who, upon being asked how long it was since he had
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crept to the cross, replied, "Not since he had come to years of discretion,
nor would he, though he should be torn to pieces by wild horses." Bonner
then bade him make the sign of the cross on his forehead, which he refused
to do, and thus was led to the orchard.
The communications that took place between Bonner and Willes are too
tedious to give in detail. The reader would smile to read the infatuated
simple reasons with which the bishop endeavoured to delude the ignorant.
He strongly urged the impropriety of his meddling with matters of
scripture; adding, "If thou wilt believe Luther, Zuinglius, and other
protestant authors, thou canst not go right; but in believing me, there can be
no error!--and, if there be, thy blood will be required at our hands. In
following Luther, and the heretics of latter days, now wilt thou come to the
place thou askest for?--They will lead thee to destruction, and burn thy
body and soul in hell, like all those who have been burnt in Smithfield."
What a sanguinary speech was this, to proceed from the mouth of one who
professed to be a minister of the gospel of peace, and a servant of the Lamb
of God!--Can we have an assurance that the same spirit does not reign now,
which reigned in this mitred catholic?
One day, when in the stocks, Bonner asked him how he liked his lodging
and fare. "Well enough," said Willes, "might I have a little straw to sit or lie
upon." Just at this time came in Willes' wife, then largely pregnant, and
entreated the bishop for her husband, boldly declaring that she would be
delivered in the house, if he were not suffered to go with her. To get rid of
the good wife's importunity, and the trouble of a lying-in woman in his
palace, he bade Willes make the sign of the cross, and say, In nomine
Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, Amen. Willes omitted the sign, and
repeated the words, "in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the
CHAPTER XII. 394
Holy Ghost, Amen." Bonner would have the words repeated in Latin, to
which Willes made no objection, knowing the meaning of the words. He
was then permitted to go home with his wife, his kinsman Robert Rouze
being charged to bring him to St. Paul's the next day, whither he himself
went, and, subscribing to a Latin instrument of little importance, was
liberated. This is the last of the twenty-two taken at Islington.
This devout aged person was curate to Dr. Taylor, at Hadley, and eminently
qualified for his sacred function. Dr. Taylor left him the curacy at his
departure, but no sooner had Mr. Newall gotten the benefice, than he
removed Mr. Yeoman, and substituted a Romish priest. After this he
wandered from place to place, exhorting all men to stand faithfully to God's
word, earnestly to give themselves unto prayer, with patience to bear the
cross now laid upon them for their trial, with boldness to confess the truth
before their adversaries, and with an undoubted hope to wait for the crown
and reward of eternal felicity. But when he perceived his adversaries lay
wait for him, he went into Kent, and with a little packet of laces, pins,
points, &c. he travelled from village to village, selling such things, and in
this manner subsisted himself, his wife, and children.
At last Justice Moile, of Kent, took Mr. Yeoman, and set him in the stocks
a day and a night; but, having no evident matter to charge him with, he let
him go again. Coming secretly again to Hadley, he tarried with his poor
wife, who kept him privately, in a chamber of the town-house, commonly
called the Guildhall, more than a year. During this time the good old father
abode in a chamber locked up all the day, spending his time in devout
prayer, in reading the Scriptures, and in carding the wool which his wife
spun. His wife also begged bread for herself and her children, by which
precarious means they supported themselves. Thus the saints of God
sustained hunger and misery, while the prophets of Baal lived in festivity,
and were costily pampered at Jezebel's table.
where the object of his search lay in bed with his wife. He reproached the
poor woman with being a whore, and would have indecently pulled the
clothes off, but Yeoman resisted both this act of violence and the attack
upon his wife's character, adding that he defied the pope and popery. He
was then taken out, and set in the stocks till day.
In the cage also with him was an old man, named John Dale, who had sat
there three or four days, for exhorting the people during the time service
was performing by Newall and his curate. His words were, "O miserable
and blind guides, will ye ever be blind leaders of the blind? will ye never
amend? will ye never see the truth of God's word? will neither God's threats
nor promises enter into your hearts? will the blood of the martyrs nothing
mollify your stony stomachs? O obdurate, hard-hearted, perverse, and
crooked generation! to whom nothing can do good."
When Yeoman was taken, the parson called earnestly upon Sir Henry Doile
to send them both to prison. Sir Henry Doile as earnestly entreated the
parson to consider the age of the men, and their mean condition; they were
neither persons of note nor preachers; wherefore he proposed to let them be
punished a day or two and to dismiss them, at least John Dale, who was no
priest, and therefore, as he had so long sat in the cage, he thought it
punishment enough for this time. When the parson heard this, he was
exceedingly mad, and in a great rage called them pestilent heretics, unfit to
live in the commonwealth of Christians. Sir Henry, fearing to appear too
merciful, Yeoman and Dale were pinioned, bound like thieves with their
legs under the horses' bellies, and carried to Bury jail, where they were laid
in irons; and because they continually rebuked popery, they were carried
into the lowest dungeon, where John Dale, through the jail-sickness and
evil-keeping, died soon after: his body was thrown out, and buried in the
fields. He was a man of sixty-six years of age, a weaver by occupation, well
learned in the holy Scriptures, steadfast in his confession of the true
CHAPTER XII. 396
doctrines of Christ as set forth in king Edward's time; for which he joyfully
suffered prison and chains, and from this worldly dungeon he departed in
Christ to eternal glory, and the blessed paradise of everlasting felicity.
After Dale's death, Yeoman was removed to Norwich prison, where, after
strait and evil keeping, he was examined upon his faith and religion, and
required to submit himself to his holy father the pope. "I defy him, (quoth
he,) and all his detestable abomination: I will in no wise have to do with
him." The chief articles objected to him, were his marriage and the mass
sacrifice. Finding he continued steadfast in the truth, he was condemned,
degraded, and not only burnt, but most cruelly tormented in the fire. Thus
he ended this poor and miserable life, and entered into that blessed bosom
of Abraham, enjoying with Lazarus that rest which God has prepared for
his elect.
Thomas Benbridge.
When standing at the stake he began to untie his points, and to prepare
himself; then he gave his gown to the keeper, by way of fee. His jerkin was
trimmed with gold lace, which he gave to Sir Richard Pecksal, the high
sheriff. His cap of velvet he took from his head, and threw away. Then,
lifting his mind to the Lord, he engaged in prayer.
CHAPTER XII. 397
When fastened to the stake, Dr. Seaton begged him to recant, and he should
have his pardon; but when he saw that nothing availed, he told the people
not to pray for him unless he would recant, no more than they would pray
for a dog.
Mr. Benbridge, standing at the stake with his hands together in such a
manner as the priest holds his hands in his Memento, Dr. Seaton came to
him again, and exhorted him to recant, to whom he said, "Away, Babylon,
away!" One that stood by said, Sir, cut his tongue out; another, a temporal
man, railed at him worse than Dr. Seaton had done.
When they saw he would not yield, they bade the tormentors to light the
pile, before he was in any way covered with fagots. The fire first took away
a piece of his beard, at which he did not shrink. Then it came on the other
side and took his legs, and the nether stockings of his hose being leather,
they made the fire pierce the sharper, so that the intolerable heat made him
exclaim, "I recant!" and suddenly he thrust the fire from him. Two or three
of his friends being by, wished to save him; they stepped to the fire to help
remove it, for which kindness they were sent to jail. The sheriff also of his
own authority took him from the stake, and remitted him to prison, for
which he was sent to the fleet, and lay there sometime. Before, however, he
was taken from the stake, Dr. Seaton wrote articles for him to subscribe to.
To these Mr. Benbridge made so many objections, that Dr. Seaton ordered
them to set fire again to the pile. Then with much pain and grief of heart he
subscribed to them upon a man's back.
This done, his gown was given him again, and he was led to prison. While
there, he wrote a letter to Dr. Seaton, recanting those words he spake at the
stake, and the articles which he had subscribed; for he was grieved that he
had ever signed them. The same day se'night he was again brought to the
stake, where the vile tormentors rather broiled than burnt him. The Lord
give his enemies repentance!
Not long before the sickness of queen Mary, in the beginning of August,
1558, four inoffensive humble martyrs were burnt at St. Edmundsbury with
very little examination. Neglect in attending the popish service at mass,
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which in vain they pleaded as a matter of conscience, was the cause of their
untimely sufferings and deaths. Their heroic names were J. Crooke, sawyer;
R. Miles, alias Plummer, sheerman; A. Lane, wheelright; and J. Ashley, a
bachelor.
Mrs. Prest.
death, they should leave to those who have effected sovereignty by fraud or
the sword; but where, except among a few miscreant emperors of Rome,
and the Roman pontiffs, shall we find one whose memory is so "damned to
everlasting fame" as that of queen Mary? Nations bewail the hour which
separates them forever from a beloved governor, but, with respect to that of
Mary, it was the most blessed time of her whole reign. Heaven has ordained
three great scourges for national sins--plague, pestilence, and famine. It was
the will of God in Mary's reign to bring a fourth upon this kingdom, under
the form of Papistical Persecution. It was sharp, but glorious; the fire which
consumed the martyrs has undermined the Popedom; and the Catholic
states, at present the most bigoted and unenlightened, are those which are
sunk lowest in the scale of moral dignity and political consequence. May
they remain so, till the pure light of the gospel shall dissipate the darkness
of fanaticism and superstition! But to return.
Mrs. Prest for some time lived about Cornwall, where she had a husband
and children, whose bigotry compelled her to frequent the abominations of
the church of Rome. Resolving to act as her conscience dictated, she
quitted them, and made a living by spinning. After some time, returning
home, she was accused by her neighbours, and brought to Exeter, to be
examined before Dr. Troubleville, and his chancellor Blackston. As this
martyr was accounted of inferior intellects, we shall put her in competition
with the bishop, and let the reader judge which had the most of that
knowledge conducive to everlasting life. The bishop bringing the question
to issue, respecting the bread and wine being flesh and blood, Mrs. Prest
said, "I will demand of you whether you can deny your creed, which says,
that Christ doth perpetually sit at the right hand of his Father, both body
and soul, until he come again; or whether he be there in heaven our
Advocate, and to make prayer for us unto God his Father? If he be so, he is
not here on earth in a piece of bread. If he be not here, and if he do not
dwell in temples made with hands, but in heaven, what! shall we seek him
here? If he did not offer his body once for all, why make you a new
offering? If with one offering he made all perfect, why do you with a false
offering make all imperfect? If he be to be worshipped in spirit and in truth,
why do you worship a piece of bread? If he be eaten and drunken in faith
and truth, if his flesh be not profitable to be among us, why do you say you
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make his flesh and blood, and say it is profitable for body and soul? Alas! I
am a poor woman, but rather than do as you do, I would live no longer. I
have said, Sir."
Bishop. I promise you, you are a jolly protestant. I pray you in what school
have you been brought up?
Mrs. Prest. I have upon the Sundays visited the sermons, and there have I
learned such things as are so fixed in my breast, that death shall not
separate them.
B. O foolish woman, who will waste his breath upon thee, or such as thou
art? But how chanceth it that thou wentest away from thy husband? If thou
wert an honest woman, thou wouldst not have left thy husband and
children, and run about the country like a fugitive.
Mrs. P. My husband and my children. For when I would have them to leave
idolatry, and to worship God in heaven, he would not hear me, but he with
his children rebuked me, and troubled me. I fled not for whoredom, nor for
theft, but because I would be no partaker with him and his of that foul idol
the mass; and wheresoever I was, as oft as I could, upon Sundays and
holydays, I made excuses not to go to the popish church.
B. Belike then you are a good housewife, to fly from your husband and the
church.
Mrs. P. Not your popish church, full of idols and abominations, but where
two or three are gathered together in the name of God, to that church will I
go as long as I live.
B. Belike then you have a church of your own. Well, let this mad woman be
put down to prison till we send for her husband.
Mrs. P. No, I have but one husband, who is here already in this city, and in
prison with me, from whom I will never depart.
Some persons present endeavouring to convince the bishop she was not in
her right senses, she was permitted to depart. The keeper of the bishop's
prisons took her into his house, where she either spun worked as a servant,
or walked about the city, discoursing upon the sacrament of the altar. Her
husband was sent for to take her home, but this she refused while the cause
of religion could be served. She was too active to be idle, and her
conversation, simple as they affected to think her, excited the attention of
several catholic priests and friars. They teazed her with questions, till she
answered them angrily, and this excited a laugh at her warmth.
Nay, said she, you have more need to weep than to laugh, and to be sorry
that ever you were born, to be the chaplains of that whore of Babylon. I
defy him and all his falsehood; and get you away from me, you do but
trouble my conscience. You would have me follow your doings; I will first
lose my life. I pray you depart.
Why, thou foolish woman, said they, we come to thee for thy profit and
soul's health. To which she replied, What profit ariseth by you, that teach
nothing but lies for truth? how save you souls, when you preach nothing
but lies, and destroy souls?
Do you not destroy your souls, when you teach the people to worship idols,
stocks and stones, the works of men's hands? and to worship a false God of
your own making of a piece of bread, and teach that the pope is God's vicar,
CHAPTER XII. 402
and hath power to forgive sins? and that there is a purgatory, when God's
Son hath by his passion purged all? and say you make God, and sacrifice
him, when Christ's body was a sacrifice once for all? Do you not teach the
people to number their sins in your ears, and say they will be damned if
they confess not all; when God's word saith, Who can number his sins? Do
you not promise them trentals and dirges, and masses for souls, and sell
your prayers for money, and make them buy pardons, and trust to such
foolish inventions of your imaginations? Do you not altogether act against
God? Do you not teach us to pray upon beads, and to pray unto saints, and
say they can pray for us? Do you not make holy water and holy bread to
fray devils? Do you not do a thousand more abominations? And yet you
say, you come for my profit, and to save my soul. No, no, one hath saved
me. Farewell, you with your salvation.
During the liberty granted her by the bishop, before-mentioned, she went
into St. Peter's church, and there found a skilful Dutchman, who was
affixing new noses to certain fine images which had been disfigured in king
Edward's time; to whom she said, What a madman art thou, to make them
new noses, which within a few days shall all lose their heads? The
Dutchman accused her and laid it hard to her change. And she said unto
him, Thou are accursed, and so are thy images. He called her a whore. Nay,
said she, thy images are whores, and thou art a whore-hunter; for doth not
God say, You go a whoring after strange gods, figures of your own
making? and thou art one of them. After this she was ordered to be
confined, and had no more liberty.
During the time of her imprisonment, many visited her, some sent by the
bishop, and some of their own will; among these was one Daniel, a great
preacher of the gospel, in the days of king Edward, about Cornwall and
Devonshire, but who, through the grievous persecution he had sustained,
had fallen off. Earnestly did she exhort him to repent with Peter, and to be
more constant in his profession.
Mrs. Walter Rauley and Mr. Wm. and John Kede, persons of great
respectability, bore ample testimony of her godly conversation, declaring,
that unless God were with her, it were impossible she could have so ably
CHAPTER XII. 403
defended the cause of Christ. Indeed, to sum up the character of this poor
woman, she united the serpent and the dove, abounding in the highest
wisdom joined to the greatest simplicity. She endured imprisonment,
threatenings, taunts, and the vilest epithets, but nothing could induce her to
swerve; her heart was fixed; she had cast anchor; nor could all the wounds
of persecution remove her from the rock on which her hopes of felicity
were built.
Such was her memory, that, without learning, she could tell in what chapter
any text of scripture was contained: on account of this singular property,
one Gregory Basset, a rank papist, said she was deranged, and talked as a
parrot, wild without meaning. At length, having tried every manner without
effect to make her nominally a catholic, they condemned her. After this,
one exhorted her to leave her opinions, and go home to her family, as she
was poor and illiterate. "True, (said she) though I am not learned, I am
content to be a witness of Christ's death, and I pray you make no longer
delay with me; for my heart is fixed, and I will never say otherwise, nor
turn to your superstitious doing."
There was perhaps something simply ludicrous in the form of Mrs. Prest, as
she was of a very short stature, thick set, and about fifty-four years of age;
but her countenance was cheerful and lively, as if prepared for the day of
her marriage with the Lamb. To mock at her form was an indirect
accusation of her Creator, who framed her after the fashion he liked best,
and gave her a mind that far excelled the transient endowments of
perishable flesh. When she was offered money, she rejected it, "because
(said she) I am going to a city where money bears no mastery, and while I
am here God has promised to feed me."
CHAPTER XII. 404
When sentence was read, condemning her to the flames, she lifted up her
voice and praised God, adding, "This day have I found that which I have
long sought." When they tempted her to recant,--"That will I not, (said she)
God forbid that I should lose the life eternal, for this carnal and short life. I
will never turn from my heavenly husband to my earthly husband; from the
fellowship of angels to mortal children; and if my husband and children be
faithful, then am I theirs. God is my father, God is my mother, God is my
sister, my brother, my kinsman; God is my friend, most faithful."
Being delivered to the sheriff, she was led by the officer to the place of
execution, without the walls of Exeter, called Sothenhey, where again the
superstitious priests assaulted her. While they were tying her to the stake,
she continued earnestly to exclaim "God be merciful to me, a sinner!"
Patiently enduring the devouring conflagration, she was consumed to ashes,
and thus ended a life which in unshaken fidelity to the cause of Christ, was
not surpassed by that of any preceding martyr.
Mr. Sharpe, weaver, of Bristol, was brought the 9th day of March, 1556,
before Mr. Dalby, chancellor of the city of Bristol, and after examination
concerning the sacrament of the altar, was persuaded to recant; and on the
29th, he was enjoined to make his recantation in the parish church. But,
scarcely had he publicly avowed his backsliding, before he felt in his
conscience such a tormenting fiend, that he was unable to work at his
occupation; hence, shortly after, one Sunday, he came into the parish
church, called Temple, and after high mass, stood up in the choir door, and
said with a loud voice, "Neighbours, bear me record that yonder idol
(pointing to the altar) is the greatest and most abominable that ever was;
and I am sorry that ever I denied my Lord God!" Notwithstanding the
constables were ordered to apprehend him, he was suffered to go out of the
church; but at night he was apprehended and carried to Newgate. Shortly
after, before the chancellor, denying the sacrament of the altar to be the
body and blood of Christ, he was condemned to be burned by Mr. Dalby.
He was burnt the 7th of May, 1558, and died godly, patiently, and
constantly, confessing the protestant articles of faith.
CHAPTER XII. 405
Thomas Banion, a weaver, was burnt on August 27th, of the same year, and
died for the sake of the evangelical cause of his Saviour.
With pleasure we have to record that these five martyrs were the last who
suffered in the reign of Mary for the sake of the protestant cause; but the
malice of the papists was conspicuous in hastening their martyrdom, which
might have been delayed till the event of the queen's illness was decided. It
is reported that the archdeacon of Canterbury, judging that the sudden death
of the queen would suspend the execution, travelled post from London, to
have the satisfaction of adding another page to the black list of papistical
sacrifices.
The articles against them were, as usual, the sacramental elements and the
idolatry of bending to images. They quoted St. John's words, "Beware of
images!" and respecting the real presence, they urged according to St. Paul,
"the things that be seen are temporal." When sentence was about to be read
against them, and excommunication take place in the regular form, John
Corneford, illuminated by the Holy Spirit, awfully turned the latter
proceeding against themselves, and in a solemn impressive manner,
recriminated their excommunication in the following words: "In the name
of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of the most mighty God, and by the power
of his holy Spirit, and the authority of his holy catholic and apostolic
church, we do here give into the hands of Satan to be destroyed, the bodies
of all those blasphemers and heretics that maintain any error against his
most holy word, or do condemn his most holy truth for heresy, to the
maintenance of any false church or foreign religion, so that by this thy just
judgment, O most mighty God, against thy adversaries, thy true religion
may be known to thy great glory and our comfort and to the edifying of all
our nation. Good Lord, so be it. Amen."
CHAPTER XII. 406
These five martyrs, when at the stake, earnestly prayed that their blood
might be the last shed, nor did they pray in vain. They died gloriously, and
perfected the number God had selected to hear witness of the truth in this
dreadful reign, whose names are recorded in the Book of Life;--though last,
not least among the saints made meet for immortality through the
redeeming blood of the Lamb!
Catharine Finlay, alias Knight, was first converted by her son's expounding
the Scriptures to her, which wrought in her a perfect work that terminated
in martyrdom. Alice Snoth at the stake sent for her grandmother and
godfather, and rehearsed to them the articles of her faith, and the
commandments of God, thereby convincing the world that she knew her
duty. She died calling upon the spectators to bear witness that she was a
Christian woman, and suffered joyfully for the testimony of Christ's gospel.
Clerkenwell, by trade a tailor, and only twenty-four years of age, had made
a blessed election; he was fixed secure in eternal hope, and depended on
Him who so builds his church that the gates of hell shall not prevail against
it. But alas! the very wife of his bosom, whose heart was hardened against
the truth, and whose mind was influenced by the teachers of false doctrine,
became his accuser. Brokenbery, a creature of the pope, and parson of the
parish, received the information of this wedded Delilah, in consequence of
which the poor man was apprehended. But here the awful judgment of an
ever-righteous God, "who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity," fell
upon this stone-hearted and perfidious woman; for no sooner was the
injured husband captured by her wicked contriving, than she also was
suddenly seized with madness, and exhibited an awful and awakening
instance of God's power to punish the evil doer. This dreadful circumstance
had some effect upon the hearts of the ungodly hunters who had eagerly
grasped their prey; but, in a relenting moment, they suffered him to remain
with his unworthy wife, to return her good for evil, and to comfort two
children, who, on his being sent to prison, would have been left without a
protector, or have become a burden to the parish. As bad men act from little
motives, we may place the indulgence shown him to the latter account.
We have noticed in the former part of our narratives of the martyrs, some
whose affection would have led them even to sacrifice their own lives, to
preserve their husbands; but here, agreeable to Scripture language, a mother
proves, indeed, a monster in nature! Neither conjugal nor maternal affection
could impress the heart of this disgraceful woman.
Upon examination, his judge finding him fixed to opinions which militated
against those nursed by superstition and maintained by cruelty he was
sentenced to confinement and torture in Lollard's Tower. "Here (says
honest Fox) he was put into the painful stocks, and had a dish of water set
by him, with a stone put into it, to what purpose God knoweth, except it
were to show that he should look for little other subsistence: which is
credible enough, if we consider their like practices upon divers before
mentioned in this history; as, among others, upon Richard Smith, who died
through their cruel imprisonment; touching whom, when a godly woman
came to Dr. Story to have leave that she might bury him, he asked her if he
had any straw or blood in his mouth; but what he means thereby, I leave to
the judgment of the wise."
On the first day of the third week of our martyr's sufferings, an object
presented itself to his view, which made him indeed feel his tortures with
all their force, and to execrate, with bitterness only short of cursing, the
author of his misery. To mark and punish the proceedings of his
tormentors, remained with the Most High, who noteth even the fall of a
CHAPTER XII. 409
In this bleeding and helpless state was the suffering infant, covered only
with his shirt, taken to his father by one of the actors in the horrid tragedy,
who, while he exhibited the heart-rending spectacle, made use of the vilest
taunts, and exulted in what he had done. The dutiful child, as if recovering
strength at the sight of his father, on his knees implored his blessing. "Alas!
Will," said the afflicted parent, in trembling amazement, "who hath done
this to thee!" The artless innocent related the circumstances that led to the
merciless correction which had been so basely inflicted on him; but when
he repeated the reproof bestowed on the chaplain, and which was prompted
by an undaunted spirit, he was torn from his weeping parent, and conveyed
again to the house, where he remained a close prisoner.
CHAPTER XII. 410
Bonner, somewhat fearful that what had been done could not be justified
even among the bloodhounds of his own voracious pack, concluded in his
dark and wicked mind, to release John Fetty, for a time at least, from the
severities he was enduring in the glorious cause of everlasting truth! whose
bright rewards are fixed beyond the boundaries of time, within the confines
of eternity; where the arrow of the wicked cannot wound, even "where
there shall be no more sorrowing for the blessed, who, in the mansion of
eternal bliss shall glorify the Lamb forever and ever." He was accordingly
by order of Bonner, (how disgraceful to all dignity, to say bishop!)
liberated from the painful bonds, and led from Lollard's Tower, to the
chamber of that ungodly and infamous butcher, where, says Fox, he found
the bishop bathing himself before a great fire; and at his first entering the
chamber, Fetty said, "God be here and peace!" "God be here and peace,
(said Bonner,) that is neither God speed nor good morrow!" "If ye kick
against this peace, (said Fetty,) then this is not the place that I seek for."
A chaplain of the bishop, standing by, turned the poor man about and
thinking to abash him, said, in mocking wise, "What have we here--a
player!" While Fetty was thus standing in the bishop's chamber, he espied,
hanging about the bishop's bed, a pair of great black beads, whereupon he
said, "My Lord, I think the hangman is not far off; for the halter (pointing
to the beads) is here already!" At which words the bishop was in a
marvellous rage. Then he immediately after espied also, standing in the
bishop's chamber, in the window, a little crucifix. Then he asked the bishop
what it was, and he answered, that it was Christ. "Was he handled as cruelly
as he is here pictured?" said Fetty. "Yea, that he was," said the bishop.
"And even so cruelly will you handle such as come before you; for you are
unto God's people as Caiaphas was unto Christ!" The bishop, being in a
great fury, said, "Thou art a vile heretic, and I will burn thee, or else I will
spend all I have, unto my gown." "Nay, my Lord, (said Fetty) you were
better to give it to some poor body, that he may pray for you." Bonner,
notwithstanding his passion, which was raised to the utmost by the calm
and pointed remarks of this observing Christian, thought it most prudent to
dismiss the father, on account of the nearly murdered child. His coward
soul trembled for the consequences which might ensue; fear is inseparable
from little minds; and this dastardly pampered priest experienced its effects
CHAPTER XII. 411
The father, on being dismissed, by the tyrant Bonner, went home with a
heavy heart, with his dying child, who did not survive many days the
cruelties which had been inflicted on him. How contrary to the will of our
great King and Prophet, who mildly taught his followers, was the conduct
of this sanguinary and false teacher, this vile apostate from his God to
Satan! But the arch-fiend had taken entire possession of his heart, and
guided every action of the sinner he had hardened: who, given up to terrible
destruction, was running the race of the wicked, marking his footsteps with
the blood of the saints, as if eager to arrive at the goal of eternal death.
The duke was immediately arrested, and Dr. Sands was compelled by the
university to give up his office. He was arrested by the queen's order, and
when Mr. Mildmay wondered that so learned a man could wilfully incur
danger, and speak against so good a princess as Mary, the doctor replied,
"If I would do as Mr. Mildmay has done, I need not fear bonds. He came
down armed against queen Mary; before a traitor--now a great friend. I
cannot with one mouth blow hot and cold in this manner." A general
plunder of Dr. Sands' property ensued, and he was brought to London upon
a wretched horse. Various insults he met on the way from the bigoted
catholics, and as he passed through Bishopsgate-street, a stone struck him
CHAPTER XII. 412
to the ground. He was the first prisoner that entered the tower, in that day,
on a religious account; his man was admitted with his Bible, but his shirts
and other articles were taken from him.
With doctor Sands was imprisoned Mr. Bradford; they were kept close in
prison twenty-nine weeks. John Fowler, their keeper, was a perverse papist,
yet, by often persuading him, at length he began to favour the gospel, and
was so persuaded in the true religion, that on a Sunday, when they had
mass in the chapel, Dr. Sands administered the communion to Bradford and
to Fowler. Thus Fowler was their son begotten in bonds. To make room for
Wyat and his accomplices, Dr. Sands and nine other preachers were sent to
the Marshalsea.
religion?" "Yes," quoth the doctor, "by God's grace!" "Truly," said the
keeper, "I love you the better for it; I did but tempt you: what favour I can
show you, you shall be assured of; and I shall think myself happy if I might
die at the stake with you." He was as good as his word, for he trusted the
doctor to walk in the fields alone, where he met with Mr. Bradford, who
was also a prisoner in the King's Bench, and had found the same favour
from his keeper. At his request, he put Mr. Saunders in along with him, to
be his bed-fellow, and the communion was administered to a great number
of communicants.
When Wyat with his army came to Southwark, he offered to liberate all the
imprisoned protestants, but Dr. Sands and the rest of the preachers refused
to accept freedom on such terms.
After Dr. Sands had been nine weeks prisoner in the Marshalsea, by the
mediation of Sir Thomas Holcroft, knight marshal, he was set at liberty.
Though Mr. Holcroft had the queen's warrant, the bishop commanded him
not to set Dr. Sands at liberty, until he had taken sureties of two gentlemen
with him, each one bound in £500, that Dr. Sands should not depart out of
the realm without license. Mr. Holcroft immediately after met with two
gentlemen of the north, friends and cousins to Dr. Sands, who offered to be
bound for him.
After dinner, the same day, Sir Thomas Holcroft sent for Dr. Sands to his
lodging at Westminster, to communicate to him all he had done. Dr. Sands
answered, "I give God thanks, who hath moved your heart to mind me so
well, that I think myself most bound unto you. God shall requite you, nor
shall I ever be found unthankful. But as you have dealt friendly with me, I
will also deal plainly with you. I came a freeman into prison; I will not go
forth a bondman. As I cannot benefit my friends, so will I not hurt them.
And if I be set at liberty, I will not tarry six days in this realm, if I may get
out. If therefore I may not get free forth, send me to the Marshalsea again,
and there you shall be sure of me."
This answer Mr. Holcroft much disapproved of; but like a true friend he
replied, "Seeing you cannot be altered, I will change my purpose, and yield
CHAPTER XII. 414
unto you. Come of it what will, I will set you at liberty; and seeing you
have a mind to go over sea, get you gone as quick as you can. One thing I
require of you, that, while you are there, you write nothing to me hither, for
this may undo me."
Dr. Sands having taken an affectionate farewell of him, and his other
friends in bonds, departed. He went by Winchester house, and there took
boat, and came to a friend's house in London, called William Banks, and
tarried there one night. The next night he went to another friend's house,
and there he heard that strict search was making for him, by Gardiner's
express order.
Dr. Sands now conveyed himself by night to one Mr. Berty's house, a
stranger who was in the Marshalsea prison with him a while; he was a good
protestant and dwelt in Mark-lake. There he was six days, and then
removed to one of his acquaintances in Cornhill; he caused his man
Quinton to provide two geldings for him, resolved on the morrow to ride
into Essex, to Mr. Sands, his father-in-law, where his wife was, which after
a narrow escape, he effected. He had not been there two hours, before Mr.
Sands was told that two of the guards would that night apprehend Dr.
Sands.
That night Dr. Sands was guided to an honest farmer's near the sea, where
he tarried two days and two nights in a chamber without company. After
that he removed to one James Mower's, a ship-master, who dwelt at
Milton-Shore, where he waited for a wind to Flanders. While he was there,
James Mower brought to him forty or fifty mariners, to whom he gave an
exhortation; they liked him so well, that they promised to die rather than he
should be apprehended.
The sixth of May, Sunday, the wind served. In taking leave of his hostess,
who had been married eight years without having a child, he gave her a fine
handkerchief and an old royal of gold, and said, "Be of good comfort;
before that one whole year be past, God shall give you a child, a boy." This
came to pass, for, that day twelvemonth, wanting one day, God gave her a
son.
CHAPTER XII. 415
Scarcely had he arrived at Antwerp, when he learned that king Philip had
sent to apprehend him. He next flew to Augsburgh, in Cleveland, where Dr.
Sands tarried fourteen days, and then travelled towards Strasburgh, where,
after he had lived one year, his wife came to him. He was sick of a flux
nine months, and had a child which died of the plague. His amiable wife at
length fell into a consumption, and died in his arms. When his wife was
dead, he went to Zurich, and there was in Peter Martyr's house for the space
of five weeks. As they sat at dinner one day, word was suddenly brought
that queen Mary was dead, and Dr. Sands was sent for by his friends at
Strasburgh, where he preached. Mr. Grindall and he came over to England,
and arrived in London the same day that queen Elizabeth was crowned.
This faithful servant of Christ, under queen Elizabeth, rose to the highest
distinctions in the church, being successively bishop of Worcester, bishop
of London, and archbishop of York.
among the highest of those who have sat on the English throne, almost nine
times that of her merciless sister!
Before Mary attained the crown, she treated her with a sisterly kindness,
but from that period her conduct was altered, and the most imperious
distance substituted. Though Elizabeth had no concern in the rebellion of
Sir Thomas Wyat, yet she was apprehended, and treated as a culprit in that
commotion. The manner too of her arrest was similar to the mind that
dictated it: the three cabinet members, whom she deputed to see the arrest
executed, rudely entered the chamber at ten o'clock at night, and, though
she was extremely ill, they could scarcely be induced to let her remain till
the following morning. Her enfeebled state permitted her to be moved only
by short stages in a journey of such length to London; but the princess,
though afflicted in person, had a consolation in mind which her sister never
could purchase: the people, through whom she passed on her way, pitied
her, and put up their prayers for her preservation. Arrived at court, she was
made a close prisoner for a fortnight, without knowing who was her
accuser, or seeing any one who could console or advise her. The charge
however was at length unmasked by Gardiner, who, with nineteen of the
council, accused her of abetting Wyat's conspiracy, which she religiously
affirmed to be false. Failing in this, they placed against her the transactions
of Sir Peter Carew in the west in which they were as unsuccessful as in the
former. The queen now signified, it was her pleasure she should be
committed to the Tower, a step which overwhelmed the princess with the
greatest alarm and uneasiness. In vain she hoped the queen's majesty would
not commit her to such a place; but there was no lenity to be expected; her
attendants were limited, and a hundred northern soldiers appointed to guard
her day and night.
On Palm-Sunday she was conducted to the Tower. When she came to the
palace garden, she cast her eyes towards the windows, eagerly anxious to
meet those of the queen, but she was disappointed. A strict order was given
in London, that every one should go to church, and carry palms, that she
might be conveyed without clamour or commiseration to her prison.
CHAPTER XII. 417
At the time of passing under London-bridge the fall of the tide made it very
dangerous, and the barge some time stuck fast against the starlings. To
mortify her the more, she was landed at Traitors' Stairs. As it rained fast,
and she was obliged to step in the water to land, she hesitated; but this
excited no complaisance in the lord in waiting. When she set her foot on the
steps, she exclaimed, "Here lands as true a subject, being prisoner, as ever
landed at these stairs; and before thee, O God, I speak it, having no friend
but thee alone!"
A large number of the wardens and servants of the Tower were arranged in
order, between whom the princess had to pass. Upon inquiring the use of
this parade, she was informed it was customary to do so. "If," said she, "it is
on account of me, I beseech you that they may be dismissed." On this the
poor men knelt down, and prayed that God would preserve her grace, for
which they were the next day turned out of their employments. The tragic
scene must have been deeply interesting, to see an amiable and
irreproachable princess sent like a lamb to languish in expectation of
cruelty and death; against whom there was no other charge than her
superiority in Christian virtues and acquired endowments. Her attendants
openly wept as she proceeded with a dignified step to the frowning
battlements of her destination. "Alas!" said Elizabeth, "what do you mean?
I took you to comfort, not to dismay me; for my truth is such, that no one
shall have cause to weep for me."
The next step of her enemies was to procure evidence by means which, in
the present day, are accounted detestable. Many poor prisoners were
racked, to extract, if possible, any matters of accusation which might affect
her life, and thereby gratify Gardiner's sanguinary disposition. He himself
came to examine her, respecting her removal from her house at Ashbridge
to Dunnington castle a long while before. The princess had quite forgotten
this trivial circumstance, and lord Arundel, after the investigation, kneeling
down, apologized for having troubled her in such a frivolous matter. "You
sift me narrowly," replied the princess, "but of this I am assured, that God
has appointed a limit to your proceedings; and so God forgive you all."
CHAPTER XII. 418
Her own gentlemen, who ought to have been her purveyors, and served her
provision, were compelled to give place to the common soldiers, at the
command of the constable of the Tower, who was in every respect a servile
tool of Gardiner,--her grace's friends, however, procured an order of
council which regulated this petty tyranny more to her satisfaction.
After having been a whole month in close confinement, she sent for the
lord Chamberlain and lord Chandois, to whom she represented the ill state
of her health from a want of proper air and exercise. Application being
made to the council, Elizabeth was with some difficulty admitted to walk in
the queen's lodgings, and afterwards in the garden, at which time the
prisoners on that side were attended by their keepers, and not suffered to
look down upon her. Their jealousy was excited by a child of four years
old, who daily brought flowers to the princess. The child was threatened
with a whipping, and the father ordered to keep him from the princess'
chambers.
On the 5th of May the constable was discharged from his office, and Sir
Henry Benifield appointed in his room, accompanied by a hundred
ruffian-looking soldiers in blue. This measure created considerable alarm in
the mind of the princess, who imagined it was preparatory to her
undergoing the same fate as lady Jane Gray, upon the same block. Assured
that this project was not in agitation, she entertained an idea that the new
keeper of the Tower was commissioned to make away with her privately, as
his equivocal character was in conformity with the ferocious inclination of
those by whom he was appointed.
A report now obtained that her grace was to be taken away by the new
constable and his soldiers, which in the sequel proved to be true. An order
of council was made for her removal to the manor of Woodstock, which
took place on Trinity Sunday, May 13, under the authority of Sir Henry
Benifield and Lord Tame. The ostensible cause of her removal was to make
room for other prisoners. Richmond was the first place they stopped at, and
here the princess slept, not however without much alarm at first, as her own
servants were superseded by the soldiers, who were placed as guards at her
chamber door. Upon representation, Lord Tame overruled this indecent
CHAPTER XII. 419
stretch of power, and granted her perfect safety while under his custody.
In passing through Windsor, she saw several of her poor dejected servants
waiting to see her. "Go to them," said she, to one of her attendants, "and say
these words from me, tanquim ovis, that is, like a sheep to the slaughter."
The next night her grace lodged at the house of a Mr. Dormer, in her way to
which the people manifested such tokens of loyal affection, that Sir Henry
was indignant, and bestowed on them very liberally the names of rebels and
traitors. In some villages they rang the bells for joy, imagining the
princess's arrival among them was from a very different cause; but this
harmless demonstration of gladness was sufficient with the persecuting
Benefield to order his soldiers to seize and set these humble persons in the
stocks.
The day following, her grace arrived at Lord Tame's house, where she staid
all night, and was most nobly entertained. This excited Sir Henry's
indignation, and made him caution Lord Tame to look well to his
proceedings; but the humanity of Lord Tame was not to be frightened, and
he returned a suitable reply. At another time, this official prodigal, to show
his consequence and disregard of good manners, went up into a chamber,
where was appointed for her grace a chair, two cushions, and a foot carpet,
wherein he presumptuously sat and called his man to pull off his boots. As
soon as it was known to the ladies and gentlemen, they laughed him to
scorn. When supper was done, he called to his lordship, and directed that
all gentlemen and ladies should withdraw home, marvelling much that he
would permit such a large company, considering the great charge he had
committed to him. "Sir Henry," said his lordship, "content yourself; all
shall be avoided, your men and all." "Nay, but my soldiers," replied Sir
Henry, "shall watch all night." Lord Tame answered, "There is no need."
"Well," said he, "need or need not, they shall so do."
The next day her grace took her journey from thence to Woodstock, where
she was enclosed, as before in the Tower of London, the soldiers keeping
guard within and without the walls, every day, to the number of sixty; and
in the night, without the walls were forty during all the time of her
CHAPTER XII. 420
imprisonment.
At length she was permitted to walk in the gardens, but under the most
severe restrictions, Sir Henry keeping the keys himself, and placing her
always under many bolts and locks, whence she was induced to call him
her jailer, at which he felt offended, and begged her to substitute the word
officer. After much earnest entreaty to the council, she obtained permission
to write to the queen; but the jailer, who brought her pen, ink, and paper
stood by her while she wrote, and, when she left off, he carried the things
away till they were wanted again. He also insisted upon carrying it himself
to the queen, but Elizabeth would not suffer him to be the bearer, and it was
presented by one of her gentlemen.
After the letter, doctors Owen and Wendy went to the princess, as the state
of her health rendered medical assistance necessary. They staid with her
five or six days, in which time she grew much better; they then returned to
the queen, and spoke flatteringly of the princess' submission and humility,
at which the queen seemed moved; but the bishops wanted a concession
that she had offended her majesty. Elizabeth spurned this indirect mode of
acknowledging herself guilty. "If I have offended," said she, "and am
guilty, I crave no mercy but the law, which I am certain I should have had
ere this, if any thing could have been proved against me. I wish I were as
clear from the peril of my enemies; then should I not be thus bolted and
locked up within walls and doors."
Much question arose at this time respecting the propriety of uniting the
princess to some foreigner, that she might quit the realm with a suitable
portion. One of the council had the brutality to urge the necessity of
beheading her, if the king (Philip) meant to keep the realm in peace; but the
Spaniards, detesting such a base thought, replied, "God forbid that our king
and master should consent to such an infamous proceeding!" Stimulated by
a noble principle, the Spaniards from this time repeatedly urged to the king
that it would do him the highest honour to liberate the lady Elizabeth, nor
was the king impervious to their solicitation. He took her out of prison, and
shortly after she was sent for to Hampton court. It may be remarked in this
place, that the fallacy of human reasoning is shown in every moment. The
CHAPTER XII. 421
She remained a fortnight strictly guarded and watched, before any one
dared to speak with her; at length the vile Gardiner with three more of the
council, came with great submission. Elizabeth saluted them, remarked that
she had been for a long time kept in solitary confinement, and begged they
would intercede with the king and queen to deliver her from prison.
Gardiner's visit was to draw from the princess a confession of her guilt; but
she was guarded against his subtlety, adding, that, rather than admit she had
done wrong, she would lie in prison all the rest of her life. The next day
Gardiner came again, and kneeling down, declared that the queen was
astonished she should persist in affirming that she was blameless--whence
it would be inferred that the queen had unjustly imprisoned her grace.
Gardiner farther informed her that the queen had declared that she must tell
another tale, before she could be set at liberty. "Then," replied the
high-minded Elizabeth, "I had rather be in prison with honesty and truth,
than have my liberty, and be suspected by her majesty. What I have said, I
will stand to; nor will I ever speak falsehood!" The bishop and his friends
then departed, leaving her locked up as before.
Seven days after the queen sent for Elizabeth at ten o'clock at night, two
years had elapsed since they had seen each other. It created terror in the
mind of the princess, who, at setting out, desired her gentlemen and ladies
to pray for her, as her return to them again was uncertain.
"If it do not," said Elizabeth, "I request neither favour nor pardon at your
majesty's hands." "Well," said the queen, "you stiffly still persevere in your
truth. Besides, you will not confess that you have not been wrongfully
punished."
"No, if it please your majesty: I have borne the burden, and must bear it. I
humbly beseech your majesty to have a good opinion of me and to think me
to be your subject, not only from the beginning hitherto, but for ever, as
long as life lasteth." They departed without any heart-felt satisfaction on
either side; nor can we think the conduct of Elizabeth displayed that
independence and fortitude which accompanies perfect innocence.
Elizabeth's admitting that she would not say neither to the queen nor to
others, that she had been unjustly punished, was in direct contradiction to
what she had told Gardiner, and must have arisen from some motive at this
time inexplicable.--King Philip is supposed to have been secretly concealed
during the interview, and to have been friendly to the princess.
In seven days from the time of her return to imprisonment, her severe jailer,
and his men were discharged, and she was set at liberty, under the
constraint of being always attended and watched by some of the queen's
council. Four of her gentlemen were sent to the Tower without any other
charge against them than being zealous servants of their mistress. This
event was soon after followed by the happy news of Gardiner's death, for
which all good and merciful men glorified God, inasmuch as it had taken
the chief tiger from the den, and rendered the life of the protestant
successor of Mary more secure.
This miscreant, while the princess was in the Tower, sent a secret writ,
signed by a few of the council, for her private execution, and, had Mr.
Bridges, lieutenant of the Tower, been as little scrupulous of dark
assassination as this pious prelate was, she must have perished. The warrant
not having the queen's signature, Mr. Bridges hastened to her majesty, to
CHAPTER XII. 423
give her information of it, and to know her mind. This was a plot of
Winchester's, who, to convict her of treasonable practices, caused several
prisoners to be racked; particularly Mr. Edmund Tremaine and Smithwicke
were offered considerable bribes to accuse the guiltless princess.
Her life was several times in danger. While at Woodstock, fire was
apparently put between the boards and ceiling under which she lay. It was
also reported strongly, that one Paul Penny, the keeper of Woodstock, a
notorious ruffian was appointed to assassinate her, but, however this might
be, God counteracted in this point the nefarious designs of the enemies of
the reformation. James Basset was another appointed to perform the same
deed: he was a peculiar favourite of Gardiner, and had come within a mile
of Woodstock, intending to speak with Benefield on the subject. The
goodness of God however so ordered it, that while Basset was travelling to
Woodstock, Benefield, by an order of council, was going to London; in
consequence of which, he left a positive order with his brother, that no man
should be admitted to the princess during his absence, not even with a note
from the queen; his brother met the murderer, but the latter's intention was
frustrated, as no admission could be obtained.
When Elizabeth quitted Woodstock, she left the following lines written
with her diamond on the window:--
Much suspected by me, Nothing proved can be. Quoth Elizabeth, prisoner.
With the life of Winchester ceased the extreme danger of the princess, as
many of her other secret enemies soon after followed him, and, last of all,
her cruel sister, who outlived Gardiner but three years. The death of Mary
was ascribed to several causes. The council endeavoured to console her in
her last moments, imagining it was the absence of her husband that lay
heavy at her heart, but though his treatment had some weight, the loss of
Calais, the last fortress possessed by the English in France, was the true
source of her sorrow. "Open my heart," said Mary, "when I am dead, and
you shall find Calais written there." Religion caused her no alarm; the
priests had lulled to rest every misgiving of conscience, which might have
obtruded, on account of the accusing spirits of the murdered martyrs. Not
CHAPTER XII. 424
the blood she had spilled, but the loss of a town, excited her emotions in
dying, and this last stroke seemed to be awarded, that her fanatical
persecution might be paralleled by her political imbecility. We earnestly
pray that the annals of no country, catholic or pagan, may ever be stained
with such a repetition of human sacrifices to papal power, and that the
detestation in which the character of Mary is holden, may be a beacon to
succeeding monarchs to avoid the rocks of fanaticism!
In the case of the martyr Mr. Bradford, the severity of Mr. Sheriff
Woodroffe has been noticed--he rejoiced at the death of the saints, and at
Mr. Rogers' execution, he broke the carman's head, because he stopped the
cart to let the martyr's children take a last farewell of him. Scarcely had Mr.
Woodroffe's sheriffalty expired a week, when he was struck with a
paralytic affection, and languished a few days in the most pitiable and
helpless condition, presenting a striking contrast to his former activity in
the cause of blood.
Ralph Lardyn, who betrayed the martyr George Eagles, is believed to have
been afterward arraigned and hanged in consequence of accusing himself.
At the bar, he denounced himself in these words, "This has most justly
fallen upon me, for betraying the innocent blood of that just and good man
George Eagles, who was here condemned in the time of Queen Mary by my
procurement, when I sold his blood for a little money."
away such trumpery, and said that he and other priests had been the cause
of his damnation, but that Abbes was saved.
Froling, a priest of much celebrity, fell down in the street and died on the
spot.
Sir Ralph Ellerker was eagerly desirous to see the heart taken out of Adam
Damlip, who was wrongfully put to death. Shortly after Sir Ralph was slain
by the French, who mangled him dreadfully, cut off his limbs, and tore his
heart out.
When Gardiner heard of the miserable end of Judge Hales, he called the
profession of the gospel a doctrine of desperation; but he forgot that the
judge's despondency arose after he had consented to the papistry. But with
more reason may this be said of the catholic tenets, if we consider the
miserable end of Dr. Pendleton, Gardiner, and most of the leading
persecutors. Gardiner, upon his death bed, was reminded by a bishop of
Peter denying his master. "Ah," said Gardiner, "I have denied with Peter,
CHAPTER XII. 427
Of the revilers of God's word, we detail, among many others, the following
occurrence. One William Maldon, living at Greenwich in servitude, was
instructing himself profitably in reading an English primer one winter's
evening. A serving man, named John Powell, sat by, and ridiculed all that
Maldon said, who cautioned him not to make a jest of the word of God.
Powell nevertheless continued, till Maldon came to certain English Prayers,
and read aloud, Lord, have mercy upon us, Christ have mercy upon us, &c.
Suddenly the reviler started, and exclaimed, Lord, have mercy upon us! He
was struck with the utmost terror of mind, said the evil spirit could not
abide that Christ should have any mercy upon him, and sunk into madness.
He was remitted to Bedlam, and became an awful warning that God will
not always be insulted with impunity.
Henry Smith, a student in the law, had a pious protestant father, of Camden,
in Gloucestershire, by whom he was virtuously educated. While studying
law in the middle temple, he was induced to profess catholicism, and, going
to Louvain, in France, he returned with pardons, crucifixes, and a great
freight of popish toys. Not content with these things, he openly reviled the
gospel religion he had been brought up in; but conscience one night
reproached him so dreadfully, that in a fit of despair he hung himself in his
garters. He was buried in a lane, without the Christian service being read
over him.
Dr. Story, whose name has been so often mentioned in the preceding pages,
was reserved to be cut off by public execution, a practice in which he had
taken great delight when in power. He is supposed to have had a hand in
most of the conflagrations in Mary's time, and was even ingenious in his
invention of new modes of inflicting torture. When Elizabeth came to the
throne, he was committed to prison, but unaccountably effected his escape
to the continent, to carry fire and sword there among the protestant
brethren. From the duke of Alva, at Antwerp, he received a special
CHAPTER XII. 428
commission to search all ships for contraband goods, and particularly for
English heretical books.
CHAPTER XIV.
Philip, king of Spain, husband to the deceased queen Mary of England, was
no less an enemy than that princess to the protestants. He had always
disliked the English, and after her death, determined, if possible, to crown
that infamous cruelty which had disgraced the whole progress of her reign,
by making a conquest of the island, and putting every protestant to death.
The great warlike preparations made by this monarch, though the purpose
was unknown, gave a universal alarm to the English nation; as, though he
had not declared that intention, yet it appeared evident that he was taking
measures to seize the crown of England. Pope Sixtus V. not less ambitious
than himself, and equally desirous of persecuting the protestants, urged him
to the enterprise. He excommunicated the queen, and published a crusade
against her, with the usual indulgences. 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 necessary
preparations for this mighty undertaking; and his fleet, which on account of
its prodigious strength, was called the "Invincible Armada," was now
completed. A consecrated banner was procured from the pope, and the gold
of Peru was lavished on the occasion.
unfaithfulness 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 Cardinal Allen
into Flanders, and renewed the bulls declaratory of Pope Pius the Fifth, and
Gregory the Thirteenth.
For the land fight, there were placed on the south shore twenty thousand;
and two armies beside were mustered of the choicest men for war. The one
CHAPTER XIV. 431
of these, which consisted of 1000 horse and twenty two thousand foot was
commanded by the earl of Leicester, and encamped at Tilbury, on the side
of the Thames. For the enemy was resolved first to set upon London. The
other army was commanded by the Lord Hunsdon, consisting of thirty-four
thousand foot, and two thousand horse, to guard the queen.
The Lord Gray, Sir Francis Knowles, Sir John Norris, Sir Richard
Bingham, Sir Roger Williams, men famously known for military
experience, were chosen to confer of the land-fight. These commanders
thought fit 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, Plymouth, Portland, the Isle of
Wight, Portsmouth, the open side of Kent, called the Downs, the Thames'
mouth, Harwich, Yarmouth, Hull, &c. That trained soldiers through all the
maratime provinces should meet upon warning given, to defend the places;
that they should by their best means, hinder the enemy from landing; and if
they did happen to land, then they were to destroy the fruits of the country
all about, 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 captain might be named in every shire which
might command.
Two years before, the duke of Parma, considering how hard a matter it was
to end the Belgic war, so long 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 fearing that the
friendship between 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 for peace; but so as still holding
the weapons in her hand.
CHAPTER XIV. 432
For this purpose, in February, delegates were sent into Flanders, the earl of
Derby, the lord Cobham, Sir James Croft, Dr. Dale, and Dr. Rogers. These
were received with all humanity on the duke's behalf, and a place appointed
for their treating, that they might see the authority delegated to him by the
Spanish king. He appointed the place near to Ostend, not in Ostend, which
at that time was held by the English against the Spanish king. His authority
delegated, he promised them to show, when they were once met together.
He wished them to make good speed in the business, lest somewhat might
fall out in the mean time, which might trouble the motions of peace.
Richardotus, spoke somewhat more plainly, That he knew not what in this
interim should be done against England.
Not long after, Dr. Rogers was sent to the prince, by an express
commandment from the queen, to know the truth, whether the Spaniards
had resolved to invade England, which he and Richardotus seemed to
signify. He affirmed, that he did not so much as think of the invasion of
England, when he wished that the business might proceed with speed; and
was in a manner offended with Richardotus, who denied that such words
fell from him.
At length the Spanish fleet, well furnished with men, ammunition, engines,
and all warlike preparations, the best, indeed, that ever was seen upon the
ocean, called by the arrogant title, The Invincible 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
Guzmannus, duke of Medina Sidonia; and under him Joannes Martinus
CHAPTER XIV. 433
The 30th of May they loosed out of the river Tagus, and bending their
course to the Groin, in Gallicia, they were beaten and scattered by a
tempest, three galleys, by the help of David Gwin, an English servant, and
by the perfidiousness of the Turks which rowed, were carried away into
France. The fleet, with much ado, after some days came to the Groin, and
other harbours near adjoining. The report was, that the fleet was so shaken
by this tempest, that the queen was persuaded, that she was not to expect
that fleet this year. And Sir Francis Walsingham, sec'y, wrote to the lord
admiral, that he might send back four of the greatest ships, as if the war had
been ended. But the lord admiral did not easily give credit to that report; yet
with a gentle answer entreated him to believe nothing hastily in so
important a matter: as also that he might be permitted to keep those ships
with him which he had, though it were upon his own charges. And getting a
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 enemy 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 Flanders, to advertise the duke of Parma, giving him warning
that the fleet was approaching, and therefore he was to make himself ready.
For Medina's commission was to join himself with the ships and soldiers of
Parma; and under the protection of his fleet to bring them into England, and
to land his forces upon the Thames side.
The sixteenth, day, (saith the relator,) there was a great calm, and a thick
cloud was upon the sea till noon; then the north wind blowing roughly; and
again the west wind till midnight, and after that the east; the Spanish navy
was scattered, and hardly gathered together until they came within sight of
England the nineteenth day of July. Upon which day, the lord admiral was
certified by Fleming, (who had been a pirate) that the Spanish fleet was
entered into the English sea, which the mariners call the Channel, and was
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descried near to the Lizard. The lord admiral brought forth the English fleet
into the sea, but not without great difficulty, by the skill, labour, and
alacrity of the soldiers and mariners, every one labouring; yea, the lord
admiral himself putting his hand to this work.
The next day the English fleet viewed the Spanish fleet coming along like
the towering castles in height, her front crooked like the fashion of the
moon, the wings of the fleet were extended one from the other about seven
miles, or as some say eight miles asunder, sailing with the labour of the
winds, the ocean as it were groaning under it, their sail was but slow, and
yet at full sail before the wind. The English were willing to let them hold
on their course, and when they were passed by, got behind them, and so got
to windward of them.
Upon the 21st of July, the lord admiral of England sent a cutter before,
called the Defiance, to denounce the battle by firing off pieces. And being
himself in the Royal-Arch, (the English admiral ship) he began the
engagement with a ship which he took to be the Spanish admiral, but which
was the ship of Alfonsus Leva. Upon that he expended much shot.
Presently Drake, Hawkins, and Forbisher, came in upon the rear of the
Spaniards which Ricaldus commanded.--Upon these they thundered.
Ricaldus endeavoured, as much as in him lay, to keep his men to their
quarters, but all in vain, until his ship, much beaten and battered with many
shot, hardly recovered the fleet. Then the duke of Medina gathered together
his scattered fleet, and setting more sail, held on his course. Indeed they
could do no other, for the English had gotten the advantage of the wind,
and their ships being much easier managed, and ready with incredible
celerity to come upon the enemy with a full course, and then to tack and
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, because there were forty ships more, which
were then absent, and at that very time were coming out of Plymouth
Sound.
The night following, the St. Catharine, a Spanish ship, being sadly torn in
the battle, was taken into the midst of the fleet to be repaired. Here a great
CHAPTER XIV. 435
The 23d of the same month, the Spaniards having a favourable north wind,
tacked towards the English; but they being more expert in the management
of their ships, tacked likewise, and kept the advantage they had gained,
keeping the Spaniards to leeward, till at last the fight became general on
both sides. They fought awhile confusedly with variable success: whilst on
the one side the English with great courage delivered the London ships
which were enclosed about by the Spaniards; and on the other side, the
Spaniards by valour freed Ricaldus from the extreme danger he was in;
great and many were the explosions, which, by the continued firing of great
CHAPTER XIV. 436
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 English, having such a fair mark at their large
ships, never shot in vain. During this engagement, Cock, an Englishman,
being surrounded by the Spanish ships, could not be recovered, but
perished; however, with great honour he revenged himself. Thus a long
time the English ships with great agility were sometimes upon the
Spaniards, giving them the fire of one side, and then of the other, and
presently were off again, and still kept the sea, to make themselves ready to
come in again. 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 admiral would not permit his people to board their
ships, because they had such a number of soldiers on board, which he had
not; their ships were many in number, and greater, and higher, that if they
had come to grapple, as many would have had it, the English being much
lower than the Spanish ships, must needs have had the worst of them that
fought from the higher ships. And if the English had been overcome, the
loss would have been greater than the victory could have been; for our
being overcome would have put the kingdom in hazard.
The 24th day of July they gave over fighting on both sides. The admiral
sent some small barks to the English shore for a supply of provisions, and
divided his whole fleet into four squadrons; the first whereof he took under
his own command, the next was commanded by Drake, the third by
Hawkins, and the last by Forbisher. And he appointed out of every
squadron certain little ships, which, on divers sides might set upon the
Spaniards in the night, but a sudden calm took them so that expedition was
without effect.
The 25th, the St. Anne, a galleon of Portugal, not being able to keep up
with the rest, was attacked by some small English ships. To whose aid
came in Leva, and Didacus Telles Enriques, with three galeasses; which the
admiral, and the Lord Thomas Howard, espying, made all the sail they
could against the galeasses, but the calm continuing, they were obliged to
be towed along with their boats; as soon as they reached the galeasses, they
began to play away so fiercely with their great guns, that with much danger,
CHAPTER XIV. 437
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 to the English ships than before, got terribly shattered with
their great guns, many men were killed aboard, and her masts laid over the
side. The Spanish admiral, after this, in company with Ricaldus, and others,
attacked the English admiral, who, having the advantage of the wind,
suddenly tacked and escaped. The Spaniards holding on their course again,
sent to the duke of Parma, that with all possible speed he should join his
ships with the king's fleet. These things the English knew not, who write
that they had carried away the lantern from one of the Spanish ships, the
stern from another, and sore mauled the third very much disabling her. The
Non-Parigly, and the Mary Rose, fought awhile with the Spaniards, and the
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 Townsend, 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 forward, and the English followed. This great Spanish Armada
was so far from being esteemed invincible in the opinion of the English,
that many young men and gentlemen, in hope to be partakers of a famous
victory against the Spaniards, provided ships at their own expense, and
joined themselves to the English fleet; among whom were the earls of
Essex, Northumberland, and Cumberland, Thomas and Robert Cecil, Henry
Brooks, William Hatton, Robert Cary, Ambrose Willoughby, Thomas
Gerard, Arthur George, and other gentlemen of good note and quality.
The 27th day, at even, the Spaniards cast anchor near to Calais, being
admonished by their skilful seamen, that if they went any further they
might be in danger, through the force of the tide, to be driven into the North
Ocean. Near to them lay the English admiral with his fleet, within a great
gun's shot. The admiral, Seimor and Winter, now join their ships; so that
now there were a hundred and forty ships in the English fleet, able, and
well furnished for fighting, for sailing, and every thing else which was
requisite; and yet there were but fifteen of these which bore the heat of the
CHAPTER XIV. 438
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 with the English,
because of the greatness and slowness of their ships, and the agility of the
English, entreating him by all means now to come to sea with his army,
which army was now to be protected as it were, under the wings of the
Spanish Armada, until they should land in England.
But the duke was unprovided, and could not come out in an instant. The
broad ships with flat bottoms being then full of chinks must be mended.
Victuals wanted, and must be provided. The mariners being long kept
against their wills, began to shrink away. The ports of Dunkirk and
Newport, by which he must bring his army to the sea, were now so beset
with the strong ships of Holland and Zealand, which were furnished with
great and small munition, that he was not able to come to sea, unless he
would come upon his own apparent 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
overcoming England.
But queen Elizabeth's providence and care prevented both the diligence of
this man, and the credulous hope of the Spaniard; for by her command the
next day the admiral took eight of their worst ships, charging the ordnance
therein up to the mouth with small shot, nails, and stones, and dressed them
with wild fire, pitch, and rosin, and filling them full of brimstone, and some
other matter fit for fire, and these being set on fire by the management of
Young and Prowse, were secretly in the night, by the help of the wind, set
full upon the Spanish fleet, which, on Sunday, the seventh of August, they
sent in among them as they lay at anchor.
When the Spanish saw them come near, the flames giving light all over the
sea, they supposing those ships, besides the danger of fire, to have been
also furnished with deadly engines, to make horrible destruction among
them; lifting up a most hideous cry, some pull up anchors, some for haste
cut their cables, they set up their sails, they apply their oars, and stricken
with extreme terror, in great haste they fled most confusedly. Among them
CHAPTER XIV. 439
the Pretorian Galleass floating upon the seas, her rudder being broken, in
great danger and fear drew towards Calais, and striking in the sand, was
taken by Amias Preston, Thomas Gerard, and Harvey; Hugh Moncada the
governor was slain, the soldiers and mariners were either killed or
drowned; in her there was found great store of gold, which fell to be the
prey of the English. The ship and ordnance went to the governor of Calais.
The Spaniards report, that the duke, when he saw the fire ships coming,
commanded all the fleet to heave up their anchors, but so as the danger
being past, every ship might return again to his own station; and he himself
returned, giving a sign to the rest by shooting off a gun; which was heard
but by a few, for they were far off scattered some into the open ocean, some
through fear were driven upon the shallows of the coast of Flanders.
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 Spaniards thought, because they saw them in a manner cast away; for
they could not avoid the shallows of Zealand. But the wind turning, they
got them out of the shallows, and then began to consult what were best for
them to do. By common consent they resolved to return into Spain by the
Northern Seas, for they wanted many necessaries, especially shot; their
ships were torn, and they had no hope that the duke of Parma could bring
forth his forces. And so they took the sea, and followed the course toward
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the north. The English navy followed, and sometimes the Spanish turned
upon the English, insomuch that it was thought by many that they would
turn back again.
Queen Elizabeth caused an army to encamp at Tilbury. After the army had
come thither, her majesty went in person to visit the camp, which then lay
between the city of London and the sea, under the charge of the earl of
Leicester, where placing herself between the enemy and her city, she
viewed her army, passing through it divers times, and lodging in the
borders of it, returned again and dined in the army. Afterwards when they
were all reduced into battle, prepared as it were for fight, she rode round
about with a leader's staff in her hand, only accompanied with the general,
and three or four others attending upon her.[A]
I could enlarge the description hereof with many more particulars of mine
own observation, (says the author,) for I wandered, as many others did,
from place to place, all the day, and never heard a word spoke of her, but in
praising her for her stately person and princely behaviour, in praying for
her long life, and earnestly desiring to 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 people, nor
her people show any discontent 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 of which letter was found upon Richard Leigh, a
seminary priest in French and English: which priest was executed for high
treason while the Spanish Armada was at sea.
The same day whereon the last fight was, the duke of Parma, after his vows
offered to the lady of Halla, came somewhat late to Dunkirk, and was
received with very opprobrious language by the Spaniards, as if in favour
of queen Elizabeth he had slipped the fairest opportunity that could be to do
the service. He, to make some satisfaction, punished the purveyors that had
CHAPTER XIV. 441
not made provision of beer, bread, &c. which was not yet ready nor
embarked, secretly smiling at the insolence of the Spaniards, when he heard
them bragging that what way soever they came upon England, they would
have an undoubted victory; that the English were not able to endure the
sight of them. The English admiral appointed Seimor and the Hollanders to
watch upon the coast of Flanders that the duke of Parma should not come
out; whilst he himself close followed the Spaniards until they were past
Edinburgh Frith.
The Spaniards, seeing all hopes fail, fled amain; and so this great navy,
being three years preparing with great expense, was within one month
overthrown, and, after many were killed, being chased again, was driven
about all England, by Scotland, the Oreades, and Ireland, tossed and
damaged with tempests, much diminished, and went home without glory.
There were not a hundred men of the English lost, and but one ship.
Whereupon money was coined with a navy fleeing away in full sail, with
this inscription, Venit, Vidit, Fugit. Others were coined with the ships on
fire, the navy confounded, inscribed, in honour of the queen, Dux Fæmina
Facti. As they fled, it is certain that many of their ships were cast away
upon the shores of Scotland and Ireland. About seven hundred soldiers and
mariners were cast away upon the Scottish shore, who, at the duke of
Parma's intercession with the Scotch king, the queen of England
consenting, were after a year sent into Flanders. But they that were cast
upon the Irish shore came to more miserable fortunes, for some were 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 king pleasantly answered that he looked for no other benefit from the
Spaniards, than that which Polyphemus promised to Ulysses, to devour him
last after his fellows were devoured.
It may not be improper here to subjoin a list of the different articles taken
on board the Spanish ships, designed for the tormenting of the protestants,
had their scheme taken effect.
1. The common soldiers' pikes, eighteen feet long, pointed with long sharp
spikes, and shod with iron, which were designed to keep off the horse, to
facilitate the landing of the infantry.
5. The banner, with a crucifix upon it, which was to have been carried
before the Spanish general. On it is engraved the pope's benediction before
the Spanish fleet sailed: for the pope came to the water side, and, on seeing
the fleet, blessed it, and styled it invincible.
6. The Spanish cravats, as they are called. These are engines of torture,
made of iron, and put on board to lock together the feet, arms and heads of
Englishmen.
7. Spanish bilboes, made of iron likewise, to yoke the English prisoners two
and two.
11. Thumb-screws, of which there were several chests full on board the
Spanish fleet. The use they were intended for is said to have been to extort
confession from the English where their money was hid.
12. The Spanish morning star; a destructive engine resembling the figure of
a star, of which there were many thousands on board, and all of them with
poisoned points; and were designed to strike at the enemy as they came on
board, in case of a close attack.
13. The Spanish general's halberd, covered with velvet. All the nails of this
weapon are double gilt with gold; and on its top is the pope's head,
curiously engraved.
15. The Spanish general's shield, carried before him as an ensign of honour.
On it are depicted, in most curious workmanship, the labours of Hercules,
and other expressive allegories.
When the Spanish prisoners were asked by some of the English what their
intentions were, had their expedition succeeded, they replied, "To extirpate
the whole from the island, at least all heretics (as they called the
protestants,) and to send their souls to hell." Strange infatuation! Ridiculous
bigotry! How prejudiced must the minds 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 come, merely because they refused to believe
on certain subjects as the Spaniards themselves did.
A conspiracy by the Papists for the destruction of James I., the royal
family, and both houses of Parliament; commonly known by the name of the
Gunpowder Plot.
The papists (of which there were great numbers in England at the time of
the intended Spanish invasion) were so irritated at the failure of that
expedition, that they were determined, if possible, to project a scheme at
home, that might answer the purposes, to some degree, of their
blood-thirsty competitors. The vigorous administration of Elizabeth,
however, prevented their carrying any of their iniquitous designs into
execution, although they made many attempts with that view. The
commencement of the reign of her successor was destined to be the era of a
plot, the barbarity of which transcends every thing related in ancient or
modern history.
The cabal who formed the resolution of putting in practice this horrid
scheme, consisted of the following persons:--Henry Garnet, an Englishman,
who, about the year 1586, had been sent to England as superior of the
English Jesuits; Catesby, an English gentleman; Tesmond, a Jesuit; Thomas
Wright; two gentlemen of the name of Winter; Thomas Percy, a near
relation of the earl of Northumberland; Guido Fawkes, a bold and
enterprising soldier of fortune; Sir Edward Digby; John Grant, Esq.;
Francis Tresham, Esq.; Robert Keyes and Thomas Bates, gentlemen.
Most of these were men both of birth and fortune; and Catesby, who had a
large estate, had already expended two thousand pounds in several voyages
to the court of Spain, in order to introduce an army of Spaniards into
England, for overturning the protestant government, and restoring the
Roman Catholic religion; but, being disappointed in this project of an
invasion, he took an opportunity of disclosing to Percy (who was his
intimate friend, and who, in a sudden fit of passion, had hinted a design of
assassinating the king) a nobler and more extensive plan of treason, such as
would include a sure execution of vengeance, and, at one blow, consign
over to destruction all their enemies.
These consultations were held in the spring and summer of the year 1604,
and it was towards the close of that year that they began their operations;
the manner of which, and the discovery, we shall relate with as much
brevity as is consistent with perspicuity.
It had been agreed that a few of the conspirators should run a mine below
the hall in which the parliament was to assemble, and that they should
choose the very moment when the king should deliver his speech to both
houses, for springing the mine, and thus, by one blow cut off the king, the
CHAPTER XIV. 446
royal family, lords, commons, and all the other enemies of the catholic
religion in that very spot where that religion has been most oppressed. For
this purpose, Percy, who was at that time a gentleman-pensioner undertook
to hire a house adjoining to the upper house of parliament with all
diligence. This was accordingly done, and the conspirators expecting the
parliament would meet on the 17th of February following, began, on the
11th of December, to dig in the cellar, through the wall of partition, which
was three yards thick. There was seven in number joined in this labour:
they went in by night, and never after appeared in sight, for, having
supplied themselves with all necessary provisions, they had no occasion to
go out. In case of discovery, they had provided themselves with powder,
shot, and fire arms, and formed a resolution rather to die than be taken.
On Candlemas-day, 1605, they had dug so far through the wall as to be able
to hear a noise on the other side: upon which unexpected event, fearing a
discovery, Guido Fawkes, (who personated Percy's footman,) was
despatched to know the occasion, and returned with the favourable report,
that the place from whence the noise came was a large cellar under the
upper house of parliament, full of sea-coal which was then on sale, and the
cellar offered to be let.
On this information, Percy immediately hired the cellar, and bought the
remainder of the coals: he then sent for thirty barrels of gunpowder from
Holland, and landing them at Lambeth, conveyed them gradually by night
to this cellar, where they were covered with stones, iron bars, a thousand
billets, and five hundred fagots; all which they did at their leisure, the
parliament being prorogued to the 5th of November.
This being done, the conspirators next consulted how they should secure
the duke of York,[B] who was too young to be expected at the parliament
house, and his sister, the Princess Elizabeth, educated at Lord Harrington's,
in Warwickshire. It was resolved, that Percy and another should enter into
the duke's chamber, and a dozen more, 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
CHAPTER XIV. 447
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
circumstance. One of the conspirators, having a desire to save William
Parker, Lord Monteagle, sent him the following letter:
"My Lord,
"Out of the love I bear to some of your friends, I have a care for your
preservation; therefore I advise you, as you tender your life, to devise you
some excuse to shift off your attendance at this parliament; for God and
man have concurred 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 danger is past
so soon (or as quickly) as you burn this letter; and I hope God will give you
the grace to make good use of it, to whose holy protection I commend you."
The Lord Monteagle was, for some time, at a loss what judgment to form of
this letter, and unresolved whether he should slight the advertisement or
not; and fancying it a trick of his enemies to frighten him into an absence
from parliament, would have determined on the former, had his own safety
been only in question: but apprehending the king's life might be in danger,
he took the letter at midnight to the earl of Salisbury, who was equally
CHAPTER XIV. 448
puzzled about the meaning of it; and though he was inclined to think it
merely a wild and waggish contrivance to alarm Monteagle, yet he thought
proper to consult about it with the earl of Suffolk, lord chamberlain. The
expression, "that the blow should come, without knowing who hurt them,"
made them imagine that it would not be more proper than the time of
parliament, nor by any other way likely to be attempted than by
gunpowder, while the king was sitting to 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,
Worcester, and Northampton, they proceeded no farther till the king came
from Royston, on the 1st of November.
His majesty being shown the letter by the earls, who, at the same time
acquainted him with their suspicions, was of opinion that either nothing
should be done, or else enough to prevent the danger: and that a search
should be made on the day preceding that designed for this execution of the
diabolical enterprise.
Though there was no other materials 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 body, or giving any alarm.
CHAPTER XIV. 449
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 evening in the
cellar, he went, about six o'clock, to his master, who had fled immediately,
apprehending the plot was detected.
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 adjoining counties.
Some escaped to Calais, and arriving there with others, who fled to avoid a
persecution which they apprehended on this occasion, were kindly received
by the governor; but one of them declaring before him, that he was not so
much concerned at his exile, as that the powder plot did not take effect, the
governor was so much incensed at his glorying in such an execrable piece
of iniquity, that, in a sudden impulse of indignation, he endeavoured to
throw him into the sea.
On the 27th of January, 1606, eight of the conspirators were tried and
convicted, among whom was Sir Everard Digby, the only one that pleaded
guilty to the indictment, though all the rest had confessed their guilt before.
Digby was executed on the 30th of the same month, with Robert Winter,
Grant, and Bates, at the west end of St. Paul's churchyard; Thomas Winter,
CHAPTER XIV. 451
Keyes, Rockwood, and Fawkes, were executed the following day in Old
Palace yard.
Garnet was tried on the 28th of March, "for his knowledge and concealment
of the conspiracy; for administering an oath of secrecy to the conspirators,
for persuading them of the lawfulness of the treason, and for praying for the
success of the great action in hand at the beginning of the parliament."
Being found guilty,[C] he received sentence of death, but was not executed
till the 3d of May, when, confessing his own guilt, and the iniquity of the
enterprise, he exhorted all Roman Catholics to abstain from the like
treasonable practices in future. Gerard and Hall, two Jesuits, got abroad;
and Littleton, with several others, were executed in the country.
The Lord Monteagle had a grant of two hundred pounds a year in land, and
a pension of five hundred pounds for life, as a reward for discovering the
letter which gave the first hint of the conspiracy; and the anniversary of this
providential deliverance was ordered to be for ever commemorated by
prayer and thanksgiving.
Thus was this diabolical scheme happily rendered abortive, and the authors
of it brought to that condign punishment which their wickedness merited.
In this affair Providence manifestly interposed in behalf of the protestants,
and saved them from that destruction which must have taken place had the
scheme succeeded according to the wishes of a bigoted, superstitious, and
blood-thirsty faction.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] The queen made the following animated speech to the troops assembled
at Tilbury:
"My loving people, we have been persuaded by some, that are careful of
our safety, to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed multitudes, for
fear of treachery, but I assure you, I do not desire to live to distrust my
faithful and loving people.--Let tyrants fear: I have always so behaved
myself, that under God, I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in
CHAPTER XIV. 452
the loyal hearts and good will of my subjects. And therefore I am come
among you at this time, not as for my recreation or sport, but being
resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die among you all, to
lay down, for my God, and for my kingdom, and for my people, my honour
and my blood, even in the dust. I know I have but the body of a weak and
feeble woman, but I have the heart of a king, and of a king of England too;
and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe, should
dare to invade the borders of my realms: To which rather than any
dishonour should grow by me, I myself will take up arms; I myself will be
your general, judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field. I
know already, by your forwardness, that you have deserved rewards and
crowns; and I do assure you, on the word of a prince, they shall be duly
paid you. In the mean time my lieutenant-general shall be in my stead, than
whom never prince commanded a more noble and worthy subject; not
doubting by your obedience to my general, by your concord in the camp,
and your valour in the field, we shall shortly have a famous victory over
those enemies of my God, of my kingdom, and of my people."
CHAPTER XV.
The gloom of popery had overshadowed Ireland from its first establishment
there till the reign of Henry VIII. when the rays of the gospel began to
dispel the darkness, and afford that light which till then had been unknown
in that island. The abject ignorance in which the people were held, with the
absurd and superstitious notions they entertained, were sufficiently evident
to many; and the artifices of their priests were so conspicuous, that several
persons of distinction, who had hitherto been strenuous papists, would
willingly have endeavoured to shake off the yoke, and embrace the
protestant religion; but the natural ferocity of the people, and their strong
attachment to the ridiculous doctrines which they had been taught, made
the attempt dangerous. It was, however, at length undertaken, though
attended with the most horrid and disastrous consequences.
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 cathedrals 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.
life, to cause the Irish nobility and gentry to acknowledge Henry as their
supreme head, in matters both spiritual and temporal; but had met with a
most violent opposition, especially from George, archbishop of Armagh;
that this prelate had, in a speech to his clergy, laid a curse on all those who
should own his highness'[D] supremacy: adding, that their isle, called in the
Chronicles Insula Sacra, or the Holy Island, belonged to none but the
bishop of Rome, and that the king's progenitors had received it from the
pope. He observed likewise, that the archbishop and clergy of Armagh, had
each despatched a courier to Rome; and that it would be necessary for a
parliament to be called in Ireland, to pass an act of supremacy, the people
not regarding the king's commission without the sanction of the legislative
assembly. He concluded with observing, that the popes had kept the people
in the most profound ignorance; that the clergy were exceedingly illiterate;
that the common people were more zealous, in their blindness, than the
saints and martyrs had been in the defence of truth at the beginning of the
gospel; and that it was to be feared Shan O'Neal, a chieftain of great power
in the northern part of the island, was decidedly opposed to the king's
commission.
Two years after this, the archbishop wrote a second letter to lord Cromwell,
complaining of the clergy, and hinting at the machinations which the pope
was then carrying on against the advocates of the gospel. This letter is
dated from Dublin, in April, 1538; and among other matters, the archbishop
says, "A bird may be taught to speak with as much sense as many of the
clergy do in this country. These, though not scholars, yet are crafty to cozen
CHAPTER XV. 455
the poor common people and to dissuade them from following his highness'
orders. The country folk here much hate your lordship, and despitefully call
you, in their Irish tongue, the Blacksmith's Son. As a friend, I desire your
lordship to look well to your noble person. Rome hath a great kindness for
the duke of Norfolk, and great favors 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 excommunication against
all who had, or should own the king's supremacy within the Irish nation;
denouncing a curse on all of them, and theirs, who should not, within forty
days, acknowledge to their confessors, that they had done amiss in so
doing.
How abominable a church must that be, which thus dares to trample upon
all authority! how besotted the people who regard the injunctions of such a
church!
CHAPTER XV. 456
Not long after this, Archbishop Browne seized one Thady O'Brian, a
Franciscan friar, who had in his possession a paper sent from Rome dated
May, 1538, and directed to O'Neal. In this letter were the following words:
"His holiness, Paul, now pope, and the council of the fathers, have lately
found, in Rome, a prophecy of one St. 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
heresy, and his holiness' enemies."
This Thady O'Brian, after farther examination and search made, was
pilloried, and kept close prisoner, till the king's orders arrived in what
manner he should be farther disposed of. But order coming over from
England that he was to be hanged, he laid violent hands on himself in the
castle of Dublin. His body was afterwards carried to Gallows-green, where,
after being hanged up for some time, it was interred.
After the accession of Edward VI. to the throne of England, an order was
directed to Sir Anthony Leger, the lord-deputy of Ireland, commanding that
the liturgy in English be forthwith set up in Ireland, there to be observed
within the several bishoprics, cathedrals, and parish churches; and it was
first read in Christ-church, Dublin, on Easter day, 1551, before the said Sir
Anthony, Archbishop Browne, and others. Part of the royal order for this
purpose was as follows: "Whereas, our gracious father, King Henry VIII.
taking into consideration the bondage and heavy yoke that his true and
faithful subjects sustained, under the jurisdiction of the bishop of Rome;
how several fabulous stories and lying wonders misled our subjects;
dispensing with the sins of our nations, by their indulgences and pardons,
for gain; purposely to cherish all evil vices, as robberies, rebellions, theft,
whoredoms, blasphemy, idolatry, &c. our gracious father hereupon
CHAPTER XV. 457
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-lieutenant, the archbishop
of Dublin, the privy-council, the lord-mayor, and a great congregation,
blood was seen to run through the crevices of the crown of thorns, and to
trickle down the face of the image. On this, some of the contrivers of the
imposture cried aloud: "See how our Saviour's image sweats blood! But it
must necessarily do this, since heresy is come into the church."
Immediately many of the lower order of people, indeed the vulgar of all
ranks, were terrified at the sight of so miraculous and undeniable an
evidence of the divine displeasure; they hastened from the church,
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
infallible church.
We have very few particulars as to the state of religion in Ireland during the
remaining portion of the reign of Edward VI. and the greater part of that of
Mary. Towards the conclusion of the barbarous sway of that relentless
bigot, she attempted to extend her inhuman persecutions to this island; but
her diabolical intentions were happily frustrated in the following
CHAPTER XV. 458
Mary had appointed Dr. Cole (an agent of the blood-thirsty Bonner) one of
the commissioners for carrying her barbarous intentions into effect. He
having arrived at Chester with his commission, the mayor of that city,
being a papist, waited upon him; when the doctor taking out of his
cloak-bag a leathern case, said to him, "Here is a commission that shall lash
the heretics of Ireland." The good woman of the house being a protestant,
and having a brother in Dublin, named John Edmunds, was greatly troubled
at what she heard. But watching her opportunity, whilst the mayor was
taking his leave, and the doctor politely accompanying him down stairs, she
opened the box, took out the commission, and in its stead laid a sheet of
paper, with a pack of cards, and the knave of clubs at top. The doctor, not
suspecting the trick that had been played him, put up the box, and arrived
with it in Dublin, in September, 1558.
Dr. Cole, however, would have directly returned to England to get another
commission; but waiting for a favourable wind, news arrived 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
historians of the greatest credit, who add, that queen Elizabeth settled a
pension of forty pounds per annum upon the above mentioned Elizabeth
Edmunds, for having thus saved the lives of her protestant subjects.
During the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. Ireland was almost constantly
agitated by rebellions and insurrections, which, although not always taking
their rise from the difference of religious opinions between the English and
Irish, were aggravated and rendered more bitter and irreconcilable from that
CHAPTER XV. 459
cause. The popish priests artfully exaggerated the faults of the English
government, and continually urged to their ignorant and prejudiced hearers
the lawfulness of killing the protestants, assuring them that all catholics
who were slain in the prosecution of so pious an enterprise, would be
immediately received into everlasting felicity. The naturally ungovernable
dispositions of the Irish, acted upon by these designing men, drove them
into continual 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 affections.
The Spaniards, too, by landing forces in the south, and giving every
encouragement to the discontented natives to join their standard, kept the
island in a continual state of turbulence and warfare. In 1601, they
disembarked a body of 4000 men at Kinsale, and commenced what they
called "the holy war for the preservation of the faith in Ireland;" they were
assisted by great numbers of the Irish, but were at length totally defeated by
the deputy, lord Mountjoy, and his officers.
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 family of the O'Neals and their followers.
CHAPTER XV. 460
A short time before the horrid conspiracy broke out, which we are now
going to relate, the papists 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 contrary, to which both houses of
parliament in England, solemnly answered, that they would never grant any
toleration to the popish religion in that kingdom.
This farther irritated the papists to put in execution the diabolical plot
concerted for the destruction of the protestants; and it failed not of the
success wished for by its malicious and rancorous projectors.
The design of this horrid conspiracy was, that a general insurrection should
take place at the same time throughout the kingdom, and that all the
protestants, without exception, should be murdered. The day fixed for this
horrid massacre, was the 23d of October, 1641, the feast of Ignatius
Loyola, founder of the Jesuits; and the chief conspirators, in the principal
parts of the kingdom, made the necessary preparations for the intended
conflict.
In order that this detested scheme might the more infallibly succeed, the
most distinguished artifices were practised by the papists; and their
behaviour in their visits to the protestants, at this time, was with more
seeming kindness than they had hitherto shown, which was done the more
completely to effect the inhuman and treacherous designs then meditating
against them.
The execution of this savage conspiracy was delayed till the approach of
winter, that sending troops from England might be attended with greater
difficulty. Cardinal Richelieu, the French minister, had promised the
conspirators a considerable supply of men and money; and many Irish
officers had given the strongest assurances that they would heartily concur
with their catholic brethren, as soon as the insurrection took place.
The day preceding that appointed for carrying this horrid design into
execution, was now arrived, when, happily for the metropolis of the
kingdom, the conspiracy was discovered by one Owen O'Connelly, an
CHAPTER XV. 461
Irishman, for which most signal service the English parliament voted him
500l. and a pension of 200l. during his life.
So very seasonably was this plot discovered, even but a few hours before
the city and castle of Dublin were to have been surprised, that the
lords-justices had but just time to put themselves, and the city, in a proper
posture of defence. The lord M'Guire, who was the principal leader here,
with his accomplices, were seized the same evening in the city; and in their
lodgings were found swords, hatchets, pole-axes, hammers, and such other
instruments of death as had been prepared for the destruction and
extirpation of the protestants in that part of the kingdom.
Thus was the metropolis happily preserved; but the bloody part of the
intended tragedy was past prevention. The conspirators were in arms all
over the kingdom early in the morning of the day appointed, and every
protestant who fell in their way was immediately murdered. No age, no sex,
no condition, was spared. The wife weeping for her butchered husband, and
embracing her helpless children, was pierced with them, and perished by
the same stroke. The old, the young, the vigorous, and the infirm,
underwent the same fate, and were blended in one common ruin. In vain
did flight save from the first assault, destruction was every where let loose,
and met the hunted victims at every turn. In vain was recourse had to
relations, to companions, to friends; all connexions were dissolved; and
death was dealt by that hand from which protection was implored and
expected. Without provocation, without opposition, the astonished English,
living in profound peace, and, as they thought, full security, were
massacred by their nearest neighbours, with whom they had long
maintained a continued intercourse of kindness and good offices. Nay, even
death was the slightest punishment inflicted by these monsters in human
form; all the tortures which wanton cruelty could invent, all the lingering
pains of body, the anguish of mind, the agonies of despair, could not satiate
revenge excited without injury, and cruelly derived from no just cause
whatever. Depraved nature, even perverted religion, though encouraged by
the utmost license, cannot reach to a greater pitch of ferocity than appeared
in these merciless barbarians. Even the weaker sex themselves, naturally
tender to their own sufferings, and compassionate to those of others, have
CHAPTER XV. 462
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 the defenceless
children of the English.
Nor was the avarice of the Irish sufficient to produce the least restraint 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 bigoted and merciless papists had no sooner begun to imbrue their
hands in blood, than they repeated the horrid tragedy day after day, and the
protestants in all parts of the kingdom fell victims to their fury by deaths of
the most unheard of cruelty.
The ignorant Irish were more strongly instigated to execute the 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, which they said would greatly tend to the
prosperity of the kingdom, and to the advancement of the Catholic cause.
They every where declared to the common people, that the protestants were
heretics, and ought not to be suffered to live any longer among them;
adding, that it was no more sin to kill an Englishman than to kill a dog; and
that the relieving or protecting them was a crime of the most unpardonable
nature.
CHAPTER XV. 463
The papists having besieged the town and castle of Longford, and the
inhabitants of the latter, who were protestants, surrendering on condition of
being allowed quarter, the besiegers, the instant the towns-people appeared,
attacked them in a most unmerciful manner, their priest, as a signal for the
rest to fall on, first ripping open the belly of the English protestant minister;
after which his followers murdered all the rest, some of whom they hung,
others were stabbed or shot and great numbers knocked on the head with
axes provided for the purpose.
The garrison at Sligo was treated in like manner by O'Connor Slygah; who,
upon the protestants quitting their holds, promised them quarter, and to
convey them safe over the Curlew mountains, to Roscommon. But he first
imprisoned them in a most loathsome jail, allowing them only grains for
their food. Afterward, 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 precipitated over the bridge into
a swift river, where they were soon destroyed. 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
purifying it from the stains and pollution of the blood and dead bodies of
the heretics, as they called the unfortunate protestants who were inhumanly
slaughtered at this very time.
At Kilmore, Dr. Bedell, bishop of that see, had charitably settled and
supported a great number of distressed protestants, who had fled from their
habitations to escape the diabolical cruelties committed by the papists. But
they did not long enjoy the consolation of living together; the good prelate
was forcibly dragged from his episcopal residence, which was immediately
occupied by Dr. Swiney, the popish titular bishop of Kilmore, who said
mass in the church the Sunday following, and then seized on all the goods
and effects belonging to the persecuted bishop.
Soon after this, the papists forced Dr. Bedell, his two sons, and the rest of
his family, with some of the chief of the protestants whom he had
protected, into a ruinous castle, called Lochwater, situated in a lake near the
CHAPTER XV. 464
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 means, as the season was cold, (it being in the month of
December) and the building in which they were confined open at the top,
they suffered the most severe hardships. They continued in this situation till
the 7th of January, when they were all released. The bishop was
courteously received into the house of Dennis O'Sheridan, one of his
clergy, whom he had made a convert to the church of England; but he did
not long survive this kindness. During his residence here, he spent the
whole of his time in religious exercises, the better to fit and prepare himself
and his sorrowful companions, for their great change as not 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 nature. Finding his dissolution at hand, he received it with
joy, like one of the primitive martyrs just hastening to his crown of glory.
After having addressed his little flock, and exhorted them to patience, in the
most pathetic manner, as they saw their own last day approaching, after
having solemnly blessed his people, his family, and his children, he
finished the course of his ministry and life together, on the 7th day of
February, 1642. His friends and relations applied to the intruding bishop for
leave to bury him, which was with difficulty obtained; he, at first telling
them that the churchyard was holy ground, and should be no longer defiled
with heretics: however, leave was at last granted, and though the church
funeral service was not used at the solemnity, (for fear of the Irish papists)
yet some of the better sort, who had the highest veneration for him while
living, attended his remains to the grave. At his interment, they discharged
a volley of shot, crying out, "Requiescat in pace ultimas Anglorum;" that is,
May the last of the English rest in peace. Adding, that as he was one of the
best so he should be the last English bishop found among them. His
learning was very extensive; and he would have given the world a greater
proof of it, had he printed all he wrote. Scarce any of his writings were
saved; the papists having destroyed most of his papers and his library. He
had gathered a vast heap of critical expositions of scripture, all which with
a great trunk full of his manuscripts, fell into the hands of the Irish. Happily
his great Hebrew MS. was preserved, and is now in the library of Emanuel
CHAPTER XV. 465
college, Oxford.
In the castle of Lisgool upwards of one hundred and fifty men, women, and
children, were all burnt together; and at the castle of Moneah not less than
one hundred were all put to the sword.--Great numbers were also murdered
at the castle of Tullah, which was delivered up to M'Guire on condition of
having fair quarter; but no sooner had that base villain got 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 centre of their backs on the axle-tree of a carriage, with their
legs resting on the ground on one side, and then arms and head on the other.
In this position one of the savages scourged the wretched object on the
thighs, legs, &c. while another set on furious dogs, who tore to pieces the
arms and upper parts of the body; and in this dreadful manner were they
deprived of their existence. Great numbers 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 gibbets,
and a fire being kindled under 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 nature. Some, in particular, were
fastened with their backs to strong posts, and being stripped to their waists,
the inhuman monsters cut off their right breasts with shears, which, of
CHAPTER XV. 466
course, put them to the most excruciating torments; and in this position they
were left, till, from the loss of blood, they expired.
Such was the savage ferocity of these barbarians, that even unborn 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 offsprings were taken from them, and
thrown to dogs and swine. And to increase the horrid scene, they would
oblige the husband to be a spectator before suffered himself.
In the same part of the country, at least four thousand persons were
drowned in different places. The inhuman papists, after first stripping them,
drove them like beasts to the spot fixed on 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 terror on the multitude, they
murdered some by the way.--Many of these poor wretches, when thrown
into the water, endeavoured to save themselves by swimming to the shore;
but their merciless persecutors prevented their endeavors taking effect by
shooting them in the water.
In one place one hundred and forty English, after being driven for many
miles stark naked, and in the most severe weather, were all murdered on the
CHAPTER XV. 467
same spot, some being hanged, others burnt, some shot, and many of them
buried alive; and so cruel were their tormentors, that they would not suffer
them to pray before they robbed them of their miserable existence.
Other companies they took under pretence of safe conduct, who, from that
consideration, proceeded cheerfully on their journey; but when the
treacherous papists had got them to a convenient spot, they butchered them
all in the most cruel manner.
One hundred and fifteen men, women, and children, were conducted, by
order of Sir Phelim O'Neal, to Porterdown bridge, where they were all
forced into the river, and drowned. One woman, named Campbell, finding
no probability of escaping, suddenly clasped one of the chief of the papists
in her arms, and held him so fast, that they were both drowned together.
At Casel they put all the protestants into a loathsome dungeon, where they
kept them together, for several weeks, in the greatest misery. At length they
were released, when some of them were barbarously mangled, and left on
the highways to perish at leisure; others were hanged, and some were
buried in the ground upright, with their heads above the earth, and the
CHAPTER XV. 468
papists, to increase their misery, treating them with derision during their
sufferings. In the county of Antrim they murdered nine hundred and
fifty-four protestants in one morning; and afterward about twelve hundred
more in that county.
Among other acts of cruelty they took two children belonging to an English
woman, 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 English woman with such savage barbarity, that she had
scarce a whole bone left; after which they threw her into a ditch; but not
satisfied with this, they took her child, a girl about six years of age and after
ripping up its belly, threw it to its mother, there to languish till it perished.
They forced one man to go to mass, after which they ripped open his body,
and in that manner left him. They sawed another asunder, cut the throat of
his wife, and after having dashed out the brains of their child, an infant,
threw it to the swine, who greedily devoured it.
After committing these, and several other horrid cruelties, they took the
heads of seven protestants, 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 greatest satisfaction at having
thus murdered and exposed the unhappy protestants.
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In one place they burnt two protestant Bibles, and then said they had burnt
hell-fire. In the church at Powerscourt they burnt the pulpit, pews, chests,
and Bibles belonging to it. They took other Bibles, and after wetting them
with dirty water, dashed them in the faces of the protestants, saying, "We
know you love a good lesson; here is an excellent one for you; come
to-morrow, and you shall have as good a sermon as this."
Some of the protestants they dragged by the hair of their heads into the
church, where they stripped and whipped them in the most cruel manner,
telling them, at the same time, "That if they came to-morrow, they should
hear the like sermon."
In Munster they put to death several ministers in the most shocking manner.
One, in particular, they stripped stark naked, and driving him before them,
pricked him with swords and darts 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 manner turned them into the fields, there to wander
out their miserable existence. They obliged many young men to force their
aged parents to a river, where they were drowned; wives to assist in
hanging their husbands; and mothers to cut the throats of their children.
CHAPTER XV. 470
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 the son to kill her, and afterward shot him through
the head.
At Clownes seventeen men were buried alive; and an Englishman, his wife,
five children, and a servant maid, were all hung together and afterward
thrown into a ditch. They hung many by the arms to branches of trees, with
a weight to their feet; and others by the middle, in which postures they left
them till they expired. Several were hung on windmills, and before they
were half dead, the barbarians cut them in pieces with their swords. Others,
both men, women, and children, they cut and hacked in various parts of
their bodies, and left them wallowing in their blood to perish where they
fell. One poor woman they hung on a gibbet, with her child, an infant about
a twelve-month old, the latter of whom was hung by the neck with the hair
of its mother's head, and in that manner finished its short but miserable
existence.
As the river Bann was not fordable, and the bridge broken down, the Irish
forced thither at different times, a great number of unarmed, defenceless
protestants, and with pikes and swords violently thrust above one thousand
into the river, where they miserably perished.
Nor did the cathedral of Armagh escape the fury of these barbarians, it
being maliciously set on fire by their leaders, and burnt to the ground. And
to extirpate, if possible, the very race of those unhappy protestants, who
lived in or near Armagh, the Irish first burnt all their houses, and then
gathered together many hundreds of those innocent people, young and old,
on pretence of allowing them a guard and safe conduct to Colerain; when
they treacherously fell on them by the way, and inhumanly murdered them.
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In the mean time ten thousand troops were sent from Scotland to the
remaining protestants in Ireland, which being properly divided in the most
capital parts of the kingdom, happily eclipsed the power of the Irish
savages; and the protestants for a time lived in tranquility.
In the reign of king James II. they were again interrupted, for in a
parliament held at Dublin in the year 1689, great numbers of the protestant
nobility, clergy, and gentry of Ireland, were attainted of high treason. The
government of the kingdom was, at that time, invested in the earl of
Tyrconnel, a bigoted papist, and an inveterate enemy to the protestants. By
his orders they were again persecuted in various parts of the kingdom. The
revenues of the city of Dublin were seized, and most of the churches
converted into prisons. And had it not been for the resolution and
uncommon bravery of the garrisons in the city of Londonderry, and the
town of Inniskillin, there had not one place remained for refuge to the
CHAPTER XV. 473
distressed 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 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 became at last so heavy, that for a considerable time
before the siege was raised, a pint of coarse barley, a small quantity of
greens, a few spoonfuls of starch, with a very moderate proportion of horse
flesh, 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 languished away, or fell dead in the streets. And it is
remarkable, that when their long expected succours arrived from England,
they were upon the point of being reduced to this alternative, either to
preserve their existence by eating each other, or attempting to fight their
way through the Irish, which must have infallibly produced their
destruction.
These succours were most happily brought by the ship Mountjoy of Derry,
and the Phoenix of Colerain, 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 seven thousand three hundred and sixty-one fighting men, were
reduced to four thousand three hundred, one-fourth part of whom were
rendered unserviceable.
As the calamities of the besieged were great, so likewise were the terrors
and sufferings of their protestant friends and relations; all of whom (even
CHAPTER XV. 474
women and children) were forcibly driven from the country thirty miles
round, and inhumanly reduced to the sad necessity of continuing some days
and nights without food or covering, before the walls of the town; and were
thus exposed to the continual fire both of the Irish army from without, and
the shot of their friends from within.
But the succours from England happily arriving put an end to their
affliction; and the siege was raised on the 31st of July, having been
continued upwards of three months.
The day before the siege of Londonderry was raised, the Inniskillers
engaged a body of six thousand Irish Roman catholics, at Newton, Butler,
or Crown-Castle, of whom near five thousand were slain. This, with the
defeat at Londonderry, dispirited the papists, and they gave up all farther
attempts to persecute the protestants.
The year following, viz. 1690; the Irish took up arms in favour of the
abdicated prince, king James II. but they were totally defeated by his
successor king William the Third. That monarch, before he left the country,
reduced them to a state of subjection, in which they have ever since
continued; and it is to be hoped will so remain as long as time shall be.
But notwithstanding all this, the protestant interest at present stands upon a
much stronger basis than it did a century ago. The Irish, who formerly led
an unsettled and roving life, in the woods, bogs, and mountains, and lived
on the depredation of their neighbours, they who, in the morning seized the
prey, and at night divided the spoil, have, for many years past, become
quiet and civilized. They taste the sweets of English society, and the
CHAPTER XV. 475
advantages of civil government. They trade in our cities, and are employed
in our manufactories. They are received also into English families; and
treated with great humanity by the protestants.
The heads of their clans, and the chiefs of the great Irish families, who
cruelly oppressed and tyrannized over their vassals, are now dwindled in a
great measure to nothing; and most of the ancient popish nobility and
gentry of Ireland have renounced the Romish religion.
FOOTNOTES:
[C] Although Garnet was convicted for this horrible crime, yet the bigoted
papists were so besotted as to look upon him as an object of devotion; they
fancied that miracles were wrought by his blood; and regarded him as a
martyr! Such is the deadening and perverting influence of popery.
[D] The king of England was at that time called highness, not majesty, as at
present.
CHAPTER XVI. 476
CHAPTER XVI.
after ministry and service." In the year 1646, he entirely forsook the
national church, in whose tenets he had been brought up, as before
observed; and in 1647, he travelled into Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire,
without any set purpose of visiting particular places, but in a solitary
manner he walked through several towns and villages, which way soever
his mind turned. "He fasted much," said Sewell, "and walked often in
retired places, with no other companion than his Bible." "He visited the
most retired and religious people in those parts," says Penn, "and some
there were, short of few, if any, in this nation, who waited for the
consolation of Israel night and day; as Zacharias, Anna, and Simeon, did of
old time." To these he was sent, and these he sought out in the
neighbouring counties, and among them he sojourned till his more ample
ministry came upon him. At this time he taught, and was an example of
silence, endeavouring to bring them from self-performances; testifying of,
and turning them to the light of Christ within them, and encouraging them
to wait in patience, and to feel the power of it to stir in their hearts, that
their knowledge and worship of God might stand in the power of an endless
life which was to be found in the light, as it was obeyed in the
manifestation of it in man: for in the word was life, and that life is the light
of men. Life in the word, light in men; and life in men too, as the light is
obeyed; the children of the light living by the life of the word, by which the
word begets them again to God, which is the generation and new birth,
without which there is no coming into the kingdom of God, and to which
whoever comes is greater than John: that is, than John's dispensation, which
was not that of the kingdom, but the consummation of the legal, and
forerunning of the gospel times, the time of the kingdom. Accordingly
several meetings were gathering in those parts; and thus his time was
employed for some years.
In the year 1652, "he had a visitation of the great work of God in the earth,
and of the way that he was to go forth, in a public ministry, to begin it." He
directed his course northward, "and in every place where he came, if not
before he came to it, he had his particular exercise and service shown to
him, so that the Lord was his leader indeed." He made great numbers of
converts to his opinions, and many pious and good men joined him in his
ministry. These were drawn forth especially to visit the public assemblies
CHAPTER XVI. 478
They were not without opposition in the work they imagined themselves
called to, being often set in the stocks, stoned, beaten, whipped and
imprisoned, though, as our author observes, honest men of good report, that
had left wives, children, houses, and lands, to visit them with a living call
to repentance. But these coercive methods rather forwarded than abated
their zeal, and in those parts they brought over many proselytes, and
amongst them several magistrates, and others of the better sort. They
apprehended the Lord had forbidden them to pull off their hats to any one,
high or low, and required them to speak to the people, without distinction,
in the language of thou and thee. They scrupled bidding people
good-morrow, or good-night, nor might they bend the knee to any one,
even in supreme authority. Both men and woman went in a plain and
simple dress, different from the fashion of the times. They neither gave nor
accepted any titles of respect or honour, nor would they call any man
master on earth. Several texts of scripture they quoted in defence of these
singularities; such as, Swear not at all. How can ye believe who receive
honour one of another, and seek not the honour which comes from God
only? &c. &c. They placed the basis of religion in an inward light, and an
extraordinary impulse of the Holy Spirit.
In 1654, their first separate meeting in London was held in the house of
Robert Dring, in Watling-street, for by that time they spread themselves
into all parts of the kingdom, and had in many places set up meetings or
assemblies, particularly in Lancashire, and the adjacent parts, but they were
still exposed to great persecutions and trials of every kind. One of them in a
letter to the protector, Oliver Cromwell, represents, though there are no
penal laws in force obliging men to comply with the established religion,
yet the Quakers are exposed upon other accounts; they are fined and
imprisoned for refusing to take an oath; for not paying their tithes; for
disturbing the public assemblies, and meeting in the streets, and places of
CHAPTER XVI. 479
public resort; some of them have been whipped for vagabonds, and for their
plain speeches to the magistrate.
Under favour of the then toleration, they opened their meetings at the Bull
and Mouth, in Aldersgate-street, where women, as well as men, were
moved to speak. Their zeal transported them to some extravagancies, which
laid them still more open to the lash of their enemies, who exercised
various severities upon them throughout the next reign. Upon the
suppression of Venner's mad insurrection, the government, having
published a proclamation, forbidding the Anabaptists, Quakers, and Fifth
Monarchy Men, to assemble or meet together under pretence of
worshipping God, except it be in some parochial church, chapel, or in
private houses, by consent of the persons there inhabiting, all meetings in
other places being declared to be unlawful and riotous, &c. &c. the Quakers
thought it expedient to address the king thereon, which they did in the
following words:
"Our desire is, that thou mayest live for ever in the fear of God, and thy
council. We beseech thee and thy council, to read these following lines in
tender bowels, and compassion for our souls, and for your good.
"And this consider, we are about four hundred imprisoned, in and about this
city, of men and women from their families, besides, in the county jails,
about ten hundred; we desire that our meetings may not be broken up, but
that all may come to a fair trial, that our innocency may be cleared up.
On the 28th of the same month, they published the declaration referred to in
their address, entitled, "A declaration from the harmless and innocent
people of God, called Quakers, against all sedition, plotters, and fighters in
the world, for removing the ground of jealousy and suspicion, from both
magistrates and people in the kingdom, concerning wars and fightings." It
was presented to the king the 21st day of the eleventh month, 1660, and he
CHAPTER XVI. 480
promised them upon his royal word, that they should not suffer for their
opinions, as long as they lived peaceably; but his promises were very little
regarded afterward.
This act had a most dreadful effect upon the Quakers, though it was well
known and notorious that these conscientious persons were far from
sedition or disaffection to the government. George Fox, in his address to
the king, acquaints him, that three thousand and sixty-eight of their friends
had been imprisoned since his majesty's restoration; that their meetings
were daily broken up by men with clubs and arms, and their friends thrown
into the water, and trampled under foot till the blood gushed out, which
gave rise to their meeting in the open streets. A relation was printed, signed
by twelve witnesses, which says, that more than four thousand two hundred
Quakers were imprisoned; and of them five hundred were in and about
CHAPTER XVI. 481
London, and the suburbs; several of whom were dead in the jails.
However, they even gloried in their sufferings, which increased every day;
so that in 1665, and the intermediate years, they were harassed without
example. As they persisted resolutely to assemble, openly, at the Bull and
Mouth, before mentioned, the soldiers, and other officers, dragged them
from thence to prison, till Newgate was filled with them, and multitudes
died of close confinement, in that and other jails.
Six hundred of them, says an account published at this time, were in prison,
merely for religion's sake, of whom several were banished to the
plantations. In short, says Mr. Neale, the Quakers gave such full
employment to the informers, that they had less leisure to attend the
meetings of other dissenters.
Yet, under all these calamities, they behaved with patience and modesty
towards the government, and upon occasion of the Rye-house plot in 1682,
thought proper to declare their innocence of that sham plot, in an address to
the king, wherein, appealing to the Searcher of all hearts, they say, their
principles do not allow them to take up defensive arms, much less to
avenge themselves for the injuries they received from others: that they
continually pray for the king's safety and preservation; and therefore take
this occasion humbly to beseech his majesty to compassionate their
suffering friends, with whom the jails are so filled, that they want air, to the
apparent hazard of their lives, and to the endangering an infection in divers
places. Besides, many houses, shops, barns, and fields are ransacked, and
the goods, corn, and cattle swept away, to the discouraging trade and
husbandry, and impoverishing great numbers of quiet and industrious
people; and this, for no other cause, but for the exercise of a tender
conscience in the worship of Almighty God, who is sovereign Lord and
King of men's consciences.
On the accession of James II. they addressed that monarch honestly and
plainly, telling him, "We are come to testify our sorrow for the death of our
good friend Charles, and our joy for thy being made our governor. We are
told thou art not of the persuasion of the church of England, no more than
CHAPTER XVI. 482
we; therefore we hope thou wilt grant us the same liberty which thou
allowest thyself, which doing, we wish thee all manner of happiness."
During the reign of king James II. these people were, through the
intercession of their friend Mr. Penn, treated with greater indulgence than
ever they had been before. They were now become extremely numerous in
many parts of the country, and the settlement of Pennsylvania taking place
soon after, many of them went over to America. There they enjoyed the
blessings of a peaceful government, and cultivated the arts of honest
industry.
As the whole colony was the property of Mr. Penn, so he invited people of
all denominations to come and settle with him. A universal liberty of
conscience took place; and in this new colony the natural rights of mankind
were, for the first time, established.
These Friends are, in the present age, a very harmless, inoffensive body of
people; but of that we shall take more notice hereafter. By their wise
regulations, they not only do honour to themselves, but they are of vast
service to the community.
3. Their testimony against wars and fighting, the practice of which they
judged inconsistent with the command of Christ: "Love your enemies," &c.
Matt. v. 44.
6. Their use of the proper and Scriptural language, "thou," and "thee," to a
single person: and their disuse of the custom of uncovering their heads, or
pulling off their hats, by way of homage to man.
mostly to those who sacrificed their lives, and evinced, by their disposition
of mind, constancy, patience, and faithful perseverance, that they were
influenced by a sense of religious duty.
Numerous and repeated were the persecutions against them; and sometimes
for transgressions or offences which the law did not contemplate or
embrace.
Many of the fines and penalties exacted of them, were not only
unreasonable and exorbitant, but as they could not consistently pay them,
were sometimes distrained to several times the value of the demand;
whereby many poor families were greatly distressed, and obliged to depend
on the assistance of their friends.
Numbers were not only cruelly beaten and whipped in a public manner, like
criminals, but some were branded and others had their ears cut off.
defend and maintain the said Quakers' heretical opinions, they shall be
committed to the house of correction till there be convenient passage to
send them out of the land, being sentenced by the court of Assistants to
banishment. Lastly, it is hereby ordered, that what person or persons
soever, shall revile the persons of the magistrates or ministers, as is usual
with the Quakers, such person or persons shall be severely whipped or pay
the sum of five pounds.
Quaker, he or she, that shall a third time herein again offend, they shall
have their tongues bored through with a hot iron, and be kept at the house
of correction close to work, till they be sent away at their own charge. And
it is further ordered, that all and every Quaker arising from among
ourselves, shall be dealt with, and suffer the like punishment as the law
provides against foreign Quakers.
"An Act made at a General Court, held at Boston, the 20th of October,
1658.
"For prevention thereof, this court doth order and enact, that any person or
persons, of the cursed sect of the Quakers, who is not an inhabitant of, but
is found within this jurisdiction, shall be apprehended without warrant,
where no magistrate is hand, by any constable commissioner, or
select-man, and conveyed from constable to constable, to the next
magistrate, who shall commit the said person to close prison, there to
remain (without bail) until the next court of Assistants, where they shall
CHAPTER XVI. 489
have legal trial. And being convicted to be of the sect of the Quakers, shall
be sentenced to banishment, on pain of death. And that every inhabitant of
this jurisdiction, being convicted to be of the aforesaid sect, either by taking
up, publishing, or defending the horrid opinions of the Quakers, or the
stirring up mutiny, sedition, or rebellion against the government, or by
taking up their abusive and destructive practices, viz. denying civil respect
to equals and superiors, and withdrawing from the church assemblies; and
instead thereof, frequenting meetings of their own, in opposition to our
church order; adhering to, or approving of any known Quaker, and the
tenets and practices of Quakers, that are opposite to the orthodox received
opinions of the godly; and endeaving to disaffect others to civil government
and church order, or condemning the practice and proceedings of this court
against the Quakers, manifesting thereby their complying with those, whose
design is to overthrow the order established in church and state: every such
person, upon conviction before the said court of Assistants, in manner
aforesaid, shall be committed to close prison for one month, and then,
unless they choose voluntarily to depart this jurisdiction, shall give bond
for their good behaviour and appear at the next court, where, continuing
obstinate, and refusing to retract and reform the aforesaid opinions, they
shall be sentenced to banishment, upon pain of death. And any one
magistrate, upon information given him of any such person, shall cause him
to be apprehended, and shall commit any such person to prison, according
to his discretion, until he come to trial as aforesaid."
It appears there were also laws passed in both of the then colonies of
New-Plymouth and New-Haven, and in the Dutch settlement at
New-Amsterdam, now New-York, prohibiting the people called Quakers,
from coming into those places, under severe penalties; in consequence of
which, some underwent considerable suffering.
The two first who were executed were William Robinson, merchant, of
London, and Marmaduke Stevenson, a countryman, of Yorkshire. These
coming to Boston, in the beginning of September, were sent for by the
court of Assistants, and there sentenced to banishment, on pain of death.
This sentence was passed also on Mary Dyar, mentioned hereafter, and
Nicholas Davis, who were both at Boston. But William Robinson, being
CHAPTER XVI. 490
"EDWARD RAWSON"
Though Mary Dyar and Nicholas Davis left that jurisdiction for that time,
yet Robinson and Stevenson, though they departed the town of Boston,
could not yet resolve (not being free in mind) to depart that jurisdiction,
though their lives were at stake. And so they went to Salem, and some
places thereabout, to visit and build up their friends in the faith. But it was
not long before they were taken, and put again into prison at Boston, and
chains locked to their legs. In the next month, Mary Dyar returned also.
And as she stood before the prison, speaking with one Christopher Holden,
who was come thither to inquire for a ship bound for England, whither he
intended to go, she was also taken into custody. Thus, they had now three
persons, who, according to their law, had forfeited their lives. And, on the
20th of October, these three were brought into court, where John Endicot
and others were assembled. And being called to the bar, Endicot
commanded the keeper to pull off their hats; and then said, that they had
made several laws to keep the Quakers from amongst them, and neither
CHAPTER XVI. 491
whipping, nor imprisoning, nor cutting off ears, nor banishing upon pain of
death, would keep them from amongst them. And further, he said, that he or
they desired not the death of any of them. Yet, notwithstanding, his
following words, without more ado, were, "Give ear, and hearken to your
sentence of death." Sentence of death was also passed upon Marmaduke
Stevenson, Mary Dyar, and William Edrid. Several others were imprisoned,
whipped, and fined. We have no disposition to justify the Pilgrims for these
proceedings, but we think, considering the circumstances of the age in
which they lived, their conduct admits of much palliation. The following
remarks of Mr. Hawes, in his tribute to the memory of the Pilgrims, are
worthy of serious consideration.
"It is alleged that they enacted laws which were oppressive to other
denominations, and, moreover, that they were actually guilty of
persecution. This, indeed, is a serious charge, and to some extent must be
admitted to be true. And yet whoever candidly examines the facts in the
case, will find abundant evidence that our fathers, in this respect, were far
from being sinners above all who have dwelt on the earth. Many of the laws
that are complained of were enacted when there were few or none of any
other denomination in the land. They were designed to protect and support
their own ecclesiastical and civil order; and not to operate at all as
persecuting or oppressive enactments against christians belonging to other
sects. It is also true that most of those persons who are said to have been
persecuted and oppressed, suffered not so much for their religious opinions,
as for their offences against the state. Some of them outraged all decency
and order, and committed such acts as would unquestionably, at the present
day, subject a man to imprisonment, if not to severer punishment.
"For a particular account of the causes for which Mr. Williams was
banished, see Hutchinson's History of Massachusetts, vol. 1, p. 41;
CHAPTER XVI. 492
Dwight's Travels, vol. 1, p. 142; Magnalia, vol. 2, p. 430. As for the laws
subsequently enacted against the Baptists and Quakers, no one most
certainly can justify them. They were oppressive and wrong. But let no one
reproach, too severely, the memory of our fathers, in this matter, till he is
certain, that in similar circumstances, he would have shown a better
temper.
"It is allowed that they were culpable; but we do not concede, that in the
present instance, they stood alone, or that they merited all the censure
bestowed on them. 'Laws similar to those of Massachusetts were passed
elsewhere against the Quakers and also against the Baptists, particularly in
Virginia. If no execution took place here, it was not owing to the
moderation of the church.'"--Jefferson Virg. Query, XVIII.
"The prevalent opinion among most sects of christians, at that day, that
toleration is sinful, ought to be remembered; nor should it be forgotten, that
the first Quakers in New England, besides speaking and writing what was
deemed blasphemous, reviled magistrates and ministers, and disturbed
religious assemblies; and that the tendency of their opinions and practices
was to the subversion of the commonwealth in the period of its
infancy."--Holmes' Am. Annals. Hutch. vol. 1, p. 180-9.
"It should be added, that in Massachusetts the law which enacted that all
Quakers returning into the state after banishment, should be punished with
death, and under which four persons were executed, met with great, and at
first, successful opposition. The deputies, who constituted the popular
branch of the legislature, at first rejected it; but afterwards, on
reconsideration, concurred with the magistrates, (by whom it was originally
proposed,) by a majority of only one."--Chr. Spect. 1830, p. 266.
CHAPTER XVII.
The persecution in this protestant part of France continued with very little
intermission from the revocation of the edict of Nantes, by Louis XIV. till a
very short period previous to the commencement of the late French
revolution. In the year 1785, M. Rebaut St. Etienne and the celebrated M.
de la Fayette were among the first persons who interested themselves with
the court of Louis XVI., in removing the scourge of persecution from this
injured people, the inhabitants of the south of France.
Such was the opposition on the part of the catholics and the courtiers, that it
was not till the end of the year 1790, that the protestants were freed from
their alarms. Previously to this, the catholics at Nismes in particular, had
taken up arms; Nismes then presented a frightful spectacle; armed men ran
through the city, fired from the corners of the streets, and attacked all they
met with swords and forks. A man named Astuc was wounded and thrown
into the aqueduct; Baudon fell under the repeated strokes of bayonets and
sabres, and his body was also thrown into the water; Boucher, a young man
only 17 years of age, was shot as he was looking out of his window; three
electors wounded, one dangerously; another elector wounded, only escaped
death by repeatedly declaring he was a catholic; a third received four sabre
wounds, and was taken home dreadfully mangled. The citizens that fled
were arrested by the catholics upon the roads, and obliged to give proofs of
their religion before their lives were granted. M. and Madame Vogue, were
at their country house, which the zealots broke open, where they massacred
both, and destroyed their dwelling. M. Blacher, a protestant seventy years
of age, was cut to pieces with a sickle; young Pyerre, carrying some food to
his brother, was asked, "Catholic or protestant?" "Protestant," being the
reply, a monster fired at the lad, and he fell. One of the murderer's
companions said, "you might as well have killed a lamb." "I have sworn,"
replied he, "to kill four protestants for my share, and this will count for
one." However, as these atrocities provoked the troops to unite in defence
of the people, a terrible vengeance was retaliated upon the catholic party
CHAPTER XVII. 495
that had used arms, which with other circumstances, especially the
toleration exercised by Napoleon Buonaparte, kept them down completely
till the year 1814, when the unexpected return of the ancient government
rallied them all once more round the old banners.
them in effigy; but this was prevented by the mayor of Nismes, a protestant.
A dreadful song presented to the prefect, in the country dialect, with a false
translation, was printed by his approval, and had a great run before he saw
the extent of the error into which he had been betrayed. The sixty-third
regiment of the line was publicly censured and insulted, for having,
according to order, protected protestants. In fact, the protestants seemed to
be as sheep destined for the slaughter.
Soon after this event, the duke d'Angouleme was at Nismes, and remained
there some time; but even his influence was insufficient to bring about a
reconciliation between the catholics and the protestants of that city. During
the hundred days betwixt Napoleon's return from the Isle of Elba, and his
final downfall, not a single life was lost in Nismes, not a single house was
pillaged; only four of the most notorious disturbers of the peace were
punished, or rather prevented from doing mischief, and even this was not
an act of the protestant but the arrete of the catholic prefect, announced
every where with the utmost publicity. Some time after, when M. Baron,
who proposed the vow of the silver child in favour of the Duchess
d'Angouleme, who was considered as the chief of the catholic royalists, was
discovered at the bottom of an old wine tun, the populace threw stones at
his carriage, and vented their feelings in abusive language. The protestant
officers protected him from injury.
granting them an armistice; and yet when Louis XVIII. had returned to
Paris, after the expiration of Napoleon's reign of a hundred days, and peace
and party spirit seemed to have been subdued, even at Nismes, bands from
Beaucaire joined Trestaillon in this city, to glut the vengeance they had so
long premeditated. General Gilly had left the department several days: the
troops of the line left behind had taken the white cockade, and waited
farther orders, whilst the new commissioners had only to proclaim the
cessation of hostilities, and the complete establishment of the king's
authority. In vain, no commissioners appeared, no despatches arrived to
calm and regulate the public mind; but towards evening the advanced guard
of the banditti, to the amount of several hundreds, entered the city,
undesired but unopposed. As they marched without order or discipline,
covered with clothes or rags of all colours, decorated with cockades not
white, but white and green, armed with muskets, sabres, forks, pistols and
reaping hooks, intoxicated with wine, and stained with the blood of the
protestants whom they had murdered on their route, they presented a most
hideous and appalling spectacle. In the open place in the front of the
barracks, this banditti was joined by the city armed mob, headed by Jaques
Dupont, commonly called Trestaillon. To save the effusion of blood, this
garrison of about 500 men consented to capitulate, and marched out sad and
defenceless; but when about fifty had passed, the rabble commenced a
tremendous fire on their confiding and unprotected victims; nearly all were
killed or wounded, and but very few could re-enter the yard before the
garrison gates were again closed. These were again forced in an instant, and
all were massacred who could not climb over roofs, or leap into the
adjoining gardens. In a word, death met them in every place and in every
shape and this catholic massacre rivalled in cruelty, and surpassed in
treachery, the crimes of the September assassins of Paris and the
Jacobinical butcheries of Lyons and Avignon. It was marked, not only by
the fervour of the revolution, but by the subtlety of the league, and will
long remain a blot upon the history of the second restoration.
Nismes now exhibited a most awful scene of outrage and carnage, though
many of the protestants had fled to the Convennes and the Gardonenque.
CHAPTER XVII. 499
The country houses of Messrs. Rey, Guiret, and several others, had been
pillaged, and the inhabitants treated with wanton barbarity. Two parties had
glutted their savage appetites on the farm of Madame Frat: the first, after
eating, drinking, and breaking the furniture, and stealing what they thought
proper, took leave by announcing the arrival of their comrades, "compared
with whom," they said, "they should be thought merciful." Three men and
an old woman were left on the premises: at the sight of the second company
two of the men fled. "Are you a catholic?" said the banditti to the old
woman. "Yes." "Repeat, then, your Pater and Ave." Being terrified she
hesitated, and was instantly knocked down with a musket. On recovering
her senses, she stole out of the house, but met Ladet, the old valet de ferme,
bringing in a salad which the depredators had ordered him to cut. In vain
she endeavoured to persuade him to fly. "Are you a protestant?" they
exclaimed; "I am." A musket being discharged at him, he fell wounded, but
not dead. To consummate their work, the monsters lighted a fire with straw
and boards, threw their yet living victim into the flames, and suffered him
to expire in the most dreadful agonies. They then ate their salad, omelet,
&c. The next day, some labourers, seeing the house open and deserted,
entered and discovered the half consumed body of Ladet. The prefect of the
Gard, M. Darbaud Jouques, attempting to palliate the crimes of the
catholics, had the audacity to assert that Ladet was a catholic; but this was
publicly contradicted by two of the pastors at Nismes.
Near the barracks at Nismes is a large and handsome house, the property of
M. Vitte, which he acquired by exertion and economy. Besides comfortable
lodgings for his own family, he let more than twenty chambers, mostly
occupied by superior officers and commissaries of the army. He never
inquired the opinion of his tenants, and of course his guests were persons of
all political parties; but, under pretence of searching for concealed officers,
his apartments were overrun, his furniture broken, and his property carried
off at pleasure. The houses of Messrs. Lagorce, most respectable merchants
and manufacturers M. Matthieu, M. Negre, and others, shared the same
fate: many only avoided by the owners paying large sums as commutation
money, or escaping into the country with their cash.
"The king rejoices to learn from your letters, that there are so many
conversions in your department; and he desires that you would continue
your efforts, and employ the same means that have been hitherto so
successful. His majesty has ordered me to send a regiment of cavalry, the
greatest part of which he wishes to be quartered upon the protestants, but he
does not think it prudent that they should be all lodged with them; that is to
say, of twenty-six masters, of which a company is composed, if, by a
judicious distribution, ten ought to be received by the protestants, give them
twenty, and put them all on the rich, making this pretence, that when there
are not soldiers enough in a town for all to have some, the poor ought to be
exempt, and the rich burdened. His majesty has also thought proper to
order, that all converts be exempted from lodging soldiers for two years.
This will occasion numerous conversions if you take care that it is
rigorously executed, and that in all the distributions and passage of troops,
by far the greatest number are quartered on the rich protestants. His majesty
particularly enjoins that your orders on this subject, either by yourself or
your sub-delegates, be given by word of mouth to the mayors and sheriffs,
CHAPTER XVII. 502
without letting them know that his majesty intends by these means to force
to become converts, and only explaining to them, that you give these orders
on the information you have received, that in these places the rich are
excepted by their influence, to the prejudice of the poor."
Till the period announced for the sequestration of the property of the
fugitives by authority, murder and plunder were the daily employment of
what was called the army of Beaucaire, and the catholics of Nismes. M.
Peyron, of Brossan, had all his property carried off; his wine, oil, seed,
grain, several score of sheep, eight mules, three carts, his furniture and
effects, all the cash that could be found and he had only to congratulate
himself that his habitation was not consumed, and his vineyards rooted up.
A similar process against several other protestant farmers, was also
regularly carried on during several days. Many of the protestants thus
persecuted were well known as staunch royalists; but it was enough for
their enemies to know that they belonged to the reformed communion;
these fanatics were determined not to find either royalists or citizens worthy
the common protection of society. To accuse, condemn, and destroy a
protestant, was a matter that required no hesitation. The house of M. Vitte,
near the barracks at Nismes, was broken open, and every thing within the
walls demolished. A Jew family of lodgers was driven out, and all their
goods thrown out of the windows. M. Vitte was seized, robbed of his watch
and money, severely wounded, and left for dead. After he had been
CHAPTER XVII. 503
At length the decree of Louis XVIII., which annulled all the extraordinary
powers conferred either by the king, the princes, or subordinate agents, was
received at Nismes, and the laws were now to be administered by the
regular organs, and a new prefect arrived to carry them into effect; but in
spite of proclamations, the work of destruction, stopped for a moment, was
not abandoned, but soon renewed with fresh vigour and effect. On the 30th
of July, Jacques Combe, the father of a family, was killed by some of the
national guards of Rusau, and the crime was so public, that the commander
of the party restored to the family the pocket-book and papers of the
deceased. On the following day tumultuous crowds roamed about the city
and suburbs, threatening the wretched peasants; and on the 1st of August
they butchered them without opposition. About noon on the same day, six
armed men, headed by Truphemy, the butcher, surrounded the house of
Monot, a carpenter; two of the party, who were smiths, had been at work in
the house the day before, and had seen a protestant who had taken refuge
there, M. Bourillon, who had been a lieutenant in the army, and had retired
on a pension. He was a man of an excellent character, peaceable and
harmless, and had never served the emperor Napoleon. Truphemy not
knowing him, he was pointed out partaking of a frugal breakfast with the
family. Truphemy ordered him to go along with him, adding, "Your friend,
CHAPTER XVII. 504
If murder some time after, became less frequent for a few days, pillage and
forced contributions were actively enforced. M. Salle d'Hombro, at several
visits was robbed of 7000 francs; and on one occasion, when he pleaded the
sacrifices he had made, "Look," said a bandit, pointing to his pipe, "this
will set fire to your house; and this," brandishing his sword, "will finish
you." No reply 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.
Those protestants who remained, were deprived of all their civil and
religious rights, and even the advocates and huissiers entered into a
resolution to exclude all of "the pretended reformed religion" from their
bodies. Those who were employed in selling tobacco were deprived of their
licenses. The protestant deacons who had the charge of the poor were all
scattered. Of five pastors only two remained; one of these was obliged to
change his residence, and could only venture to administer the consolations
of religion, or perform the functions of his ministry, under cover of the
night.
"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
CHAPTER XVII. 506
"Your majesty has been deceived if there has not been placed before you
the picture of the horrors which make a desert of your good city of Nismes.
Arrests and proscriptions are continually taking place, and difference of
religious opinions is the real and only cause. The calumniated protestants
are the defenders of the throne. Your nephew has beheld our children under
his banners; our fortunes have been placed in his hands. Attacked without
reason, the protestants have not, even by a just resistance, afforded their
enemies the fatal pretext for calumny. Save us, sire! extinguish the brand of
civil war; a single act of your will would restore to political existence a city
interesting for its population and its manufactures. Demand an account of
their conduct from the chiefs who have brought our misfortunes upon us.
We place before your eyes all the documents that have reached us. Fear
paralizes the hearts, and stifles the complaints of our fellow-citizens. Placed
in a more secure situation, we venture to raise our voice in their behalf,"
&c. &c.
At Nismes it is well known that the women wash their clothes either at the
fountains, or on the banks of streams. There is a large basin near the
fountain, where numbers of women may be seen every day, kneeling at the
edge of the water, and beating the clothes with heavy pieces of wood in the
shape of battledoors. This spot became the scene of the most shameful and
indecent practices. The catholic rabble turned the women's petticoats over
their heads, and so fastened them as to continue their exposure, and their
CHAPTER XVII. 507
About this time, a treaty between the French court and the allied
sovereigns, prohibited the advance of the foreign troops beyond the line of
CHAPTER XVII. 508
territory already occupied, and traced by the course of the Loire, and by the
Rhone, below the Ardeche. In violation of this treaty, 4000 Austrians
entered Nismes on the 24th of August; under pretence of making room for
them, French troops, bearing the feudal title of Royal Chasseurs, followed
by the murdering bands of the Trestaillons and Quatretaillons, who
continued their march to Alais, where a fair was to be held, and carried
disorder and alarm into all the communes on that route. Nothing now was
heard but denunciations of fusillading, burning, razing, and annihilating;
and while the catholics were feasting and murdering at Nismes, the flames
of the country houses of the protestants, rising one hundred feet in the air,
rendered the spectacle still more awful and alarming. Unfortunately, some
of the peasants, falsely charged with the murder of two protestants, were
brought to Nismes while the prefect was celebrating the fete of St. Louis.
At a splendid dinner given to the Austrian commanders, and even without
quitting the table, it appears, that the French prefect placed the fate and
fortune of these unfortunate prisoners at the disposal of Count Stahremberg,
who, of course, believing the representations made to him ordered the
accused to be immediately shot. To mortify and exhaust the protestant
communes, the Austrians were directed to occupy them, where they
completely disarmed the inhabitants without the least opposition. In fact,
these foreigners were soon undeceived. They expected to meet the most
perfidious and brutal enemies in arms, and in open rebellion against their
king; but, on the contrary, they found them all in peace, and experienced
the most kind and respectful treatment; and though their duty was a most
vexatious and oppressive one, they performed it in general with
moderation. On this account they could not refrain from expressing their
astonishment at the reports made to them by the authorities at Nismes,
declaring, "They had found a population suffering great misfortunes, but no
rebels; and that compassion was the only feeling that prevailed in their
minds." The commander himself was so convinced of the good disposition
of the people of the Cevennes, that he visited those districts without an
escort, desiring, he said, to travel in that country as he would in his own.
Such confidence was a public reproach on the authorities at Nismes, and a
sentence of condemnation on all their proceedings.
CHAPTER XVII. 509
Still disorders kept pace with the proclamations that made a show of
suppressing them, and the force of the catholic faction also continued to
increase. The catholic populace, notwithstanding the decrees of the
magistrates, were allowed to retain the arms they had illegally seized,
whilst the protestants in the departments were disarmed. The members of
the reformed churches wished at this period to present another memorial to
the government, descriptive of the evils they still suffered, but this was not
practicable. On the 26th of September, the president of the consistory wrote
as follows: "I have only been able to assemble two or three members of the
consistory pastors or elders. It is impossible to draw up a memoir, or to
collect facts; so great is the terror, that every one is afraid to speak of his
own sufferings, or to mention those he has been compelled to witness."
We now quit Nismes to take a view of the conduct of the persecutors in the
surrounding country. After the re-establishment of the royal government,
CHAPTER XVII. 510
the local authorities were distinguished for their zeal and forwardness in
supporting their employers, and, under pretence of rebellion, concealment
of arms, non-payment of contributions, &c. troops, national guards, and
armed mobs, were permitted to plunder, arrest, and murder peaceable
citizens, not merely with impunity, but with encouragement and
approbation. At the village of Milhaud, near Nismes, the inhabitants were
frequently forced to pay large sums to avoid being pillaged. This, however,
would not avail at Madame Teulon's: On Sunday, the 16th of July, her
house and grounds were ravaged; the valuable furniture removed or
destroyed, the hay and wood burnt, and the corpse of a child, buried in the
garden, taken up and dragged round a fire made by the populace. It was
with great difficulty that M. Teulon escaped with his life. M. Picherol,
another protestant, had deposited some of his effects with a catholic
neighbour; this house was attacked, and though all the property of the latter
was respected, that of his friend was seized and destroyed. At the same
village, one of a party doubting whether M. Hermet, a tailor, was the man
they wanted, asked, "Is he a protestant?" this he acknowledged. "Good,"
said they, and he was instantly murdered. In the Canton of Vauvert, where
there was a consistory church, 80,000 francs were extorted. In the
communes of Beauvoisin and Generac similar excesses were committed by
a handful of licentious men, under the eye of the catholic mayor and to the
cries of "Vive le Roi." St. Gilles was the scene of the must unblushing
villainy. The protestants, the most wealthy of the inhabitants, were
disarmed, whilst their houses were pillaged. The mayor was appealed
to:--the mayor laughed and walked away. This officer had, at his disposal, a
national guard of several hundred men, organised by his own orders. It
would be wearisome to read the lists of the crimes that occurred during
many months. At Clavisson the mayor prohibited the protestants the
practice of singing the psalms commonly used in the temple, that, as he
said, the catholics might not be offended or disturbed.
At Sommieres, about ten miles from Nismes, the catholics made a splendid
procession through the town, which continued till evening and was
succeeded by the plunder of the protestants. On the arrival of foreign troops
at Sommieres, the pretended search for arms was resumed; those who did
not possess muskets were even compelled to buy them on purpose to
CHAPTER XVII. 511
surrender them up, and soldiers were quartered on them at six francs per
day till they produced the articles in demand. The protestant church which
had been closed, was converted into barracks for the Austrians. After divine
service had been suspended for six months at Nismes, the church, by the
protestants called the Temple, was re-opened, and public worship
performed on the morning of the 24th of December. On examining the
belfry, it was discovered that some persons had carried off the clapper of
the bell. As the hour of service approached, a number of men, women, and
children, collected at the house of M. Ribot, the pastor, and threatened to
prevent the worship. At the appointed time, when he proceeded towards the
church, he was surrounded; the most savage shouts were raised against
him; some of the women seized him by the collar; but nothing could disturb
his firmness, or excite his impatience: he entered the house of prayer, and
ascended the pulpit; stones were thrown in and fell among the worshippers;
still the congregation remained calm and attentive, and the service was
concluded amidst noise, threats, and outrage. On retiring many would have
been killed but for the chasseurs of the garrison, who honourably and
zealously protected them. From the captain of these chasseurs, M. Ribot
soon after received the following letter.
"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 to the contrary:
should any tumult occur similar to that of Saturday last inform me. I
preserve my reports of these acts, and if the agitators prove incorrigible,
and forget what they owe to the best of kings and the charter, I will do my
duty and inform the government of their proceedings. Adieu, my dear sir;
assure the consistory of my esteem, and of the sense I entertain of the
moderation with which they have met the provocations of the evil-disposed
at Sommieres. I have the honor to salute you with respect.
SUVAL DE LAINE."
CHAPTER XVII. 512
Another letter to this worthy pastor from the Marquis de Montlord, was
received on the 6th of January, to encourage him to unite with all good men
who believe in God to obtain the punishment of the assassins, brigands, and
disturbers of public tranquility, and to read the instructions he had received
from government to this effect publicly. Notwithstanding this, on the 20th
of January, 1816, when the service in commemoration of the death of Louis
XVI. was celebrated, a procession being formed, the National Guards fired
at the white flag suspended from the windows of the protestants, and
concluded the day by plundering their houses. In the Commune of
Angargues, matters were still worse; and in that of Fontanes, from the entry
of the king in 1815, the catholics broke all terms with the protestants; by
day they insulted them, and in the night broke open their doors, or marked
them with chalk to be plundered or burnt. St. Mamert was repeatedly
visited by these robberies; and at Montmiral, as lately as the 16th of June,
1816, the protestants were attacked, beaten, and imprisoned, for daring to
celebrate the return of a king who had sworn to preserve religious liberty
and to maintain the charter. In fact, to continue the relation of the scenes
that took place in the different 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 sanguinary of all seems that
which was perpetrated at Uzes, at the latter end of August, and the burning
of several protestants 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 Birmingham about 1793; as it is evident that where
governments possess absolute power, such events could not have been
prolonged for many months and even for years over a vast extent of
country, had it not been for the systematic and powerful support of the
higher department of the state.
The excesses perpetrated in the country it seems did not by any means
divert the attention of the persecutors from Nismes. October, 1815,
commenced without any improvement in the principles or measures of the
CHAPTER XVII. 513
Satellite. "If all the protestants, without one exception, are to be killed, I
will cheerfully join; but as you have so often deceived me, unless they are
all to go I will not stir."
Trestaillon. "Come along, then, for this time not a single man shall escape."
This horrid purpose would have been executed had it not been for General
La Garde, the commandant of the department. It was not till ten o'clock at
night that he perceived the danger; he now felt that not a moment could be
lost. Crowds were advancing through the suburbs, and the streets were
filling with ruffians, uttering the most horrid imprecations. The generale
sounded at eleven o'clock, and added to the confusion that was now
spreading through the city. A few troops rallied round the Count La Garde,
who was wrung with distress at the sight of the evil which had arrived at
such a pitch. Of this M. Durand, a catholic advocate, gave the following
account:
"It was near midnight, my wife had just fallen asleep; I was 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 alarm, I
said it probably announced the arrival or departure of some troops of the
garrison. But firing and shouts were immediately audible; and on opening
my window I distinguished horrible imprecations mingled with cries of vive
le Roi! I roused an officer who lodged in the house, and M. Chancel,
Director of the Public Works. We went out together, and gained the
CHAPTER XVII. 514
Boulevarde. The moon shone bright, and almost every object was nearly as
distinct as day; a furious crowd was pressing on vowing extermination, and
the greater part half naked, armed with knives, muskets, sticks, and sabres.
In answer to my inquiries I was told the massacre was general, that many
had been already killed in the suburbs. M. Chancel retired to put on his
uniform as captain of the Pompiers; the officers retired to the barracks, and
anxious for my wife I returned home. By the noise I was convinced that
persons followed. I crept along in the shadow of the wall, opened my door,
entered, and closed it, leaving a small aperture through which I could watch
the movements of the party whose arms shone in the moonlight. In a few
moments some armed men appeared conducting a prisoner to the very spot
where I was concealed. They stopped, I shut my door gently, and mounted
on an alder tree planted against the garden wall. What a scene! a man on his
knees imploring mercy from wretches who mocked his agony, and loaded
him with abuse. In the name of my wife and children, he said, spare me!
What have I done? Why would you murder me for nothing? I was on the
point of crying out and menacing the murderers with vengeance. I had not
long to deliberate, the discharge of several fusils terminated my suspense;
the unhappy supplicant, struck in the loins and the head, fell to rise no
more. The backs of the assassins were towards the tree; they retired
immediately, reloading their pieces. I descended and approached the dying
man, uttering some deep and dismal groans. Some National Guards arrived
at the moment, I again retired and shut the door. "I see," said one, "a dead
man." "He sings still," said another. "It will be better," said a third, "to
finish him and put him out of his misery." Five or six muskets were fired
instantly, and the groans ceased. On the following day crowds came to
inspect and insult the deceased. A day after a massacre was always
observed as a sort of fete, and every occupation was left to go and gaze
upon the victims. This was Louis Lichare, the father of four children; and
four years after the event, M. Durand verified this account by his oath upon
the trial of one of the murderers."
Some time before the death of general La Garde, the duke d'Angouleme
had visited Nismes, and other cities in the south, and at the former place
CHAPTER XVII. 515
Three quarters of an hour rolled heavily away. "I placed myself," says
Madame Juillerat, "at the bottom of the pulpit, with my daughter in my
arms; my husband at length joined and sustained me; I remembered that it
CHAPTER XVII. 516
At length a check was put to these excesses by the report of the murder of
Count La Garde, who, receiving an account of this tumult, mounted his
horse, and entered one of the streets, to disperse a crowd. A villain seized
his bridle; another presented the muzzle of a pistol close to his body, and
CHAPTER XVII. 517
great dismay, a letter appeared, sent some time before to England by the
duke of Wellington, stating "that much information existed on the events of
the south."
Foreign interference was now found eminently useful; and the declarations
of tolerance which it elicited from the French government, as well as the
more cautious march of the catholic persecutors, operated as decisive and
involuntary acknowledgments of the importance of that interference, which
some persons at first censured and despised but though the stern voice of
public opinion in England and elsewhere produced a reluctant suspension
of massacre and pillage, the murderers and plunderers were still left
unpunished, and even caressed and rewarded for their crimes; and whilst
protestants in France suffered the most cruel and degrading pains and
penalties for alleged trifling crimes, catholics, covered with blood, and
guilty of numerous and horrid murders, were acquitted.
by the faction were upon trial, every deposition tending to their crimination
was applauded with the cries of 'Vive le Roi.' Three times the explosion of
this atrocious joy became so terrible, that it was necessary to send for
reinforcements from the barracks, and two hundred soldiers were often
unable to restrain the people. On a sudden the shouts and cries of 'Vive le
Roi' redoubled: a man arrives, caressed, applauded, borne in triumph--it is
the horrible Truphemy; he approaches the tribunal--he comes to depose
against the prisoners--he is admitted as a witness--he raises his hand to take
the oath! Seized with horror at the sight, I rush from my seat, and enter the
hall of council; my colleagues follow me; in vain they persuade me to
resume my seat; 'No!' exclaimed I, 'I will not consent to see that wretch
admitted to give evidence in a court of justice in the city which he has filled
with murders; in the palace, on the steps of which he has murdered the
unfortunate Bourillon. I cannot admit that he should kill his victims by his
testimonies no more than by his poignards. He an accuser! he a witness!
No, never will I consent to see this monster rise, in the presence of
magistrates, to take a sacrilegious oath, his hand still reeking with blood.'
These words were repeated out of doors; the witness trembled; the factious
also trembled; the factious who guided the tongue of Truphemy as they had
directed his arm, who dictated calumny after they had taught him murder.
These words penetrated the dungeons of the condemned, and inspired hope;
they gave another courageous advocate the resolution to espouse the cause
of the persecuted; he carried the prayers of innocence and misery to the foot
of the throne; there he asked if the evidence of a Truphemy was not
sufficient to annul a sentence. The king granted a full and free pardon."
before them, and was condemned to death for contempt of court. But when
he left Nismes, he thought either of passing into a foreign country, or of
joining the army of the Loire; and it was long supposed that he had actually
escaped. As it was impossible to gain any point, or find any security, his
only hope was in concealment, and a friend found him an asylum in the
cottage of a peasant; but that peasant was a protestant, and the general was
a catholic: however, he did not hesitate; he confided in this poor man's
honour. This cottage was in the canton of Anduze; the name of its keeper,
Perrier; he welcomed the fugitive, and did not even ask his name: it was a
time of proscription, and his host would know nothing of him, it was
enough that he was unfortunate, and in danger. He was disguised and he
passed for Perrier's cousin. The general is naturally amiable, and he made
himself agreeable, sat by the fire, ate potatoes, and contented himself with
miserable fare. Though subject to frequent and many painful alarms, he
preserved his retreat several months, and often heard the visiters of his host
boast of the concealment of general Gilly, or of being acquainted with the
place of his retreat. Patrols were continually searching for arms in the
houses of protestants; and often in the night the general was obliged to
leave his mattress, half naked, and hide himself in the fields. Perrier, to
avoid these inconveniences, made an under-ground passage, by which his
guest could pass to an outhouse. The wife of Perrier could not endure that
one who had seen better days should live as her family did, on vegetables
and bread, and occasionally bought meat to regale the melancholy stranger.
These unusual purchases excited attention; it was suspected that Perrier had
some one concealed; nightly visits were more frequent. In this state of
anxiety he often complained of the hardness of his lot. Perrier one day
returned from market in a serious mood; and after some inquiries from his
guest, he replied, "Why do you complain? you are fortunate compared with
the poor wretches whose heads were cried in the market to-day. Bruguier,
the pastor, at 2400 francs; Bresse, the mayor, at the same, and general Gilly
at 10,000!"--"Is it possible?" "Aye, it is certain." Gilly concealed his
emotion, a momentary suspicion passed his mind; he appeared to reflect.
"Perrier," said he, "I am weary of life; you are poor and want money: I
know Gilly and the place of his concealment; let us denounce him; I shall,
no doubt, obtain my liberty, and you shall have the 10,000 francs." The old
man stood speechless, and as if petrified. His son, a gigantic peasant, 27
CHAPTER XVII. 521
years of age, who had served in the army, rose from his chair, in which he
had listened to the conversation, and in a tone not to be described, said,
"Sir, hitherto we thought you unfortunate, but honest; we have respected
your sorrow, and kept your secret; but since you are one of those wretched
beings who would inform of a fellow creature, and insure his death to save
yourself, there is the door; and if you do not retire, I will throw you out of
the window." Gilly hesitated; the peasant insisted; the general wished to
explain, but he was seized by the collar. "Suppose I should be general
Gilly," said the fugitive. The soldier paused. "And it is even so," continued
he, "denounce me, and the 10,000 francs are yours." The soldier threw
himself on his neck; the family were dissolved in tears; they kissed his
hands, his clothes, protested they would never let him leave them, and that
they would die rather than he should be arrested. In their kindness he was
more secure than ever; but their cottage was more suspected, and he was
ultimately obliged to seek another asylum. The family refused any
indemnity for the expense he had occasioned them, and it was not till long
after that he could prevail upon them to accept an acknowledgement of
their hospitality and fidelity. In 1820, when the course of justice was more
free, general Gilly demanded a trial; there was nothing against him; and the
duke d'Angouleme conveyed to Madame Gilly the permission of the king
for the return of her husband to the bosom of his country.
But, even when the French government was resolved to bring the factions
of the department of the Gard, under the laws, the same men continued to
exercise the public functions. The society, called Royale, and its secret
committee, maintained a power superior to the laws. It was impossible to
procure the condemnation of an assassin though the evidence against him
was incontestible, and for whom, in other times, there would have been no
hope. The Truphemys, and others of his stamp, appeared in public, wearing
immense mustachios, and white cockades embroidered with green. Like the
brigands of Calabria, they had two pistols and a poignard at their waists.
Their appearance diffused an air of melancholy mixed with indignation.
Even amidst the bustle of the day there was the silence of fear, and the
night was disturbed by atrocious songs, or vociferations like the sudden cry
of ferocious wild beasts.
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But though the protestants were modest in their demands, only asking
present safety, and security for the future, they did not obtain above half of
their requests. The dissolution of the National Guard at Nismes was owing
to the prudence and firmness of M. Laine. The re-organization of the Cour
Royale was effected by M. Pasquier, then Keeper of the Seals; and these
measures certainly ensured them a present safety but no more. M. Madier
de Montgau, the generous champion of the protestants at Nismes, was
officially summoned before the Court of Cassation at Paris, over which M.
de Serre, Keeper of the Seals, presided, to answer for an alleged
impropriety of conduct as a magistrate, in making those public appeals to
the Chamber which saved the protestants, and increased the difficulties of
renewing those persecutions of which he complained. The French attorney
general demanded the erasure of his name from the list of magistrates, but
this the court refused. Unfortunately since the law of elections in France
CHAPTER XVII. 523
has been changed, two of the bitterest enemies of the protestants had been
chosen Deputies at Nismes. The future, therefore, is not without its dangers,
and the condition of the persecuted may fluctuate with the slightest political
alteration; but which, it is to be hoped, may be prevented from any acts that
may again disgrace the catholic religion, by the powerful expression of the
public mind, actuated with better principles, or by the interference of the
protestant influence in this or other countries. Happily, since the year 1820,
no fresh complaints have issued from the south of France on the score of
religion.
CHAPTER XVIII. 524
CHAPTER XVIII.
ASAAD SHIDIAK.
The following account of the remarkable convert from the Maronite Roman
Catholic church, whose name has, of late, appeared frequently on the pages
of the Missionary Herald, is compiled chiefly from the journal of Mr. Bird,
American Missionary in Syria. The other matter which is inserted, is
derived from authentic sources, and is designed to connect, or to illustrate
the extracts from the journal, or to render the biography more complete and
satisfactory.
Asaad Shidiak was born in the district north of Beyroot, called Kesruan,
where, and at Hadet, a small village five miles south-east of Beyroot, his
family have ever since lived. This family now consists of the widowed
CHAPTER XVIII. 525
mother, five sons, (of whom Asaad is the third) and two or three daughters.
At about the age of 16, he entered the college of Ain Warka, and spent a
year and a half in studying grammar, (Arabic and Syriac,) logic and
theology. After this he passed two years teaching theology to the monks of
a convent near Hadet.
He has also been some considerable time scribe to the bishop of Beyroot,
and to the patriarch, the latter of whom was a teacher in the college when
Asaad was a student. During the late rebellion, headed by the shekh Besir, a
mere complimentary letter of Asaad's to one of the disaffected party, being
intercepted, and shown to the emir Beshir, his suspicion was excited, and
he wrote immediately to the patriarch, in whose employ he then was, to
dismiss him from his service. The letter of Asaad was produced, and
though it was seen to contain nothing exceptionable, the patriarch thought
proper to dismiss him without ceremony.
are called, because the patriarch "had received fresh instructions from
Rome to persecute these men by every means in his power, so long as one
of them should remain in the country."
When Mr. King was about to leave Syria, he wrote the farewell letter to his
friends in that country. The letter was designed, by the writer, to show the
reasons which prevented his becoming a member of the Roman catholic
church. This letter Asaad attempted to answer but his answer, so far from
being satisfactory to himself, was the occasion of raising strong doubts in
his mind, as to the general correctness of the Romish faith.
Under the influence of these doubts, which seem to have distressed him
greatly, he entered the service of Mr. Bird as his instructer in Arabic. His
doubts continued to increase; for he now began in earnest the study of the
Bible and of his own heart, and made constant progress in the knowledge of
both. At length he became a protestant in faith, and, as there is reason to
believe, a truly pious man. Immediately he commenced reformer; and
though young, his matured judgment, his vigorous intellect, his intrepidity,
and his acquisitions, great for his age and his nation, soon drew towards
him the general attention.
15. After mature deliberation it was thought advisable, for the present, that
he should go home to his friends in Hadet, until the fever of alarm and
opposition should subside a little.
Dec. 12. Shidiak returned, after nearly a month's absence, to continue with
me for a year, risking whatever obloquy and violence might come upon
him. He has just been obliged to give up an advantageous contract of
marriage, into which he had some months ago entered, because, since
suspicions were afloat that he is heretical in his notions, the father of the
girl required him to bring a letter from the patriarch, specifying what office
he would give him. He now gives up all intentions of marriage. For his
greater security, I am to procure for him the usual written protection of the
English consul, which shall insure to him, while in my immediate employ,
all the safety and liberty of an English resident.
13. Spent most of the day in conversation with Asaad on the subject of
religion. He had lately been much in company with the emir Sulman, and
observed, that his prejudices against christianity were evidently much
softened.
We have a copy of the Arabic bible, printed at Rome, at the end of which is
an appendix which he has discovered to contain a copious list of popish
doctrines, with their appropriate references to scripture proofs. These
proofs he has found so weak, that he expresses his astonishment how such
doctrines could be inferred from them; and nothing has occurred of late,
which has more strengthened his conviction that the church of Rome is
radically wrong. What seems to have affected him most sensibly, is, the
expression he has found, "We are under obligation to kill
heretics."--Proof,--'False prophets God commanded to be slain. Jehu and
Elijah killed the worshippers and prophets of Baal.' This passage he shows
to all who visit him, priests and people, and calls upon them to judge
whether such sweeping destruction is according to the spirit of the gospel.
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In this country, where the pope cannot do all he could wish, the right of
murdering every one who differs from him, has not been so publicly
asserted of late, and some, when they hear it, are a little startled. But most
of the good children of "the church" are soon quieted again, by the
recollection, that their kind and compassionate "mother" means well, even
in murder. The common mode of reasoning, is, in this case, inverted. It is
not said, "the action is right, therefore the church does it;" but, "the church
does it, therefore it is right."
"This," said he, "is the last time I intend ever to say a word to you on the
subject of religion. I wish, therefore, before you go any further, that you
would pause and think whether you can meet all the reproach of the world,
and all the opposition of the patriarch and priests."
Asaad replied, that he had made up his mind to meet all these things. "And
now," said he, "if, as you say, you intend never to hold any more
conversation with me on the subject of religion, I have one request to make
of you, and that is, that you will go, and make the subject of religion a
matter of serious prayer and inquiry, and see where the path of life is; I then
leave you with your conscience and with God."
CHAPTER XVIII. 529
After relating the substance of this conversation to us, Asaad remarked, that
these people reminded him of the late patriarch such an one, who had a
moderate share of understanding, but was ambitious to appear very well.
This patriarch had a bishop who was really an acute and learned man, and
whose opinions were always received with the greatest deference on all
matters relative to religion. The bishop being on a visit one day at the
patriarch's, the latter called him to his presence, and proposed to him the
interpretation of a passage of scripture. The bishop gave the explanation
according to the best of his judgment. "No," said his holiness, "that is not
the meaning of the passage;" and proposed to have a second. When the
bishop had again given his opinions and reasons, the patriarch answered as
before, "That is not the meaning of the passage." In a third and fourth case,
the bishop was equally unfortunate, all his arguments being swept away by
the single sage remark of his holiness, "That is not the meaning of the
passage." At last the bishop, in a fit of discouragement, said, "Your holiness
has put me upon the solution of a number of questions, in all which, it
seems, I have been wrong. I would now thank your holiness to tell me what
is right." The patriarch being startled at the new ground he was on, changed
the conversation. "So," said Asaad, "these people can all tell me I am
mistaken; but when I ask them what is right, they are silent."
Asaad has often remarked, that he is full of anxiety, and finds no rest for
the sole of his foot. In many things he sees the Romish church to be wrong,
and in some things he thinks we are so. Our apparent tranquility of mind, as
to our religious views, is a matter of surprise to him. This evening he
conversed on the subject with more than usual feeling. "I seem," said he,
"to be alone among men. There is nobody like me, and I please nobody. I
am not quite in harmony with the English in my views, and therefore do not
please you. My own countrymen are in so much error, I cannot please them.
God I have no reason to think I please; nor do I please myself. What shall I
do?"
Asaad observed, that whatever might be said, and whatever might be true,
of our object, in coming to this country he saw that the doctrines we taught
were according to truth, and he was more than ever determined to hold to
them.
He wishes also to have another interview with the patriarch, that he may
tell him his whole heart, and see what he will say. The patriarch is not, he
says, of a bad disposition by nature, and perhaps if he could be persuaded
that he was neither acting from revenge nor from love of money, but simply
from a conviction of the truth, he would be softened in his feelings, and
something might be done with him to the benefit of religion. He desired,
among other things, to propose, that an edition of the New Testament
should be printed under the patriarch's inspection at Schooair, the expense
of which, (if he chose) should be borne by the English.[F]
the whole country, for your associating with the English, you would never
be in their company again."
When we were informed of what occurred between this priest and Asaad,
and of Asaad's intention to go and see the patriarch, we all expressed our
fears that he would be ill-treated, but he did not anticipate it. He said, he
had known an instance of a vile infidel and blasphemer, who was simply
excommunicated, and that it was not the custom of the Maronites to kill, as
we suggested, on account of religion. We assured him that he had not yet
learned how much men hate the truth, and that his church would not feel
herself half as much in danger from an open blasphemer, as from an active
lover of the gospel. But he was so confident that good would result from
such a visit, that we ceased from urging our objections, and commended
him to the will of God.
It was during this visit, that most of the conversations happened which are
so admirably narrated in the public statement made by himself, which will
be found in the sequel. He manifested throughout, as the reader will
discover, the spirit of the early christian confessors. He denied the
infallibility of popes and councils; asserted and defended the great
doctrines of the gospel, and besought, that the scriptures might be
circulated, and read, and be made the only standard of faith, and rule of
practice, and that evangelists might be sent through the land.
Against such a formidable innovator, the patriarch and his bishops rose up
in wrath, and Asaad was threatened with imprisonment and death.
"I am now at Der Alma, (convent of Alma,) and thanks to God, I arrived in
good health. But as yet I have not seen the patriarch. I pray God the Father,
and his only Son Jesus Christ our Lord, that he would establish me in his
love, that I may never exchange it for any created thing--that neither death,
nor life, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor
riches, nor honour, nor dignity, nor office, nor any thing in creation, shall
separate me from this love. I hope you will pray to God for me; which
CHAPTER XVIII. 532
request I also make to all the brethren and sisters, (all the saints,) after
giving them, especially Mr. Goodell, abundant salutations."
24. Heard that Asaad had been sent to the Armenian convent Bzumar, to
confess, and that he would probably be sent to Aleppo as a priest. Another
said, he was seen at the college of Ain Warka.
Is forcibly detained.
Feb. 22. Fearing for the safety of Asaad, since hearing that he has not
written to his friends, we this morning sent a messenger with a short note,
to find him, and ascertain his state.
23. The messenger returned, saying, that he yesterday went to the village,
where he understood the patriarch was, and found that he had just gone
with a train of twenty men, and Asaad in company, to Der Alma. In the
morning, he rose, went to that convent, and chanced to find Asaad alone.
After some conversation, in which they were providentially not interrupted,
Asaad handed him a hasty line, and he returned. The line was as follows:
"Much respected brother,--Your note has reached me, and has added
another proof to the many I have had already, of your kind regard to me. I
now beseech you once more, to pray for me, that I may be delivered from
the dark devices of men. I find myself reduced to quite an extremity. One
or more of three things are before me; either to be thought mad, or to
commit sin, or to offer up my life I call upon God for deliverance. I cannot
now write fully, but the bearer will tell you of all."
The messenger said, that the emir of that district had threatened to send him
to Bteddeen, to be imprisoned. Asaad replied, that he was ready to go to
prison and to death. He was engaged in daily disputations with the patriarch
and others. His countenance wore a shade of melancholy, and his eyes were
red with weeping.
him his life: it would be better to wait a while, and leave it for Providence
to open a way for his escape.
This assurance of his steadfastness was like a cordial to our spirits, and was
not without a good influence on some that are about us. By the grace of
God, he will witness a good confession before the dignitaries both of
church and state, and by the same grace, he may open the eyes of some of
them to the truth as it is in Jesus. To him that was with Daniel and with the
three children in their dangers, we commend him.
24. Called on the consul to inquire what could be done for the protection or
relief of Asaad. He recommended a course of moderation and forbearance,
and said it was not customary to extend English protection to natives, when
abroad on their own business.
26. Two young emirs from Hadet called. I asked one of them "Where is
Asaad Shidiak at present?"
"Not very well contented. But what should he do, poor fellow, necessity is
laid upon him."
This remark proves to us, that it is not a secret among the priests and emirs,
that Asaad is detained against his will.
March 1. A youth called this morning, and said Asaad Shidiak sent me
salutation. He showed me a line he had received from Asaad the day
before, saying, "If you will pass this way about midnight, I will go with you
to Beyroot." Owing to some circumstance, the young man did not go to the
convent, and now he proposed to take a horse, by which Asaad may escape
to-night.
CHAPTER XVIII. 534
As we had not perfect confidence in the youth, we did nothing, but having
ascertained his plan, left him to go on as he chose. In the evening, we had a
season of prayer, particularly on his account.
2. Rose early, and repaired to the room, where Asaad would have been, had
he come; but there were no tidings from him. Little expectation remained of
his coming to-day, and we were not without our fears that the attempt had
miscarried. It was not long, however, before it was announced, that Asaad
was at the door.
The meeting was one of great joy and thanksgiving to us all.--After a little
rest and refreshment, he gave us a brief account of his escape.
He had not seen the youth, who had undertaken to befriend him, but finding
he did not call the night before, as he expected, he resolved not to wait
another day. Therefore, at about twelve o'clock last night, having written a
paper and left it on his bed, with the quotation, "Come out of her my
people," &c. he set off on foot, committing himself to God for strength and
protection. The darkness was such, that he often found himself out of his
road, sometimes miring in mud, and sometimes wading in rivers. After
some hours of weariness and anxiety, he came to the shore of the sea,
where he found a large boat thrown up, under which he cast himself, and
obtained a little rest. After this, he continued his walk without interruption,
till he reached Beyroot.
protection. The shekh declared, that he had never sent such a message; that
the man who brought it was but an ass, and said it from his own brain; that
having heard of Asaad's arrival, he merely wished to see whether the
reports respecting his insanity were true or false; that Asaad was his bosom
friend, his own son, and that whatever he had was his; and that as for
church, and priests, and patriarch, he cared for none of them.
Towards evening, the youth already mentioned entered the house, ready to
faint with excessive fear and fatigue. He had fled from the mountains in all
haste, under the absurd apprehension, that he should be suspected and taken
up as an accomplice with Asaad. Having thrown himself upon a seat, and
taken a little breath, he began to relate what had happened. He was at the
convent, when it was first discovered that Asaad had fled. The patriarch and
his train were occupied in the religious services of the morning, so that no
great sensation was at first apparent among them. One individual spoke
boldly in favour of Asaad, saying, "Why should he not leave you? What
inducement had he to remain here? What had he here to do? What had he to
enjoy? Books he had none; friendly society none; conversation against
religion abundant; insults upon his opinions and his feelings abundant. Why
should he not leave you?"
Others, especially the great ones, pitied the poor maniac, (as they called
him,) and sent in quest of him to every direction, lest peradventure, he
might be found starving in some cavern, or floating in the sea, or dashed in
pieces at the bottom of a precipice.
On learning of Asaad all that had passed during his absence, we requested
him to write a statement of the facts somewhat in the form of a journal. We
wished this not only for our own information, but to produce it to those
who shall inquire on the subject of Asaad's lunacy hereafter.
men, and other worldly motives, I chanced to read the 29th chapter of
Isaiah, from the 15th verse to the end. I read, and was afraid. I meditated
upon the chapter a long while, and feared that I was doing what I did, with
a motive far different from the only proper one, viz. the glory and the
pleasure of God. I therefore threw by my paper without finishing the copy,
and applied myself diligently to the reading of the prophecy of Isaiah. I had
wished to find, in the prophets, plain proofs, by which to establish, beyond
contradiction, that Jesus Christ is the Messiah, so long expected from
ancient days; proofs that might be made use of in answer to Moslems and
Jews. While I was thus searching, I found various passages, that would
bear an explanation according to my views, but did not find them sufficient
to enforce conviction on others, until I finally came to the 52d chapter 14th
verse, and onward to the end of the next chapter.
On finding this testimony, my heart rejoiced, and was exceeding glad, for it
removed many dark doubts from my own mind also. From that time, my
desire to read the New Testament, that I might discover the best means of
acting according to the doctrines of Jesus, was greatly increased. I
endeavoured to divest myself of all selfish bias, and loved more and more
to inquire into religious subjects. I saw, and continue to see, many of the
doctrines of the Roman Catholic church, which I could not believe, and
which I found opposed to the truths of the Gospel; and I wished much to
find some of her best teachers to explain them to me, that I might see how
they proved them from the Holy scriptures. As I was reading an appendix
to a copy of the sacred scriptures, printed at Rome by the Propaganda, and
searching out the passages referred to, for proving the duty of worshipping
saints, and other similar doctrines, I found that these proofs failed
altogether of establishing the points in question, and that to infer such
doctrines from such premises, was even worthy of ridicule. Among other
things, in this appendix, I found the very horrible Neronian doctrines, that
it is our duty to destroy heretics. Now every one knows, that whoever does
not believe that the pope is infallible, is a heretic in his opinions.
This doctrine is not merely that it is allowable to kill heretics, but that we
are bound to do it. From this I was the more established in my convictions
against the doctrines of the pope, and saw that they were the doctrines of
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the ravenous beast, and not of the gentle lamb. After I had read this, I asked
one of the priests in Beyroot respecting this doctrine, and he assured me,
that it was even so as I had read. I then wished to go to some place, though
it might be a distant country, that I might find some man of the Roman
Catholic church sufficiently learned to prove the doctrine above alluded to.
After this, as I was at Beyroot teaching a few Greek youths the Arabic
grammar, I received a letter from his holiness the Maronite patriarch,
saying, that if I did not cease from all assistance whatever to the English,
and that if I did not leave them within one day, I should, ipso facto, fall
under the heaviest excommunication.
Thinking, as I did, that obeying my superiors, in all things not sinful, was
well and good, I did not delay to leave, and so went to my friends at Hadet;
but still thinking very much on the subject of religion, so that some people
thought me melancholy. I loved exceedingly to converse on religious
subjects, indeed I took no pleasure in any worldly concerns, and found all
worldly possessions vain. After this, I received a second letter from his
holiness the patriarch, in which he said thus: "After we had written you the
first letter, we wrote you a second; see that you act according to it. And if
you fulfil all that was commanded in it, and come up to us when we come
to Kesran, we will provide you a situation." But I saw that nothing, in
which I was accustomed to take delight, pleased me any longer. I returned
again, after some time, to Beyroot; and after I had been there no long time,
Hoory Nicolas arrived, brother to his holiness the rev. patriarch, with a
request from the latter, to come and see him, which I hastened to do. Hoory
Nicolas then began to converse with me, in the way of reprimand, for being
in connexion with the English. I replied that, as we ought not to deny the
unity of God, because the Musselmans believe it, so we ought not to hate
the gospel because the English love it. He then began to tell me of the wish
of his holiness, the rev. patriarch, that I should come out to him, and of his
great love to me; and said that he (the patriarch) had heard, that I had
received thirty or forty purses of money from the English; and he assured
me of their readiness not to suffer this to be any hindrance to my coming
out from them.
CHAPTER XVIII. 539
Now if my object were money, as some seemed to think, I had then a fair
opportunity to tell him a falsehood, and say, "I indeed received from the
English that sum, but I have expended so and so, and cannot leave them
unless I restore the whole." In this way I might have contrived to take what
I wished. Yet I did not so answer him, but declared to him the truth, how
much wages I had received, and which was nothing extraordinary.
He then gave me a paper from his holiness the patriarch, in which he says,
"You will have received from us an answer, requesting that when we come
to Alma, you will come up and see us. We expect your presence, and, if
God please, we will provide you some proper situation, with an income that
shall be sufficient for your sustenance. Delay not your coming, lest the
present happy opportunity should pass by." Knowing, as I did, that many
people supposed my object, in continuing with the English, to be gain, I did
not delay fulfilling the request of his reverence, hoping to remove this
suspicion, and to enjoy an opportunity of speaking the truth without being
hired to do it.
So, about the 7th of January, I left Beyroot, with Hoory Nicolas, and
arrived at Der Alma the same night. His holiness, the patriarch, was not
there. On the next day, when he came, I met him, and saluted him in the
road. In the evening he called me into his chamber, and began to ask me
questions, that he might discover what I was; and I answered him telling
him the whole truth, although this course was opposed to my personal
convenience. At this he seemed surprised, for he must have perceived it
was contrary to what he had been accustomed to see in me. Afterwards,
when I declared to him, that I never had before been a believer, according
to the true living faith, he was probably still more astonished. He then
asked me if I believed as the Romish church believed. I again told him the
truth, that I did not. He asked then what was my faith, and I answered to the
following purport, "True and living faith must be divine, connected with
hope, love and repentance, and that all these virtues are the gift of God &c.;
that I believed the truth as God had inspired it; and that it would be but a
lie, if I should say that I believed as the Romish church does, while in fact I
do not. I must have proofs."
CHAPTER XVIII. 540
After some conversation like this, he told me that this doctrine of mine was
heretical, and that as long as I remained in this state of opinion, he would
suffer no one to have intercourse with me in buying and selling, &c. This
prohibition of his brought to my mind the words in the Revelation, xiii,
17.[G] Then he gave me to understand, that if, after three days, I did not get
back out of this state, I must no more enter the church. At other times, he
wished me to swear by the eucharist and by the gospel, that my faith was
like the faith of the Roman catholic church. He asked me if I was a Bible
man; I replied, "I do not follow the opinions of the Bible men; but if you
think me a Bible man on account of the opinions I have advanced, very
well."
The sum of what I said was, that without evidence I could not believe what
the Romish church believes. From that time, after three days, I did not enter
the church for a space. Some time passed again, and the patriarch inquired
of me my faith. I then explained to him what I believed respecting the unity
and trinity of God, and that the Messiah was one person with two natures,
and that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and Son. Then arose a
disputation about, who is the Vicar that Christ has appointed to explain his
law. I answered in substance as I afterwards did in writing, that by reason,
and learning, and prayer to God, with purity of motive, we may know, from
the holy scriptures, every thing necessary to our salvation. This was the
purport of my reply, which perhaps was not expressed with sufficient
clearness, or perhaps I was not able to say it in the manner that was
appropriate, for such a tumult and storm were excited in the company that
they seemed to me to be intent on overcoming me by dint of vociferation,
rather than by argument, and to drown my voice, rather than to understand
my opinions.
When, after some days, came bishop Abdalla Blabul and Padre Bernardus
of Gzir, the patriarch one day called me to them in his chamber, and asked
me what I wished, whether money or office, or whatever it might be,
promising to gratify me, speaking of his love to me and of his great interest
in my welfare. These professions I know to be sincere, but they are
according to the world, and not according to the Gospel. I assured him that
I wanted nothing of the things he had mentioned; that I was submissive and
CHAPTER XVIII. 541
obedient to him; and that if he thought of me, that I had taken money of the
English, he was welcome to shut me up in my chamber as to a prison, and
take from me every thing that I possessed; that I wished from them merely
my necessary food and clothing, and that I would give them this assurance
in writing. The bishop and priest then begged me, in presence of the
patriarch, to say that my faith was like that of the Romish church. I replied,
that I feared to tell a falsehood by saying a thing, while actually, in my
reason, I did not believe it.
"But," said they, "the patriarch here will absolve you from the sin of the
falsehood." I turned to the Patriarch and put the question whether he would
so absolve me. He answered, that he would. I said, "What the law of nature
itself condemns, it is out of the power of any man to make lawful." He then
again asked me what I wished to do. I said, I wish to go and see the
Armenian patriarch Gregory, and inquire of him what I ought to do. He
consented, and requested me, when I had done this, to return to him, to
which I agreed. I was accompanied by a priest from the station of the
patriarch to the College of Ain Warka, where I found Hoory Joseph
Shaheen, with whom I conversed a considerable time, and with great
pleasure; for I found that for himself, he did not believe that the pope was
infallible in matters of faith, that is to say, unless in concert with the
congregated church. I then began to confess to him: but when I saw that he
held steadfastly some opinions for no other reason than that the church so
believed, and without bringing any proper evidence of the fact, viz. from
councils or from the fathers, and burst out upon me with exceeding bitter
words, saying, "Know that the church neither deceives, nor is deceived, and
be quiet;" and when I wished him to instruct me according to the word of
God, with the simple object of glorifying God and fulfilling his will, I saw
that he was not disposed to support any opinion because it was according to
the word of God, but because so thought the church; and I saw him also
ready to retain these opinions, although I should bring the strongest
evidences against them from the holy Scriptures. He told me that it was
impossible for him to teach any thing contrary to the council of Trent. So I
found I could not receive his system, because, though you should shew him
that it was wrong, he would not give it up, lest with it he should be obliged
to give up his office. I therefore told him, you are bound, i. e. shut up as
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between walls, by the doctrines of the pope and the council of Trent.
About this time, I heard that a certain individual wished to converse with
me on the subject of religion, which rejoiced me exceedingly, and I was
impatient for an interview. He came on a Sabbath day to Ain Warka, for the
study of the Arabic grammar, according to his custom, and we had a short
conversation together on works unlawful on the Sabbath day, and other
subjects. He then excused himself from further conversation for want of
time; but promised that when we should meet again, he hoped to have a
sufficient opportunity to dwell on these subjects at large. I continued at Ain
Warka the whole week, reading with the rest at prayers and confessing to
Hoory Joseph above mentioned; and on the next Lord's day, the Armenian
priest aforesaid came again, and I fully expected to have time and
opportunity to ascertain his opinions; but I was disappointed again; for he
wished to have the dispute carried on in writing, and to have an assistant
with him, with other conditions.
At this time one informed me that his holiness, bishop Jacob, superior of
the convent of Bzumar, wished to see me. And because Hoory Joseph, at
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first told me that this state in which I had fallen was a temptation of Satan,
and at one time shewed me that it was usual for people, when they came to
the age of manhood, to be tempted on the subject of their religion, and at
another, assured me, that this was a state of delirium:--and again, because I
had heard formerly that this bishop Jacob had himself been delirious, and
that he was a man of information, I wished very much to see him; and on
the same day I went to Hoory Joseph and declared to him plainly my
opinions, and shewed him that the beast mentioned in the Revelation was a
figure, as the lamb evidently was, and how dreadful must be the torments of
those who worship the image of the beast. I then disclosed to him my
intention of going up to the convent of Bzumar, where were the patriarch
Gregory, bishop Jacob, and the Armenian priest already mentioned.
I set off the same day, and on my arrival saluted the patriarch, and on the
same night reasoned on the subjects of faith, hope and love. It appeared that
the patriarch's opinion was, that a man may be possessed of living faith,
faith unto salvation, although he should feel nothing in his heart. I
answered him with a quotation from St. Paul, "With the heart man believeth
unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation."
But this did not convince him. He explained the heart to mean the will. It
then appeared to me that he was not a true believer, and from that time
forward I could not believe him, as I would believe a real Christian, but I
wished to hear his worldly arguments. On the following day, I asked him
how it can he said, that the pope was infallible if there were no proofs of
the fact to be brought. I asked him if this pretension of the pope was that of
an apostle, or a prophet? if an apostle, or a prophet, he could not be
believed without miracles, and that we christians were not to believe any
one, though he were to bring down fire from Heaven.[H] His replies to me
were weak; and after considerable conversation on what is the church of
Christ, on the ignorance that is pardonable, &c. he began to prove that if the
pope is not infallible, then there is no religion, no gospel, and even no God.
But I observed all his proofs so weak, that I could not be convinced, and I
fell into deep perplexity as to what I should do. For sometimes I greatly
endeavoured to submit my judgment to his rules and opinions, and made
these efforts until my very head would ache. The next day I asked him what
was that great city, ruling over the kings of the earth, mentioned in the Rev.
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xvii, 18? After he had brought his book of commentaries, he answered that
it was Rome, which is also called spiritual Babylon, or Babel, and after
wishing me to yield to his opinion or that of the book, he said nothing
more. From this time I was with the patriarch every day for three or four
hours, and his best advice to me was, to pray to St. Antony of Padua,
together with one repetition of the Lord's prayer, and one of Hail Mary, &c.
every day for three days. When I was thus in doubt from the weakness of
their proofs, one of the monks said to me, "If you wish to know good
tobacco, ask the patriarch." I hoped that this priest would explain to me
those doctrines of the Romish church, which I could not believe; so I went
into his chamber and questioned him very particularly on all points. He
expressed his wish that we might discuss together all the points one by one,
but on condition that the patriarch Joseph should appoint him to do so. He
told me he had in his possession a book refuting the opinions of Luther and
Calvin. I begged permission to read it; but he refused, telling me that the
doctrines of the church all remained unrefuted. He wished me to go down
to the patriarch Joseph on this business. So after a stay of four days from
my arrival, I departed for Ain Warka according to my promise to Hoory
Joseph.
Here I found one of my friends of whom I had heard that he had been very
much astonished at my connexion with the Bible men. After I had seen
him, and had conversed with him a little on some points, he would no
longer hear me, fearing among other things lest he should be crazed. When
we touched on the subject of the great city above mentioned, he told me
that he had seen a book of commentaries on the Revelation, which made
the city clearly to be Rome. At this I wondered greatly, since the meaning
was so clear that not even the teachers of the Romish church herself could
deny it. I then finished my confession to Hoory Joseph Shaheen, and about
sunset the same day, went down to the patriarch to the convent Alma. He
requested me again to write a paper stating that my faith was according to
the faith of the Romish church. From this I excused myself, begging that
such a thing might not be required of me, for the council of Trent had
added nothing to the rule of faith, which was established by that of Nice,
which begins, "I believe in one God," &c. A short space after, I gave him
my advice, with modest arguments, and mild suggestions, on his duty to
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cause the gospel to be preached in the church among the Maronite people;
and offered him the opinion that this should be done by the priests in the
vulgar language, every Sabbath day, for the space of one or two hours; and
if this should appear too burthensome to the people, to take off from them
some of the feast days. After this, I remained silent in my chamber near to
his own; and as there came to me a few of the deacons of the patriarch, and
others, I read to them at their request in the New Testament printed in
Rome. But in a little time after, I entered my room, and found in it none of
all the books that had been there, neither New Testament nor any other, and
I knew that the patriarch had given the order for this purpose, for he
reproved me for reading the gospel to them, but he could accuse me of no
false or erroneous explanations, or that I taught them any thing heretical.
One day after this, he called me to his presence and began to threaten me in
a most unusual manner. I said, "What do you wish of me, your reverence?
What have I done, and what would you have me do? What is my sin, except
that I conversed with some individuals, shewing them the errors of the
church of Rome?" Then he requested me again, to say, that I believed as
did that church, and said, grasping me firmly by the chin, "see how I will
take you if you do not repent." I begged him to appoint some one to shew
me the truth, by way of discussion, but he would not, and continued
expressing his own sentiment, that we are bound to hold fast to the church,
even to such a length, that if she should even reject the gospel, we should
reject it too.
And here I wish to say a word to every reader that regards and loves the
truth; how does such doctrine appear to you? and how could I believe in all
which the Romish church holds, without knowing all of it? and how could I
say, without a lie, that I believe, when I do not believe?
When I saw the patriarch breaking out with an exceeding loud and unusual
voice, I was afraid that I should be found among "the fearful," (Rev. xxi. 8.)
and rose to depart. When I reached the door, I turned and said to him, "I
will hold fast the religion of Jesus Christ, and I am ready for the sake of it
to shed my blood; and though you should all become infidels, yet will not
I;" and so left the room.
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One of my friends told me, that he had suggested to the patriarch the grand
reason why I did not believe in the pope, which was, that among other
doctrines of his, he taught, that he could not commit an error, and that now,
though a pope should see any one of his predecessors had erred, he could
not say this, for fear that he also should appear to be an unbeliever. This
friend also told me, that the patriarch wondered how I should pretend that I
held to the Christian religion, and still converse in such abusive terms
against it; and I also wondered, that after he saw this, he should not be
willing so much as to ask me, in mildness, and self-possession, and
forbearance, for what reasons I was unwilling to receive the doctrines of
the pope, or to say I believed as he did; but he would not consent that the
above mentioned Armenian priest should hold a discussion with me, and
more than this, laid every person, and even his own brother, under
excommunication, if he should presume to dispute or converse with me on
the subject of religion.
Another cause I had of wonder, which was, that not one of all with whom I
conversed, after he saw me to be heretical and declining from the truth,
thought proper to advise me to use the only means of becoming strong in
the faith, viz. prayer to God the Most High, and searching his Holy Word,
which a child may understand. I wondered, too, that they should ridicule
me, and report me abroad as one mad and after all this, be so fearful to
engage in a dispute with the madman, lest he should vanquish them in
argument, or spoil their understandings, or turn them away from the truth.
After some time came the bishop of Beyroot. I gave him the usual
salutation, and was greatly rejoiced to see him, as I knew the excellency of
his understanding, and his quickness of apprehension, and hoped that, after
some discussion between us, he would explain the truth, and that he would
rest on clear evidence to support his views. But in this case also, I was
disappointed; for one day, when I asked him a question, and during the
whole short conversation which followed, whenever I began to bring
CHAPTER XVIII. 547
Some time after this, Hoory Joseph Shaheen came down to the convent of
Alma, and I endeavoured to get him to unite with me in persuading the
patriarch to send out among the people preachers of the gospel, or that there
should be preaching in the churches as before mentioned. But he would not
co-operate with me in this, and I was again disappointed.
Then, when the patriarch and the bishop of Beyroot wished to dispute with
me, I expressed the hope that the discussion might be in meekness, and
without anger. It was concluded that the discussion should be in writing,
that no one afterwards should be able to alter what he had once said. They
then commenced by asking me questions; the first question was, in amount,
this, "Has the Messiah given us a new law?" At first, I did not grant that he
had, strictly speaking, given us a new law, and quoted the words of John,
that "the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus
Christ;" but when I afterwards saw that by "a new law," they meant merely
the gospel, or the New Testament, I answered in the affirmative. They then
asked me if there was not to be found in this new law some obscurities. I
answered, "Yes." They then asked me, Suppose any difference of sentiment
should arise between the teachers of Christianity, how are we to distinguish
the truth from the error? I answered thus;--"We have no other means of
arriving at the truth, than searching the word of God, with learning, and
reason, and inquiry of learned spiritual teachers, with purity of motive, and
with disinterestedness of inclination. If the obscurities of the word of God
cannot be understood by these means, our ignorance is excusable, and will
not prevent our salvation. If the passages, which still remain obscure,
concern faith, it is sufficient for a man to say, I believe according as the
truth is in itself before God, or I believe in the thing as God inspired it to
the writer. And if the obscurity respects our practice, after making use of
the means above mentioned, if that branch of our practice be forbidden, or
under a doubt, desist from it, but if it is not forbidden, do it, and Blessed is
he that condemneth not himself in the thing which he alloweth."
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After I had given them this answer, they brought no evidence to prove any
error in it, and moreover afterwards never put to me any question to
writing.
Once, as I was walking with the bishop of Beyroot, he began to tell me how
much they all felt for me; and how unwilling they should be to put me in
chains to die a lingering death; and that were it not for the sympathy and
their love towards me, there were people who had conversed with them,
who were ready to take my life. Some further conversation passed, and I
began to introduce the subject of religion, and to ask how we could believe
in the pope that he was infallible. He quoted for proof the words of our
Saviour, Thou art Peter, &c. I asked him if it was proper to suppose that all
things bestowed on Peter, were also given to the pope? If so, why does not
the pope speak with tongues; and why is he not secure from the evil effects
of poison, &c.? He answered, that these last things were not necessary.
"But how do you prove it necessary," said I, "that the pope should not err?
Is it not sufficient if any one has doubts, to ask his teacher who is not
infallible? if you say yes, then the opinion of the fallible man will answer.
But if you say no, and that we must go to the pope, what must become of
the man who dies before the answer of the pope can reach him?"
He then resorted to another mode of proof, saying, "Is it not desirable that
the pope should be infallible?" I assured him I wished he might be so.
"Well, is not God able to render him so?" "Yes, He is able to do all things."
He wished to infer his point from these two premises. But I said, "your
reasoning with regard to the pope, may be applied to all the bishops of the
church; for it is desirable that they should all be infallible, and God is able
to make them so." He said, "No, for the bishops feeling less their need of
the pope, would not look to him, or submit to him as their head, and then
there would be divisions and contentions in the church." But why, said I,
did not divisions and contentions arise among the apostles? Were they not
all infallible as well as Peter? He would not say they were infallible. I told
him, that was an opinion that could not be believed, that the pope was
infallible, and the apostles not; for it was well known to all, that the Holy
Spirit descended upon the apostles in a peculiar manner. I asked him again,
how it could be made to appear that divisions would be produced if all
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bishops were infallible, for if they were all of one opinion, as they of course
would be, their union must be the more perfect. We conversed farther at
some length, when he concluded by saying, "You are possessed of a devil."
The next day, as the patriarch and the bishop of Beyroot were seated under
a tree without the convent, I went out to them, and said, "Your holiness sent
to me to come hither for employment, and I came, and have remained here
a considerable time. What do you wish me to do for you, for I cannot
remain here in idleness?" He said, "What do you wish to do?" If your
holiness pleases, that I teach in the school of Ain Warka, I will do that.
"No, I cannot have you go to Ain Warka, to corrupt the minds of those who
are studying science, and to contradict my opinions." But I will instruct in
grammar. "No, the youths of the college are now attending to moral
science." Well, I only beg you will let me know what I am to do, and if you
have no employment for me, I wish to return home. The bishop here broke
in upon the conversation, saying, I will not suffer you to go back among my
flock to deceive them, and turn them away to heresy. Will you then debar
me, said I, from my home? If so, let me know where I shall go, what I shall
do? The bishop then said to the patriarch, "Indeed I will not suffer this man
to go abroad among my people, for he is even attempting to make heretics
of us also." Yes replied the patriarch, it will not do after this, to afford him
a residence in any part of the land. The bishop then turned to me, in the
bitterest anger and rage, reviling me and saying, "If you go among my
people again, I will send and take your life, though it be in the bosom of
your own house." I said, "Well, what would you have me to do, and what
will you do with me? If you wish to kill me, or shut me up in prison, or
give me up to the government, or whatever it may be, I wish to know it."
"You must wait here till spring or summer," said the patriarch, "and then
we shall see how you are." I answered him in the words of that christian
who was given by his judge ten days to deliberate whether he would
worship an image: "Consider the time already past, and do what you
please."
I asked the bishop his reasons for wishing to kill me. What evil had I done?
He was filled with high and bitter indignation, saying, "What, miscreant!
Shall we let you go forth to corrupt my flock for me? Is not what has
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passed enough?" I rose and said to them, "God at least is with me," and left
them. The patriarch sent after me his nephew, requesting me, in soothing
words to return, and saying that he would do what I wished.
I returned and told him, that I had a request to make of one thing only, and
that I hoped he would answer me, not as to a little child, who would ask a
childish thing. He asked me what it was. I said I have to ask of you the
favour to send from your priests two faithful men to preach the gospel
through the country, and I am ready, if necessary, to sell all that I possess to
give to them as part of their wages. He promised me it should be done. But
I had reason to expect that he would receive such a request as from the
mouth of one out of his reason. Now there was at the convent a man called
Hoory Gabriel, who was said to be insane, and was known to all his
acquaintance as a man that never would say a word on the subject of
religion, and he was a scribe of the patriarch, and from the time of my
arrival until that day, had never asked me a single question about my faith,
or opinions, nor had given me the least word of advice about any of my
errors. The same night, as this priest was passing the evening in company
with the patriarch, bishop, and other individuals, as if they had been
conversing on my idiocy in making the request of to-day, the patriarch sent
for me to come and sit with them. I came. The patriarch then asked this
priest and the others present, if two proper men could be found to go and
preach the gospel. They then answered one to another, such an one, and
such an one, would be the fittest persons, some mentioning one and some
another, looking at me in the mean time laughing, to see what I would say.
CHAPTER XVIII. 551
I smiled in a pleasant manner at all this, and when one asked me, why I
laughed? I said to the patriarch, "Have you not perfect confidence in the
integrity of the priest Gabriel?" He said, "Yes." I then said, pray let this
priest then examine me for the space of a few days, and if he does not
conclude that I am a heretic, I will for one, take upon myself this duty of
preaching. This remark put an immediate end to the conversation.
The third day, when the bishop wished to mock me before the patriarch and
a shekh of the country, I answered his questions according to his own
manner; but in a little time he began to revile me, and rebuke me for
blasphemy against the eucharist, against the virgin Mary and the pictures,
and that because I had said before one of his deacons, that were it not for
fear of the patriarch, I would tear all the pictures to pieces and burn them. I
gave him answer to every particular by itself, and when he found that he
could produce against me no accusation, he increased in wrath. I then said,
if this is your pleasure, I will say no more. I told him that I had said, that
pictures were not Gods; that such was my opinion always; and that I wished
to tell all the common people so, that they might understand it. But to this
he would not consent. He then began to accuse me of saying of the
eucharist, "Let them smell the scent of it, and know that it is but bread and
wine still." I told him that if he would give me leave to speak, or if he
wished to hear my views, I would speak; "but how is it that you bring
against me accusations, and do not suffer me to make my defence?" Here
again he was not willing that I should speak, but the patriarch said to me,
"Speak." I then observed, that St. Ephraim says, "Come, eat the fire of the
bread, and drink the spirit of the wine;" and began to say from this, that our
eating the body of Christ was not natural, but spiritual. Then again he fell
into a rage against me. I said to him, "It is written, be ye angry and sin not.
I told you before, that I would keep silence and not speak without your
consent, and whatever you wish, tell me that I may act or refrain
accordingly." At this the patriarch smiled. But the bishop fell into a passion
still more violent, against the patriarch as well as myself, and rose and went
away. I also left the room. In the evening, when were collected together the
patriarch and bishop and all the monks, with priest Nicholas, whom they
were about to ordain bishop on the morrow, the patriarch began to ask me
questions respecting my faith. When I saw that their object was neither to
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benefit me, nor receive benefit, I gave them answers calculated to continue
the conversation in a trifling strain, saying, "My faith is the faith of Peter,
and the faith of Peter is my faith. I believe all that God has given by
inspiration to the one only holy catholic church." He asked me, What is the
church? I answered, "The church is the whole company of those who
believe in the Messiah and his law, on all the face of the earth." But where
is the place of the church? "The place of the church is the whole world, it is
made up of every nation and people." "What," said he "the English among
the rest?" "Yes, of the English also." Afterwards, when he continued to
question me, and I saw that he had no other object than to try me, I assured
him, this is my faith, and to this faith will I hold, whether it is worth any
thing in your estimation or not. I then asked him if he was willing to hold a
discussion on the subject; but he would not permit it in any shape. He
afterwards requested me to tell my faith again without fear and without
concealment. I referred them to the priest that was about to be ordained,
saying, that I had conversed with him on all points particularly, and that he
was able to make answer for me. The priest then bore testimony on the
spot, that I had said before him that I believed the pope to be infallible,
while I never said this to him at any time. Afterward, when I was in his
company privately, I inquired how he could bear such testimony as he had
done. He confessed in the fullest terms, that he knew it was a falsehood, but
that he said what he did, that they might cease talking with me. The same
night I had resolved on quitting them; so at about midnight I left the
convent, committing myself to the protection of God, who never deserts
them who put their trust in him, and arrived at Beyroot, on the morning of
Thursday, March 2, 1826.
Here then I remain at present, not that I may take my views from the
English, or from the Bible men, nor that I may receive my religion from
them. No, by no means; for I hold to the word of God. This is beyond all
danger of error. In this I believe; in this is my faith; and according to it I
desire to regulate my life, and enjoy all my consolations. By this I wish to
show what I believe and not to confer with flesh and blood, that I may not
run now nor hereafter in vain; for I know and am persuaded, that the true
religion is not according to the teaching of men, but according to the
inspiration of God: not according to the custom of education, but according
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to the truth, which is made manifest by the word of God. I therefore say to
myself now, as I did in the convent with the patriarch, where I wrote thus:
This is what I wrote some time since, and I would revolve these thoughts in
my mind at all times. The object in all that I have done, or attempted, or
written, in this late occurrence, is, that I may act as a disciple and servant of
Christ. I could not, therefore, receive any advice, which should direct me to
hide my religion under a bushel. I cannot regulate myself by any rules
contrary to those of Christ; for I believe that all who follow his word in
truth, are the good grain, and that all those who add to his word, are the
tares sown by the enemy, which shall soon be gathered in bundles and cast
CHAPTER XVIII. 554
into the fire unquenchable. And I beg every member of my sect, i. e. of the
Maronite church, who loves truth, if he sees me in an error to point it out to
me, that I may leave it, and cleave to the truth. But I must request those
who would rectify my views, not to do as did a priest at Beyroot, who after
a considerable discussion, denied the inspiration of the New Testament.
Men like him I do not wish to attempt to point out my errors; for such men,
it is evident, need rather to be preached to, than to preach; and to be guided,
rather than to guide. But if any understanding man will take the word of
God and prove to me from it any doctrine whatever, I will respect him and
honour him with all pleasure. But if a doctrine cannot be established thus, it
is not only opposed to the doctrines of Christ, but to the views of the early
christians, the fathers of the church; such as St. Ephraim and others. Such
doctrines I cannot confess to be correct, although it should cost me the
shedding of my blood. Be it known, that I am not seeking money, nor
office; nor do I fear any thing from contempt, nor from the cross, nor from
the persecution of men, nor from their insults, nor their evil accusations, so
far as they are false. For I am ready for the sake of Christ to die daily, to be
accounted as a sheep for the slaughter, for he, in that he suffered being
tempted, is able to succour those that are tempted. I consider that the
sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory
that shall be revealed in us. I believe that Jesus is our High Priest for ever
and hath an unchangeable priesthood, wherefore he is able to save them to
the uttermost that come unto God by him, for he is the one Mediator
between God and man, and he ever liveth to make intercession with the
Father for us; and he is the propitiation for our sins, and to him be glory
with the Father and his Holy Spirit of life for ever and ever--Amen.
I would only add, if there is any one, whoever he may be, that will shew me
to be under a mistake, and that there is no salvation for me unless I submit
to the pope, or at least shew me that it is lawful to do so, I am ready to give
up all my peculiar views and submit in the Lord. But without evidence that
my views are thus mistaken, I cannot give them up, and yield a blind
obedience, until it shall be not only told that I am mad, but until I shall be
so in fact, and all my understanding leaves me. Not until men shall have
burned not only the Bibles printed by the English, but all the Bibles of the
world. But these two things, understanding and the Bible, I pray God to
CHAPTER XVIII. 555
preserve both to me and to all the followers of Christ, and that he will
preserve and save all you, my friends, in the Lord.
ASAAD SHIDIAK.
6. Among those who came to see Asaad to-day, were three of his brothers
and an uncle. Mansoor, the oldest of the brothers, we had never before
seen. He is a furious bigot, and perfectly ignorant and regardless of the first
principles of religion. The second, Tannoos, or Antony, has lived among us
as a teacher, and has good native and acquired talents; but, though he might
be a protestant if he were left at liberty, he thinks it altogether preposterous
to attempt to quarrel with bishops and patriarchs on the subject of religion.
These two brothers, and the uncle, (the last worse than the first,) came and
conversed together with Asaad in his chamber a considerable time. Hearing
them very earnest, I took the liberty also to go in. They continued their
rebukes and arguments, (especially the uncle,) in so harsh and unfeeling a
manner, that it made me tremble to hear them. They contradicted Asaad,
scoffed at and threatened him, calling him possessed, mad, under the power
of Satan, and so on. Asaad consented to go home and leave the English,
which was the great point they wished to gain, provided they would get an
assurance from the patriarch in writing, to say, on the faith of a christian,
that he would not molest him.
"But," said they, "then you must hold your tongue, and not broach your
new opinions among the people."
"What," replied Asaad, "must I go and live like a dumb man? No, that I will
never do. My religion binds me not to do it. I must love my neighbour as
myself."
"Why do you not go," said they, "to the Druses, and the Moslems, and
preach the gospel to them? You answer, because there is danger. So there is
danger in the present case; this is not a land of liberty, therefore be silent."
CHAPTER XVIII. 556
They.--"We can give you no such security. Nobody dares go to the patriarch
with such a request. You cannot be permitted to publish your notions
abroad among the people."
They rose and left the room in an angry despair. Mansoor returned, and
wished to speak a word with Asaad at the door. In a moment, Asaad
returned. "Do you know what Mansoor has told me?" said he. "His last
words were, 'Even if the patriarch and the emir should do nothing; if they
make no attempts to take your life; be assured, we ourselves will do the
work: so take heed to your self accordingly.'"
While in this attitude his next younger brother, Galed, knocked at the door.
I called to Asaad to inform him of the fact; but he gave me no answer. I
then invited Galed to another room, where Asaad soon joined us with a full
and heavy heart. The two brothers saluted each other with embarrassment.
Asaad evidently wished to be alone, and the brother, after a few mild,
unmeaning inquiries, left him.
Asaad's brother Galed came again to-day, and discovered more feeling than
yesterday on the subject of his brother's leaving the English. He said he had
brought an insupportable shame upon the family. Asaad insisted, that such
shame was no argument whatever for his leaving us; that all the disciples of
Christ were to expect it as a thing of course. Galed assured him, that
nobody would think of molesting him, if he were at Hadet. I asked Galed if
his brother Mansoor did not threaten yesterday to kill him. He turned away,
colored, and muttered something that I did not understand; but the whole
was a full acknowledgment of the fact.
"But," said Galed, "if any one were disposed to take your life, could they
not do it as well here, as at home?"
I answered, "no; that the emir Beshir himself could not enter my house
without my permission, and that if the relatives of Asaad did not cease from
their threats, I should feel myself bound to shut them out of it."
Asaad turning to me, said, "I cannot please these people. Whatever I say,
they are sure to be angry. Soft words, or hard words, it makes no difference
to them. They come as if I were under their kingly authority. They lay hold
of my cloak, and say, 'Give me this.' If I say, 'I will not give it,' they are
angry; and if I reason with them with all the mildness of which I am
capable, and say, 'Cannot you be accommodated elsewhere? Can you not
wait upon me in a few days?' &c. they are equally angry."
"To our brother Asaad Esh Shidiak: May God bless you.--We beg you to
come home to-night, and not wait till Sunday. We have pledged our mother
that you shall come. If you fail to do so, you will trouble us all. Your
brother,
GALED."
To this letter, Asaad sat down, and instantly wrote the following reply:
"To our much honoured and very dear brother Galed: God preserve
him.--Your note has reached us, in which you speak of our coming home
to-night, and say, that if we do not come, we trouble you all.
"Now if we were in some distant land, your longing after us in this manner
might be very proper; but we are near you, and you have been here, and
seen us in all health, and we have seen you. Then quiet our mother, that we,
through the bounty of God, are in perfect health, and that we have great
peace in the Lord Jesus Christ, peace above all that the world can afford,
and abundant joy in the Holy Ghost above all earthly joy. But as to our
coming up this evening, we do not find it convenient, not even though we
had the strongest desire to see our mother and you.
"I beg you all to love God, and to serve him in our Lord Jesus Christ. This
is of all things the most important; for if we love God, if he but renew our
CHAPTER XVIII. 559
hearts by the holy Ghost, we shall enjoy each other's society for ever and
ever.
"And now we are prevented from coming to you, and you know we are not
void of all desire to see you, but the hindrances to which we have alluded,
are, we think, a sufficient apology. We beg you to accept our excuse, and to
apologize for us to our mother, and we pray God to pour out his grace
richly on you all, and lengthen your days.
"P. S. Tell our mother not to think so much of these earthly things but
rather of God our Saviour."
This letter had been gone scarcely time sufficient to reach Hadet, when the
mother herself was announced at the door. We welcomed her with all
cordiality, and treated her with all the respect and attention we could. But
all we could do or say did not alter her resolution to get her son away, if in
her power. She besought him by the honour he owed her, by the love he
professed for her, by his regard for the reputation of her family, for religion
itself, and for his own personal safety, that he would immediately
accompany her home; and when she found him inflexible, she declared she
would never stir out of the house unless he went with her.
To all this Asaad replied, "To what purpose would it be, that I should go
home? You wish me to go, you say, that people may be convinced that I am
not mad. But you, who come hither, and see, and converse with me, say,
after all, that I am mad. How can it be expected that I should convince
others that I am not mad, when my own mother will not believe it. Or do
you think that if I once get out among you, the air of Hadet will change my
opinions, or induce me to be silent? All these are vain expectations. I see no
object to be gained. If I should go to Hadet, and be constantly disputing
with the people, and telling them, that you are all going astray; that you are
worshipping idols instead of the living God; that I could wish to tear down
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every picture in your churches; that the bread and wine of the Lord's Supper
are not Jesus Christ; that I believe the pope to be the beast in the
revelation,[I] whose business is to deceive the people and ruin their
souls;--by all this, I should injure your feelings, enrage the people, excite
the opposition of the emirs, and bishops, and patriarchs, and then return
here just in the state I am in now."
10. Set apart a day of fasting and prayer on Asaad's account. He was
observed not to be in a happy temper. Towards evening he spoke of going
home. I hoped he would finish writing the statement we had requested of
him, "for," said I, "if you go home I shall not see you again for months."
"No," said he, "perhaps not for years." His manner was very peculiar. I
knew not what was the matter, till, in the evening, after a long conversation
on the evidences of inspiration, he said, "I have been in deep darkness
to-day. My heart has been full of blasphemy, such as I have scarcely ever
known. I have even doubted the existence of God. But now I am relieved,
and I would just say, I shall not go home to-morrow, as I hinted."
12. Word came to Asaad, that the shekh was with the family below, and
would be glad to see him. Asaad went down, but in a few minutes came up,
pale and trembling, and said he was exceedingly dizzy and faint. He had
just taken coffee below, attended with suspicious circumstances, and
begged to know if he might not be poisoned. We opened a medical book we
had, and explained to him, as rapidly as possible, the symptoms of a
poisoned person. "Oh! these are my feelings," said he, and fell upon his
knees before his seat in silent prayer. We immediately gave him an emetic,
which operated well, and before night he was relieved of every alarming
symptom. The youth who gave the coffee, being sent for, gave good
evidence of having had no bad intentions; and notwithstanding many
suspicious circumstances, we did not think the evidence of an attempt at
poison sufficiently strong, to prosecute any public inquiry into the matter.
CHAPTER XVIII. 562
16. A youth from Der el Kamer called to see Asaad. He remarked, that he
once saw a priest at his village tear in pieces five of these books of ours, but
he could not tell for what reasons. He had, apparently, never seen the ten
commandments before, and was very much surprised to find
image-worship so expressly condemned in them. A letter was received by
Asaad from the patriarch, written in very plausible terms.
17. Four of the relatives of Asaad came down, and succeeded in persuading
him to accompany them home. He said he could not believe, after all that
has been said, that they would do him violence, and he strongly expected
that his visit to Hadet would do good. A majority of us opposed his going
with all we could say; but he thinks he knows the people here better than
we do. He left us toward evening, expecting to be absent only a few days.
24. Phares Shidiak came to my house to day, and wished to speak with me
in private.
"Yesterday morning," said he, "as I was in my room reading the New
Testament, my brother Mansoor entered, drew a sword he had, and gave me
a blow upon the neck. I continued with the book in my hand, until one
snatched it from me. Mansoor afterwards drew up his musket, threatening
to shoot me; but my mother interfered to prevent him. My brother Tannoos
hearing a bustle, came in with a cane, and began cudgelling me, without
stopping to inquire at all into the merits of the case, calling out, 'Will you
leave off your heresy, and go to church like other people, or not?' Mansoor
not finding Asaad present, as he seemed to have expected, went to Asaad's
chest which stood near me, seized all the books he had received of you,
Hebrew, Syriac, Italian, and Arabic, tore them, one by one, in pieces, and
strewed them on the floor.
"In the course of the day, I came down near where the soldiers of the emir
are encamped, and passed the night in company with my brother Galeb.
CHAPTER XVIII. 563
This morning he returned, with a line from me to Asaad, and I came off to
Beyroot, with the full determination never to go home again. And now I
will either go to some place in this country where I can enjoy my liberty or
I will take ship, and leave the country altogether."
In the space of a few hours, Galeb came in search of Phares, with a letter
from Asaad, of which the following is a copy.
"To my beloved brother Phares; the Lord Most High preserve him. Your
departure caused me great grief. First, because you were impatient when
trial and persecution came upon you. It is a thing we are regularly to
expect, that if we hope in God in this world, we shall give universal
offence. But we have another city, for which we hope. Do not lose your
courage, for you have not yet resisted unto blood, striving against sin.
Remember, we cannot share in the glory of Christ, if we share not also in
his sufferings. Therefore, rejoice whenever you are tried; rejoice, and never
be sad; for our faith is sure.
"You must know, that if you fail to come home, you will give us great pain,
and this, you know, would be inconsistent with love. Jesus says, 'By this
shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.'
You well know how much joy and consolation it would give us to see you;
CHAPTER XVIII. 564
do not then deny us this pleasure, but come at all events. If you do not
come, it may be an injury both to yourself and me. I wish to see you, if it be
only to say to you two words, and then act your pleasure; for not every
word can be said with paper and pen. Farewell.
ASAAD."
Galeb took me aside, and begged me to urge his brother to go home. I said I
had already advised him to do so, but that I could not force him to go--that
if he found he could not enjoy liberty of conscience, and the privilege of
reading the word of God, in Hadet, he was welcome to stay with me as long
as he pleased. "You are a man," said Galeb, "that speaks the truth and acts
uprightly, but Asaad and Phares are not like you; they talk very improper
things." Among these things, he mentioned a report to which Asaad had
given circulation, respecting the patriarch, to which I was obliged to reply,
that instead of taking it for granted to be a false report, he ought to believe
it to be true, and that such a report was not abroad respecting the patriarch
alone, but respecting a majority of patriarchs and bishops of the whole land.
After Galeb had gone, we put a great many questions to Phares, and he
communicated some interesting particulars. Among others was the
following:
"The day that Asaad and myself left you, (the 17th,) the bishop of Beyroot
was at the next house, and I went to salute him.
CHAPTER XVIII. 565
"He said to me, 'I understand you have become English, too. You reason on
the subject of religion.'
Phares.--"Yes, and from whom is the Bible? is it from the English, or from
God?"
B.--"See, now you have begun again to argue on the subject of religion. I
tell you, young man, cease this heretical habit, or you are
excommunicated."
Two brothers of Phares, Mansoor and Galeb, came to converse with him
anew. We saw them seated together on the ground, at a little distance from
the house, but afterwards saw them no more. It is singular that Phares
should have left without coming either to take his cloak, or bid us
farewell.[J]
28. Having heard nothing particular directly from Asaad since he left,
especially since the affair of the books, I yesterday sent him a line, and
to-day received the following reply:
CHAPTER XVIII. 566
"Dear Sir,--After expressing imperfectly the love I bear you, and the desire
I have to see you in all health, I have to say, that in due time your letter
came to hand, and I read and understood it. You ask respecting our health. I
answer, I am in a state of anxiety, but not so great as some days ago.
"On Thursday last, having come home from a visit to the emir Sulman, I
found the remnants of the Holy Scriptures, torn in pieces, as there is reason
to believe, by order of the bishop. When I was told, that my brother
Mansoor had done this mischief, I returned to the emir, and informed him
of the affair. He sent to call Mansoor, while I returned again to our house. I
now learned, that my brother Phares had gone off. After searching for him
some time, I went down to the inn in quest of him, but he was not to be
found. As I was on my way returning from the inn, where I had gone in
search of my brother, I prayed to God, that he would take every thing from
me, if necessary, only let faith and love towards him remain in my heart.
"As I proceeded on, a man came up, and gave me information that all the
consuls of Beyroot were slain, and that you also were slain with them. The
report came from a man, who said he had deposited goods with you for
safety. In order to be the more sure, I asked the man if it were really true,
and he again assured me, that it was. Ask me not the state of my feelings at
that moment.
"On reaching home, I heard this terrible news confirmed; at the same time
looking out, and seeing the heap of ashes near the house, all that remained
of the 11 copies of the holy scriptures which my brothers had destroyed, I
burst into tears, and committed all my concerns into the hands of God,
saying, 'Blessed be his holy name: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken
away;'--and so I prayed on, with tears and groanings, which I cannot
describe.
"I afterwards heard, that Phares was probably in the neighbourhood, and set
off to search after him by night, but found him not. When I heard the news
of your death confirmed, I sent off a messenger, that, wherever Phares
CHAPTER XVIII. 567
might be found, he might return; and when I received his letter, saying that
he had gone to your house, I could not yet believe that the report respecting
you was false.
"But when the truth on this subject began to appear, then I heard by a
person who came to the yesterday evening, that the patriarch and the emir
had made an agreement to kill me, and that they had sent men to lie in wait
for that purpose. I was afterwards told, by another person, that some of the
servants of the emir were appointed to accomplish this end.
"All my concerns I commit into the hands of God, who created me.
Through the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, I hope that all my distresses
will be for the best.
"I accept with pleasure all your kind wishes, and send you many salutations
in the Lord, and pray for you length of days.
31. Information is received, that Asaad has been taken away against his
will, to the patriarch.
CHAPTER XVIII. 568
April 4. Phares Shidiak arrived here in the evening direct from Der Alma,
and said he had accompanied Asaad to that convent a week ago, that Asaad
was still there, and that the patriarch, having in the morning set off for
Cannobeen, would send down for Assad after a few days. He then handed
me the following line from Asaad.
"If you can find a vessel setting off for Malta, in the course of four or five
days, send me word; if not, pray for your brother.
ASAAD."
We were disposed to send off a messenger this very evening, but Phares
said it would not be necessary.
A neighbouring emir being sick, one day, Asaad carried him a paper of
medicine, on the outside of which he had written how it was to be taken.
While Asaad stood without, a servant took in this medicine, and gave it to
the prince, saying, "This is from Asaad Esh Shidiak, and here he has
written the directions on the paper." The prince, who is not remarkable for
mildness, and perhaps was not conscious that Asaad overheard him, spoke
out angrily, "A fig for the paper and writing; 'tis the medicine I want."
"Your lordship is in the right," replied Asaad, "the truth is with you. The
medicine is the thing; the paper that holds it, is nothing. So we ought to say
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of the gospel, the great medicine for the soul. 'Tis the pure gospel we want,
and not the church that holds it."
After Mansoor, in his catholic zeal, had torn up and burned all his Bibles
and Testaments, Asaad could not remain without the scriptures, but sent
and obtained a copy from the little church, which he daily read, marking the
most striking and important passages.
When his relatives, to the number of twenty or more, had assembled, and
Asaad perceived they were come to take him to the patriarch by force, he
began to expostulate with Tannoos, and besought him to desist from a step
so inconsistent with fraternal love. He besought in vain. Tannoos turned
away from him with a cold indifference. Affected with his hardness, Asaad
went aside, and wept and prayed aloud.
The evening before he was taken away, he said to those who had
assembled, "If I had not read the gospel, I should have been surprised at
this new movement of yours. But now it is just what I might have expected.
In this blessed book, I am told, the brother shall deliver up the brother to
death, and a man's foes shall be they of his own household. Here you see it
is just so. You have come together to fulfil this prophecy of the gospel.
What have I done against you? What is my crime? Allowing that I do take
the Bible as my only and sufficient guide to heaven, what sin is there in
this?" During the evening, he laid himself down to sleep, as he was to set
off early in the morning. But he was often interrupted; for, whenever he
caught a word of false doctrine from the lips of those who continued their
conversation, he would rise up, refute them, and again compose himself to
rest. One of his uncles, speaking of his going to the patriarch, said in a great
rage, "If you don't go off with us peaceably, we will take your life." Asaad
replied, "Softly, softly, my dear uncle, don't be hasty. Blessed are the
meek."
Phares wrote a letter this evening to Asaad, in a hand that had been agreed
on between them, saying, that if he would come to Beyroot, he need not
fear, and that it might be a matter for further consideration whether he
should leave the country.
CHAPTER XVIII. 570
5. The letter of Phares was sent off by a moslem, who returned at evening,
saying that when he arrived at the convent, he was accosted by two or three
men, inquiring his business, telling him he was a Greek, and had letters
from the English. They then seized him, and took the letter by force, and,
had he not shewn them that he was a moslem, would have probably sent
him to the emir of the district for further examination. They then asked him
some questions about the English, and assured him that after eight days
Asaad would no longer be a living man. Thus were our hopes of a second
deliverance of this sufferer of persecution, for the present, blasted. After all
the threats, which have been thrown out without being put in execution, we
rather hope, that this last will prove like the rest; yet we cannot tell how far
their hatred of the truth may, with the divine forbearance, carry them. We
leave all with him, in whose hands our life and breath are, and whose are all
our ways, with the humble hope, that light may yet arise out of darkness,
and that much glory may be added to his name, from this evident work of
Satan.
he was going through a course of confession, during which the rule is, that
the person so confessing, shall pass his time, for a number of days, alone,
and see no company.
14. We were, to-day, credibly informed, that Shidiak is still firm in his
adherence to the gospel, but that he was kept under rigid inspection, not
being permitted to step out of his room without an attendant.
17. Phares Shidiak informed us to-day, that he had been told that his
brother Asaad had been at the college of Ain Warka. He thought it might be
true, as one object in delivering him up to the patriarch was, to give the
people the general impression, that he had no longer any thing to do with
the English. He had now been a sufficient time absent from us to give
general currency to the report, that he was no longer with us, and now,
perhaps, the patriarch had let him go free.
27. The messenger, who went before to Cannobeen, had set out to go for us
a second time, and this morning early returned with the following
story:--Being met by a man near Batroon, whom he suspected to be from
Cannobeen, he inquired him out, and found him to be a messenger sent by
Asaad himself to his uncles and other connexions, to beg them to come and
deliver him. Asaad saw the man, and gave him his commission from the
window of the convent, without the knowledge of the patriarch, or the
others in his service. This messenger said, that Asaad was in close
confinement, in chains, and was daily beaten; and that the great cause of
complaint against him was, that he refused to worship either the pictures, or
the virgin Mary.
28. J., the messenger, called, and said, that he himself should not go to
Cannobeen, but twelve or fifteen of his other relatives would go and
endeavour at least to save him from chains and stripes. J. had been to the
emir Beshir the less, who lives at Hadet, begging him, (with a present) to
save his brother, if it should prove that he had suffered by the suspicion or
the resentment of the patriarch. The emir promised to interfere--"But why,"
said he, "should Asaad go and join the English? they are a people I do not
love."
June 2. A youth of the neighbourhood said it was reported that Asaad was a
complete maniac; that he rent his garments, raved, reviled, &c. and that he
had been sent to the convent at Koshia, like other lunatics, for a miraculous
cure. This news was brought by priest Bernardus, of Gzir, mentioned in
Shidiak's statement.
"To our respected brother J. ----. After expressing my love to you, I have to
say, that your letter by your brother ----, arrived in safety, and I have
understood it. In it you and ----, inquire after my health. May the Lord pour
out his grace upon you, and follow you with his blessings. As to me, I am at
present in health, with regard to my body, but as to other circumstances,
your brother will give you information. Love to cousin ----, your wife. Pray
send me word respecting you every opportunity, and may the Lord lengthen
your days. From your brother.
This letter is certainly genuine, and is a full proof of what nature the
insanity is, under which he labours. It has greatly relieved the anxiety we
felt from the report of yesterday.
From the verbal account, given by the lad who brought the letter, the
following are selected as the most important particulars. He entered the
convent on his arrival, and seeing nobody but the keeper of the
CHAPTER XVIII. 573
prison-room, obtained leave to go in, and see Asaad alone. He found him
sitting on the bare floor, with a heavy chain around his neck, and firmly
fastened at the other end into the wall. His bed had been removed together
with all his books and writing materials, and (what is considered here the
extreme of privation,) he was left without a pipe.
The lad continued with him an hour or two, without being discovered by
any one but the keeper. During the conversation, Asaad observed, that not
long since he was sent to Koshia, as a man possessed of a devil, and that he
escaped from that place and had arrived near Tripoli, when he was taken by
a party of Maronites, and brought back to the patriarch. He had, since that
time, been kept regularly at Cannobeen, subject occasionally to beating and
insult, from such as might call in to see the heretic. We understood the man
to say, that the patriarch even instructed the common people to spit in his
face, and call him by odious names, in order to shame him into submission.
Asaad gave his advice that we should either send some one with a horse,
and get him away by stealth, or get the consul to interfere by writing to the
pasha. The letter written by Asaad was done through the contrivance of his
keeper for a small reward.
After hearing all this, we went directly to the consul to inform him of the
case, and to urge him to an interference. He consented, that we should first
procure some one to write a firm and consistent letter to the patriarch,
demanding by what right he had taken a man from an English employer,
and under English protection, and imprisoned him unheard, &c. intimating,
that if the man was not soon given up, something more would be done.
Toward evening, J. came again to inquire what we had concluded on. When
he found what step we had taken, he seemed much alarmed for his own
safety, and begged us not to proceed, for he should be immediately
suspected as the mediator of the affair, and should be in danger of being
persecuted as such. He mentioned, as a justification of his fears, that the
keeper overheard Asaad when he recommended that course to his brother,
and that the keeper, when inquired of, would of course mention the fact to
CHAPTER XVIII. 574
5. J. has been to see the emir, in order to persuade him to intercede with his
uncle, the emir Beshir, but the former was not at home, and therefore the
latter was not consulted. J. then went to the emir M. but found him quite
averse to do any thing, saying, that to liberate a man, who had become
English, would never do. He next saw Mansoor, the brother, and asked him
if he knew that Asaad was in close confinement. "Yes," answered he, "and
he may end his days there, unless he can learn to behave himself better."
One characteristic mark of a heathen is, that he is "without natural
affection, implacable, unmerciful."
J. says, that his brother has told him in addition, that Asaad himself, on the
whole, wished not to have the consul interfere, but that some one might, for
the present, be sent every week or two, to see how he got along, and in the
mean time, he hoped to make his own escape, for that only a few days
before, he had loosed himself from his chains, and got out of the convent,
but not understanding the path, he became afraid to proceed, and returned
of his own accord.
6. Went again to confer with the consul with regard to Asaad. When we
mentioned the fact, that Asaad was under a sort of oath of obedience to the
patriarch, an agreement which all make who are educated from the funds of
the Ain Warka college, he seemed to think differently of the case, because,
though an oath to bind the conscience, as in this case, can never be binding,
and is neither acknowledged by Turks or English, yet, in the opinion of all
Maronites, it justifies what the patriarch has done. This English protection,
they would say, is of no avail, since he was under a previous engagement to
serve the patriarch. The consul thinks the case, if presented to the chief
emir, would be rejected without consideration, on the ground, that it was
ecclesiastical, and not civil; and if presented to the pasha, he would exact
fines from many innocent convents, and other wise oppress them, without
CHAPTER XVIII. 575
perhaps, after all, procuring the release of the prisoner. He would prefer
some secret mode of effecting the object.
14. Received a line from the friendly Maronite bishop, to whom I had
written, (April 8,) who says that he has been assured, probably afresh, that
Shidiak is in prison, and suffers beating.
15. The emir A. came and conversed a length of time on the case of
Shidiak. I offered to reward him well for his trouble, if he would procure
his release, which he has promised to attempt.
21. J. came to say, that he had never seen the emir A. who had endeavoured
to persuade his uncle to write to the patriarch. The uncle, however, refused,
but added, "You may write in my name, and say, that it is my pleasure, that
Shidiak should be liberated." The messenger has, therefore, gone with such
a letter.
24. The messenger from the emir A. arrived from Cannobeen, with the
following letter from the patriarch, in answer to his own.
"After kissing the hands of your honourable excellency, &c. &c. With
regard to your slave, Asaad Esh Shidiak, the state into which he is fallen, is
not unknown to your excellency. His understanding is subverted. In some
respects he is a demoniac, in others not. Every day his malady increases
upon him, until I have been obliged to take severe measures with him, and
put him under keepers, lest he should escape from here, and grow worse,
and infuse his poison into others. Two days ago, he succeeded in getting
away in the night, and obliged me to send men to bind him and bring him
back; and after he was come, he showed signs of returning sanity, and
begged to be forgiven. But he does not abide by his word, for he is very
fickle; and the most probable opinion respecting him is, that he is possessed
of the devil. However, as he was, to appearance, disposed to yield me
obedience, I treated him kindly and humanely, and used every means to
promote his permanent cure. This is what I have to communicate to your
excellency, and the bearer will inform you further. Whatever your
excellency commands, I obey, and the Lord lengthen your life.
27. A youth from Ain Warka informed us, that he had seen a letter in
Asaad's own hand-writing, saying, that he had yielded obedience to the
patriarch, and professed again the faith of the Roman catholic church. This
report, excited great joy, he says, at the college. We are rather pained by the
news, because, if Asaad has done this, we are almost sure it has been done
insincerely, and merely to escape the pains of his persecution. The same
person says, that a relative of the patriarch at Cannobeen, has been in the
habit of writing, every week or two, to the college, to give the news of what
was done with Asaad from time to time, in which he spoke of his chains
and stripes, and so on. He also observes, that many people have boldly
questioned the right of the patriarch to proceed to such extremities with the
members of his church, saying, they saw not, at this rate, which was chief
governor of the mountains, the prince, or the patriarch.
CHAPTER XVIII. 577
14. The youth who went to Tripoli to attempt something, came back
unsuccessful.
17. Application has been made by Phares to the emir M., but he refused to
do any thing for Asaad, alleging that it is an affair of religion, and belongs
exclusively to the patriarch. Phares says, that notwithstanding the
superstition and anger, which his mother exhibited when here, she has more
than once said, that the English are better than the Maronites, for they take
an interest in the fate of Asaad, while the Maronites all seem to care
nothing about him, whether he is dead or alive, happy or wretched.
18. Tannoos came to converse about his brother Asaad. He had just
received a letter in Asaad's own hand-writing, saying, that he was reduced
to a great extremity of distress, and perhaps had not long to live, and
begging Tannoos to come up and see if nothing could be done to end or
mitigate his sufferings. Tannoos declares that he would be very glad to get
him away from Cannobeen, if he could be safe, but that in any other place
in the dominions of the emir Beshir, he would be killed. He might be safe at
CHAPTER XVIII. 578
the consul's, but with me, he would not be. "There are men in these
mountains," said he, "that can kill and have killed patriarchs and emirs, and
that in their own houses; and why could they not kill Asaad with you, if
they chose? Is your house more secure than the convent of the patriarch, or
the palace of the emir? A man in entering your house, would violate all
law, but the English would not make war for the killing of a single man."
19. Phares brought us a letter, which had just been received by the family at
Hadet, from the patriarch, wishing them to come immediately to
CHAPTER XVIII. 579
Cannobeen. Tannoos and his mother have gone, and intend, if possible, to
bring Asaad away, either to Kesroan, or to Hadet. The mother insisted on
going, and wished to pass through Beyroot on her way, that she might
consult us before she went; but this was not permitted her.
The above mentioned letter, in English, runs thus:--"After telling you how
much I desire to see you in all health and prosperity, I send you news
respecting the wretch Asaad Esh Shidiak, otherwise called lord of hell. His
obduracy, with which you are acquainted, has exceedingly increased. It is
not unknown to you, how much care I have bestowed on him for his good,
how much I have laboured for his salvation, and under what severe
discipline I have put him; and all to no effect. And now, as might be
expected, he has fallen ill, and therefore can no longer run away, according
to his custom, and we have been thus constrained to take off the severity of
our treatment. But fearing lest his disease should increase upon him, I have
sent you word, that you may come and see how he is, and consult what is
best to be done with him. Make no delay, therefore, in coming, and the
apostolic blessing be upon you."
This attempt of his family to effect his liberation failed, for some reason
unknown; and he continued immured in prison, suffering persecution. He
was confined in a small room with an iron collar round his neck fastened to
the wall with a strong chain. In October, 1826, another attempt was made to
effect the liberation of Asaad. The civil authorities were consulted, but
could not be prevailed upon to enlist in his behalf. In November, 1826,
however, he effected his escape, but was soon arrested, and treated more
cruelly than ever.
In the Herald for April, 1828, we find the following history of Asaad from
the time he was betrayed into the hands of the patriarch till the spring of
1826. It is thus prefaced by Mr. Bird, one of the missionaries.
who, some time previous, spent a few weeks in our families, and whose
heart seems to have been touched with the truths of the gospel. The priest,
who has proved so great a benefactor to Asaad, is a relative of the shekh,
and they have grown up together from childhood on the most intimate
terms of familiarity and friendship. Many of the occurrences here related,
the priest found written among the monks, who pass their time idly with the
patriarch, and to many he was an eye-witness. The account was drawn up
under his own inspection. He seems a man unusually conscientious for an
Arab, unusually open to conviction in argument, and has promised to do his
utmost to save Asaad from further abuse, and in the end to deliver him from
his state of confinement. Thus, while all our own efforts have failed of
essentially benefitting the poor man, the Lord, without any of our
instrumentality, has raised up a friend from the midst of his persecutors,
who has already saved him from impending death, and we hope and pray,
will soon open the way for his complete deliverance from this Syrian
Inquisition."
Brief history of Asaad Esh Shidiak, from the time of his being betrayed into
the hands of the Maronite Patriarch, in the spring of 1826.
When the relatives of Asaad brought him to the convent of Alma in the
district of Kesroan, and gave him up to the patriarch, the latter began by
way of flattery to promise him all the worldly advantages he could bestow;
but withal demanding that he should put away all the heretical notions, and
all the corrupt knowledge, which the Bible-men, those enemies of the pope,
had taught him. He replied, "These things which you hold out to me, are to
me of no value. I no longer trouble myself about them, for they are vain and
of short duration. Every christian is bound to think, and labour, and strive
to be accounted worthy to hear that blessed welcome, 'Come ye blessed of
my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the
world.' As to rejecting from my mind those things which I have learned
from the Bible-men, I have to say, that, for many years, I had read,
occasionally, the holy scriptures, which are able to make us wise unto
salvation, but could not live according to them; for I was given to the
CHAPTER XVIII. 581
During the few days they remained in the Kesroan, the patriarch shewed
him every attention, and suffered no one to oppose his opinions saying,
"The protestants, by the great sums they have given him, have blinded his
eyes, and inclined him to join them, and diffuse their poisonous sentiments,
so that he cannot, at once, be brought to leave them. Let him alone for the
present, do nothing to oppose or to offend him, until we shall arrive at
Cannobeen, where we may examine into his faith and state at our leisure,
and if we find that he still clings to his heresy, we then can do with him as
circumstances may require." After a short time they proceeded with him to
Cannobeen, and there began to use arguments to convince him of his errors,
and persuade him to confess and forsake them, and embrace whatever the
councils and the church had enacted;--requiring that he should surrender his
conscience to the holy catholic church, and bless all whom she blessed, and
curse all whom she cursed; and this they did in the most stern and
threatening manner. He replied, "It has been said, by the mouth of the Holy
One, Bless and curse not." They still pressed him to yield his opinions, but
he said, "I can give up nothing, nor can I believe any thing but as it is
written in the holy scriptures; for in these is contained all doctrines
necessary to salvation."--"But," said they, "is every thing then, worthless,
that has been ordained by the councils and the fathers?" He answered, "The
councils may have enacted laws good for themselves, but we are not bound
to follow them."
After urging him, day after day, to no purpose, they finally asked in
despair, "Are you then still of the same sentiment?" "Of the same
sentiment," said he; "I still believe and hold whatever is written in the holy
scriptures, and neither more nor less." "Will every one, then, who reads the
gospel, be saved?" "By no means;--but as it is written, 'he that hath my
commands and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me.'" "It is the duty of
every person to possess the gospel, and read it?" "Yes, it is the duty of
every one. 'For,' said Paul, 'if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are
CHAPTER XVIII. 582
lost, in whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which
believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel should shine unto them.'"
They then reviled him, and spurned him away from their sight, and began
to meditate measures of violence against him. He was separated from all
around him, and compelled to take his meals by himself; and lest he should
attempt to escape, a person was set over him to keep him under a constant
watch. He was made to feel himself in the lowest state of disgrace, all
taking the fullest liberty to reproach and ridicule him.
One evening, when all had gone in the chapel for prayers, he lay as if he
had been asleep, and the monk, his keeper, thinking him really so, went in
with the rest, but took with him, as a precaution, Asaad's silver inkhorn,
supposing that if he should wake, and think of escaping, he would not be
willing to leave behind him so valuable an article. When Asaad saw that all
were gone, knowing the length of their prayers, he at once left the convent,
and ran about an hour's distance. People were despatched in search of him
with all diligence, but they returned without finding him. On account of his
ignorance of the way, he remained secreted near the road till the day broke,
when he continued his flight until he had reached the distance of three
hours or more from his prison, when a couple of men in the service of the
patriarch, having been apprized of his escape by the pursuers during the
night, discovered him, and called out, "Who are you? Are you Asaad?" He
replied, "I am Asaad." They at once took him into custody, and brought him
CHAPTER XVIII. 583
patriarch, who, after that, summoned him to his presence, and demanded of
him his faith. "I am a Christian, a follower of Jesus of Nazareth." Those
present exhorted him to acknowledge the intercession of the saints, and to
repair to them for help in this hour of trial. But he refused, saying, "My
help is in him who shed his blood for sinners." "But have the saints," said
they, "no intercession, and is it vain to worship them, and pray to them?"
He said, "We are not taught to seek help or protection from any, but from
him who is the Great Shepherd, who has said with his own blessed mouth,
'Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you
rest.' To any other than God, we are not commanded to pray or seek for
refuge."
They then returned him to his prison as before. Those who sympathized
with him, went and begged him to confess that the canons of the councils
were binding on all Christians, and that the images were very properly
made use of in the churches. He answered, "Professing themselves to be
wise, they became fools, and changed the glory of the incorruptible God
into an image made like unto corruptible man." At this they turned away
from him in despair and disgust, and reported to the patriarch that he was in
the most settled state of obstinacy, and was doubtless possessed of a devil.
Upon this, the patriarch ordered him to be put in chains, and the door to be
barred upon him, as formerly, and his food to be given him in short
allowance. In this condition he remained till he was much reduced, and
began to entreat them to have pity on him and take off the irons from his
feet, and open the door of his prison. Some were moved by his
supplications, interceded for him, unbarred the door, took off his chains,
and left him. He arose, walked out, and sat down with one of them and
conversed. He then begged the patriarch to give him some books to copy, to
rid himself of the tedium of his idleness. But he refused, nor would he
suffer any to hold conversation with him.
After some days, there came into the convent two men, in the character of
beggars, and wished to pass the night, but were turned away. That same
night Asaad made another attempt to escape. As soon as it was discovered
that he was gone, a vigorous search was made to find him, but all to no
CHAPTER XVIII. 586
purpose. The universal cry now was, that the two men already mentioned
had been sent by the protestants to steal him away for a large reward.
Immediately his holiness, the patriarch, sent letters to the emeer Abdallah
informing him of Asaad's escape, and requesting him to guard the roads of
the Kesroan, and search the neighbourhood, if possibly Asaad might still be
found lurking in that district. Accordingly search was made, Asaad was
discovered among his relatives by a couple of soldiers, was bound, and
taken off to the emeer, who sent him direct to the patriarch.
On his arrival, he was loaded with chains, cast into a dark, filthy room, and
bastinadoed, every day, for eight days, sometimes fainting under the
operation, until he was near death. He was then left in his misery, his bed a
thin flag mat, his covering his common clothes. The door of his prison was
filled up with stone and mortar, and his food was six thin cakes of bread a
day, and a scanty cup of water. In this loathsome dungeon, from which
there was no access but a small loop hole, through which they passed his
food, he lay for several days; and he would lift up his voice, and cry, "Love
ye the Lord Jesus Christ according as he hath loved us, and given himself to
die for us. Think of me, O ye that pass by, have pity upon me, and deliver
me from these sufferings."
Now when his groans and cries were thus heard, a certain priest, who had
been a former friend of Asaad, was touched with compassion. His former
friendship revived, his bowels yearned over his suffering brother, and he
besought every one who could speak with the patriarch, that they would
intercede and endeavour to soften his feelings towards his prisoner. By dint
of perseverance, the priest at length succeeded, and obtained permission to
open the prison door of his friend and take off his irons. The first request he
made of the priest on his entering, was, that he would give him a little food,
for he was famishing with hunger. The priest immediately brought him a
little bread and cooked victuals, which he ate, and said, "The name of the
Lord be blessed."
Those present began to exhort him to turn to the mother of God, if,
peradventure, she would have mercy upon him, and bring him back to the
way of salvation. He answered, "If she has the power of intercession, let her
CHAPTER XVIII. 587
intercede for us with her beloved Son." The priest was very assiduous in
supplying him with every thing necessary for his comfort; in particular he
obtained the return of his clothes, of which he had been partly stripped; for
the snow was upon the ground, and the cold filled him with pains.
Now when the others saw the care and attention of the priest, they said,
"You have become a convert to his heretical opinions." But he replied,
"God has said, 'Blessed are the merciful;'" and continued firm in his
purpose. His assiduity was such, that whenever he left the convent for any
time, he would give money to the cook to prevail on him to supply Asaad
with proper food, and to attend upon him in whatever he might need. The
enemies of the priest accused him to the patriarch, but they could not
succeed in their object, for the priest is of blameless morals, and has a good
name among all.
The priest now passed much of his time in company with Asaad, and
conversed with him freely. On a certain occasion they began to converse on
the subject of the cross, the priest saying it ought to be worshipped. Asaad
replied, "For what reason? and where is the use of it?" The priest said, "In
memory of the Saviour." Asaad,--"Why do you kiss the cross, and who has
commanded it?" Priest,--"We kiss it in honour of him who hung upon it."
Asaad.--"But why then do you not paint the ass also, and pay it all
obeisance, and all honours, for our Saviour, when he rode upon the ass, was
in all honour, and all paid him obeisance; but when he was on the cross, he
was in sorrow and disgrace." The priest reproved him gently for returning
such an answer, and when he saw that the priest was displeased, he said,
"On account of your love to me, and the favour you have done me, I wish
to prove to you this point, that all religious reverence and worship and
service to any but God, is vain; for it is said, 'He that heareth my word, and
believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life,' and I have to beg of
you, that you will continually search the holy scriptures, and pray as David
prayed, 'Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within
me.'" During this time, one of their enemies was standing without the door,
and listened to the whole conversation. This man went immediately, to the
patriarch, and told him all that he had heard, and that the priest was
conversing with Asaad in so gentle a manner, that he was likely soon to be
CHAPTER XVIII. 588
won over to heresy. His holiness was startled at the intelligence, and
hastening down inquired the truth of the report. Asaad concealed nothing.
The patriarch, however, at first, repressed his own feelings, and exhorted
him in the most winning manner he could assume, promising that if he
would but return to the holy church and fathers and councils, worship the
images, and saints, and the mother of God, he would again immediately
make him his secretary. He replied, "With regard to the opinions which I
hold, I assure you I wish to hold none which are opposed to the word of
God; and as to resorting to the virgin Mary, I say, as I have before said, that
if she has any power of intercession, let her intercede for us. As to giving
up my opinions to the church and councils, how can I do it, so long as I am
possessed of satisfactory evidence that these councils are opposed to one
another? We are in no need of the councils, but have sufficient light
without them to guide us in the way of salvation. Moreover I can say, that I
do surrender my opinions to the holy catholic church, for I profess the faith
of the church of Christ, and unite my conscience with it."
The patriarch could no longer restrain his feelings, but broke out in the
language of reproach, saying, "You are a worthless fellow, obstinately bent
on maintaining your folly. I give you to understand that I am clear of your
guilt. You will not be taught, but love to shew your contempt of the cross,
and of the worship of the images, whose worship is only in honour of those
to whose memory they are set up, and who laboured and died in the service
of Christ." Asaad replied, "With regard to worshipping such things as these,
it is said, 'Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou
serve;' and as to those who laboured and shed their blood for the Saviour,
they are above our honours, for they have gone to inherit unspeakable glory
in their master's presence." The patriarch was more angry than ever, and
taking off his slipper, beat both him and the priest, and drove the latter from
the room, and locked the door.
After six days of additional confinement, the friendly priest again procured
his release from his prison, and obtained the favour of taking the entire
oversight of him. In this condition the persecuted man remains. May the
Most High grant him speedy deliverance.
CHAPTER XVIII. 589
*****
The latest accounts from Palestine state that Asaad is still in confinement,
but remains firm to the principles he has embraced. In a letter from Mr.
Goodell, dated April, 1830, we find the following sentence.--"Asaad
Shidiak is still alive, and there is every reason to believe that he loves and
obeys the truth, that he is sanctified by it, rooted and grounded in it, and
ready to suffer for it." We take our leave of this interesting narrative,
commending the suffering subject of it to God, and the word of his grace,
accounting him more blessed if he perseveres steadfast unto the end, than if
his brows were endowed with an imperial diadem.
FOOTNOTES:
[E] The Papists receive these books as of equal divine authority with the
books of the Old Testament.--ED.
[F] This he actually proposed, but the patriarch would not listen to the
proposal a moment.
[G] "He causeth all--to receive a mark," &c. "and no man might buy or sell
save he that had the mark or the name of the beast." The patriarch was also
clothed in scarlet, like the woman on the scarlet coloured beast.
[I] When he first came to Beyroot, this same sentence was dictated to him,
and it appeared in his eyes so much like blasphemy, that he refused to write
it.
[K] This letter was a mere tissue of testimonies, brought from the fathers,
and from the scriptures, condemning the worship of images.
CHAPTER IX. 591
CHAPTER IX.
Mr. and Mrs. Judson were among the number of the first missionaries who
left this country for India. After labouring for some time in Hindostan they
finally established themselves at Rangoon in the Burman Empire, in 1813.
In 1824 war broke out between the British East India Company and the
emperor of Burmah. Mr. and Mrs. Judson and Dr. Price, who were at Ava,
the capital of the Burman Empire, when the war commenced, were
immediately arrested and confined for several months. The account of the
sufferings of the missionaries was written by Mrs. Judson, and is given in
her own words.
The sufferings of the missionaries, during this long and disastrous period,
surpassed all that the most alarmed and fertile imagination had conceived.
Of the dreadful scenes at Ava, a minute account was written by Mrs.
Judson to Dr. Elnathan Judson. It will be read with strong and painful
interest. Fiction itself has seldom invented a tale more replete with terror.
"I commence this letter with the intention of giving you the particulars of
our captivity and sufferings at Ava. How long my patience will allow my
reviewing scenes of disgust and horror, the conclusion of this letter will
determine. I had kept a journal of every thing that had transpired from our
arrival at Ava, but destroyed it at the commencement of our difficulties.
"On our arrival at the capital, we found that Dr. Price was out of favour at
court, and that suspicion rested on most of the foreigners then at Ava. Your
brother visited at the palace two or three times, but found the king's manner
toward him very different from what it formerly had been; and the queen,
who had hitherto expressed wishes for my speedy arrival, now made no
inquiries after me, nor intimated a wish to see me. Consequently, I made no
effort to visit at the palace, though almost daily invited to visit some of the
branches of the royal family, who were living in their own houses, out of
the palace enclosure. Under these circumstances, we thought our most
prudent course lay in prosecuting our original intention of building a house,
and commencing missionary operations as occasion offered, thus
endeavouring to convince the government that we had really nothing to do
with the present war.
"In two or three weeks after our arrival, the king, queen, all the members of
the royal family, and most of the officers of government, returned to
Amarapora, in order to come and take possession of the new palace in the
customary style. As there has been much misunderstanding relative to Ava
and Amarapora, both being called the capital of the Burmese Empire, I will
here remark, that present Ava was formerly the seat of government; but
soon after the old king had ascended the throne, it was forsaken, and a new
palace built at Amarapora, about six miles from Ava, in which he remained
during his life. In the fourth year of the reign of the present king,
Amarapora was in its turn forsaken, and a new and beautiful palace built at
Ava, which was then in ruins, but is now the capital of the Burmese
Empire, and the residence of the Emperor. The king and royal family had
been living in the temporary buildings at Ava, during the completion of the
new palace, which gave occasion for their returning to Amarapora.
CHAPTER IX. 593
"I dare not attempt a description of that splendid day, when majesty with all
its attendant glory entered the gates of the golden city, and amid the
acclamations of millions, I may say, took possession of the palace. The
saupwars of the provinces bordering on China, all the Viceroys and high
officers of the kingdom, were assembled on the occasion, dressed in their
robes of state, and ornamented with the insignia of their office. The white
elephant, richly adorned with gold and jewels, was one of the most
beautiful objects in the procession. The king and queen alone were
unadorned, dressed in the simple garb of the country; they, hand in hand,
entered the garden in which we had taken our seats, and where a banquet
was prepared for their refreshment. All the riches and glory of the empire
were on this day exhibited to view. The number and immense size of the
elephants, the numerous horses, and great variety of vehicles of all
descriptions, far surpassed any thing I have ever seen or imagined. Soon
after his majesty had taken possession of the new palace, an order was
issued that no foreigner should be allowed to enter, excepting Lansago. We
were a little alarmed at this, but concluded it was from political motives,
and would not, perhaps, essentially affect us.
"For several weeks nothing took place to alarm us, and we went on with our
school. Mr. J. preached every Sabbath, all the materials for building a brick
house were procured, and the masons had made considerable progress in
raising the building.
"On the 23d of May, 1824, just as we had concluded worship at the
Doctor's house, the other side of the river, a messenger came to inform us
that Rangoon was taken by the English. The intelligence produced a shock,
in which was a mixture of fear and joy. Mr. Gouger, a young merchant
residing at Ava, was then with us, and had much more reason to fear than
the rest of us. We all, however, immediately returned to our house, and
began to consider what was to be done. Mr. G. went to prince
Thar-yar-wa-dee, the king's most influential brother, who informed him he
need not give himself any uneasiness, as he had mentioned the subject to
his majesty, who had replied, that 'the few foreigners residing at Ava, had
nothing to do with the war, and should not be molested.'
CHAPTER IX. 594
"As soon as the army were despatched, the government began to inquire the
cause of the arrival of the strangers at Rangoon. There must be spies in the
country, suggested some, who have invited them over. And who so likely to
be spies, as the Englishmen residing at Ava? A report was in circulation,
that Captain Laird, lately arrived, had brought Bengal papers which
contained the intention of the English to take Rangoon, and it was kept a
secret from his Majesty. An inquiry was instituted. The three Englishmen,
Gouger, Laird, and Rogers, were called and examined. It was found they
had seen the papers, and were put in confinement, though not in prison. We
now began to tremble for ourselves, and were in daily expectation of some
dreadful event.
"At length Mr. Judson and Dr. Price were summoned to a court of
examination, where strict inquiry was made relative to all they knew. The
great point seemed to be whether they had been in the habit of making
communications to foreigners, of the state of the country, &c. They
answered, they had always written to their friends in America, but had no
correspondence with English officers, or the Bengal government. After
their examination, they were not put in confinement as the Englishmen had
CHAPTER IX. 595
been, but were allowed to return to their houses. In examining the accounts
of Mr. G. it was found that Mr. J. and Dr. Price had taken money of him to
a considerable amount. Ignorant, as were the Burmese, of our mode of
receiving money, by orders on Bengal, this circumstance, to their
suspicious minds, was a sufficient evidence, that the missionaries were in
the pay of the English, and very probably spies. It was thus represented to
the king, who, in an angry tone, ordered the immediate arrest of the 'two
teachers.'
"On the 8th of June, just as we were preparing for dinner, in rushed an
officer, holding a black book, with a dozen Burmans, accompanied by one,
whom, from his spotted face, we knew to be an executioner, and a 'son of
the prison.' 'Where is the teacher?' was the first inquiry. Mr. Judson
presented himself. 'You are called by the king,' said the officer; a form of
speech always used when about to arrest a criminal. The spotted man
instantly seized Mr. Judson, threw him on the floor, and produced the small
cord, the instrument of torture. I caught hold of his arm; 'Stay, (said I,) I
will give you money.' 'Take her too,' said the officer; 'she also is a
foreigner.' Mr. Judson, with an imploring look, begged they would let me
remain till further orders. The scene was now shocking beyond description.
The whole neighbourhood had collected--the masons at work on the brick
house threw down their tools, and ran--the little Burman children were
screaming and crying--the Bengalee servants stood in amazement at the
indignities offered their master--and the hardened executioner, with a
hellish joy, drew tight the cords, bound Mr. Judson fast, and dragged him
off, I knew not whither. In vain I begged and entreated the spotted face to
take the silver, and loosen the ropes, but he spurned my offers, and
immediately departed. I gave the money, however, to Moung Ing to follow
after, to make some further attempt to mitigate the torture of Mr. Judson;
but instead of succeeding, when a few rods from the house, the unfeeling
wretches again threw their prisoner on the ground, and drew the cords still
tighter, so as almost to prevent respiration.
"The officer and his gang proceeded on to the court house, where the
Governor of the city and officers were collected, one of whom read the
order of the king, to commit Mr. Judson to the death prison, into which he
CHAPTER IX. 596
was soon hurled, the door closed--and Moung Ing saw no more. What a
night was now before me! I retired into my room, and endeavoured to
obtain consolation from committing my case to God, and imploring
fortitude and strength to suffer whatever awaited me. But the consolation of
retirement was not long allowed me, for the magistrate of the place had
come into the verandah, and continually called me to come out, and submit
to his examination. But previously to going out, I destroyed all my letters,
journals, and writings of every kind, lest they should disclose the fact that
we had correspondents in England, and had minuted down every
occurrence since our arrival in the country. When this work of destruction
was finished, I went out and submitted to the examination of the magistrate,
who inquired very minutely of everything I knew; then ordered the gates of
the compound to be shut, no person be allowed to go in or out, placed a
guard of ten ruffians, to whom he gave a strict charge to keep me safe, and
departed.
"It was now dark. I retired to an inner room with my four little Burman
girls, and barred the doors. The guard instantly ordered me to unbar the
doors and come out, or they would break the house down. I obstinately
refused to obey, and endeavoured to intimidate them by threatening to
complain of their conduct to higher authorities on the morrow. Finding me
resolved in disregarding their orders, they took the two Bengalee servants,
and confined them in the stocks in a very painful position. I could not
endure this; but called the head man to the window, and promised to make
them all a present in the morning, if they would release the servants. After
much debate, and many severe threatenings, they consented, but seemed
resolved to annoy me as much as possible. My unprotected, desolate state,
my entire uncertainty of the fate of Mr. Judson, and the dreadful carousings
and almost diabolical language of the guard, all conspired to make it by far
the most distressing night I had ever passed. You may well imagine, my
dear brother, that sleep was a stranger to my eyes, and peace and
composure to my mind.
"The next morning, I sent Moung Ing to ascertain the situation of your
brother, and give him food, if still living. He soon returned, with the
intelligence, that Mr. Judson, and all the white foreigners, were confined in
CHAPTER IX. 597
the death prison, with three pairs of iron fetters each, and fastened to a long
pole, to prevent their moving! The point of my anguish now was, that I was
a prisoner myself, and could make no efforts for the release of the
Missionaries. I begged and entreated the magistrate to allow me to go to
some member of government to state my case; but he said he did not dare
to consent, for fear I should make my escape. I next wrote a note to one of
the king's sisters, with whom I had been intimate, requesting her to use her
influence for the release of the teachers. The note was returned with this
message--She 'did not understand it,'--which was a polite refusal to
interfere; though I afterwards ascertained, that she had an anxious desire to
assist us, but dared not on account of the queen. The day dragged heavily
away, and another dreadful night was before me. I endeavoured to soften
the feelings of the guard by giving them tea and segars for the night; so that
they allowed me to remain inside of my room, without threatening as they
did the night before. But the idea of your brother being stretched on the
bare floor in irons and confinement, haunted my mind like a spectre, and
prevented my obtaining any quiet sleep, though nature was almost
exhausted.
"On the third day, I sent a message to the governor of the city, who has the
entire direction of prison affairs, to allow me to visit him with a present.
This had the desired effect; and he immediately sent orders to the guards, to
permit my going into town. The governor received me pleasantly, and
asked me what I wanted. I stated to him the situation of the foreigners, and
particularly that of the teachers, who were Americans, and had nothing to
do with the war. He told me it was not in his power to release them from
prison or irons, but that he could make their situation more comfortable;
there was his head officer, with whom I must consult, relative to the means.
The officer, who proved to be one of the city writers, and whose
countenance at the first glance presented the most perfect assemblage of all
the evil passions attached to human nature, took me aside, and endeavoured
to convince me, that myself, as well as the prisoners, was entirely at his
disposal--that our future comfort must depend on my liberality in regard to
presents--and that these must be made in a private way and unknown to any
officer in the government! What must I do, said I, to obtain a mitigation of
the present sufferings of the two teachers? 'Pay to me,' said he, 'two
CHAPTER IX. 598
hundred tickals, (about a hundred dollars,) two pieces of fine cloth, and two
pieces of handkerchiefs.' I had taken money with me in the morning, our
house being two miles from the prison--I could not easily return. This I
offered to the writer, and begged he would not insist on the other articles,
as they were not in my possession. He hesitated for some time, but fearing
to lose the sight of so much money, he concluded to take it, promising to
relieve the teachers from their most painful situation.
"I then procured an order from the governor, for my admittance into prison;
but the sensations, produced by meeting your brother in that wretched,
horrid situation, and the affecting scene which ensued, I will not attempt to
describe. Mr. Judson crawled to the door of the prison--for I was never
allowed to enter--gave me some directions relative to his release; but before
we could make any arrangement, I was ordered to depart, by those iron
hearted jailers, who could not endure to see us enjoy the poor consolation
of meeting in that miserable place. In vain I pleaded the order of the
governor for my admittance; they again, harshly repeated, 'Depart, or we
will pull you out.' The same evening, the missionaries, together with the
other foreigners, who had paid an equal sum, were taken out of the
common prison, and confined in an open shed in the prison enclosure. Here
I was allowed to send them food, and mats to sleep on; but was not
permitted to enter again for several days.
"My next object was to get a petition presented to the queen; but no person
being admitted into the palace, who was in disgrace with his Majesty, I
sought to present it through the medium of her brother's wife. I had visited
her in better days, and received particular marks of her favour. But now
times were altered: Mr. Judson was in prison, and I in distress, which was a
sufficient reason for giving me a cold reception. I took a present of
considerable value. She was lolling on her carpet as I entered, with her
attendants around her. I waited not for the usual question to a suppliant,
'What do you want?' but in a hold, earnest, yet respectful manner, stated our
distresses and our wrongs, and begged her assistance. She partly raised her
head, opened the present I had brought, and coolly replied, 'Your case is not
singular; all the foreigners are treated alike.' 'But it is singular,' said I, 'the
teachers are Americans; they are ministers of religion, have nothing to do
CHAPTER IX. 599
with war or politics, and came to Ava in obedience to the king's command.
They have never done any thing to deserve such treatment; and is it right
they should be treated thus?' 'The king does as he pleases,' said she; 'I am
not the king, what can I do?' 'You can state their case to the queen, and
obtain their release,' replied I. 'Place yourself in my situation,--were you in
America, your husband, innocent of crime, thrown into prison, in irons, and
you a solitary, unprotected female--what would you do?' With a slight
degree of feeling, she said, 'I will present your petition,--come again
to-morrow.' I returned to the house, with considerable hope, that the speedy
release of the missionaries was at hand. But the next day Mr. Gouger's
property, to the amount of fifty thousand dollars, was taken and carried to
the palace. The officers, on their return, politely informed me, they should
visit our house on the morrow. I felt obliged for this information, and
accordingly made preparations to receive them, by secreting as many little
articles as possible; together with considerable silver, as I knew, if the war
should be protracted, we should be in a state of starvation without it. But
my mind was in a dreadful state of agitation, lest it should be discovered,
and cause my being thrown into prison. And had it been possible to procure
money from any other quarter, I should not have ventured on such a step.
name of a priest's dwelling) and for our support while teaching the religion
of Christ. Is it suitable that you should take it? (The Burmans are averse to
taking what is offered in a religious point of view, which was the cause of
my making the inquiry.) 'We will state this circumstance to the king,' said
one of them, 'and perhaps he will restore it. But this is all the silver you
have?' I could not tell a falsehood: 'The house is in your possession,' I
replied, 'search for yourselves.' 'Have you not deposited silver with some
person of your acquaintance?' 'My acquaintances are all in prison, with
whom should I deposit silver? They next ordered my trunk and drawers to
be examined. The secretary only was allowed to accompany me in this
search. Everything nice or curious, which met his view, was presented to
the officers, for their decision, whether it should be taken or retained. I
begged they would not take our wearing apparel, as it would be disgraceful
to take clothes partly worn, into the possession of his majesty, and to us
they were of unspeakable value. They assented, and took a list only, and
did the same with the books, medicines, &c. My little work table and
rocking chair, presents from my beloved brother, I rescued from their grasp,
partly by artifice, and partly through their ignorance. They left also many
articles, which were of inestimable value, during our long imprisonment.
"As soon as they had finished their search and departed, I hastened to the
queen's brother, to hear what had been the fate of my petition; when, alas!
all my hopes were dashed, by his wife's coolly saying, 'I stated your case to
the queen; but her majesty replied,--'The teachers will not die: let them
remain as they are.' My expectations had been so much excited, that this
sentence was like a thunderbolt to my feelings. For the truth at one glance
assured me, that if the queen refused assistance, who would dare to
intercede for me? With a heavy heart I departed, and on my way home,
attempted to enter the prison gate, to communicate the sad tidings to your
brother but was harshly refused admittance: and for the ten days following
notwithstanding my daily efforts, I was not allowed to enter. We attempted
to communicate by writing, and after being successful for a few days, it
was discovered; the poor fellow who carried the communications was
beaten and put in the stocks; and the circumstance cost me about ten
dollars, besides two or three days of agony, for fear of the consequences.
CHAPTER IX. 601
"The officers who had taken possession of our property, presented it to his
majesty, saying, 'Judson is a true teacher; we found nothing in his house,
but what belongs to priests. In addition to this money, there are an immense
number of books, medicines, trunks of wearing apparel, &c. of which we
have only taken a list. Shall we take them, or let them remain?' 'Let them
remain,' said the king, 'and put this property by itself, for it shall be restored
to him again, if he is found innocent.' This was an allusion to the idea of his
being a spy.
"About this period, I was one day summoned to the Tlowtdan, in an official
way. What new evil was before me, I knew not, but was obliged to go.
When arrived, I was allowed to stand at the bottom of the stairs, as no
female is permitted to ascend the steps, or even to stand, but sit on the
ground. Hundreds were collected around. The officer who presided, in an
authoritative voice, began; 'Speak the truth in answer to the questions I
shall ask. If you speak true, no evil will follow; but if not, your life will not
be spared. It is reported that you have committed to the care of a Burmese
officer, a string of pearls, a pair of diamond ear-rings, and a silver tea-pot.
Is it true? 'It is not,' I replied; 'and if you or any other person can produce
these articles, I refuse not to die.' The officer again urged the necessity of
'speaking true.' I told him I had nothing more to say on this subject, but
begged he would use his influence to obtain the release of Mr. Judson from
prison.
"I returned to the house, with a heart much lighter than I went, though
conscious of my perpetual exposure to such harassments. Notwithstanding
the repulse I had met in my application to the queen, I could not remain
without making continual effort for your brother's release, while there was
the least probability of success. Time after time my visits to the queen's
sister-in-law were repeated, till she refused to answer a question, and told
me by her looks, I had better keep out of her presence. For the seven
following months, hardly a day passed, that I did not visit some one of the
members of government, or branches of the royal family, in order to gain
their influence in our behalf; but the only benefit resulting was, their
encouraging promises preserved us from despair, and induced a hope of the
speedy termination of our difficulties, which enabled us to bear our
distresses better than we otherwise should have done. I ought, however, to
mention, that by my repeated visits to the different members of
government, I gained several friends, who were ready to assist me with
articles of food, though in a private manner, and who used their influence in
the palace to destroy the impression of our being in any way engaged in the
present war. But no one dared to speak a word to the king or queen in favor
CHAPTER IX. 603
of a foreigner, while there were such continual reports of the success of the
English arms.
"The war was now prosecuted with all the energy the Burmese government
possessed. New troops were continually raised and sent down the river, and
CHAPTER IX. 604
as frequent reports returned of their being all cut off. But that part of the
Burmese army stationed at Arracan, under the command of Bandoola, had
been more successful. Three hundred prisoners, at one time, was sent to the
capital, as an evidence of the victory that had been gained. The king began
to think that none but Bandoola understood the art of fighting with
foreigners; consequently his majesty recalled him with the design of his
taking command of the army that had been sent to Rangoon. On his arrival
at Ava, he was received at court in the most flattering manner, and was the
recipient of every favour in the power of the king and queen to bestow. He
was, in fact, while at Ava, the acting king. I was resolved to apply to him
for the release of the missionaries, though some members of government
advised me not, lest he, being reminded of their existence, should issue an
immediate order for their execution. But it was my last hope, and as it
proved, my last application.
"Thus again were all our hopes dashed; and we felt that we could do
nothing more, but sit down and submit to our lot. From this time we gave
up all idea of being released from prison, till the termination of the war; but
CHAPTER IX. 605
"I should have mentioned before this, the defeat of Bandoola, his escape to
Danooboo, the complete destruction of his army and loss of ammunition,
and the consternation this intelligence produced at court. The English army
had left Rangoon, and were advancing towards Prome, when these severe
measures were taken with the prisoners.
"I went immediately to the governor's house. He was not at home, but had
ordered his wife to tell me, when I came, not to ask to have the additional
fetters taken off, or the prisoners released, for it could not be done. I went
to the prison gate, but was forbid to enter. All was as still as death--not a
white face to be seen, or a vestige of Mr. J.'s little room remaining. I was
determined to see the governor and know the cause of this additional
CHAPTER IX. 606
oppression; and for this purpose returned to town the same evening, at an
hour I knew he would be at home. He was in his audience room, and, as I
entered, looked up without speaking, but exhibited a mixture of shame and
affected anger in his countenance. I began by saying--Your Lordship has
hitherto treated us with the kindness of a father. Our obligations to you are
very great. We have looked to you for protection from oppression and
cruelty. You have in many instances mitigated the sufferings of those
unfortunate, though innocent beings, committed to your charge. You have
promised me particularly, that you would stand by me to the last, and
though you should receive an order from the king, you would not put Mr. J.
to death. What crime has he committed to deserve such additional
punishment? The old man's hard heart was melted, for he wept like a child.
'I pity you, Tsa-yar-ga-dau, (a name by which he always called me) I knew
you would make me feel; I therefore forbade your application. But you
must believe me when I say, I do not wish to increase the sufferings of the
prisoners. When I am ordered to execute them, the least that I can do is, to
put them out of sight. I will now tell you (continued he) what I have never
told you before, that three times I have received intimations from the
queen's brother, to assassinate all the white prisoners privately; but I would
not do it. And I now repeat it, though I execute all the others, I will never
execute your husband. But I cannot release him from his present
confinement, and you must not ask it.' I had never seen him manifest so
much feeling, or so resolute in denying me a favour, which circumstance
was an additional reason for thinking dreadful scenes were before us.
"It was at this period that the death of Bandoola was announced in the
palace. The king heard it with silent amazement, and the queen, in eastern
style, smote upon her breast, and cried, ama! ama! (alas, alas.) Who could
be found to fill his place? who would venture since the invincible Bandoola
had been cut off? Such were the exclamations constantly heard in the
streets of Ava. The common people were speaking low of a rebellion, in
case more troops should be levied. For as yet the common people had borne
the weight of the war, not a tickal had been taken from the royal treasury.
At length the Pakan Woon, who a few months before had been so far
disgraced by the king as to be thrown into prison and irons, now offered
himself to head a new army that should be raised on a different plan from
those which had been hitherto raised; and assured the king in the most
confident manner, that he would conquer the English, and restore those
places that had been taken, in a very short time. He proposed that every
soldier should receive a hundred tickals in advance, and he would obtain
security for each man, as the money was to pass through his hands. It was
afterwards found that he had taken, for his own use, ten tickals from every
hundred. He was a man of enterprise and talents, though a violent enemy to
all foreigners. His offers were accepted by the king and government, and all
power immediately committed to him. One of the first exercises of his
power was, to arrest Lansago and the Portuguese priest, who had hitherto
remained unmolested, and cast them into prison, and to subject the native
Portuguese and Bengalees to the most menial occupations. The whole town
was in alarm, lest they should feel the effects of his power; and it was
owing to the malignant representations of this man, that the white prisoners
suffered such a change in their circumstances, as I shall soon relate.
"After continuing in the inner prison for more than a month, your brother
was taken with a fever. I felt assured he would not live long, unless
removed from that noisome place. To effect this, and in order to be near the
prison, I removed from our house and put up a small bamboo room in the
governor's enclosure, which was nearly opposite the prison gate. Here I
incessantly begged the governor to give me an order to take Mr. J. out of
the large prison, and place him in a more comfortable situation; and the old
man, being worn out with my entreaties, at length gave me the order in an
official form; and also gave orders to the head jailer, to allow me to go in
CHAPTER IX. 608
and out, all times of the day, to administer medicines, &c. I now felt happy
indeed, and had Mr. J. instantly removed into a little bamboo hovel, so low,
that neither of us could stand upright--but a palace in comparison with the
place he had left.
"Notwithstanding the order the governor had given for my admittance into
prison, it was with the greatest difficulty that I could persuade the under
jailer to open the gate. I used to carry Mr. J's. food myself, for the sake of
getting in, and would then remain an hour or two, unless driven out. We
had been in this comfortable situation but two or three days, when one
morning, having carried in Mr. Judson's breakfast, which, in consequence
of fever, he was unable to take, I remained longer than usual, when the
governor in great haste sent for me. I promised him to return as soon as I
had ascertained the governor's will, he being much alarmed at this unusual
message. I was very agreeably disappointed, when the governor informed,
that he only wished to consult me about his watch, and seemed unusually
pleasant and conversable. I found afterwards, that his only object was, to
detain me until the dreadful scene, about to take place in the prison, was
over. For when I left him to go to my room, one of the servants came
running, and with a ghastly countenance informed me, that all the white
prisoners were carried away. I would not believe the report, but instantly
went back to the governor, who said he had just heard of it, but did not
wish to tell me. I hastily ran into the street, hoping to get a glimpse of them
before they were out of sight, but in this was disappointed. I ran first into
one street, then another, inquiring of all I met, but none would answer me.
At length an old woman told me the white prisoners had gone towards the
little river; for they were to be carried to Amarapora. I then ran to the banks
of the little river, about half a mile, but saw them not, and concluded the
old woman had deceived me. Some of the friends of the foreigners went to
the place of execution, but found them not. I then returned to the governor
to try to discover the cause of their removal, and the probability of their
future fate. The old man assured me that he was ignorant of the intention of
government to remove the foreigners till that morning. That since I went
out, he had learned that the prisoners were to be sent to Amarapora; but for
CHAPTER IX. 609
what purpose, he knew not. 'I will send off a man immediately,' said he, 'to
see what is to be done with them. You can do nothing more for your
husband,' continued he, 'take care of yourself.' With a heavy heart I went to
my room, and having no hope to excite me to exertion, I sunk down almost
in despair. For several days previous, I had been actively engaged in
building my own little room, and making our hovel comfortable. My
thoughts had been almost entirely occupied in contriving means to get into
prison. But now I looked towards the gate with a kind of melancholy
feeling, but no wish to enter. All was the stillness of death; no preparation
of your brother's food, no expectation of meeting him at the usual dinner
hour, all my employment, all my occupations seemed to have ceased, and I
had nothing left but the dreadful recollection that Mr. Judson was carried
off, I knew not whither. It was one of the most insupportable days I ever
passed. Towards night, however, I came to the determination to set off the
next morning for Amarapora; and for this purpose was obliged to go to our
house out of town.
"Never before had I suffered so much from fear in traversing the streets of
Ava. The last words of the governor, 'Take care of yourself,' made me
suspect there was some design with which I was unacquainted. I saw, also,
he was afraid to have me go into the streets, and advised me to wait till
dark, when he would send me in a cart, and a man to open the gates. I took
two or three trunks of the most valuable articles, together with the medicine
chest, to deposit in the house of the governor; and after committing the
house and premises to our faithful Moung Ing and a Bengalee servant, who
continued with us, (though we were unable to pay his wages,) I took leave,
as I then thought probable, of our house in Ava forever.
Mary and Abby Hasseltine, (two of the Burman children) and our Bengalee
cook, who was the only one of the party who could afford me any
assistance, I set off for Amarapora. The day was dreadfully hot; but we
obtained a covered boat, in which we were tolerably comfortable, till within
two miles of the government house. I then procured a cart; but the violent
motion, together with the dreadful heat and dust; made me almost
distracted. But what was my disappointment on my arriving at the court
house, to find that the prisoners had been sent on two hours before, and that
I must go in that uncomfortable mode four miles further with little Maria in
my arms, whom I held all the way from Ava. The cart man refused to go
any further; and after waiting an hour in the burning sun, I procured
another, and set off for that never to be forgotten place, Oung-pen-la. I
obtained a guide from the governor and was conducted directly to the
prison-yard. But what a scene of wretchedness was presented to my view!
The prison was an old shattered building, without a roof; the fence was
entirely destroyed; eight or ten Burmese were on the top of the building,
trying to make something like a shelter with the leaves; while under a little
low projection outside of the prison sat the foreigners, chained together two
and two, almost dead with suffering and fatigue. The first words of your
brother were, 'Why have you come? I hoped you would not follow, for you
cannot live here.' It was now dark. I had no refreshment for the suffering
prisoners, or for myself, as I had expected to procure all that was necessary
at the market of Amarapora, and I had no shelter for the night. I asked one
of the jailers if I might put up a little bamboo house near the prisoners; he
said no, it was not customary. I then begged he would procure me a shelter
for the night, when on the morrow I could find some place to live in. He
took me to his house, in which there were only two small rooms--one in
which he and his family lived--the other, which was then half full of grain,
he offered to me; and in that little filthy place, I spent the next six months
of wretchedness. I procured some half boiled water, instead of my tea, and,
worn out with fatigue, laid myself down on a mat spread over the paddy,
and endeavoured to obtain a little refreshment from sleep. The next
morning your brother gave me the following account of the brutal treatment
he had received on being taken out of prison.
CHAPTER IX. 611
"As soon as I had gone out at the call of the governor, one of the jailers
rushed into Mr. J's little room--roughly seized him by the arm--pulled him
out--stripped him of all his clothes, excepting shirt and pantaloons--took his
shoes, hat, and all his bedding--tore off his chains--tied a rope round his
waist, and dragged him to the court house, where the other prisoners had
previously been taken. They were then tied two and two, and delivered into
the hands of the Lamine Woon, who went on before them on horseback,
while his slaves drove the prisoners, one of the slaves holding the rope
which connected two of them together. It was in May, one of the hottest
months in the year, and eleven o'clock in the day, so that the sun was
intolerable indeed. They had proceeded only half a mile, when your
brother's feet became blistered, and so great was his agony, even at this
early period, that as they were crossing the little river, he longed to throw
himself into the water to be free from misery. But the sin attached to such
an act alone prevented. They had then eight miles to walk. The sand and
gravel were like burning coals to the feet of the prisoners, which soon
became perfectly destitute of skin; and in this wretched state they were
goaded on by their unfeeling drivers. Mr. J.'s debilitated state, in
consequence of fever, and having taken no food that morning, rendered him
less capable of bearing such hardships than the other prisoners. When about
half way on their journey, as they stopped for water, your brother begged
the Lamine Woon to allow him to ride his horse a mile or two, as he could
proceed no farther in that dreadful state. But a scornful, malignant look,
was all the reply that was made. He then requested captain Laird, who was
tied with him, and who was a strong, healthy man, to allow him to take
hold of his shoulder, as he was fast sinking. This the kind-hearted man
granted for a mile or two, but then found the additional burden
insupportable. Just at that period, Mr. Gouger's Bengalee servant came up
to them, and seeing the distresses of your brother, took off his head dress,
which was made of cloth, tore it in two, gave half to his master, and half to
Mr. Judson, which he instantly wrapt round his wounded feet, as they were
not allowed to rest even for a moment. The servant then offered his
shoulder to Mr. J. and was almost carried by him the remainder of the way.
Had it not been for the support and assistance of this man, your brother
thinks he should have shared the fate of the poor Greek, who was one of
their number, and when taken out of prison that morning was in perfect
CHAPTER IX. 612
health. But he was a corpulent man, and the sun affected him so much that
he fell down on the way. His inhuman drivers beat and dragged him until
they themselves were wearied, when they procured a cart, in which he was
carried the remaining two miles. But the poor creature expired in an hour or
two after their arrival at the court house. The Lamine Woon seeing the
distressing state of the prisoners, and that one of their number was dead,
concluded they should go no farther that night, otherwise they would have
been driven on until they reached Oung-pen-la the same day. An old shed
was appointed for their abode during the night, but without even a mat or
pillow, or any thing to cover them. The curiosity of the Lamine Woon's
wife, induced her to make a visit to the prisoners, whose wretchedness
considerably excited her compassion, and she ordered some fruit, sugar,
and tamarinds, for their refreshment; and the next morning rice was
prepared for them, and as poor as it was, it was refreshing to the prisoners,
who had been almost destitute of food the day before. Carts were also
provided for their conveyance, as none of them were able to walk. All this
time the foreigners were entirely ignorant of what was to become of them;
and when they arrived at Oung-pen-la, and saw the dilapidated state of the
prison, they immediately, all as one, concluded that they were there to be
burnt, agreeably to the report which had previously been in circulation at
Ava. They all endeavoured to prepare themselves for the awful scene
anticipated, and it was not until they saw preparations making for repairing
the prison, that they had the least doubt that a cruel lingering death awaited
them. My arrival was in an hour or two after this.
"The next morning I arose and endeavoured to find something like food.
But there was no market, and nothing to be procured. One of Dr. Price's
friends, however, brought some cold rice and vegetable curry, from
Amarapora, which, together with a cup of tea from Mr. Lansago, answered
for the breakfast of the prisoners; and for dinner, we made a curry of dried
salt fish, which a servant of Mr. Gouger had brought. All the money I could
command in the world, I had brought with me, secreted about my person;
so you may judge what our prospects were, in case the war should continue
long. But our heavenly Father was better to us than our fears; for
notwithstanding the constant extortions of the jailers, during the whole six
months we were at Oung-pen-la, and the frequent straits to which we were
CHAPTER IX. 613
brought, we never really suffered for the want of money, though frequently
for want of provisions, which were not procurable. Here at this place my
personal bodily sufferings commenced. While your brother was confined in
the city prison, I had been allowed to remain in our house, in which I had
many conveniences left, and my health continued good beyond all
expectations. But now I had not a single article of convenience--not even a
chair or seat of any kind, excepting a bamboo floor. The very morning after
my arrival, Mary Hasseltine was taken with the small pox, the natural way.
She, though very young, was the only assistant I had in taking care of little
Maria. But she now required all the time I could spare from Mr. Judson,
whose fever still continued in prison, and whose feet were so dreadfully
mangled, that for several days he was unable to move. I knew not what to
do, for I could procure no assistance from the neighbourhood, or medicine
for the sufferers, but was all day long going backwards and forwards from
the house to the prison, with little Maria in my arms. Sometimes I was
greatly relieved by leaving her, for an hour, when asleep, by the side of her
father, while I returned to the house to look after Mary, whose fever ran so
high as to produce delirium. She was so completely covered with the small
pox, that there was no distinction in the pustules. As she was in the same
little room with myself, I knew Maria would take it; I therefore inoculated
her from another child, before Mary's had arrived at such a state as to be
infectious. At the same time, I inoculated Abby, and the jailer's children,
who all had it so lightly as hardly to interrupt their play. But the inoculation
in the arm of my poor little Maria did not take--she caught it of Mary, and
had it the natural way. She was then only three months and a half old, and
had been a most healthy child; but it was above three months before she
perfectly recovered from the effects of this dreadful disorder.
"You will recollect I never had the small pox, but was vaccinated
previously to leaving America. In consequence of being for so long a time
constantly exposed, I had nearly a hundred pustules formed, though no
previous symptoms of fever, &c. The jailer's children having had the small
pox so lightly, in consequence of inoculation, my fame was spread all over
the village, and every child, young and old, who had not previously had it,
was brought for inoculation. And although I knew nothing about the
disorder, or the mode of treating it, I inoculated them all with a needle, and
CHAPTER IX. 614
told them to take care of their diet,--all the instructions I could give them.
Mr. Judson's health was gradually restored, and he found himself much
more comfortably situated, than when in the city prison.
"The prisoners were at first chained two and two; but as soon as the jailers
could obtain chains sufficient, they were separated, and each prisoner had
but one pair. The prison was repaired, a new fence made, and a large airy
shed erected in front of the prison, where the prisoners were allowed to
remain during the day, though locked up in the little close prison at night.
All the children recovered from the small pox; but my watchings and
fatigue, together with my miserable food, and more miserable lodgings,
brought on one of the diseases of the country, which is almost always fatal
to foreigners. My constitution seemed destroyed, and in a few days I
became so weak as to be hardly able to walk to Mr. Judson's prison. In this
debilitated state, I set off in a cart for Ava, to procure medicines, and some
suitable food, leaving the cook to supply my place. I reached the house in
safety, and for two or three days the disorder seemed at a stand; after which
it attacked me so violently, that I had no hopes of recovery left--and my
only anxiety now was, to return to Oung-pen-la to die near the prison. It
was with the greatest difficulty that I obtained the medicine chest from the
governor, and then had no one to administer medicine. I however got at the
laudanum, and by taking two drops at a time for several hours, it so far
checked the disorder, as to enable me to get on board a boat, though so
weak that I could not stand, and again set off for Oung-pen-la. The last four
miles was in that painful conveyance, the cart, and in the midst of the rainy
season, when the mud almost buries the oxen. You may form some idea of
a Burmese cart, when I tell you their wheels are not constructed like ours;
but are simply round thick planks with a hole in the middle, through which
a pole that supports the body is thrust.
myself, or look after Mr. Judson, we must both have died, had it not been
for the faithful and affectionate care of our Bengalee cook. A common
Bengalee cook will do nothing but the simple business of cooking: But he
seemed to forget his cast, and almost his own wants, in his efforts to serve
us. He would provide, cook, and carry your brother's food, and then return
and take care of me. I have frequently known him not to taste of food till
near night, in consequence of having to go so far for wood and water, and
in order to have Mr. Judson's dinner ready at the usual hour. He never
complained, never asked for his wages, and never for a moment hesitated to
go any where, or to perform any act we required. I take great pleasure in
speaking of the faithful conduct of this servant, who is still with us, and I
trust has been well rewarded for his services.
"Our dear little Maria was the greatest sufferer at this time, my illness
depriving her of her usual nourishment, and neither a nurse nor a drop of
milk could be procured in the village. By making presents to the jailers, I
obtained leave for Mr. Judson to come out of prison, and take the emaciated
creature around the village, to beg a little nourishment from those mothers
who had young children. Her cries in the night were heart-rending, when it
was impossible to supply her wants. I now began to think the very
afflictions of Job had come upon me. When in health, I could bear the
various trials and vicissitudes through which I was called to pass. But to be
confined with sickness, and unable to assist those who were so dear to me,
when in distress, was almost too much for me to bear; and had it not been
for the consolations of religion, and an assured conviction that every
additional trial was ordered by infinite love and mercy, I must have sunk
under my accumulated sufferings. Sometimes our jailers seemed a little
softened at our distress, and for several days together allowed Mr. Judson
to come to the house, which was to me an unspeakable consolation. Then
again they would be as iron-hearted in their demands, as though we were
free from sufferings, and in affluent circumstances. The annoyance, the
extortions, and oppressions, to which we were subject, during our six
months residence in Oung-pen-la, are beyond enumeration or description.
"It was some time after our arrival at Oung-pen-la, that we heard of the
execution of the Pakan Woon, in consequence of which our lives were still
CHAPTER IX. 616
"The time at length arrived for our release from that detested place, the
Oung-pen-la prison. A messenger from our friend, the governor of the north
gate of the palace, who was formerly Koung-tone, Myoo-tsa, informed us
that an order had been given, the evening before, in the palace, for Mr.
Judson's release. On the same evening an official order arrived; and with a
joyful heart I set about preparing for our departure early the following
morning. But an unexpected obstacle occurred, which made us fear that I
should still be retained as a prisoner. The avaricious jailers, unwilling to
lose their prey, insisted, that as my name was not included in the order, I
should not go. In vain I urged that I was not sent there as a prisoner, and
that they had no authority over me--they still determined I should not go,
and forbade the villagers from letting me a cart. Mr. Judson was then taken
out of prison, and brought to the jailer's house, where, by promises and
threatenings, he finally gained their consent, on condition that we would
CHAPTER IX. 617
leave the remaining part of our provisions we had recently received from
Ava. It was noon before we were allowed to depart. When we reached
Amarapora, Mr. Judson was obliged to follow the guidance of the jailer,
who conducted him to the governor of the city. Having made all necessary
inquiries, the governor appointed another guard, which conveyed Mr.
Judson to the court-house in Ava, to which place he arrived some time in
the night. I took my own course, procured a boat, and reached our house
before dark.
"My first object the next morning, was to go in search of your brother, and I
had the mortification to meet him again in prison, though not the death
prison. I went immediately to my old friend the governor of the city, who
now was raised to the rank of a Woongyee. He informed me that Mr.
Judson was to be sent to the Burmese camp, to act as translator and
interpreter; and that he was put in confinement for a short time only, till his
affairs were settled. Early the following morning I went to this officer
again, who told me that Mr. Judson had that moment received twenty
tickals from government, with orders to go immediately on board a boat for
Maloun, and that he had given him permission to stop a few moments at the
house, it being on his way. I hastened back to the house, where Mr. Judson
soon arrived; but was allowed to remain only a short time, while I could
prepare food and clothing for future use. He was crowded into a little boat,
where he had not room sufficient to lie down, and where his exposure to the
cold damp nights threw him into a violent fever, which had nearly ended all
his sufferings. He arrived at Maloun on the third day, where, ill as he was,
he was obliged to enter immediately on the work of translating. He
remained at Maloun six weeks, suffering as much as he had at any time in
prison, excepting he was not in irons, nor exposed to the insults of those
cruel jailers.
"For the first fortnight after his departure, my anxiety was less than it had
been at any time previous, since the commencement of our difficulties. I
knew the Burmese officers at the camp would feel the value of Mr. Judson's
services too much to allow their using any measures threatening his life. I
thought his situation, also, would be much more comfortable than it really
was--hence my anxiety was less. But my health, which had never been
CHAPTER IX. 618
restored, since that violent attack at Oung-pen-la, now daily declined, till I
was seized with the spotted fever, with all its attendant horrors. I knew the
nature of the fever from its commencement; and from the shattered state of
my constitution, together with the want of medical attendants, I concluded
it must be fatal. The day I was taken, a Burmese nurse came and offered her
services for Maria. This circumstance filled me with gratitude and
confidence in God; for though I had so long and so constantly made efforts
to obtain a person of this description, I had never been able; when at the
very time I most needed one, and with out any exertion, a voluntary offer
was made. My fever raged violently and without any intermission. I began
to think of settling my worldly affairs, and of committing my dear little
Maria to the care of a Portuguese woman, when I lost my reason, and was
insensible to all around me. At this dreadful period, Dr. Price was released
from prison; and hearing of my illness, obtained permission to come and
see me. He has since told me that my situation was the most distressing he
had ever witnessed, and that he did not then think I should survive many
hours. My hair was shaved, my head and feet covered with blisters, and Dr.
Price ordered the Bengalee servant who took care of me, to endeavour to
persuade me to take a little nourishment, which I had obstinately refused
for several days. One of the first things I recollect was, seeing this faithful
servant standing by me, trying to induce me to take a little wine and water.
I was in fact so far gone, that the Burmese neighbours who had come in to
see me expire, said, 'She is dead; and if the king of angels should come in,
he could not recover her.'
"The fever, I afterwards understood, had run seventeen days when the
blisters were applied. I now began to recover slowly; but it was more than a
month after this before I had strength to stand. While in this weak,
debilitated state, the servant who had followed your brother to the Burmese
camp, came in, and informed me that his master had arrived, and was
conducted to the court-house in town. I sent off a Burman to watch the
movements of government, and to ascertain, if possible, in what way Mr.
Judson was to be disposed of. He soon returned with the sad intelligence,
that he saw Mr. Judson go out of the palace yard, accompanied by two or
three Burmans, who conducted him to one of the prisons; and that it was
reported in town, that he was to be sent back to the Oung-pen-la prison. I
CHAPTER IX. 619
was too weak to bear ill tidings of any kind; but a shock so dreadful as this,
almost annihilated me. For some time, I could hardly breathe; but at last
gained sufficient composure to dispatch Moung Ing to our friend, the
governor of the north gate, and begged him to make one more effort for the
release of Mr. Judson, and prevent his being sent back to the country
prison, where I knew he must suffer much, as I could not follow. Moung
Ing then went in search of Mr. Judson; and it was nearly dark when he
found him in the interior of an obscure prison. I had sent food early in the
afternoon, but being unable to find him, the bearer had returned with it,
which added another pang to my distresses, as I feared he was already sent
to Oung-pen-la.
"If I ever felt the value and efficacy of prayer, I did at this time. I could not
rise from my couch; I could make no efforts to secure my husband; I could
only plead with that great and powerful Being who has said, 'Call upon me
in the day of trouble, and I will hear, and thou shalt glorify me;'" and who
made me at this time feel so powerfully this promise, that I became quite
composed, feeling assured that my prayers would be answered.
"When Mr. Judson was sent from Maloun to Ava, it was within five
minutes' notice, and without his knowledge of the cause. On his way up the
river, he accidently saw the communication made to government respecting
him, which was simply this: 'We have no further use for Yoodathan, we
therefore return him to the golden city.' On arriving at the court-house,
there happened to be no one present who was acquainted with Mr. J. The
presiding officer inquired from what place he had been sent to Maloun. He
was answered from Oung-pen-la. Let him then, said the officer, be returned
thither--when he was delivered to a guard and conducted to the place
above-mentioned, there to remain until he could be conveyed to
Oung-pen-la. In the mean time the governor of the north gate presented a
petition to this high court of the empire, offered himself as Mr. Judson's
security, obtained his release, and took him to his house, where he treated
him with every possible kindness, and to which I was removed as soon as
returning health would allow.
CHAPTER IX. 620
"The rapid strides of the English army towards the capital at this time,
threw the whole town into the greatest state of alarm, and convinced the
government that some speedy measures must be taken to save the golden
city. They had hitherto rejected all the overtures of Sir Archibald Campbell,
imagining, until this late period, that they could in some way or other, drive
the English from the country. Mr. Judson and Dr. Price were daily called to
the court-house and consulted; in fact, nothing was done without their
approbation. Two English officers, also, who had lately been brought to
Ava as prisoners, were continually consulted, and their good offices
requested in endeavouring to persuade the British General to make peace
on easier terms. It was finally concluded that Mr. Judson and one of the
officers above-mentioned, should be sent immediately to the English camp,
in order to negotiate. The danger attached to a situation so responsible,
under a government so fickle as the Burmese, induced your brother to use
every means possible to prevent his being sent. Dr. Price was not only
willing, but desirous of going; this circumstance Mr. Judson represented to
the members of government, and begged he might not be compelled to go,
as Dr. Price could transact this business equally as well as himself. After
some hesitation and deliberation, Dr. Price was appointed to accompany
Dr. Sandford, one of the English officers, on condition that Mr. Judson
would stand security for his return; while the other English officer, then in
irons, should be security for Dr. Sandford. The king gave them a hundred
tickals each, to bear their expenses, (twenty-five of which Dr. Sandford
generously sent to Mr. Gouger, still a prisoner at Oung-pen-la,) boats, men,
and a Burmese officer, to accompany them, though he ventured no farther
than the Burman camp. With the most anxious solicitude the court waited
the arrival of the messengers, but did not in the least relax in their exertions
to fortify the city. Men and beasts were at work night and day, making new
stockades and strengthening old ones, and whatever buildings were in their
way were immediately torn down. Our house, with all that surrounded it,
was levelled to the ground, and our beautiful little compound turned into a
road and a place for the erection of cannon. All articles of value were
conveyed out of town and safely deposited in some other place.
"At length the boat in which the ambassadors had been sent was seen
approaching a day earlier than was expected. As it advanced towards the
CHAPTER IX. 621
city, the banks were lined by thousands, anxiously inquiring their success.
But no answer was given--the government must first hear the news. The
palace gates were crowded, the officers at the Tlowtdau were seated, when
Dr. Price made the following communication: 'The general and
commissioners will make no alteration in their terms, except the hundred
lacks (a lack is a hundred thousand) of rupees, may be paid at four different
times. The first twenty-five lacks to be paid within twelve days, or the army
will continue their march.' In addition to this, the prisoners were to be given
up immediately. The general had commissioned Dr. Price to demand Mr.
Judson and myself and little Maria. This was communicated to the king,
who replied, 'They are not English, they are my people, and shall not go.'
At this time, I had no idea that we should ever be released from Ava. The
government had learned the value of your brother's services, having
employed him the last three months; and we both concluded they would
never consent to our departure. The foreigners were again called to a
consultation, to see what could be done. Dr. Price and Mr. Judson told them
plainly that the English would never make peace on any other terms than
those offered, and that it was in vain to go down again without the money.
It was then proposed that a third part of the first sum demanded should he
sent down immediately. Mr. Judson objected, and still said it would be
useless. Some of the members of government then intimated that it was
probable the teachers were on the side of the English, and did not try to
make them take a smaller sum; and also threatened if they did not make the
English comply, they and their families should suffer.
"In this interval, the fears of the government were considerably allayed, by
the offers of a general, by name Layarthoo-yah, who desired to make one
more attempt to conquer the English, and disperse them. He assured the
king and government, that he could so fortify the ancient city of Pagan, as
to make it impregnable; and that he would there defeat and destroy the
English. His offers were heard, he marched to Pagan with a very
considerable force, and made strong the fortifications. But the English took
the city with perfect ease, and dispersed the Burmese army; while the
general fled to Ava, and had the presumption to appear in the presence of
the king, and demand new troops. The king being enraged that he had ever
listened to him for a moment, in consequence of which the negotiation had
CHAPTER IX. 622
been delayed, the English general provoked, and the troops daily
advancing, that he ordered the general to be immediately executed! The
poor fellow was soon hurled from the palace, and beat all the way to the
court-house--when he was stripped of his rich apparel, bound with cords,
and made to kneel and bow towards the palace. He was then delivered into
the hands of the executioners, who, by their cruel treatment, put an end to
his existence, before they reached the place of execution.
"Dr. Price was sent off the same night, with part of the prisoners, and with
instructions to persuade the general to take six lacks instead of twenty-five.
He returned in two or three days with the appalling intelligence, that the
English general was very angry, refused to have any communication with
him, and was now within a few days' march of the capital. The queen was
greatly alarmed, and said the money should be raised immediately, if the
English would only stop their march. The whole palace was in motion, gold
and silver vessels were melted up, the king and queen superintended the
weighing of a part of it, and were determined, if possible, to save their city.
The silver was ready in the boats by the next evening; but they had so little
confidence in the English, that after all their alarm, they concluded to send
down six lacks only, with the assurance that if the English would stop
where they then were, the remainder should be forthcoming immediately.
"The government now did not even ask Mr. Judson the question whether he
would go or not; but some officers took him by the arm as he was walking
in the street, and told him he must go immediately on board the boat, to
accompany two Burmese officers, a Woongyee and Woondouk, who were
going down to make peace. Most of the English prisoners were sent at the
same time. The general and commissioners would not receive the six lacks,
neither would they stop their march; but promised, if the sum complete
reached them before they should arrive at Ava, they would make peace.
The general also commissioned Mr. Judson to collect the remaining
foreigners, of whatever country, and ask the question before the Burmese
government, whether they wished to go or stay. Those who expressed a
CHAPTER IX. 623
"Mr. Judson reached Ava at midnight; had all the foreigners called the next
morning, and the question asked. Some of the members of government said
to him, 'You will not leave us--you shall become a great man if you will
remain.' He then secured himself from the odium of saying that he wished
to leave the service of his majesty by recurring to the order of Sir
Archibald, that whoever wished to leave Ava should be given up, and that I
had expressed a wish to go, so that he of course must follow. The
remaining part of the twenty-five lacks was soon collected; the prisoners at
Oung-pen-la were all released, and either sent to their houses, or down the
river to the English; and in two days from the time of Mr. Judson's return,
we took an affectionate leave of the good natured officer who had so long
entertained us at his house, and who now accompanied us to the water side,
and we then left forever the banks of Ava.
"We now, for the first time, for more than a year and a half, felt that we
were free, and no longer subject to the oppressive yoke of the Burmese.
And with what sensations of delight, on the next morning, did I behold the
masts of the steam-boat, the sure presage of being within the bounds of
civilized life. As soon as our boat reached the shore, brigadier A. and
another officer came on board, congratulated us on our arrival, and invited
us on board the steam-boat, where I passed the remainder of the day; while
your brother went on to meet the general, who, with a detachment of the
army, had encamped at Yandaboo, a few miles further down the river. Mr.
Judson returned in the evening, with an invitation from Sir Archibald, to
come immediately to his quarters, where I was the next morning
introduced, and received with the greatest kindness by the general, who had
a tent pitched for us near his own--took us to his own table, and treated us
with the kindness of a father, rather than as strangers of another country.
"We feel that our obligations to general Campbell can never be cancelled.
Our final release from Ava, and our recovering all the property that had
there been taken, was owing entirely to his efforts. This subsequent
hospitality and kind attention to the accommodations for our passage to
Rangoon, have left an indelible impression on our minds, which can never
be forgotten. We daily received the congratulation of the British officers,
whose conduct towards us formed a striking contrast to that of the
Burmese. I presume to say, that no persons on earth were ever happier than
we were, during the fortnight we passed at the English camp. For several
days, this single idea wholly occupied my mind, that we were out of the
power of the Burmese government, and once more under the protection of
the English. Our feelings continually dictated expressions like these: What
shall we render to the Lord for all his benefits towards us?
"The treaty of peace was soon concluded, signed by both parties, and a
termination of hostilities publicly declared. We left Yandaboo, after a
fortnight's residence, and safely reached the mission house in Rangoon,
after an absence of two years and three months.
"A review of our trip to, and adventures in, Ava, often, excites the inquiry,
Why were we permitted to go? What good has been effected? Why did I
CHAPTER IX. 625
not listen to the advice of friends in Bengal, and remain there till the war
was concluded? But all that we can say is, It is not in man that walketh to
direct his steps. So far as my going round to Rangoon, at the time I did, was
instrumental in bringing those heavy afflictions upon us, I can only say,
that if I ever acted from a sense of duty in my life, it was at that time; for
my conscience would not allow me any peace, when I thought of sending
for your brother to come to Calcutta, in prospect of the approaching war.
Our society at home have lost no property in consequence of our
difficulties; but two years of precious time have been lost to the mission,
unless some future advantage may be gained, in consequence of the severe
discipline to which we ourselves have been subject. We are sometimes
induced to think, that the lesson we found so very hard to learn, will have a
beneficial effect through our lives; and that the mission may, in the end, be
advanced rather than retarded.
"We should have had no hesitation about remaining in Ava, if no part of the
Burmese empire had been ceded to the British. But as it was, we felt it
would be an unnecessary exposure, besides the missionary field being
much more limited, in consequence of intoleration. We now consider our
future missionary prospects as bright indeed; and our only anxiety is, to be
once more in that situation where our time will be exclusively devoted to
the instruction of the heathen."
"From the date at the commencement of this long letter, you see, my dear
brother, that my patience has continued for two months. I have frequently
been induced to throw it aside altogether, but feeling assured that you and
my other friends are expecting something of this kind I am induced to send
it with all its imperfections. This letter, dreadful as are the scenes herein
described, gives you but a faint idea of the awful reality. The anguish, the
agony of mind, resulting from a thousand little circumstances impossible to
delineate on paper, can be known by those only who have been in similar
situations. Pray for us, my dear brother and sister, that these heavy
afflictions may not be in vain, but may be blessed to our spiritual good, and
the advancement of Christ's church among the heathen."
CHAPTER IX. 626
"Mrs. Judson was the author of those eloquent and forcible appeals to the
government, which prepared them by degrees for submission to terms of
peace, never expected by any, who knew the hauteur and inflexible pride of
the Burman court.
"When the tattered state of our clothes evinced the extremity of our distress,
she was ever ready to replenish our scanty wardrobe.
"When the unfeeling avarice of our keepers confined us inside, or made our
feet fast in the stocks, she, like a ministering angel, never ceased her
applications to the government, until she was authorized to communicate to
us the grateful news of our enlargement, or of a respite from our galling
oppressions.
CHAPTER XX.
The exertions of Christians to spread the truths of the gospel among the
Africans in the West Indies, have met with much opposition from the white
population. Moravian missionaries, at first, sold themselves as slaves, and
laboured with the negroes on the plantations for the purpose of preaching
the gospel during the intervals of labour. The Methodist missionaries have
been treated with much indignity, and have had their lives endangered by
the violence of the white mob. In 1816, the white rabble of Barbadoes,
collected together, and totally destroyed the Methodist chapel. The
destruction of the chapel occupied two successive nights, and so listless
were the authorities, that no attempt was made to prevent it. And when the
governor issued a proclamation, offering a reward to any person who
should apprehend the leaders in this outrageous proceeding, the mob
immediately issued a counter proclamation, threatening with death any one
who should dare to comply with the governor's orders.
Various accounts have, from time to time, appeared in the public prints, of
the insurrection of the slaves in the colony of Demerara, and of the
condemnation of the Rev. Mr. Smith, a missionary from the London
Missionary Society, on an accusation of having been accessary to the plot.
We have collected and embodied such of the leading facts, relative to these
transactions, as have come to our knowledge.
movements; and only a few hours before the time appointed for action.
Information was immediately communicated to the commander-in-chief,
and the most efficient measures taken; but before a sufficient force could be
assembled to resist a large body of negroes, who were immediately under
arms, the evening, which was the time for executing the first grand
enterprise, had arrived. This was simultaneously to seize upon the whites at
the different plantations, confine them in the stocks, and take possession of
their arms. This was effected on nearly fifty plantations, containing,
inclusive of women and children, 10 or 12,000 negroes. The whites, to the
number of about 250, were imprisoned. In some places an ineffectual
resistance was made, and several lives lost on both sides.
A court martial was then constituted, and many of the negroes brought to
trial, condemned and executed. Subsequent accounts state that more than
1000 had suffered death, in consequence of the insurrection, and that many
of their heads had been fixed up on poles in various parts of the country.
The extract which follows is from the Missionary Chronicle, and was
published in the name of the Directors of the London Missionary Society.
Mr. Smith was taken into custody on the evening of the 21st August, and
all his papers seized. He is kept a prisoner in the Colony-house, and has,
since the 24th of August, had a guard stationed over him.
Mr. Elliot, another missionary, who laboured about 20 miles from Mr.
Smith, was also taken into custody, on the ground of disobedience of
orders, "which he had not understood to be such," in visiting Mr. Smith in
his confinement. He was kept about ten days, and then released. No charge
was preferred against him. The estates on which he labours had been quiet,
and none of the negroes under his instructions were implicated in the
rebellion.
Numerous false reports have been sent forth against Mr. Smith, but assure
yourself and all the directors, that whatever reports you may hear, the only
crime the missionaries have committed is their zeal for the conversion of
the negroes. They have neither been so weak nor so wicked as to excite the
negroes to rebellion. The missionaries want justice only; they have no
favour to ask; they have nothing to fear. The missionaries have not
degraded their holy calling, nor dishonoured the society of which they are
members, by sowing the seeds of rebellion instead of the Word of Life. The
real causes of the rebellion are far, very far from being the instructions
given by the missionaries.
On the 13th of October, Mr. Smith was brought to trial before a court
martial. All the accounts which we have yet seen of the charges brought
CHAPTER XX. 630
against him are very obscure and imperfect. The January number of the
Missionary Chronicle, from which we have already quoted, says,--
The public papers have stated four charges as forming the indictment
against him, but of their accuracy the directors are not enabled to judge.
They trust that, under the direction of Divine Providence, he has been able
to prove himself guiltless of them all.
We can as yet learn little more respecting the evidence which was produced
before the court than that some of the negroes testified that the instructions
of Mr. Smith had a tendency to make them dissatisfied with their condition,
and that he knew of the plot before it was carried into execution.
It appears from the London papers, that "the king has remitted the sentence
of death of the court martial on Mr. Smith, the missionary of the London
Society in Demerara, (which sentence was accompanied by a
CHAPTER XX. 631
recommendation for mercy on the part of the court,) but has given orders
that he should be dismissed from the colony, and should come under
obligations not to reside within any of his majesty's colonial possessions in
the West Indies." The charges against Mr. Smith appear to have originated
in the perjury of some of the negroes engaged in the insurrection.
In the mean time Mr. Smith was languishing under the influence of disease,
which rendered the stroke of the executioner unnecessary to remove him
from the earth. He died in prison, before the intelligence had arrived that
his sentence was reversed. The following notice of his death appeared in
the Demerara Courant.
Died,--In the Colonial Jail, at Demerara, February 9th, where he had been
confined, as a state prisoner since the 26th of November last, on the
termination of his trial by the general court martial, on a charge of high
treason, sentence thereon having been transmitted to his majesty for his
final decision--JOHN SMITH, missionary; he had been in a poor state of
health, and had been attended regularly by skilful physicians. We are happy
to state, from personal inquiry and inspection, that this unhappy man had
the utmost attention and kindness shewn to him, by the humane keeper of
the prison, (Mr. Padmore,) all the time of his confinement. His apartment
was airy and commodious, he had always at his command every comfort
which his taste fancied or his necessities required. He has left a widow to
deplore his fate, and deplore his loss.
The conviction which results from the present state of our information on
this subject, is that, through prejudice and exasperated feeling, Mr. Smith
was condemned, being innocent. The directors of the society under which
he laboured, have, however, given us reason to look for further intelligence
in a future number of the Missionary Chronicler, which we hope will soon
arrive.
It appears that none of the negroes under the instruction of any missionary,
either of the London or Wesleyan Missionary Society except Mr. Smith,
were implicated in the insurrection. Respecting the Methodists in the
colony we quote the following statement from the Wesleyan Methodist
CHAPTER XX. 632
Magazine:
We stated in our last number, that Messrs. Mortier and Cheesewright, our
missionaries in Demerara were safe, and that only two of the members of
our society there had been apprehended on suspicion of being implicated in
the late revolt. We have received a second letter from Mr. Mortier, dated
Demerara, September seventeenth, which communicated the gratifying
intelligence that these two persons, who were servants of the governor, had
been liberated upon full conviction of their entire innocence, and that no
one of the members of our large society of twelve hundred and sixteen,
chiefly slaves, had been in the least concerned in the revolt: and that the
slaves of another estate, under the care of Mr. Cheesewright, had not only
refused to join the rebels, but had conducted their master to a vessel, by
which he reached Georgetown in safety.
The Directors having stated these points of serious objection (and more
might easily be found,) to the proceedings on the trial, conclude that the
members of the society, and the candid beyond its circle, will approve of
their declaring that they retain the conviction formerly expressed, of the
moral and legal innocence of their missionary, Smith; that they do not
withdraw from him their confidence; and that they are "not ashamed of his
bonds." They regard him as an unmerited sufferer, in the diligent and
faithful, and it may be added, useful discharge of his duties, as a
missionary; and they earnestly wish the Divine forgiveness may be
extended to those who may have been instrumental in causing his
sufferings.
CHAPTER XX. 633
The Rev. Mr. Austin, a clergyman of the church of England, and Chaplain
of the Colony, thus expresses his opinion in a private letter.
This subject was brought before the English parliament, and after a full and
fair discussion, the innocence of Mr. Smith was established beyond a
question. The following from the London Christian Observer gives an
account of the proceedings in Parliament.
A debate of two days' continuance on the case of the missionary Smith has
taken place in the House of Commons. A motion was made by Mr.
Brougham, to express the serious alarm and deep sorrow with which the
house contemplated the violation of law and justice, manifested in the
unexampled proceedings against Mr. Smith in Demerara, and their sense of
the necessity of adopting measures to secure a just and humane
CHAPTER XX. 634
The following extracts from the journal of Mr. St. Denis, and letters of Mr.
Pressoir, members of the Methodist Society at Port au Prince, we copied
from the Wesleyan Magazine. The first extracts are from the journal of Mr.
St. Denis.
On Sunday, Feb. 2d, our assembly was held at Belair. During the morning
service several stones were thrown.
Feb. 4. Whilst we were singing, a shower of stones was thrown, but no one
received any injury.
CHAPTER XX. 635
The next morning, the person who keeps the keys of the prison under the
jailer told us, that the Juge de Paix would not allow our door to be opened;
but the jailer went and spoke respecting it, and our door was opened about
nine o'clock. A moment after the Juge de Paix came to visit us, and
addressing himself to me in anger, I wished to reply: he would not listen to
me; but began to blaspheme religion, despising the Lord. He withdrew in
anger, without being able to do any thing with us. A moment after he left
us, we were taken into the debtor's prison, near to the sisters, in a separate
chamber.
When Mr. Pressoir heard of this event, he visited his brethren at the prison.
The following extract is from one of his letters.
I would not run into prison of my own accord, but having waited, and
finding nothing was said to us, I went to see my brethren and sisters. I
found there were thirty-two, and St. Denis preparing to write to the
president, which he did, and I carried this letter to his excellency, by which
we requested him to cause us to be judged, and punished, if we were found
guilty by the law. When I arrived under the piazza of the palace, I asked an
officer on duty if I could see the president, who answered, Yes. I entered
CHAPTER XX. 636
the hall, where I found the president seated, and surrounded by a circle, as
well of officers as civilians. After saluting them, I presented the letter to the
president, who asked me from whence it came. I replied, "From the
methodists who are in prison." His good humour was immediately changed.
"Methodists," said he, "I did not know that." Colonel Victor, who was
present, thinking that through fear I would wish to conceal myself,
addressed himself to the president, saying, "President, this is a methodist,"
as if the president did not know it. Immediately the president replied, "You
are fanatics." "Pardon me, president, we are not." "Why, you have changed
your religion." "If I have changed my religion, president, it is the
government which has made me do it." "How is that?" said he. "It was the
late president who sent for the missionaries. I heard the letter read, and saw
the late president's signature: this is what I can tell you." "Enough, enough,"
said he, "I will send an answer." I went to the prison and waited till it was
late; but hearing nothing, and being ill of the fever, I returned to my
mother's.
The next day orders were given for the brethren and sisters to appear before
the chief judge. A dollar was demanded of each on leaving prison, and they
were conducted by a single serjeant. On their arrival the chief judge forbade
them, in the name of the president, to assemble together again. "No one can
hinder you from worshipping God as you please; but let every one abide at
home, for as often as you are found assembled you shall be put in prison;
and if you unhappily persist, I have received orders to disperse you every
where." Several wished to reply, but he refused to listen, saying, "It is not
from me; it is not my fault; these orders are given me." All our brethren and
sisters went out, animated with a holy zeal, determining not to abandon
their assemblies. The next day we were assembled. After an exhortation we
sung a hymn which being finished, we kneeled down to pray: a shower of
stones came, as if they would have demolished the house, and have stoned
us like Stephen. With one accord we commended ourselves to our faithful
Creator, and continued in prayer till they had ceased.
Since the Lord has granted us the favour of meeting again, we have
continued our assemblies without intermission, although forbidden to do
this under pain of prison and exile. The only interruption we meet with is
bad words, and a few stones now and then; and I am become so marked,
that I cannot go out without people crying after me, "Methodist!
Parson!"--with a contemptuous sneer, and a thousand other things not fit to
write, but which serve only to strengthen my faith in the promises of Him
who is faithful; till last Sunday some foolish young women came to revile
us; and on Tuesday evening, whilst reading, stones were thrown, and whilst
we were at prayer a great number rushed in, armed with sabres, sticks, and,
if I mistake not, with stones, crying out, "In the name of the law," as if they
had been authorized by the heads of the people to arrest us. This band
consisted of boys, led on to commit disorders by a set of idle,
good-for-nothing persons, of the worst class, who had armed themselves
with sabres, and were disguised with old cocked hats; trying thus to show
their bravery over those who would make no resistance. But the hairs of our
head are all numbered; nor have they been permitted to hurt any of us to the
present. It would be useless for us to ask or hope for the protection of the
law; and we are thus led to place all our confidence in God, who can and
will deliver us in his time. And if the Lord is for me, of whom should I be
afraid? He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for me, will
he not with him freely give me all things? I have already experienced that
all my sufferings for his name are great blessings to me. All my care is
about His church; and what wisdom does it require to conduct so many
persons of such different dispositions! I feel new wants daily.
experiencing any protection from the local authorities. The committee have
endeavoured to obtain for them the common protection of the laws of their
own country, by applications through various quarters, and hope they may
be ultimately successful. In the mean time this excellent and suffering
people are entitled to the special sympathies, and earnest prayers, of the
friends of missions. We trust that they may yet, by their meek and patient
suffering, and heroic perseverance, obtain that liberty of worship which
they so earnestly desire.
The letter from Mr. Pressoir is dated about a year since. The following
extracts describe the violence of the mob:
dark cruelty. It appeared as if Satan was unchained, and had come forth to
make war against those whom the truth of the gospel had made free, and to
crush those who had believed the testimony of the Son of God.
I ask, then, by whom have we been protected, and delivered unto this day?
Was it by magistrates, judges, and police officers? Or by the other guards
appointed to appease riots and defend the law? It is true, they were present
in great numbers, but it was rather to advise and direct others. Some
brought barrows full of stones, and others threw them, and said to the cruel
populace, that, since we were so obstinate, the government had given us
into their hands, and they might do to us whatever they pleased; and they
did treat us with inhumanity and the greatest violence.
In a recent number we laid before our readers some extracts of letters from
our afflicted and persecuted society at Port-au-Prince, Hayti; from which it
CHAPTER XX. 640
appeared that several of them had again been called to suffer bonds for the
cause of Christ; that the house in which they were in the habit of
assembling for religious worship was demolished; and that they themselves
were delivered up to the will of a blind and infuriated populace, the
magistrates refusing to afford them any protection against the outrages to
which they were daily exposed. From later communications we learn, that,
on an appeal being made by letter to the president, those in prison were set
at liberty; and that a proclamation was made by his excellency's orders,
forbidding any one to stone, injure, or otherwise persecute the methodists,
but at the same time prohibiting all meetings of our society for religious
worship; on pain of being arrested.
The letter to president Boyer shows very clearly the pacific character and
object of these protestants. It is too important a part of these documents to
be omitted.
President,--You are acquainted with our society, formed here six years ago.
The end of our meeting together is, to invoke the blessing of God, not only
on ourselves, but also on the government, its magistrates, and even on those
who evil entreat us without cause; for we do not hate them, nor render evil
for evil. This is what our religion commands. It is not that we wish by our
meetings to disobey our president; but our desire is to obey God our
sovereign, and his law requires that we should love the head that he has
placed over us.
We know that your excellency will not approve the conduct of those who
have stoned and evil entreated us without cause. We have been treated as
enemies to the government, yet are not such. Yesterday we were arrested
and put in prison, by order of general Thomas, who at once without
examination, pronounced our sentence. And we know this was not by order
of the president, which renders it our indisputable duty to give you
information thereof.
CHAPTER XX. 641
President, let our society be narrowly examined, and if fault is found in us,
we are willing to suffer the punishment we merit.
To this letter the president did not reply, but ordered those, who had been
arrested, to be set at liberty. Ten days after the date of the letter to the
president, a letter was written, from which the following paragraphs are
taken. The concluding sentences open the way for putting a favourable
construction on the intentions of the president.
Although this proclamation was made, yet the people did not cease to ill
treat us, and cry after us, as we went along. General Thomas gets out of that
affair by saying, that they only made use of his name when he had nothing
to do in it. "But, take care," said he, "if that continue, that it do not cost the
life of some one."
One of our sisters visited the president, to whom she made her complaints,
and informed him that it was said, that it was by his order that these things
were done. He received her very politely, assured her that this was not so,
but that he was exceedingly sorry that we should be improperly treated, and
that he had written to general Thomas to that effect, and if the general did
not attend to his orders he could not hold any command in the republic. In
consequence of this the general made the above proclamation. The
president also told her, that he could not allow us to hold our meetings,
because we were not in peace; that France was proposing to march upon us,
CHAPTER XX. 642
&c. &c. Since the last persecution, we enjoy, by the grace of God, the
means of praying, when several of us meet together.
CHAPTER XXI. 643
CHAPTER XXI.
sins.
It will not be supposed that the church escaped untainted, amidst all these
causes of corruption. The feeling which we found extensively prevalent,
that it was indecorous to inquire into the opinions of the clergy and the
doctrines actually maintained in the church, and which presented a serious
obstacle to investigation on this subject, sufficiently indicates, that there is
something which will not bear a comparison with the public standard. But
more unequivocal evidence of the change of opinion is found in the fact,
that candidates for the ministry are now only required to avow their belief
in the new testament, and these regulations are avowedly adopted, in order
not to exclude those who are called "liberal" or "rational" in their opinions.
We trust indeed, that there are many thousands in Switzerland, who have
not bowed the knee to Baal, in any form. We believe especially, that in the
cantons of Basle, Zurich, Appenzell, and Schaffhausen, as well as Geneva
and Vaud, there are many faithful ministers of the gospel. We know that in
the midst of decayed churches, there are little bands, who, without
separating themselves, or exciting public attention, have adopted the
principles and the devotional habits of the United Brethren, or Moravians.
CHAPTER XXI. 646
For several years past, two or three of the clergy of the established church
in the city of Berne, have preached the doctrines of the gospel, as exhibited
in the standards of the church, with simplicity and faithfulness. Much
interest was thus excited in a small number of persons, several of whom
were among the class of patricians, and the result might be termed a little
revival. Public attention was called to it, by the change of conduct in those
who were its subjects. Their consciences would no longer allow them to
partake in those violations of the Sabbath, and those questionable
amusements which were customary in the world around them; and they felt
the need of assembling themselves for social devotion and christian
intercourse, during the week. Those who felt reproved by such conduct,
spared neither censure nor ridicule. The names of "priest," "methodist,"
"mummer," etc., were unsparingly applied to them; and in one instance, the
windows of a person who was obnoxious on this account, were broken. It is
but justice to the government to state, that immediate and vigorous
measures were taken to repress all violence; and no one was suffered to
interrupt them, so long as they continued in connexion with the established
church. Much hostility was indeed expressed against these private
assemblies; but so much patrician influence was exerted in their favour,
that the government did not venture to execute the threats, sometimes
thrown out, of prohibiting them. Pietism continued to increase, from the
increased action produced by these social meetings; and the flame was
undoubtedly nourished by the conversation and correspondence of pious
British travellers, whose influence may now be traced in every part of the
continent, from Calais to Naples, and exhibits one of these remarkable traits
in the divine government, by which the seed of the word is scattered over
the world, often by the consent of those who wish to destroy it. The wealth
of the English gives them access every where. Even the court of Rome,
CHAPTER XXI. 647
rather than lose this source of revenue, allows heresy to rear its standard of
rebellion on the banks of the Tiber; and the efforts of such as are piously
disposed to spread light around them, are winked at, to avoid offending or
alarming the national spirit, even of those who are devoted to the pleasures
of the world.
During the year 1828, a small number of the persons who were thus
awakened, felt it their duty to separate themselves entirely from the
established church. Their consciences were wounded by the prostitution of
the ordinance of the supper, in admitting all who chose to come; since
many of the openly vicious, and a multitude who had no apparent interest
in religion, belonged to the number. They urged the necessity of discipline
from Matt. xvi. and xviii., 1 Cor. v., etc., and maintained that that could not
be deemed a church of Christ, which tolerated vice in its very bosom. They
felt themselves bound by the precept, 2 Thess. iii. 6, 14, 15, and 2 John 10,
11, to withdraw from a church in which the gospel was not generally
preached; and which cherished in its bosom, so many who crucified Christ
afresh, and whom they considered themselves as recognizing as brethren,
by partaking of the same bread and the same cup. This measure was
promoted by a person who had been banished from the canton de Vaud;
and who was received at Berne, under a pledge to the police, that he would
not speak of separation. The violation of this pledge led to his expulsion,
which was the first act of the government on this subject. This excited no
serious opposition, since those who agreed with him in sentiment, did not
approve of his violation of truth. It did not however prevent the continuance
of the assemblies of separatists, and their distinct avowal of their
sentiments; and they obtained from a member of the government belonging
to the established church, the use of a room to his own house, on condition
that nothing should be said there in direct promotion of separatism.
great annoyance of those who did not love the gospel. Thus warned of the
danger of violent measures, and yet anxious to find reasons for expelling
the leaders of the obnoxious party, they directed the superintendent of the
police to keep them and their assemblies under constant and rigid
inspection; and all who were concerned with them, were watched with the
same view. At the same time, one of the evangelical clergymen was sent
for, and warned to alter his mode of preaching; and although he did not
approve or preach separation, he was accused of contributing to the
excitement of feeling, which gave rise to it, by his mode of exhibiting the
doctrines of the bible. We need scarcely add, that the warning was without
effect on this faithful minister of Christ.
In the year 1813, a few pious individuals began to meet in private, for the
purpose of seeking and cherishing that holy truth which was banished from
the public assemblies. These persons were directed by some students of
theology, among whom was M. Empaytaz. The venerable company of
pastors soon heard of these unauthorized proceedings, and lost no time in
evincing their disapprobation respecting them. M. Empaytaz, was
especially marked out as the object of their displeasure; and they refused to
ordain him, unless he would avoid every religious assembly which had not
their sanction. He chose rather to incur their anathema than to wound his
conscience, and departed from the city.
But the light had broke forth, and it was not easy again to extinguish it. The
honourable company seem to have been extremely troubled as to the course
to be pursued. To sit still, however, was to yield to the rising spirit of
reformation, and they determined to bestir themselves. Accordingly, after
due deliberation, they issued certain regulations, bearing date May 3, 1817,
which they hoped would be received as articles.
These articles however, did not produce the anticipated effect. The doctrine
of the divinity of Christ, and others equally offensive to Unitarians,
continued to be preached. In 1818, M. Malan, a pious orthodox divine, was
deprived of his place of regent of the college; and another, M. Mejanel, was
ordered to quit Geneva.
CHAPTER XXI. 649
For some time, however, the individuals who retained their allegiance to
the Helvetic Confession, and remained at Geneva, still held their meetings,
with little other provocation than that of a few hard names, such as
"enthusiasts," "Nazarenes," "advocates for exploded doctrines," &c., which
the Unitarians, in the exuberance of their wit, and the overflowing of their
liberality, had the gratification to bespatter them. These attacks produced
very little impression upon the persons assailed. The arguments next
adopted, were calculated to supply the defect. About the beginning of July,
1818, the place of meeting being changed, when the persons assembled,
they found a large mob prepared to insult them. These enlightened and
worthy abettors of the reformed church of Geneva, and citizens of that free
republic, assembled at the house of meeting, and vociferated amidst other
expressions of hostility--we transcribe the words with shame and horror,--A
bas Jesus Christ! A bas les Moraves! A mort, a la lanterne, &c. and
pursued the obnoxious ministers as they came out, with similar cries.
Neither did they stop here: their valour and zeal, as is the case with all
mobs, became more impetuous as they were not resisted. "Our silence,"
says one who was present, "in the midst of these insults, did not satisfy
them: we had to suffer menaces, maledictions; stoning through the streets,
and the violation of our houses." Had not the police exerted themselves to
suppress these disorders, the consequences would probably have been still
more fearful.
The petition to the council of state is dated Dec. 24, 1823. The official
answer bears date Jan. 15, 1824; and has all the formalities with which the
CHAPTER XXI. 650
This iniquitous and anti-christian enactment has been carried into effect in
several instances. M. Charles Rochat, minister of the gospel, of the Canton
de Vaud, of a respectable family, and whose brother is one of the national
clergy, of the Canton, is the first on whom the severity of the law has
fallen. Five persons were found seated round a table in his own house, with
the bible open before them: the wife of M. Rochat, a common friend, with
two of his sisters, and a young person, a stranger. This was the whole
crime. M. Rochat was found guilty of reading in his own house, before his
wife and four friends, a chapter of the New Testament! For this he was at
first condemned to three year's banishment, which, however, the tribunal of
appeal reduced to one year.
Next, M. Olivier was banished for two years, by the sentence of the same
law.
prison.
But it is not merely in the Canton de Vaud that these enormous instances of
injustice have occurred: at Neufchatel, an act of arbitrary power has just
been committed, almost incredible from its severity. An old law, long
obsolete, has been discovered, which, it seems, was passed two or three
hundred years back. An agriculturer has been made the first victim of its
revived powers. He received into his house M. Juvet, one of the condemned
ministers of the Canton de Vaud, and allowed him to administer the
sacrament. For this crime he was thrown into prison for three months, and
was then brought up in chains, and with a rope drawn tight round his neck,
to receive sentence. Ten years banishment was the punishment pronounced;
and that if he shall attempt to return before the expiration of this term, he is
to be marked with a hot iron for the first offence, and for the second to be
hanged. No passport was given him, so that he was left to be hunted about
from place to place, like the most degraded criminal. This worthy man,
whose name was Maguin, has a wife and three children, for whom he has
now no means of procuring a support. [Wilson's Tour, 2d ed. page 325.]
A large number of Swiss pastors have been driven into banishment, by the
inquisitorial proceedings of those who style themselves the liberal party in
Switzerland. Many of the exiles are now residing in different parts of
France, mostly near the frontiers of their own country--others have found a
CHAPTER XXI. 652
One of them is now in that place where the wicked cease from
troubling--and another seems rapidly advancing to it. M. Juvet, who signed,
with two other ministers, the letter to the "Council of State," having been
banished from his own canton, sought an asylum in another canton: this
was refused. He then retired to Ferney Voltaire, and pursued his labors. He
was at that time weak from a pulmonary consumption; but he ventured on
an excursion to L'Isle of Mantrichen, to visit those who were disposed to
hear the word of God. "He was insulted, attacked and pursued by the
populace, from town to town; and at Le Isle, where he arrived quite
exhausted, and in profuse perspiration, he was thrown into a cold dungeon,
with only a chair and some chopped straw, on which to pass the night. His
friends were not permitted to give him either food, fire, or clothing, and in
this state he was detained fifteen hours." For two months he was confined
in the prison of Yverden, under circumstances of severe illness and medical
attendance was denied him. After leaving the prison, he was presently
arrested and expelled the commune. Under such accumulated sufferings,
nature at length gave way: he slept in the Lord; and among his last prayers
were petitions for his persecutors whether the magistrates or the mob.
CHAPTER XXII.
John Wickliffe.
The first thing which drew him into public notice, was his defence of the
University against the begging friars, who about this time, from their
settlement in Oxford in 1230, had been troublesome neighbours to the
University. Feuds were continually fomented; the friars appealing to the
pope, the scholars to the civil power; and sometimes one party, and
sometimes the other, prevailed. The friars became very fond of a notion
that Christ was a common beggar; that his disciples were beggars also; and
that begging was of gospel institution. This doctrine they urged from the
pulpit and wherever they had access.
CHAPTER XXII. 654
Wickliffe had long held these religious friars in contempt for the laziness of
their lives, and had now a fair opportunity of exposing them. He published
a treatise against able beggary, in which he lashed the friars, and proved
that they were not only a reproach to religion, but also to human society.
The University began to consider him one of her first champions, and he
was soon promoted to the mastership of Baliol College.
The clergy now began to write in favour of the pope, and a learned monk
published a spirited and plausible treatise, which had many advocates.
Wickliffe, irritated at seeing so bad a cause so well defended, opposed the
monk, and did it in so masterly a way, that he was considered no longer as
unanswerable. His suit at Rome was immediately determined against him;
and nobody doubted but his opposition to the pope, at so critical a period,
was the true cause of his being non-suited at Rome.
Wickliffe was afterward elected to the chair of the divinity professor: and
now fully convinced of the errors of the Romish church, and the vileness of
its monastic agents, he determined to expose them. In public lectures he
lashed their vices and opposed their follies. He unfolded a variety of abuses
covered by the darkness of superstition. At first he began to loosen the
prejudices of the vulgar, and proceeded by slow advances; with the
metaphysical disquisitions of the age, he mingled opinions in divinity
apparently novel. The usurpations of the court of Rome was a favourite
topic. On these he expatiated with all the keenness of argument, joined to
CHAPTER XXII. 655
logical reasoning. This soon procured him the clamour of the clergy, who,
with the archbishop of Canterbury, deprived him of his office.
At this time, the administration of affairs was in the hands of the duke of
Lancaster, well known by the name of John of Gaunt. This prince had very
free notions of religion, and was at enmity with the clergy. The exactions of
the court of Rome having become very burdensome, he determined to send
the bishop of Bangor and Wickliffe to remonstrate against these abuses,
and it was agreed that the pope should no longer dispose of any benifices
belonging to the church of England. In this embassy, Wickliffe's observant
mind penetrated into the constitution and policy of Rome, and he returned
more strongly than ever determined to expose its avarice and ambition.
After the death of Edward III. his grandson Richard II. succeeded, in the
eleventh year of his age. The duke of Lancaster not obtaining to be the sole
regent, as he expected, his power began to decline, and the enemies of
Wickliffe, taking advantage of this circumstance, renewed their articles of
accusation against him. Five bulls were despatched in consequence by the
pope to the king and certain bishops, but the regency and the people
manifested a spirit of contempt at the haughty proceedings of the pontiff,
and the former at that time wanting money to oppose an expected invasion
CHAPTER XXII. 656
of the French, proposed to apply a large sum, collected for the use of the
pope to that purpose. The question was submitted to the decision of
Wickliffe. The bishops, however, supported by the papal authority, insisted
upon bringing Wickliffe to trial, and he was actually undergoing
examination at Lambeth, when, from the riotous behaviour of the populace
without, and awed by the command of sir Lewis Clifford, a gentleman of
the court, that they should not proceed to any definitive sentence, they
terminated the whole affair in a prohibition to Wickliffe, not to preach
those doctrines which were obnoxious to the pope; but this was laughed at
by our reformer, who, going about barefoot, and in a long frieze gown,
preached more vehemently than before.
In the year 1378, a contest arose between two popes, Urban VI. and
Clement VII. which was the lawful pope, and true vicegerent of God. This
was a favourable period for the exertion of Wickliffe's talents: he soon
produced a tract against popery, which was eagerly read by all sorts of
people.
About the end of the year, Wickliffe was seized with a violent disorder,
which it was feared might prove fatal. The begging friars, accompanied by
four of the most eminent citizens of Oxford, gained admittance to his
bed-chamber, and begged of him to retract, for his soul's sake, the unjust
things he had asserted of their order. Wickliffe surprised at the solemn
message, raised himself in his bed, and with a stern countenance replied, "I
shall not die, but live to declare the evil deeds of the friars."
The court met at the appointed time, determined, at least to sit in judgment
upon his opinions, and some they condemned as erroneous, others as
heretical. The publication on this subject was immediately answered by
Wickliffe, who had become a subject of the archbishop's determined
malice. The king, solicited by the archbishop, granted a license to imprison
the teacher of heresy, but the commons made the king revoke this act as
illegal. The primate, however, obtained letters from the king, directing the
head of the university of Oxford to search for all heresies and the books
published by Wickliffe; in consequence of which order, the university
became a scene of tumult. Wickliffe is supposed to have retired from the
storm, into an obscure part of the kingdom. The seeds, however, were
scattered, and Wickliffe's opinions were so prevalent, that it was said, if
you met two persons upon the road, you might be sure that one was a
Lollard. At this period, the disputes between the two popes continued.
Urban published a bull, in which he earnestly called upon all who had any
regard for religion, to exert themselves in its cause; and to take up arms
against Clement and his adherents in defence of the holy see.
the token of Christ on the cross (which is the token of peace, mercy and
charity) a banner to lead us to slay christian men, for the love of two false
priests, and to oppress Christendom worse than Christ and his apostles were
oppressed by the Jews? When, said he, will the proud priest of Rome grant
indulgences to mankind to live in peace and charity, as he now does to fight
and slay one another?"
This severe piece drew upon him the resentment of Urban; and was likely
to have involved him in greater troubles than he had before experienced,
but providentially he was delivered out of their hands. He was struck with
the palsy, and though he lived some time yet in such a way, that his
enemies considered him as a person below their resentment. To the last he
attended divine worship, and received the fatal stroke of his disorder in his
church at Lutterworth, in the year 1384.
Martin Luther.
This illustrious German divine and reformer of the church, was the son of
John Luther and Margaret Lindeman, and born at Isleben, a town of
Saxony, in the county of Mansfield, November 10, 1483. His father's
extraction and condition were originally but mean, and his occupation that
of a miner: it is probable, however, that by his application and industry he
improved the fortunes of his family, as he afterward became a magistrate of
rank and dignity. Luther was early initiated into letters, and at the age of
thirteen was sent to school at Madgeburg, and thence to Eysenach, in
Thuringia, where he remained four years, producing the early indications of
his future eminence.
In 1501 he was sent to the university of Erfurt, where he went through the
usual courses of logic and philosophy. When twenty, he took a master's
degree, and then lectured on Aristotle's physics, ethics, and other parts of
philosophy. Afterward, at the instigation of his parents, he turned himself to
the civil law, with a view of advancing himself to the bar, but was diverted
from this pursuit by the following accident. Walking out into the fields one
day, he was struck by lightning so as to fall to the ground, while a
companion was killed by his side; and this affected him so sensibly, that,
CHAPTER XXII. 659
Here he employed himself in reading St. Augustine and the school men;
but, in turning over the leaves of the library, he accidentally found a copy
of the Latin Bible, which he had never seen before. This raised his curiosity
to a high degree: he read it over very greedily, and was amazed to find what
a small portion of the scriptures was rehearsed to the people. He made his
profession in the monastery of Erfurt, after he had been a novice one year;
and he took priest's orders, and celebrated his first mass in 1507. The year
after, he was removed from the convent of Erfurt to the university of
Wittemberg; for this university being just founded, nothing was thought
more likely to bring it into immediate repute and credit, than the authority
and presence of a man so celebrated, for his great parts and learning, as
Luther. In 1512, seven convents of his order having a quarrel with their
vicar-general, Luther was chosen to go to Rome to maintain their cause. At
Rome he saw the pope and the court, and had an opportunity of observing
also the manners of the clergy, whose hasty, superficial, and impious way
of celebrating mass, he has severely noted. As soon as he had adjusted the
dispute which was the business of his journey, he returned to Wittemberg,
and was created doctor of divinity, at the expense of Frederic, elector of
Saxony; who had often heard him preach, was perfectly acquainted with his
merit, and reverenced him highly. He continued in the university of
Wittemberg, where, as professor of divinity, he employed himself in the
business of his calling. Here then he began in the most earnest manner to
read lectures upon the sacred books: he explained the epistle to the
Romans, and the Psalms, which he cleared up and illustrated in a manner so
entirely new, and so different from what had been pursued by former
commentators, that "there seemed, after a long and dark night, a new day to
arise, in the judgment of all pious and prudent men." The better to qualify
himself for the task he had undertaken, he applied himself attentively to the
Greek and Hebrew languages; and in this manner was he employed, when
the general indulgences were published in 1517. Leo X. who succeeded
Julius II. in March, 1513, formed a design of building the magnificent
church of St. Peter's at Rome, which was, indeed, begun by Julius, but still
CHAPTER XXII. 660
The emperor Maximilian was equally solicitous with the pope about putting
a stop to the propagation of Luther's opinions in Saxony; troublesome both
to the church and empire. Maximilian, therefore, applied to Leo, in a letter
dated August 5, 1518, and begged him to forbid, by his authority, these
useless, rash, and dangerous disputes; assuring him also, that he would
strictly execute in the empire whatever his holiness should enjoin. In the
meantime Luther, as soon an he understood what was transacting about him
at Rome, used all imaginable means to prevent his being carried thither,
and to obtain a hearing of his cause in Germany. The elector was also
against Luther's going to Rome, and desired of cardinal Cajetan, that he
might be heard before him, as the pope's legate in Germany. Upon these
addresses, the pope consented that the cause should be tried before cardinal
Cajetan, to whom he had given power to decide it. Luther, therefore, set off
immediately for Augsburg, and carried with him letters from the elector. He
arrived here in October, 1518, and, upon an assurance of his safety, was
admitted into the cardinal's presence. But Luther was soon convinced that
he had more to fear from the cardinal's power, than from disputations of
any kind; and, therefore, apprehensive of being seized, if he did not submit,
withdrew from Augsburg upon the 20th. But, before his departure, he
published a formal appeal to the pope, and finding himself protected by the
elector, continued to teach the same doctrines at Wittemberg, and sent a
challenge to all the inquisitors to come and dispute with him.
the pure, sound, and orthodox divinity. Many great and learned men had
joined themselves to him. In 1519, he had a famous dispute at Leipsic with
John Eccius. But this dispute ended at length like all others, the parties not
the least nearer in opinion, but more to enmity with each other's persons.
About the end of this year, Luther published a book, in which he contended
for the communion being celebrated in both kinds; which was condemned
by the bishop of Misnia, January 24, 1520. While Luther was labouring to
excuse himself to the new emperor and the bishops of Germany, Eccius had
gone to Rome, to solicit his condemnation; which, it may easily be
conceived, was now become not difficult to be attained. Indeed the
continual importunities of Luther's adversaries with Leo, caused him at
length to publish a formal condemnation of him, and he did so accordingly,
in a bull, dated June 15, 1520; this was carried into Germany, and
published there by Eccius, who had solicited it at Rome; and who, together
with Jerom Alexander, a person eminent for his learning and eloquence,
was entrusted by the pope with the execution of it. In the meantime,
Charles V. of Spain, after he had set things to rights in the Low Countries,
went into Germany, and was crowned emperor, October the 21st, at
Aix-la-Chapelle. The diet of Worms was held in the beginning of 1521;
which ended at length in this single and peremptory declaration of Luther,
that "unless he was convinced by texts of scripture or evident reason (for he
did not think himself obliged to submit to the pope or his councils,) he
neither could nor would retract any thing, because it was not lawful for him
to act against his conscience." Before the diet of Worms was dissolved,
Charles V. caused an edict to be drawn up, which was dated the 8th of
May, and decreed that Martin Luther be, agreeably to the sentence of the
pope, henceforward looked upon as a member separated from the church, a
schismatic, and an obstinate and notorious heretic. While the bull of Leo X.
executed by Charles V. was thundering throughout the empire, Luther was
safely shut up in the castle of Wittemberg; but weary at length of his
retirement, he appeared publickly again at Wittemberg, March 6, 1522,
after he had been absent about ten months. Luther now made open war with
the pope and bishops; and, that he might make the people despise their
authority as much as possible, he wrote one book against the pope's bull,
and another against the order falsely called "the order of bishops." He
published also, a translation of the "New Testament" in the German tongue,
CHAPTER XXII. 663
In 1527, Luther was suddenly seized with a coagulation of the blood about
the heart, which had like to have put an end to his life. The troubles of
Germany being not likely to have any end, the emperor was forced to call a
diet at Spires, in 1529, to require the assistance of the princes of the empire
against the Turks. Fourteen cities, viz. Stratsburg, Nuremberg, Ulm,
Constance, Retlingen, Windsheim, Memmingen, Lindow, Kempten,
Hailbron, Isny, Weissemburg, Nortlingen, S. Gal, joined against the decree
of the diet protestation, which was put into writing, and published the 19th
of April, 1529. This was the famous protestation, which gave the name of
Protestants to the reformers in Germany.
After this, the protestant princes laboured to make a firm league and
enjoined the elector of Saxony and his allies to approve of what the diet had
done; but the deputies drew up an appeal, and the protestants afterwards
presented an apology for their "Confession"--that famous confession which
was drawn up by the temperate Melancthon, as also the apology. These
were signed by a variety of princes, and Luther had now nothing else to do,
but to sit down and contemplate the mighty work he had finished: for that a
single monk should be able to give the church of Rome so rude a shock,
that there needed but such another entirely to overthrow it, may be well
esteemed a mighty work.
hand, shows; and it was published in the year after. He also published this
year a book "against masses and the consecration of priests." In February,
1537, an assembly was held at Smalkald about matters of religion, to which
Luther and Melancthon were called. At this meeting Luther was seized with
so grievous an illness, that there was no hope of his recovery. As he was
carried along he made his will, in which he bequeathed his detestation of
popery to his friends and brethren. In this manner was he employed till his
death, which happened in 1546. That year, accompanied by Melancthon, he
paid a visit to his own country, which he had not seen for many years, and
returned again in safety. But soon after, he was called thither again by the
earls of Mansfelt, to compose some differences which had arisen about
their boundaries, where he was received by 100 horsemen, or more, and
conducted in a very honourable manner; but was at the same time so very
ill, that it was feared he would die. He said, that these fits of sickness often
came upon him, when he had any great business to undertake; of this,
however, he did not recover, but died February 18, in his 63d year. A little
before he expired, he admonished those that were about him to pray to God
for the propagation of the gospel; "because," said he, "the council of Trent,
which had sat once or twice, and the pope, will devise strange things
against it." Soon after, his body was put into a leaden coffin, and carried
with funeral pomp to the church at Iselbein, when Dr. Jonas preached a
sermon upon the occasion. The earls of Mansfelt desired that his body
should be interred in their territories; but the elector of Saxony insisted
upon his being brought back to Wittemberg, which was accordingly done;
and there he was buried with the greatest pomp that perhaps ever happened
to any private man. Princes, earls, nobles, and students without number,
attended the procession of this extraordinary reformer; and Melancthon
made his funeral oration.
This is the language of those in the church of Rome who speak of Luther
with any degree of moderation; for the generality allow him neither parts,
nor learning, nor any attainment intellectual or moral. But let us leave these
impotent railers, and attend a little to more equitable judges. "Luther," says
Wharton, in his appendix to Cave's Historia Literaria, "was a man of
prodigious sagacity and acuteness, very warm, and formed for great
undertakings; being a man, if ever there was one, whom nothing could
daunt or intimidate. When the cause of religion was concerned, he never
regarded whose love he was likely to gain, or whose displeasure to incur."
He is also highly spoken of by Atterbury and others.
John Calvin.
This reformer was born at Noyon in Picardy, July 10, 1409. He was
instructed in grammar learning at Paris under Maturinus Corderius, and
studied philosophy in the college of Montaign under a Spanish professor.
His father, who discovered many marks of his early piety, particularly in
his reprehensions of the vices of his companions, designed him at first for
the church, and got him presented, May 21, 1521, to the chapel of Notre
Dame de la Gesine, in the church of Noyon. In 1527 he was presented to
the rectory of Marieville, which he exchanged in 1529 for the rectory of
Pont l'Eveque, near Noyon. His father afterward changed his resolution,
and would have him study law; to which Calvin, who, by reading the
scriptures, had conceived a dislike to the superstitions of popery, readily
consented, and resigned the chapel of Gesine and the rectory of Pont
l'Eveque, in 1534. He made a great progress in that science, and improved
no less in the knowledge of divinity by his private studies. At Bourges he
applied to the Greek tongue, under the direction of professor Wolmar. His
CHAPTER XXII. 666
father's death having called him back to Noyon, he stayed there a short
time, and then went to Paris, where a speech of Nicholas Cop, rector of the
university of Paris, of which Calvin furnished the materials, having greatly
displeased the Sarbonne and the parliament, gave rise to a persecution
against the protestants, and Calvin, who narrowly escaped being taken in
the college of Forteret, was forced to retire to Xaintonge, after having had
the honour to be introduced to the queen of Navarre, who had raised this
first storm against the protestants. Calvin returned to Paris in 1534. This
year the reformed met with severe treatment, which determined him to
leave France, after publishing a treatise against those who believe that
departed souls are in a kind of sleep. He retired to Basil, where he studied
Hebrew: at this time he published his Institutions of the Christian religion;
a work well adapted to spread his fame, though he himself was desirous of
living in obscurity. It is dedicated to the French king, Francis I. Calvin next
wrote an apology for the protestants who were burnt for their religion in
France. After the publication of this work, Calvin went to Italy to pay a
visit to the duchess of Ferrara, a lady of eminent piety, by whom he was
very kindly received.
From Italy he came back to France, and having settled his private affairs, he
proposed to go to Strasbourg or Basil, in company with his sole surviving
brother, Antony Calvin; but as the roads were not safe on account of the
war, except through the duke of Savoy's territories, he chose that road.
"This was a particular direction of Providence," says Bayle; "it was his
destiny that he should settle at Geneva, and when he was wholly intent
upon going farther, he found himself detained by an order from heaven, if I
may so speak." At Geneva, Calvin therefore was obliged to comply with
the choice which the consistory and magistrates made of him, with the
consent of the people, to be one of their ministers, and professor of divinity.
He wanted to undertake only this last office, and not the other; but in the
end he was obliged to take both upon him, in August, 1536. The year
following, he made all the people declare, upon oath, their assent to the
confession of faith, which contained a renunciation of popery. He next
intimated, that he could not submit to a regulation which the canton of
Berne had lately made. Whereupon the syndics of Geneva, summoned an
assembly of the people; and it was ordered that Calvin, Farel, and another
CHAPTER XXII. 667
minister, should leave the town in a few days, for refusing to administer the
sacrament.
It has long been the delight of both infidels and some professed christians,
when they wish to bring odium upon the opinions of Calvin, to refer to his
agency in the death of Michael Servetus. This action is used on all
occasions by those who have been unable to overthrow his opinions, as a
conclusive argument against his whole system. Calvin burnt
Servetus!--Calvin burnt Servetus! is good proof with a certain class of
reasoners, that the doctrine of the Trinity is not true--that divine
sovereignty is anti-scriptural,--and christianity a cheat. We have no wish to
palliate any act of Calvin's which is manifestly wrong. All his proceedings,
in relation to the unhappy affair of Servetus, we think, cannot be defended.
Still it should be remembered that the true principles of religious toleration
were very little understood in the time of Calvin. All the other reformers
then living, approved of Calvin's conduct. Even the gentle and amiable
Melancthon expressed himself in relation to this affair, in the following
manner. In a letter addressed to Bullinger, he says, "I have read your
statement respecting the blasphemy of Servetus, and praise your piety and
judgment; and am persuaded that the Council of Geneva has done right in
putting to death this obstinate man, who would never have ceased his
blasphemies. I am astonished, that any one can be found to disapprove of
this proceeding." Farel expressly says, that "Servetus deserved a capital
punishment." Bucer did not hesitate to declare, that "Servetus deserved
something worse than death." The truth is, although Calvin had some hand
CHAPTER XXII. 668
It has been often asserted, that Calvin possessed so much influence with the
magistrates of Geneva, that he might have obtained the release of Servetus,
had he not been desirous of his destruction. This however, is not true. So
far from it, that Calvin was himself once banished from Geneva, by these
very magistrates, and often opposed their arbitrary measures in vain. So
little desirous was Calvin of procuring the death of Servetus, that he warned
him of his danger and suffered him to remain several weeks at Geneva,
before he was arrested. But his language, which was then accounted
blasphemous, was the cause of his imprisonment. When in prison, Calvin
visited him, and used every argument to persuade him to retract his horrible
blasphemies, without reference to his peculiar sentiments. This was the
extent of Calvin's agency in this unhappy affair.
some protestants, was that pernicious error which they had imbibed in the
Church of Rome; and I believe, I can say, without doing any injury to that
church, that she is, in a great measure, answerable for the execution of
Servetus. If the Roman catholics had never put any person to death for the
sake of religion, I dare say that Servetus had never been condemned to die
in any protestant city. Let us remember, that Calvin, and all the magistrates
of Geneva, in the year 1553, were born and bred up in the church of Rome:
this is the best apology that can be made for them."--Biographia
Evangelica, vol. II. p. 42.
The apostles John and James would have called down fire from heaven;
Calvin and Cranmer kindled it on earth. This, however, is the only fault
alleged against Calvin; but "Let him that is without sin cast the first stone."
Calvin, and if the civil magistrates had been for burning him, Socinus
would have concurred with them. To this it might be added, that the
conduct of Socinus was marked with disingenuity: in that he considered the
opinion of David in no very heinous point of light; but was afraid of
increasing the odium under which he and his party already lay, among other
Christian churches.
The inflexible rigour with which Calvin asserted, on all occasions, the
rights of his consistory, procured him many enemies: but nothing daunted
him; and one would hardly believe, if there were not unquestionable proofs
of it, that, amidst all the commotions at home, he could take so much care
as he did of the churches abroad, in France, Germany, England, and Poland,
and write so many books and letters. He did more by his pen than his
presence; nevertheless on some occasions, he acted in person, particularly
at Frankfort, in 1556, whither he went to put an end to the disputes which
divided the French church in that city. He was always employed, having
almost constantly his pen in his hand, even when sickness confined him to
his bed; and he continued the discharge of all those duties, which his zeal
for the general good of the churches imposed on him, till the day of his
death, May 27, 1564. He was a man whom God had endowed with very
eminent talents; a clear understanding, a solid judgment, and a happy
memory: he was a judicious, elegant, and indefatigable writer, and
possessed of very extensive learning and a great zeal for truth. Joseph
Scaliger, who was not lavish of his praise, could not forbear admiring
Calvin; none of the commentators, he said, had so well hit the sense of the
prophets; and he particularly commended him for not attempting to give a
comment on the Revelation. We understand from Guy Patin, that many of
the Roman catholics would do justice to Calvin's merit, if they dared to
speak their minds. It must excite a laugh at those who have been so stupid
as to accuse him of being a lover of wine, good cheer, company, money,
&c. Artful slanderers would have owned that he was sober by constitution,
CHAPTER XXII. 671
That a men who had acquired so great a reputation and such an authority,
should yet have had but a salary of 100 crowns, and refuse to accept more;
and after living 55 years with the utmost frugality, should leave but 300
crowns to his heirs, including the value of his library, which sold very dear,
is something so heroical, that one must have lost all feeling not to admire.
When Calvin took his leave of Strasbourg, to return to Geneva, they wanted
to continue to him the privileges of a freeman of their town, and the
revenues of a prebend, which had been assigned to him; the former he
accepted, but absolutely refused the other. He carried one of the brothers
with him to Geneva, but he never took any pains to get him preferred to an
honourable post, as any other possessed of his credit would have done. He
took care indeed of the honour of his brother's family, by getting him freed
from an adultress, and obtaining leave for him to marry again; but even his
enemies relate that he made him learn the trade of a bookbinder, which he
followed all his life after.
The Rev. Dr. Wisner, in his late discourse at Plymouth, on the anniversary
of the landing of the pilgrims, makes the following assertion:--"Much as the
name of Calvin has been scoffed at and loaded with reproach by many sons
of freedom, there is not an historical proposition more susceptible of
complete demonstration than this, that no man has lived to whom the world
is under greater obligations for the freedom it now enjoys, than John
Calvin." In a note appended to the sermon, Dr. Wisner gives the following
testimonies, from history, of the truth of this proposition--testimonies
which deserve the more attention, as they come from Calvin's opposers. We
copy the note from the Boston Recorder.
learned divines, was most agreeable to scripture, and the best reformed
churches. And when, subsequently, the important step was taken, by
several puritans in and about London, of breaking off from the established
churches and setting up a separate congregation, they adopted for use, (as
they say in their 'agreement' thus to separate) a book and order of
preaching, administration of sacraments and discipline, that the great Mr.
Calvin had approved of, and which was free from the superstitions of the
English service."--Neal, i. 152, 153, 154, 155, 252.
But most important of all, in its influence on religious and civil liberty, was
the attachment of the puritans to a popular church government. And of the
origin of this system, we have the following account from 'the judicious
Hooker,' prefixed to his famous work on Ecclesiastical Polity, written
expressly against it. "A founder it had, whom, for mine own part, I think
incomparably the wisest man that ever the French (protestant) church, did
enjoy, since the hour it enjoyed him. His bringing up was in the civil law.
Divine knowledge he gathered, not by hearing or reading, so much as by
teaching others. For thousands were debtors to him, as touching knowledge
in that kind, yet he to none, but only to God, the author of that most blessed
fountain the Book of Life, and of the admirable dexterity of wit, together
with the helps of other learning, which were his guides. Two things of
principal moment there are, which have deservedly procured him honour
throughout the world; the one, his exceeding pains in composing the
institutions of the christian religion; this other, his no less industrious
travels for the exposition of holy scripture, according to the same
institutions. In which two things, whosoever they were that after him
bestowed their labour, he gained the advantage, of prejudice against them if
they gainsayed, and of glory above them if they consented. Of what
account the Master of Sentences was in the church of Rome, the same, and
more, among the preachers of the reformed churches, Calvin had
purchased; so that the perfectest divines were judged they who were
skilfulest in Calvin's writings; his books being almost the very canon to
judge both doctrine and discipline by."
"The celebrated Dean Swift, in a sermon preached on what tories and high
churchmen in England, have styled, "the martyrdom of king Charles I."
makes the following statements:--Upon the cruel persecution raised against
the protestants under queen Mary, among great numbers who fled the
kingdom to seek for shelter, several went and resided at Geneva, which is a
commonwealth, governed without a king, where the religion contrived by
Calvin is without the order of bishops. When the protestant faith was
restored by queen Elizabeth, those who fled to Geneva returned, among the
rest, home to England, and were grown so fond of the government and
religion of the place they had left, that they used all possible endeavours to
introduce both into their own country; at the same time continually
preaching and railing against ceremonies and distinct habits of the clergy,
taxing whatever they disliked as a remnant of popery; and continued
exceedingly troublesome to the church and state, under that great queen, as
well as her successor, king James I. These people called themselves
puritans, as pretending to a purer faith than those of the established church.
And these were the founders of our dissenters. They did not think it
sufficient to leave all the errors of popery; but threw off many laudable and
edifying institutions of the primitive church, and at last even the
government of bishops, which, having been ordained by the apostles
themselves, had continued without interruption, in all christian churches,
for above fifteen hundred years. And all this they did, not because those
things were evil, but because they were kept by the papists. From hence
they proceeded, by degrees, to quarrel with the kingly government,
CHAPTER XXII. 675
because, as I have already said, the city of Geneva, to which their fathers
had flown for refuge, was a commonwealth, or government of the people."
Having thus stated the foundation and principles of puritanism, the Dean
proceeds with an account of its growth till the breaking out of the civil war,
and concludes the narrative as follows: "That odious parliament had early
turned the bishops out of the House of Lords, in a few years after they
murdered their king; then immediately abolished the whole House of
Lords; and so, at last obtained their wishes of having a government of the
people, and a new religion, both after the manner of Geneva, without a
king, a bishop, or a nobleman; and this they blasphemously called, 'The
kingdom of Christ and His Saints.'"
"In the same way, Dryden traced the origin of republicanism in England, as
appears from his political poem called the Hind and the Panther; in which
he characterizes the Romish church under the name of the Hind, the
English church under that of the Panther, and the Presbyterian under that of
the Wolf. In the following extract, the 'kennel' means the city of Geneva;
the 'puddle' its lake, and the 'wall' its rampart.
"The last of all the litter scap'd by chance, And from Geneva first invested
France. Some authors thus his pedigree will trace; But others write him of
an upstart race, Because of Wickliffe's brood no mark he brings But his
innate antipathy to kings.
*****
What though your native kennel still be small, Bounded betwixt a puddle
and a wall? Yet your victorious colonies are sent, Where the north ocean
girds the continent. Quicken'd with fire below, your monster's breed, In
fenny Holland, and in fruitful Tweed; And like the first, the last effects to
be Drawn to the dregs of a democracy.
*****
But as the poisons of the deadliest kind Are to their own unhappy coasts
confined, So Presbyt'ry and pestilential zeal, Can only flourish in a
CHAPTER XXII. 676
COMMONWEAL."
John Fox, was born at Boston, in Lincolnshire, in 1517, where his parents
are stated to have lived in respectable circumstances. He was deprived of
his father at an early age; and notwithstanding his mother soon married
again, he still remained under the parental roof. From an early display of
talents and inclination to learning, his friends were induced to send him to
Oxford, in order to cultivate and bring them to maturity. During his
residence at this place, he was distinguished for the excellence and
acuteness of his intellect, which was improved by the emulation of his
fellow-collegians, united to an indefatigable 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 accounted a great honour in the university, and seldom
bestowed unless in cases of great distinction. It appears that the first display
of his genius 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 applied
himself with more fervency than circumspection, and discovered his
partiality to the reformation, which had then commenced, before he was
known to its supporters, or to those who protected them; a circumstance
which proved to him the source of his first troubles.
He is said to have often affirmed, that the first matter which occasioned his
search into the popish doctrine, was, that he saw divers things, most
repugnant in their nature to one another, forced upon men at the same time;
upon this foundation his resolution and intended obedience to that church
were somewhat shaken, and by degrees a dislike to the rest took place.
His first care was to look into both the ancient and modern history of the
church; to ascertain its beginning and progress; to consider the causes of all
those controversies which in the meantime had sprung up, and diligently to
weigh their effects, solidity, infirmities, &c.
CHAPTER XXII. 677
Before he had attained his thirtieth year, he had studied the Greek and Latin
fathers, and other learned authors, the transactions of the councils, and
decrees of the consistories, and had acquired a very competent skill in the
Hebrew language. In these occupations, he frequently spent a considerable
part, or even the whole of the night, and in order to unbend his mind after
such incessant study, he would resort to a grove near the college, a place
much frequented by the students in the evening, on account of its
sequestered gloominess. In these solitary walks, he has been heard to
ejaculate heavy sobs and 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 a heretic, and expelled.
His friends, upon the report of this circumstance, were highly offended, and
especially his father-in-law, who was now grown altogether implacable,
either through a real hatred conceived against him for this cause, or
pretending himself aggrieved, that he might now, with more show of
justice, or at least with more security, withhold from Mr. Fox his paternal
estate; for he knew it could not be safe for one publicly hated, and in
danger of the law, to seek a remedy for his injustice.
When he was thus forsaken by his own friends, a refuge offered itself in the
house of Sir Thomas Lucy, of Warwickshire, by whom he was sent for to
instruct his children. In this house he afterwards married. But the fear of the
popish inquisitors hastened his departure thence; as they were not contented
to pursue public offences, but began 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 inconvenience, and resolved either to go to his wife's
father or to his father in-law.
His wife's father was a citizen of Coventry, whose heart was not alienated
from him, and he was more likely to be well entreated, for his daughter's
sake. He resolved first to go to him; and, in the meanwhile, by letters, to try
whether his father-in-law would receive him or not. This he accordingly
CHAPTER XXII. 678
did, and he received for answer, "that it seemed to him a hard condition to
take one into his house whom he knew to be guilty and condemned for a
capital offence; neither was he ignorant what hazard he should undergo in
so doing; he would, however, show himself a kinsman, and neglect his own
danger." If he would alter his mind, he might come, on condition to stay as
long as he himself desired; but if he could not be persuaded to that, he must
content himself with a shorter stay, and not bring him and his mother into
danger.
By these means he kept himself concealed for some time, and afterwards
made a journey to London, in the latter part of the reign of Henry, VIII.
Here, being unknown, he was in much distress, and was even reduced to
the danger of being starved to death, had not Providence interfered in his
favour in the following manner:
One day as Mr. Fox was sitting in St. Paul's church, exhausted with long
fasting, a stranger took a seat by his side, and courteously saluted him,
thrust a sum of money into his hand, and bade him cheer up his spirits; at
the same time informing him, that in a few days new prospects would
present themselves for his future subsistence. Who this stranger was, he
could never learn, but at the end of three days he received an invitation
from the dutchess of Richmond to undertake the tuition of the children of
the earl of Surry who, together with his father, the duke of Norfolk, was
imprisoned in the Tower, by the jealousy and ingratitude of the king. The
children thus confided to his care were, Thomas, who succeeded to the
dukedom; Henry, afterwards earl of Northampton; and Jane who became
countess to Westmoreland. In the performance of his duties, he fully
satisfied the expectations of the dutchess, their aunt.
CHAPTER XXII. 679
These halcyon days continued during the latter part of the reign of Henry
VIII. and the five years of the reign of Edward VI. till Mary came to the
crown, who, soon after her accession, gave all power into the hands of the
papists.
At this time Mr. Fox, who was still under the protection of his noble pupil,
the duke, began to excite the envy and hatred of many, particularly Dr.
Gardiner, then bishop of Winchester, who in the sequel became his most
violent enemy.
Mr. Fox, aware of this, and seeing the dreadful persecutions then
commencing, began to think of quitting the kingdom. As soon as the duke
knew his intention, he endeavoured to persuade him to remain; and his
arguments were so powerful, and given with so much sincerity, that he
gave up the thought of abandoning his asylum for the present.
At that time the bishop of Winchester was very intimate with the duke (by
the patronage of whose family he had risen to the dignity he then enjoyed,)
and frequently waited on him to present his 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. Fox, not knowing the bishop was in the house,
entered the room where the duke and he were in discourse; and seeing the
bishop, withdrew. Gardiner asked who that was; the duke answered, "his
physician, who was somewhat uncourtly, as being new come from the
university." "I like his countenance and aspect very well," replied the
bishop "and when occasion offers, I will send for him." The duke
understood that speech as the messenger of some approaching danger; and
now himself thought it high time for Mr. Fox to quit the city, and even the
country. He accordingly caused every thing necessary for his flight to be
provided in silence, by sending one of his servants to Ipswich to hire a
bark, and prepare all the requisites for his departure. He also fixed on the
house of one of his servants, who was a farmer, where he might lodge till
the wind became favourable; and every thing being in readiness, Mr. Fox
took leave of his noble patron, and with his wife, who was pregnant at the
time, secretly departed for the ship.
CHAPTER XXII. 680
The vessel was scarcely under sail, when a most violent storm came on,
which lasted all day and night, and the next day drove them back to the port
from which they had departed. During the time that the vessel had been at
sea, an officer, despatched by the bishop of Winchester, had broken open
the house of the farmer with a warrant to apprehend Mr. Fox wherever he
might be found, and bring him back to the city. On hearing this news he
hired a horse, under the pretence of leaving the town immediately; but
secretly returned the same night, and agreed with the captain of the vessel
to sail for any place as soon as the wind should shift, only desiring him to
proceed, and not to doubt that God would prosper his undertaking. The
mariner suffered himself to be persuaded, and within two days landed his
passengers in safety at Nieuport.
After spending a few days in that place, Mr. Fox set out for Basle, where he
found a number of English refugees, who had quitted their country to avoid
the cruelty of the persecutors, with these he associated, 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.
Nor did the good man's successes stop here. On being recommended to the
queen by her secretary of state, the great Cecil, her majesty granted him the
prebendary of Shipton, in the cathedral of Salisbury, which was in a
manner forced upon him; for it was with difficulty that he could be
persuaded to accept it.
CHAPTER XXII. 681
Of the esteem in which he was held, the names of the following respectable
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 enjoyed the patronage
of the earls of Bedford and Warwick, and the intimate friendship of Sir
Francis Walsingham, (secretary of state,) Sir Thomas, and Mr. Michael
Hennage, of whom he was 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 affectionate terms with Sir Drue Drury, Sir
Francis Drake, Dr. Grindal, archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Elmar, bishop of
London, Dr. Pilkington, bishop of Durham, and Dr. Nowell, dean of St.
Paul's. Others of his most intimate acquaintances and friends were, Doctors
Umphrey, 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. &c.
At length, having long served both the church and the world by his
ministry, by his pen, and by the unsullied lustre of a benevolent useful, and
holy life, he meekly resigned his soul to Christ, on the 18th of April, 1587,
being then in the seventieth year of his age. He was interred in the chancel
of St Giles', 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 two sons from
home, though he loved them with great tenderness; and before they
returned, his spirit, as he had foreseen would be the case, had flown to
heaven.
His death occasioned great lamentations throughout the city, and his funeral
was honoured with a great concourse of people, each of whom appeared to
bewail the loss of a father or a brother.
CHAPTER XXII. 683
CRUEL MAXIMS.] Papists hold that heretics may not be termed children
and kindred; that no faith is to be kept with heretics; and that it is lawful to
torture or kill them for the good of their souls.
CHAPTER XXIII. 687
CHAPTER XXIII.
The design of those who were the primary agents in originating the causes
of the French Revolution, was the utter subversion of the christian religion.
Voltaire, the leader in this crusade against religion, boasted that "with one
hand he would pull down, what took twelve Apostles to build up." The
motto on the seal of his letters was, "Crush the wretch," having reference to
Jesus Christ, and the system of religion, which he promulgated. To effect
his object he wrote and published a great variety of infidel tracts,
containing the most licentious sentiments and the most blasphemous attacks
upon the religion of the Bible. Innumerable copies of these tracts were
printed, and gratuitously circulated in France and other countries. As they
were adapted to the capacity of all classes of persons, they were eagerly
sought after, and read with avidity. The doctrines inculcated in them were
subversive of every principle of morality and religion. The everlasting
distinctions between virtue and vice, were completely broken down.
Marriage was ridiculed--obedience to parents treated as the most abject
slavery--subordination to civil government, the most odious despotism--and
the acknowledgement of a God, the height of folly and absurdity. Deeply
tinged with such sentiments, the revolution of 1789, found the popular
mind in France prepared for all the atrocities which followed. The public
conscience had become so perverted, that scenes of treachery, cruelty and
blood were regarded with indifference, and sometimes excited the most
unbounded applause in the spectators. Such a change had been effected in
the French character, by the propagation of Infidel and Atheistical opinions,
"that from being one of the most light hearted and kind tempered of
nations," says Scott, "the French seemed upon the revolution to have been
animated, not merely with the courage, but with the rabid fury of wild
beasts." When the Bastile was stormed "Fouton and Berthier, two
individuals whom they considered as enemies of the people, were put to
death, with circumstances of cruelty and insult fitting only at the death
stake of an Indian encampment; and in imitation of literal cannibals, there
were men, or rather monsters found, not only to tear asunder, the limbs of
CHAPTER XXIII. 688
their victims, but to eat their hearts, and drink their blood."
The primary cause of the French revolution was the exile of Protestantism.
But the fall of the church was followed by the most palpable, immediate,
and ominous change. The great names of the Romish priesthood, the
vigorous literature of Bossnett, the majestic oratory of Massillon, the
pathetic and classic elegance of Fenelon, the mildest of all enthusiasts; a
race of men who towered above the genius of their country and of their
religion; passed away without a successor. In the beginning of the 18th
century, the most profligate man in France was an ecclesiastic, the Cardinal
Dubois, prime minister to the most profligate prince in Europe, the Regent
Orleans. The country was convulsed with bitter personal disputes between
Jesuit and Jansenist, fighting even to mutual persecution upon points either
beyond or beneath the human intellect. A third party stood by, unseen,
occasionally stimulating each, but equally despising both, a potential fiend,
sneering at the blind zealotry and miserable rage that were doing its
unsuspected will. Rome, that boasts of her freedom from schism should
blot the 18th century from her page.
The French mind, subtle, satirical, and delighting to turn even matters of
seriousness into ridicule, was immeasurably captivated by the true
burlesque of those disputes, the childish virulence, the extravagant
pretensions, and the still more extravagant impostures fabricated in support
CHAPTER XXIII. 689
All those men were open infidels; and their attacks on religion, such as they
saw it before them, roused the Gallican church. But the warfare was totally
unequal. The priesthood came armed with the antiquated and unwieldy
weapons of old controversy, forgotten traditions and exhausted legends.
They could have conquered them only by the bible; they fought them only
with the breviary. The histories of the saints, and the wonders of images
were but fresh food for the most overwhelming scorn. The bible itself,
which popery has always laboured to close, was brought into the contest,
and used resistlessly against the priesthood. They were contemptuously
asked, in what part of the sacred volume had they found the worship of the
Virgin, of the Saints, or of the Host? where was the privilege that conferred
Saintship at the hands of the pope? where was the prohibition of the general
use of scripture by every man who had a soul to be saved? where was the
revelation of that purgatory, from which a monk and a mass could extract a
sinner? where was the command to imprison, torture, and slay men for their
difference of opinion with an Italian priest and the college of cardinals? To
those formidable questions the clerics answered by fragments from the
fathers, angry harangues, and more legends of more miracles. They tried to
enlist the nobles and the court in a crusade. But the nobles were already
among the most zealous, though secret, converts to the Encyclopedia; and
the gentle spirit of the monarch was not to be urged into a civil war. The
threat of force only inflamed contempt into vengeance. The populace of
Paris, like all mobs, licentious, restless, and fickle; but beyond all, taking an
interest in public matters, had not been neglected by the deep designers
who saw in the quarrel of the pen the growing quarrel of the sword. The
Fronde was not yet out of their minds; the barrier days of Paris; the
municipal council which in 1648, had levied war against the government;
the mob-army which had fought, and terrified that government into
CHAPTER XXIII. 691
After passing through many scenes from the recital of which the mind turns
away with loathing and disgust, the reign of terror commenced. Previous to
this, however, there had been dreadful riots, and disorders in Paris. The
Swiss Guards had been cut to pieces, and the king and royal family
imprisoned. The priests had nearly all perished or been banished from
France. The national assembly was divided into desperate factions, which
often turned their arms against one another. When one party triumphed,
proscription followed, and the guillotine was put in requisition, and blood
flowed in torrents. The grossest irreligion likewise prevailed. Leaders of the
atheistical mob would extend their arms to heaven and dare a God, if he
existed, to vindicate his insulted majesty, and crush them with his
thunderbolts. Over the entrance of their grave yards was placed this
inscription, "DEATH AN ETERNAL SLEEP." Men who dared to think
differently from the dominant faction, were immediately executed, in
mockery, often, of all the forms of justice. The most ferocious of the
bloody factions, were the jacobins, so called from their place of meeting.
The leaders of this party were Danton, Robespierre, and Marat. They are
thus described by Scott in his life of Napoleon.
Three men of terror, whose names will long remain, we trust, unmatched in
history by those of any similar miscreants, had now the unrivalled leading
of the jacobins, and were called the Triumvirate.
Robespierre possessed this advantage over Danton, that he did not seem to
seek for wealth, either for hoarding or expending, but lived in strict and
economical retirement, to justify the name of the Incorruptible, with which
he was honoured by his partisans. He appears to have possessed little talent,
saving a deep fund of hypocrisy, considerable powers of sophistry, and a
cold exaggerated strain of oratory, as foreign to good taste, as the measures
he recommended were to ordinary humanity. It seemed wonderful, that
even the seething and boiling of the revolutionary cauldron should have
sent up from the bottom, and long supported on the surface, a thing so
miserably void of claims to public distinction; but Robespierre had to
impose on the minds of the vulgar, and he knew how to beguile them, by
accommodating his flattery to their passions and scale of understanding,
and by acts of cunning and hypocrisy, which weigh more with the
multitude than the words of eloquence, or the arguments of wisdom. The
people listened as to their Cicero, when he twanged out his apostrophes of
Pauvre Peuple, Peuple verteueux! and hastened to execute whatever came
recommended by such honied phrases, though devised by the worst of men
for the worst and most inhuman of purposes.
Vanity was Robespierre's ruling passion, and though his countenance was
the image of his mind, he was vain even of his personal appearance, and
never adopted the external habits of a sans culotte. Amongst his fellow
jacobins he was distinguished by the nicety with which his hair was
arranged and powdered; and the neatness of his dress was carefully
attended to, so as to counterbalance, if possible, the vulgarity of his person.
His apartments, though small, were elegant, and vanity had filled them with
representations of the occupant. Robespierre's picture at length hung in one
place, his miniature in another, his bust occupied a niche, and on the table
were disposed a few medallions exhibiting his head in profile. The vanity
which all this indicated was of the coldest and most selfish character, being
such as considers neglect as insult, and receives homage merely as a
CHAPTER XXIII. 693
Marat, the third of this infernal triumvirate, had attracted the attention of
the lower orders, by the violence of his sentiments in the journal which he
conducted from the commencement of the revolution, upon such principles
that it took the lead in forwarding its successive changes. His political
exhortations began and ended like the howl of a blood-hound for murder;
or, if a wolf could have written a journal, the gaunt and famished wretch
could not have ravined more eagerly for slaughter. It was blood which was
Marat's constant demand, not in drops from the breast of an individual, not
in puny streams from the slaughter of families, but blood in the profusion
of an ocean. His usual calculation of the heads which he demanded
amounted to two hundred and sixty thousand; and though he sometimes
raised it as high as three hundred thousand, it never fell beneath the smaller
number. It may be hoped, and, for the honour of human nature, we are
inclined to believe, there was a touch of insanity in this unnatural strain of
ferocity; and the wild and squalid features of the wretch appear to have
intimated a degree of alienation of mind. Marat was, like Robespierre, a
coward. Repeatedly denounced in the Assembly, he skulked instead of
defending himself, and lay concealed in some obscure garret or cellar,
among his cut-throats, until a storm appeared, when, like a bird of ill omen,
his death-screech was again heard. Such was the strange and fatal
triumvirate, in which the same degree of cannibal cruelty existed under
different aspects. Danton murdered to glut his rage; Robespierre to avenge
CHAPTER XXIII. 694
his injured vanity, or to remove a rival whom he envied! Marat, from the
same instinctive love of blood, which induces a wolf to continue his ravage
of the flocks long after his hunger is appeased.
These monsters ruled France for a time with the most despotic sway. The
most sanguinary laws were enacted--and the most vigilant system of police
maintained. Spies and informers were employed--and every murmur, and
every expression unfavourable to the ruling powers was followed with the
sentence of death and its immediate execution.
"Men," says Scott, "read Livy for the sake of discovering what degree of
private crime might be committed under the mask of public virtue. The
deed of the younger Brutus, served any man as an apology to betray to ruin
and to death, a friend or a patron, whose patriotism might not be of the
pitch which suited the time. Under the example of the elder Brutus, the
nearest ties of blood were repeatedly made to give way before the ferocity
of party zeal--a zeal too often assumed for the most infamous and selfish
purposes. As some fanatics of yore studied the old testament for the
purpose of finding examples of bad actions to vindicate those which
themselves were tempted to commit, so the republicans of France, we mean
the desperate and outrageous bigots of the revolution, read history to
justify, by classical instances, their public and private crimes. Informers,
those scourges of a state, were encouraged to a degree scarce known in
ancient Rome in the time of the emperors, though Tacitus has hurled his
thunders against them, as the poison and pest of his time. The duty of
lodging such informations was unblushingly urged as indispensable. The
safety of the republic being the supreme charge of every citizen, he was on
no account to hesitate in denouncing, as it was termed, any one
whomsoever, or howsoever connected with him,--the friend of his counsels,
or the wife of his bosom,--providing he had reason to suspect the devoted
individual of the crime of incivism,--a crime the more mysteriously
dreadful, as no one knew exactly its nature."
of all the friends of the unfortunate Louis and the constitution in the
kingdom. For this purpose, suspected persons of all ranks were collected in
the prisons and jails, and on the 2d of September, 1792, the work of death
commenced.
Massacre of Prisoners.
remark, that boldness had more influence on them than any appeal to mercy
or compassion. An avowed royalist was occasionally dismissed uninjured,
while the constitutionalists were sure to be massacred. Another trait of a
singular nature is, that two of the ruffians who were appointed to guard one
of these intended victims home in safety, as if they were acquitted, insisted
on seeing his meeting with his family, seemed to share in the transports of
the moment, and on taking leave, shook the hand of their late prisoner,
while their own were clotted with the gore of his friends, and had been just
raised to shed his own. Few, indeed, and brief, were these symptoms of
relenting. In general, the doom of the prisoner was death, and that doom
was instantly accomplished.
In the meanwhile, the captives were penned up in their dungeons like cattle
in a shambles, and in many instances might, from windows which looked
outwards, mark the fate of their comrades, hear their cries, and behold their
struggles, and learn from the horrible scene, how they might best meet their
own approaching fate. They observed, according to St. Meard, who, in his
well-named Agony of Thirty-Six Hours, has given the account of this
fearful scene, that those who intercepted the blows of the executioners, by
holding up their hands, suffered protracted torment, while those who
offered no show of struggle were more easily despatched; and they
encouraged each other to submit to their fate, in the manner least likely to
prolong their sufferings.
Many ladies, especially those belonging to the court, were thus murdered.
The Princess de Lamballe, whose only crime seems to have been her
friendship for Marie Antoinette, was literally hewn to pieces, and her head,
and that of others, paraded on pikes through the metropolis. It was carried
to the temple on that accursed weapon, the features yet beautiful in death,
and the long fair curls of the hair floating around the spear. The murderers
insisted that the King and Queen should be compelled to come to the
window to view this dreadful trophy. The municipal officers who were
upon duty over the royal prisoners, had difficulty, not merely in saving
them from this horrible inhumanity, but also in preventing their prison from
being forced. Three-coloured ribbons were extended across the street, and
this frail barrier was found sufficient to intimate that the Temple was under
CHAPTER XXIII. 697
the safeguard of the nation. We do not read that the efficiency of the
three-coloured ribbons was tried for the protection of any of the other
prisoners. No doubt the executioners had their instructions where and when
they should be respected.
The clergy, who had declined the constitutional oath from pious scruples,
were, during the massacre, the peculiar objects of insult and cruelty, and
their conduct was such as corresponded with their religious and
conscientious professions. They were seen confessing themselves to each
other, or receiving the confessions of their lay companions in misfortune,
and encouraging them to undergo the evil hour, with as much calmness as
if they had not been to share its bitterness. As protestants, we cannot
abstractedly approve of the doctrines which render the established clergy of
one country dependant upon the sovereign pontiff, the prince of an alien
state. But these priests did not make the laws for which they suffered; they
only obeyed them; and as men and christians we must regard them as
martyrs, who preferred death to what they considered as apostacy.
In the brief intervals of this dreadful butchery, which lasted four days, the
judges and executioners ate, drank, and slept: and awoke from slumber, or
arose from their meal, with fresh appetite for murder. There were places
arranged for the male, and for the female murderers, for the work had been
incomplete without the intervention of the latter. Prison after prison was
invested, entered, and under the same form of proceeding made the scene of
the same inhuman butchery. The Jacobins had reckoned on making the
massacre universal over France. But the example was not generally
followed. It required, as in the case of St. Bartholomew, the only massacre
which can be compared to this in atrocity, the excitation of a large capital,
in a violent crisis, to render such horrors possible.
The community of Paris were not in fault for this. They did all they could
to extend the sphere of murder. Their warrant brought from Orleans near
sixty persons, including the Duke de Cosse-Brissac, De Lesart the late
minister, and other royalists of distinction, who were to have been tried
before the high court of that department. A band of assassins met them, by
appointment of the community, at Versailles, who, uniting with their escort,
CHAPTER XXIII. 698
No exact account was ever made of the number of persons murdered during
this dreadful period; but not above two or three hundred of the prisoners
arrested for state offences were known to escape, or be discharged, and the
most moderate computation raises the number of those who fell to two or
three thousand, though some carry it to twice the extent. Truchod
announced to the Legislative Assembly, that four thousand had perished.
Some exertion was made to save the lives of those imprisoned for debt,
whose numbers, with those of common felons, may make up the balance
betwixt the number slain and eight thousand who were prisoners when the
massacre began. The bodies were interred in heaps, in immense trenches,
prepared beforehand by order of the community of Paris; but their bones
have since been transferred to the subterranean catacombs, which form the
general charnel-house of the city. In those melancholy regions, while other
relics of mortality lie exposed all around, the remains of those who perished
in the massacres of September, are alone secluded from the eye. The vault
in which they repose is closed with a screen of freestone, as if relating to
crimes unfit to be thought of even in the proper abode of death; and which
France would willingly hide in oblivion.
After this dreadful massacre, the Jacobins eagerly demanded the life of
Louis XVI. He was accordingly tried by the convention and condemned to
CHAPTER XXIII. 699
be beheaded.
On the 21st of January, 1793, Louis XVI. was publicly beheaded in the
midst of his own metropolis, in the Place Louis Quinze, erected to the
memory of his grandfather. It is possible, for the critical eye of the
historian, to discover much weakness in the conduct of this unhappy
monarch; for he had neither the determination to fight for his rights, nor the
power of submitting with apparent indifference to circumstances where
resistance inferred danger. He submitted, indeed, but with so bad a grace,
that he only made himself suspected of cowardice, without getting credit
for voluntary concession. But yet his behaviour on many trying occasions
effectually vindicate him from the charge of timidity, and showed that the
unwillingness to shed blood, by which he was peculiarly distinguished,
arose from benevolence, not from pusillanimity.
Upon the scaffold, he behaved with the firmness which became a noble
spirit, and the patience beseeming one who was reconciled to heaven. As
one of the few marks of sympathy with which his sufferings were softened,
the attendance of a confessor, who had not taken the constitutional oath,
was permitted to the dethroned monarch. He who undertook the honourable
but dangerous office, was a gentleman of gifted family of Edgeworth of
Edgeworthstown; and the devoted zeal with which he rendered the last
duties to Louis, had like in the issue to have proved fatal to himself. As the
instrument of death descended, the confessor pronounced the impressive
words,--"Son of Saint Louis, ascend to heaven!"
There was a last will of Louis XVI. circulated upon good authority, bearing
this remarkable passage:--"I recommend to my son, should you have the
misfortune to become king, to recollect that his whole faculties are due to
the service of the public; that he ought to consult the happiness of his
people, by governing according to the laws, forgetting all injuries and
misfortunes, and in particular those which I may have sustained. But while
I exhort him to govern under the authority of the laws, I cannot but add,
that this will be only in his power, in so far as he shall be endowed with
CHAPTER XXIII. 700
Not to mingle the fate of the illustrious victim of the royal family with the
general tale of the sufferers under the reign of terror, we must here mention
the deaths of the rest of that illustrious house, which closed for a time a
monarchy, that existing through three dynasties, had given sixty-six kings
to France.
The terms of her accusation were too basely depraved to be even hinted at
here. She scorned to reply to it, but appealed to all who had been mothers,
against the very possibility of the horrors which were stated against her.
The widow of a king, the sister of an emperor, was condemned to death,
dragged in an open tumbril to the place of execution, and beheaded on the
16th October, 1793. She suffered death in her 39th year.
chewed by herself and her attendants, to render then more fatal, to the
defenders of the castle of the Tuilleries; a ridiculous fable, of which there
was no proof whatever. She was beheaded in May, 1794, and met her death
as became the manner in which her life had been spent.
The unhappy boy was put in charge of the most hard-hearted villain whom
the community of Paris, well acquainted where such agents were to be
found, were able to select from their band of Jacobins. This wretch, a
shoemaker called Simon, asked his employers, "what was to be done with
the young wolf-whelp; Was he to be
slain?"--"No?"--"Poisoned?"--"No."--"Starved to death?"--"No." "What
then?"--"He was to be got rid of." Accordingly, by a continuance of the
most severe treatment--by beating, cold, vigils, fasts, and ill usage of every
kind, so frail a blossom was soon blighted. He died on the 8th June, 1795.
After this last horrible crime, there was a relaxation in favour of the
daughter, and now the sole child of this unhappy house. The princess royal,
whose qualities have honoured even her birth and blood, experienced from
this period a mitigated captivity. Finally, on the 19th December, 1795, this
last remaining relic of the family of Louis, was permitted to leave her
prison and her country, in exchange for La Fayette and others, whom, on
that condition, Austria delivered from captivity. She became afterwards the
wife of her cousin, the duke d'Angouleme, eldest son of the reigning
monarch of France, and obtained, by the manner in which she conducted
herself at Bourdeaux in 1815, the highest praise for gallantry and spirit.
Upwards of two hundred battles and skirmishes were fought in this devoted
country. The revolutionary fever was in its access; the shedding of blood
seemed to have become positive pleasure to the perpetrators of slaughter,
and was varied by each invention which cruelty could invent to give it new
zest. The habitations of the Vendeans were destroyed, their families
subjected to violation and massacre, their cattle houghed and slaughtered,
and their crops burnt and wasted. One republican column assumed and
merited the name of the Infernal, by the horrid atrocities which they
committed. At Pilau, they roasted the women and children in a heated oven.
Many similar horrors could be added, did not the heart and hand recoil
from the task. Without quoting any more special instances of horror, we use
the words of a republican eye witness, to express the general spectacle
presented by the theatre of public conflict.
"I did not see a single male being at the towns of St. Hermand, Chantonnay,
or Herbiers. A few women alone had escaped the sword. Country-seats,
cottages, habitations of whichever kind, were burnt. The herds and flocks
were wandering in terror around their usual places of shelter, now smoking
in ruins. I was surprised by night, but the wavering and dismal blaze of
conflagration afforded light over the country. To the bleating of the
terrified flocks, and bellowing of the terrified cattle, was joined the deep
hoarse notes of carrion crows, and the yells of wild animals coming from
the recesses of the woods to prey upon the carcasses of the slain. At length
a distant colume of fire, widening and increasing as I approached, served
me as a beacon. It was the town of Mortagne in flames. When I arrived
there, no living creatures were to be seen, save a few wretched women who
were striving to save some remnants of their property from the general
conflagration."--Les Memoires d'un Ancien Administrateur des Armees
Republicaines.
Marseilles, Toulon, and Lyons, had declared themselves against the Jacobin
supremacy. Rich from commerce and their maratime situation, and, in the
case of Lyons, from their command of internal navigation, the wealthy
merchants and manufacturers of those cities foresaw the total insecurity of
property, and in consequence of their own ruin, in the system of arbitrary
spoliation and murder upon which the government of the Jacobins was
founded. But property, for which they were solicitous, though, if its natural
force is used in time, the most powerful barrier to withstand revolution,
becomes, after a certain period of delay, its helpless victim. If the rich are
in due season liberal of their means, they have the power of enlisting in
their cause, and as adherents, those among the lower orders, who, if they
see their superiors dejected and despairing, will be tempted to consider
them as objects of plunder. But this must be done early, or those who might
be made the most active defenders of property, will join with such as are
prepared to make a prey of it.
Marseilles showed at once her good will and her impotency of means. The
utmost exertions of that wealthy city, whose revolutionary band had
contributed so much to the downfall of the monarchy in the attack on the
Tuilleries, were able to equip only a small and doubtful army of about 3000
men, who were despatched to the relief of Lyons. This inconsiderable army
threw themselves into Avignon, and were defeated with the utmost ease, by
the republican general Cartaux, despicable as a military officer, and whose
forces would not have stood a single engaillement of Vendean
sharp-shooters. Marseilles received the victors, and bowed her head to the
subsequent horrors which it pleased Cartaux, with two formidable Jacobins,
Barras and Ferron, to inflict on that flourishing city. The place underwent
the usual terrors of Jacobin purifaction, and was for a time affectedly called
"nameless commune."
Lyons made a more honourable stand. That noble city had been subjected
for some time to the domination of Chalier, one of the most ferocious, and
at the same time one of the most extravagantly absurd, of the Jacobins. He
was at the head of a formidable club, which was worthy of being affiliated
with the mother society, and ambitious of treading in its footsteps; and he
was supported by a garrison of two revolutionary regiments, besides a
CHAPTER XXIII. 704
But ere he could execute his threat, terror was awakened into the courage of
despair. The citizens rose in arms and besieged the Hotel de Ville, in which
Chalier, with his revolutionary troops, made a desperate, and for some time
a successful, yet ultimately a vain defence. But the Lyonnois unhappily
knew not how to avail themselves of their triumph. They were not
sufficiently aware of the nature of the vengeance which they had provoked,
or of the necessity of supporting the bold step which they had taken, by
measures which precluded a compromise. Their resistance to the violence
and atrocity of the Jacobins had no political character, any more than that
offered by the traveller against robbers who threaten him with plunder and
murder. They were not sufficiently aware, that, having done so much, they
must necessarily do more. They ought, by declaring themselves royalists, to
have endeavoured to prevail on the troops of Savoy, if not on the Swiss,
(who had embraced a species of neutrality, which, after the 10th of August,
was dishonourable to their ancient reputation,) to send in all haste, soldiery
CHAPTER XXIII. 705
But their fate was determined. The deputies announced to the convention
their purpose of pouring their instruments of havoc on every quarter of the
town at once, and when it was on fire in several places, to attempt a general
storm. "The city," they said, "must surrender, or there shall not remain one
stone upon another, and this we hope to accomplish in spite of the
suggestions of false compassion. Do not then be surprised when you hear
that Lyons exists no longer." The fury of the attack threatened to make
good these promises.
The parylitic Couthon, with Collot D'Herbois, and other deputies were sent
to Lyons by the committee of public safety, to execute the vengeance which
the Jacobins demanded; while Dubois Crance was recalled, for having put,
it was thought, less energy to his proceedings than the prosecution of the
siege required. Collot D'Herbois had a personal motive of a singular nature
for delighting in the task intrusted to him and his colleagues. In his capacity
of a play-actor, he had been hissed from the stage at Lyons, and the door to
revenge was now open. The instructions of this committee enjoined them to
take the most satisfactory revenge for the death of Chalier and the
insurrection of Lyons, not merely on the citizens, but on the town itself.
The principal streets and buildings were to be levelled with the ground, and
a monument erected where they stood, was to record the cause:--"Lyons
rebelled against the Republic--Lyons is no more." Such fragments of the
town as might be permitted to remain, were to bear the name of Ville
Affranchie. It will scarce be believed that a doom like that which might
CHAPTER XXIII. 708
have passed the lips of some eastern despot, in all the frantic madness of
arbitrary power and utter ignorance, could have been seriously pronounced,
and as seriously enforced, in one of the most civilized nations in Europe;
and that to the present enlightened age, men who pretended to wisdom and
philosophy, should have considered the labours of the architect as a proper
subject of punishment. So it was, however; and to give the demolition more
effect, the impotent Couthon was carried from house to house, devoting
each to ruin, by striking the door with a silver hammer, and pronouncing
these words--"House of a rebel. I condemn thee in the name of the law."
Workmen followed in great multitudes, who executed the sentence by
pulling the house down to the foundations. This wanton demolition
continued for six months, and is said to have been carried on at an expense
equal to that which the superb military hospital, the Hotel des Invalides,
cost its founder, Louis XIV. But republican vengeance did not waste itself
exclusively upon senseless lime and stone--it sought out sentient victims.
to Toulon, then also in a state of revolt. But the sullen stream rejected the
office imposed on it, and headed back the dead in heaps upon the banks;
and the committee of Representatives was compelled at length to allow the
relics of their cruelty to be interred, to prevent the risk of contagion.
At length the zeal of the infuriated Atheists in France hurried them to the
perpetration of one of the most ridiculous, and at the same time impious
transactions which ever disgraced the annals of any nation. It was no less
than a formal renunciation of the existence of a Supreme Being, and the
installation of the Goddess of Reason, in 1793.
It is said that the leaders of the scene had some difficulty in inducing the
bishop to comply with the task assigned him, which, after all, he executed,
not without present tears and subsequent remorse. But he did play the part
prescribed. He was brought forward in full procession, to declare to the
CHAPTER XXIII. 710
convention, that the religion which he had taught so many years, was, in
every respect, a piece of priestcraft, which had no foundation either in
history or sacred truth. He disowned, in solemn and explicit terms, the
existence of the Deity to whose worship he had been consecrated, and
devoted himself in future to the homage of liberty, equality, virtue, and
morality. He then laid on the table his episcopal decorations, and received a
fraternal embrace from the president of the convention. Several apostate
priests followed the example of this prelate.
The gold and silver plate of the churches was seized upon and desecrated,
processions entered the convention, travestied in priestly garments, and
singing the most profane hymns; while many of the chalices and sacred
vessels were applied by Chaumette and Hebert to the celebration of their
own impious orgies. The world for the first time, heard an assembly of
men, born and educated in civilization, and assuming the right to govern
one of the finest of the European nations, uplift their united voice to deny
the most solemn truth which man's soul receives, and renounce
unanimously the belief and worship of a Deity. For a short time the same
mad profanity continued to be acted upon.
One of the ceremonies of this insane time stands unrivalled for absurdity,
combined with impiety. The doors of the convention were thrown open to a
band of musicians; preceded by whom, the members of the municipal body
entered in solemn procession, singing a hymn in praise of liberty, and
escorting, as the object of their future worship, a veiled female, whom they
termed the Goddess of Reason. Being brought within the bar, she was
unveiled with great form, and placed on the right hand of the president;
when she was generally recognized as a dancing-girl of the opera, with
whose charms most of the persons present were acquainted from her
appearance on the stage, while the experience of individuals was farther
extended. To this person, as the fittest representative of that reason whom
they worshipped the national convention of France rendered public
homage.
This impious and ridiculous mummery had a certain fashion; and the
installation of the Goddess of reason was renewed and imitated throughout
CHAPTER XXIII. 711
the nation, in such places where the inhabitants desired to show themselves
equal to all the heights of the revolution. The churches were, in most
districts of France, closed against priests and worshippers--the bells were
broken and cast into cannon--the whole ecclesiastical establishment
destroyed--and the republican inscription over the cemeteries, declaring
death to be perpetual sleep, announced to those who lived under that
dominion, that they were to hope no redress even in the next world.
Intimately connected with these laws affecting religion, was that which
reduced the union of marriage, the most sacred engagement which human
beings can form, and the permanence of which leads most strongly to the
consolidation of society, to the state of a mere civil contract of a transitory
character, which any two persons might engage in, and cast loose at
pleasure, when their taste was changed, or their appetite gratified. If fiends
had set themselves to work, to discover a mode of most effectually
destroying whatever is venerable, graceful, or permanent in domestic life,
and of obtaining at the same time an assurance that the mischief which it
was their object to create should be perpetuated from one generation to
another, they could not have invented a more effectual plan than the
degradation of marriage into a state of mere occasional co-habitation, or
licensed concubinage. Sophie Arnoult, an actress famous for the witty
things she said, described the republican marriage as the sacrament of
adultery.
These monsters fell victims by the same means they had used for the
destruction of others. Marat was poignarded in 1793, by Charlotte Corday,
a young female, who had cherished in a feeling between lunacy and
heroism, the ambition of ridding the world of a tyrant. Danton was
guillotined in 1794. Robespierre followed soon after. His fall is thus
described by Scott in his life of Napoleon.
poignard the tyrant on the spot, had they not been afraid of the popularity
he was supposed to enjoy, and which they feared might render them instant
victims to the revenge of the Jacobins. The speech which Robespierre
addressed to the convention was as menacing as the first distant rustle of
the hurricane, and dark and lurid as the eclipse which announces its
approach. Anxious murmurs had been heard among the populace who filled
the tribunes, or crowded the entrances of the hall of the convention,
indicating that a second 31st of May (being the day on which the Jacobins
proscribed the Girondists) was about to witness a similar operation.
The first theme of the gloomy orator was the display of his own virtues and
his services as a patriot, distinguishing as enemies to their country all
whose opinions were contrary to his own. He then reviewed successively
the various departments of the government, and loaded them in turn with
censure and contempt. He declaimed against the supineness of the
committees of public safety and public security, as if the guillotine had
never been in exercise; and he accused the committee of finance of having
counter-revolutionized the revenues of the republic. He enlarged with no
less bitterness on withdrawing the artillery-men (always violent Jacobins)
from Paris, and on the mode of management adopted in the conquered
countries of Belgium. It seemed as if he wished to collect within the same
lists all the functionaries of the state, and in the same breath to utter
defiance to them all.
The usual honorary motion was made to print the discourse; but then the
storm of opposition broke forth, and many speakers vociferously
demanded, that before so far adopting the grave inculpations which it
contained, the discourse should be referred to the two committees.
Robespierre in his turn, exclaimed, that this was subjecting his speech to
the partial criticism and revision of the very parties whom he had accused.
Exculpations and defences were heard on all sides against the charges
which had been thus sweepingly brought forward; and there were many
deputies who complained in no obscure terms of individual tyranny, and of
a conspiracy on foot to outlaw and murder such part of the convention as
might be disposed to offer resistance. Robespierre was but feebly
supported, save by Saint Just, Couthon, and by his own brother. After a
CHAPTER XXIII. 713
Payan, the successor of Hebert, actually proposed that the Jacobins should
instantly march against the two committees, which Robespierre charged
with being the focus of the anti-revolutionary machinations, surprise their
handful of guards, and stifle the evil with which the state was menaced,
even in the very cradle. This plan was deemed too hazardous to be adopted,
although it was one of those sudden and master strokes of policy which
Machiavel would have recommended. The fire of the Jacobins spent itself
in tumult, and threatening, and in expelling from the bosom of their society
CHAPTER XXIII. 714
Collot d'Herbois, Tallien, and about thirty other deputies of the mountain
party, whom they considered as specially leagued to effect the downfall of
Robespierre, and whom they drove from their society with execration and
even blows.
Collot d'Herbois, thus outraged, went straight from the meeting of the
Jacobins to the place where the committee of public safety was still sitting,
in consultation on the report which they had to make to the convention the
next day upon the speech of Robespierre. Saint Just, one of their number,
though warmly attached to the dictator, had been intrusted by the
committee with the delicate task of drawing up that report. It was a step
towards reconciliation; but the entrance of Collot d'Herbois, frantic with the
insults he had received, broke off all hope of accommodation betwixt the
friends of Danton and those of Robespierre. D'Herbois exhausted himself in
threats against Saint Just, Couthon, and their master, Robespierre, and they
parted on terms of mortal and avowed enmity. Every exertion now was
used by the associated conspirators against the power of Robespierre, to
collect and combine against him the whole forces of the convention, to
alarm the deputies of the plain with fears for themselves, and to awaken the
rage of the mountaineers, against whose throat the dictator now waved the
sword, which their short sighted policy had placed in his hands. Lists of
proscribed deputies were handed around, said to have been copied from the
tablets of the dictator; genuine or false, they obtained universal credit and
currency; and these whose names stood on the fatal scrolls, engaged
themselves for protection in the league against their enemy. The opinion
that his fall could not be delayed now became general.
On this eventful day, Robespierre arrived in the convention, and beheld the
mountain in close array and completely manned, while, as in the case of
Catiline, the bench on which he himself was accustomed to sit, seemed
purposely deserted. Saint Just, Couthon, Le Bas (his brother-in-law,) and
the younger Robespierre, were the only deputies of name who stood
prepared to support him. But could he make an effectual struggle, he might
depend upon the aid of the servile Barrere, a sort of Belial in the
convention, the meanest, yet not the least able, amongst those fallen spirits,
who, with great adroitness and ingenuity, as well as wit and eloquence,
caught opportunities as they arose, and was eminently dexterous in being
always strong upon the strongest, and safe upon the safest side. There was a
tolerably numerous party ready, in times so dangerous, to attach themselves
to Barrere, as a leader who professed to guide them to safety if not to
honour; and it was the existence of this vacillating and uncertain body,
whose ultimate motions could never be calculated upon, which rendered it
impossible to presage with assurance the event of any debate in the
convention during this dangerous period.
Saint Just arose, in the name of the committee of public safety, to make,
after his own manner, not theirs, a report on the discourse of Robespierre
on the previous evening. He had begun a harangue in the tone of his patron,
declaring that, were the tribune which he occupied the Tarpeian rock itself,
he would not the less, placed as he stood there, discharge the duties of a
patriot. "I am about," he said, "to lift the veil."--"I tear it asunder," said
Tallien, interrupting him. "The public interest is sacrificed by individuals,
who come hither exclusively in their own name, and conduct themselves as
superior to the whole convention." He forced Saint Just from the tribune,
and a violent debate ensued.
Billaud Varennes called the attention of the assembly to the sitting of the
Jacobin club on the preceding evening. He declared the military force of
Paris was placed under the command of Henriot, a traitor and a parricide,
who was ready to march the soldiers whom he commanded, against the
convention. He denounced Robespierre himself as a second Catiline, artful
CHAPTER XXIII. 716
This scene was dreadful; yet not without its use to those who may be
disposed to look at it as an extraordinary crisis, in which human passions
were brought so singularly into collision. While the vaults of the hall
echoed with exclamations from those who had hitherto been the
accomplices, the flatterers, the followers, at least the timid and overawed
assentors to the dethroned demagogue--he himself, breathless, foaming,
exhausted, like the hunter of classical antiquity when on the point of being
overpowered and torn to pieces by his own hounds, tried in vain to raise
those screech-owl notes, by which the convention had formerly been
terrified and put to silence. He appealed for a hearing from the president of
the assembly, to the various parties of which it was composed. Rejected by
the mountaineers, his former associates, who now headed the clamour
against him, he applied to the Girondists, few and feeble as they were, and
to the more numerous but equally helpless deputies of the plain, with whom
they sheltered. The former shook him from them with disgust, the last with
CHAPTER XXIII. 717
horror. It was in vain he reminded individuals that he had spared their lives,
while at his mercy. This might have been applied to every member in the
house; to every man in France; for who was it during two years that had
lived on other terms than under Robespierre's permission? and deeply must
he internally have regretted the clemency, as he might term it, which had
left so many with ungashed throats to bay at him. But his agitated and
repeated appeals were repulsed by some with indignation, by others with
sullen, or embarrassed and timid silence.
A British historian might say, that even Robespierre ought to have been
heard in his defence; and that such calmness would have done honour to the
convention, and dignified their final sentence of condemnation. As it was,
they no doubt treated the guilty individual according to his deserts: but they
fell short of that regularity and manly staidness of conduct which was due
to themselves and to the law, and which would have given to the
punishment of the demagogue the effect and weight of a solemn and
deliberate sentence, in place of its seeming the result of the hasty and
precipitate seizure of a temporary advantage.
Haste was, however, necessary, and must have appeared more so at such a
crisis, than perhaps it really was. Much must be pardoned to the terrors of
the moment, the horrid character of the culprit, and the necessity of
hurrying to a decisive conclusion. We have been told that his last audible
words, contending against the exclamations of hundreds, and the bell which
the president was ringing incessantly, had uttered in the highest tones
which despair could give to a voice naturally shrill and discordant, dwelt
long on the memory, and haunted the dreams of many who heard
him:--"President of assassins," he screamed, "for the last time I demand
privilege of speech!" After this exertion, his breath became short and faint;
and while he still uttered broken murmurs and hoarse ejaculations, the
members of the mountain called out, that the blood of Danton choked his
voice.
his conduct then, and subsequently, showed more energy than that of the
others. Couthon hugging in his bosom the spaniel upon which he was wont
to exhaust the overflowing of his affected sensibility, appealed to his
decrepitude, and asked whether, maimed of proportion and activity as he
was, he could be suspected of nourishing plans of violence or ambition.
"Wretch," said Legendre, "thou hast the strength of Hercules for the
perpetration of crime." Dumas, president of the revolutionary tribunal, with
Henriot, commandant of the national guards, and other satellites of
Robespierre, were included in the doom of arrest.
The convention had declared their sitting permanent, and had taken all
precautions for appealing for protection to the large mass of citizens, who,
wearied out by the reign of terror, were desirous to close it at all hazards.
They quickly had deputations from several of the neighbouring sections,
declaring their adherence to the national representatives, in whose defence
they were arming, and (many undoubtedly prepared beforehand) were
marching in all haste to the protection of the convention. But they heard
also the less pleasing tidings, that Henriot, having effected the dispersion of
those citizens who had obstructed, as elsewhere mentioned, the execution
of the eighty condemned persons, and consummated that final act of
murder, was approaching the Tuilleries, where they had held their sitting,
with a numerous staff, and such of the Jacobinical forces as could hastily be
collected.
boldest competitor.
The arrested deputies had been carried from one prison to another, all the
jailers refusing to receive under their official charge Robespierre, and those
who had aided him in supplying their dark habitations with such a tide of
successive inhabitants. At length the prisoners were secured in the office of
the committee of public safety. But by this time all was in alarm amongst
the commune of Paris, where Fleuriot the mayor, and Payan the successor
of Hebert, convoked the civic body, despatched municipal officers to raise
the city and the Fauxbourgs in their name, and caused the tocsin to be rung.
Payan speedily assembled a force sufficient to liberate Henriot,
Robespierre, and the other arrested deputies, and to carry them to the Hotel
de Ville, where about two thousand men were congregated, consisting
chiefly of artillerymen, and of insurgents from the suburb of Saint Antoine,
who already expressed their resolution of marching against the convention.
But the selfish and cowardly character of Robespierre was unfit for such a
crisis. He appeared altogether confounded and overwhelmed with what had
passed and was passing around him; and not one of all the victims of the
reign of terror felt its disabling influence so completely as he, the despot
who had so long directed its sway. He had not, even though the means must
have been in his power, the presence of mind to disperse money in
considerable sums, which of itself would not have failed to insure the
support of the revolutionary rabble.
The Hotel de Ville was surrounded by about fifteen hundred men, and
cannon turned upon the doors. The force of the assailants was weakest in
point of number, but their leaders were men of spirit, and night concealed
their inferiority of force.
The deputies commissioned for the purpose read the decree of the assembly
to those whom they found assembled in front of the city hall, and they
shrunk from the attempt of defending it, some joining the assailants, others
laying down their arms and dispersing. Meantime the deserted group of
terrorists within conducted themselves like scorpions, which, when
surrounded by a circle of fire, are said to turn their stings on each other, and
on themselves. Mutual and ferocious upbraiding took place among these
miserable men. "Wretch, were these the means you promised to furnish?"
said Payan to Henriot, whom he found intoxicated and incapable of
resolution or exertion; and seizing on him as he spoke, he precipitated the
revolutionary general from a window. Henriot survived the fall only to drag
himself into a drain, in which he was afterwards discovered and brought out
to execution. The younger Robespierre threw himself from the window, but
had not the good fortune to perish on the spot. It seemed as if even the
melancholy fate of suicide, the last refuge of guilt and despair, was denied
to men who had so long refused every species of mercy to their
fellow-creatures. Le Bas alone had calmness enough to despatch himself
with a pistol shot. Saint Just, after imploring his comrades to kill him,
attempted his own life with an irresolute hand, and failed. Couthon lay
beneath the table brandishing a knife, with which he repeatedly wounded
his bosom, without daring to add force enough to reach his heart. Their
chief, Robespierre, in an unsuccessful attempt to shoot himself, had only
inflicted a horrible fracture on his under-jaw.
In this situation they were found like wolves in their lair, foul with blood,
mutilated, despairing, and yet not able to die. Robespierre lay on a table in
an anti-room, his head supported by a deal box, and his hideous
countenance half hidden by a bloody and dirty cloth bound round the
shattered chin.
CHAPTER XXIII. 721
Thus fell Maximilian Robespierre, after having been the first person in the
French republic for nearly two years, during which time he governed it
upon the principles of Nero or Caligula. His elevation to the situation which
he held, involved more contradictions than perhaps attach to any similar
event in history. A low-born and low-minded tyrant was permitted to rule
with the rod of the most frightful despotism a people, whose anxiety for
liberty had shortly before rendered them unable to endure the rule of a
humane and lawful sovereign. A dastardly coward arose to the command of
one of the bravest nations in the world; and it was under the auspices of a
man who dared scarce fire a pistol, that the greatest generals in France
began their careers of conquest. He had neither eloquence nor imagination;
but substituted in their stead a miserable, affected, bombastic style, which,
until other circumstances gave him consequence, drew on him general
ridicule. Yet against so poor an orator, all the eloquence of the
philosophical Girondists, all the terrible powers of his associate Danton,
employed in a popular assembly, could not enable them to make an
effectual resistance. It may seem trifling to mention, that in a nation where
a good deal of prepossession is excited by amiable manners and beauty of
external appearance, the person who ascended to the highest power was not
only ill-looking, but singularly mean in person, awkward and constrained in
his address, ignorant how to set about pleasing even when he most desired
to give pleasure, and as tiresome nearly as he was odious and heartless.
CHAPTER XXIII. 722
The fall of Robespierre ended the "Reign of Terror." Most of the leaders
who had acted a conspicuous part in these horrid scenes, met a doom
similar to that of their leaders. It is impossible to convey to the reader any
adequate conception of the atrocities committed in France during this
gloomy period, in the name of liberty. Men, women, and children were
involved in the massacres which took place at the instigation of the Jacobin
chiefs. Hundreds of both sexes were thrown into the Loire, and this was
called republican marriage and republican baptism. And it should never be
forgotten, that it was not till France as a nation, had denied the existence of
a Deity, and the validity of his institutions, that she was visited by such
terrible calamities. Let it be "burnt in on the memory" of every generation,
that such is the legitimate tendency of infidel opinions. They first destroy
CHAPTER XXIII. 723
the conscience--blunt the moral sense--harden the heart, and wither up all
the social and kindly affections, and then their votaries are ripe for any deed
of wickedness within the possibility of accomplishment by human agency.
It may be profitable here to record the end of several other Jacobin leaders
who had been conspicuous during these scenes of atrocity and bloodshed.
Public opinion demanded that some of the most obnoxious members should
be condemned. After hesitating for some time, at length the convention,
pressed by shame on the one side and fear on the other, saw the necessity of
some active measure, and appointed a commission to consider and report
upon the conduct of the four most obnoxious Jacobin chiefs, Collot
d'Herbois, Billaud Varennes, Vadier, and Barrere. The report was of course
unfavourable; yet upon the case being considered, the convention were
satisfied to condemn them to transportation to Cayenne. Some resistance
was offered to this sentence, so mild in proportion to what those who
underwent it had been in the habit of inflicting; but it was borne down, and
the sentence was carried into execution. Collot d'Herbois, the demolisher
and depopulator of Lyons, is said to have died in the common hospital, in
consequence of drinking off at once a whole bottle of ardent spirits. Billaud
Varennes spent his time in teaching the innocent parrots of Guiana the
frightful jargon of the revolutionary committee; and finally perished in
misery.
These men both belonged to that class of atheists, who, looking up towards
heaven, loudly and literally defied the Deity to make his existence known
by launching his thunderbolts. Miracles are not wrought on the challenge of
CHAPTER XXIII. 724
a blasphemer more than on the demand of a sceptic; but both these unhappy
men had probably before their death reason to confess, that in abandoning
the wicked to their own free will, a greater penalty results even in this life,
than if Providence had been pleased to inflict the immediate doom which
they had impiously defied.
*****
Transcriber's Notes:
Page 33, "i ine" changed to "in fine" (in fine, he was)
Page 77, word "a" was inferred and placed in text do to spacing and context
(such a procedure)
Page 80, inconsistent quotation marks were retained as original intent could
not be assertained.
Page 134, "stil kep" changed to "still kept" (and still kept)
Page 179, "ban- s hour" changed to "banish our" (banish our preachers)
Page 232, word "be" deleted from text. Original read "he be bent himself"
CHAPTER XXIII. 728
Page 235, the last four names in the article "Rev. T. Whittle, B. Green, T.
Brown" do not match the names used in the article. As each was used only
once, this was retained as author's intent could not be ascertained.
Page 248, "Asking" changed to "Askin" (Askin and one John Guin)
Page 300, deleted repeated word "words". Original read "such words words
fell"
Page 314, word "to" inserted into text (to his master)
Page 321, duplicate word "in" deleted. Original read: "evening in in the
city"
Page 341, word "any" inserted into text (that any person)
Page 386, word "but" presumed due to smudged text. (but when I)
Page 386, word "the" presumed due to smudged text. (merely the gospel)
Page 387, word "then" presumed due to smudged text. (and then there)
Page 399, Footnote: word "a" inserted into text (to a distance)
Page 406, the word "excellent" is presumed as the text was smudged. (a
more excellent)
Page 408, repeated word "the" deleted. Original read: "or the the palace"
Page 419, "enter d th" changed to "entered the" (entered the garden)
Page 481, word "in" inserted into text (in all christian)
Page 499, repeated word "Louis" was deleted. Original text reads: "will of
Louis Louis XVI."
Page 511, "l o" changed to "also" (also on the day destined)
CHAPTER XXIII. 732
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