The Destruction of the Spanish Inquisition

Introduction

 
Founded in 1478, the Spanish Inquisition was not finally abolished until 1834.
 
In 1809 Colonel Lehmanowsky was attached to that part of Napoleon’s army which was stationed at Madrid. While in the city, the Colonel used to speak freely among the people what he thought of the Priests and Jesuits, and of the Inquisition. It had been decreed by Napoleon that the Inquisition and Monasteries should be suppressed, but the decree was not executed. Months had passed away, and the prisons of the Inquisition had not been opened. One night, about ten or eleven o’clock, as Col. Lehmanowsky was walking one of the streets of Madrid, two armed men sprang upon him from an alley. He instantly drew his sword, put himself in a posture of defense, and while struggling with them, he saw at a distance the light of the French patrols – mounted soldiers, who carried lanterns. He called to them in French, and, as they hastened to his assistance, the assailants took to their heels, and escaped, not, however, before he saw, by their dress, that they belonged to the guard of the Inquisition.
 
He went immediately to Marshall Soult, the Governor of Madrid, told him what had taken place, and reminded him of the decree to suppress the Inquisition. Marshall Soult replied that he might go and destroy it. The Colonel told him that his regiment (the 9th Polish Lancers) was not sufficient for such a service, but if he would give him two additional regiments, the 117th and another, he would undertake the work. The 117th Regiment was under the command of Col. De Lile, who, like Col. Lehmanowsky, became a minister of the Gospel and pastor of an Evangelical Church in Marseilles. The troops required were granted, and Col. Lehmanowsky proceeded to the Inquisition, which was situated about five miles from the city. It was surrounded with a wall of great strength, and defended by a company of soldiers. When he arrived at the walls, he addressed one of the sentinels, and summoned the holy fathers to surrender to the Imperial army, and open the gates of the Inquisition. The sentinel, who was standing on the wall, appeared to enter into conversation for a moment with someone within, at the close of which he presented his musket and shot one of Col. Lehmanowsky’s men. The Colonel then ordered his troops to fire upon those who appeared on the walls.
 
“It was soon obvious,” says Col. Lehmanowsky, “that it was an unequal warfare. The walls of the Inquisition were covered with the soldiers of the Holy Office. There was also a breastwork upon the wall, from behind which they discharged their muskets. Our troops were in the open plain and exposed to a destructive fire. We had no cannon, nor could we scale the walls, and the gates successfully resisted all attempts at forcing them. I could not retire and send for cannon to break through the walls without giving them time to lay a train for blowing us up. I saw that it was necessary to change the mode of attack, and directed some trees to be cut down and trimmed, to be used as battering rams. Two of these were taken up by detachments of men, as numerous as could work to advantage, and brought to bear upon the wall with all the power which they could exert, while the troops kept up a fire to protect them from the fire poured upon them from the walls. Presently they began to tremble, a breach was made, and the Imperial troops rushed into the Inquisition.
 
Here we met with an incident which nothing but Jesuitical effrontery is equal to. The Inquisitor-General and the Father Confessors, in their priestly robes, came out of their rooms, as we were making our way into the interior of the Inquisition, and with long faces, their arms crossed over their breasts, their fingers resting on their shoulders, as though they had been deaf to all the noise of the attack and defense and had just learned what was going on. The addressed themselves in the language of rebuke to their own soldiers, saying, ‘Why do you fight our friends, the French?’ Their intention, no doubt, was to make us think that this defense was wholly unauthorized by them, hoping, if they could make us believe that they were friendly, they should have a better opportunity, in the confusion of the moment, to escape. Their artifice did not succeed. I caused them to be placed under guard, and all the soldiers of the Inquisition to be secured as prisoners. We then proceeded to examine all the rooms of the stately edifice.
 
We passed through room after room: found all perfectly in order, richly furnished, with altars and crucifixes, and wax candles in abundance, but could discover no evidence of iniquity being practiced there-nothing of those peculiar features which we expected to find in an Inquisition. We found splendid paintings, and a rich and extensive library. Here was beauty and splendor, and the most perfect order on which my eyes had ever rested. The architecture, the proportions, were perfect. The floors of wood were scoured and highly polished. the marble floors were arranged with a strict regard to order. There was everything to please the eye and gratify a cultivated taste. Where, then, were those horrid instruments of torture of which we had been told, and where were those dungeons in which human beings were said to be buried alive? We searched in vain. The holy fathers assured us that they had been belied; that we had seen all; and I was prepared to give up the search, convinced the Inquisition was different from all others of which I had heard.
 
But Colonel De Lile was not so ready as myself to give up the search, and said to me: ‘Colonel, you are commander today, and as you say, so must it be; but, if you will be advised by me, let this marble floor be examined. Let water be brought and poured upon it, and we will watch and see if there is any place through which it passes more freely than others.’ I replied to him, ‘Do as you please, Colonel,’ and ordered water to be brought. The slabs were large and beautifully polished. When the water had been poured on the floor, much to the dissatisfaction of the Inquisitors, a careful examination was made of every seam in the floor, to see if the water passed through. Presently, Col. De Lile exclaimed that he had found it. By the side of one of these marble slabs the water passed through fast, as though there was an opening beneath. All hands were now at work for further discovery. Officers with their swords, and soldiers with their bayonets, sought to clear out the seam and pry up the slab; others, with the butt of their muskets, struck the slab with all their might to break it, while the Priests remonstrated against our desecrating the holy and beautiful house!
 
While thus engaged, a soldier struck a spring, and a marble slab flew up. Then the faces of the Inquisitors grew pale as did Belshazzar when the handwriting appeared on the wall. They trembled all over. Beneath the marble slab, now partly up, there was a staircase. I stepped to the altar and took one of the candles, four feet in length, which was burning, that I might explore the room below. As I was doing this, I was arrested by one of the Inquisitors, who laid his hand gently on my arm and with a very demure look said, ‘My son, you must not take those lights with your bloody hand; they are holy.’ ‘Well’ I said, ‘I will take a holy thing to shed light on iniquity; I will take the responsibility. I proceeded down the staircase. As we reached the foot of the stairs, we entered a large square room-The Hall of Judgment. In the center of it was a large block and a chain fastened to it. On this they had been accustomed to place the accused, chained to his seat. On one side of the room was an elevated seat-The Throne of Judgment. This the Inquisitor General occupied, and on either side were seats, less elevated, for the holy fathers when engaged in the solemn business of the Holy Inquisition. From this room we proceeded to the right, and obtained access to small cells, extending the entire length of the edifice. here saddening sights presented themselves.
 
These cells were places of solitary confinement, where the wretched objects of Inquisitorial hate were confined year after year, till death released them from their sufferings, and there their bodies remained until they were completely decayed, and their rooms had become fit for others to occupy. Flues or tubes, extending to the open air, carried off the effluvia. In these cells we found the remains of those who paid the debt of nature: some of them had been dead apparently but a short time, while of others nothing remained but their bones, still chained to the floor of the dungeon.
 
The Inquisition put their victims to the ‘question’ – they tortured them. If found guilty they were handed over to the secular authorities to be ‘relaxed’ – that is, burned to death.
 
In other cells we found living sufferers, of both sexes and of every age, from threescore years down to fourteen or fifteen years, all naked as when born into the world, and all in chains! Here were old men and aged women who had been shut up for many years. Here, too, were the middle aged and the young man and the maiden of fourteen years old!” The soldiers immediately went to work to release these captives from their chains, and took from their knapsacks their overcoats and other clothing, which they gave to cover their nakedness. They were exceedingly anxious to bring them out to the light of day; but Col. Lehmanowsky, aware of the danger, had food given to them, and then brought them gradually to the light, as they were able to bear it.
 
“We then proceeded to explore another room on the left. Here we found instruments of torture of every kind which the ingenuity of men or devils could invent.
 
The first was a machine by which the victim was confined, and then, beginning with the fingers, every joint in the hands, arms, and the body, was broken or drawn one after another, until the victim died.
 
The second was a box in which the head and neck of the victim were so closely confined by a screw, that he could not move in any way. Over the box was a vessel from which one drop of water a second fell upon the head of the victim. Every successive drop, falling on precisely the same place, soon suspended circulation, and put the sufferer in the most excruciating agony.
 
The third was an infernal machine, laid horizontally, to which the victim was bound. The machine was then placed between two beams, in which were scores of knives, so fixed that, by turning the machine with a crank, the flesh of the sufferer was torn from his limbs all in small pieces.
 
The fourth surpassed the others in fiendish ingenuity. Its exterior was a beautiful woman, or large doll, richly dressed, with arms extended, ready to embrace its victim. Around her feet a semicircle was drawn. The victim who passed over this fatal mark, touched a spring, which caused the diabolical engine to open; its arms clasped him, and a thousand knives cut him into as many pieces in the deadly embrace.”
 
Col. Lehmanowsky said that the sight of these infernal engines of cruelty kindled the rage of the soldiers to fury. They declared that every inquisitor and soldier of the Inquisition should be put to torture. Their rage was ungovernable. The Colonel did not oppose them. They might have turned their arms against him if he had attempted to arrest their work. They began with the holy fathers. The first they put to death in the machine for breaking joints. The torture of the inquisitor, put to death by the dropping of water on his head, was most excruciating. The poor man cried out in agony to be taken from the fatal machine. The Inquisitor-General was brought before the infernal engine called “The Virgin.” He begged to be excused. “No!” said they, “you have caused others to kiss her, and now you must do it.” They interlocked their bayonets so as to form large forks, and with these they pushed him over the deadly circle. The beautiful image instantly prepared for the embrace, clasped him in its arms, and he was cut into innumerable pieces. Col. Lehmanowsky said he witnessed the torture of four of them; his heart sickened at the awful scene, and he left the soldiers to wreak their awful revenge on the last guilty inmates of that prison-house of hell.
 
In the meantime it was reported through Madrid that the prisons of the Inquisition were broken open, and multitudes hastened to the fatal spot. And, oh, what a meeting was there-it was like a resurrection! About a hundred, who had been buried for many years, were now restored to life. There were fathers who had found their long-lost daughters, wives were restored to their husbands, sisters to their brothers, and parents to their children; and there was some who could recognize no friend among the multitude. The scene was such as no tongue can describe.
 
When the multitude had retired, the Colonel caused the library, paintings, furniture, etc., to be removed; and having sent to the city for a wagon load of powder, he deposited a large quantity in the vaults beneath the building, and placed a slow match in connection with it. All had withdrawn at a distance, and in a few moments there was a joyful sight to thousands. The walls and turrets of the massive structure rose majestically toward the heavens, impelled by the tremendous explosion, and fell back to the earth an immense heap of ruins–
 
THE INQUISITION WAS NO MORE!
 
— The Reformer – September/October 2001
 

The Hungarian Reformation

By Chris Richards

 
“…in labours more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft. (2 Cor 11:23 KJV)”
 
With the rise of Islam very much in the news, the history of the Reformation in Hungary makes an interesting study. The Church there not only had to contend for the faith against Roman Catholicism but also against the Islamic Turks who invaded Hungarian territory. The Christian can learn much from the history of the Church in Hungary. For the greater part of its existence it has been oppressed and persecuted. Rome, Islam, or Communist persecutions have never totally destroyed Gospel witness in Hungary. It is also fitting that the Reformation story be retold in this year of 2006, as this year marks special anniversaries for Stephen Bocskay, sometimes known as the Hungarian Oliver Cromwell. Bocskay was born in 1556 and died by poisoning in 1606. He is commemorated on the International Reformation Monument in Geneva, towards the erection of which the Hungarian Reformed Church contributed one of the largest sums of money. Only the Church of Scotland contributed more. Despite the Reformed Church of Hungary claiming over two million adherents, Hungary is often regarded as a wholly Roman Catholic country.
 

The Early Days

 
The Gospel was planted among the Magyar peoples who settled in Hungary from Asia by Cyrillus. The rise of the Papacy affected Hungary as it did in all other places where Rome usurped local churches. By the time of the Reformation, Hungary had 150 so-called Holy Places. “Miracles” were commonplace yet the morality of the country was very low.
 
The preaching of John Huss in Prague affected many students from Hungary who were studying at Prague University. However, it was not until a century later that the populace were reached with the Gospel. Luther’s protest against the sale of indulgences in 1517 opened the way for the Hungarian Reformation. Many Germans had settled in Hungary. This German influence led to Luther’s writings being circulated. By 1600 it is believed that 60% of the population was Protestant.
 
Queen Mary, a very influential member of the Royal Family, was won over to the Reformation. She used her influence to protect Protestant preachers, especially John Henkel. From 1523 Reformed Truth had been taught at the Academy of Ofen in Budapest. In Transylvania (then part of Hungary) the Reformers were zealous in catechizing the people. This led to the populace mocking and ridiculing the superstitious beliefs of the Roman priests.
 

Rome Thwarted

 
The Roman Bishops demanded that Queen Mary’s husband, King Louis II, move against the Reformers. All Lutheran books were ordered to be burnt and all property owned by Lutherans was to be confiscated. Some books were burnt, but before the persecution could take hold an Islamic army threatened invasion. Soliman the Magnificent with an army of 300,000 men marched on Hungary. All the troops Louis could muster were 27,000. These were quickly defeated by Soliman. The King, in making his escape, suffered a riding accident which killed him.
 
The invasion by the Turks resulted in 200,000 Hungarians being massacred. Two claimants put themselves forward as the rightful king, John Zapolya and Ferdinand of Austria. This division led to civil war and was accompanied by Soliman’s occasional attacks. This unrest left the Reformers unhindered. Nobles and two Bishops embraced the Reformation.
 
In 1537 Matthias Devay began a powerful ministry in Budapest, and Ferdinand was presented with a copy of the Augsberg Confession. Budapest was under Zapolya’s authority. Influenced by Roman priests, Zapolya had Devay imprisoned. Also in the prison was Zapolya’s blacksmith and Devay witnessed to the smith. Zapolya ordered the blacksmith’s release. He, though, said he would not leave prison without Devay, whereupon Zapolya ordered his release too. Devay left the country, visiting Wittenburg in Germany and Basle in Switzerland, where he acquainted himself with printing practice. In 1537 he returned to Hungary and set up a press. On this was printed the first book in the Hungarian Language.
 
Reluctantly, Ferdinand agreed to move against the Reformers. Devay and an evangelist, Stephen Szantai, were denounced but not imprisoned. Ferdinand arranged for a debate between Szantai and a Romanist theologian named Gregory. The judges of the debate came to Ferdinand explaining that they were in a dilemma. Szantai could prove his doctrine by Scripture; Gregory could not. Yet if they found Szantai the victor they would be guilty of heresy.
 
The King now found himself in the same dilemma. He spoke with Szantai. Rome demanded that the King have Szantai burned. Instead, he made provision for the would-be martyr to leave his territory.
 

Reformation Complete

 
In Hungary there was no sudden fall of the Roman Catholic Church, but rather a gradual weakening of its support. The great progress of the Reformation came from three sources-the evident superior teaching of the Reformation so clearly seen in the Szantai-Gregory debate; the publishing of the Hungarian New Testament in 1541; and the reluctance of the claimants to the Kingdom to offend the Protestant nobility by persecution.
 
Young men studied theology in Wittenburg and Geneva. On their return they took up evangelical ministries. On John Zapolya’s death, his infant son was proclaimed his successor. His mother invited Soliman to become the child’s protector. The army of Soliman entering the Kingdom led to many fleeing before it, including many Reformed preachers. When things settled down these returned, the Turks allowing them to preach unhindered. By 1554 Transylvania was almost entirely Protestant. The last priest left the city of Huns as the place was without a single Roman Catholic. Count Petrovich undertook, as Regent to the infant King, a political reformation. Metal idols were melted down, monasteries turned into schools and the Church lost all political patronage.
 

Troubles Within

 
Unfortunately a difference arose within the Church that would lead to a split. The trouble arose over the Lord’s Table. Ministers who studied in Wittenberg followed Luther’s teaching while others followed Calvin’s teaching. In 1545 and 1546 two confessions were published, one from each camp. At this time separation was not practiced by either side. The publishing of these Confessions, however, did lead to the Hungarian church organizing itself and not relying on German help. It also completely broke off ecclesiastical contact with local Roman Catholic Bishops.
 
Romanists tried to bribe the Turks to kill Protestants. However, as Protestant meeting houses had no idols, which the Turks abhorred, they refused. The Pashas ordered that no hindrance should be put in the way of those who preached the faith of the “Great Mufti of Wittenberg”! A change of Regent could have caused the Reformers many problems. However, the enemy of the Reformation, Losonezy, was killed in battle against the Turks.
 
The differences between the two Protestant groupings remained even during the fierce persecutions which were to follow. Publications and counter-publication from both sides vied with one another. Pronouncements from both sides precluded any coming together.
 

Stephen Bocskay

 
The claim of Ferdinand passed eventually to Rudolph II. He had no interest in Reformed teaching, being more concerned with astrology and alchemy. His lack of concern at the treatment of his Protestant subjects, now confronted by a Jesuit led counter-reformation, led to an uprising. The Protestants of Holland had risen against the persecuting Hapsburg emperors of the Holy Roman Empire who ruled them. The Hungarian Protestants, facing similar despotic rule and active persecution, sought to defend themselves. Their captain was Stephen Bocskay who was elected to lead the Protestant forces, called hadjous. Rudolph refused the Protestants’ call for religious freedom and was determined to destroy any attempt to secure this. Bocskay led his hadjous to victory and was urged to accept the title Prince of Hungary. He would not accept this claim to the Kingdom. He did however accept the simple title of Prince of Siebenburgen.
 

Bocskay Victories

 
Bocskay victories over the Hapsburg Rudolph called for great military skill. Not only did Bocskay have to face Romanist forces but also to keep a watchful eye on the Turks, who were always looking for an opportunity to invade. The victories over Rudolph forced him to sign a treaty called the Peace of Vienna. This gave rights to all citizens to practice their faith without state interference. The Peace of Vienna was accepted by the hadjous at the Diet (legislative assembly) at Kassa. During the Diet, Bocskay was poisoned, probably by a false friend, the Chancellor Katay. Bocskay died on 29th December 1606. On his death the outraged hadjous put Katay to death. The death of Bocskay was a great setback for the Protestant cause. The provisions of the Peace of Vienna proved short-lived and a fearful persecution came on the Church once again.
 

The Fall of the Hapsburgs

 
In 1616 Ferdinand II came to the Throne. He repudiated the Peace of Vienna. The Jesuits set up courts of Inquisition. Pastors and Protestant nobility were hung and villages forcibly made to accept Roman Catholicism. Again the Protestants were driven to take up arms to defend themselves. Again the Protestants had a great military leader, Gabriel Bethlen. Three times he secured promises of peace from the Romanist Ferdinand only to see the Treaty broken once the Protestant forces dispersed.
 
Bethlen never seemed to realize that Rome could not be trusted. The last Treaty Bethlen secured by arms from the Hapsburgs also gave an undertaking by Bethlen never to take up arms again. Although Bethlen kept his part of the bargain, Rome did not keep her side. Like Bocskay, Bethlen was poisoned by Romanist doctors. During this time 100,000 were forcibly “converted to Rome.” The country was depopulated through martyrdom and Protestants fleeing.
 
Ferdinand II was followed by a succession of persecuting monarchs. Just as many came to view the French Revolution as God’s judgment on the persecuting Romanist French Royal family, so, when in 1866 defeated Austria fell from the front rank of nations, this was viewed in the same light. Another fifty years on from this the Hapsburg Empire collapsed in the First World War. Protestants called the House of Austria the House of Ahab. The Protestants of Hungary adopted a policy of passive resistance. Pastors sent to row in the galleys were freed by Dutch men-of-war, who hearing of the punishment given to the Hungarian pastors, made it their business to board the Hapsburg vessels and free the pastors. Finally, as revolution threatened the Romanist despots of Europe during the 18th Century, religious toleration was granted. The Act of Toleration of 1781 was superseded in 1848 by the guarantee of complete religious liberty.
 
The Hapsburg Empire went into history at the end of World War 1.
 
The Church remained, having withstood both Rome and Islam!
 
This article was written in:
The Reformer
July/August 2006 Edition
 
Published by:
The Protestant Alliance
77 Ampthill Road
Flitwick, Bedford MK45 1BD
England
 

The First Of The Protestant Reformation Martyrs

The monks of the convent of the Augustines at Antwerp who had received the truths of the Gospel

 
The convent of the Augustines at Antwerp was filled with monks who had received the truths of the Gospel. Several of the brethren who were domiciled in this monastery had dwelt for some time in Wittenberg, and, ever since the year 1519, salvation through grace had been preached in their church with much energy.
 
The prior, James Probst, an ardent person, and Melchior Mirisch, who distinguished himself by his talents and his prudence, were apprehended and taken to Brussels around the end of 1521. They there appeared before Aleander Clappio, and several other prelates. Surprised, alarmed, and interdicted, Probst retracted his opinions; but Melchior Mirisch knew how to calm the accusations of the judges, and at once escaped the penalty of condemnation and retraction.
 
These persecutions in no way terrified the monks left within the walls of the convent at Antwerp. They continued to proclaim the truths of the Gospel with energy, and the people hurried in crowds to listen to their preaching, insomuch that the church of the city was found too small to contain the eager multitude, in the same manner as the church at Wittenberg had before proved insufficient to accommodate the people there.
 
In October 1522 the storm which had been heard grumbling over their heads burst forth in all its fury. The convent was shut up, and the monks were thrown into prison and condemned to death. Several of them succeeded in making their escape, and a few women, forgetting the timidity of their sex, rescued one Henry Zuphten from the hands of the executioners. Three young monks, Henry Voes, John Esch and Lambert Thorn, concealed themselves for some time from the search of the Inquisitors. All the vases of the convent were sold; the building was strongly barricaded; the “holy sacrament” was taken away, as from an infamous place, and the governess of the Netherlands, Margaret, received it solemnly into the Church of the Holy Virgin. Orders were given not to leave one stone upon another belonging to this heretical monastery, whilst a number of citizens and some women, inhabitants of the town, who had listened with joy to the truths of the Gospel, were forcibly cast into prison.
 
Luther was overwhelmed with sorrow when he was informed of these harsh proceedings. “The cause which we defend,” said he, “is no longer a simple game; it looks for blood, it seeks for life.”
Mirisch and Probst were to follow very different courses. The prudent Mirisch became very soon the pliant servant of Rome and the executioner of imperious arrests against the partisans of the Reformation. Probst, on the contrary, having escaped from the hands of these inquisitors, repented of his error; retracted his recantation, and preached with boldness at Bruges, in Flanders, the doctrine which he had formerly abjured. Arrested a second time, and shut up in the prison of Brussels, his death appeared inevitable; but a Franciscan had pity upon him. and helped him to escape, so that Probst, “saved by a miracle of God,” said Luther, arrived at last in Wittenberg, where his double deliverance filled with Joy the hearts of the friends of the Reformation.
 
In every direction the Roman priests were under arms. The city of Miltenberg upon the Maine, which was attached to the provinces of the electoral-archbishop of Mentz, was one of the Germanic cities which had received the word of God with great eagerness. The inhabitants cherished a strong affection for the character of their pastor, John Draco, one of the most enlightened men of his age. He was obliged, however, to leave his home; but the Roman ecclesiastics, in alarm, went out at the same time from the city, dreading the vengeance of the people, and an evangelical deacon remained alone to afford consolation to the souls of the congregation.
 
At this moment some soldiers from Mentz rode into the town and took possession of it, their mouths filled with blasphemous words, and brandishing their swords. They also practiced every species of debauch in their conduct.
 
A few evangelical Christians fell under the blows of the intoxicated troopers; others were put into dungeons. The rites of Roman Catholicism were re-established, the reading of the Bible was interdicted, and the inhabitants were forbidden to speak of the Gospel even in their most familiar conversations with each other.
 
The deacon had managed to escape at the instant the soldiers entered into the house of a poor widow. He was informed against to the leader of the troop, who sent one of his men to take him prisoner. The humble deacon, hearing the voice of the soldier who sought his life, and finding that this man came in great haste, awaited his approach in a state of perfect peace. At the very instant, the door of the room was opened with much eagerness, the deacon walked forth at a quiet step to confront his enemy, accosted him with much cordiality and said – ‘I bid you welcome, my brother, here I am, plunge your sword into my bosom.” The fierce soldier, astonished, let his sword fall from his hand, and prevented afterwards any one from injuring the person of the pious evangelist.
 
The inquisitors of the Netherlands, however, thirsting for blood, scoured the country, and sought out in every direction the young Augustines who had escaped from the attempts at persecution in Antwerp. Esch, Voes, and Lambert, were at last discovered, put in irons, and carried to Brussels, where Egmondanus Hochstratten, and some other inquisitors caused them to appear in their presence.
 
“Will you retract,” demanded Hochstratten, “your assertion that the priest has not the power to pardon sins, and that such a privilege belongs alone to God?” Then he enumerated all the other evangelical doctrines they were summoned to abjure. ‘No, we will not retract anything,” exclaimed Esch and Voes with constancy, ‘we will not deny the word of God, we will rather die for the truth of our faith.”
 
Inquisitor – “Confess that you have been seduced by Luther.”
 
The Young Augustines – “As the apostles were seduced by Jesus Christ.”
 
The Inquisitor – “We declare you to be heretics, deserving to be burned alive, and we hand you over into the hands of the secular power.”
 
Lambert remained silent, the fear of death beset him and agony and doubt agitated his soul. “I ask a respite of four days,” said he, in a stifled voice, and he was led back to prison. The moment the term of this delay had expired, the sacerdotal consecration was solemnly revoked with reference to Esch and Voes, and they were delivered over to the governess of the Netherlands. The council in turn gave them up, with their arms tied, to the care of the executioner. Hochstratten and the other three inquisitors accompanied the monks to the funeral pile.
 
When they arrived within a few steps of the scaffold, the young martyrs looked up to it with composure; their resolution, their piety, and their age, induced many present to shed tears; even the inquisitors. When they were bound to the stake the confessors approached – “We ask of you yet once more, are you willing to receive the Christian faith?”
 
The Martyrs – “We believe in the Christian church, but not in your church.” Half an hour was allowed to pass; hesitation was prevalent in the minds of the accusers; a hope was entertained that the prospect of a death so frightful would intimidate the hearts of these young men. But, alone tranquil in the center of the crowd, which in perturbation surrounded the scaffold they sang psalms, interrupting the tune at times by courageously repeating again and again, “We are willing to die for the name of Jesus Christ.”
 
“Become converted, become converted,” exclaimed the inquisitors, “or you shall die in the name of the devil.” “No,” replied the martyrs, “we will die like Christians, and for the truth of the Gospel.”
 
The fire was put to the funeral pile, and while the flames were seen to rise slowly towards the bodies of its victims a heavenly peace sustained their souls in so much that one of them was heard to say, “I feel as if extended on a bed of roses.” The solemn hour had come, and death hastily approached; the two martyrs meanwhile exclaiming with powerful voices, “O Domine Jesus, Fili de David, miserere nostril!” – Lord Jesus, the Son of David, have pity on us!
 
They then began to recite in a solemn tone the holy creed. At last the flames reached their bodies, but they consumed the cords with which the monks were bound to the stake before their breath was choked; and one of them, availing himself of this liberty, threw himself upon his knees into the midst of the fire, and thus worshipping his Master, he cried out, as he clasped his hands together – “Lord Jesus, the Son of David, have pity upon us!” The fire encompassed their bodies; they continued to sing aloud but very soon the smoke suppressed their voices, and they were reduced to nothing more than a heap of ashes.
 
This execution lasted four hours. It was upon the 1st of July 1523 that the first martyrs of the Reformation in this manner sacrificed their lives to the cause of the Gospel.
 
All men of worth trembled when they heard of this capital punishment, and they regarded the future with eager alarm. “The pains and torments have begun, ” said Erasmus. “At last,” exclaimed Luther, “Jesus Christ has gathered some fruit from our work, and he again creates happy martyrs.”
 
But the joy which the fidelity of these two young Christians occasioned Luther was interrupted by the thought of Lambert. This latter individual was the most learned of the three, and had replaced Probst at Antwerp in his office of preacher. Greatly grieved in his dungeon, and frightened at the prospect of death, Lambert was still more harassed by the accusations of his conscience on account of his dereliction, and its urgent warnings still to confess the Gospel. Speedily delivered from his fears, he boldly maintained the truth, and died a death similar to that of his brethren.
 
A rich harvest followed from the shedding of these martyrs’ blood. Brussels was turned in favor of the Gospel. “In every place where Aleander raises a funeral pile, ” said Erasmus, “it seems as if he sowed a quantity of heretics.”
 
“Your cords are my cords,” cried Luther, “your dungeons are my dungeons, and your funeral piles are my funeral piles!…We are all on your side, and the Lord is at our head.” He afterwards celebrated in a beautiful hymn the death of the young monks, and speedily, in Germany and the Netherlands, both in the towns and in the country, the words of these hymns were everywhere repeated, and seemed to spread abroad an empassioned enthusiasm for the faith of these martyrs –
 
“No! their ashes shall not perish,
In every place this holy dust,
Scattered to a distance, must
Bring brave soldiers God to cherish.
 
Satan truly snatched them from us,
And consigned them to the grave;
Still at their death he’ll madly rave,
When we sing aloud of Jesus.”
 

Thomas Drowry – The Martyred Blind Boy

Burnt to death on 15th May 1556

 
“Faithful unto death” – Revelation 2:10
 
Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer: behold, the devil shall cast some of you into prison, that ye may be tried; and ye shall have tribulation ten days: be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life.(Rev 2:10 KJV)
 
In the reign of “Bloody Mary” of England, when the good Bishop Hooper was about to be burned to death, a blind boy, by much importunity, prevailed on the guard to bring him to the bishop. This boy had lately suffered imprisonment in Gloucester for confessing the truth. After the bishop had examined him concerning his faith and the cause of his imprisonment, he looked on him steadfastly, tears standing in his eyes, and said, “Ah! poor boy, God hath taken from thee thy outward sight, for what reason He best knoweth; but He hath endued thy soul with the eye of knowledge and faith. God give thee grace continually to pray unto Him, that thou lose not that sight, for thou wouldst then be blind both in body and soul.”
 
The boy’s name was Thomas Drowry. How often or how long he had endured imprisonment for the truth’s sake is not known; but on his final examination he was brought before Dr. Williams, Chancellor of Gloucester, sitting judicially with the registrar of the diocese in the consistory, near the south door of the cathedral church, who administered the usual articles, chiefly urging that on transubstantiation, and saying –
 
“Dost thou not believe that after the words of consecration, spoken by the priest, there remaineth the very real body of Christ in the sacrament of that altar?”
 
“No,” answered the blind boy, “that I do not.”
 
“Then,” said the Chancellor, “Thou art a heretic, and shalt be burned. But who taught you this heresy?”
 
‘You, Master Chancellor.”
 
“Where, I pray thee?”
 
“Even in yonder place,” replied the boy, turning and pointing with his hands towards where the pulpit stood.
 
The Chancellor again inquired, “When did I teach thee so?”
 
Drowry answered, ‘When you preached there” (naming a day) “a sermon to all men, as well as me, upon the sacrament. You said the sacrament was to be received spiritually, by faith, and not carnally and really, as the Papists have heretofore taught.”
 
The shameless apostate answered, “Then do as I have done, and thou shalt live, as I do, and escape burning.”
 
The blind boy said, Though you can easily dispense with yourself, and mock God, the world, and your conscience, yet will I not do so.”
 
“Then God have mercy upon thee,” rejoined the Chancellor, “for I will read the condemnation sentence against thee.”
 
“God’s will be fulfilled!” answered the young martyr.
 
Hereupon the registrar, being moved with the scene, stood up and said to the Chancellor, “Fie, for shame, man! Will you read the sentence against him, and condemn yourself? Away, away, and substitute some other to give sentence and judgment.”
 
“No, registrar,” said the fearfully hardened man; “I will obey the law, and give sentence myself according to mine office.”
 
He did so; delivered him to the secular power, who on the very same day led the blind boy to the place of execution at Gloucester, together with one Thomas Croker, a poor bricklayer, condemned also for the like testimony of the truth; when both, in one fire, most constantly and joyfully yielded their souls into the hands of the Lord Jesus.
 

Hugh Latimer Protestant Reformer & Martyr

 
Born 1485, in Thurcaston, Leicestershire, Hugh Latimer greatly advanced the cause of the Reformation in England through his vigorous preaching and through the inspiration of martyrdom.
 
Latimer was the son of a prosperous yeoman farmer. Educated at Cambridge University, he was ordained a priest around 1510. In the two decades before 1530 he gradually acquired a reputation as a preacher at Cambridge. At first he subscribed to orthodox Roman Catholicism, but in 1525 he came into contact with a group of young Cambridge divines who were influenced by Martin Luther’s Biblical, Reformed doctrines. He attributed his conversion by God’s grace to the ministrations of Thomas Bilney.
 
After gaining royal favour by speaking out in support of the efforts of King Henry VIII to obtain an annulment of his marriage to Catherine of Aragon, Latimer received the benefice of West Kingston, Wiltshire, in1531. He soon befriended two rising Reformers: Thomas Cromwell, who was to become the King’s chief minister, and the future Archbishop of Canterbury Thomas Cranmer.
 
Accusations of heretical preachings were made against him and he refused in January 1532 to subscribe to certain articles of faith such as the existence of purgatory and the need to venerate saints. Consequently, he was excommunicated and imprisoned until he made a complete submission (April 1532).
 
Nevertheless, thanks to Cromwell’s influence, Latimer was elevated in 1535 to the bishopric of Worcester. By 1536 he was generally regarded as one of the Reform leaders, even though there is no sign that he played any part in the various attempts of those years to introduce changes in church doctrine. As a result of a temporary return in England to a favouring of Roman Catholicism, Latimer was forced to resign his See in 1539, and upon the sudden fall of Thomas Cromwell in July 1540, he lost his main support at Court.
 
For the remainder of Henry’s reign Latimer existed in the shadows. Apparently he incurred suspicion of heresy at intervals and spent some time in the Tower of London, where he was incarcerated during the last few months before the accession of the boy king Edward VI in January 1547. The new reign, with its rapid advance of Biblical Protestantism, gave Latimer the opportunity to exercise his great talents. He refused to resume his bishopric, because he wanted to be free to preach without fear or favour. His sermons attracted large crowds and were often patronized by the Court.
 
With other Commonwealthmen, he attacked enclosure as a cause of depopulation and poverty. Because of his great contribution, under God’s blessing, in the spread and establishment of the Reformation, Latimer was a marked man when the catholic Mary Tudor ascended the throne. In September 1553 he was arrested on charges of treason; taken to Oxford for trial, he was burned there with the Reformer Nicholas Ridley on October 16, 1555. At the stake Latimer immortalized himself by exhorting Ridley with the words: “…we shall this day light such a candle, by God’s grace, in England as I trust shall never be put out.”
 
During the reign of Edward VI Latimer preached the Gospel in many places. Frequently his voice was heard at St. Paul’s Cross. In 1548 Latimer commenced a series of sermons from the pulpit at St. Paul’s raising his voice in protest at the injustice of the wealthy toward the poor. Rich and poor, high and low came and heard him protest at oppression of every kind.
 
“You landlords, you rent-raisers, you have for your possession too much…and thus is caused such dearth, that poor men that live on their labour cannot with the sweat of their faces have their living. I tell you my lords and masters, this is not for the King’s honour; it is to the King’s honour that his subjects be led in true religion. It is to the King’s honour that the commonwealth be advanced, that the dearth be provided for, and the commodities of this realm so employed as it may be to the setting of his subjects at work, and keeping them from idleness…The enhancing and bearing goes all to your private commodity and wealth. Ye had a single too much, and now ye have a double too much; but let the preacher preach till his tongue be worn to a stump, nothing is amended. This one thing I tell you, from whom it cometh, I know, even from the Devil…”.
 
Preaching his famous sermon on “The Plough” he said to a number of bishops standing before him, “Who is the most diligent prelate in all England, that passeth all the rest in the doing of his office? I will tell you. It is the Devil!…Therefore, you unpreaching prelates, learn of the devil to be diligent in your office. If you will not learn of God, for shame learn of the Devil!” — The Reformer March/April 1998