Skip to the text

The Year 1680

THOMAS THWING, Priest *

THOAIAS THWING, son of George Thwing, P^sq., of an ancient Yorkshire family, was born at Heworth, near York, in the year 1635. performed his studies abroad in the English College of Doway, where also he received all his orders, and from thence was sent priest upon the English mission in 1665, where he laboured in the vineyard of his Lord for fifteen years. He was apprehended in the time of Oates's plot, and was accused by two knights of the post, Bolron and Mowbray, or Maybury, of having been at several meetings or consults at Barnborough Hall, the seat of his uncle. Sir Thomas Gascoigne; and there conspiring with the said Sir Thomas, Sir Miles Stapylton, the Lady Tempest, and others, to1 i68o]

THOMAS THWING kill the King, and extirpate the Protestant religion. Bolron had formerly been in the service of Sir Thomas^ as steward of his coalpits, and having cheated him of great sums of money was thereupon discharged; and being also sued by him, vowed revenge, left his religion, and accused his master and all his relations of the plot. Maybury had also been a servant to Sir Thomas, and had been guilty of divers villanies. But now, as Mr. Salmon takes notice in his examination of Bishop Burnefs History, the great encouragement and caresses Oates and Bedloe met with, occasioned others of the like stamp to spring up in all parts of the kingdom, pretending to make discoveries of plots, many of whom, says he, were so plainly detected that they could obtain no credit even in those believing times, which was indeed the case of these two wretches; for their story was altogether incredible; and Sir Thomas Gascoigne, and the others by them accused, were acquitted. Only Mr. Thwing being a priest did not meet with the same justice. He was brought to his trial at York, July 29, 1680, and upon the testimony of the miscreants above mentioned, was found guilty by the jury; and on the 2d of August following, received sentence of death. To which he calmly replied, Innocens ego sum, — I am innocent. He was reprieved for a while, viz., till the 23d of October; and then by an order of the Council was executed according to sentence. He was drawn, hanged, and quartered at York, having first protested his innocency of all that was sworn against him, and spoke as follows: —

‘ This sudden news of my execution (after my reprieve) coming so unexpectedly, made me fear I should have more severity shewed me than has been to others, and consequently, that I should not have full liberty to declare my mind at the place of my execution, therefore 1 have briefly expressed myself in writing as follows: — First, As I hope for salvation of my soul, by the benefit of the blood and passion of my blessed Saviour, I most sincerely protest that what Robert Bolron and Lawrence Mowbray swore against me was absolutely false; for here, in the presence of the eternal God, I declare I never knew of any consult at Barnbow, the least prejudicial to the King or kingdom; nor was I ever at any such consult or meeting with Sir Thomas Gascoigne, Mr. Gascoigne his son. Sir Miles Stapylto?i, the Lady Tempest, Mr. Ingleby, or any other, where any thing was ever treated, spoken, or written, about killing the King, or alteration of the government; nor did I ever see or know of any list of such names of persons mentioned and sworn by them against me. Secondly, Upon my salvation I declare I never have been in my whole lifetime guilty, even so much as in thought, of any treason against his

Majesty or the kingdom, it being directly contrary to the principles of our faith. Thirdly ^ That though I have and do declare against the oath of allegiance as it is worded, yet it is only by reason of some clauses therein contained, not pertaining to allegiance, and therefore, if an oath, containing nothing but allegiance, had been legally tendered me, I should have thought it a sin to have refused it. Lastly. I acknowledge myself a priest, and to have about fifteen years performed a priest’s function, which I am so far from denying, that I think it the greatest honour imaginable.

‘ And now, dear countrymen, having made this protestation in the most plain terms I could, without any equivocation or mental reservation whatsoever, I appeal to the Eternal Judge, whether good Christians ought not to believe what is here in this manner sworn by me in my present circumstance, rather than what was sworn by my accusers; whom, notwithstanding, I beg of Almighty God to forgive, as also the jury, and all others who have been in any kind concurring to my death.’

Having full time allowed him, he spoke much more to the same effect, with a clear voice, and a countenance remarkably cheerful, declaring his innocence as to any plot, his loyalty to the King, his charity to his neighbours, and expressing his love and piety to God in fervent prayers and ejaculations. He concluded with these prophetic words: ‘ Though I know the affairs of the kingdom are in a bad posture, yet I hope they will be cleared ere long, and then the actors thereof will be more fully known.’ Just as he went off the ladder, he was distinctly heard to say these words — Sweet Jesus ^ receive my soul.

He suffered at York, October 23, 1680, in the forty-sixth year of his age. His quartered body was interred by his friends, and a copper plate buried with him, with the following Latin inscription: — ‘ R. D. Thomas Thwing de Heworth, coll. Anglo-Duaceni sacerdos, post annos 15 in missione Anglicand transactos, Eboraci condemnatus et martyrio affectus est Octob. 23, 1680. A duobus falsis testibus, ob crimen conspirationis tunc temporis Catholicis malitiose impositum.'

68o]

WILLIAM HOWARD VISCOUNT STAFFORD was second son to Thomas Earl of Arundell^ and uncle to Thomas and Henry Dukes of Norfolk. In his youth he was educated with all care and industry imaginable to improve in him the endowments of nature and grace. He was ever held to be of a generous disposition, very charitable, devout, sober, inoffensive in words, and a lover of justice. When he arrived to years of maturity he married Mary^ descended from the ancient Dukes of Buckingham, granddaughter to Edward, sister and sole heiress to Henry Lord Stafford, to whose title he succeeded, being created Baron by King Charles I. anno 1640, and soon after Viscount Stafford. During the time of the civil wars he suffered much for his loyalty to the King, always behaving himself with that courage and constancy as became a nobleman, a good Christian, and a faithful subject. After King Charles 11. ’s restoration he lived in peace, plenty, and happiness, being blessed with a most virtuous lady to his wife, and many pious and dutiful children, in which state he remained till the sixty-sixth year of his age, when about Michaelmas, anno 1678, he was accused by Titus Oates of the plot, together with the Lords Powis, Petre, Arundell, and Bellasis.

‘ My Lord Stafford, though he immediately heard of the accusation, relying on his own innocence, never left his family, nor with-drew himself from his ordinary known acquaintance and affairs, till on the 25th of October he was sent prisoner to the King's Bench, and from thence soon after to the Tower, where he remained above two years, and then was brought to his trial before the House of November 30, 1680, upon an impeachment in the name of the Commons of England.'

The first day was spent in allegations to prove a plot in general by the depositions of Oates, Dugdale, Smith, Jenison, &c. But as these did not touch my Lord Stafford in particular, the next day the managers for the House of Commons, who were of the most eloquent, and the most able lawyers in the nation, began to attack my Lord more directly by the testimonies of Oates, Dugdale, and Turberville, having first taken care that none of his counsel should2 stand near to prompt or advise him what to answer, or what exceptions to make to their depositions. These managers with all imaginable art and malice baited the good old gentleman for four whole days, who, though otherwise not the best qualified as it was thought for such a task, and upon that account pitched upon, rather than any of the other lords then prisoners, to be first brought to his trial; yet — such was the force of truth and innocence — made so good a defence (notwithstanding the great fatigue of so many days’ pleading and all the eloquence employed against him), and brought such and so just exceptions against the witnesses, and such proofs of their being perjured villains, that every unprejudiced man that will but read the memoirs of his trial, must agree that he was very unjustly condemned. However, such was the iniquity of the times and the aversion to his religion, he was found guilty by fifty-five lords, and acquitted only by thirty-one, so that sentence was passed upon him by the Lord High Steward. ‘ His behaviour throughout,’ says the continuator of Baker, ‘ was very composed and affecting; denying in the most solemn manner and with all the marks of sincerity everything that had been sworn against him.’ So this Protestant historian, who adds in the following page, that at his death he behaved himself in a manner becoming a goodmanand a good Christian, and still denied to thelast the treason which he had been charged with.

‘ When the votes were passed, the Lord High Steward declared to the prisoner. He was found guilty of the high treason whereof he was impeached. To which my Lord Stafford replied, God's Holy Name he praised for it. I confess I am surprised at it, for I did not expect it. But God's will he done, and your lordships'; I will not murmur at it. God forgive those who have falsely sworn against me.' Sentence was pronounced according to the usual form as in cases of treason: which my Lord received with a meek and resigned countenance, and then declared in the presence of Almighty God, he had no manner of malice in his heart to them that had condemned him, but freely forgave them all.

After his return to the Tower, he employed the greatest part of his time till his end in recollection and devotion, by which means he seemed to receive a daily increase both of courage and comfort. The hours he spared from prayer or necessary repose he bestowed in part in the entertainment of his friends, amongst whom he demeaned himself with exceeding sweetness, candour, and alacrity, which was always natural to him, but was more especially remarkable after he had an assurance of his death, insomuch that he could not endure to see any in grief or dejection on his account.

i68o] WILLIAM VISCOUNT STAFFORD

On Sunday^ the 19th of December^ the Lieutenant of the Tower came to my Lord and told him he was sorry he must bring him the ill news that he must die on the 29th of this month. To which message he courageously replied, I must obey, adding those words of the Psalmist, This is the day which our Lord hath made, let us rejoice and be glad in it. Then turning to his disconsolate lady. Come, said he, let us go to our prayers. ‘ And it was truly a matter of wonder,’ says my author, ‘ to those who lived and were conversant with him during this short remnant of his life, to see with what constancy and equal temper of mind he comported himself, what interior quiet and serenity he seemed to enjoy, what confidence he expressed in God, what charity to all, even to the worst of his enemies.

‘ When the hour appointed for his death drew near, he expected with some impatience the arrival of Mr. Lieutenant, telling his friends that were about him, he ought not to hasten his own death, yet he thought the time long till they came for him. A gentleman then with him in his chamber put him in mind that it was a cold day, and that his lordship should do well to put on a cloak or coat to keep him warm, he answered he would; For, said he, I may perhaps shake for cold, but I trust in God never for fear. After some time spent in spiritual discourses, at length, about ten o’clock, word was brought him that Mr. Lieutenant waited for him below; upon which he sweetly saluted his friends, bidding them not grieve for him, for this was the happiest day of all his life. Then he immediately went down and walked along by the Lieutenant’s chair (who had the gout) through a lane of soldiers to the bars without the Tower. There the Lieutenant delivered him to the Sheriffs, and they from thence guarded him to the scaffold erected on Tower Hill. Several thousands of people crowded to see him, many civilly saluted him as he passed, and few there were that seemed not to have a compassion for him.

‘ ffaving mounted the scaffold, there appeared in his countenance such an unusual vivacity, such a cheerfulness, such a confidence, such a candour, as if the innocence of his soul had shined through his body. And he looked death in the face with so undaunted a resolution, as gave occasion to many to say, Grace had left in him no resentments of nature. After a short pause viewing the people, and finding them attentive to what he should say, he stepped to one side of the scaffold, and with a graceful air, and intelligible voice, pronounced his last speech, in which.

First, he protested in the presence of the eternal God, and upon his salvation, that he was entirely innocent of the treason laid to his

MEMOIRS OF MISSIONARY PRIESTS [i68of| charge. Then giving thanks to the Divine Majesty for the long 1 time He had given him to prepare for death, he declared, that having I well considered what could be the original cause of his having been r so unjustly accused and condemned to death, he was convinced that i it was no other than his religion, of which he said he had no reason to be ashamed, for that it taught nothing but the right worship of God and due subordination to the King, and the temporal laws of the kingdom. That he most firmly believed all the articles that the Catholic Church believes and teaches, as most consonant to the ' Word of God; and that with the same Catholic Church from his Ti heart he detested all king-killing doctrine, that his principles were entirely loyal. And as for indulgences, dispensations, or pardons,, I pretended by the adversaries of the Church to be given to murder, | rebel, lie, forswear, or commit any other crime whatsoever, he pro- || fessed in the presence of God, and that without any equivocation or I mental reservation whatsoever, that he was never taught any such?l thing, nor believed, nor practised any such thing. That if he had been really guilty of any of those crimes of which he was accused, he ^ should have been worse than a fool, and his own self-murderer into I the bargain, if he had not acknowledged his guilt, since by so doing I he might have saved his life; ‘ But had I a thousand lives,’ said he, I I would lose them all rather than falsely accuse either myself or any other whatsoever.’ * I

Then again declaring his abhorrence of all treason and murder,! and that to his knowledge he had never spoke to, or seen Oates, or, Turberville till his trial, or ever spoke with Dugdale about any treasonable matters (whom nevertheless he heartily forgave, and * all others that had any hand in his death), he concluded his speech | as follows: — 5

‘ I shall end with my hearty prayers for the happiness of his | Majesty, that he may enjoy all the happiness in this world, and in “ the world to come, and govern his people according to the laws of ^ God; and that the people may be sensible what a blessing God hath so miraculously given them, and obey him as they ought. I ask pardon with a prostrate heart of Almighty God for all the great offences I have committed against the Divine Majesty; and hope, through the merits and passion of Christ Jesus, to obtain everlasting happiness; into whose hands I commit my spirit, asking pardon of any person that I have done any wrong to, &c.

‘ I beseech God not to revenge my innocent blood upon the nation, or on those that were the cause of it, with my last breath; I do with my last breath truly assert my innocency, and i68o]

hope the omnipotent, all-seeing, just God will deal with me accordingly.’

‘ His speech being ended, he delivered several written copies of it to the Sheriffs, &c. Then he returned to the middle of the scaffold; where encompassed by his Catholic friends he kneeled down, and reverently making the sign of the cross, pronounced aloud with exceeding devotion, an excellent prayer adapted to his present circumstance, to which he joined several pious ejaculations, wherein with singular compunction, and abundance of tears, he implored the Divine mercy and pardon for his sins past. He recommended his soul to his dear Redeemer Christ; he blessed His holy name, and offered his life to Him a willing sacrifice of gratitude, piety, and love.

‘ Remaining still on his knees, he again protested his innocence with all the asseverations a dying Christian is capable of making. Then rising up he a second time saluted the people, telling them they had as good and gracious a King as ever reigned; and earnestly exhorting them to be faithful and constant in their allegiance to him; praying to God heartily to bless his Majesty, and preserve him from his enemies; to bless the nation; to bless and be with all them there present, especially all loyal subjects; declaring again his own innocence; desiring the prayers of all good Christians; begging God’s mercy and pardon for his sins; asking forgiveness of all, and beseeching the Divine goodness not to revenge his innocent blood upon the whole kingdom; no not upon those by whose perjuries he was brought thither, to whom he wished from his heart no other hurt than that they should repent and tell truth.

‘ Most of the auditors seemed to be touched with a sensible compassion for him; some as he spoke put off their hats and bowed to him, in sign that they agreed to what he said; others by distinct acclamations answered. We believe you, my Lord, God bless you, my Lord, &c. Afterwards he applied himself to his friends about him, whom he lovingly embraced, and with a pleasant voice and cheerful aspect took his last leave of them for this world. Then being made ready, he knelt down before the block, and making the sign of the cross recommended himself with great devotion to the Divine mercy. He kissed the block, and used several devout ejaculations, such as. Sweet Jesu, receive my soul; Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit, &c. Then laid his head down upon the block, continuing still in prayer, and expecting the stroke of death, with wonderful courage and constancy, not shewing the least sign of fear, or seeming in the least to quake or tremble. After he had laid thus a good space, finding that the headsman delayed the execution of his office, he once more raised himself up upon his knees, and with a grave ' and serene aspect asked. Why they stayed? It was answered. For a \ sign. What sign will you give^ Sir? He replied. None at all; take your own time; God's will be done; I am ready. The headsman said, I / hope you forgive me; he answered, / do. Then blessing himself; again with the sign of the cross, he reposed his head upon the block, i which with one Slow was severed from his body. He was interred ] privately in the Tower. j

He lived sixty-eight years, and suffered on the feast of St. | Thomas of Canterbury, December 29, 1680. ■

Footnotes

  1. Ven. Thomas Thwing (or Thweng). — From his printed trial and speech (in State Trials)) see also Knaresborough AISS.; Dodd, Church History. ↩

  2. Ven. William Howard, Viscount Stafford. — From Stafford’s Memoirs, published 1681; his printed trial and speech, etc. in State Trials; Life, by Sister M. Francis; Catholic Encyclopcedia; D.N.B. ↩

Chapter 44 of 45