prived of that crown, which he had now so near a prospect of, as he often professed with tears, to those who had access to him. And when some suggested to him how he might have an opportunity of making his escape, he would not make use of it; choosing rather to obey a voice within, which said to him, noli fugere, don't run away.

When he was called forth to the hurdle, he obeyed the summons with a remarkable courage and cheerfulness and laid himself down, more like one that was going to his marriage-feast, than to suffer a cruel and ignominious death. There was a great concourse of people, and many of the nobility and gentry at the place of execution; amongst the rest, the earl of Exeter, one of the privy-council: who endeavoured to persuade the confessor to save his life, by taking the oath; alledging that several priests had taken it, and that many more looked upon it a disputable matter, in which faith was not concerned; why, therefore, should he be so stiff, and not rather embrace the offer of the king's clemency, by conforming as others had done. Father Thomas replied, My lord, if the case be so doubtful and disputable, how can I, in conscience, swear to what is doubtful, as if it were certain? No, I will not take the oath, though I might have a thousand lives.

Upon this, being ordered to get up into the cart, he cheerfully complied, and kissed the gallows, as the happy instrument which was to send him to heaven. He then professed that he was a priest, and a member of the Society of Jesus, though the least and most unworthy : that he had not indeed acknowledged this at his trial, not out of any fear of death, but that he might not be his own accuser, or put his judges under a necessity of condemning him against their conscience : that he had spent the nine years of his missionary labours in assisting and comforting the persecuted catholics, and in bringing back the sheep that were gone astray, to the fold of Christ; but as for any treasonable designs against the king or kingdom, he had never entertained any, nor ever been conscious to any. A minister that was there, asked him, If there was no equivocation in what he said? The confessor replied, No, sir; for if I had been minded to use equivocations, I might have taken the oath and saved my life: which oath I did not decline out of any unwillingness to profess my allegiance to the king, which I offered to do, and for that end, produced at my trial, a form of an oath of allegiance, drawn up according to what was looked upon satisfactory in the days of our forefathers, to which I was willing to swear: but this new oath is so worded, as to contain things quite foreign to allegiance, to which in my opinion, no catholic can, with a safe conscience, swear.

Then crossing his hands before his breast, and lifting up his eyes to heaven, he said, He looked upon this as the most happy day of his life, and himself most happy in being to die in so good a cause: and heartily prayed to God, that he would turn away his wrath from this nation, and not lay his death to their charge: and, in particular, that he would forgive all those who had any ways concurred to his condemnation, and that he might one day see them happy with him in heaven. After which, he recited the Lord's prayer, the Hail Mary, and the creed. Then having begun the hymn Veni Creator, when he came to those

words, sermone ditans guttura, the cart was drawn away, and he was left hanging, till he had given up his pious soul into the hands of his Creator. For the people that were present, and my lord Exeter, in particular, would not permit the rope to be cut, till he was quite dead. He suffered at Tyburn, June 23, 1608, Anno Ætatis 34. His execution is mentioned by Howes upon Stow, Collier, Salmon, &c.

The year 1609, passed without the shedding of any catholic blood for religious matters: a thing the more to be remarked, because the like had not happened since the year 1580.

1610. In February, 1610, I find in B. W's. manuscript, concerning the English Benedictine congregation, that F. Sigebert Buckley, the last surviving monk of the abbey of Westminster, departed this life, in the 93d year of his age: after having endured forty years persecution for the catholic faith, always shut up in one prison or another.

ROGER CADWALLADOR, PRIEST.*

THIS gentleman, who was commonly known upon the mission by the name of Rogers, was born at Stretton, near Sugeres, "Sugwas, in Herefordshire. His father was a yeoman, a man of substance, and Roger was his eldest son and heir; but yet he could by no means, be brought to follow the world, but even from a boy, was very assiduous in serving God, and learning his book, wherein, he surpassed most of his school-fellows. His desire of improving himself in religion and study, carried him beyond the seas, where he entered himself a student in Douay college, at that time residing at Rhemes. Of this college, he was an Alumnus, and having made great progress in learning and virtue, he received there most of his orders. For I find him in the Douay diary, ordained sub-deacon at Rhemes, Sept. 21, 1591, and deacon, Feb. 24, 1592. In the August following, he was sent into Spain, to the college lately erected at Valladolid, where he finished his studies, and was made priest; and from thence, returned home, to labour in the vineyard of his Lord, about the year 1594.

He is taken notice of by Dr. Pits, for his rare genius for learning, and great knowledge in the Greek tongue, out of which, he translated Theodoret's Philotheus, or the lives of the fathers of the Syrian deserts, which work of his is extant in print. He had also, a great talent for controversy. His labours in England, were employed in his own country of Herefordshire, where, he deservedly gained the character of a pious, prudent, and zealous missioner: and God was pleased to bless his labours with great success, in winning over many souls to Christ and his church; especially among the poorer sort, for whose comfort, and spiritual assistance, he spared no pains, night or day; usually per

* From two manuscript relations sent me from Douay; gathered partly out of his own letters, partly from the testimony of the reverend Mr. John Stevens, a neighbouring missioner, and other unexceptionable witnesses. Item, from the Douay diary, and from Dr. Pits, de scriptoribus, &c., in Rog. Cadwallador.

forming his journies on foot. And this apostolic kind of life he continued for about 16 years.

This venerable priest, says my manuscript relation of his sufferings, was apprehended on Easter day, 1610, "at the house of Mrs. Winefride Scroope, widow" within eight miles of Hereford, by James Prichard, the under sheriff of that county; and brought, first, to the high sheriff, and then to the bishop of the diocese, "Robert Bennet," who, having long thirsted after his innocent blood, seemed extraordinarily glad of his apprehension.

In his examination before the bishop, being asked what he was! He answered, That this was not a fit interrogation: alledging, that a man should, by right, rather be examined what he had done or committed and in that, also, he craved the favour which all just laws allow, that they would not go about to wrest matters from himself against himself, having not so much as one accuser, to charge him with any thing. This answer not serving his turn, and the bishop still continuing to beg him upon his conscience, to confess whether he was a priest he acknowledged, (without more ado,) both his priesthood and his right name. Adding, That he presumed his being a priest, would make nothing against him; especially, in the presence of a bishop, whom it did greatly concern to maintain and defend the dignity of priesthood. For, my lord, said he, either you must yield yourself properly to be a priest, or I can safely prove that you are no bishop. Which, he offered to make good, if they would bring him books, plentifully citing contents out of the fathers, fit for his purpose. But the books, they would not bring, to decide the contention. Only the bishop seemed much to insist upon this one point, that Christ was the only sacrificing priest of the New Testament, in that proper signification (of the name priest,) which is not common to all christians; so to free himself from being a priest. Which made the blessed martyr return him this witty answer. Make that good, I pray you, my lord, for so you will prove that I am no more a priest than other men, and consequently, no traitor or offender against your law. To which, the bishop being able to make no solid reply; one Holkins, that was sent to cover the bishop's disgrace, spoke to this effect. I assure you, my lord, it is strange to see the alacrity and courage of those kind of men; I heard his majesty with his own mouth say in this present parliament, that the number and courage of this kind of men is so great, that if I should, (quoth he,) put them to death, as often as they fall into my hands, I believe I should never have done.

Then was the disputation turned into a scoffing, at his not shaving his head and beard, and at his going like a layman in attire: although his dress were not so light, or any way so fantastical as might give any just cause of offence; yet they spared not to make sport with a little silk point which tied his hose about his knee. Lastly, the bishop being angry to see his answers so little regarded, (the good man ever smiling to see them so forward,) thought it best to use the force of his authority, where his arguments seemed feeble. Whereupon, asking whether he would take the oath of allegiance, and he refusing it, he

committed him to prison, giving his keeper strict orders to look narrowly to him; thundering out threats against him, in case he should

escape.

The charge was not more strictly given by the bishop, than put in execution by the keeper, who loaded him with irons, both night and day. At first he made him wear a great bolt, besides the heaviest shackles the prison could afford: and when after a while, by reason of his sickness, (as it may seem,) it was thought fit to ease him of his bolt; yet they would never take away his shackles, but added now and then, another pair. Insomuch that when he was to be removed from Hereford jail to Leominster, though he was forced to go all the way on foot, feeble and weak as he was with bad usage and sickness together, yet could he not obtain to be free from shackles in his journey; but it was thought a sufficient favour that a boy was permitted to go by his side, to bear up by a string the weight of some iron-links which were wired to the shackles.

Besides this, when he was condemned to die, which was some months before his martyrdom, he was chained every night to the bed-post with an iron-chain. Yea, one day the keeper led him into an obscure and loathsome place, and left him there chained to a post, where he had no place to sit or ease himself, and no more liberty to walk than the length of the chain allowed him, which was but two yards at most: where he continued till the keeper's wife, moved with compassion, came in her husband's absence to let him loose.

In his sickness, the keeper and his wife had no care to afford him any comfort; but rather were vigilant to bar him of all solace that catholics did offer: insomuch that when his brother's wife came to bring him some small thing-she could not have access, but was reviled by the keeper's wife with many opprobrious words, as his concubine, among other bad terms, protesting she would fling what was provided out into the streets, rather than the sick priest should have it. Yea, instead of human comfort, they daily heaped upon him grievances; sometimes giving out that he had yielded, and promised to recant if he might have a benefice. All which, the good man did patiently endure, though he never gave the least occasion to such malicious slanders.

In the extremity of his sickness, he was summoned on a sudden to a second dispute before the bishop; and made to rise out of his bed all in a sweat, so that he swooned before he could get out of doors: and yet in that distress he was brought to dispute with the bishop and his doctors, who were prepared for him with a cart-load of books, observing, as may be thought, on purpose this time of advantage over him. He answered little; but being pressed about the marriage of priests, could not forbear saying; Their ministers might marry as well as other laymen; and if the catholic church did debar her clergy from marriage, why should that grieve them, whom the prohibition did no ways concern? And though the bishop made some appearance of being displeased at his man, for bringing him before him in that

plight; yet when the good man pleaded his indisposition he was not regarded.'

Mr. Cadwallador was condemned barely on account of his priestly character, no other treason being laid to his charge. He wrote several letters in prison, one to Mr. Birket the archpriest. Another to Mr. John Stevens, a neighbouring missioner, recommending to them the care of his flock. Other letters also of much edification, he wrote to other friends, in the midst of manifold sufferings. In one of which, written, as it seems, when he was now near his crown, he delivers himself thus:

Comfort yourselves, my friends, in this, that I die in an assurance of salvation; which if you truly love me, as you ought to do, should please you better, than to have me alive a little while among you, for your content, and then to die with great uncertainty, either to be saved or damned. If the manner of my death be shameful, yet not more than my Saviour's was: if it be painful, yet not more than my Saviour's was. Only have you care to persevere in God's true faith and charity; and then we shall meet again to our greater comfort, that shall never end. Fare ye well.'

The particulars of his death are thus related in the same manuscript, which we have quoted above. The long-desired day wherein he was to suffer, being come at last, he and his bed-fellow Mr. Powel, a laycatholic prisoner, left their beds by three o'clock in the morning, and were on their knees in prayer till eight; at which time, and all the day after, the resort of people that came to see him, was very great; whose streaming tears, being only strangers to him, gave evident signs of their compassion; many of them protesting, that they would undertake to go barefoot many a hundred miles to do him any good: for which their good-will, he courteously and kindly thanked them: acquainting them how glorious a thing he looked upon it to die for Christ and the cathofaith.

Having spent most of the morning in spiritual preparation, (for his end,) about ten o'clock he took some corporal food, viz: a little comfortable broth; and calling for a pint of claret-wine and sugar, on occasion of a friend that was come to visit him, he made use of the words of bishop Fisher, in the like case, as he said, when he was taking a cordial, before the like combat of death; fortitudinem meam ad te domine custodiam, Saying in English, he took it to make himself strong to suffer for God. Then, as if he had been to go to a feast, he put on his wedding garment, (viz: a new suit of clothes,) which a friend had provided for him, from top to toe, whom he requited with a good and godly exhortation, counselling him to persevere till death in the catholic faith, and giving him directions to bestow twelve pence of his money on the porter, for he kept two shillings in his own pocket to bestow on him that was to lead and drive the horse, when he went to execution.

Some half an hour before the time of his suffering, the keeper, for a farewell, used all his art and cunning to make him distempered with passion, but found him so well fenced with patience, that it was all in vain. So he remained in readiness, expecting the coming of the sheriff