Iane the wife of Robert Oguier, and Mar­tin her sonne, Martyrs.

THe wife here followes her husband, and ac­companies her sonne: her conversion is ad­mirable; for being severed from him, the Friers having seduced her laboured with her to turne her some also out of the right way; but he un­derstanding thereof recovers his mother againe, [Page 4] and so they both gaue their lives for the truth, to the great confusion of their enemies.

But before we come to describe their happy ends, we will, as briefely as may be, note by the way the great conflicts of spirit which both of them sustained.

There were sent unto them many of the popish rabble, to turne them from their faith. Now that this their devillish enterprise might the rather be effected, they sundred one of them from the other, 10 so as by the politique deuice of a Monke, the poore woman began to waver, and let goe her first faith. At this their enemies rejoyced not a little, whilest the poore little flocke of Christ, hearing such sad newes, were in continuall perplexity, but the Lord left them not in this mournfull condition.

For on a day one of the Monkes resorted to her in the prison, counselling her to win her sonne Martin, and to draw him from his errors: which she promised to doe. But when he was come to 20 his Mother, and perceiued that she was not onely fallen, but also quite turned out of the right way, he began with teares to bewayle her miserable estate.

O Mother, saith he, what have you done? Have you denyed him who hath redéemed you? Alas, what evill hath he done you, that you should re­quite him with this so great an iniury and disho­nour. Now I am plunged into that woe, which I have most feared. Ah good God, that I should live 30 to sée this, which pierceth me to the very heart.

His Mother hearing these his pittifull com­plaints, and séeing the teares which her sonne shed for her, began againe to renue her strength in the Lord, and with teares cryed out, O Father of mercies, be mercifull unto me miserable sinner, and cover my transgression under the righteous­nesse of thy blessed Sonne; Lord enable me with strength from above, to stand to my first confessi­on, and make me to abide stedfast therein even un­to 40 my last breath.

It was not long after this her change, but the same instruments of Satan, who had seduced her, came in, supposing to finde her in the same minde wherein they left her: whom she no sooner espied, but with detestation said, Avoyd Satan. get thee behinde me: for henceforth thou hast neither part nor portion in me. I will by the help of God stand to my first confession; And if I may not signe it with Inke, I will seale it with my blood. 50 And so from that time this fraile vessell, who for a while relented, after her recovery grew stronger and stronger.

The Iudges séeing their constancy, delayed not to dispatch them out of the way, condemning them to be burned alive, and their bodies being reduced to ashes, the same to be scattered and dispersed in the aire. The mother and the sonne having heard their sentence read, in the way as they were go­ing backe againe to prison, said, now blessed be our God, who causeth us thus to triumph over 60 our enemies: This is the wished houre, our glad­some day is come. Let us not then, said Martin, forget to be thankefull for the honour he doth us, in thus conforming us unto the Image of his Sonne. Let us remember those who have traced this path before us: for this is the high way to the Kingdome of heaven. Let us then good Mo­ther goe on boldly out of the Campe with the Son Heb. 13. 13. of God, bearing his reproach, with all his holy Martyrs; for so we shall finde passage into the 70 glorious Kingdome of the everliving God.

Some of the company hearing, but not being able to brooke these words, said, we sée now thou heretique that thou art wholly possessed body and soule with a divell, as was thy father and brother who are both in Hell. Martin said, Sirs, as for your railings and cursings, our God will this day turne them into blessings in the sight of him­selfe and of all his holy Angels.

A certaine temporizer said to Martin, thou sil­ly See here the sundry [...]ights of Satan. youth thou sayest thou knowest not what; thou art too well conceited of thy selfe and of thy cause. Séest thou not all this people here about thée? what thinkest thou of them? they beléeve not as thou doest, and yet I doubt not but they shall be saved. But you imagine to doe that which will never come to passe, though you pretend never so much that you are in the faith, and have the Scrip­tures for you.

The good woman hearing this, answered, Sir, Christ Iesus our Lord saith, that it is the wide gate and broad way which leades to destruction, Mat. 7. 12. and therefore many gooe in thereat: but the gate, saith he, is narrow that leades to life, and few How we may know we are in the right way. there be that finde it. Doe ye then doubt whether we are in the straight way or no, when ye behold our sufferings? would you have a better signe then this, to know whether we are in the right way or no? Compare our Doctrine with that of your Priests and Monkes: we for our parts are determined to have but one Christ and him cruci­fied; we onely embrace the Scriptures of the old and new Testament. Are we deceived in belée­ving that which the holy Prophets and Apostles have taught?

One of the Fryers turning towards Martin, said, youngman, be well advised; for thy father and thy brother have acknowledged the seven Sa­craments of the Church together with us: and thou poore silly youth hast heard some wicked He­retique who hath deluded thée: thinkest thou thy selfe wiser then so many learned Doctors as have lived in so many ages? Martin answered, I pray you Sir, doth not Christ our Lord tell us, that his Father hath hid the secrets of his Kingdome from the wise and prudent, and revealed them to Mat. 11. 25. Iob 5. 13. babes? And doth not the Lord oftentimes catch the wise in their owne craftinesse?

And whereas you say my Father and Brother have confessed seven Sacraments, I well per­ceive by this that I ought not to give credit to ought you say; knowye not that the Devill is the father of lies, and all liers? Is it not sufficient that I acknowledge so many Sacraments as God himselfe hath instituted and ordained, to wit, Baptisme and the Supper of the Lord?

Then came there into the prison two men of great authority in the City of Lisle, the one cal­led Mounsieur Barras, the other Beaufremes, who promised Martin great matters, if he would recant and returne to the Roman Church. Beaufremes among other spéeches said thus un­to him, Young man, I have compassion on thy tender yéeres, if thou wilt be ruled by us, I will 100 [...] amount to two hun­dred crownes: but this faith­full Martyr of Christ was not like Iudas, who for love of mo­ney sold his Master. promise thée thou shalt not die this shamefull death: moreover, I will give thée one hundred pounds sterling.

Martin gave him this answere. Sir, you pre­sent before me many temporall commodities: but alas, doe you thinke me so simple, as to forsake an eternall Kingdome for enioying of a short transi­tory life? No sir, it is too late to speake to me now of worldly commodities, but of those spiritu­all, which God hath prepared for me today in his Kingdome: nor doe I purpose to hearken after any other: onely, I pray you let me crave one houres respite to give my selfe to prayer, and cal­ling upon the Name of my God: for you know now it is eight daies since my father departed this world, and hitherto I have scarce enioyed an hours rest; That which I have had, hath rather béen to slumber in, then have any quiet sléepe, having con­tinually had eight or nine persons invironing me about, and talking unto me.

After these great men were forced to goe even [Page 5] as they came, Martin declared the effect of this his combat to certaine Brethren who were there detained with him in prison; saying moreover, Let us lift up our heads Brethren, the brunt is over, this I hope is their last assault; forget not, I pray you, the holy doctrine of the Gospell, nor those good lessons which you have learned from our Brother Guy. It is very likely hee meanes Guy de Brez a godly Mini­ster, of whom you shall read more, God willing, here­after. Manifest it now to all, that you have received them not only into your eares, but also into your hearts; follow me, we leade 10 you the way; feare not, God will never leave nor forsake you: farewell Brethren, said he, and so departed from them.

Soone after Martin and his mother were bound and brought to the place of their Martyr­dome: His mother having ascended the scaffold, cryed to Martin, Come up, Come up my sonne. And as he was speaking to the people, she said, Speake out Martin, saith she, that it may ap­peare to all, that we die not Heretiques. Martin 20 would have made a confession of his faith, but could not be suffered. His mother being bound to the stake, spake in the hearing of the Spectators, We are Christians, and that which we now suf­fer is not for murther or theft, but because we will beléeve no more than that which the Word of God teacheth us: Both reioycing that they were counted worthy to suffer for the same.

The fire being kindled, the vehemency thereof did nothing coole or abate the fervency of their 30 zeale, but they continued constant in the faith, and with lifting up their hands to heaven, in an holy accord said, Lord Iesus into thy hands we The happy death of the mother and her sonne. commend our spirits. And thus they blessedly slept in the Lord. These were the fruits which these holy assemblies in the City of Lisle brought forth. None néed to enquire whether the rest were suffered to live in peace; for what other spectacles were to be espied in the high waies and fields, but poore fugitives flying hither and thither, for safe­gard 40 of their lives. So great was the cruelty which was then and there exercised among them: and yet, when all is done, God will be glorified in his Saints and children.

¶ Iohn Rebec, Martyr, burned at Aniers in France, the 24 of Aprill, 1556.

THis Robert had his tongue cut out because he 50 A Martyrs tongue cut out for refu­sing to call upon the vir­gin Mary. would not pronounce Iesus Maria, to joyne them both in one prayer; for being urged there­unto with great threats, he boldly answered, that if his tongue should but offer to utter those words at their bidding, himselfe would bite it asunder with his téeth.

¶ Bartholomew Hector, Martyr, was bur­ned 60 according to the sentence of the par­liament of Turin in Piedmont, in the yeer 1556. Iune the 19.

BEing called before Authority to be examined' The Mar­tyr would not answer the Adversa­ry till he had first craved assistance from God. he would answer them to nothing before he had made his prayer to God. Whereupon falling downe there on his knées, he besought him to open his mouth, and to direct his spéech onely to utter 70 that which might tend to his honor and glory, and to the edification of his Church. Afterwards, when he was bound to the stake, gunpowder and brimstone was brought to be placed about him, he lifing up his eyes to heaven, and saying, Lord, how sweet and welcome is this to me?

¶ Charles Covincke, or le Roy de Gand, once Anno 1557. a Friar Carmelite at Gand in Flanders, was apprehended and executed at Bruges in the same Countrey, Anno 1557. Aprill 27.

BEing perswaded by his brother to returne Charles would none of his popish habit which he had once rejected. againe to his Order, and take upon him his fryers habit; he made him this direct answer, what néeds that, saith he? now I have cast off that po­pish wéed I will never resume it againe. Christ hath now set me frée, I will be no longer of the Order of the slaves of Satan.

One of the Magistrates of Bruges conferring with him, promised to procure his deliverance if he would yéeld but a little; and if his fryers coate displeased him, he would get him a dispensatton from the Pope to forbeare the wearing of it, and provide him a Canonship. Sir, said Charles, I give you many thankes for your good will and these your kinde offers: would to God I could ac­cept of them without offending his Maiesty; you offer me a Canonship, that I might live quietly and in security; but know you sir, That rest is That is not worthy the name of rest which is pro­cured with offence of con­science. A judgement of God upon a persecutor. no true rest and quietnsse which is obtained against the peace of a good conscience?

A few dayes after his execution, one of them, who had his hand déepest in procuring his cruell death, died himselfe in such terror and horror of conscience, that it gave sufficient testimony to those of Brugoes, that they had put to death an Innocent, and that God was highly offended with those that had persecuted him.

¶ Philibert Hamelin of Tournay, Minister and Martyr, was there executed in the yeere 1557.

WHilest he remained prisoner some of his friends dealt with him to breake prison, and offered him meanes tending thereto. But he on the contrary, having resolved to give his life for so just a quarrell as he maintained, refused, saying, I esteeme it altogether unbeseeming for a Preachers must be no breakers of prisons. man that is called to preach Gods Word to others, to run away and breake prison for fear of danger, but rather to maintaine the Truth taught even in the midst of the flaming fire.

After sentence of death was passed upon him by the court, whereby he knew he had not long to live, yet did he eat his dinner with the rest of the prisoners as joyfully as though he had béen in no A good consci­ence is a con­tinuall feast. danger, speaking unto them of the happinesse of eternall life, comforting all that sate at table with him in the Consciergery.

That none might hear what he said at the place of execution, the trumpets were caused to be soun­ded continually; yet might it be séene, both by his gestures and chéerefulnesse of his countenance, that they could not let him from speaking to God.

¶ Archambant Seraphon, Martyr, in the yeere 1557.

BEing demanded what he thought of the Pope and his authority, he answered, I think verily A practise of the Papists. that same is he of whom Saint Paul speakes in his second Epistle to the Thessalonians, Chapter the second. Which words he being willed to signe with his hand; Yea, yea sir, said he, I am now [Page 6] ready to signe it with my blood rather than with Inke.

Hee reports in a Letter written to his wife The Mar­tyrs ready to scale the truth with their blood. A Iaylor of a Lyon became a Lamb. and friends, that whereas this Iaylor was wont to carry himselfe as sternly towards him as a Lyon, roaring alwaies in such wise upon him that all the prisoners were amased at it, the Lord had now so mollified his heart, that he became as méek as a Lambe, declaring how he would come and visite him himselfe in his prison, and as well 10 as he was able comforted him, saying, Take no care, God will assist you; nor shall it be so ill with you as you thinke for. For what doe your ene­mies say, Alas he is but a silly pedler, who, passing along this way, broached his opinions to none: that also which he holds concerning the same, he keepes to himselfe; therefore be of good cheere. Sir, said he, I praise God I am of good comfort, being ready to receive whatsoever it shall please him to appoint; If life, life; if death, death be it.

One thing I had like to have omitted concer­ning 20 him, which yet is worth the noting, namely, this.

This Archambant, in a letter to his wife, puts An exhortati­on to get the Psalmes without booke. his brethren in minde to learn Davids Psalms; My brethren, saith he, I exhort you in the Name of God, that you would learne, yea, learne the Psalmes without booke whilest you have time and leasure; for when you shall be cast into dark prisons (I say when God shall call you to suffer for his sake) you shall then have no booke with 30 you, whether of a small or great Print, to sée what part succeeds another, which I now utter to my great griefe and shame; for if I should tell you I lacked forewarning long agoe, you can beare witnesse to the contrary: Nor doe I know now what to doe, but even to humble my selfe before the Lord, crying unto him, Mercy, mercy, Lord have mercy upon me. Blessed and happy are they who are carefull to get knowledge and faith, 40 as oyle into their vessels, before the Bridegroome come.

When he looked on his hands, he was wont to say, ô flesh, thou must suffer and be turned in­to ashes, untill the last day.

Ieffery Vergale Martyr in the yeare 1557. He was burned at Turin the last of De­cember. 50

STanding upon a stoole at the stake, the execu­tioner according to the custome prayed him to forgive him his death.

Ieffery answered him, I not onely forgive thee, but those also who first imprisoned me at Burges, yea, those that brought me to this City, and have condemned me to this death. Be not afraid, doe thine office, my death shall not be un­profitable. 60 The death of the Martys is not with­out fruit.

Nicolas Ieuville Martyr in the yeere 1557. who with two others mentioned hereafter were burned in the place called Mawbert without Paris in France.

THis godly Martyr being condenmed to be burned alive, and his tongue to be cut out, the Tormentor being there present offered to put the 70 halter about his necke, but he repulsed him twice, appealing from the Sentence. But because he was pressed upon to receive it the third time, and thinking his appeale would not take place, he took it, saying; Praysed be God, for I am now counted worthy to be one of the heavenly Or­der.

Two innocents condemned to suffer death, the one of them being called Henry the Taylor.

THis Henry reioyced at the hearing of the These two were burnt at Antwerpe. The Mar­tyrs willing­ly give their necks to the blocke, but left the pu­nishment to their perse­cutors. sentence read, saying, This is the day we have long expected, and therefore give our selves willingly to die, but as for the punishment, my masters, that we leave to you: yet we pray that God would pardon you this injustice.

At which spéeches the Magistrates turned a­way their faces not willing to heare it; but Adrian, who was the other Martyr, told them boldly, That God would require the blood of the iust at their hands whom they daily put to death.

The next day being appointed for their executi­on, a great multitude were assembled into the Market place, to be hold the behaviour of these good­ly men, who, as they were led to death, protested. That the cause why they dyed, was only for bea­ring witnesse to the truth of the Gospell, which words they uttered with such courage, that the of­ficers, who invironed them round about, strove to damp the same by a great noise; which they made, lest their voice should be understood. Whilest the executioner fastened them to the stake, there was on an instant such an hurlyburly amongst the peo­ple, that with one voice they cryed, Kill, kill, rush­ing There were they in great feare, where no feare was, for as saith the Psalmist, God is in the generation of the righteous. Psal. 14. 5. one in upon another. By and by the shops and doores of houses were shut up. The hangman let fall all his preparations, leaving the two pati­ents standing at the stake. The Margrave be­ing on horseback could by no meanes get away, being compassed in on each side. The Officers trembling for feare threw downe their halberds. The spy who attended there to hearken, not know­ing where to bestow himselfe, forsook his horse, and ran into a Church for feare.

And though one told him that a cutpurse had caused all this adoe, he would not be drawn to be­léeve him, but said, I know we are but dead men; it is not the Théefe, but the seditious people who now begin to work their revenge. Thus God confounded these bloodthirsty, shewing how he could have brought all their preparations to no­thing if it had pleased him.

As soon as this hubbub was quieted, the ser­vant of the executioner ran and strangled the two Martyrs, who had now a good space béen fa­stened to the stake, still calling upon the name of the Lord. The fire being afterward kindled, the bodies were consumed to ashes the 19. of Ianua­ry, 1559.

A Recantation fathered upon a Martyr cal­led Cornelius Hallewin, which he never consented to, and how he tooke the same, in the yeare 1559.

THe father of this Cornelius, solliciting the Margraue & his wife (who as it was thought was Godmother to Cornelius) to get his sonne out of prison; It was so agréed among them, that a libell should be framed vnder the name of Cor­nelius, wherein he should now acknowledge his error, be confessed to a Priest, would also receiue his Maker, and come againe into the state of grace, as a good childe of his holy mother the Church. And further should say, That Sermons were of no worth, because they were not made upon holy ground. Also requiring that if hée [Page 7] had failed in ought else, the same should be attri­buted Anno 1559. to his young yeares, and therefore craued pardon. Howbeit the said Cornelius wrote let­ters daily in the meane while to the brethren, shewing forth an admirable constancy in defend­ing the faith; gladding the hearts of many, who gaue God thankes for the graces of his good Spirit wherewith he had indued him.

The Minister of the Flemish Church hearing of this Libell, by the meanes of some friends, got 10 a Copy thereof, and hauing read it, considering how the tenor thereof tended to a great scandall, made the Elders and Deacons of the Church ac­quainted therewith, who were not a little grieued for the infirmity of their weake brother. Where­upon, the Minister wrote a sharpe letter vnto him, willing him to turne and repent him of his backe sliding, by making a true Confession there­of before the councel. When Cornelius had recei­ued this letter, & read it, he was so vexed & perplex­ed 20 in his spirit, that he knew not how to demean himselfe, so as all the godly his Prison fellowes had much adoe to stay and comfort him. The blood gushed out of his nose, hée spread abroad his armes, and made pitifull outcries. What, to deny the truth (said he) God forbid? Oh that the faithfull should conceiue so hardly of me! Good God thou knowest that I am guiltlesse, nor haue I this way offended. Then the residue of the bre­thren aduised him to get a sight of his inditement, 30 which if it contained no such thing, then to send it to the Church, and so manifest to them his inno­cency touching that whereof he was accused: be­sides, making a plaine confession of his faith, to impart the same to the Councell, & there withall to shew how he was abused by the Margraue and his Parents, which he accordingly did.

The said Cornelius being condemned to die, the Margraue offered him so much more fauour as to die a more easie kinde of death, if he would 40 but giue eare to the priests whom he had brought with him into the prison. Cornelius replied, no Sir, God forbid I should do such a thing: doe ye with my body what ye will. As they bound him, & Herman Ianssen (who both suffered together) Herman willed the Margraue to take héed what he did: for, saith he, this will not goe for paiment in Gods sight in bereauing vs thus of our liues. I wish you to repent therefore before it be too late, you cannot long continue this tyrannous 50 course, for the Lord will shortly auenge it. The Margraue commanded they should haue a crosse or crucifixe put into their hands, promising Corne­lius that if he would so doe, he should only be be­headed and not burned: but they both reiected the Crosse, saying: They would not give the least signe that might be of betraying the truth, and that it was all one to them what death they put them to, so they dyed in and for the Lord. The punishment, they said, could last but for a while, 60 but the glory to come was eternall.

Then were they led towards the Market place, and Herman reioycing in the Lord sung the hun­dred and thirtieth Psalme. Cornelius followed him, and gaue the people godly exhortations. Be­ing come to the place of execution, the sword was laid there ready to behead them, if they would take the Crosse into their hands, and admit the Friers into their company: But because they would not yéeld one whit vnto them, wood was 70 made ready to burne them. Then Cornelius fell on his knées, praying God to forgiue his ene­mies who had sinned through ignorance. After which they were put into a little lodge made of fa­gots, and strangled at the stake. But whilest this was a doing, there fell out such a tumult amongst the people, that they were not a little afraid of an vprore; the hangman be caught hold of his sword to defend himselfe, thinking they would kill him first; but the businesse was as suddenly quieted as raised. The fire being kindled flamed forth vp­on the bodies of these holy Martyrs. The Mar­graue thought according to the vsuall course to haue quenched the fire, that so conueying the bo­dies away halfe burnt, they might be laid upon the whéeles nigh vnto the city, in the accustomed places where they were to lie, as spectacles to be gazed on. But the peoples wrath being stirred crossed him in his purpose, so as his Serieants and Halberdiers leauing him, he stood as one a­stonished causing the executioner to finish out the rest of this Tragedy.

Notes upon the occasion of a sedition at Paris, the fifth of March 1559.

THe fifth day of March, there was a great vp­rore raised in the church of Saint Innocents in Paris. The preachers all the Lent neuer cea­sed to moue the people to kill all the Lutherans they could méet withall, & not leaue the executi­on thereof to the Magistrates. Amongst the rest a Minorite, who preached in the said Church, spent all his Sermons upon that subiect. The same day taking his text out of the eight of Saint Iohns Gospel concerning the woman taken in adultery being brought to Iesus Ch: he vttered execrable things against the Magistrate: shewing that it was no wonder if the Iudges did not cast the first stone at the Lutherans, because they themselues were also Lutherans; and therefore the people were not to attend them any longer, but to rise & make open war against them, yea, upon the chief­est of them, which were but suspected to hold that doctrine. In this garboile a poore Priest (with a brother of his, a Captain, passing by, and thinking by faire language to pacifie the disordered tu­mult) had his foot no sooner out of the Church dore, but he was set upon by this blood-thirsty crue, who although he asked forgiuenesse in the name of the Saints, desiring to be confessed, and And thus thinking to martyr the Christians, by the proui­dence of God, it fell on those of their owne side. shewed all outward signes of being one of their owne side, yet could he of this headlesse beast the multitude obtaine no fauour, but was stabbed in­to the belly with a dagger, and fell downe dead. And yet they were not satisfied so, but the very meanest among them had a blow at him, raking with their hands in his wounds, and then in Tri­umph lifting him vp, bragged that they had ba­thed their hands in the blood of a Lutheran.

The Captain with much adoe getting into the Vicars house, they beset the house lest he should escape their fingers. And hearing that the ma­gistrate was comming to deliuer him, they fea­red not with one voice to say, that they would spare none, no not the King himselfe though hée came in his owne person. If any more pitifull than the rest vttered but so much as the least word tending to compassion, they were cruelly handled on all sides, so as many met with hard vsage euen for that.

Not fully a yeare before this, there fell out the like, if not a worse spectacle of cruelty in the Church of Saint Eustate.

For a Doctor of the Sorbonists, commonly called the soule of Picardy, who in his sermons preached out nothing but fire and fagots, incou­raged the Parisians to slaughter the Luthe­ranes, making many goodly promises to all such as would vndertake such a bloody designe: which was not so soone propounded, as accepted of by the people. For a poore scholler, who out of deuotion was present at the sermon, happen­ing (upon some accident) to laugh at his fel­low Pupill; an old turnecoate sitting by and [Page 8] observing it cryed out forthwith, that a Luthe­rane mocked the Preacher. The people at the sound of this voice began to stir, not knowing upon what ground: and haling him out of the Church miserably massacred him, till they had forced both his eyes out of his head, buffeting him with their fists; and one among the rest caused his horse to trample upon him thrice.

Iohn Barbeville of Normandy being questi­oned by thrée of the Counsell about the sacra­ment, 10 answered, that in the holy Supper being administred according to Christs institution, hée received by faith the body and blood of the Lord, but not after any carnall manner; forasmuch as being now ascended into heaven, hée shall See here what mock [...] gods these be who cōdemne the poore chri­stians. not returne thence, till he come to iudge the quicke and the dead. Upon which article one of the Counsell added this scoffe, which ascended in­to heaven, and drew the ladder up after him.

Upon some occasion they said unto him that he 20 was but a silly asse, and therefore could not un­derstand the Scriptures. Well saith he, be it that I am an asse, yet did you never reade, that God opened the mouth of the Prophet Balaams Asse A resorting speech well applyed. to reprove him, for loading him with stripes when he was going to utter his lies against the Chil­dren of God? If God opened the Asses mouth, doe yée now wonder if he opens mine, to cause me to speake against the falsehood and lies which you spread abroad against the people of God? 30 For as the Asse spake being overchanged with blowes, which the false Prophet gave him, so now in regard of the heavie burden wherewith in times past you have oppressed me by your tra­ditions, I am constrained to speak as I doe.

Another inquisitor a Monke called Benedict told him that he was come to comfort and instruct him in the truth. How can you, said Barbeville, say, you come to instruct me in the truth, when your selfe doth weare the habit of a lyar? I can­not 40 expect it from you; for no man can gather figs of thistles, nor grapes of thornes.

¶ God so wrought here, and the truth so prevailed, that though it was plainly confessed, yet the Prisoners were deliver­ed, Anno 1559. 50

THe court of the parliament of Paris, willing to moderate the cruelties used against those of the reformed religion, sollicited them what they could, to dissemble and to yéeld in some points; wherein the well minded of that side were not yet rightly informed: but to this their aduice they would by no meanes consent. Then they tooke another course, and that was simply to examine 60 them touching the manner of eating Christs bo­die in the Sacrament, without mentioning Tran­substantiation, or any carnall presence; hoping this way to frée them from the crime of sacramen­taries, upon which point for the most part the sen­tence of death was pronounced: séeing they had heard formerly from the prisoners, That the chur­ches of France held, how the body of Christ was receiued by the faithfull not in imagination, but truly and indéed, and that the signes were neither 70 naked nor empty elements, but exhibited that whereof they were signes.

This was propounded to foure yong men who were in the flowre of their age, and lying prisoners in the Consciergerie of the palace, if it might be, to satisfie them. Now when this confession was presented to the Court, all that were well affected were glad of it, in regard it was drawne so favo­rably; some being of opinion that it would work their deliverance. Others there were which op­posed this proiect, and requested they might be examined what they thought of the Masse, it be­ing so necessarie an article; provided, that there might be some moderation in the ordinary course of such interrogations. Notwithstanding it was thought, that this would rather hinder than fur­ther their deliverance; yet did the better part per­sist in their purpose of fréeing them.

Being therefore asked again what they thought of the Masse, they answered, that they would stand to their first confession. It was replyed, That the Court would rest satisfied with that answer, if so be they would now only go to Masse. But with one voice they affirmed, that they would never yéeld to come there where God was so dishonou­red. The Court, to make it appeare that no ad­vantage should be taken against them for this their answer, gave them leave severally to shew their reasons. This pleased the prisoners well, and therefore they spared not to paint forth the Masse in its lively colours; that all might perceive there was cause sufficient why they should detest it.

First, one of them by way of opposition shew­ed The Masse deciphered in its colours. how contrary the Masse was to the Lords sup­per. The second declared, it was blasphemy to affirme, that there was any other propitiatory sacrifice for sinnes then the blood of Christ. The third avouched, that if the article of Transub­stantiation (whereon the Masse depends) were al­lowed, Christ his deity and his humanity should be abolished, and therefore it must be flat idolatry to worship Almighty God in a corruptible péece of paste. The fourth told them, that the fruits of the Sacramant could not be received where the Word was not joyned with the signe, where one of the signes were withheld, or where there was no Communion.

Thus was the Masse anatomised, with the ab­hominations thereof, with all boldnesse; so as some of the Iudges were constrained to averre openly, that there was a great abuse in it indéed, being a manifest wrong done to the institution of Christ; as also that the Laity were there depri­ved of the Cup, and the Bread only given, the whole being performed in a language which the poore people understood not.

It was beyond the expectation of all men, that so frée a confession would have passed for currant in that place, in which whosoever came before them formerly, and made the like, was condemned to die. But now the Truth so prevailed, that against all hope and ordinary procéedings in times past, yea, contrary to the mindes of those which were Gods chiefest enemies, the order was this, That howsoever sentence of death had béen pronounced against thrée others of this company, by the infe­riour judges, yet these foure should have their lives saved; provided, that they departed the countrey Foure wit­nesses of the truth gently entreated by their Iudges. within fiftéene daies. Which exception, though it favoured of some injustice, yet was it nothing in comparison of the former cruelties; and this ba­nishment turned rather for a benefit to them than an hurt, for by this meanes they had liberty to go to such places where God was purely served.

¶ The story of Peter Chevet, Martyr.

BEing asked whether he durst affirme that he He was in outward ap­pearance a sil­ly poore man, a vinedresser, of the age of 60. years and upwards. had the spirit of God? Yea, said he, for I am one of Gods children, and therefore have the spirit of God given unto me, as the earnest of my adoption.

It is to be feared, said some, that you will bring your selfe in danger of the law, and so be burned. [Page 9] Truly, said he, I doe not thinke to escape better cheape; and though you scortch and rost me alive, yet will I never renounce Iesus Christ. Is it not written, He that shall confesse me before men, him will I confesse before my Father which is in Mat. 10. 32. heaven, &c? Being asked whether he desired not to be absolved, confessed, and to receive pardon, having stood excommunicate now thrée yeares; he answered, I confesse my faults every day to my God, but where is that goodly absolver that will 10 take upon him to pardon me? The Officiall an­swering, said, That is even I. Now poore man, said Peter, it is a question whether thou canst save thy selfe, and wilt thou take upon thée then to save others? The Officiall finding himselfe galled with this answer, threatned him with lon­ger imprisonment. Alas, alas, saith he, though I should rot in prison, yet shall you still finde me the same man.

Being come to the place where he was to suf­fer, 20 the Executioner would not take the paines to Hee could say the new Te­stament by heart, & was so prompt therein in all his answers, that the peo­ple who heard him, said if hee were suffered to speake, hee would con­vert all the City of Pa­ris. helpe him from off the cart, but tumbled him downe with his head forward. Notwithstanding all this and other cruelties, he manfully overcame the same with invincible constancy. And when they pulled off his cloathes, he was heard to say intelligibly, How happy, how happy, ô how hap­py am I? with his eyes still lifted up to heaven.

He was burned in the place called Maubert, nigh to the city of Paris, the 11. of March, 1559. 30

¶ A notable speech uttered by Anne du Burg Counsellor for the King in Parlia­ment, in the moneth of Iune, An. 1559.

AMong the rest there was a Counsellor called Anne du Burg [...] a man of singular understan­ding and knowledge, bred and nursed up in the bosome of the Church of Christ. This man ha­ving 40 rendred thankes to God, for mooving the Kings heart to be present at the decision of so waighty a cause as that of religion is, and having exhorted him well to consider thereof, being the cause of Christ himselfe, which of good right ought to be maintained by Princes, spake boldly therto, as God gave him utterance; It is not, saith he, a matter of small consequence, to condemne such as in the middest of the fiery flames call upon the name of Iesus Christ. This I doe but note here 50 by the way, because the consequence is touched before by Master Iohn Foxe, where he menti­ons the terrible end of such as were persecutors of the truth.

Only one thing more touching the said Anne du Burg I could not here omit, and it is this. A certaine woman being prisoner (for the same cause) right over against him, had a little window in her chamber which opened towards that where In the Histo­ry of the mar­tyrs mention is made of one Peter Arun­deau, whose cōstancy was so admirable in suffering the extremity of death, that it was the meanes to imbolden this worthy coun­sellor Anne Du Burg with others to suffer for the cause of the Gospell. Master du Burg lay; from whence either by 60 words or signes (when she was not otherwise letted) she encouraged him to persevere constant­ly in the truth; by whom he was so comforted, that the same du Burg, being importuned by some of his friends to recant, used these words, nay, I trow not, said he, for a woman hath taught me my lesson, how I ought to carry my selfe in this businesse to which God hath called me, fée­ling in himselfe as it séemed the force and power of the godly admonitions of this poore woman.

Whose godly zeale was such, as that her story 70 may not (as I thinke) be well omitted, but fully set downe as I finde it recorded in the volume of the French Martyrs. Her name was Margaret Rich, who suffered the ninetéenth of August in the place called Maubert, not far from the City of Paris in France.

Christian women, saith the Historian, behold here the courage and zeale of this Margaret your sister, who is set before you for a patterne to uni­tate: she encouraged both great and small, who at that same time were prisoners with her.

Margaret Rich was born in Paris, the Wife of Anthony Ricant Bookseller, dwelling in Paris in the place called the Mount of Saint Hillary, at the signe of the great Quaile. This woman was as vertuously disposed as could be; shée had gotten some small insight into the mystery of ini­quity, by meanes of her husband, who yet suffer­ed her to observe the superstitions of Popery, without urging her any further; for he was a man indifferent in the matter of Gods service: but yet her conscience gave her, that knowing her course to be evill, it was not sufficient to forsake that, unlesse shée did cleave to the contrary good which leads to life and salvation, namely to serve God according to his Word. Vnderstanding then, that there were godly méetings of good Christi­ans, which assembled together in the City, shée found the meanes to come in amongst them, and profited so well thereby, that she resolved in her self never to goe again to the Masse, but to die rather.

At length being hardly used by her husband because of this her sudden change, hée threatned her so far as to carry her himselfe to the Masse, (the next day which was Easter-Sunday) rather than that shée should not goe. After shée had en­dured much from this man who would have her to play the dissembler, shée to preserve her selfe therefrom, being also afraid of her husbands fury, upon Easter day withdrew her selfe to a friends house of hers: thinking it safer to displease her husband, than God, to whom shée had dedicated her selfe.

This day being past, because shée would not over-long absent her selfe from her owne home, shée determined to returne back againe to him, whom God had bound and conjoyned her with, though shée could not but foresée the great evills and inconveniences which would follow thereup­on, in regard of her said husbands crooked disposi­tion. Shée came no sooner home, but shée was discovered by the Curate of Saint Hillary, com­mitted prisoner, & brought into the Consciergery. They asked her where she had kept her Easter: she without faining told them, she absented herself from home, that she might abide a while with some of her loving friends, lest shée should be ur­ged to prophane the supper of the Lord, as others usually did; and therefore had kept the same ac­cording to Gods ordinance, in the assembly of faithfull & devout christians. Being asked whether indéed shée had béen present at those secret méet­ings: shée answered yea, and estéemed her selfe happy that ever shée came among them. And thus being questioned by the Counsell, with other prisoners, about the Masse, purgatory, auricular confession, and such other points, shée fréely told them what shée had learned concerning the same out of Gods word; so as the fifth of May she was ordered to be sent to the Bishop, or his officiall, to sée if by any meanes she might be reclaimed. But the officiall prevailing nothing with her, be­cause she persisted constant in the profession of the truth, he pronounced sentence against her, de­claring her to be a pertinacious and obstinate he­retique; yea such a one as was to be redelivered over to the secular power, and thence to be sent back to the Consciergery.

Being brought back into the Court, certaine Doctors and others were sent to reason with her: yet her faith for all that staggered not, but remai­ned victorious, notwithstanding all their batteries laid against it,

Then by the sentence of the Court shée was condemned to be carried in a dung cart to the [Page 10] place called Maubert, a gagge to be put into her mouth, and there to be burned and consumed to ashes. But before she should suffer death, she was sentenced to be put to the extraordinary torture, to make her confesse, whom she knew, and was conversant withall, and to name the house where shée received the Communion: yet did this wo­man undergo all these her afflictions, with incre­dible joy, singing Psalmes, and praising God con­tinually: she was never séen to shrinke at her 10 imprisonment, she daily exhorted the women who were prisoners with her, & comforted them. Such of the Martyrs as went from the Consciergery to suffer death, passed by the chamber where shée lay, yet was she not disheartened to sée them in the hands of their executioners, but cryed to them, exhorting them to rejoyce, and with patience to beare the reproach of Christ.

But to returne to the manner of her death; af­ter sentence shée was led to the Chappell, as the 20 manner is; yet shée ceased not all the way to ex­hort the people, and to sing Psalmes, till she was put into a Dung-cart to be conveyed to the place of execution. The renowne of her constancy was so famous from the beginning of her troubles, that no small multitude of people were gathered together in the stréets, for the desire they had to behold her: God so appointing that the great and more than ordinary graces of his spirit (which were in this woman) might be manifested before 30 so great a confluence of spectators, and eye-wit­nesses. She passed on then, as it were trium­phing, through the middest of this assembly, not shewing any signe of the feare of death, but with a fresh colour and chéerefull countenance passed on with her eyes lifted up to heaven, nor did her gagge so disfigure her, but that she shewed an amiable aspect upon all that viewed her. So as even the rude and obstinate multitude admired her; saying one to another, Doe you not sée how 40 this heretike smiles and laughes?

Comming to the place of her martyrdome, they told her if shée would relent, shée should be stran­gled. She answered, That her resolution was so rightly founded upon the word of God, that shée never meant to change. And to let them sée that death terrified her not, shée began to disrobe her selfe without troubling the hangman at all. Be­ing hoised up in the ayre, they asked her againe, if shée would not accept of the grace which the court 50 offered her, to be strangled? She gave them a signe, that shée would not. Then was the fire kin­dled, and so shée yéelded up her soul into the hands of God.

How one that was naturally deafe helped himselfe.

IT is recorded of Iohn Beffroy a Lock-smith 60 dwelling in Paris, that he had a long time be­haved He was ex­ceedingly ma­ligned of his neighbours for his piety, but especially because he had a little infant of his baptized secretly, & then for working upon a light holyday, which was the cause of his apprehen­sion & death. himselfe very religiously, never denying his house for Christian méetings, what danger soever might ensue thereupon. He had an incredible de­sire to profit by the preaching of the Gospell. And therefore being hindered by a naturall infirmity of deafenesse to understand what was spoken, hée used this help, commanding a Lad which he kept to hearken to the sermon attentively, and at his 70 returne home made the said boy to tell him in his eare all that he had heard. Insomuch that he be­came excéedingly expert in the knowledge of the truth, wherein he persisted constantly to the death, and was (after he had received the extraordinary torture) burned for the same in the place called the Grave, in the Moneth of December, Anno 1549.

Another relation of Anne du Burg.

DV Burg, being asked if he had conferred with any about certaine articles formerly mentio­ned, answered, That he had conferred with his bookes, but especially the holy Scriptures.

Having framed a Confession of his faith which he intended to have presented to the court of par­liament, certain counsellors which were advocats in the said Court pretending friendship towards him, being yet but time-servers, shewing them­selves also discontented therewith, laboured with him to make another Confession, not directly con­trary to the truth, but somewhat ambiguous and doubtfull, so as it might give satisfaction to his Iudges. Du Burg, having of a long time resi­sted, was in a manner overcome (by their intrea­ties) to consent to their Counsell; telling him, it sufficed that himselfe understood his owne true meaning, though ambiguously expressed; as also that his Iudges would not stand strictly to ex­amine such a confession as had only an outward appearance of consenting to their doctrine. Now this disguised confession was no sooner come into the hands of his Iudges, but great hopes were conceived of his inlargement. But when the as­sembly had got a true copy thereof, they were greatly gréeved, being more carefull of the saving his soule, of Gods glory, and the edification of his Church, then of such a deliverance, which could not be obtained without great dishonour to God.

And therefore they gave order to M. Augustin Of the ma­ner of whose death you shal read hereafter Marlorate to write a large discourse concerning the duty of such as were called of God to beare witnesse to his eternall truth before the Magi­strate; wherein were also set downe Gods threa­tenings and judgements against such as either directly or indirectly in what kinde soever did disa­vow the same. Exhorting him more highly to 1 2 3 4 5 6 prize the glory of God, than his owne liberty; the truth of the Gospell, than a short and transi­tory life. That it beséemed him not now to give over, having already made so happy a beginning, and so good a progresse in his Christian course. That the report of his constancy was spread not only through the kingdome of France, but throughout all Christendome. That he had béene a meanes to confirme many weak ones, and cau­sed others to enquire after the meanes of Salva­tion. That the eyes of all were fixed on him, to ex­pect the manner of his comming out of prison. So as if now through feare, or faintheartednesse he should enterprise ought that might contradict his first confession, he would thus become an oc­casion of much scandall and offence. And therefore exhorted him to give glory to God, to edifie his Church, assuring him that God would never leave nor forsake him. These Letters wrought in the conscience of Du Burg a sense of his sinne: for which asking pardon of God, without any fur­ther delay, he sent a petition to his Iudges, in which retracting this his last confession he pro­tested to stand unto his first.

Slanders raised by the Sorbonists against the Protestants of Roan in France, and what was the issue thereof.

THrée Doctors of the Sorbonists, whose names were Secard, Columbell, and Fancillon, in their collations to their parishioners accused those of the Religion with their wonted slanders, as, that they committed whordome one with another [Page 11] after the candles were put out, and were taught to rebell against their King and governors; which governors also these Sorbonists accused to connive and hold with them, inciting the people to run up­on those of the religion, since the Magistrates for­bare to do their duty. But here God catched the wise in their owne craftinesse; for by meanes here­of many began to looke into these matters where­of the godly were accused; Namely, to enquire both what they did and spake in their assemblies. 10 Where séeing and finding the clean contrary to these accusations before mentioned, they were drawne to abhorre these lying spirits, and by little and little came to cleave unto the said assemblies themselves; yea many who were lewdly given, and came in among them to another end.

But these accusers, not content herewith, went in the night into Churches, not sparing to deface the images that stood therein, and then charged the Protestants to be the onely actors thereof. 20 Whereupon the Cardinall of Burbon Archbishop of Roan was often faine to repaire them with many ceremonies. But at last a Monke of Mag­dalens hospitall was taken with the manner of breaking downe these Images in the churchyard of Saint Marke. For which he received no corre­ction, excusing the matter, by saying, that whatso­ever he had done therein procéeded from a good meaning. Yet among all these disorders the church of Roan still subsisted, though not without great 30 perill and danger.

¶ The story of a Locksmith, Martyr, who being dry had holy water given him to drinke.

ABout this time was a Locksmith burnt in the city of Agen, upon the clamours and sediti­ous 40 sermons of a frier called Melchior Flavin, who denounced this Locksmith to be an heretike, because he had made a Christian and good confes­sion, and therefore pursued him unto the the death. A little before he was to die, Redon the lieutenant of Agen asked him if he would drinke. Sir, saith the prisoner, if you please to give me drink, I will. Then the Lieutenant brought him a glasse of wa­ter, of which he dranke a little. Now, said the other unto him, what hast thou drunke? the pri­soner 50 answered, Water. Saith the other, Thou hast drunke holy-water, which I gave thée to drive the divell out of thée. I know, saith the poore man, that every creature of God is good in its owne nature; but had you told me it had béene such as now you say it is, I would not have drunke it, for it is defiled with idolatry. At this answer the Lieutenant hurled the glasse of water at the poore mans face with such force, that the glasse breaking to pieces hurt him. For which inhumane act hee 60 was reproved by his fellowes, and amerced to pay ten pounds. But the Locksmith tooke his death patiently, and endured it constantly.

¶ The miserable death of a Consul who was both an accuser and a Iudge.

IOstas Simler, a learned Divine of our time, in 70 the life of Master Henry Bullinger, a worthy servant of God, and a faithfull Minister of the church of Zurick [...], recordeth an history which he saith hapned in a city of Suitzerland among the papists, An. 1559. He expresseth neither the Con­suls name, nor the city, the thing being sufficiently knowne to the inhabitants thereabouts. This Consul, being a rich and potent man, intending to build a brave and magnificent house, sent far and neere for the rarest and most exquisite workemen he could heare tell of. Amongst the rest he sent to the city of Trent (so much renounced among Pa­pists in regard of the last Councell the Pope had there) for an excellent carber and master Builder called Iohn, a man very religious, and a lover of the Truth: for which cause the said Iohn refused at the first to goe thither, alledging for himselfe that he was of a contrary religion to that which the Consull professed, and therefore could not safe­ly inhabit among such as would observe his con­tempt of the Masse and their other ceremonies. The Consull promised him safety in respect of his person, and that he should be forced to nothing a­gainst his conscience. Upon this his promise, Iohn came and wrought a long time with the con­sull: but when he came to demand his wages they entred into some termes of discontent. In the end at the command of this Consull, Iohn was committed to prison, and by the same Consull ac­cused for a sleighter of the Romish religion, yea, to have spoken unreverently thereof; wherefore he was condemned to be beheaded.

As they led him to execution he went towards it with undaunted courage, and died very con­stantly; protesting in the presence of all the Spe­ctators, that he most gladly layd downe this life present, for the maintenance of that religion whereof he had made profession, beleeving un­doubtedly that it was the Truth; but added, that the consull who was the author of his death should himselfe die within three daies, and appeare before Gods judgement seat to render an account of his sentence. Which came to passe according as this pious man foretold: for the Consull being then in the prime of his youth, and of an healthfull disposi­tion of body, from that day began to be assailed first with an exceeding heate, and then with an ex­traordinary cold; and thus was he smitten with a new kinde of sicknesse, so as within three dayes he followed him, of whom he had bin both the most unjust accuser and judge.

¶ The speech of a poore Porter called Chevil­lon, whipped for the Truth, and after confined to the Gallies.

BEing whipped thorow the stréets of Romans, he said to him that lashed him, Lay on my friend, lay it on and spare not, chastise this flesh which hath so often rebelled against his God: thinking himselfe happy that he suffered in so good a quarrell.

¶ The miserable end of one called Aubespine, a Counsellor of Grenolle, and a persecutor.

AFter these bloody persecutions, this Aubespine fell in love with a gentlewoman, and therein gave such way to his passion, that he forsooke his calling, casting off all care of his owne welfare, to follow her whithersoever she went. But she dis­regarding him, he tooke it so to heart, that he neg­lected his owne person: by reason whereof swar­ming full of lice, he could by no meanes be rid of them; for they increased upon him, and came out at all the parts of his body, as they are seen to issue out of a dead carkasse. It was not long before his death, but feeling himselfe smitten with Gods hand, he began to despaire of his mercy, and to shorten his dayes he concluded to famish himselfe: in the meane while the lice gathered so thick about [Page 12] his throat, as if they would strangle him. Some beholding this so lamentable a spectacle, being much mooved therewith in commiserating his estate, agréed to make him eat whether he would or no, forcing him to take some broth, or a Cullis, which he resisting with all his might, they bound his armes, gagging his mouth with a sticke to kéepe it open, whilest they put somewhat therein­to. Being thus gagged he died like an inraged beast, with the abundance of lice which crept to­wards 10 his throat. And thus it was spoken even Gag them said he, for it wee suffer them to speake, they will doe more harme at their death than in their life: which practise was not one­ly liked but executed. by some of the Romish Religion, that looke what torment he had devised for the ministers of Va­lence, sending them gagged to their execution, he was by the just judgment of God punished after a sort in the same kind.

Iohn Ponce of Leon a Gentleman of Seuill in in Spaine.

AMong those that with a firme faith sealed the truth of the Gospel with their bloud in the Spanish inquisition at Sevill the foure and twen­tieth of September 1559. Don Iohn Ponce of Leon, the sonne of Roderic Ponce of Leon Count of Baylen, may of good right deserve to be placed in the first ranke. For besides the noble race from whench he sprang, the Lord had indu­ed him with singular vertues well beséeming so worthy and Christian a Gentleman. Those who 30 were of his familiar acquaintance, and did well observe his conversation, gave this testimony of his sincerity, that his like was not knowne in Spaine of a long time, in that a man of his estate was so forward to exercise his charity to­wards such in whom he saw but any good incli­nation to religion: yea, his yearely revenues, which were also great, were not onely imployed, that way, but he séemed to excéede the chiefest of 40 his ranke, in yéelding his helpe and aide towards the reliefe of the poore. All which the world taking knowledge of, attributed (as it is woont) that which procéeded from his so Christian bounty, ra­ther unto wastfulnesse and prodigality.

The Inquisitors of Sevill envying the swéete savour of such a life and conversation as he led be­fore them, flowing from an inward taste of true Religion, spared him no more than those of mea­ner condition. For having gotten him into their hands, they left no meanes unassayed, but used the 50 utmost of their devices to weaken his faith. The truth is, that at the first this noble personage was much perplexed, but at the last the Lord fortified him so with his grace, that he was set in the first rounde of the guilty. Concerning his sentence (howsoever this holy tribunall mixed the same with many untruths to bleare the eyes of the ig­norant withall) yet may it easily be collected out of the tenor of his sentence, what he confessed and professed. 60

For in the said sentence were read his articles for which he was principally condemned to the fire; namely, That hée abhorred the Idolatry which is committed in adoring the Sacrament, calling it a breaden god. Also, that when he met it as it was carried through the stréets, either in solemnity or to some sicke body, he passed into a­nother stréet going apace before it, that he might give no reverence unto it. That comming often into the Cathedrall Church where masse was 70 said, he turned his back towards y^e Priest, because he would not sée him elevate his God. That hée used much to walke to and fro about the scaffold where the faithfull were executed, with a kinde of delight, coveting to stand neere unto them, that by accustoming himselfe in beholding the place, and torments he saw others indure, he might bee the better emboldened to suffer the like when God should call him thereunto.

These were in effect the Articles which were inserted in his sentence, a part whereof also was drawne out of the confession of his faith, the sum being this: First. That a man is justified and accepted of God onely for the merrit of Iesus Christ apprehended by faith. That the popes par­dons and indulgences sent from Rome are méere delusions, and that the Pope is Antichrist, &c. That it was the desire of his heart to be burned, or to suffer some other extremity for the maintenance of the Faith which he professed. That he endevo­red to imploy the goods and riches wherwith God had blessed him, only for the defence and further inlarging of the doctrine of the Gospel; Yea, to forsake life, wife, children, and all, for the same: to which end hee had daily sent up many hearty prayers to God.

In all this busines, the holy tribunall labored by cunning devices to obscure this confession, cau­sing it to be bruited that he held not out to the end, with many other like inventions to make the peo­ple beleeve they had turned him to their Law: but herein they shewed themselves not well advised, in that they belied both him and themselves. For in publishing his crimes and offences with the manner of his death, what did they else but de­clare and manifest the truth of the fact, which plainly appeareth in these words of the sentence; Iohn Ponce of Leon, burned for an heretike and an obstinate Lutheran, &c. Which words made their fraudulent dealing apparent to such as doub­ted any way of the constancie and perseverance of this pious Christian knight.

Iohn Gonzalve a Preacher in Sevill, Martyr: with whom were executed two of his si­sters, their mother remaining in prison, reserved to act her part in another tra­gedie.

GOnzalve a renowned Preacher throughout the Countrey of Andalousie, was also led in this inquisitoriall triumph: who forsaking his Schoole Divinity, in which learning he excelled all his fellowes, gave himselfe wholly to the study of the holy Scriptures, according to the purity whereof his whole conversation was ordered, both inwarly and outwardly. Hee was often obser­ved in all his Sermons to ayme at this marke, namely to deliver mens minds from that blind conceit of meriting by works; that so way might be made for justification onely by Faith in Christ Iesus, and déeply to in graft into them the know­ledge of the sole merit of his plenary satisfaction. For which his labour hee expected to receive from man the same reward which all the true servants of God have had in their times.

Being then seized upon by those of this Spa­nish inquisition, hee yeelded a reason of his faith in that purity and sincerity, as did the aforesaid Iohn Ponce; who as they had beene friends and of familliar acquaintance, so were they joyned to­gether in the same confession, and led to the same execution together. The night before he suffered he had a sore conflict with an old sect of Priests, who were of the Inquisition, but in the end he cau­sed them to returne vanquished and ashamed. He was led from the castle and prison of Trion with his two sisters unto the place appointed for his end, that they with him might drinke of the same cup, leaving his mother and one of his brethren behind him in prison, reserved to be executed when their turn came about. He never shewed the least signe of being dismaid; but contrariwise with [Page 13] great constancy and courage of heart standing above all the people, to whom he had formerly preached and delivered the patterne of sound Do­ctrine; He began with a loud voyce to recite the Psalme which begins thus, O Lord my Rocke Psal. 28. 1. be not thou silent to me, &c. not changing his conntenance at all upon the Scaffold, though they had gagged him there, because he comforted and fréely exhorted one of his sisters to be con­stant: whose spirit he feared might otherwise faint. 10 Hearkening very attentively to his sentence which was there againe recited, he was not any thing at all abashed or troubled thereat, but tooke his solemne degrading patiently, receiving the markes and garments of his confession, to wit, his yellow robe, an haltar, and a painted miter, with a joyfull and chéerefull heart; knowing that howsoever they were disgracefull in the eyes of the world, yet he estéemed of them as ornaments of honour in the sight of God and his Angels; ab­horing 20 his massing attire, whereof they had dis­robed him.

When the time was come that those which should be burned were brought to the place of ex­ecution, they were every one commanded to re­cite the articles of their beléefe, which they wil­lingly did: but when they came to the Article, I beleeve the holy Catholique Church, they were bidden to adde this word Romane, whereupon they were silent: then did the 30 Monkes and Fryers importune Gonzalves si­sters, and other Christian women who were to be burned with them, to repeat the said word Ro­mane; who answered they would, if they might heare Iohn Gonzalva pronounce it (not that they intended so to doe, but being confident of his re­nouncing the same) hoping by this meanes to frée him of his gagge, and so to obtaine the liberty of spéech, by which he might render a reason of his faith, and so of this article among the rest. Be­ing 40 ungagged, the first word he spake was, that they should be of good courage, and not to adde one word more than what they had recited. Vp­on this their last confession they were forthwith strangled, as the fire was kindled upon them, to burne and consume them.

¶ Isabell of Vaenia, Mary of Viroes, Cor­nella 50 Mary of Bohorques, and Iane her sister burnt at Sevill in Spaine.

AMong all the most ancient professors of true religion that had their abode in the Church of God at Sevill (who in a manner were all wasted by the Tyranny of the Inquisition) the power of faith appeared in these foure women above spe­cified. Now howsoever they were all endued 60 with singular piety and godlinesse, yet the yon­ger of them named Bohorques, being under the age of one and twenty, was instructed above the rest in holy letters, & by dayly reading and confe­rence with good and godly men, wherewith Sevil at that time was well furnished, shée had obtai­ned such promptnesse in the knowledge of the Texts of the old and new Testament, that many who were estéemed learned in that City, have confessed they were often put to a non-plus by such reasons as shée alledged out of the Scrip­tures.

As touching the first of these, Vaenia; her 70 house was a schoole or colledge of piety, being the place also where all the méetings were, to publish the praises of God. No evill example was to bée séene there, nor ought that savoured of feigned hinesse, but such as procéeded from uprightnesse of heart and sincerity. But the Inquisitors, who alwayes lye in waite to take hold, though but with the least thréed of their net, caught these foure women with other their neighbours, in the same, when God knew they were fitted for the confes­sion of his holy truth. Now as the Latine tongue did much aide the said Mary Bohorques to re­taine her in reading of the holy Bible, whilest the Popes Tyranny forbad the same to be read in the vulgar tongue; so she came quickly to be in­vironed with the more adversaries during her captivity. Doctor Egidus (whose memory was renowned throughout Spaine among all such as truly worshipped God) had béen her Instru­ctor, and was wont to say of this Maide, that he alwaies went from her more learned by confer­ring with her, then when he came to her. Would to God many maids in these dates might deserve to be so com­mended.

During her Captivity there came many Monkes to dispute and reason with her; above all, those of the order of Saint Dominicke, who were enforced to admire the spirit of wisdome, wherewith this Damosell was inspired, as also at the pregnant answers which she gave to their demands. Shée suffered so many kindes of tor­ments, that by the violence thereof they forced her to nominate her sister Iane Bohorques, and to confesse that she had often béen present at the Preaching of the Gospell. This Iane was the wife of one called Francis Varquis, Lord of Higueras, a man of excellent note. Shée was sixe Moneths gone with child when she was com­mitted to prison, and therefore was not so straitly used, nor hardly dealt with all as other of the pri­soners were. But within eight daies after her delivery, her childe was taken from her, and then giving her no longer time of breathing, they be­gan to deale with her after the guise of the Spa­nish Inquisition, forming her inditement agréea­ble to the rigour and severity thereof. In which her extremity shée had comfort of none, but of a vertuous young maiden, who afterwards was burned for the profession of the truth: which maid being one day brought by the Inquisitors to the torture, was in a manner dismembred, and then layd upon a bed of straw, whereon both were laid in the prison, serving rather to vexe then any way to ease them, yet did the other yeeld her all the re­liefe which her selfe or the place could possibly af­ford. Scarse had this poore Damosell recovered some ease after these intolerable bruises, but this aforesaid Iane Bohorques tasted of the same bit­ter Cup, where shée was so cruelly tormented on the Burro, as they call it, which is a bench or forme whereon they give the Towell or Napkin, that the cords pierced through the flesh into the bones, both of her armes and leggs: and in this pitifull plight the bloud gushing out, shée was re­turned to her prison, where within eight daies af­ter it pleased God to frée her out of the clutches of these bloudthirsty, into his eternall happinesse and glory. Now they were very loth it should bee bruited abroad that this gentlewoman, so well borne and delicately bred, should dye under so cruell torments: but they who were the beholders of such inhumanity could not be silent. Yet these good fathers, being under no controle, take their liberty thus to imbrue their hands in the bloud of Gods saints.

Her sister Mary being led with the rest of her fellowes to the place where they were to suffer, she went thereto with such joy and gladnesse, as one triumphing over her enemies: which the whole tri­bunall observing, and fearing lest others would be imboldened by her constant defence of the truth and singing of Psalmes as she went, gag­ged her. And when she came to the place of execu­tion, that they might obscure the glory of this hea­venly constancy they presently strangled her.

¶ Iulian Hernandes burned in Sevill in Spaine, Anno 1559.

THis Iulian, who for his small stature was called, le petit, was servant to Iohn Piers & Spaniard, and minister of the Gospell in Gene­va, 10 where, through much resrot of many learned men thither, religion flourished. At which time being moved with godly zeale, rather then being counselled thereto, he undertooke a businesse, which as it was of great importance, so of no small perill and imminent danger; for he brought with him thence and caused a great number of Bookes of the holy Scriptures in Spanish to be conveied into Spaine, earnestly thirsting after the in­crease 20 and growth of the light of the Gospell in his native countrey; which godly enterprize of his the Lord so guided, that he brought the same to a prosperous Issue; Yea, which is yet the more ad­mirable, even within the walles of Sevill, not­withstandinh all the watch and ward the Officers of the Inquisition used.

These books to the poore Chrstians there were welcommed with no lesse joyfulnesse, then the rain when it showers downe upon the parched ground. For the Gospell by meanes hereof grew, and was 30 Psal. [...]. enlarged; so as the Lord thereby reaped a very great Harvest. But the newes hereof comming to the eares of the holy Fathers, first, by the in­discretion and foole-hardinesse of one more zea­lous then wise, and then by the treachery of wily spies of the Inquisition, who counterfeited a pro­fession of the Gospell, meerely to ensnare and be­tray the sincere professors thereof, by their disloy­all practises: no sooner had these venerable Fa­thers, or hunters rather gotten a sent of this game 40 where it lay, but comming violently upon them, tooke the damme with her young ones. By which Deut. 21. 6. great surprisall the whole flocke was scattered; but so many was the number of them even at their first apprehension, that it amased the hunts­men themselves.

For the prisons were so replenished, that they See what great increase God can bring out of weake beiginnings. were faine to borrow private houses to shut up the prisoners in. At once they burned twenty and upwards of them together, whilst in Sevill they detayned in bonds 800. Amongst whom this 50 Iulian was one of the first which they met with­all, whom they kept in prison above thrée yéeres laden with Irons: during which time, every day afforded new spectacles of catching their prey. But such was his wonderfull constancy, that he wearied his tormentors from vexing him any more; so as new forces never failed this little leane body, to suffer any tortors the Inquisiti­on could devise. He was naturally of a chéere­full 60 spirit, and God so increased the same in him, that he came from the torture with no lesse cou­rage then when he was wont to come unto it: so as neither paine of the racke, nor the threats of the Officers, nor yet the cruelties they exercised upon him could withhold him from manifesting to his prison fellowes, as he went along by them, his conquest and victory, to the shame and re­proach of his adversaries, using to say in Spa­nish; Such honor have all Gods Saints. These hypocrites are gone away confoun­ded, no lesse then Wolves which have béene long 70 hunted.

After many fierce encounters and sharpe dis­putes with the Monkes and others of the popish crew, being brought out of the prison into the Ca­stle, there to receive the mark and livery of Christ the sonne of God, with the rest of the prisoners, it was reported, that he with a bold courage and set­led countenance thus spake unto them; Courage my valiant and constant Brethren, now is the houre come in which, as the true Champions of Iesus Christ, we must witnesse his truth before men, and for a short triall for his sake wee shall triumph with him for ever and ever. But the of­ficers of the Inquision interrupted him instant­ly, by putting a gagge in his mouth, with which he continued untill a little before he dyed. Moun­ting then upon the scaffold where he was to suffer, by manifold signes he shewed the constancy and stedfastnesse of his faith, which by words he could not. For in ascending up the steps of the scaffold, When the Martyrs were hindred to manifest their faith by speech, yet they would by outward gestures do it as well as they could. knéeling downe he kissed them; and being fast­ned to the stake, invironed and compassed round abut with fagots, he sundry times bowed his head within the pile of wood, as if he desired to die by fire, and so rendred up his soule into the hands of God, to the great admiration of the Spectators, and the animating of his fellow Martyrs who were to suffer with him. When he was to die, a certaine Doctor called Ferdinando Rodrigo, con­trary to his intention, made the faith of this our little Iulian much more glorious: for he thinking by terrifying him with the apprehension of the pre­sent torment he was to endure, obtained so much favour of the Sheriffe, as to permit him to speake; thinking thereby to give the people some intima­tion of his recantation; which is the utmost tri­umph that these holy Fathers of the Inquisition thirst after: but it proved cleane contrary: for Iulian recovering liberty of spéech, did yéeld a more cléere evidence and demonstration of his faith than formerly he had done, and so confuted this Doctor Rodrigo, (calling him a seducer, and one that spake against his conscience) that by and by in an outrage, to cover his shame, he cryed out like a Bedlam; Must Spaine, which commands silence to so many, be thus troubled now with this so contemptible a wretch? Kill him, dispatch him, &c, At which words, the tormentors being there at a becke, forthwith kindled the fire upon him.

¶ Now having thus formerly mentioned what tortures are exercised upon the bodies of Gods Saints by the mercilesse Inquisitors of Spaine, and that also upon those of their owne Nation: it shall not be much from the purpose if from thence we take occasion more particularly here to relate unto thée (Christian Reader) with what inhumanity such are used who for the cause of religion fa [...]l into the hands of these carnall ty­rants, according as I finde the same set forth at large by my Author, whose footsteps in the whole Work I endeavour to follow.

WHen they purpose to torture any one, the Iaylor is commanded to bring forth his prisoner into the accustomed place where it is to be given; which place is under the earth, and very obscure. Then going thorow many turnings, and thorow sundry dores, so as the horrible cryes of those who are there tortured can in no wise be heard, there is a seat prepared for the Iuquisitors on high, with a Register also to behold that tragi­call act. The torches being lighted, those who are to act their parts in this wofull Tragedy are brought in: the tormentor who attends their com­ming, is covered all over with a blacke garment, close to his body, and on his head a blacke Hood, which hides his face from being séene; having on­ly two or thrée holes made therein for himselfe to sée and breathe at; and all this is the way to ter­rifie the poore Patient, who beholdeth as it were a grimme devill ready to torment him. These Fa­thers being set upon their seat begin againe to charge the Prisoner voluntarily to confesse the truth: which if be refuse to do, and if it then happen [Page 15] that an arme or any other member of his body be broken, or that they die on the torture (for that is all the favour he hath shewed him) they make it his own fault and none of theirs. After they have used all the terrible threates that can be, they cause him to be stripped starke naked, whether man, woman, or maide, though they be never so modest and bashfull. Many having fallen into their bloody fingers, thus to have their shame dis­covered to the sight of others, was more gréeuous 10 than all their torments besides which they indu­red. Laying aside then all humanity in unclo­thing them, they put upon them (a shame it is to speake it) linnen bréeches, as if their secret parts were better & more honestly covered with bréeches than with a shirt or smocke, or as if the torments they meant to put them to would not pierce déepe enough as well in the one as in the other: with such shamelesse spectacles the chaste Inquisitors fed their ages, and with such a cruell lust satisfied 20 their infamous and detestable virginity.

The man or woman standing naked then, and their nakednesse covered only with little bréeches, as was said, they becken to the tormentor, signi­fying thereby what kinde of torture he is to put them to. For herein, as also in many things of a like nature, they have some secret watchword or signe among themselves; and the Officers being well acquainted therewith can readily discerne what torments the holy Fathers would have 30 men put unto, to teach them the faith of the Ro­mane Church. The most usuall are the cords with the pullies, sinewes, fire, and water, of all which we will speake in place convenient. Whilest they thus stand naked, they exhort them once againe to tell the truth. If the Patient be to endure the Cord, they tie his hands behinde his back, pulling him up eight or ten times, according to the num­ber of twitches limited by the Inquisitor to the Tormentor; that so nothing may be done (there 40 forsooth) without order. At the first incounter are reckoned up to him all his Articles; and then, besides the binding of his hands, they tie his thumbes very hard together with a small Cord, then they tie his hands and thumbes unto a grea­ter Cord, hoising him up by a pully very high, which done, they put upon his legs heavy bolts, if hée have them not on before: to which are yet added, for the first pull, an iron weight of five and twenty pound, which is hanged to these bolts be­twéene 50 his féet. Being thus arayed the Tormen­tor drawes him up on high, the Register and the Inquisitor mixing therewith their former exhorta­tions to confesse. When he comes to touch the pul­ley with his head, they will him yet then to con­fesse: if he obey, they presently let him down; if not, then they let him hang in this condition, un­till he have answered their demands. Now, af­ter he hath hung thus without making any con­fession, they let him downe, to redouble on his féet 60 the former weight. And then pulling him up againe, threaten him to hang till he there die, if hée declare not to them that which they aske of him; commanding the Tormentor to let him hang a long while in the aire, that through the heavinesse of the weight which hangs at his feet, all his mem­bers and joynts be stretched out beyond measure. When the Patient through extremity of torment, which he endures, cryes out, they in like sort cry as loud as they can, that he should now confesse what 70 he knowes: if not, then they let him fall. For when they perceive he continues constant, then they command the officer to let goe the Cord, which is as soone done as spoken, yet not wholly and alto­gether to the mid way, but to a certain stop, which hinders his falling to the ground, by reason where­of he receives such a sudden checke, that there is neither nerve, muscle, sinew, nor joynt in the arms or legs, nor in the whole body, which are not with extreame torture disjoynted and displaced; so as be­ing thus stopped in his fall in the mid way, his body is pittifully and miserably stretched out.

But yet this sufficeth not. For then if through their importunity he will confesse nothing, they augment the weight the third time, and thus in a manner being as good as dead, cause him to bée pulled up: to which cruelty they adde railing and reviling spéeches, calling him dog and heretike, who being obstinate conceals the truth from them, and therefore deserves to be left dying there. If the poore creature in regard of his intolerable ago­ny cryeth unto Iesus Christ to helpe him, and to have mercy upon him (as all such doe as suffer for the truth) then they scoffe and mocke him, say­ing, Iesus Christ, Iesus Christ, let this Iesus Christ Impious blasphemiest. alone a while, and tell us what that Iesus Christ is thou callest upon? Confesse to us that which we demand of thée; the which testifies to their fa­ces how odious and hatefull a thing it is unto them to heare such as suffer in the quarrell of Christ to call upon his name. If the sorrowfull wretch desire to be let downe, promising to con­fesse and to tell them somewhat, they will for all that torment him againe. For having paused a little, then they tell him that is not all, and so con­tinue threatning him with the Strappado as be­fore.

This hellish torture beginneth at nine of the clocke, and lasts till noone, or one of the clocke; and when they please to make an end, then they aske of the Tormentor if he have his other En­gines ready, which they doe to strike the greater terror into the bruised and martyred Patient, whom they now have in their hands. He answers be hath them not there, then they command him to fit and prepare them against the next day, and not to faile: we will sée, say they, whether we can fetch the whole truth out of this fellow or no. And at their going out, they comfort the desolate soule thus; This shall suffice for this time, but looke betweene this and to morrow thou advisest thy selfe well, what thou oughtest to confesse, other­wise thou art like to die on the torture; nor think to escape by what thou hast endured, for that is but as a bed of Roses in regard of the torment which is to come. Being gone, the [...] indevours to set together the joynts of the Pati­ents legges and armes, as well as he can. Then his clothes being put on, he is brought againe in­to his prison, and if he be not able to goe, then hée is carried thither; and sometimes this help proves a vexation unto him, in that they churlishly hale him by his armes and legges. The Iaylour also in scorne askes of him, if he néed a Chirurgion: now if they meane to torture him no more, then he is called for two or thrée dayes after, and as he passeth from the prison, they make him come nigh the doore where he was tortured, where the Tor­mentor presents himselfe before him in all points as hath formerly béen related, that at this very sight the prisoner in his passage might be put in minde of what he had but a while since suffered. When he is come before them, there he findes the Inquisitor, the Register with others set in their seates attending for him, where according to the guise, they adjure him to speak the truth. If at that time they can draw nothing out of him, they send him to prison againe. But if he happen to disclose ought serving their turne, then they ply him hard to utter all: and thereupon make him turne thence to the torture, hoping thereby to get some­thing more out of him.

If they purpose to exercise this their cruelty with all extremity upon the same Patient, they send for him the third day, whilest his sinews and joynts are in the prime of their paine, and so re­new [Page 16] their horrible threats unto him, to reveale Anno 1560. his heresies, and those which had formerly men­tioned, and who they be that are of his opinion; otherwise he must prepare himself for the torture, wherein if he any way miscarry in his body, or if death it selfe doe follow, the fault shall be his, and not theirs. If he continue unmovable in his mind, they cause the Iaylor to bring him to the place of torture, and there they sitting in their Tribunall, command him to be stripped naked, and then tor­mented 10 as you have formerly heard. Besides, as an addition therto, they tie his thighs & hamstrings together with a small cord, forcing the same so with pieces of wood, that the said cords do eate in­to his very flesh; in which extremity they leave him for some thrée or foure houres, or as they please, plying him the while with infinite threats and derisions, which is all the comfort they mini­ster to him in this his miserable condition.

They have yet another kinde of torment, which 20 Iustices in other places exercise upon such as are the most notorious offendors, whereof this holy Tribunall make use, as fitting well to their cru­ell humour. They call it the Burno, which is a planke of timber made hollow in forme of a gut­ter or trough, wherein a man may lie on his back; now just where the back bone should repose it selfe, there is a round péece of wood lying over­thwart, kéeping up the backe from resting in the bottome of the hollow place, so as it giveth no rest 30 to him that is tormented thereon. Now this trough is so framed, that the héeles of him who is put therein lie much higher than his head. Being put into this case or coffin, his legges, armes, and thighes are bound hard with small cords, which by little and little are so strained with certain sticks, that they eate into the flesh, yea pierce to the bare bone. Then they lay a linnen cloth on his face, to hinder his breathing at the nosthrils, whilest they poure water into his mouth, which is distilled 40 from above by this cloth to a certaine quantity, (as it séemes good to his Iudge) not by drops, but streaming downe, to cause the said cloth to goe downe into his throat. The poore patient the whilst lies in these torments as one in a manner dead, not being able either to stir or breathe. Now when this wet cloth is pulled out of the depth of his throate, to make him to answer unto their de­mands; If you should behold how blood and wa­ter comes out together, you would imagine they 50 had plucked the very bowels out of his belly: in which wofull plight he is held as long as they thinke good, even untill with horrible threats and torments he be returned back again to prison.

If they please to procéed further in adding moe torments, within a moneth or two after the said cruelties are renewed, either in more terrible or moderate manner, to some once, to others to the sixt time.

There is yet another torment which is peculiar 60 to this holy seat of the Inquisitors. They cause a great fire of hot burning coales to be brought, which they apply nigh unto the soles of his féet whom they intend to torment, which are first tho­rowly anointed with grease or suet, that the heat of the fire may pierce more déeply.

Thus much be said as touching these tor­ments used by those cruell tormentors of the bloo­dy Inquisition of Spaine upon the bodies of poore Christians. 70

¶ A note of Francis Oliver Chancellor of France.

THis Chancellor, who in the former persecu­tions not behaving himselfe according to a good conscience, (being in times past so far en­lightned as to make profession of the truth) was Gods judge­ment upon an Apostate. visited with a mortall disease; in which sicknesse he was observed to cast forth hideous sighs with­out ceasing. In which perplexity the Cardinall of Lorraine came to visit him, standing aloofe off from him. To whom the Chancellor uttered these words; Ah Cardinall, thou wilt damne us all. It is also reported, that he much and of­ten bewailed the death of Anne du Burg, of whom mention was made heretofore. And thus living a while in this miserable condition he end­ed his dayes.

¶ A Papist defined by Iaques de Lo.

HAving called the vowes of papists papisticall vowes, he was asked what a papist was. He is a Papist, said De Lo, who squares his actions and conversation according to the Popes lawes. Anno 1560.

Being pressed by the papists to confesse whom he knew of the reformed religion, he would name none but such as had suffered; and withall further added, I entreat you my Brethren in the name Note his ad­mirable con­stancy. of God, that you conceive no sinister opinion as touching me in this behalfe: for I am resolved, by the help of my God (without whose assistance I can doe nothing, and with which I can doe all things) to suffer my flesh rather to be rent in pieces, then to reveale any whose persons might thereby be endangered.

¶ The notable conversion of a notorious evill liver, by name Iohn Herwin, of Houtkerk in Flanders, Martyr; who by degrees was so far brrught into Christs Fold, that hee was called forth to beare witnesse of the Truth, from which he was once as farre remote as the heavens are from the earth, in the yeare 1560.

THis Iohn Herwin, born in Géestercoorne, &c. in the West side of Flanders, was of a dis­solute life, such as souldiers for the most part are of; but God having a purpose to shew forth in him the admirable worke of conversion, to draw him to Christ, put it into his heart to leave his owne countrey, and come to the City of London. Béeing arrived there about Easter, the Lord going on with his worke brought him by his pro­vidence into a Brewhouse, being a Brewer by his calling, where he met with a master and fel­low servants fearing God; a thing seldome séen in men of that Profession, séeing ordinarily they are excessive drinkers. His master caused him oft to resort to the Dutch Church in the said city of London, where by ordinary hearing of the Word preached he began first to taste, and after to increase more and more in the saving know­ledge of Christ. Newes comming over, that warres were likely to be in Flanders, caused him to leave England, and to returne againe into his owne countrey. He came thither at the same time that thrée other martyrs were there apprehend­ed, but he was not taken with them.

The Bailiffe of Furne when he saw he could not méet with him, understanding that he was at Honscot, advertised the Bailiffe of the said place, that he might take him at his sisters house. As soone as he heard thereof he delayed no time, but in the night time came with his Sergeants & ap­prehēded [Page 17] him. Now leading him to prison, the bai­liffe Anno 1559. méeting certaine drunkards in the stréets, said; they say, Wee have many Gospellers in Houscot, but it little appeares by these disorders.

Iohn Herwin hearing him say so, and not wil­ling to balke it, replyed, Is drunkennesse a sin, Master Bayliffe? Then sayd the Bayliffe, What of that? Herwin made this conclusion; Why then commit you not these fellowes to prison, séeing it is your office to punish vice, and to protect such as 10 feare God. The Bayliffe was mute: yet for all that Herwin was faine to take up his lodging in prison, where hee behaved himselfe so vertuously, that every one admired it. But because hée was not called forth before the Magistrates of Houscot so soone as hée desired and expected, hée grew hea­uy and sad, asking of some whom he knew well, if they could tell why they so delayed the matter? For his heart was fixed with an holy zeale to confesse Iesus Christ before his judges. Many 20 feared him much, who knew what hée had béen in times past; hée being as yet but a Novice, and a new commer on in the profession of the Gospell; in which case men for the most part have but some glimmering of the light, and are unsetled in their judgements.

At length hée was brought before the sheriffes of the towne, who commanded a Priest to dispute with him. At the first Encounter he asked Her­win how long it was since hée was confessed? 30 also what hée thought of confession, asking him sundry other triviall questions, to which Herwin answered no lesse modestly then Christianly, in so much as they who were of sound judgement easily discerned how hée was not the man hée had béen in times past, but that his prison had béen to him a good schoole where hd had well conned his lesson. The Priest demanded further whether he beléeved there were seven sacraments or no? The bayliffe helping the Priest, said, whats that to the 40 purpose, whether there be seven or two, hée will acknowledge no more then hée list (for he had con­fessed there were but two.) The chiefe sheriffe de­manded of him in these termes, whither hée be­léeved that the Lord remained upon the Altar, flesh, body, and bone. I answer (saith Herwin) with Saint Steven, that the highest dwelleth not in temples made with hands. Heaven, saith the Lord, is my throne, and the earth is my footstoole; Isai. 66. 1. 2. what house will yée then make unto mée, and where is the place of my rest? Hath not my 50 hand made all these? And then tooke occasion to admonish the Iudges which sate there, to examine the Doctrine of the Romane Church, by the true touchstone which is the holy scripture, that so they might discern how opposite and contrary the one is to the other. Consider also, saith hée, what the words of saint Peter import, where hée af­firmes that we ought to obey God rather then man. Yea it is high time for you to thinke upon Act. 4. 19. & 5. 29. A godly ad­monition to Iudges and Magistrates. what I say, and that seriously also, for at the last 60 day it is neither your priests, nor your placcards (which you thinke to stop our mouths withall) that shall any way excuse you then. And as for the title of the Romane Catholike Church, which you hold out against us; I deny not but in the Apostles time and afterwards there was a true Church in Rome, as well as in Corinth, Galatia, among the Philippians, and in other churches; but When the church of Rome was a true Church. after that she fell from the pure word of God, and 70 falsified the Sacraments thereof, turning ecclesi­asticall discipline into auricular confession, God hath also forsaken her, & she ought now no more to bée called a Church of God, but rather the Syna­gogue of Satan. As soone as the chiefe Sheriffe (who is called the first speaker) heard this, he commanded him away.

Having then given sufficient testimony of his Faith, before those of Houscot, he craved for Iu­stice either one way or another. But they on the contrary urged him to desist from his opinion. To which he answered, that his faith was not built of Psal. 14. an opinion, but said he, the Lord hath taught me to eschew evill and do good. Yea, said they, but séest thou not how these opinions have troubled the World? And also how many of the learneder sort do contradict them? Answer. So far is it off that the doctrine of the Gospell should be the cause of troubles, that it only is the meanes of quieting the troubles, debates, and strifes which raigne in the world. These troubles arise indéed from the malice of men. And as touching your learned men you speake of, it is impossible for humane wisdome to comprehend the doctrine of God: for which cause Christ saith. Father I thanke thee, that Mat. 11. 25. Luke 10. 21. thou hast hid these secrets from the wise men of the World, and hast revealed them to babes. Now as the Sergeants conveyed him to prison, they coun­selled him to speake more mildly, and then he might doe well enough.

Before his death he was sorely set upon by certaine Sophisters, who alledged to him the say­ings of many of the ancient Fathers upon the point of the Lords Supper; but he overcame them, by holding close the true sense of Christs words. In prison he comforted himselfe in sing­ing of Psalmes and spirituall Songs, some of which he indited himself. The Canons and priests séeing the people flock together to the prison doore to heare him, especially upon the Sundayes and holy daies, strove by all meanes to put him by his singing. They coupled him with two malefa­ctors, to be a griefe unto him: who obtaining cer­taine instruments by the helpe of their consorts, brake prison and fled. Herwin might thus have escaped if he would; but fearing his flight might be imputed to the godly Christians in the City, he resolved rather to remaine there, than to flie. His sentence in the meane while comming from the Court, he was no sooner advertised of it, but hée thanked God for advancing him to so high an honour as to be counted worthy to suffer for his name: Testifying the joy he inwardly had, by a Letter which he sent to the brethren; praying and exhorting them to be constant and to persevere in that Doctrine which they had received from God.

The fourth day of November betwéene foure and five of the clocke in the morning Herwin was sent for by the Magistrates from prison in­to the place of Iudgement, where by intreatings and goodly promises they urged him to recant and receive their breaden God, which was then to bée offered up; or at least to confesse that Iesus Christ was there corporally present, upon which he should by and by be delivered out of all dangers. Now Herwin refusing their offer was bound and brought by force into the Chappell: but he in sign of his detestation, turned his backe alwayes up­on it, shutting his eyes, and stopping his eares. At the elevation of their Host, one who was knée­ling to it, asked him if Iesus Christ was not now betwéene the Priests hands. No, no, said Her­win, he is in Heaven at the right hand of his Father.

Soone after the sentence of death was read against him, & so was he delivered into the hands of the Tormentor. As he passed out of the town­house, standing upon the first step, & viewing the people who waited to sée him, Sée here (saith he) how this wicked World rewards the poore ser­vants of Iesus Christ. Whilest I gave my selfe to drunkennesse, to playiug at Cards and Dice, living in all dissolution and ungodly behaviour, I was never in danger of these bands (lifting up his hands which were bound) I was then counted [Page 18] a good fellow, and at that time who but I? But Anno 1561. no sooner began I by conversion to aske after a godly life, but the world made war upon me, and became my enemy, persecuting and imprisoning me, and now last of all sending me to the place where I must pay my last debt. But the servant is no better than his Lord: For séeing they per­secuted Mat. 10. 24. Iohn 15. 20. him, no question they will persecute us.

Being come to the place where he was to suf­fer, one of the assembly reaching him forth his 10 hand drew nigh unto him, comforting him, never leaving him till he entred into the Cabbin of wood in which he was to be burnt. He then began to sing the thirtieth Psalme, of which having sung only the first staffe, a Fryer hearing the same hastned towards him (not without much difficul­ty) through the throng, that he might come néere to interrupt him, who knéeling on his knées said, Oh Iohn, turne, there is yet time and space. The 20 Martyr, sleighting his glosing words, turned his back upon him. And many there present cryed to the Fryer, Turne thou, thou hypocrite: and thus was he suffered quietly to finish the Psalme. The Fryer séeing himself disappointed this way of his purpose, continuing still in his impudency, said to the people, be ye not offended good people in hearing this Heretique sing of God. They cryed againe to him, Hold thy peace thou Balaamite, here is no body offended. Many sung with a soft voice with the Martyr, and some againe sung 30 aloud without faining.

There were more than foure hundred which encouraged him to continue to the end, as he had well begun. Then he said unto them, Brethren, I fight under the Standard and in the quarrell of my great Lord and Captaine Christ.

Having ended the psalme he made his prayer to God upon his knées. Then rising up, and be­ing about to enter into his lodge made with an heape of fagots, he said to the people, I am now 40 going to be sacrificed; follow you me when God of his goodnesse shall call you to it. When he was gone in, the Fryer put him in minde againe, that yet there was time to repent: but he, as one little minding what this deceiver said, com­mended his spirit into the hands of God. Hee that reached him forth his hand stood in the midst of the Sergeants, and not far off from the Tor­mentor, still encouraging the Patient, and yet none laid hold on him; they were stricken with 50 such astonishment, partly with the Martyrs cou­rage, and partly with their owne shame in put­ting to death an innocent. The Executioner not being his craftsmaster strangled and burnt him most cruelly, so as the people were heard to be­waile the manner of it, whilest the Martyr yéelded up the ghost the said fourth day of Novenber, Anno 1560. His body was consumed to ashes, which were buried in the Market place of Hon­scot. 60

¶ Iohn de Boschane drowned in a tub in prison, the twenty eighth day of Februa­ry, in the City of Antwerpe, Anno 1561.

THe evening before he suffered many of the faithfull expected what should be done unto him. But the Magistrates of the towne fearing an uprore, knowing that he was a man frée of spéech, and beloved of the people, tooke counsell to drowne him secretly in the prison, which could not be executed without murther and cruell torment. For the tub (in which he should be drowned) being neither large nor déep enough, the Martyr him­selfe being tall of stature, and the executioner ha­ving provided so little water that he could not possibly be drowned therein; therefore he was constrained, for the shortning of this so cru­ell a torment, to wound him in the body with di­vers A sure way to make an end of him. stabs of a dagger, which were to be séen ther­on after he was dead. Thus finished this Bos­chane Martyr his life, being twenty six yeares of age, in the City of Antwerpe, in the yeare of our Lord 1560.

¶ The story of one Iohn de Buisons, who was beheaded in the prison, as Iohn the Bap­tist was, in the night.

THis holy servant of Christ having valiantly stood to the profession of the Gospell, was soone after condemned to die. Now fearing lest any tumult or sedition should be raised in the City of Antwerp, he was beheaded in the prison about one or two of the clocke in the night, to the glory of God, and the confusion of his adversaries, An­no 1561.

¶ Simon Harme Martyr, who had sentence of death pronounced two severall times upon him in the City of Lisle in Flan­ders.

THis Simon was accused to have uttered some spéeches long since aga [...]nst the Church of Rome. Witnesses béeing produced against him in the towne-house, the Magistrate condem­ned him to be beheaded. Now according to their custome in that place, his hat being taken from him after sentence pronounced, he was returned backe againe to prison, expecting the houre of his execution. Then were sent unto him certaine fri­ers to confesse, or rather to vexe and torment him. But this godly man being throughly fenced with [Page 19] the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God, made them know to their shame that they were greatly mistaken: for the Friers returning backe to those who had imployed them in this bu­sinesse, reported that this Simon was a most no­torious heretique; which the Magistrates of the Citie hearing, caused him by and by to be called The Martyr had his hat sent him which was taken from him. to judgement, sending him his hat againe which they tooke from him, in token that they had re­voked the sentence first pronounced, to enter a 10 new processe against him. Thus got Simon some leasure the better to dispose of his affaires, also to comfort and counsell his friends by Letters, not weighing the torments of death which he was to endnre. Thrée dayes before he suffered, sentence was pronounced touching another kind of death, namely to be burned, and his body to be consu­med to ashes. Which kind of Martyrdome did manifest to all the people of the sayd City the ad­mirable power of the Lord, by how much more the 20 paines were excéeding great, beholding how this his servant swéetly gave up the ghost in peace in the midst of the fiery flames.

¶ A note of one Iohn Martin, who brag­ged he would cut off a Ministers nose.

THe Church of God increasing so farre in the Valleyes of Angrongne in France, that they were faine to build a Church wherein to preach the Word publikely, in regard of concourse of people resorting thither, it happened that the forenamed Iohn Martin, boasting every where that he would cut off the ministers nose of An­grongne, was soone after set upon by a mad wolfe, who did indéed eat his nose from his face, A remarkable judgement of God. dying mad thereof himselfe, and yet it was ne­ver 40 observed that this Wolfe had ever hurt any before. Which terrible judgement was so mani­fest, that it was noysed among all the neighbour Villages thereabouts, An. 1561.

¶ A mischiefe mercifully prevented by the meanes of prayer and calling upon the 50 name of God.

A Certaine President being come into the city of Pigneroll, sent for one of Saint Iohns (ve­ry neere unto Angrongne) who at that time dwelt there, asking him if he had not caused a childe of his to be baptised at Angrongne, and why he had done so? The poore silly man answered, hee had 60 done it because Baptisme was there administred according to Christs institution. The President hearing him say so, in great fury, commanded him in the kings name, upon paine of being bur­ned, to get it rebaptised, The Father of the child besought him that he would permit him to pray unto God before he gave him his answer. Which being done in the Hall before all the company, he further intreated him under his hand and Seale to cause it to be set downe, how he could discharge him of committing so great a sinne; and that if he would take the guilt thereof upon him­selfe 70 and his, then he would answer him. The pre­sident hearing how he came about him, was so confounded in himselfe for a while, that hee could not speake. But by and by he bad take away the Villaine, and so he was never called before him againe.

¶ Papists committed their children to Pro­testants, to bee preserved from being de­flowred.

AMong other things (saith my Author) this is to be observed, that during these troubles in the Valleyes of Angrongne from the yeare 1555 vnto the yeare 1561. The Papists which dwelt in the Country conveyed their daughters away into the Mountaines, and committed the custody of them to these poore persecuted Christians of Vandois, for feare lest their chastities should be violated by the common souldiers, according as they had béene threatned by them, who were gi­ven over to all villainy and cruelty.

¶ An assemble of the faithfull, descried nigh to Antwerpe, was by the enemies of the Gospel put to flight, of which three being apprehended, two escaped, and one named Barthelemi de Hoy was executed Anno 1561.

THe third day of the moneth of August in the yeare 1561, when great triumphs were usu­ally made in the city of Antwerpe about the plays and prizes of Rhetorike (as they call them) to the sight and hearing whereof there common­ly came great multitudes from many places: those of the Religion being willing to take all opportunities to méete together in the feare of God, whilest others were busted in séeing and be­holding those vanities: a great number withdrew themselves out of the City, and entered into a wood, nigh unto Marksem, that there they might heare the word of God preached with lively voice by the preachers thereof.

The Dorsart of Marklem being advertised thereof, resorted thither with his Officers, being conducted to the place by certaine poore youths, being Nete-heards, whom he promised to appa­rell, if they could bring him to any place of the wood where the assembly was; Whilest himselfe staying without, with two or three other on horse­backe, sent the rest of his Officers with the boyes into the wood. At the appearing of these wolves the poore shéepe of Christ began to be affrighted, and to flie. The Ministers and others séeing this disorder admonished the assembly not to stir, shew­ing how great inconveniences would follow up­on such an inconsiderate flight. The persecutors were not above five or six, but the persecuted were about foure or five hundred persons; so as without any great difficulty they might have had the bet­ter hand of them. The principall aime which the Officers had, was to apprehend the Minister. For having caught one of the assembly, thinking hee had beene the man, they cryed one to another. Hold the Priest fast, striking him with their Pi­stols and staves, and so brought him out of the wood. The Dorsart, perceiving that this was not the Minister, kept him notwithstanding as his prey, and left not pursuing this scattered flock untill night. After this hée tooke two others in the Lordship of Akeram.

Thus having apprehended these three prisoners, and withall having taken up many cloakes, hats, vailes, foreparts, and other accout [...]ents, which the poore dispersed had lost and let fall, these they tooke away as a spoyle, and returned to Marke­sem. [Page 20] This Dorsart layd hold on two others by the way, whom he supposed to be of that number, one of which was Barthelemi de Hoye, a Joyner, of the age of twenty foure yeares. These five were committed to prison one from another, some at Marksem, and others at Damme. Soone af­ter the first thrée which had béene taken in the Iu­risdiction of Akerem had the meanes to escape without any danger or detriment, by the assistance of their friends. Barthelemi onely remained in 10 the custody of the Dorsart, before whom he endu­red many ba [...]ings through the Parson of that place, being set on by him: Besides many others who daily by way of scorne questioned with him; asking, Why such a young man as he could not Carnall rea­sons used by carnal people. content himselfe with their religion and glorious Church, adorned with silver, gold, and precious stones, in which there was such melodious musick, both of voices and instruments, but must néedes joyne himselfe to that Church which was hated, 20 despised, and exposed to all inconveniences what­soever. But Barthelemi overcame all these temp­tations by the grace and power of the Almighty, manifesting it to all, that that which is greatly estéemed amongst men is altogether an abhomi­nation Luk. 16. 45. in the sight of God. Having then often justified the cause of God, and reproved the Ro­man Church of false doctrine, knowne by the fruits thereof, viz. the hatefull lives of the priests, &c. he was after a few daies brought out of Pri­son, 30 and at last beheaded the nine and twentieth of August, betwéene foure and five of the Clocke in the morning, Ann. 1561.

¶ A relation touching the Massacre at Vassy in the countrey of Champaigne in France.

THe Duke of Guise being arrived at Ioin­ville, 40 asked of such as he was familiar with­all, whether those of Vassy used to have sermons preached constantly by their minister. It was answered they had, and that they encreased daily more and more. At the hearing of which report falling into a grievous chase, upon Saturday the last of February, 1562. that he might the more covertly execute his conceived wrath against the religious sort in Vassy, he departed from Ioin­ville, accompanied with the Cardinall of Guise 50 his brother, and those of their traine, and lodged in the village of Dammartin the frée, which is di­stant from Ioinville about two French miles and a halfe.

The next day being Sunday, which was the first of March, after he had heard Masse very early in the morning, being attended with about two hundred men armed with harquebuses, Pi­stols, and Coutelaxes, he left Dammartin pas­sing along to Vassy. As he went by the Village 60 of Bronzevall, which is distant from Vassy but a small quarter of a mile, the bell (after the usuall manner) rang to the Sermon. The Duke hea­ring it, asked such as he met with by the way, why y^e bell rung so loud at Vassy. They told him it was to give the people warning of the Sermon which was to be made there. Then one called La Montague said, It is for the assembling of the Huguenots: adding moreover, that there were many in the said Bronzevall who frequented the 70 sermons preached at Vassy; and therefore that the Duke should do well to begin there, and offer them violence. But the Duke answered, March on, march on, we shall take them among the rest of the assembly. Many who followed the Duke, to wit, pages and footmen, rejoyced not a little con­cerning this bloudy enterprise; not sticking to say, that the booty and pillage would fall to their shares; swearing by blood and wounds, that there would be good store of Huguenots there.

Now there were certaine souldiers and archers accompanying the, Duke, who compassed about Vassy; for, having béene mustered at Monthic­xender, in stead of returning home, as they were wont to do after the muster was ended, they took their way thence to Vassy, most of them being lodged in the houses of Papists. The Saturday before the slaughter they were séene to make rea­dy their weapons, harquebuses, and Pistols: but the Faithfull not dreaming of such a conspiracy, thought the duke would offer them no hard mea­sure, being the Kings subjects, also, that not above two moneths before the Duke and his bre­thren passing by nigh unto the said Vassy, gave no signe of their displeasure.

The Duke of Guise being arrived at Vassy with all his troupes, a young man a shoomaker stepping out of his house not farre from the doore where the assembly was, Montague pointing to him with his finger said he was one of the Mini­sters. Whereupon the Duke called this shooma­ker to him, and asked of him whether he were a Minister, and of what Vniversity he was. Hee answered, that he was not of that Calling, nei­ther was he a scholler. Notwithstanding he hard­ly escaped from this troupe, which had invironed him round about: only one of the company told him, That if he had béene a Minister he had taken So it is dee­med in the eye of the word. upon him a very base Calling.

From thence the Duke, La Brosse, and La Montague passed on in the said City with their souldiers, as if they minded to take their way to­wards the village of Esclairon, where it was gi­ven out hee meant to dine. But passing by the market house of Vassy, which is right over against and nigh unto the monastery in the way leading to Esclairon, he turned and went directly toward the Common Hall or market house, and then en­tred into the Monastery, where having called to him one named Dessalles, the Prior of Vassy, and another whose name was Claude le Sain, being the Provost of the said Vassy, he talked a while with them, and issuing hastily out of the Mona­stery was attended by many of his Followers. Then commandement was given to such as were. Papists, to retyre into the Monastery, and not to be séene in the stréets, unlesse they would ven­ture the losse of their lives. The Duke perceiving others of his retinue to be walking to and fro un­der the towne Hall and about the Churchyard commanded them to march on towards the place where the sermon was, being in a Barne distant from the Monastery about some hundred paces, quite opposite to that way which the Duke should take to Esclairon. This command was by and by put in execution by such of the company as went on foot, going directly thither. Hee that marched formost of this rabble was La Brosse, and on the side of these marched the horsemen, after whom followed the Duke with another company, as of his own followers, so likewise of those of the Car­dinall of Guise his brother.

By this time Master Leonard Morrel the Mi­nister, after the first prayer ended, and having be­gun his sermon before his auditors, which might amount to about 1200 persons, consisting of men, women, and children: The horsemen first ap­proching to the Barne within a matter of twenty five paces, shot off five harquebuses right upon those who were placed in the galleries joyning to the windows. The people within perceiving that, they who were nigh to the dore used means to shut it, but were disappointed, because this disordered company pressed in upon them: who forthwith un­sheathing their swords, cried furiously out, Death of God, kill, kill these Huguenots.

The first they seized on was a poore Cryer of Anno 1559. Wine, who stood next the doore, asking him, if he were not a Huguenot, and in whom he beléeved? Having answered that he beléeved in Iesus Christ, they smote him twice with a sword upon his body, which felled him to the ground. Being got up againe thinking to recover himselfe, they strucke him the third time, whereby being over­charged with wounds he fell downe and dyed in­stantly. Two other men at the same time were 10 slaine at the entry of the said doore as they were pressing out to escape.

Then did the Guise with his company violent­ly enter in among them, striking downe maine blowes upon the poore people with swords, dag­gers, and Coutelaxes, not sparing any age or sex. Besides, they within were so astonied that they knew not which way to turne them, but running hither and thither fell one upon another, flying as poore shéepe before a company of ravening 20 Wolves entring in among the flocke.

Some of the murtherers shot off their péeces against them that were in the Galleries; others cut in péeces such as they lighted upon; others had their heads cleft in twaine, their arms and hands cut off, and did what they could to hew them all to péeces; so as many of them gave up the ghost even in the place. The walls and Galleries of the said Barne were Dyed with the blood of those who were every where murthered: yea, so great 30 was the fury of the murtherers, that part of the people within were forced to break open the roofe of the house, if peradventure that way they might save themselves upon the top thereof.

Being got thither, and then fearing to fall again into the hands of these cruell tygers, some of them leaped over the walls of the City, which were ve­ry high, flying into the woods and amongst the vines, which with most expedition they could soo­nest attaine unto; some hurt in their armes, 40 others in their heads and other parts of their bo­dies. The Duke presented himselfe in the house with his sword drawne in his hand, charging his men to kill, especially the yong men. Onely in the end women with child were spared. But pur­suing those who pressed to get upon the house top, they cryed, Come downe ye dogges, come downe, using many cruell threatning spéeches unto them.

The cause why women with childe escaped, 50 was, as the report went, for the Dutches sake his wife, who passing along by the walls of the City, hearing so hideous out-cries which were made amongst these poore creatures, with the noyse of The dutchesse intreats for a pacification; that those of her sex being with childe might not bee affrighted. the péeces and pistols continually discharged, sent in all haste to the Duke her husband with much entreaties to cease this persecution, for frighting women with childe.

During this slaughter the Cardinall of Guise remained before the Church of the said Citie of 60 Vassi, leaning upon the wals of the church-yard, looking towards the place where his followers were busied in killing and slaying whom they could. Many of this assembly being thus hotely pursued, did in the first brunt save themselves up­on the roofe of the house, not being discerned of those which stood without: but at length some of this bloody crue espying where they lay hid, shot at them with long pieces, wherewith many of them were hurt and slain. The houshold servants 70 A lamentable spectacle. of Dessalles Prior of Vassi, shooting at the roofe people, caused them to fall downe from the roofe like pigeons: one of that wretched company was not ashamed to boast after the massacre was en­ded, That he for his part had caused sixe at the least to tumble downe in that pittifull plight, say­ing, that if others had done the like, not many of them could possibly have escaped.

The Minister in the beginning of the massacre ceased not to preach still, till one discharged his piece against the pulpit where he stood, after which falling downe upon his knées, he entreated the Lord not onely to have mercy upon himselfe, but also upon his poore persecuted floke. Having ended his prayer, he left his gowne behinde him, thinking thereby to kéepe himselfe, as unknown: b [...]t whilest he approached towards the dore, in his fear he stumbled upon a dead body, where he re­ceived a blow with a sword upon his right shoul­der. Getting up againe, and then thinking to get forth, he was immediately laid hold on and grie­vously hurt on the head with a sword, whereupon being felled to the ground, and féeling himselfe mortally wounded, he cryed, Lord into thy hand I Psal. 31. 5.commend my spirit, for thou hast redeemed me, thou God of truth.

Whilest he thus prayed, one of this bloody crue ran upon him to have houghed him, but it plea­sed God his sword brake in the hilts. Now to let you understand by what meanes he was delive­red from so imminent a death, two gentlemen ta­king knowledge of him, as the rest were about to kill him, said, it is the Minister, let him be con­veyed to my Lord Duke. These leading him away by both the armes, brought him before the gate of the Monastery, from whence the Duke and the Cardinall his brother comming forth said, come hither, and asked him, saying, Art thou the Minister of this place? who made thée so bold to seduce this people thus? Sir, said the Minister, I am no seducer, for I have preached to them the Gospell of Iesus Christ. The Duke perceiving that this short and pithy answer condemned his cruell fact, began to curse and sweare, saying, Death of God, doth the Gospell preach sedition? Provost, goe and let a Gibbet be set up, and hang this bougrer.

At which words the Minister was delivered in­to the hands of two Pages, who misused him vile­ly. The women of the City being ignorant Pa­pists caught up dirt to throw in his face, and with extended outcries said, Kill him, kill this varlet, who hath béen the cause of the slaughter of so ma­ny. Much adoe there was to hold off the women from being revenged upon the poore Minister.

Whilst the Pages had him thus in their hand­ling, the Duke went into the barn, to whom they presented a great Bible, which they used for the service of God. The Duke taking it into his hands, calling his brother the Cardinall said, Loe here the Title of the Huguenot books. The Car­dinall viewing it, sayd, There is nothing but good in this book, for it is the Bible, to wit, the holy Scriptures. The Duke being offended for that his answer suited not to his humor, grew into a greater rage than before, saying, Blood of God, how now? what? the holy Scripture. It is a thou­sand and five hundred yéerey agoe since Iesus Christ suffered his death and passion, and it is but a yéere since these bookes were imprinted, how then say you that this is the Gospell? by the death of God you say you know not what. This imbridled fury of the Duke displeased the Car­dinall, so as he was heard secretly to mutter, An unworthy Brother. This Massacre continued a full houre, the Dukes trumpeters sounding the whilst two severall times. When any of these de­sired to have mercy shewed them for the love of Iesus Christ, the murtherers in scorne would say unto them, you use the name of Christ, but where is your Christ now become? And when they said Lord God, they blasphemingly would A grievous scorne. say, Lord devill.

There dyed in this Massacre within a few daies fifty or thréescore persons; besides these, there were about two hundred and fifty others as well [Page 22] men as women who were wounded and spoiled, Anno 1563. whereof some died, some were maimed, losing some a leg, some an arme; some their fingers cut off from their hands, and caried away. The poores The poores mony violent­ly taken away and never af­ter restored. box which was fastned to the doore of the Church with two Iron hookes, was wrested thence, with twelve pounds therein, and never restored again. Nothing was to be séene in the stréets but Wo­men with their haire hanging about their eares, faces besmeared with blood, being wounded in 10 many places with swords and daggers, with wée­pings and lamentations. Barbers and Chirurgi­ans were so set on worke, that he which had least had thréescore under his hand to be dressed, and many perished for want thereof.

The Minister was kept close prisoner, so as for foure and twenty houres none were permitted to supply him with any necessaries at all, nor any suffered to sée him or speake with him, and was oft threatned by his kéepers to be sowed up in a 20 sack and drowned. Faine would they have drawn him to have kept his Easter after the Popish guise, under faire premises of his inlargement; but he would by no means consent thereto. Thus continued he prisoner untill the eight day of May, 1563. at which time he was set frée by the suit of the most illustrious prince of Portion.

Whilest the Duke was at Esclairon, the Lac­keys and others of their sort put to sale, unto such as would give most, cloaks, hats, girdles, Coifes, 30 Kerchiefes, with other things which they had spoi­led the massacred of; Crying them with a loud voyce, as if a common cryer had cryed houshold stuffe to be sold.

A memorable deliverance.

ONe called Iohn of the Gardens, having li­ved 40 a long time with his wife and childe (in regard of the present troubles) abroad in the fields nigh to a City called Seulis in France, at length determining to goe backe againe into the Citie, casting himselfe and his upon the providence of God, were met in the suburbs by two of the Ci­tie, who willed the souldiers to put them to the sword. The mother of the childe knéeling downe asked not her owne life, but requested that if they must néeds dye, they would first kill her child, be­cause 50 séeing it die before her, she might die with the lesse sorrow, fearing lest the poore babe should otherwise (in such a time of trouble) be left to shift for it selfe; which spéech of hers so wrought upon the souldiers, that they saved all their lives.

The strange deliverance of a godly Minister of the Church of Chaalons in Champaign 60 called l. He at the first was doctor of the Sorbo­nists; a man well learned and of an un­blameable life. Fournier, after he had indured many hardusages.

FIrst being apprehended and spoyled of all that he had, they stripped him of his good apparell, and then put an old thred-bare Cloke upon him, and carried him away in a Cart, in regard of a hurt which he had formerly gotten in one of his féet; by reason whereof he was disabled to go, and 70 so was conducted with infinite jests broken upon him, and at every moment in danger of his life for sixe miles together, till he came to Manehon, where he had like to have béene pulled in pieces by the rude multitude, but was preserved notwith­standing even by those who had already determi­ned to be his death; the prison also being nigh unto the gate of the City.

The thirtéenth of September, a Captaine cal­led Fraisne came to the prison where he was de­tained, accompanied with many souldiers, who with mocks and threats mingled together sware that within thrée houres he should be hewed and hacked in péeces, and so should be made a May­game to all the Citie, with which words he left him. Godet the kings Lievetenant with other of the Iustices came in after him, demanding wher­fore he was brought to S. Manehon, & forthwith commanded the Iaylour to load him with yrons, telling him in scorne, you are no better than saint Peter I am sure, whom they laid in yron. But if you have as much faith as he, God will then de­liver you, as he did him, by sending an Angell un­to you. I will not, said the prisoner, compare my selfe with saint Peter: yet it is not twelve yeres agoe since (for preaching the same doctrine that Saint Peter did (I was imprisoned at Tou­louse, and yet admirably delivered: and though Saint Peter was delivered out of prison, yet in the end he glorified God by his death. And if I shall be counted worthy to suffer with him for the truth, may it not be said that I have the like pre­tious saith as Saint Peter had? but for that time he esaped those bolts, having hurt his leg and foot very sore at his apprehension: His Shackles at that time were turned into a far more straight prison.

The Duke of Nevers was a good friend unto this Fournier, by whose mediation he was the rather spared. But the said Duke receiving an hurt at Dreux whereof he dyed, and the Duke of Guise succéeding him in the government of Champaigne, his enemies began to renue their former grudge against him, who brought him to be examined by torture.

Where first they strayned both his thumbs so hard with asmall Cord, that the blood came forth. Then turning his armes behinde his backe, they hoysed him with a rope put betwéene his thumbs so tyed; twitching him up five or sixe times there­by, sometimes letting him down, and then letting him hang againe, till his spirits and spéech fay­led him. But not content therewith they tyed a great stone to both the great toes of his féet, and then examined him; first if he had not a purpose to preach at Verdun, if the company who condu­cted him thither came together; his answer was, That he could not determine to doe that which he had no hope to performe, nor came it into his thought.

Then they asked him where he had those clothes hee wore, séeing he was but barely cloathed when he came into prison? He answered, That the Marquesse D'Ile when she went from Chaa­lons, sent them unto him by her Iaylor. Being further asked who taught him to refuse his judge, his answer was, That his owne reason coun­selled him so to doe, & none else. This was the ef­fect of that for which he was so miserably tortured, and so in conclusion they let him fall with such vio­lence on his face, that he was grievously hurt thereon.

Being from thence removed to another pri­son according to their custome for two or thrée houres, and then returned to that he was in be­fore, h [...] could not be permitted to have so much as a Chirurgion to cure him of the gashes the Cords had made in his Flesh, even to the bare bones: by reason whereof he continued in excée­ding torment and anguish, not being able to bring his hands to his mouth, which were also so wrung that he thought if God should grant him life, yet he should yet be deprived of the use of his limbes.

His inditement being framed, and his con­demnation subscribed by sundry Iudges thereun­to [Page 23] appointed, some other being of another opinion Anno 1559. disappointed that determination. The news also of the Duke of Guises death comming in the neck of it, changed these Foxes into another shape. The names of the principall wherof were This Bussi was a gover­nor of Cham­paigne, a co­vetous wretch and an enemy to religion. Cocot and Bussi. Some that had béen his Iudges, comming into the prison, demanded of him if he bare them not ill will: he answered, that men of his profession and religion ought not to malice any, no not their enemies, being rather enjoyned 10 by God to love and pray for those that persecuted them; shewing furthermore, that whatsoever troubles had befallen him were none other but such as God had foreordained for the setting forth of his owne glory; for which he estéemed himselfe most happy: only he warned them to bethinke themselves well what wrong they had offered him, lest the vengeance of God might sometime or other overtake them.

The next day, being the twelfth of April, Bus­si, 20 having received letters from the Constable for the enlargement of Fournier, being sollicited thereto by the Captaine of La Tournelle; in stead of obeying the Constables command sware that he should be delivered indéed, that is to say, into the hands of the multitude: and thus stiffely refusing either the publication of the letters, or to observe the Edict, caused thrée of his prisoners of the religion to be put into the dungeon, because he heard them sing Psalmes.

In the meane while the Prince of Portien brin­ging 30 backe the Germane souldiers, and passing by Chaalons, the chiefe men of that City, fearing to be overrunne, met him; whom he threatned to leave neither village nor house standing, un­lesse they restored to him the said Fournier in safety. Which they promising to doe, at their re­turne they so far prevailed with Bussi, that he consented to what they had so promised. And thus on the last of April (which was eight moneths 40 since Fournier was first imprisoned) the Lieute­nant Godet, and the Abbat of All Saints, with some others resorted to him, declaring that they were willing now to set him at liberty; entreat­ing him now to forgive and forget that which was past, that the Prince might sée how forward they were to gratifie him herein. Fournier was brought into a Cathedrall Church not farre from the prison, where he found the Captaine of the Ci­ty with a great company of armed men ready to 50 conduct him out of towne. But the place was forthwith beset with people whom Bussi to that purpose had stirred up, so that had it not béen for those who defended him within, and an extraordi­nary showre of raine comming betwéene of long continuance, which cause the greater part of the seditious to depart, Fournier had hardly escaped their hands, if a meanes had not béen found to let him out by a back doore.

It is here to be noted, that upon the eighth day 60 of October the Bishop of Chaalons calling Four­nier into his garden, endeavouring to turne him from the faith, said, I marvell how you, being an ancient Doctor in Divinity, of the age of fifty eight yeares, and so well learned in the tongues, should be thus led aside with these opinions, gi­ving credit so suddenly to the writings of Calvin and others. To Calvin? said Fournier, you should rather have said, by beléeving and giving credit to the Word of God.

Godet bestirring him, and being now farre more willing to save the said Fourniers life, than 70 he had béen formerly to deprive him of it, in the evening bringing him to his owne house, and lod­ging him in his owne bed, did what he could the next day very early to send for the keyes of the City gates. Which when he could not obtain of Bussi, who kept the gatesfast shut for feare of the Swart Ruttors, he then endeavoured to bring the said Fournier secretly by a back way, to an house néere to the gate of the said City; so as at eleven of the clocke, certaine Coaches going out, he was shuffled out amidst them, and himselfe brought him on the way about a quarter of a mile; where he was by and by received by those who at­tended there for him, with a charge to bring him to their Prince, who at that time was in the Ca­stle of Songz: Where he was kindly welcom­med of the said Lord, and of all his friends be­sides, having compassion on him, in regard that now being fifty eight yeares old, he had suffered so many hard encounters. And within two dayes after he preached before the prince and all his Fol­lowers; and the day following, at the instant re­quest of those of Vitri, went thither to preach and baptise children, the Prince being present there in his own person. At length Fournier, gathering a Church together at a place called Ver, spent some small portion of time among his Flocke there, with wonderfull fruit: being sore weakned when he was in prison, (what with strait dyet, and the extremity of the torture) he soone after finished his course, leaving to posterity a rare memory of his constancy and piety.

¶ Savage cruelties committed upon the per­sons of the godly at Bar upon Seine.

SUch was the cruelty of the Executioners after they had slaine those of the religion, that clea­ving their bodies in twaine, they stucke not to plucke their hearts thence, as they lay upon the ground, gnawing them betwéen their téeth, and so reaching them from one to another, saying, now they knew they had eaten the heart of a Hu­guenot before they dyed.

¶ The violent rage of the souldiers at Isson­dun, who proceeded so far as to re-baptise the young Children of Protestants after the Popish manner.

THe souldiers in this City of Issondon tooke little children who had béene baptised by the Ministers of the Church there, and caused them to be re-baptised by their Priests, imposing upon them other names; yea, they re-baptised a girle of thirtéene yeares old, whom they presented stark naked to the Font. Yet the yong Infants which began only to speake declared both by evident signes, and words that they would not be re-bap­tised, so as a girle of two yeares old, being brought naked to the Font, with much struggling cryed with a loud voice, that their doings were too shamefull; saying that she would not be baptised againe, and therewithall strooke the Priest with all the power she had. Also the son of Iean [...], of the same age, tooke the Priest by the beard, and defended it selfe as well as it could. But for all this the Priests would not give over.

¶ Another barbarous cruelty committed by Anno 1563.the Pesants of Fresnay in the County of Main.

IN the village of Fresnay, distant about some ten miles from the City of Mans, a little after that those of the religion had forsaken the City, a 10 certaine Weaver called Hagannot, who was wont to reade the prayers in the assembly among some few of the godly in that place, was haled in the night out of his house by the Pesants there, who having cut his throat afterward filled his mouth with the leaves of a new Testament which they found about him.

¶ Execrable blasphemies and outrages 20 committed in the City of Angiers.

A Company of rake-hels breaking into a mer­chants house, found there many Bibles, which they burned in the City; but choosing out a great Bible amongst the rest, gilt and faire ruled, they fastned it upon the point of an halberd, and going thence, went in procession therewith through the high stréets of the City, with a great cry, saying, 30 Voila la veri­tié pendue, la veritié des Huguenots, la veritié de tout les Diables: voila la Dieu le fort, l'eter­nel parlara, &c. Lo, here the truth hangeth, the verity of the Hugue­nots, the truth of all the devills; lo, here the God, the mighty God hath spoken. And in this man­ner they passed along untill they came to the bridge, where they threw it into the river, saying, Behold the truth of all the devills drowned.

¶ A strange course to make victuals cheape. 40

IN the City of Bloys, whilest those of the reli­gion were cruelly handled, it so fell out, that in such a disorder even the Romane Catholiques themselves dranke with them of the same cup; in regard whreof complaint was made on both parts, to the Duke of Guise, in hope of some re­dresse. His answer was, that the Kingdome was but too much replenished with people, and there­fore 50 his purpose was to cut off as many as he could, that so all kinde of victuals might be sold better cheape.

¶ An outrage done to poore women, who met together to comfort one another.

THere was an honest woman of the City of Blois, whose name was Nichole, the wife of one Iohn le Manchet, a maker of Sun-Dials, in whose house certaine neighbours méeting toge­ther to comfort and edifie one another, and to pray one with and for another, to the number of nine or thereabouts, with their daughters, these Mur­therers hearing of it ranne violently in among them, thinking to have found a Minister preach­ing to them; but when they saw how they were 70 mistaken, they dragged them out by the haire of the head into the middest of the stréet; where loa­ding them with abundance of stripes they cast them into the river: in which calamity God endu­ed them with such strength and skill, being un­bound, that endeavouring to swimme, at length they arrived at an Isle: where being seised upon againe by certaine Ferrimen, they were stripped naked, and then throwne againe into the River: and thinking yet to save themselves, they were in the end knocked downe by the seditious in the suburbs of Vienna.

¶ A pitifull and tragicall spectacle.

A Certaine poore woman of Tours, whose hus­band they had not long before drowned, ha­ving an Infant about sixe or seven wéekes old sucking at her breasts, and holding by the hand a daughter of hers, very beautifull to looke upon, of the age of 15. or 16. yeares, was by many insolencies haled to the river side, where having made her prayer upon her knées, the childe suck­ing at her breast, she shifted it there in the sun, and after laid it upon the grasse, then knéeling downe againe, commended it to God. Meane while this hellish-rable used many words to turne the yong maiden from her religion, some using sore threats, others making her many faire promises. One of the soldiers, being a braver gallant than the rest, promised her marriage, so as the poore wench stood in a mammering, not knowing what to doe. Her Mother séeing her wavering, earnestly exhorted her to persist in the truth, her self being at that in­stant ready to be plunged into the water. The daughter beholding such an outrage, crying out used these words (all which was afterwards testi­fied by those who were consenting to this mur­ther, being also converted themselves by such a rare example of constancy) I will said she live and die with my mother, whom I know to be a ver­tuous woman: as for your threates and promi­ses, I regard them not, do with me as you please. The Mother was not yet dead when these merci­lesse wretches threw in the daughter after her, who making towards her Mother and they both embracing each other, yéelded up their soules in­to the hands of God. The poore Infant was ta­ken up by a soldier, who, having kept it a day and a night from the breast, laid it the next day in a Church porch, whence being taken up, and given to a nurse to kéep, it would never take the breast after, but within two daies it dyed.

¶ An history containing the singular con­stancy of a Christian Woman, together with her gracious Answers to her adver­saries.

IN the same City of Tours, the death of an ho­nest Matron called Glée is very remarkable. This woman having much profited in the know­ledge of Gods word, was presented before Cha­vigny, before whom she gave a reason of her faith, confirmed by testimonies of scripture, with such constancy in the presence of certaine Fryers and Priests, that in the end they gave her no other answer but this, that she was in a damnable estate. It séemes so indéed, said shée, being now in your hands; but I have a God that will nei­ther leave nor forsake me for all that. Thou hast, said they, renounced the Faith. It is true, said she, I have renounced your faith; which I am able to shew is rejected and accursed of God, and there­fore deserves not so much as to be called Faith. Upon this they committed her to prison, where she was againe sollicited to recant; to which pur­pose they sent certaine women unto her into the prison; but all in vaine: for on the contrary she spake her minde fréely, and comforted the prisoners [Page 25] which were in the same prison with her for reli­gion. Anno 1562.

Now it happened one morning, as shee was about to take some bodily refreshing, newes was brought her that shee was condemned to be han­ged with thrée men also. Which newes she re­ceived with such joy and rejoicing, that the officer had no sooner ended his message, but forthwith she knéeling on her knées began to praise and mag­nifie the name of God, in that he had shewed her 10 so much mercy, as to deliver her by such a kinde of death out of the troubles of this wretched world; as also for that it pleased the Lord to honor her so far as to die for his truth, and to weare his livery, meaning the halter which the hangman had now put about her necke. Then sitting downe at table to breake her fast with the rest of the company, gi­ving thanks to God, shée exhorted them to be of good courage, and to trust unto the end in his frée and only mercy. Lastly, having sent her children 20 some such small trifles as shée then had about her, shée called for a cleane linnen Wastecote, making her selfe ready, as if shée had béen going to a wed­ding.

Being conducted thus with the rest of the priso­ners about two of the clocke in the afternoone, and passing by Saint Martins Church, she was com­manded to receive a torch into her hand, and to ac­knowledge shée had offended God and the King, Away, away, said she, with it; I have neither offen­ded 30 God nor the King, according to your meaning, nor in respect of the cause for which I suffer. I am I confesse a sinnefull woman; but I need no such light, for helping me to aske forgivenesse of God for my sins past or present: use such things your selves, who sit and walke in the darknesse of igno­rance and error.

Then one of her kinsfolkes met her in the way, and presented unto her view her little children, praying her to have compassion on them, séeing that 40 by renouncing her religion she might yet preserve her life, and sée them provided for. Upon this mée­ting her motherly affection caused her to shed plen­ty of teares: but by and by taking unto her new courage, I must needs tell you, said she, that I love my children dearly: but yet neither for love I bear to them or any thing else in this world, will I re­nounce the truth, or my God, who is and will be a Father unto them, to provide better for them than I could have done; and therefore to his providence 50 and protection I commend and leave them; and so passed on chéerfully without being any further daunted.

Drawing nigh to the place of execution, she cal­led upon God without ceasing, lifting her hands up to Heaven. Now the men which came with her being ready to suffer, when shée saw them about to die silent, and not to call on God, she exhor­ted them thereto, and began aloud to rehearse the confession of sinnes, which begins thus, Lord God 60 Almighty and everlasting Father, &c. and so conti­nuing forth the ordinary prayers, reciting also the Lords prayer, and the Articles of the Créed, shée with much peace and joy in the holy Ghost fini­shed her life.

¶ A Note touching the King of Navarre that then was.

DUring the siege of Rovan, Anthony of Bour­bon King of Navarre, being forsaken of his faithfull friends and servants for conniving with the campe of Trium-Zirat, was shot into the right shoulder with an Harquebuse, the fiftéenth day of October, whereof he dyed the seventéenth following. Not many houres before his death, with teares in his eyes, he asked pardon of God, making a confession of his faith, according to the forme then used amongst those of the Religion; And yet but eight daies be­fore, through ill counsel and the solicitati­on of the Bi­shop of Man­de (one of them that be­trayed him) he was confessed in the eare of the officiall of Rovan, & com­municated af­ter the popish manner. protesting that if he might be cured of his wound he would cause the gospell to be prenched through­out all the Kingdome of France. Hée was a Prince endowed with many good gifts of God, naturally of a gentle disposition, and yet a vala­rous and couragious warriour, but so addicted to follow his pleasures and delights, that to enjoy them, he easily abandoned the care of his more weighty affaires, and so was subject to no small inconvenience, namely to be ill served and obey­ed; in the meane while neglecting the services of such as had béen his loyall and affectionate sub­jects: An imperfection which hath cost France a million of mens lives, with immunerable ruines besides; an end whereof is not suddenly to be ex­pected.

The death and Martyrdome of Augustine Marlorat, one of the Ministers of the re­formed Church in Rovan, as also of three other personages, who suffered with him at the same time, Anno, 1562.

AMongst the garboyles which by the seditious were moved at Rovan, Captaine Saint Estevo seized upon the bodies of Augustine Mar­lorat, of Du-Bosck, Sieur de Mandreville, Cru­chet, Sieur de Soquence, and Noel Cotton. Mandreville perceiving this Captaine to be no well willer of theirs, yet promised him a thousand Crownes, if he would save his life and the life of Marlorat, one of their Ministers: which he having promised to doe, by and by he shewed him the place whereinto Marlorat was retired, namely [...]ower into which himselfe, his wife and children were put, with some others. Thus being hath brought together, the doore was presently fast shut upon them.

The seven and twentieth of October the Con­stable (accompanied with the Duke of Guise) comming to view the place, desired to sée Marlorat, to whom he said, you are he who have seduced the people. To which he replyed, That if he had sedu­ced them, it was God that had béene the doer of it rather than he; for, said he, I have preached nothing unto them but his Divine truth. The Constable told him, that he was a seditious per­son, and the cause of the ruine of that City. To which he answered, As for that imputation, I re­fer my selfe to all that have heard me preach, bée they Papists or Protestants, whether I ever medled with matters of politike State or no: but contrariwise have according to my ability, labored to instruct them out of the holy Scriptures. The Constable with an oath replyed, That he and his abettors plotted together to make the Prince of Conde, King, the [...] Duke of Normandy, and Antelot Duke of Britaine. To which Marlo­rat answering and testifying the innocency of those noble personages, gat onely this for his labour, the Constable told him (confirming it with a so­lemne oath, that within a few dayes hée should sée whether his God could deliver him out of his hands or no; and to departed in great [...].

Not long [...] these [...], to wit, Marlorat, Mandreville S [...]quence and Co [...]on, and other chiefe men of the Church were brought into the [Page 26] pallace. But the names of the foure above speci­fied were onely taken, and forthwith their indite­ment drawne; whence presently succéeded the sen­tence at the instance of Bigot Advocate for the King which sentence here followeth.

The Court having béen informed by the In­terrogatories and confessions of the seditious in the city of Rovan, and other parts of the countrey, namely by M. Io. du Bosc of Mandreville, Presi­dent of the court of Requests in Rovan, Vin­cent 10 Gruchet Seignior of Sequence, an antient Counsellor in the said City, Noel Cotton seignior of Barthonville, the Kings Notary and Secreta­ry, and Counsellor also of the said City, with Au­gustine Marlorat Preacher and Minister in the said City, Monke and Priest, having a wife, be­ing all prisoners in the ConsciergeryThe name of a spacious prison. of the said Court; conclusions against them being taken by the Kings Atturney generall, all and every thing and circumstance considered, the court hath and 20 doth declare the foure persons aforesaid guilty and convicted of high treason in every particular: for the punishment and satisfaction whereof the court hath adjudged and doth adjudge the said Bosc to be drawne naked, onely a shirt upon him, on a sled or hurdle, into the old market place, and there to be beheaded upon the scaffold of the city; which done, his head to be set upon a pole and placed upon the bridge of the said City; and his body divided into foure parts to be set upon foure gibbets, for 30 a spectacle to the beholders.

And as touching Gruchet and Cotton it is de­créed, that they shall also be drawne in like man­ner upon a sled before the towne house of the Ci­ty, there to be hanged upon a gibbet, and after­wards their heads, being separated from their bo­dies, to be affixed and set up upon the bridge of the said City, and afterwards to be carried to the gibbet.

And as touching the said Morlorat, the Court 40 testifies that he is attainted and guilty of béeing one of the authors of the great assemblies, which have béen the cause of rebellion and Civill wars. And therefore as a punishment, to satisfie the law for these crimes, the Court hath condemned and doth condemne the said Marlorat, otherwise cal­led Pasquier, to be drawne upon a sled, and to be hanged upon a gibbet before our Ladies Church in Rovan: this done, his head to be striken off from his body, and set upon a pole upon a bridge 50 of the said City. All their goods and heritages to be con [...]ate to the Kings use, &c.

And underneath it was written;

Alexander Moyss, Morterule, and Si­rend 60 Messengers, the last of October, Anno 1562.

MAndraville at his death shewed a wonder­full The death of Mandravill. constancy, expecting the stroke without being bound, calling earnestly upon God, speak­ing in the just defence of the reformed Churches, in the faith of which doctrine he protested he was now prest to yéeld up his soule into the hands of 70 God.

AS touching Augustine Marlorat, a man ex­cellently learned, and of an unblameable life, who had the testimony even of the Papists them­selves, that in his sermons he never uttered ought that tended to sedition or rebellion; they were not content to sée him drawne upon a hur­dle with shame and contempt, but also the Con­stable Marlorate [...] used disgrace­fully as he went to be executed. loaded him with a thousand disgraces and outrages; as also a son of his called Nombron slain soone after in the battell of Dreur. Besides, Villebon gave him a switch with a wand, not without reproachfull spéeches also. But he not­withstanding bare all indignities very méekly and patiently.

When he was come to the place where hée His behavi­our at his death. should suffer, he made an excellent spéech, accord­ing as the time there permitted him; exhorting Gruchet and Cotton, who were to suffer with him, to stand fast in the faith unto the end: which they also did. And yet the rage of the people not being herewith satisfied, a soldier with his sword strooke at Marlorats leg, being already dead. Upon which insolencies God within a while after executed his just vengeance; for the Captaine Strange judgements of God befal­ling such as had an hand in persecuting of him. who surprised Marlorat was slaine within the space of thrée wéekes by one of the basest soldiers in all the band. And as concerning his Judges, two of them dyed soone after strangely; namely one of them, to wit the President, by a fluxe of blood, which they could by no meanes stanch: the other (which was a Counsellor) making water at his fundament, with such stinch, that none could endure to come nigh him.

As for Villebon, he escaped at no better rate; for the sixtéenth day of February the Marshall of Vieille Ville, comming to Rovan to take order about the affaires of Diepe, having invited him to dinner, among other talke betwéene them, sit­ting together after they had dined, the Marshall lamenting the miserable estate of that City, exhor­ted Villebon to use some meanes for the redresse of such disorders, being the Kings Lieutenant there. Which words Villebon tooke very harshly, saying, That if any would dare to taxe him for not carrying himselfe as he ought in his place, he would againe tell him to his face he lyed. Which words (with often repetitions) he used after such a manner, as the Marshall being therewith very much urged, was forced for saving of his honour to draw his sword, wherewith he let drive with such violence at Villebon, that if he had not recei­ved the blow with his hand, he had cleft his head downe to his téeth. So Villebon escaped at that time with the losse of his hand, wherewith he had dishonorably smitten Marlorat at the place of exe­cution. Which hand he caused to be buried with greater solemnity than himselfe could attain un­to afterwards.

A relation of such troubles and persecuti­ons as happened to those of the Religion in the City of Caen and other Cities of France, as hereafter follow in the yeare 1562.

THere was one Iohn Wolfe of the City of Audenard, who because he could no longer in­habite 40 there, without either the danger of his life, or wounding of his conscience, his wife being great with childe, and as yet but weake in the knowledge of the Gospell, he was forced for these respects to joyne himselfe to the assembly of the Church in Antwerpe, where thinking himselfe in safety, a neighbour of his owing him ill will ac­cused him to the Margrave about the baptising of his childe. Whereupon being then committed, and examined where and in whose presence his childe 50 was baptized, he without staggering answered, that he had it baptised according to the institution of Christ, by a Minister set apart to that Office. The Margrave, not content with this answer, of­ten pressed him with sundry threats of the torture to accuse such as he knew. But the sharpest com­bat he endured was from his owne flesh, counsel­ling him during his imprisonment, for the safe­gard of his life, to dissemble and halt betwéen two opinions. The cause was from the inward affe­ction 60 he bore towards his wife and childe, being yet but young and of singular beauty; in regard whereof many of the congregation expected no other but that he would sinke under this tryall.

But in the middest of these assaults hée was heard, with prayers and sighes, to cry mightily to God to bée delivered from this temptation. Which prayers of his were heard in due season, even then Whither wee ought to fly in time of temp­tation. when in the judgement of man he was supposed to be overcome thereof, meanes was made of bringing to his hands consolatory letters: as also 70 the said Wouter Dom then prisoner with him, comforted him not a little by his letters. Whereby in the end he continued so strong in the Lord, as also constant in the confession of the truth, that in conclusion he received the sentence of death with the aforesaid Wouter. After which his wife came unto him, and they were permitted to talke together, bursting out each of them into such abun­dance of teares, that it would have moved the most stony heart that ever was. At parting, with a bitter cry hée commended her to Gods migh­ty protection, and his childe to be trained up in the true Religion. Soone after, hée was drow­ned in the tub or fat of the prison, and the next day hanged upon one of the Gibbets néer unto the City.

¶ A relation of the troubles and martyr­dome of Christian Quekere, Iaques Di­onssart, and Iean de Salomez of Steenwerk in Flanders.

WHilest the persecution continued at this time in sundry places of Flanders, under Philip King of Spaine, and that many fled into England under the protection of Quéene Eliza­beth; these thrée above mentioned were of the same number, who joyned themselves to the Dutch Church in London, having given publique testi­mony of their faith before all the Congregation. In which place they continuod not long, but they were constrained upon some speciall occasions to returne into their owne countrey againe, taking boat about the end of Iune, Anno 1560.

They were no sooner arrived at Nieuport, but two of them, to wit, Iames and Ieane, endeavo­red to passe on to Honscot, leaving Christian to come at his leisure, because he was not well at ease, having also a fardel of small books of religion.

The Bailife with some others méting him up­on the way, asked him whence he came and whi­ther he was going, as also what he was. Christian framed them such an answer that they could take no advantage against him (travelling as hée did upon the way) onely they spied about him that far­dell of books, by occasion whereof they brought him backe into the City: and having learned that he came over wish two others, the Bailiffe forth­with sent his lievtenant towards Honscot; who so wilily handled the matter, that in the end he caught them, and brought them bound to the City of Furn. Where for a few daies they were pri­soners together with the foresaid Christian; in which condition they mutually comforted and en­couraged one another: but their adversaries soone separated them, thinking therby to weaken their strength, constancy, and fortitude.

Upon the first of their interrogatories (which was about the third and fourth of Iuly) they asked Iames why he separated from the church of Rome

Ans. Because it is not the church of Christ.

Quest. How know you that?

Answer. Because it hath neither the Word of God soundly preached, the Sacraments duly ad­ministred, nor the Ecclesiasticall Discipline after a right manner executed. Iames gave good and so­lid reasons hereof; shewing that in their Church was taught, that soules must bée saved by saying of Masses, long prayers, invocation of saints, pil­grimages, with other such vaine and deceivable hopes; yea, said the Priest, doe you thus judge of those who give to Iesus Christ bread when he is [Page 30] hungry, and drinke when he is thirsty, and cloath Anno 1563. him being naked, &c. And so went on with multi­plying many words, not suffering the said Iames to finish what he was about to have said. Others asked him if he could prove that they had not the true administration of Baptisme.

Answer. You have so obscured it with your owne additions, that a man can scarce discerne it to be Baptisme.

Quest. What thinke you then of your owne 10 Baptisme.

Answ. Were I now to be baptised, I would not receive it from your Church, so well it likes me that I have received it from you. Being de­manded what he said to the Sacrament of the Al­tar, he proved evidently how farre off it was from the first institution of the Lords supper. And as concerning the Ecclesiasticall discipline, hée uttered more of their corrupting of it, then they were willing to heare. 20

After this, they were examined by two friers, who were chosen out for the purpose; one of them was Iohn Campo, superintendent of the Gray Friers of Dixmude, the other was called Peter Pennet Prior of the Carmelites in Ypre. These two examined the thrée prisoners first upon the articles of the faith; and then, if they beléeved that Christ was made of the séed of the woman? Iames answered, we are all perswaded that Ie­sus Christ was made of the séed of the woman, ac­cording 30 as God hath promised, Gen. 3. 15. More­over, of the séed of Abraham, add of David; and Gal. 4. 4. Rom. 1. 3. Heb. 4. 15. that he was in all things made like unto his bre­thren, sinne onely excepted.

After many other questions upon divers points, they were asked, whether in the conse­cration of the Masse the body of Christ was pre­sent there or no? No, said Iames, It is nothing like the Lords Supper which Christ gave to them that sate at table with him: According to 40 which institution the faithfull being assembled to­gether, Acts 2. 42. brake bread, &c. Nor shall ye find in the Scriptures, that one alone receiveth, or that the rest stood and looked on. And if Saint Paul justly challenged the Corinthians, because every oue was forward to eat his owne supper apart, 1 Cor. 11. 20. much more are you worthy of their reprehension. I doe therefore ranke you amongst those false pro­phets which our Lord Iesus Christ hath warned Mat. 24 23. us of, who will say thus unto us, Lo, here is Christ, 50 and there he is.

Hereunto the adversaries replyed, Doth not Christ in expresse words say, This is my body; This is my bloud?

Answer. The words must not be taken as they sound in a literall sence, for so they shall have no agréement with other like places of Scripture. You know the words belonging to the antient Sacraments were expounded by the holy Ghost himselfe; Circumcision is called the Covenant, 60 and the Lambe is called the Passeover, albeit they were but the signes thereof.

They asked if God were not omnipotent.

Yes, said Iames, but yet he will doe nothing against his Word.

Quest. If the bread be not changed, why doth 1 Cor. 11. 29. Saint Paul affirme, That whosoever eats of this bread unworthily, eats judgement to himselfe, not discerning the Lords body.

Wée acknowledge all this, said they, because a man ought to examine himselfe, before he presume 70 to come to that holy banquet; for in the Supper we receive not only bread and wine, but doe also truly partake of the body and bloud of Christ, as Saint Paul teacheth us. 1 Cor. 10. 16. Matrimony.

In the fourth place, they were asked if mariage were not a Sacrament? No, said Iames, for sacra­ments are not things indifferent to Christians, as mariage is; for Saint Paul saith, he that gives 1 Cor. 7. 8. 29. 38. his Virgin in mariage doth well, but hee that gives her not in mariage doth better. We h [...] wedlocke to be an holy ordinance of God, institu­ted in Paradise from the beginning of the world, Gen. 2. Iohn [...]. Heb. [...]3 4. honoured by Iesus Christ with his first miracle, yea we adde further, that as mariage is honou­rable among all, and the bed undefiled, so whore­mongers and adulterers God will judge.

Quest. But saint Paul saith, it is a great Sa­crament.

Answer. Why doe you forbid it then? But that place of Paul by you alledged is not to bée un­derstood Ephes. 5. 32. of mariage, but is meant of that speciall mysticall union and Communion which is be­twéen Christ and his Church.

Quest. They asked him if confession were a Confession. Sacrament.

Answer. I finde but two Sacraments menti­oned in the New Testament. If you can finde out any more, you shall doe well to shew them. But as touching confession, it is to God, to whom we must confesse our sinnes, according to Davids Psal 32. 5. Luke 15. 18. 21. example, and of the Prodigall sonne, and sundry others, who with true repentance acknowledged their offences to God, who is faithfull and just to 1 Iohn 1. 9. pardon and forgive them. But to confesse them to a priest, it is so farre off from being necessa­ry, that I hold it altogether unlawfull. These Fathers had their refuge to their wonted place of saint Iames, Confesse your faults one to another. Iames 5. 16.

Answer. The Apostle would have us to con­fesse our faults to such as we have wronged by word or déed. Also God enjoynes us to reconcile ourselves one with another by such a confession, Mat. 6. 12. Mat. 16. 19. if we would obtaine pardon of him.

Then they alledged that place of saint Mathew, That whatsoever they bound on earth was bound in heaven.

Answer. Christ speakes there of Ecclesiasticall discipline, which ought to bée observed amongst Christians, by admonitions, and then by applying the censures, according to the doctrine of the Gos­pell, that so obstinate sinners may be cast out of the Church. But all the world may sée that you know not what this true discipline of Christ mea­neth, nor what a right Ministry is in your Chur­ches.

Quest. At least you acknowledge Extreme uncti­on Extreme un­ction. to bée a Sacrament, séeing Saint Iames speaks so cléerly of it.

Answer. The anointing that Saint Iames Iames 5. 14. Marke [...]. 13. speakes of is nothing like to your anointings. For that was a miraculous anointing for hea­ling of the body, and that, whilst the gift of healing was usuall in the Church. But you anoint such as lye drawing on, and doe it for the salvation of their soules. It is néedfull, I grant, to send for the Minister, to comfort the sicke, and to pray with them and for them, but not to besmeare and grease them.

Quest. Well, what say you to Confirmation? Confirmation. is not that a Sacrament?

Answer. In all the Scripture (said Iames) do I not finde such a thing as your confirmation, as you now use it, and therefore I know not what it is. Here they caused the Register to write, Non credit.

Then came they to the order of priesthood, and asked if that were not a Sacrament.

Answer. No, no more than the rest. I am not 1 Pet. 2. 9. ignorant that S. Peter cals the faithfull a chosen generation, a royall Priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people: nor yet where Saint Iohn saith, that Christ hath made us Kings and Priests; but what is all this to your Bishops and Priests? Rev. 1. 6.

Quest. What thinkest thou of the Pope.

Answer. I thinke him to be the same that Da­niel [Page 31] and Saint Paul foretold he should be. For he Anno 1560. shewes himselfe such a one as they have descri­bed him to be, comming with false signes, and ly­ing 2 Thess. 2. 9 10. wonders, sitting in the Temple of God, and exalting himselfe above all that is called God forbidding marriage, which God hath ordained, and 1 Tim. 4 3. meat which God hath commanded to be received with giving of thankes.

Question. What say you then unto Purga­tory? Purgatory. 1 Iohn 17.

Answer. We acknowledge none other Purga­tory, 10 but the blood of Christ, which only cleanseth us from all our sinnes.

Quest. Doe not the Saints pray for us, and ought we not to pray to them?

Answer. God alone is to be worshipped, and Prayer to Saints. prayed unto. Whilest the Saints were on earth they would not endure to be adored. Acts 10. 25, 26. Which they then would rather have permit­ted (being clothed with corruption, and with na­turall 20 desires of being honoured) then now when they have put off all carnall and humane affecti­ons. The Angels themselves would not accept of Divine worship, Revelat. 19. 10. and 22. 9. They had many other disputes, which Iames could not write for want of paper, as he intimated to them of the Church.

The fourtéenth of August they were examined the third time by Peter Titleman Dean of Re­nay, Inquisitor generall of Flanders, whose cru­elties and extortions were exercised upon all the 30 faithfull, in all the persecutions and deaths which they suffered in the said Countrey. This morn­ing was brought before him Iane Solomez, of whom he diligently enquired of these of the City of Stéenewerke where she was borne; but especi­ally if she knew one Charles Vanderkaw, a man renowned among the faithfull there. She answer­ed she knew him, but he was now dead. After he had asked her name, he questioned with her, 40 especially about the Sacraments, yea somewhat concerning the Lords Supper, holding her in these discourses about two houres before him.

To Iames Diensart he propounded no questi­ons, but came about him with these flattering spéeches; My son, you are yong and in the prime of your youth: Therefore the Magistrate of this City is very desirous you should be withdrawne from holding this new doctrine, that so you might be brought againe into the right way; but as I 50 understand, you so persist therein, that there is no removing of you. Iames answered that it could not be called a new doctrine, which was built up­on the Prophets and Apostles.

To whom the Inquisitor replyed, That Martin Luther was the first that broached it.

Answer. And what say you then to so many learned men which lived before him, as Io. Wick­liffe, Iohn Hus, &c. and some after him, as Calvin, Iohn Alasco, Martin Micron, and others in Eng­land, 60 France, and Friesland? And though nei­ther you nor I knew them, God knowes them as well as he did the seven thousand of the godly, 1 Kin. 19. 28. whom Elias in his dayes was ignorant of. The Inquisitor, persisting in his old song, pressed him with the succession of his Prelates and Bishops. Iames put him in minde of another marke of the true Church, namely that it was alwaies under persecution; and thence inferred that himselfe was a true member thereof.

The Inquisitor said, we are now persecuted in 70 England: for now they begin to imprison some of our Priests there.

Answer. It is true that Boner late Bishop of London was committed to prison, but not for his good déeds. The rest of them have their li­berty.

Now this Inquisitor among other matters willing him to shew what service was due to the Virgine Mary, said, Is it not written, Honour 1 Pet. 2. 17. all men? And what honour owe we then to the mother of our Lord Iesus Christ?

You give her (said Iames) a goodly honour in bowing the knée before an Image of wood or stone, praying thereto as to your God. You may be ashamed of such abhominable practises and blasphemies. Much other reasonings they had, which the said Iames, for lacke of paper and lei­sure, could not commit to writing.

The same day in the afternoon Christian Luc­kere, who was put into prison apart, was also presented before this inquisitor, and examined up­on many Articles. In all his answers he shewed much courage; and when the other went about to prove that Iesus Christ was corporally present in the Sacraments, Christian used sixe or seven strong reasons to the contrary drawne out of the holy Scriptures, That it could by no meanes be granted, being repugnant to the truth. The adver­saries perceiving the constancy of these thrée pri­soners, sought by all meanes to vexe and weaken them. First they severed them one from another to deprive them of mutuall comfort and consolati­on. Secondly, gave charge, that in visiting them none should be so bold as to bring them ought to eate or drink. Thirdly, They were sollicited by wicked ones to yéeld, and not wilfully to hazard their lives. Moreover, they had many other greaf provocations; and therefore by their Letters in­stantly requested the continuall prayers of the Churches to God for them.

When the godly strangers in England were advertised of these their assaults, they sollicited their Superintendent Edmund Bishop of Lon­don, at the request of the Archbish. of Canterbury, and others, to send Letters to the Magistrates of Furne, intreating that they would release these thrée prisoners, whom they had apprehended as they passed along by the high waies side, without any misbehaving of themselves, or holding any dispute with any, and were innocent in regard of committing ought against the Lawes of the Countrey. As touching their Faith which some called into question, they should not for that bée molested; because in like manner her Majesty hath given frée power and leave in case of Reli­gion hitherto, that none of the Subjects of the Low-Countries, comming into England, and carrying themselves modestly, should be medled withall. But if they shall deale so hardly with those of the Religion, who have submitted them­selves as her Majesties subjects under her prote­ction, then she shall be constrained, though to her great sorrow, to mete out the same measure to those of other Nations; but she hoped and expe­cted the contrary, both from the wisdome and equity of the Magistrates of Furne.

These Letters were dated the 26. of Iuly 1560. and subscribed.

• Matthew Archbishop of Canterbury.
• Edmund Bishop of London.
• William Meyne.
• William Haddon,
• Master of the Requests, &c.

THe Magistrates of Furne having received these Letters sent them to Bruxels, where they were read before the Kings privy Counsell. But to extenuate the authority thereof, it was noised that they were forged by some Lutherans; so as in the end they resolved (notwithstanding) to procéed against the said prisoners, according to ex­tremity of the Lawes established by the King. [Page 32] Now these of Furne having in vaine by all Anno 1562. meanes assayed to turne the prisoners from their Faith, they resolved to execute them. Many of the City, and others not dwelling far off, hearing the report of their purposed dispatch, prepared to come to the sight thereof, thinking it would have béen on Wednesday which was Market-day. But the Magistrates taking notice of the multi­tude were somewhat amased, and caused him that was to doe execution to ride through the middest 10 of the Market at high noone, as if he had béen ta­king his journey out of the City, and so to make the people beléeve that they intended not their ex­ecution as yet. But on Wednesday towards the evening, the chiefe Bailiffe accompanied with some of the Magistrates, came secretly into the prison, solliciting each of the said prisoners with many intreaties and intising perswasions to re­cant; promising to set them free forthwith, if they would speake but one word to that purpose. But 20 the Lord strengthned them so, that they overcame this dangerous assault. The adversaries, séeing their expectations frustrated, caused all things the same night to be made ready for their execution the next day; to wit, chaines, stakes, fagots, &c. Now the Lord, who hath the disposing of the mo­ments of time in his owne hands, disappointed this project by a vehement shower of raine, which he sent, continuing all the forenoone.

The two Fryers formerly mentioned were 30 called for; each of them accompanied with one of their own coat. These began to assaile the prisoners from morning till eight of the clock, either to wea­ken, or else to turne them from their faith. Which because they could effect neither upon Iames nor Christian, they dealt with Iane, thinking to have prevailed with her; but to as little purpose as with the two others. Being thus disappointed of their hopes, then they fled to their accustomed lies, which they term Fraudes pieuses, pious beguilings, 40 saying thus unto her; Will you only shew your selfe singular in cleaving to this opinion, whereas your prison fellowes have renounced it?

The holy Virgin was nothing abashed thereat, but gave them this answer, That she could not beléeve it; and albeit it were so, yet would shée never goe back from so certaine a truth, grounded not upon man, but upon Iesus Christ?

These lying Fryers, nothing prevailing with her neither, went their way. Then the prisoners 50 encouraging one another, and preparing them­selves for death, sang the seventy fourth Psalme. The Magistrates of Furne, that they might with the more security execute their sentence, caused the gates of the city to be shut; and yet many got in, leaving their swords and staves at the gate. Now as they brought the prisoners along to the towne­house every one as they went reached forth their hand to them, and bad them that they should be of good courage. 60

Appearing before the Magistrates they were denounced heretiques. To which Christian, in the name of the rest, said, Not one of your doctors can prove us heretiques, nor can they convince us by Scripture. It was replyed that they sleigh­ted the Sacraments. To which they fréely answer­ed, We hold and allow those Sacraments insti­tuted by God, in much more reverence than you. Upon this the Magistrates consulted together apart, and after a while came to their seats again, 70 pronoucing sentence against these thrée, viz. to be strangled, and then burned or scortched, and the remainder of the bodies to be hanged on the gib­bet. They thanked the judges for their sentence; yet advertising them well to bethinke themselves of what they had done. As they were passing forth of the house to be led to the slaughter, many of the godly bad them farewell; comforting, incoura­ging, and exhorting them to continue constant. Whereat the head Bailiffe being much vexed pushed Iane so violently with his foot, that she fell downe the staires, at which the people were much moved. Christian went formost, Iane next, and Iames followed. In beholding of which spectacle few there were which brake not forth into sigh­ings, cryings, and teares, whilest they gave the people so holy and godly exhortations. One of the Monks called Iohn [...]els, being by, gave to Iane (many of good credit hearing it) this counsell in his Language, Fight valiantly, the crowne of immortality is ready for you. Whilest the execu­tioner began to fasten their neck and féet with chanes to the stake, they sung the hundred and thirtieth Psalme, Out of the deep.

Fryer Iohn Campone, being impatient of such an harmony, yelled out like a mad man, say­ing, This shewes you are not Christians; for Christ went to his death wéeping. One in the middle of the assembly cryed as fast on the other side, Thou liest thou false Prophet. Having fini­shed the two first staves of the Psalme, the hang­man being about to strangle Christian, the other two ceased, crying to their brother; Be of good chéere and play the man. And Christian, lifting up his eyes to heaven, said twice or thrice, Lord God heavenly father into thy hands I commend my spirit. And then againe, Lord forgive their sin who have put us to death. Iames and the maide made the like prayer. But because Iames was last strangled, and the people moved with compassion began to stir, the hangman kindled the fire upon Iames being but halfe strangled. The people séeing him to die in the midst of the fire, were yet more moved, so as the tormentor being in a maze got a staffe out of a Boat headed with iron, and smote the Martyr twice or thrice on the right side, to make an end of him. These thrée having a while lien in the fire, they were carried thence in a cart to the gibbet, where being put apart upon thrée poles they were afterward taken downe and buried.

Nicaise of Tombe born in Tournay, Martyr.

NIcaise dwelling in Tournay, and following the trade of Say-making, towards the end of his life, was then by the mercy of God brought to the knowledge of true religion. Now that he might be the more throughly instructed therein, he went with his wife and family into the City of Wesell in base Almaine. In which City there was at that time an assembly of strangers, and especially of those who are called Wallons, exer­cising themselves in hearing the word of God purely preached, and in receiving the holy sacra­ments. But Satan the mortall enemy of Gods children, envying their happinesse, soon after trou­bled this assembly in such wise with sundry que­stions, that some retyred to Frankfort, others to Strausburg, and some to other places. Nicaise returned to Tournay whence he came, not to communicate there with the superstitions and ab­hominations in which he had formerly béen in­wrapped, but to joyne himselfe to the Christian assembly which met together in that place; to ma­nifest the truth of that heavenly knowledge, which he had received out of the word of God.

Where notice being taken of him, they received him into their society, amongst whom he carried himselfe in so Christian a sort, as they well percei­ved [Page 33] him to be a man of an holy conversation, joy­ned Anno 1566. with an earnest desire to advance the glory of God, and the kingdome of Christ, in the edi­fication of his Church. Now forasmuch as afflicti­on 2 Thes. 2. 9. 10. is the true touchstone whereby the faithfull are discerned from Hypocrites; Nicaise then shewed outwardly what he was within. For being im­portuned to take an oath from those who were de­puted thereunto by the King of Spaine, to live according to the custome of the Romish Church, 10 and to observe the traditions invented by her; he, notwithstanding the threats and injuries done unto him, constantly held out against the said oath, not casting how deare it might cost him in the end. Some of his kindred wished him at least­wise to withdraw himselfe aside for awhile into another City, till the urging of this oath was over, as also that his wife should change her lod­ging in his absence.

To this counsell he consented; but the Lord, 20 who governes all our intentions and purposes, had otherwise determined of him, namely to set him forth as an example of constancy unto others, and to beare witnesse so farre to the truth of the Gospell, as to seale the same with his bloud, by staying him at that time in the City. For be­ing ready to take his journey, a néere neighbour of his, being an enemy of the Gospell, accused him to the commissioners for one that neither had nor would take the oath according to the forme 30 appointed. Nicaise requiring to heare the tenour of the oath, before he would make them an an­swer, they told him that he must sweare to kéep & observe all antient customes; to receive in the sa­crament of the altar his creatour thrice in the yeare, and on Sundaies and Holidaies to heare Masse, morning and evening. As soone as hée had understood their meaning, hée told them, hée intended not at all to take any such oath, nor to wound his conscience in consenting to things so 40 manifestly contradicting the word of God; there­withall yéelding them the reasons of this his reso­lution; accusing as well them for urging such an oath, as those also who gave their consents thereto. Upon this he was committed and laid amongst fellons, in the Gaole called Pipigne, untill Friday the twelfth of November, on which day he recei­ved sentence of death; namely to be bound and so led into the Market place of the City, and there upon a Scaffold to be burned and consumed to 50 ashes.

Having heard this sentence, as he rose up, hée said, now praised be God; and as he was about to have spoken more at large, the Procurer fiscall bing present prevented him, and thrusting him forward bad him march on. By and by they brought him to the place of execution; and as it well fell out, having no Priest accompanying him, when he was come downe to the Market place, a néere friend of his comming to him com­mended 60 him to God, and so they kissed each other.

Being come nigh to the Which is a watch tower standing bo­fore the City hall where the Clocke is. Befroy of the City, séeing there a great multitude of people, who were assembled together to sée him passe by, lifting up his voice, he spake thus; O yee men of Tournay open your eyes, awake ye that sleepe, and stand up from the dead, and Christ shall give you light.

He also prayed all whom he had any way offen­ded to forgive him, as he for his part was ready to forgive all the world. The people hearing him 70 say so, began to be moved, and to make a great muttering. The multitude also that were come together were so many, that the souldiers who incompassed the Patient (being now ready to suffer) could neither march nor kéep ranke; so as they were about to shoot. Which the people per­ceiving began to be moved so much the more, so as there had like to have béen a great tnmult. But going on they drew nigh to the place where the scaffold was.

Nicaise all the while spent the time in prayer unto God, and being at the place of execution hée uttered these words; Lord, they have hated mee without a cause; and ascended up joyfully to the scaffold: where the Tormentors readily received him, and led him to the stake; and as they were fastening him to it, he said, Eternall Father, have pitty and compassion upon me, according as thou hast promised to all that aske the same of thee in thy sonnes name. Other prayers he made there to his God, and so continued to his last gaspe. And albeit the multitude made such a noise, and the beating of the drummes hindred his words from being all fully heard; yet he so often pronounced, and that with such vehemency, the word Iesus, that it notwithstanding might plainly be under­stood as long as the breath was in his body. And thus yée have heard the godly life and blessed end of this constant martyr.

¶ Martin Bayart, Claude du Flot, with Io. Dantricourt, borne in the Countrey of Artois, and Noel Tournemine, of Hering neere Seclin, Martyrs, 1566.

YOu may easily discerne by the former Histo­ries, that the cruelties exercised against the Faithfull in Flanders nothing diminished the in­creasing of them; for the innocent bloud thus shed was a meanes to bring many ignorant soules to the knowledge of the Truth. These foure above named, dwelling in the City of Lisle, walked in the feare of the Lord, with zeale according to knowledge, as the event well manifested.

There was a Iesuit in the said City who had a servant that was cousin to one of the Martyrs, with whom they laboured, not without some pe­rill, first to shew him the odiousnesse of that sect, and then to instruct him in the doctrine of the Go­spell. To which purpose they lent him a booke con­taining good instructions drawne out of the holy Scriptures. The silly fellow, not considering the hurt that might follow, shewed it soone after to his Master. The false Prophet by and by knew that this booke was not forged upon his anvile, and therefore diligently enquired of his man where he had it. Now that he might with the more expedi­tion attaine his desire, he gave him a piece of se­ven stivers, telling him he should do well to bring him to the knowledge of them from whom he had received it; which was not hard to doe, in regard they all foure wrought upon their Trade (which was to dresse sayes) in an honest widowes house who professed the same Religion with them.

The Iesuite comming to the knowledge hereof failed not, according to their guise, to reveale it to the Magistrate. Now lest he might be suspected to be the betrayer of them, the Fox withdrew him­selfe the same time out of the City, whilst on a sa­turday morning about two of the clocke these foure were apprehended and imprisoned by the Magistrate. It fell out the same day, that certain writings were set up upon the Towne-house against the horrible tyranny of the Spanish In­quisition, which was then intended to be brought in and executed throughout the Low-Countries, which no doubt was the meanes wherby the Ma­gistrates were the rather incensed against the pri­soners. But forasmuch as they were not found guilty of having any hand in this businesse, they were onely examined about matters concerning [Page 34] their Faith. To which they answered with such Anno 1566. courage and constancy, without varying or wa­vering, that the Iailour wondred how they could answer the Iudges so directly and pertinently (as it were with one consent) being notwithstanding severed one from another in the prison.

The second of March, 1566. they were condem­ned for heretiques by the Provost of the City, to which they replyed, that if they were Heretiques then Gods word must néeds be heresie, which 10 could not be; and therefore they fréely protested before all, that they were Christians, and held no­thing but that which was agréeable to the word of God. They were asked if they would submit themselves to the will of the Magistrates. They answered they would submit themselves to the will of God. Then was sentence of death forth­with pronounced upon them, which was, that they should be burned alive before the Towne-house. 20 When they were brought out of Prison to be exe­cuted, Noels father came and embraced him, and kissing him said, Art thou led my son in this sort unto death? This is nothing, Father, said hée, for now am I going to life. And howsoever Noel wept in going up to the Scaffold, séeing his father so dissolved into teares; yet recovering himselfe, and being armed with new courage, he cryed, O yée Priests, if we would have gone to your Masse, we néeded not to have béen here: but Iesus Christ never commanded nor instituted any such 30 thing.

The Priests standing at the foot of the scaffold laboured to make the people beéeve they were Heretiques, and that their faith was the faith of devills, because they rejected the Sacraments. But to that one of them answered, that their Faith was nothing like to that of devills; and as touching the Sacraments, they held so many as Christ ordained. Then said Martin, suffer us to die in peace, for we are in the right way, and 40 are going to Iesus Christ, hinder us not in this our journey; with these and the like spéeches the Priests mouthes were stopped, not daring to come up upon the Scaffold, as they were wont to doe.

Iohn Dauticourt comming up recited the ar­ticles of the Créed, adding somewhat by way of exposition upon every Article. Those who knew him before his imprisonment marvelled to heare him speake so judiciously. The executioner think­ing 50 to please his Masters offered to gag him: but the patient promised to hold his peace. Yet be­ing straitly fastened to the stake by the necke, he said to the people; O my friends, were it for speaking wickedly that they commanded me to be silent, it were somewhat, but I cannot be per­mitted to speake unto you the word of God, and with a loud voice said, Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or anguish? O Lord, we are delivered to death for thy sake, 60 and are appointed as sheepe for the slaughter. But let us be of good cheere my brethren, for wee shall be more than conquerours, through him that loved us.

The other thrée on their parts cryed and said, Mat. 7. 14. This, this is the way that leads to life; this is the strait way by which we must enter thereinto, as Christ our Lord hath taught us. Noel likewise said, Enter you my brethren, and whilest I am alive pray for me; for after death prayers prevaile not. 70 When all of them were fastened to their stakes, and covered with fagots, with fire ready to set thereto, they began with one voice to sing the first part of the seven and twentieth Psalme, and after that the song of Simeon to the end: after which the fire began to be kindled, in the middest whereof they were heard to cry ten or twelve times to the Lord, especially Iohn and Noel, with loud voices calling and saying, Lord receive us this day unto mercy, and unto thy kingdome. And thus ceasing to cry any more, they yéelded up their soules into the hands of God. This constan­cy of theirs, procéeding from the worke of Gods Spirit, was not without singular fruit, for the inlarging of the Church; for many being touched therewith went home thence, as if they had gone from a powerfull sermon.

¶ Francis D' Alost in Flanders, Martyr, in the yeare 1566.

THis yong man, being by his trade a Cutler, during the time of his ignorance frequented the Court much, and tooke great delight in the vanity of this world, which gat him much respect of many, but chiefly among those of the Romish Religion, namely Priests and Monkes, who wil­lingly conversed with him, taking much content­ment in his carriage and course of life. But as soone as God of his goodnesse by the meanes of his word had revealed unto him his son Iesus Christ, he by and by altered and changed his for­mer conversation: for having before lived in great dissolutenesse, he now sharply reproved such as he knew to follow sinfull wayes; yea, he often taxed the Priests as well for their scanda­lous living as for their false doctrine, wherewith they abused the people; but principally for making them to fall downe to such a god as could not de­fend nor kéep himselfe from Rats and Nice, and which is worse, to offer it up for the sins of the quick and the dead.

For these with other such like spéeches, those who erewhiles loved him began now to turne their love into hatred, insomuch as he was faine to flie from them, yea, and out of the Countrey also, being banished thence; threatning him, that if he were taken there againe, he should be put to death, not as an heretike, but as one having of­fended the penall Lawes. But not long after the Lord wrought such an alteration not only in the Politicall but in the Ecclesiasticall state also, that not the Lawes concerning heresie alone were disanulled, but frée liberty was granted to the Faithfull of the Low-countries, to returne home into their houses againe, and to have the exercises of Religion, publikely and openly. Among these Francis returned at that time unto the City in which he was borne. But this fréedome so sud­denly granted lasted not long. For the devill, not enduring the light so to shine out, stirred up Imps afresh to oppresse the godly. Francis then apprehending the danger, was minded one morn­ing to depart out of the City; but God had ano­ther worke for him to doe. For as he was passing along, he was apprehended in the stréete by one of the City, who with the Bailiffe met him. The Bailiffe would faine have baulked him, as if he had not séene him; but said the other, here he is, hold him fast; so they took him. Being conducted to prison, among other spéeches he said, now yée have taken me, you thinke to deprive me of life, and so have your will of me, purposing my great dammage and hurt; but you are deceived, for it is all one, as if you tooke Counters from me, to fill my hand with a great summe of gold.

In prison he had many disputes with Priests and Cloister-men. But the Iailour of all other dealt harshly with him, who could not endure to heare him speake of God. But if at any time he heard him sing Psalmes and spirituall Songs, he would rage like a Bedlam. Once being very drunke, he set open the prison doores, and sitting on a bench he called to Francis, saying, come out thou naughty [Page 53] and wicked heretique. I will now sée, if thy God can deliver thée out of my hands. Francis said, as the case stands it might easily be effected; If I were minded to escape away now, as I was heretofore, I could easily doe it, but I will not; for God hath called me to suffer, and not to flie away, and therefore I will not resist, but rather obey his will.

The drunkard hearing him speake with such mildnes, and moderation, and séeing that he would 10 not come forth, being provoked thereto by him, in his fury he tooke up his stoole on which he sat, and laid at him therewith, so as he had felled him to the ground, if the servant had not stepped be­twéene, who tooke it out of his Masters hands by force: yet was the poore prisoner very sorely hurt, and lay long in the Chirurgions hands before his head could bée healed. But to make him amends, this cruell jaylour dieted him so strictly both for meate and drinke, that hée had died with hunger, 20 had not God inclined the heart of his servant now and then, to relieve him, by conveying meate to him in secret.

After the Lord had thus by sundry trials proo­ved the patience and constancy of this his good servant, the Magistrates of the City of Alost consulted how to put him to death, having oft cal­led the Executioner to this their consultation; but they could not agrée in the manner how to effect it. Some were of opinion it were best to have 30 him put to death secretly in the prison; others ad­vised to execute him openly, lest they should in­curre the blot of being murderers. In the end waxing more hardy, having long detained him in bonds, they called him forth into judgment, and pronounced sentence upon him, which was, that because he had done contrary to the Kings Lawes, in returning againe to the City from which he was banished, he had therefore deserved to die, sée­ing also hée held certaine opinions directly oppo­site 40 to the Church of Rome.

Francis hearing his sentence read, without any shew of distemper, said, Now seeing you are so thirsty after bloud, I willingly yeeld it into your hands, and my soule into the hands of my mercifull Lord God Almighty. Francis, said they, we command you to hold your peace; for if you will not, wée will take order to bridle your tongue. Hée then promised them to obey their command. As hée went to suffer hée used that 50 spéech of the Apostle saint Peter, I must now shortly put off this my earthly tabernacle, which 2 Pet. 1. 14. 2 Cor. 5. 14. the love of Christ Iesus my Lord constraines me to doe. Being come into the market place where he was to be offered up a sacrifice, he knéeled downe; and having ended his prayer, he sayed to the executioner, doe now what you are command­ded, the will of God bée done: and so presenting himselfe chéerefully to the stroke of death, he was beheaded the first of May, in the yéere 1566. his 60 body being afterwards exposed to the foules of the aire for a prey.

¶ Iohn Tuscaen of Andenard in Flaunders, Martyr, Iune the eighth, Anno 1566.

THis young man a maker of Tapistry about the age of two and twenty yéeres, the son of one called Simeon Tuscaen dwelling in the sub­urbs of Andenard, was trained up from his youth in all godly nurtrature. He hearing news that things went more aukly to passe in Bruxels then hée could have wished, determined in him­selfe to make it knowne by the effect, that the adoring of a breaden God, which the Roman Church so much worshipped, was nothing else but an abhominable and execrable sacriledge. Having cast to and fro in his minde, and thoughts, the weightinesse of the busines he was to undertake, at length hée determined to demonstrate the same more fully and apparently in a publike assembly, which was the thirtieth day of May in the said yeare 1566. (which after the custome of the Ro­manists is called the feast of God, or Corpus Christi day.) Now by reason that two Cities of Andenard and Pamelle are joyned as it were in one, there were two Temples dedicated there, not to the Lord, but the one to saint Walburgne, called the Church of Andenard, and the other to their Lady, which is within the jurisdiction of the Lord of Pamelle.

Iohn Tuscaen directed his course towards this Church, to performe that which long before he had in his owne thoughts projected. Being come into the Quire of the Church in Pamelle, be­holding there a multitude of People utterly e­stranged from the true worship of God, ready to fall downe and prostitute themselves before a breaden cake, forthwith (not casting what should be the issue) being urged thereto through a zeale of Gods glory, drew towards the Priest, while he was elevating and shewing the people that which they call the host; and with great vehemen­cie snatched it out of his hands, cast it to the ground, and brake it all to pieces, speaking with a loud voice; sée here, my Masters, your goodly God, who you sée is not able to helpe himselfe, but is here broken all to pieces. How long, how long, O ye senselesse Priests, will you thus defile the holy supper of the Lord? shall wee never sée an end of your filthy Idolatries? If the authori­ty of the holy scripture can nothing move you, yet at length be warned and admonished by this present example, that there is not a jot of divinity in this bread, séeing it is subject to be thus han­dled: will yee worship a dead Idoll, your selves being living men?

At this so vehement and bold an exhortation, accompanied with such constancy, all the people there present stood amazed and in such an extasie, (but yet withall such a noise and bustling through­ont the Church) that the Curate of the parish, who before was in some by-corner there, comming towards the Quire, met Tuscaen, as hee was passing through the prease without any feare or let. The Curate saluted him, not knowing what he had done, much lesse suspecting that he was the cause of all that tumult and stirre; for he was his cousin. Howbeit Iohn would take no know­ledge of his salutation, but began to reprove him for deluding and abusing the poore silly people, be­ing their overseer; for a day will come, said he, in which you shall render an account to God for them. In the hearing of this, the Curate called upon the people to lay hold upon the said Iohn Tuscaen, as hee was going out of the Church faire and softly. So that it had been easie for him to have quite himself out of their fingers, if he had but hastned his pace a little, because none offered to touch or apprehend him. The Curate seeing that, delaied not, but with all speed got him to the under Bailiffe of Pamelle, by whose outcries and importunities the Bailiffe could doe no lesse but goe with him to apprehend the great Here­tique. As they were making towards him, hee shewed no more semblance of escaping, then be­fore.

Then they tooke and imprisoned him without [Page 36] any resistance. Dinner being ended, he was pre­sented Anno 1567. before the Magistrates of Pamelle to be examined in the presence of the Curate: after they had enquired of him who they were that in­cited and set him on to doe such an outragious act unto the host, they asked him what he held the bread in the Masse to be, and whether he did not beléeve it was the body of Christ: If, saith he, you consider well what the Angell sayd to the Apostles at his assumption. viz. Act. 1. 11. this same Iesus, 10 which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have séene him goe Where Christ is to bee sought. into heaven; You may plainely discerne that we are not to séeke him here below.

After many other questions and answers, bée­ing sent againe to prison, he was the second time examined: and being asked whether he was him­selfe when he did it, or distracted? Hée answered, That he had done it, not rashly, but upon mature deliberation. Béeing further demanded what 20 should move him to commit so hainous an act? If this, saith he, séemeth so strange unto you, then I pray you tell me who moved Moses to breake the Tables of stone written with the finger of Exod. 32. 19. God? They perceiving that he secretly aimed at their Idolatrie, sent him to prison againe.

The eighth of Iune he was brought betimes in the morning into the judgment Hall, to receive their sentence which was to be pronounced against him; where two friers Minorites were purposely 30 sent to sée if they could turne him from his con­stancy: to which purpose asking him, if he did not beleeve that God was included in the bread which is lifted up in the Masse? He answered them by another question; namely, whether the Potter could make a pot? They sayd yes, but what was that to the purpose? He asked them againe, if the pot could make a Potter? The good fathers, séeing whereabouts he went, forthwith left him. When he saw he had thus stopped their mouths, he than­ked 40 God.

Then the Magistrates of the city went up into the judgement seat, and gave sentence against him; which was, first to have that hand stricken off, with which he had taken the Host out of the priests hands, and his body to bée burned to a­shes, which afterward was to be scattered into the river.

Hearing this sentence hée was very joyfull, 50 thanking his Iudges, and the Lord of Pamelle. But the Bailiffe of Audenard wished him rather to aske forgivenesse of God and of the people, for the offence he had commited. If I have offended any (said hée) I aske them forgivenesse. Then was he led forth to be executed; and as he went, he sung in his own mother tongue the Lords praier with such confidence, as argued the inward peace of his Conscience, in dying in so good a quar­rell.

The tormentor willed him to stretch forth his 60 arme that his hand might be cut off; which he did, suffering the same with such a patience, as if hée had felt no paine. And then with his eyes lifted up to heaven, he said, O Lord God, it is for the glory of thy name that I endure these things: in­able mee now with strength from above, that I may finish this sacrifice. Forthwith the fire was kindled, which made him at the first to shrinke a little; but by continuall and ardent prayer to God the violence of the torment was abated and asswa­ged. 70 Now standing in the middest of the flames, his body being in a manner halfe consumed, hée shewed apparent signes unto the beholders of his invincible courage, by holding up as well as hée could, his armes on a light fire.

Thus was this valiant Martyr handled in the presence of multitudes; which caused many to cleave the rather to the Doctrine of the Gospell, séeing him dye so constantly. The River of Es­cant received his ashes, that the Sentence given upon him might be fully accomplished,

Martin Smetius Martyr, Anno 1567.

MArtin Smetius being prisoner in the Castle of Vilvourd, there came to him a Frier to examine him, and with a purpose to turne him from the Faith. But Smetius being a man lear­ned, and of a quick understanding, remained con­stant, which so confounded his opposite, that hée went away with shame. The Fryer invented a recantation, to which it was reported that Sme­tius had subscribed. But an Elder of the Church, whose name was Cornelius Specox, comming to the knowledge thereof (by the helpe of friends) got a sight of the said Recantation. Who in the presence of divers friends conferring a certaine Letter (which Smetius had put his name unto) with that writing, found it in nothing to agree therewith, and therefore the recantation to bée méerely counterfeited, The eighth of February being Saturday, Smetius having his feete tied under an horses belly, on which he was set, was thus brought to Vilvourd to the Hee was apprehended by his Pro­vost with 20. horsemen as he was prea­ching at Ma­lives. When Smetins saw them, he ex­horted the con­gregation to be quiet, for they are come, said he, to take me: but the assembly was by and by scattered. Provost (who himselfe was afterwards hanged for his villa­nies.) His Sergeants passing immediatly along with him through Malives, went towards Mal­ladery of Wallen, where finding a ladder set up to an oake, they hanged him thereon. Smetius being on the Ladder used these words; Lord for­give them, for they know not what they doe.

And then singing certaine verses of a Psalme, he yéelded up his soule into the hands of the Lord.

¶ Master Iohn Goris and Ioris of Asschen Martyrs, Anno, 1567.

IOhn Goris Chirurgion, borne in Audenard, travelling towards Gaud, was betrayed by two spies, who signified the same to the Bayliffe; himselfe also going the same way whither Goris was travelling him. The Bailiffe, hirsting after the bloud of this poore innocent, rid on till hee had overtaken him, asking him whether hée went? I am going, said Goris, to the Parish of Nazaret. And I purpose also, said the Bayliffe, to goe thither, wee will beare you company. Ha­ving passed on thus a little way, the Bayliffe thin­king himselfe sure of Goris, began to lay hands upon him. Goris séeing that leaped over a ditch, and got into a little wood. The wood was present­ly beset with Countrey people; and being there ap­prehended, he was carried to Audenard, as a shéep to the slaughter, where he was committed to pri­son. They layed many things to his charge, which they were not able to prove. Being examined the second time upon divers articles, hee answered thereunto with such wisedome, that the Counsell admired how a man of so meane account could defend his cause in so good a manner. But after they came to question with him concerning mat­ters of Religion, now I see, saith he, that you seek my bloud.

The night following hee was overtaken with By this we see that man stands not by his owne strength. such an apprehension of the feare of death, that for saving his life hee was almost resolved to de­ny the truth. But by the assistance of Gods holy spirit calling his thoughts together, hee instantly and ardently besought the Lord to deliver him out of this temptation, that by the power of his grace he might overcome the infirmity of his [Page 37] flesh: which prayer of faith the Lord had such re­spect unto, that from that time he manifestly resi­sted all Satans assaults, and maintained the truth Though I fall. saith the Church, yet I shall arise. M [...]ch. 7. 8. Act. 7 60. unto his last breath.

Having received sentence he was nothing ap­palled thereat, but, like the holy Martyr S. Ste­phen, prayed God that he would not lay his death to their charge. Comming to the place where he was to be executed, casting himselfe downe pro­strate, he made his prayer to God; in which prayer 10 albeit he sought the Lord to forgive his Ene­mies, yet added he this withall; I am perswaded, that God being a just Iudge will not leave their sinne unpunished. Which prediction fell out not long after; for the Bailife who apprehended him, & rejoyced in standing by whilst the martyr was executed was not long after shot with a harque­buse, whereof he presently died like a wretch.

After Goris was thus executed, they brought forth his fellow prisoner, called Ioris of Asschen; 20 who the same day suffered the same kind of death, that is to say, he was hanged upon a gibbet, which death he endured for the name of Christ with like constancy as did the former. Which courage of his he thus manifested to his parents and friends, in a letter written to them a little before his death.

¶ A worthy answer of a constant Martyr called Guy de Brez, Anno. Dom. 1567.

GUy be Brez, a Minister of the Gospell, being committed prisoner into the Castle of Tour­nay, was visited by many Ladies & Gentlemen, onely out of a desire to sée him, in regard hee was a man so highly estéemed. Some at the first view scoffed; others railed on him; but others were moved to take pitty and compassion on him. A­mong the rest, the Countesse of Ren, accompanied with certaine Gentlewomen, comming into the prison, and at the first entrance beholding the iron chain to which he was fastned; Master Guy, said she, I wonder how you can either eate, drinke, or sléepe in quiet; for were I in your case, the very terror thereof would goe nigh to kill me.

O Madam, said he, the good cause for which I suffer, and that inward peace of conscience where­with God hath endued me, makes me eate and drinke with greater contentment than my ene­mios can which séeke my life: yea, so farre off is it that my bonds or chaine doe any way terrifie me, or breake off my sléepe, that on the contrary I glory and take delight therein, estéeming them at an higher rate than chains and rings of gold, or any other jewels of price whatsoever; for they yéeld me much more profit. Yea, when I heare the ra [...]ing of my chaine, me thinkes I heare as it were some swéet instrument of Musicke soun­ding in mine eares: not that such an effect comes méerely from my chaines, but in regard I am bound therewith for maintaining the truth of the Gospell.

A short narration of the life and death of these two valiant Champions of Christ, Guy de Brez, and Peregrin de La Grange, Ministers and martyrs.

NExt to the pure preaching of the word, no­thing so much commends those whom the Lord culls out to give their lives for the same, as doth an holy and blamelesse conversation, conti­nued unto their happy departure out of this world. It remaines then in few words, that we set forth the conversations of these two holy per­sonages, that thereby the mercies and graces of the Lord be stowed upon them may have the grea­ter lustre.

Guy de Brez borne in Mons in Hainault, bée­ing in his younger yeares much addicted to Po­pish superstitions, came by continually reading of the Scriptures to taste the swéetnes of Christian Religion; which knowledge brought forth no smal fruit in him in due season: Yet so, as it could by no meanes be relished or received by them of his Nation. Whereupon he departed from Mons, and having learned the art of painting Glasse, came to London whilest good King Edward the sixth 10 raigned, who gave persecuted strangers leave to have harbour within his realme of England. After his abode there a while, and understanding that the preaching of the Gospell obtained some entertainment in the Low-Countries, he went over to give his assistance to those of his owne Country.

The first fruits of his labours were most an end in bestwong some exhortations in such places where he found any willing to give him audience, 20 though never so few in number.

But above all he clave to them of the City of Lisle, because he found there a great number of beléevers who desired nothing more than to heare the Gospell publiquely preached unto them. At that time began also an holy conflict Against which this godly man published a learned confu­tation in French, which booke I have in my hands. against the pestilent sect of the Anabaptists, which as cockle mingled it selfe amongst the good corne. In this city he continued untill the flock of Christ wer dispersed by reason of persecution, and then went 30 to Gaud, where hée wrote his booke called the Staffe of Faith, extracted out of the ancient Fa­thers. After that béeing desirous to profit more and more in the knowledg of such things as were requisite to be in a Minister of the Gospell, hée travelled towards Lausanna, and thence to Ge­neva, to furnish himselfe with the tongues; and thence withdrawing himselfe into the Low-coun­tries, hée there established the churches of Lisle, Tournay, and of the Valencians; in which cities 40 God so prospered his labours, that he was preser­ved by his divine providence, as it were in the middest of the fiery flames, from falling into the hands of his enemies. And not to stand longer in relating the paines and travels of this faithfull servant of Christ, not onely the reformed Chur­ches of the said country can testifie, but also these of Diex, Mondidier, and Amiens also, which hée was an happy instrument to support, whilest the cruell persecutions in his owne Land would not 50 permit him to continue his Office of teaching there.

The Duke of Bovillon obtaining him drew him to his city of Sedan, where he also continued a while in publishing the glad tidings of salvation, untill the Church of Antwerpe began in the mo­neth of August 1576, to call him to be their Pa­stor. But he could not obtaine leave of those of Sedan to depart from among them without a great deale of difficulty, because they evi­dently 60 foresaw by the beginning of persecuti­ons in the Low-countries, into what a Sea of troublous tempests bée should bée cast: and yet perceiving how the heart of this holy man longed to be gone, to yéeld his assistance to those of his own nation; at length they consented to let him goe with them that requested to have his helpe. Now having stayed but a while there, the brethren determined to send him to his ancient Church of the Valencians, who received him with 70 no little joy, in regard the Lord had formerly or­dayned him to erect a Church there peculi­arly.

To come now to Peregrine de la Grange, hée Peregrin de la Grange. was borne in Chute nigh to Saint Marcellin in Daulphine. In the moneth of Iune in the yeare 1565 he was sent from the Schooles of Geneva, at the request and instance of the Valencians, to serve in the ministery among them. Such was His meeke disposition won him much respect. his méeke and milde disposition, that it won him much love and respect, and made his ministery to be so much the more acceptable in the eyes of all men. After the demolishing of Images in the City of the Valencians, two Churches were im­ployed by those of the reformed Religion for the use of prayer, preaching the word, and admini­stration of the Sacraments. Now the detaining of these Churches, the one of them being used by a stranger [...] namely by the said la Grange who was none of King Philips Subjects, being also against the Decrée of Margaretn then Regent of the Low-Countries, gave occasion to Noicurin, as then principall Bayliffe of Hainault and Va­lence, not onely to frustrate and break all accords with the said Valencians, but moreover to afflict and besiege them extremely. During which siege, because the supper of the Lord was administred in both the said Churches, it did so much the more enkindle the rage of the enemy against them, so as when the city was taken, La Grange was the more cruelly used, as you shall reade when wee come to speake of his death.

The same adversaries, who encountred Guy de Brez his companion, assailed him also; but he overcame them by the helpe of Gods holy Spirit, who gave them both such power, as their enemies were not able to resist.

They were imprisoned the eleventh of Aprill, and on Saturday the last of May the Provost of the bands came into the prison about thrée of the clocke in the morning, to give these two prisoners warning to prepare themselves for death; for they were to die at sixe or therabouts. Whereupon both of them began highly to magnifie God for his goodnesse, and gave the Provost thankes for the good newes which he had brought them. Assoon as they were up and ready, Master Guy entred into the fore Court, bidding the rest of the Priso­ners good morrow; and then testifying to them his joy, spake after this manner; Brethren I am this day to die for the doctrine of the Gospell; and now, blessed be God, I joy and rejoyce therein; I had not thought that God would ever have done me this honour. I feele my selfe replenished with joy more and more, from minute to minute, my God addeth new courage unto me, and my heart leapes for joy within me.

Then exhorting the prisoners to be of good chéer, he told them it was no hard matter to die, and so by way of acclamation alledged that place out of the Apocalips, O how happy are the dead that dye in the Lord; for they rest from their labours, and their workes follow them! Hée further be­sought the prisoners to stand fast in the doctrine of the sonne of God, which he had taught them, a­vowing it to bée the undoubted truth, which was mainteined Which dis­putes were formerly omi­ted in regard that in a man­ner they were the same with those of Pere­grin do la Grange. by him before the Bishop of Arres and many others.

Beware you do nothing, said he, against a good conscience; for I foresée that the enemies of the Gospell will execute the utmost of their rage a­gainst us; thinking thereby to weaken our faith, that so they might turne you from the truth, and so causing you to doe such things as should bring dishonor to the cause for which you are in bonds. Take heed therefore ye shrinke not; for if yée doe, you shall certainely féele such an hell in your con­sciences, as will never cease to vex and torment you. O my brethren, how good a thing is it to nourish a good conscience?

One of the prisoners asking him whether hée had finished a certaine work which he had begun, he answered, No; For now I must cease to labour, because I am passing along towards the heaven­ly rest: the time of my departing is at hand, I goe to reape that in heaven which I have sowne [Page 43] on earth. I have fought a good fight, I am at the point of finishing up my course: from henceforth the Crowne of Glory is layd up for me, which the Lord the righteous Iudge shal give unto me. Me thinks (said he with a joyfull and smiling countenance) that my spirit hath obtained wings to soare aloft into heaven, being invited this day to the mariage Supper of the Lambe.

As he was speaking, the Provost came in with bands into the Court, and putting off his hat sa­luted 10 him. Master Guy bad him welcome, and gave him thanks againe for his good newes. The Provost replied, It grieveth me much that things should be carried thus. To which Guy joyfully answered, I accept of you as of my good Friend, I love you with all mine heart. Then taking his leave of the prisoners he went into the little hall of the prison.

Soone after Peregrine de la Grange entred into the same Court, who as he carried himselfe 20 comfortably during all the time of his imprison­ment, so then after his accustomed manner he hegan with an amiable countenance to chéere the prisoners, with bidding them good morrow; and then said thus unto them; I am this day to die for the Truth, and then the heavenly Inheritance is prepared for mee: my name is written in the Phil. 4. 3. Rom. 11. 29. Booke of life never to be blotted out; because the gifts and calling of God are without repentance.

He protested also, That for his part he never 30 taught ought there but the pure Word of God; as for the doctrine of the Papists, it led soules, he said, to perdition and destruction: and thence took occasion to exhort the prisoners to separate them­selves from it, and to cleave wholly to the Do­ctrine of the Gospell. Then leaving them he went into another roome, and called for a brush to brush his hat and cloake, causing his shooes to be blac­ked; For now, said he, I am bidden to the mari­age of the Lambe, where I am to feast with him for ever and ever. 40

Going thence, some of the prisoners came to him, and finding him sitting in the entry of the prison upon a bench, with bread and wine set be­fore him, which was brought him for his breake­fast, they asked him if he went to suffer with those shackles on his héeles? I would I might (said hée) yea, and that they would bury them with mee to, that they might manifest the inhumanity of my adversaries. And as those brethren comforted him, 50 he replyed, that he felt such joy of the holy Ghost in his heart, that he could neither with mouth nor tongue expresse it; adding, That God shewed him a thousand times more favour to take him after this manner out of this transitory life, than if he had let him die in his bed by sicknesse: for now saith he) I shall dye with enjoying the benefit of all the powers of my soule, praying the Lord to have mercy upon me.

Then every one taking his leave of him they 60 retyred, and forthwith Guy and La Grange were led to the towne hall to receive the sentence of death, namely to be hanged for transgressing the Kings commandement given at the Court of Bruxels. And so not medling at all with any of the points of Doctrine which they had preached, they especially insisted upon the administration of the Lords Supper, against an expresse charge given them to the contrary.

To be short, La Grange being brought to the place of execution, and now upon the ladder, hée protested with a loud voice (notwithstanding the 70 noise which the soldiers kept about the gibbe [...]) that he died onely for preaching to the people the pure truth of God; taking heaven and earth to witnesse the same with him.

Then was Master Guy brought thither; who, knéeling downe to have made his prayer at the foot of the ladder, was not suffered to make an end; for lifting him up they made him by and by to ascend the ladder. Being thereon he fastned his féet in the rundles, exhorting the people to carry themselves with all due respect towards the Ma­gistrates, shewing how some had overshot them­selves in that behalfe.

Then Master Guy exhorted them to stand stedfast in the doctrine which he had taught them; avouching that it was the undoubted truth of God. He could not finish his spéech fully, because the Commissioners gave a signe to the Executio­oner to hasten and make an end.

He was no sooner turned off the ladder, but there fell out such a tumult among the souldiers, being in armes in the market place, that they ran up and downe the City, shooting off their pieces against such as they met, shooting off their pie­ces against such as they met, as well Papists as others, yea killing one another in a grievous manner, so as some fell downe dead among many others that were wounded and hurt. And thus were they smitten with great feare without any ground thereof at all.

¶ Notes touching the estate of the Faith­full in the City of Venice, and of some executed there for the Truth, in the yeare, 1566.

IT pleased God for a long space to frée this no­ble City from being subjected to the cruell In­quisition of the Pope, by reason whereof the face of a Church was to be discerned there, from the yeare 1530, to the yeare 1542. They enjoyed such fréedome of conferring and scanning of the points of Religion there, that they came in a manner to make profession thereof publiquely; so as many strange nations came to take notice thereof. But the Father of lies observing this began to bestirre himselfe, by setting his Lieutenant on worke, who hath his seat at Rome, to disturbe these good be­ginnings: for it came to passe, that whilst mul­titudes of good Christians flocked thither from other parts, in processe of time such a course was taken by Antichrists supporters, that many of them were imprisoned, and afterward sent thence to Rome.

The rest by a new found execution, never till then heard of, were cast into the sea, and drowned in the bottome of the same. The manner of it was thus: After they had received sentence, an yron chaine was fastened about their middle with a stone of great weight tyed thereto; and then were they laid upon a planke betwéene two wherries, which being come to the place appointed, the wher­ries parting asunder, the Martyrs were forthwith drowned. Yet for all this many ceased not still to assemble together in a place appointed for that purpose, to talke and discourse of heavenly mat­ters, yea, and to make some collections for reliefe of the poore; so as in the yeare 1566, the called to them a minister of the Gospell, to establish & con­stitute a church among them; having also the Sup­per of the Lord administred to them. But some false brethren créeping in, under pretence of ma­king the same profession with them, betrayed them.

Then began the Popish Inquisition to be ere­cted there with the greatest cruelty that might be, towards the maintenance whereof the Pope sent every yeare a certaine summe of money to those holy Fathers, to be distributed among such as were appointed to be spies and revealers of such secrets as they could come to the knowledge of. Thus were many cast into the sea and drowned; [Page 44] some were sent to Rome; others were detained Anno 1567. so long in prisons (which were like graves) that they rotted there.

¶ Master Anthony Ricetto, Martyr.

AMongst others who were condemned to bée 10 drowned, there was one Master Anthony Ri­cetto of Vincence, having a sonne about twelve yeares old, who comming to visit his father, ac­cording to the discretion of children, besought him with teares to yéeld to those who had condemned him, and to save his life, that he might not be left fatherlesse.

A true Christian (said his father) is bound to forgoe goods, children, yea, and life it selfe, for the maintenance of Gods honor and glory: For which 20 cause he was now ready and resolved to lay it downe, the Lord assisting him.

The Lords of Venice offered to restore unto him his patrimony, which was partly morgaged and sold, if he would submit himselfe to the Church of Rome. But he refused whatsoever conditions they this way tendred unto him. Some that wer prisoners with him, namely one M. Iulius Ferlan hath reported much of the abstinence, pa­tience, and holinesse of this excellent man, so farre 30 as to parallel him to another Iohn Baptist. On the fiftéenth day of Fegruary 1565. which accor­ding to our computation is, 1566. Captain Clair­mont came unto him, and told him, that Francis Sega was resolved to recant. To which Ricetto * This Sega was his fel­low prisoner, of whom see more hereafter by and by replyed, What tell you me of Sega? I will performe my vowes unto the Lord my God; and so he was led bound fast to the wherry. A cer­taine Priest, who accompanied him, presented un­to him a wodden crucifix, exhorting him to returne 40 and to die in the favour of God, reconciling him­selfe unto the Church of Rome, the holy Spouse of Christ. But Ricetto, rejecting that Crucifix, besought the Priest and those that followed them to come out of the snare of the Devill, to cleave to Iesus Christ; and to live, not according to the flesh, but after the spirit; for if you doe otherwise, said he, assure your selves your unbeliefe will bring you into that lake of fire that shall never be quenched. For though you confesse with your 50 mouth that you know Iesus Christ, yet you not only deny him by your works, but you persecute him in his members, being seduced and [...] by the Pope, who is the open enemy of the Sonne of God.

When they were come nigh to the two castles, the Captaine bound his hands; now, because it was very cold, hée called for his cloke which they had taken from him. Then said the wherry man, fearest thou a little cold? What wilt thou do when 60 thou art cast into the Sea? Why art thou not carefull to save thy selfe from drowning? Doest thou not sée that the poore flea skippes hither and thither to save her life? To whom hée answered, And I am now flying to escape eternall death.

Being arrived at the place where he was to suffer, the Captaine put a chaine of yron about his middle with a very heavy stone fastened thereto. Then Ricetto, lifting his eyes to heaven, said, Father forgive them, for they know not what 70 they doe. And being laid on the planke, hée said, Lord Iesus into thy hands I commend my spirit: & then pulling this weighty stone towards him, not waiting till the boats were sundred one from another, as in such kind of executions they were wont to doe, this holy man slept in the Lord; which was no small terrour to the Magistrate, in that there was never any that died this kind of death before, with so much constancy and resolu­tion.

¶ Master Francis Spinola, Martyr.

THe Sunday following, Master Francis Spi­nola of Milaine, being about the age sixe and forty yeares, was apprehended and brought into the prison, called Des cless de dix, That of ten keyes, where he found poore Francis Sega, Two Francis Se­ga, Martyr. daies after (which as the eight and twentieth day of February) Spinola was brought before his Iudges, where they delivered into his hands a little Treatise of the Lords Supper, of which he fréely confessed he was the author; shewing that the opinion which he there maintained was this, That the bread and wine were the signes, and not the things signified, and therefore must not bée adored. He was questioned with as touching the power of the Pope, prayer to saints, and about Purgatory, He answered that the Popes power was from man, which the Romane Consistory and certaine Princes had given him: but that God the Father had given Iesus Christ to be the Mat. 28. 18. Head of the Church, and to have all power in hea­ven and earth. What is Peter then, or what is Paul? He further added, that he would not wor­ship nor pray to any other but to God only, as it is written. The memoirall of the Saints he well ap­proved, Luke 4. 8. Iohn 15. 5. as of those who were the true branches in­grafted into the Vine Christ.

Also for his part he acknowledgeth none other Heb. 1 3. Purgatory, but the bloud of Christ, as it is mani­fest in the Epistle to the Hebrews, and in the first 1 Iohn 1. 7. Epistle of Iohn.

Then as Spinola was returned into his pri­son, Francis Sega (whom he was ignorant of) waited his comming, holding a candle in his hand, and passing by with his Kéeéeper, saluted him by his name; whence it came to passe, that they two conferred together about the doctrine of the Gospell. Now howsoever Sega differed from The consan­cy of one mar­tyr puts life into another. Spinola touching the number of sacraments, yet he referred himselfe to the judgement of the true Church of Christ in that behalfe. But after that he had learned that Spinola had constantly stood to the defence of the truth, he was very joyfull and much comforted, saying, That God had reserved him for such a time as this, to make him partaker with him of so great consolation.

Hée wrote consolatory letters to Spinola, committing his writings into his hands, whereof some were preserved, and the rest lost by the care­lesnesse of a false brother. Upon the thrée and twen­tieth day of February, 1567. the Kéepers of the pri­son told Sega that he was to die within one houre after the shutting in of the evening. At the hearing of which newes hée intreated Spinola to pray with him. After prayer, Sega telling him that his soule was heavy to the death; Spinola gave him this answer, Feare not, for it will not be long be­fore it shall feele those joyes which shall endure for ever.

Being brought out of his darke dungeon, accor­ding to the time limited, hée tooke his leave of Spinola and the rest of the prisoners. As hée was entred into the boat, a certaine frier began to per­swade him to returne into the right way. Sega answered, that he was already in the way of our Lord Iesus Christ, and passing on he called upon the name of God. He séemed not to be much mo­ved at the binding of his hands, but was a little amazed at the fastening of his body to the chaine. Yet by and by taking unto him a Christian reso­lution, he tooke whatsoever they did unto him pati­ently. Being laid upon the bourd or planke, hée [Page 45] commended his soule into the hands of God, Anno 1568. and being left of the two boats (upon the edges whereof the planke was stayed) the one declining this way, and the other that way, he fell into his s­pulchre the sea, and died patiently.

Spinola soone after was presented the second time before his Iudges, namely the tenth of March, where he reproved the Popes Legate with his clergy there present, as also the Lords of Ve­nice who sat in judgement upon him, because con­trary 10 to their consciences they so persecuted the truth of God, calling them the offspring of the Pharisées, Caiphas, and the Gentiles, who now, As he did the first time hee was conven­ted before them. laid he, kill Iesus Christ in his members. The nine and twentieth of March following, hée was the third time brought before them, where they as­ked him if he would not recant his errors. He an­swered that the Doctrine he maintained was not erroneous, but the very same truth which Ie­sus Christ and his holy Apostles taught and prea­ched, 20 and for which all the Martyrs, as well of old time as now, have willingly layd downe their lives, and endured the paines of death.

After all this, Spinola became so weake, that Spinola be­gins to wa­ver. he determined to strike saile (as they say) and to apply himselfe to the time; being brought herein­to by the advice of some, namely that he should faine a giving of his consent to what the Magi­strate required of him, by meanes whereof hée might escape their hands. But about the tenth of 30 September, comming againe to himselfe, and But soone af­ter recovers himselfe. espying whereunto this determination tended, hée protested before all, that he would stand in the confession he had made from the first of April last past. Wherefore on the ninth of August hée was brought againe before the same Iudges, where he openly confirmed the same.

His Iudges said, that he should either be drow­ned or burned alive. Then on the thirtéenth of Ianuary 1566. (according to the Venetian ac­count, 40 which according to our was 1567.) on Tuesday morning being come before the Tribu­nall, sentence was pronounced upon him that hée should be drowned as an Heretique. To which he gave them this answer, I am no heretique, but the servant of Iesus Christ. At which words the popes legate commanded him to hold his peace, telling him that he lied. The next day in the morning (which was the last of Ianuary) he was brought into Saint Peters Chappell, where he was de­graded, 50 because he had béen a Priest; and the night following he was conducted unto the Sea, and there drowned in the place appointed; who died prayising and blessing God with invincible constancy.

¶ A relation of such things as fell out un­der the government of the Duke of Al­va, 60 and of many men put to death, 1567.

THe afflictions of the protestants in the Low-Countries were multiplied this yeare under the dominion of Ferdinando of Toledo Duke of Alva. It is well knowne that the Spaniards, using all their endeavours to rule over this Coun­trey at their pleasures, had no better opportunity 70 to accomplish their design, then to establish among them their inquisition, thereby to dominéere over the goods, honors, and lives of every one. The Nobles, Citizens, and Commons did what they could to oppose the same: to which purpose they had instantly besought the King, to afford them his royall presence, that hearing once their com­plaints, his Majesty might take some order for matters of so great importance; alledging to this end the example of the Emperour Charles his Father: who, upon a businesse fame inferiour to this, adventured himselfe with much diligence to passe through the enemies country, who were but a while before reconciled; onele to stay some mu­tinies begun in the City of Gand. These things had so moved his Majesty, that he made them a promise by letters of his comming. But his in­tention was broken off by such as were the up­holders of the inquisition, that so they might with the more facility attaine the end of their desires. In stead of their King then, they had sent unto them the Duke of Alva, who at his entrance found the prisons replenished with Gentlemen & other personages of note, whom the Dutches of Par­ma had left in bonds after her death,

Long di dthey languish in this captivity, whilst the Duke of Alva by faire promises dissembled a kind of méeke and gentle carriage of minde to­wards them, giving them some hope of a generall pardon, procéeding from the Kings clemency; that thus he might catch the lords and governors [...]he more cunningly into his nets, whereof the Lord Lemorall Earle of Egmond, Prince of Gand, Governor of Flanders and Artois, and others of quality gave but too lamentable experi­ence; who being fed with vaine hopes were at length inhumanely put to death.

The sixéene Provinces also subjecting them­selves To wit, Bra­bant, Lam­bourg, Lux­embourg, Guelderland, Flanders, Artois, Hay­naut, Holland [...]ealand, Namur, [...]ut­phein, Frise­land, Ma­lines, Vtrecht Over [...]seiz and Gra­ningu [...]. [...] Le Conseil de sang. under this new government, lost their an­tient liberties and priviledges; which evidently appeared by the exploits done from the yere 1557. hitherto by a new counsell of twelve, elected and setled there by the Duke; the principall of which were Vergas and Delrio, the Fathers of the in­quisition, which Councell was commonly called the Councell of bloud,

¶ The death of two Barons of Battembourg, the one called Gysorecht, and the other Thierri, brethren, with certaine other Gentlemen executed the same day at Bruxells, 1568.

AMong many Gentleman and Captains who were apprehended after the discom [...]ture of the Assembly in Holland, whom the Dutches of Parma had imprisoned in the castle of Villford, the two brothers of Battembourg a most antient Barony scituated upon Mense, about two miles off from Nieumegne, did manifest above others how much they had profited by being instructed in the Church of Geneva. The elder of them was Gysbrecht, and the other Dietrich or Thierri; who from the flower of their youth had constantly pro­fessed and confessed the pure Doctrine of the Go­spell.

On Tuesday the first of Iune, Anno 1568. the Duke of Alva began to declare to the world his fained méeknesse, putting to death the same day these two breathren, besides the Lords, Heter Dandelet, Philip Wingle, &c. They were first brought into Provost Spellans house, néere the horse faire, in the City of Bruxels, compassed about with a strong guard, and many drummes beating, that none might heare what were their last spéeches. As they went to their death, Bat­tembourg the elder séemed to be somewhat pen­sive, whereas Dietrich his brother was very chéerefull, comforting the other with his gracious words, saying, Ah brother, is not this the day we have so much desired? Be not sorrowfull now; for it is the highest honor that can befall us here to suffer for the Doctrine of the Sonne of God. It [Page 46] may be for the love you beare me, you grieve to sée me dye first: I am content that you should drinke of that cup before me, in regard you are the elder; if not, all is one, séeing we are going to our God.

Gysbrecht by and by replied, Thinke not, deare Brother, that the joy of the holy Ghost is taken from me now I am drawing nigh to the Lord, be­ing ready to dye for his holy name.

Then ascending the scaffold, after he had made 10 his fervent prayers to God, the Executioner ta­king off his head, he slept happily & swéetly in the Lord. His brother following him next with such alacrity, as much astonished the spectators.

He desired, as some say, to sée his brother, and when he had espied his head, he cried, I shall by and by be with thee, my brother. So after he had ended his prayer, he was by a quicke dispatch uni­ted unto him.

Those who testifie these things report, That 20 the other Gentleman had so much favour as to bée buried; but these two brethren were made a spe­ctacle, being hanged up: the cause was, for that in the very same morning they suffered, as also be­fore, they directly set themselves against the Ido­latries which were proposed unto them.

The Saturday after, the fifth of Iune, the Earles of Eagmond and Horne were beheaded, and there made a publique gazing flock. Of which two, the Earle of Home, who died last, gave an 30 evident proofe of that true knowledge of God wherewith he was indued, and in which hée had more especially increased in the time of his trou­bles and afflications.

¶ An extract of a complaint with a pro­testation of the Prince of Orange and the 40 Gentlemen of the Low countries, touching their oppressions.

THis yeare in the month of Iuly, the Prince of Ornage, William and Nassau, accompanied with many Lords and Gentlemen of the Low-Countries, all professors of the Gospell, for pre­vention of the slanders and pretences of rebelion 50 put upon them by the enemies thereof, published in writing a declaration; that it might appeare to all, that they were so farre off from plotting any treason against the Kings Majesty, that on the contrary, they did by all the meanes they could acknowledge him to be their naturall Prince and Soveraign. The true causes indéed for which they tooke up armes under the authority of their Prince, for their owne defence, as also of those who professed the protestant religion, were the ex­tortions, 60 the confiscations of body and goods, with the continuall condemnations and putting to death even of the most noble personages of the Countrey.

And that the Prince of Orange might make knowne to all, what injustice and cruelties were exercised upon those of the Religion, he discovered the notorious subtilties of the cardinall of Gravel­la and others, who under the cloaks of the preten­ded catholique religion, sought nothing else there­by 70 but the diminishing of Gods glory, the Kings authority, and the welfare of the commonwealth, shedding the bloud of many a true Christian, by whose death followed the losse of their temporall estates; and all, forsooth, under pretence of Iu­stice.

And for as much as tortures, vexations, ba­nishments, executions both by fire and water, by strait imprisonments, sword, and gibbets did still increase more and more; that for these con­siderations the cause was lawfull and good, in ta­king upon them the defence of so miserable a people, to whom the Dutchesse of Parma, Gover­nesse under his Majesty, had expresly permitted the preaching of the Gospell, for preventing of the perils and dangers which threatened the ruine of the said countries.

And as the said Prince had béen a faithfull and loyall servant to his Majesty, in doing him many acceptable services, without either sparing his person or goods, so was he also ready prest to be imployed still in the like, more then at any time heretofore. And thus procéeding on further, hée made it apparant to every one whose judgement was not forestalled, that the Duke of Alva, who in respect of the dignities conferred upon him ought himselfe to be a patterne and a protector of the Nobility and Gentry, had notwithstanding put to death thréescore gentlemen, with others of quality, rich Burgemasters of Bruxels, and of other Cities besides; that this his ambition, be­ing risen to a notable height of cruelty, durst put to death the Illustrious Earles of Egmond and Horne, without any shew of law or equity, who had so faithfully served the Emperour Charles of famous memory in his wars.

Yea, that he might yet further debase the Nobi­lity of the Countrey, which is as it were the prin­cipall support of his Majesty; hée caused the heads of the said Earles to be set upon poles and forkes; By such spectacles charging upon their parents and friends much obloquy and disgrace. Yea, this horrible execution did strike such a feare and terror into many, that to avoyd these oppressi­ons they fled the countrey. For a conclusion he added, that all these things layd together, the issue thereof tended to the extirpation of all true Religi­on, and consequently the depriving of the faithfull not onely of their spirituall, but corporall good al­so. And therefore as a Prince, being a native member of the Empire, he held himselfe obliged, in having compassion over the wrackes made among so many poore Christians, to lend them his best helpe & furtherance for the frée passage of the Gospell, and the consolation of such of his Maje­sties good Subjects, as were persecuted, impriso­ned, and oppressed.

¶ Before wée shut up the History of the yeare 1568. wée will adde to the former Martyrs some that were executed in the Low-countries at di­vers times in the said yeare, without tying our selves to any strict order, touching their death.

¶ Schoblant the sonne of Barthel, Iohn de Hues, Ioris Coomans, Martyrs.

THe eleventh of February there were taken and imprisoned in Antwerpe, Schoblant the son of Barthel, Iohn de Hues, and Zoris Coo­mans. After which, they were all joyfull and glad in the Lord, confessing that nothing fell out in this regard, but by his divine providence; as it appeares by Letters written to their brethren the seventéenth of March, containing that which fol­loweth.

Séeing it is the will of God that we should suffer for his holy name, and in the quarrell of his Gospell, we certifie you brethren, that we are of good courage hitherto, howsoever the flesh con­tinually rebels against the spirit, counselling it ever and anone according to the advice of the old serpent. But we are well assured that Christ who [Page 47] hath bruised, will also still bruise the Serpents head, and not leave us comfortlesse. True it is, we are now and then pricked in the héele, but that Ioh. 14. 18. Rom. 16. 20. Gen. 3. 15. Mat. 11. 35. is all the Serpent can doe; nor are we discouraged, but kéep our faith close to the promises of God, who is the Lord of heaven and earth, having crea­ted all things of nothing.

He forsooke not Ioseph in Egypt, nor left the Gen. 39. 21. Dan. 3. 25. Dan 6. 22. thrée yong men in the fiery furnace: no, nor Da­niel in the Lions Den. This is the God of Abra­ham, 10 Isaac, and Iacob, and of their righteous po­sterity; so that we can without feare say with the Prophet David, the Lord is my helpe, tower, Psal. 1 [...]. strength, and refuge. By such and the like Scrip­tures, deare brethren, we comfort our selves in our bands, rejecting all confidence in any man whatsoever. Be not dismaid then, good brethren and sisters, for our bands and imprisonment. For so is the good will of God now towards us. And therefore pray rather that he will give us grace to 20 persevere constantly unto the end, so be it.

THe next day he entreated the Iaylour with a great deale of earnestnesse that he would not suffer the Fryers and Monks to come into trou­ble him: for, said he, such kinde of people can do me no good, séeing the Lord hath already sealed up the assurance of my salvation in my heart by his holy Spirit. I am now going to my spouse, put­ting off this earthly mantle, to enter into the re­lestiall glory, where I shall be fréed from all su­perstitions. And then he added farther, would to God I might be last that these Tyrants should put ot death, and that their thirst after blood might be so quenched with mine, that the poore Church of God from henceforth might enjoy her rest and quiet.

Having sung the fortieth Psalme with his fel­low prisoner, concluding the same with saying the Lords prayer, they kissed one another, and com­mended one another unto God with many teares.

After which the executioner came in, and when he had bound him, he led him away. In going out of the prison he said, farewell Ioris, I goe before thée, follow thou me. Ioris answered, so will I brother, I will follow thée. In his passage to­wards the place of execution, he forgot not his brethren, but manifested his love to them by such signes as he could. Being tyed to the stake he was burned alive, calling upon the name of the Lord, in the yeare 1568. the tenth day of Iuly.

¶ Iohn Hues finished his course in Prison

¶ Giles Annik, Iohn Annik his son, and Lovis Meulen, Martyrs, 1568.

GIles Annik, with Iohn Annik his son, were driven from Renay in Flanders, and retired unto Emden in East Friesland. But by reason 60 of their so sudden departure, they could not take their wives with them; and therfore returned thi­ther again in the yeare 1568. to convey thē thence. The tyranny of the Duke of Alva and his Spa­niards was then in the height; by reason whereof they durst not enter the towne openly, but take up their lodging in the evening at an honest mans house, called Lovis Meulin. Now it was this night in which the enemies had foreappointed to make a secret search in the towne for such as pro­fessed the Gospell, knowing nothing of these two 70 who were but now come thither. So passing by this house, and séeing the light of a candle in it, they imagined to méet with their prey there; where­fore forcing the doore open, they tooke these two pri­soners, together with their host; God having ap­pointed them to be the witnesses of Christ.

So after they had béen detained in bands, they were all thrée condemned by the Magistrates to death, as heretiques. Giles was the first that they brought to the place of execution, and when she Priests offered to put their Idoll into his hands, he refused it: whereat his adversaries be­ing moved caused him to be gagged, that the peo­ple might not heare him speake ought to their edi­fication. Then was he burned, dying constantly and blessedly in the Lord.

Forthwith the Sergeants were sent to fetch his son out of prison; who, being endued with a sin­gular fortitude and constancy, called to him one whose name was Iohn Camber, being the first man that laid hold on him at his apprehension, saying, I forgive thée my death: then preparing himselfe to die in the Lord, the hangman cut off his head. Likewise Lovis Meulen, who having lodged these strangers, according to the rule of the Apostle, was executed by the sword, which death he willingly endured for the name of Christ in the yeare, 1568.

¶ Louyes de Kiken-Poost, Martyr, 1568.

THis woman was the widow of one Huges Moybert borne in Renay, about the age of sixty yeares, one that truly feared God. The Magistrate of Renay imprisoned her in the yeare 1568. because two yeares before she with her children had consented that a Minister should preach in an outhouse on the backside of her dwelling; she was also very charitable in relée­ving the poore, every way shewing forth the fruits of a true saving Faith. Having béen kept in prison seven moneths, she was condemned to die the nine and twentieth of Iuly. After her condemnation the Curate of Saint Martins came into the prison, purposing to have heard her confession. But the woman spake unto him with such a divine grace, and with a spirit so reple­nished with zeale, that the teares trickled downe his chéekes, and going his way he said, I came to comfort you, but I have néed rather to be com­forted of you.

Then being brought by the Sergeants to the place of execution she was beheaded; unto which she yéelded her selfe with much boldnesse and joy of heart, July the ninth.

A strange accident fell out upon the death of this woman; for a cousin of hers being with child, and ready to lie downe at the same time when this Martyr was going to be executed, hearing the sound of the Bell (which usually toules when any are to suffer) she fell into a trembling, and remain­ed so thrée wéekes, beyong her reckoning, her fruit stirring to and fro in her wombe as if a Weaver had moved his shuttle from one end of his Web to another; the neck of it bowing downe as if it had béen broken with some blow. By which it appea­red that these cruell tyrants were the cause of this poore innocents death. The woman viewing this strange sight sent for the foresaid Curate; who being come in, and beholding this spectacle, sud­denly swounded and was never well after to his dying day.

¶ Notes touching Christopher Gauderin, Martyr, and others.

THis Christopher was bred up under the Ab­bot of [...]; who dying, the said Christo­pher addicted himselfe to the making of Linnen Cloth, which he quickly grew [...]pert in. But ha­ving béen trained up in a bad schoole, as soone as the Sunday was come, he spent and consumed all [Page 49] his wéekes earnings. Now by reason of a friend of his that wrought with him, called Louys Stallens, God brought him into the right way. For the said Louis would often tell him, that hée The fruit of good counsell. ought rather to distribute of his gettings to the Poore, than to spend them so wastfully; for if he continued so, God would surely call him to an ac­count for it. These and the like exhortations so wrought upon this spendthrift, that he began to alter and change his course; so as in stead of fre­quenting 10 Tavernes, he became a diligent hearer of Sermons, and also gave himselfe much to the study of the holy Scriptures: insomuch that not long after he was called by the Church to the Of­fice of a Deacon, the which he discharged careful­ly and faithfully.

Having occasion to go to a place called Aude­naud, in the moneth March, 1567. to make di­stribution of certaine almes to the poore there, hée was arrested and sent prisoner to the Castle by 20 the Bailiffe, who had formerly séene him in the said Abbats house. The Bailiffe asked him how he came now to turne heretique; for you learned not this (said he) of your Master the Abbat. Nay Sir, said Christopher, I am no heretique, but a right beléeving Christian; which he taught mée not indéed, but rather other vile qualities, the which I am ashamed now to rehearse.

In prison he had many disputes touching mat­ters of faith, which he so defended and maintained 30 by the Word of God, that he put his adversaries to slience.

Some objecting against him his youth, being about the age of thirty yeares, he would tell them, that mans life consisted but of two dayes, viz. the day of his birth, and the day of his death, and therefore he must néeds die once: for my part therefore (said he) I am now willing by death to passe into eternall life.

Perceiving in the evening that he was cer­tainly to die the next day, the striking off of his 40 bolts being a signe thereof, he ceased not to poure out his soule to God in prayer, untill ten of the clock, doing the like in the morning very early. His prayer being ended, he put on a cleane shirt, and washed himselfe, saying to his fellow Priso­ners, Brethren, I am now going to be married, I hope before noone to drinke of the wine of the kingdome of heaven. When he came downe he found thrée prisoners who were prepared to suffer 50 with him; namely Io. Liebert, William Spiere, and a woman called Iannekin Bearts.

These foure exhorted one another, and encou­raged each other to suffer death constantly. Which done, a Fryer forthwith presented himselfe before them, comming as he said to convert them. But Christopher said unto him, Away from us thou se­ducer of soules, for we have nothing to doe with thée. Whereupon he by and by departed. Then came in the hangman; who as he was busie about 60 them to put into every one of their mouthes a gag, they bad one another farewell. Iohn Liebert said, What, shall we not have liberty in this our last houre to praise God with our voice & tongue? Christopher answered, Brother, let not this dis­courage A confident speech. us; for the greater wrong our enemies thinke to doe unto us, the more assistance we shall finde from God: and so never ceased to comfort them till himselfe was gagged also.

Then the Executioner brought them to the 70 Towne house to heare their sentence read; which in summe was this, That they should be hanged because they had béen present at the hearing of ser­mons. Thus these thrée men yéelded up their soules to God with admirable constancy, at the Gallowes.

The woman, being every way veriuously gi­ven, was condemned to be beheaded, because shée had sung Psalmes, and made a certaine exhorta­tion out of the word of God to her neighbours, at a womans up-sitting. She was beheaded on the back side of the Townehouse. Now because her body was much enféebled, she was caused to sit upon a stoole, receiving thrée blowes with the sword overthwart the téeth. Yet shée constantly sate still till she obtained the Crowne of Martyr­dome, the same day in which the forementioned Martyrs dyed, which was the second of Iune. Anno 1568.

¶ Piere Coulogue, and Betken his Maid ser­vant, Martyrs, Anno 1568.

THis Peter Coulogue, by his Trade being a Goldsmith dwelling in Bzeda, had long ser­ved the Church there in the office of a Deacon; wherein he caried himselfe with the good appro­bation of all. His house also was frée for the as­sembly to méet in, as oft as the exercises of Chri­stian religion were performed amongst them.

But the enemies of the truth not enduring the swéet favour hereof imprisones him, and laid him in irons: which the faithfull there tooke very hea­vily, using all the meanes they could to have ac­cesse to visit him. But the enemies taking know­ledge thereof caused him to be conveyed into the Castle; whence both his and the Churches sor­row was yet further encreased, because they could not now come to be a comfort one to another.

His servant Betken, being very zealous and well read in the Scriptures, brought him his or­dinary dyet from day to day, never ceasing to comfort and confirme him out of the Word of God. All which she had liberty to do nine moneths together. At length they imprisoned her also: whereof she was right glad, thinking her self hap­py to suffer ought for righteousness sake. Not long after Peter was put to the torture; which after he had endured, they came in like manner to his maid servant Betken: who spake unto them after this maner, My masters, wherefore will you put me to this torture, séeing I have no way of­fended you? Is it for my faiths sake? You néed not torment me for that; for as I was never asha­med to make a confession thereof, no more will I be now at this present before you; I willfréely shew you any minde therein. But for all this they procéeded on with that which they intended. Which she perceiving said, Alas my Masters, it it be so that I must suffer this paine, then give me leave first to call upon God. To which her request they yéelded. Now whilest she was making her prayer, one of the Commissioners was so surpri­sed with feare and terror that by and by he swoun­ed, and could not be fetched again. And thus the poore maid escaped the torture.

Soone after being examined touching her faith, they condemned these two innocents to be burn­ed. Now as they were led to be executed, great sorrowings and complaints were heard among the people. But as for Peter and his Maid, they prai­ed to God with ardent affection, that he would perfect the good work which he had begun in them, and assist them with the power of his holy spirit, untill they had finished their course.

The courage and constancy of the said Betken did so move many of the godly, both men and wo­men, that not casting what perill or danger might ensue thereof, they brake through the multitude, embracing the Prisoners, and praising God for their constancy; saying, Fight manfully, for the crowne is ready prepared for you.

After they were come where they should suffer, [Page 50] Betken began to speake unto the people with an Anno 1568 amiable countenance, saying thus unto them. Brethren and sisters, be you alwaies obedient to the word of God, and feare not those that can kill the body, for on the soule they can have no power: as for me, I am now going to méet my glorious Spouse the Lord Iesus Christ. And then falling both downe upon their knées, they prayed to the Lord with great devotion. Being risen up from prayer, the executioner laying hold of them bound 10 them with chaines to the stake, and then stran­led Peter, but would not strangle the other, who encouraged her Master till he had yéelded up the ghost, and till the fire had taken hold of her selfe. Then was she heard and séen to magnifie the Lord out of the middest of the flames; so as ma­ny among the multitude were ravished at her in­vincible constancy. Thus did these two Martyrs of the Lord give up their last breath in the fire. 20 May the 29. Anno 1568.

Giles Meyere Martyr, Anno 1568.

IN. Flanders at a place called Vinderhout, di­stant from Gand about a mile, there was a certaine Curate called Giles de Meyere whom it pleased. God illuminate with the true know­ledge of his Gospell. Now having received a ta­lent 30 from God, he would not hide it with the Evill servant; but sought all meanes how to im­ploy Mat. 25. 18. the same. He had the feare of God alwaies be­fore his eyes, manifesting the same as well in his Doctrine as in his conversation, being carefull to instruct those whom. God had committed to his charge. Yea, he went from house to house com­forting Acts 20. 20. and exhorting every one, as occasion ser­ved, out of the word of God; above all, labour­ing with them to beware of the abhominable su­perstitions 40 of the Papacy.

He taught them that forgivenesse of sins, the grace of God, and eternall life, was not to be ob­tained by our own merits, but by the frée and on­ly grace of God in Iesus Christ.

The Clergy of Gand having notice given them hereof, namely, that their Doctrine and authority would come to be little set by, if this Cu­rate should procéed on thus in his course without let, they never rested untill they had pursued him 50 to the death. They imprisoned him then, in the moneth of March, anno 1567. casting him into a déep and dark hole, where for a certaine space hée remained, bearing this his affliction patiently, and constantly calling upon God night and day, praising him for estéeming him worthy to suffer for his sake. In which his afflictions many good people, who came often to visite him, received such instruction, and consolation from him, that they were hardly drawn to leave him, till of ne­cessity 60 they must; their departure was alwayes accompanied with abundance of teares.

The Priests and others of that rabble ceased not likewise to ply him with disputations, think­ing by that meanes to make him renounce his Faith; but to no purpose: for he remained still firme and constant, kéeping himselfe close to the word of God written, which so vexed them, that they procured him to be laid in the Castle, where his sentence was to be hanged; The Spaniards 70 being then at Gand tooke him thence, bound him, girding and straining him strangely with cords, and would néeds have him burned. As he was led thither, they abused him shamefully with mockes, thrusting him forward, and striking him cruelly. The Captaine of the band gave him a blow over the face with his Gantlet, which much disfigured him. Finally, these tyrants handled him worse then any dog, only because his patient and constant carriage of himselfe tormented and enraged them.

Being come to the place, they thrust him into his little Cabbin piled up with fagots and wood, and then set fire unto him; where he was heard distinctly and plainly to use these words (albeit they had gagged him) Father into thy hands I commend my spirit. Thus this faithfull witnesse of Ieuss Christ dyed quiently and constantly in the Lord, April the fourth, Anno 1568.

¶ A notable cruelty executed upon a good woman called Perrette Curtet in the yere 1569.

AS she was travelling from Orleance to a place called Moutagris where she intended to méet her husband, called Master Authony Cha [...]ornter des Meringes, who had escaped the fury of his enemies: she being in her Inne at supper, two or thrée desperate villaines knocked at the dore, and comming in asked of the said Cur­tet, Art thou not Meringes wife? shée answered yes, Then rapping forth execrable blasphemies they said, thou art she whom we looke for. This done, they stripped her into her smocke, tooke away her montes and rings from her, and brought her to the river side; where after great blasphe­mies they said, confesse thée. The woman an­swered, Séeing I must die, give me leave to call upon God first. They deriding her, said, Prap then, let us heare what kind of prayer thou wilt make. She having in her prayers commended her soule to God, one of them sware, Gods death, is this all? wilt thou say nothing else? Then said one of them to another, Let us cast her into the river: which they agréed to doe; some taking her by the head, and others by the héels, and so throw­ing her in, heaped great pieces of yce upon her to cause her to sink, and then went their way. But understanding that the poore woman had got up­on a great flake of yce, to save her selfe thereon, Peter Gouge returned, who was one of the mur­therers, and had betrayed her into the hands of the rest, notwithstanding her husband had cove­nanted with him to convey her to him in safety; this Gouge, I say, finding her there, gave her a deaths wound, the which had never come to light, had not the said Gouge confessed the same, being imprisoned by the Duchesse of Ferrare for that very fact; yet escaped he unpunished (contrary to the law of Provosts) albeit hée was sent to the Provost Marshall of Montagris to that end, and was set at liberty, for the hatred which these bare against the Doctrine of the Gospell, whereof the said des Meringes was a Minister.

Now the dead body floating to and fro upon the water rested no where, untill it came over against the lodging where the said des Meringes lay (as if it had there demanded erecution of ju­stice upon the offenders) where being known and conveyed thence was buryed by some of the as­sembly who yet remained in the City.

¶ Another cruelty committed in Orleance about the same time.

A Woman in the City of Orleance was con­strained by the murtherers (who broke in upon her husband in the night) to stand and hold the candle to them, whilest they murshered him.

¶ Of the comming of the Queene of Na­varre to the City of Paris in France, with the manner of her sickenesse and death there.

BEfore I come to no [...]tion the bloudy Messa­cres of France, especially that of Paris, anno [Page 52] 1572. which made way to all the rest, I cannot Anno 1572. omit to place here, as an entrance thereunto, the history of that noble and vertuous Lady Iane de Albert, Quéene of Navarre, because it containes much matter worthy of due observation.

This good Queene, before she could be drawn to come to Paris to solemnise the mariage of her son the Prince of Navarre with the sister of Charles the ninth then King of France, received letters upon letters from the said King to accompany 10 the Prince her son in that solemnity: now, wheras she cast some doubts touching her sonnes mariage with one of another religion, the King assured her that all things should be so wrought, as should give her good satisfaction and content; promising that he would get a dispensation from the Pope Pope Pius whilest he li­ved could by no means en­dure to heare of, or give his co [...]sen [...] to this mariage: but he died, & then way was made for this mariage to bee concluded. to that end. But when the Quéen understood that the King was minded to have this marriage so­lenmized at Paris, she would by no means heare of it: for I will not, said, she, put any confidence in 20 that so mutinous a people, being the sworne ene­mies both of my selfe and mind.

Still the King persisted in his sute for the ob­taining of the same at her hands. Also having in­telligence by some of his agents, that the quéen of Navarre began a little to waver, he sollicited her yet once againe to come, assuring her that all things should be caried in such peaceable sort, that she should have no cause to complaine. At length the Quéene came from Rochell to Bloyes in the 30 moneth of March, 1572. with great attendance, where it is incredible to thinke what welcome she had on all sides, especially from the King & his brethren, &c. who yet, when all was done, could say to his Mother, Now Madam, have I not quit my selfe well? Let me alone, and I will bring them all into the net.

In Aprill following were the Articles conclu­ded concerning the mariage of the Prince of Na­varre with the Kings sister. In the beginning of May the King wooes the Quéene of Navarre 40 again to come to Paris for preparing of things fit­ting for this mariage; which she accordingly yéelded unto, and parting from Bloyes on the sixth of the said moneth, came to Paris on the fifteenth of the same. After which she went from place to place in the City into sundry houses and shops, to finde out such things as might tend to the adorning of the day of so great a solem­nity.

The quēene mother could by no means brooke 50 this good Quéene; and therefore not finding with what colour she could dispatch her with the rest, and yet fearing the height of her spirit if shée should survive, as also that she could not then so worke upon the flexibility of the Prince her sonne as she intended, she consulted with one Rene, whose practise it was to impoyson things; who by such meanes adventured to poyson the Prince of Conde by the sent of a poysoned apple, which upon 60 some suspition was first tryed upon a dog: and it had almost cost the Princes chirurgion his life, by smelling too nigh thereto. This Rene, selling to the Quéen of Navarre his perfumed drugs, found the way how to poyson her therewith, although others thought the contrary. But the said Rene was heard afterwards to make his brags, that hée had the like in store for two or thrée more, who sus­pected no such matter.

On Wednesday the fourth of Iune, the Quéen fell sick of a continuall Fever, and kept her bed; 70 which procéeded, as it was given out, from the griefe she had in her lights, wherein by long conti­nuance was bred an imposthume, she being also distempered with the heat of the season and her extraordinary journeyes. This burning Fever grew so strong upon her, that within five daies after she died, to the great griefe of the better sort, but to the joy of the secret counsell.

The malady indéed was in her braine, which was not searched: in which the Quéen Mother had an hand, though she séemed much to mourne for the affliction of her good friend. Now foras­much as in the time of her sicknesse she mani­fested with what spirit she was guided, we will here set downe the true narration of her behavi­our, both in the same her sicknesse, and also at her death.

Perceiving in her selfe by the strength of the disease (howsoever others sleighted it) that shée could not long continue, she made her selfe ready to receive from the hand of God that which he had appointed concerning her; and to that end reque­sted she might have such nigh about her, as might comfort her in this case out of the word of God, as also to pray with her and for her, according to that which Saint Iames saith, Is any sicke among you, Iohn 5. 14, 16. Let him call for the Elders of the Church, and let them pray over such a one, knowing that the fer­vent praier of righteous man availeth much with God.

Thus according to her desire a Minister resor­ting unto her shewed out of the Scriptures, that Christians ought in all things to submit them­selves to the will of God, as to the Father of spirits, Heb. 1 [...]. that they might live. And albeit the rigor of his chastisements doth somtimes séem to our flesh as if they were sent to none other end but for our ruine and destruction; yet ought we to consider, that because he is just he can do nothing but justi­ly, and being a father, he cannot but therein séeke the welfare of his afflicted children.

To which she replyed, I take all this, saith she, as sent from the hand of God my most mercifull Father; nor have I during this extremity feared to die, much lesse murmured against him for in­flicting the same upon me: knowing that what so­ever he doth, he doth the same so, as all in the end shall turne to my everlasting good.

The Minister continuing in his spéech, added, That the causes of sicknesses and diseases must be sought beyond the course of physiyke, which al­wayes lookes to the corruption of the humours, or to the more noble parts of the body any way di­stempered: for howsoever it was not amisse to have respect to these things as to second causes, yet ought we to ascend higher, namely to the first, even to God himself, who disposeth of all his crea­tures as it pleaseth him. He it is That make the Deut. 32. 39. wound and heales, that kils and makes alive. And therefore to him we ought to direct our prayers for comfort in all our griefes and sufferings, and in the end for full deliverance; séeing it is no hard matter with him to restore health unto us, if his good pleasure be such.

To this she answered, that she depended whol­ly upon Gods providence, knowing that all things are wisely disposed by him, and therefore be sought him to furnish her with all such graces as he saw to be necessary for her salvation. As for this life, said she, I am in a manner we aned from the love of it, in regard of the afflictions which have follow­ed me from my youth hitherto, but especially be­cause I cannot live without daily offending my good God, with whom I desire to be with all my heart.

The Minister told her, that long life, how ful of troubles soever it were, was notwithstanding to be esteemed among the blessings of God, seeing Deut. 5. 16. his promise implyes so much; and not onely so, but because our life may many wayes serve to his glo­ry, and is both an honor and a pledge of his favor, even as it is to him whom his prince imploys long in his service having had experience of his fide­lity for many yeares together. In which respect she was earnestly requested to pray, that if it were [Page 53] the will of God to imploy her yet longer in his Anno 1566. service, for the further inlargement of his Go­spell, that he would grant unto her such recovery of health, and good disposition of body, that with renued strength shée might bee encouraged to finish her course much more nobly than hereto­fore.

Whereupon she protested, that in regard of her owne particular her life was not dear unto her, séeing so long as she lived in this fraile flesh, 10 she was still prone and apt to sinne against God: onely, she said, her care was somewhat for her Children (which God had given her) in respect they should be so soone deprived of her now in their young yeares; yet not doubting, said she, but al­though it should please God to take me from them that himselfe will be a Father and a protector over them, as he hath béen to me in my greatest afflictions; and therefore I commit them wholly to his government and fatherly care: these were 20 her very words.

The Minister said, that he blessed God to sée in her Majesty this assurance of faith, and so to cast her care upon the providence of God, praying her still to persevere therein, which would sufficiently seale unto her truth of her faith. And thus, said, he, did the Patriarkes in times pasT commit the care of their posterity over into the hands of Gen. 24 1. Gen. 27. & 48. 15. & 49. God; as may appeare by Abraham, Isaac, and Ia­cob, touching their severall blessings.

But yet is was very requisite, as he said, that 30 she should make choise of such, who, for their sin­cerity both in life and doctrine, might continue to water in these young Princely plants the séeds of piety, which had béen sowne in them by her so great paine and industry, séeing it was to bée hoped, that the example of her faith and constan­cy in the service of God, which she had set before them, would serve as a perpetuall inducement to imitate her so noble vertues.

Now whereas she had againe declared that 40 death was not terrible unto her, because it was the way by which we passe hence to our eternall rest; The Minister told her, that Christians had little cause to feare death, in regard they should Because by death we passe to life. Iohn 8. 51, 52. Iohn 11. 26. Iohn 11. 13, 14. Acts 7. 60. 1 Cor. 15. 55. not die at all, according to Christs, words in the Gospell of Iohn, he that liveth and beléeveth in me shall never die. For death (to speake properly) is no death to them, but a sleep; being often so called in the Scriptures; and therefore Christ for their 50 sakes hath overcome and triumphed over it in his owne person. So as now we may cry out with saint Paul, O death where is thy sting? O grave where is thy victory?

She was often admonished by him to make confession of her sinnes before God, shewing that bodily diseases tended to the dissolution of nature, and that death was the wages of sinne; declaring Rom 6. 23. moreover that by this her chastisement she might discerne what she had deserved, if God should now enter into iudgement with her, not onely in 60 regard of the fall of our first Parents, in which guilt Rom. 5. 12. she was enwrapped, as well as others, but also by her owne personall sinnes, séeing the best of men or women in the world are in themselves but poore, miserable and wretched offendors: yea, if the Lord should punish us according to our de­merits, we could expect nothing at his hands but eternall death and condemnation.

At these words, she began with her hands and eies lifted up to heaven, to acknowledge, that her Psal. 19. [...] sinnes which she had committed against the Lord 70 were innumerable, and therefore more then she was able to reckon up: But yet she hoped that God for Christs sake, in whom she put her whole affiance, would be mercifull unto her.

From the later clause of her spéech the Mini­ster tooke occasion to declare at large upon what ground she was to expect the fruit of this mercy of God in Christ; séeing the whole have no need Mar. 2. 17. of Phisitian, but they that are sicke: and therfore Christ saith in that place, Hee came not to call the righteous, but sinners unto repentance; And that he is ready to fill the hungry with good things, Luke 1. 53. whereas in the meane while he sends the rich empty away. Of all which, said he, you ought so much the rather to be perswaded in your consci­ence, by how much the more the holy spirit wit­nesseth to your spirit that you are the childe of God, Crying in you, Abba, Father. For what is Rom. 8. 15. What faith is. faith else, but a firme trust and assurance of the good will of God, manifested towards us in his blessed sonne?

Now the Minister, fearing he might some way offend her by his overlong discourse, held his peace; the rather because the Physitians thought that a long continued spéech might bee hurtfull unto her; but she on the contrary earnestly re­quested him not to forbeare speaking unto her about these matters of life and eternall salvation; adding, that she wow felt the want of it, in re­gard that since her comming to Paris shee had béen somewhat remisse in hearing such exhortati­ons out of the word of God; And therefore I am now the more glad, saith she, to receive comfort out of it in this my so great extremity.

The Minister then endeavoured to set before her the happinesse of heaven, and what those joyes Psal. 16. 11. were which the faithfull there possesse in the pre­sence of God: which when the scriptures intend to discover unto us, they onely tell us that the eie 1 Cor. 259. hath not seene, nor hath the eare heard, nor hath it entred into the heart of man, to conceive what these things are, which God hath prepared for them that love him. To which purpose he used this simllitude; as if a King, minding greatly to honor Simile. some noble persome noble personage, should bring him to his court, and there shew him his state and atten­dance, his Treasures, with all his most precious Iewels: even so, saith he, will the Lord one day reveale to all his elect and faithfull people his magni [...]cence and glory, with all the treasures of his Kingdome, after he hath gathered them home to himselfe, decking and adorning them with light, incorruption and immortality.

This happiness therefore being so great, her highnesse, he said, ought to be the lesse carefull about the leaving of this transitory life, seeing that for an earthly kingdome, which she was now to forgoe, she should inherit an heavenly; and for temporall good things, which vanish and come to nothing in the using, she should for even enjoy those that were eterenall and everlasting. For her faith being now firmely setled upon our Lord Ie­sus Christ, she might be suffered to obtaine eter­nall salvation by him, on which words he tooke oc­casion to direct his speech in more particualar man­ner unto her, saying:

Madame, doe you verily beleeve that Iesus Christ come into the world to save you? and doe you expect the full forgivenesse of all your sinnes, by the shedding of his bloud for you?

To which she readily answered she did; belie­ving that he was her only Saviour and Mediator, looking for salvation from none other, knowing that he hath abundantly satisfied for the sinnes of the whole world, and therefore was assured that God for his sake, according to his gracious promi­ses in him, would have mercy upon her.

Thus you have in part the goodly speeches, which passed from this religious Lady in the beginning of her sicknesse; all which was within the space of three or foure daies. Howsoever before that, and since also she ceased not to continue the same her fruitfull and comfortable communications, now and then sending forth most affectionate slighings [Page 54] to God, as a testimony of that hope and desire Anno 1567. she had in enjoying his presence; often uttering these words, O my God, in thy good time deliver me from this body of death, and from the miseries of this present life, that I may no more offend thee, and that I may attain to that felicity which thou in thy Word hast promised me.

Neither did she manifest her pious affection by these her words onely, but therewithall shewed a joyfull and resolute countenance, as the vehe­mency 10 of her sicknesse could beare: which gave suf­ficient proofe to all that beheld her, that the feare of death could not drive her from the stedfastnesse of her Faith.

When she had finished these her consolatory spéeches, they usually went to prayer; intreating the Lord that he would arme her with constant patience, and have mercy upon her. Which praier it shall not be altogether impertinent to insert in this place, serving as a forme of praier upon the 20 like occasion.

¶ An Introduction first into that which Anno 1572. leads to the death of the Admirall of France; Then, to the massacre at paris, and so in some other Cities.— 10

¶ Of a young man who preferred his Mo­thers safety in these broyls before his own.

A Young man about the age of two and thirty yeares, a sincere Christian, and excellently well learned above many of his age and time, go­ing early abroad this Sunday morning upon some speciall occasion, returning home, and perceiving what a strange rumor there was concerning the death of the Admirall throughout the City of Parts, he out of his singular and childelike affe­ction to his Mother, hastened to her with all possi­ble spéed, informing her what had happened, and so wrought for her, without delay, not regarding his owne safety, that he secured her in a place, as you would say, fitted for the purpose. After which himselfe being found alone shut up in his study at prayer, to which exercise he had long be­fore devoted himselfe; The furious Massacrers on that part of the City asked him if hée would obey the King, he answered, yes, but I must also obey God.

Then they began presently with battle axes and staves to load him with blowes on the head, that he received his owne bloud into his hands; and then making an end of him, they threw him into the river.

¶ Two Ministers massacred.

TWo Ministers appertaining to the King of Navarre, the one called More, the other Des­goris, fell also into the hand of these murtherers, who killing them, cast them into the water. I can­not learne, saith the historiographer, by report, that any moe Ministers were slaine at this time, then these two. At the writing hereof many were li­ving, who laboured in the worke of the Lord, in the Church of Paris, and were also miraculously preserved.

¶ Aninhumane Cruelty.

PHilip le Doux a great Ieweller, at his returne home from Guybray saire, being gone to bed, his wife at that time had the midwife atten­ding upon her, being ready to be delivered: shée hearing these furies below bouncing at the doore, commanding it to bée opened to them in the Kings name, as till as she was, adventured to goe downe, and opened the same to these tygers, who presently stabbed her husband in his bed. The midwife séeing them bent to murther the woman also, now ready to lie downe, instantly intreated them to tarry, at least so long till the infant (which would be the 20. Childe that God had given her) was borne. Having contested some while with them, they tooke this poore woman halfe dead with [Page 63] feare, and thrust her into the sundament with a dagger to the very hilts. She finding her selfe mortally wounded, and yet desirous to bring forth A barbarous cruelty. her fruit, fled into a corne-loft; whither they pur­sued her, giving her another stabbe into the belly with a dagger, and then cast her out of a window next to the stréete; upon which fall the childe came forth of her body, the head formost, gaping or yawning, to the great astonishment and confusion of the Papists, who were constrained often with 10 detestation to acknowledge and confesse the cruel­ties of their butchers.

¶ Behold here another.

ONE of the Massacrers having snatched up a Whatiron heart would not have been moved to com­passion here­with. little childe in his armes, the poore ba [...] be­gan to play with his beard, and to smile upon 20 him; but in stead of being moved to compassion therewith, this barbarous wretch wounded it with his dagger, and so cast it all on a gore blood into the river, so as it was a good while ere it could recover the own colour againe.

To procéed on further and fully to relate all the tragicall acts committed in this Massacre at Pa­ris, to set downe the thundrings of Guns and Pistols, the lamentable voices and outcries of the slaine, the roarings and horrible blasphemies bel­ched 30 forth by these Massacrers and devils incar­nate, were enough to cause the Paper whereon they should be described either to blush, or wéepe.

Not to stay the Reader therefore any longer in this, having many things of the like nature to present unto thy view, we will passe from the dolorous City of Paris to other cities in France, and set before thee as in a glasse a company of hor­rible and rufull spectacles. 40

¶ Massacres committed upon those of the Religion, at Meaux in Brie.

LEt us begin then with those of Meaux in Brie, which is not above a daies journey from Paris. 50

The poore Protestants in this City were de­stinated There was a roul [...] drawne where the massacre should begin, continus, and end. to drinke of this cup of Martyrdome af­ter their brethren and sisters in the aforesaid Ci­ty of Paris. Therefore on the same Sunday the foure and twentieth of August, about foure of the clocke in the afternoon, a post was sent to Meaux with letters, accompanied with a seditious fellow called le Froid. Being come thither, the Packet was presented to Monsleur Lovis Cosset, the This Cosset was then branded for notorious vil­lanies, and a misshapenfel­low. Kings Atturney there. Upon the receit whereof, 60 this Atturny hasted hither and thither in his own person to advertise such cut-throats (as had had their hands in the pillaging and robbing those of the religion in the first, second, and third troubles) with command, that they should be ready to come forth of their houses armed, at the stroke of seven of the clock, and then cause the gates instantly to be shut.

The time prefixed being come, which was about supper time, the gates were shut, and then 70 they began to execute their cruelties in sundry parts of the City. Thus was that night passed, not without uprores and strange events.

On the next day, which was Munday, about thrée of the clocke in the morning, these good Catholikes began to pillage the houses of the Protestants, of the best things they had, which continued till eight of the clocke, their trading li­ked them so well. But the principall of all the spotles were conveyed into the Court and house of this noble Atturney Cosset; yet these were on­ly the beginnings of sorrows.

For after robbing and spotling they fell to shut them up in prisons: which being filled, the mas­sacrers having Cosset for their Captaine (who usually carried in each hand a Pistoll ready to dis­charge) went into the said prison on Tuesday the six and twentieth of August, about five or six of the clock at night, with swords, daggers, and but­chers knives.

Nigh to this prison there was a great Court, enclosed on every side with walls and a very strong Gate. In a corner whereof is a large paire of winding staires, containing five and twenty, or thirty steppes, by which they goe up to the Iudgement Hall to the Seat of Iustice. Into this Court were the murderers assembled; which done, Cosset went up into his seat. Then they had a scroule or bill containing the names of the prisoners there imprisoned, who were called over one by one to the number of two hundred and upwards, as some of the murderers them­selves have since reported, when as they impu­dently made their brags of these their horrible im­pieties and injustices.

Then the Atturney laughing began to call for the first man named in the bill; who being brought forth, and séeing naked swords before him, falling downe and craving forgivenesse of his sins at the hands of God, was suddenly butchered by five or sixe.

One Quintin Croyer, an Eiver of the refor­med Church, being called forth, and séeing many of his companions massacred before his eyes, knée­led downe, praying God to pardon thesée murde­rers; at which prayer they fell a laughing, and not being able with their daggers to pierce a Ierkin of double Busse which he ware, and which they were loth to spoile, (for it was a good booty) they cut asun­der the points, and then gave him five or six ftabs with a dagger into his body; and so this good man wounded to death, calling upon God, rendered up his spirit into the hands of him that gave it.

Faron Haren, a man zealously asserted to reli­gion, who had béen Sheriffe of the City in the first troubles, having by his endeavours chased the Masse out of Meaux, for a time was mortally ha­ted of these seditious Papists; and therefore they were not contented simply to kill him, but first cut off his nose, eares, and secret parts, then gi­ving him many small thrusts into divers parts of the body, they constrained him to and fro among them, as if he had gone thorow the pikes. But be­ing weakened, and not able any longer to hold out, in regard of the blood that issued from all the parts of his body, he fell with his face to the ground, and instantly calling upon the name of the Lord, re­ceived infinite gashes and wounds after he was dead.

By this time it grew late; therefore these blood­suckers, having almost wearied themselves in worrying these poore lambes and shéep of Christ, deferred the execution of the rest till after supper, as well to take some breathing and refection, as also to murther the residue with the greater alacri­ty. For in as much as the blood of the slaine shi­ned yet upon the swords and armes of the mur­therers (their sléeves being tucked up) which some­thing hindered their procéeding; after they had drinke wine their still, they meant to returne and make themselves dranke with blood also; which that they might shed the more fréely, they tooke with them Butchers great axes wherewith they smite downe their Oxen, and in the presence of this honest Atturney felled these poore prisoners one after another; who called upon God, and cry­ing [Page 64] so loud for mercy, that all the City in a man­ner rung thereof. This massacre lasted from nine of the Clock at night till it was midnight. And for as much as there yet remained many priso­ners alive; they deferred this their bloody businesse till the next day.

But this may suffice to have béen said as tou­ching this massacre at Meaux in Brie; passe wée on now to the City of Troys in Champaigne, and there take notice, as it were by the way, what 10 cruelties were executed in that place.

¶ Persecution of the Faithfull at Troys in Champaigne.

NEwes comming to Troys of the Massacre executed at Paris, the greater part of the Iudges and Officers of the King were sent to the 20 Bailiffe of Troys, with commandement diligent­ly to make scarch for all those of the Religion, from house to house, and to imprison as many as they could méet withall.

In this city there was a Merchant called Pe­ter Belin, a man of a turbulent nature. This Belin was at the massacre in Paris on S. Bar­tholomews day; from whence he was sent with Letters from the King dated the eight and twen­tieth of August, to the Maior and Sheriffes of 30 Troys, to cause all these persecutions to cease, and the prisoners to be set at liberty. On the third of September he came to Troys with these two let­ters (which had béen first published in Paris) with commandement to deliver them to the fore­said Magistrates to be proclaimed there also.

But at the first entrance into the City, he be­gan to enquire, that all might heare him, whether they had not executed the Huguenots there as 40 they had done in Parts; which was his language thorow the stréets till he came home. But even some of the Papists, who were not so cruelly minded, demanded of Belin the contents of the K. letters, whereof they had some inkling before. But he, like a Bedlam swelling with choler, sware that whosoever said they contained any thing ten­ding to varification, lyed. Hasting therefore to the Bailiffes house at Troys, after he had deliver­ed him the packet, and buzzed somewhat in his 50 eare, he put him on to sée this execution done. Now that the same might passe the better for currant, the help of the Executioner of Troys was reque­sted, whose name was Charles.

Yet he shewing himself more just and humane than the rest, peremptorily refused to have his hand in an act tending to so great cruelty; answer­ing, that it was contrary to his office to execute any man before sentence of death had first béen pronounced by the Magistrate. If they had such 60 sentence to shew against any of the prisoners, he was ready to doe justice; otherwise he would not presume, without a warrant, to bereave any man of his life: and so with these words he returned home to his house.

Now albeit this answer, procéeding from such a kinde of person whose office and custome it was to shed blood, might somewhat have asswaged and taken off the edge of the most barbarous Ty­ger in the world; yet the Bailiffe sleighting it, was the further enraged. Upon this he sent for 70 one of the Iaylors of the prison who kept those of the religion; but he being sicke of a Tertian Ague, Martin de Bures was sent to know his pleasure.

The Bailiffe telling him at large what Belin had signified to him in private; as also, that on a sudden all the prisoners of the Religion must bée put to death, that so the place might be purged of them: This (he said) you must not faile to doe. But (said the Bailiffe) that the blood may not run into the stréets, you shall cause a trench to be digged in the middest of the prison; and at the two ends thereof set certaine vessels to receive the same.

But this de Bures for some considerations, as namely thinking the Kings Letters (whereof he had had some intelligence) might be proclauned, made no hast to performe his charge, acquainting no man with ought that had passed betwéene the Bafliffe and h [...]m; no not Perennet the Kéeper, who then lay sick in his bed.

The next day, being Tuesday, which was the fourth of September, the Bailiffe came into the prison about seven or eight of the Clock, and cal­ling for Perennet asked of him with a smile, Pe­rennet, is it done? Perennet, knowing nothing either more or lesse, asked of him what? Then saith the Bailiffe, Why, are not the Prisoners dispat­ched? and thereupon was ready with his dagger to have stabbed him. But comming a little better to himselfe, he told Perennet what his purpose was, and now he was to behave himselfe concern­ing the execution thereof; willing him by all meanes not to forget to make the said Trench. At which words this Perennet standing amased, though otherwise he was a fellow forward enough of himselfe to commit any outrages against the Protestants, certified the Bailiffe, that such an inhumane act could not be committed over to him, fearing lest in time to come Iustice might be fol­lowed against him by the Parents or Allyes of the Prisoners. No no, said the Bailiffe, feare not, I will stand betwéene you and all harmes. Others of the Iustices have consented thereto besides my selfe, and would you have better secu­rity than that?

Within a while after, the Iaylor comming in­to the court of the prison, where the prisoners were abroad recreating themselves, caused every one to resort to his cabbin or hole, because, said he, the Bailiffe will come by and by, to sée whether the Kéepers have done as he commanded them: which they did. Then began these poore shéep to feare they were destinated to the slaughter, and there­fore went presently to prayer. Perennet instant­ly called his companions about him, reporting to them what the Bailiffe had given him in charge. Then they all tooke an oath to execute the same; but approaching nigh to the Prisoners, they were so surprised with feare, and their hearts so failed them, that they stood gasing one upon another, having no courage to act such a barbarous cruelty: and so returned to the Iaylors lodge, whence they came, without doing any thing.

But in stead of laying this to heart, as an ad­vertisement and warning piece sent them from above; as if of set purpose they meant to resist against the checks of their owne consciences, and so kick against the prickes, they sent to the Ta­verne for sixtéene pints of the best wine, Troys measure, with shéepes tongues, and other viands, and intoxicating their braines with wine, they drew a list or Catalogue of all the prisoners; which they delivered to Nicholas Martin, one of their Confederates, who was to call them forth as he saw their names set downe in the scroule; and thus as they came forth they massacred them.

Ludot one of the prisoners, being called forth as his turne came, presented himselfe before them with a chéerefull countenance, calling upon the name of the Lord. Now as he was to receive the stroke of death from these desperate blood-spillers, he prayed them to forbeare him a little, till he had put off his doublet, being oiletted, which he was wont to put on when any tumult grew in the Ci­ty: and having himselfe unlaced it, presenting his [Page 65] naked breast unto them, he received the blow, and Anno 1569. fell downe dead.

But poore Meurs escaped not so good cheape; for his turne being come, he was no sooner in their sight, but one of them let drive at him with the point of his Halbert, redoubling the same oft to have killed him, yet could not. The poore man séeing himselfe thus dealt withall by the Caitiffe, and no end made, tooke hold with his hands on the point of the halbert, and himselfe pointing 10 him to the seat of the heart, cryed to the murde­rer with a stedfast voice, Here, souldier, here, right at the heart, right at the heart, and so finished this life.

Howsoever in this massacre these two formerly mentioned are for brevities sake only named, yet by that which immediatly followes you may per­ceive they were not a few who suffered in this tragedy.

The Massacre (saith my Author) being ended, 20 the murtherers made a great pit on the back side of the Chappell of the prison, whereinto they cast the bodies one upon another, some of them yet breathing. So as one called Maufere lying in the midst of them, was espied to raise up himselfe above his fellow Martyrs in this pit, upon whom they forthwith throwing earth (as was reported) stifled him, being but halfe dead. But because the order which the Bailiffe set downe was not ob­served, namely the making of a trench in the pri­son 30 to receive the blood which was shed, it ran in such abundance out at the prison doore, and thence through a channell into a river nigh thereto, that it was turned into the colour of blood. Which some of the Papists themselves taking notice of, being ignorant of the fact, were so terrified therewith, that they ran along the stréet, crying and pointing at every one they met withall to behold this horrible and lamentable a spectacle. Whereupon many hasting to the prison by this occasion, could conje­cture 40 no other but that the prisoners had slaine one another.

This was presently noised through the City, insomuch as some went to informe the lieutenant and bailiffe thereof. But what? it was as if they had run to the Wolves to tell them the Shéepe were devoured.

Whilest this so savage a cruelty was commit­ted in the prison, one Bartholmew Carlet a Coo­per, prisoner there for debt (who of all the troupe 50 of murtherers in Troys was one of the princi­pall) having in the former troubles exercised most notorious cruelties against those of the Religion, was called in by these massacrers to be one of their associates; who executed his part in so bloo­dy a manner, that (as himselfe afterwards often acknowledged) he with his owne hands slaughte­red thirty of these poore innocents: So far was he growne past shame or common honesty. But this his fact was so pleasing to certaine of the 60 Popish Religion at Troys, that for a recom­pence thereof they payed his debt, and set him frée out of prison; which was done (as the report went) by making a collection for him in certaine Parishes.

The next day after, which was the fifth of September, this worshipfull Bailiffe of Troys, that he might apply the plaister when the parties were dead, causes the Kings Letters, which he had received the thirtieth of the moneth of Au­gust 70 before going, to be published in all the cor­ners of the City with sound of Trumpet. The Bailiffe (as we have béen credibly informed) was present in person at the publication, and as the Notary read the contents thereof to him, he pro­nounced the same jéeringly, and not with a full and audible voice, as matters of such consequence ought to be read.

¶ Of the massacre at Orleance.

IT now remaines that we procéed unto the Ci­ty of Orleance, and to take notice whether the papists there were lesse cruell than those of Pa­ris. But, saith the Historian, when I call to mind what hath béen the report of those that were pre­sent at that time in Orleance, it causeth the haire to stand upright on my head. Yet for as much as it is convenient that posterities to come may be acquainted with the fury of these monsters in na­ture, we will commit that to writing whereof we have credibly béen informed.

On Saturday, the thrée and twentieth of Au­gust, Letters were sent from the King to Orle­ance, unto Sieur de la Renic President of Dii­on, to prevent all disorders, murthers, &c. With command, that he should advertise the Citizens, how the Admirall was hurt, as also to assure those of the religion, that ere long such justice should be executed on the actors, as all France should take warning thereby not to enterprise the like.

This was carefully performed by the said Sieur de la Renic the same day; who caused those of the best rank of both religions to be present at the pub­lishing of the Kings minde. The faithfull think­ing themselves secure, were quiet, and on the Sabbath day assembled in the place appointed for their méeting, to the number of 300. persons, men, women, and children.

But on the same day towards night came a new order to the Iustices, Maior, and Sheriffes of the said City, by which they were injoyned to be up in armes, and to gather to them what strength they could; with expresse charge to make havock of those of the Religion. To this purpose the Cap­taines of twelve companies were appointed to be the leaders to the rest, divided into eight and forty squadrons.

¶ The cruell massacre of Dechampeaux a worthy Counsellor in the City of Orle­ance, by a wretched Villaine his neigh­bour.

ONe of these blood-suckers called Texier came with a small troupe to a Counsellors house of Orleance, whose name was Dechampeaux Lord of Bonilli, bidding himselfe and his compa­ny to supper with him. Dechampeaux bid them all kindly welcome, making them good chéere, be­ing ignorant of that which had hapned at Paris. But supper being ended, and all of them being risen from the table, Texier bad him deliver his purse. Dechampeaux laughing thereat, thinking that he had béen but in jest, this cruell and un­thankfull guest with blasphemous oathes told in few words what had hapned in the City of Paris, and what preparation there was among the Ro­mane Catholiques of Orleance, to cut off and root out the Protestants there. Dechampeaux séeing there was no time now to contest with him, gave mony to this théefe: who, to requite the curtesie and good entertainment he had had, embrued his honds in the blood of his host and neighbour, a man A cruell and unthankfull guest. of as good and upright a carriage as was in all the City, and afterwards himselfe with his troupe pillaged the whole house.

The six and twentieth day of August following the massacrers began the execution about the ramparts, after such a strange manner; as hée that had but a sparke of humanity left in him, out [Page 66] of compassion would be moved to abhorre and de­test {Anno 1572.} it. In these quarters there inhabited many of the Religion. All the night long was heard no­thing but shooting off of Guns and Pistols, force­ing open of doores and windows, fearefull out­cryes of the massacred, both of men, women, and little children, trampling of horses, and rumbling of carts, hurrying of dead bodies to and fro; the stréete s [...]rarming with unwonted exclamations of those of the common sort, with horrible blasphe­mies 10 of the murderers, laughing their fill at their furious exploits; Some crying kill them So all must goe to wr [...]ck. all, and then take the spoile; others, spoile not, but kill all.

On Wednesday the massacre began more fiercely, and so continued to the end of the wéeke, These were miserable comforters. not sparing to breake these and the like jests upon the poore massacred: Where is now your God? What is become of all your prayers, and Psalmes now? Let your God, whom you called upon, save 20 you if he can. Yea some of them, who in times past had béen professors of the same Religion, whilest they were massacring the poore innocents; durst sing unto them in scorne the beginning of the thrée and fortieth psalm: Which in the French méeter runs, Revenge moy pren le quarrelle de moy, Iudge me O God, and plead my cause. Others striking them said, sing now, Miserecorde aupaure vicieux, Have mercy on me O God, which language they used to this poore people in Paris, 30 and elsewhere. But these execrable outrages no way daunted the courage of the faithfull from dy­ing stedfast in the faith.

Touching the multitude of the slaine, the mur­therers did not sticke to vaunt that in this City they caused more than twelve thousand men to perish: Also an hundred and fifty women, with a great number of Children of nine yeare old and upward. But as some of themselves have since reported, there were eightéen thousand murdered, 40 besides women and children. The manner of their death was, first to sheet them with Pistols, then to strip them of their clothes, and either drowning or else burying the dead bodies in pits, namely such as dwelt about the wals. They were armed also with knives and ponyards: in like manner with Iaveling and partizans, wherewith they murdered these poore, méeke, and harmlesse creatures.

On Tuesday at night certaine of this bloody crue came and knocked at the doore of one that 50 was a Doctor of the Civill Law, called Taille­bous; who opening a Casement, and under­standing that they had somewhat to say to him, came downe immediatly, and opened the same unto them. At the first gréeting they told him he The f [...]rce of servent prayer must die. Whereupon he fell to prayer, and that with such constancy and affection, that the massa­crers being astonished, and by a secret celestiall power restratned, contented themselves onely 60 with taking his purse, in which there were fiftéen Crownes, and so left him, offering him no more violence.

The day following certaine Schollers resorting to his lodging, requested of him that they might sée his Library, into which having brought them, one asked this booke of him, and another another, the which he willingly gave them. At length they told him they were not as yet satisfied, their pur­pose being to kill him. He prostrating himselfe up­on 70 the ground, and having ended his prayer, willed them to kill him there. But they forced him out of his owne house, whence he went on with an undaunted courage, till in the way he lighted on the body of a certain Shoomaker, newly wound­ed, lying gasping for breath. At which sight start­ing back as one somewhat appaled, he prayed them to kill him there; yet they would not, but con­strained him to passe on forward. Being come to the Schooles of the Civill Law, at least, said he, let me die before this place, where I have taught so long. But they furiously repulsing him, more than before, made him goe further with them, where at len [...]th they knocked him downe.

A rich Burgesse of the City called Nicholas Bougars Sieur de Nove, a man of singular worth, and highly estéemed of all, was at that time deadly sick. Some of the murtherers came into his Chamber with a purpose to kill him; but séeing him in that case spared him: yet finding there Noel Chaperon, an Apothecary who brought him Physick, they cut off one of his armes, then drew him into the open place, where they made an end of him.

The next day there came one to the lodging of him that was sick, who was wont heretofore to visit him. Nowas he was entring in, he met the mother of the sick party at the doore going unto Masse, and comming up into the Chamber he stabbed the said sick man with a dagger in many places, and so killed a dying man. Then with all sil [...]nce, as if he had done no such act, wiping his dagger, he went down the staires again, and méet­ing one at the doore who came to visit him that was sick, this fellow saluting him passed along by him, without any change either in his behaviour or countenance.

A Cooke, having hid himself thrée whole daies, was inforced for hunger to come forth, for lack of meat. But whilest he went about to escape one death, he fell into the talents of these Lions, who devoured him, and that forthwith.

Francis Stample a rich M [...]rchant was threa­tened to have his throat cut presently, if he gave not the murderers money: but having none about him, being taken by them out of his house, calling for pen and inke he wrote a letter to his wife, wil­ling her forthwith to send him his ransome: he had no sooner sealed the letter, but the murderers deprired him thereof and his life together, laugh­ing at that they had done. And though they got from his widdow a round sum [...]ne of money, yet could she not obtaine at their hands the body of her dead husband.

But to fill up the measure of the popelings cru­elty, that those of the religion might taste thereof to the utmost, the Papists were not content to be massacrers themselves, but constrained such of the Protestants as through feare had revolted, to play the murderers also. Thus placing these wic­ked revolters into the forefront of their companies, and arming them with weapons fit for the pur­pose, they pressed them to march on before, and to give the first onset, crying to them, Smile them, smite them; are they not of your brethren and ho­ly sisters? And if they refused to doe as they were commanded, their turnes were like to be next.

¶ The Massacres committed at Bourges and la Chanite, are the rather passedover in silence, because the history requires at this time to touch only upon such things as are most remarkable, and shall after follow.

YEt one thing ought not to be forgotten which fell out in the City last mentioned. There was [...]re Iohn Sarrazin of the age of seventy yeares and above, who for a long time had exercised the [Page 67] office of a Deacon in the reformed Church; the which he so faithfully performed, that he was estée­med a father of the poore. This good old father was set upon on Tuesday night in his owne house the fourth of September, 1572. and laid at with swords by these furious murtherers: who with a venerable and smiling countenance looking upon them, said, my friends, what will ye doe with me? have I ever offended any of you? And if I have, let him speake. But nothing could any whit pre­vaile 10 with these savage monsters to mollifie their stony hearts. For with a more then brutish rage they fell upon this gray head and poore withered carkasse, who to fence off the blowes exept under his bed, where one of these rakehels, his next neigh­bour and Godson, gave him such a thrust in with his sword into the belly, that his bowels issued out.

The poore man séeing himselfe thus wounded, and perceiving who had done it, said, Ah Godson, doe you use me thus? I never hurt you, but have 20 done you good. He languished of this hurt two daies & two nights: during which time, as we have learned from his wife, who gave her attendance on him all the while, he ceased not with great zeale to call upon God, thinking himselfe happy to have suffered that outrage for his name, and so not long after yéelded up his spirit, into the hands of God that gave it.

¶ The horrible Massacre of the faithfull 30 at Lyons in France.

ON Wednesday the seven and twentieth of August in the yeare 1572. about sixe of the clocke in the morning, Sieur Mandolet governour of Lyons was advertised of the Massacre at Pa­ris; and within an houre and an halfe after, a soul­dier passing through the stréets made it knowne to the people, that the Admirall, and all the Prote­stant 40 Princes were slain. By and by the gates of Huguenots he called them. the City were shut, and guards of souldiers placed here and there.

But lest those of the Religion should be moved with such an unwonted and an unexpected shut­ting in of the gates (as in the time of open warre) the Roman Catholiques caused it to be bruited that all was done to secure the Protestants, To which report some gave too much credit (for beside the ordinary guard of the governour, and that of 50 the Citadell, with the thrée hundred harquebusiers of the City, which amounted to about a thousand) there were gathered to them many besides of the City with armes likewise; with command that if they descried any troupe of those of the Religion comming abroad, though but with their swords guirt unto them, forthwith to cut them off with the rest also. But they, having enured themselves to an incredible modesty and patience, gave not the least appearance of defending themselves, séeing a 60 tempest now nigh at hand; which they knew could not arise without a speciall providence of God.

The day following, notwithstanding all these faire shewes, they evidently perceived that their lives were at the mercy of the Papists, who had sucked the bloud of many of them in the first trou­bles. For albeit they found no more passage for them out of the City then they did the day prece­dent, they might not now either fréely goe out or 70 come in upon their necessary occasions: if they presented themselves in the stréets, they were clapt up in prison; for which cause they were fain to kéep their houses. Night being come, they made a prioy search in their dwelling houses; some they rifled, others were ransomed, and the rest imprisoned. Many of them never comming thither, were ei­ther killed in the corners of the stréetes with dag­gers, or else cast into the river; whereof some (who were living when this History was in writing) were saved by swimming, being carried down with the current of the streame, halfe a mile beneath the City.

On Friday after there was a Proclamation with sound of trumpets in all the chiefe places of the City, the summe of which was this, that those of the Religion were to appeare before the gover­nour at his house, there to be informed what the Kings pleasure was concerning them. The grea­ter part, being but too credulous, feared not to make their appearance at the place assigned, whence soone after they were committed to sundry prisons. The night following there were heard from all parts of the City lamentable cries and shréekings, not onely of such as were massacred in their houses, but of others halfe wounded to death whom they haled to the river.

From that time forwards there were such mur­thers and outrages committed, throughout the Ci­ty, that it séemed hell was set open, and that De­vils in the likenesse of men comming forth thence ran roring to and fro in the stréets.

On Sunday which was the last of this moneth of August, about eight of the clock in the morning, the rest, who were left unmassacred the Fryday before, were made an end of then.

About one of the clocke the same day, com­mandement was given, that under every Anci­ent twenty five armed men with twelve Porters should be gathered to conduct them to Saint Georges gate, which is by the Archbishops house, in which were more then thrée hundred and fifty prisoners; in which place the great Massacre was to bee executed. The [...]eyes of the Archbishops house, wherein so many prisoners were inclosed, were delivered unto this bloudy crue; who joyfully offered themselves to performe so horrible a busi­nesse; The which the ordinary executioner refused, and common Souldiers abhorred to undertake, when the same was first propounded unto them; they answering peremptorily they would never doe it.

The first alleadged, that if according to the course of Iustice sentence of death had béen de­nounced against them, he knew what he had to doe; but for this their purpose he told them he thought they might have but too many executio­ners in the City to satisfie their desire. The soul­diers answered, they thought it more then inhu­mane, to cut the throats of such as never offended them. But if the prisoners had made any Insur­rection or sedition in the City, they then might have some colour of reason to doe it; otherwise they meant not to staine the honor of their profes­sion (which is accompanied with noblenesse of spi­rit) with so villanous an act, more besitting butch­ers then souldiers.

But Mandelot and his accomplices were not so scrupulous; for within thrée houres after, Clou Captaine of the Harquebusters of the City came with an enraged troupe, &c. the greater part wher­of were furnished with short swords and hangers.

As soone as Le Clou entred into the great Court, he gave the prisoners to understand with a loud voice, that they must die; and turning him towards his slaughter men, he said, on, on, goe in, and to your worke: but first he forgat not to de­mand the prisoners purses for his booty, which when he pocketted up, he gat him into a Gallery there, to satisfie his hellish lust in taking a view of this rufull spectacle.

The murtherers hegan to fall upon the poore prisoners with such barbarous cruelty, hacking, and hewing them, in so furious a manner, that within lesse than an houre they were all cut in [Page 68] pieces, not so much as one escaped their hands. All these for the most part were massacred knéeling on their knées, and lifting up their eies and hands to God for mercy, whilst they had their hands and fingers cut off.

¶ The death and martyrdome of Francis le Bossu, a merchant, together with his sons. 10

AMong all those who confessed rhe name of Ie­sus Christ, and gave their lives for his truth, a certaine Merchant of hats and caps called Francis le Bossu well deserves to be set in the fore ranke, with his two sonnes; for whilest he trampled in the bloud of his brethren, being be­smeared therewith, and spiriting as it were in his face; he encouraged his children to take their 20 death willingly and patiently: using this spéech, Children, we are not to learne now, that it hath alwaies béen the portion of Beléevers, to bee ha­ted, cruelly used, and devoured by Vnbeléevers; as Christs silly Shéep of ravening wolves: if wee suffer with Christ we shall also reigne with him. Let not these drawne swords terrifie us, they will be but as a bridge whereby we shall passe over out of a miserable life, into immortall blessednesse. We have breathed and lived long enough among 30 the wicked, let us now goe and live with our God: let us joyfully march after this great company which is here gon before us, and let us make way for them that shall follow after.

When he saw the murtherers come, he clasped his armes about his two sonnes, and they like­wise embraced their father, as if the father meant to be a buckler to his children, and the children as if by the bond of nature (which binds them to de­fend his life from whence they received it) they 40 meant to ward off the blowes which were com­ming towards their father, though with the losse of their owne lives: who when the massacre was ended were all thrée found dead, thus embracing one another.

Now after this furious assault, these impudent creatures went up and downe the City, shewing their white doublets all besprinkled with bloud; boasting, that some had killed an hundred, some more, some lesse. Forthwith the great gates of 50 the Archbishops house were set wide open for all commers; of whom surely there was none (were they of the devoutest Romanists) but must néeds have their hearts wounded and pierced within them, to sée so hideous a slaughter. And indéed some of them were heard to say, when they beheld The Papists abhorre their own cruelties this so inhumane and cruell an act, That certainly they were not men, but devils in the habit of men, that had done this.

The next morning which was Munday, the first of September, the remainder of corpses, which were not cast into the water, were put into great 60 boats, which being rowed over to the other side of the river of Saon, were all cast on shore there; the corpses being also spread upon the ground nigh to the Abbey of Esnay like dung upon the earth. The Monkes would at no hand yéeld to have them bu­ried in their Churchyard, estéeming them unwor­thy of buriall; fearing also, that so many put to­gether would be a meanes to infect the aire, and 70 therefore gave them a signe to have them throwne into the river.

Now as the multitude were dragging them in thither, an Apothecary came and informed them, that money might be made of the grease that was taken out of their bodies. Then were the most corpulent bodies presently sought out, which when they had ripped up, a great quantity of that commodity being gotten thence, was sold by these Merchants for thrée shillings the pound. And then not knowing how to wrecke their malice any fur­ther upon them, after many derisions and scornes which the standers by, but especially the Italians, had done to these poore despised carkasses, they were tumbled into a great pit, and the rest thrown into the river.

Those of Daulphine, of Languedoc, and Pro­vence were amased to sée so many bodies floating upon the water, some dismembred, others fastned together with long poles, others lying on the shore, some having their eies put out, others their noses, eares, and hands cut off, stabbed in with daggers in every part of their bodies, so as some among them had no humane shape remaining. Yea, so great a number of these mangled corpses presented themselves on the port of Tournon, that the men and women of the place began to make an outcry, as if the enemies had bin at their gates.

Not many moneths after, when all these bloudy Tragedies were ended, the Pope sent a Legate to the King, called Cardinall Vrsin. This Legat was received with great solemnity at Lyons, and the stréets hung with tapestry. Now having heard masse at Saint Iohns Church, and retur­ning by the same dore which he went in at, the greatest number of the massacrers attended his comming there, and as he passed by they all knée­led downe for his absolution. But the Legate not knowing the reason why they knéeled so before him, one of the principall agents knéeling there amongst them, told the Legat that they were those The massa­crers absolved by the Popes Legat. who had béen the actors in the massacre. When the [...]legate perceived that to be the cause, he ab­solved them all with making the signe of the Crosse.

¶ Persecution at Angiers in France. ¶ Master Iohn Mason, a learned Minister, together with his wife and some others, Martyrs.

AS soone as the massacre was begun at Paris, A Protestant minister mur­chered in his garden. a Gentleman of Paris called Monsoreau obtained a Pasport with letters to massacre those of the Religion at Anglers, Who, being disappoin­ted of his prey in one place, came to the lodging of a reverend and learned Minister called Master Iohn Mason, sirnamed de Launay, Sieur of Ri­viere. Méeting his wife at his entrance into the house, he saluted her and kist her, as it is the man­ner in France, especially among the Courtiers, and asked her where her husband was? She an­swered him, that he was walking in his garden, and then directed him the way unto him.

Monsoreau having lovingly embraced La Ri­viere, said unto him, Doe you know wherefore I am come? the King hath commanded me to kill you forthwith, and hath given me expresse charge to doe it, as you shall know by his letters. After which words he shewed him a pistoll ready char­ged. Riviere reylyed, that hee knew not wherein he had offended the King; but séeing, saith he, you séeke my life, give me a little leave to cry to God for mercy, and to recommend my spirit into his hands.

Having made a short prayer, he willingly pre­sented his body to the murtherer, who shot him in with his pistoll, and so he died by and by.

Not long after the King sent Puygaillard, who drowned nine or ten, and amongst other the wife of this Minister de la Riviere above named, who [Page 69] expressed a singular constancy of faith even to her last breath.

This Minister and Martyr formerly mentio­ned, sirnamed Launay, was the eldest son of Sieur de Launay, a man excéeding rich and wealthy, but an obstinate Papist. When as the old man obser­ved how his son was inclined to be a professor of the Gospell, he threatened to dismherit him unlesse he would abjure, promising on the contrary to bestow great matters upon him, and to marry him honora­bly, 10 if he would be ruled by him. All which his son refusing, his fathers love began to be turned into hatred; insomuch that the young man was forced to fly to Paris, where in time he was called to bee a Minister of the first reformed Church planted in that City, under the raigne of King Henry the second; from which reformed Church other Chur­ches in divers Cities in France fetched their light. 20

¶ Persecution at Rovan.

WHen the Massacrers began to play their parts in this City, they counselled those of the religion to get themselves into the prisons, as into places of greatest security from the fury and rage of the people. But such as followed this ad­vice, 30 were there even ready to be devoured, as poore Shéep, by these gréedy wolves at their pleasure.

Those who were murthered in the city in a few Six thou­sand massa­cred in few dayes at the city of Rovan dayes, some in their houses, and others in the pri­sons, amounted to six thousand, besides more than fifty women, upon whom they exercised no lesse cru­elty than upon men.

Their names for brevities sake are here omit­ted. The dead bodies being piled together were conveyed in tumbrils out of City, and throwne 40 by heaps one upon another into great pits digged for that purpose. Their garments being washed in the river from their bloud, by certaine poore wo­men, were afterwards distributed here and there to the poore by the Papists, that they might séeme with their unjust cruelty to mingle some workes of justice and charity.

¶ A Note touching the shamefull revolt 50 of a Minister called Du Rosier, with the event of it.

WIthin a mile of Paris there is a place where those of the Religion, which dwelt thereabouts, were wont to assemble to heare Ser­mons, and to participate of the Sacraments. Over this flocke was Huges Sureau (called Du 60 Rosier) placed as overseer.

Being in times past Minister at Orleance, he was discharged from thence, as one of a contenti­ous spirit, and given to affect novelties.

In processe of time he came to be established the Minister of this foresaid Church nigh unto Paris.

Hearing newes of the Massacre, hée fled with the rest for company. Being apprehended, he began to waver, perswading many prisoners 70 to revol [...] as he had done; which caused him after­wards, if his repentance was sound, to utter these words in a booke which I have, wherein hée bit­térly lamented his wofull fall. The murtherers, saith he, by their cruell hands murthered mens bodies, whilst their souls escaped safe; but I by my perswasions have béen a killer of soules, in tur­ning them from the truth which before they pro­fessed.

The Iudge who had him in bonds sent letters presently to Paris, to give notice of his apprehensi­on, as also of some apparent signes which gave him hope of the Ministers conversion.

The King by and by sent for him; who being brought into his presence, subscribed instantly to an abjuration with detestation of the Huguenots profession, before the King of Navarre and the Prince of Conde, maintained the Romish Reli­gion, consented therto with the Sorbonists at that time there present; against whom a few yeares be­fore he had learnedly defended the truth.

In this abjuration he endeavoured to confute many articles which were maintained by Calvin and Beza against the Romish Religion. In these disputes, this Minister being of a prompt wit, and having ability to expresse himselfe well, handled the matter so cunningly, that the King of Navarre, the Princesse his sister, and the Princesse of Conde so far yéelded, that within five or six dayes after they went to masse, and received absolution of the Car­dinall of Bourbon.

The points about which this Roster disputed were these, First, concerning the markes of the Church; Secondly, of the Trinity of Persons; Thirdly, of the Incarnation of Iesus Christ; Fourthly, of Christs descent into hell; Fifthly, of originall sinne; Sixthly, of the providence of God; Seventhly, of predestination and reprobation; Eightly, of mans frée will, Ninthly, of Iustificati­on; Tenthly, of succession; Eleventhly, of intercessi­on of Saints; Twelfthly, of the sacrifice of the masse; and lastly of Transubstantiation. The Sorbonists caused this confession to be printed, to which the Ministers of the reformed Religion would not vouchsafe an answer, knowing that hée who made it did it contrary to his own conscience, adding nothing thereto which had not béen confu­ted a thousand times.

All this upon his repentance he afterwards revoked, as is to be séene by his booke printed here in London in the French tongue, in the yere 1573, which confession of his contrary to his abjuration I have in my custody.

Now touching the Prince of Conde, the King propounded to him thrée things, either to goe to masse, to die, or else perpetuall prison: and therefore to bethink himselfe well which of the thrée he liked best. The Prince answered as it is reported, That by Gods grace he would never chuse the first: as for the two later he referred himselfe to the Kings pleasure.

¶ A massacre at Tholouse in France.

ON Sunday which was the eight day after the massacre of Paris, about eight of the clocke in the morning, the chiefe of the Papists received advertisement of that which had passed, with let­ters directing them what they were to doe. Then a Councell was called, at the breaking up where­of the great gates of the City were shut, only the wickets left open, at which there was set such to watch as they thought fitting. Soone after it was noysed through all the City, that the Lords and Gentlemen of the Religion were massacred at Paris. Which the Protestants at Tholouse nothing, being gone forth about five of the clocke in the morning to heare the Sermon at Castanet, some thought it fit not to returne, but to resort to some other place: others resolved to goe backe againe, that they might take order about their af­faires. These, being ill advised, were suffered to enter in peaceably, leaving their swords and dag­gers [Page 70] at the gate. At evening souldiers were pla­ced Anno 1527. here & there; but in regard many Counsellors of the Religion were abroad (that they might the better entrap them) the next day the gates were not so carefully looked unto, but who would might come in, and goe out at their leisure, without being questioned at all. This who done to draw in the simple people who wandred up and downe the fields. The first president called Dasis, a sub­tle headed man, sent to the Counsellors abroad 10 to come in, promising them their safety upon his word, shewing that their absence did but in­cense the Inhabitants of Tholouse the more against them. It was granted indéed, that there had been a Massacre at Paris, but that was up­on some private quarrell, so as the King was not minded for that to breake his edict of pacifi­cation.

Some of them were perswaded and returned; others casting some perill resolved to retire to 20 Mountauban, Realmont, and elsewhere. On Tuesday following, that they might hold them whom they had gotten within the Walls, and draw in such as yet kept themselves without, they caused it to be published with sound of trum­pets; that the Kings will was that none of the religion should be molested, but respectively used. The presidents with sundry others were present at this Proclamation, accompanied with a guard of souldiers, which caused many of the Religion, 30 especially the Counsellors, to suspect some treche­ry; who therefore hastened to the first president to know what these things meant. He answered, it was onely to restralue the people from making a tumult. But perceiving that they could not by their cunning catch the birds who kept aloose off, they wrecked their malice upon those they had in their hands.

On Wednesday next then, about ten of the clocke in the morning, having separated their 40 Troupes into divers quarters, they caused them to enter into the houses of those of the Religion, whom they imprisoned in sundry prisons of the City. This businesse held them all that Wednes­day. The guard was doubled at the gates, and one of the Parliament, with a Merchant that was a Papist, deputed as commanders at the said gates, to examine all such as went out, and to put backe such as meant to escape. There was also a charge given, that none should dare to con­ceale 50 any of the said Religion, as they would an­swer to the contrary. By meanes whereof ma­ny being discovered, were imprisoned. Among which were five or six Counsellors, men excellent­ly learned, who comforted the rest. Thus were they detained thrée wéeks. In the meane while the Massacrers set upon the neighbour Cities.

The thrée wéeks being expired, they put all these prisoners together into the Consciergery, which is a speciall prison. After which they began 60 to manifest themselves: for the reason why they had deferred the slaughter of them so long, was, that they might obtaine authority from Paris; the which was brought them by their Deputies, whose names were Delpech and Madron, rich Merchants of the City. These came with a war­rant from the King, that if the Massacre was not finished then they should not deferre any longer to put his will in execution. To which they shewed themselves but too forward and ready.

On Saturday morning before the Summe was up, certaine schollers who were night walkers, 70 with other lewd fellowed to the number of seven or eight, [...] with [...] and [...], entred into the said Consciergery, and causing the prisoners, to be called down one after another, they massacred them beneath at the staires fast of the Consciergery, not permiting them so much much leisure as to speake, much lesse to pray. It was thought that they massacred to the number of thrée hundred: afterwards spoiling them of all they had, stripping them out of their cloathes and shirts, and leaving them naked, their secret parts Three hun­dred massa­cred in the City of Tho­louse in France. being onely covered with a piece of paper. They were exposed to the view of all for the spare of two daies; whilest they digged great pits, whereinto the corpses thus cruelly massacred were cast na­ked one upon another. The Counsellors whom they had imprisoned, after they were massacred, were hanged in their long [...]ones upon a great Elme which was in the Court of the Palace; and in the meane while the houses of those of the Re­ligion were sacked and pillaged.

Many among these, by reason of the barbarous cruelties used against their Brethren, adjured dai­ly. Now because the Sorbonists provided a forme of abjuration to that purpose, for saving the lives of such as recanted, it shall not be impertinent to insert the same in this place; it being imprinted at Paris by Nicholas Roffet.

The abjured minding to returne into the lap of our holy Mother the Roman Church, must pre­sent themselves first to their Parsons or Curats, to be directed by them what they ought to doe. Af­terward to be sent thence to their reverend Bi­shop and Diocesan, or his Officiall, to pronounce the said adjuration in manner and forme follow­ing.

Persecution at Boardeaux the third of October, 1572.

Soone after the massacre at Paris, tidings 30 thereof came to Bourdeaux. Where it happen­ed on a morning as the Protestants were ta­king boat to heare a Sermon in a meadow where they were wont to meet, being about three miles from Bourdeaux, betweene the river of Garonna and the brooke of la Jalla, that the Governour Mountferrand commanded them to come backe again. He had the shift to cloake the same under a plausble pretence, namely, that they should not be set upon there by the multitude.

40 After their returne they began to set a strong watch and ward at the gates, so as none of the re­ligion could have leave to passe forth, unlesse he had a passeport from the Governour; yet meanes was made for their Ministers escape without be­ing perceived; who went to Medo [...], expecting what the event of this businesse at Bourdeaux would be. Having intelligence of what was executed there, they staid certaine daies and nights, hiding themselves in the rocks and marshes, untill they had opportunity to take shipping and so saile into England.

Instantly thereupon there arrived at Bourde­aux the Lord of Montpesat from the King, who at his first comming fained as if he meant to settle all things in peace. Yet he wrought under hand in such wise with the Governour, that the massa­cre was resolved of, to which he was sollicited by a Jesuite called Edmund Angier, who out of the pulpit used horribly and bitterly to thunder and 60 inveigh against the remisnesse and faint-hearted­nesse of the said Governour. Insomuch as on S. Michaels day (as they called it) speaking of the Angels by whom God executes his iudgements, he cryed out by way of Interrogation, Who exe­cuted Gods iudgements [...] the Hugenots in Paris? The Angell of God. Who hath executed the like upon other Cities in this Kingdome? The Angell of God. In a word, he never ceased in publique and pri [...]ate to sollicite the Papists of 70 Bourdeaux to follow the example of the Parisi­ans. And then as a croking Raven day by day he th [...]ted those of the religion with the approaching of an utter ruine and desolation if they did not be­times returne into the bosome of the Romane Church, which offer if they [...] refuse [...], they should not be received in when they would.

Many being terrified with these threates, as al­so by the intreaties of their kindred, who set be­fore [Page 72] fore them the imminent danger which hung over Anno 1572. their heads, revolted and abjured. The said Sieur of Montpasset caused Master William Blanck, an Advocate in the Court of Parliament, to be called before him, who was counsellor to him and to his father in law; exhorting and perswading him to returne to the unity of the Romane church.

Le Blanck answered, that he had sufficiently weighed and compared all things together, before he tooke upon him the profession of that Religion 10 which he now professed; which he said was the true religion, acknowledging the same in every respect far to excéed the other.

Montpessat hearing this, rebuked him sharply; saying, that then he thought himselfe wiser than the King and all those that professed as his Maje­stie did. Insomuch as they who stood about Le Blanck began to handle him roughly; so that hée had much adoe to escape with his life, had not Montpessat rescued him from that danger, because 20 he was come thither upon his word. The Go­vernour said, if he had béen there he would have slaine him.

The Governour, being pressed to dispatch this massacre at Bourdeaur, wist not well what to do. For on the one side La Sieur de Vesins, with sundry others comming from the Court, assured him from the King, that he wondred why the bu­sinesse was deferred so long; shewing, that he could not performe a more acceptable service unto 30 him than it. On the other side Strossi, who ho­vered about Rochel to take it, wished him to be well advised what he did, what command soever he had to the contrary: Foreséeing belike, that if he went forward with this execution, the Ro­chellers would have had the said Strossi in such a jealousie, that his project would have béen defeat­ed, and so would be no small prejudice to the Kings affaires; putting him in hope, that he would stand betwéen him and all perils. 40

For the truth is, the army by sea, which was prepared against Rochel, lying for a time at Bur­deaux, under pretence of conquering Florida, would have béen ready enough to have made a generall massacre there, but that they were afraid the Rochellers would be incensed thereat.

Yet in conclusion the Governour, having bal­lanced things on both parts, was perswaded by the Sieur Montpessat to put the massacre in exe­cution. To which purpose an oath being taken, a 50 catalogue was made of such as they meant to spoile.

On Saturday then, which was the third of October, 1572. the Governour having assembled together all the scum of the City to aide and assist him in so barbarous an act, commanded them with other souldiers to be ready presently after dinner to put the Kings command into execution. To which they were very forward, comming in their Liveries, attended on by Captaines of tens, to 60 direct them touching that they had to do. The grea­ter part of the massacrers had red hats given them by Peter Estounach, and for the blood wher­with they dyed their armes, they were called the Red Band: others called them the Cardinalls Band. The Governor commanded them to kil all those of the Religion, especially such as had taken armes, and not to spare one. And himselfe inten­ding to shew them the way, went to the house of Master Iohn Guilloch, Lord of Obiere, counsel­lor 70 in the Court of Parliament, to execute the hatred he had long since conceived against him: who being about to escape away out at a backe doore, they caught and brought him into the outer court before his house, in the presence of the Go­vernour, who with a short sword massacred him; which done, his house was wholly pillaged.

At that time they brought a certaine Minister out of the Consciergery, who a few daies before comming from the country Saintong to Bour­deaux (for his better safety as he thought) was there apprehended and imprisoned: and as soon as he was come out of the prison they massacred him before the gates of the Palace.

Master William Savins house (a Counsellor of the said Parliament, who was one of the Reli­gion) was forced open, pillaged and spoiled, and himselfe cruelly murthered. His Clarke called Simonet, séeing his master about to be massacred, embraced and comforted him: and being asked whether he were of the Religion, he answered yea, and would die with his master for the same. Thus they were slaine one in anothers armes.

The cruell Martyrdome of Du Tour, a Deacon of the Protestant Church.

A Deacon of the reformed Church called Du Tour, an old man, who in the daies of his ignorance had béene a Priest in the popish church, being sick in his bed, was haled forth into the open stréet; of whom it being demanded, whether he would go to Masse, and thereby save his life; he fréely answered, No, especially now drawing so néere his end, both in regard of his yeares and gréevous sicknesse: I hope (saith he) I shall not so far forget the eternall salvation of my soule, as for feare of death to prolong this life for a few dayes; for so I should buy a short terme of life at too déere a rate. They hearing him say so, massa­cred him instantly.

It was lamentable to sée the poore Protestants wandring up and downe, not knowing where to save their lives: some were rejected of their owne parents and kinsfolkes, who shut their doores against them, pretending as if they knew them not; others were betrayed and delivered up by those to whose trust they had committed them­selves: many were saved even by Priests and others, from whom a man would have expected no such security. Some were saved by their very ene­mies, whose hearts abhorred such detestable out­rages.

All the City was full of terrors and horrible threats against those of the Religion, saying, that the Kings commandement was, that he would not have so much as one of them left in his King­dome. And if any refused to goe to Masse, that an hole should be digged for him in the earth, in which he should forthwith be buried without any more adoe.

Scoffing Ballads sung in contempt of the Admirall of Chastillon and other Prote­stants.

NEare the Palace and thorowout the City were defamatory Libels sung against the Admirall of Chastillon and the Huguenots. In which regard, such in whose hearts God had reser­ved but any sparkle of piety, were so terrified and vexed with their blasphemies, that the condition of the massacred séemed to be much better than theirs who were left alive; who heard and saw those things without ceasing, which to an honest minde was more bitter then death it selfe.

The Governor was very carefull after the mas­sacre was ended, to advertise the Sieur Montpes­sat, by a Gentleman, of all things which had pas­sed, according to the promise he had made unto him. Which Montpessat was suddenly surprised [Page 73] with a disease; wherein féeling Gods hand heavy Anno 1573. Montpesat suddenly sur­prised with a strange dis­ease. upon him, he uttered such lamentable outcries, that his bloud and soule were poured out at once, a judgement justly inflicted upon him, for all the innocent bloud the which he had shed without a cause.

The judgement of God upon one Vin­cent. 10

THe like judgement of God fell not long after upon another of these massacrers called Vm­cent, Advocate of the Court, one who had had his hand déepely dyed in this bloudy enterprise, not sticking to boast that with his own hands hee had murthered Agraulet doore kéeper of the Court. This man also fell dangerously sick, but in the end 20 recovering againe, and as he thought being in good health, he told some of his friends that hée felt his armes strong enough to handle his Coutle­are or short sword as well as ever he had done. But within a while after he was overtaken by the hand of God, with such a flux of bléeding at his nose, as could not be restrained nor diverted by any of the remedies that were then used. It was an hi­deous sight to sée him still bowing his head over a basonfull of bloud, which without ceasing issued 30 out of his nose and mouth.

This bloudy wretch then, who breathed forth Vincent dies drenched in his owne bloud. nothing but bloud in the time of his health, nor could have his eyes satisfied with séeing the bloud of innocents poured out, was forced whilest he li­ved to sée himselfe drenched in his own bloud, even untill his last gaspe.

Another of them, thirsting after bloud as much Another of this wretched crew swelled so long that he burst in sunder. God meets with the Go­vernor himself at length. as any of the rest, was taken with such a swelling in all the parts of his body, that there was scarcely 40 to be discerned in him the forme of a man, and so continued swelling more and more, till at the length he burst in sunder.

The Governour himselfe who was the chiefe actor in this massacre, about two yeares after gathering all the forces he could to besiege Gen­ses, with an intention to doe wonders there, pre­senting himselfe ready for the purpose, was cho­sen to goe in the ranke of five and twenty or thirty brave Gentlemen, and he onely shot with an har­quebuse 50 dyed. The rest by and by retiring came off safe, without doing any further exploit.

Thus we have taken a view of the extreme afflictions and oppressions of the reformed Chur­ches in many parts of France, wherein within a Thirty thou­sand massacred within a few weeks in the Cities of France. few wéeks well nigh thirty thousand were put to death.

Now in the yeare 1573, many places whither the faithfull were fled for refuge, were assayled by open warre; namely, in the first place that of 60 Sancerre, the History whereof you have here in a short view presented before you in that which followeth.

A relation of the extreme famine which happened in the City of Sancerre in France, being besieged with five hundred 70 horsmen, and about five thousand footmen the ninth of Ianuary, 1573. with their de­liverance. The Siour of Chastre was then Generall of the Kings army.

BEing (saith the story) compassed about with irreconcileable enemies, from about the be­ginning of Aprill; the want of victuals having caused them to gather together all the asses and mules they had in the City, they were eaten up in lesse than a moneth.

Then they came to horses, cats, rats, moules mice, and dogges. After these were spent, they fell to eat oxe and cow-hides, sheep-skins, parch­ment, old shooes, bullockes, and horsehoofes, hornes of lanthornes, ropes, and horse harnesse, leather gir­dles, &c.

In the end of Iune the third part of the be­sieged had not bread to eat. Such as could get hemp séed, ground it, or stamped it in mortars, and made bread of it, the like they did with all sorts of herbes, mingling the same with branne if they had it. There they eat meale of chaffe, nut-shels, and of slate, excrements of horses, and men, yea, the offall which lay in the stréets was not spared.

The nine and twentieth of Iuly, a poore man and his wife were executed for having eaten the head, braines, and entrailes of a young childe about thrée yeares old which died of hunger; having made ready the other parts to eat at ano­ther meale. An old woman lodging in their house, eating a part of this mournefull dyet, dyed in prison, within a few houres after her imprison­ment.

They were found guilty of other offences; but this aggravated the same the more. All children under twelve yeares of age dyed. It was lamen­table to heare the pittifull voices uttered by poore parents for the misery wherein their eyes beheld their languishing and dying infants.

To which purpose you may take notice here of a memorable accident. A boy of ten yeares old, being ready to yéeld up the ghost, séeing his father and mother wéeping over him (whose a [...]nes and legges when they handled, felt as if they had béen dryed stickes) said unto them, wherefore wéepe ye thus, in séeing me famished to death? Mother, saith he, I aske you no bread, I know you have none: but séeing it is Gods will I must die this death, let us bee thankfull for it. Did not the holy man Lazarus dye of famine? Have I not read it in my Bible? In uttering these with the like spéeches he yéelded up the ghost the thirtieth day of Iuly.

That all the people died not of famine in the end of this moneth, it was by reason of certain hor­ses which were reserved for service if néed should be, and six kine which were left to give milk for the sustenance of young infants. These beasts were killed, and their flesh sold for the reliefe of such as were living, with a little corne which by stealth some brought into the City; so that a pound of wheat was sold for halfe a crowne.

There died by fight in Sancerre but eighty four persons, but of the famine more than five hundred. Many souldiers getting forth as they could out of the City, flying from the famine, chose rather to dye by the sword of the enemy; whereof some were slaine, others imprisoned, and the rest put to death by the executioner.

But when all helpe of man failed, the King ha­ving sworne that he would make them eat up God sent these good men in due season from a farre countrey to preserve this distressed city thom utter ruine. one another, the King of Kings delivered them by his wonderfull providence. For at this instant the embassadors from Poland came into France to accept the duke of Anjou for their king, at whose intreaty (which could not well be dented) poore Sancerre, more than halfe famished, was now set at liberty by raising the siege, who otherwise were determined to leave their bones there, rather than to yéeld themselves into their enemies hands, in regard they had oft threatened them with a gene­rall massacre. Whereas now by the Kings ap­pointment they were permitted to passe out of the [Page 74] City armed; if any would tarry, that they should Anno 1574. not be molested: having liberty granted them to dispose of their affaires, as they pleased, with pro­mise of conserving the honour and chastities as well of virgins, as women, &c.

Now let us come to the City of Rochel, which Of this siege Marshall Mon Luc said, that it was great, long, and sightly: but though well assailed. yet better defend­ed. being at this instant strongly besieged by the for­ces of France, both by sea and land, with about forty or fifty thousand men, was yet in the end also delivered, though not without many hot con­flicts, 10 by the immediate hand of God; namely thus: The Embassadors of Poland arriving in France the seventéenth day of Iune, atruce was made on the sudden, articles of peace drawne, and sent to the King, who consented to them, and retur­ned answer in forme of an Edict, granting to those of Rochell, Montauban, Nismes, and others which stood upon their defence, liberty for the exer­cises of Religion; the rest to live peaceably in their houses, and therein to minister the sacrament of 20 [...]aptisme, and marriage as they had wont to doe, so as their assemblies excéeded not the number of ten, besides the parents.

He restored to the Rochellers and others their rites and priviledges, letting fall all the decrées given out against them, approving of their de­fensive war; giving them leave, according to their ancient custome, to retaine in their Cities, Towers, and Fortresses men and munition, yea, to receive in Governours among them, provided 30 that they were such as they had no cause to suspect or except against.

By vertue of this Edict, upon the tenth day of Iuly, about ten of the clocke in the forenoone, the Sieur of Biron entred into the City at the gate called de Coigne, with an Herauld of armes, and foure of the Kings Trumpetters (at which houre peace was proclaimed in the most eminent places thereof) accompanied with the Lieute­nant of the City, and with the Lord of Villiers. 40 After which, dining at the Maiors house, he soone after retyred, being conducted along till he came without the City.

The same day many small Vessels laden with Biskets, Corne, Meale, Fish, and other provisi­on Acertaine Gentleman, Nephew to Puygaillard Governour of Angiers, bragging that he had beene one who mur­thered the Admirall, shewing a short sword which he had used in that slaughter, threaten [...]d the like to the Rochellers, but God cut him short also, at the siege of Sancerre. entred into the Haven. At this siege the Duke D' Amaule lost his life, with Cosseins, who had broken into the Admirals Lodging, and began the massacre at Paris: besides many great Lords, Gentlemen, Captaines, Lieutenants, 50 and Antients, to the number of thréescore, the greater part of which, having their hands em­brued in those other bloody massacres, being come thither received their reward, namely, either pre­sent death, or wounds so incurable that they esca­ped not with life,

One thing ought not here to be passed over in silence, to wit, the provision of victuals which God furnished this besieged people withall, when all other provisions began to faile them, namely, an 60 infinite number of small fishes never séene before in that haven, which every day yéelded themselves to the mercy of the necessitons inhabitants. But as soone as the Edict was published, and the Ro­chellers set at liberty by the arriving of the Po­lish Embassadors, these sea fishes withdrew them­selves.

¶ Although this relation following, touching another siege of this City of Rochel, sutes nothing 70 at all with the order of time, happening as it did in the yeare 1628. yet forasmuch as it seemes to have some affinity with the terrible famine where with both the City of Sancerre and it were afflicted; let not the reader be offended for placing the same here somewhat out of place, being a thing so wor­thy of note.

¶ A description of the manner of the death of Charles the ninth, King of France.

IN the yeare 1574. Charles the ninth, King of France (in the time of whose raigne these fore­named execrable massacres were executed) fell sicke; which sicknesse seised upon him before his brother the Duke of Aniou tooke his voyage into Poland: from which during the winter season he obtained some recovery. But that which then séemed to lie hidden brake forth again afresh in the Spring; so as this Prince, after he had langui­shed thrée whole moneths, viz. February, March, and April, drew his Physitians to a consultation about the state of his body; who in the end conclu­ded to purge and let him blood. But these remedies tooke not such an effect as the King and they expe­cted; for he still wasted and consumed away, be­ing in the flower of his age, to the wonder of ma­ny. Some guessed he had taken a surfet either in eating or drinking; others, that hee was en­chanted.

The thirtieth of May he dyed, in the presence of his mother, and of the Cardinals of Bourbon and Ferrare, &c.

He was borne on the twenty seventh day of Iune, 1550. He began his raigne the first of De­cember, 1560. and so reigned, as that it gives to posterity iust cause both of admiration and dete­station. Thus this Prince lived not forty yeares [Page 75] fully compleat. Now if any desire to be further {Anno 1588.} satisfied as touching the manner of his death, I referre them to that which Master Iohn Fox hath written thereof not many lines before the con­clusion of this booke, commonly called the booke of Martyrs.

A note touching a Bull of Pope Sixtus the 10 fifth, wherein the King of Navarre, and the Prince of Conde were declared Here­tiques &c. with the censure thereof by the Parliament of Paris.

IN September 1585. Pope Sixtus the fifth, by 20 a Bull sent from Rome, condemned the king of Navarre, and the Prince of Conde for Heretikes, excommunicated them, degrading them and their successors from their dignities, especially laying claime to the Crowne of France, absolving their subjects from their oath of alleigiance, and exposing their Countries for a prey to them that could first subdue them.

The Court of Parliament of Paris made a notable remonstrance to the King concerning these Buls, in the which they sought to maintain 30 the priviledges of the Gallicane Church, Among other things, these words that follow are very re­markable. The Court thinks that these Buls are set forth in a stile altogether of a new stamp, and so contrary to the modesty of former Popes, that they can in no sort discerne therein the spirit of a successor of the Apostles. And therefore (as the de­puties of the said Court added) wee can neither find by our registers, nor by any antiquity, that the Princes of France ever subjected themselves 40 so farre to the authority of the Pope, nor that the Subjects have taken such knowledge of the Reli­gion of their Princes. The Court therefore can­noe determine ought thereupon, unlesse first of all the Pope can cause his pretended right in transla­tion of Kingdoms, to appeare, which Kingdomes were established and ordained of God, before the name of a Pope was heard of in the world: that he manifests not to us what title he hath to inter­meddle with the matter of the succession of a young 50 and vigorous Prince, who, for ought the Pope knows, may have his succession yet in his loynes: that he shews not with what appearance of justice or equity he should deny that priviledge which is allowed to such as ate accused of heresie against the decrées of antient canons, namely that no man ought to be held as an heretique, untill his defence be fully and fréely heard, till he have received often admonitions from many Synodes, and there upon sentenced by a Councell lawfully assembled.

Further they added, that séeing the pope in stead 60 of instruction, breaths forth nothing in his Buls but destruction, changing his shepherds crooke into a terrible thunderbolt, rather to scatter then swéetly to call the erring flocke into the Bosome of the Catholique Church, the Court cannot safe­ly admit of, or entertaine a Bull so permitious and opposite to the generall good of all the Christi­an World; and to the soveraignty of the Crowne of France; yea, they further were of opinion, that this Bull deserved to be throwne into the fire and burned, and the sollicitors or upholders thereof 70 for examples sake to be severely chastifed; hum­bly deséeching the King to maintaine his Edicts in his owne Kingdome in peace.

This remonstrance tooke small effect; for not long after, the King being sollicited by the prin­cipall of the league, set forth a declaration the se­venth of October, upon the Edict published in Iuly next before going; wherein having con­fiscated the body and goods of these of the Reli­gion with their associates, who in any Province had taken armes against the fury of the league, it was ordained, that those of the Religion with­in sixe moneths were to depart out of the King­dome, unlesse within fiftéene daies fully accom­plished after the said declaration they should ab­jure.

The Parliament, suffering themselves to be carried downe by the violence of this streame, ac­cepted and admitted of this Edict. The Princes framed an opposition against the Popes Bull, appealing therefrom, as a wrong done unto them, offering to make it appeare in a frée and lawfull Councell, that the Pope had malitiously belied them, in calling them Heretiques; so as if he re­fused this faire and lawfull course by them pro­pounded, they would hold and estéem him for that great antichrist, and would proclaime an openirre [...] concileable war against him. This opposition was affired and set up at Rome the seventh day of November.

Not long after, among those of the Religion which were imprisoned, others were more severe­ly handled. Among many, take notice here of two honourable Women, whose memory ought to be celebrated in this History of the Martyrs; namely, Radagonde daughter of Master Iohn Foucoult, Atturney in the Parliament of Paris, Widow, of the age of fourty yeares, and Claude Foucoult her sister, a Virgin about thiryt six, who were apprehended the nine and twentieth of October 1585. the one of the Village of Pierre­pit néere Paris, and the other in the suburbs of Saint German, and brought prisoners into Cha­ [...]elet because they denied to goe to masse, and would not abjure and forsake the true Religion. Being severed one from the other in prison, they were examined upon sundry Articles To wit, touching the supper of the lord, prayer to saints, prayer for the dead, & about abstai­ning from meats. to which they made their direct answer according to the word of God.

Then being put together, they were accused for disobeying the Kings commandement, which was that these of the Religion were either tode part the Kingdome by such a time, or else abjure, They an­swered, that they were willing toleave the King­dome, if they might obtaine a convenient time to take order about that little which they had there; but refusing to yéeld to their request, they were shut up again and theseventh of November in the presence of the Lieutenant, as also of the Advo­cate for the King, and a sorbonist, they pleaded their Innocency. These men getting no advantage against them, but being rather confounded by the Wisedome of Gods Spirit, speaking by these two sisters, went and complained to the King, that they were obstinate Heretiques. This was in the beginning of the yeare 1588.

They continued in prison many wéeks, being cumbred with many disputes, yet remained un­shaken. The Friday before Easter the "King Hen. the third. himselfe was to sée them, asking them whether they would conforme themselves to the Catho­lique Apostolique Roman church (as he called it) They with such reverence and obeisance, as be­came them, gave him their reasons why they could not so doe, confirming the same by texts of Holy Scripture. His second question was, why they had not obeyed his last Edict. The Widow answered, sir, saith she, I have thrée small Chil­dren to care for; and whereas your Majesty allot­ted those of the Religion the tea [...]me of fiftéene daies after six moneths ended to depart the King­dome; I have done my utmost to take up such monies as were due untome, but those who were indebted unto me neglected to pay me. Besides, [Page 76] hee that kept my vineyards of Pierrepit, to quit {Anno 1588.} himselfe of me, accused me of heresie, causing my sister and my selfe to be here imprisoned, where we have lien six moneths, and if so be our petition presented by us find no acceptance in your Maje­sties sight, we most humbly beséech you to grant that we may be fréed out of prison, and wee will be gone instantly out of the Kingdome according to your Majesties Edict.

The date is past, said the King, nor will I shew 10 you any favour, unlesse you will promise to goe to masse. He was much displeased in séeing their constancy. Now at the same time there was pre­sented before him one sirnamed Richelot, who had béen apprehended that very day in which the women were taken for the cause of Religion, un­to whom the King used not many words: only, in conclusion hee said, there wanted nothing but fa­gots to burne him. This Richelot abjured that day in which these two sisters were executed. The 20 King had five or sixe Sorbonists, which attended on him there, who offered to reason with the prisoners by occasion of a word spoken by the widow. But the King preventing it, said, we are not come hither to dispute, let them be laid wast, and none suffered to come to them.

Within halfe an houre after, the Duke of Lon­gueville came to visit them, saying, he was sorry for their affliction, counselling them to go to masse, alleadging, it is written, Thou shalt obey thy 30 Prince, and if he therein force you to it against your conscience, he shall answer [...] for it; adding, that they were to remember their sexe, and there­fore to be teachable upon the point of obedience. They answered, that no earthly potentate had any warrant to command Christians to sinne against their consciences.

They further besought him to be a meanes for them to the king, that they might be delivered: but all the answer he gave them was this, That if 40 they would not turne, the King would not deliver them: also there was great likelihood, after their long detension in prison, that they must be execu­ted in the end.

The next day being Easter Even, the Quéen with the Duchesse of Ioyeuse came into Chaste­let to visit the prisoners. But in stead of speaking to the two sisters her selfe, she sent unto them a wicked Apostata, called Mathew de Launy, who being a Minister turned popish priest, and one 50 whom the league made no small use of; who loa­ding these honourable sisters with injuries and reproachfull spéeches, calling them dogges and Devils incarnate, and worthy to be burned, so left them and never came any more unto them. Soone after the day of the Barricadoes, which is a defence made of earth and stones heaped up, serving to stop a stréet or any passage, the Iud­ges of Chastellot adjudged them to be hangd, and their bodies to be burned to ashes. From which 60 sentence they appealed to the Court, and were brought into the Consciergery, which is the name of a common Gaole belonging to Paris or any other prison.

On the Even before Saint Iohn Baptists day in the moneth of Iune, the common people in Paris making fires as they were wont to doe, amongst other insolencies, burnt in divers parts Queene Eli­zabeths pi­cture burned in Paris. of the City a picture representing the Quéene of England.

The next day the curates and preachers began 70 in their sermons to thunder, saying, That it was not enough to burne the pictures of heretiques, but to burne the bodies of the obstinate prisoners: which so inraged the tumultuous sort of people, that the day following, flocking together into the court of the palace, they threatned the Presidents and the Counsell, that some mischiefe should fol­low unlesse they condemned these two prisoners to dye. A gentle answer was returned to this factious crue, with promise also that the busines should not long be delayed.

The next day the eldest son of Radegonde pre­sented a petition to the Duchesse of Nemours, daughter to the late lady of Ferrare. Her grace sollicited the Duke of Guise her son, for the pri­soners: whose answer was, That his comming to Paris was not to petition the King in favour of those of the Religion; and if he would doe so (in re­gard of the services which the prisoners had done his grandfather) yet he could not, fearing lest the mad multitude might set upon him.

The eight and twentieth day of the same month of Iune, the Court having confirmed the sen­tence given at Chastellot, sent them backe thither to be executed, so as about noone they were gag­ged, because the maid professed, that if they brought her into any Idols Temple, shee would extend her voice so loud against the same, that every one should heare it. About thrée of the clocke they were led as shéepe to the slaughter, where they constantly persisted in the profession of the true Religion.

The widow being ascended the Ladder shooke out of her hands a woodden crosse, which they had by force affixed thereto, whereat the multitude were so provoked, that they began to throw stones and staves at her, so as the hangman having tur­ned her off the Ladder cut the rope by and by, letting her fall halfe dead into the fire, wherein she yéelded up her soule into the hands of God, as also her sister did.

¶ Being now come to the yeare, 1588. it gives us just occasion to call to mind that miraculous deliverance of our noble Quéene and Countrey, from the intended invasion of the Spaniards the same yeare. The memoriall whereof, that it might the rather be continued to the ages succéeding, de­serves by way of history here to bee inserted as in its due and proper place. Of which deliverance it may truly be said (all things considered) that it was the Lords doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes. The true relation whereof here followeth.

¶ A briefe discourse touching the great preparations made by the Spaniards, and other Romish Catholikes, for that invin­cible Navy, intended for the invading and surprising of the Realme of England, together with their utter overthrow.

HEr Majesty of England having had intelli­gence from sundry places of the great and di­ligent preparation of the King of Spaine in di­vers parts both by sea and land, not onely of the strongest ships in all places within his domini­ons, but of all sorts of provision necessary for so mighty a Fléet, as hee intended to set forth; and these rumors of warre, which before were but The Spa­nish navy pre­pard to in­vade Eng­land. sleight, daily increasing, at last it was certainely confirmed by the newes on all sides, that in Spaine there was an invincible Navy prepa­ring against England; that the most famous cap­taines in military knowledge, and the best souldi­ers were sent for into Spaine, from Italy, Sici­ly, yea from America. For the Pope and some re­ligious Spaniards, and English fugitives, now recalled the Spaniard to the cogitation of surpri­sing [Page 77] of England, which purpose was interrupted by the Portugall warres. They exhorted him ear­nestly to doe God this service, that had done so much for him; now that he enjoyed Portugall with the West-Indies, and many rich Islands, to adde England to all, were an especiall service of God, fit for his Catholike Majesty. By this meanes hee might adde these flourishing King­domes to his Empire, and so kéepe the Low­countries in peace, and secure the navigations to 10 both Indies. That the preparations of Spaine were so great that no power was able to resist it. They made him beléeve that it was an easier matter to overcome England, than to overcome the Dutchland, because the navigation from Spain to England was much shorter, than to the Netherlands. And by surprising of England the other would easily follow.

Hereupon the consultation began to be had, of 20 Consultation about the best way & means how to op­presse Eng­land. the best way and meanes to oppresse England. Alvarus Bassanus, the Marquesse of S. Crosse, who was chiefe commander in the Navy, advised first to make sure some part of Holland or Zea­land, by the Land forces of the Duke of Parma, and by sending before some Spanish ships, so to take some place on a sudden, where the Spanish Navy might have a receptacle, and from whence the invasion might with convenience begin. For in the English sea, which is troublesome, the windes oft changing, and the tides unknowne, the 30 Navy could not be in safety. With him agréed Parma who much urged this expedition. Yet others disliked this counsell, as a matter of great difficulty and danger, of long time, of much la­bor, of great expence, and uncertaine successe. And that neither secretly nor openly it could be perfor­med, and easily hindered by the English. These thought that with the same labour and expences England might be won: and the victory would be sure, if a well prepared army from Spaine might with a strong Navy be landed on Thames [...]oe, 40 and of a sudden surprise London the chiefe City, by an unexpected assault. This séemed a thing most easie to be effected.

The Duke of Parma also in Flanders, by the The Duke of Parma plays his part. commandement of the Spaniard, built ships, and a great company of small broad vessels, each one able to transport thirty horse, with bridges fitted for them severally, And hired mariners from the East part of Germany. And provided long pie­ces 50 of wood, sharpened at the end, and covered with yron, with hooks on the one side; And twenty thousand vessels, with an huge number of fa­gots, and placed an army ready in Flanders, of an 103. companies of foot, and foure thousand horsemen. Among these were seven hundred En­glish fugitives, which were had of all other in most contempt. Neither was Stanley respected or heard, who was set over the English, nor West­merland, nor any other who offered their help: 60 but for their impiety towards their owne countrey were shut out from all consultations, and as men unominous rejected, not without detestation. And Pope Sixtus the fifth, that in such a purpose would not be wanting sent Cardinall Alan into The Pope excommuni­cates the Queen, &c. Flanders, and renued the Buls declaratory of Pius 5. and Gregory the thirtéenth. He excom­municateth the Quéen, deposeth her, absolveth her subjects from all allegiance, and as if it had béen against the Turks and Infidels, he set forth in print a Conceat, wherein he bestowed plenary indulgences, out of the treasure of the Church (be­sides 70 a million of gold, or ten hundred thousand Duckats, to be distributed, (the one half in hand, the other halfe when either England or some fa­mous haven therein should be won) upon all them that would joyne their helpe against England. By which meanes the Marquesse of Burgain, of the house of Austria, the Duke of Pastrana, Ar­mady Duke of Savoy, Vespasian Gonzaga, Id. Medices, and divers other noblemen were drawn into these wars.

Quéene Elizabeth, that she might not be sur­prised at unawares, prepared as great a Navy as she could, and with singular care and provi­dence maketh ready all things necessary for war. And she her selfe, which was ever most judici­ous in discerning of mens wits and aptnesse, and The Queen selects out such able and serv [...]ceable men as were fit [...] est to un­dertake so great implos­ment. most happy in making choice, when she made it out of her owne judgement, and not at the com­mandement of others, d [...]signed the best and most serviceable to each severall imployment. Over the whole Navy she appointed the Lord Admirall Charles Howard, in whom shee repo­sed much trust; and sent him to the West parts of England, where Captaine Drake, whom she made Viceadmirall, joyned with him. She com­manded Henry Seimor, the second sonne to the Duke of Somerset, to watch upon the Belgicke shore with forty English and Dutch shippes, that the Duke of Parma might not come out with his forces. Albeit some were of opinion, that the enemy was to be expected, and set upon by land forces, according as it was upon deliveration resolved, in the time of Henry the eighth, when the French brought a great Navy upon the Eng­lish shore.

For the land fight, there were placed on the Order taken about the land fight. South shores twenty thousand: And two ar­mies besides were mustered of the choicest men for war. The one of these which consisted of 1000, horse, twenty two thousand foot, was the Earle of Leicester set over, and camped at Tilbury on the side of Thames. For the enemy was resol­ved first to set upon London. The other army was governed by the Lord Hunsdon, consisting of thirty foure thousand foot, and two thousand horse, to guard the Quéene.

The Lord Grey, Sir Francis Knolles, Sir Iohn Norice, Sir Richard Bingham, Sir Roger Williams, men famously knowne for military experience, were chosen to conferre of the land fight. These thought fit that all those places should be fortified, with men and munition, which were commodious to land in, either out of Spaine, or out of Flanders, as Milford haven. Falmouth, Plimmouth, Portland, the Isle of Wight, Ports­mouth, the open side of Kent called the Downes, the mouth of Thames, Harwich, Yarmouth, Hul, &c. That trained souldiers through all the mari­time provinces should méet upon warning given, to defend these places: that they should, by their best meanes and power, hinder the enemy to take land; if he should take land, then should they wast the Countrey all about, and spoyle every thing that might be of any use to the enemy, that so hee might find no more victuals then what he brought upon his shoulders with him. And that by con­tinuall alarums the enemy should find no rest day or night. But they should not try any bat­tell, untill divers Captaines were met toge­ther with their companies. That one Captaine might be named in every shire which might com­mand.

Two yeares before, the Duke of Parma consi­dering how hard a matter it was to end the Bel­gicke A Counsell about peace pretended on the adversa­ries part, whilest they intended to make war. warre, so long as it was continually nou­rished and supported with ayde from the Quéene, he moved for a treaty of peace, by the meanes of Sir Iames Croft one of the privy Counsell, a man deshous of peace, and Andrew Loe a Dutch­man, and professed that the Spaniard had dele­gated authority to him for this purpose. But the Quéene fearing that there was some cunning in this séeking of peace, that the friendship betwéene her and the confederate Princes might bee dis­solved, [Page 78] and that so they might secretly be drawne to the Spantard; she deferred that treaty for some time. But now, that the wans on both sides prepa­red might be turned away, shee was content to treat of peace; It is the ho­nor of a King, saith Solo­mon, to search out a thing. Delegats sent into Flan­ders about a treaty of peace but so, as still holding the weapons in her hand.

For this purpose in February Delegats were sent into Flanders, the Earle of Darby, the Lord Cobham, Sir Iames Croft, Doctor Dale, and do­ctor Rogers. These were received with all huma­nity on the Dukes behalfe, and they presently sent 10 Doctor Dale to him, that a place might be appoin­ted for their treating, and that they might see the authority delegated to him by the Spanish King. Hee appointed the place néere to Ostend, not in Ostend, which then was holdē of English against the King. His authority delegated he promised then to shew, when they were once met together. Hee wished them to make good spéed in the busi­nesse, lest somewhat might fall out in the meane 20 time which might trouble the motions of peace. Richardotus spake somewhat more plainly, That he knew not what in this interim should be done against England.

Not long after, Doctor Rogers was sent to the Prince, by an expresse commandement from the Quéene, to know the truth, whether the Spaniard had resolved to invade England, which he and Ri­chardotus séemed to signifie. He affirmed, that he did not so much as thinke of the invasion of Eng­land, when he wished that the busines might pro­ced 30 with spéed: and was in a manner offended with Richardotus, who denied that such words fell from him.

The twelfth of April the Count Aremberg, Champigny, Richardotus, D. Maesius, and Gar­nier, delegated from the Prince of Parma, met with the English, and [...]éelded to them the honour both in walking and sitting. And when they affir­med that the Duke had full authority to treat of peace, the English moved, thot first a truce might 40 be made. Which they dented; alledging that that thing must néeds be hurtfull to the Spaniard, who had for six moneths maintained a great army, which might not be dismissed upon a truce, but up­on an absolute peace. The English urged, That a Truce was promised before they came into Flanders. The Spauiard against that held, That sixe moneths since a Truce was promised; which they granted, but was not admitted. Neither 50 was it in the Quéenes power to undertake a Truce for Holland and Zealand, who dayly at­tempted hostility. The English moved instant­ly, that the Truce might be generall for all the Quéenes Territories, and for the Kingdome of Scotland: but they would have it but for foure Dutch towns which were in the Quéens hands; that is, Ostend, Flushing, Bergen up Zom, and the Briel; and these onely during the Treating, and twenty daies after; and that in the mean time it might bee lawfull for the Quéene to invade 60 Spaine, or for the Spaniard to invade England, either from Spain or Flanders. At last, when the English could not obtaine an abstinence from armes, and could by no means sée the Charter by which the Duke of Parma was authorised to treat of peace; they proposed these things, That the antient leagues betwéene the Kings of Eng­land and the Dukes of Burgondy might bee re­newed and confirmed; That all the Dutch might fully enjoy their own priviledges; That with frée­dome 70 of conscience they might serve God; That the Spanish and forraine fouldiers might bee put out of Dutchland, that neither the Dutch nor their neighbouring nations might feare them. If these things might be granted, the Quéene would come to equall conditions conceming the townes which now she held (that all might know, that she tooke tooke up armes not for her owne gaine, but for the necessary defence both of her selfe and of the Dutch) so that the money which is owing there­fore be repayed. To the which they answered, that for renewing the old leagues there should be no difficulty, when they might have a friendly conference of that thing. That concerning the priviledges of the Dutch, there was no cause why forraine Princes should take care, which priviled­ges were most favourably granted not onely to provinces and townes reconciled, but even to such as by force of armes are brought into subjection. That forraine souldiers were held upon urgent necessity, when as Holland, England, and France were all in armes.

Touching those Townes taken from the king of Spaine, and the repaying of the money, they answered, That the Spaniard might demand for many myriads of Crownes to be from the Quéene repayed him, as the Belgicke war hath cost him since the time that she hath favoured and protected the Dutch against him.

At this time Doctor Dale by the Quéens com­mand, going to the Duke of Parma, did gently expostulate with him touching a booke printed there, set out lately by Cardinall Allen, where in he exhorts the Nobles and people of England and Ireland to joyn themselves to the King of Spains forces, under the conduct of the Prince of Par­ma, for the execution of the sentence of Pope Six­tus the fifth against the Quéene, declared by his Bull; in the which she is declared an heretike, ille­gitimate, cruell against Mary Quéene of Scots, and her subjects were commanded to help Parma against her: (for at that time a great number of those Bulls and Books were printed at Ant werp to be dispersed through England.) The Duke de­nied that he had séen such a Bull or Booke, neither would he doe any thing by the Popes authority, as for his owne King, him he must obey. Yet hee said, he so observed the Quéen for her princely ver­tues, that after the King of Spaine he offered all service to her. That he had perswaded the King of Spaine to yéeld to this treaty of peace, which is more profitable for English than Spanish: for if they should be overcome they would easily repaire their losse, but if you be overcome the Kingdome is lost.

To whom Dale replyed, That our Quéea was sufficiently furnished with forces to defend the Kingdome. That a Kingdome will not easily be gotten by the fortune of one battell, séeing the King of Spaine in so long a warre is not yet able to recover his antient patrimony in the Nether­lands.

Well, quoth the Duke, be it so, these things are in Gods hands.

After this the Delegates contended among themselves by mutuall replications, weaving and unweaving the same web. The English were earnest in this, that fréedome of religion might be granted at least for two yeares to the confederate Prov [...]ces. They answered, That as the King of Spain had not intreated that for English Catho­likes; so they hoped the Quéen in her wisedome would not intreat any thing of the King of Spaine which might stand against his honor, his oath, and his cons [...]tence.

When they demanded the money due from the States of Brabant, it was answered, That the money was lent without the Kings authority or privity: but let the account be taken, how much the money was, and how much the King hath spent in these wars, ond then it may appeare who should looke for repayment.

Thus the English of set purpose were from time to time driven off, untill the Spanish fléet was come néere the English shore, and the noise [Page 79] of Guns were heard from Sea. Then had they leave to depart, and were by the Delegates hono­rably brought to the borders néere to Calts. The Duke of Parma had in the meane time brought all his forces to the Sea shore.

Thus this conference came to nothing; under­taken by the Quéene, as the wiser then thought, to avert the Spanish fléet; continued by the Spa­niard, that he might oppresse the Quéene, being as he supposed unprovided, and not expecting the 10 danger. So both of them tryed to use time to their best advantages.

In fine the Spanish Fléet well furnished with Preparation for setting forth of the Spanish fleet men, munition, Engines, and all warlike prepara­tion, the best indéed that was ever séen upon the Ocean, called by that arrogant title the Invinci­ble Navy, consisting of a hundred and thirty ships, wherein there were ninetéene thousand two hun­dred ninety; Mariners eight thousand thrée hun­dred and fifty: chained rowers eleven thousand 20 and eighty: great Ordnance eleven thousand six hundred and thirty. The chiefe commander was Perezius Gusmannus, Duke of Medina Sido­nia; (For Antonius Colunma Duke of Palian and Marquesse of Saint Crosse, unto whom the chiefe government was allotted, dyed whilest things were preparing.) And under him also Ioannes Martinus Ricaldus, a man of great ex­perience in Sea affaires.

The 30. of May they loosed out of the River 30 The time when the na­vy set out. Tagus, and purposing to hold their course to the Groine, in Gallitia, they were beaten and scatte­red by a tempest: thrée Gallies by the helpe of David Gwin an English servant, and by the per­fidiousnesse of the Turkes which rowed, were ca­ried away into France. The Fléet with much adoe after some dayes came to the Groine and other harbours néere adjoyning. The report was, The great fleet sore sha­ken with a tempest. that the Fléet was so shaken with this tempest, that the Quéen was perswaded, that she was not 40 to expect that Fléet this yeare. And six Francis Walsingham, Secretary, wrote to the Lord Ad­mirall, that he might send backe foure of the grea­test shi [...]s, as if the war had béen ended. But the Lord Admirall did not easily give credit to that report; yet with a gentle answer entreated him to beléeve nothing hastily in so important a mat­ter: As also that he might be permitted to kéepe those Shippes with him which hée had, though it were upon his owne charges. And finding 50 a favourable winde turned Sailes towards Spaine, to surprise the enemies shaken Ships in their harbours. When he was not far from the shore of Spaine, the winde turned, and hée being charged to defend the English shore, fearing that the enemies unséene might by the same wind be driven to England, he returned unto Plim­mouth.

Now with the same winde, the twelfth of Iuly, the duke of Medina with his fléet departed from 60 the Groine. And after a few daies he sent Rode­ricus Telius into Flanders, to advertise the duke of Parma, giving him warning that the fléet was approaching, and therefore he was to make him­selfe ready. For Medina his Commission was to joyne himselfe with the Ships and Souldiers of Parma; and under the protection of his Fléet, to bring them into England, and to land his land forces upon Thames side.

The sixtéenth day (saith the relator) there was 70 The Spa­nish Navy the second time scattered. a great calme, and a thicke cloud was upon the Sea till noone: then the North winde blowing roughly, and again the West winde till midnight, and after that the East; the Spanish Navy was scattered, and hardly gathered together untill they came within the sight of England the nine­téenth day of Iuly. Upon which day the Lord Admirall was certified by Flemming (who had béene a Pyrate) that the Spanish Fléet was en­tred into the English Sea, which the Mariners Flemming a Pyrate disco­vers the Spa­nish fleet to the English. call the Channell, and was discryed neere to the Lisard. The Lord Admirall brought forth the English Fléet into the Sea, but not without great difficulty, by the skill, labour, and alacrity of the souldiers and mariners, every one labouring; yea the Lord Admirall himselfe put his hand to this worke.

The next day the English Fléet viewed the The fashion of the Spa­nish fleet de­scribed. Spanish Fléet comming along with Towers like Castles in height, her front crooked like the fashion of the Moone, the hornes of the front were extended one from the other about seven miles, or as some say eight miles asunder, sailing with the labour of the windes, the Ocean as it were groa­ning under it; their saile was but slow, and yet at full saile before the winde. The English were willing to let them hold on their course, and when they were passed by, got behind them, and so got the help of the winde.

Upon the one and twentieth of Iuly, the Lord Admirall of England sent a Pinace before, cal­led the Defiance, to denounce the battell by shoo­ting off some péeces. And being himselfe in the Arch-Royall (the, English Pretorian ship or Ad­mirall) he set upon a ship which he tooke to be the Spanish Admirall, but it was the ship of Alfon­sus Leva. Upon that he bestowed much shot. Presently Drake, Hawkins, and Forbisher came The first fight in upon the Spanish hindmost ships which Rical­dus governed. Upon these they thundred. Rical­dus laboured as much as lay in him to stay his men, who fled away in their Navy, untill his ship beaten and much battered with many shot hardly recovered the Fléet. Then the Duke Medina ga­thered together his dissipated Fléet, and setting up more saile, held on their course, Indéed they could doe no other, for the English had gotten the advantage of winde, and their ships were much more nimble, and ready with incredible celerity to come upon the enemy with a full course, and then to turne and returne, and be on every side at their pleasure. After a long fight, and that each of them had taken some triall, as of their owne cou­rage, so of the Spaniards also, the Lord Admirall thought good not to continue the same any longer, in regard that forty ships were then absent, which at that instant were scarce drawne out of Plim­mouth Haven.

The night following, Saint Katherine a Spa­nish ship, being sore torne with the fight, was re­ceived into the middest of the Navy to be mend­ed. Here a great Cantabrian ship of Oquenda, wherein was the Treasurer of the Campe, by force of Gun-powder that had taken fire, was fi­red: yet it was quenched in time by the shippes that came to helpe her. Of these that came to helpe the fired ship, one was a Galeon, in which was Petrus Waldez; the foremast of the Gale­on was caught in the tak [...]ing of another ship, and broken. This was taken by Drake, who sent Waidez to Dartmouth, and a great summe of mo­ney, viz. fifty five thousand duckats, which he dis­tributed amongst the souldiers. This Waldez comming into Drakes presence, kissed his hand, and told him they had all resolved to die, if they had not béene so happy as to fall into his hands, whom he knew to be noble. That night be was appointed to set forth light, but neglected it; and some Germane Merchant ships comming by that night, he thinking them to be enemies followed them so far, that the English Navy rested all night when they could sée no light set forth. Nei­ther did he nor the rest of the Navy finde the Ad­mirall untill the next day at Even. The Admi­rall all the night procéeding with the Beare and the Mary Rose did carefully follow the Spani­ards [Page 80] with watchfulnesse. The Duke was busied Anno 1620. in ordering his Navy. Alfonsus Leva was com­manded to joyne the first and last companies. Every ship had his station assigned according to that prescribed forme which was appointed in Spaine; it was present death to forsake his sta­tion. This done, he sent Gliclius an Anceani to Parma, which might declare to him in what case they were, and left that Cantabrian ship of Oquenda to the winde and Sea, having taken out 10 the money and mariners, and put them in other ships. Yet it séemeth that he had not care of all: for that Ship the same day with fifty Mariners and souldiers lamed, and halfe burnt, fell into the hands of the English, and was carried to Weymuth.

The thrée and twentieth of the soone moneth, the Spaniards having a favourable North winde turned sailes upon the English; the English being much readier in the use of their ships, fet about a 20 compasse for the winde, and having gotten advan­tage of the winde, they came to the fight on both sides. They fought a while confusedly with vari­able successe: whilest on the one side the English with great courage delivered the London ships which were inclosed about by the Spaniards; on the other side the Spaniards by valour fréed Ri­caldus from the extreme danger he was in: great were the effulminatiōs which by beating of Ord­nances were heard this day. But the losse (by the 30 good providence of God) fell upon the Spanish side, their ships being so high that the shot went over our English ships; and the English having such a faire mark at their taller ships never shot in vaine. Amidst which encounters, Cock an Englishman, being caught indéed in the middest of the Spanish ships, could not be recovered, but perished, howbeit with great honor he rebenged himselfe. Thus a long time the English ships with great agility were sometimes upon the Spa­niards, 40 giving them the one side, and then the other, and presently were off againe, and still tooke the Sea, to make themselves ready to come in againe. Whereas the Spanish ships being of great bur­then were troubled and hindred, and stood to bée markes for the English Bullets. For all that the Admirall would not admit the English to The Admi­rall would not suffer his ships to come to grapple with the Spanish. come to boord their ships, because they had a full army in their ships, which he had not; their ships were many in number, and greater, and higher, 50 that if they had come to grapple, as some would have had if, the English being much lower then the Spanish ships must néeds have had the worst of them that fought from the higher ships. And if the English had béen overcome, the losse would have béen greater than the victory could have béen; for ours being overcome would have put the king­dome in hazard.

The foure and twentieth day of Iuly they gave over fighting on both sides. The Admirall 60 sent some small Barkes to the next English shore, to supply the provision; And divided all his Na­vy into foure squadrons: The first whereof was under his owne government; the next Drake governed; the third Hawkins; the last For­bisher. And he appointed out of every squadron certaine little ships, which on divers sides might set upon the Spaniards in the night, but a sudden calme tooke them, and so that advice was without effect.

The five and twentieth day, being S. Iames 70 The third fight. day, S. Anne the Galeon of Portugall, not be­ing able to hold course with the rest, was set up­on by some small English ships. To whose aide came in Leva, and Didacus Telles Enrigues with thrée Galeasses: which the Admirall and the Lord Thomas Howard espying, made in against the Galeasses (the calme was so great that they were drawne in by boats with cords) and did so beat upon the Galeasses with great shot, that with much adoe, and not without great losse, they hardly recovered the Galeon. The Spaniards reported that the Admirall of Spaine was that day in the hindmost company, and being come néerer the English ships then before, was sore beaten with the English great Ordnance, many men flaine in her, her great mast over­throwne. And after that the Admirall of Spaine, accompanied with Ricaldus and others, did set upon the English Admirall, who by the benefit of the winde suddenly turning escaped. The Spa­niards hold on their course againe, and send to the Duke of Parma, that with all spéed he should joyne his ships with the Kings Fléet. These things the English knew not, who write that [...]he [...] had stricken the Lanthorne from one of the Spa­nish ships, the stemme from another, and had sore beaten a third, doing much harme to her. That the Non Parigdy, and the Mary Rose fought a good while with the Spaniards; and the Triumph being in danger, o [...]her ships came in good time to help her.

The next day the Lord Admirall knighted the Knights made. Lord Thomas Howard, The Lord Sheffield, Roger Townesend, Iohn Hawkins, and Martin Forbisher, for their valour well imployed in the last fight. After this they resolved not to set up­on the enemy untill they came into the straight of Calis, where Henry Seimor, and William Winter staid for their comming. Thus with the faire gale the Spanish Fléet go [...]th forward, and the English followed. This great Spanish Ar­madoe was so far from being estéemed Invinci­ble in the opinions of the English, that many yong men and Gentlemen, in hope to be partakers of a famous victory against the Spaniards, pro­vided ships of their owne charges, and joyned themselves to the English Fléet; among whom were the Earles of Essex, of Northumberland, of Noblemen and Gentle­men joyne with the fleet. Cumberland, Thomas and Robert Cecilles, Henry Brookes, William Hatton, Robert Cary, Ambrose Willoughby, Thomas Gerard, Arthur Gorge, and other Gentlemen of good note and quality.

The seven and twentieth day at Even, the Purposing to execute their designe on fri­day the 12. of August, the night being dark, but how happily the same was pre­vented, reade the next secti­on following. Spainards cast anchor néere to Calis, being ad­monished of their skilfull Sea-men, that if they went any further, they might be indangered by force of that tide to be driven into the North Oce­an. Néere to them stood the English Admirall with his Fléet within a great Guns shot. To the Admirall Seimor and Winter now joyne their ships; so that now there were an hundred and forty ships in the English Fléet, able and well furnished for fight, for saile, and to turne which way was néedfull: and yet there were but fiftéen of these which bore the burden of the battell and re­pulsed the enemy. The Spaniard, as often he had done before, so now with great earnestnesse sent to the Duke of Parma to send forty flie boats, without the which they could not fight with the English, because of the greatnesse and slownesse of their owne ships, and the agility of the English ships: And intreating him by all meanes now to come to Sea with his army, which army was now to be protected as it were under the wings of the Spanish Annadoe, untill they tooke land in England.

But the Duke was unprovided, and could not come out at an instant. The broad shippes with flat bottomes being then full of chinkes must bée mended. Victuals wanted and must be provided. The Mariners being long kept against their wills beganne to shrinke away. The Ports of Dunkerke and Nieuport, by which he must bring his army to the sea, were now so beset with the [Page 81] strong ships of Holland and Zealand, which were Anno 1588. furnished with great and small munition, that he was not able to come to Sea, unlesse he would come upon his owne apparent destruction, and cast himselfe and his men wilfully into a head­long danger. Yet he omitted nothing that might be done, being a man eager and industrious, and inflamed with a desire of overcomming Eng­land.

But Quéene Elizabeth her providence and 10 A notable stratagem of the English. care prevented both the diligence of this man, and the credulous hope of the Spaniard: for by her commandement the next day the Admirall tooke eight of their worst ships, charging the Ordnance therein up to the mouth with small shot, nailes, and stones, and d [...]essed them with wilde fire, pitch, and rosin, and filled them full of brimstone and some other matter fit for fire, and these being set on fire by the ministery and guiding of Yong and Prowse, were secretly in the night by the helpe 20 of the winde set full upon the Spanish Fléete, which on Sunday the seventh of August they sent in among them as they lay at anchor.

When the Spaniards saw them come néere, the flame shining and giving light all over the sea; they supposing those ships, besides the danger of fire, to have béen also furnished with deadly En­gines, to make horrible destruction among them; lifting up a most hideous wofull cry, some pull up anchors, some for haste cut their Cables, they set 30 up their sailes, they apply their oares, and striken with a Pannick terror, in great haste they [...]ed most confusedly. Among them the Pretorian gal­leasse floating upon the Seas, her rudder being broken, in great danger and feare drew towards Calis, and sticking in the Sand was taken by Amias Preston, Thomas Gerard, and Harvey; Hugh Moncada the governor was slaine, the sol­diers and Mariners were either killed or drown­ed; In her there was found great store of Gold, 40 which fell to be the prey of the English. The ship and Ordnance fell to the share of the Governour of Calts.

The Spaniards report, that the Duke when he saw the fiery ships comming commanded all the fléet to pull up their anchors, but so, as the danger being past, every ship might return again to his station: and he himselfe returned, giving a signe to the rest by shooting off a Gun; which was heard but of a few, for they were far off scat­tered, 50 some into the open Ocean, some through feare were driven upon the shallowes of the coast of Flanders.

Over against Graveling the Spanish fléet be­gan to gather themselves together. But upon The 4. sight before Grave­ling, Aug 8. them came Drake and Fenner, and battered them with great Ordnance: to these Fènton, Southwell, Béeston, Crosse, Riman, and pre­sently after the Lord Admiral, Thomas Howard, and Sheffield came in and all joyned together. 60 The Duke Medina, Leva, Oquenda, Ricaldus, and others with much adoe getting themselves out of the shallows sustained the English force as well as they might, untill most of their ships were pierced and torne; the Galleon S. Matthew, governed by Diego Pimentellus, comming to aide Francis Toletan, being in the S. Philip, was pierced and shaken with the reiterated shots of Seimor and Winter, and driven to Ostend, and was at last taken by the Flushingers. The 70 S. Philip came to the like end; so did the Gal­leon of Biscay and divers others.

The last day of this moneth, the Spanish fléet striving to recover the straights again, were dri­ven toward Zealand. The English left off pur­suing them, as the Spaniards thought, because they saw them in a manner cast away; for they could not avoid the shallowes of Zealand. But the winde turning, they gat them out of the shal­lowes, and then began to consult what were best for them to doe. By common consent they resol­ved to returne into Spaine by the Northerne Seas, for they wanted many necessaries, especi­ally shot, their ships were torne, and they had no hope that the Duke of Parma could bring forth his forces. And so they tooke the Sea, and follow­ed the course toward the North. The English Navy followed, and sometimes the Spanish turned upon the English, insomuch that it was thought by many that they would turne backe againe.

¶ The death of the Duke of Guise, and Hen­ry Anno 1598. the third King of France.

IT was not long after that the Duke of Guise, who was slain by the Lord Lougna at the kings Chamber doore, and King Henry the third were taken away; he being the last of the house of Val­lois, and dying without any lawfull heires of his 10 body begotten.

The manner of whose death was thus. A Frier of the Order of Saint Dominicke, called Iames Clement, pretended hee had matters of great consequence to impart to the King: who being ad­mitted into his presence, upon his knées presen­ted the King with a Letter which he drew out of one sléeve; which whilst the King attentively read, the Frier pulled forth a poysoned knife out of his other sléeve, wherewith he stabbed the King into 20 the lower part of his belly. The King féeling him­selfe hurt therewith, snaching it out of the wound, strucke the same into the Friers eye, who hasting to get away, the King crying out, His Lords and Gentlemen perceiving what the Frier had done, slew him presently with rapiers and swords. The King before hee died, having raigned fourtéene yeares and seven moneths, called for the King of Navarre, all the Princes, Lords and Noblemen, that were in his campe, and declared that the 30 King of Navarre was the true lawfull heire to the Crowne of France; willing them all to ac­knowledge him for their King, and that notice should likewise be given throughout all his camp and Kingdome also.

Thus the soveraigne Iudge of the world made The raigne of Henry the fourth over the kingdome of France. way for the entrance of Henry the fourth to have dominion over the Kingdome of France. Now howsoever from the yeare 1589. to this present yeare 1598. the Churches of Christ have séene 40 marvellous changes, and how the league for a time made many furious onsets: yet it pleased God so to moderate things, that the faithfull were preserved from being persecuted; yea, they obtai­ned of their Prince many priviledges and favors. For the King in the first yeres of his raigne con­tinuing in the profession of the true Religion, wherein he had béen bred and brought up, did manfully resist both these of the league, and the Spaniards, the great God of battels blessing the 50 right and just wars undertaken by this Prince, to the confusion of all his enemies, till he fell to side with Popery; though the affairs of his Kingdome gained but little thereby.

¶ A Note touching the Popes Bull.

THe Leaguers séeing what prosperous successe 60 God gave King Henry the fourth in his wars undertaken against them, fearing that in the end all would yéeld unto him, they procured a new ex­communication from Rome, against him and all his faithfull subjects, causing the same to bee pub­lished at Pont [...]e I'Arch in Normandy, by Mar­cellus Laudria [...]us a malapert Iesuite. The king, being advertised thereof, commanded his Court of Parliament holden at Cane, to proceed against 70 Pope Gregory the fourtéenth who sent it, and his Nuncio that brought it, as against Tyrants, conspirators with Rebels, perturbers of the state, sowers of seditions, and the common and notori­ous enemies of God and all goodnesse.

Then taking the Popes Bull, he caused it to be fastened to a Gibbet at Tours, by the common hangman of the towne, and there to be consumed to ashes, to the great rejoycing of all the behol­ders.

¶ The History of one Margaret Pierrone, who chose rather to be burned her selfe, than willingly to burne her Bible, Anno 1593.

THere was one Margaret Pierrone borne in a village of Cambray called Sansay, who with her husband retired into the City of the Va­lencians. Now because she could not endure the bad qualities of a maid servant of hers, shee was by her said maid accused to the new sect-Ma­sters sirnamed the Iesuites, for that shee had not béen in many yeares at the masse, as also for kéeping in her house a Bible, in reading whereof was her whole delight. They acquain­ting the Magistrate herewith, she was by and by apprehended: some friends sent her an inck­ling thereof before hand once or twice, that shée should get her some where out of the way: but the errand was not done, God having a purpose that she should beare [...]vitnes of his truth, to fill up the number of those that were to die for the name of Iesus.

Being in prison, the Iudges calling her before them, said, Margaret, are you not willing to re­turne home unto your house, and there live with your husband and children? Yes saith she, if it may stand with the good will of God. They added further, that they had so wrought with their Fa­thers the Iesuites, that in doing a small matter she might be set at liberty, If, saith she, it be not a thing contrary to Gods glory and mine owne salvation, you shall heare what I will say. No such thing Margaret, said they: for a scaffold shall be erected in the chiefe place of the City, upon which you are to present your self, and there to crave pardon for your offending the Law; then a fire being kindled, you must cast your bible therein to bee consumed, without speaking any word at all.

I pray you my masters tell me, saith shee, Is my Bible a good booke, or no? Yes, we confesse it is, said they, If you allow it to be good, said the woman, why would you have me cast it into the fire? Only said they, to give the Iesuits con­tent. Imagine it to be but paper that you burne, and then all is well enough, doe so much for sa­ving your life, and we will meddle no more with you; you may buy you another when you will.

They spent about two houres in perswading her hereunto, shewing how she might doe a lesse evill, that a greater good might come of it. By the help of God, saith shee, I will never consent to doe it. What would the people say, when they sée me burne my Bible? will they not exclaime and say, yonder is a wretched woman indéed, that will burne the Bible wherein are contained all the Articles of our Christian faith? I will burne my body sure, before that I will burne my Bible.

Then séeing she would in no sort conforme her selfe either to the will of the Iesuites, or to theirs, they caused her to be committed close prisoner, and to be fed only with bread and water, none to be permitted so much as to speake unto her, thinking by this hard usage to overcome her: but all was to no purpose. Being thus long shut up, and no newes heard of her one way or other, every one imagned that they had put her to death privily. Her Iudges were wi [...]ing to have saved her life, sending often a Doctor unte her called [Page 84] N. of Vivendyne to turne her from her resolution; Anno 1593. but he found it too hard a taske for him to effect, of­ten confessing to them that sent him, that he found no cause at all in her why they should put her to death.

But on Wednesday the two and twentieth of Ianuary 1593. shee was condemned to be brought upon a stage set up in the Market place before the towne-house, there to sée her books burnt; then her selfe to be strangled at a post, and her body drag­ged 10 to the dunghill without the City. Shee com­ming to the place, and ascending the Scaffold, distinctly pronounced the Lords Prayer. Then seeing her books burned in her presence, she ut­tered these words with an audible voice; you burne there the word of God, which your selves have acknowledged to be good and holy. Having againe repeated the Lords Prayer, she was stran­gled and died peaceably in the Lord, so as she was nothing altered in her colour after shee was dead, 20 leaving to the Valencians the truth of this sen­tence, Pretious in the sight of the Lord is the mar­tyrdome Psal. 116. 15. of his Saints; and to the Iudges, and her hangmen the Iesuites, a perpetuall corrasive to their consciences.

¶ An English man burned at Rome. 30

IN the yeare 1595. about the end of May there was executed a young man at Rome about the age of five and twenty yeares, who went into the Church of Magdalen, where beholding their beha­viour, being pricked forward with religious zeale and constant resolution, not being able to endure the sight of those horrible impieties which were there committed amongst them: As the Bishop was setting forward to goe on procession, this young man directed his way towards the Church 40 porch: and as the procession began to passe forward he waited till the Bishop came that bare the Host, and in his going forth stepped to the pixe, pluck­ing it out of his hands, threw it to the ground, saying aloud, ye wretched Idolaters, doe ye fall downe to a morsell of bread? The people present­ly fell fell upon the young man; yet without touching his person, notwithstanding the great stirre they made, he was from thence sent to prison to the Ca­pitoll. Complaint being made thereof to Pope 50 Clement the eighth touching all that which had happened; He presently ordained that he which had done it should be burned the same day, for an example and terrour to all his companions. But some of the Popes Cardinals being then at hand, advised that he should be detained rather a while in prison, to be examined by all exquisite tortures, to make him confesse his fellowes, and who had set him on. Having kept him eight daies in prison, no­thing could be drawne from him, but this speech, 60 Such was the will of God.

When they saw they could not prevaile, his in­ditement was framed, and his sentence registred, namely that he was to passe from the Capitoll, naked unto his middle, and to weare on his head the forme of a Devill, or Dragon, his breeches painted all over with flames of fire, and thus be­ing bound in a cart, to be burned alive, being first carried in this manner about the City.

The Patient understanding how he was to be handled, lifting up his eies, implored helpe from 70 the Almighty; and séeing how he was derided of all, continued in his devotion and prayers. He could not refraine from uttering somewhat a­gainst the life of the Cardinals and their associ­ates, who hearing it, began to be in a rage, and that he might no longer bewray their wickednesse, they caused a great gagge to be forced into his mouth, which vexed him more then all the rest, when he testified, saying, How shall I call upon my God? But he patiently submitted himselfe to endure all their cruelties,

In this plight he was brought to Magdalens, where he had cast downe the Idoll, and there one of the hangmen cut off his hand before the doore: at which the patient being not much moved, his hand being set on a pole in the cart, the two tor­mentors made him féele the force of the fire, ta­king each of them a great torch in his hand fla­ming, with which they scortched and burned his flesh through all the city of Rome.

At length they arrived at the place called Cam­pio de Pior, by which time the young man was brought into a pittifull case, being scortched all over his body, all blistered, and bloudy, having nothing whole but his head, which he now and then lifted up.

Being taken downe out of the cart, and séeing the post whereunto he was to be fastened with thrée chaines of yron; he went of himselfe to the post, and falling on his knées kissed the chaines with which he was there to be bound till the sacri­fice should be ended.

But before the fire was put to him, he was ur­ged by Friers and Priests to worship an Idoll which they presented there before him. From which turning away his face, he shewed unto them his constant resolution to the contrary, holding on his Christian course unto the end: which he truly testified; for as soone as the flames of fire seised on him, bowing his head hee quietly yéelded up his soule into the hands of God.

¶ The death and martyrdome of an old man of Millan, who was burned at Rome.

THe same yeare they burned an old man who for a long time had lyen in the Inquisitors cares. He dyed with great constancy and resoluti­on. Before his death he was exhorted and impor­tuned by the Monks to kisse a crucifix. He séeing their impudency, said, If ye take not this Idoll out of my sight, you will constraine me to spit upon it, which when they heard, he was sent away to the fire, and consumed to ashes.

¶ The troubles and persecution of Bartholo­mew Copin, a godly and religious martyr of Christ.

IN the yeare 1601. Bartholomew Copin of the valley of Luserne resorted unto a place called Ast in Piemont, with certaine merchandise, pur­posing to vent the same at a Faire there, which was to be kept the day following. It so fell out, that sitting at supper in the evening with sundry other Merchants, one amongst the rest began to use some spéech about the diversitios of Religions, and there withall spake somethin [...] tending to the disgrace of those of the valleyes of Angrougne and the neighbour villages.

Copin hearing such spéeches cast forth against his Brethren, as he little expected from men of that sort, and also against their Religion, all which tended to the dishonour of God; hee feared lest it should be offensively taken, if he should not make some reply unto those blasphemies which he heard with his, eares, and so answer him who held such a discourse against the religion which himselfe pro­fessed. He who reproved Copin asked, Are you [Page 85] one of Vandois? He answered, yes I am. And Anno 1601. what? said the other, beléeve you not that God is in the Host? No, said Copin. Oh, said the other, sée how false your Religion is? My religion, said Co­pin, is no lesse true then God is God, and as cer­taine as I am sure to die.

The next day Copin was called before the Bi­shop of Ast, who told him that report had béen made to him of some offensive spéeches which hee had used the night past in his lodging: and there­fore 10 it behoved him now to acknowledge his fault, if he meant to obtaine pardon for the same, other­wise he must looke to be chastised according to his demerits.

Copin answered, he had uttered nothing, but that which he was first provided to speake; nor had he said ought, but what he was resolved to main­tain to the hazard of his life. He affirmed that God had bestowed upon him some worldly goods, as 20 also a wife and children, but that he was not so glu­ed in his affection to any of them, but he could bee Luke 9 23. content to forgoe them all, rather than the peace of a good conscience.

As touching his carriage and behaviour, if it pleased him, he said, to make enquiry thereof a­mong the Merchants of Ast, they could all resolve him as touching his honest dealing: who also hee knew would witnesse with him, that hee had wronged none in all that time hee had conversed among them. And inasmuch as he was a Mer­chant 30 traffiquing in and about his lawfull cal­ling, he ought to be dismissed and to be no further molested. For if it were lawfull for Iewes and Turkes to trade in Faires and Markets, and to use commerce throughout Piemont; that favor ought much more to be permitted unto him who was a Christian. And as touching the matter of Religion, whereabout he was accused, he medled not at all therewith for his owne particular, but had questions propounded to him concerning the 40 same by others: in which regard leave was gran­ted him to answer and to yéeld a reason of his faith in any place, to any whomsoever they were that should aske what he thought of the same: yea, liberty was granted even by his Excellen­cy to those of the Valleyes of Vandoyes to an­swer any man to a question demanded; provided that hee? procéeded not to, teach and instruct o­thers.

The Bishop regarded none of these allegations, 50 but commanded he should be put into prison. The next day the Bishops Secretary came to visite Copin, testifying how much good will hee bore him; advising him as a friend, that if he acknow­ledged not his fault, he was in great danger of his life.

Copin answered, that his life was in the hands Psal. 89. 47, 48. of God, and that he would never séeke to save it to the prejudice of Gods glory: also, that he had not above two or thrée turnes to fetch here in this world, before he arrived in heaven; and therefore 60 prayed God so to assist him by his grace, that hee might never leave the strait way which leadeth thereto.

A few dayes after hee was examined by a Monke, who was an Inquisitor, in the presence of the Bishop, who vexed him a long while with his sugred discourse, and by faire words endeavou­red to draw him to abjure his Religion. But Co­pin resisted him still by the holy Scriptures; shew­ing 70 that if he should now be ashamed of Christ Mat. 8. 38. and deny him, Christ might justly be ashamed of him, and utterly deny him before his heavenly fa­ther.

The Monke finished his dispute with this dog­ged farewell, Away thou cursed Lutherane, thou shalt goe to all the Devils in hell; and when thou commest to be tormented amongst those uncleane spirits, then wilt thou remember these holy ad­monitions which wee have tendred unto thee for the saving of thy soule, but thou haddest ra­ther goe to hell, than to reconcile thy selfe to thy holy Mother the Church. It is not long since, said Copin, that I was reconciled to the true Church.

After many violent assaults they gave way for his wife to come unto him, and with her one of his sons, promising them to set him at liberty to goe home with them, if hee would make a­mends for his fault committed, by acknowled­ging the same. They gave his son and wife leave, to this purpose, to stay supper with him in prison: during which time he used many exhor [...]ations ten­ding to patience; albeit the wife should depart to her house without an husband, or the child with­out his father: for be you well assured, said her, that God will be a better husband and a father unto you than ever I was or can be. For his owne part, he said, he was not bound to love wife or children more then Christ: besides, they had cause to rejoyce, and to think him happy, that God would honor him so farre as to beare witnesse to his truth with the losse of his life, and hoped, hee said, that God would be so favorable to him, as to support him under any torments he was to endure for his glories sake.

In conclusion hee commended his sonne and one daughter to his wives care, which God had given them in the married estate; charging her againe and againe to sée them brought up vertu­ously and in the feare of God. He charged his sonne to obey his mother, so should he be made partaker of the promised blessing. He intreated them both to pray, for him, that God would fortifie him against all temptations. And thus having blessed his son, and taken leave of his wife, they were con­ducted out of the prison, and he shut up as hee was before.

The woman and her son were dissolved into teares, sighing and crying out, that it would have moved the stoniest heart to compassion: but this holy man, not contenting himselfe with that hee had said to them by word of mouth, writ unto his wife this Letter ensuing, the originall whereof she hath exhibited to us, written and signed with the hand of the said Copin, the inscription thus fol­lowing.

The Bishop of Ast was somewhat troubled about this his prisoner; for if he had let him go, he feared it would bréed some scandall, and many might thereby be emboldned to open their mouths wide against the Romane religion. Besides, there was a clause in the Contract made betwéene his Excellency and the people of Vandois, which ex­empted those of the religion from offence, in these words; And if it shall fall out that they be asked 40 or questioned withall in Piemont, about the cause of Religion, by any of his excellencies subjects, it shall be lawfull for those of the said Religion to answer without suffering any penall or personall punishment for the same.

Now Copin had a question put to him, in which respect he ought to have béen cléered. But the Bi­shop would by no meanes heare that hee had un­ [...]ustly imprisoned him; and therefore that his death 50 should not be laid to his charge, nor yet that hee should be sent away absolved, he sent the cause of his Endictment to Pope Clement the eighth, to know what should be done with him. We cannot learne what answer the Pope returned to the Bi­shop; but not long after this good man was found dead in prison, not without some apparent suspiti­on of his being strangled there; lest if they had executed him in publique, the people should have been edified by his constancy.

Being dead, he was condemned to bee burned, 60 and therefore having caused him to be brought out of priso [...], they read his sentence openly, and the body was cast into the fire.

Thus have you the last among the Vandois, which is come to our knowledge, that were perse­cuted to death for the cause of Religion.

¶ Mention hath heretofore been often made of sundry bloudy massacres in forreine parts; but wee are now come to fall upon the report of a businesse neerer home, which if the most wise and 70 watchfull providence of God had not timely and graciously prevented, it would have (to the ruine of our Church and state) proved such a massacre, the like whereof the heart of man never concei­ved, the care of man never heard of, nor the tongue or pen of man could scarse ever have utte­ted; namely, at one blow to have blowne up not onely the King, Quéene, and royall posterity, but the whole body of the state in generall. Now as the Church and State had each of them a share in this so admirable a deliverance from God upon the fifth day of November, Anno 1605. so each of them shewed their care, if it might be, for ever to perpetuate the praise of God for the same on the said day; the one by stablishing an act of Parli­ament for it; the other by publishing a forme of thanksgiving the better to effect it; some expression whereof the Reader may hap to méet with at the end of the discourse following.

¶ A discourse touching the manner of the discovery of the Pouder-treason, with the examination of some of the Priso­ners.

WHile this land and whole Monarchy flouri­shed in a most happy and plentifull peace, as well at home as abroad, sustained and condu­cted by these two maine pillars of all good govern­ment, Piety and Iustice, no forraine grudge, nor inward whispering of discontentment any way appearing; the King being upon his returne from his hunting exercise at Royston, upon occasi­on of the drawing néere of the Parliament time, which had béen twise prorogued already; partly in regard of the season of the yeare, and partly of the Terme; as the winds are ever stillest imme­diately before a storme; and as the Sunne blenks often hottest to foretell a following showre; so at that time of greatest calme did that secretly hat­ched thunder begin to cast forth the first flashes and flaming lightenings of the approaching tem­pest. For the Saturday of the wéeke immediately preceding the Kings returne, which was upon a Thursday (being but ten daies before the Par­liament) the Lord Mountegle sonne and hoire to A letter deli­vered to the L. Mountegle the Lord Morley, being in his owne lodging ready to goe to supper at seven of the clocke at night, one of his Footmen (whom he had sent of an er­rand over the stréet) was met by an unknowne man of a reasonable tall personage, who delivered him a Letter, charging him to put it in my Lord his Masters hands. Which my Lord no sooner re­ceived, but that having broken it up, and percei­ving the same to be of an unknowne and some­what unlegible hand, and without either date or subscription, did call one of his men unto him for helping him to read it. But no sooner did he con­ceive the strange contents thereof, although hee was somewhat perplexed what construction to make of it (as whether of a matter of consequence, as indéed it was, or whether some foolish devised Pasquil by some of his enemies to [...]karre him from his attendance at the Parliament) yet did he as a most dutifull and loyall subject conclude, not to conceale it, what ever might come of it. Where­upon, notwithstanding the latenesse and darke­nesse of the night in that season of the yeare, hee presently repaired to his Majesties Palace at Revealed to the Earle of Salisbury. Whitehall, and there delivered the same to the Earle of Salisbury his Majesties principall Se­cretary. Whereupon the said Earle of Salisbury having read the Letter, and heard the manner of the comming of it to his hands, did greatly encourage and commend my Lord for his discre­tion; telling him plainly, that whatsoever the pur­pose of the Letter might prove hereafter, yet did this accident put him in minde of divers adver­tisements he had received from beyond the seas, [Page 87] wherewith he had acquainted as well the King himselfe, as divers of his privy Counsellors, con­cerning some businesse the Papists were in both at home and abroad, making preparation for some combination among them against this Par­liament time, for enabling them to deliver at that time to the King some petition for toleration of Religion: which should be delivered in some such Purpose of the Papists for delivering a petition to his Majesty to crav: tole­ration of reli­gion. order, and so well backed, as the King should be loth to refuse their request. Like the sturdy Beg­gers, craving almes with one open hand, but carri­ing 10 a stone in the other, in case of refusall. And therefore did the Earle of Salisbury conclude with the Lord Mountegle, that he would in re­gard of the Kings absence impart the same Letter to some more of his Majesties Counsell; whereof my Lord Mountegle liked well: only adding this request by way of protestation, that whatso­ever the event hereof might prove, it should not be imputed to him, as procéeding from too light and 20 too suddaine an apprehension, that he delivered this Letter, being only moved thereunto for de­monstration of his ready devotion and care for preservation of his Majesty and the State. And The Lord Chamberlain made privy to the letter by the Earle of Salisbury. thus did the Earle of Salisbury presently ac­quaint the Lord Chamberlaine with the said Let­ter. Whereupon they two in the presence of the Lord Mountegle, calling to minde the former intelligence already mentioned, which séemed to have some relation with this Letter: The tender 30 care which they ever carried to the preservation of his Majesties person, made them apprehend, that some perillous attempt did thereby appears to be intended against the same; which did the more néerely concerne the said Lord Chamber­laine to have a care of, in regard that it doth be­long to the charge of his office to oversée as well all places of assembly where his Majesty is to repaire, as his highnesse owne private houses. And therefore did the said two Counsellors con­clude, that they should joyn unto themselves thrée 40 more of the Counsell, to wit, the Lord Admirall, the Earles of Worcester and Northampton to be also particularly acquainted with this accident: who having all of them concurred together to the re-examination of the contents of the said Letter, they did conclude, that how slight a matter it might at the first appeare to be, yet was it not absolutely to be contemned, in respect of the care which it behooved them to have of the preservation 50 of his Majesties person.

Wherefore they resolved for two reasons, first Thought meet by the Coun­sellors to ac­quaint the King with the Letter. to acquaint the K. himselfe with the same before they procéeded to any further inquistition in the matter, as well for the expectation and experience they had of his Majesties fortunate Iudgement in cléering of obscure riddles and doubtfull myste­ries; as also because the more time would in the meane while be given for the practise to ripen, if any was, whereby the discovery might be the 60 more cléere and evident, and the ground of procée­ding thereupon more safe, just, and easie. And so according to their determination did the said Earle of Salisbury repaire to the King in his Gallery on Friday, being Alhallow day, in the afternoone, which was the day after his Majesties Upon Alhal­low day the Earle of Sa­lisbury, shew­ed the letter to the King. arrivall, and none but himselfe being present with his highnesse at that time, where without any other speech or judgement given of the Letter, but only relating simply the forme of the delivery 70 thereof, he presented it to his Majesty, the con­tents whereof follow.

MY Lord, out of the love I beare to some of your friends, I have a care of your preser­vation. Therefore, I would advise you as you tender your life, to devise some excuse to shift off your attendance at this Parliament. For God and man have concurred to punish the wic­kednesse of this time. And thinke nor slightly of this advertisement, but retire your selfe into your country, where you may expect the event in safety. For though there be no apparance of any stir, yet I say, they shall receive a terrible blow this Parliament, and yet they shall not see who hurts them. This counsell is not to be contemned, be­cause it may doe you good, and can doe you no harme; for the danger is past so soone as you have burnt the Letter. And I hope God will give you the grace to make good use of it: To whose holy protection I commend you.

The King no sooner read the Letter, but after a little pause, and then reading it over againe, hée His Maje­sties judge­ment of the Letter. delivered his judgement of it in such sort, as hée thought it was not to be contemned, for that the stile of it séemed to be more quicke, and pithy, then is usuall to be in any Pasquill, or Libell (the su­perfluities of idle braines.) But the Earle of Sa­lisbury perceiving the King to apprehend it déep­lier then he looked for, knowing his nature, told him that he thought by one sentence in it, that it was like to be written by some foole or mad man, read­ing to him this sentence in it, For the danger is past so soone as you have burnt the Letter, which he said was like to be the saying of a foole: for if the danger was past so soone as the Letter was burnt, then the warning behooved to be of little availe, when the burning of the letter might make the danger to be eschewed. But the King on the contrary considering the former sentence in the Letter, That they should receive a terrible blow at this Parliament, and yet should not see who hurt them, Ioining it to the sentence immediate­ly A terrible blow indeed; at once to have wracked King, Queen, Prince, and Progeny, Re­ligion, State, and all. following, already alledged, did thereupon con­jecture, That the danger mentioned should bée some suddaine danger by blowing up of powder: For no other insurrection, rebellion, or whatsoe­ver other private and desperate attempt could bée committed or attempted in time of Parliament, and the Authors thereof unséene, except onely it were by a blowing up of Powder, which might be performed by one base knave in a darke corner; whereupon he was moved to interpret and construe the latter sentence in the Letter (al­ledged by the Earle of Salisbury) against all or­dinary sence and construction in Grammar, as if by these words, For the danger is past so soone as you have burnt the Letter, should be closely un­derstood the suddainty and quicknesse of the dan­ger, which should be as quickly performed and at an end, as that Paper should be blazing up in the fire; turning that word of As soone, to the sence of, As quickly: and therefore wished, that His Maje­sties opinion for searching of the under roomes of the Parliament house. before his going to the Parliament, the under roomes of the Parliament house might be well and narrowly searched. But the Earle of Salis­bury wondering at this his Majesties commen­tary, which he knew to be so far contrary to his ordinary and naturall disposition, who did rather ever sin upon the other side, in not apprehend­ing nor trusting due advertisement of practises and perils when he was truly informed of them, whereby he had many times drawne himselfe into many desperate dangers: and interpreting right­ly this extraordinary Caution at this time to procéed from the vigilant care he had of the whole State, more then of his owne person, which could not but have all perished together, if this designement had succéeded: He thought good to dissemble still unto the King, that there had béene any just cause of such apprehension; and ending the purpose with some merry jest on this subject, as his custome is, tooke his leave for that time. But though he séemed so to neglect it to his Ma­jesty, yet his customable and watchfull care of the King and the State still bolling within him; And [Page 88] having with the blessed Virgin Mary laid up in Anno 1605. his heart the Kings so strange judgement and construction of it; he could not be at rest till hée acquainted the foresaid Lords what had passed be­tween the King and him in private.

Whereupon they were all so earnest to renew againe the memory of the same purpose unto his Majesty, as it was agréed that he should the next day, being Saturday, repaire to his Highnesse: which he did in the said privy Gallery, and renew­ed 10 the memory thereof, the Lord Chamberlaine The determi­nation to search the Parliament house and the rooius under it then being present with the King. At what time it was determined, That the said L. Chamber­laine should, according to his custome and office, view all the parliament houses, both above and be­low, and consider what likelihood or appearance of any such danger might possibly be gathered by the sight of them: but yet, as well for staying of idle rumors, as for being the more able to discern any mystery, the nearer that things were in readi­nesse, 20 his journey thither was ordained to be de­ferred till the afternoone before the sitting downe of the Parliament, which was upon the Munday following. At what time he (according to this con­clusion) went to the Parliament house, accompa­nied with my Lord Mountegle, being in zeale to the Kings service earnest and curious to sée the event of that accident whereof he had the fortune to be the first discoverer: where, having viewed all Wood and coale found by the L. Cham­berlaine in the Vault. the lower roomes, he found in the vault under the upper house great store and provision of bil­lets, 30 fagois, and coales: and inquiring of Why­neard kéeper of the Wardrobe, to what use he had put those lower roomes and cellars; he told him that Thomas Percy had hired both the house and part of the Cellar or Vault under the same, and that the wood and coale, under which were hidden thirty sixe barrels of powder great and small, be­sides great barres of Iron, péeces of Timber, and massie stones covered over with Fagots 40 therein, was the said Gentlemans owne provisi­on. Whereupon the Lord Chamberlaine, casting his eye aside, perceived a fellow standing in a cor­ner there, calling himselfe the said Percies man, and kéeper of that house for him, but indéed was Guido Fawkes, the owner of that hand which should have acted that monstrous and hellish Tragedy.

The Lord Chamberlaine looking upon all things with a héedfull indéed, yet in outward ap­pearance with but a carelesse and recklesse eye, 50 (as became so wise and diligent a minister) he pre­sently addressed himselfe to the King in the privy Gallery, where in the presence of the Lord Trea­surer, the Lord Admirall, the Earles of Worce­ster, Northampton, and Salisbury he made his report, what he had séen and observed there; noting The Lord Chamber­laines report and judgment of what he had observed in the search. that Montegle had told him, That he no sooner heard Thomas Percy named to be the possessor of that house, but considering both his backward­nesse in Religion, and the old dearenesse in 60 friendship betwéene himselfe and the said Percy, he did greatly suspect the matter, and that the let­ter should come from him. The said Lord Cham­berlaine also told, That he did not wonder a little at the extraordinary great provision of wood and coale in that house, where Thomas Percy had so seldome occasion to remaine; as likewise it gave him in his minde that this man looked like a very tall and desperate fellow.

This could not but increase the Kings former 70 apprehension and jealousie: whereupon he insisted (as before) that the house was narrowly to be searched, and that those billets and coales would be searched to the bottom, it being most suspitious that they were laid there onely for covering of the powder. Of this same minde also were all the Counsellors then present. But upon the fashion of making of the search was it long debated: for upon the one side they were all so jealous of the Disputation about the ma­ner of the fur­ther search. Kings safety, that they all agréed, that there could not be too much caution used for preventing his danger. And yet upon the other part they were all extream loath and dainty, that in case this Let­ter should prove to be nothing but the evaporation of an idle brain; then a curious search being made, and nothing found, should not only turne to the generall scandall of the King and the State, as being so suspitious of every light and frivolous toy, but likewise lay in ill favoured imputation up­on the Earle of Northumberland one of his Ma­jesties greatest subjects and Counsellors, this Thomas Percy being his kinsman and most confident familiar. And the rather were they cu­rious upon this point, knowing how far the King detested to be thought suspitious or jealous of any of his good subjects, though of the meanest de­grée. And therefore though they all agréed upon the main ground, which was to provide for the security of the Kings person, yet did they much differ in the circumstances, by which this action might be best carried with least dinne and occasi­on of slander. But the King himselfe still persist­ing that there were divers shrewd appearances, and that a narrow search of those places could pre­judge no man that was innocent, he at last plainly resolved them, that either must all the parts of those roomes be narrowly searched, and no possibili­ty of danger left unexamined, or else he and they all must resolve not to meddle in it at all, but plainly to goe the next day to the Parliament, and leave the successe to Fortune; which he be­léeved they would be loth to take upon their con­sciences: for in such a case as this, an halfe doing was worse than no doing at all. Whereupon it was at last concluded, That nothing should bée Agreed that the search should be un­der colour of seeking for Wardrobe stuffe missed by Whyneard left unsearched in those houses: and yet for the better colour and stay of rumour, in case nothing were found, it was thought méet, that upon a pretence of Whyneards missing some of the Kings stuffe or hangings which he had in kéeping all these roomes should be narrowly ripped for them. And to this purpose was Sir Thomas Knevet (a Gèntleman of his Majesties privy Chamber) imployed, being a Iustice of Peace in Westminster, and one, of whose ancient fideli­ty both the late Quéen and our now Soveraigne have had large proofe: who, according to the trust committed unto him, went about the midnight next after to the Parliament house, accompanied with such a small number as was fit for that er­rand. But before his entry into the house, finding Faux found at midnight without the house. Thomas Percies alledged man standing with­out the doores, his clothes and bootes on at so dead a time of the night, he resolved to apprehend him, as he did, and afterward went forward to the searching of the house: where after he had caused to be overturned some of the billets and coales, he first found one of the small barrels of powder, and after all the rest, to the number of thirty sixe bar­rels, great and small. And thereafter searching the fellow whom he had taken, found thrée mat­ches, and all other instruments fit for blowing up the Powder, ready upon him, which made him instantly confesse his own guiltinesse, decla­ring also unto him, That if he had happened to be within the house when he tooke him, as hée was immediatly before (at the ending of his worke) he would not have failed to have blowne him up, house and all.

Thus after Sir Thomas had caused the wretch to be surely bound, and well guarded by the com­pany he had brought with him, he himselfe re­turned back to the Kings Palace, and gave war­ning of his successe to the Lord Chamberlaine, and Earle of Salisbury; who immediatly war­ning [Page 89] the rest of the Counsell that lay in the house, as soone as they could get themselves ready, came with their fellow Counsellors to the Kings B [...]d chamber, being at that time néere foure of the clock in the morning. And at the first entry of the Kings chamber doore, the Lord Chamberlaine, being not any longer able to conceale his joy for the pre­venting of so great a danger, told the King in a con­fused haste, that all was found and discovered, and the Traitor in hands and fast bound.

Then, order being first taken for sending for the 10 rest of the Counsell that lay in the towne, the pri­soner himselfe was brought into the house, where in respect of the strangenesse of the accident, no man was staid from the sight or speaking with him. And within a while after the Counsell did examine him; who séeming to put on a Romane resolution, did both to the Counsell and to every other person that spake with him that day, appeare so. constant and setled upon his grounds, as wée 20 all thought we had found some new Mutius Sce­vola borne in England; for notwithstanding the horror of the fact, the guilt of his conscience, his sudden surprising, the terror which should have béen stricken in him by comming into the presence of so grave a Counsell, and the restlesse and con­fused questions that every man all that day did vexe him with; yet was his countenance so far from being dejected, as he often smiled in scornfull manner, not only avowing the fact, but repenting 30 only, with the said Scevola, his failing in the exe­cution thereof, whereof he said the Devill and not God was the discoverer; answering quickly to every mans objection, scoffing at any idle que­stions which were propounded to him, and jesting at such as he thought had no authority to examine him.

All that day could the Counsell get nothing out of him touching his complices, refusing to answer to any such questions as he thought might disco­ver the plot, and laying all the blame upon himself; 40 whereunto he said he was moved only for religion and conscience sake, denying the King to be his lawfull Soveraigne, or the annointed of God, in respect he was an heretique; and giving himselfe no other name then Iohn Iohnson, servant to Thomas Percy. But the next morning being carried to the Tower of London, he did not there remaine above two or thrée daies, being twice or thrice in that space re-examined, and the rack only 50 offered and shewed unto him, when the maske of his Romane fortitude did visibly begin to weare and slide off his face; and then did he begin to con­fesse part of the truth, and thereafter to open the whole matter, as doth appeare by his depositions immediatly following.

¶ The true copy of the declaration of Guido 60 Fawkes, taken in the presence of the Counsellors whose names are under­written.

I Confesse, that a practise in generall was first broken unto me against his Majesty, for re­liefe of the Catholique cause, and not invented 70 or propounded by my selfe. And this was first propounded unto me about Easter last was twelve moneth, beyond the Seas, in the Low-Countries of the Archdukes obeisance, by Tho­mas Winter, who came thereupon with me into England, and there we imparted our purpose to thrée other Gentlemen more, namely, Robert Catesby, Thomas Perty, and Iohn Wright: who all five consulting together of the meanes how to execute the same, and taking a vow among our selves for secrecy (which vow was this, You shall sweare by the blessed Trinity, and by the Sacra­ment you now purpose to receive, never to dis­close, directly or indirectly, by word or circum­stance, the matter that shall be proposed to you to kéep secret; nor desist from the execution thereof untill the rest shall give you leave: after which, being confessed, and receiving absolution, the fore­mentioned received the Sacrament thereupon, by the hands of Gerrard the Iesuite there present) Catesby propounded to have it performed by Gun-powder, and by making a Mine under the upper house of Parliament: Which place wée made choise of the rather, because Religion having béen unjustly suppressed there, it was fittest that justice and punishment should be executed there.

This being resolved amongst us, Thomas Percy hired a house at Westminster for that pur­pose, néere adjoyning to the Parliament house, and there we begun to make our Mine about the 11. of December, 1604.

The five that first entred into the worke were Thomas Percy, Robert Catesby, Thomas Winter, Iohn Wright, and my selfe: and soone after we tooke unto us Christopher Wright, ha­ving sworne him also, and taken the Sacrament for secrecy.

When we came to the very foundation of the wall of the house, which was about thrée yards thick, and found it a matter of great difficulty, we tooke unto us another Gentleman, Robert Win­ter, in like manner with oath and Sacrament as aforesaid.

It was about Christmasse when we brought our Mine unto the wall, and about Candlemasse we had wrought the wall halfe through; and whilest they were in working I stood as sentinel to descry any man that came néere, whereof I gave them warning, and so they ceased untill I gave notice againe to procéed.

All we seven lay in the house, having shot and powder; being resolved to die in that place, before we should yéeld or be taken.

As they were working upon the wall, they heard a rushing in a cellar of removing of Coles, whereupon we feared we had béen discovered, and they sent me to goe to the cellar; who find­ing the Coles were a selling, and that the cellar was to be let, viewing the commodity thereof for our purpose, Percy went and hired the same for yéerely rent.

We had before this provided and brought into the house twenty barrels of Powder, which we removed into the. Cellar, and covered the same with billets and fagots, which were provided for that purpose.

About Easter, the Parliament being pro­rogued till October next, we dispersed our selves, and I retired into the Low-Countries, by ad­vice and direction of the rest, as well to acquaint Owen with the particulars of the plot, as also lest by my longer stay I might have growne suspiti­ous, and so have come in question.

In the mean time Percy having the key of the cellar, laid in more powder and wood into it. I re­turned about the beginning of September next, and then receiving the key again of M. Percy, we brought in more powder and billets to cover the same againe, and so I went for a time into the Countrey till the thirtieth of October.

It was further resolved amongst us, that the same day that this act should have béen performed, some other of our Confederates should have sur­prised the person of the Lady Elizabeth the Kings eldest Daughter, who was kept in Warwick­shire at the Lord Harringtons house, and pre­sently [Page 90] have proclaimed her quéen, having a project of a proclamation ready for that purpose; where­in we made no mention of altering of religion, or would have a vowed the déed to be ours, untill we should have had power enough to make our party good, and then we would have avowed both.

Concerning Duke Charles the Kings second son, we had sundry consultations how to seize on his person. But because we found no meanes how to compasse it (the Duke being kept néere 10 London, where we had not forces enough) wee resolved to serve our turne with the Lady Eliza­beth.

¶ Franco di Franco, an Italian made away in secret in the City of Vilne. 70

IN the yeare 1611. on the day which the papists call the feast of God, a young man of six and twenty yeares old, being miraculously called unto the knowledge of the Gospel, was by certain Ita­lians led through a Church where masse was to be sung, and being urged to shew how he liked it, began to refuse their Idolatry with great zeale, admonishing the people there present, not to suffer themselves to be so seduced by the pompous splen­dor of such vaine superstitions: Telling them, That that God which the Priest held up was no God, as those seducers made them beleeve, but a méere Idoll, séeing it was not able to remove it selfe from one place to another unlesse it were borne. Iesus Christ the Son of God [...]ir Savi­our is to be sought, saith he, at the right hand of God the Father Almighty. This yong man was forth with compassed about with an innumerable company of people, who buffeting him often on the face, and spurning him with their féete, ha­led him thence into the common Gadle of the City.

After many daies the Bishop with sundry other Lords, calling him before them, asked him if the heretiques had not perswaded him to use such words as he had spoken: also whether he had not a resolution to kill the Quéene, or her son the King, or the Bishop of Vilne? The prisoner wisely and resolutely answered, That no man had set him aworke to doe it, but only the zeale he had of Gods glory, his conscience provoking him thereto; holding it impossible for him any longer so suffer that men should attribute that honour to a dead Idoll, which is only due to Iesus Christ his Saviour.

As touching their other demand, his answere was, that Christian Religion teacheth us not to murther men, as Papists have hit [...]erto done in France, England, in the Low-Countries, and elsewhere, as histories doe daily shew. The pri­soner also admonished the Biship of Vilne to for­sake all Idolatry, to preach Gods truth and veri­ty, and cease to be witch the poore people with hu­mane inventions: moreover this faithfull wit­nesse did with much vehemency and constancy maintaine the truth of God, that the Bishop of Vilne dro [...]e out of his Hall his servants and such as came in there to heare him, But he [...]oot little by it, for as they went here and there in the City, they thid it abroad, how in all their lives they ne­ver heard man speake with that courage and boldnesse of divine things to so good purpose, as this young man had done.

Not long after he was againe brought before the same Iudges, and questioned as before: but in stead of yéelding, he [...]ardened his face against the impudency of his adversaries. They purpo­sing to quaile this magna [...]unity, caused him to féele the forture. When he had suffered the ut­most of their cruelty, he was so far off from ab­juring the truth, that on the contrary his confessi­on discovered in him a greater resolution then ever before, being desirous and shewing himselfe ready prest to receive the Crowne of Martyr­dome.

To be short, the last of Iune 1611. which was the same day twelve-month 1610. where in the City of Vilne, being the capitall City of the great Duchesse of Lithuany, at eight of the clock in the morning there happened as terrible a fire as hath béen heard of, at the houre in which the said Bishops and a great company of Iesu [...]es there going on procession: the fire was so vehement, that within the space of seven houres it deboured [...]re thousand [...] hundred and [...] houses; which tell out as the Iesuites supposed, because they spared the Here [...]ues there Where upon the [...] of Christ was cruelly butchered there by the enemies of the Gospell not in a publike place, [...]or by day, though he instantly requested the same at the [...] of his Iudges; but privatly in the night, hi apeare walled about nigh to the Go­vernours house. Before they put him to death, he was [...]ruelly tor [...]ned, and then bound by the executioner to a post, where they drew out his [Page 97] tongue under his chinne; which done, cutting off {Anno 1595.} his head, his body being divided into foure quar­ters, was carried the next day through the City upon so many poles.

¶ An history of three Englishmen put to death at Rome. 10

THrée English men méeting together entered into a conference concerning the state of the Church at that time, complaining that the zeale of Gods glory was wonderfully cooled among men, yea and that even those of the religion were growne but too worldly wise; that satan by little was sowing the séeds of Atheisme every where, by rocking men asléep in the cradle of security: whereupon having in humble manner commend­ed 20 themselves into the hands of God, they deter­mined to take their voyage to Rome, and there to encounter with the adversary of Christ. Thi­ther they came, and after a few daies two of them behaving themselves modestly, did in secret mani­fest to some there the truth of the Gospell, who be­ing betrayed were imprisoned and put to death without any further adoe.

The third, having resolved to act his part in publique, gave over himselfe to suffer all the ex­tremities 30 the wit of man could invent. It came to passe one day that this man, espying the Pope in the middest of his massing devotion, stept quickly unto him, plucked the consecrated Host out of his hands, cast it to the ground, trod it un­der foot, uttering invective spéeches against the Masse and Antichrist. The people in a rage fell upon the Englishman; who, being altogether bruised with their fists and féet, said, you hangman, finde out as many forments as you can, the hand 40 of the Almighty will shew it self the more glori­ously. My soule is resolved to vanquish death va­liantly. He was forthwith bound and set upon an Asse, sixe Torches were lighted, and from stréet to stréet the erecutioners bare them by him, burn­ing therewith his face, mouth, and tongue first; for he had said before to one of the formentors, thou hast no power over my soule, thou wretch, knowest thou not that God understands the voice of my secret thought and complaint. When the 50 flames came overthwart his chéekes, he was heard to cry, Lord forgive these men, for they know not what they doe. After they had burned all his face, put out his eyes, scorched and rosted his body, in the end they consumed it wholly to ashes.

The learned author, who set forth this History in a notable work of his, notes neither the yeare nor the names of these Englishmen. It should séeme to be about the time of Pope Clement the 60 eighth, in Anno 1595. for in his ample discourse he mentions an old wise man le sage veillard bur­ned at Rome (after these English men) who be­fore he went to the fire, spake with such efficacy to his confessor sent unto him (who also left him not till he yéelded up his spirit in the middest of the flames into the hands of Christ) that this con­fessor going the next day into the Pulpit, main­tained t [...]rause of the old wise man with such boldnesse [...]nd zeale, that all the audience hearing 70 him attentively, without any resistance, under­stood his meaning, and never accused the Prea­cher.

But in Lent following, a Capuchin Fryer An admirable Eapuchin. preaching before Pope Clement the eighth called him Antichrist, and during that Lent ceased not to Preach the truth of the Gospell, in the Chaire of postlience, under the robe and habit of a Liar, &c, In the same work my author (saith our Histori­an) mentions another Italian preacher called N [...] Montalchin, who in describing his History hath these words: The Pope perceiving that by exe­cuting the Martyrs thus opénly in the sight of the people, in stead of terrifying them, thereby many were the more encouraged, he resolved with him­selfe thenceforward to conceale his open violence out of the sight of the Sun, and to exercise it ra­ther in the dark, and in the night season. The in­quisitors, who had Montalchin in their hands, were preparing a way to murther him priv [...]ly, ac­cording to the Popes intention.

It so fell out, that the Iaylour smelling the in­justice which these reverend Fathers were devi­sing against the poore prisoner, adventured to give him notice of it, to the end he making his peace with God might fit himselfe for death. This ex­perienced souldier of Iesus Christ plotted a way under hand, by a spirituall wile, to catch the wise in their craftinesse: faining therefore a repentance, he called for his judges, telling them he was now minded to revoke his errors, after they had pro­nounced sentence against him, and would in the hearing of all recant what he had in publike main­tained against the truth.

His Iudges, beléeving he had spoken in good earnest, promised him his life upon those tearmes. Now that they might the rather satisfie their pride, they made known to every one the time and place appointed for his abjuration. All the city assembled together to take knowledge of this so unexpected a novelty. Montalchin was brought and placed on a scaffold for that purpose. He stood there in his shirt, holding in his hands two torches lighted: then silence being obtained, he began to speake to the people as followeth.

Deare brethren and Children, I have a long time taught you such a doctrine as hath troubled you. I am now brought hither to open my minde unto you. Montalchin is a sinfull man and there­fore may erre. But lend me your attention a while, and I will let you sée the difference betwéen both opinions: Thrée words (seul, seule, seulement) will serve to distinguish betwéene falshood and truth.

1 I have taught you that Christ is our only sa­crifice, our only priest, who only was once offer­ed for us. But the Doctors teach the contrary, to wit, that the true body of Christ without bread is offered up for the living and for the dead, that the priests ought daily to offer up the naturall body of Christ really in the Masse.

2 I have taught that in taking the visible signes in the Sacrament, we doe therein by faith only take the spirituall and heavenly bread of our soules.

The Doctors say, that Christs body is taken flesh and blood into the mouth and belly of the com­municant.

3 I have preached that Iesus Christ is our, only mediator, and that by him alone we have accesse unto the Father.

But the Doctors goe further, and will have us to come to the Virgin Mary, making her and all the Saints departed our Mediators and Inter­cessors.

4 I have declared that we are justified only by faith in Iesus Christ, and that the frée mercy of God is the foundation of our salvation.

The Doctors would have us to help out faith and grace by good workes as meritorious causes of salvation.

5 You have heard me preach that Christ only gives grace; and that he alone pardons this.

They affirm that the Church hath a Coffer or Chest, of which the Pope kéeps the keyes, where­into are put the merits of saints, which he largely [Page 98] distributed abroad to such as will buy his pardons Anno 1611. with money.

6 I have told you that the Canonicall bookes of the old and new Testament are the onely ground of our faith and salvation.

The Doctors adde thereto their unwritten ve­rities.

7 I have taught you that after this life ended there are only two places prepared for them to goe unto who die and depart out of this world; 10 One, the place of joy and comfort, the other of torment.

The Doctors say, there are foure, viz. Para­dise, Hell, Limbus, and Purgatory.

8 I have preached that the Pope is not a god on earth, but only a Bishop, and that only of one place, if he therein behave himselfe as a good Bi­ship ought to doe.

The Doctors make him Lord of the world, and the head of the visible Church. 20

9 Now O Christian brethren, Iudge you of that which I have said, and sée if you can discerne Truth from Error; Truth leads you to life, ho­nour, and blessednesse; Error and lies to death and destruction.

Be now either servants of Truth, or the slaves of Error. For my part I will cleave to the truth of the Gospell, and doe condemne all errors and lies: let Montalchin die, and live thou, O Lord Iesus.

Then threw he downe his two burning torches, one this way, and another that way, offering his hands to be tyed and bound, which caused a great tumult among the people. Montalchin was retur­ned back again to prison.

Now Reader, it will not be hard for thée to ima­gine what entertainment he found there: whe­ther or no the Popes Which was to put the martyrs to death, privily, as was noted in the begin­ning of this history. Decrée was executed to the full upon this worthy Confessor, who in the face of the world did so nobly triumph over Satan and Antichrist his Lieutenant.

¶ The true declaration of the Massacres of the Valtoline.

ALbeit that the Grison Lords, being as it were the Sove­raigne Magistrates, had by sundry Decrées, according to the common liberty of the two 10 Religions in those countries, granted, that in the Countrey of Boalez, a place belonging to th [...] territory of Tell, there should be established a Church for the Religion, which should receive the ordinary sti­pend which at that present was allowe [...] [...]o other Churches of the Valtoline, An. 1619. a [...] the mo­neth of May: The Minister of the Church of Tell with the Ministers of Irian and Bruse, together with the assistance of the principall Lords of Ty­rano and Tegly, did méet together in the said place of Boalez, to preach in the Church of that place. But so great was the multitude and con­course of the papists in that place in Armes, that they were of necessity inforced to give over their purpose; and at that time was Master Gauden­tius Taches the Pastor of Bruse al [...] beaten to death with staves, a young man [...] Tyrano was slaine outright, and others very cruelly hand­led by some of these villaines, who by that occasion may worthily be called the first martyrs of the Country of Tyrano.

Within a short time after was murdered a servant of the Governour of that place, where the rage and fury of those murderers grew unto that height, that they did not only contemne the [Page 99] Proclamations published by the Governor, but in Anno 1620. scorn and despite thereof they passed up and downe before the Palace, threatening to kill the said go­vernor, and other principall persons of the Church of France.

Now for that the ordinary Magistrate of that place was not strong enough to represse the outra­ges and insolencies of those villaines, from whom none could bee secure either in their houses or abroad, by reason of the frequent attempts which 10 they made upon the Protestants, the rather for that they bordered néere upon a forraine jurisdi­ction, to which they had recourse when they had committed any mischiefe, the Governour was constrained to make his addresse for justice to the soveraigne Dabe of the countrey, who about the midst of February, anno 1620, granted a commis­sion, wherein were named these commissioners, viz. the Lords Ioachinas Montalta, at this time 20 Vicar of the Valtoline. Iohn Baptista of Salichi, a Doctor of Law, Ia. Rumel a captain, Salomon Candeamma Buoli, Landlaine of Tavos, in the ten jurisdictions, Dieteganus Fertmannus, cap­taine of the Lordship of Meienfield, and Iohn An­drea Miniardino for the Chancellorship, &c.

By these persons, besides the processes framed already by the Lords, Iohn of Cappaul, Gover­nour of Tyrano, and Andreo Enderlino of Tegly, there were againe divers processes framed anew, and upon the imprisonment and revealing of cer­tain 30 persons it was discovered and confessed, there was a resolution made in the same place of Boalty to put to the sword not only the Preacher if he had preached, but also all the people, as many as profes­sed the Gospell, as they could light upon, yea even the magistrate himselfe; besides there were divers persons discovered, and those of principall ranke, who were the authors of those wicked and barba­rous practises, and had promised all possible ayde and assistance unto them. 40

And therefore, the importance of the businesse being of great consequence, it was thought expe­dient, that those Lords, Commissioners, should re­turn to Tavoz, and report to the Court of justice, which there resided, all the businesse which resulted of these processes; which they accordingly did about the midst of April last past. Moreover, they were intreated by divers noble persons of the protestant Church of the Valtoline, that they would with all possible spéed provide a garrison of Grisons for the 50 defence of the vally, in regard that by the foresaid discovery they had great reason to feare a gene­rall rebellion, in case they should procéed to chastise the authors of those tumults and disorders, and that such a businesse could not be, without intelli­gence with the Spaniard, and that so much the more likely, that some certaine yeares agoe such another practise had bin discovered and attempted to be put in practise, as came to passe 1584. and since of late. 60

All these businesses were considered, but it was not possible to put same in effect for many rea­sons, had it not béen that they received intelligence that a number of Spaniards approached néere to the thrée pleves, which were places adjoyning to the Valtoline, by which occasion the Magistrate and governors of the Valtoline were constrained to put a guard néere the trenches of Trahona, and Morben, about the Calends of Iuly 1620, thinking to secure the valley from the forraine enemy: and 70 that guard consisted of the Countrey-men, and dwellers in the Valtoline: & this course wrought no other effect but that the Protestants by this meanes were inclosed in of all sides, that they could not flée away on that side, by the way al­ready concluded, but anticipated within eight daies which was the Sabboth day. The ninth of Iuly 1620, followed the massacre in the countrey of Tyrane and Teglio, as now since in Sondres, a principall countrey of this Valley.