The Year 1581

EVERARD HANSE, Priest¹

Mr. HANSE was born in Northamptonshire^ and performed his higher studies in the University of Cambridge made a minister, and promoted to a good fat benefice. ‘ But, by God’s great providence and mercy towards him,’ [he had not been above two or three years in that state, before] he fell into a grievous sickness, in which, as well by that chastisement, as by some special miraculous admonitions from above, he began to consider of his former life, and the damnable state, and function he was in. Whereupon, calling for a Catholic priest, [the manuscript says it was his own brother, William Hanse, who was a priest of Doway College, with whom before he had many disputes,] he reconciled himself to the Church, forsook the ministry, abandoned his wrongfully-begotten benefice, and so passed over to Rhemes. Where having lived near two years in most zealous and studious sort, and being by that time, through continual exercise, well instructed in cases of conscience and all duties of priesthood, he was, for the unspeakable desire he had to gain others, but especially some of his dearest friends, to the unity of the Church and salvation, much moved to be made a priest and to return home.

‘ He had his intent, [being made priest March 25, 1581, by the Bishop of Chalons, in the Church of the Blessed Virgin, with ten others of the same College. He said his first Mass on the 2d of April of the same year, and was sent upon the mission on the 24th of the same month, in company of Mr. Freeman, Mr. Finglie, and Mr. Henry Clinch.

Mr. Hanse being therefore now lawfully sent,] came into England; where he had not been long, when venturing one day to visit certain prisoners in the Marshalsea, he was there apprehended [upon suspicion of his being a priest;] and being examined by an officer what he was and from whence he came, he without more ado confessed boldly himself to be a Catholic, and a priest of the Seminary of Rhemes', whereupon he was cast into Newgate amongst thieves, and loaded with irons. And a few days after, when the jail delivery of that prison was holden, he was brought to the bar, July the 28th, where Mr. Fleetwood^ the Recorder, sitting in judgment, asked him where he was made priest, what was the cause of his coming into England, and the like. The man of God, without fear or dissimulation, told him. That the cause of his return was to gain souls ^ and that he was made priest at Rhemes.

‘ Recorder. — Then you are a subject to the Pope?

‘ Mr. Hanse. — So I am, sir.

‘ Recorder. — Then the Pope hath some superiority over you?

‘ Mr. Hanse. — That is true.

‘ Recorder. — What! in England?

‘ Mr. Hanse. — Yea, in England; for he hath as much authority and right in spiritual government in this realm as ever he had, and as much as he hath in any other country, or in Rome itself.

‘ Upon which most plain and sincere confession, the heretics (as their fashion is to falsify all things, and, by contrived slanders, to make the servants of God odious) gave out afterwards in print, that he should say That princes had not any supremacy or sovereignty in their own realms, but the Pope only; which was far from his and every Catholic man’s mind. But upon his former answer, to bring him by course of questions into the compass of some of their new statutes of treason, they asked him further, whether he thought the Pope could not err; to which, though he expressly answered. That in life and manners he might offend, as also err in his private doctrine or writing; but that in judicial definitions, and in deciding matters of controversy, he did never err, this plain speech notwithstanding, the enemies gave out that he should say. The Pope could not sin.

‘ Then they proceeded with him further, and demanded whether the Pope had not judicially proceeded in the deposition of the Queen. And thereupon they read a piece of the bull of Pius Quintus, those words especially in which he declared her to be a heretic and a fautor of heretics, and deprived her of all regal authority and pretended right of these dominions, &c. Did he not err, said they, in this? I hope, said Mr. Hanse, he did not. Which term, / hope, he used on purpose in this matter, because Pius Quintus his act was, in this case, not a matter of doctrine, but of fact; wherein he did not affirm that the Pope could not err, [or even grievously sin, though ’tis certainly the part of Christian charity to hope that he did not.]

‘ But to go one step forward, and to bring him into the compass of the first statute of the last Parliament, upon which they intended to indict him, Mr. Recorder asked whether he spoke the aforesaid i58i]

thing to persuade other men that heard him to be of his mind. Mr. Hanse replied, / know not what yon mean by persuading; hut I would have all men to believe the Catholic Faith as I do.

‘ This being done and said of each side, order was given to one present that was learned in the law to draw up an indictment of treason against Mr. Hanse upon the new statute made in the last Parliament, which was out of hand done. The effect whereof was, that the said Hanse^ being one of the Pope’s scholars, and made priest beyond the seas, was returned to seduce the Queen’s Majesty’s subjects from their obedience; and that he had affirmed the Pope to be his superior here in England^ and had as much authority in spiritual government within this realm as ever he had before: saying further, that he hoped Pius Quintus erred not in declaring her to be a heretic, excommunicating and deposing her Majesty, and acknowledging that he uttered so much to have others think therein as he did, &c.; which indictment being openly read, and Mr. Hanse thereon arraigned, he was ordered to hold up his hand. He held up his left hand; whereupon the Recorder blamed him, attributing it to some pride or superstition, that, being a priest, he would not vouchsafe, or might not hold up his anointed right hand; but the truth was, he did it because his right hand was occupied in easing himself, by holding up the great bolts wherewith the blessed man was exceedingly laden; for being admonished, he forthwith stretched forth his right hand.

‘ And being asked whether he was guilty of the things contained in the indictment, after a few words, wherein he said. He was not altogether guilty in those things as they were set down, he yet acknowledged the substance and the sense thereof with great courage and constancy. Whereupon the sentence of death was pronounced against him, in the form well known to all men. This done, he was returned to the prison from whence he came, where minister Crowley and others came to attempt to overcome his constancy; but after much talk, and many persuasions to relent in some points of religion, and to acknowledge his fault towards her Majesty, when they saw they could not prevail against the blessed confessor, they forged, to his disgrace, and to make him odious, that he should affirm to them in talk. That treason to the Queen was no sin before God; which slander they were not ashamed to put out in print.

‘ He was condemned upon the 28th of July 1581; and upon the last day of the same month he was drawn to Tyburn; where being put into the cart, he with a cheerful countenance professed hirrself to be a Catholic priest, and most glad to die for testimony thereof.

And being willed to ask the Queen mercy, and demanded whether he took her for his sovereign, he answered. That he did take her for his Queen, and that he never offended her Majesty otherwise than in matters of his conscience, which their new-made statutes had drawn to matters of treason. And whereas, said he, I understand it has been given out that I shoidd say Treason was no offence to God: I protest I neither meant nor said any more, but that these new-made treasons, which are nothing else indeed but the confession of the Catholic points of religion, were no offences to God.

‘ Then the ministers called upon him to pray with them, and to desire the people to assist him. He answered That he might not pray with heretics, but desired humbly all Catholics to pray for him and with him. And so, whilst he was praying devoutly to himself, the cart was drawn away; and before he was half dead, the rope was cut, and he bowelled alive, and afterwards quartered — a spectacle of great edification to the good, and a wonder to every one that looked upon it.’

The Doway manuscript, and Raissius in his printed catalogue of martyrs of the English College, add, that when the executioner had his hand upon his heart, Mr. Hanse distinctly pronounced these words. Oh I happy day! And that it was the current fame that his heart, being cast into the fire, leaped of itself out of the flames; and being flung in again, and covered with a faggot, it sprung up again with so much force as visibly to raise the faggot out of its place, and hold it, as it were, for a short time quivering in the smoke.

Mr. Hanse, the day before his death, wrote the following letter to his brother, who was a priest of the same College.

‘ Brother,

‘ I pray you be careful for my parents; see them instructed in the way of truth, so that you be careful for your own state also. What you shall take in hand that way, think no other, but God will send good success: my prayers shall not be wanting to aid you by God’s grace. Give thanks to God for all that He hath sent; cast not yourself into dangers wilfully, but pray to God, when occasion is offered you may take it with patience.

‘ The comforts at the present instant are unspeakable; the dignity too high for a sinner; but God is merciful. Bestow my things you find ungiven away upon my poor kinsfolks. A pair of pantoffles I leave with M. N. for my mother. Twenty shillings I would have you bestow on them from me, if you can make so much conveniently; some I have left with M. N. I owe ten shillings and two shillings;

I pray you see it paid. M. N. will let you understand how, and to whom. If you want money to discharge it, send to my friends — you know where — in my name. Siimma Conciliorum^ I pray you restore to M. B.; the other books, you know to whom.

‘ Have me commended to my friends; let them think I will not forget them. The day and hour of my Birth is at hand, and my Master saith, Tolle crucem tiiarn et seqiiere me. Vale in Domino.

‘ Yours,

‘ Pridic obitus.' EverARD HanSE.

It was expected that Mr. Thomas Clifton., another priest of Doway College, a native of Kent, should have been the next to follow Mr. Hanse, of whom a certain missioner, in a letter recorded by Mr. Rushton, De Schismate, 1. 3, p. 320, writes as follows: — ‘ Mr. Hanse suffered his conflict with an invincible patience. It seems that Mr. Clifton, priest, is to be the next to succeed him, who has already, for some months, suffered so much from the heretics by cold, hunger, and the load of his chains in a dungeon amongst felons, that his being yet alive seems a miracle. This man, when of late he was led through the streets, loaded with heavy irons, to the bar, in the company of thieves, his companions sighing and almost all the people being moved to commiseration, he alone was cheerful, and dragged his chains along with a smiling countenance. And when’ one asked him why he more than the rest should laugh, his case being so deplorable as it was, he answered. Because I look for greater gain than they from my sufferings; and it is just they should laugh that win.'

He was condemned to perpetual imprisonment; and immediately, upon hearing the sentence, fell upon his knees, and with hands and eyes lifted up to heaven said, Allelujah, allelujah. He was sent back to Newgate, and there fed with the bread of sorrow, having his hands, feet, and neck chained in such sort that he could neither sit down nor stir out of his place all the day, and every night being put down into a horrid and darksome dungeon. {Doway Diary, ad annum 1581.)

Of Mr. Hanse thus writes Mr. Stow in his Annals or Chronicle, anno 1581: — Everard Hanse, a seminary priest, was in the Sessions-Hall in the Old Bailey arraigned, where he affirmed that himself was subject to the Pope in ecclesiastical causes, and that the Pope hath now the same authority here in England that he had an hundred years past, with other traitorous speeches; for the which he was condemned and executed.’ So Mr. Stow, who adds, that ‘ at the same sessions were brought from the Fleet, Gatehouse, Newgate, and the Counters^ sundry prisoners indicted for refusing to come to the church; all which, being convicted by their own confession, had judgment accordingly, to pay twenty pounds for every month of such their wilful absence from the church.’

But this was not the only nor the greatest severity that the English Catholics endured in this persecution, which raged without any intermission for the twenty-five last years of Queen Elizabeth's reign. About this very time that Mr. Hanse suffered, or a little before, we find many instances of an extraordinary nature of the sufferings of Catholics recorded by Dr. Bridgwater in his collections published under the title of Concertatio Ecclesice Catholicce, some of which we will here set down.

1. William Tyrwhite^ son to Sir Robert Tyrwhite, accused for having heard Mass at his sister’s wedding, was carried prisoner to the Tower, notwithstanding he was actually sick of a high fever, and the physicians declared that he was a dead man if they removed him to prison in that condition. His friends offered any bail for his appearance as soon as he should recover, but all in vain; he was hurried away, sick as he was, and died within two days. His brother, Robert Tyrwhite, was also, for the same cause, cast into prison, and there died.

2. Mr. John Cooper, a hopeful young man, of a good family, brought up under Dr. Nicholas Harpsfield, designing to leave England for the sake of his religion, and to follow his studies abroad, and having for that purpose gathered together what m.oney he could, was stopped at the seaside upon a discovery of his design, and sent back to London, where he was plundered of all he had, and committed close prisoner to Becheam Tower. Here, partly through hunger and cold, and partly through the nastiness and stench of the place, he contracted a disease by which he appeared something disturbed in the head and delirious. This being told to the Lieutenant of the Tower, he ordered his bed to be taken away which some friends had sent him in, that he might lie for the future upon the bare floor; which addition to his former sufferings brought him quickly to his end. And for a token that he perished through their barbarous usage, when they pulled off his slippers, in order to bury him, his flesh stuck to them, and came off by pieces from the bones.

3. Mr. Dimock, Champion of England, and son-in-law to the Earl of Lincoln, having been a paralytic for some years, so that he could neither go out of doors nor move himself one step without help, was accused to the Bishop of the diocese of being a Roman Catholic. Upon this he is cited to make his appearance before his lordship, and excuses himself by reason of his palsy. The Bishop therefore comes to his house, sees his condition, but is nothing moved with it; orders him to be carried to prison, where in a short time he dies. But neither would they let him die quietly, but sent in their ministers to perplex him, and force their prayers upon him, though, to the last gasp, he refused their assistance, and died in the faith of his renowned ancestors.

4. Mr. Christopher Watson, and about twenty other Catholics of both sexes, imprisoned in like manner for their religion, perished also about this time in York Castle.

5. Mark Typper, a young gentleman who had been some time student in Dozvay College, was condemned by Mr. Fleetwood, the Recorder of London, to be whipped through the city, and to have his ears bored through with a red-hot iron; which sentence was accordingly executed upon him for his religion. We pass over many other instances of extraordinary severity against the Catholics, which were but the preludes of more cruel treatment, which we shall meet with by-and-by.

EDMUND CAMPION, Priest, SJ *

Edmund campion was bom in London, where he had his first education in Christchurch Hospital, from whence he was sent to Oxford, ‘ where he was brought up in St. John^s College, being very much beloved for his excellent qualifications by Sir Thomas White, of worthy memory, the founder of that house, at whose burial he made an excellent oration in Latin, having made the like before in English at the funeral of my Lady Dudley, late wife of the Earl of Leicester; where, after he had passed with great applause through all such exercises, degrees, and offices as the University yieldeth to men of his condition, by the importunate persuasions of² some of his friends that were desirous of his worldly honour and advancement, he suffered himself to be made deacon after their new fashion.

‘ But for all that, our Lord mercifully withheld him from that ambitious course which is the gulf in which many great wits have perished in these days. Therefore, having spent some more time in study, and travelled into Ireland (the history of which country he wrote truly and eloquently), hearing that there was a seminary not long before begun in Doway, he went over thither, [where, under the conduct of Dr. Allen^ first President of the College, he applied himself with great diligence as well to the study of divinity as to the acquiring the knowledge of God and himself, the true science of the saints;] and after many exercises, done both in the house and in the public schools, he proceeded Bachelor of Divinity, to his great commendation, and the honour of our nation.

‘ Nevertheless all this while (especially being now more advanced in devotion, zeal, learning, and judgment than before) the continual thought of that schismatical deaconship which he had taken did so sorely oppress his mind, and the conceit of the greatness of that sin so burthened his conscience, that no counsel of learned friends could give him satisfaction till he entered into religion to wipe away the same by penance and holy profession. So making his choice of the Society of Jesus, [which has ever since regarded him as one of her brightest lights,] he went to Rome, where he was admitted by the General of the Order, [amio 1573,] and after one month’s stay in that city, was sent to Bohemia, where he abode [about seven years,] and was made priest at Prague, continually [during this time] teaching, preaching, catechising, writing, and labouring for the Church of God; whereby he became so famous, that not only other principal states, but the Imperial Majesty was contented often to hear him preach; till at length, at the suit of such as knew his great talent in dealing with heretics for their conversion, his General called him thence to be bestowed upon his own country.’

In his return towards England he called at Rhemes, where the College was now translated, having Father Robert Parsons in his company; ‘ where, beside other communication appertaining to the reduction of our country to the Catholic faith, he demanded of Dr. Allen whether he thought that any services he could do in England (the times being as they were) were likely to be worth all these long labours and hazards, past and to come, or might countervail the wants that those should seem to have by his absence from whence he came. To which Dr. Allen answered, Eather, said he, first, i58i]

whatever you did there may he done by others, one or more of your Order. Secondly, you owe more duty to England than to Bohemia, and to London than to Prague; though I am glad you have made some recompense to that country for the old wound it received from us \in Wickleffs time, from whom the Hussites of Bohemia learned their heresies?[ Thirdly, the recovery of one soul from heresy is worth all your pains, as I hope you will gain a great many, because the harvest IS both more plentiful and more ripe with us than in those parts. Finally, the reward may be greater; for you may be martyred for it at home, which you cannot easily obtain there. So he was satisfied. And of this communication I have heard him often speak.

' At last he happily landed at Dover the day after Midsummer, anno 1580, being, by God’s great goodness, delivered out of the searchers’ and officers’ hands, who detained him with them upon suspicion for some hours, upon deliberation to have sent him to the Council. Coming, therefore, to London, he preached there his first sermon upon St. Peter and St. Paul's Day, at which I myself was present, where he had a full audience, and that of persons of distinction; but afterwards, both there and in sundry other parts of the realm, far greater, through the fame and experience of his manifold virtues and great eloquence and learning; many Protestants of good nature being at sundry times admitted also to hear him, who ever afterwards contemned their vulgar pulpit-men in comparison of him.

‘ He preached once a day at the least, often twice, and sometimes thrice, whereby, through God’s goodness, he converted several in most counties of the realm of the best sort, besides young gentlemenstudents, and others of all conditions. [And by the experience he had of the good that came of preaching, he particularly recommended to Everardus Mercurianus, the General of his Order, in a letter written from England, that such of the Society as should be sent upon the English mission should be able preachers. In which letter he also acknowledged the good offices done him and the Society by the missioners of the secular clergy, who had cultivated this vineyard for many years before his coming.]

‘ At his first entrance into the kingdom, he made his proffer of disputation, for such causes as he alleged in the same, and more at large afterwards in his eloquent and learned book to both the Universities; whereby the Protestant preachers and prelates found themselves so deeply wounded in their doctrine and credit, notwithstanding they had patched up a few pamphlets against him, that they instigated her Alajesty’s Council to alter the question from controversy in religion to the cause of the Queen and matter of state, that so they might maintain by force and authority what they could not do by their learning and divinity.

‘ Thereupon it was given out, by divers speeches and proclamations, that great confederacies were made by the Pope and foreign princes for the invasion of the land, and that the Jesuits and Seminary priests were sent in, forsooth, to prepare their ways, and such-like trumpery, to beguile and incense the simple against them. Then all exquisite diligence was used for the apprehension of others, but more particularly of Father Campion^ whom they called the Pope's Champion.

‘ At length, after he had laboured in God’s harvest near thirteen months, being betrayed by one George Eliot ^ after long search and much ado, by God’s permission he fell into the persecutors’ hands, the 17th of July^ 1581, being found in a secret closet in a Catholic gentleman and confessor’s house, called Mr. Yates of Lyford, two godly priests, Mr. Ford and Mr. Collington^ being with him, all lying, when the enemy discovered them, upon a bed, their faces and hands lifted up to heaven. He offered his two companions in the search, that if they thought all that ado was for him, and that his yielding himself up might acquit them, he would give himself up; but they would not suffer this in anywise, but hearing one another’s confessions, expected God’s good-will together, every one having penance enjoined, to say three times. Thy will be done^ O Lord! and, St. John Baptist, pray for me! Which blessed saint they particularly invoked, for that Father Campion was delivered, as he took it, out of the searchers’ hands at Dover by the intercession of that holy prophet, his special patron.

‘ Father Campion being now in the power of the traitor Eliot and the officers, and made a show and matter of mockery to the unwise multitude and the ungodly of all sorts, showed such remarkable modesty, mildness, patience, and Christian humility in all his speeches and actions, that the good were exceedingly edified and the enemies much astonished. After he had been two days in the custody of the Sheriff of Berkshire, he was carried with the rest, as well priests as gentlemen and others apprehended in that place, towards London. At Abingdon, among others, divers scholars of Oxford came to see the man so famous, of which being told by one Mr. Lydeot, he said He was very glad, himself being once of that university, and asked whether they would hear a sermon. There, at dinner, Eliot said to him, Mr. Campion, you look cheerfully upon everybody but me: I know you are angry with me in your heart for this i58i]

work. God forgive thee^ Eliot ^ said he, /or so judging of me: I forgive thee, and in token thereof I drink to thee; yea, and if thou wilt repent and come to confession, I will absolve thee; but large penance thou must have.''

In his way to London, ‘ besides the tying of his legs under his horse and binding his arms behind him, which was done to the others also, the Council appointed a paper to be set upon his hat, with great capital letters. Campion the seditious Jesuit; and gave orders that they should stay at Colebrook a good part of Friday and all the night, that thence they might bring him and his companions upon Saturday in triumph through the city, and the whole length thereof, especially through such places where, by reason of the markets of that day, the greatest concourse of the common people was, whom in such matters their policy seeks most to please; which was executed accordingly, all London, almost, beholding the spectacle; the mob gazing, and with delight beholding the novelty, but the wiser sort lamenting to see our country fallen to such barbarous iniquity as to abuse in this manner a religious man so honourable in all nations for his learning, and of so innocent a life. So that day, which was the 22d oijidy, he was delivered up to the Lieutenant of the Tower.

‘ Here, besides the ordinary miseries incident to that kind of imprisonment, doubled by the inhuman dealing and deep hatred to Catholics of the chief officer of the place, after sundry examinations, terrors, and threats by the Lord Chancellor and others of the Council and Commission, he was divers times racked, to force out of him, by intolerable torments, whose houses he had frequented, by whom he was relieved, whom he had reconciled, when, which way, for what purpose, and by what commission, he came into the realm; how, where, and by whom he printed and dispersed his books, and such-like.

‘ At his first racking, they went no further with him; but afterwards, when they saw he could not be won to condescend somewhat at least in religion, which was the thing they most desired, they thought good to forge matter of treason against him, and framed their demands accordingly; about which he was so cruelly torn and rent upon the torture the two last times, that he told a friend of his that found means to speak with him, that he thought they meant to make him away in that manner. Before he went to the rack, he used to fall down at the rack-house door upon both knees to commend himself to God’s mercy; and upon the rack he called continually upon God, repeating often the holy name of Jesus. He most charitably forgave his tormentors, and the causers thereof. His keeper asking him the next day how he felt his hands and feet, he answered, Not ill, because not at all.

‘ The enemies, not contented with this, and many other accustomed ways of torture, secretly, as it is said, used towards him to afflict his body, added a thousand devices and slanderous reports to wrong him in his fame, opening all the mouths of the ministers to bark against him; sometimes publishing that there was great hope he would become a Protestant; sometimes, that he had been at church and service; another while, that he had uttered upon the rack all that ever he knew; yea, sometimes, that he had therefore killed himself in prison; which, no doubt, they would have further avouched, if he had died by racking, as it was very like he should have done.

‘ The Lieutenant of the Tower at the beginning, hoping that he might be gained to their side in some points either by sweet words, great promises of promotions, or extreme torments, extolled the man exceedingly, affirming divers times that he was such a man as England never brought forth before: And surely, said he, it is God’s singular goodness that he returned home; no doubt her Majesty will prefer him to great livings. And that he might want no good pretence to yield to their desires, they often brought to him such divines as they had to confer with him, and to persuade him privately to relent somewhat to their sect: but not prevailing that way, they caused, under colour of satisfying his former challenge of disputation, divers public disputes, or rather certain light skirmishes, to bark at him and bait him. Four or five of the contrary side, all provided as well as they could, were set out against one destitute of all proper helps, [and brought almost to the brink of death by the rack,] now one snatching, now another, and sometimes all biting together. The masters of the game in the meantime, when they saw Father Campion, in answ^ering and defending himself (for he was never suffered to oppose), to gripe the adversaries hard, parted them wdth their tip-staves, commanding him to silence, and threatening him with laws, authority, and punishment. Thus they disputed three several times with the man of God, showing nothing but barbarous despite, malice, and so deep ignorance in divinity, that divers of the Protestants themselves were ashamed thereof, and marvelled exceedingly at the other’s learning, meekness, patience, and humility.

‘ And now, by this time falling from all hope of his yielding to them, and so from all pity and good-nature towards him, they practised how to make him and his companions away by some show of justice, and that not for the new-made treasons, that is to say, for mere religion, but for matters of treason so called of old against her Majesty and the State, forging things for this purpose, and finding out three or four false fellows that would not stick to swear the same against a man whom they never knew nor saw in their life before his apprehension. So they caused an indictment to be drawn up against him, and a number more of most godly learned priests, comprising him and them all together, that so whatsoever might colourably be avouched or witnessed of the rest, or of any one of them all, either present or absent, all might seem to the simple and to the jury (deeply biassed by fear and authority) to touch him also, and every one of the others.

‘ The 14th day of Novernber, anno 1581, he and seven others were brought from the Tower to the King's- Bench bar, and a bill of their indictment was read in the hearing of Father Campion and the rest, how that in the twenty-second year of the reign of our sovereign lady the Queen, on the last day of May, in the parts beyond the seas, they had practised the Queen’s deposition and death, and the stirring up of rebellion within, and invasion of the realm from abroad, and such-like stuff. Whereupon he was arraigned with the others, and commanded, as custom is in such cases, to hold up his hand; but both his arms being pitifully benumbed by his often cruel racking before, and he having them wrapped in a furred cuff, he was not able to lift his hand so high as the rest did, and was required of him; but one of his companions, kissing his hand so abused for the confession of Christ, took off his cuff, and so he lifted up his arm as high as he could, and pleaded not guilty, as all the rest did. I protest, said he, before God and His holy angels, before heaven and earth, before the world and this bar whereat I stand, which is but a small resemblance of the terrible judgment of the next life, that I am not guilty of any part of the treason contained in the indictment, or of any other treason whatsoever. Then lifting up his voice, he added. Is it possible to find twelve men so wicked and void of all conscience in this city or land that will find us guilty together of this one crime, divers of us never meeting, or knowing one the other, before our bringing to this bar?

‘ Nothing more was done that day, only a jury was impanelled for the next Monday, being the 20th of the same month; but three of the first of that impanel, being Esquires, doubting that justice should have no free course that day in these men’s cases, whose blood was so earnestly thirsted after, appeared not when the day came. In the meantime, Mr. Campion and his fellow-confessors were carried back to the prisons from whence they came. [The seven that were arraigned, together with Mr. Campion, were Mr. Ralph Sherzvine, Mr. Luke Kirby, Mr. Thomas Cottam, Mr. Robert Johnson, and Mr. Edward Rishton, all priests of Doway College; James Bosgraz'e, a young Jesuit, who, coming over for his health, had fallen into their hands, and Mr. Orton, a lay gentleman. And the next day in like manner were arraigned Kiv. John Collington or Colleton, Mr. Laurence Richardson, Mr. John Hart, Mr. Thomas Ford, Mr. William Filby, Mr. Alexander Brian, and ^Ix.John Shert, all priests educated in the same College, though Mr. Shert was made priest at Romei\

‘ On the 20th day of November before mentioned, Mr. Campion and his companions were brought back again to receive judgment, where, notwithstanding what commandment soever or order taken to the contrary, there was such a presence of people, and that of the more honourable, wise, learned, and best sort, as was never seen or heard of in that court, in our or our fathers’ memories before us. So wonderful an expectation there w^as of some to see the end of this marvellous tragedy, containing so many strange and divers acts of examining, racking, disputing, subornations of false witnesses, and the like; of others, to behold whether the old honour of law and justice, wherein our nation hath of all the world had the praise, could or durst now stand its ground, notwithstanding any violent impression of power and authority to the contrary. Whether there were any Markhams left in the land that would yield up coif, office, and life, rather than give sentence against such as they knew in conscience to be innocent, and, in truth, not touched by any evidence whatsoever. But this one day gave that assembly and all the world full proof of the sad fall of equity, law, conscience, and justice, together with the Catholic faith in our poor country.

‘ For nothing there said by the Queen’s attorney, solicitor, or other counsellors, or by any of those that were at their racking, or by the suborned false witnesses, [Eliot, Cradock, Sledd and Munday,] could in any well-informed man’s conscience touch any of them all, as every one of the rest, and especially Father Campion, did, point by point, prove and declare as clear as the sun; and his innocence, in particular, was so plain in all men’s sight, that what colour soever might be made for the condemnation of the others, yet for Father Campion's none at all; insomuch, that whilst the jury were gone forth, divers wise and well-learned law^xrs and others, conjecturing and conferring one with another what should be the verdict, they all agreed, that whatever might be concluded as to some of the rest, it was impossible to condemn Father Campion.

‘ But it was Father Campion that especially was designed to die, i58i]

and for his sake the rest, and therefore no defence could serve; and the poor jury did that which they understood was looked for at their hands, and brought them in all guilty; Mr. Popham^ the Attorney-general, having plainly signified to them that it was the Queen’s will it should be so. The most unjust verdict, says my author, that ever I think was given up in this land, whereat already not only England^ but all the Christian world, doth wonder, and which our posterity shall lament and be ashamed of. Upon this, sentence followed that all these holy men should be hanged, drawn, and quartered, as in cases of high treason, and so that doleful day was spent. Father Campion and his happy associates rejoiced in God, using divers holy speeches of Scripture to their own comfort and the great edification of others, and so were sent back to their prisons again, where, being laid up in irons for the rest of their time, they expected God’s mercy and the Queen’s pleasure.’

[The following day the other priests who, as we have seen above, were arraigned for the same fictitious plot, received the same unjust sentence, Mr. Colleton only excepted, who was acquitted by the testimony of Mr. Lancaster, witnessing that he was with him in Gray’s Inn the very day that he was charged with plotting at Rhemes; where, indeed, Mr. Colleton, who was sent missioner from Doway, had never been in his life. He was afterwards transported into banishment, and lived to be the first Dean of the English Chapter erected by the Bishop of Chalcedon.

As to the innocence of all the rest of these gentlemen with regard to the treasons laid to their charge, and the barefaced injustice used in the condemning of them, my author, in his preface to his accounts of their deaths, has set it in so clear a light that it seems to be out of all dispute that the true cause of their execution was not any treason but their religion. And we learn from Mr. Camden,in his Elizabeth, that, for the greatest part of them, the Queen herself did not believe them guilty. Plerosque tamen ex misellis his sacerdotihus exitii inpatriam conflandi conscios fuisse non crediditi] (P. 327, Edit. 1615.)

The time that passed between judgment and execution, which was from the 20th of November till the ist of December, Father Campion spent in preparing for his end by godly spiritual exercises, showing so much patience, and using such sweet speeches to his keeper and others that had to deal with him, that the same keeper having afterwards one Norton in his custody (who had been a violent persecutor of Mr. Ca^npion and his companions), and comparing together the different behaviours of his prisoners, declared That he had a saint in his keeping before, but now he had a devil.

In the mean time the Protestants did not desist to tempt Mr. Campion with proffers of life and liberty to go over to their side, or at least to make some steps towards them; insomuch that the Lieutenant of the Tower told Mr. Campion's sister, who came to see her brother three days before his death. That if he would hut yield to change his religio7i he would secure him a f 100 a year; but Mr. Campion had too well studied that great lesson. What will it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul? to be moved by any such offers.

On the morning of the ist of December^ he was brought to Mr. Sherwine and Mr. Brian ^ who were to be his companions in death, who waited for him in. the Coleharbour prison; and after mutual embraces, they were all three led out to the hurdles prepared for them. Father Campion saluting the people at his coming out with these words, God save you all! God bless you, and make you all good Catholics! ‘ They were drawn from the Tower to Tyburn' says my author, ‘ there to be martyred for the Catholic faith and religion. Father Campion was alone on one hurdle, and the other two together on another, all molested by ministers and others calling upon them by the way for their subversion, and by some also, as opportunity served, comforted; and Father Campion especially consulted by one in some cases of conscience and religion, and the mire wherewith he was all spattered most courteously wiped off his face.

‘ When they were come to the place of execution, where divers of her Majesty’s honourable Council, with many other persons of honour, besides an infinite multitude of people, attended their coming. Father Campion was first brought up into the cart, where, after some small pause, he began to speak upon that text of St. Paul, I Cor. iv. 9: We are made a spectacle to the world, &c., but was interrupted by Sir Francis Knowles and the Sheriffs urging him to confess his treason against her Majesty, and to acknowledge himself guilty; to whom he answered. For the treasons zvhich have been laid to my charge and I am come here to suffer for, I desire you all to bear witness with me that thereof I am altogether innocent.

‘ Whereupon answer was made to him by one of the Council, that he might not seem to deny the objections against him, having been proved by sufficient evidence. Well, my lord, said he, / am a Catholic man and a priest. In that faith have I lived, and in that faith do I intend to die; and if you esteem my religion treason, then am I guilty. As for any other treason, I never committed, God is my judge; but you have now what you desire. I beseech you to have patience, and suffer me to speak a word or two for discharge of my i58i]

conscience. But not being suffered to go forward, he was forced to speak only to that point which they most urged, protesting That he was innocent of all treason and conspiracy, desiring credit to he given to^ his answers as to the last answer made upon his death and sold; adding. That the jury might easily he deceived, hut that he forgave all, as he desired to be forgiven; desiring all them to forgive him whose names he had confessed upon the rack {for, upon the Commissioners' oaths that no harm should come unto them, he uttered some persons with whom he had been).

Further, he declared the meaning of a letter sent by himself, in time of his imprisonment, to Mr. Pound, a prisoner then also in the Tower, in which he wrote. That he would not disclose the secrets of some houses where he had been entertained; affirming upon his soul. That the secrets he meant in that letter were not, as it was misconstrued by the enemy, treason or conspiracy, or any matter else against her Majesty or the State, but saying of Mass, hearing confessions, preaching, and such-like duties and functions of priesthood. This he protested to be true as he would answer before God.

‘ They pressed him to declare his opinion of Pius Quintus his Bull concerning the excommunication of the Queen; to which demand he gave no answer. Then they asked whether he renounced the Pope. He answered. He was a Catholic; whereupon one inferred, saying. In your Catholicism (I noted the term) all treason is contained. In fine, preparing himself to drink his last draught of Christ's cup, he was interrupted in his prayer by a minister, willing him to say some prayer with him; unto whom, looking back with a mild countenance, he meekly replied. You and I are not one in religion, wherefore I pray you content yourself. I bar none of prayer, only I desire them of the household of faith to pray with me, and in my agony to say one Creed (for a signification that he died for the confession of the Catholic Faith therein contained).

‘ Some also called to him to pray in English, to whom he answered. That he would pray in a language he well understood. At the upshot of this conflict he was willed to ask the Queen’s forgiveness, and to pray for her; he meekly answered. Wherein have I offended her? In this I am innocent: this is my last speech: in this give me credit: I have and do pray for her. Then the Lord Charles Howard asked of him for which Queen he prayed, whether for Elizabeth the Queen? to whom he answered. Yea, for Elizabeth, your Queen and my Queen. And the cart being drawn away, he meekly and sweetly yielded his soul unto his Saviour, protesting that he died a perfect Catholic.

‘ Which his mild death and former sincere protestations of his innocency moved the people to such compassion and tears, that the adversaries, in their printed books [of his death under Mimday's name^ were glad to excuse the matter.’

He suffered at Tyburn, December i, 1581, cetatis anno 42.

The gentlemen that were brought up to London at the same time with Father Campion, and cast into prison, were Edward Yates, John Cotton, Edward Kaines, William Hildesley, Humphrey Kaines, Philip Law, and John James.

RALPH SHERWINE, Priest.^

He was born in Derbyshire, at a place called Rodsley, near Long-ford, and brought up in Exeter College, in Oxford, where he was admitted Fellow in 1568. ‘ In 1574/ says Mr. Wood,

Athence Oxonienses, ‘ proceeding in Arts, he was made Senior of the Act celebrated July 26 the same year, being then accounted an acute philosopher and an excellent Grecian and Hebrician.' [He left the University in 1575, and with it the Protestant religion, which it seems did not sit easy upon his conscience, and] ‘ went over to Dcway to the Seminary that was then there,’ says my author, ‘ and after some years’ study in divinity was made priest by the Bishop of Cambray on the 23d of March, 1577, together with Mr. Laurence Johnson, that was martyred under the name of Richardson, [and eight others.] And the 2d of August of the same year he was sent to Rome, in company with Mr. Rishton, who was afterwards condemned with him, where he studied in the Seminary till the year 1580, at which time he returned homeward by the way of Rhemes, [where he made some short stay, upon a design of accompanying, in quality of chaplain. Dr. Goldwell, Bishop of St. Asaph, who then purposeei to come over to England to administer Confirmation to the Catholics; but the Bishop falling sick at Rhemes, and proceeding no further in his journey,] Mr. Sherwine went forward towards England, where, after his arrival, he occupied himself in all functions belonging to priesthood, with great zeal and charity; and soon after was taken in Mr. Roscarroke's chamber in London, and committed to the Marshalsea, where he lay night and day in a great pair of shackles for the space of a month.³

‘ In November^ after his imprisonment, there came word from the Knight-Marshal to the keeper of the Marshalsea to understand of him whether there were any Papists in his prison that durst or would maintain their cause by disputation; and if there were any such, that then they should send him such questions as they woidd defend, subscribed with their hands, and make themselves ready to dispute, for they shoidd understand from him shortly of the manner, time, and place, how and where to dispute. This motion was so well liked of the Catholics, that Mr. Sherwine and two other priests, that were afterwards condemned with him, viz., Mr. John Hart and Mr. Bosgrave, offered themselves to the combat, drew up questions, subscribed their names, and sent them to the said Knight-Marshal; but the questions pleasing him not, they accepted of other questions sent unto them from him, and expected with joyful minds the day appointed to dispute. But lo! the very day before they should have disputed, Mr. Sherwine was removed to the Tozver, where he was at sundry and several times examined and racked.

‘ In his first racking he was asked where Father Campioii and Father Parsons were; why he and they came over into England; what acquaintance he had here in England; whether he had said Mass in Mr. Roscarroke's chamber; and whether he had of him at any time money. He was a close prisoner almost a whole year, in which time he had divers conferences with ministers, sometimes in private, at other times in an open audience of honourable and worshipful persons, to the honour of God, the benefit of His afflicted Church, and to the admiration of most of his hearers.

‘ He was, after his first racking, set out in a great snow, and laid upon the rack; and the gentleman in whose chamber he was taken was kept in a bye dark corner to hear his pitiful groans. [Of his second racking, the Rev. Mr. Broughton, in a manuscript relation sent over to Doway in 1626, writes, that his brother, Mr. John Sherwine, still living, being asked by a priest concerning his brother, told him that he, coming to his brother in the Tower of London, his said brother told him. That he had been twice racked, and the latter time he lay five days and nights without any food or speaking to anybody. All which time he lay, as he thought, in a sleep before our Saviour on the cross. After which time he came to himself, not finding any distemper in his jomts by the extremity of the torture. It was offered him by the Bishops of Canterbury and London, that if he woidd hut go to Paul’s Church, he shoidd have the second bishopric of England.]

‘ On Midsummer Day, in the year 1581, he was called before the

Lieutenant of the Tower (as likewise all his fellow-prisoners were), who demanded of him, by commission from the Council, whether he would go to their Common-Prayer service. Who refusing, the Lieutenant told him the danger of a late statute made in that behalf; and further, that he should be indicted upon that statute within two or three days. So that at that time it seems they had no such matter to lay against him as was afterwards pretended, for it was not as then thoroughly hatched.

‘ The order of his life [during his imprisonment] in his spare diet, his continual prayer and meditation, his long watching, with frequent and sharp discipline used upon his body, caused great admiration to his keeper, who would always call him a man of God, and the best and devoutest priest that ever he saw in his life.’

He was brought to the bar, as we have seen, with Father Campion, and condemned for the same pretended conspiracy, of which, both living and dying, he ever protested himself to be wholly innocent. After his condemnation he wrote to his friends in the following terms: — ‘ Y'our liberality I have received, and disposed thereof to my great contentation; when hereafter, at the pleasure of God, we shall meet in heaven, I trust you shall be repaid, cum fcenore. Delay of our death doth somewhat dull me; it was not without cause that our Master Himself said. Quod facts fac cito.

‘ Truth it is, I hoped ere this, casting off this body of death, to have kissed the precious glorified wounds of my sweet Saviour, sitting in the throne of His Father’s own glory. Which desire, as I trust, descending from above, hath so quieted my mind, that, since the judicial sentence proceeded against us, neither the sharpness of the death hath much terrified me, nor the shortness of life much troubled me.

‘ My sins are great, I confess, but I flee to God’s mercy; my negligences are without number, I grant, but I appeal to my Redeemer’s clemency: I have no boldness but in His blood; His bitter Passion is my only consolation. It is comfortable that the prophet hath recorded that He hath written us in His hands. Oh! that He would vouchsafe to write Himself in our hearts; how joyful should we then appear before the tribunal-seat of His Father’s glory, the dignity whereof, when I think of, my flesh quaketh, not sustaining, by reason of mortal infirmity, the presence of my Creator’s majesty.

‘ Our Lord perfect us to that end whereunto we were created, that, leaving this world, we may live in Him, and of Him, world without end. It is thought that upon Monday or Tuesday next we shall be passible. God grant us humility, that we, following

His footsteps, may obtain the victory.’ So far the letter, which speaks the spirit of the man.

‘ When he came out of the Lieutenant’s hall, with others of his companions, two days or there abouts before he was martyred, (having talked with a minister who was never so held up to the wall in his life, by report of such as stood by), he uttered these Words, Ah, Father Campion! I shall he shortly above yonder fellow, pointing to the Sun, with such a courage that some said he w^as the resolutest man that ever they saw.

‘ He will never be forgotten in the Tower for some words w^hich he spoke when he was ready to go to execution. Charke, the minister, can best report them, who stood hard by. Some of Charke' s fellow ministers said those words could not come from a guilty conscience.’

The day before his death he wrote the following letter to the Rev. Mr. John Woodward, his uncle: —

‘ Absit lit gloriemur nisi in cruce Domini Jesu Christi, &c.

‘ My Dearest Uncle,

‘ After many conflicts, mixed with spiritual consolations and Christian comforts, it hath pleased God, of His infinite mercy, to call me out of this vale of misery. To Him, therefore, for all His benefits, all times and for ever be all praise and glory.

‘ Your tender care always had over me, and cost bestow^ed on me, I trust in heaven shall be rewarded. My prayers you have still had, and that was but duty; other tokens of a grateful mind I could not show by reason of my restrained necessity.

‘ This very morning, which is the festival of St. Andrew, I was advertised by superior authority that to-morrow I was to end the course of this life. God grant that I may do it to the imitation of this noble apostle and servant of God, and that with joy I may say, rising off the hurdle. Salve sancta crux, etc.

‘ Innocency is my only comfort against all the forged villainy which is fathered on my fellow priests and me. Well, when by the High Judge, God Himself, this false vizard of treason shall be removed from true Catholic men’s faces, then shall it appear who they be that carry a well meaning, and who an evil, murdering mind. In the mean season, God forgive all injustice, and if it be His blessed will to convert our persecutors, that they may become professors of His truth.

‘ Prayers for my soul procure for me, my loving patron: and so,

33 c having great need to prepare myself for God, never quieter in mind, nor less troubled towards God, binding all my iniquities up in His precious wounds, I bid you farewell; yea, and once again, the lovingest uncle that ever kinsman had in this world, farewell.

‘ God grant us both His grace and blessing until the end, that, living in His fear and dying in His favour, we may enjoy one the other for ever. Salute all my fellow Catholics. And so, without farther troubling of you, my sweetest benefactor, farewell. On St. Andrew's Day^ 1581-

‘ Your Cousin,

‘ Ralph Sherwine, Priest.'

After hlr. Campion was executed and the butchery finished, the hangman, taking hold of Mr. Sherwine with his hands all bloody, said to him, thinking to terrify him. Come, Sherwine, take thou also thy wages. But the holy man, nothing dismayed, embraced him with a cheerful countenance, and reverently kissed the blood that stuck to his hands; at which the people were very much moved. Then getting into the cart, he employed some time in prayer and contemplation, having his eyes shut and his hands lifted up to heaven. After which he asked. If the people looked for any speech froyn him. Many of the people, and some also of the more honourable sort, answering, Yes, he began with a manly courage and a loud voice, first to render thanks to each of the three Persons of the eternal Trinity for the mercies and blessings bestowed upon him, and then was going on to give an account of his faith, when Sir Francis Knowles interrupted him, and bade him confess his treason against the Queen. Mr. Shei’wine with great constancy replied, I am innocent of any such crime. And when he was still farther pressed to acknowledge himself guilty, he said, I have no occasion to tell a lie; 'tis a case where my soul is at stake; and so still persisted to maintain his innocence, adding. That although in this short time of mortal life he was to undergo the infamy and punishment of a traitor, he made no douht of his future happiness through Jesus Christ, in whose death, passion, and blood he only trusted.

‘ Then he made a sweet prayer to our Cord Jesus, acknowledging the imperfection, misery, and sinful wretchedness of his own nature, still protesting his innocence from all treasons and traitorous practices, and that his going out of this realm beyond the seas was only for his soul’s health, to learn to save his soul. And being again tempted by Sir Francis Knowles, he answered in this wise. Tush, tush! you and I shall answer this before another Judge, whei'e my innocence shall be known, and yon will see that I am guiltless of this. Whereupon Sir Francis said, We know you are no contriver or doer of this treason, for you are no man of arms; but you are a traitor by consequence. But Mr. Sherwine boldly answered, If to be a Catholic only, if to be a perfect Catholic, be to be a traitor, then am I a traitor.

‘ After which words, being by authority debarred of any further speech, he said, I forgive all who, either by general presumption or particular error, have procured my death; and so devoutly prayed to his Saviour Jesus. After which prayer he was pressed to speak his opinion touching Pope Pius his Bull: to which point he gave no answer. Then being willed to pray for the Queen, he answered, 1 have and do. At which words the Lord Howard again asked which Queen he meant, whether Elizabeth Queen? To whom, somewhat smiling, he said. Yea, for Elizabeth Queen I now at this instant pray my Lord God to make her His servant in this life, and after this life coheir with Jesus Christ.

‘ When he had thus prayed, there was some that said openly that he meant to make her a Papist; to whom he boldly replied, God forbid otherwise; and so recollecting himself in prayer, he died patiently, constantly, and mildly, crying, Jesu, Jesii, Jesu, be to me a Jesus I

ALEXANDER BRIAN, Priest *

He was born in Dorsetshire, and studied for a while in Hart Hall, Oxford; but not liking the religion of the times, he left both the University and the kingdom, and went over to Dow ay to the English College or Seminary there, anno 1576. Here and at Rhemes he prosecuted his studies; and being ordained priest, w^as sent back upon the English mission in 1 579, where, before his apprehension, he reconciled to the Church an ancient gentleman, father to Robert Parsons, S.J.

‘About the 28th of April, 1581, he was apprehended in his chamber at midnight by Norton; his chamber was rifled, and 3/. in money taken from him {For that is a principal verb, says my author, in all apprehensions of Catholics)', his apparel and other things, especially a trunk wherein was a silver chalice, and much other good⁴ stuff which was not his, but committed to his custody, was taken away also, and he sent close prisoner to the Coimtei'^ with commandment to stop all that asked for him, and that he should have neither meat nor drink; who in such order continued till he was almost famished. At last, by friendship, or by what means I know not, he got a pennyworth of hard cheese and a little broken bread, with a pint of strong beer, which brought him into such an extreme thirst that he essayed to catch with his hat the drops of rain from the house eaves, but could not reach them.

‘ The morrow after the Ascension Day he was removed to the Tower ^ where he verily thought he should have been utterly famished, and therefore carried with him a little piece of his hard cheese, which his keeper in searching him found about him; but Mr. Brian humbly entreated him not to take it from him. Within two days after his coming to the Tower he was brought before the Lieutenant, Mr. Dr. Hammond, and Norton, who examined him after their common manner, first tendering an oath to answer to all, &c. And because he would not confess where he had seen Father Parsons, how he was maintained, where he had said A lass, and whose confessions he had heard, they caused needles to be thrust under his nails, whereat Mr. Brian was not moved at all, but, with a constant mind and pleasant countenance, said the psalm Misei'ere, desiring God to forgive his tormentors; whereat Dr. Hammond stamped and stared as a man half beside himself, saying. What a thing is this! If a man were not settled in his religion, this were enough to convert him.

‘ After this he was, even to the disjointing of his body, rent and torn upon the rack, because he would not confess where Father Parsons was, where the print was, and what books he had sold, and so was returned to his lodgings for that time; yet the next day following, notwithstanding the great distemperature and soreness of his whole body, his senses being dead and his blood congealed, he was brought to the torture again, and there stretched with greater severity than before; insomuch, that supposing with himself they would pluck him in pieces, he put on the armour of patience, resolving to die rather than to hurt any creature living, and having his mind raised in contemplation of Christ's bitter Passion. At his racking he sounded away, so that they were fain to sprinkle cold water on his face to revive him again, yet they released no part of his pain.

‘ And here Norton, because they could get nothing of him, asked him whether the Queen were supreme head of the Church of England or not. To this he said, I am a Catholic, and I believe in this as a Catholic should do. Why, said Norton, [they say the Pope is.]

ALEXANDER BRIAN

And so say /, answered Mr. Brian. Here also the Lieutenant used railing and reviling words, and slapped him on the cheeks after an uncharitable manner; and all the Commissioners rose up and went away, giving commandment to leave him so all night: at which, when they saw he was nothing moved, they ordered he 'Should be taken from the torment, and sent him again to Walesboure, where, not able to move hand or foot or any part of his body, he lay in his clothes fifteen days together without bedding, in great pain and anguish.

‘ These torments and the man’s constancy are comparable truly to the old sufferings of the renowned martyrs of the Primitive Church, which he could never have borne by human strength if God had not given him singular and supernatural grace. Himself confessed that by a vow he made and other special exercises, he had great consolation in all these vexations; whereof I will set down his own words in an epistle that he wrote to the Fathers of the Society in England, [where, after having acquainted them with a vow he had made. That if God should he pleased to deliver him, he would enter into their Society within one year next ensuing, he writes thus:] — ‘ The same day that I was first tormented on the rack, before 1 came to the place, giving my mind to prayer, and commending myself and all mine to our Lord, I was replenished and filled up with a kind of supernatural sweetness of spirit; and even while I was calling upon the most holy name of Jesus, and upon the Blessed Virgin Mary {for I was saying the Rosary), my mind was cheerfully disposed, well comforted, and readily prepared and bent to suffer and endure those torments ivhich even then I most certainly looked for, &c. Whether this that I will say be miraculous or no, God he knoweth; hut true it is, and thereof my conscience is a witness before God. And this I say, that in the end of the torture, though my hands and feet wei'e violently stretched and racked, and my adversaries fulfilled their wicked lust in practising their cruel tyranyiy upon my body, yet, notwithstanding, I was without sense and feeling, well nigh of all grief and pain; and not so only, but as it were comforted, eased, and refreshed of the griefs of the torture bypast. I contmued still with perfect and present senses in quietness of heart and tranquillity of mind. Which thing when the Commissioners did see, they departed, and in going forth of the door they gave orders to rack me again the next day following after the same sort. Now when I heard them say so, it gave me in my mind by-and-by, afjd I did verily believe and trust that, with the help of God, I should be able to bear and suffei’ it patiently. In the mean time, as well as I coidd, I did muse and meditate upon the most bitter Passion of our Saviour, and how full of innumerable pains it was. And whilst I was thus occupied., methought that my left hand was wounded in the palm^ and that I felt the blood run out; but in very deed there was no such thing., nor any other pain than that which seemed to be in my hand.' So far Mr. Brian.

‘ When he went to Westminster Hall to be condemned, he made a cross of such wood as he could get, which he carried with him openly; he made shift also to shave his crown, because he would signify to the ministers (who at his apprehension had scoffed and mocked him, saying that he was ashamed of his vocation) that he was not ashamed of his holy orders, nor yet that he would blush at his religion. When he was condemned, irons were commanded to be put upon him and the rest, and they were never taken off till they were fetched forth to be martyred.’

After Mr. Campion and Mr. Sherwine had finished their course, IMr. Brian was ordered up into the cart. ‘ Being there prepared to death, he began first to declare his bringing up in the Catholic faith and religion, and his being in Oxford; upon which word he was cut short by one saying. What have we to do with Oxford? come to thy purpose and confess thy treason. Whereupon he answered, / am not guilty of any such thing; I was never at Rome nor at Rhemes at that time when Dr. Saunders came into Ireland, [the time of the pretended conspiracy.] To this end he spoke and protested, as he would answer before God.

‘ He spake not much; but whereas he was urged more than the other two to speak what he thought of the bull of Pius Quintus, he said. He did believe of it, as all Catholics did, and the Catholic Faith doth; and thereupon protesting himself to die a true Catholic, as he was saying Miserere mei Deus, he was delivered of the cart, with more pain, by negligence of the hangman, than either of the others; who, after his beheading, being dismembered, his heart, bowels, and entrails burned, to the great admiration of some, being laid upon the block, his belly downwards, lifted up his whole body then remaining from the ground. And this I add upon report of others, not my own sight.’

Mr. Brian was but twenty-eight years old when he suffered. My author gives his character in short in these words: ‘ He was a man not unlearned, of a very sweet grace in preaching, and of an exceeding great zeal, patience, constancy, and humility.’

Mr. Stozo, in his Chronicle of this year, makes mention of the execution of Mr. Campion, Mr. Sherwine, and Mr. Brian: — ‘ The I St of December,' says he, ‘ Edmund Campion, Jesuit, Ralph Sherwine and Alexander Brian ^ Seminary priests, were drawn from the Tower of London to Tyburn^ and there hanged, bowelled, and quartered/

The learned and truly pious Father Lewis^ of Grenada^ in the abridgment of his Catechism, makes a very honourable mention of Father Campion^ Mr. Sherwine^ and Mr. Brian ^ as illustrious martyrs, with an account of their deaths, agreeable to what has been set down above.

N,B. — Mr. Brian, as appears from his letter recorded by Dr. Bridgewater in his Concertatio, desired before his death to be received into the Society of Jesus, and it seems his request was granted him by the Fathers of the Society, who always give him a place amongst their martyrs.

Footnotes

1. Bd. Everard Hanse. — From a Douay MS.; but chiefly from Allen’s Brief e Historie; see also Lives of E. M., I. ii. ↩

2. Bd. Edmund Campion. — His life has been published by Bombinus and several others. What we here give is an extract out of the old English author [viz., Allen’s Brief e Historic'], from whom we had our account of Mr. Hanse, etc., whom we prefer to all the rest, as being more ancient, and personally acquainted with Mr. Campion, and quoting an eye-witness to his death. His account was published in 1582. See alsoLwcs of E.M., I.ii» ↩

3. Bd. Ralph Sherwin. — From Allen’s Briefe Historie; see also Lives of E. M., I. ii. ↩

4. Bd. Alexander Brian or Briant. — From Allen’s Briefe Historic, published in 1582; see also Lives of E. M., I. ii. ↩