'In fine, after some devout recommendations of their souls to their Saviour, the servants of God, as the cart was drawn away, saluted the people with great signs of joy and alacrity, and so passed to a better world. They hung till they were fully dead, in their clothes, and afterwards were quartered. Many, present, dipped their handkerchiefs in their blood, others gathered up the bloody straws, and what they could get else, going to London with their spoils The catholics then present, many in number, seemed even beside themselves with fervour and zeal ; and into them that were absent, their glorious example hath put life and alacrity. Yea, a protestant said, It would be long enough before any of our religion will die, as these men do, for their faith; they will sooner turn to a hundred religions. Another protestant that fequents our house, "they are the words of father Floyd's MS.," having no handkerchief about him, dipped his glove within and without, and brought it to us, and could not for weeping, relate what the good man said: and added, that many protestants wept, even the sheriff himself. A protestant lord, to my knowledge said, that he was unwilling they should be put to death, and that it would be the cause that two thousand more papists woul rise for these two priests; and that he did not doubt, but when Mr. Ward was executed, a thousand were made papists. It is likely, continues the manuscript, that the seven condemned priests will shortly also be executed, notwithstanding the king's reprieve; for now the parliament proceeds against priests upon their own authority, without asking the king's leave. God give them constancy, and make us partakers of their merits.' So far the manuscript. They suffered at Tyburn, January 21, 1641-2.

BARTHOLOMEW ROE, PRIEST.-O. S. B.*

BARTHOLOMEW ROE who, in religion, was called father Alban, was born in Suffolk, of a gentleman's family, and was, from his infancy, brought up in the protestant religion. After having gone through his grammar studies in his own country, he was sent to the university of Cambridge, and there, or some time, applied himself with good success to higher learning; till going to visit some friends at St. Albans, as providence would have it, he was there told of one David, an inhabitant of that town, lately convicted and cast into prison for a popish recusant, and was desirous to go and talk with the prisoner, making no question but that he could convince him of the errors and absurdities of the Romish tenets; for he had a sharp and ready wit, and a tongue well hung, and withal, was full of conceit of his own religion, and with false ideas of the catholic doctrine. To the prison, therefore, he went, and entered into discourse with the prisoner, upon the subject of his religion; who, though a mechanic, yet was not ill read in controversy, so that he was able to maintain his cause against all the oppositions of our young

• From a manuscript relation, kept by the English Benedictines, at Douay, and other memoirs in my hands.

university man, and even pushed him so hard upon several articles, that Mr. Roe, soon perceived he had taken a tartar, and knew not which way to turn himself. In conclusion, he who came to the attack with so much confidence of victory, left the field with confusion, beginning now to stagger and diffide in the cause.

From this time, Mr. Roe was very uneasy in mind upon the score of religion; nor did this uneasiness cease, till, by reading and conferring with catholic priests, he was thoroughly convinced of his errors, and determined to embrace the ancient faith. And having found the treasure of God's truth himself, he was very desirous to impart the same to the souls of his neighbours; and to this end, resolved to go abroad, that he might enter into holy orders, and so return home, well qualified by virtue and learning to preach to others the true way of salvation. Being therefore reconciled to the church, he passed over into Flanders, and entered himself a convictor in the English college of Douay, as appears by the records of that house: but after some time, he removed from thence to Dieulwart, in Lorraine, where he took the habit of St. Bennet, amongst the English monks of that venerable order; and having given general satisfaction to all the religious, during the year of his probation, he was admitted to his solemn profession; and after some time, presented to holy orders; and being judged by his superiors, thoroughly qualified, by a long practice of all religious virtues, for the apostolic functions, he was sent upon the English mission.

Here, he took great pains in preaching, conferring with protestants, &c., and gained many souls to Christ and his church; his zeal and charity making him proof against all personal dangers, where he thought he could be serviceable to the soul of his neighbour. After some time, he fell into the hands of the pursuivants, and was committed to the new prison, which was then in Maiden-lane, and for a long time, endured great hardships there; till by the mediation of count Gondomar, the Spanish ambassador, he was taken out of prison, and with many other priests, sent into banishment. On this occasion, he went to Douay, to visit his brethren in their convent of St. Gregory, and remained with them, for about four months; and then returned again upon the English mission, where he spent the remainder of his days, and that, for the most part in prison.

For after he had laboured for about two years more, with his usual zeal, he fell a second time into the hands of the adversaries of his faith, and was then committed a close prisoner to a filthy jail at St. Albans, the very place where he had received the first favourable impressions of the catholic faith. His confinement here, was very strict, and his want even of necessaries, so very great, that he verily believed he must have perished through cold and hunger, if a special providence had not interposed. But after about two months, by the means of some friends, he was sent for up to town, where he was something better accommodated, in the prison of the Fleet, and wanted not opportunity, (which he improved to the best,) during the seventeen years of his confinement, of being beneficial to the souls of many who resorted to him; and even for the latter part of the time, he seems to have had the liberty, as several others of his character had in king Charles's days, of going abroad

upon his parole, and attending to the calls of his ministry. In the mean time, he suffered much from frequent illnesses, and violent fits of the stone (for which, he was cut more than once,) all which he endured with invincible patience and courage; being remarkably cheerful and facetious even in the midst of his sufferings. He was also very industrious in animating such as applied to him, to the practice of mental prayer; instructing them in this holy exercise, both by word of mouth, and by several pious tracts, which he translated out of other languages into English, some of which, he caused to be published in print, others he left behind him in manuscript.

About the beginning of the long persecuting parliament, being in conversation with one of his brethren, he told him, that war was at hand, and that it was time to prepare for the conflict: and so it happened; for not long after, he was apprehended, and committed to Newgate, and within a few days, brought upon his trial, at the Old Bailey. The chief witness against him, was a fallen catholic, whom he had formerly assisted. He pleaded not guilty, but boggled at being tried by his country, that is, by the twelve ignorant jurymen, as being unwilling that they should be concerned in the shedding his innocent blood. The judge upon that occasion, told him what punishment the law had ordained for such as refused to plead, which he must look for, if he persisted to decline being tried by his country: Mr. Roe generously replied, My Saviour has suffered far more for me, than all that; and I am willing to suffer the worst of torments for his sake. The judge bid him think better of it, and sent him back to prison.

The next day, after he had taken advice of some grave and learned priests, he was brought again to the bar, and consented, after the example of so many other confessors of Christ, to be tried by his country. The jury went aside, and quickly returned, declaring him guilty of the indictment, viz: of high treason, on account of his priestly character and functions, and the judge pronounced sentence upon him, according to the usual form, which he heard with a serene and cheerful countenance; and then making a low reverence, returned thanks to the judge, and to the whole bench, for the favour, which he esteemed very great, and which he had greatly desired; and how little said he, is this, which I am to suffer for Christ, in comparison with that far more bitter death which he suffered for me! He then acknowledged himself to be a priest, but withal, loudly condemned those laws by which the priests were put to death; and made a proffer, to maintain by disputation in open court, against any opponent whatsoever, the catholic faith, which he, for thirty years, had laboured to propagate, and was now about to seal with his blood. This, the judges would not hear of, but sent him back to prison, wondering at his constancy and intrepidity.

During the few days he remained in prison, between his condemnation and execution, his soul seemed always full of joy at the prospect of his approaching happiness. Great numbers came to visit him, and not one of them who did not depart highly edified with his comportment and conversation. On the day that he was to be executed, he found means to celebrate mass in prison early in the morning, which he did with singular devotion; and after mass made a short, but pathetic ex

hortation to the catholics that were present, giving them his last benediction, and desiring of them, that as often as in passing through the city, they should see that hand of his fixed on one of the gates, or in crossing the water should see his head on London bridge, they would remember those lessons which he had preached to them, of the necessity of holding fast the catholic faith, and of leading a christian and holy life.

When he was admonished that the officers of justice waited for him below, he readily obeyed the summons, and walked down the steps with an edifying composure, and a modest cheerfulness in his looks, saluting the sheriff and all the people with great civility. Then coming up to the hurdle, and taking Mr. Reynolds by the hand, who was already placed on it, and with his usual facetiousness, feeling his pulse, asked him, How he found himself now? In very good heart, said Mr. Reynolds, blessed be God for it, and glad that I am to have for my companion in death a person of your undaunted courage. Then after mutual salutations, Mr. Roe being also fastened on the hurdle, they were drawn to Tyburn, as we have already seen in the acts of Mr. Reynolds.

When they were arrived at Tyburn, they made their last confessions to each other, and after mutual embraces and congratulations, getting up into the cart, they kissed the ropes, and put them on, as their last stoles, in which they were to offer their last sacrifice, and heartily recommended themselves to the prayers of all catholics. We have already taken notice of the last speech of Mr. Reynolds, (during which Mr. Roe was busy in preparing for death one of the malefactors whom he had reconciled in prison,) and how Mr. Roe was hindered by the sheriff from proceeding in his discourse to the people; upon which occasion he begged leave to speak a word or two to the sheriff himself, who told him, he might: Pray sir, said Mr. Roe, if I will conform to your religion, and go to church, will you secure me my life? That I will, said the sheriff, upon my word; my life for yours if you will but do that. See then, said Mr. Roe, turning to the people, what the crime is for which I am to die, and whether my religion be not my only treason. Other particulars relating to Mr. Roe's death, have been recorded above. He recommended his soul to God when the cart was about to be drawn away, and he was observed, whilst he was hanging, to hold for some time his hands joined before his breast, and twice separating them a little, to join them again, as one employed in prayer.

When he was cut down and stripped, in order to be quartered, a certain writing was found about him, perhaps the speech which he designed to have spoke, which the sheriff immediately laid hold of, and is said to have laid before the parliament; but what in particular were the contents of it, we have not been informed.

JOHN LOCKWOOD, ALIAS, LASSELS, PRIEST.*

JOHN LOCKWOOD was eldest son of Christopher Lockwood, Esq., of Soresby, in the county of York, by N. Lassels, his wife, daughter of

*From the Douay diary, by Mr. Ireland, and from the manuscript collections of Mr. Knaresborough.

t

Sir Robert Lassels of Brackenbrough, in the same county. He was born in 1555, according to the Douay diary, which gives him no more than eighty-seven years of age when he suffered; (though I have before me some relations, which affirm that he was at that time, ninety-six years old.) He had exercised his priestly functions, according to the same diary, for the space of forty-four years before his martyrdom: so it is likely he did not retire out of England till late. Whenever it was, we are assured, that he voluntarily quitted an estate of four hundred a year, to devote himself to the service of God and his neighbours, in the quality of a priest, and of a missioner and that at a time, and in a kingdom; where he could look for nothing else in that quality, but labours and dangers, prisons, and death.

He performed his studies abroad, partly in the college of Douay, or Rhemes, and partly in that of Rome; but at Rome, he was made priest, as appears from his answers in court, when being charged with being a Roman priest, he answered, that it was right enough expressed, in his regard, for indeed, said he, I was ordained priest at Rome. He was twice, at least, a prisoner for his faith, before his last apprehension : for I find in Molanus, that he was sent from prison into banishment in 1610; and after his return upon the mission was retaken again, and then brought upon his trial, and condemned to die; but was reprieved, and kept in prison. How long he was confined at this time I have not found, nor how he escaped out of prison; probably he was discharged, as many others were, either upon occasion of the marriage treaty with Spain, or by the interest of queen Henrietta Maria. He was apprehended for the last time at a place called the Wood-end, the house of Mrs. Catenby, a catholic widow, where the old gentleman had lived for some years. He was cultivating his little garden, when the blood-hounds rushed in upon him, and easily secured their prey. The pursuivants were inhabitants of a neighbouring market town, called Thirsk; their leader was one Cuthbert Langdale, and he and another wretch, to fill up the measure of their iniquities, appeared witnesses against him at the York assizes, and took away the life of the good old man.

Some odd circumstances, bordering upon cruelty, which accompanied the commitment and condemnation of Mr. Lockwood, especially considering his great age, and the peaceable and inoffensive disposition of the man, gave much offence, not only to catholics, but to many of the more moderate protestants; insomuch, that even to this day, says Mr. K., his execution is mentioned in Yorkshire with pity and compassion. Though, as for his own part, it appears by the sequel of the story, that he was well satisfied with the orders of Providence, and did even joyfully take up his cross to follow his dying Saviour. He took leave of his friends with a wonderful evenness of mind, and manifestly showed by his behaviour, that he was not under the least concern at his commitment, or the consequences of it.

The great difficulty, was how to convey the prisoner to York. They set him on horseback, but through weakness and age he was not able to ride: Upon this, Cuthbert gets on behind, and supports his feeble charge; but nether would this contrivance long succeed; the poor old man after a short trial fainted away, and had like to have disappointed