home, to recite in the way with his brethren, the little hours of our lady's office and when he was coming home at night, the vespers and complin and that his first care after he came home was to withdraw into his oratory, and to perform his customary devotions of the Jesus psalter, the seven psalms, &c. And such was the sweetness of his temper, and his comportment, that even his protestant school-masters were very fond of him. At length, having tried in vain to pass over to one of the Spanish seminaries, he succeeded better in his attempt to go into Flanders, where he was received in the English college of Douay, in December, 1605. Soon after his arrival at Douay, he received the sacrament of confirmation, in which he took the name of Edmund (which was the name of his uncle, Dr. Arrowsmith,) and by this name he was ever after called. He had performed here a great part of his humanity studies, when he was obliged by the bad state of his health to interrupt the course of them, and to return to his native country; where, in a short time, he recovered, and then his old master sent him back to the college: where, taking the usual oath, he was admitted amongst the pope's alumni; and applying himself close to his studies, though somewhat infirm in health, he made a great progress in learning; but as his too great application threatened a return of his former illness, his superiors thought it most advisable, (he having now gone though a good part of his divinity,) to present him to holy orders, and to send him into England. Upon this he received all the lesser orders in St. Nicholas's church at Douay, June 14, 1612; and before the end of the same year, was advanced to the greater orders at Arras, and there made priest, December 9. And on the 17th of June, of the following year, 1613, he was by Dr. Kellison, lately made president of the college, sent upon the English mission. In England, he quickly recovered his health; and employed his missionary labours in his own country of Lancashire, with great zeal and success. The printed account of his death, published in 1630, gives his character in short, thus: That he was a man of mean presence, but of great innocency in his life, of great sincerity in his nature, of great sweetness in his conversation, and of great industry in his function. And that he was ever of a cheerful countenance, a most probable sign of an upright and unspotted conscience.' A fellow-labourer of his, in a manuscript which I have in my hands, tells us to the same purpose, that though his presence was very mean, yet he was both zealous, witty, and fervent and so forward (in disputing with heretics) that I often wished him, merrily, says he, to carry salt in his pocket to season his actions, lest too much zeal, without discretion, might bring him too soon in danger, considering the vehement sudden storms of persecution that often assailed us. My author goes on: 'Sometimes I have been in his company, when meeting with ministers sumptuously mounted, I have had much ado to keep him from disputing with them; which if he had done, it would have brought the whole company into danger. In his travels on a time he met with a protestant gentleman, who, seeing him of so mean a presence, and understanding by some in company who and what he was, thought he had got a companion that he might freely jest at and play upon but his jests were so retorted back upon VOL. II. 10 him, that he, swearing a great oath, said, I thought I had met with a silly fellow, but now I see he is either a foolish scholar, or a learned fool. : 'He took much pains, says the same manuscript, with possessed persons: yet seldom or never without the help and assistance of some of his brethren and so freed many from their troublesome guests, and did much good.' He laboured about ten or eleven years upon the mission, in quality of secular priest; and then, in 1624, entered into the Society of Jesus, to which he had an inclination, ever after his making a spiritual exercise at Douay, under the direction of a father of that society. He did not go abroad, to make his noviceship, but retired only for two or three months into Essex, which time he employed in a spiritual retreat. 66 He was apprehended (says another manuscript in my hands, dated August 16, 1631,) once before his last apprehension, and imprisoned in Lancaster, but released afterwards upon pardon, with divers others. Probably in 1622, when I find by Mr. Rushworth's historical collections, vol. i. p. 62, the king, in favour of the treaty of marriage then going forward with Spain, released a good many priests, and other catholics out of prison, in and about London; and gave orders to the judges to do the like in their respective circuits." At that apprehension he was brought before Dr. Bridgman, bishop of Chester, where divers ministers were at supper with the bishop; who did all eat flesh, it being in Lent. Dr. Bridgman upon that occasion, made his apology to Mr. Edmund for his eating flesh, saying, he was old and weak, and was dispensed withal. But who dispenses with your lusty ministers there, said Mr. Edmund, for they have no such need? Both before and after supper, the ministers were busy in disputing with Mr. Edmund; and one time divers of them urging him at once, he merrily said to the bishop, Turn all your dogs loose at once against me; and let us have a loose bait.' His second and last apprehension, was a little before the summer assizes, in 1628. What happened to him then, with the whole history of his trial and death, we shall set down word for word out of the printed relation of his martyrdom, printed in the following year. This man "father Arrowsmith" performing his priestly functions in that country, where afterwards he was put to death; and being in labour amongst the rest to reduce a young man to a, course of virtue, who was fallen both from God and himself; and having reproved him in particular for an incestuous marriage, &c., was so hated by him, that coming once to suspect to what place the priest repaired, he found means to discover him to a justice of peace, "Captain Rawsthorn" who despatched his warrant for him, and so he was apprehended upon the highway. He was committed to the common jail for not taking the oaths, and upon vehement suspicion also that he was a priest and jesuit. This happened this last summer, not long before the assizes, at which he was tried. At the entrance whereof, sir Henry Yelverton, coming to know that this prisoner was committed for this cause, and being the judge to whose turn it fell to sit upon life and death, he was not slack in laying hold of the occasion, and therefore, the next morning, being the 26th of August, he commanded him to be brought to the bar. The prisoner at that time, was in conversation with some friends, and the under-keeper and sheriff's men calling him, after a quick and unexpected manner, to go and present himself before the judge, he instantly and cheerfully put himself upon obedience, and said, God's holy will be done and so they conducted him to the bar, amongst the felons and other malefactors. 'As soon as judge Yelverton set eye upon him, he sent to his colleague, "Sir James Whitlock," desiring his assistance in that serviceand the jury being called for this trial, judge Yelverton began, Sirrah, are you a priest? the soldier of Christ, making the sign upon himself of his captain's standard, which is the cross, gave this answer, I would to God I were worthy. The judge repeated the same question, and he made this second answer, I would I were. Then the judge asked him, are you then no priest? to which, the prisoner was silent. So that the judge addressed himself to the jury, and said, you may plainly see he is a priest? I warrant you he would not for all England deny his order. After this a minister, "Leigh or Lee," who sate as a justice of peace upon the bench, and who, formerly had had some knowledge of the priest, went to whisper in the judge's ear; and then, shortly after began to revile the prisoner aloud, declaring what a seducer he was, and that if some order were not taken with him, he would make half Lancashire papists. By way of answer to the minister, "and to the judge, who told him, he could say nothing for his religion," the prisoner humbly moved, that he might be suffered to defend his faith in disputation; which he doubted not, by God's grace, to perform against any who would oppose him. The judge, without delay, stifled this proposition, and told him, that his doctrine could not be maintained; but that belike he desired, that they of his own religion should hear him talk. To which, the prisoner replied, that he would not only defend it in words, but would be glad to seal it with his blood. The judge, told him then, after an insulting and savage manner, that he should die, and see his bowels burn before his face. And you, my lord, said the prisoner, must die too. At this the judge was much enraged, and then, shortly commanded him to answer directly, how he could justify his going beyond the seas, and taking the order of priesthood upon him in disobedience to the king's laws? To which, the prisoner made this reply, if any man can lawfully accuse me, I stand ready here to answer him. But of his being a priest, no proof at all was brought, and only a servant belonging to the justice of peace, who had committed him, was there called, and he swore, that the prisoner persuaded him to be a catholic, and told him, that the religion now professed in England, was heretical; and that it began but in Luther's time and a youth of twelve years of age, or thereabouts, a son of that same justice, affirmed, though without oath, that the prisoner would have withdrawn him from protestancy. : The prisoner hearing this, humbly begged leave to speak; which, being granted, he made a low reverence to the bench, and then began to this effect; my lords, as I was travelling in this country, that very man, as I take it, rushed forth upon me by a hill-side, with a drawn sword in his hand. His apparel was mean, but he was on horseback. I made as much haste from him, as I could, but yet being a weak and sickly man, he forced me, in the end, to the moss, where I left my horse; and then I fled with all the speed I could use, but yet that could not be great, in regard I was laden, both with heavy clothes, and books, and other things. At length, he came up to me at a moss ditch, and struck at me, who had no other defence, but a little walking stick, and a dagger, which I drew not: and as for the stick, he cut it close off at the hand, by the blow he gave me, and did me, withal, some little hurt. I asked him then, what his meaning was? and whether he intended to take my purse and my life? he answered, that perhaps he would: and then I fled again from him, but he took me quickly and then came in this very youth, who hath offered to give evidence against me, and some others also, to assist him. They used me very unworthily, and carried me first, to an alehouse, and searched me to my very skin, after a barbarous manner, and offered some such other indignities as modesty forbids me to relate : but therein, I hindered them the best I could, and that done, they fell to drink and so they consumed nine shillings of my money in one hour; And they told me, the justice himself, by whose warrant they had apprehended me, was there in person but that I know not how to believe. Upon these occasions, my lords, I began to find fault with this man's wicked and rude behaviour, who seemed to be the ringleader of the rest; and I besought him, for Jesus' sake, to give over his disorderly life, his drinking, swearing, dissolute talking, and all those other things, whereby he might offend Almighty God. Upon my word, and upon my life, this, or to this effect, is all that I said to him. Let him look on me, and gainsay it if he can. As for that youth, I deny not to have told him, that I hoped when he came to riper years, he would look better into himself, and become a true catholic: for that, and that alone, would be the means to save his soul: to which, he made no answer at all; and I hope, my lords, that neither they, nor any other, can prove an ill thing against me. 6 Upon this, the aforesaid justice of peace began bitterly to inveigh against him, declaring, how dangerous a seducer he was, and earnestly desiring that he might find no favour: for he feared that if ever he got his liberty again, he would do him some mischief. At this, the prisoner could not choose but smile: and indeed, his usual countenance was inclined that way. But now upon this occasion, both the judges told him, that he was a saucy fellow, who knew no better manners than to laugh and flout at them who sat there in judgment for the king. But he who thought of nothing less than deriding them, besought them not to think so ill of him; and then he cast himself upon his knees, and besought Almighty God to bless the king, the honourable council, that honourable bench, and all that company there: humbly beseeching God of his infinite mercy to confound and root out heresy, that so we might be all of one religion. To this judge Yelverton replied, with much fury, Look you, gentlemen of the jury, how he wishes God to confound us all, and root out heresy, by which he means our religion. The prisoner was then taken from the bar, with command that he should be put in some dark place, where he might have neither light nor company to come to him; and when the keeper said that he had no such place, he was bidden to put him in the worst he had. Whilst he was so remaining there, the judge lost no time in devising what indictment he might form against him. At length he resolved to draw up two indictments against him, one for being a priest and a jesuit, upon the testimony of a mother, and her incestuous son, who wrote thereof to the justice when the priest was first examined; the other for being a persuader in religion, which had no other ground than the oath which the justice's man took against him there at the bar, and the accusation of that youth, who affirmed, (but yet without oath) that he would fain have perverted him from his religion. The business being thus prepared, the prisoner was brought again to the bar, where judge Yelverton was sitting then alone. And when, upon these indictments, and the evidence which before had been given, the jury had found him guilty of high treason, the judge rose up, as the manner is, and asked him, what he could say for himself, why he should not die according to the law. The prisoner did instantly lift up his eyes and hands towards heaven, and made no answer at all to that question; but in silence expected the event. And then the judge gave sentence upon him in the usual form. The prisoner, as soon as he had heard this sentence pronounced, fell down upon his knees, and bowing his head very low, sounded forth, Deo gratias with a loud voice, and then in English, God be thanked. As the jailor was carrying him thence to prison, the sheriff brought express command from the judge, that they should load him with the greatest and heaviest irons in the castle; which being presently put upon his legs, he was not well able to go; but as he could he did, and in the way recited the psalm Miserere, in so audible a voice, that many heard him. When he was come into the prison they lodged him in a little dark hole, where he could not well lie down, but was forced to sit, with leaning only upon a bolster, which was then cast in; and so he continued in his clothes, with heavy bolts on his legs, from Tuesday, about one or two of the clock, till Thursday about twelve, when he was fetched out to execution. He was also watched day and night by three or four of the sheriff's men; for so the judge had commanded, as also that, upon the forfeiture of 1007. no man should be suffered to speak with him. It is thought that in all that time he had taken very little sustenance, if he had any, for some that saw him bowelled, averred, that there was nothing at all in his guts but wind, and not any one drop of urine in his bladder. But notwithstanding this strict charge, that none of his friends should speak with him, the minister, "Lee," who had so bitterly inveighed against him before the judge, had privilege enough to go to him: and so he did once or twice, and his errand was to dispute, but nobody forsooth must be present. The prisoner refused that offer, since it must be subject to that condition; as fearing, lest under colour thereof, some slanders might be raised against him after his death. Some of the minister's disciples seemed to be scandalized, for that he had refused so public an offer of disputation as was made by the prisoner at the bar, and that now he would seek to go and dispute with him in private. But the minister and such as were most confident with him, affirmed against |