The Year 1610

In February y 1610, I find in B. W.’s manuscript concerning the English Benedictine congregation, that F. Sigehert Buckley y the last surviving monk of the Abbey of Westminster y departed this life in the ninety-third year of his age; after having endured forty years’ persecution for the Catholic faith, always shut up in one prison or another.

ROGER CADWALLADOR, Priest.=^

This gentleman, who was commonly known upon the mission by the name of Rogers y was born at Stretton near Sugeres (or Sugwas) in Herefordshire. His father was a yeoman, a man of substance, and Roger was his eldest son and heir; but yet he could by no means be brought to follow the world, but even from a boy was very assiduous in serving God, and learning his book, wherein he surpassed most of his schoolfellows. His desire of improving himself in religion and study carried him beyond the seas, where he entered himself a student in Doway College y at that time residing at Rhemes. Of this college he was an Alumnus y and having made great progress in learning and virtue, he received there most of his orders. For I find him in the Doway Diary ordained sub-deacon at RhemeSy September 21, 1591, and deacon, February 24, 1592. In the August following he was sent into Spain y to the college lately erected at Valladolid y where he finished his studies, and was made priest; and from thence returned home to labour in the vineyard of his Lord about the year 1594.

He is taken notice of by Dr. Pits for his rare genius for learning,¹

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6io and great knowledge in the Greek tongue, out of which he translated Theodor efs Philotheus^ or the Lives of the Fathers of the Syrian Deserts, which work of his is extant in print. He had also a great talent for controversy. His labours in England were employed in his own country of Herefordshire^ where he deservedly gained the character of a pious, prudent, and zealous missioner: and God was pleased to bless his labours with great success, in winning over many souls to Christ and His Church; especially among the poorer sort, for whose comfort and spiritual assistance he spared no pains, night nor day; usually performing his journeys on foot. And this apostolical kind of life he continued for about sixteen years.

‘ This venerable priest,’ says my manuscript relation of his sufferings, ‘ was apprehended on Easter day, i6io, [at the house of Mrs. Winefride Scroope, widow], within eight miles of Hereford^ by James Prichard ^ the Under Sheriff of that county; and brought first to the High Sheriff, and then to the Bishop of the diocese, [Robert Bennet]^ who having long thirsted after his innocent blood, seemed extraordinarily glad of his apprehension.

‘ In his examination before the Bishop, being asked what he was, he answered that this was not a fit interrogation: alleging that a man should by right rather be examined as to what he had done or committed; and in that also he craved the favour which all just laws allow, that they would not go about to wrest matters from himself against himself, having not so much as one accuser to charge him with any thing. This answer not serving his turn, and the Bishop still continuing to beg him upon his conscience to confess whether he was a priest, he acknowledged (without more ado) both his priesthood and his right name. Adding, that he presumed his being a priest would make nothing against him; especially in the presence of a Bishop, whom it did greatly concern to maintain and defend the dignity of priesthood. For, my Lord, said he, either you must yield yourself properly to be a priest, or I can safely prove that you are no Bishop. Which he offered to make good, if they would bring him books, plentifully citing contents out of the Fathers fit for his purpose. But the books they would not bring to decide the contention. Only the Bishop seemed much to insist upon this one point, that Christ was the only sacrificing priest of the New Testament^ in that proper signification of the name, priest, which is not common to all Christians; so to free himself from being a priest. Which made the blessed martyr return him this witty answer: Make that good, I pray you, my Lord, for so you will prove that I am no more a priest than other men, and consequently no traitor or offender i6io] ROGER^CADWALLADOR against your law. To which the Bishop being able to make no solid reply; one Holkins^ that was sent to cover the Bishop’s disgrace, spoke to this effect. — I assure you, my Lord, it is strange to see the alacrity and courage of those kind of men; I heard His Majesty with his own mouth say in this present Parliament, that the number and courage of this kind of men is so great, that if I should (quoth he) put them to death as often as they fall into my hands, I believe I should never have done.

‘ Then was the disputation turned into a scoffing at his not shaving his head and beard, and at his going like a layman in attire; although his dress were not so light, or any way so fantastical as might give any just cause of offence; yet they spared not to make sport with a little silk point, which tied his hose about his knee. Lastly, the Bishop being angry to see his answers so little regarded (the good man ever smiling to see them so forward), thought it best to use the force of his authority, where his arguments seemed feeble. Whereupon asking whether he would take the oath of allegiance, and he refusing it, he committed him to prison, giving his keeper strict orders to look narrowly to him, thundering out threats against him in case he should escape.

‘ The charge was not more strictly given by the Bishop than put in execution by the keeper, who loaded him with irons both night and day. At first he made him wear a great bolt, besides the heaviest shackles the prison could afford; and when after a while, by reason of his sickness (as it may seem) it was thought fit to ease him of his bolt, yet they would never take away his shackles, but added now and then another pair. Insomuch, that when he was to be removed from Hereford gaol to Leominster^ though he was forced to go all the way on foot, feeble and weak as he was with bad usage and sickness together, yet could he not obtain to be free from shackles in his journey; but it was thought a sufficient favour that a boy was permitted to go by his side, to bear up by a string the weight of some iron-links which were wired to the shackles.

‘ Besides this, when he was condemned to die, which was some months before his martyrdom, he was chained every night to the bed-post with an iron chain. Yea, one day the keeper led him into an obscure and loathsome place and left him there chained to a post where he had no place to sit or ease himself, and no more liberty to walk than the length of the chain allowed him, which was but two yards at most; where he continued till the keeper’s wife, moved with compassion, came in her husband’s absence to let him loose.

‘ In his sickness the keeper and his wife had no care to afford

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6io him any comfort, but rather were vigilant to bar him of all solace that Catholics did offer; insomuch that when his brother’s wife came to bring him some small thing, she could not have access, but was reviled by the keeper’s wife with many opprobrious words, as his concubine, among other bad terms, protesting she would fling what was provided out into the streets, rather than the sick priest should have it. Yea, instead of human comfort, they daily heaped upon him grievances, sometimes giving out that he had yielded, and had promised to recant if he might have a benefice. All which the good man did patiently endure, though he never gave the least occasion to such malicious slanders.

‘ In the extremity of his sickness he was summoned on a sudden to a second dispute before the Bishop, and made to rise out of his bed all in a sweat, so that he swooned before he could get out of doors; and yet in that distress he was brought to dispute with the Bishop and his doctors, who were prepared for him with a cart-load of books, observing, as may be thought, on purpose this time of advantage over him. He answered little; but being pressed about the marriage of priests could not forbear saying. Their ministers might marry as well as other laymen; and if the Catholic Church did debar her clergy from marriage^ why should that grieve them^ whom the prohibition did no ways concern? And though the Bishop made some appearance of being displeased at his man for bringing him before him in that plight; yet when the good man pleaded his indisposition he was not regarded.’

Mr. Cadwallador was condemned barely on account of his priestly character, no other treason being laid to his charge. He wrote several letters in prison; one to Mr. Birket the archpriest; another to "Nix. John Stevens, a neighbouring missioner, recommending to them the care of his flock. Other letters also of much edification he wrote to other friends in the midst of his manifold sufferings, in one of which, written, as it seems, when he was now near his crown, he delivers himself thus: —

‘ Comfort yourselves, my friends, in this that I die in an assurance of salvation; which if you truly love me, as you ought to do, should please you better than to have me alive a little while among you for your content, and then to die with great uncertainty either to be saved or damned. If the manner of my death be shameful, yet not more than my Saviour’s was; if it be painful, yet not more than my Saviour’s was. Only have you care to persevere in God’s true faith and charity, and then we shall meet again to our greater comfort that shall never end. Fare ye well!’

i6io] ROGER CADWALLADOR

The particulars of his death are thus related in the same manuscript which we have quoted above: — ‘ The long-desired day wherein he was to suffer being come at last, he and his bed-fellow Mr. Poweiy a lay Catholic prisoner, left their beds by three o’clock in the morning, and were on their knees in prayer till eight; at which time, and all the day after, the resort of people that came to see him was very great, whose streaming tears, being only strangers to him, gave evident signs of their compassion; many of them protesting that they would undertake to go barefoot many a hundred miles to do him any good; for which their good-will he courteously and kindly thanked them, acquainting them how glorious a thing he looked upon it to die for Christ and the Catholic faith.

‘ Having spent most of the morning in spiritual preparation for his end, about ten o’clock he took some corporal food, viz., a little comfortable broth, and calling for a pint of claret wine and sugar on occasion of a friend that was come to visit him, he made use of the words of Bishop Fisher in the like case, as he said, when he was taking a cordial, before the like combat of death — Fortitudinem meam ad te Domine custodiam; saying in English, he took it to make himself strong to suffer for God. Then, as if he had been to go to a feast, he put on his wedding garment, viz., a new suit of clothes, which a friend had provided for him from top to toe, whom he requited with a good and godly exhortation, counselling him to persevere till death in the Catholic faith, and giving him directions to bestow twelve pence of his money on the porter; for he kept two shillings in his own pocket to bestow on him that was to lead and drive the horse when he went to execution.

‘ Some half an hour before the time of his suffering, the keeper, for a farewell, used all his art and cunning to make him distempered with passion, but found him so well fenced with patience that it was all in vain. So he remained in readiness, expecting the coming of the Sheriff to conduct him to the place of execution; which happened to be about four o’clock in the afternoon; at which time the UnderSheriff came, accompanied among others by the executioners, who were a couple of masons clad in long garments all in black, and their faces covered with the same, which made them seem ugly and dreadful. The champion of Christ, nothing daunted at the sight, at his first coming out of the doors, cheerfully viewed all the company, demanding what was to be done } The Under-Sheriff made answer. Nothing, sir, if you please; for if you will but take the oath of allegiance here, you may save us labour, and yourself much pain; which he constantly refusing to perform, the Under- Sheriff replied,

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6io that then he was to die, and directed him to lie down upon the hurdle. But he seemed loath to concur any way himself to his own death, insinuating that others rather should execute that office; which those two black hell-hounds quickly did, stretching him on the hurdle, and with cords fastening him thereto.

‘ Being thus bound to the hurdle, he made the sign of the cross as well as he could, and quietly betook himself to some heavenly contemplation, continuing in it all the way to the place of execution, and for about a quarter of an hour after his coming thither. Then, the Under-Sheriff thinking he did but delay, and seek to prolong the time, interrupted his devotion, making proffer of life again, if he would take the oath; which he refusing, the Under-Sheriff said, Then^ Lord have mercy on you. Being taken off the hurdle, and brought within sight of the gallows and the block whereon he was to be quartered, they shewed him these and other instruments of death, leading him between two great fires; the one prepared to burn his heart and bowels, the other to boil his head and quarters; and thinking the sight of these did somewhat terrify him, they promised him once more that none of them should touch him, if he would take the oath; but his Christian courage made him persist in his resolution of dying in that quarrel. And yet after he had prayed a while at the foot of the ladder, being wished to make haste, for that night approached; to give satisfaction to some gentlemen present, that often inculcated to him the taking of the oath, he openly protested that he acknowledged and held his majesty that now is, to be the true and lawful king of this realm and other his dominions, and that he was very willing to swear to him all true allegiance; that is, to be true unto him as far as the law of God and conscience did oblige any subject to his sovereign. Whereupon some gentlemen present applauded this his protestation, wishing him to proceed forward to the rest of the oath, &c. No, said the martyr, there is secret poison in the sequel. The gentlemen laboured by many words to persuade him the contrary, and that in the contents of the oath there was no denial meant of the Pope’s spiritual authority, but only a mere acknowledgment of allegiance to the sovereign prince. Then one Richardson, a minister, importuning him to give his opinion about the oath, he answered. It was a matter of no great importance what his private opinion was, and that they should rather regard what was the sentiment of the Church, and that his swearing would neither diminish the Pope’s real authority, nor increase the King’s.

‘ Being helped up the ladder, he began to signify to the people that he was brought there to die for the Catholic faith, and for that i6io] ROGER CADWALLADOR he was a priest, and for coming over to this country to minister the sacraments to God’s children, and to reduce the seduced that were gone astray, from their errors to the right paths of salvation. And then comforting himself with these words of St. Peter (i Pet. iv.): Let none of you suffer a murderer^ oP^as a thief, or as a coveter of others' things; but if as a Christian, let him not he ashamed, but let him glorify God in this name, he was interrupted by Richardson, the minister, saying he misapplied the place of scripture, being to suffer for treason in the highest degree. To whom the martyr mildly replied. You mistake, sir, I was condemned only for being a priest; and it is apparent by the public proffers which have been made me, if I would condescend to take the new oath, that I am not guilty of treason in the highest degree. Then he went forward, desiring the people to bear him witness that he died as a priest for the Catholic cause; and begging that if any Catholics were present, they would say a Paternoster with him privately, if publicly they durst not, for fear of discovering themselves.

‘ The Paternoster and Ave Maria being ended, and the minister asking, whether he would say a Pater with him, he smiling, answered. You shall first yield to say one with me. When the unskilful executioner went to put the halter about his neck, he seemed to receive it very patiently, as the yoke of his Master, saying, he freely forgave his executioner and all others that were accessory to his death; but Robert Rennet by name, meaning the Bishop, whose finger being deepest in his blood, yet he said he wished him a higher place in heaven than himself. He desired also of God that he might be the last that should be forced to die in England for defence of the Catholic faith; and that his blood might serve, by the grace and merits of Christ, to blot and wipe out of memory whatever stain or blemish was come to his country in this cause, by the loose and scandalous lives of any that went in the name of Catholic priests.

‘ Then he betook himself to his private prayers till the executioner came to turn the ladder, at which time he said aloud five or six times. In manus tuas Domine commendo spiritum meum, — Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit. And lastly, Domine accipe spiritum meum, — Lord receive my spirit. He hung very long, and in extraordinary pain, by reason that the knot, through the unskilfulness of the hangman, came to be directly under his chin, serving only to pain and not to despatch him. Insomuch that when the people were persuaded that he was thoroughly dead, he put up his hand to the halter, as if he had either meant to show how his case stood, or else to ease himself; but bethinking himself better, and perhaps a

305 u

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6io scruple coming into his head to concur to hasten his own death, he had scarce touched the halter, but that he presently pulled away his hand. And within the space of a Paternoster after, he lifted up his hand again to make the sign of the cross, which made all the standers-by much amazed; and some of the vulgar, desirous to rid him of his pain, lifted him upwards by the legs twice or thrice, letting him fall again with a swag. Then after a little rest, when they thought him quite dead, he was cut down; but when he was brought to the block to be quartered, before the bloody butcher could pull off his doublet, he revived and began to breathe, which the multitude perceiving began to murmur, which made the Under-Sheriff cry out to the executioner to hasten; but before they had stripped him naked he was come to a very perfect breathing. It was long after they had opened him before they could find his heart, which, notwithstanding, panted in their hands when it was pulled out. As soon as the head was cut off, one of the Sheriff’s men lifted it up on the point of a halbert, expecting the applause of the people, who made no sign that the fact was pleasing to them. Nay, they that were present were struck at the sight, and said. This pries fs behaviour and death would give great confirmation to all the Papists of Herefordshire; which saying fell out to be true, for it ministered to them great courage and comfort.’ So far my old manuscript.

Here is added in another hand, ‘ He used to travel much a-foot, and living commonly amongst the poorer sort, both endured much, and did exceeding great good, converting very many. He was a very zealous reformer of evil manners, and sought this by all means whatsoever in all. One noble saying I heard reported of him was, that a notable person coming unto him in his sickness, and he lying on his bed with his shackles on his legs, shaking them he said to him, That the high priest of the old law had little bells about the rim of his vestment; and I stirring my legs say, Audi Domine; hcec sunt tintinabula mea^ — Hear, O Lord; these are my little bells; signifying belike that these were as acceptable to God as that sound of the little bells.’

Mr. Cadwallador suffered at Leominster^ or Lemster, in Hereford-shire^ August 27, anno 1610, cetatis suce forty-three.

i6io]

GEORGE NAPPIER, Priest *

George NAPPIER was bom in Oxford, and there performed his grammar studies. From thence he passed over to Doway, or Rhemes, and became a student in the English College. Whilst he was here, among many other rare examples of virtue which he gave, his charity for his neighbours was particularly taken notice of; when in the time of a plague, two.of his fellow students being seized with the infection, he voluntarily took upon him to attend them and to take care of them, not without evident danger of his own life; for he was also himself quickly seized by the contagion. But that sickness was n,ot unto death, for all three, by the mercy of God, soon after recovered. Having finished his studies, and received his orders in 1596, he resided for some time at Antwerp, and from thence in 1603, being the first year of King James the First, he passed over into England. Dr. Worthington in his Catalogue gives this short account of his conduct during the seven years of his mission in England, that he was remarkably laborious in gaining souls to God; Strenuam navavit lucrandis animahus operam, p. 51. In the year 1610, he fell into the hands of the persecutors. The particulars of his seizure, and of what passed from that time till his death, are here abridged from a manuscript penned by a Catholic gentleman who was a fellow-prisoner with him in Oxford gaol.

A true Relation of the Martyrdom of Mr. George Nappier, &c., in a Letter to a Clergyman.

My Rev. Friend, — According to your request, I have here set down all the particulars that befell Mr. Nappier, from the time of his apprehension until his exit out of this world.

And first, I have heard him say, that he had made it his prayer to God, that if, by the disposition of His Divine Providence, he should fall into the enemies’ hands, he might not he taken in his friend^ s house, because of the penalty of the laws against harbourers of priests — and it seems that God was pleased to hear his prayer. For being seen by a young fellow to go into a Catholic woman’s²

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6io house on the i8th of July^ towards evening, the knave ran in great haste to the vicar’s house, to give notice, and concert measures with him for seizing the priest.

The informer met with a cold reception at the first, the parson’s daughter flatly refusing to tell whether her father was at home; and the mother being no less reserved, and unwilling to let the man come under her roof. Some few days before, it seems, a quarrel had happened between this blade and the parson; so that his furious knocking at the door, and calling for the vicar in haste, with such disorder in his looks and speech, joined to the fright that both mother and daughter were in, from a dream of the latter the night before, that her father was murdered y affected the good women in such manner, that they held fast the door and refused him entrance. The fellow perceived the mistake, and bid them be easy, for that he came upon another sort of an errand, to do a piece of good service to the Church, and assist the vicar in seizing a Popish priest, just gone into one of his parishioners’ houses. Upon this they began to listen to the man, and the parson was called down; who commended the young man’s zeal, but was of opinion that nothing was to be done that night, but that they would take care to have him secured early in the morning; and accordingly a constable was engaged to be ready for that purpose.

Mr. Nappier having assisted the family, and performed his devotions very early, according to the custom of those times, took his leave, and was making the best of his way on foot (his usual way of travelling) through the enclosures, supposing all quiet at that early hour, when to his great surprise two or three sturdy young fellows came up hastily towards him and bade him stand. You must go hack with us, says one. You are a priest, says another; wedl have you before a Justice. The good man made no words on’t, but went quietly with them.

And first they charged the constable with him, and bade him carry him before Sir Francis Evers. When he came, the Justice ordered the constable to search him. It must be here observed that Mr. Nappier had hi?, pyx with him, and in it two consecrated Hosts; and as he owned to me several times, when he heard Sir Francis give the constable orders to search, he was under the greatest concern for fear lest the Blessed Sacrament should fall into their hands and be exposed to some profane or sacrilegious treatment. And he farther assured me, not without tears in his eyes, that, whereas the search was most strict, even so far that his shoes were pulled off in the presence of the Justice that nothing might escape them; and i6io]

whereas also, in searching of his pockets, the constable, to his feeling, had his hands many times both upon the pyx and upon a small reliquary; yet neither of them were discovered, to the great surprise and no less joy of the good man — a passage he never spoke of during his confinement without blessing and praising the Divine goodness for this merciful, may I not venture to term it with him, even miraculous preservation; for after all their labour they only found his breviary, his holy oils, a needle-case, thread and thimble. Sir Francis said he was but a poor priest, and I verily believe, says he, no great statesman; and bade the constable take him into his custody, and look well to him. The constable replied, he should take a special care of his not making his escape, and would therefore set him in the stocks till his worship should otherwise dispose of him. But Sir Francis forbade him, and ordered the constable to let him have a bed, and what else he called for; and Sir Francis used him very kindly at his own house, as did my lady. ‘ She provided me a mess of good broth,’ said Mr. Nappier ‘ for my supper; and in the morning, when I was again brought before Sir Francis, in order to receive my Mittimus, my lady provided for me a mess of milk, with cinnamon and sugar for my breakfast, and that being the 20th of July, they carried me to Oxford gaol.’

The prisoner was brought to the bar the next assizes, which happened soon after his commitment, and was tried before Mr. Justice Crook, upon an indictment of high treason, for taking priestly orders by authority derived from Rome, and remaining in England contrary to the laws.

The Judge asked him whether he was a priest. The prisoner answered, if he was such, the law did not compel him to discover himself; But if, my Lord, says he, you have witnesses to prove me a priest, let them be called. Once more the Judge said to him. Will you deny that you are a priest } Mr. Nappier replied. If any man will prove me in orders, let the Court produce him; and then, my Lord, I shall submit to the penalty of the law. The Judge then directed his discourse to the jury in these or the like words. — Gentle-men, you hear the prisoner will not deny himself to be a priest; and therefore you may certainly believe that he is a priest. For my part, if he will but here say that he is no priest, I will believe him But, indeed, these instruments of his priestly functions (the oil boxes) do plainly show him to be in orders; and therefore you have evidence sufficient that he is guilty of the indictment. Upon which the prisoner was brought in guilty by the jury.

His relations made great interest to obtain a reprieve for him, and

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6io his execution was respited till the month of November; and, probably speaking, had not some back-friends, more especially the Vice-Chancellor of Oxford^ and some others interposed, his reprieve might have been continued from time to time, and he either transported or permitted to languish away his life in durance, as many others had done before him. But two faults he was guilty of; which, according to the divinity of these men, were crimes unpardonable. There was a poor wretch tried at the same assizes for felony, and found guilty, whose name was Falkner, Some few days before his execution, he was reconciled by Mr. Nappier, and had all the helps that a dying man could expect, as far as circumstances of time and place would allow. In short, at the gallows the matter was discovered, the poor man declared himself a Catholic, abjured the errors of his former religion, as well as begged pardon of God and of all the world for the sins of his past life, and with great appearances of repentance and a devout behaviour, submitted himself to the executioner.

The people stormed; the ministers threw all the blame upon the condemned priest, made a heavy rout, called for justice, and went straight away to Abingdon^ to make complaint to the judges. The High Sheriff and the Vice-Chancellor were ordered to examine into the fact, and lay before their lordships a true account of the whole proceeding, with the names of the persons concerned in the perversion of this poor fellow. Mr. Happier was sent for to Christ Church, and strictly examined by the Vice-Chancellor and the High Sheriff about the whole affair. To these he gave this fair account: that he had no discourse nor acquaintance with Falkner till they had both received sentence of death; and he was removed from his former chamber to the condemned hole, where he found the said Falkner,

‘ Here he applied to me,’ said Mr. Happier, ‘ for my advice and instruction how to make a happy end and save his soul. I was glad of the opportunity, encouraged him in his good resolutions, and on my part endeavoured by all proper means to improve these pious motions of the Holy Spirit, in order to bring him to a true repentance and confession of his sins.’ In a word, Mr. Happier told him without more ado, that he was the person whom God was pleased to make use of for reconciling the poor wretch to Him and His Church, and that as he was the only person concerned, he desired that no other might be questioned or troubled about it.

The High Sheriff and Vice-Chancellor gave him to understand that they were to lay this whole matter before the judges, who were highly displeased with what they had already heard; and that as i6io]

soon as they had received this farther confirmation by his owning the fact before them, they persuaded themselves that it would put a stop to the reprieve and hasten his execution. ‘ Their will be done,’ says Mr. Nappier; ‘ I did nothing but what I thought a strict duty; and so far I am from repining any ways at what is done, that if you please, Mr. Vice-Chancellor, with my hearty commendations to my good lord judges, you may assure them that if they will come back to Oxford, and give me the same opportunity, Fll do as much for their lordships:^

The Vice-Chancellor asked him, whether he would take the oath of allegiance. He told him with all his heart, as far as it related to the obedience due to princes in temporals only, and would acknowledge upon oath, if he pleased, that King James was his liege sovereign, and that he was vested with as much authority over all his subjects. Catholics as well as Protestants, as any of his predecessors whatsoever. They insisted upon his taking the oath of allegiance as set forth in the Act of Parliament, and upon this condition they promised him his life should be saved. But this he refused. Then they persuaded him to peruse Mr. BlackwelVs treatise of the lawfulness of this oath; and the Vice-Chancellor called for the book. Mr. Nappier took it, and gave it a reading; but some few days after sent back the book, and told Mr. Vice-Chancellor that he still continued in his former resolution, the oath of allegiance as it stood worded, he would not take.

It was soon after noised about that Mr. Nappier was to be executed in a few days. However, nothing was done till the return of the judges from their circuits. Then, indeed. Judge Crook, as the report then went, managed matters in such sort with the Council, that a warrant was sent to the High Sheriff for the execution of the prisoner. But here, by the unwearied endeavours of his relations, his Majesty was again petitioned, and another short reprieve was obtained till the 9th of November, upon condition that in the interim he should confer with the Vice-Chancellor and other learned divines. The Vice-Chancellor happening to be at London during most of the time, Dr. Hammond and the pro-proctor had instructions to discourse with Mr. Nappier upon the subject of the oath of allegiance. See. And it is said of him that these conferences were managed with so much calmness, humility, and candour on the part of the prisoner, that these gentlemen were not a little moved with his meek and modest behaviour, and made their report in such favourable terms as plainly shewed their great unwillingness to have him suffer.

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6io

Some few days before the expiration of the reprieve, the Vice-Chancellor returning, sent again to have the prisoner brought before him, and interrogated him upon the old chapter, IVas he yet disposed to take the oath of allegiance? The prisoner offered him a draft of an oath of fidelity, which he was ready to take; but the Vice-Chancellor told him in plain terms that nothing would satisfy but the Parliamentary Oath. If he would take this, he would use his best endeavours to save him, and not otherwise.

On Thursday y the 8th of November, the discourse was revived that he was to die, and that the next day. The report was brought to the Catholic gentleman prisoner in the same gaol, and the good man himself was not kept in ignorance. A special friend of his (a priest) sent him word that day, that he purposed to sup with him. Mr. Nappier understood the message; and as this confirmed him in his opinion that his dissolution was at hand, so it extremely rejoiced him to have the comfort of a priest, and the benefit of the Church’s absolution to prepare him for his death. He shut himself up under a stricter confinement upon this notice, and employed the remainder of the day in devotion; but withal desired his fellow-prisoner (the writer of this relation) to order a breast of mutton for supper, and to invite two poor Catholics to sup with him, which was done accordingly.

Thus far we have only abridged the account given by this Catholic gentleman. What follows is set down in his own words, copied from the original.

‘ Little did he eat at supper, only a piece of pigeon-pie, and after a few stewed prunes, which one of his sisters had brought him; and very merry he was that evening. And being at supper, I said unto him, Mr. Nappier, if it be God’s holy will that you should suffer, I do wish, with all my heart, that it might be to-morrow, it being Friday, and said, that our Saviour did eat the Paschal Lamb with His disciples on Thursday at night, and suffered the Friday following, and therefore I wish, if you must die, it might be to-morrow. He answered me very sweetly, saying. Welcome by God^s grace; and I pray God I may be constant; praying us all to pray for him. And thus much I must let you understand, that every time that he heard news that he should suffer, he would give to some poor body that was Catholic, some of his clothes, and I would say unto him, Methinks you might make reservation of them again, if you should not die; he would say unto me. Oh no, for I have more upon my back than I brought into the world, and if I live I will put myself to God's Providence. And truly if he had lived, he had left himself little i6io]

more than he brought into the world, for he had given almost all away. After supper he and the other good man withdrew themselves to a secret place to confer of some special matters, and when they had made an end, they took their leave of one another, and so did all the company, and every man to his chamber.

‘ The next day being Friday, and the 9th of November, about six in the morning, the Under-Sheriff sent to the keeper’s wife, and willed her to let Mr. Nappier know that he should prepare himself to die, for that was the day, between one and two in the afternoon, that he should be executed. The poor woman took it very grievously, and fell a crying, and came to me. I, hearing her cry much, marvelled what the matter should be; and came and met her at my chamber- door, and asked what the matter was } who answered me crying. Oh, the blessed man must die this day, and I cannot find in my heart to go tell him of it. I answered her again. Welcome by God’s grace; for now I am assured it is God’s will to have it so, and therefore I will go unto him myself to let him understand the news. And so I went to his chamber, and knocking at his door, he came and opened it, and I saluted him and asked him how he did? And he answered me, saying. Well, I thank Almighty Jesus. And I asked him how he slept in the night } and he said. Very well, I thank God. Then I said unto him, that the bell had tolled, and rung out also: And he asked* me what I meant by those speeches? I said unto him again. That now he must put on his armour of proof, for he must fight that day a great battle. Pie took me in his arms and embraced me, saying. It was the best news that ever was brought unto him, and I was most heartily welcome for declaring of it unto him; saying farther, That he found himself cleansed, he hoped, from all the rust which had troubled him long before. And as I thought he rejoiced much, and asked me if he might not serve God (say Mass) that day I said, the day was far spent; but if it pleased him I would go and make all things ready; and he prayed me to do so, for he was ready. And surely methought he did celebrate that day as reverently in all his actions, and with as much sweet behaviour as ever I saw him in all my life; for 1 did take special notice of him. Pie showed no fear in any respect; and when he had made an end, and all things were laid aside, he fell to his devotions; and by the end of our service many scholars were come into the castle-yard and into the court. And after he had prayed some hours I came unto him, and asked him, if I should send for some comfortable thing for him to drink } and he answered me: No; saying. He would neither eat nor drink, hoping in his Saviour that he should have a sumptuous banquet shortly.

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And after a little stay I considered that his time drew somewhat near, I came unto him again, and put him in mind of shifting him with a fair shirt, and he said he would willingly do so. And then I made him a fire, and warmed his shirt, and coming down to put on his shirt, he made a step down amongst the poor prisoners, and did distribute some money amongst them. And coming up again, he brought a piece of silver of half a crown, and some money besides, and laid it in my chamber window; and I asked him what he would do with that piece of silver, having the picture of St. George? and he told me. That he would give it to the executioner for his pains; and the rest he would give to some poor people; and so he did. And when he had put on his clean shirt he fell to his prayers again. He had prayed but a short time when a couple of scholars, masters of arts, and I think one of them was a minister, came in; and they began to offer some speeches to him concerning the oath of allegiance. He prayed them to give him leave and to let him prepare himself, for he had not long to stay; and it stood upon him to call to mind all his reckonings, which he was to make to his Lord and Master; and therefore with most mild and sweet words he entreated them not to trouble him; and they, like honest-minded men, stayed their speeches, seeming to be sorry for him. And then the pro-proctor cometh to the castle to speak with him, and he sent the keeper to bring Mr. Nappier to him; he staying in the chamber with divers other scholars, and some others besides; and the blessed man being come unto him, he began to use some speeches to him, to persuade him to take the oath. But the good man prayed him to give him leave to spend that little time which was left him in prayer. And so kneeled down at a round table, and prayed a little. But the Under-Sheriff willed him to make him ready, for all things were almost ready for the execution. And then he rose up and went into a little chamber hard by, and put on a white waistcoat, &c., and being apparelled to the end that the law had appointed, he came again into the keeper’s chamber; and I meeting my keeper, he asked me, if I had taken my leave of him? I answered, I would willingly see him again. And he willed me to go up with him, and I should see him; and so I went with him into his chamber. And as I was coming in the blessed man was about to kneel down, and seeing me he stayed; and I pressed through the scholars and came unto him, and kneeling down he blessed me, and rising up again he embraced me and kissed me. And I heard the pro-proctor ask, who I was? and one answered him, that I was a gentleman and a prisoner for my conscience. And then the blessed man began to kneel down, and i6io]

the proctor said to him, Mr. Happier, shall I pray with you? and he answered him in these words, Oh no, good Mr. Proctor; you and I are not of one religion, and therefore may not pray together. Then the proctor asked him again, saying. Shall I pray for you 1 The blessed man said unto him, / would to God you were in a state of grace to pray for me. And then he kneeled down, and I kneeled by him, and I think he said but one Paternoster, for I could say but one; and presently the Under-Sheriff called very earnestly to come away. And so prostrating himself on the ground he kissed it, and rose up, and made the sign of the cross, and went forward to the dungeon door, where the hurdle stayed for him. And coming by the proctor, the proctor said unto him, Mr. Happier, if you will yet take the oath of allegiance, I make no doubt of your life. He spoke unto him and said. Good Mr. Proctor, do not wrong me when I am gone, for I know many speeches will go of me; and now I say again unto you, that I have prayed most heartily for the King, the prince, and all his children, as any subject he hath in the world; and will yield him as much power and authority as ever any prince had or ought to have. And then the hangm.an came unto him and asked him forgiveness, and the blessed man said and embraced him, I most lovingly forgive thee, and for a pledge I have willed one of the Sheriff's men to give thee some silver; and the hangman said. He had received it, and thanked him for it. And so he being called for again he went forward, and coming down to the stair’s foot, the door was open, and I followed him; and he seeing the hurdle, most willingly went himself and laid him down with a lively courage, having blessed himself. He had not so much as a thread to bind him, which I think never none but was bound saving himself. And then they offered to draw forward, and one of the pins of the trace broke, so they stayed till it was fastened. And the people were so unreasonable in pressing themselves to see him, that they pressed me down twice upon the hurdle. And then I called to the proctor to command them to give back; and then I took both his hands in my hands, and prayed God to comfort him, and looking upon me he prayed God to bless me; and with much ado I got from the throng of people. And more than this I cannot set down of my own knowledge. What follows is the report of Mr. Charles's own hearing at the place where he suffered his martyrdom.’

The 9th of Hovemher, being Friday, 1610, it pleased God to appoint the time in which the faith of Mr. George Happier, priest, was to be tried in the furnace. Being brought therefore out of prison, and laid on the hurdle, with hands joined and his eyes fixed

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6io towards heaven, without moving any way, he was drawn to the place of execution. Where, being taken off and set on his feet, beholding the place where he was to suffer, he signed himself with the sign of the cross; and ascending the steps of the ladder with a cheerful mind to receive his martyrdom, turning his face towards the people, having again signed himself with the sign of the cross, he began to speak as follows: Gentlemen, you must expect no great speech at my hands, for indeed I intend none; only I acknowledge myself to be a miserable and wretched sinner. And therewithal joining his hands with intention to pray, he was interrupted by a minister who called to him, saying, Nappier, Nappier, confess your treason. Wherewith bending himself, and looking down towards him, he answered him, saying. Treason, sir! I thank God, I never knew what treason meaJit! To which the minister replied. Be advised what you say; do not you remember how the judge told you it was treason to be a priest? He answered the minister again. For that I die, sir, and that judge as well as I shall appear before the just Judge of heaven, to whom I appeal, who will determine whether it be treason or no to be a priest. And withal he protested that none but Catholics can be saved. After these words he desired that he might have leave to pray, whereunto the minister replied. Pray for the King; to which he answered. So I do daily. But said the minister. Pray for the King now. With that he lifted up his hands and said, / pray God preserve His Majesty, and make him a blessed saint in heaven. Then he desired the company that he might pray for himself. The minister interrupting him the third time, said. Go to; pray, and we will pray with you. To which he answered. Sir, I will 7ione of your prayers, neither is it my desire you should pray with me, but I desire all good Catholics to join with me in prayer. So addressing himself to pray he said. In te Domine speravi. See., In Thee, O Lord, I have put my trust, let me not be confounded for ever. Then lifting up his hands and heart, he said the psalm De profundis, &c.; after that, Beati quorum remissce sunt iniquitates, &c.; lastly, the psalm Miserere. These being ended, he pulled down his nightcap over his eyes and most part of his face, and often repeating these words. In manus tuas. See., Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit, he yielded himself to one side of the ladder, having his hands still joined. So being turned off, he struck himself three times on the breast, and yielded his blessed soul into His hands that gave it. Thus beseeching God to defend you from your enemies, I most humbly desire you to remember me in your prayers. From my cell this 19th day of December, 1610.

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P.S. — His charity was great, for if any poor prisoner wanted either meat to fill him or clothes to cover him, he would rather be cold himself than they should. If any of them would pray him to give his word to the keeper for them, he would do it, if he paid it himself, as sometimes he did, and he would wait for the poorest prisoner in the castle. There was one wretch went away with twenty shillings and nine pence of his, promising him he would send it him honestly, but he never heard of him. One other he lent his cloak to wear a few days, to keep him warm; and hath willed that as long as he stays in the gaol he must wear it, which, I fear, will be so long that he will wear that out, and such another. And thus beseeching you once more of your prayers, I in all duty commend me.

Mr. Nappier suffered at Oxford, November 9, 1610. His head was set up on Christ Church steeple, and his quarters upon the four gates of the city.

JOHN ROBERTS, Priest, O.S.B.^

JOHN ROBERTS was born in Merionethshire of Wales, from whence he was called in religion. Father John de Mervinia. In what school ’ or college he had his first education I have not found; though I find one of that name in the Doway Diary, sent from Rhemes to Rome in 1 583. If this be the gentleman we are treating of, he must afterwards have gone from Rome to Spain; for certain it is, that this Mr. Roberts was sometime an alumnus of the English Seminary of Valladolid, and from thence betook himself to the Spanish congregation of Valladolid of the Venerable Order of St. Rennet, amongst whom he entered in the year 1595. He was professed in the abbey of St. Martin of Compostella, and having not long after received the holy order of priesthood in 1600, he was that same year sent upon the English mission; being the first, says Father B. W[eldon], who out of a monastery (since the suppression of monasteries in England) came to attack the gates of hell and encounter the prince of darkness in his usurped kingdom, whom he overcame like his Master, the great Pattern of Martyrs, by losing his life in the conflict.³

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6io

He was, says my author, a man of admirable zealy couragey and constancy. Who, during his ten years’ labours in the mission, was four times apprehended and committed to prison, and as often sent into banishment, but still returned again to the work of his Master upon the first favourable opportunity. His extraordinary charity evidently shewed itself during the time of a great plague in London y where he assisted great numbers of the infected, and was instrumental in the conversion of many souls from their former errors and vices. He was apprehended for the fifth time, at Mass, on the first Sunday of Advent y i6io, and hurried away in his vestments, and thrust into a dark dungeon, from whence he was quickly after brought out to his trial, and condemned to die barely for his priestly character. His life, however, was offered him, if he would have taken the new oath, which he constantly refused.

My manuscript from St. Omers gives the following account of the execution of Mr. RohertSy and of Mr. Thomas SomerSy alias Wilson y a secular priest of Doway College y who suffered at the same time and place.

‘ These two blessed men being drawn within sixteen or eighteen yards of the place of execution (Tyburn) y the multitude of the gentry and of the common people was such and so great, that they could not draw them to their intended place, but were forced to take them from the hurdle and to send them to the carts, in which stood sixteen condemned persons with their ropes about their necks, and tied to the gallows. Father Roberts was the first taken from the hurdle, who with a cheerful and smiling countenance walked in his gown to the cart, into which he offered to leap but could not, being very weak, in regard of his sickness, until by the serjeants and other officers he was assisted. He took notice upon this occasion that he was to be hanged amongst thieves, upon which one of the officers put him in mind that his Master was so ser^ed. As soon as his feet were seated in the cart, he turned himself towards the poor condemned prisoners, and displaying his hands, and blessing them, he said. We are all come hither to die, from which there is no hope of escape, and if you die in the religion now professed in Englandy you shall undoubtedly perish everlastingly. Let me, therefore, for the love of our blessed Saviour, entreat you that we may all die in one faith, in testimony whereof let me beseech you to pronounce with me those words, I believe the holy Catholic Church; protesting your desires to die members of the same, as also your sorrowfulness for having led so naughty and wicked lives, whereby you have offended our sweet and merciful Saviour; which if you will truly i6io]

and constantly profess, I will pronounce absolution, and then my soul for yours. And being purposed to have given them farther ghostly counsel, he was interrupted by a churlish officer, who would no longer permit him to speak to those poor people. Whereupon, falling down upon his knees, he privately poured forth some few prayers, which having finished, he suddenly rising up from his knees, with a smiling and most cheerful countenance, turned himself to the people and blessed them all.

‘ The executioner being very busy in pulling off his gown, he said, Mr. Sheriff, shall I not speak? To which the Sheriff, being a man of much humanity, replied. Yes, Mr. Roberts, you shall speak; and withal delivered to one of the officers a little glass of aqua vitce to keep him from fainting in regard of his great weakness, whereof he drank a little quantity. During which time Mr. Somers, his associate, was likewise brought to the cart, to whom Mr. Roberts gave his hand to help him up, saying. Welcome, good brother; and then having embraced and blessed each other, Mr. Roberts turned himself to the people, blessing them with a cheerful countenance, and with an audible voice, said, Audite coeliquce loquor, audiat terra verba oris mei. Which having Englished, saying. Honourable, worshipful, and my well beloved friends, and beginning to proceed, he was again interrupted by the said churlish officer; whose insolence was such that he was publicly taunted and rebuked by many gentlemen of great condition, they all protesting against his barbarous churlishness.

‘ Being thus hindered from dilating upon that scripture text formerly uttered; having again blessed the people, he said, I am condemned to die for that being a priest I came into England contrary to a statute made in the 27th year of the late Queen’s reign. Other matter was not objected against me at my arraignment. And to the objection that he came into England without due authority he replied, that he was sent into England by the same authority by which St. Augustin the apostle of England was sent, whose disciple he was; being of the same order, and living under the same rule in which he lived; and that for the profession and teaching of that religion, which St. Augustin planted in England, he was now condemned to die.

‘ The executioners being as busy in making Mr. Wilson ready, as they had Mr. Roberts, he in this interim again surveying the people, and blessing them, to many of his acquaintance, and to every one that saluted him with hat or otherwise, he returned a resalutatino with benedictions; and then pronounced those words, Memorare

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6io novissima tua, Let every man remember his end; he farther added, Omnes nos manifestari oportet ante tribunal Christi: We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, there to give account of our faith and works. They that have done well shall go to everlasting life; and they that have done evil into everlasting torments. Then blessing the people again, he prayed them to pardon him for not using more words, protesting inability of speech in regard of weakness. But for his last farewell he entreated them to return to the unity of the Catholic Church; praying them to take certain notice that extra ecclesiam non est salus^ the English whereof he inforced himself to deliver with a most strong voice; saying. Unto this end I will not cease to pray for you all during my life, and after my death I shall have greater ability to perform the same. And then he was again interrupted by that same rude officer, who so often before had interrupted him, saying. That it was not fit he should so persuade the people; to whom the principal officer replied. He speaks nothing against the King or State, and therefore I see no reason but that he may speak. To which the other replied. It must not be; he must not be suffered to allure the King’s people in this sort. To which Mr. Roberts answered, I say nothing against the King, he is a good king; I beseech God to bless him, his grave senate the Council, the honourable bench by whom I was condemned, together with all those that have been instruments of my death. Neither is it the King that causes us to die, he is a clement king; it is heresy, it is heresy that does this.

‘ Being advised to put on his nightcap, he answered. Do you think I fear the headache? And seeing the fire prepared to burn his bowels, he said, I perceive you prepare a hot breakfast for us. Then, having given his last benediction, as well to the whole multitude, as to those that knew or did salute him; putting his hands close to his eyes he prayed secretly until Mr. Wilson was full ready. Whose hands being fast tied, with a cheerful and pleasant countenance he (Mr. Wilson) blessed all the people with these words: Benedicat VOS omnipotens et misericors Dominus, Pater et Filius et Spiritus Sanctus. And farther said that he was condemned to die for being a priest, as also for refusing an oath now tendered as an oath of allegiance; protesting himself ever to have been a true, loyal, and faithful subject; and that he refused not the oath, in respect of that allegiance which the prince may challenge of his subjects, but in regard that it is so mixt with matters of religion, that it is expressly forbidden by the Pope’s holiness, whom we are all bound to obey in matters of religion; and therefore he persuaded them all to obey this same i6io]

supreme pastor of God’s Church, affirming, as his blessed associate had done before, that out of the same Church there is no salvation.

‘ And now they were informed by an officer that they must instantly die. Embracing therefore and blessing each other, and giving their last benedictions with manacled hands, Mr. Roberts, plucking his handkerchief over his eyes said, Omnes sancti, et sanctce Dei inter cedite pro me; and Mr. Wilson, In manus tuas Domine commendo spiritum meum. They were suffered to hang till they were thoroughly dead; then being cut down, they were bowelled, beheaded, and quartered. Their entrails being burnt, their quarters were buried in the same pit which was prepared for those poor wretches that then died, all which sixteen bodies were cast upon them.’ So far the manuscript.

B. W. adds that two nights after, one of Mr. Roberts's brethren, with some other Catholics, dug out at midnight the quarters both of Mr. Roberts and Mr. Wilson from the pit into which they had been cast, and carried them off; but that as they were coming into the town, at break of day, meeting with the watch, one of these pious thieves, that he might more certainly escape, let drop a leg and thigh of Father Roberts, which was taken up and carried to George Abbot, then Bishop of London, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, who was the man that had been Father Roberts his chief adversary, and had stood with greatest vehemency against him at his trial, animating the Judge against him; and that he ordered them to be buried in the Church of St. Saviour, to hinder the Catholics from recovering them. The rest were carried to Doway, to the monastery of the English Benedictines there, but one of Father Roberts's arms was sent into Spain to the abbey of St. Martin's at Compostella.

Mr. Roberts suffered at Tyburn, December lo, i6io.

THOMAS SOMERS, alias WILSON, Priest *

Mr. SOMERS, who was known upon the mission by the name of Wilson, was born in Westmoreland; where for some years he taught a grammar school to the great benefit of many, as well of his scholars as of his other neighbours, whom he instructed in the Christian Catholic religion; and some also of the⁴

X

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i6io more advanced he persuaded to go over to Doway to the English College or Seminary there, in order to qualify themselves by learning and piety for holy orders, that so they might one day return again to their own country to assist the souls of their neighbours in those evil days. The counsel which he gave to others, he not long after followed himself; and repairing to the aforesaid college, he passed through his divinity studies, was made priest, and sent upon the English mission in 1606. His residence was in London, and his labours were chiefly dedicated to the poorer sort of Catholics there, whom he served with such extraordinary diligence and zeal, as to be commonly known by the name of the pastor or parish priest of London, Parochus Londiniensis,

After some time he fell into the hands of the priest-catchers, and was committed to prison, and from prison was, with twenty others of the same character, by virtue of an order from the Council, shipped off, and sent into banishment. He landed at Boulogne, and from thence went and paid a visit to his old mother college, where he met with a kind welcome, and was invited to take up his habitation there, the office of Procurator of the House being oflPered him by Dr. Worthington, then president. But his heart was with his flock, from which he had been violently separated; and no apprehension of dangers to which his return must needs expose him, being so well known as he was, could make any impression on a soul that was all on fire with heavenly charity, and which looked upon death in such a cause as the greatest of all happinesses.

To England therefore he returned, and there reassumed his accustomed labours in the same field as formerly, but was not long after again apprehended and quickly brought to his trial, where he was convicted of having received holy orders in the Church of Rome, and having exercised his priestly functions in England; and for this supposed treason — no other being so much as objected to him — he was condemned to die the death of traitors. When the bloody sentence was pronounced against him, it drew tears from the eyes of many, and caused pity and compassion in most of the standers-by; but as for his own part, he heard it with such a remarkable calmness and composedness in his looks, as affected the whole court with wonder and astonishment.

A few days after he was drawn to Tyburn in the company of Mr. Roberts, where, as we have seen already, they both made a glorious confession of their faith in the sight of an infinite number of people, and poured forth their blood in defence of it, December 10, 1610.

Molanus in his Appendix to his Idea togatce Constantice, published

THOMAS SOMERS in 1629, down Mr. Somerses banishment in 1610, and gives him for companions Messieurs Richard Newport^ Philip Woodward^ Thomas Leaky Cuthbert Johnson y Oswald Needham y N. Greeny John Praty John Lockwood y John Ainsworth y Robert Chamberlaney Edward Millingtony Gilbert Hunty N. Sadler y and N. Muttony O.S.B., Thomas Priesty and Mich, WalpolCy S.J., &c. He adds that Oswald Needham was afterwards crowned with martyrdom (but this particular is not confirmed by any other writer); and that John Lockwood and Gilbert Hunt were also afterwards condemned to die.

This year, 1610, Mr. Lewis BarloWy the first missioner from the Seminaries, departed this life in a good old age. He came to Doway in 1570, was made priest and sent upon the mission in 1574, was divers times apprehended and imprisoned and was sent into banishment in 1603, but returned again to his labours, and died this year in England. — Doway Diary.

The year 1611 passed without the shedding of any Catholic blood on religious accounts; not so the following year, in which I find three priests and one layman put to death upon the penal statutes.

Footnotes

1. Ven. Roger Cadwallador. — From two Manuscript relations sent me from Douay, gathered partly out of his own letters, partly from the testimony of the Rev. Mr. John Stevens, a neighbouring Missioner, and other unexceptionable witnesses. Item, from the Douay Diary; and from Dr. Pits, De Scriptoribus Britannice; see also Gillow; D.N.B. ↩

2. Ven. George Nappier, Napper, or Napier. — From Dr. Worthington and Raissius in their printed Catalogues; but chiefly from a Manuscript relation by a fellow-prisoner, which I have met with in Mr. Knaresborough’s Collections; see also Gillow; Stapleton, Oxfordshire Missions: Catholic Encyclopcedia. ↩

3. Ven. John Roberts. — From Weldon’s Manuscript concerning the English Benedictine Congregation, extracted from the archives of their monasteries; from Raissius’s Catalogue of the Douay Martyrs; and from a Manuscript sent me from the English College of St. Omers; see also Camm, Life of John Roberts; Acts of E. M. ↩

4. Ven. Thomas Somers, alias Wilson. — From Dr. Worthington and Raissius in their printed Catalogues; see also C.R.S., x., xi. ↩