CHAPTER I.
AN EXECUTION IN MANCHESTER, AT THE BEGINNING OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
More than two hundred and thirty-five years ago, or, to speak withgreater precision, in 1605, at the latter end of June, it was rumouredone morning in Manchester that two seminary priests, condemned at thelate assizes under the severe penal enactments then in force against thePapists, were about to suffer death on that day. Attracted by thereport, large crowds flocked towards the place of execution, which, inorder to give greater solemnity to the spectacle, had been fixed at thesouthern gate of the old Collegiate Church, where a scaffold waserected. Near it was a large blood-stained block, the use of which willbe readily divined, and adjoining the block, upon a heap of blazingcoals, smoked a caldron filled with boiling pitch, intended to receivethe quarters of the miserable sufferers.
The place was guarded by a small band of soldiers, fully accoutred incorslets and morions, and armed with swords, half-pikes, and calivers.Upon the steps of the scaffold stood the executioner,--a square-built,ill-favoured personage, busied in arranging a bundle of straw upon theboards. He was dressed in a buff jerkin, and had a long-bladed,two-edged knife thrust into his girdle. Besides these persons, there wasa pursuivant,--an officer appointed by the Privy Council to make searchthroughout the provinces for recusants, Popish priests, and otherreligious offenders. He was occupied at this moment in reading over alist of suspected persons.
Neither the executioner nor his companions appeared in the slightestdegree impressed by the butcherly business about to be enacted; for theformer whistled carelessly as he pursued his task, while the latterlaughed and chatted with the crowd, or jestingly pointed theirmatchlocks at the jackdaws wheeling above them in the sunny air, orperching upon the pinnacles and tower of the neighbouring fane. Not sothe majority of the assemblage. Most of the older and wealthier familiesin Lancashire still continuing to adhere to the ancient faith of theirfathers, it will not be wondered that many of their dependents shouldfollow their example. And, even of those who were adverse to the creedof Rome, there were few who did not murmur at the rigorous system ofpersecution adopted towards its professors.
At nine o'clock, the hollow rolling of a muffled drum was heard at adistance. The deep bell of the church began to toll, and presentlyafterwards the mournful procession was seen advancing from themarket-place. It consisted of a troop of mounted soldiers, equipped inall respects like those stationed at the scaffold, with their captain attheir head, and followed by two of their number with hurdles attached totheir steeds, on which were tied the unfortunate victims. Both wereyoung men--both apparently prepared to meet their fate with firmness andresignation. They had been brought from Radcliffe Hall--an old moatedand fortified mansion belonging to a wealthy family of that name,situated where the close, called Pool Fold, now stands, and thenrecently converted into a place of security for recusants; the two otherprisons in Manchester--namely, the New Fleet on Hunt's Bank, and thegaol on Salford Bridge,--not being found adequate to the accommodationof the numerous religious offenders.
By this time, the cavalcade had reached the place of execution. Thesoldiers drove back the throng with their pikes, and cleared a space infront of the scaffold; when, just as the cords that bound the limbs ofthe priests were unfastened, a woman in a tattered woollen robe, with ahood partially drawn over her face,--the features of which, so far asthey could be discerned, were sharp and attenuated,--a rope girded roundher waist, bare feet, and having altogether the appearance of a sisterof Charity, sprang forward, and flung herself on her knees beside them.
Clasping the hem of the garment of the nearest priest, she pressed it toher lips, and gazed earnestly at him, as if imploring a blessing.
"You have your wish, daughter," said the priest, extending his arms overher. "Heaven and our lady bless you!"
The woman then turned towards the other victim, who was audibly recitingthe _Miserere_.
"Back, spawn of Antichrist!" interposed a soldier, rudely thrusting heraside. "Don't you see you disturb the father's devotions? He has enoughto do to take care of his own soul, without minding yours."
"Take this, daughter," cried the priest who had been first addressed,offering her a small volume, which he took from his vest, "and fail notto remember in your prayers the sinful soul of Robert Woodroofe, abrother of the order of Jesus."
The woman put out her hand to take the book; but before it could bedelivered to her, it was seized by the soldier.
"Your priests have seldom anything to leave behind them," he shouted,with a brutal laugh, "except some worthless and superstitious relic of asaint or martyr. What's this? Ah! a breviary--a mass-book. I've too muchregard for your spiritual welfare to allow you to receive it," he added,about to place it in his doublet.
"Give it her," exclaimed a young man, snatching it from him, and handingit to the woman, who disappeared as soon as she had obtained possessionof it.
The soldier eyed the new-comer as if disposed to resent theinterference, but a glance at his apparel, which, though plain, and of asober hue, was rather above the middle class, as well as a murmur fromthe crowd, who were evidently disposed to take part with the young man,induced him to stay his hand. He, therefore, contented himself withcrying, "A recusant! a Papist!"
"I am neither recusant nor Papist, knave!" replied the other, sternly;"and I counsel you to mend your manners, and show more humanity, or youshall find I have interest enough to procure your dismissal from aservice which you disgrace."
This reply elicited a shout of applause from the mob.
"Who is that bold speaker?" demanded the pursuivant from one of hisattendants.
"Humphrey Chetham of Crumpsall," answered the man: "son to one of thewealthiest merchants of the town, and a zealous upholder of the truefaith."
"He has a strange way of showing his zeal," rejoined the pursuivant,entering the answer in his note-book. "And who is the woman hebefriended?"
"A half-crazed being called Elizabeth Orton," replied the attendant."She was scourged and tortured during Queen Elizabeth's reign forpretending to the gift of prophecy, and was compelled to utter herrecantation within yonder church. Since then she has never opened herlips."
"Indeed," exclaimed the pursuivant: "I will engage to make her speak,and to some purpose. Where does she live?"
"In a cave on the banks of the Irwell, near Ordsall Hall," replied theattendant. "She subsists on the chance contributions of the charitable;but she solicits nothing,--and, indeed, is seldom seen."
"Her cave must be searched," observed the pursuivant; "it may be thehiding-place of a priest. Father Campion was concealed in such anotherspot at Stonor Park, near Henley-on-Thames, where he composed his'_Decem Rationes_;' and, for a long time, eluded the vigilance of thecommissioners. We shall pass it in our way to Ordsall Hall to-night,shall we not?"
The attendant nodded in the affirmative.
"If we surprise Father Oldcorne," continued the pursuivant, "and canprove that Sir William Radcliffe and his daughter, both of whom aredenounced in my list, are harbourers and shelterers of recusants, weshall have done a good night's work."
At this moment, an officer advanced, and commanded the priests to ascendthe scaffold.
As Father Woodroofe, who was the last to mount, reached the uppermoststep, he turned round and cried in a loud voice, "Good people, I takeyou all to witness that I die in the true Catholic religion, and that Irejoice and thank God with all my soul, that he hath made me worthy totestify my faith therein by shedding my blood in this manner." He thenadvanced towards the executioner, who was busied in adjusting the cordround his companion's throat, and said, "God forgive thee--do thineoffice quickly;" adding in a lower tone, "_Asperge me, Domine; Domine,miserere mei!_"
And, amid the deep silence that ensued, the executioner performed hishorrible task.
The execution over, the crowd began to separate slowly, and variousopinions were expressed respecting the revolting and sanguinaryspectacle just witnessed. Many, who condemned--a
nd the majority didso--the extreme severity of the laws by which the unfortunate priestshad just suffered, uttered their sentiments with extreme caution; butthere were some whose feelings had been too much excited for prudence,and who inveighed loudly and bitterly against the spirit of religiouspersecution then prevailing; while a few others of an entirely oppositepersuasion looked upon the rigorous proceedings adopted against thePapists, and the punishment now inflicted upon their priesthood, as ajust retribution for their own severities during the reign of Mary. Ingeneral, the common people entertained a strong prejudice against theCatholic party,--for, as it has been shrewdly observed, "they must havesome object to hate; heretofore it was the Welsh, the Scots, or theSpaniards, but now in these latter times only the Papists;" but inManchester, near which, as has been already stated, so many old andimportant families, professing that religion, resided, the case waswidely different; and the mass of the inhabitants were favourablyinclined towards them. It was the knowledge of this feeling that inducedthe commissioners, appointed to superintend the execution of theenactments against recusants, to proceed with unusual rigour in thisneighbourhood.
The state of the Roman Catholic party at the period of this history wasindeed most grievous. The hopes they had indulged of greater tolerationon the accession of James the First, had been entirely destroyed. Thepersecutions, suspended during the first year of the reign of the newmonarch, were now renewed with greater severity than ever; and thoughtheir present condition was deplorable enough, it was feared that worseremained in store for them. "They bethought themselves," writes BishopGoodman, "that now their case was far worse than in the time of QueenElizabeth; for they did live in some hope that after the old woman'slife, they might have some mitigation, and even those who did thenpersecute them were a little more moderate, as being doubtful what timesmight succeed, and fearing their own case. But, now that they saw thetimes settled, having no hope of better days, but expecting that theuttermost rigour of the law should be executed, they became desperate:finding that by the laws of the kingdom their own lives were notsecured, and for the carrying over of a priest into England it was noless than high treason. A gentlewoman was hanged only for relieving andharbouring a priest; a citizen was hanged only for being reconciled tothe Church of Rome; besides, the penal laws were such, and so executed,that they could not subsist. What was usually sold in shops and usuallybought, this the pursuivant would take away from them as being Popishand superstitious. One knight did affirm that in one term he gave twentynobles in rewards to the door-keeper of the Attorney-General; anotherdid affirm, that his third part which remained unto him of his estatedid hardly serve for his expense in law to defend him from otheroppressions; besides their children to be taken from home, to be broughtup in another religion. So they did every way conclude that their estatewas desperate; they could die but once, and their religion was moreprecious unto them than their lives. They did further consider theirmisery; how they were debarred in any course of life to help themselves.They could not practise law,--they could not be citizens,--they couldhave no office; they could not breed up their sons--none did desire tomatch with them; they had neither fit marriages for their daughters,nor nunneries to put them into; for those few which are beyond seas arenot considerable in respect of the number of recusants, and none can beadmitted into them without great sums of money, which they, beingexhausted, could not supply. The Spiritual Court did not cease to molestthem, to excommunicate them, then to imprison them; and thereby theywere utterly disenabled to sue for their own." Such is a faithfulpicture of the state of the Catholic party at the commencement of thereign of James the First.
Pressed down by these intolerable grievances, is it to be wondered atthat the Papists should repine,--or that some among their number, whenall other means failed, should seek redress by darker measures? By astatute of Elizabeth, all who refused to conform to the establishedreligion were subjected to a fine of twenty pounds a lunar month; andthis heavy penalty, remitted, or rather suspended, on the accession ofthe new sovereign, was again exacted, and all arrears claimed. Added tothis, James, whose court was thronged by a host of needy Scottishretainers, assigned to them a certain number of wealthy recusants, andempowered them to levy the fines--a privilege of which they were notslow to avail themselves. There were other pains and penalties providedfor by the same statute, which were rigorously inflicted. To withdraw,or seek to withdraw another from the established religion was accountedhigh treason, and punished accordingly; to hear mass involved a penaltyof one hundred marks and a year's imprisonment; and to harbour a priest,under the denomination of a tutor, rendered the latter liable to ayear's imprisonment, and his employer to a fine of ten pounds a-month.Impressed with the belief that, in consequence of the unremittingpersecutions which the Catholics underwent in Elizabeth's time, thereligion would be wholly extirpated, Doctor Allen, a Lancashire divine,who afterwards received a cardinal's hat, founded a college at Douay,for the reception and education of those intending to take orders. Fromthis university a number of missionary priests, or seminarists, as theywere termed, were annually sent over to England; and it was againstthese persons, who submitted to every hardship and privation, to danger,and death itself, for the welfare of their religion, and in the hope ofpropagating its doctrines, that the utmost rigour of the penalenactments was directed. Among the number of seminarists despatched fromDouay, and capitally convicted under the statute above-mentioned, werethe two priests whose execution has just been narrated.
As a portion of the crowd passed over the old bridge across the Irwellconnecting Manchester with Salford, on which stood an ancient chapelerected by Thomas de Booth, in the reign of Edward the Third, andrecently converted into a prison for recusants, they perceived theprophetess, Elizabeth Orton, seated upon the stone steps of thedesecrated structure, earnestly perusing the missal given her by FatherWoodroofe. A mob speedily collected round her; but, unconsciousseemingly of their presence, the poor woman turned over leaf after leaf,and pursued her studies. Her hood was thrown back, and discovered herbare and withered neck, over which her dishevelled hair streamed in longsable elf-locks. Irritated by her indifference, several of theby-standers, who had questioned her as to the nature of her studies,began to mock and jeer her, and endeavoured, by plucking her robe, andcasting little pebbles at her, to attract her attention. Roused atlength by these annoyances, she arose; and fixing her large black eyesmenacingly upon them, was about to stalk away, when they surrounded anddetained her.
"Speak to us, Bess," cried several voices. "Prophesy--prophesy."
"I _will_ speak to you," replied the poor woman, shaking her hand atthem, "I _will_ prophesy to you. And mark me, though ye believe not, mywords shall not fall to the ground."
"A miracle! a miracle!" shouted the by-standers. "Bess Orton, who hasbeen silent for twenty years, has found her tongue at last."
"I have seen a vision, and dreamed a dream," continued the prophetess."As I lay in my cell last night, meditating upon the forlorn state ofour religion, and of its professors, methought nineteen shadowy figuresstood before me--ay, nineteen--for I counted them thrice--and when Iquestioned them as to their coming,--for my tongue at first clove to theroof of my mouth, and my lips refused their office,--one of themanswered, in a voice which yet rings in my ears, 'We are the chosendeliverers of our fallen and persecuted church. To us is intrusted therebuilding of her temples,--to our hands is committed the destruction ofour enemies. The work will be done in darkness and in secret,--with toiland travail,--but it will at length be made manifest; and when the houris arrived, our vengeance will be terrible and exterminating.' Withthese words, they vanished from my sight. Ah!" she exclaimed, suddenlystarting, and passing her hand across her brow, as if to clear hersight, "it was no dream--no vision. I see one of them now."
"Where? where?" cried several voices.
The prophetess answered by extending her skinny arm towards some objectimmediately before her.
All eyes were instantly turned in the same direction, w
hen they beheld aSpanish soldier--for such his garb proclaimed him--standing at a fewpaces' distance from them. He was wrapped in an ample cloak, with abroad-leaved steeple-crowned hat, decorated with a single green feather,pulled over his brows, and wore a polished-steel brigandine, trunk hose,and buff boots drawn up to the knees. His arms consisted of a brace ofpetronels thrust into his belt, whence a long rapier depended. Hisfeatures were dark as bronze, and well-formed, though strongly marked,and had an expression of settled sternness. His eyes were grey andpenetrating, and shaded by thick beetle-brows; and his physiognomy wascompleted by a black peaked beard. His person was tall and erect, andhis deportment soldier-like and commanding. Perceiving he had become anobject of notice, the stranger cast a compassionate look at theprophetess, who still remained gazing fixedly at him, and throwing her afew pieces of money, strode away.
Watching his retreating figure till it disappeared from view, the crazedwoman tossed her arms wildly in the air, and cried, in a voice ofexultation, "Did I not speak the truth?--did I not tell you I had seenhim? He is the deliverer of our church, and is come to avenge therighteous blood which hath been this day shed."
"Peace, woman, and fly while there is yet time," cried the young man whohad been designated as Humphrey Chetham. "The pursuivant and hismyrmidons are in search of you."
"Then they need not go far to find me," replied the prophetess. "I willtell them what I told these people, that the day of bloody retributionis at hand,--that the avenger is arrived. I have seen him twice,--oncein my cave, and once again here,--even where you stand."
"If you do not keep silence and fly, my poor creature," rejoinedHumphrey Chetham, "you will have to endure what you suffered yearsago,--stripes, and perhaps torture. Be warned by me--ah! it is too late.He is approaching."
"Let him come," replied Elizabeth Orton, "I am ready for him."
"Can none of you force her away?" cried Humphrey Chetham, appealing tothe crowd; "I will reward you."
"I will not stir from this spot," rejoined the prophetess, obstinately;"I will testify to the truth."
The kind-hearted young merchant, finding any further attempt to preserveher fruitless, drew aside.
By this time, the pursuivant and his attendants had come up. "Seizeher!" cried the former, "and let her be placed within this prison till Ihave reported her to the commissioners. If you will confess to me,woman," he added in a whisper to her, "that you have harboured a priest,and will guide us to his hiding-place, you shall be set free."
"I know of no priests but those you have murdered," returned theprophetess, in a loud voice, "but I will tell you something that you wotnot of. The avenger of blood is at hand. I have seen him. All here haveseen him. And you shall see him--but not now--not now."
"What is the meaning of this raving?" demanded the pursuivant.
"Pay no heed to her talk," interposed Humphrey Chetham; "she is a poorcrazed being, who knows not what she says. I will be surety for herinoffensive conduct."
"You must give me surety for yourself, sir," replied the pursuivant. "Ihave just learnt that you were last night at Ordsall Hall, the seat ofthat 'dangerous temporiser,'--for so he is designated in mywarrant,--Sir William Radcliffe. And if report speaks truly, you are notaltogether insensible to the charms of his fair daughter, Viviana."
"What is this to thee, thou malapert knave?" cried Humphrey Chetham,reddening, partly from anger, partly, it might be, from another emotion.
"Much, as you shall presently find, good MasterWolf-in-sheep's-clothing," retorted the pursuivant; "if you prove not arank Papist at heart, then do I not know a true man from a false."
This angry conference was cut short by a piercing scream from theprophetess. Breaking from the grasp of her captors, who were about toforce her into the prison, she sprang with a single bound upon theparapet of the bridge; and utterly regardless of her dangerous position,turned, and faced the soldiers, who were struck mute with astonishment.
"Tremble!" she cried, in a loud voice,--"tremble, ye evil-doers! Ye whohave despoiled the house of God,--have broken his altars,--scattered hisincense,--slain his priests. Tremble, I say. The avenger is arrived. Thebolt is in his hand. It shall strike king, lords, commons,--all! Theseare my last words,--take them to heart."
"Drag her off!" roared the pursuivant, furiously.
"Use care--use gentleness, if ye are men!" cried Humphrey Chetham.
"Think not you can detain me!" cried the prophetess. "Avaunt, andtremble!"
So saying she flung herself from the parapet.
The height from which she fell was about fifty feet. Dashed into the airlike jets from a fountain by the weight and force of the descendingbody, the water instantly closed over her. But she rose to the surfaceof the stream, about twenty yards below the bridge.
"She may yet be saved," cried Humphrey Chetham, who with the by-standershad hurried to the side of the bridge.
"You will only preserve her for the gallows," observed the pursuivant.
"Your malice shall not prevent my making the attempt," replied the youngmerchant. "Ha! assistance is at hand."
The exclamation was occasioned by the sudden appearance of the soldierin the Spanish dress, who rushed towards the left bank of the river,which was here, as elsewhere, formed of red sandstone rock, andfollowing the course of the current, awaited the next appearance of thedrowning woman. It did not occur till she had been carried aconsiderable distance down the stream, when the soldier, swiftlydivesting himself of his cloak, plunged into the water, and dragged herashore.
"Follow me," cried the pursuivant to his attendants. "I will not lose myprey."
But before he gained the bank of the river, the soldier and his chargehad disappeared, nor could he detect any traces of them.
Guy Fawkes; or, The Gunpowder Treason: An Historical Romance Page 4