study; so that he thought nothing could ever more separate him from the love of so great a Lord.

But that he might, experimentally know, that these extraordinary sentiments of devotion, are a gratuit gift of God, which he gives, and takes away, where he pleases; and that he might have some experience also, of the great anguish and agony of Mount Olivet, as well as of the sweets of Mount Thabor: he was, all on a sudden, deprived of these extraordinary gusts, and of all manner of sensible devotion; and, like his Saviour in the garden of Gethsamane, became sad and sorrowful, even unto death; so that in this extremity of fear, grief, and anguish, he earnestly desired Mr. Floyd's prayers; showing, by the paleness of his countenance, and other outward signs, the inward conflicts of his soul. This storm continued, till the sheriff sent to him, to prepare himself for execution, for that the hour was now drawing on, which message, in a moment, restored a calm to his soul, and filled him with a new joy; so that he went out to meet death with as much cheerfulness, as if he was going to a feast.

When he came forth to the hurdle, which was prepared for him, seeing a vast crowd of people, who were come thither to accompany him to Tyburn, he took that occasion to declare to them, with a loud voice, the sanctity of the catholic faith, and the necessity of holding this faith, in order to eternal salvation. Then, he laid himself down upon the hurdle; and, whilst he was tied down upon it, as well as during the whole way to Tyburn, he employed his soul in prayer. When he was taken off the hurdle, and put into the cart, a minister offered to trouble him with some questions about religion; but the confessor of Christ would not hearken to him. But, after having made a profession of his faith, he declared he was most willing to die for so good a cause, viz: for his faith, and priesthood, and for aiding and assisting by his priestly functions, the souls of his neighbours. He also, upon that occasion, declared, the promise, * or vow, that he had lately made, to enter into the Society of Jesus, as father Moor, expresses it; or that he was a novice of that Society, as Tannerus words it. And at the pronouncing of that holy name of Jesus, the cart was drawn away, and he hanged till he expired. He was afterwards cut down, bowelled, and quartered.

He suffered, April 20, 1602.

1603. In the beginning of this year, one bishop of Ireland, four fathers of the Society of Jesus, sixteen other priests, and four catholic laymen, prisoners in Framingham castle, were transported into perpetual banishment. The names of the four jesuits, were, Christopher Holiwood, Roger Floyd, Edward Coffin, and Ralph Brickly. The sixteen priests of the secular clergy, were, Lewis Barlow, (the first missioner from the seminaries,) Edward Hughs, Christopher Driland, Leonard Hide, Robert Woodruff, William Chaddock, Thomas Haberley, William Clarjenet, Francis Robinson, Thomas Thursley, (these ten went to Douay, to visit their old mother-house, and made some stay

* Sponsionem professus qua se nuper Societati Jesu devoverat. Morus Historia Societ. Provincie Anglicana. Se Societatis Jesu Novitium palam professus. Tannerus, Historia Martyrum Societatis. Prage, 1675, in Pagio.

there,) Thomas Bramston, John Colton, N. Tillotson, John Gray, Robert Barns, and N. Knight. This same year, also, were banished, father William Weston, S. J. after many years imprisonment. Father John Roberts, O. S. B. Father Andrew Bayly, O. S. D. Father Bennet Canfield, O. Cap. Mr. Anthony Wright, and Mr. James West, priests.

WILLIAM RICHARDSON, ALIAS, ANDERSON, PRIEST.

THIS gentleman was the last that suffered death, on account of his priestly character in this reign. Of whom thus writes the protestant historian Howes upon Stow, p. 812- William Anderson, a seminary priest, was drawn to Tyburn, upon the 17th of February, and there hanged, bowelled, and quartered, for being found in England, contrary to the statute of the 27th of Elizabeth. He was born at Vales, in Yorkshire; had his education abroad, first in Douay college, during its residence at Rhemes; from whence he was sent into Spain, in 1592; and then in the colleges of Valladolid and Seville, in the latter of which he was made priest. Other particulars of his apprehension, trial, and death, I have not found.

Five weeks after Mr. Richardson's death, the queen herself was called to the bar, to take her trial, before the Great Judge. She died on the 24th of March, after having reigned forty-four years, four months and seven days.

APPENDIX;

OR,

ADDITIONS OF SOME THINGS OMITTED IN THEIR PROPER PLACES,

THAT HAVE SINCE COME TO MY HANDS.

First, an Abstract of a Letter of Mr. Henry Holland, licentiate of divinity, author of the book entitled 'Urna Aurea,' and one of the eldest sons of the seminary of Douay; from his Latin epistles in manuscript.

THIS letter is written to Mr. Gilbert, and gives an account of the perils, to which the Roman catholic priests were, at that time, exposed in England, and speaks of the apprehensions of several of them, viz.

Mr. Hanse,' says the author, leaving Rhemes, comes to London, and goes to the prison of the Marshalsea, to visit the priests that were prisoners there, and to be instructed by them, how he was to labour in the harvest of the Lord. One of the underkeepers eyes him carefully, and takes notice, by certain marks, that his shoes were made in France. He presently cries out, a traitor, and causes the gentleman to be apprehended upon this, he was committed to prison, and, not long after, underwent a very extraordinary kind of death, being butchered, not half alive, as others are, but perfectly alive and sensible.

'Mr. George Haydock, passing through St. Paul's church-yard, goes into a bookseller's shop to buy some book. He had not been there long before a pursuivant came in; and as these men are a hungry race, and greedy after prey, he immediately suspects Mr. Haydock, and apprehends him.

'Mr. Johnson comes out of the country to London, on horseback: in Holborn he lights off his horse; a pursuivant, who knew him, immediately set upon him, takes away his horse and money, and carries him before the secretary of state: by whom, he was first committed to a close prison; then severely racked; and, at length, put to a cruel death.

'At York, Mr. William Hunt, resting in his bed at midnight, being in a deep sleep, and so suspecting no evil, is apprehended by an armed multitude, &c.

Mr. Bennet, in North Wales, was passing, not far from the house of Mr. Mostyn, a justice of peace, a man not very rigid against catholics, but one that complied with the times. This gentleman espying Mr. Bennet, who had left the road, and went through the corn, rated him for not keeping the highway; and asked him, who he was? whence he came? whither he was going? &c. Mr. Bennet, as he was a man of great simplicity, and fearing God; and no friend of dissimulation, answered all his questions candidly, and acknowledged, that he was a priest. Mr. Mostyn was concerned to find how the case stood; but his servant being about him, he thought himself obliged to conceal his concern, and to commit Mr. Bennet to prison. From this prison, he was afterwards translated to another, where he was hung up to the beam by his hands, in iron manacles, and suffered great torments with a generous courage. Afterwards he was sent into banishment, and entered into the Society of Jesus, in which he piously slept in the Lord.

Mr. John Mundyn, going on the high road from Windsor to London, meets, near Hounslow, with counsellor Hammond, a justice of peace; and being very well known to him, and not able to decline him, courteously salutes him; I am glad to meet you, Mundyn, said Hammond; I know you are a papist, and always was; and, moreover, I suspect that you are a priest; wherefore yield yourself up; you are my prisoner. Mr. Mundyn argues, that Hammond had no authority to stop him on the highway; that if he was a justice of the peace, he was not so in Buckinghamshire, where they then were, but only in Dorsetshire, &c. But his remonstrances are all in vain, the cruel man is not moved to relent: he makes him his prisoner, and causes him to be sent up to London, where he was afterwards martyred.

In Hampshire, Mr. Hemerford was obliged to stay in a certain village, whilst the smith put on a shoe upon one of his horse's feet: in the mean time, a malicious heretic passing by, and considering the man, affirmed, that he was the priest that had preached in the barn; and, upon this account, presently apprehened him: so Mr. Hemerford, in a moment, lost both his horse and his liberty and afterwards, for being a priest, was put to death, and obtained, at London, the crown of martyrdom.

'Mr. Adams, a priest in Winchester, stepping out of the house into the street, was presently apprehended, and accused, though falsely, of having preached in a barn, &c., at London; Mr. Owen was at table : Mr. Stransham at the altar; but neither the one nor the other could escape the hands of the ungodly. The same fortune Mr. Rishton met within the city, and Mr. Worthington without. Mr. Rishton's apprehension was in this manner; he was in a certain inn, and meeting there with a countryman of his, a Lancashire gentleman, he began to treat with him about the affairs of his soul; yet so that he first sent to father Parsons, the jesuit, desiring him to come, who could do that work better than himself. In the mean time, the gentleman whispers in his servant's ear, to go to such a pursuivant, and to bid him come with all speed, and apprehend the man that he should see talking with him. The pursuivant, greedy of lucre, flies thither in a moment, and seizes upon Mr. Rishton; in the mean time father Parsons comes up, and

looking in at the door, sees Mr. Rishton with the pursuivant, and perceiving the imminent danger, instead of going in, walks down the street, and, as God would have it, escapes, But Mr. Rishton was carried before a justice, and committed to the King's-bench, &c.

'Mr. Anderton, and his companion," Mr. Marsden," sailed from France to England, and had scarce set foot on shore, before they fell into the hunters' nets. Soon after they were brought to the bar, where the judge, considering that they had been apprehended immediately upon their coming to land, before they could treat with any one about religion, and pitying their case, had a mind to deliver them from the danger of the law, by furnishing them with the following plea; I suppose, said he, gentlemen, you came out of France, not with a design of coming into England, but of going into Scotland; and that you were drove into England by a storm, against your will? tell me, is not this the truth? God forbid, said they, my lord, that we should tell a lie for the matter. Our lives would be a burthen to us, if we should save them by an untruth. We were sent hither to preach truth; and we must not, at our first setting out, give in to a lie. The truth is, we are both priests; and we set out from France, with a design of coming for England, that we might here exercise our priestly functions, and reconcile the souls of our neighbours to God and his church. And if we are not suffered here to serve our neighbours' souls, at least we will take care not to hurt our own. We had no thoughts of Scotland, but only of England. Nay then, said the judge, the Lord have mercy on you; for, by the laws, you are dead men. So sentence was pronounced upon them, by which they were condemned to die; and they suffered the usual butchery with constancy and intrepidity, and so obtained a noble martyrdom. The sea was more safe to them than the land, which also Mr. John Hart and Mr. Bishop experienced, who having escaped all the dangers of the sea, met in the very haven, not indeed with shipwreck, but with bands and prisons; which, after they had suffered there for a while, they were sent up to Londoa to new prisons.

And since we are returned to London, I cannot pass over in silence Mr. Ailworth, a young Irish gentleman, of a singular zeal for religion, who had hired a house, not in any street, but among the gardens, commodious enough for preaching and mass, where the catholics sometimes met in a pretty good number, to the divine service, much to his content and satisfaction, who set more value upon what belonged to the honour and worship of God, than upon any earthly toys. But the thing became known, and reached the ears of Fleetwood, the recorder of the city. This furious man, with his constables, came to the house, and finding Mr. Ailworth in his chamber, carried him away to prison, even to the very worst prison in London. And in the way, being displeased at some word that the gentleman spoke, gave this most constant confessor a most violent blow on his head; then ordered him to be put into a filthy dungeon, destitute of all things, strictly forbidding any one to be admitted to visit him, or give him any thing; so the young gentleman, in eight days time, was brought to his end, by the stench and filth of the place.' So far Mr. Holland.