Skip to the text

The Year 1646

PHILIP POWEL, alias MORGAN, Priest, O.S.B *

Philip POWEL, com.monly known upon the mission by the name of Morgan ^ was the son of Roger Powel and Catherine Morgan, both of very ancient families, and virtuous, though not rich. He was born in the parish of Tralon, in Brecknockshire, on Candlemas-day, 1594, and brought up in grammar learning in the common school of Abergavenny, where he was noted for being always very towardly, though amongst many rude companions. At the age of sixteen he was sent to London to study the law under Father Augustin Baker, ‘ who, before he was a monk, was a famous lawyer in the Temple, with whom he continued till he was near twenty years old; at which time, being sent by him on some temporal affairs into Flanders, coming to Doway,h.Q was inflamed with a great desire of being a monk amongst the English Benedictines of St. Gregory in that town. His spirit being tried, he was admitted to the habit in 1614; and after having made a good progress in virtue and learning (having for master that learned divine Father Leander of St. Martin), at the age of twenty-four he was made priest [in 1618]; and in 1622, on the 7th of March, was sent on the mission.

‘ At his first entrance into England, he repaired to his former master, Father Baker, with whom he lived sixteen months and who was delighted at the exchange the young man had made, and was much more ready now to teach him in the divine law, than ever he had been formerly to instruct him in the civil. After his trial, find-1 ing him every way qualified, he sent him to a good family (Mr. RisderCs in Devonshire)^ where in a short time he gained the affection of all, insomuch that when Mr. Risden's daughter was married to Mr. P[oyntz] of L[eighland], in Somersetshire^ there was a pious strife between the father and the daughter who should have Mr. Rowel; but the daughter prevailed, and with this couple he had a constant residence at L[eighland] for twenty-one or twenty-two years, behaving to the great edification of all, till the late wars forced that family from home, and obliged them to disperse themselves in different places. Whereupon Mr. Rowel repaired to his old friend, John Tre\velyan, in the parish of [ Yarnscombe^ in the county of Devon ^ and to John Coff[in], in the parish of Rarkham. Here he had not been above three or four months before these parts were overrun with Parliament soldiers; so that no Catholic could find any place of safety but in Goring' s army, whither our pastor followed his flock, and there took exceeding great pains in his functions for the space of six months, till that army being dissolved, he took ship in a small vessel that was bound from Cornwall to Wales. And as he was sailing, on the Feast of St. Reter's Chair {February 22), his vessel was boarded by Captain Crowder^ vice-admiral of those seas, where two of the admiral’s men knew him, and accused him of being a priest, saying, that they had lately been acquainted with him in the parishes of Y arnscombe and Rarkham, where, said they, he seduced the greater part of the parishioners from their churches.’

Upon this the admiral told him he certainly was a priest, which at first he would neither confess nor deny; but afterwards recommending the matter to God, and to the prayers of the Blessed Virgin, his angel guardian, and St. Benedict, begging to be inspired how to behave, and what answer to give on this occasion, he found himself suddenly determined to acknowledge his priestly character. So that being asked again that same morning by Captain Crowder if he were not a priest, he cheerfully owned himself to be one; all which particulars he told a Benedictine monk who was his confessarius whilst he was prisoner in the King’s Bench.

‘ He was therefore committed prisoner under deck, where the soldiers barbarously stripped him of all his clothes to his very shirt, and clothed him with most beggarly rags; and in this condition he was detained prisoner from the 22d of February to the nth of May following, being Monday, when by orders of the Earl of Warwick, admiral for the Parliament, he was sent up to London, and delivered to the custody of St. Catharine's gaol in Southwark. Upon the Wednesday following he was examined by Judge Roules if he were a priest. He acknowledged he was, and by him he was commanded to the King's Bench with recommendation to be civilly used, as indeed he was at his first entrance; so he ingratiated himself much with divers gentlemen who were there prisoners for debt. On the Saturday following he was called before the two Judges Bacon and Roules, by whom he was examined of all his whole life; of which he gave them account as follows, to my best remembrance, for I heard it thrice read at the King's Bench bar.

‘ I was born in Brecknockshire^ was educated at the school of Abergavenny^ and at sixteen years of age was sent by my parents to London to apply myself to the law, where I remained betwixt three and four years; then I went to Doway to the monastery of St. Gregory^ of the Order of St. Benedict^ and amongst them I received the habit of St. Benedict when I was about twenty years of age. There I studied, and when I was at the age of twenty-four I took holy orders, and was made a Roman Catholic priest; and at the age of twenty-eight I was sent into my country by my superiors to convert and assist poor erring souls; where I have remained about twenty years in Cornwall^ Devon^ and Somersetshire Mass, hearing confessions, administering the sacraments, and using all sort of functions of a priest.

‘ To this confession he set his hand, and so was returned back to his lodging in the King's Bench ^ where his best accommodation was upon mats without bed, bolster, or sheets, and in a chamber with five more, a Catholic his bedfellow, and some of the rest being sick persons. Here some few friends now came to visit him; and two amongst others, who often importuned him to recall his former confession, and to pretend he was distracted when he wrote it through the hard usage he had met with at sea. But the holy man would not hear of any such advice.

‘ On Friday the 29th of May, he was cast into the common gaol, being the next day to be judged upon his confession. Here the miseries of his lodging far exceeded the former, insomuch that it cast him into a most dangerous pleurisy. As soon as he began to get a little strength, he was carried to the King's Bench bar in Westminster Hall, on Tuesday the 9th oijune; and his indictment drawn up from his own confession being read, the clerk demanded of him. Art thou guilty or not guilty? The holy man answered with a great deal of meekness and courage. That I am a priest, I freely did confess, and now acknowledge again; but guilty of any treason or crime against the State I am not. The judge then said, Mr. Morgan, you are to answer directly to the demand. Are you guilty or not guilty? He replied, I have acknowledged myself a priest and a monk, but I am Not guilty. The judge demanded by whom he would be tried? By God and by his country? He answered. If I must needs be tried, I will permit myself to be tried by the country. So he was conducted back to prison.

‘ On Friday the 12th of June, he was again carried to the King^s Bench bar. His indictment being again read, and the jury present, the judge asked him, Mr. Morgan, what can you say for yourself? He modestly replied that the proceeding against him ought to be deferred. For first, said he, I doubt whether you, my Lords, have any just power derived from His Majesty to try me or no. Secondly, His Majesty’s flag flying in a civil war, all trials of life and death cease. He was permitted to say no more, but conveyed by two tipstaffs to a bye seat, whilst the jury sat upon him, and then was called again to the bar to hear their verdict, who brought him \n guilty; so he was sent back to the King's Bench prison.

‘ Tuesday, the i6th oijune, he was called again to the bar. He desired the favour to speak, which being granted, he pleaded that Henry VHI. made a statute of qualification of all statutes; and that the reason of Queen Elizabeth's statute against priests was her fears and jealousies of the Queen of Scots, and the Spaniard; and that it was conceived at that time that all the priests in England had a relation to them both; but that now the case was altered; that the King’s person was absent, and no plot could be executed by him upon it; so that both the person and the cause being taken away, this latter statute might receive the benefit of mitigation, which point was long argued by him and the judge in presence of many lawyers, for it was term-time. He added that according to the letter of Queen Elizabeth's statute he was not guilty, not being taken in England, but on the sea. But all would not do. So judgment was pronounced by Judge Bacon; upon which the holy man, with a cheerful countenance and pleasant voice, lifting up his hands and eyes towards heaven, said, Deo Gratias, Thanks be to God, adding, I have not here room by reason of the throng to give God thanks on my knees; but I most humbly thank him on the knee of my heart. Then he made an offering of himself in a loud voice to his Saviour Jesus Christ, praying that the shedding of his innocent blood might not increase God’s wrath upon this kingdom, but rather be a means to appease it. Then he prayed for the King, Queen, and their posterity; for the judge, jury, and all who were any way guilty of his death. The judge said. You do us wrong; you have received judgment, and cannot plead your innocent blood. The blessed man replied, My Lord, I have said; I will not offend. The judge bid him make choice of what day he would die. He answered with a pleasant and modest aspect, as always. My Lord, consider, it is not an easy matter, or a thing soon compassed, to be provided to die well. We have all of us much to answer for, and myself have not the least share; therefore, my Lord, consider what time your lordship would allot to yourself, and appoint that to me. Yet the judge made him the same proffer a second and a third time; to which he lastly replied, he would by no means be an allotter of his own death, or be any way guilty of it; but would leave it to his lordship’s discretion. So being promised he should have a competent notice, he was sent back to his lodgings in the prison.

‘ It was admirable to see how pleasant, how affable, and liberal he was towards all: in a word, his comportment was such that his fellow-prisoners of their own accord drew up a certificate of his innocent and virtuous behaviour, signed by twenty-nine gentlemen, all Protestants excepting six, whom he had reconciled in prison, {viz. Captain Bromjield, Mr. Martin, Mr. Dutton, Mr. Hierome, Mr. Richahie, &c.). This gentleman last named had a most wicked custom of swearing; the blessed man once hearing him swear, whilst he was drinking amongst his companions (after his reconciliation), goes to him, calls him out, pays his shot, and so severely reprehends him, that to this day the man was never heard to swear an oath, as his fellow-prisoners can testify.’

In the common side of the prison where he was now lodged, the holy man was placed in a little low earthen ward in which there were eleven lodgings; and bore with patience all the nastiness and miseries of the place. His office it seems was to sweep the ward, which he did with great delight. One whom he had reconciled desiring to do that office for him, he refused the courtesy, and gave God thanks that he had this opportunity of serving the poor and prisoners.

It was also very observable in this blessed man, that he ‘ daily increased in pleasantness and cheerfulness, as he grew nearer and nearer to heaven, even to his last hour, as many can witness (says my author), and myself can, being with him daily. On the 28th of June, being Sunday, near eight in the evening an officer came from the judges, to advertise him that Tuesday morning next following was appointed for his death; beginning first with an apology, how-unhappy he was to be the messenger of such sad tidings; at which the holy man imagining what it was, joyfully said. Welcome, whatever comes; God's name he praised! The manner and cordiality of his speech so daunted the officer that he could not read his charge, but the blessed man looking over his shoulder prompted him; then after giving him many thanks, called for a glass of sack and drank to him (saying, as it is in another manuscript, O/z, what am I that God thus honours me; and will have me die for His sake! which words drew tears from the eyes of a Protestant that was standing by), after which he withdrew to praise and give thanks to God. Many such like things were daily observed in his comportment.

‘ The last of June (the commemoration of the martyrdom of St. Paul) being come, our confessor having first spent the precedent night with his confessarius, except two hours in which he reposed, having finished his confession and private devotions, celebrated the divine mysteries with tears trickling down his cheeks. Then (being called for) he went with great cheerfulness to the hurdle, on which he was drawn from the common gaol of the King's Bench to Tyburn. In the way some presented him with wine, and he, taking the glass in his hand, asked leave of the Sheriff to drink to his coachman, meaning the carter that drove the horses. When he was come to the place of execution, arising from the hurdle, he knelt down upon his bare knees under the gallows, and there for some time prayed in silence; then rising, he stepped up into the cart, and making the sign of the cross upon himself, saying, with a loud voice. In nomine patris, &c., he began to speak upon the text, Spectaculum facti sumus, &c. We are made a spectacle to God, to angels, and to men. All you,’ said he, ‘ that are come to behold me, may think you are come to a sad spectacle, but to me it is not so. It is the happiest day, and greatest joy that ever befel me; so that I may say with the prophet, Hcec dies quam fecit Dominus, &c.. This is the day which God hath made; a day wherein I may truly rejoice in my soul: for I am brought hither a condemned man to execution; for no other cause or reason alleged against me, than that I am a Roman Catholic priest, and a monk of the Order of St. Bennet. And this I freely confessed myself. This confession and cause only bringeth me hither to execution. I give God thanks that He has honoured me with the dignity of a priest, and I glory that I am a monk of this holy order, which first converted this kingdom from being heathens and infidels to Christianity and the knowledge of God; St. Augustin being their leader, sent by St. Gregory the Great, Pope of Rome, with forty other monks.

‘ Here the Sheriff interrupted him and bid him tell none of his old stories and tales, and ordered the hangman to do his office, who immediately tied up the holy man to the gallows. What he spoke afterwards was to express himself how freely he forgave all who were accessory to his death, and to pray for the King, Queen,

Prince, and royal progeny, and for a happy peace for the nation and the ‘ true knowledge of God; desiring all Catholics to pray for him. Then he knelt on the side of the cart (for being tied up he could not kneel down), and made his prayer to himself, which being ended, lifting his eyes to heaven and giving the appointed sign, he received absolution ’ from one of his brethren in the crowd, probably the same from whom we have copied the greatest part of this narration.

‘ Then giving some money to the hangman, and pulling his cap down over his eyes, he waited in silent prayer for the cart being drawn away, about a quarter of an hour; for the carter, whose office it was, having a horror of concurring to the death of so holy and innocent a man, withdrew himself into the thick of the throng and would not drive the cart away; but another was found to do the job, and the man of God was suffered to hang till he expired. His dead body was cut down, bowelled, and quartered; but his head and quarters were not set up as usual on the gates and bridge, but buried in the old churchyard in Moorjields; and this by a petition of the Common Council of London to the Parliament, hoping, as it is supposed, by this means sooner to obliterate his memory and the impression wffiich his comportment had made upon the people. His clothes and shirt, dyed with his blood, were redeemed of the hangman for £/. by Father Robert And[erton', a Benedictine.

He suffered June 30, 1646, cetaiis fifty-three, religionis thirty-three, missionis twenty-six.

One of his fellow-prisoners expressed his esteem for him by the following lines: —

‘ He was of princely race, of British blood,

Nor yet the twentieth part so great as good.

Sufficient, and so qualified withal,

That he did seem to be without a gall.

Mild, patient, stout: his hand to every poor Most open, till they blush’d to ask him more.

Most temperate and constant to his Christ,’ &c.

One of the Doway manuscripts adds the following remarkable circumstance to the narration of his martyrdom, viz., that in the way whilst he was drawn from Southwark to Tyburn, it happened that a collier met them on Cornhill driving six strong horses with a load of coals, who being obliged to stop and make way for the hurdle and crowd that attended it, fumed and raged at the holy man, complaining aloud that he should be stopped in his way for that traitor as he called him. But mark what follows: the hurdle was scarce passed when one of the collier’s horses, without any previous sign of

EDWARD BAMBER hurt or illness, falls down dead in the street, and obliges his master to make a much longer stay than that which so much offended him before. The same manuscript also takes notice that the jailer was so much taken with the comportment of the man of God, that he accompanied him to the place of execution, and always spoke of him with the highest esteem.

EDWARD BAMBER, alias REDING, Priest *

Edward BAMBER, commonly known upon the mission by the name of Reding^ was son of Mr. Richard Bamher^ and born at a place called the Moor, the ancient mansion-house of the family, lying not far from Poidton in that part of Lancashire called the Fylde, Having made a good progress in his grammar studies at home, he was sent abroad into Spain to the English College at Valladolid, where he learned his philosophy and divinity and was ordained priest. ‘ But in what year this happened,’ says Mr. Knaresborough, ‘ or when he was sent upon the mission, my short memoirs do not tell us; and they leave us as much in the dark as to many other passages and particulars relating to the life and labours of this good priest, as well as to the history of his trial, of which we have a very imperfect account. But then, short as they are, they are very expressive of his zeal and indefatigable labour in gaining souls to God; his unwearied diligence in instructing the Catholics committed to his charge, disputing with Protestants, and going about to do good everywhere, in times and places of the greatest danger, with a courage and firmness of mind much spoken of and admired at that time, and mentioned by one of his contemporary labourers and fellow prisoners (in a short manuscript relation), as something that was wonderfully surprising, and, as he expresses it, above the power and strength of man.

‘ When, how, or where he was apprehended, I have not found, but only this, that he had lain three whole years a close prisoner in Lancaster Castle before he was brought to the bar. But now the judges going out on their several circuits, which for some time before they could not do by reason of the civil wars, and coming to Lin-caster, Mr. Bamber and two other priests his companions were brought upon their trial. Here, his conduct was discreet and cautious, so as2 to give the judge no unnecessary provocation, but at the same time his comportment was remarkably courageous and brave, in a degree that was astonishing to the whole court, where he stood with such an air of fortitude and resolution of suffering in defence of truth, as might not have ill become even one of the most forward and zealous confessors of the Cyprianic age. Two fallen Catholics — Malden and Osbaldeston — appeared against him as witnesses. These wretches made oath that they had seen him administer baptism and perform the ceremonies of marriage, and upon these slender proofs of his priesthood, the jury, by the judge’s direction, found him guilty of the indictment, who thereupon had sentence in the usual form, to be hanged, cut down alive, &c., as in cases of high treason. All which Mr. Bamber heard with a composed countenance, and without manifesting the least sign of trouble or concern.

‘ It was on the 7th of August when he and his two fellow priests and confessors were drawn on sledges to the place of execution, and at the same time a poor wretch, one Croft condemned for felony, was brought to die with them. Mr. Bamber applied his discourse in a most affectionate manner to this poor man; beseeching him to take compassion on his soul, and provide for its eternal welfare by true repentance of his sins and embracing the true religion; telling him for his encouragement that it was never too late to make his peace with God, Who showed mercy to the penitent thief at the hour of death. “ And He will also pardon thee,” said he, “ if, like him, thou wilt be converted to Him, and truly repent of thy sins. Take courage, my dear friend, and boldly declare thyself a Catholic, and withal confess some of thy more public sins, and be truly contrite and sorry for all: and I a priest and minister of Jesus Christ will instantly in His name and by His authority absolve thee.'' The officers of justice, and the ministers began here to storm and threaten, but Mr. Bamber stood his ground and carried his point. The prisoner fairly declaring his fixed resolution of dying in the faith and communion of the Catholic Church, and having confessed aloud some of his public and scandalous crimes, and begged pardon for them, and at the same time signifying his sincere repentance for his sins in general, Mr. Bamber^ according to promise, publicly absolved him in the sight and hearing of the crowd, and to the intolerable mortification and confusion of the Protestant ministers. But they were resolved, it seems, he should do no more mischief; and therefore bid him walk up the ladder, and prepare for death. The confessor obeyed their orders; having first taken leave of some friends, and sent a small token to some others, enjoining the mes-

EDWARD BAMBER senger to tell them from him, not to grieve at his death, For, says he, / hope to pray for them in heaven. Here mounting up some steps he halted, and taking a handful of money he threw it among the people, saying with a smiling countenance that God loved a cheerful giver. Then after some time spent in private devotions, he turned towards his fellow confessors, exhorting them to constancy and perseverance, having his eyes more particularly upon Mr. Whitaker^ who by his looks appeared not a little terrified at the approaches of death, which gave occasion to the Protestants to be very busy in tempting him with the hopes of life, if he would promise to conform to their religion. Mr. Bamber was speaking to him in the most tender and feeling manner, to be upon his guard and beware of the enemy in that critical hour, on which the welfare of his soul was to depend for an eternity; when the Sheriff called out hastily to the executioner to despatch him; and so he was that moment turned off the ladder, and permitted to hang a very short time, when the rope was cut, the confessor being yet alive. And thus was he butchered in a most cruel and savage manner, as my author, a priest and confessor, then actually a prisoner at Lancaster, has avowed in the relation above-mentioned, which he drew up upon the subject of the death of these three priests.’

Some Additions and Amendments to Mr. Knareshorough* s Account of Mr.

Edward Reding, alias Bamber, from a Letter of Mr. John Martin, Priest, sent out of Lancashire to the said Mr. Knareshorough, July i, 1707, quoting for his author the Rev. Mr. Barlow, and the tradition of the country.

He was an alumnus of the English College of Doway. Upon his landing at Dover, falling upon his knees, he gave God thanks for his passage over the seas and safe arrival in his native country; which being observed by the governor of Dover Castle, he suspected him to be a priest, and caused him to be apprehended. He did not deny his character, but pleaded he had not been upon English land the space of time mentioned in the statute; and upon this plea was put on ship board, and sent into banishment.

Some time after his second return, he was again apprehended in the neighbourhood of Standish, in Lancashire, and was to have been committed prisoner to Lancaster Castle; but in his way thither, being lodged at a place beyond Preston, he found means in the dead of the night (his keepers being in drink) to make his escape out of a window in his shirt, which adventure Mr. Knareshorough attributes to Mr. Whitaker. Mr. Martin adds that upon this occasion he was met by the master of Broughton Tower, admonished that night in a dream, that he should find him in such a field. He got up fully possessed with the truth of^the vision, and met him in that very field, and conducted him to his house, where he took proper care of him.

However, he fell a third time into the hands of the persecutors, and was committed to the county gaol at Lancaster. It is true he found an opportunity here also to make his escape, but to little purpose; for having travelled all the night, to his great surprise he found himself in the morning very near the town; so that he concluded it was the will of God he should suffer there, and so surrendered himself to those that sought after him; for as soon as he was missing, hue and cry was immediately raised in order to take him.

Mr. Bamher suffered at Lancaster^ August 7, 1646.

An ode or sonnet composed on his death, and that of his companions, speaks of him thus: —

Few words he spoke ^ they stopp'd his mouthy And chok'd him with a cord;

And lest he should he dead too soon,

No mercy they afford.

But quick and live they cut him down,

And butcher him full soon;

Behead, tear, and dismember straight.

And laugh when all was done.

JOHN WOODCOCK, alias FARINGDON, Priest, O.S.F.3

JOHN WOODCOCK, called in religion Father Martin of St. Felix, was born in Clayton, near Preston, in Lancashire, in the year 1603. His father was a Protestant, his mother a Catholic, who found means of sending her son over to the English College of St. Omers, to be there trained up, by the Fathers of the Society, in piety and learning. Hefe he studied his humanity; and from hence he was sent to the English College of Rome to learn his philosophy and divinity. But before he had gone through the usual course of his studies in that college, he conceived a strong desire of embracing a more strict and penitential kind of life. In

JOHN WOODCOCK order to this he first applied himself to the Capuchins, but not succeeding with them, he made his application to the English Franciscans of Doway, by whom he was received, being clothed by Rev. Father Paul Heath in 1631, and after his year’s noviceship making his profession in the hands of Father Francis Bell, who, as we have already seen, both gave a glorious testimony to their faith at Tyhurn, amio 1643. Within a year or two after his profession he was presented to the sacred order of priesthood; and some time after made preacher and confessor. He lived also for some time at Arras with Mr. Sheldon, in quality of his chaplain and confessarius, till he was called away by his superiors, in order to be sent upon the English mission.

In England he discharged the part of a zealous and laborious missionary, notwithstanding his frequent infirmities, till being desirous of ending his days in his convent, he obtained leave of his superiors to return thither; where he lived a most exemplary life, suffering much from his almost continual illnesses with remarkable patience, till. Father Paul Heath having lately suffered at Tyhurn, and the English friars at Doway having a solemn thanksgiving service on that occasion, where a French Capuchin preached a most moving sermon upon the happiness of suffering in so good a cause; Father Martin was so animated with a desire of meeting with the same crown, that he desisted not importuning his superiors till he procured leave to return again upon the mission. He landed at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and from thence made the best of his way to Lancashire, his native country: where he was apprehended the very first night after his arrival, and the next day committed by a neighbouring justice of peace to the county gaol of Lancaster C as tie, in ^hich. he was kept two whole years, suffering much from the incommodities of the place, and daily aspiring after his happy dissolution.

His trial came on in the beginning of August, 1646, when, being brought to the bar with his two companions (Mr. Reding arid Mr. Whitaker), he confessed himself a priest and a friar of the Order of St. Francis; his zeal, during the time of his imprisonment, having furnished proofs enough of his being so, if he had had a mind to conceal it. Upon this confession he was condemned to die as in cases of high treason. ’Tis hardly to be expressed with what joy he received the sentence, breaking out into acts of thanksgiving, such as. Praise he to God! God he thanked! &c. He passed the last night of his mortal life in prison, in meditation and mental prayer; and on the next day, being the yth of August, 1646, he was drawn, together with the two gentlemen above-named, both priests of the secular clergy, to the place of execution; the Catholics being much comforted and edified, and the Protestants astonished and confounded to see that cheerfulness and courage with which these servants of God went to meet that barbarous and ignominious death to which they were condemned.

At the place of execution Father Woodcock being ordered up the ladder, after some short time spent in his private devotions, offered to speak to the people of the cause of his death, and the truth of the Catholic faith; but he was quickly interrupted by the Sheriff, and flung off the ladder by the executioner. Some say the rope broke immediately, so that being perfectly sensible he was ordered up the ladder again, to be hanged a second time. But, however this was, it seems he was scarce half hanged at last, but barbarously cut down and butchered alive.

. He suffered at Lancaster, in the forty-fourth year of his age, the fifteenth of his religious profession, and the thirteenth of his priesthood. His head is kept in the cloister of the English Franciscans at Doway.

N.B. — Father Woodcock insome catalogues is known by the name of Thompson.

THOMAS WHITAKER, Priest.^

He was son of Thomas and Helen Whitaker, born at Burnley in Lancashire, a small market town in Blackburn Hundred, where he, the said was master of a noted free-school.

The son performed his grammar studies under his father’s care; and then for his farther improvement was sent abroad at the charges of a neighbouring Catholic family (Townley of Townley), and went through his higher studies in the English College of Valladolid. He was ordained priest here, and entered upon the mission in some part of the year 1638, and exercised his functions with great zeal and success for the space of five years before his commitment to Lancaster Castle. In this space of time he was once taken up, but escaped out of the hands of the pursuivants, while on the road towards Lancaster. His guard, it seems, having locked him up in his chamber at night, took the liberty of making merry below stairs, which Mr. Whitaker being apprised of, made his advantage of the occasion, and in the dead of the night let himself down out of the window; but the passage being very strait, he was forced to strip himself to4

THOMAS WHITAKER his shirt, and through haste forgot to throw out his clothes before him, so that he was obliged to make the best of his way that night in this naked condition. After wandering some miles, meeting with a poor shelter, he ventured to sit down and take breath a while, being at a loss what to do for clothes and farther security of his person, in a part of the country where he was a stranger to the roads as well as to the people. But providence declared itself in his favour; for while he was in these straits, a Catholic met with him, and being informed of his character and condition, conducted him to his own house, and took such precautions for his concealment, that the good man made a safe and effectual escape for that time, and returned to his people and the exercise of his functions, leaving the pursuivants to the confusion of being well laughed at for not taking more care of their prisoner.

‘ How long Mr. Whitaker enjoyed his liberty after this I cannot learn; only I find that he was seized a second time, and that in the year 1643, at Mr. MidgealVs of Place Hall, in Goosenargh, and then he was effectually conducted to Lancaster, and committed to the castle or county gaol, on the 7th of August, the very day and month on which three years after he and his two companions were drawn on hurdles to the common place of execution. He was apprehended by a gang of priest-catcheis, armed with clubs and swords; who, it seems, fell to club-law with their prisoner immediately, and ceased not to beat and abuse him (threatening also to murder him upon the spot) till they had extorted from him a confession that he was a priest. In prison he was treated at first with an uncommon severity, being sequestered from the other prisoners, and thrown into a nasty dungeon, where solitude and darkness were his portion, which he patiently suffered for six whole weeks before he was allowed the liberty of the common gaol, and the company of his fellow confessors.

‘ An ancient priest, his fellow prisoner, who has left behind him a short account of the behaviour of the three martyrs, always speaks of Mr. Whitaker as a person of a most saintly life; and declares, from his own observation and knowledge (having been an eye-witness of his conduct for so long a time), that he was still the first and last at pra5^er, or rather that his whole employment was a continual communication with God, either in mental or vocal prayer; and that the little time which he spared from his holy exercise was constantly employed in charitable offices about such of his fellow prisoners as by sicknesses or age stood in need of help. He was particularly assiduous with regard to his brethren, the other three priests; the more, because being the youngest by far, he looked upon it as his duty to serve them and assist them upon all occasions; and this he performed with pleasure, and at the same time w'ith so much humility, deference, and respect, as if he had verily believed them not only his seniors in years, but his superiors in authority, and was glad to be serviceable to them even in the lowest menial offices.

‘ Thus did this holy priest employ himself during the three years of his imprisonment; but when the assizes drew near, and he had notice given to prepare for his trial, he shut himself up in a more strict retirement, and a more exact spiritual retreat for a whole month; joining, during that time, to his prayer and contemplation, rigorous fasts, with other penitential exercises. For, as he was by nature very timorous, and withal very sensible of his own w^eakness; so was he remarkably careful to place his trust in God in all dangers, and exceedingly diligent in the use of prayer and other proper means, to obtain from Him, Who strengthens the weak, such grace and helps as were necessary for his support in the day of battle.

^ ‘ His hearing before the judges was quickly over; for having owned himself a priest to the pursuivants and soldiers, who, with threats of death, extorted this confession from him, and these appearing witnesses against him, he could not, and would not deny the truth; and so committing his cause to God, and his condition to the favour and compassion of the court, he said no more; but with a meek and humble deportment waited in silence the return and verdict of the jury, who after a short deliberation brought him and his two companions in guilty of their indictments; and the same day they all received sentence of death in the usual form.’

Mr. Whitaker was drawn with the other two to the place of execution, on the 7th of August^ and was the last that suffered. He was naturally of a faint-hearted and fearful disposition; and at the approaches of death shewed evident marks of the dread and anguish that assaulted his soul. This gave occasion to both his companions in their turns to exhort and encourage him; and to the Protestants to tempt him with proffers of life, if he w^ould conform. But, notwithstanding his natural fears were heightened by the sight of the barbarous butchery of his companions, and that scene of blood which he had before his eyes; the Almighty Whom he earnestly invoked supported him by His powerful grace; and, when it came to the upshot, he generously told the Sheriff, His resolution was fixed to die in the profession of the Catholic faith: Use your pleasure with me^ said he, a reprieve^ or even a pardon^ upon your conditions I utterly refuse.

1646] RICHARD BRADLEY AND JOHN FELTON

‘ When he was upon the ladder he prayed devoutly and earnestly; and having now the rope about his neck he prayed for his enemies, declaring that he freely forgave them, and that he heartily desired to die in perfect charity with all the world. Then resuming his former ejaculatory prayers, while he was calling for mercy, and recommending his departing soul into the hands of his Saviour Jesus Christ, he was suddenly flung off the ladder, and executed.’

He suffered at Lancaster, August 7, 1646, in the thirty-third year of his age, and the eighth of his mission.

RICHARD BRADLEY and JOHN FELTON, Priests, S.J., Confessors.5

These two religious fathers both died confessors of Christ within the same month, some part of this year 1646. The former falling into the hands of the pursuivants was committed close prisoner at Manchester, and died of the gaol disease before he was brought to his trial. The latter venturing to go into Lincoln in a disguise, in order to assist Father Hood, who looked for his trial and death at the next assizes, was there apprehended upon suspicion; and after some weeks’ imprisonment in that city in great want of all things, was translated to another gaol, and lodged in a cold room in the winter season, where the wind blew in on all sides. Here he continued destitute of all human aid and comfort, and continually afflicted with the blasphemies and other immoralities of the wretches his fellow prisoners, till after seven months, no witnesses appearing against him, he was discharged indeed from prison, but with his health and strength so much impaired that he died within a month. See Florus Anglo- B avaricus, pp. 73, 74, who informs us (p. 75), that Father Felton for twenty-seven years never omitted preaching on all Sundays and holidays.

THOMAS VAUGHAN, Priest, THOMAS BLOUNT, Priest, and BENEDICT COX, O.S.B., Confessors.

Thomas VAUGHAN, though he did not suffer at the common place of execution, was nevertheless a martyr for his character and religion; and that in the time of these troubles, though I have not met with the certain year of his death. Mr. Austin^ in his Christian Moderator, published under the name of W. Birchley, part ii., giving a list of the priests executed in several places during the parliamentary persecution which began in 1641, closes it with this short account of our confessor, ‘ Mr. Thomas Vaughan, after very hard usage aboard Captain Molton’s ship, soon after died at Cardiff in South Wales.’

He was of the ancient family of the Vaughans of Courtfield, and was nephew to the famous Dr. Giffard, who, from a priest and professor of divinity in the English College then residing at Rhemes, became a monk of the venerable Order of St. Bennet, and first President General of the English congregation; and at length was made Archbishop of Rhemes, and Primate of France. Mr. Vaughan, as appears by the Doway Diary, entered student in the English College of Doway, anno 1622; and having taken the College oath was, by Dr. Kellison, then President, presented for holy orders to his uncle the Archbishop of Rhemes, from whom he received all his orders in September, 1627, was from Doway sent upon the English mission the 27th of August, 1628. Other particulars relating to him I have not been able to find.

Some time also during these troubles, though I have not found the precise year, died prisoner for his faith and character, Mr. Thomas Blount, another priest of the secular clergy. He was a younger son of James Blount, Esq.; performed his humanity studies at St. Omers, was sent from thence to the English Seminary of Valladolid, but after six months’ stay there returned into England; then going abroad again, he entered himself a convictor in the English College of Lisbon, anno 1635, where he finished his studies, and was made priest. He was sent upon the mission, April 14, 1642, and having for some years discharged the duty of a laborious missioner in the worst of times, he was apprehended and committed to the common gaol in Shrewsbury, and died there.

And now we are speaking of priests that died prisoners for their religion, we must not omit to mention Father Robert Cox^ in religion called Father Benedict^ an eminent religious man of the venerable Order of St. Bennet^ who, after having received the sentence of death, and endured a long and tedious martyrdom in prison, died in the Clink, anno 1650. We are forced to pass over the sufferings of divers other priests in those evil days, for want of proper records.

Footnotes

  1. Ven. Philip Powel, alias Morgan. — From three Manuscripts preserved by the English Benedictines at Douay; see also Vie (Paris, 1647). ↩

  2. Ven. Edward Bamber, alias Reding. — From Mr. Knaresborough’s Manuscript Collections; see also Gillow. ↩

  3. Ven. lohn Woodcock, alias Faringdon. — From Certamen Seraphicum', see also Thaddeus, Franciscans in England; D.N.B. ↩

  4. Yen. Thomas Whitaker. — From Mr. Knaresborough’s Manuscript Collections. ↩

  5. From Father Keynes’s Florus Anglo -B avaricus, Foley’s Records, etc. ↩

Chapter 38 of 45