The Year 1600

CHRISTOPHER WHARTON, Priest *

CHRISTOPHER WHARTON was born at Middleton, in Yorkshire ^ and brought up in Trinity College, Oxford, of which College he was sometime fellow, and there also took the degree of master of arts; but preferring the old religion before the new, he left Oxford and went over to Rhemes, where the English College then resided, and after some time was there made priest by the Cardinal de Guise, then Archbishop of that city, March 31, 1584, and from thence was sent upon the English mission in 1586. He is much commended by Dr. Worthington, in his Account of Sixteen Martyrs, p. 81, for his humility, charity, and other great virtues, which God was pleased to reward with the crown of martyrdom. When or how he was apprehended I have not learned; but that he was taken in the house of Mrs. Eleanor Hunt, widow, who for harbouring him was also committed prisoner to York Castle, where I find them both in 1599.

Mr. Wharton was brought upon his trial in the Lent Assizes in 1600, and indicted for being a Seminary priest, and returning into the realm contrary to the statute of Elizabeth 27. He acknowledged himself to be a priest, but added. That he was so, as indeed he was, before that statute was made, leaving it to his accusers to prove when he was ordained priest; for, considering his age, he might, for aught they knew, have been ordained before the first year of Queen Elizabeth, and consequently be out of the danger of that statute. At his trial many odious things were objected against the Pope, cardinals, missionary priests, and Catholics in general, whom they were pleased to charge with idolatry, superstition, treasons, and what not. All which charges Mr. Wharton assured them were unjust slanders, and, withal, quite impertinent to the indictment and the question on which his life depended — which was, to know the time when he was made priest. And as to the dissensions between the Jesuits and Seminary priests, which they also objected and amplified, he answered briefly, ‘ That in the Catholic Roman religion {which he professed, and for which he was ready to die) there is neither idolatry,¹ nor superstition^ nor falsehood ^ nor contrariety of doctrine; and though there are dissensions sometimes amongst Catholics, either priests or others, yet these differences are not in articles of their faith, but in other matters, as of some particular jurisdiction, right or title, spiritual or temporal, and the like; and that, for his own part, he had no such controversy with any Catholic, nor breach of charity with any person whatsoever '

As to the point concerning the time of his ordination, after a few conjectures which proved nothing, Mr. Saville, Baron of the Exchequer (who was also his judge), affirming that he knew him in Oxford some years after the time mentioned in the statute, and that he was not then taken for a priest, the jury was directed to find him guilty of the indictment, and he was condemned of high treason. Mrs. Hunt also was condemned of felony for receiving him into her house, as if she also had known him in Oxford to have been no priest, and to have been made priest afterwards; whereas, indeed, she knew him not at all, till a little time before he was apprehended in her house. She utterly refused to save her life by going to the Protestant church; but though she was sentenced to die, and lost all her worldly substance, yet she did not suffer, as was expected, but was permitted to linger away in prison, under the benefit, as it was called, of a reprieve.

Mr. Wharton had also the usual baits offered him of life, liberty, and promotion, if he would conform, which he generously rejecting, suffered death, according to sentence, with great constancy at York, the 28th of March, being Easter-Week, 1600.

JOHN RIGBY, Gentleman *

JOHN RIGBY was a younger son of Nicholas Rigby, a gentleman of an ancient family, of Harrock, in the parish of Eccleston in Lancashire, whose circumstances being narrow, obliged him to take to service, where, through human frailty (though he was always a Catholic in his heart), he sometimes went to the Protestant Church, for which he afterwards heartily repented, and confessing himself to Mr. Jones, alias Buckley, then a prisoner, was by him reconciled to God, and from that time lived a very exemplar life, and² i6ooJ was the instrument of the reconciliation of divers others, and amongst the rest, of his own father in his old age. Whilst he was in the service of Sir Edmund Huddlestone^ his daughter, Mrs. Fortescue, widow, was summoned to the Sessions House in the Old Bailey for causes of religion; and she being sick, and not able to appear, sent Mr. Rigby to testify the same for her in that court. Upon which occasion Sir Richard Martin^ one of the commissioners, who had for some time entertained a grudge against Mr. Rigby, began to question him concerning his own religion; and finding him to be a Catholic, and that he refused to go to church, or take the oath of the Queen’s supremacy, he, with the Lord Mayor and the rest of the commissioners, ordered him to Newgate. The next day he was again examined in the Sessions House by the Lord Chief Justice, where he again professed his religion, and withal acknowledged. That he had sometimes gone to the Protestant Church, though he was akoays in heart a Catholic; but being convinced in his own conscience that this way of acting was not consistent with his soul's salvation, he had been reconciled by Mr. Buckley, in the Clink, and for two or three years had not gone to church, to which examination the Lord Chief Justice caused him to set his hand. What follows is an abstract of an account written by himself in prison of his trial and examinations.

‘ Then my lord commanded the keeper to take me and to put on me an iron chain, which, when it came, I willed him to put it on in God’s name, and said aloud, / would not change my chain for my Lord Mayor's great chain; and I gave the fellow sixpence for his pains. By-and-by my Lord Chief Justice sent me word to provide myself, for I was to be arraigned forthwith. I bid the messenger tell his Lordship, I never heard so good news in my life before; and so I was commanded to the common gaol. But (expecting every day to be arraigned) the Tuesday following I was removed to the White Lion in Southwark, and was there quiet till the 3d of March. \N.B. — He was first examined and committed on the 14th of February 1599-1600.] And Wednesday, the 3d of March, in the common Sessions, with a number of felons, I was brought to my trial. In the forenoon I was called and appeared, but nothing was said to me. When the justices went to dinner we also went home to prison; and being at dinner. Justice Gaudy sent his man for me, and I went willingly with my keeper; and so coming to them at Justice Dale's house, where the judges dined. Justice Gaudy called me to him and asked my name, which I told him. Were you not committed by Lord Chief Justice and examined by him? Yea, my lord. You know your own hand? so he shewed me my hand, and I said, This is my hand; I pray you give me leave to speak for myself. You shall, said he; I well perceive you have thought better of the matter. I am told by one of my lord of Canterbury's gentle-men that you are now sorry for what you have done, and willing to become a good subject and go to church. If you will do so, her Majesty is merciful. How say you 1 Will you go to church now } No, my lord. Good my lord, whosoever informed your lordship that ever I did yet yield in any point of my profession was not my friend, nor ever had my consent thereto. I assure you, my lord, I am a true subject, and obedient to her Majesty and her laws in anything which may not hurt my conscience; but to say that I will go to church, I never will. Yea, rather than your lordships should have any light suspicion of me of such a consent, take my first answer as it is; there is my hand, here is my whole body, and most ready I am and willing to seal it with my blood. We were told, said one of the judges, you were a simple young man, and willing to recant; but we see now thou art a resolute, wilful fellow, and there is no remedy, but law must proceed. Let me have law, in the name 0/ Jesus; God's will be done.

‘ The next day being Thursday, we went again to the Sessions at St. Margaret's Hill, where, about two in the afternoon, I was called to the bar. About an hour after I was called again and bidden to hold up my hand, which I did. My indictment was read, and it was a sharp one. Then my lord bid me speak, and I answered briefly in this manner:

‘ 1st, Whereas I am charged in my indictment that I was reconciled — it is very true; to God Almighty I so was, and I think lawfully might be; and, as I remember, it is also allowed in your Book of Common Prayer, in the Visitation of the Sick, that if any man find himself burthened in conscience he should make his confession to the minister, which confession manifesteth a breach between God and his soul, and by this humble confession he craveth pardon of his sins and reconciliation to God again by the hands of his minister’.

‘ 2dly, Whereas I am charged that I was reconciled from my obedience to her Majesty and to the Romish religion, I will depose the contrary; for I was never reconciled from any obedience to my Princess, for I obey her still; nor to any religion, for although I sometimes went to church against my will, yet was I never of any other religion than the Catholic, and therefore needed no reconciliation to leligion.

‘ ^dly. Whereas in my former answers I said I went to church, it is true; for fear of temporal punishment I so did, but never minded to fall from the old religion, and therefore needed no reconciliation to religion.

i6oo]

‘ ^thly and lastly, I humbly beseech your good lordships, as you will answer it before God, to explicate the meaning of the statute to the jury; if the meaning thereof be to make it treason for a man fallen into the displeasure of God through his sins, to he reconciled to God again, by him to whom God hath committed the authority of reconciliation; if this be treason, God's will be done.

‘ Then said both the judges, It was by a Romish priest, and therefore treason. I answered. It was by a Catholic priest, who had the liberty of the prison, and was free for any man to come to him to relieve him, and therefore by the statute no treason. Again, my lords, if it be not inquired of within a year and a day, there can be no advantage taken against me by this statute, if you wrong me not. Whereto replied one that sat under the judge. All this will not serve thy turn, for the jury must find it treason. Nay, then, sir, said I, if it must be, let it be; God's will be done. Then said Justice Gaudy, Her Majesty and her laws are merciful; if you will yet conform yourself, and say here, before the jury go forth, that you will go to church, we will proceed no further. My lord, said I, if that be all the offence I have committed, as I know it is, and if there be no other way but going to church to help it, I would not wish your lordship to think I have {as I hope) risen thus many steps towards heaven, and now will wilfully let my foot slip and fall into the bottomless pit of hell. I hope in Jesus He will strengthen me rather to suffer a thousand deaths, if I had so many lives to lose. Let your law proceed. Then, said the judge to the jury. You must consider of it; you see what is said; you cannot but find it treason by the law. And so they went forth, and stood not long to think upon the matter, but came again, and I was called and bidden again hold up my hand. They bid the jury look on the prisoner, whether he is guilty or no. And who shall speak for you? They all said. The foreman. He spoke so softly that I could not hear him. I willed him to speak up and not be afraid. Then he said, Guilty; to the which I said with a loud voice, Laus tibi, Domine! Rex ceternce glorice. When the rest were arraigned, and judgment was to be given, I was first called; and Justice Gaudy said. What canst thou say for thyself, wherefore thou shouldst not have judgment of death I answered. If that which before I have said will not serve, I can say no more. Good Rigby, said he, think not I seek your death. Will you yet go to church? No, my lord. Why then, said he, judgment must pass. With a good will, my lord, said I. Then he pronounced sentence, as you know the manner is, which, when he had ended, I said, Deo gratias; all is but one death, and a fleabite in comparison of that which it pleased my sweet Saviour J esus to suffer for my salvation. I humbly thank your lordship for your great pains, and I freely forgive your lordship and the poor jury, and all other persecutors whatsoever. Well said, saith he; indeed you shew your charity; and then gave judgment to the rest; and when he had done he called us together, willing us to send for a minister and provide for death. I desired his lordship. To spare rny presence, and bestow that counsel elsewhere; for I hope I am as well provided as by his exhortation I should be. If you be, said he, it is the better for you; God speed you well! And so we parted. I pray God forgive them all, and amend them, if it be His holy will. Amen.’

Thus much he wrote himself in prison, and sent it to a dear friend who keepeth safe the original, saith Dr. Worthington; for Judge Gaudy procured him a reprieve, and he continued in prison till the next assizes, when, on Thursday, the 19th of June, Justice Kingsmel now sitting upon criminal matters, and Justice Gaudy upon civil only, Mr. Rigby was again brought to the bar, and asked by the judge whether he would yet go to church or no. He answered, / thank God I am the same man that I was. It is not lawfid to go to your church. I will not go to it. Then thou must die, said the judge, for longer reprieve thou canst not have. He answered. My lord, that is the thing which I desire and look for; but I think myself far unworthy to die for so good a cause. The judge perceiving he had no irons on his legs sharply rebuked the keeper, who thereupon brought a strong pair of shackles, which Mr. Rigby taking into his hands, kneeling down and making the sign of the cross, kissed them; and then the keeper’s man riveted them on very fast on both his legs, and so they continued all that day and the night following. The next day he was brought again to the Sessions House, where, after he had stood awhile, the irons fell off his legs upon the ground, at which he smiled, and told his keeper. His shackles were fallen off, and bid him Rivet them on faster, which he did, as he thought, very fast; but within a little time, they fell off again; and then he called again upon his keeper, and desired him. To make them faster. For I esteem them, said he, jewels of too great price to be lost. The keeper’s man that had put them on twice before, being much amazed, refused to put them on any more, so that the keeper ordered another of his men to do it. Then Mr. Rigby, remembering that a Catholic maid called Mercy had that morning told him, that in the night she saw in her dreams his irons fall off from his legs, said to his keeper. Now the maid's dream is found to be true. What the judges thought on the matter we know not; but they spoke no more to the prisoner; but after much arguing among themselves, Judge Kingsmel concluded that he should die; upon which occasion Judge Gaudy was by some seen to weep. Mr. Rigby being asked what he thought of that falling off of his irons, which most men thought to be miraculous, answered, He hoped it was a token that the hands of his mortality should shortly he loosed, as indeed it proved. He spent the remainder of his time in preparing himself by religious exercises for his last end; and a friend asking him in what dispositions he found himself at the approach of death, he answered, / thajik our Lord, in very great comfort and consolation of mind.

On Saturday, in the morning, being the 21st oijune, word was brought him that he was to die that day. He answered very cheerfully, Deo gratias. It is the best tidings that ever was brought me since I was born. The minister of St. George^ s coming to him upon this occasion, and offering his help, Mr. Rigby courteously thanked him, but told him. We two, sir, are opposite in religion, and therefore I must not communicate with you in matters of faith. I have long looked for death. I am prepared, fully resolved, and most ready to offer up my life for so worthy a cause. Fare you well, sir; I pray God make you a good man. Between five and six in the afternoon he was called for by one of the officers, and sweetly taking his leave of the Catholics, his fellow prisoners, he desired they would help him with their prayers in this his journey towards his true country. Then going down into the yard where the hurdle waited for him, he knelt down by it, making the sign of the cross, and was beginning to say some prayers, but was interrupted by Mr. More, the Under- Sheriff’s deputy. So rising up, and striking his hand upon the horse, he cheerfully said. Go thy ways; this is the joy fullest day that ever I knew. Then signing himself again with the sign of the cross, he laid himself upon the hurdle, showing so much alacrity in his smiling countenance that the standers by asked him if he laughed from his heart. Yes, verily, said he, from my heart; and hear witness with me, all good people, that I am now forthwith to give my life only for the Catholic cause. Mr. More told him. You die for treason, for being reconciled by a Seminary priest. Yes, said he, sir, hut neither can that he treason, nor yet do I die for that only; for, as you know, the judge oftentimes offered to save my life if I would go to church. Then pulling his hat down over his eyes, he said. In the name of our Lord go on, and so settled himself to his devotions.

The place designed for execution was St. Thomases Watering. On his way thither, he was met by the Earl of Rutland and Captain Whitlock on horseback, who, coming to the hurdle, asked him what he was, of what age, and for what cause he was to die. He answered,

My name is John Rigby, a poor gentleman of the house of Harrock, in Lancashire; my age about thirty years; and my judgment and condemnation to this death is only and merely for that I answered the judge that I was reconciled, and for that I refused to go to church. The captain wished him to do as the Queen would have him, and conform; and turning to the Sheriff’s deputy, conferred with him about the matter. Then riding again with the Earl to the hurdle, and causing it to be stopped a little, he asked Mr. Rigby, Are you a married man or a bachelor? Sir, said he, I am a bachelor; and more than that, I am a maid. ■ That is much, said the captain, for a man of your years; you must have strove much against your own flesh. / would be loath, said Mr. Rigby, to speak anything contrary to the truth; I am indeed a maid, and that is more than I needed to say. The captain concluded. Then I see thou hast worthily deserved a virgin’s crown; I pray God send thee the kingdom of heaven: I desire thee pray for me. And so they rid to the place of execution, and stayed there till the officers were about to drive away the cart, and then posted away, much admiring his courage and constancy. The captain often related these particulars, and declared that he had never seen his fellow for modesty, patience, and resolution in his religion.

When Mr. Rigby was taken off the hurdle and brought to the cart, he knelt down and said aloud his Pater, Ave, Credo, and Confiteor, in the last of which he was interrupted by the ruder sort of people, crying out against him for praying to saints. When the executioner helped him up into the cart he gave him an angel of gold, saying. Here, take this in token that I freely forgive thee and all others that have been accessory to my death. Then viewing the multitude, which was very great, and making the sign of the cross with a cheerful countenance, holding his hands before his breast, he spent a little time in silent prayer. When the rope was to be put about his neck he first kissed it, and then began to speak to the people, but was interrupted by More, the Sheriff’s deputy, bidding him pray for the Queen, which he did very affectionately. Then the deputy asked him. What traitors dost thou know in England? God is my witness, said he, I know none. What! saith the deputy again, If he will confess nothing, drive away the cart — which was done so suddenly that he had no time to say anything more, or recommend his soul again to God, as he was about to do.

The deputy shortly after commanded the hangman to cut him down, which was done so soon that he stood upright on his feet like to a man a little amazed, till the butchers threw him down. Then i6oo] THOMAS SPROTT AND THOMAS HUNT coming perfectly to himself, he said aloud and distinctly, God forgive you. Jesus receive my soul. And immediately another cruel fellow standing by, who was no officer, but a common porter, set his foot upon Mr. Rigby's throat, and so held him down that he could speak no more. Others held his arms and legs whilst the executioner dismembered and bowelled him. And when he felt them pulling out his heart, he was yet so strong that he thrust the men from him who held his arms. At last they cut off his head and quartered him, and disposed of his head and quarters in several places in and about Southwark. The people, going away, corhplained very much of the barbarity of the execution; and generally all sorts bewailed his death.

His execution is mentioned by Howes upon Stow, in his Chronicle.

THOMAS SPROTT and THOMAS HUNT,

Priests.³

Thomas SPROTT was bom in the parish of Skelsmergh, near Keyidal, in Westmorland, and performed his higher studies in the English College of Doway he was ordained priest in

1596, and sent the same year upon the English mission.

Thomas Hunt was born in Norfolk, and was a secular priest of the English College of Seville, who, being sent upon the English mission, and there falling into the hands of the persecutors, was committed prisoner to Wisheach Castle, from whence he, with five more, made their escape some few months before his second apprehension and execution — the history of which is as follows: —

In the month of July, 1600, search being made in and about Lincoln after certain malefactors who had committed a robbery, the searchers found, at the Saracen's Head, in Lincoln, Mr. Sprott and Mr. Hunt, strangers to the people of the house, and close up in their chambers, whom they — vehemently suspecting to be the men they were seeking after — took up upon suspicion, and strictly examined what were their names, their places of abode, what business they followed, what brought them thither, what acquaintance they had in that city or neighbourhood, &c. So that, to be rid of the importunity of these questions, and of the suspicion of being robbers they confessed, That they were Catholics^ who had come thither in hopes of living there more quietly for a time than they could do where they were more k7iown. The officers searched their mails, and found there the holy oils and two breviaries, which gave suspicion* that they were priests. Whereupon they were brought before the Mayor, and by him examined upon these four articles — ist^ Whether they had been at the church within these ten or twelve years.

zdlyy If the Pope should invade the realm, whether they would take part with him or with the Queen.

^dly, Whether they did take the Queen to be supreme governess of the Church of Eiigland.

\thly^ Whether they were priests or no.

To these questions they both returned the same answers in substance, viz., to the first — That they were brought up from their infancy in the Catholic faith, and were never at the Protestant Church, To the second — That when such a case shall happen, which is not likely, they will answer it. To the third — That the Pope is supreme head upo7i earth of the Catholic Church throughout the world. To the fourth they answered as before — That they were Catholics; and further they thought themselves 7iot bound to answer.

Nevertheless, upon this article they were immediately arraigned, it being the time of the Su7nmer Assizes, before Judge Glandvil; and an indictment was drawn up against them that they were Seminary priests, and consequently traitors. And though their being priests was neither proved nor confessed, nor any witness produced to avouch it, the judge directed the jury to find them guilty, which they did — though, as it seems, with great repugnance of conscience, perfectly compelled to it by the sharp words of the judge, who was very positive in the matter, and told them they must needs bring in their verdict so. Soon after the judge gave sentence of death according to the usual form, as in cases of high treason; which the servants of God joyfully heard, giving God thanks for so great a favour, and pardoning their persecutors. But both before and after their condemnation they were attacked by some Protestant preachers upon the articles of their religion, whom they so confuted and confounded, that the magistrates commanded the ministers to hold their peace. These made use of their own far stronger arguments of hurdles, halters, knives, and fire, which these two servants of God courageously met and gloriously conquered.

They were executed at Lincoln some time in July, 1600.

‘ Not many days after,’ says Dr. Worthington, in his relation i6oo] THOMAS SPROTT AND THOMAS HUNT printed and published in the beginning of the following year, p. 89, ‘ Mr. Glandvil, their judge, received also his own judgment; for, riding abroad for his pleasure near his own house with one man, suddenly, in the plain field, he fell from his horse to the ground — the horse not stumbling at all, but running away a great pace. The servant stepped quickly to his master, and essaying to help him up, found him dead; whereat, being much astonished, he posted as fast as he could to the next village crying. That his master was dead. The people, in haste running to the place, found it so; and not knowing who else could be charged with it, they presently apprehended the same servant upon suspicion that he had murdered his master. But upon viewing the corpse, they saw evidently that no man had done this act; for they found part of his brains strangely coming forth both at his nose and mouth, not having any other hurt in his head, but towards the right side, behind, a great dimple or hole, wherein a child might have put his fist — yet neither his skin nor his hat broken at all, nor a hair of his head wanting, to any man’s judgment. They found likewise his right shoulder sore scorched, like burned leather, as black as pitch; and from thence along upon his arm, a great gash, as if it had been made with a knife, but not deep; and in the calf of his leg, on the same side, they found another hole about an inch broad and three inches deep; and which is most strange, not so much as a thread of his hose nor of his other apparel could be found to be broken. The horse, that ran away, with much ado was taken, but could by no means be brought near the place where his master fell down.’ So far the printed relation.

The execution of Mr. Sprott and Mr. Hunt is mentioned by Howes upon Stow in his Chronicle.

ROBERT NUTTER and EDWARD THWING,

Priests.^

Robert nutter, brother to Mr. John Nutter, who suffered in 1584, was born in Lancashire, and performed his higher studies in Doway College, during its residence at Rhemes, where he was ordained priest, December 21, 1581, with Mr. George Haydock⁴

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6oo and divers others; and in the beginning of the following year was sent upon the English mission. Here I find him prisoner in the Tower in February, 1583-4, where he was put down into a dungeon for seven-and-forty days, loaded with chains for the greatest part of the time, and twice tortured; and in November following was lodged again in the same hole, and remained there for two months and fourteen days. See the Journal of Things transacted in the Tower from 1580 to 1585, published with Dr. Saunders and Mr. Rishton's History of the Schism. In 1585 he was sent into banishment with many other priests, ‘ who being brought by their keepers from their several prisons to the Tower Wharf,' says Dr. Worthington (who was himself one of the number), p. 91, ‘ and there commanded to enter into a ship ready provided to carry them into banishment, declared publicly to the commissioners. That they did not accept of that banishment as of any grace or mercy at all; for they had not committed any fault, neither against their Queen nor country, as this pretended mercy falsely supposed; and, therefore, in express terms, required rather to be tried and to answer their accusers at Westminster and at Tyburn, than to be thus carried against their wills out of their native country from their friends and neighbours, whom they were to serve according to their priestly functions, — affirming, moreover. That though perforce they were carried away, yet they would assuredly return to the same work as soon as God and their spiritual superiors would permit them so to do.'

Mr. Nutter, for his part, was as good as his word; and after having visited his old mother college at Rhemes, and made some short stay there, he returned upon the mission. He fell again, not long after, into the hands of the persecutors, and was committed to Wisbeach Castle, where I find him prisoner in 1587. Here he continued till about-the beginning of 1600, when, with Mr. Hunt and four others, he found means to escape. Then going into Lancashire he w^as a third time apprehended, and in the Summer Assizes, 1600, brought upon his trial, condemned, barely upon account of his priestly character, and executed at Lancaster, July 26.

Dr. Champney gives him this short eulogium — that he w^as a man of a strong body, but of a stronger soul, wTo rather despised than conquered death, and went before his companion, [Mr. Thwing,] to the gallows wdth as much cheerfulness and joy as if he had been going to a feast, to the astonishment of the spectators.

Edward Thwing was born of an ancient family at Hurst, near York. He was first an alumnus of the College of Rhemes, from whence he was sent to Rome in 1587, but was obliged for his health i6oo] ROBERT NUTTER AND EDWARD THWING to return again to Rhemes. Here he was presented to holy orders and ordained priest at Laon, December 20, 1590, being at that time, as appears by the Doway Diary, master of the Hebrew and Greek tongues, and professor of rhetoric in the College. He was sent upon the English mission from Doway in 1597, after the College was returned to that University. Dr. Champney^ who was personally acquainted with him, and his contemporary at the College, gives him this character — That he was a man of admirable meekness, and of no less piety, religion, patience, and mortification; that his patience (amongst the rest of his virtues, which rendered him amiable to all) was very remarkable in suffering with wonderful tranquillity a most painful and tedious infirmity from an ulcer in the knee, which he had to struggle with for a long time whilst he was at Rhemes and Doway, for which the physicians could find no remedy; that, after his return to England, he was a most diligent labourer in the vineyard of his Lord, till his apprehension and commitment to Lancaster Castle; from whence he thus wrote to Dr. Worthington, at that time President of Doway College: —

‘ Myself am now a prisoner for Christ in Lancaster Castle, expecting nothing but execution at the next assizes. I desire you to commend me to the devout prayers of my friends with you, that by their help I may consummate my course to God’s glory and the good of my country. I pray God prosper you and all yours for ever,

‘ From my prison and Paradise, this last of May, 1600.

‘ E. Thwing.’

And in another letter a few days before his death, he thus writes to the same: —

‘ This day the judges come to Lancaster, where I am in expectation of a happy death, if it so please God Almighty. I pray you commend me most dearly to all your good priests and scholars, whose good endeavours God always prosper, to His own more glory. Ego autem jam delibor et tempus resolutionis mece instat. Before this comes unto you I shall, if God makes me worthy, conclude an unhappy life with a most happy death. Omnia possum in eo qui me confortat.

‘ From Lancaster Castle, the 21st of July, this holy year 1600. All yours in Christ, ‘ Edw. Thwing.’

He was condemned barely on account of his priesthood, and suffered with great constancy, at the same time with Mr. Nutter, viz., July 26, 1600.

THOMAS PALASOR, Priest.⁵

Thomas PALASOR, or PALLICER, was bom at Ellerton upon Swale j in the parish of Boulton^ in the county of York^ and performed his studies abroad, partly in the College or Seminary then residing at Rhemes^ from whence he was sent into Spain in 1592, and partly in the College of Valladolid, where he was made priest, and from whence he was sent upon the English mission. Dr. Worthington gives him the character of a virtuous and learned priest. He was apprehended in the house of Mr. John Norton (a gentleman of the family of the Nortons of Norton-Coniers), near Raven's Hall, in the parish of Laymsley. Mr. Norton and his lady were both also apprehended at the same time for harbouring Mr. Palasor, and with them Mr. John Talbot, another Yorkshire gentleman (born at Thornton in Street), for being found in his company, and for aiding and assisting him. They were all brought upon their trials at Durham, in the Su7nmer Assizes, and all condemned to die — Mr. Pallicer for being a Seminary priest, and returning to England contrary to the statute of Elizabeth 27, and the other three for relieving and assisting him. Another lay gentleman was condemned at the same time, and for the same cause; but he, through frailty, consented to go to church, and so saved his life, as the others might have done, if they had yielded to the same conditions, which they generously refusing to do, were all executed at Durham, August the 9th, 1600. Only Mrs. Norton, being supposed to be with child, was reprieved.

The Rev. Mr. Cuthbert Trollop, in a manuscript relation which I have in my hands, writes, that Mr. Pallicer and his companions, ‘ being in prison, were like to be poisoned by the malice of the jailor’s wife; for an empoisoned broth was prepared for them, and first brought to Mr. Pallicer, who offering to taste of it, the bone of mutton in the dish began to run blood in form of crosses and of O’s in the broth, which he wondering at, abstained from eating of it. The maid who brought him the broth, noting this, carried it back to her mistress; she casting some spice over it, sent the broth again by the same maid to Mr. Talbot and Mr. Norton, which they offering also to taste, the blood in like sort issued forth of the meat as before, which caused them likewise to abstain. The servant seeing this again was touched in conscience, and came upon her knees to Mr.

i6oo]

THOMAS PALASOR

Pallicer^ and asked him forgiveness, and desired, for Jesus Christ's sake, that he would make her one of his faith, and instruct her what she had to do to be saved, which he did, resolving her in all points and reconciling her to the Catholic Church. The aforesaid maid, whose name was Mary Day, at that time servant to the jailor, afterwards served a Catholic gentlewoman called Eleanor Forcer^ who informed me of this.’ So far Mr. Trollop.

‘ In the beginning of this same year, 1600, viz., upon the 19th of January,' says Howes in his Chronicle, p. 789, ‘ sixteen priests and four laymen were removed out of divers prisons in and about London, and sent to the Castle of Wisbeach, whereof one was a Bishop of Ireland and another a Franciscan of the Order of Capuchins, who wore his friar’s weed all the way he went,’ &c.

This Capuchin was Father Bennet Canfield, whose name in the world was William Fitch, a gentleman, born at Canfield, in Essex, and brought up to the law in Gray's Inji, whose wonderful conversion to the Catholic faith and call to that religious order, of which, in his time, he was esteemed one of the brightest lights, together with his other virtues, may be seen in his life, translated from the Frefich, and published in our language, a7ino 1623. After three years’ imprisonment he was banished, with divers other priests, and at length died in the odour of sanctity at Roan, anno 1611.

This year also the Catholics, prisoners for their conscience in York Castle, upwards of fifty in number, were, by orders of the Lord Burleigh, then President of the North, once a week dragged by force into the hall of the castle, and there forcibly detained to hear Protestant sermons preached by the Archbishop, and the most eminent of the clergy of that city. This was continued for near twelve months. The behaviour and speeches of the prisoners upon these occasions, and other remarkable passages that then happened, are set down at large in a manuscript of about forty chapters, written by the Rev. Mr. W. Richmont. The issue was, that the preachers finding their eloquence nothing availed, and that the prisoners either stopped their ears or contradicted their discourses, and could not be silenced either by their chains or dungeons, at last concluded, after fifty sermons, to let them alone, and give them no further molestation in this kind.

The chief of these prisoners were Mr. George Raines, priest; William Middleton, of Stockeld; William Stillington, of Kelfield; Richard Danby, of Cave; Richard Fenton, of Burnwallis; Thomas

Gelstrop, of Burrowby, esquires. Michael Jenison, of; James

Rosse, of Igmanthorp; William Gascoign, of Thorp, gentlemen.

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6oi

[ i6oi. ]

JOHN PIBUSH, Priest.⁶

JOHN PIBUSH was born at Thirsk^ in Yorkshire ^ and performed his studies abroad in the English College then residing at Rhemes, Here he was made priest in 1587, and from hence he was sent upon the English mission in 1589. After some time he was apprehended and committed to Gloucester Jail, where he remained till some of the felons, having found means to break through the walls and so make their escape, left a free passage open, through which Mr. Pibush also, and the other prisoners, thought proper to walk out. But, as he was very indifferent upon the matter, he took no care to hide himself, but, travelling on foot on the high road, was the next day again apprehended, and then was carried up to London. Here he was brought upon his trial and condemned, merely on account of his priesthood, but suffered not till seven years after, during which time he was kept prisoner in the King's Bench, and endured very much from the incommodity and unwholesomeness of the place, and the multitude of the prisoners penned up there together, so that his constitution, which was naturally very robust, was so far altered as to contract a most grievous infirmity, in which he would lie sometimes for many hours without sense or motion; insomuch that when he was afterwards executed, his lungs were found so consumed that he could not have lived much longer. But one of his chief sufferings in prison was the continual ill-usage he met with, for a long time, from the brutality of his fellow prisoners, who, not contented with loading him with abuses, reproaches, and injuries, sometimes threatened his life, more particularly when he would be admonishing and rebuking them for their blasphemies and other wickednesses. However, at length, his virtue and patience so far prevailed upon them as well as upon the jailor, that they began to reverence and love him, and to compassionate his sufferings; insomuch that he was permitted to make himself a sort of a separate cell in the common jail, where, by the help of some Catholics who came to visit him, he sometimes said Mass, to the unspeakable comfort of his soul. His name was put in the list of those who, in the beginning of the last year, were to be sent from London to Wisheach Castle; but it seems

MARK BARKWORTH i6oi]

God was determined to honour him with a more glorious crown, for the Lord Chief Justice Popham^ when the list was brought to him, struck out Mr. PibusKs name, no one knew why, nor wherefore.

The same Lord Chief Justice, on the 17th of February of this year, 1601, ordered Mr. Pibush, who had been condemned about seven years before, to be brought to the bar, when nothing less was expected, and asked him what he had to say for himself why he should not suffer death according to sentence. The confessor answered with great constancy and meekness. That he had never in his life committed anything for which he could be justly put to death; that he had been condemned barely for being a Catholic priest; and that he was willing to lay down many lives ^ if he had them ^ for such a cause. Upon this he was ordered back to prison, and commanded to prepare for death. On the next day, being the i8th of February^ he was drawn to St. Thomases Waterings and there was hanged, bowelled, and quartered. He suffered with a constancy worthy of a martyr. His execution is mentioned by Howes upon Stow, in his Chronicle.

MARK BARKWORTH, alias LAMBERT, Priest, O.S.B.⁷

Mark BARKWORTH was bom in Lincolnshire. He was brought up'in the Protestant religion till he was twenty-two years of age, when, going abroad, he was converted to the Catholic faith, and grounded in solid spirituality at Doway, in Flanders, by one Father George, a Flemish Jesuit. He had been, as he writes, a little before his martyrdom, now eight years in the school of Christ, and for the two first was under the instruction and discipline of Dr. Barret, President of the English College then residing at Rhemes, where also he enjoyed the company of those famous confessors — Dr. Arrowsmith, Mr. Lancaster, and Mr. Bradshaw, men, as he says, of excellent lives, now helping him in heaven by their prayers. From thence he went to Spain, where he finished his studies, and was made priest in the English College of Valladolid. ^ After he was sent upon the English mission he quickly fell into the hands of the persecutors, and after many different examinations, and

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6oi letting slip several opportunities of making his escape, he was brought upon his trial at the Old Bailey. The clerk bid him hold up his hand. For what crime? said he. For the crime of priesthood and treason, said the Lord Chief Justice. Why, said Mr. Barkworth, can any one maintain that to be a priest is treason? Was not our Saviour a priest according to the order of Melchisedech? and will any one say that He was a traitor? Though I am of opinion were He to be fudged at this tribunal He would meet with the like treatmeiit as I look for. They went on: Barkworth, hold up thy hand. By whom wilt thou be tried? By God, said he, and by the apostles and evangelists, and all the blessed martyrs and saints in heaven. Not so, said the judge, you must say. By God and my country. What! said he, you mean, my lord, these poor men, pointing to the jury; I will never let my blood lie at their door, for you will oblige them to bring in their verdict against me, right or wrong, or lay so heavy a fine upon them in the Star Chamber that they will scarcely be able to pay it in their whole lives. The judge then put the question to him. Art thou a priest, yea or no? I will neither say, said he, that I am a priest, or that I am not. Well, then, said the judge, I see thou art a priest. If you can prove that, said Mr. Barkworth, I am a dead man; your laws stand against me, and I expect no favour at your hands; neither do I fear death, trusting in the grace of God. Nay, if I had ten lives, I would most willingly lay them all down for Him who suffered so many torments and so cruel a death for my sins. Tell me, then, said the judge, if thou wilt not confess thyself to be a priest, what art thou? A Catholic, said he, making the sign of the cross; and were I worthy to be a priest I should look upon myself placed in a dignity not inferior to that of angels; for priests have a power given them of remitting and retaining sins, in God's name, which was never given to angels. With that all the company laughed; and the question was again put to him as before — By whom he would be tried, and he answ^ered as before. By God and the holy apostles, &c., and not, said he, by these unlearned 7nen. I was brought up to learning from a boy, and after taking degrees among the learned, have spent in studies fully seven years. Let learned men judge in my cause, and not such as are unlearned. Will you then be tried, said they, by a jury of ministers? Hell-fire, said he, will try them; my cause is not to be trusted to them. You would, then, said the judge, be tried by priests? That is right, said Mr, Barkworth. Call in, then, said the judge, a jury of them. Your lordship, said he, knows that a complete jury of them may be found in Wisbeach Castle. With this the Lord Chief Justice with-drew; and the Recorder, without any more ceremony, neither taking i6oi]

MARK BARKWORTH the depo3ition of witnesses, nor having the confession of the accused, nor waiting for the verdict of the jury, pronounced sentence upon the prisoner as in cases of high treason; which as soon as Mr. Bark-worth heard, he fell upon his knees, and lifting up his eyes to heaven, said. Thanks he to God.

He received the sentence of death, says Father More, with a joyful and smiling countenance, and making the sign of the cross, began a hymn of joy, and then gave thanks to the judge. After which, addressing his discourse to the standers by, he exhorted them, as they professed themselves Christians, to show forth by their works what they professed in their words, not fearing what the world can do against them, since, in effect, to die for the cause of justice and truth is a Christian’s greatest gain; and he cannot even wish for a greater happiness than to shed his blood for Him who so liberally shed His blood for us all. He was sent back to Newgate, and walked through the streets, fettered as he was, with that air of magnanimity that the crowd inquired whether he was not one of the ringleaders of the Earl of Essex’s riot. No, said Mr. Barkworth, but I am a soldier of Christ, who am to die for His faith.

Mr. Barkworth is commonly challenged by the Benedictine monks for one of theirs; and Father B. kF., a monk of that venerable order, in his manuscript account of the English Congregation, which I have now before me, writes of him as follows: —

‘ As to those who entered the Spanish Congregation (though he neither lived nor was clothed in any monastery, as the Rev. Father Baker affirms), Mr. Mark Barkworth, alias Lambert, challenges the first place.

^ 1 St, Because he was a great furtherer and concurrer with those who engaged amongst the Spanish monks.

‘ zdly. Because in i6oi, after frequent occasions and even provocations to make an escape, after nine several examinations before several tribunals, &c., being condemned for his faith, to make the nation remember how it received the said holy faith, and to manifest the secrets of his heart and intentions in regard of the Order of St. Bennet, he chose to be drawn to Tyburn in the Benedictine habit, which by some means he had procured and gotten, and had his tonsure accordingly made, &c.;’ by which it appears that Mr. Barkworth was a Benedictine, at least in desire if not in effect.

As to the circumstances of his death, they are thus related by the historians of the Society of Jesus, upon occasion of Father Roger Filcock, who died at the same time and place. Mr. Barkworth and Mr. Filcock were both drawn together upon the same hurdle from

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6oi

Newgate to Tyhtirn. When they were put up into the cart, Mr. Barkworthy with a joyful accent, sung those words of the royal prophet, Hcec dies qiiam fecit DominuSy exultemus; and Mr. Filcock went on in the same tone, Et Icetemur in ea. Then Mr. Barkworth declared how ready he was to lay down even a thousand lives, if he had them, for his faith; and protested. That he forgave y with all his hearty the Queen and all that were in any way accessory to his death y and wished to have them with him in eternal glory. Then he recommended himself to the prayers of the Catholics, and the cart was drawn from under him. Here some cruel wretch, fearing lest the weight of his body should put the martyr too soon out of his pain, for he was tall and bulky, set his shoulders under him to bear up at least some part of the weight, so that he was cut down whilst he was yet alive; and even when the butcher was seeking for his heart, he pronounced these words, O Gody be merciful to me.

He suffered February the 27th, 1601. His head is kept by the English Benedictines at their convent at Douay.

Father More relates of Mr. Barkworth that when Mr. Flemingy one of the counsel for the Queen, told him at the bar. That he was a priest y and wore upon his forehead the mark of the beast y he replied, ‘ / am a Christian y and wear on my forehead the sign of the cross. By this sign I am confirmed against the devil and heretics — God's enemies. I fear not your words nor your threats. I confess and adore one God. He created me to serve Himy and serve Him I cannot in any other but in the Catholic faith. This faith I profess. With the heart men believe unto justice, but with the mouth confession is made unto salvation. For this faith I now desire to die more than I ever desired to live. No death can be more precious than that which is undergone for this faith y which faith Christ taught y and a hundred thousand martyrs have sealed with their blood.'

ROGER FILCOCK, Priest, S.J *

Roger filcock was a native of Sandwichy in Kent. He performed his studies abroad, partly in the College of Doway or Rhemes y and partly in that of Valladolid in Spain y where, after having given great examples of virtue, to the edification of all that knew him, he was advanced to holy orders and made priest. He had⁸ i6oi]

ROGER FILCOCK for some time a strong inclination to enter into the Society of Jesus; but his admission was deferred until some trial had been made of him upon the English mission, to which he was sent in 1598; where, after having been sufficiently recommended by two years’ labours in the midst of dangers, Father Garnet^ the Superior of the English Jesuits, consented to receive him into the Society and to send him over into Flanders^ there to make his noviceship. But this was prevented by his being apprehended and committed to Newgate^ from whence he was brought out to his trial on the 23 d of February ^ 1600-1. And though he neither confessed nor denied his being a priest, and no evidence appeared against him; yet he was brought in guilty, and had sentence to die, as in cases of high treason. His fellow confessor, Mr. Barkworth^ who was condemned a few hours before him, writes thus of Father Filcock^ in a letter indited a little while before his death: —

‘ The holy confessor of Christy Mr. Arthur^'' (this was the name under which Father Filcock screened himself upon the mission), ‘ was always one of my chiefest and dearest friends, as well formerly when he was at liberty as now in prison. A man exceedingly humble, and of extraordinary patience, piety, and charity. My mind tells me that we shall die together, who have so long lived together.’ So Mr. Barkworth. And so it happened, for they were both, as we have seen, drawn together to Tyburn ^ February 27, where Mr. Bark-worth was first butchered before the eyes of Father Filcock; who, so far from being discouraged or terrified with that scene of blood, took occasion from thence of more heartily aspiring after the like felicity, crying out with the apostle, I desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ. His desire was not long deferred; when, after a short prayer, he cheerfully yielded himself up to the executioner, and the cart being drawn away, he was hanged and then cut down, dismembered, bowelled, and quartered.

ANN LINE, Gentlewoman.'^

She was a widow gentlewoman, of an infirm constitution of body, troubled with almost continual headaches, and withal inclining to dropsy, and so ill every spring and fall that her friends at each of these seasons feared she would be carried off by⁹

R

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6oi death; but her soul was strong and vigorous, and ever tending by spiritual exercises to Christian perfection. Her devotion was unfeigned; she received the Blessed Sacrament at least once a week, and always with abundance of tears. Her conversation was edifying, willingly discoursing on spiritual subjects, and not on worldly vanities; and what was particularly remarkable in her was the desire she had of ending her days by martyrdom; on which account she bore a holy envy to priests and others, who seemed to be in a fairer way to that happy end than she, or any other of her sex, were; of which very few had suffered in this reign. However she told her confessor, some years before her death. That Mr. Thomson, [Blake-burn,] a former confessor of herSy who ended his days by martyrdom in 1586, had promised her thaty if God should make him worthy of that glorious endy he would pray for her that she might obtain the like happiness. She also related to her confessor a vision which she had seen of our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, bearing His cross and inviting her to follow Him; which seemed to promise her this martyrdom to which she aspired, and which she at last obtained in the manner following: —

On Candlemas Dayy 1601, the pursuivants, having some intelligence, or suspecting that Mrs. Line entertained a priest, beset her house at the very time that Mass was actually beginning. However, as the door was strongly barred and fastened, they were forced to wait some time before they could come in; and in the mean time the priest, [Mr. Pagey] had leisure to unvest himself and make his escape. After they broke in they searched every corner of the house, and seized upon everything that they imagined to savour of popery, but could find no priest. However, they hurried away Mrs. Line to prison, and with her Mrs. Gage (daughter to Baron Copley) y whom they found in the house. Mrs. Gagey by the interest of a certain nobleman, was after some time set at liberty; but Mrs. Line was brought upon her trial at the Old Bailey before the Lord Chief Justice Popham — a bitter enemy of the Catholics. She was carried to her trial in a chair, being at that time so weak and ill that she could not walk. The evidence against her was very slender, which was the testimony of one Harriot y who deposed that he saw a man in her house dressed in white, who, as he would have it, was certainly a priest. However, any proof it seems was strong enough with Mr. Popham against a Papist; and the jury, by him directed, brought in Mrs. Line guilty of the indictment, viz.y of having harboured or entertained a Seminary priest. According to which verdict the judge pronounced sentence of death upon the prisoner, i6oi]

THURSTAN HUNT, ETC.

and sent her back to Newgate to prepare herself for execution. Here she acknowledged that, the day before her condemnation, God had given her a foresight of this happiness. When reading her hours in her primer she perceived a light and delightful brightness upon and round her books, which she interpreted to be a sign of her future triumph, though she would not speak of it till after she was condemned. When the keeper acquainted her with the dead- warrant being signed, and when afterwards she was carried out to execution, she shewed not the least commotion or change in her countenance. At Tyburn^ when she was just ready to die, she declared to the standers by, with a loud voice, ‘ / am sentenced to die for harbouring a Catholic priest, and so far I am from repentmg for having so done, that I wish, with all my soul, that where I have entertained one, I could have entertained a thousand.' She suffered before the two priests; and Mr. Barkworth, whose combat came on the next, embraced her dead body whilst it was yet hanging, saying, ‘ O blessed Mrs. Line, who hast now happily received thy reward! Thou art gone before us, but we shall quickly follow thee to bliss, if it please the Almighty.'

She was executed February 27, 1601.

THURSTAN HUNT and ROBERT MIDDLETON, Priests, and NICHOLAS TICHBURN, Layman.¹⁰

Mr. THURSTAN HUNT was a gentleman by birth, born at Carleton Hall, near Leeds, in Yorkshire, and brought up in Doway College, during its residence at Rhemes, where he was ordained priest by the Cardinal de Guise, April 20, 1584, and sent from Rhemes upon the English mission in 1585. His labours seem to have been chiefly in Lancashire, where, attempting with some others to rescue a priest whom the officers were carrying to prison, he himself was apprehended, and being found to be a priest, was sent up to London, together with Mr. Robert Middleton (a gentleman of the same character, who had fallen into their hands about the same time), who was a native of York and a priest of the College of Seville, in Spain. They were quickly sent back to be tried and executed in Lancashire, where they had chiefly bestowed their missionary labours.

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6oi

Here they were sentenced to die, as in cases of high treason, merely on account of their priesthood; and here they suffered, in consequence of this sentence, at Lancaster, some time in March i6oi.

This year I find also two other Catholics put to death by the penal statutes, for rescuing a priest out of the hands of an officer. These were Nicholas Tichhurn, gentleman, born at Hartley, in Hampshire, and Thomas Hackshot, layman, born at Muresley, in Buckinghamshire. Dr. Champney, who only makes mention of the latter in his manuscript history, relates the story in this manner: — Mr. Hackshot, a stout young man, understanding that Mr. lliomas Tichburn, priest, prisoner on account of his character, was upon some occasion to be conducted by one only keeper or officer through a certain street, planted himself there, waiting for their coming, and knocking the keeper down, gave the priest opportunity to escape. However, he himself made not such haste away, but the officer, who had been stunned with the blow, coming to himself and crying aloud. Stop the traitor! stop the traitor! caused him to be apprehended and dragged to the prison from whence he was conducting the priest; where he was cast into the dungeon and afflicted with divers torments, which he endured with great courage and fortitude, till at length he was brought upon his trial and condemned to die.

He suffered with constancy at Tyburn, August 24, 1601; and with him Mr. Nicholas Tichburn, for being aiding and assisting in the rescuing of his kinsman.

Footnotes

1. Ven. Christopher Wharton. — From a printed Relation of Sixteen Martyrs, published by Dr. Thomas Worthington in 1601; from the Douay Diaries and Catalogues; and from Dr. Champney’s Manuscript; see also Lives of E. M.; Catholic Encyclopcedia, ↩

2. Ven. John Rigby. — From Dr. Worthington’s printed account of his martyrdom, published the following year; see also Lives of E. M.; Foley, Records, v. ↩

3. Ven. Thomas Sprott and Thomas Hunt. — From Dr. Worthington’s Relation of Sixteen Martyrs, published at Douay in 1601; the Bishop of Chalcedon’s Catalogue; and Raissius’s Catalogue of the Martyrs of Douay College; see also Catholic Encyclopcedia. ↩

4. Ven. Robert Nutter and Edward Thwing, or Thweng. — From Dr. Worthington’s Relation of Sixteen Martyrs, printed in 1601; and Dr. Champney’s Manuscript; and the Douay Diary; see also Lives of E. M.; Catholic Encyclopcedia; Foley, Records, v'.; Devas, Dominican Martyrs of Great Britain. ↩

5. Ven. Thomas Palasor or Pallicer. — From Dr. Worthington’s Relation of Sixteen Martyrs; from the Bishop of Chalcedon’s Catalogue; and from a Dcuay Manuscript; see also Lives of E. M.; C.R.S., iv.; Catholic Encyclopcedia. ↩

6. Ven. John Pibush. — From Dr. Worthington’s Relation of Sixteen Martyrs; Chalcedon’s Catalogue; and Dr. Champney’s Manuscript see also Lives of E. M.; Acts of E. M.; Foley, Records, vii.; Catholic Encyclopcedia. ↩

7. Ven. Mark Barkworth, alias Lambert. — From Arnoldus Raissius in his Catalogue of Douay Martyrs; and from Father More’s History of the English Province of the Society of Jesus; see also Camm, Life of Roberts; Catholic Encyclopcedia; Gillow; D.N.B. ↩

8. Ven. Roger Filcock. — From the Douay Records; and from the historians of the Society of Jesus; see also Foley, Records, i.; Gillow; D.N B. ↩

9. Ven. Anne Line. — From Dr. Champney’s Manuscript History; see also Lives of E. M.; Life of Gerard; Catholic Encyclopcedia. ↩

10. Ven. Thurstan Hunt and Robert Middleton. — From Dr. Champney’s Manuscripts; and from the Douay Diaries and Catalogues; see also Lives of E. M.; C.R.S. v.; Gillow, Catholic Encyclopcedia; Blacfan, Annates. ↩