THE HISTORY OF THE PERSECUTIONS and WARS against the WALDENSES, in the Dallies of. Ing rogne, Lucerne, St. Martin, Perouse, and elsewhere, in the County of Piedmont, from the year 1555 to 1561.

 

 WHEN the Waldenses divided themselves into divers countries, some went to Piedmont, and the Valley of Angrogne. These men, by long persecution, being driven from place to place, were grievously afflicted, but yet could never be utterly destroyed, nor compelled to yield to the religion of the church of Rome; but ever abstained from their corruption and idolatry, and gave themselves to the Word of God as a rule whereby truly to serve him.

 

 In the month of August, 1555, the gospel was openly preached in Angrogne. The ministers and people intended at first to keep themselves still secret; but there was such concourse of people from all parts, that they were compelled to preach openly. For this cause they built a church in the midst of Angrogne, where asseniblies were made, and sermons preached. It happened, about that time, that one John Martin, of Briqueras, a mile from Angrogne, vaunted every where, that he would slit the nose of the minister of Angrogne; but he himself was assaulted by a wolf, which bit off his nose, so that he, died thereof mad.

 

 At this season, the French king held these Valleys, and they were under the jurisdiction of the parliament of Turin. The same time also they began openly to preach is Lucerne. In March, 1556, the ministers of the Valley of St. Martin preached openly. The parliament, being sorely incensed, sent one, called the president of St. Julian, to hinder it. He coming first to the Valley of Perouse, where no preachers were yet come, very much troubled the poor people. From thence he, with others, went to the Valley of St. Martin, tormenting the poor people, and threatening their utter destruction. After that they came to Lucerne, and thence to Angrogne, accompanied with many gentlemen, and a great rabble of priests. But by the way the president inquired for one who dwelt at St. John's, near to Angrogne, and examined him, Whether he had not baptized his child at Angrogne; and wherefore he had so done The poor man answered, That he had baptized his child at Angrogne, because baptism was there ministerd according to the institution of CHRIST.. Then the president,’in a great rage, commanded him, -in the king's name, to baptize his child again, or else he should be burnt. The poor man desired the president that he might be suffered to make his prayer to GOD, before he should make answer. Which after he had done, in the hall, before all the company there present, he required the president that he would write and sign the same with his own hand, that he would discharge him before God of the danger of that offence, if he should baptize his child again. The president hearing this, was so confounded, that he spoke riot one word a good while after. Then said he, in a great fury, "Away, you villain, out of my sight." And after that he was never called more.

 

 After they were come to Angrogne, the president, having visited the two churches, caused a monk to preach in the one, the people being there assembled. As soon as he had ended his sermon, the people requested that their minister might be suffered to preach; affirming, that the said monk had spoken many things which were not according to the Word of God. But the president would not grant their request. After that, he admonished them, in the name of the king, that they should return to the obedience of the pope, upon pain, of loss of goods and life. The ministers and people answered, "That they were determined to live according to the Word of GOD, and that they would obey the king and all their superiors in all things, so that God thereby would not be displeased. And furthermore, if it were spewed to them by the Word of GOD, that they erred in any point of religion, they were ready to receive correction, and to be reformed." This talk endured about six hours, even till night. In the end, the president said, there should be a disputation appointed.for those matters. Whereunto the people gladly agroed; but after that there was no more mention thereof,

 

 He remained here fourteen days, daily practising new devices to vex and torment them, causing assemblies to be made in every parish, by such as he appointed, thinking thereby to divide the people. Notwithstanding, he nothing prevailed; butt still they continued constant. Insomuch that they, with one accord, presented a brief confession of their faith, with an answer to certain interrogatories propounded by the president, concerning the mass, auricular confession, baptism, and burials.

 

 To the first they answered, " That, they received the Lord's-Supper as it was instituted by CHRIST himself; but as for the mass, except the, same could, be proved by the Word of GOD, they would not receive it. As touching auricular confession, they said, they confessed daily to GOD, acknowledging themselves, before him to be miserable sinners, desiring of him pardon and forgiveness of their sin, as CHRIST instructed his disciples in the prayer which he taught them: and seeing it is God alone which forgiveth sins, therefore they were bound to confess themselves to him only, and to no other. As to baptism, they acknowledged and received that holy institution of CHRIST, and administered the same with all simplicity, as he ordained it in his holy Gospel, without any alteration, and that in their mother tongue; but as for their conjurations, oiling, and salting, they would not receive them. As touching burials, they answered, that they knew there was difference between the bodies of the true Christians and the infidels, forasmuch as the first are the members of JESUS CHRIST, temples of the Holy Ghost, and partakers of the glorious resurrection of the dead; and therefore they were accustomed to follow their dead to the grave reverently, with a sufficient company, and exhortation out of the Word of God; as well to comfort the friends of the dead, as to admonish all men diligently to prepare themselves to die. But as for the using candles, or lights, and praying for the dead, they would not receive these things. Moreover, as to men's traditions, they received and allowed all those ordinances which (as St. Paul says,) serve for order, decency, and reverence of the ministry. But as for other ceremonies, which have been brought into the church of GOD, as essential parts of Divine service, or to merit remission of sins, or else to bind men's consciences, because they are repugnant to the Word of GOD, they could by no means receive them.

 

 The president, and the rest of the commissioners, perceiving they labored in vain, returned to Turin with the notes of their proceedings, which were immediately sent to the king's court, and there the matter remained a year before there was any answer. All this time the Waldoys lived in great quietness; as GOD, of his infinite goodness, is wont to give some comfort and refreshing to his poor servants, after long troubles and afflictions. The number of the faithful so augmented, that throughout the Valleys God's Word was purely preached, and his sacraments duly administered, and no mass was sung at Angrogne, nor in divers other places. The year after, the president of St. Julian, with his associates, returned to Pignerol, and sent for the chief rulers of Angrogne, and of the Valley of Lucerne, (six of Angrogne,, and two of every parish besides,) and showed them, that the last year they had presented their confession, which, by a decree made by the parliament of Turin, was sent to the king's court, and there diligently examined by learned men, and condemned as heretical. Therefore the king commanded them to return to the obedience of the church of Rome, upon pain of loss both of goods and life; enjoining them to give him a direct answer within three days. From thence he went to Lucerne, with great threatenings; but they, with one consent, persisted in their former confession. And lest they should seem stubborn in the defense of any erroneous doctrine, they desired that their confession,might be sent to all the universities of CHRISTendom; and if the same, in any part, were disproved by the Word of GOD, it should immediately be amended; but otherwise, if that were _got done, then they should be no more disquieted.

 

 A little while after, proclamation was made in every place, That no man should receive any preacher coming from Geneva, but only such as were appointed by the archbishop of Turin, upon pain of confiscation of their goods, and loss of their lives; and that every one should observe the ceremonies, rites, and religion used in the church of Rome. Furthermore, if any of the preachers of Geneva came, that they should be immediately apprehended. At the same time, the princess of Germany, and certain of the Switzers, sent unto the French king, desiring him to have pity on the said churches; and from that time, until three years after, the people of the Valleys were not molested by any of the king's officers; but they were sorely vexed by the monks of Pignerol, and the gentlemen of the Valley of St. Martin.

 

 About that time, a minister of Angrogne, named Geoffry Variallia, a virtuous and learned man, went to visit certain churches in those quarters where he was born, and coming home, was taken at Berge, and led to Turin, where, after he. had made a good confession of his faith, to the confirmation of many, and to the terror of his adversaries, he most constantly suffered. A few days after, a minister of the valley of Lucerne, returning to Geneva, was taken prisoner at Suse, and sent to Turin, and with an invincible constancy made his confession before the parliament, and was condemned to be burnt. The hangman, at the time of execution, feigned himself to be sick, and so conveyed himself away. And so likewise another served them. Whereupon the minister was sent to prison again, where, after a long and painful confinement, seeing the prison door open, he escaped, and returned to his cure.

 

 The year following, which was 1559, there was a peace concluded between the French king, and the king of Spain. Whereupon the country of Piedmont, (certain towns excepted,) was restored to the duke of Savoy; under whom the said churches, and all other faithful people in Piedmont, continued in great quietness; and the duke himself was content to suffer them to live in their religion, knowing that he had no subjects more faithful and obedient. But the pope and cardinals, seeing the good inclination of the duke towards this people, incensed him to do that, which otherwise he would not; alleging, that he could not suffer such a people to dwell within his dominion, without dishonor to the apostolic see. Upon this, in the month of March following, there was a great persecution against the poor Christians, which were at Carignan. Amongst whom there were certain persons taken, and burnt within four days. One, named Mathurine, and his wife, and John de Carquignam, who dwelt in the valley of Lucerne. The woman died with great constancy. John de Carquignam had been in prison divers times before, and was always delivered by God's singular providence. But seeing himself taken this last time, he said, " He knew that God had now called him." Both by the way as he went, and in prison, and also at his death, he showed an invincible constancy, as well by the pure confession which he made, as in suffering with patience the horrible torments which he endured, both in prison, and also at his death. Many at that time fled away; others, fearing man more than GOD, consented to return to the obedience of the church of Rome.

 

 Within a few days after, the churches of Le Larch, Meronne, Meane, and Suse, were wonderfully assaulted. It were too long to recite all the outrage and villainy that was there committed: we will recite only some of the principal and best known. The churches of Meane and Suse suffered great affliction. Their minister was taken among others. Many fled away, and their houses and goods were ransacked. The minister was a faithful servant of GOD, and endued with excellent gifts and graces, who in the end was put to a most cruel death. The patience he showed in the midst of the fire astonished the adversaries. likewise the churches of Larch and Meronne were marvelously tormented. Some were taken and sent to the galleys, others yielded to the adversaries, and a great number of them fled. It is certainly known, that those which yielded to the adversaries were more cruelly handled than the others which continued constant. Whereby God declared how greatly.he detesteth all such as play the apostates, and shrink from the truth.

 

 One Charles de Comptes, of the valley of Lucerne, and one of the lords of Angrogne, wrote to the commissioners, to use some lenity towards them of the valley of Lucerne. By reason whereof they were awhile more gently treated than the rest. Yet the monks of Pignerol, and their associates, grievously tormented the churches near them. They took them as they passed by the way, and kept them prisoners within their abbey. And having assembled a company of ruffians, they sent them to spoil those of the churches, and to take prisoners men, women, and children; and some they tormented so, that they were compelled to swear to return to the mass; some they sent to the galleys, and others they burnt.

 

 The gentlemen of the valley of St. Martin treated their tenants very cruelly, and commanded them to return to the mass; spoiling them of their goods, imprisoning them, and vexing them by all the means they could. But above all others, Charles Truchet, and Boniface his brother; who, the second day of April, before day, with a company of ruffians, spoiled a village of their own subects, named Renelaret. As soon as the inhabitants of the said village perceived their intent, they fled into the mountains, covered with snow, naked and without victuals, and there remained till the third night after. In the morning, certain of his retinue took a minister of the said valley, who was going out to visit the poor people of Renclaret, and led him prisoner to the abbey, where soon after he was burnt, with another of th~ valley of St. Martin. The third night after, they of Pragela, pitying the poor people of Renclaret, sent about 4OO to discomfit the company of the Truchets, and to restore those which were fled to their houses. They were furiously assaulted by their enemies, who, notwithstanding, in the end were put to flight, and but one of the 4OO hurt. Soon after the lords of the said valley took another minister, as he was going to preach a mile from his house; but the people perceiving that, speedily pursued him and retook him. The enemies, seeing that they were not able to lead him away, wounded him so sore, that they left him for dead, and so persecuted the poor people, that they were almost destroyed.

 

 The duke fell sick soon after. And in the month of April following, the lord of Raconis was present at a sermon, in a place near Angrogne. The sermon being ended, he talked with the ministers; and having discoursed as well of the duke's sickness, as also of his clemency, he declared to them, that the persecution proceeded not of him, and that he meant not the commission should have been so rigorously executed. After that he

 

demanded of them, what way they thought best to appease the duke's wrath They answered, The best way they knew, was to present in writing the confession of their faith, and defense of the religion which they professed.

 

 Whereupon they sent three supplications, one to the duke, the second to the dutchess, and the third to the duke's council; wherein they briefly declared what their religion was, which they and their ancestors had of a long time observed, being wholly grounded upon the word of God; and if by the same word it could be proved that they were in error, they would gladly embrace the truth. After this the persecution seemed to be somewhat assuaged for a little while.

 

 In June following, the lord of Raconis, and the lord of Trinity, came to Angrogne, and caused the chief rulers and ministers to assemble together, propounding divers points of religion. They demanded, a If the duke should cause mass to be sung in their parishes, whether they would withstand the same or no" They simply answered, 11 They would not." Then they demanded, u If the duke would appoint them preachers, whether they would receive them" They answered, "That if they preached the word of God purely, they would hear them." Thirdly, " If they were content that in the mean time their ministers should cease, and if they, which should be sent, preached not the word of God sincerely, then their ministers to preach again If they would agree to this, they were promised that the persecution should cease, and the prisoners should be restored again." To this question, after they had conferred with the people, they answered, That they could by no means suffer their ministers should forbear preaching." The two lords, not contented with this answer, commanded in the duke's name, that all the ministers which were strangers, should be banished the country: demanding also whether they would maintain the prince's enemies within his own land, against his express commandment To which they answered, That they could by no means banish them, unless they were convicted of some heresy or other crime; for their part they had always found them to be men of sound doctrine, and also of godly life and conversation.

 

 Immediately proclamations were made against them, and the persecution' began on every side to be more furious than it was before. Amongst others, the monks of Pignerol were most cruel: for they sent out a company of hired ruffians which daily spoiled and ransacked houses, and all that they could lay hands on; took men, women, and children, and led them captives to the abbey, where they were most spitefully afflicted and tormented. At the same time they sent a band of those ruffians by night, to the minister of St. Germain's house, in the valley of Perouse, being led thither by a traitor that knew it. He knocking at the door, the minister knew his voice, and came forth immediately, but perceiving himself to be betrayed, he fled. However he was soon taken and sore wounded; notwithstanding they pricked him behind with their halberds to make him hasten his pace. At that time also many they slew, many they hurt, and many they, brought to the abbey, and there kept them in prison, and cruelly used them. The good minister endured sore imprisonment, and after that, a most terrible kind of death, with a wonderful constancy; for they roasted him by a small fire; and when half his body was burnt, he confessed and called upon the Lord JESUS with a loud

 

voice. To be brief, they so tormented these poor people of St. Germain, and the places thereabout, that after they were spoiled of their goods, they were compelled to flee into the mountains to save their lives. 

 

 So that many, who before had been men of much wealth, and had ministered great succor and comfort to others, were now brought to such misery, that they were compelled to ask relief of others. When these monks, with their troop of about 3OO ruffians, made such havoc in all the country, that no man could live in safety, it was demanded of the ministers, whether it was lawful to defend themselves against their

 

violent outrages The ministers answered, that it was lawful. Then they of the valley of Lucerne and of Angrogne, sent certain men to them of St. Germain to aid them.

 

 In June, the harvest-time in Piedmont, divers of the Waldoys were gone into the country to reap: these were all taken prisoners at sundry times and places, not one knowing of another; but yet God so wrought, that they all escaped out of prison; whereat the adversaries were marvelously astonished. At the same time there were certain others also, which had sustained long imprisonment, looking for nothing but death; and yet they, after a wonderful sort, by God's merciful providence, were likewise delivered. In July, they of Angrogne, being at harvest upon a hill side, perceived a company of soldiers spoiling them of St. Germain. Fifty of them immediately assembled together upon the mountain, and some ran over the hill, and somec by the valley. They which went by the valley met the spoilers, 12O in number, coming from St. Germain, loaden with spoil, which. they had gotten, and setting upon them soon overthrew them. The passage over the bridge being stopped, the enemies were fain to take the river Cluzon, where some were much hurt, many were drowned, and some narrowly escaped; and such a slaughter was made of them, that the river was dyed with blood, but none of the Angrognians were hurt at all. Within an hour's time, there were three or four hundred of the Waldoys gathered together upon the river; and at the same time they had purposed to fetch away their prisoners which were in the abbey, but they would not do it without the counsel of their ministers, and so deferred the matter until the next day. But their ministers counselled them not to enterprise any such thing. The rest of the country were wonderfully afraid, and rang the bells every where. The greater part of them fled, doubting lest the poor Waldoys would have revenged the outrages done to them, After this, there were many injunctions given out through all the country, to banish the Waldoys out of the mountains and valleys of Piedmont: who only desired that they might be suffered to serve God purely, according to the rule prescribed in his word: simply obeying their lord and prince always, and in all things. Yet, in the end of October, the rumour went that an army was levying to destroy them; and in very deed there were certain bands levied, ready to march at an hour's warning. The ministers and chief rulers of the valleys of Lucerne and Angrogne thereupon assembled, to advise what were best to be done. They determined, that for certain days following, a general fast should be kept. Also that they should' not defend themselves by force of arms, but that every one should withdraw to the high mountains, and carry away such goods as they were able to bear: and if their enemies pursued them thither, then to take such advice as it pleased God to give them. This article of not defending themselves seemed strange to the people, being driven to such an extremity, and the cause being so just. But yet every one began to carry his goods and victuals into the mountain, and for the space of eight days, all the ways were filled with comers and goers to and from the mountains. All this they did in this great danger, with a wonderful courage and cheerfulness, praising GOD, and singing psalms, and every one comforting another. Briefly, they went with such joy and alacrity, that you could not have seen any who grudged to leave their houses, and fair possessions, but were wholly determined patiently to abide the good pleasure of GOD, and to die if he had so appointed.

 

 During this season,' the lord of Angrogne, named Charles de Comptes, of Lucerne, labored earnestly to cause them of Angrogne to condescend to the duke's pleasure, and solicited them to send away their ministers, promising that he would cause a mass to be sung at Angrogne, and that the people should not be compelled to be present thereat. The chief of Angrogne thereupon assembled and made answer, That if the duke would permit them to choose other ministers, they were content to send away their foreign ministers. And as touching the mass, his highness might cause it to be sung in their parishes, but they could not with safe consciences be present, nor yet give their consent to it.

 

The 22d of October, the said lord went to Mondevis, where he was then governor for the duke, and sent for the chief rulers of Angrogne several times, declaring unto them the great dangers wherewith they were environed, the army being at hand. He promised them, if they would submit, he would send immediately to stay the army. They answered, That they were all determined to stand to that which they had put in writing. With this answer he seemed at that present to be content. The next day the rumour was, that they of Angrogne had submitted themselvc 3 to the duke. The people hearing that, were sore astonished, and protested rather to die than obey the same. And it was agreed, that at that instant, some should be sent to the lord of Angrogne, to signify to him, that the determination of the counsel was falsified, and that it might please him the next morning to come to Angrogne, to hear the voices of the people, not only of the men, but of the women and children. But he himself went not, but sent thither the judge of that place. Then that which had been falsified was duly corrected; the judge laying all the blame upon the notary.

 

During this time the adversaries cried out, through all the country of Piedmont, To the fire, to the fire with them. The Thursday after, by proclamations set up in every place, Angrogne was exposed to fire and sword. On Friday, being the 2d of November, the army approached to the borders of the valley of Lucerne, and certain horsemen came to a place called St. John, a little beneath Angrogne. Then the people retired into the mountains. Certain of St. John, perceiving that the horsemen not only spoiled their goods, but also took their fellows prisoners, set upon them. It is not certain what number of their enemies were slain; but they suddenly retired to the camp, and not one of them of St. John

 

was slain or hurt. At the same time, two of the horse men, being sore amazed,’gallopped before the rest towards the army, being ready to march towards Angrogne, crying, They come, they come! At whose cry the whole army was so astonished, that every man fled his way, and they were all so scattered, that the captains that day were not able to bring them in order again.

 

 On Saturday, in the morning, the army mustered in the meadow-ground of St. John, near Angrogne. The Angrognians had sent certain to keep the passages, and stop the army that they should not enter, if it were possible. In the mean season the people retired into the meadow of Toure, and little thought of the coming of the army so soon; for they were yet carrying off victuals and other stuff, so that few of them kept the passages. They which kept the straits, perceiving that their enemies prepared themselves to fight, fell down upon their knees, and made their prayers unto GOD, that it would please him to take pity upon them, and not to look upon their sins, but the cause which they maintained: and if it were his will to take them, with their wives and infants out of this world, that he would mercifully receive them into his kingdom. In this sort, all those who kept the passages made fervent prayers with exhortation, that they should all together cry unto God. All this the lord of Trinity and the army perceived. Their prayers ended, they perceived their enemies coming towards them, through the vines, to win the top of the mountain of Angrogne. In the mean time the prior of St. John, and Jacomel, the inquisitor, were in the church of Angrogne, and communed with the rulers touching an agreement. These were sent thither by the lord of Trinity to keep the people employed. The combat began in divers places, and endured for a long space in the passages of Angrogne. The poor Waldoys being but few in number, and some of them having but slings and cross-bows, were sore pressed with the multitude of their enemies. At length they retired to the top of the mountain, where they defended themselves till night.

 

 When they had found a place where they might withstand their enemies, who still pursued them, they turned, and slew divers of them. When the evening came, the enemies rested, and were about to encamp themselves there to lodge all night. When the Angrognians perceived this, they fell to prayer, desiring God to succor them; but the enemies laughed them to scorn. As they were making their supplications to GOD, the lord of Trinity caused his soldiers, who were about to encamp themselves, to remove. This proved a great advantage to the poor people, which now were sore wearied, all wet with sweating, very thirsty, and in great peril, if God had not given them some little breathing time. Many of the enemies that day were slain, and many hurt. There were but three of the Angronians slain, and one hurt, who was afterwards healed. This combat gave great courage to the Waldoys, and sore astonished the adversaries. But the army retiring, burnt many houses, and made great spoil as they went.

 

 The lord of Trinity, with his army, encamped in a village beyond Toure, in the valley of Lucerne, at the foot of the hill, between Angrogne and the other towns of the valley of Lucerne, which professed the gospel. They of Angrogne (seeing themselves now in a sea of troubles,) after they had recommended themselves to God by prayer, sent to them of Perouse, St. Martin, and of Pragela; who sent them all the help they were able. The next day there came letters to Angrogne from the lord of Trinity, intimating, that he was sorry for that which was done the day before; and that he came not thither to make war against them, but only to view if it were a place convenient to build a fort therein to serve the duke. The Angrognians answered, That they were grieved to be so assaulted by the subjects of their natural prince: and as they had oftentimes before offered themselves to be obedient to their sovereign prince, so they still offered the same.

 

 Upon Monday, the 4th of November, the lord of Trinity sent his army to Villars and Tailleret. The lesser company ascended towards Villars. The people seeing their enemies approach, after they had called upon God with fervent prayer, strongly defended themselves, and slew many: many also were hurt, and the rest fled. The other company ascended towards Tailleret. And although they of that place were but’few in number, yet making their prayers unto GOD, and commending their cause unto him, they defended themselves likewise valiantly. In the mean season they of Villars came "to assist their neighbors, and being assembled together, they courageously pursued their enemies, and put them to flight. In this pursuit the poor people were suddenly enclosed on every side by an ambush, which carne another way; but yet they all escaped, and not one of them was slain, only three were hurt, who were soon cured again. On the enemy's side there were so many slain, that they were laid together by whole cart-loads. The same day the inhabitants of Sanson, near Roccapiata, assembled in great number, and.went to a rich man's house of Roccapiata, and spoiled all that he had. About 17 men of Roccapiata, understanding this, set upon them, and soon put them to flight, took their drum, and forced them to leave their booty behind them.

 

 After the lord of Trinity had received the Angrognians' letters, he sent his secretary to them. His charge was to cause the chief rulers to send certain to commune with the lord of Trinity. Whereupon they sent four to him, whom he treated very courteously, and said, he doubted not, but if they would send certain to the court with a supplication, they would obtain more than they themselves should require; and he would retire himself with his army. The people desiring but only to live peaceably under their lawful prince, were content to follow his counsel.

 

 About this time the Angrognians perceived that a part of the army ascended the hill of Tailleret, (which is the half way between Angrogne and those of the valley of Lucerne,) and the other part had already gotten a way, which led to the meadow of Toure, by which they of Angrogne might easily have been enclosed. Therefore they immediately sent certain to keep the way, who soon after encountered with their enemies, and obtained the victory, pursuing them to their camp, not without great loss of their men. Not one of Angrogne perished, nor was hurt. It was feared that this combat would have hindered the agreement; but the lord of Trinity could well dissemble the matter, and excused that day's journey, putting the fault upon them of Tailleret, whom he charged to have slain certain of his men in the highway.

 

 On Saturday following, being the 9th of November, the lord of Trinity sent for them of Angrogne, to consult touching the agreement; and added, That in token of true obedience they should carry their armour into two of the houses of their rulers, not fearing but it would be safe; for it should remain in their own keeping, and if need were they should receive it again. Also, that upon Sunday, (which was the next day,) he would cause a irass to be sung within the church of St. Laurence, in Angrogne, accompanied with a very few, and thereby the duke's wrath would be assuaged. The next morning he went into the church, his army marching before him; and having caused a mass to be sung, he desired to see the meadow of Toure, that he might make a true report thereof to the duke; the rulers, with a great troop of his own men, went thither, the residue of his company remained behind; who spoiled certain houses, and seized the armor which they had delivered up before. The said lord being entered the meadow of Toure, the people began to make a commotion: he having intelligence thereof, returned immediately. All that day he showed

 

himself very courteous to all whom he met.

 

 The people in the mean time perceived themselves to be in great danger, and were sore moved at the sight of the army, the spoil of the soldiers, the taking away of their armour, but especially because the lord of Trinity had viewed the meadow of Toure, foreseeing his traitorous purpose. A few days after, he sent his secretary to Angrogne to talk with them concerning the agreement, and to make a full resolution; which was then drawn up, and read in the assembly, the sum whereof was this, That the people of Angrogne submitted themselves to render all honor and reverence to God according to his holy word, and due obedience to the duke their sovereign prince, to whom they would send certain men to demand pardon of him, concerning their bearing armour in their extreme necessity, and humbly to beseech him that he would suffer them to live peaceably in their religion, which was according to the word of GOD, not compelling them to do any thing against their consciences. To this they of St. John, of Roccapiata, of St. Bartholomew, and of Perouse, with those of Lucerne, agreed. For it was concluded, that the agreement should extend to all the confederates of the same religion. Whilst they were treating of this, the lord of Trinity vexed them of Tailleret, under pretence, that they had not presented themselves to treat of an agreement: and first he commanded that all their armour should be brought before him, and then on their knees they should ask him pardon, because they came not to treat of the agreement with the rest, (which notwithstanding the most part of them did.) Then he commanded them to attend upon him, to enroll all the names of those which would be of the aforesaid agreement. The next morning the chief of the householders went to the village Bouvets, the place appointed, and when they had heard a sermon, began to write their names. The enrolling of their names not being fully ended, word was brought, that the soldiers had gotten the top of the

 

mountain, and had taken all the passages; whereat they of Tailleret were sore amazed, and ran with all speed to defend their wives and children. Some they saved; the most part, with their goods, were in the enemy's hands already. At this time they did much mischief, by sacking, spoiling, and burning.

 

 After this the said lord sent word to them which were fled, that if they would return, he would receive them to mercy. The poor people, trusting on his promise, returned to Bouvets, and yet the next morning the soldiers came thither to apprehend them and their ministers, and beset the place on every side. Such as were swift of foot escaped, but very hardly: the rest were all taken, and yet they all escaped by a marvelous means: for it happened that there war an old man which could not run fast, to whom one of the soldiers came with a naked sword to have slain him. The old man, seeing the imminent danger, caught the soldier by the legs, overthrew him, and drew him by the heels down the hill. The soldier cried out, a Help, help, this villain will kill me." His fellows hearing him cry, blade haste to rescue him; but in the mean time the old man escaped. The rest, seeing what the old man had done, took heart, and though their armour and weapons were taken from them, yet, with stones and slings, they so beat and discomfited their enemies, that for the present time they carried no prisoners away. The day following, the soldiers returning to Tailleret, robbed, spoiled, and carried away all they could find, and so continued three days together; which was very easy for them to do, because the poor men, fearing lest they should be charged with violating the agreement, made no resistance, but retired towards Villars.

 

The fourth day, the said lord sent his army again before day to the mountain, and into the same place, and because the people of the village were retired towards Villars, and scattered in the high mountains, the soldiers, not yet satisfied with spoiling and sacking Tailleret, ranged

 

about the confines thereof, and made havock, on every side, of whatsoever they could lay hands on, taking prisoners both men and women. The poor prisoners were cruelly handled. Amongst others there was one, whose ear a soldier of Mondevis bit clean off, saying, “I will carry the flesh of these heretics with me into my country." They of Villars also complained of the cruelty that was showed unto them during the time of the agreement.

 

 The lord of Trinity, to make a skew that he was offended therewith, came to his soldiers, who were so weary that they could scarce go, (not with fighting, but because they were so loaden with spoil,) and pretending to be in great choler, some he beat, and some things of a small value he caused to be restored. The same day two women, the mother and the daughter, were found in a cave in the mountain, wounded to death by the soldiers, and died immediately after. So likewise a blind man, aged 1OO years, who had fled into a cave with his son's daughter, being 18 years old, was slain by the enemy, and as they would have forced the maiden, she escaped from them, fell from the top of the mountain, and died. At that time also a great company of women of Tailleret and Villars were taken as they fled with their goods, and brought to the camp, and sent empty away. There was at the same time a soldier which promised to find out the minister of Tailleret. And he never ceased till he had found him, and after that he pursued him a long time. But as he was pursuing him, certain coming out of the mountain unawares, rescued the poor minister, and killed the soldier with stones. This especially is to be noted, that during these troubles divers of the papists had sent their daughters into the mountains unto the Waldoys to be kept, fearing lest they should have been ravished by the soldiers, being wholly given over as to all cruelty and rapine, so to all villainy and abomination.

 

 All this being done, the lord of Trinity caused the head officers and chiefest of the people to assemble together, and declared unto them, that the maintaining of the army was a great charge to the duke, and that it was meet that they should bear the one half of the charges. For this cause he demanded 8OOO crowns out of hand. But when the money was paid, yet the army retired not. After this, he commanded the Waldoys to surrender up all their armour. Then he commanded that the ministers should be sent away, until the matters were determined before the duke: whereupon they determined their ministers should withdraw for a space, until the army were retired; which was not done without many grievous sighs, lamentations, and tears. At that season there fell abundance of snow, so that the people were constrained to make a way, with great pains, through the top of the mountain of St. Martin, for their ministers to pass. The lord of Trinity, thinking to have inclosed them, kept the plain, and the mountains being covered so thick with snow, he imagined they could by means have escaped his hands. But the people caused them to pass the top of the mountain, and at their departure there flocked out of every quarter great multitudes to the village of Boby, and came together in a secret place, called Le Puis, not without great grief and sorrow. The army being informed that the ministers were assembled together, a great troop was presently at hand, who sought them to the very top of the mountain; insomuch that, if they had remained there but one hour longer, they had been all taken.

 

 The lord of Trinity promised often, That although it were forbidden to all the ministers to preach, yet the minister of Angrogne should be excepted: and sent the minister word, That if he would demand any thing of the duke, it should be granted him. Wherefore the minister made this one request, That the poor people might live peaceably in their religion. A while after he sent for the same minister, to confer with him privately upon certain points of religion. He propounded three points to him the first concerning the supremacy of the, pope; the other, concerning transubstantiation. The minister immediately declared his opinion of these two points, and he seemed to agree thereunto, and required him to put the same in writing. The last was to persuade the minister to go to the duke's court, and there defend the cause of the people. The minister answered, a That he was bound to God and his church, and if it seemed convenient to the people, he would go."

 

 Shortly after, the said lord sent his army to St. Laurence, in Angrogne, pretending to sing a mass there, and suddenly the soldiers besieged the minister's house. The minister being warned thereof escaped, and withdrew himself into the rocks upon the mountain, accompanied with five others. The army was soon at his heels, and sought a good while in the houses and cottages on every side, cruelly handling the people whom they took, to make them confess where he was. At length they spied him among the rocks, where they thought to have enclosed him, and so they pursued him in the rocks, all covered with snow, till it was night, and could not take him. Then they returned and spoiled his house, diligently searched out all his books and writings, and carried them to the lord of Trinity. That day they spoiled forty houses in Angrogne, broke their mills, and carried away all the corn and meal that they found. After some days, when the soldiers had burned houses, pillaged the people, broke their mills, and done what mischief they could, the army retired. Notwitl.standing the lord of Trinity left garrisons in the fortresses; but all at the costs of the Waldoys. These garrisons, not contented with their wages, spoiled the people continually.

 

 The rulers of Angrogne, which were gone to the fortress, to carry money and victuals thither, were retained by the soldiers, and in spite of them the people caused mass to be sung before them, and forced them to be present at it; and because they would not kneel clown to it, they were beaten almost to death. One of them was sent again for more money, the other, with great peril of his life, leaped over the walls, and escaped. In like manner did the other garrisons treat the villages near them. The garrison of Toure and Villars especially, and being assembled together by night, went to Tailleret, to the place called Bouvets, breaking open the doors, sacked and spoiled all they could lay hands on, took 14 prisoners, and bound them two and two together by the arms, and so led them to the fortress of Toure. But two that escaped, whilst the soldiers were taking others, set upon them who led the prisoners, and so valiantly assaulted them with stones, that they forced them to let go twelve of the prisoners, who rolling themselves down the mountain, having their ha: As tied behind their backs, and fastened two and two together by the arms, were contented rather to die, than to be carried to the fortress; and yet in the end they escaped. The other two which were led to the fortress, were cruelly tormented, and at last the captain strangled one of them with his own hands. The other, whose name was Odul Gemet, being about threescore years of age, suffered a strange and cruel death: for having bound him, they took a kind of creatures which live in horse-dung, called in French Escarbotz, and put them to his navel, covering them with a dish, which in a short space pierced into his belly, and killed him.

 

The poor Waldoys were yet in great distress, but especially because they had not the preaching of God's word. Therefore taking good courage, they determined to begin preaching again, but secretly, for two reasons: the one for fear of moving the duke, and hindering their messengers, having yet some hope of good success: the other,. that no occasion might be given to the soldiers of further trouble and outrage. Also they of Angrogne were fully determined, as soon as their messengers were returned, to preach openly, what news soever they brought; and not to contribute to the maintaining of the garrison. The messengers, which were sent to the duke, were detained six weeks, and cruelly handled. When they returned, and the people understood there was a new commandment, that they should return to the mass: also, that popish preachers were appointed, and ready to come to them, there was wonderful lamentation, weeping, and mourning, for this great calamity.

 

 Hereupon, they of the valley of Lucerne and Boby, being assembled together, sent two ministers, with some of the people to the churches of Pragela, (which are in the country of Dauphiny,) to signify to them the estate of the poor churches of the valleys of Piedmont, and to have their advice how to prevent the great dangers at hand, if it were possible. For this cause they all fell to prayer, and after they had long called upon GOD, desiring his grace, and the spirit of discretion; in the end it was concluded, That all the people dwelling in the said valleys and mountains of Piedmont, and those of Dauphiny, should join in a league together. Whereupon they all promised, by God's assistance, to maintain the pure preaching of the gospel, and administration of the holy sacraments; also to assist one another, and to render all obedience to their superiors, so far as they were commanded by the word of God. And certain of the ministers and elders of the churches of Dauphiny were sent to the valley of Lucerne, to know if they would give their consent hereto, and ratify the same.

 

 These messengers, the ministers and others of Dauphiny, being arrived at the village of Boby, and the people being there assembled, word was brought, that the next day every householder should appear in the council-house, to know whether they would return to the mass or not; and that they who would receive the mass, should quietly enjoy their houses; and they which would not, should be burned, or sent, to the galleys. Wherefore the people were brought to this extremity, either to die, or flee, or renounce God. Seeing themselves in such distress, they gladly consented to the league. After this they exhorted one another, saying, “Forasmueh as we shall be all called forr to-morrow, to forsake our GOD, and revolt again to idolatry, let us now make solemn protestation, that we will utterly forsake the false religion of the pope, and that we will live and die in the maintenance and confession of God's holy word. Let us all go to-morrow to the church, to hear the word of GOD, and let us cast down to the ground all the idols." To this every man agreed, saying, “Let us do it in that very hour, in which they have appointed us to be at the council-house."

 

 The next day they assembled themselves in the church, and without delay beat down the images. After sermon, they went to Villars, to do the like there. By the way they encountered with a band of soldiers, which were going to spoil a villag _, named Le Vall Guichard, and to take the poor inhabitants prisoners. The soldiers seeing them so ill accoutred, mocked them, thinking at the first brunt to have put them to flight. But they valiantly defended themselves, and with stones chased them even to the fortress. When they came to Villars, they beat down their images, and afterwards besieged the fortress, and demanded the prisoners who were there detained. The same day, the judge of Lucerne went to the councilhouse, to enrol the names of those who would return to the mass; but seeing what was done, he was sore afraid, and desired the people to suffer him to return quietly; which they willingly granted. Divers gentlemen also came thither with the judge, to make their poor tenants forsake God; but seeing the tumult, they were fain to flee into the castle, where they and the garrison were besieged together. The second day of the siege, the captain of Toure went with a company of soldiers, thinking to raise the siege; but they were either slain or discomfited by those that kept the passages. As much was done the third day. The fourth day he returned with three bands, and with the garrison of Toure, which caused a furious combat, wherein many of the enemies were slain, and a great number wounded; and yet of those that besieged the fort there was not one man hurt.

 

 They attempted divers means to take the fortress, but without ordnance it was impossible; therefore they were now past all hope of winning it. Moreover, the lord of Trinity, returning with his army, was come to the valley of Lucerne, and the next day after might easily have raised the siege. But the garrison (not knowing the lord of Trinity was so near,) desired they might depart with bag and baggage. Here it is not to be forgotten, that the soldiers, who a while before did so cruelly persecute the poor ministers, were now fain to pray them to save their lives, which the ministers did. The soldiers gave them great thanks, and promised to do for them what they should desire. The same night the fortress was razed.

 

 The second of February, the lord of Trinity encamped at Lucerne, and placed a garrison in the priory of St. John, between Lucerne and Angrogne. The next day he sent to inform them of Angrogne, that if they would not take part with the rest, they should be gently handled. But they, and the rest of the valleys, agreed to aid one another, and to make no truce without the consent of all. About noon, the lord of Trinity marched with his army by St. John, to enter into the borders of Angrogne, by a place called La Sonnilette. The people had made certain bulwarks of earth and stone, not above three feet high, where they defended themselves valiantly against their enemies, which assailed them divers ways. When the enemies were so weary that they could fight no longer, they put fresh soldiers into their places; so that the combat endured until night; and all that day the army could not enter into the borders of Angrogne. - Many of the enemies were slain, and a great number hurt. But two of Angrogne were slain; one of whom was slain by his own folly, because he was too greedy of the spoil. The army, being now well beaten and tired, rested a while, to make themselves stronger.

 

 The Friday following, which was the 7th of February, at break of the day, the army marched towards Angrogne five several ways. The people of Angrogne were not assembled, and there were none to resist, but only a few which kept the watch. They seeing their enemies coming upon them in so many places, and perceiving that they went about to enclose them, after they had valiantly fought for a space, recoiled by little and little to a high place, called La Casse, where the combat was renewed with greater fierceness than before. But the lord of Trinity, seeing the loss of his men, blew a retreat, and descended to Angrogne, (the people being fled to the meadow of Toure,) and there spoiled and burnt all the wines, victuals, and the rest of the goods, that he could find; so that in a short space he had burned about a thousand houses. It is not to be forgotten, that they often set fire upon the t-vo churches of Angrogne, but they could never burn them. So did they also to the minister's house, which notwithstanding remained whole, the houses round about being all consumed with fire. This day none of Angrogne was slain or hurt, save only one that was hurt in his thigh.

 

 There were in all Angrogne but two, that were enemies to the word of GOD, which were slain by the soldiers, not in the combat, but. for their riches which they had about them, as they were running away. The one of them was a covetous wretch, and had great store of gold and silver, but would spend nothing, either to help himself or others, no, not his poor parents. All this was spoiled by the soldiers, with 2OO crowns beside, which he had about him. Besides these two, there was not one of Angrogne slain that day. All the rest of the people retired to the meadow of Toure, the situation whereof we will here describe, for the better understanding of that which followeth. a Toure is a little valley upon the borders of Angrogne, environed with mountains, two miles in length, but very narrow. On both sides, and in the midst thereof, there are about 2OO cottages; also meadows, pastures, ground for tillage, trees, and fountains. On the south and north side, the mountains are so high, that no man can approach the valley that way. On the other sides, a man may enter seven or eight ways.

 

 This place is not more than two miles from Angrogne. The way thither is very narrow, and ill to pass, because of the hills on both sides. There is also a river hard by, but the banks thereof are very high in many places." The people had carried thither very little victuals, because the

 

way was so bad, and because of the sudden return of the army. The lord of Trinity, after he had twice assaulted Angrogne, sent some to burn Rosa, and to discover the, ways which led to the valley of Lucerne; but the soldiers were driven back four days together by those who kept

 

the passages. Whereupon he sent his whole army, whom they valiantly withstood from morning till night. Then they of Lucerne sent new aid. During this combat, an ambush of soldiers descended from the top of the mountain, by a place so hard to pass, that no man would have suspected it. The poor people, seeing themselves so environed by their enemies, saved themselves; some running through the midst of their enemies, and others into the rocks. The enemies being entered into Rosa, consumed all with fire and sword. The residue of the people led by the secret way leading to the valley of Lucerne, and wandered all night upon the mountains full of snow, loaden with their stuff, carrying their little infants in their arms, and leading the others by the hand. When they of the valley saw them, they ran to them, praising God for their deliverance. although this people were here in such great extremity, they were joyful, and comforted themselves, without any lamentation or mourning, except the poor little infants which cried for cold.

 

 A few days after, the lord of Trinity entered the valley of Lucerne by three several ways; that is, by Rosa, by the plains, and by the sides of Tailleret. They which kept the passages at first resisted their enemies valiantly, but perceiving that they were assailed on every side, they retired to Villars, and there defended themselves a while. But because they saw their enemies had already passed the plain, and gotten above Villars, towards Boby, they gave over, and leaving Villars, they fled into the mountains. The soldiers being entered, burned the houses,. and slew all that they could find. The poor people who were fled into the mountains, seeing their village on fire, praised GOD, and gave him thanks, that had made them worthy to suffer for his sake: and they were glad to see the village on fire, lest their enemies should encamp themselves there. Then the soldiers in great rage, mounted the hills on every side, pursuing the poor people in great fury; but a few of them, after they had ardently called upon GOD, took courage, and beat their enemies back to Villars. This done, the army retired.

 

 A few days after, the meadow of Toure was assaulted three ways on the east side. The combat endured a long season, during which divers of the enemies were hurt, and many slain. But none of this poor people were slain, only two were hurt, who were soon healed again. It were too long to declare the assaults, skirmishes, and alarms, which were at Angrogne and other places; it shall be sufficient to touch the principal, and those which are most worthy of memory.

 

 On Saturday, February 14, the people who were in the uppermost part of the meadow of Toure, perceived a company of soldiers were ascended up the hill to Angrogne, burning the rest of the houses there. They doubted, that it was a policy of their enemies to draw them thither, and in the mean time to set on them behind. Therefore they sent only six men against those soldiers; who having - the higher ground, and not being seen of their enemies, discharged all their guns together. Where upon the soldiers all ran away.

 

 Shortly after, they of the ward of the meadow of Toure, which were on the top of the mountain, (because every morning there was a sermon made, whereunto the people resorted, and they could see afar off round about them,) espied a troop of soldiers marching on that side of the hill, which is between the east and the north; and soon after, discovered another company, which marched on the north side, towards the said troop. The first ascended an hour before the other, and fought on the top of the mountain, but they were soon discomfited. And because

 

they could not run fast in the deep snow, they often fell to the ground in their flight. Whilst the pursuers were earnest in the chase, there came some to them, crying out, " that the other troop was entered the meadow of Toure;" wherefore they gave over the chase; or else, in all probability, not one of their enemies had escaped. Not one of Angrogne was slain or hurt.

 

 The other troop, which came by the north-side, took a high hill in the top of the mountain, which seemed almost inaccessible. The chief of this company were Lodovick, of Monteil, (which had been master of the camp in the king's wars,) and Charles Truchet. When they were come to the top of the hill, they caused seven soldiers to go down the hill, and view the way, and see whether the troop might descend that way, or not. These seven went down almost to the houses. They sent others to secure the rest of the high places which were near the foot of the hill and the rocks. In the mean time, the ministers and the people which were in the Valley saw all this, and were much discouraged; wherefore they fell to prayer, and called upon GOD, not without sighs, lamentations, and tears, even until night.

 

The seven spies, which came down to discover the ways, cried unto their captain, Truchet, " Come down, come down, Seignior Charles, this day Angrogne shall be taken." The other cried to them again, "Ascend, ascend,

 

,and return, or else you shall be slain, every one of you." Immediately issued out five against these spies, and took some, and chased the rest. The first of the five which set upon them, cast two of them down upon the ground with a fork. Soon after, eight Angrognians issued out against the whole troop. It was wonderful to see them go with such courage and boldness to assail such a multitude; it seemed likely they would have been all destroyed, and hewn in pieces. The first of the eight went a good way before the others,- to discover the enemies'. He carried a great staff, which they call a rancon, somewhat bigger than a halberd. The others followed two and two together with guns. These eight went from rock to rock, and from hill to hill, about the fountain,. and chased their enemies valiantly. Then came twelve others, who, joining with the rest, fought with a wonderful courage, and made great slaughter of their enemies.

 

 Soon after, there came 1OO men from the Valley of Lucerne, with one of their ministers. For it was their custom to send out a minister, as well for prayer and exhortation as to keep the people in order. At length they saw them also coming which returned from the discomfiture of the former troop, making a great noise, and having a druma sounding before them, which they had taken. These joined with them of the Valley of Lucerne, and having made their earnest prayer to GOD, came to succor the other that now were encountering valiantly with their enemies. When the enemies saw such a company marching against them, their hearts so failed them, that they suddenly fled; and as soon as the other began to pray, they began to flee.. But because they could not well save themselves by running away, some turned back twice, and fought while the rest fled.

 

 He that carried the rancor, and discovered the enemies, was a very young, simple man, and it was thought that he could do nothing but handle a hatchet; yet he, with those that followed, so discomfited the enemies, that it was wonderful to behold. He brake his great rancor

 

with laying load upon them; and after that, he broke also four of their own swords in pursuing of them. There was a boy of eighteen years of age, and of small stature, who alone slew the lord of Monteil; wherewith the enemies were marvelously astonished and discouraged. Another

 

simple man, who, a man would have thought, durst not once have looked Charles Truchet in the face, (because he was a very big man, strong and puissant, and one of the chief captains of the whole army,) felled him down with the stroke of a stone: then a young man leapt upon him, and with his own sword, which was four fingers broad, cleft his head in pieces. This Truchet was one of the principal authors of this war, and one of the chief enemies of the poor Waldoys. He vaunted and. promised before to the lord of Trinity, that he would deliver the meadow of Toure into his. hands. But God soon brought his proud brags to nought; and for his spoiling the poor people, he lay spoiled and naked like a beast, -in the wild mountain of Angrogne.

 

 The minister, when he saw the great effusion of blood, cried to the people, that it was enough; and exhorted them to give thanks to God. They which heard him obeyed, and fell to prayer; but they which were further off, and heard him not, chased their enemies till dark night. Insomuch, that if the rest had done the like, very few had escaped. That day they took a great part of their enemies armour.and munition. So God restored to the poor Waldoys the armour which the lord of Trinity had taken from them before. Thanks were given to God -in every place, and every man cried, "Who is he that seeth not that God fighteth for us" This victory gave.great courage to the Waldoys, and greatly astonished the -enemies.

 

 The 18th of February, the lord of Trinity, not satisfied with burning and destroying the greatest part of Villars, returned to burn all the villages round about, and to pursue the poor people which were fled up into the mountains, and dividing his army into three parts, entered by three several ways. The two first companies joined together between Villars and Boby, having a great coin.pany of horsemen. From thence they went to seek the people, which were in the mountain of Combe, by such.a way as they did not suspect, and where there were no warders to defend the place. Notwithstanding, the warders which were next, seeing their enemies ascending,that way, speedily ran before them, and calling upon God for succor, set themselves against their enemies. And though they were but thirty in number, yet they valiantly beat them back twice. Many of the enemies were slain in those two combats, and not one of the other side. The lord of Trinity, seeing his men so fiercely driven back, sent out the greatest part of his army, which were about 15OO men. There came about 1OO to succor the warders. The combat was very fierce. At length the poor people were assaulted so vehemently, that they were forced to forsake their bulwarks, losing two of their men. Then the enemies thought all to be theirs, and blew their trumpets, triumphing that they had won the day. But the people, retiring not a stone's.-cast, took courage, and crying to the Lord, turned upon their enemies, and with great power hurled stones at them with their slings.

 

 After this, the enemies rested themselves awhile, and then they gave a furious assault; but yet they were again mightily resisted. Yet once again the enemies rested; and in the mean time the people fell to prayer, calling upon God all together, with their faces lifted up towards heaven; which affrighted the enemies more than any thing else. After this, they gave yet another great assault; but GOD, by the hands of a few, drove them back. Yea, God here showed his great power, even in the little children, who fervently called upon GOD, threw stones at their enemies, and gave courage to the men. So did also the women, who, beholding these furious combats, kneeled upon the ground, and having their faces lifted up towards heaven, with tears and groanings, cried, "Lord, help us." And the Lord heard their prayers. After these three assaults were given, there came one unto them, crying, "Be of good courage; God'hath sent those of Angrogne to succor us." He meant, that they of Angrogne were fighting for them in another place; that is, towards Tailleret, where the third part of the army was. The people perceiving that they of Angrogne were come to that place to succor them,, began to cry, "Blessed be GOD, who has sent us succor." The enemies hearing this, were astonished, blew a retreat, and retired into the plain.

 

 That troop which was gone towards Tailleret; divided themselves into three companies. The first marched by the side of the mountain, burning many houses, and joined with the main army. The second company, which was 14O, marched higher, thinking to take the people unawares. But they were driven back by seven men. The third company attained the top of the mountain, thinking to enclose the people; but (as God would,) they of Angrogne, which carne to succor them, encountred with them, and put them to flight. They of Villars, of whom mention is made before, after they had refreshed themselves with a little bread and wine, (for the most part of them had eaten nothing all day,) chased their enemies till it was almost night, so fiercely, that the master, of the camp was obliged to send to the lord of Trinity (who was at Toure,) for succor, or else all would have been lost. And immediately he rode with all speed to Lucerne to save himself, hearing the alarm which was given at St. John by those of Angrogne, and fearing lest the way should have been stopped. The army retired with great difficulty, (notwithstanding the new aid which was sent them,) and with great loss of men. One of their captains confessed since, that if they had been pursued any further, they had fled all that night long. Since that time they never returned again into the Valley of Lucerne.

 

 On Monday, being the 7th of March next following, the lord of Trinity, to be revenged of those of the meadow oof Toure, assembled all the force that he could make with the gentlemen of the country. His army before was cornmonly about 4OOO, but it was now between 6 and 7OOO. He, with part of his army, encamped secretly in the night, in the midst of Angrogne, from whence the poor inhabitants were fled before. The next morning, after the sermon and prayers were ended, they perceived the other part of the army to be encamped at the foot of the mountain of Angrogne. Soon after, they perceived how both parts of the army coasted the hill's side, the one towards the other; and they were such a multitude, and marched in such array, that the poor people were astonished. Notwithstanding, the assembly fell down upon their knees, crying, " O Lord, help us." These two parts of the army joined together, near the meadow of Toure, and gave the assault in three several places. One of the bands mounted secretly by rock.., thinking to have enclosed the people in their bulwarks. But as soon as they who kept the bulwark below espied them, they forsook the place, and marched straight towards them; and as they marched, they met with the aid which was sent them from the Valley of Lucerne, coming as it were from heaven. They joining together, soon discomfited their enemies. The captain of this band was named Bastian, a man very expert in war. At his going out of his lodging, he threatened that he would do terrible things that day. His hostess hearing that, said, " Monsieur, if our religion be better than theirs, you shall have the victory; but if theirs be better than ours, you shall not prevail." Shortly after the captain was brought again into his inn, so wounded that he was not like to live. Then said his hostess, " Monsieur, it is now very evident that their religion is better than ours."

 

 There was another band which kept the top of the hill, to assault the bulwarks from thence. The middlemost bulwark was then assaulted, in which were very few to defend it; who, seeing the number of their enemies, retired, leaving therein five only. There was a huge rock not far from the aforesaid bulwark; behind this a great number of the enemies were hid. Anon two ensigns issued out, assuring themselves to win the bulwark; but immediately one of the ensign-bearers was wounded to death. Whereupon many recoiled back; the other set up his ensign upon the bulwark. They which were within had neither halbert, nor any other long weapon, but only ane pike, and the same without any iron: with this one

 

of the five threw down the ensign, and manfully beat back the scalers, and threw them down to the ground. Divers of the enemies were entered into the bulwark by a door below, and slew one of the five. The other four looked to be destroyed out of hand. Then one of the four chased away those which had entered below with stones; and the other three, leaving their guns, defended themselves likewise with great stones; and perceiving the band which was on the rocks to flee, they took courage, and withstood their enemies valiantly till their companions returned from the chase.

 

 In the mean time, the bulwark, which was upon the side of the mountain, was furiously assailed by half of the army. Those that were within suffered their enemies to approach near, without any gun shot, or other defense. The enemies marvelled much at this; but when they were at hand they fell upon them, some with throwing of stones, some with rolling down mighty stones, and some with guns. There was a huge stone rolled down, which passed through the whole army, and slew divers. The soldiers at that time had won a little cottage near the bulwark, which did much hurt to the poor men; but one devised to roll down an huge stone against the cottage, which so shook it, and amazed the soldiers, that they thought they had been all destroyed, and straight they fled, and would never enter into it again.

 

 Then the soldiers made certain fences of wood, five foot long, three foot broad, and of the thickness of three boards; but they were so sore vexed with the shot, that they were obliged to lay all those fences aside. The miners also made others of earth for the soldiers. But all these policies of the enemies availed nothing; for the slaughter was so great, that in divers places you might have seen three lying dead one upon another. God so wrought with the poor Christians, that the shot of two guns slew four men. One shot came so near the lord of Trinity's head, that it brake a wand which he bare in his hand; and seeing his soldiers murdered and wounded in such numbers on every side, he wept bitterly. He then retired with the rest of his army. He thought assuredly to have entered into the meadow of Toure that day. Many gentlemen also came to see the discomfiture of the poor Waldoys; and likewise those of the plain looked for nothing but to hear of their desolation. But God disposed it otherwise; for the lord of Trinity had much ado to save himself. They of the plain also, when they saw the number of the dead bodies ind the wounded to be so great, were exceedingly dismayed. The soldiers themselves confessed to them of the meadow of Toure, that if they had pursued them, they had been all slain. Many marvelled why the people did not follow the army, seeing the great discomfiture; but this was done for two causes. The one was, because they had already determined not to follow the army, being once retired, to avoid the effusion of blood, meaning only to defend themselves. The other cause was, for that they were weary, and had spent all their ammunition: for many of them had shot off about thirty times, and none of them under twenty. The rest of the army retired, crying, with a loud voice, "God fighteth for them, and we do them wrong."

 

 The next day, one of the principal captains of the army surrendered his charge to the lord of Trinity, saying unto him, That he would never fight against that people more: and upon that he departed. It is a marvelous thing, that in that combat there were but two of the Waldoys slain, and two hurt. Through the whole country of Piedmont, every man said, " God fighteth for them." One of the captains confessed that he had been at many fierce assaults, and sundry well-fought battles, but yet he never saw soldiers so amazed; yea, the soldiers themselves told him, they were so astonished that they could not strike. Moreover, they said, that this people never shot but they hurt or killed some of the soldiers. Indeed, it is wonderful; and marvelous are the judgments of GOD, that, notwithstanding so many combats, so much and so terrible shot, continually made against this poor people, yet all in a manner was to no effect: insomuch, that for all the said combats and conflicts, of the Angrognians there were but nine that miscarried; and the whole number of those that were slain were only fourteen persons.

 

 After that, the lord of Trinity sent two gentlemen of the Valley of Lucerne to them of Angrogne, to try if they would come to any agreement. To whom answer was made, that they would stand to their first answer. From that time he sent often to treat of the agreement; but what his meaning was might well appear. For when the poor people hoped for some agreement, they were most furiously assaulted. At last there was a day assigned in the Valley of Lucerne to confer, and a safe conduct was promised and granted. But the night before the ministers and rulers of Angrogne were to attend, they perceived a company of soldiers going up a hill, by which they were to pass. These hid themselves in houses by the way-side, thinking so take the Angrognians, who were sent to treat of the agreement. But they, having intelligence of this conspiracy, set a watch. It was an easy matter that night to have taken the lord of Trinity, and spoiled his whole camp. But the Angrognians and Lucernians would not do this, lest they should offend God.

 

 After this, the lord of Trinity, having left certain garrisons about Angrogne and the Valley of Lucerne, went to Perouse to succor the garrison there, being in great danger, and continued there a month. During which time, they of Angrogne, and the Valley of Lucerne, lived in more quietness than before; but yet they were much afflicted by reason of the scarcity of victuals; and especially those of the meadow of Toure, for they were spoiled of all. This poor people lived on milk and herbs, having very little bread. But afterwards, when they were even like to be famished, God of his goodness sent them better succor. The enemies thought to have taken the meadow of Toure by famine; for they took away the victuals that were in all places round about. Every household was suffered to have no more than should sustain them that day, that they might not succor this poor people.

 

 After that the lord of Trinity, being returned from Perouse to Lucerne, sent certain to treat of an agreement. But on Monday the 17th of April, by break of day, he sent certain bands of Spaniards, with the garrison of Toure, to the. mountain of Tailleret, by the way which leadeth to the meadow of Toure on the south side. They murdered men, v--)men, and children of Tailleret, whom they found in their beds. Then they marched along the mountain, towards the meadow of Toure. Anon the people perceived two other companies of soldiers, marching by Angrogne two several ways, to assault the meadow of Toure. In the morning, as soori as they rose, they blew their horns, for they saw the Spaniards already entered.’When they had made their prayers, every man ran to meet the enemies; some on the east-side, and the others on the south. They that first resisted the Spaniards, (who were already past the bulwarks,) were in the beginning but twelve gunners, and a few others, whom they caused to go up to the hill, and roll down great stones. These twelve, having found a fit place to stay the Spaniards, began to shoot at them. The Spaniards, seeing themselves assaulted both above and beneath, and the place so strait, recoiled back, and retired as fast as they could the same way by which they came. The people chased them into their camp, which was at Toure. As they fled they often found some forts, where they resisted for a little while, but they were always beaten out. This coipbat was with great slaughter of the Spaniards, also very many of them were sore hurt and wounded.

 

 Amongst others, there was one slain in that battle, for whom the lord of Trinity much lamented, saying, That he would rather have lost a whole band than that man. The other two companies, which marched by Angrogne, perceiving the Spaniards to be so beaten, retired in haste. Upon that, the lord of Trinity went to Cavers, three miles from Lucerne, being in great perplexity; and as he was about to send succor to the Spaniards, he heard the sound of a drum above Lucerne, and suspected that there was an army of the Waldoys coming against him. Upon this, divers of the soldiers fled away by the plain, crying, -ll is lost. If the Waldoys had pursued, as they easily might have done, the camp had that day been chased out of Lucerne. The poor people lacked no courage to do so; for although they had neither eat nor drank all the day before, and had so sore traveled and fought, yet they said, If they had but a morsel of bread, they durst take upon them to enter into the camp of their enemies. Within a few days, they of Angrogne were advertised by the lord of Trinity's letters, that he fully determined to cut down their trees and vines, and destroy their corn on the ground. The day was assigned, and horsemen appointed, with all speed to execute this. But God prevented it; for the night before this should be executed, the lord of Trinity received letters from the duke, which staid his enterprize.

 

 About this season, the chief rulers and ministers of the Waldoys, requested earnestly the lord of Raconis to present a supplication, which they had made to the dutchess of Savoy: for they had intelligence, that she was sore offended that her subjects were so cruelly handled. In which supplication they declared the equity of their cause, protesting all due obedience to the duke, their sovereign lord, and humbly besought her grace to appease the displeasure which the duke had conceived against them, by the false surmises of their adversaries; and if there were any thing wherein they had offended him, they most humbly craved his gracious pardon. After this supplication was viewed and read by the said dutchess, she so persuaded the duke, that an answer was made with these conditions, declared in the following articles

 

1. "That letters patent shall shortlybe made by the duke's highness, by which it may appear, that he has pardoned them of the Valleys of Angrogne, Bohy, Villars, Valquichard, Rora, Tailleret, La Rua de Bonet, St. Martin, Perouse, Roccapiata, St. Bartholomew, and all such as have aided them, of all such faults as they have committed, as well in bearing arms against his highness, as against the lords and certain other gentlemen whom he retained and kept in his protection. 2. That it shall be lawful for them to have their congregations, sermons, and other ministries of their religion in places accustomed. 3. That it shall not be lawful fo: them to come to any other of his highness's dominions, nor to have their preachings, or disputations, out of their own borders. And if they be examined of their faith, it shall be lawful for them to answer without danger of punishment in body or goods. 4. It shall be permitted to all of them of the towns and villages of the said vallies, who, at this present are fled, and continue in the said religion, notwithstanding any promise or abjuration made before this war, to return to their houses with their households, and to live according to the same, going and coming to the sermons and assemblies which shall be made by their ministers. 5. The goods already seized as forfeit, shall be restored to all the inhabitants of the said vallies, and to all that are fled, and continue in the said religion. 6. It shall be lawful for them to recover, by way of justice, of their neighbors, their moveable goods and cattle; and that which has been sold, they shall also recover by way of justice, so they restore the price for which it has been sold. 7. All the freedoms and privileges, as well general as particular, granted by his highness's predecessors, or by himself, whereof they shall make proof by public writing, shall be confirmed unto them.

 

"And, as it is known to every man, that the prince may build fortresses in his country, where it shall please him, without contradiction; nevertheless, to take all suspicion out of the minds of the Waldoys, it is declared, That if at any time hereafter his highness should make a fort of Villars, the inhabitants of the said place shall not be constrained to bear the charges, but only as they shall think good lovingly to aid their prince. Which fort being built, a captain shall be appointed, who shall attempt nothing but the service of his highness, without offence to the inhabitants, either in their goods or consciences. It shall be lawful for them, before the discharging of their ministers, such as it shall please his highness to have discharged, to choose others in their stead. The mass shall be kept in all the parishes of the vallies, where the sermons, assemblies, and other ministries of their religion are made; but none shall be compelled to be present thereat, nor to aid or favor such as shall use that service. All the expenses borne by his highness in this war, shall be forgiven and released to them forever. And his highness will command that the writings for that cause made, shall be annulled and cancelled. All the prisoners shall be restored, which shall be found in the hands of the soldiers, paying a reasonable ransom, according to their goods; and those which shall be adjudged to be wrongfully taken shall be released without ransom.

 

 " Finally, It shall be lawful for all them of the said valleys, of what degree, estate, and condition soever, (except ministers,) to dwell, and daily converse with the rest of his highness's subjects, and to tarry, go and come, to sell and buy, and use all trades of merchandizes, in his highness's country: and in so doing, they shall not be molested by any means, in body or goods; but shall remain under the protection of his highness.

 

 “For observation hereof, George Monastier, one of the elders of Angrogne; Constantion Dialestini, one of the elders of Villars; Pirrone Arduino, sent from Boby; Michael Raymondet, sent from Tailleret, and of La Rua de Bouet, bordering upon Toure; John Malenote, sent from St. John; Peter Paschall, sent from the valley of St. Martin; and Thomas Romam, of St. Germaine, promise for them and their communities severally, that the contents of these conclusions shall be inviolably kept, and for breach thereof, do submit themselves to such punishment as shall please his highness; promising likewise to cause the chief of the families to allow and confirm the said promise.

 

 “The honorable lord of Raconis does promise, that the duke's highness shall confirm and allow the aforesaid conclusions, at the intercession and special favor of the noble lady, the princess. In testimony whereof the aforesaid lord of Raconis has confirmed these present conclusions with his own hand; and the ministers have likewise subscribed, in the name of all the valleys; and they which can write, in the name of all their communities.

 

 “At Cavor, the 5th day of June, 1561.

 

 PHILIP, of Savoy.

 

 FRANCIS VALLA, Minister of Villars.

 

 CLAUDIUS BERGIUS, Minister of Tailleret.

 

 GEORGIUS MONASTER'IUS.

 

 MICHAEL RAYMONDET."

 

 This accord being thus made and passed, by means of the dutchess of Savoy, the poor Waldoys have been in quiet until now. And God of his infinite goodness, having delivered them out of so many troubles, has set them at liberty to serve him purely, and with quietness of conscience.

 

THE MARTYRDOMS

 

OF

 

MRS. SMITH, Widow; ROBERT HATCHES, ARCHER, HAWKINS, and THOMAS BOND, Shoemakers; `VRIGSHAM, a Glover; LANDSALE, a Hosier; and ROBERT SILKEB.

 

 THE principal cause of their being apprehended, was, the teaching of their children and family the Lord's prayer and ten commandments in English: for this they were taken up on Ash-Wednesday, and put in prison; some in places tinder ground, and some in chambers,, till the Friday following. Then they were sent to a monastery, called Mackstock Abbey, six miles from Coventry. During which time their children were sent for to appear before the warden of the Grey Friars, in Coventry; who straitly charged them, upon pain of suffering such death as their fathers should, in no wise to meddle any more with the Lord's prayer, the creed, and commandments in English. Upon Palm Sunday, the fathers of these children were brought back again to Coventry, and condemned to be burnt. Only Mrs. Smith was dismissed for the present, and sent away. And because it was evening, and somewhat dark, Simon Nlourton, the sumner, offered to go hone with her. As he was leading her by the arm, he heard the rattling of a scroll within her sleeve; "Hey, (says he,) what have you Here" And so took it from leer, and saw it was the Lord's prayer, the articles of belief, and the ten commandments in English. When the sumner heard this, " Ah! sirrah," said he, " come, as good now as another time;" and so brought her back again to the bishop, where she was immediately condemned, and so burnt with the six men before named, April 4, 1519.

 

 In the same number was also Robert Silkeb, who, when these were apprehended, fled away, and for that time escaped. But about two years after he was taken and brought to Coventry, where he was burnt the morrow after he came thither, which was January 14,1521. When the people began to murmur, concerning the cruelty showed upon these poor martyrs, and their unjust death, the bishop, with his officers and priests, caused it to be noised abroad, that they were not burnt for having the Lord's prayer and the commandments in English, but because they eat flesh on Fridays, and other fast days.

 

THE MARTYRDOM

 

OF

 

THOMAS BILNEY.

 

 THOMAS BILNEY was brought up in the University of Cambridge, from a child, profiting in all kinds of liberal sciences, even unto the profession of both laws. But at the last having gotten a better school-master, even the Holy Spirit of CHRIST, who endued his heart, by his inspiration, with the knowledge of better things; forsaking the knowledge of man's laws, he converted his study to those things which tended to godliness. And, as he himself was greatly inflamed with the love of true religion, so he had an incredible desire to allure many to the same; desiring nothing more, than to encourage any to the love of CHRIST. Neither were his labors in vain; for he converted many of his followers to the knowledge of the gospel, amongst which number were Thomas Arthur, and Mr. Hugh Latimer; which Latimer, at that time, was crosskeeper at Cambridge, bringing it forth upon procession days. At last Bilney, forsaking the University, went into many places, teaching and preaching, with Arthur, who accompanied him from the University. The authority of Thomas Wolsey, at that time, was great, but his pride and pomp much greater. Whereupon Bilney, marvelling at the incredible insolence of the clergy, began to reprove this excessive pomp, and also to pluck at the authority of the bishop of Rome. It was now time for the cardinal to awake; who thought good speedily to withstand these beginnings. Whereupon he caused the said Bilney and Arthur to be apprehended and cast into prison.

 

 After several examinations, both Mr. Arthur and Bilney were at length prevailed upon to abjure. But, from this time, Mr. Bilney had no rest in his spirit, till he was on the brink of utter despair; so vehemently was he pierced with sorrow and remorse for almost two years, from the year 1529, to 1531. Then he, by God's grace, came at length to some quiet of conscience, and was resolved to give his life for the confession of that truth, which he had before renounced. Accordingly he took his leave of certain of his friends in Trinity-Hall, at ten o'clock at night, and said, That he would go to Jerusalem; alluding to the words of CHRIST going to Jerusalem, and immediately he departed to Norfolk; and there preached, first privily in houses, to confirm the brethren and sisters, whom he had converted to CHRIST. Then be piee,,shed openly in the fields, confessing his fact, and publicly taught the doctrine, which he had before abjured; and willed all men to take warning by him, and never trust their fleshly friends in cases of religion. And so, going forward on his journey, he departed from thence to Norwich, where he was apprehended, and carried to prison. In the mean season, the friars, with their doctors, civil and canon, resorted to him, busily laboring to persuade him not to die in those opinions, saying, He should be damned hod, and soul if he did. Among whom the }bishop sent to him, first Dr. Call, provincial of the Grey Friars, and Dr. Stokes, an Augustine friar, who lay with him in prison, till the writ came that he should be burned. Dr. Call, by the word of GOD, through the means of Bilney's doctrine and good life, was reclaimed to the gospel's side. But Bilney, as he had planted himself upon the firm rock of God's word, so continued unto the end.

 

 After his examination and condemnation before Dr. Pelles, doctor of law, and chancellor, he first was degraded, and then committed to the lay-power, and to the two sheriffs of the city, of whom Thomas Necton was one. This Necton was Bilney's special friend. But such was the tyranny of that time, that he could do no otherwise but receive him. Who, notwithstanding, as he could not bear to be present at his death; so, for the time that be was in his custody, he caused him to be more friendly looked to, than he was before.

 

 After this, the Friday following at night, Mr. Bilney had divers of his friends resorted unto him in the Guildhall, where he was kept. One of whom, finding him taking some food, with a cheerful heart and quiet mind, said, " That he was glad to see him so heartily refresh himself, so shortly before his painful departure." He answered, " I follow the example of the husbandmen of the country, who having a ruinous house to dwell in, bestow cost to hold it up, as long as they can; so do I now refresh this ruinous house of my body with God's creatnres, in thanks to him, as ye see. 

 

 Then having some godly talk with his friends, one put liim in mind, " That though the fire, which he should suffer the next day, should be of great heat unto his body, yet the comfort of God's Spirit should cool it to his everlasting refreshing." At this word, putting his hand to the flame of the candle, (as he had done many times before,) and feeling the heat thereof, "O, (said he,) I feel by experience, and have known it long by philosophy, that fire, by God's ordinance, is naturally hot, but yet I am persuaded, by God's holy word, and by the experience of some, spoken of therein, that they felt no heat in the flame; and I constantly believe, however the stubble of this body shall be wasted by it, yet my soul and spirit shall be purged thereby; a pain for the time, followed by joy unspeakable." And here he much treated of this place in Scripture, " Fear not, for I have redeemed thee, and called thee by thy name, you art mine. When you goest through the water I will br: with thee, and the floods shall not overflow thee. When you walk in the fire, it shall not burn thee, and the flame shall not kindle upon thee, for I am the Lord thy GOD, the Holy One of Israel."

 

 On Saturday, when the officers (as the manner is,) with their halberds were ready to receive him, and to lead him to the place of execution, which was Bishop's-gate, in a low valley, called, the Lollard's Pit, under St. LeoItard's Hill, cnvironed about with great hills, (which place was chosen for the people's quiet, sitting to see the execution,) at his coming out of the prison-door, one of his friends came to himrl, and with few words, prayed him, in God's behalf, to be constant. He answered, " Ye see when the mariner is entered his ship to sail on the troubled sea, he is tossed for awhile on the billows, but yet hopes to come to the quiet haven: so I now hope, that whatsoever storms I shall feel, yet my ship shall soon be in the haven; I doubt not thereof, by the grace of GOD, desiring you to help me with your prayers." Ile then went forth, accompanied with one Dr. Warner, whom he chose, as his old acquaintance, to be with him for his ghostly comfort. He gave much alms as he passed along. At last he came to the place of execution, apparelled in a layman's gown, with his arms out, his hair being piteously mangled at his degradation. When he drew near to the stake, while the fire was preparing, he spoke thus to the people, "-Good people, I am come hither to die, and I was born to die; and that ye might testify that I depart this life as a true Christian, in a right belief towards Almighty GOD, I will rehearse to you, in a steadfast faith, the articles of my creed." Then he began to rehearse them in order, oft lifting up his eyes and hands to GOD, and at the article of CHRIST's incarnation, having a little meditation in himself, and coming to the word crucifled, he humbly bowed himself, and made reverence; and so he proceeded, without any words of recantation, or charging any man for procuring his death.

 

 This done, he put off his gown, and went to the stake, and kneeled upon a little ledge coming out of the stake, whereon he should afterward stand to be better seen, he made his private prayer with earnest elevation of his eyes and hands to heaven. He ended his prayers with the 143d Psalm, beginning thus, " Hear my prayer, O Lord, consider my desire." The next verse he repeated in deep meditation thrice, " Enter not into judgment with thy servant, for in thy sight shall no man living be justified." After that, turning to the officers, he asked them if they were ready They answered, yes. Whereupon he put off his jacket and doublet, and in his hose and shirt went to the stake, and standing there upon the ledge, the chain was cast about him. As he stood there Dr. Warner came to bid him farewell; who spoke but few words for weeping. Mr. Bilney, gently smiling upon him, inclined his body to speak to him a few words of thanks; and the last were these, " Doctor, feed your flock! feed your flock! that when the Lord cometh, he may find you so doing. Good doctor, farewell, and pray for me."

 

 While he thus stood upon the ledge, certain friars came to him, and said, `' O Master Bilney, the people are persuaded that we have procured your death, and therefore it is likely they will withdraw their charitable alms from us all, except you declare your charity towards us." Whereupon he spoke with a loud voice to the people, and said, " I pray you, good people, be never the worse to these men for my sake, as though they were the authors of my death; it was not they." Then the officers put reeds and faggots about his body, and set fire to the reeds, which making a very great flame, sparkled and deformed his face. He, holding up his hands, smote upon his breast, crying sometimes "Jesus," sometimes ~~ I believe." But the flame was thrice blown away from him by the violence of the wind; and for a little pause he stood without flame. At length the wood took fire, and burnt more fiercely, and he soon gave up the ghost; and his body, being withered, bowed downward upon the chain. Then one of the officers with his halbert smote out the staple, in the stake behind him, and let his body fall into the bottom of the fire, and so he was consumed.

 

THE MARTYRDOM

 

OF

 

RICHARD B AYFIELD.

 

 RICHARD BAYFIELD, sometime a monk of Bury, was converted by Dr. Barns, and two godly men of London, brick-makers, Mr. Maxwell, and Mr. Stacy, wardens of their company; who were grafted in the doctrine of JESUS CHRIST, and converted many men and women, both in London and in the country; and once a year, at their own cost, went about to visit the brethren and sisters scattered abroad. He prospered so mightily in two years' space, that he was cast into the prison of his house, and there sorely whipped with a gag in his mouth. He continued there three quarters of a year, before Dr. Barns could get him out; with whom he afterwards went to Cambridge. He had not been there long, before he tast-:;d so well of good letters, that he never returned to his abbey, but went to London, to Maxwell and Stacy, and they kept him secretly awhile, and then conveyed him beyond the sea. This Bayfield mightily prospered in the knowledge of GOD, and was beneficial to Mr. Tyndale and Mr. Frith; for he brought substance with him, and sold all their works, both in France and England. At last, coming to London, to Mr. Smith's house, in Bucklersbury, he was taken and carried to Lollard's tower, and from thence to the Coal-house, where he was worse handled than he was before, in the Lollard's tower. He was tied both by the neck, middle, and legs, standing upright by the walls, divers times manacled, in order to force him to accuse others, that had bought his books; yet he accused none; but stood to his confession of faith, even to the end. He was in the consistory of Paul's thrice put to his trial, whether he would abjure or not He said, " He would dispute for his faith;" and so he did, to their shame.

 

 On Monday, November 2O, 1531, the bishop of London pronounced sentence against him in the choir of the cathedral church of St. Paul. And when he had degraded him, kneeling upon the highest step of the altar, he took his crosier staff and smote him on the breast, so that he threw him down backwards, and brake his head, so that he swooned. When he came to himself, he thanked God " that he was delivered from the church of AntiCHRIST, and that he was come into the true church of JESUS CHRIST, militant here on earth; and I trust, anon, (said he,) to

 

he in heaven with JESUS CHRIST, and the church triumphant, forever." He was then led forth through the choir to Neivgate, and there rested about an hour in prayer, and so went to the fire in his apparel, manfully and joyfriily. For lack of a speedy fire, he continued half an hour alive. And when the left arm was burnt, he rubbed it with his right hand, and it fell from his body. He then continued in prayer to the end without moving.

 

THE MARTYRDOM

 

OF

 

JAMES BAINHAM.

 

 JAMES BAINHAM, a gentleman of Gloucestershire, being virtuously brought up by his parents, had knowledge both of the Latin and Greek tongue. After that he gave himself to the study of the law, being a man of a virtuous disposition, and godly conversation, mightily addicted to prayer, an earnest reader of the Scriptures, a great maintainer of the godly, a visitor of prisoners, liberal to scholars, very merciful to his clients, using equity and justice to the poor, very diligent in giving counsel to all the needy, widows, fatherless and afflicted, without money or reward.

 

 Having been Long suspected of what they call heresy, he was at last accused to Sir Thomas More, arrested by a sergeant at arms, and carried out of the Middle-Temple to the chancellor's house at Chelsea, where be continued in free prison a while, till. Sir Thomas saw he could not pervert him. He then cast him into prison in his own house, And after whipping him at a tree in his garden, called the tree of troth, he sent him to the Tower to be racked; which was done in his presence, in such a manner that he lamed him, because he would not accuse the gentlemen of the temple, his acquaintance. After they had thus tortured him, he was brought before John Stokesley, bishop of London, on the 15th of December, 1531. He then boldly confessed the truth: but by little and little he was so shaken, that on February the 5th, 1532, he read an abjuration thereof, before the bishop and Sir Thomas More, and subscribed it with his own hand.

 

 The chancellor receiving the abjuration, sentenced him first to pay twenty pounds to the king; after that to go before the cross in procession to St. Paul's, and to stand before the preacher during the sermon, with a faggot upon his shoulder, the next Sunday, and so to return with the sumner to prison again, there to abide the bishop's determination. February 17, he was released and sent home; where he had scarce been a month, before he bewailed his abjuration, and was never quiet in his mind till he had uttered his fall to all his acquaintance, and asked GOD, and all the world, forgiveness before the congregation in Bow-lane. The next Sunday he came to St. Austin's, with the New Testament in his hand, and standing up before the people, _declared openly, with weeping, That he had denied GOD, and prayed all the people to forgive him, and not to do as he had done: "For if I should not return again to the truth, this Word of God (said he, holding the New Testament in his hand,) would

 

damn me, both body and soul, at the day of judgment."

 

 Then he prayed every body rather to die than to do as he had done: " For, (said he,) I would not feel such a hell again, as I have felt, for all the world's good." He also wrote to the bishop, to his brother, and to others; so that he was shortly after apprehended and committed to the

 

Tower.

 

 On the 26th of April, John Foxford, vicar-general to the bishop of London, pronounced and condemned. him as a relapsed heretic, damnably fallen into sundry heresies, and so to be left to the secular power. After sentence given, he was delivered into the hands of Sir Richard

 

a Gresham, sheriff, then present; who caused him, by his officers, to be carried to Newgate. During his imprisonment he was cruelly handled. For almost a fortnight he lay in the stocks in the bishop's coal-house, with irons upon his legs. Then he was carried to the lord chancellor's, and there chained to a post two nights. Then he was carried to Fulham, where he was cruelly handled for fortnight; then to the Tower, where he lay a fortnight, scourged with whips, to make him revoke his opinions. From thence he was carried to Barking, then to Chelsea, and there condemned, and so to Newgate; and from thence to Smithfield to be burned, at three o'clock in the afternoon, April 3O, 1532. It is notoriously to be observed, that as he was at the stake, in the midst of the flaming fire, which had half consumed his arms and legs, he spoke these words, "O ye papists, behold, ye look for miracles, and here now you may see a miracle; for in this fire I feel no more pain than if I were in a bed of down: it is to me as a bed of roses."

 

THE MARTYRDOM

 

OF

 

JOHN FRITH AND ANDREW HEWET.

 

 JOHN FRITH began his study at Cambridge. He had a wonderful promptness of wit, and a ready capacity to receive and understand any thing; neither was there any diligence wanting in him; whereby it came to pas t o he was not only a lover of learning, but also an exquisitely

 

learned man. In which, when he had labored certain years, at last he fell into acquaintance with William Tyndale, through whose instructions he first received the seed of the gospel and sincere godliness into his heart.

 

 At this time Thomas Wolsey was preparing to build a college in Oxford, now named CHRIST's-church, and called thither all such men as were found to excel in any kind of learning and knowledge. Among these was John Frith; who, conferring together upon the abuses of religion, were accused of heresy to the cardinal, and cast into a prison, within a deep cave under the ground of the same college where their salt fish was laid; so that through the filthy stench thereof they were all infected, and several of them died.

 

 After the death of these, John Frith, with others, was dismissed out of prison by the cardinal's letter, who sent word that he would not have them so straitly handled. Frith went over the sea, and after two years came over to the prior of Reading. Being at Reading, he was taken for a vagabond, and set in the stocks. Where, after he had sat a long time, and was almost pined with hunger, he desired that the school-master of the town might be brought to him, which was one Leonard Cox, a man very well learned. As soon as he came unto him, Frith began in the Latin tongue, to bewail his captivity. The schoolmaster did not only take pity upon him, but began to love such an excellent wit and disposition unlocked for, especially in such a state. Afterward, they conferring more together upon many things, fell from the Latin into the Greek. When the school-master heard him rehearse Homer's verses so promptly by heart, he greatly admired him; whereupon he went with all speed to the magistrates, grievously complaining of the injuries done to so excellent a young man. Thus Frith, through the help of the school-master, was set at liberty.

 

 But his safety continued not long; Sir Thomas More persecuted him both by sea and land, besetting all the ways and havens, and promising great rewards if any man would bring hiin any news or tidings of him; while Prith, being beset on every side, and not knowing which way to turn, sought for some place to hide himself; fleeing from one place to another, and often changing both his garments and place, yet could be in safety no where, no, not amongst his friends. At last, being traitorously taken, he was sent to the Tower of London.

 

 On the 2Oth of June, he was brought before the bishops of London, Winchester, and Lincoln, who were sitting in St. Paul's. These put to him certain interrogatories upon the sacrament of the supper, and purgatory. To which, when he had answered, he aft erward subscribed his answers with his own hand, in these words: I Frith, think thus; and as I think, so have I said, written, taught, and affirmed, and published in my books."

 

 When he could not be persuaded to recant, he was condemned to be burnt, by the bishop of London. The bishop of London then directed his letter to Sir Stephen Peacock, mayor, and to the sheriffs of London, far the receiving of him. The 4th of July, 1553, he was carried by them into Smithfield, and tied to the stake, which he embraced with great joy. The wind blowing the flame from him to Andrew Hewet, who was tied to his back, made his death somewhat the longer; but, as if he had felt no pain, he seemed rather to rejoice for his companion, than to be careful for himself. This truly is the power and strength of CHRIST conquering in his saints. May he sanctify us together with them, and direct us in all things to the glory of his most holy name! Amen.

 

 ANDREW HEWET, born at Feversham, in Kent, a young man, twenty-four years old, an apprentice to a taylor in Watling-street, was he that was burned with John Frith. The 2Oth of April, the bishop of London, with the bishops of Lincoln and Winchester, called him before them. Being demanded what he thought touching the sacrament of the Lord's-Supper; he answered, "I think as John Frith cloth," Then the bishops smiled at him; and Stokesley, bishop of Lincoln, said, Why, Frith is an heretic, and already condemned to be burned; and except you revoke thine opinion, you shall be burned also with him." Truly (said he,) I am content therewith. The bishops used many persuasions to allure this good man from the truth to follow them; but he, manfully persisting in the truth, would not recant. Wherefore he was carried into Smithfield with Frith, and there burned. When they were at the stake, one Dr. Cook, a parson in London, openly admonished all the people, that they should in no wise pray for them, no more than they would for a dog. At which words Frith, smiling, desired the Lord to forgive them. Thus these two blessed martyrs committed their souls into the hands of God.

 

THE MARTYRDOM

 

OF

 

THOMAS BENET.

 

 THOMAS BENET was born in Cambridge, and had the degree of master of arts in that university. He was a man well learned, and of a godly disposition, an acquaintance of Thomas Bilney. The more he greww in the knowledge of God and his holy Word, the more he abhorred the corrupt state of religion then used; and therefore thinking his own country to be no safe place for him, and being desirous to live in more freedom of conscience, he left the university and went into Devonshire, in the year 1524, and dwelt first in a market town, called Torrington. He there kept a school, for the better maintenance of himself and his wife. But that town not serving his expectation, after one year, he came to Exeter, and hiring a house there, in a street called the Butcherrow, he taught school for his livelihood. He was of a quiet behavior, of a godly conversation, and of a very courteous nature, humble to all men. His greatest delight was to be at sermons, whereof he was a diligent and attentive hearer. The time which he had to spare from teaching, he gave wholly to his private study in the Scriptures, having no conference with any body but such only as he found were zealous for God's true religion.

 

 But as every tree has its due time to bring forth fruit, so did it appear by this man. For he daily seeing the glory of God so blasphemed, and the bishop of Rome so extolled, was so troubled in spirit, that he could not be quiet till he uttered his mind therein. Wherefore he told certain of his friends, he could no longer endure, but must needs expose their abominations; and for the testimony of his conscience, and the defense of God's true religion, would yield himself to shed his blood therein; alleging,. that his death would be more profitable to the church of GOD, and more for the edifying of his people, than his life. To whose persuasions, when his friends had yielded, they promised to pray to God for him, that he might be strong in the cause, and continue a faithful soldier to the end. Which done, in October he wrote his mind thus, upon several scrolls of paper, "The pope is antiCHRIST; and we ought to worship God only, and 116 saints." These he fixed upon the doors of the cathedral church.

 

 These bills being found, there was no small ado, and no little search made for the heretick that set them up. But not being able to discover him, the bishop proceeded to curse him, with bell, book and candle, in manner and form following " By the authority of God the Father Almighty, and of the blessed virgin Mary, of St. Peter and Paul, and of the holy saints, we excommunicate, we utterly curse and ban, commit and deliver to the devil of hell, him o: her, whatsoever he or she be, that have, in spite of God and St. Peter, whose church this is, in spite of all holy saints, and in spite of our most holy father, the pope, God's vicar here on earth, fixed up with wax, such cursed and heretical, bills, full of blasphemy, upon the doors of this, and other holy churches within this city. Accursed may they be, and given, body and soul, to the devil. Cursed be they, lie, or she, in cities and towns, in fields, in ways, in paths, in houses, out of houses, and in all other places, standing, lying, or rising, walking, running, waking, sleeping, eating, drinkin7, and whatsoever thing they do besides. We give them utterly over to the power of the fiend, and let us quench their souls, if they be dead, this night in the pains of hell-fire, as this candle is now quenched and put out: (and with that he put out one of the candles:) and let us pray to GOD, if they be alive, that their eyes may be put out, as the light of this candle is: (so he put out the other candle.) and let us pray to GOD, and to our lady, and to St. Peter and Paul, and all holy saints, that all the senses of their body may fail them, and that they may have no feeling, as now the light of this candle is gone, (and so he put out a third candle,) except they, he, or she, come openly now and confess their blasphemy, and by repentance, as in them shall lie, make satisfaction unto GOD, our lady, St. Peter, and the worshipful company of this cathedral church; and as this holy cross staff now falleth down, so may they, except they repent, and show themselves;" and, one first taking away the cross, the staff fell down.

 

 Benet could now no longer forbear, but fell to great laughter, and for a space could not cease. Those that were next to him, asked for what cause he should laugh so. " My friends," said he, " who can forbear" Straightway a noise was made, "Here is the heretic, here is the heretic, hold him fast, hold him fast." Yet he escaped to his house. Where, not being able to digest the lies there preached, he renewed his former bills, and caused his boy, early in the morning following, to set them upon the gates of the church-yard. As the boy was setting up one of the bills, one going to hear a mass, (which was then daily said about five in the morning,) found the boy at the gate, and pulling down the bill, brought the same, together with the boy, before the mayor of the city, and thereupon, Benet, being known and taken, was committed to ward. On the morrow, the canons and heads of the city met; to whom he answered, " It was I that put up those bills, and would do it again; for I have written nothing in them but truth." " Couldst not You," said they, " as well have declared thy mind by mouth, as by putting up bills of blasphemy" CQ No," said he, " I put up the bills, that many should read and hear what abominable blasphemers ye are, and that they might the better know your antiCHRIST, the pope. If I had been heard to speak but one word, I should have been clapped fast in prison, and the matter hidden; but now I trust more of your doings will come to light; for God will no longer suffer you.

 

 The next day, after, he was sent to the bishop, who committed him to a prison, called the hislmop's prison, where he was kept in stocks and strong irons. Then the bishop, with his clergy, began to examine him, and he answered in such a sober manner, and so learnedly proved his assertions, that not only confounded his adversaries, but also brought them greatly to admire him. The friars took great pains to persuade him to recant, and acknowledge his fault, touching the bills; but God had appointed him to be a blessed witness of his holy name, and to bid defiance to all their persuasions. "Look," said lie, "where they are, that confess the true name of JESUS CHRIST, and where CHRIST only is the head, and under him the prince of the realm, to order all bishops, ministers, and preachers, and to see their do their duties in setting forth the glory of God only, by preaching his word; and where it is preached, that CHRIST is our only advocate, mediator, and patron before God his Father, making intercession for us, and where the true faith and confidence in CHRIST's death and passion, and his only merits and deservings are extolled, and our own depressed; where the sacrament is duly administered without superstition or idolatry, in remembrance of his blessed passion, and only sacrifice upon the cross once for all, and where no superstition reigneth, of that church will I be."

 

 Then stepped to him a grey friar, and laid before him great and many dangers. " I take God to record," said Benet, " my life is not dear to me. I am content to depart from it, seeing your detestable doings to the utter destruction of God's flock. And for my part, I can no longer forbear. I had rather bj death, (which I know is not far off) depart this life, that I may no longer behold your detestable idolatries and superstitions, or be subject unto antiCHRIST, your pope." "Our pope," said the friar, " is the vicar of GOD, and our ways are the ways of God." " I pray you," said Benet, " depart from me, and tell me not of your ways. He only is my way, which says, I am the way, the truth, and the life. In this way will I walk; his doings shall be my example; not yours, nor your false popes. His truth will I embrace, not the lies and falsehood of you and your pope. His everlasting life will I seek, the true reward of all faithful people. Away from me, I pray you. Vex my soul no longer. Ye shall not prevail. There is no good example in you; no truth in you; no life to be hoped for at your hands. Ye are all more vain than vanity itself. If I should hear and follow you, everlasting death would hang over me; a just reward for all them that love the life of this world. Away from me, your company liketh me not."

 

 A whole week, night and day, he was applied to by them. Mean time, being in prison, his wife provided sustenance for him, and when she lamented, he comforted her, and gave her many godly exhortations, and prayed her not to move him to yield to his adversaries. When they had done what they could, and perceived that he would by no means relent, then they proceeded to judgment, condemning him, (as the manner is,) to be burnt. The writ being brought from London, they delivered him to Sir Thomas Denis, knight, then sheriff of Devonshire, to be burnt, Jan. 15, 1531. The mild martyr, glad that his end was so near, yielded himself as the sheep before the shearer. And being brought to his execution, in a place called Livery-dole, without Exeter, he made his most humble confession and prayer to Almighty GOD, and requested all the people to do the like for him, whom he exhorted with such gravity and sobriety, to seek the true honor of GOD, and the true knowledge of him, and to leave the imagination of man's invention, that all that heard and saw him were astonished and in great admiration. The most part of the people, as also the scribe who wrote the sentence of condemnation against him, confessed that he was God's servant, and a good man.

 

 Nevertheless, two esquires, namely, Thomas Carew and John Barnehouse, standing at the stake by him, first with fair promises, but at length with threatenings, willed him to revoke his errors, and to call upon our lady and the saints, to whom he answered with all meekness, " No, no, it is God only upon whose name we must call, and we have no other advocate, but only JESUS CHRIST, who died for us, and now sitteth at the right hand of the Father; and by him we must offer and make our prayers to GOD, if we would have them heard." Barnehouse was so enraged at this, that he took a furzebush upon a pike, and being set on fire, thrust it unto his face, saying, " Ah! you whoreson heretic, pray to our lady, or by God's wounds, I will make thee do it." To whom he meekly answered, "Alas! sir, trouble me not." And holding up his hands, he said, " Father, forgive them." Whereupon, the gentlemen caused the wood to be set on fire, and therewith this godly man lifted up his hands and eyes to heaven, saying, "O Lord, receive my spirit." And so continuing in prayer, never stirred nor strove, till his life was ended.

 

THE MARTYRDOM

 

OF

 

WILLIAM TYNDALE.

 

 WILLIAM TYNDALE was born about the borders of Wales, and brought up from a child in the university of Oxford, where he increased in the knowledge of tongues, and liberal arts, and especially in the knowledge of the Scriptures; insomuch that he read privily to certain students and fellows of Magdalen college, instructing them in the knowledge and truth of the Scriptures. Whose manners and conversation were such, that all they that knew him, esteemed him a man of most virtuous disposition, and of unspotted life.

 

 He removed from thence to the university of Cambridge; where, after he had made his abode a certain space, being now further ripened in the knowledge of God's Word, he resorted to one Mr. Welch, a knight of Gloucestershire, and was there school-master to his children. To this gentleman there often resorted sundry abbots, deans, archdeacons, with divers other doctors and beneficed rnen; who, sitting at the table with Mr. Tyadale, used frequently to talk of learned men, as of Luther and Erasmus; also of divers other controversies and questions upon the Scripture. Mr. Tyndale spared not o she unto them, simply and plainly his judgment; and when they varied from him in opinion, he would lay before them the manifest places of the Scriptures, to confute their errors, and confirm his sayings. And thus continued they for a season, reasoning and contending together, till at length they bore a secret grudge against him.

 

 At that time he was about the translation of a book called Enchiridion Xilitis Christiani, which being translated, he delivered to his master and lady. After they had read it, the prelates were not so often called to the house, neither had they the same countenance when they came. They, supposing this came by the means of Mr. Tyndale, refrained themselves, and at last utterly withdrew, and came no more.

 

 Not long after, there was a sitting appointed by the bishop's chancellor, and warning was given to the priests to appear, amongst whom Mr. Tyndale was also warned to be there. Whether he had any misdoubt by their threatenings, or knowledge given him that they would lay some things to his charge, it is uncertain; but this is certain, that by the way, he cried heartily to GOD, to give him strength to stand in the truth of his Word. When the time came, the chancellor threatened him grievously, and laid to his charge many things, whereof no witness could be produced; notwithstanding the priests of the country were present. And thus Mr. Tyndale, escaping out of their hands, returned to his master again.

 

Not far off dwelt a certain doctor, who had been chancellor to a bishop, an old familiar acquaintance with Mr. Tyndale. Unto him. Mr. Tyndale went, for he durst be bold to disclose his heart to him. The doctor said, " Do you not know that, the pope is very antiCHRIST, whom the Scripture speaketh pf But beware what you say P for if you shall be perceived to be of that opinion, it will cost you your life. I hate been an officer of his; but I have given it up, and defy him and all his works." Not long after, Mr. Tyndale was in company with a certain divine, and in a dispute with him, he drove him to that issue, that the doctor burst out into these words, " We were better to be without God's law, than the pope's." Mr. Tyndale hearing this, full of godly zeal, replied, " I defy the pope and all his laws;" and further added, " That if God spared him life, he would, ere many years, cause a boy that drivetli the plough, to know more of the Scripture than he did.

 

 After this, the grudge of the priests increasing, Mr. Tyndale was constrained to leave that country. Thence he came to London, and preached a while, according as he had done in the country before, and especially about Bristol, and also in the said city in St. Austin's, (now

 

called College-Green). He remained in London almost a year, waiting an opportunity to translate the New Testament into English. But finding no place for his purpose in England, and having some provision, by God's providence, ministered unto him by certain good men, he took his leave of it, acid departed into Germany. Here, being inflamed with a tender care and zeal for his country, he refused no pain nor diligence, by all means possible, to reduce his countrymen to the same understanding of God's holy word, which the Lord had endued him with. He translated thfa New Testament about 1527. After that he took in hand to translate the Old Testament, finishing the five books of Moses, with learned and godly prologues prefixed before every one. He wrote divers other works under sundry titles, amongst which are, The Obedience of Christian Man, The Wicked Mammon, The Practice of Prelates; with expositions upon certain parts of Scriptures and other books also, answering Sir Thomas more, and other adversaries of the truth. These books being published, and sent over into England, it cannot be spoken what a door of light they opened to the eyes of the whole English nation, who had been so many years shut up in darkness.

 

 At his first leaving England, he took his journey into the further parts of Germany, where he conferred with Luther, and other learned men. After he had continued there a. certain season, he came down into the Netherlands, and abode mostly in Antwerp. When he had translated the fifth book of Moses, intending to print the same at Hamburgh, he sailed thitherward; where by the way, upon the coast of Holland, he suffered shipwreck; by which he lost all his books, writings, and copies, and so was compelled to begin all anew, to his hindrance and the doubling of his labors. Having lost both his money, his copies, and time, he came in another ship to Hamburgh, where, at his appointment, Mr. Coverdale tarried for him, and helped him to translate the five books of Moses, from Easter till December, in the house of a worshipful widow, Mrs. Margaret Van Emmerson, in the year 1529. So having despatched his business at Hamburgh, he returned to Antwerp again.

 

 The bishops and prelates of the realm, inflamed in their minds against the Old and New Testaments translated by Tyndale, and conspiring together with all their heads, never rested, before they had brought the king to their consent. By reason whereof, a proclamation in all haste was devised, and set forth under public authority, that the Testament of Tyndale's translation, with other works, both of his and other writers, were inhibited. And not contented herewith, they proceeded further, how to entangle him in their nets, and to bereave him of his life. In the registers of London it appears, that if the bishops and Sir Thomas More had any poor man to be examined before them, that had been at Antwerp, they most studiously examined all things belonging to Tyndale; where, and with whom he lodged Whereabout the house stood P and what was his stature in what apparel he went All which things when they bad diligently learned, then they began to work.

 

 William Tyndale had lodged about a year at Antwerp, in the house of Thomas Pointz, who kept an house of English merchants. About which time one came thither out of England, whose name was Henry Philips, having a servant with him; but wherefore he came, no man

 

could tell. Tyndale was many times invited to dinner and supper amongst merchants. By this means Philips became acquainted with him, and within a short space Tyndale brought him to his lodging, and entered such friendship with him, that through his procurement he lay in the same house; to whom he showed, moreover, his books, and other secrets of his study. Philips was in doubt to move his purpose to any of the rulers or officers of Antwerp, for fear it should come to the knowledge of some Englishmen, and so Mr. Tyndale should have warning thereof. He went therefore from Antwerp to the court of Brussels, which is from thence 24 miles; and brought from thence with him to Antwerp, the procurator-general, who is the emperor's attorney, with certain other officers.

 

 Within a while after, Pointz went forth to the town of Barrow, being 18 English miles from Antwerp, where he had business to do for a month or six weeks. In his absence, Henry Philips came again to the house, and spoke to his wife, asking for 1MMr. Tyndale, and then went

 

forth again. He returned about noon, and went to Mr. Tyndale, and desired him to lend him 4Os. "For," said he, "I lost my purse this morning." Mr. Tyndale lent him the money, which was easy to be had of him, if he had it, for he was simple and unexliert in the subtleties of the world. Then said Philips, "Mr. Tyndale, you shall be my guest here to-day." "No," said Mr.Tyndale, "I am going out to dinner to-day, and you shall go with me,

 

and be my guest, where you shall be welcome." So when it was dinner-time, Mr. Tyndale went forth with Philips.

 

 At the going out of Pointz's house, was a long narrow entry, that two could not go abreast. Mr. Tyndale would have put Philips before him, but Philips would have Mr. Tyndale go before, pretending to spew great civility. So Mr. Tyndale, being a man of no great stature, went before, and Philips, _ a tall person, followed behind him. He had set officers on either side of the door, who being there might see who came; and coming through the entry, Philips pointed over Mr. Tyndale's head, that the officers might see, that it was he whole they should take. Thf

 

officers that took Mr. Tyndale, afterwards told Pointz this, and said to him, (after they had laid him in prison) " That they pitied to see his simplicity when they took him." Then they took him and brought him to the emperor's attorney; who went to the house of Pointz, and sent away all that was there of Mr. Tyndale's, as well his books, as other things. Tyndale was had from thence to the castle of Filford, 1S English miles from Antwerp.

 

 By the help of some English merchants, letters in favor of r `yndale, were straightway sent to the court of Brussels. Not long after letters were directed out of England to the council of Brussels, and sent to the merchants at Antwerp, commanding them, that they should be delivered with speed. Then such of the chief of the merchants as were there, being called together, required the said Pointz to take in hand the delivery of those letters, with letters also from them in the favor of Mr. Tyndale, to the lord of Barrow and others. The lord of Barrow (as it was told Pointz by the way) was departed from Brussels, as the conductor of the eldest daughter of the king of Denmark. Pointz rode after, and overtook him at Achon, where he delivered his letters to him. He having then no leisure to write, Pointz said, " If it please your lordship, -I will attend upon you to the next baiting-place," which was at Macstricht. So Pointz followed him from Achon to Macstricht, 15 English miles, and there received letters of him, one to the council at Brussels, another to the company of merchant adventurers, and another to the lord Cromwel in England.

 

Pointz rode from thence to Brussels, and delivered to the council the letters out of England, with the lord Barrow's letters also, and received letters for England, which he brought to Antwerp to the English merchants, who required him to go with them into England. He did so, and delivered his letters to the council, and was commanded by them to tarry till he had other letters; which being delivered him, at length he returned again, and delivered them to the emperor's council at Brussels, and there tarried for answer of the same. When Pointz had tarried there three or four days, it was told him, by one that belonged to the chancery, that Mr. Tyndale should have been delivered to him, according to the tenor of the letters; but Philips followed the suit against him, and hearing that he was to be delivered, knew no other remedy but to accuse Pointz, saying, " That he had been a succorer of Tyndale, and was one of the same opinion." Upon this information Pointz was attached by the emperor's attorney, and delivered to the keeping of two serjeants at arms. He was long kept in prison; but at length, when he saw no other remedy, he made his escape by night. But Tyndale remaine,' in prison still, who being brought to his answer, was offered to have an advocate and a proctor; (for in any criminal case there, it is permitted to have council). 

 

 But he refused to have any, saying, "He would answer for himself." After much reasoning, he was condemned by virtue of the emperor's decree, made in the assembly at Augsbourg; and being brought forth to the place of execution, and there tied to the stake, was strangled by the hangman, and afterward consumed with fire, in the morning, at the town of Filford, in the year 1536, crying at the stake, with a loud voice, " Lord, open the king of England's eyes."

 

 Such was the power of his doctrine, and sincerity of his life, that during the time of his imprisonment, (which was 18 months,) he converted the keeper, his daughter, and others of his household. Also the rest that were conversant with him in the castle, reported of him, that if he was not a good Christian, they could not tell whom to trust. The procurator-general himself left this testimony of him, that he was " a learned, a good, and a godly man."

 

 The same year in which William Tyndale was burned, died Katherine, princess-dowager, in the month of January. The same year also, in the month of May, the king, being in his justs at Greenwich, departed suddenly, with a few persons, to Westminster. The next day after, queen Anne, his wife, was had to the tower, with the lord Rochford, her brother, and certain others; and the nineteenth day after, was beheaded. Her words at her death were these: " Good Christian people, I am come hither to die, for by the law I am judged to death, and therefore I will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to accuse no man, nor to speak any thing of that, whereof I am accused and condemned to die, but I pray God save the king, and send him long to reign over you; for a gentler, or more merciful prince was there never; and to me he was a very good, a gentle, and a sovereign Lord. And if any person will meddle of my cause, I require them to judge the best. And thus I take my leave of the world, and of you all; and heartily desire you all to pray for me. O Lord, have mercy on me. To God I commend my soul." And so she kneeled down, saying, "To CHRIST I commend my soul: JESUS, receive my soul." Repeating the same divers times, till at length the stroke was given, and her head was stricken off.