Showing posts with label gunpowder plot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gunpowder plot. Show all posts

Friday, 7 November 2014

The Life Of Fr John Gerard S.J. (A Hunted Priest) Part 40.

THE GUNPOWDER PLOT.
Here the autobiography of Father Gerard ends. He survived his escape from England thirty-one years, but before we proceed to examine such materials as remain to us for tracing his life during that time, we must give insertion to some notes from various sources on the concluding portion of the story he has told us, which narrative we have purposely left uninterrupted, as far as possible. And first respecting the Gunpowder Plot.

As well in his autobiography, as in the Narrative of the Powder Plot written by him, Father Gerard makes mention of three letters sent by him to three Lords of the Privy Council. Who one of these Lords was we do not know, but we take from the Record Office 1 the letter addressed to the Duke of Lenox, enclosing letters to the Earl of Salisbury and Sir Everard Digby.

" Right Honourable,—Seeing all laws, both divine and human, do license the innocent to plead for himself, and the same laws do strictly require and highly commend an open ear in any of authority to give audience and equal trial to a plaintiff in such a case, my hope is that your Grace will excuse this my boldness in offering up by your hands my humble. petition for trial of my innocence touching the late most impious treason, whereof I am wrongfully accused, by some lost companions, I assure me, who, to save themselves from deserved punishment, will not stick to accuse any innocent of any crime wherein their bare word may pass for proof. There is none so innocent but may be wrongfully accused, sith innocency itself in our Lord and Master was accused and condemned as an enemy to the State and no friend to Caesar. The servant must not look to be more free from wrongs than his Master was. But happy is that man by whom the truth is tried in judgment and innocency cleared.

" I durst not presume, being branded with the odious name of traitor, to offer my petition to my Sovereign (to whom, as God is witness, I wish long life and all happiness as to my own soul). But if by your Grace's means (of whose piety and worthy disposition I have heard so much good) the humble suit of a distressed suppliant (prostrate . at his Majesty's feet) may be offered up, I hope it shall be found not unfit for your Grace to offer, and most fit and reasonable for so wise and righteous a Prince to grant.

"My humble petition is only this. That, whereas I have protested before God and the world, I was not privy to that horrible Plot of destroying the King's Majesty and his posterity, &c, by powder (wherewith I am now so publicly taxed in the proclamation), that full trial may be made, whether I be guilty therein or not. And if so it be proved, that then all shame and pain may light upon me ; but if the truth appear on the contrary side, that then I may be cleared from this so grievous an infamation and punishment not deserved. Two kinds of proofs may be made in this cause, which I humbly beseech your Grace, for God's cause, may be performed. One is, that all the principal conspirators (with whom I am said to have practised the foresaid Plot of Powder against the Parliament House) may be asked at their death, -as they will answer at the dreadful tribunal unto which they are going, whether ever they did impart the matter to me, or I practise the same with them in the least degree, or whether they can but say of their knowledge that I did know of it. And I know it will then appear that no one of them will accuse me, if it be not apparent they do it in hope of life, but do give signs that they die in the fear of God and hope of their salvation.

" And as by this trial it will appear (in this time most fit for saying truth) that there is not sufficient witness against me, so I humbly desire also trial may be made by examining a witness, who can, if he will, fully clear me, and I hope he will not deny me that right, especially being 2 ... the place of right and justice himself. Sir Everard Digby can testify for me, how ignorant I was of any such matter but two days before that unnatural parricide should have been practised. I have, for full trial thereof, enclosed a letter unto him, which I humbly beseech may be delivered before your Grace and the other two lords, whose favour and equity I have likewise humbly entreated by these letters unto them. All which I am bold to direct unto your Grace's hands, presuming upon your gracious furtherance, not having other means, in this my distressed case, to have them severally delivered. God of His goodness will reward, I hope, in full measure, this your Grace's favour and pity showed to an innocent wrongly accused, who would rather suffer any death than not to be found ever faithful to God and his Sovereign.

 "John Gerard.

"This 23rd of January."

Addressed— "To the Right Honourable the Duke of Lenox, these deliver."

Endorsed in Cecil's hand—" Gerard the Jesuit to the Duke of Lenox."

" Right Honourable,—Although I can expect no other from one in your place, but that you should permit the course of justice to proceed against any that are proved guilty of treason to his Majesty and the State, especially in so foul and unnatural a treason as was lately discovered,  yet I cannot but hope where there is so much wisdom, and so vigilant a care for the preservation of this State, your lordship will also be pleased to hear, and forward to make trial, who may be wrongfully accused, knowing right well that it is as necessary in any Government to protect the innocent as to punish the offenders.

"What proof there is of my accusation I know not, and therefore cannot answer it. But this I know : that none can truly produce the least proof that ever I was made privy to that treason of which I am accused, and much less a practiser with the principal conspirators in the same, as I am denounced to be. Therefore, sith I know not my accusers, God I hope will be judge between them and me, to Whom I refer my cause, and in Whom my trust is, and ever shall be, that He will right me.

" In the meantime my humble request is, that your lordship, who have been so often seen to be pitiful towards any in distress, and a potent helper to those who were oppressed (a special ornament in so eminent a person, and much commended and rewarded by God Himself), will show your accustomed commiseration in my case, and afford me therein such audience as may be sufficient to make trial of my innocency. Wherein your lordship shall imitate the just proceeding of the highest Lord, from Whom both yourself, and all that govern, have all your power. For God Himself, although He know all things before He call us to account, yet, to give us the form of just proceeding, is said in Holy Scripture to be ever careful in hearing what the accused can say for himself before He proceeds to give sentence. So we read that God said to Abraham, ' Clamor Sodomorum, &c, multiplicatus est, &c, descendant et videbo utrum clamorem qui venit ad me opere compleverint> an non est ita, tit sciam! So again in the Gospel when He heard a complaint against His steward, He would not proceed against him without full audience, but called him and said, ' Quid hcec audio de te ? redde rationem villicationis tace! These most high and worthy examples I trust your lordship will follow in my case, as you have been known to do with others. And then I doubt not but that shall appear true which I have most sincerely protested before God and the world.

" My humble petition therefore is, that a witness may be asked his knowledge who is well able to clear me if he will, and I hope he will not be so unjust in this time of his own danger as to conceal so needful a proof being so demanded of him. Sir Everard Digby doth well know how far I was from knowledge of any such matter but two days before the treason was known to all men. I have therefore written a letter unto him, to require his testimony of that which passed between him and me at that time. Wherein, if I may have your lordship's furtherance to have just trial made of the truth whilst yet he liveth, I shall ever esteem myself most deeply bound to pray for your lordship's happiness both in this world and in the next. In which hope I will rest, your lordship's prone and humble suppliant, never to be proved false to King and country,

"John Gerard. 
" This 23rd of January."

Addressed— "To the Right Honourable the Earl of Salisbury, Principal Secretary to his Majesty, these."

Endorsed in Cecil's hand—" Gerard the Jesuit to my son."

"Sir Everard Digby,—I presume so much of your sincerity both to God and man, that I cannot fear you will be loth to utter your knowledge for the clearing of one that is innocent from a most unjust accusation, importing both loss of life to him that is accused, and of his good name also, which he much more esteemeth.

" So it is that upon some false information (given, as I suppose, by some base fellows, desirous to save their lives by the loss of their honesty) there is come forth a proclamation against my Superior, and one other of the Society, and myself, as against three notorious practisers with divers of the principal conspirators in this late most odious treason of destroying the King's Majesty and all in the Parliament House with powder. And myself am put in the first place, as the first or chiefest offender therein.

"Now God I call to witness, Who must be my Judge, that I did never know of it before the rumour of the country brought it to the place where I was, after the treason was publicly discovered. And if this protestation be not sincerely true, without any equivocation, and the words thereof so understood by me, as they sound to others, I neither desire nor expect any favour at God's hand when I shall stand before His tribunal. But because this protestation doth only clear me in their opinion who are so persuaded of my conscience that they think I would not condemn my soul to save my body (which I hope by God's grace shall never be my mind): therefore, to give more full proof of my innocency to those also who may doubt the truth of my words, I take witness to yourself whether you, upon your certain knowledge, cannot clear me. I wrote a letter before Christmas which I hoped would be sufficient to have cleared me ; wherein, beside a most serious protestation (such as no honest man can use if he were guilty, as for my part my conscience doth persuade me), I alleged some other reasons which did make it more than probable, in my opinion, that I was neither to be charged with this late treason, nor chargeable with former dealing in State matters. But I did of purpose forbear this proof (which now I allege), although I did assure myself it would clear me from all just suspicion of being privy to that last and greatest treason ; and I did forbear to set it down, in regard I would' not take knowledge of any personal acquaintance with you, especially at your own house, not knowing how far you were to be touched for your life, and therefore would not add unto your danger. But now that it appears by your confession and trial in the country that you stand at the King's mercy for greater matters than your acquaintance with a priest, I hope you will not be loth I should publish that which cannot hurt you, and may help myself in a matter of such importance. And as I know you could never like to stoop to so base and unworthy a humour as to flatter or dissemble with any man, so much less can I fear that now (being in the case you are in) you can ever think it fit to dissemble with God, or not to utter your every knowledge, being required as from Him, and in the behalf of truth. Therefore I desire you will bear witness of the truth which followeth (if it be true that I affirm of my demand to you, growing upon my ignorance in the matter then in hand) as you expect truth and mercy at God's hand hereafter.

" First, I desire you to bear witness whether, coming to your house upon All Souls' Day last, before dinner, with intention and hope to celebrate there, and finding all things hid out of the way and many of your household gone, you did not perceive me to be astonished at it, as a thing much contrary to my expectation. Whereupon I asked you what was become of them. And when you told me you had sent them into Warwickshire, and your hounds also, and yourself were going presently after, about a hunting match which you had made, though I seemed satisfied for the present because a stranger was there with you, yet whether I did not soon after (when I had compared many particulars together which seemed strange unto me) draw you into a chamber apart, and there urge you to tell me what was the reason both of that sudden alteration in your house and of divers other things which I had observed before, but did not until then reflect upon them so much, as, for example, the number of horses that you had not long before in your stable, the sums of money which I had been told you had made of your stock and grounds, which (said I) in one of your judgment and provident care of your estate, are not likely to be done without some great cause, and seemed to think you had something in hand for the Catholic cause. Your answer was, ' No, there was nothing in hand that you knew of, or could tell me of.' And when I replied that I had some fear of it by those signs, considering you would not hurt your estate so much in likelihood without some cause equivalent (for I knew very well you meant to pay the statute, and so stood not in fear of losing your stock), and therefore willed you to look well that you followed counsel in your proceedings, or else you might hurt both yourself and the cause, your answer was (which I have remembered often since), < That you respected the Catholic cause much more than your own commodity, as it should well appear, whensoever you undertook anything,' I asked you once again whether, then, there were anything to be done, and whether you expected any help by foreign power, whereunto you answered, holding up the end of your finger, that you would not adventure so much in hope thereof. Then I said, 'I pray God you follow counsel in your doings. If there be any matter in hand, doth Mr. Walley [Father Garnet] know of it?' You answered, 'In truth, I think he doth not.'Then I said further, ' In truth, Sir Everard Digby, if there should be anything in hand, and that you retire yourself and company into Warwickshire, as into a place of most safety, I should think you did not perform the part of a friend to some of your neighbours not far off, and persons that, as you know, deserve every respect, and to whom you have professed much friendship, that they are left behind, and have not any warning to make so much provision for their own safety as were needful in such a time, but to defend themselves from rogues.' Your answer was (as I will be sworn), ' I warrant you it shall not need.' And so you gave me assurance that, if there had been anything needful for them or me to know, you would assuredly have told me. So I rested satisfied and parted from you, and after that I never saw you nor any of the conspirators. These were my questions unto you. And thus clear I was from the knowledge of that Plot against the Parliament House, whereof, notwithstanding, I am accused and proclaimed to be a practiser with the principal conspirators. But I refer me to God and your conscience, who are able to clear me, and I challenge the conscience of any one that certainly expecteth death, and desireth to die in the fear of God and with hope of his salvation, to accuse me of it if he can. God, of His mercy, grant unto us all grace to see and do His will, and to live and die His servants, for they only are and shall be happy for ever.

" Your companion in tribulation, though not in the cause,

"John Gerard."

Postscript, — u I hope you will also witness with me that you have ever seen me much averted from such violent courses, and hopeful rather of help by favour than by force. And, indeed, if I had not now been satisfied by your assurance that there was nothing in hand, it should presently have appeared how much I had misliked any forcible attempts, the counsel of Christ and the commandment of our superiors requiring the contrary, and that in patience we should possess our souls."

Addressed —" To Sir Everard Digby, prisoner in the Tower."

Endorsed in Cecil's hand —" Gerard the priest to Sir Everard Digby."

From Father Bartoli 3 we take a letter written from Rome, twenty-five years after the Powder Plot, addressed by Father Gerard to Dr. Smith, Bishop of Chalcedon, and Vicar Apostolic of England. The translation from Bar-toli's Italian version is a very old one; the date of the letter is September i, 1630.

"My Lord,—Not long since I received information that a manuscript dissertation, with the title of Brevis Inquisitio, &c, had been circulated in your parts; in the course of which it is pretended that a certain person continues to glory, to the present day, that by working under ground in the mine of Mr. Catesby and other conspirators, by excavating and carrying out the soil with his own hands, he has often found his shirt wet through and dripping with sweat as copiously as if it had been dragged through a river; and that this person is no other than myself, according to the opinion expressed in the letter. I despised such an idle tale as undeserving of an answer, knowing it, as most others must know it, to be not only most false, but, moreover, most remote from probability. I only begged of a good priest, who was setting out for England, to make known to your lordship what I had heard concerning such a deed laid to my charge, so contrary to all truth and justice; and that I hoped you would not give credit to it, but rather on hearing it mentioned by any one, would show the falsehood as it is. But in the meantime, while the priest is yet on his journey, I have learned from good authority that the book has been printed and published, curtailed indeed of that story, which is, however, circulated in manuscript through the hands of many, with every circumstance and embellishment; whence has arisen the general opinion that I am the person there spoken of, the testimony of a priest being alleged, who says that he has heard me boast of it. Truly I cannot sufficiently express my astonishment on perceiving that there can be found a Catholic, and if a priest so much the worse, who has so shameless a conscience as to dare assert what he must necessarily know to be false, and injurious to one who never did him any harm or injury whatever. This I can affirm of myself with respect to every priest in England, to many of whom I have often afforded assistance, but, to my knowledge, have never offended one. Your lordship, moreover, must be aware how very improbable it is that I should boast of a crime so false, so horrible. Now, with all due reverence, I call God to witness that I had no more knowledge of the conspiracy than a new-born infant might have ; that I never heard any one mention it; that I had not even a suspicion of the provision of gunpowder for the mine, excepting only when the Plot was detected, made public, and known to every one, and when the conspirators appeared openly in arms in the county of Warwick; then only did I hear of it for the first time, by a message brought to the place where I resided ; and this place was so ill provided that of itself it proved I could have no knowledge of the conspiracy, either from the expressions of others or from my own suspicions; there being in that place neither men nor arms sufficient to defend us from the marauders, who on every occasion of similar commotions issue forth and unite in bodies for plunder. Neither did this happen for want of sufficient means to furnish and reinforce the house with men and arms, but solely because we had no suspicion of a commotion, much less any knowledge of a conspiracy. Besides this, the accomplices in the Plot were subjected to the most rigorous examination, and questioned concerning me ; and although some of them under the torture named one or others of those who were privy to the conspiracy, nevertheless all constantly denied it of me. Sir Everard Digby, who, of all the others, for many reasons, was most suspected of having possibly revealed the secret to me, protested in open court and declared that he had often been instigated to say I knew something of the Plot, but that he had always answered in the negative, alleging the reason why he had never dared to disclose it to me, because, he said, he feared lest I should dissuade him from it. Therefore the greater part of the Privy Councillors considered my innocence established, it being proved by the concurrent testimony of so many, and by a letter in which I defended and cleared myself from such a groundless suspicion. In that letter, besides the reasons therein produced in proof of my innocence, I protested before Heaven and earth that, so far from being engaged in the conspiracy, I was as ignorant of it as man could be. Being at that time in imminent danger of falling into the hands of the Privy Councillors, who with the most refined diligence sent in every direction in quest of me, I had thoughts of surrendering myself up to every torment imaginable, and what is more to be regarded, to the terrible and disgraceful charge of perjury, if having me in their power they could convict me, by legal proof, of being privy to the conspiracy. There was a time when, under Elizabeth, they held me prisoner for something more than three years, during which period, many times and in as many ways as they chose, did they examine me, to discover in general if I had ever meddled in affairs of State. I challenged them to produce in proof a single character in my hand, a single word, or anything else sufficient to show it, and then to punish me when convicted with the most cruel death that could be inflicted. There never was brought forward the smallest trace or shadow of a proof. How much more improbable is it that I should consent to a Plot so inhuman, I who, from the natural disposition of my soul, independently of supernatural motives, hold in abhorrence everything that has the smallest appearance of cruelty. This I can affirm with truth, that from the time I first embraced the profession of life in which I am engaged, down to the present moment, I have never, by God's mercy, desired the grievous harm, much less the death, of any man in the world, although he may have been my most inveterate enemy: how could I then have had any hand or part in the sudden, unexpected, and on that account tremendous death of so many personages of such high quality, for whom I have ever borne the greatest respect. A person was employed to scatter copies of my fore-mentioned letter through various streets of London, and one in particular was delivered to the Earl of Northampton, and by him laid before the King, on whom my reasons so far prevailed to his satisfaction that he would have desisted from the rigorous search made after me, had not Cecil, for his own private ends, rendered him more violent than ever. For being persuaded that some of the conspirators had plotted against his life in particular, and knowing that most of them were my friends, he hoped if he could once lay hold of me, to find out from me how many and who were the conspirators. For this sole reason he never rested until he had again persuaded the King, as a thing evidently known to him and clearly demonstrated, that I was not only an accomplice, but the ringleader in the Plot, and therefore to be the first named in the proclamation; which was so done. Perceiving from this that the persecution was not likely to abate, and that I might be discovered and arrested, I took the advice to withdraw myself for a time, and to 'give place to wrath,' and, after so many years of hard labour in England, with the Apostles 'to come apart into a desert place and rest a little': nor was there any other principal motive of my leaving the kingdom. In fine, this is the simple naked truth; I was totally ignorant of the provision of gunpowder and of the mine; I was and I am as innocent of this and of every other conspiracy as your lordship or any other man living; and this I affirm and swear upon my soul, without any equivocation whatsoever; in such sort, that if the facts do not correspond truly to the meaning of the words, or if I had any information of the fore-mentioned Plot before it was made public to the whole world, as I have before said, I own myself guilty of perjury before God and men ; and as far as it is true that I had no knowledge of it, so far and no more do I ask mercy at the throne of God : and it is very probable that it will not be long before I must appear at the divine tribunal, considering my age and the present contagion in the neighbourhood ; for if it should reach us it is hardly possible I can escape, on account of the assistance which it is my duty to render to this Community, whose souls are committed to my care, 4 Therefore I am induced to hope that your lordship will not consider me so careless and prodigal of my eternal salvation, after having spent so many years in no other employment than that of seeking to know and to accomplish, the will of God, and of teaching the same to others, as to be now willing to burthen my conscience and risk the salvation of my soul by a protestation so solemn and spontaneous, if my conscience were not pure, my cause evident, and my words true in all sincerity. Now, as I doubt not that God, the Supreme Judge, Who sees and knows all things, will pass sentence on my cause according to its merits, so I hope that your lordship, now knowing me to be innocent, will not wish me to appear guilty, by permitting to stand against me without contradiction an accusation so false and of such enormous infamy. Since this accusation derives its greatest force from the authority of your lordship, who, it is publicly said, gives credit and support to it, I beseech you, by that love which you have for charity and justice, to oppose the falsity of the calumny by the truth of this my justification With respect to the priest, whoever he may be, by whose false allegation your lordship appears to have been deceived, I desire with all my heart he may meet with true repentance before he dies, so that we may all live together and love God in a blessed eternity."

Next, we find, in Father Henry More's History of the English Province S.J., 5 a letter from Father Thomas Fitz-herbert, Rector of the English College at Rome, of which house Father Gerard was then Confessor. It is not necessary for us to translate it from his Latin version, as it exists in English amongst the Stonyhurst MSS. 6 It is dated some months later than the foregoing letter of Father Gerard, and was sent by Mutius Vitelleschi, General of the Society, to the Bishop of Chalcedon, by the hands of Fathers Henry Floyd and Thomas Babthorpe, who were at the same time bearers of a second letter from Father Gerard to Bishop Smith, extracts from which we subjoin, translated from Bartoli. 7

" Right Rev. and my honourable good Lord,—Having understood that one of our Society hath been of late traduced, tacito nomine, in a printed book as to have bragged that he had sweat in working in the Powder Plot, and that your lordship have named him, and as it seemeth, dost believe him to be Father John Gerard, I think myself obliged to represent to your lordship's consideration some things concerning him, and that matter, as well in respect of the common bond of our religion and his great merits, as also for that he is at this present under my charge (albeit I acknowledge myself unworthy to have such a subject), and lastly for the knowledge I have had many years of his innocency in that point ever since that slanderous calumny was first raised by the heretics against him, at which time I myself and many other of his friends and kinsmen did very diligently and curiously inform ourselves of the truth thereof, and found that he was fully cleared of it even by the public and solemn testimony of the delinquents themselves, namely, of Sir Everard Digby (with whom he was known to be most familiar and confident), who publicly protested at his arraignment that he did never acquaint him with their design, being assured that he would not like of it, but dissuade him from it ; and of this I can show good testimony by letters from London written hither at the same time, bearing date the 29th of January, in the year 1606. Therefore, to the end that your lordship may the better believe it, I have thought good to show the same to some very credible persons, who are shortly to depart from hence, and do mean to present themselves to your lordship, of whom you may (if it please you) understand the truth of it. Besides that for your better satisfaction, I have also by our right reverend Father General's express order and commission, commanded him in their presence upon obedience (which commandment we hold by our Rule and Institute to bind, under pain of mortal sin) to declare the truth whether he had any knowledge of that Powder Plot or no, and he hath in their presence protested upon his salvation, that he had never any knowledge of it, either by Sir Everard Digby, or any other, until it was discovered, and that he came to know it by common fame ; besides that [he] alleged many pregnant proofs of his innocency therein, which I omit to write, because he himself doth represent them to your lordship by a letter of his own ; and of this also the witnesses aforesaid may inform your lordship if you be not otherways satisfied. In the meantime, I have only thought it my part to give this my testimony of his solemn protestation and oath, and withal to send to your lordship the enclosed copies of two clauses of letters from England and Flanders touching this matter, not doubting but that your lordship's charity will move you to admit the same as sufficient to clear him of that calumny, seeing there was never any proof produced against him, nor yet any ground of that slander but the malicious conceit and suspicion of heretics, by reason of his acquaintance with some of the delinquents, in which case a solemn protestation and oath, as he hath freely and voluntarily made, may suffice both in conscience and law for a canonical purgation to clear him from all suspicion as well of that fact as of all collusion or double dealing in this his protestation, especially seeing that he hath always been not only integerrimӕ famӕ, but also of singular estimation in England for his many years' most zealous and fruitful labours there, and his constant suffering of imprisonment and torments for the Catholic faith. Besides that, he hath been ever since a worthily esteemed and principal member of our Society, and given sufficient proof of a most religious and sincere conscience, to the edification of us all. This being considered, I cannot but hope that your lordship will rest satisfied of his innocency in this point, and out of your charity procure also to satisfy others who may have, by any speech of your lordship's, conceived worse of him than he hath deserved ; for so your lordship shall provide as well for the reparation of his fame as for the discharge of your own conscience, being bound both by justice and charity to restitution in this case, as I make no doubt but that your lordship would judge if it were another man's case; yea, and exact also of others if the like wrong had been done either to yourself, or to any kinsman, dear friend, or subject of yours, all which he is to me; and, therefore, I am the bolder, I will not say to expect this at your lordship's hands (because it doth not become me), but humbly to crave it of you as a thing which I shall take for a favour, no less to myself than to the Society; and so this to no other end, I humbly take my leave, wishing to your lordship all true felicity, this 15th of March, 1631.

                                                                                                      "Your lordship's humble servant,

" Thomas Fitzherbert."

" Ex Literis P.  Ægidii Schondonchii Seminarii Audomarensis Rectoris 1 Martii 1606:

"'Dum has scribo accepi literas recentissime datas a viro claro quibus significavit Dominum Everardum Dig bӕum, dum a Judicibus pronuntiaretur in eum mortis sententia, coram eisdem protestatum esse nullum penitus in Anglia Jesuitam hujus rei fuisse conscium, Nam, inquit, familiaris Patri Gerardo si quis alius, neque unquam ausus fui indicare tantillum, veritus ne conaretur frangere nostros conatus. Itaque sancte asseruit se id solo ex puro Catholicӕ ac Romanae Ecclesiae zelo neque ullo alio humano respectu suscepisse.'

" Out of the letter of Father Michael Walpole written to Father Persons, the 29th of January, 1606:

"'Touching Gerard's letter which I have seen, I can only say this much, that it seemeth to me to be so effectual, as nothing can be more, so that I am fully persuaded that the King's Majesty himself and the whole Council remain satisfied of him [in] their own hearts, and his Majesty is reported for certain to have declared so much in words upon the sight of his letter.'

" In the end, after his name, he writeth as followeth:

"'This letter is confirmed since by Sir Everard Digby's speech at his arraignment, in which he cleared all Jesuits and priests (to his knowledge) upon his salvation. And in particular, that though he was particularly acquainted with Gerard, yet he never durst mention this matter, being fully assured that he would be wholly against it, to which my Lord of Salisbury replied, affirming the contrary, and that he knew him to be guilty.'"

The first extract of the letter enclosed from Father Gerard runs thus:

" It is known to all how those of my blood have loved and served King James. My father knew it to his cost, for he was twice imprisoned for attempting to set free the glorious Queen Mary, the King's mother, and to secure the succession to her children : which intent of his own was so clear to the Ministers of State, that besides imprisonment, to purchase his life of them cost him some thousands of crowns, especially the first time when there were but three accused and he one of them, and of the other two, one lost his life. Of all which King James was mindful when he came from Scotland to be crowned King of England, and my brother at York offered him his service and that of all his house. ' I am particularly bound,' said he, 'to love your blood, on account of the persecution that you have borne for me,' and of that his love he there gave him the first pledge by making him a knight." 8

The remaining extract concludes our series of exculpatory letters:

" I send your lordship a copy of the three letters that I wrote to three Councillors of State, that you may see in them how I trusted to my innocence, when I offered to put it to the proof in the two ways which I there proposed to them. Further than this, though the conspirators had been put to death, and I saw that the course proposed by me to the Councillors was not accepted, while the matter was fresh, and I yet in London, I requested of our Fathers that I might present myself in person to the Council of State, which I would have done had they but given me leave; and if the Council would have proceeded against me, not on the score of religion, but for the conspiracy only, which alone was in question, and for which, if they had found me guilty of it, they might have done to me their very worst This request I can swear that I made and renewed several times to our Fathers, and there are some yet alive who can bear witness to it; but it did not seem good to them to consent to it."

The matter does not seem to have rested here, unless there is some mistake in a date, for Dr. Lingard 9 quotes from a MS. copy, 10 dated April 17, 1631, an affidavit made by Anthony Smith, a secular priest, before the Bishop of Chalcedon, "that in his hearing, Gerard had said in the Novitiate at Liege, that he worked in the mine with the lay conspirators till his clothes were as wet with perspiration as if they had been dipped in water ; and that the general condemnation of the Plot was chiefly owing to its bad success, as had often happened to the attempts of unfortunate generals in war." It would seem as if this were the original accusation, in answer to which the letter given above was written and that its date should be 1632. This would be the date if, though written in Rome, it was in Old Style. Of the attack on Father Gerard, Dr. Lingard says, " For my own part, upon having read what he wrote in his own vindication, I cannot doubt his innocence, and suspect that Smith unintentionally attributed to him what he had heard him say of some other person." 11

1 P.R.O., Domestic, James I., vol. xviii. n. 35.

2 Here the paper is torn, and three or four words are consequently illegible.

3 Inghilterra, lib. vi. cap. 6, p. 513.

4 He was then Confessor in the English College at Rome.

5 Lib. vii. n. 44, p. 339.

6 Angl. A. vol. iv. n. 92.

7 Inghilterra, pp. 510, 512.

8 Bartoli, Inghilterra, lib. vi. c. 6, p. 510.

9 History of England, ed. 1849, vol. vii. p. 549.

10 There are copies in the archives of the See of Westminster. The date of the following is later than that quoted by Dr. Lingard.
"Copia. Ego infrascriptus testor me audivisse P. Joannem Gerardum Societatis Jesu, dum Superior esset in Novitiatu Anglicano Leodii, jactantem quod dum foderet sub domo Parlamentaria Londini una cum aliis in actione pulveraria ipsius et eorum indusia erant ita madida sudore ac si ex aqua fuissent extracta. Londini 22 Junii 1631. Anthonius Smithӕus. "Concordat cum originali. Ita testor, G. Farrarus Nots. Aposts " Endorsed in the handwriting of the Bishop of Chalcedon "Wet shirt in Latin."

11 There is a letter extant from Father Blount, the Provincial, to the General, dated Feb. 10, 1632, which has been understood to relate to the accusation against Father Gerard, or to a similar accusation against some other member of the Society. It must, however, relate to some other matter, as it says, "Vivit enim adhuc author ipse criminis," and that the alleged offence took place five years before the entrance into the Society of the Father in question.

Tuesday, 4 November 2014

The Life Of Fr John Gerard S.J. (A Hunted Priest) Part 37.

THE STORM.
1605.
"Since it was my chief friends who were involved in that disaster of the Powder Plot, the Council on this account believed me to be privy to it, and from the first sought for me with great persistence and severity. They sent certain magistrates to search our house most exactly, with orders, if they found me not, to stay in the house till recalled, to post guards all round the house every night, and to have men on the watch both day and night at a distance of three miles from the house on every side, who were to apprehend all whom they did not know and bring them before the said magistrates. All this was done to the letter. But immediately the news reached us of such a plot having been discovered, and we learnt that certain of our friends had been killed and others taken, expecting that in such a season we too should have something to suffer, we had made all snug before they came, so that they found nothing. They continued searching however for many days, till at last my hostess discovered to the justice in chief command one of the hiding-places in which a few books had been stowed away, thinking that he would then desist from searching any further under the impression that if a priest had been in the house he would have been hidden there, yet they continued in the house for full nine days; and I meanwhile remained shut up in a hiding-hole where I could sit but not stand upright. This time however I did not suffer from hunger, for every night food was brought to me secretly: nay, after four or five days, when the rigour of the search was somewhat relaxed, my friends even took me out at night and warmed me at a fire; for it was wintry weather, just before Christmas-tide. And when nine days had passed, the searching party withdrew, believing it impossible I could be there so long without being discovered.

"In the meantime they had taken a priest who, knowing nothing of the watch set about the place, was coming to our house for safety. This good priest (by name Thomas Laithwaite, 1 who is now of our Society, and is labouring in England) had left us a few days before at my request, when we heard of the Plot, in order to communicate with Father Garnet, and obtain from him for me instructions how to act in the present crisis. Even on his way thither he was taken, but escaped again for that time in the following manner. His captors took him to an inn, intending to bring him up for examination and committal the next day. On entering the inn, he took off his cloak and sword and laid them on a bench; then on pretence of looking after his horse and getting him taken to water, he went to the stable, and as there was a stream near the house, he bade the boy lead the horse thither at once, and himself went along also. When they had come to the stream and the horse was drinking, 'Go,' said he to the lad, 'get ready the hay, and the straw for his bed, and I will bring him back when he has drunk.' The boy returned to the stable without further thought, and he mounting his horse spurred him into the stream, and swam him to the opposite bank. Those in the inn, seeing his cloak and sword still lying there, had for some time no suspicion of his stratagem; but hearing from the stable-boy what had happened, they saw they had been outwitted, and immediately set off in pursuit. They were however too late, for the fugitive, knowing the way well, got to the house of a Catholic before night, and lay hid there for a few days. Then, finding that he could not get to Father Garnet, and thinking all danger had passed in our direction, he tried to return to me. But while avoiding Charybdis he fell into the clutches of Scylla; for, as I said above, he was taken on his way to our house, and dragged to London. They were not able, however, to prove him a priest, and his brother was allowed to buy him his freedom for a sum of money.

" Two other priests who were resident with me in that house (one of whom, as I said before, was Father Strange) at the beginning of their troubles wished to go to Father Garnet and remain with him. Both of them however were taken prisoners on their way; one was thrown into Bridewell, and was afterwards banished together with other priests; while Father Strange, the other, was sent to the Tower, where he suffered much, as has been before mentioned.

" The history of this Plot, its causes and consequences, is but too well known ; since it has been written by both friends and enemies, though perhaps by neither exactly as it ought to be. I myself when I came from England to Rome, was ordered to put in writing an account of the whole affair, and did so as well as I could. There is no need therefore to repeat here, what I wrote at length on that occasion —in what state England then was—how the persecution not only was not relaxed on the accession of the King [James I.], but was even embittered, and carried on more grievously than even All the Catholics therefore expected, and some knew for certain, that new laws would be made against them in Parliament, more severe and cruel than the former ones; that not only would nothing be relaxed of the tyranny of the Queen, but that the yoke which they had so long borne with weary necks would be made yet heavier to bear. Hereupon some of the younger and more impatient sort, seeing that they were scourged, not now with whips only but with scorpions—that no human hope was left them except from such aid as they could give themselves, since peace was now concluded between His Catholic Majesty and the King of England, from which peace the Catholics were excluded (though it was they who had a right to peace and not the wicked)—these persons, I say, seeing this, and forgetting at last that patience in which we ought to possess our souls, and not enduring any longer to see sacred things trodden under foot, and the faithful robbed of their goods and loaded with innumerable evils, to the daily lamentable ruin of weak souls, determined to raise the people of God from this disastrous state, and to wage war in strictest secrecy against the enemies of their own souls and bodies and of the Catholic cause. I say, in secrecy, because it must be acknowledged that any open opposition was no longer possible, since the Catholics were broken in strength and ground down to the earth, and all their arms had been taken from them. Thus it was that these persons I speak of, wishing to deliver themselves and others from this terrible slavery of soul and body, devised this plot, which they thought the only possible way of accomplishing what they wished, viz., by taking off at a single blow all the chief enemies of the Catholic cause.

"On all these points I have written at full in the treatise I mentioned. I have also detailed there the way in which they had determined to proceed, and how one of them 2 disclosed the matter in confession to one of our Fathers when it was already ripe for execution, who refused to hear him any further unless he was allowed to inform his Superior; and how the
Robert Catesby
Superior [Father Garnet], upon hearing so bloody a scheme, at once commanded the Father to deter and prevent his penitent as much as he could from prosecuting it, and immediately wrote to the Pope, entreating His Holiness to forbid the Catholics to take any measures of external violence. I have also there set down how the Superior himself and Father Oldcorne were at last taken at [Henlip] the residence of the latter, after remaining pent up for twelve days in a hiding-hole:—how with them were also taken two serving-men, or as I have heard since and fully believe, two lay-brothers of our Society, both of whom suffered martyrdom. One of these, Rodolph [Ashley] 3 by name, suffered with Father Oldcorne, whose companion and attendant he had been, and whose feet he kissed as the Father was ascending the ladder to his execution, giving him thanks aloud for the charity and benevolence he had experienced from him, and praising God for having allowed him to die in the company of so holy a priest.

"The other was Little John [Nicholas Owen], who for nearly twenty years had been Father Garnet's companion, and of whom I have made frequent mention in the course of this Narrative. He was well known to the persecutors as the chief deviser and maker of hiding-places all over England, and consequently as one who could discover more priests, and do more harm to Catholics, if he could be brought to make disclosures, than any other man. They therefore tortured him so long and so cruelly, that at last he died 4 under their hands ; but they were never able to shake the constancy of his soul.

"I have related also in that treatise how Fathers Garnet and Oldcorne were brought up to London, and frequently examined, especially Father Garnet; how both of them were tortured, but Father Oldcorne 5 most: how this latter was then taken back to Worcester, and there, though nothing but his priesthood was proved against him, condemned and executed by hanging and quartering, and so died a martyr: how Father Garnet was brought to trial in London, and gave so clear and eloquent defence of himself, that all were struck with admiration ; but after a time was so interrupted and brow-beaten by Cecil and others, that the gentle Father could not proceed with his defence as he had begun : 6 and how when brought to the place of execution, by the firmness and modesty of his whole demeanour, and by the heroic calmness with which he received or rather embraced his death, he touched the hard hearts of his cruel enemies, and rendered them well-affected towards him.

"All these details, which I have here barely enumerated, in my other narrative I have described at full. I will however add here something on the way in which the straw was obtained, on which appeared the miraculous likeness of Father Garnet; for I was afterwards present at the death-bed of him who found the straw, or rather to whom God granted it. This person [John Wilkinson] then narrated to me a little before his death, that on the morning of the holy martyr's execution he had felt himself moved by an unusual fervour, and by a desire of being present at his martyrdom, mainly with the view of obtaining some portion of his relics. He had therefore, he said, pushed forward close to where the executioner was hacking his body in pieces, but durst not touch anything for fear of the officers standing round; just then, the executioner having severed the venerable head from the body threw it into a basket full of straw, upon which an ear of straw leapt out into his hand, or so close to it that he could remove it without attracting any notice. This ear of straw he found was stained with blood, so that he kept it with great reverence and joy; and he protested to me that for some days he found himself more inclined to spiritual things and to follow the counsels of Christ than he had ever been before; so that he felt no peace till he gave up all he had, and made arrangements for coming hither across the water, to make his studies for the priesthood. He had also a strong desire of entering the Society; and in these pious sentiments he continued to his death, which took place at St. Omers, and in which he gave such edification to all about him, that no one there remembers a holier death than his.

"I will also add here a further testimony regarding an incident of Father Oldcorne's martyrdom. I mentioned in that other narrative of mine, that I had had information by letter from England, that this holy martyr's intestines, being thrown into the fire according to sentence, burned for sixteen days, exactly the number of years during which he had kindled in that country the fire of Divine love and maintained it by his word and example. Now quite lately I had a conversation on this subject with a pious priest, who at present goes by the name of Father North at St. Omers. He tells me that he was himself a prisoner at Worcester at the time, and that he heard then from many persons, not only that the fire lasted all that time notwithstanding a great deal of rain that fell, but that it broke out into high flames, and that multitudes went to see it, who on their return acknowledged the truth of the report: so that at last, on the sixteenth or seventeenth day they were obliged to extinguish the fire, or at least cover it up by heaping earth upon it. This same Father also declared that he subsequently saw in the courtyard of the house where these two Fathers were taken the form of a crown traced out by grass that had grown there. He said that this grass was different both in kind and colour from any other about; that it grew taller also, and traced clearly out the shape of an imperial crown. He added moreover that the beasts that got into the court-yard through the broken gates (for the house from the time of the capture had been neglected and abandoned), browsed there for many months, yet never during the whole time touched this crown or trod upon it. He looked on it as a symbol of the innocence of these Fathers and of their eternal reward."

1 Father Thomas Laithwaite died in England, June 10, 1655, in his seventy-eighth year, forty-nine years after his admission into the Society, having spent thirty on the English Mission. Summ. Def. Vide infr. p. 404.

2 This was Catesby, the prime mover of the whole plot.

3 See Troubles, First Series, p. 162.

4 After thus wringing his life from him by torture, his gaolers gave out that he had committed suicide in prison, to escape further question : thus adding calumny to murder. And this statement is found in most of the larger histories of England. The holy brother was never brought into any court, nor allowed the least chance of communication with any friends; nor could anything be learnt of him after his capture, but what his gaolers chose to tell. That he was tortured barbarously they acknowledged, by saying that he committed suicide to escape their cruelty; that he never revealed anything was also acknowledged. It must be remembered that those who were killed in prison were always given out by the authorities as suicides. But who can believe that a man who would suffer the extremity of torture rather than offend God by revealing what would injure his neighbour, would not also suffer the same extremity rather than offend God by self-murder? The Day of Judgment will refute this calumny as well as others.

5 He was hung up by the hands, in the way Father Gerard has described of himself, for five hours at a time, and that for five successive days.

6 James himself said that " the Jesuit had not had fair play."


Saturday, 11 October 2014

The Life Of Fr John Gerard S.J. (A Hunted Priest) Part 14.

Edward Oldcorne and Nicholas Owen, engraving by Gaspar Bouttats
FATHER OLDCORNE. 
" Since I have mentioned Father Oldcorne's residence, I will set forth in short how he came to take up his abode there. When he first arrived in England he stayed some time with the Superior, as he had no place of his own to go to. At a little distance from his Superior's residence in the country, there was a fine house belonging to a Catholic gentleman, a prisoner in the Tower of London for the Faith."

This was Thomas Abington, whose wife was Lord Mounteagle's sister, and he was in the Tower in 1588 on the pretext of the Babington Plot. "The house, ,, Father Gerard says in the "Narrative of the Powder Plot," 1 "was called Henlip, two miles distant from the city of Worcester, and so large and fair a house that it might be seen over great part of the country; and indeed it was so fair and commodious a house that it had often caused the owner of it much trouble, being an eyesore unto some Puritans of great wealth that were neighbours within some miles, and nothing so well seated ; who therefore procured often warrants to search that house in hope to find some priest there, for which the house and whole estate of the gentleman might be forfeited to the king, and so begged by them that were the causers and actors of such apprehension. But this being often essayed was never permitted by God until" the time when Fathers Garnet and Oldcorne were taken there, soon after the Gunpowder Plot. Dorothy was the name of Thomas Abington's sister, of whose conversion 2 by Father Oldcorne Father Gerard next speaks. " He had a sister, a heretic, who had been bought up at the Queen's court. There she had drank so deep of the poison of heresy, that no physician could be found to cure her, though many had tried. She readily spoke with them all about religion, but she did so all for the sake of argument, and not for the sake of learning. Thus no profit was made of an excellent Catholic's house, of which she had the charge while her brother was away. The house was one which surpassed all in the county for beauty, pleasant situation, and the many advantages it offered to Catholics.
Father Oldcorne

"After many attempts had been made on the lady without effect, Father Garnet wished Father Oldcorne to go and try his hand for once. He went, and found her very obstinate; he plied her with arguments from Scripture, reason, and authority, but all in vain. The woman's obstinacy however did not foil the man's perseverance. He turned to God, and strove to cast out the dumb devil by prayer and fasting. She, seeing the Father eating nothing for the first and second day, began to wonder at his way of going on. Led on notwithstanding by obstinacy or curiosity, she said to herself, 'Perhaps he is not a man but an angel; so I will see whether he subsists on angels' food ; and if he does not, he shall not convert me.'

"Accordingly the good Father kept up his fast for four days without tasting anything. By this steadfastness he discomfited the devil, and the woman was cured from that hour. He had truly obtained for her ears to hear, for from being very obstinate and headstrong, she became henceforth very obedient and humble. Indeed it seems likely that the reason why other priests could not win her to God. was because the Divine Providence had destined her for this Father, and designed not only her, but nearly the whole county to be brought over in consequence. He lived for sixteen years together in this residence and by his fruitful labours in this and the neighbouring counties, he won many to the faith, strengthened the wavering, and restored the fallen, besides stationing priests in divers places." Or, as Father Gerard expresses it elsewhere, " In which time of his abode in those parts it is not easy to be believed how many obstinate heretics he converted, how many weak Catholics he confirmed, how many scholars he sent over to the Seminaries and religious women to monasteries, how many houses he brought to that degree of devotion that he might and did settle priests in them"

"This it was that made several apply to him what St. Jerome writes of St. John, that 'he founded and governed all the domestic churches in those parts;' and in good sooth all looked up to him as their father. Such was his prudence, that he fully satisfied all; such his diligence and endurance of toil, that he never failed anyone in the hour of need ; and his alms supplied the wants of many poor Catholics. In fact his house might have been one of our residences in a Catholic country, such was the number of Catholics flocking there to the Sacraments, to hear his sermons, and to take advice in their doubts. His helpmate was Father Thomas Lister, 3 a man of distinguished learning.

"While thus serving others, Father Oldcorne treated his own body with great harshness. Not satisfied with the labours I have set forth, and his 'care for all the churches' in those parts, which really in great measure seemed to depend on him for everything, he had many ways of macerating his flesh. He applied hard to study while at home. Of his fasts I have already spoken. He made use of the hair-shirt, and still more of the discipline, with great fervour. By all this put together, while he thought only of chastising his enemy and bringing it under subjection, he nearly made himself an unprofitable servant. First he broke a blood-vessel, which caused him to vomit blood in quantities. He managed to get over this, but almost every year he fell into such a weakness that his strength could hardly be restored. From this infirmity there came a cancer in his mouth, which increased to such a degree as to be incurable. The doctors said, as he told me afterwards, that some bones which seemed decayed would have to be taken out. The good Father fearing thereby to be hindered from preaching, in which he was gifted with a marvellous talent, resolved first to go on a pilgrimage to St. Winifred's Well, a famous place and a sort of standing miracle.

" St. Winifred was a holy maiden in North Wales, comely of face, and comelier still for her faith and love of chastity. A son of one of the Welsh chieftains loved her and sought her hand. She rejected him, as well on account of his being a heathen, as because she had already vowed her virginity to God at the hands of the bishop of the place, and was unwilling to yield it to man. The enraged chieftain's love turned into fury, and he cut off the maiden's head with a stroke of his sword. As this happened on the slope of a hill, the head rolled down to the bottom, where instantly burst forth a powerful spring of water. Ever since, the glen, which before got its name from its dryness, 4 has had in it a copious stream of water, which takes its rise at that spring and flows on to the sea. Such a volume of water gushes out of the spring every minute, that it suffices to turn a mill at fifty paces distance. There are very large stones in the well, all red, as if covered with fresh blood. The people of the place are very loth to allow pieces to be cut off. Such pieces are also red, and the place of the cut changes from white to red in time. In the stream are also found many stones either covered or sprinkled with blood. The Catholics gather these, and treasure them up as objects of devotion, as they do the sweet-smelling moss that sticks to the stones. 5 The water in it is very cold ; but drinking it or bathing in it out of devotion has never done anyone any harm. I myself have taken several draughts together fasting without hurt. On the feast of St. Winifred (the 3rd of November), the water rises a foot higher than usual. It turns red on that day, and on the morrow is clearer than before. I visited it once on that day to witness the change, and found the water troubled and of a reddish hue, whereas it is generally so clear that you can see a pin at the bottom. It was winter, and freezing so hard at the time, that, though the ice had been broken the night before by the people crossing the stream, I had hard work to ford it on horseback the first thing next morning. Notwithstanding this severe frost, I went into the well, as all pilgrims do, and lay down and prayed there for a quarter of an hour. On coming out my shirt was of course dripping wet, but I did not change. I put on my clothes over it, and took no harm whatever.

"These are wonderful facts, but in addition to them very signal miracles are often wrought there. A heretic visitor seeing the Catholics bathe out of devotion, said scoffingly, ' What makes these fellows bathe in this water ? —I'll wash my boots in it' He jumped in as he was with his boots on, and sword in hand. No sooner had he done so than he felt the supernatural power of the water, which before he had refused to believe. He was at once palsied and lost the use of his limbs, and his sword could hardly be got out of his hand. For several years he was drawn about in a little cart, a cripple, to punish his own unbelief and to strengthen the belief of others. I myself have spoken to several persons who saw the lame man, and heard the story vouched for both by the man himself and by all who knew him. I learnt from them that the cripple afterwards repented, and recovered his soundness in the same well where he had lost it. There are many other stories of the same sort.

"Such was the place where the blessed Father Oldcorne determined to go, but St. Winifred was beforehand with him. He chanced on his way to reach the house of two maiden sisters, poor indeed in their way of life, but rich in the fear of God. They lived together in His service, keeping a priest in their house, whom they supported and honoured as a father. This good priest had a stone taken out of the stream that flows from the well, sprinkled with blood as I described before. He used to place it on the altar with the other relics. When Father Oldcorne saw it, he took it and kissed it with great reverence. Then going apart he fell on his knees and began to lick the stone, praying inwardly as he held part of it in his mouth. In half an hour all pain was gone, and the disease was cured. He travelled on to the well, however, rather to return thanks than to ask any further favour. There he recovered also from the weakness of body which was thought to have brought on the cancer, and returned home as strong and hale as he had been for many a year. These are the words in which Father Oldcorne himself told me the story. The priest also, in whose abode he found the stone, lately vouched for the facts when I met him at St. Omers. He gave me an account of other marvels that happened at the death of Father Oldcorne, of which hereafter. So much then for Father Oldcorne, I return now to my own poor self."

1 Condition of Catholics, p. 149.

2 Ibid - p. 283.

3 As this Father was imprisoned at Middleburg in Lent 1598, his work with Father Oldcorne must by that time have ended, and about the end of Elizabeth's reign he was stationed "with Mr. Cotton of Warblington in Hampshire." Troubles, First Series, pp. 166, 191.

4 " Beunonus igitur cum Teuyth patrocinio suum fixit tugurium in convalle quӕ Britonum lingua Sechnant appellabatur." From the Life of St. Winifred in Cott. MSS. Claud. A. 5, published in the Lives of the Cambro-British Saints, Llandovery, 1843, p. 199.

The red lichen and the moss are both odoriferous. Of the former Pennant says that "the stone to which it adheres easily betrays itself by the colour being as if smeared with blood, and, if rubbed, yields a smell like violets."

Friday, 10 October 2014

The Life Of Fr John Gerard S.J. (A Hunted Priest) Part 13.

A VISIT TO FATHER GARNET.
1591
" I USED to visit my Superior several times a year, when I wished to consult him on matters of importance. Not only I, but all of us used to resort to him twice a year to give our half-yearly account of conscience and renew the offerings of our vows to our Lord Jesus. I always remarked that the others drew great profit from this holy custom of our Society. As for myself, to speak my mind frankly, I never found anything do me more good, or stir up my courage more to fulfil all the duties which belong to our Institute, and are required of the workmen who till the Lord's vineyard in that country. Besides experiencing great spiritual joy from the renewal itself, I found my interior strength recruited, and a new zeal kindled within me afterwards in consequence ; so that if I have not done any good, it must have come from my carelessness and thanklessness, and not from any fault of the Society, which afforded me such means and helps to perfection—means peculiar to itself and not shared by any other religious order.

" On one occasion we were all met together in the Superior's house while he yet resided in the country, and were employed in the renovation of spirit. We had had several conferences, and the Superior had given each of us some advice in private, when the question was started what we should do if the priest-hunters suddenly came upon us, seeing that there were so many of us, and there were nothing like enough hiding-places for all. We numbered then, I think, nine or ten of ours, besides other priests our friends, and some Catholics who were forced to seek concealment. The blessed Father Garnet 1 answered, 'True, we ought not all to meet together now that our number is daily increasing: however, as we are here assembled for the greater glory of God, I will be answerable for all till the renovation is over, but beyond that I will not promise.' Accordingly, on the very day of the renovation, though he had been quite unconcerned before, he earnestly warned every one to look to himself, and not to tarry without necessity, adding, 'I do not guarantee your safety any longer.' Some, hearing this, mounted their horses after dinner and rode off. Five of ours and two secular priests stayed behind.

" Next morning, about five o'clock, when Father Southwell was beginning mass, and the others and myself were at meditation, I heard a bustle at the house door. Directly • after I heard cries and oaths poured forth against the servant for refusing admittance. The fact was that four priest-hunters, or pursuivants as they are called, with drawn swords, were trying to break down the door and force an entrance. The faithful servant withstood them, otherwise we should have been all made prisoners. But by this time Father Southwell had heard the uproar, and, guessing what it meant, had at once taken off his vestments and stripped the altar; while we strove to seek out everything belonging to us, so that there might be nothing found to betray the lurking of a priest. We did not even wish to leave boots and swords lying about, which would serve to show there had been many guests, though none of them appeared. Hence many of us were anxious about our beds, which were still -warm, and only covered according to custom previous to being made.

Some therefore went and turned their beds over, so that the colder part might deceive any body who put his hand in to feel. Thus while the enemy was shouting and bawling outside, and our servants were keeping the door, saying that the mistress of the house, a widow, had not yet got up, but that she was coming directly and would give them an answer, we profited by the delay to stow away ourselves and all our baggage in a cleverly-contrived hiding-place.

" At last these leopards were let in. They raged about the house, looking everywhere, and prying into the darkest corners with candles. They took four hours over the business, but failed in their search, 2 and only brought out the forbearance of the Catholics in suffering, and their own spite and obstinacy in seeking. At last they took themselves off, after getting paid, forsooth, for their trouble. So pitiful is the lot of the Catholics, that those who come with a warrant to annoy them in this or in other way, have to be paid for so doing by the suffering party instead of by the authorities who send them, as though it were not enough to endure wrong, but they must also pay for their endurance of it. When they were gone, and were now some way off, so that there was no fear of their returning, as they sometimes do, a lady came and summoned out of the den not one but many Daniels. The hiding-place was under ground, covered with water at the bottom, so that I was standing with my feet in w#ter all the time. We had there Fathers Garnet, Southwell, and Oldcorne (three future martyrs), Father Stanny and myself, two secular priests, and two or three lay gentlemen. Having thus escaped that day's danger, Father Southwell and I set off the next day together, as we had come: Father Oldcorne stayed, his dwelling or residence being not far off."

Father Oldcorne's residence was Henlip House near Worcester, the seat of the Abingtons, where he and Father Garnet were discovered and captured, at the time of the Gunpowder Plot, after a search of eight days. To Father Oldcorne we return in the next chapter: our present duty is to illustrate the account of the search in Father Garnets house that Father Gerard has just given us.

The house was that in which Mrs. Brooksby and Anne Vaux lived in Warwickshire, and the date was October the 15th to the 18th, 1591- As to the house > Father Gerard has already told us that Father Garnet did not come to live in London or its neighbourhood till Father Southwell was imprisoned in July 1592. The county in which he previously resided is indicated by Father Gerard in his "Narrative of the Powder Plot," 3 where he says that "Father Oldcorne and he [Father Gerard himself] met at London according to their appointment, and by good hap found the Superior [Father Garnet] then in London, though his ordinary abode were then [1588] in Warwickshire, almost a hundred miles from London."

This house was confusedly indicated to Government in "the confession of George Snape," which is signed by Justice Young. 4 - "Moreover I have heard for a truth, and I do verily persuade myself that it is so indeed, that in Warwickshire dwelleth one of the Lord Vaux his daughters, whose husband's name I marked not, and yet I think I have heard him named. She is not far distant from one Mrs. Brooks, a recusant, if I be not deceived. This Mrs. Vaux entertaineth commonly a priest or two in her house, and is resorted to by divers others, so that sometimes there are to be found in the house at one time five or six priests together. They have very safe and close places of convenience in the house for them to lurk in, as it should seem, for Mr. Hodgkins hath been there divers times and searched the house, when there hath been three or four together, and yet could find none of them. When I heard the report of this, if I had thought so much of the matter as I have done sithence, I would have informed myself more in particular of the situation and state of the house, but I took no great heed at that time to the reporter's words."

The ladies were Anne Vaux and Eleanor, widow of Edward Brooksby, daughters of William third Lord Vaux by his first wife Elizabeth, daughter of John Beaumont of Gracedieu in Leicestershire, Esq. Their half-brother George Vaux left a widow with whom Father Gerard lived at a later period of his missionary life, and when he describes her position in life he says that it was in the house of her husband's sisters, " one unmarried, the other a widow," that Father Garnet lived so long.

The very meeting and search at Father Garnet's residence in Warwickshire described by Father Gerard he has himself given some account of in a letter to Father Claud Aquaviva the General of the Society, which has been already printed. 5 It would however be well to place the descriptive portion of it in juxtaposition with Father Gerard's Narrative. Father Christopher Grene, from whose transcript 6 it is translated, introduces this part of the letter with the words, " He then tells how they met on St. Luke's day, 1591, for the renewal of vows, and were freed from imminent peril."

" That solemn meeting of ours was fixed for the three days that precede the Feast of St. Luke [October 18] . The house we had chosen for the purpose of our assembly was that which we had almost always employed on former occasions. It was the house of two sisters, one a widow, and the other a virgin, both of them illustrious for goodness and holiness, whom in my own mind I often compare to the two women who received our Lord. . . .

" Of a sudden there arrives a Queen's messenger. . . . Rosaries, chalices, sacred vestments, all other signs of piety are, with the men, thrown into a cavern ; the mistress of the house is hidden away in another hiding-place. ... On this occasion, as often enough on others when the pursuivant came, the younger sister, the unmarried one, passed herself off for the mistress of the house. . . To all the other discomforts this is to be added, that in cases like this it is necessary to contend with men who are hard to satisfy. This the young lady always did with such skill and prudence as to be able to control their pertinacity and talkativeness. She was remarkable at all times for her virginal modesty and shamefacedness, but in the cause of God and the defence of His servants the virgo became virago. She is almost always ill, but we have seen her when so weakened as to be scarce able to utter three words without pain, on the arrival of the pursuivants become so strong as to spend three or four hours in contest with them. When she has no priest in the house she feels afraid ; but the simple presence of a priest so animates her that then she makes sure that no devil has any power over her house. This was proved to be true in this cruel search in particular. . . . For, quite miraculously, one pursuivant who took into his hand a silver pyx which was used for carrying the Blessed Sacrament from place to place, straightway put it down again, as if he had never seen it. Before the eyes of another lay a precious dalmatic folded up. He unfolded everything else, but that he did not touch. I should never stop if I were to write down all the edifying things that have happened in this or other searches."
Fr Robert Southwell

The martyr-poet Father Southwell refers in one of his letters to the pleasure these meetings gave him. The occasion related by him was some little time before that I on which this search was made, as his letter is dated March 8, 1589/90. The letter is translated by Bishop Challoner from the Spanish of Yepez ; in the following extract some alterations are made in accordance with the original Latin. 7 "We have all together with the greatest joy renewed our vows, according to our custom, spending some days in mutual exhortations and conferences. Aperuimus ora et attraximns spiritum 8 It seemed to me that I saw the cradle of the Catholic religion which is now being born in England, the seeds of which we now sow in tears that others may come and bear the sheaves in gladness. We have sung the canticles of the Lord in a strange land, and in this desert we have sucked honey from the rock and oil from the hardest stone. But extrema gandii hectics occupat, the end of these our joys was in sorrow. Sudden fears dispersed us, but in the end we escaped with much danger but little hurt. I and another of ours, seeking to avoid Scylla, had like to have fallen on Charybdis, but by the mercy of God we passed betwixt them both without being shipwrecked, and are now sailing in a safe harbour." 9

Another Father who is named by Father Gerard as present at this meeting in October 1591, and as shut up in the same hiding-place with himself, is Father Thomas Stanny. In November 1609, that is, about the time when Father Gerard wrote his autobiography, this Father wrote a " Relation about Martyrs" which is not now known to exist, but of which a few fragments are preserved for us by Father Christopher Grene. 10 He thus mentions Father Garnet, and the search at the renewal of vows in 1591. " He being sent into England, and shortly after Father Weston the Superior happening to be taken . . . blessed Father Henry Garnet succeeded him, and for the space of almost twenty years performed that office with great charity and edification ... and with great increase of the Catholic faith and benefit of our Society, for at his first coming into England he there found only one Father of our Society, but at his glorious martyrdom he left behind him above forty of our Society. . . .

" Amongst other virtues, he had special devotion unto the Blessed Sacrament, in so much that he very seldom omitted to say mass for any troubles or travels. It was his custom always during the whole Octave of Corpus Christi to reserve the most Blessed Sacrament upon the altar with great ornaments, reverence, devotion and processions. 11 And when some said unto him, ' Your Reverence should do very well to be more wary in these dangerous times/ ... he made them this most confident answer, ' God, without doubt, will both defend and protect Himself and us likewise, if we firmly trust and rely on Him.' . . .

" He had likewise a very great care that those that were not professed should, according to our rules, diligently twice a year renew their vows, which for some twelve or fourteen years he caused us to observe very exactly; although that, by reason of searching and such like troubles, divers were much against our meeting: yet his trust and confidence in God was so great that by no means he would omit it . . . but always said, ' By the grace of God I will take charge of you all until you have made your renovation, but afterwards provide for yourselves/ For which cause most of us did depart the same day, because that divers times it fell out that the very next day, when the greatest part were gone, the pursuivants came to search the house ; as twice I myself had trial thereof, when the next morning seven of us were driven  to hide ourselves in secret caves under ground. At our meeting were made divers sermons, one by our Superior himself, the rest by others of our Society."

Against such men a powerful Government was engaged in a war of extermination, and false brethren were found to betray them. In the following year James Young alias George Dingley, alias Thomas Christopher, the poor priest with whom we have already made acquaintance, made the following offer 12 to Lord Keeper Puckering. " This term time divers priests will be in London, and as I think Garnet the Jesuit will also be here, or some other of the chief of them, with whom I should haply meet abroad and covertly give your honour to understand of them, that therein also your lordship may have experience of my sincere meaning and desire to requite in some sort her Majesty's most princely favour and your honour s bounty towards me. Thus wearied with irksome imprisonment, yet content with your lordship's determination, I commend your lordship to the safe tuition of Almighty God. From my prison this 30th October, 1592 ."

1 When this was written, the strict laws of Urban VIII. had not yet been made, which forbid the introduction of any public religious veneration except by the authority of the Holy See.

Defecerunt scrutantes scrutinio.—MS. Psalm lxiii. 7.

3 Condition of Catholics, p. 282.

4 P.R.O., Domestic, Elizabeth, vol. ccxxix. n. 78; dated in the Calendar 1589.

5 Troubles, First Series, p. 149.

6 Stonyhurst MSS., Father Grene's Collectan. P., f. 556.

7 P.R.O., Domestic, Elizabeth, vol. cexxx. n. 104.

8 Psalm cxviii. 131.

9 Father Southwell has written this as an introduction to two different letters bearing the same date, one of which refers to the other, in which he has described the martyrdom of Bales and Horner.

10 Stonyhurst MSS., Father Grene's Collectan. P., f. 581.

11 See Troubles, Second Series, p. 144.

12 P.R.O., Domestic, Elizabeth, vol. ccxliii. n. 50.

Thursday, 9 October 2014

The Life Of Fr John Gerard S.J. (A Hunted Priest) Part 12.

EXCURSIONS.

" I USED also to make other missionary excursions at this time to more distant counties towards the north. On the way I had to pass through my native place, and through the midst of my kindred and acquaintance; but I could not do much good there, though there were many who professed themselves great friends of mine. I experienced in fact most fully the truth of that saying of Truth Himself, that no prophet is received in his own country; so that I felt little wish at any time to linger among them. It happened once that I went to lodge on one of these journeys with a Catholic kinsman. 1 I found him in hunters trim, ready to start for a grand hunt, for which many of his friends had met together. He asked me to go with him and try to gain over a certain gentleman who had married a cousin of his and mine. I answered that some other occasion would be more fit. He disagreed with me however, maintaining that unless I took this chance of going with him, I should not be able to get near the person in question. I went accordingly, and during the hunt joined company with him for whose soul I myself was on the hunt. The hounds being at fault from time to time, and ceasing to give tongue, while we were awaiting the renewal of this hunter's music, I took the opportunity of following my own chase, and gave tongue myself in good earnest. Thus, beginning to speak of the great pains that we took over chasing a poor animal, I brought the conversation to the necessity of seeking an everlasting kingdom, and the proper method of gaining it, to wit by employing all manner of care and industry; as the devil on his part never sleeps, but hunts after our souls as hounds after their prey. We said but little on disputed points of faith, for he was rather a schismatic than a heretic, but to move his will to act required a longer talk. This work was continued that day and the day after ; and on the fourth day he was spiritually born and made a Catholic. He still remains one, and often supports priests at home and sends them to other people.

" On an occasion of this kind there happened a very wonderful thing. He went once to visit a friend of his who was sick in bed. As he knew him to be an upright man, and one rather under a delusion than in wilful error, he began to instruct him in the faith, and press him at the same time to look to his soul, as his illness was dangerous. He at last prevailed with him, and was himself prevailed upon by the sick man to send for a priest to hear his confession. Accordingly, after instructing the invalid how to stir up in himself meanwhile sorrow for his sins and make ready his confession, the other went away. Not happening to have a priest at home at the time, he had some difficulty in finding one. In the meantime the sick man died, but evidently with a great desire of confession ; for he repeatedly asked whether that friend of his was coming who had promised to bring a physician with him, under which name priests often visit the sick. What followed seemed to show that his desires had stood him in good stead. Every night after his death there appeared to his wife in her chamber a sort of light flickering through the air and sometimes entering within the curtains. She was frightened, and ordered her maids to bring their beds into the room and stay with her; they however saw nothing, their mistress alone saw the appearance every night and was troubled at it. At last she sent for that Catholic friend of her husband, disclosed to him the whole cause of her fear, and asked him to consult some learned man. He asked a priest's advice, who answered that very probably this light meant that she should come to the light of faith. He returned with the answer, and won her over. The widow, on becoming a Catholic, had mass said in the same room for a long time, but still the same light appeared every night. This increased her trouble, so that the priest consulted other priests, and brought back an answer to the widow, that probably her husband's soul was on the way to Heaven, by reason of his true conversion of. heart and contrition accompanied with a desire of the sacrament, but still he stood in need of prayers to free him from his debts to God's justice. He bade her therefore have mass said for him thirty days, according to the old custom of the country. She took the advice, and herself communicated several times for the same intention. The night after the last mass had been celebrated in the room, she saw three lights instead of one as before. Two of them seemed to hold and support the third between them. All three entered within the bed-curtains, and after staying there a little while, mounted up towards Heaven through the top of the bed, leaving the lady in great consolation. She saw nothing of the sort again; from which all gathered that the soul had then been freed from its pains, and carried by the angels to Heaven. This took place in the county of Stafford.

"My journeys northwards were undertaken for the purpose of visiting, and strengthening in the faith, certain persons who there afforded no small aid to the common cause. Among them were two sisters of high nobility, daughters of an earl of very old family who had laid down his life for the Catholic faith. 2 They lived together, and manifested a great desire to have me not merely visit them sometimes, but rather stay altogether with them. Though this could not be, they gave themselves up entirely to my direction, that I might lead them to God. The elder [Lady Elizabeth Woodroff], who had a family, became a pillar of support to that portion of our afflicted Church. She kept two priests with her at home, and received all who came to her with great charity. There are numbers of priests in that part of the country, and many Catholics, mostly of the poorer sort. Indeed I was hardly ever there without our counting before my departure six or seven priests together in her house. Thus she gave great help to religion in the whole district during her abode there, which lasted till I was seized and thrown into prison; whereupon she was constrained by her husband to change her abode and go to London, a proceeding which did neither of them any good, and deprived the poor Catholics of many advantages. Her sister [Lady Mary Percy] was chosen by God for Himself. " I found her unmarried, humble, and modest. Gradually she was fitted for something higher. She learnt the practice of meditation; and profited so well thereby, that the world soon grew vile in her eyes, and Heaven seemed the only thing worthy of her love. I afterwards sent her to Father Holt in Belgium. He wrote to me on one occasion about her in these terms: ' Never has there come into these parts a country-women of ours that has given such good example, or done such honour to our nation/ She had the chief hand in the foundation of the present convent of English Benedictine Nuns at Brussels, 3 where she still lives, and has arrived to a great pitch of virtue and self-denial. She yearns for a more retired life, and has often proposed to her director to allow her to live as a recluse, but gives in to his reasons to the contrary. " At first I used to carry with me on these journeys my altar furniture, which was meagre but decent, and so contrived that it could be easily carried, along with several other necessary articles, by him who acted as my servant. In this way I used to say mass in the morning in every place where I lodged, not however before I had looked into every corner around, that there might be no one peeping in through the chinks. I brought my own things mainly on account of certain Catholics my entertainers not having yet what was necessary for the Holy Sacrifice. But after some years this cause was removed; for in nearly every place that I came to they had got ready the sacred vestments beforehand. Moreover I had so many friends to visit on the way, and these at such distances from one another, that it was hardly every necessary for me to lodge at an inn on a journey of one hundred and fifty miles; and at last I hardly slept at an inn once in two years."

1 William Wiseman, Richard Fulwood, and Ralph Willis, whose names soon reappear in the story, were with Father Gerard at Lady Gerard's house before Michaelmas, 1592. P.R.O., Domestic, Elizabeth, vol. ccxlviii. n. 103.

2 Thomas Percy, Earl of Northumberland, who was beheaded at York in l S72 , had four daughters: Elizabeth, wife of Richard Woodroff; Lucy, wife of Sir Edward Stanley ; Jane, wife of Lord Henry Seymour ; and Mary, the second Abbess of the English Benedictine Convent at Brussels.

3 This venerable community was transferred, in 1794, to Winchester, and in 1857 to East Bergholt in Suffolk. This was the first English Convent founded after the Reformation, and the first to come to England at the French Revolution.

Wednesday, 8 October 2014

The Life Of Fr John Gerard S.J. (A Hunted Priest) Part 11.

WORK IN ESSEX. 1592.
its very name indicates that it was an old English country place—is a house that still stands in the fields two miles from Wimbish Church in Essex. A century ago 1 there were some remains of the moat that surrounded it in the days when Father Gerard made it the head quarters of his missionary life. He continues his autobiography thus.

"When the house had been thus settled, I found time both for study and for missionary excursions. I took care that all in the house should approach the Sacraments frequently, which none before, save the good widow, used to do oftener than four times a year. Now they came every week. On feast days, and often on Sundays, I preached in the chapel; moreover I showed those who had leisure the way to meditate by themselves, and taught all how to examine their conscience. I also brought in the custom of reading pious books, which we did even at meals, when there were no strangers there; for at that time we priests sat with the rest, even with our gowns on. I had a cassock besides and a biretta, but the Superior would not have us use these except in the chapel.

"In my excursions I almost always gained some to God. There is however a great difference to be observed between these counties where I then was, and other parts common people are Catholics, and almost all lean towards the Catholic faith, it is easy to bring many into the bosom of the Church, and to have many hearers together at a sermon. I myself have seen in Lancashire two hundred together present at mass and sermon ; and as these easily come in, so also they easily scatter when the storm of persecution draws near, and come back again when the alarm has blown over. On the contrary, in those parts where I was now staying there were very few Catholics, but these were of the higher classes; scarcely any of the common people, for they cannot live in peace, surrounded as they are by most violent heretics. The way of managing in such places, is first to gain the gentry, then the servants : for Catholic masters cannot do without Catholic servants.

" About this time I gained to God and the Church my hostess 1 brother, the only son of a certain knight. I ever after found him a most faithful friend in all circumstances. He afterwards took to wife a cousin of the most illustrious Spanish Duke of Feria. This pious pair are so attached to our priests, that now in these terrible times they always keep one in their house, and often two or three."

His "hostess brother" was Henry, son of Sir Edmund Huddlestone 2 of Sawston in Cambridgeshire, who married Dorothy, daughter of Robert, first Lord Dormer, by his wife Elizabeth Browne, daughter of Anthony, first Viscount Montague. The " cousinship" with the Duke of Feria is by affinity and half-blood. Jane, daughter of Sir William Dormer, by his first wife Mary Sidney, married Don Gomez Suarez, Count of Feria; and Dorothy's father,-Robert Lord Dormer, was a son of Sir William by his second wife, Dorothy Catesby. 3
Henry Huddleston (c.1574-1657)

Henry Huddlestone was one of those who suffered by the Gunpowder Plot. He was arrested in Warwickshire, 4 and examined November 8, 1605, when he is called Henry Hurlestone 5 of Paswick, Essex. Mrs. Vaux wrote to Sir Richard Varney, Sheriff of Warwickshire, that Mrs. Huddlestone, who was with her, begged that her husband might go up to London with the Lord Lieutenant.6 Winter in his evidence exculpated him. 7 He was in the Marshalsea, where his wife asked access to him. In another examination, December 6, 1605, he says that he met Father Gerard, alias Brooke, at Mrs. Vaux's house 9 He took the news to Harrowden where Father Gerard was.10 On the 5th of February, 1607, the King wrote to Salisbury concerning the grant to Sir John Leigh of the forfeiture of Huddlestone in Essex, a recusant. 11

Father Gerard's next paragraph refers to the Rook-woods of Coldham in Suffolk. The "heir to a goodly estate, who was put to death on a charge of treason," was Ambrose Rookwood.who was executed for the Gunpowder Plot. " The devotion and resolute mind of this gentleman was very well known to many," Father Gerard says of him in his "Narrative of the Gunpowder Plot," 12 "and he was very much pitied, as he had been much beloved." The secular priest his brother was living in 1624, and is called by Gee "Townsend alias Ruckwood." Watson in the " Decachordon" mentions "Dorothy Ruckwood, Mr. Richard Ruckwood's daughter of Suffolk, who had a great portion given unto her by the Lady Elizabeth Drury her grandmother." Dorothy Rookwood was, it would seem, about two years in Belgium before she entered Religion, for she was professed at the Flemish Augustinian Convent of St. Ursula at Louvain, with Bridget Wiseman and Margaret Garnet, Father Henry Garnet's sister, on the 5th of June, 1595. She died " about the time the Dutch Mother was elected" in 1607, "very sweetly as she had lived, for she was a mild virtuous soul, sweet and affable in her conversation, and beloved of all her sisters." She did not therefore live long enough to be one of those sent out to found the English Convent of St. Monica's in 1609.

"It was in this same year [probably Father Gerard is speaking of 1592, the year in which St. Omers College was founded] that I sent into Belgium the daughter and three sons of a Catholic gentleman. The sister became a nun in the Order of St. Austin at Louvain, where she gave such edification both in life and death that she was the talk of all: nay, they still speak of her with wonder, and stick not to call her a saint. In fact how great her esteem and love was of religious life may be known from this, that she was ever most thankful for that little help in her vocation which she got from me. She had praised me so much beyond my due in that convent, that when I came to Louvain, numbers flocked to me. Nay, one of the Belgian Sisters, who had been especially dear to her while she was alive, had learnt the English language on purpose to make her confession to me, and others were trying to do the same. That this happened by the providence of God, I gather from the fact that it proved the salvation of some who otherwise would not have placed such trust in me. Her three brothers were among the first students of the Seminary of St. Omers. One, after finishing his studies well, died holily in Spain ; the second, who was heir to a goodly estate, was put to death by the heretics on a charge of treason f the third is still living and toiling in England, a learned and good priest, and a friend of our Fathers.

"Of my host's two sisters I have spoken before; but these I did not send till afterwards. I had previously persuaded their mother, the good widow [Jane Wiseman], to go to her own house and maintain there a priest whom I recommended, in order that so noble a soul and one so ready for all good deeds, might be a profit not only to herself but to many, as in fact she became. Her house was a retreat and no small protection both to ours and to other priests. She used moreover so to abound with joy when I or others came to her house, that sometimes she could not refrain from clapping her hands or some like sign of gladness; she was indeed ' a true widow,' given to all manner of good works, and especially occupied with zeal for souls.
Lady Penelope Devereux

"Indeed, besides others of less standing whom she brought me to be reconciled, she had nearly won over a certain great lady, a neighbour of hers. Though this lady was the wife of the richest 13 [Lady Penelope Devereux] lord in the whole county, and sister to the Earl of Essex (then most powerful with the Queen), and was wholly given to vanities, nevertheless she brought her so far as to be quite willing to speak with a priest, if only he could come to her without being known. This the good widow told me. I consequently went to her house openly, and addressed her as though I had something to tell her from a certain great lady her kinswoman, for so it had been agreed. I dined openly with her and all the gentry in the house, and spent three hours at least in private talk with her. I first satisfied her in all the doubts which she laid before me about faith; next I set myself to stir up her will, and before my departure I so wrought upon her, that she asked for instructions how to prepare herself for confession, and fixed a day for making it. Nay, she afterwards wrote to me earnestly protesting that she desired nothing in the world so much as to open to me the inmost recesses of her heart. But the judgments of God are a deep abyss, and it is a dreadful thing to expose oneself to the occasions of sin. Now there was a baron 14 in London who had loved her long and deeply ; to him she disclosed her purpose by letter, perchance to bid him farewell; but she roused a sleeping adder. For he hastened to her, and began to dissuade her in every kind of way; and being himself a heretic and not wanting in learning, he cunningly coaxed her to get him an answer to certain doubts of his from the same guide that she herself followed; saying that if he was satisfied in this, he too would become a Catholic. He implored her to take no step in the meantime, if she did not wish for his death. So he filled two sheets of paper about the Pope, the worship of saints, and the like. She sent them with a letter of her own, begging me to be so good as to answer them, for it would be a great gain if such a soul could be won over. He did not however write from a wish to learn, but rather with the treacherous design of delaying her conversion. For he got an answer, a full one I think, to which he made no reply. But meanwhile he endeavoured to get her to London, and succeeded in making her first postpone, and afterwards altogether neglect her resolution. By all this however he was unwittingly bringing on his own ruin : for later on, returning from Ireland laden with glory, on account of his successful administration, and his victory over the Spanish forces that had landed there (on which occasion he brought over the Earl of Tyrone, who had been the most powerful opponent of heresy in that country, and most sturdy champion of the ancient faith), he was created earl by his present Majesty ; and though conqueror of others, he conquered not himself, but was kept a helpless captive by his love of this lady. This madness of his brought him to commit such extravagancies that he became quite notorious, and was publicly disgraced. Unable to endure this dishonour, and yet unwilling to renounce the cause of it, he died of grief, invoking, alas, not God, but this goddess, 'his angel/ as he called her, and leaving her heiress of all his property. Such was his miserable end, dying in bad repute of all men. The lady, though now very rich, often afterwards began to think of her former resolution, and often spoke of me to a certain Catholic maid of honour that she had about her. This latter coming into Belgium about three years back to become a nun, related this to me, and begged me to write to her and fan the yet unquenched spark into a flame. But when I was setting about the letter, I heard that she had been carried off by a fever, not however before she had been reconciled to the Church by one of ours. I have set this forth at some length, that the providence of God with regard to her whose conversion was hindered, and His judgment upon him who was the cause of the hindrance, may more clearly appear."

" It [Braddocks] seems to have been formerly moated round, and two sides of the moat remain at present." Morant, History of Essex,] London, 1768, vol. ii. p. 559.

2 "While the house at Sawston was erecting, Sir Edmund resided on his estates in Essex, and served the office of Sheriff for that county in 20, 21 [1578-9] and 30 Elizabeth" [1588]. Burke's Landed Gentry, 1850, vol. 1. p. 602.

3 Burke's Peerage.

4 P.R.O., Gunpowder Plot Book, n. 75.

Ibid. Domestic, James I., vol. xvi. n. 31.

6 Ibid. n. 227.

7 Ibid. n. 146.

Ibid. vol. xvii. n. 14.

9 Ibid. vol. xix. n. 43.

10 Ibid. n. 13.

11 Ibid. vol. xxvi. n. 44.

12 Condition of Catholics, p. 221.

13 Lady Penelope Devereux, daughter of Walter first Earl of Essex, wife of Robert third Lord Rich, afterwards Earl of Warwick.

14 Charles Blount, eighth Baron Mountjoy, who in 1603 was created Earl of Devonshire. He was married December 26, 1605, to Lady Rich, after her divorce and in the lifetime of her husband. The Earl of Devonshire died in a few months after this marriage, April 3, 1606.