John Huss was born at Hussenitz, a village in Bohemia,
about the year 1380. His parents gave him the best education their
circumstances would admit; and having acquired a tolerable knowledge of the
classics at a private school, he was removed to the university of Prague, where
he soon gave strong proofs of his mental powers, and was remarkable for his
diligence and application to study.
In 1398, Huss commenced bachelor of divinity, and was after successively chosen pastor of the Church of Bethlehem, in Prague, and dean and rector of the university. In these stations he discharged his duties with great fidelity; and became, at length, so conspicuous for his preaching, which was in conformity with the doctrines of Wickliffe, that it was not likely he could long escape the notice of the pope and his adherents, against whom he inveighed with no small degree of asperity.
The English reformist, Wickliffe, had so kindled the light of reformation, that it began to illumine the darkest corners of popery and ignorance. His doctrines spread into Bohemia, and were well received by great numbers of people, but by none so particularly as John Huss, and his zealous friend and fellow martyr, Jerome of Prague.
The archbishop of Prague, finding the reformists daily increasing, issued a decree to suppress the further spreading of Wickliffe's writings: but this had an effect quite different to what he expected, for it stimulated the friends of those doctrines to greater zeal, and almost the whole university united to propagate them.
Being strongly attached to the doctrines of Wickliffe, Huss opposed the decree of the archbishop, who, however, at length, obtained a bull from the pope, giving him commission to prevent the publishing of Wickliffe's doctrines in his province. By virtue of this bull, the archbishop condemned the writings of Wickliffe: he also proceeded against four doctors, who had not delivered up the copies of that divine, and prohibited them, notwithstanding their privileges, to preach to any congregation. Dr. Huss, with some other members of the university, protested against these proceedings, and entered an appeal from the sentence of the archbishop.
The affair being made known to the pope, he granted a commission to Cardinal Colonna, to cite John Huss to appear personally at the court of Rome, to answer the accusations laid against him, of preaching both errors and heresies. Dr. Huss desired to be excused from a personal appearance, and was so greatly favored in Bohemia, that King Winceslaus, the queen, the nobility, and the university, desired the pope to dispense with such an appearance; as also that he would not suffer the kingdom of Bohemia to lie under the accusation of heresy, but permit them to preach the Gospel with freedom in their places of worship.
Three proctors appeared for Dr. Huss before Cardinal Colonna. They endeavored to excuse his absence, and said they were ready to answer in his behalf. But the cardinal declared Huss contumacious, and excommunicated him accordingly. The proctors appealed to the pope, and appointed four cardinals to examine the process: these commissioners confirmed the former sentence, and extended the excommunication not only to Huss but to all his friends and followers.
From this unjust sentence Huss appealed to a future Council, but without success; and, notwithstanding so severe a decree, and an expulsion in consequence from his church in Prague, he retired to Hussenitz, his native place, where he continued to promulgate his new doctrine, both from the pulpit and with the pen.
The letters which he wrote at this time were very numerous; and he compiled a treatise in which he maintained, that reading the books of Protestants could not be absolutely forbidden. He wrote in defence of Wickliffe's book on the Trinity; and boldly declared against the vices of the pope, the cardinals, and clergy, of those corrupt times. He wrote also many other books, all of which were penned with a strength of argument that greatly facilitated the spreading of his doctrines.
In the month of November, 1414, a general Council was assembled at Constance, in Germany, in order, as was pretended, for the sole purpose of determining a dispute then pending between three persons who contended for the papacy; but the real motive was to crush the progress of the Reformation.
John Huss was summoned to appear at this Council; and, to encourage him, the emperor sent him a safe-conduct: the civilities, and even reverence, which Huss met with on his journey were beyond imagination. The streets, and sometimes the very roads, were lined with people, whom respect, rather than curiosity, had brought together.
He was ushered into the town with great acclamations, and it may be said that he passed through Germany in a kind of triumph. He could not help expressing his surprise at the treatment he received: "I thought (said he) I had been an outcast. I now see my worst friends are in Bohemia."
As soon as Huss arrived at Constance, he immediately took logdings in a remote part of the city. A short time after his arrival, came one Stephen Paletz, who was employed by the clergy at Prague to manage the intended prosecution against him. Paletz was afterwards joined by Michael de Cassis, on the part of the court of Rome. These two declared themselves his accusers, and drew up a set of articles against him, which they presented to the pope and the prelates of the Council.
When it was known that he was in the city he was immediately arrested, and committed prisoner to a chamber in the palace. This violation of common law and justice was particularly noticed by one of Huss's friends, who urged the imperial safe-conduct; but the pope replied he never granted any safe-conduct, nor was he bound by that of the emperor.
While Huss was in confinement, the Council acted the part of inquisitors.
They condemned the doctrines of Wickliffe, and even ordered his remains to be dug up and burned to ashes; which orders were strictly complied with. In the meantime, the nobility of Bohemia and Poland strongly interceded for Huss; and so far prevailed as to prevent his being condemned unheard, which had been resolved on by the commissioners appointed to try him.
When he was brought before the Council, the articles exhibited against him were read: they were upwards of forty in number, and chiefly extracted from his writings.
John Huss's answer was this: "I did appeal unto the pope; who being dead, and the cause of my matter remaining undetermined, I appealed likewise unto his successor John XXIII: before whom when, by the space of two years, I could not be admitted by my advocates to defend my cause, I appealed unto the high judge Christ."
When John Huss had spoken these words, it was demanded of him whether he had received absolution of the pope or no? He answered, "No." Then again, whether it was lawful for him to appeal unto Christ or no? Whereunto John Huss answered: "Verily I do affirm here before you all, that there is no more just or effectual appeal, than that appeal which is made unto Christ, forasmuch as the law doth determine, that to appeal is no other thing than in a cause of grief or wrong done by an inferior judge, to implore and require aid at a higher Judge's hand. Who is then a higher Judge than Christ? Who, I say, can know or judge the matter more justly, or with more equity? when in Him there is found no deceit, neither can He be deceived; or, who can better help the miserable and oppressed than He?" While John Huss, with a devout and sober countenance, was speaking and pronouncing those words, he was derided and mocked by all the whole Council.
These excellent sentences were esteemed as so many expressions of treason, and tended to inflame his adversaries. Accordingly, the bishops appointed by the Council stripped him of his priestly garments, degraded him, put a paper miter on his head, on which was painted devils, with this inscription, "A ringleader of heretics." Which when he saw, he said: "My Lord Jesus Christ, for my sake, did wear a crown of thorns; why should not I then, for His sake, again wear this light crown, be it ever so ignominious? Truly I will do it, and that willingly." When it was set upon his head, the bishop said: "Now we commit thy soul unto the devil." "But I," said John Huss, lifting his eyes towards the heaven, "do commend into Thy hands, O Lord Jesus Christ! my spirit which Thou has redeemed."
When the chain was put about him at the stake, he said, with a smiling countenance, "My Lord Jesus Christ was bound with a harder chain than this for my sake, and why then should I be ashamed of this rusty one?"
When the fagots were piled up to his very neck, the duke of Bavaria was so officious as to desire him to abjure. "No, (said Huss;) I never preached any doctrine of an evil tendency; and what I taught with my lips I now seal with my blood." He then said to the executioner, "You are now going to burn a goose, (Huss signifying goose in the Bohemian language:) but in a century you will have a swan which you can neither roast nor boil." If he were prophetic, he must have meant Martin Luther, who shone about a hundred years after, and who had a swan for his arms.
The flames were now applied to the fagots, when our martyr sung a hymn with so loud and cheerful a voice that he was heard through all the cracklings of the combustibles, and the noise of the multitude. At length his voice was interrupted by the severity of the flames, which soon closed his existence.
Then, with great diligence, gathering the ashes together, they cast them into the river Rhine, that the least remnant of that man should not be left upon the earth, whose memory, notwithstanding, cannot be abolished out of the minds of the godly, neither by fire, neither by water, neither by any kind oof torment.
This reformer, who was the companion of Dr. Huss, and may be said to be a co-martyr with him, was born at Prague, and educated in that university, where he particularly distinguished himself for his great abilities and learning. He likewise visited several other learned seminaries in Europe, particularly the universities of Paris, Heidelburg, Cologne and Oxford. At the latter place he became acquainted with the works of Wickliffe, and being a person of uncommon application, he translated many of them into his native language, having, with great pains, made himself master of the English tongue.
On his return to Prague, he professed himself an open favorer of Wickliffe, and finding that his doctrines had made considerable progress in Bohemia, and that Huss was the principal promoter of them, he became an assistant to him in the great work of reformation.
On the fourth of April, 1415, Jerome arrived at Constance, about three months before the death of Huss. He entered the town privately, and consulting with some of the leaders of his party, whom he found there, was easily convinced he could not be of any service to his friends.
Finding that his arrival in Constance was publicly known, and that the Council intended to seize him, he thought it most prudent to retire. Accordingly, the next day he went to Iberling, an imperial town, about a mile from Constance. From this place he wrote to the emperor, and proposed his readiness to appear before the Council, if he would give him a safe-conduct; but this was refused. He then applied to the Council, but met with an answer no less unfavorable than that from the emperor.
After this, he set out on his return to Bohemia. He had the precaution to take with him a certificate, signed by several of the Bohemian nobility, then at Constance, testifying that he had used all prudent means in his power to procure a hearing.
Jerome, however, did not thus escape. He was seized at Hirsaw by an officer belonging to the duke of Sultsbach, who, though unauthorized so to act, made little doubt of obtaining thanks from the Council for so acceptable a service.
The duke of Sultsbach, having Jerome now in his power, wrote to the Council for directions how to proceed. The Council, after expressing their obligations to the duke, desired him to send the prisoner immediately to Constance. The elector palatine met him on the way, and conducted him into the city, himself riding on horseback, with a numerous retinue, who led Jerome in fetters by a long chain; and immediately on his arrival he was committed to a loathsome dungeon.
Jerome was treated nearly in the same manner as Huss had been, only that he was much longer confined, and shifted from one prison to another. At length, being brought before the Council, he desired that he might plead his own cause, and exculpate himself: which being refused him, he broke out into the following exclamation:
"What barbarity is this! For three hundred and forty days have I been confined in a variety of prisons. There is not a misery, there is not a want, that I have not experienced. To my enemies you have allowed the fullest scope of accusation: to me you deny the least opportunity of defence. Not an hour will you now indulge me in preparing for my trial. You have swallowed the blackest calumnies against me. You have represented me as a heretic, without knowing my doctrine; as an enemy of the faith, before you knew what faith I professed: as a persecutor of priests before you could have an opportunity of understanding my sentiments on that head. You are a General Council: in you center all this world can communicate of gravity, wisdom, and sanctity: but still you are men, and men are seducible by appearances. The higher your character is for wisdom, the greater ought your care to be not to deviate into folly. The cause I now plead is not my own cause: it is the cause of men, it is the cause of Christians; it is a cause which is to affect the rights of posterity, however the experiment is to be made in my person."
This speech had not the least effect; Jerome was obliged to hear the charge read, which was reduced under the following heads: 1. That he was a derider of the papal dignity. 2. An opposer of the pope. 3. An enemy to the cardinals. 4. A persecutor of the prelates. 5. A hater of the Christian religion.
The trial of Jerome was brought on the third day after his accusation and witnesses were examined in support of the charge. The prisoner was prepared for his defence, which appears almost incredible, when we consider he had been three hundred and forty days shut up in loathsome prisons, deprived of daylight, and almost starved for want of common necessaries. But his spirit soared above these disadvantages, under which a man less animated would have sunk; nor was he more at a loss of quotations from the fathers and ancient authors than if he had been furnished with the finest library.
The most bigoted of the assembly were unwilling he should be heard, knowing what effect eloquence is apt to have on the minds of the most prejudiced. At length, however, it was carried by the majority that he should have liberty to proceed in his defence, which he began in such an exalted strain of moving elocution that the heart of obdurate zeal was seen to melt, and the mind of superstition seemed to admit a ray of conviction. He made an admirable distinction between evidence as resting upon facts, and as supported by malice and calumny. He laid before the assembly the whole tenor of his life and conduct. He observed that the greatest and most holy men had been known to differ in points of speculation, with a view to distinguish truth, not to keep it concealed. He expressed a noble contempt of all his enemies, who would have induced him to retract the cause of virtue and truth. He entered upon a high encomium of Huss; and declared he was ready to follow him in the glorious task of martyrdom. He then touched upon the most defensible doctrines of Wickliffe; and concluded with observing that it was far from his intention to advance anything against the state of the Church of God; that it was only against the abuse of the clergy he complained; and that he could not help saying, it was certainly impious that the patrimony of the Church, which was originally intended for the purpose of charity and universal benevolence, should be prostituted to the pride of the eye, in feasts, foppish vestments, and other reproaches to the name and profession of Christianity.
The trial being over, Jerome received the same sentence that had been passed upon his martyred countryman. In consequence of this, he was, in the usual style of popish affectation, delivered over to the civil power: but as he was a layman, he had not to undergo the ceremony of degradation. They had prepared a cap of paper painted with red devils, which being put upon his head, he said, "Our Lord Jesus Christ, when He suffered death for me a most miserable sinner, did wear a crown of thorns upon His head, and for His sake will I wear this cap."
Two days were allowed him in hopes that he would recant; in which time the cardinal of Florence used his utmost endeavors to bring him over. But they all proved ineffectual. Jerome was resolved to seal the doctrine with his blood; and he suffered death with the most distinguished magnanimity.
In going to the place of execution he sang several hymns, and when he came to the spot, which was the same where Huss had been burnt, he knelt down, and prayed fervently. He embraced the stake with great cheerfulness, and when they went behind him to set fire to the fagots, he said, "Come here, and kindle it before my eyes; for if I had been afraid of it, I had not come to this place." The fire being kindled, he sang a hymn, but was soon interrupted by the flames; and the last words he was heard to say these, "This soul in flames I offer Christ, to Thee."
The elegant Pogge, a learned gentleman of Florence, secretary to two popes, and a zealous but liberal Catholic, in a letter to Leonard Arotin, bore ample testimony of the extraordinary powers and virtues of Jerome whom he emphatically styles, A prodigious man!
The real name of this zealous servant of Christ was John de Trocznow, that of Zisca is a Bohemian word, signifying one-eyed, as he had lost an eye. He was a native of Bohemia, of a good family and left the court of Winceslaus, to enter into the service of the king of Poland against the Teutonic knights. Having obtained a badge of honor and a purse of ducats for his gallantry, at the close of the war, he returned to the court of Winceslaus, to whom he boldly avowed the deep interest he took in the bloody affront offered to his majesty's subjects at Constance in the affair of Huss. Winceslaus lamented it was not in his power to revenge it; and from this moment Zisca is said to have formed the idea of asserting the religious liberties of his country. In the year 1418, the Council was dissolved, having done more mischief than good, and in the summer of that year a general meeting was held of the friends of religious reformation, at the castle of Wisgrade, who, conducted by Zisca, repaired to the emperor with arms in their hands, and offered to defend him against his enemies. The king bid them use their arms properly, and this stroke of policy first insured to Zisca the confidence of his party.
Winceslaus was succeeded by Sigismond, his brother, who rendered himself odious to the reformers; and removed all such as were obnoxious to his government. Zisca and his friends, upon this, immediately flew to arms, declared war against the emperor and the pope, and laid siege to Pilsen with 40,000 men. They soon became masters of the fortress, and in a short time all the southwest part of Bohemia submitted, which greatly increased the army of the reformers. The latter having taken the pass of Muldaw, after a severe conflict of five days and nights, the emperor became alarmed, and withdrew his troops from the confines of Turkey, to march them into Bohemia. At Berne in Moravia, he halted, and sent despatches to treat of peace, as a preliminary to which Zisca gave up Pilsen and all the fortresses he had taken. Sigismond proceeding in a manner that clearly manifested he acted on the Roman doctrine, that no faith was to be kept with heretics, and treating some of the authors of the late disturbances with severity, the alarm-bell of revolt was sounded from one end of Bohemia to the other. Zisca took the castle of Prague by the power of money, and on August 19, 1420, defeated the small army the emperor had hastily got together to oppose him. He next took Ausea by assault, and destroyed the town with a barbarity that disgraced the cause in which he fought.
Winter approaching, Zisca fortified his camp on a strong hill about forty miles from Prague, which he called Mount Tabor, whence he surprised a body of horse at midnight, and made a thousand men prisoners. Shortly after, the emperor obtained possession of the strong fortress of Prague, by the same means Zisca had before done: it was blockaded by the latter, and want began to threaten the emperor, who saw the necessity of a retreat.
Determined to make a desperate effort, Sigismond attacked the fortified camp of Zisca on Mount Tabor, and carried it with great slaughter. Many other fortresses also fell, and Zisca withdrew to a craggy hill, which he strongly fortified, and whence he so annoyed the emperor in his approaches against the town of Prague, that he found he must either abandon the siege or defeat his enemy. The marquis of Misnia was deputed to effect this with a large body of troops, but the event was fatal to the imperialists; they were defeated, and the emperor having lost nearly one third of his army, retreated from the siege of Prague, harassed in his rear by the enemy.
In the spring of 1421, Zisca commenced the campaign, as before, by destroying all the monasteries in his way. He laid siege to the castle of Wisgrade, and the emperor coming to relieve it, fell into a snare, was defeated with dreadful slaughter, and this important fortress was taken. Our general had now leisure to attend to the work of reformation, but he was much disgusted with the gross ignorance and superstition of the Bohemian clergy, who rendered themselves contemptible in the eyes of the whole army. When he saw any symptoms of uneasiness in the camp, he would spread alarm in order to divert them, and draw his men into action. In one of these expeditions, he encamped before the town of Rubi, and while pointing out the place for an assault, an arrow shot from the wall struck him in the eye. At Prague it was extracted, but, being barbed, it tore the eye out with it. A fever succeeded, and his life was with difficulty preserved. He was now totally blind, but still desirous of attending the army. The emperor, having summoned the states of the empire to assist him, resolved, with their assistance, to attack Zisca in the winter, when many of his troops departed until the return of spring.
The confederate princes undertook the siege of Soisin, but at the approach merely of the Bohemian general, they retreated. Sigismond nevertheless advanced with his formidable army, consisting of 15,000 Hungarian horse and 25,000 infantry, well equipped for a winter campaign. This army spread terror through all the east of Bohemia. Wherever Sigismond marched, the magistrates laid their keys at his feet, and were treated with severity or favor, according to their merits in his cause. Zisca, however, with speedy marches, approached, and the emperor resolved to try his fortune once more with that invincible chief. On the thirteenth of January, 1422, the two armies met on a spacious plain near Kremnitz. Zisca appeared in the center of his front line, guarded, or rather conducted, by a horseman on each side, armed with a pole-axe. His troops having sung a hymn, with a determined coolness drew their swords, and waited for a signal. When his officers had informed him that the ranks were all well closed, he waved his sabre round his head, which was the sign of battle.
This battle is described as a most awful sight. The extent of the plain was one continued scene of disorder. The imperial army fled towards the confines of Moravia, the Taborites, without intermission, galling their rear. The river Igla, then frozen opposed their flight. The enemy pressing furiously, many of the infantry and in a manner the whole body of the cavalry, attempted the river. The ice gave way, and not fewer than two thousand were swallowed up in the water. Zisca now returned to Tabor, laden with all the spoils and trophies which the most complete victory could give.
Zisca now began again to pay attention to the Reformation; he forbid all the prayers for the dead, images, sacerdotal vestments, fasts, and festivals. Priests were to be preferred according to their merits, and no one to be persecuted for religious opinions. In everything Zisca consulted the liberal minded, and did nothing without general concurrence. An alarming disagreement now arose at Prague between the magistrates who were Calixtans, or receivers of the Sacraments in both kinds, and the Taborites, nine of the chiefs of whom were privately arraigned, and put to death. The populace, enraged, sacrificed the magistrates, and the affair terminated without any particular consequence. The Calixtans having sunk into contempt, Zisca was solicited to assume the crown of Bohemia; but this he nobly refused, and prepared for the next campaign, in which Sigismond resolved to make his last effort. While the marquis of Misnia penetrated into Upper Saxony, the emperor proposed to enter Moravia, on the side of Hungary. Before the marquis had taken the field, Zisca sat down before the strong town of Aussig, situated on the Elbe. The marquis flew to its relief with a superior army, and, after an obstinate engagement, was totally defeated and Aussig capitulated. Zisca then went to the assistance of Procop, a young general whom he had appointed to keep Sigismond in check, and whom he compelled to abandon the siege of Pernitz, after laying eight weeks before it.
Zisca, willing to give his troops some respite from fatigue, now entered Prague, hoping his presence would quell any uneasiness that might remain after the late disturbance: but he was suddenly attacked by the people; and he and his troop having beaten off the citizens, effected a retreat to his army, whom he acquainted with the treacherous conduct of the Calixtans. Every effort of address was necessary to appease their vengeful animosity, and at night, in a private interview between Roquesan, an ecclesiastic of great eminence in Prague, and Zisca, the latter became reconciled, and the intended hostilities were done away.
Mutually tired of the war, Sigismond sent to Zisca, requesting him to sheath his sword, and name his conditions. A place of congress being appointed, Zisca, with his chief officers, set out to meet the emperor. Compelled to pass through a part of the country where the plague raged, he was seized with it at the castle of Briscaw, and departed this life, October 6, 1424. Like Moses, he died in view of the completion of his labors, and was buried in the great Church of Czaslow, in Bohemia, where a monument is erected to his memory, with this inscription on it-"Here lies John Zisca, who, having defended his country against the encroachments of papal tyranny, rests in this hallowed place, in despite of the pope."
After the death of Zisca, Procop was defeated, and fell with the liberties of his country.
After the death of Huss and Jerome, the pope, in conjunction with the Council of Constance, ordered the Roman clergy everywhere to excommunicate such as adopted their opinions, or commiserated their fate.
These orders occasioned great contentions between the papists and reformed Bohemians, which was the cause of a violent persecution against the latter. At Prague, the persecution was extremely severe, until, at length, the reformed being driven to desperation, armed themselves, attacked the senate-house, and threw twelve senators, with the speaker, out of the senate-house windows, whose bodies fell upon spears, which were held up by others of the reformed in the street, to receive them.
Being informed of these proceedings, the pope came to Florence, and publicly excommunicated the reformed Bohemians, exciting the emperor of Germany, and all kings, princes, dukes, etc., to take up arms, in order to extirpate the whole race; and promising, by way of encouragement, full remission of all sins whatever, to the most wicked person, if he did but kill one Bohemian Protestant.
This occasioned a bloody war; for several popish princes undertook the extirpation, or at least expulsion, of the proscribed people; and the Bohemians, arming themselves, prepared to repel force by force, in the most vigorous and effectual manner. The popish army prevailing against the Protestant forces at the battle of Cuttenburgh, the prisoners of the reformed were taken to three deep mines near that town, and several hundreds were cruelly thrown into each, where they miserably perished.
A merchant of Prague, going to Breslau, in Silesia, happened to lodge in the same inn with several priests. Entering into conversation upon the subject of religious controversy, he passed many encomiums upon the martyred John Huss, and his doctrines. The priests taking umbrage at this, laid an information against him the next morning, and he was committed to prison as a heretic. Many endeavors were used to persuade him to embrace the Roman Catholic faith, but he remained steadfast to the pure doctrines of the reformed Church. Soon after his imprisonment, a student of the university was committed to the same jail; when, being permitted to converse with the merchant, they mutually comforted each other. On the day appointed for execution, when the jailer began to fasten ropes to their feet, by which they were to be dragged through the streets, the student appeared quite terrified, and offered to abjure his faith, and turn Roman Catholic if he might be saved. The offer was accepted, his abjuration was taken by a priest, and he was set at liberty. A priest applying to the merchant to follow the example of the student, he nobly said, "Lose no time in hopes of my recantation, your expectations will be vain; I sincerely pity that poor wretch, who has miserably sacrificed his soul for a few more uncertain years of a troublesome life; and, so far from having the least idea of following his example, I glory in the very thoughts of dying for the sake of Christ." On hearing these words, the priest ordered the executioner to proceed, and the merchant being drawn through the city was brought to the place of execution, and there burnt.
Pichel, a bigoted popish magistrate, apprehended twenty-four Protestants, among whom was his daughter's husband. As they all owned they were of the reformed religion, he indiscriminately condemned them to be drowned in the river Abbis. On the day appointed for the execution, a great concourse of people attended, among whom was Pichel's daughter. This worthy wife threw herself at her father's feet, bedewed them with tears, and in the most pathetic manner, implored him to commisserate her sorrow, and pardon her husband. The obdurate magistrate sternly replied, "Intercede not for him, child, he is a heretic, a vile heretic." To which she nobly answered, "Whatever his faults may be, or however his opinions may differ from yours, he is still my husband, a name which, at a time like this, should alone employ my whole consideration." Pichel flew into a violent passion and said, "You are mad! cannot you, after the death of this, have a much worthier husband?" "No, sir, (replied she) my affections are fixed upon this, and death itself shall not dissolve my marriage vow." Pichel, however, continued inflexible, and ordered the prisoners to be tied with their hands and feet behind them, and in that manner be thrown into the river. As soon as this was put into execution, the young lady watched her opportunity, leaped into the waves, and embracing the body of her husband, both sank together into one watery grave. An uncommon instance of conjugal love in a wife, and of an inviolable attachment to, and personal affection for, her husband.
The emperor Ferdinand, whose hatred to the Bohemian Protestants was without bounds, not thinking he had sufficiently oppressed them, instituted a high court of reformers, upon the plan of the Inquisition, with this difference, that the reformers were to remove from place to place, and always to be attended by a body of troops.
These reformers consisted chiefly of Jesuits, and from their decision, there was no appeal, by which it may be easily conjectured, that it was a dreadful tribunal indeed.
This bloody court, attended by a body of troops, made the tour of Bohemia, in which they seldom examined or saw a prisoner, suffering the soldiers to murder the Protestants as they pleased, and then to make a report of the matter to them afterward.
The first victim of their cruelty was an aged minister, whom they killed as he lay sick in his bed; the next day they robbed and murdered another, and soon after shot a third, as he was preaching in his pulpit.
A nobleman and clergyman, who resided in a Protestant village, hearing of the approach of the high court of reformers and the troops, fled from the place, and secreted themselves. The soldiers, however, on their arrival, seized upon a schoolmaster, asked him where the lord of that place and the minister were concealed, and where they had hidden their treasures. The schoolmaster replied that he could not answer either of the questions. They then stripped him naked, bound him with cords, and beat him most unmercifully with cudgels. This cruelty not extorting any confession from him, they scorched him in various parts of his body; when, to gain a respite from his torments, he promised to show them where the treasures were hid. The soldiers gave ear to this with pleasure, and the schoolmaster led them to a ditch full of stones, saying, "Beneath these stones are the treasures ye seek for." Eager after money, they went to work, and soon removed those stones, but not finding what they sought after, they beat the schoolmaster to death, buried him in the ditch, and covered him with the very stones he had made them remove.
Some of the soldiers ravished the daughters of a worthy Protestant before his face, and then tortured him to death. A minister and his wife they tied back to back and burnt. Another minister they hung upon a cross beam, and making a fire under him, broiled him to death. A gentleman they hacked into small pieces, and they filled a young man's mouth with gunpowder, and setting fire to it, blew his head to pieces.
As their principal rage was directed against the clergy, they took a pious Protestant minister, and tormenting him daily for a month together, in the following manner, making their cruelty regular, systematic, and progressive.
They placed him amidst them, and made him the subject of their derision and mockery, during a whole day's entertainment, trying to exhaust his patience, but in vain, for he bore the whole with true Christian fortitude. They spit in his face, pulled his nose, and pinched him in most parts of his body. He was hunted like a wild beast, until ready to expire with fatigue. They made him run the gauntlet between two ranks of them, each striking him with a twig. He was beat with their fists. He was beat with ropes. They scourged him with wires. He was beat with cudgels. They tied him up by the heels with his head downwards, until the blood started out of his nose, mouth, etc. They hung him by the right arm until it was dislocated, and then had it set again. The same was repeated with his left arm. Burning papers dipped in oil were placed between his fingers and toes. His flesh was torn with red-hot pincers. He was put to the rack. They pulled off the nails of his right hand. The same repeated with his left hand. He was bastinadoed on his feet. A slit was made in his right ear. The same repeated on his left ear. His nose was slit. They whipped him through the town upon an ass. They made several incisions in his flesh. They pulled off the toe nails of his right foot. The same they repeated with his left foot. He was tied up by the loins, and suspended for a considerable time. The teeth of his upper jaw were pulled out. The same was repeated with his lower jaw. Boiling lead was poured upon his fingers. The same was repeated with his toes. A knotted cord was twisted about his forehead in such a manner as to force out his eyes.
During the whole of these horrid cruelties, particular care was taken that his wounds should not mortify, and not to injure him mortally until the last day, when the forcing out of his eyes proved his death.
Innumerable were the other murders and depredations committed by those unfeeling brutes, and shocking to humanity were the cruelties which they inflicted on the poor Bohemian Protestants. The winter being far advanced, however, the high court of reformers, with their infernal band of military ruffians, thought proper to return to Prague; but on their way, meeting with a Protestant pastor, they could not resist the temptation of feasting their barbarous eyes with a new kind of cruelty, which had just suggested itself to the diabolical imagination of one of the soldiers. This was to strip the minister naked, and alternately to cover him with ice and burning coals. This novel mode of tormenting a fellow creature was immediately put into practice, and the unhappy victim expired beneath the torments, which seemed to delight his inhuman persecutors.
A secret order was soon after issued by the emperor, for apprehending all noblemen and gentlemen, who had been principally concerned in supporting the Protestant cause, and in nominating Frederic elector Palatine of the Rhine, to be king of Bohemia. These, to the number of fifty, were apprehended in one night, and at one hour, and brought from the places where they were taken, to the castle of Prague, and the estates of those who were absent from the kingdom were confiscated, themselves were made outlaws, and their names fixed upon a gallows, as marks of public ignominy.
The high court of reformers then proceeded to try the fifty, who had been apprehended, and two apostate Protestants were appointed to examine them. These examinants asked a great number of unnecessary and impertinent questions, which so exasperated one of the noblemen, who was naturally of a warm temper, that he exclaimed, opening his breast at the same time, "Cut here, search my heart, you shall find nothing but the love of religion and liberty; those were the motives for which I drew my sword, and for those I am willing to suffer death."
As none of the prisoners would change their religion, or acknowledge they had been in error, they were all pronounced guilty; but the sentence was referred to the emperor. When that monarch had read their names, and an account of the respective accusations against them, he passed judgment on all, but in a different manner, as his sentences were of four kinds, viz. death, banishment, imprisonment for life, and imprisonment during pleasure.
Twenty being ordered for execution, were informed they might send for Jesuits, monks, or friars, to prepare for the awful change they were to undergo; but that no Protestants should be permitted to come near them. This proposal they rejected, and strove all they could to comfort and cheer each other upon the solemn occasion.
On the morning of the day appointed for the execution, a cannon was fired as a signal to bring the prisoners from the castle to the principal market place, in which scaffolds were erected, and a body of troops were drawn up to attend the tragic scene.
The prisoners left the castle with as much cheerfulness as if they had been going to an agreeable entertainment, instead of a violent death.
Exclusive of soldiers, Jesuits, priests, executioners, attendants, etc., a prodigious concourse of people attended, to see the exit of these devoted martyrs, who were executed in the following order.
Lord Schilik was about fifty years of age, and was possessed of great natural and acquired abilities. When he was told he was to be quartered, and his parts scattered in different places, he smiled with great serenity, saying, "The loss of a sepulchre is but a trifling consideration." A gentleman who stood by, crying, "Courage, my lord!" he replied, "I have God's favor, which is sufficient to inspire any one with courage: the fear of death does not trouble me; formerly I have faced him in fields of battle to oppose Antichrist; and now dare face him on a scaffold, for the sake of Christ." Having said a short prayer, he told the executioner he was ready. He cut off his right hand and his head, and then quartered him. His hand and his head were placed upon the high tower of Prague, and his quarters distributed in different parts of the city.
Lord Viscount Winceslaus, who had attained the age of seventy years, was equally respectable for learning, piety, and hospitality. His temper was so remarkably patient that when his house was broken open, his property seized, and his estates confiscated, he only said, with great composure, "The Lord hath given, and the Lord hath taken away." Being asked why he could engage in so dangerous a cause as that of attempting to support the elector Palatine Frederic against the power of the emperor, he replied, "I acted strictly according to the dictates of my conscience, and, to this day, deem him my king. I am now full of years, and wish to lay down life, that I may not be a witness of the further evils which are to attend my country. You have long thirsted for my blood, take it, for God will be my avenger." Then approaching the block, he stroked his long, grey beard, and said, "Venerable hairs, the greater honor now attends ye, a crown of martyrdom is your portion." Then laying down his head, it was severed from his body at one stroke, and placed upon a pole in a conspicuous part of the city.
Lord Harant was a man of good sense, great piety, and much experience gained by travel, as he had visited the principal places in Europe, Asia, and Africa. Hence he was free from national prejudices and had collected much knowledge.
The accusations against this nobleman, were, his being a Protestant, and having taken an oath of allegiance to Frederic, elector Palatine of the Rhine, as king of Bohemia. When he came upon the scaffold he said, "I have travelled through many countries, and traversed various barbarous nations, yet never found so much cruelty as at home. I have escaped innumerable perils both by sea and land, and surmounted inconceivable difficulties, to suffer innocently in my native place. My blood is likewise sought by those for whom I, and my forefathers, have hazarded our estates; but, Almighty God! forgive them, for they know not what they do." He then went to the block, kneeled down, and exclaimed with great energy, "Into Thy hands, O Lord! I commend my spirit; in Thee have I always trusted; receive me, therefore, my blessed Redeemer." The fatal stroke was then given, and a period put to the temporary pains of this life.
Lord Frederic de Bile suffered as a Protestant, and a promoter of the late war; he met his fate with serenity, and only said he wished well to the friends whom he left behind, forgave the enemies who caused his death, denied the authority of the emperor in that country, acknowledged Frederic to be the only true king of Bohemia, and hoped for salvation in the merits of his blessed Redeemer.
Lord Henry Otto, when he first came upon the scaffold, seemed greatly confounded, and said, with some asperity, as if addressing himself to the emperor, "Thou tyrant Ferdinand, your throne is established in blood; but if you will kill my body, and disperse my members, they shall still rise up in judgment against you." He then was silent, and having walked about for some time, seemed to recover his fortitude, and growing calm, said to a gentleman who stood near, "I was, a few minutes since, greatly discomposed, but now I feel my spirits revive; God be praised for affording me such comfort; death no longer appears as the king of terrors, but seems to invite me to participate of some unknown joys." Kneeling before the block, he said, "Almighty God! to Thee I commend my soul, receive it for the sake of Christ, and admit it to the glory of Thy presence." The executioner put this nobleman to considerable pain, by making several strokes before he severed the head from the body.
The earl of Rugenia was distinguished for his superior abilities, and unaffected piety. On the scaffold he said, "We who drew our swords fought only to preserve the liberties of the people, and to keep our consciences sacred: as we were overcome, I am better pleased at the sentence of death, than if the emperor had given me life; for I find that it pleases God to have his truth defended, not by our swords, but by our blood." He then went boldly to the block, saying, "I shall now be speedily with Christ," and received the crown of martyrdom with great courage.
Sir Gaspar Kaplitz was eighty-six years of age. When he came to the place of execution, he addressed the principal officer thus: "Behold a miserable ancient man, who hath often entreated God to take him out of this wicked world, but could not until now obtain his desire, for God reserved me until these years to be a spectacle to the world, and a sacrifice to himself; therefore God's will be done." One of the officers told him, in consideration of his great age, that if he would only ask pardon, he would immediately receive it. "Ask pardon, (exclaimed he) I will ask pardon of God, whom I have frequently offended; but not of the emperor, to whom I never gave any offence; should I sue for pardon, it might be justly suspected I had committed some crime for which I deserved this condemnation. No, no, as I die innocent, and with a clear conscience, I would not be separated from this noble company of martyrs:" so saying, he cheerfully resigned his neck to the block.
Procopius Dorzecki on the scaffold said, "We are now under the emperor's judgment; but in time he shall be judged, and we shall appear as witnesses against him." Then taking a gold medal from his neck, which was struck when the elector Frederic was crowned king of Bohemia, he presented it to one of the officers, at the same time uttering these words, "As a dying man, I request, if ever King Frederic is restored to the throne of Bohemia, that you will give him this medal. Tell him, for his sake, I wore it until death, and that now I willingly lay down my life for God and my king." He then cheerfully laid down his head and submitted to the fatal blow.
Dionysius Servius was brought up a Roman Catholic, but had embraced the reformed religion for some years. When upon the scaffold the Jesuits used their utmost endeavors to make him recant, and return to his former faith, but he paid not the least attention to their exhortations. Kneeling down he said, "They may destroy my body, but cannot injure my soul, that I commend to my Redeemer"; and then patiently submitted to martyrdom, being at that time fifty-six years of age.
Valentine Cockan, was a person of considerable fortune and eminence, perfectly pious and honest, but of trifling abilities; yet his imagination seemed to grow bright, and his faculties to improve on death's approach, as if the impending danger refined the understanding. Just before he was beheaded, he expressed himself with such eloquence, energy, and precision as greatly amazed those who knew his former deficiency in point of capacity.
Tobias Steffick was remarkable for his affability and serenity of temper.
He was perfectly resigned to his fate, and a few minutes before his death spoke in this singular manner, "I have received, during the whole course of my life, many favors from God; ought I not therefore cheerfully to take one bitter cup, when He thinks proper to present it? Or rather, ought I not to rejoice that it is his will I should give up a corrupted life for that of immortality!"
Dr. Jessenius, an able student of physic, was accused of having spoken disrespectful words of the emperor, of treason in swearing allegiance to the elector Frederic, and of heresy in being a Protestant. For the first accusation he had his tongue cut out; for the second he was beheaded; and for the third, and last, he was quartered, and the respective parts exposed on poles.
Christopher Chober, as soon as he stepped upon the scaffold said, "I come in the name of God, to die for His glory; I have fought the good fight, and finished my course; so, executioner, do your office." The executioner obeyed, and he instantly received the crown of martyrdom.
No person ever lived more respected or died more lamented than John Shultis. The only words he spoke, before receiving the fatal stroke, were, "The righteous seem to die in the eyes of fools, but they only go to rest. Lord Jesus! Thou hast promised that those who come to Thee shall not be cast off. Behold, I am come; look on me, pity me, pardon my sins, and receive my soul."
Maximilian Hostialick was famed for his learning, piety, and humanity.
When he first came on the scaffold, he seemed exceedingly terrified at the approach of death. The officer taking notice of his agitation, Hostialick said, "Ah! sir, now the sins of my youth crowd upon my mind, but I hope God will enlighten me, lest I sleep the sleep of death and lest mine enemies say we have prevailed." Soon after he said, "I hope my repentance is sincere, and will be accepted, in which case the blood of Christ will wash me from my crimes." He then told the officer he should repeat the Song of Simeon; at the conclusion of which the executioner might do his duty. He accordingly, said, "Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, according to Thy word: For mine eyes have seen Thy salvation;" at which words his head was struck off at one blow.
When John Kutnaur came to the place of execution, a Jesuit said to him, "Embrace the Roman Catholic faith, which alone can save and arm you against the terrors of death." To which he replied, "Your superstitious faith I abhor, it leads to perdition, and I wish for no other arms against the terrors of death than a good conscience." The Jesuit turned away, saying, sarcastically, "The Protestants are impenetrable rocks." "You are mistaken," said Kutnaur, "it is Christ that is the Rock, and we are firmly fixed upon Him."
This person not being born independent, but having acquired a fortune by a mechanical employment, was ordered to be hanged. Just before he was turned off, he said, "I die, not for having committed any crime, but for following the dictates of my own conscience, and defending my country and religion."
Simeon Sussickey was father-in-law to Kutnaur, and like him, was ordered to be executed on a gallows. He went cheerfully to death, and appeared impatient to be executed, saying, "Every moment delays me from entering into the Kingdom of Christ."
Nathaniel Wodnianskey was hanged for having supported the Protestant cause, and the election of Frederic to the crown of Bohemia. At the gallows, the Jesuits did all in their power to induce him to renounce his faith. Finding their endeavors ineffectual, one of them said, "If you will not adjure your heresy, at least repent of your rebellion?" To which Wodnianskey replied, "You take away our lives under a pretended charge of rebellion; and, not content with that, seek to destroy our souls; glut yourselves with blood, and be satisfied; but tamper not with our consciences."
Wodnianskey's own son then approached the gallows, and said to his father, "Sir, if life should be offered to you on condition of apostasy, I entreat you to remember Christ, and reject such pernicious overtures." To this the father replied, "It is very acceptable, my son, to be exhorted to constancy by you; but suspect me not; rather endeavor to confirm in their faith your brothers, sisters, and children, and teach them to imitate that constancy of which I shall leave them an example." He had so sooner concluded these words than he was turned off, receiving the crown of martyrdom with great fortitude.
Winceslaus Gisbitzkey, during his whole confinement, had great hopes of life given him, which made his friends fear for the safety of his soul. He, however, continued steadfast in his faith, prayed fervently at the gallows, and met his fate with singular resignation.
Martin Foster was an ancient cripple; the accusations against whom were, being charitable to heretics, and lending money to the elector Frederic. His great wealth, however, seemed to have been his principal crime; and that he might be plundered of his treasures was the occasion of his being ranked in this illustrious list of martyrs.
From the number
condemned in this fanatical reign, it is almost impossible to obtain the name
of every martyr, or to embellish the history of all with anecdotes and
exemplifications of Christian conduct. Thanks be to Providence, our cruel task
begins to draw towards a conclusion, with the end of the reign of papal terror
and bloodshed. Monarchs, who sit upon thrones possessed by hereditary right,
should, of all others, consider that the laws of nature are the laws of God,
and hence that the first law of nature is the preservation of their subjects. Maxims
of persecutions, of torture, and of death, they should leave to those who have
effected sovereignty by fraud or by sword; but where, except among a few
miscreant emperors of Rome, and the Roman pontiffs, shall we find one whose
memory is so "damned to everlasting fame" as that of Queen Mary?
Nations bewail the hour which separates them forever from a beloved governor,
but, with respect to that of Mary, it was the most blessed time of her whole
reign. Heaven has ordained three great scourges for national sins-plague,
pestilence, and famine. It was the will of God in Mary's reign to bring a
fourth upon this kingdom, under the form of papistical persecution. It was
sharp, but glorious; the fire, which consumed the martyrs has undermined the
Popedom; and the Catholic states, at present the most bigoted and
unenlightened, are those which are sunk lowest in the scale of moral dignity
and political consequence. May they remain so, until the pure light of the
Gospel shall dissipate the darkness of fanaticism and superstition! But to
return.
Mrs. Prest for
some time lived about Cornwall, where she had a husband and children, whose
bigotry compelled her to frequent the abominations of the Church of Rome.
Resolving to act as her conscience dictated, she quitted them, and made a
living by spinning. After some time, returning home, she was accused by her
neighbors, and brought to Exeter, to be examined before Dr. Troubleville, and
his chancellor Blackston. As this martyr was accounted of inferior intellect,
we shall put her in competition with the bishop, and let the reader judge,
which had the most of that knowledge conducive to everlasting life.
The bishop bringing the question to issue,
respecting the bread and wine being flesh and blood, Mrs. Prest said, "I
will demand of you whether you can deny your creed, which says, that Christ
doth perpetually sit at the right hand of His Father, both body and soul, until
He come again; or whether He be there in heaven our Advocate, and to make
prayer for us unto God His Father? If He be so, He is not here on earth in a
piece of bread. If He were not here, and if He does not dwell in temples made
with hands, but in heaven, what shall we seek Him here? If He did not offer His
body once for all, why make you a new offering? If with one offering He made
all perfect, why do you with a false offering make all imperfect? If He be to
be worshipped in spirit and in truth, why do you worship a piece of bread? If
He were eaten and drunken in faith and truth, if His flesh be not profitable to
be among us, why do you say you make His flesh and blood, and say it is
profitable for body and soul? Alas! I am a poor woman, but rather than to do as
you do, I would live no longer. I have said, Sir." Bishop. I promise you,
you are a jolly Protestant. I pray you in what school have you been brought up?
Mrs. Prest: “I have upon the Sundays visited the sermons, and there have I
learned such things as are so fixed in my breast, that death shall not separate
them”.
B: “O foolish
woman, who will waste his breath upon thee, or such as thou art? But how
chanceth it that thou wentest away from thy husband? If thou wert an honest
woman, thou wouldst not have left thy husband and children, and run about the
country like a fugitive”
Mrs. Prest: “Sir, I labored for my living; and as my
Master Christ counseleth me, when I was persecuted in one city, I fled into
another”
B: “Who
persecuted thee?”
Mrs. P: “My
husband and my children. For when I would have them to leave idolatry, and to worship
God in heaven, he would not hear me, but he with his children rebuked me, and
troubled me. I fled not for whoredom, nor for theft, but because I would be no
partaker with him and his of that foul idol the Mass; and wherever I was, as
oft as I could, upon Sundays and holydays. I made excuses not to go to the
popish Church.
B: “Belike then
you are a good housewife, to fly from your husband the Church”
Mrs. P: “My
housewifery is but small; but God gave me grace to go to the true Church”
B: “The true
Church, what dost thou mean?”
Mrs. P: “Not
your popish Church, full of idols and abominations, but where two or three are
gathered together in the name of God, to that Church will I go as long as I
live”
B: “Belike then
you have a church of your own. Well, let this mad woman be put down to prison
until we send for her husband”
Mrs. P: “No, I
have but one husband, who is here already in this city, and in prison with me,
from whom I will never depart”
Some persons
present endeavoring to convince the bishop she was not in her right senses, she
was permitted to depart. The keeper of the bishop's prisons took her into his
house, where she either spun worked as a servant, or walked about the city,
discoursing upon the Sacrament of the altar. Her husband was sent for to take
her home, but this she refused while the cause of religion could be served. She
was too active to be idle, and her conversation, simple as they affected to
think her, excited the attention of several Catholic priests and friars. They
teased her with questions, until she answered them angrily, and this excited a
laugh at her warmth.
"Nay,"
said she, "you have more need to weep than to laugh, and to be sorry that
ever you were born, to be the chaplains of that whore of Babylon. I defy him
and all his falsehood; and get you away from me, you do but trouble my
conscience. You would have me follow your doings; I will first lose my life. I
pray you depart."
"Why, thou
foolish woman," said they, "we come to thee for thy profit and soul's
health." To which she replied, "What profit ariseth by you, that
teach nothing but lies for truth? how save you souls, when you preach nothing
but lies, and destroy souls?"
"How
provest thou that?" said they.
"Do you not
destroy your souls, when you teach the people to worship idols, stocks, and
stones, the works of men's hands? And to worship a false God of your own making
of a piece of bread, and teach that the pope is God's vicar, and hath power to
forgive sins? And that there is a purgatory, when God's Son hath by His passion
purged all? And say you make God and sacrifice Him, when Christ's body was a
sacrifice once for all? Do you not teach the people to number their sins in
your ears, and say they will be damned if they confess not all; when God's Word
saith, Who can number his sins? Do you not promise them trentals and dirges and
Masses for souls, and sell your prayers for money, and make them buy pardons,
and trust to such foolish inventions of your imaginations? Do you not
altogether act against God? Do you not teach us to pray upon beads, and to pray
unto saints, and say they can pray for us? Do you not make holy water and holy
bread to fray devils? Do you not do a thousand more abominations? And yet you say,
you come for my profit, and to save my soul. No, no, one hath saved me.
Farewell, you with your salvation."
During the
liberty granted her by the bishop, before-mentioned, she went into St. Peter's
Church, and there found a skilful Dutchman, who was affixing new noses to
certain fine images which had been disfigured in King Edward's time; to whom
she said, "What a madman art thou, to make them new noses, which within a
few days shall all lose their heads?" The Dutchman accused her and laid it
hard to her charge. And she said unto him, "Thou art accursed, and so are
thy images." He called her a whore. "Nay," said she, "thy
images are whores, and thou art a whore-hunter; for doth not God say, 'You go a
whoring after strange gods, figures of your own making? And thou art one of
them.'" After this she was ordered to be confined, and had no more
liberty.
During the time
of her imprisonment, many visited her, some sent by the bishop, and some of
their own will, among these was one Daniel, a great preacher of the Gospel, in
the days of King Edward, about Cornwall and Devonshire, but who, through the
grievous persecution he had sustained, had fallen off. Earnestly did she exhort
him to repent with Peter, and to be more constant in his profession.
Mrs. Walter
Rauley and Mr. William and John Kede, persons of great respectability, bore
ample testimony of her godly conversation, declaring, that unless God were with
her, it were impossible she could have so ably defended the cause of Christ.
Indeed, to sum up the character of this poor woman, she united the serpent and
the dove, abounding in the highest wisdom joined to the greatest simplicity.
She endured imprisonment, threats, taunts, and the vilest epithets, but nothing
could induce her to swerve; her heart was fixed; she had cast anchor; nor could
all the wounds of persecution remove her from the rock on which her hopes of
felicity were built.
Such was her
memory, that, without learning, she could tell in what chapter any text of
Scripture was contained: on account of this singular property, one Gregory
Basset, a rank papist, said she was deranged, and talked as a parrot, wild
without meaning. At length, having tried every manner without effect to make
her nominally a Catholic, they condemned her. After this, one exhorted her to
leave her opinions, and go home to her family, as she was poor and illiterate.
"True, (said she) though I am not learned, I am content to be a witness of
Christ's death, and I pray you make no longer delay with me; for my heart is
fixed, and I will never say otherwise, nor turn to your superstitious
doing."
To the disgrace
of Mr. Blackston, treasurer of the church, he would often send for this poor
martyr from prison, to make sport for him and a woman whom he kept; putting religious
questions to her, and turning her answers into ridicule. This done, he sent her
back to her wretched dungeon, while he battened upon the good things of this
world.
There was
perhaps something simply ludicrous in the form of Mrs. Prest, as she was of a
very short stature, thick set, and about fifty-four years of age; but her
countenance was cheerful and lively, as if prepared for the day of her marriage
with the Lamb. To mock at her form was an indirect accusation of her Creator,
who framed her after the fashion He liked best, and gave her a mind that far
excelled the transient endowments of perishable flesh. When she was offered
money, she rejected it, "because (said she) I am going to a city where
money bears no mastery, and while I am here God has promised to feed me."
When sentence
was read, condemning her to the flames, she lifted up her voice and praised
God, adding, "This day have I found that which I have long sought."
When they tempted her to recant, "That will I not, (said she) God forbid
that I should lose the life eternal, for this carnal and short life. I will
never turn from my heavenly husband to my earthly husband; from the fellowship
of angels to mortal children; and if my husband and children be faithful, then
am I theirs. God is my father, God is my mother, God is my sister, my brother,
my kinsman; God is my friend, most faithful."
Being delivered
to the sheriff, she was led by the officer to the place of execution, without
the walls of Exeter, called Sothenhey, where again the superstitious priests
assaulted her. While they were tying her to the stake, she continued earnestly
to exclaim "God be merciful to me, a sinner!" Patiently enduring the
devouring conflagration, she was consumed to ashes, and thus ended a life,
which in unshaken fidelity to the cause of Christ, was not surpassed by that of
any preceding martyr.
With pleasure we
have to record that these five martyrs were the last who suffered in the reign
of Mary for the sake of the Protestant cause; but the malice of the papists was
conspicuous in hastening their martyrdom, which might have been delayed until
the event of the queen's illness was decided. It is reported that the
archdeacon of Canterbury, judging that the sudden death of the queen would
suspend the execution, traveled post from London, to have the satisfaction of
adding another page to the black list of papistical sacrifices.
The articles
against them were, as usual, the Sacramental elements and the idolatry of
bending to images. They quoted St. John's words, "Beware of images!"
and respecting the real presence, they urged according to St. Paul, "the
things which are seen are temporal." When sentence was about to be read
against them, and excommunication to take place in the regular form, John
Corneford, illuminated by the Holy Spirit, awfully turned the latter proceeding
against themselves, and in a solemn impressive manner, recriminated their
excommunication in the following words: "In the name of our Lord Jesus
Christ, the Son of the most mighty God, and by the power of His Holy Spirit,
and the authority of His holy Catholic and apostolic Church, we do here give
into the hands of Satan to be destroyed, the bodies of all those blasphemers
and heretics that maintain any error against His most holy Word, or do condemn
His most holy truth for heresy, to the maintenance of any false church or
foreign religion, so that by this Thy just judgment, O most mighty God, against
Thy adversaries, Thy true religion may be known to Thy great glory and our
comfort and to the edifying of all our nation. Good Lord, so be it. Amen."
This sentence
was openly pronounced and registered, and, as if Providence had awarded that it
should not be delivered in vain, within six days after, Queen Mary died,
detested by all good men and accursed of God!
Though
acquainted with these circumstances, the archdeacon's implacability exceeded
that of his great exemplary, Bonner, who, though he had several persons at that
time under his fiery grasp, did not urge their deaths hastily, by which delay
he certainly afforded them an opportunity of escape. At the queen's decease,
many were in bonds: some just taken, some examined, and others condemned. The
writs indeed were issued for several burnings, but by the death of the three
instigators of Protestant murder-the chancellor, the bishop, and the queen, who
fell nearly together, the condemned sheep were liberated, and lived many years
to praise God for their happy deliverance.
These five
martyrs, when at the stake, earnestly prayed that their blood might be the last
shed, nor did they pray in vain. They died gloriously, and perfected the number
God had selected to bear witness of the truth in this dreadful reign, whose
names are recorded in the Book of Life; though last, not least among the saints
made meet for immortality through the redeeming blood of the Lamb!
Catharine
Finlay, alias Knight, was first converted by her son's expounding the
Scriptures to her, which wrought in her a perfect work that terminated in
martyrdom. Alice Snoth at the stake sent for her grandmother and godfather, and
rehearsed to them the articles of her faith, and the Commandments of God,
thereby convincing the world that she knew her duty. She died calling upon the
spectators to bear witness that she was a Christian woman, and suffered
joyfully for the testimony of Christ's Gospel.
Among the
numberless enormities committed by the merciless and unfeeling Bonner, the
murder of this innocent and unoffending child may be ranged as the most horrid.
His father, John Fetty, of the parish of Clerkenwell, by trade a tailor, and
only twenty-four years of age, had made blessed election; he was fixed secure in
eternal hope, and depended on Him who so builds His Church that the gates of
hell shall not prevail against it. But Alas! The very wife of his bosom, whose
heart was hardened against the truth, and whose mind was influenced by the
teachers of false doctrine, became his accuser.
Brokenbery, a creature of the pope, and
parson of the parish, received the information of this wedded Delilah, in
consequence of which the poor man was apprehended. But here the awful judgment
of an ever-righteous God, who is "of purer eyes than to behold evil,"
fell upon this stone-hearted and perfidious woman; for no sooner was the
injured husband captured by her wicked contriving, than she also was suddenly
seized with madness, and exhibited an awful and awakening instance of God's
power to punish the evil-doer. This dreadful circumstance had some effect upon
the hearts of the ungodly hunters who had eagerly grasped their prey; but, in a
relenting moment, they suffered him to remain with his unworthy wife, to return
her good for evil, and to comfort two children, who, on his being sent to
prison, would have been left without a protector, or have become a burden to
the parish. As bad men act from little motives, we may place the indulgence
shown him to the latter account.
We have noticed
in the former part of our narratives of the martyrs, some whose affection would
have led them even to sacrifice their own lives, to preserve their husbands;
but here, agreeable to Scripture language, a mother proves, indeed, a monster
in nature! Neither conjugal nor maternal affection could impress the heart of
this disgraceful woman.
Although our
afflicted Christian had experienced so much cruelty and falsehood from the
woman who was bound to him by every tie both human and divine, yet, with a mild
and forbearing spirit, he overlooked her misdeeds, during her calamity
endeavoring all he could to procure relief for her malady, and soothing her by
every possible expression of tenderness: thus she became in a few weeks nearly
restored to her senses. But, alas! she returned again to her sin, "as a
dog returneth to his vomit." Malice against the saints of the Most High
was seated in her heart too firmly to be removed; and as her strength returned,
her inclination to work wickedness returned with it.
Her heart was hardened by the prince of
darkness; and to her may be applied these afflicting and soul-harrowing words,
"Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots? then may ye
also do good, that are accustomed to do evil." Weighing this text duly
with another, "I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy," how
shall we presume to refine away the sovereignty of God by arraigning Jehovah at
the bar of human reason, which, in religious matters, is too often opposed by
infinite wisdom? "Broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many
there be which go in thereat. Narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and
few there be that find it." The ways of heaven are indeed inscrutable, and
it is our bounden duty to walk ever dependent on God, looking up to Him with
humble confidence, and hope in His goodness, and ever confess His justice; and
where we "cannot unravel, there learn to trust." This wretched woman,
pursuing the horrid dictates of a heart hardened and depraved, was scarcely confirmed
in her recovery, when, stifling the dictates of honor, gratitude, and every
natural affection, she again accused her husband, who was once more
apprehended, and taken before Sir John Mordant, knight, and one of Queen Mary's
commissioners.
Upon examination,
his judge finding him fixed in opinions which militated against those nursed by
superstition and maintained by cruelty, he was sentenced to confinement and
torture in Lollard's Tower. Here he was put into the painful stocks, and had a
dish of water set by him, with a stone put into it, to what purpose God
knoweth, except it were to show that he should look for little other
subsistence: which is credible enough, if we consider their like practices upon
divers before mentioned in this history; as, among others, upon Richard Smith,
who died through their cruel imprisonment touching whom, when a godly woman
came to Dr. Story to have leave she might bury him, he asked her if he had any
straw or blood in his mouth; but what he means thereby, I leave to the judgment
of the wise.
On the first day
of the third week of our martyr's sufferings, an object presented itself to his
view, which made him indeed feel his tortures with all their force, and to
execrate, with bitterness only short of cursing, the author of his misery. To
mark and punish the proceedings of his tormentors, remained with the Most High,
who noteth even the fall of a sparrow, and in whose sacred Word it is written,
"Vengeance is mine; I will repay." This object was his own son, a
child of the tender age of eight years. For fifteen days, had its hapless
father been suspended by his tormentor by the right arm and left leg, and
sometimes by both, shifting his positions for the purpose of giving him
strength to bear and to lengthen the date of his sufferings. When the
unoffending innocent, desirous of seeing and speaking to its parent, applied to
Bonner for permission to do so, the poor child being asked by the bishop's
chaplain the purport of his errand, he replied he wished to see his father.
"Who is thy father?" said the chaplain. "John Fetty,"
returned the boy, at the same time pointing to the place where he was confined.
The interrogating miscreant on this said, "Why, thy father is a
heretic!" The little champion again rejoined, with energy sufficient to
raise admiration in any breast, except that of this unprincipled and unfeeling
wretch-this miscreant, eager to execute the behests of a remorseless
queen-"My father is no heretic: for you have Balaam's mark."
Irritated by
reproach so aptly applied, the indignant and mortified priest concealed his
resentment for a moment, and took the undaunted boy into the house, where
having him secure, he presented him to others, whose baseness and cruelty being
equal to his own, they stripped him to the skin, and applied their scourges to
so violent a degree, that, fainting beneath the stripes inflicted on his tender
frame, and covered with the blood that flowed from them, the victim of their
ungodly wrath was ready to expire under his heavy and unmerited punishment.
In this bleeding
and helpless state was the suffering infant, covered only with his shirt, taken
to his father by one of the actors in the horrid tragedy, who, while he exhibited
the heart-rending spectacle, made use of the vilest taunts, and exulted in what
he had done. The dutiful child, as if recovering strength at the sight of his
father, on his knees implored his blessing. "Alas! Will," said the
afflicted parent, in trembling amazement, "who hath done this to
thee!" The artless innocent related the circumstances that led to the
merciless correction which had been so basely inflicted on him; but when he
repeated the reproof bestowed on the chaplain, and which was prompted by an
undaunted spirit, he was torn from his weeping parent, and conveyed again to
the house, where he remained a close prisoner.
Bonner, somewhat
fearful that what had been done could not be justified even among the
bloodhounds of his own voracious pack, concluded in his dark and wicked mind,
to release John Fetty, for a time at least, from the severities he was enduring
in the glorious cause of everlasting truth! whose bright rewards are fixed
beyond the boundaries of time, within the confines of eternity; where the arrow
of the wicked cannot wound, even "where there shall be no more sorrowing
for the blessed, who, in the mansion of eternal bliss shall glorify the Lamb
forever and ever." He was accordingly by order of Bonner, (how disgraceful
to all dignity, to say bishop!) liberated from the painful bonds, and led from
Lollard's Tower, to the chamber of that ungodly and infamous butcher, where he
found the bishop bathing himself before a great fire; and at his first entering
the chamber, Fetty said, "God be here and peace!" "God be here
and peace, (said Bonner,) that is neither God speed nor good morrow!"
"If ye kick against this peace, (said Fetty), then this is not the place
that I seek for."
A chaplain of
the bishop, standing by, turned the poor man about, and thinking to abash him,
said, in mocking wise, "What have we here-a player!" While Fetty was
thus standing in the bishop's chamber, he espied, hanging about the bishop's
bed, a pair of great black beads, whereupon he said, "My Lord, I think the
hangman is not far off: for the halter (pointing to the beads) is here
already!" At which words the bishop was in a marvelous rage. Then he
immediately after espied also, standing in the bishop's chamber, in the window,
a little crucifix. Then he asked the bishop what it was, and he answered, that
it was Christ. "Was He handled as cruelly as He is here pictured!"
said Fetty. "Yea, that He was," said the bishop. "And even so
cruelly will you handle such as come before you; for you are unto God's people as
Caiaphas was unto Christ!" The bishop, being in a great fury, said,
"Thou art a vile heretic, and I will burn thee, or else I will spend all I
have, unto my gown." "Nay, my Lord, (said Fetty) you were better to
give it to some poor body, that he may pray for you." Bonner,
notwithstanding his passion, which was raised to the utmost by the calm and
pointed remarks of this observing Christian, thought it most prudent to dismiss
the father, on account of the nearly murdered child. His coward soul trembled
for the consequences which might ensue; fear is inseparable from little minds;
and this dastardly pampered priest experienced its effects so far as to induce
him to assume the appearance of that he was an utter stranger to, namely,
MERCY.
The father, on being
dismissed, by the tyrant Bonner, went home with a heavy heart, with his dying
child, who did not survive many days the cruelties which had been inflicted on
him.
How contrary to
the will of our great King and Prophet, who mildly taught His followers, was
the conduct of this sanguinary and false teacher, this vile apostate from his
God to Satan! But the archfiend had taken entire possession of his heart, and
guided every action of the sinner he had hardened; who, given up to terrible
destruction, was running the race of the wicked, marking his footsteps with the
blood of the saints, as if eager to arrive at the goal of eternal death.
After that
arch-persecutor, Gardiner, was dead, others followed, of whom Dr. Morgan,
bishop of St. David's, who succeeded Bishop Farrar, is to be noticed. Not long
after he was installed in his bishopric, he was stricken by the visitation of
God; his food passed through the throat, but rose again with great violence. In
this manner, almost literally starved to death, he terminated his existence.
Bishop Thornton,
suffragan of Dover, was an indefatigable persecutor of the true Church. One day
after he had exercised his cruel tyranny upon a number of pious persons at
Canterbury, he came from the chapter-house to Borne, where as he stood on a
Sunday looking at his men playing at bowls, he fell down in a fit of the palsy,
and did not long survive.
After the
latter, succeeded another bishop or suffragen, ordained by Gardiner, who not
long after he had been raised to the see of Dover, fell down a pair of stairs
in the cardinal's chamber at Greenwich, and broke his neck. He had just
received the cardinal's blessing-he could receive nothing worse.
John Cooper, of
Watsam, Suffolk, suffered by perjury; he was from private pique persecuted by
one Fenning, who suborned two others to swear that they heard Cooper say, 'If
God did not take away Queen Mary, the devil would.' Cooper denied all such
words, but Cooper was a Protestant and a heretic, and therefore he was hung,
drawn and quartered, his property confiscated, and his wife and nine children
reduced to beggary. The following harvest, however, Grimwood of Hitcham, one of
the witnesses before mentioned, was visited for his villainy: while at work,
stacking up corn, his bowels suddenly burst out, and before relief could be
obtained, her died. Thus was deliberate perjury rewarded by sudden death!
In the case of
the martyr Mr. Bradford, the severity of Mr. Sheriff Woodroffe has been
noticed. He rejoiced at the death of the saints, and at Mr. Rogers' execution,
he broke the carman's head, because he stopped the cart to let the martyr's
children take a last farewell of him. Scarcely had Mr. Woodroffe's sheriffalty
expired a week, when he was struck with a paralytic affection, and languished a
few days in the most pitiable and helpless condition, presenting a striking
contrast to his former activity in the cause of blood.
Ralph Lardyn,
who betrayed the martyr George Eagles, is believed to have been afterward
arraigned and hanged in consequence of accusing himself. At the bar, he
denounced himself in these words: "This has most justly fallen upon me,
for betraying the innocent blood of that just and good man George Eagles, who
was here condemned in the time of Queen Mary by my procurement, when I sold his
blood for a little money."
As James Abbes
was going to execution, and exhorting the pitying bystanders to adhere
steadfastly to the truth, and like him to seal the cause of Christ with their
blood, a servant of the sheriff's interrupted him, and blasphemously called his
religion heresy, and the good man a lunatic. Scarcely however had the flames
reached the martyr, before the fearful stroke of God fell upon the hardened
wretch, in the presence of him he had so cruelly ridiculed. The man was
suddenly seized with lunacy, cast off his clothes and shoes before the people,
(as Abbes had done just before, to distribute among some poor persons,) at the
same time exclaiming, "Thus did James Abbes, the true servant of God, who
is saved by I am damned." Repeating this often, the sheriff had him
secured, and made him put his clothes on, but no sooner was he alone, than he
tore them off, and exclaimed as before. Being tied in a cart, he was conveyed
to his master's house, and in about half a year he died; just before which a
priest came to attend him, with the crucifix, etc., but the wretched man bade
him take away such trumpery, and said that he and other priests had been the
cause of his damnation, but that Abbes was saved.
One Clark, an
avowed enemy of the Protestants in King Edward's reign, hung himself in the
Tower of London.
Froling, a
priest of much celebrity, fell down in the street and died on the spot.
Dale, an
indefatigable informer, was consumed by vermin, and died a miserable spectacle.
Alexander, the
severe keeper of Newgate, died miserably, swelling to a prodigious size, and
became so inwardly putrid, that none could come near him. This cruel minister
of the law would go to Bonner, Story, and others, requesting them to rid his
prison, he was so much pestered with heretics! The son of this keeper, in three
years after his father's death, dissipated his great property, and died
suddenly in Newgate market. "The sins of the father," says the
decalogue, "shall be visited on the children." John Peter, son-in-law
of Alexander, a horrid blasphemer and persecutor, died wretchedly. When he
affirmed anything, he would say, "If it be not true, I pray I may rot ere
I die." This awful state visited him in all its loathsomeness.
Sir Ralph
Ellerker was eagerly desirous to see the heart taken out of Adam Damlip, who
was wrongfully put to death. Shortly after Sir Ralph was slain by the French,
who mangled him dreadfully, cut off his limbs, and tore his heart out.
When Gardiner
heard of the miserable end of Judge Hales, he called the profession of the
Gospel a doctrine of desperation; but he forgot that the judge's despondency
arose after he had consented to the papistry. But with more reason may this be
said of the Catholic tenets, if we consider the miserable end of Dr. Pendleton,
Gardiner, and most of the leading persecutors. Gardiner, upon his death bed, was
reminded by a bishop of Peter denying his master, "Ah," said
Gardiner, "I have denied with Peter, but never repented with Peter."
After the
accession of Elizabeth, most of the Catholic prelates were imprisoned in the
Tower or the Fleet; Bonner was put into the Marshalsea.
Of the revilers
of God's Word, we detail, among many others, the following occurrence. One
William Maldon, living at Greenwich in servitude, was instructing himself
profitably in reading an English primer one winter's evening. A serving man,
named John Powell, sat by, and ridiculed all that Maldon said, who cautioned
him not to make a jest of the Word of God. Powell nevertheless continued, until
Maldon came to certain English Prayers, and read aloud, "Lord, have mercy
upon us, Christ have mercy upon us," etc. Suddenly the reviler started,
and exclaimed, "Lord, have mercy upon us!" He was struck with the
utmost terror of mind, said the evil spirit could not abide that Christ should
have any mercy upon him, and sunk into madness. He was remitted to Bedlam, and
became an awful warning that God will not always be insulted with impunity.
Henry Smith, a
student in the law, had a pious Protestant father, of Camben, in Gloucestershire,
by whom he was virtuously educated. While studying law in the middle temple, he
was induced to profess Catholicism, and, going to Louvain, in France, he
returned with pardons, crucifixes, and a great freight of popish toys. Not
content with these things, he openly reviled the Gospel religion he had been
brought up in; but conscience one night reproached him so dreadfully, that in a
fit of despair he hung himself in his garters. He was buried in a lane, without
the Christian service being read over him.
Dr. Story, whose
name has been so often mentioned in the preceding pages, was reserved to be cut
off by public execution, a practice in which he had taken great delight when in
power. He is supposed to have had a hand in most of the conflagrations in
Mary's time, and was even ingenious in his invention of new modes of inflicting
torture. When Elizabeth came to the throne, he was committed to prison, but
unaccountably effected his escape to the continent, to carry fire and sword
there among the Protestant brethren. From the duke of Alva, at Antwerp, he
received a special commission to search all ships for contraband goods, and
particularly for English heretical books.
Dr. Story
gloried in a commission that was ordered by Providence to be his ruin, and to
preserve the faithful from his sanguinary cruelty. It was contrived that one
Parker, a merchant, should sail to Antwerp and information should be given to
Dr. Story that he had a quantity of heretical books on board. The latter no
sooner heard this, than he hastened to the vessel, sought everywhere above, and
then went under the hatches, which were fastened down upon him. A prosperous
gale brought the ship to England, and this traitorous, persecuting rebel was
committed to prison, where he remained a considerable time, obstinately
objecting to recant his Anti-Christian spirit, or admit of Queen Elizabeth's
supremacy. He alleged, though by birth and education an Englishman, that he was
a sworn subject of the king of Spain, in whose service the famous duke of Alva
was. The doctor being condemned, was laid upon a hurdle, and drawn from the
Tower to Tyburn, where after being suspended about half an hour, he was cut
down, stripped, and the executioner displayed the heart of a traitor.
Thus ended the
existence of this Nimrod of England.