Now! Then! Offered a jury acquittal, Margaret Clitherow of York, concealer of priests, chooses martyrdom and is crushed under her own front door

15 March 1586: Offered a jury acquittal, Margaret Clitherow of York, concealer of priests, chooses martyrdom and is crushed under her own front door

Richard Verstegan’s contemporary engraving of scenes from the execution of Margaret Clitherow (Verstegan 1604).

John Morris. 1877. John Mush’s Life of Margaret Clitherow. The Troubles of Our Catholic Forefathers Related by Themselves. London: Burns and Oates. Get it:

Excerpt

All the people about her condemned her of great obstinacy and folly, that she would not yield; and on every hand persuaded her to refer her trial to the country, which could not find her guilty, as they said, upon such slender evidence; but she would not. “Well,” said Judge [John] Clench, “we must pronounce a sentence against you. Mercy lieth in our hands, in the country’s also, if you put your trial to them; otherwise you must have the law.” The Puritan preacher, called [Giles] Wiggington, stood up and called to the judge on the bench, saying, “My lord, give me leave to speak;” but the murmuring and noise in the Hall would not suffer him to be heard: yet he continued still calling that he might speak, and the judge commanded silence to hear him. Then he said, “My lord, take heed what you do. You sit here to do justice; this woman’s case is touching life and death, – you ought not, either by God’s laws or man’s, to judge her to die upon the slender witness of a boy; nor unless you have two or three sufficient men of very good credit to give evidence against her. Therefore, look to it, my lord, this gear goeth sore.” The judge answered, “I may do it by law.” “By what law?” quoth Wiggington. “By the Queen’s law,” said the judge. “That may well be,” quoth Wiggington, “but you cannot do it by God’s law;” and he said no more. The judge, yet desirous to shift the thorn out of his own conscience into the whole country, and falsely thinking that if the jury found her guilty his hand should be clear from her blood, said again, “Good woman, I pray you put yourself to the country. There is no evidence but a boy against you, and whatsoever they do, yet we may show mercy afterward.” The martyr still refused. Then [Francis] Rodes said, “Why stand we all the day about this naughty, wilful woman. Let us despatch her.” Then the judge said, “If you will not put yourself to the country, this must be your judgment: You must return from whence you came, and there, in the lowest part of the prison, be stripped naked, laid down, your back upon the ground, and as much weight laid upon you as you are able to bear, and so to continue three days without meat or drink, except a little barley bread and puddle water, and the third day to be pressed to death, your hands and feet tied to posts, and a sharp stone under your back.”

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To facilitate reading, the spelling and punctuation of elderly excerpts have generally been modernised, and distracting excision scars concealed. My selections, translations, and editions are copyright.

Abbreviations

Comment

Other sources say Lady Day – 25 March – but I’m accepting this one for the moment.

Her final days and execution are described by Mush here:

She was in dying one quarter of an hour. A sharp stone, as much as a man’s fist, put under her back; upon her was laid to the quantity of seven or eight hundred weight at the least, which, breaking her ribs, caused them to burst forth of the skin… This was at nine of the clock, and she continued in the press until three at afternoon. Her hat before she died she sent to her husband, in sign of her loving duty to him as to her head. Her hose and shoes to her eldest daughter, Anne, about twelve years old, signifying that she should serve God and follow her steps of virtue.

Peter Lake and Michael Questier’s reëxamination of the affair is very good, starting with the preface to the 2nd edition:

For various reasons, the authors of this volume decided back in the early 1990s that it was worth writing an article about the ‘pearl of York’, Margaret Clitherow, even though their opinions about the topic of Mrs Clitherow, and indeed the entire subject of post-Reformation religion, were at many points frankly incompatible (Lake 2019).

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Original

The 14th day of March, being Monday, after dinner, the martyr was brought from the Castle to the Common Hall in York, before the two judges, Mr. Clinch and Mr. Rhodes, and divers of the Council sitting with them on the bench.

Her indictment was read, that she had harboured and maintained Jesuit and Seminary priests, traitors to the Queen’s Majesty and her laws, and that she had [heard] Mass, and such like. Then Judge Clinch stood up, and said: “Margaret Clitherow, how say you? [Are you] guilty of this indictment, or no?” Then she [being] about to answer, they commanded her to put off her hat, and then she said mildly with a bold and smiling countenance: “I know no offence whereof I should confess myself guilty.” The judge said: “Yes, you have harboured and maintained Jesuits and priests, enemies to her Majesty.” The martyr answered: “I never knew nor have harboured any such persons, or maintained those which are not the Queen’s friends. God defend I should.” The judge said: “How will you be tried?” The martyr answered, “Having made no offence, I need no trial.” They said: “You have offended the statutes, and therefore you must be tried;” and often asked her how she would be tried. The martyr answered: “If you say I have offended, and that I must be tried, I will be tried by none but by God and your own consciences.” The judge said, “No, you cannot so do, for we sit here,” quoth he, “to see justice and law, and therefore you must be tried [by the country].” The martyr still appealed to God, and their consciences. Then they brought forth two chalices, divers pictures, and in mockery put two vestments and other church gear upon two lewd fellows’ backs, and in derision the one began to pull and dally with the other, scoffing on the bench before the judges, and holding up singing breads, said to the martyr: “Behold thy gods in whom thou believest.” They asked her how she liked those vestments. The martyr said: “I like them well, if they were on their backs that know to use them to God’s honour, as they were made.” Then Judge Clinch stood up and asked her: “In whom believe you?” “I believe,” quoth the martyr, “in God.” “In what God?” quoth the judge. “I believe,” quoth the martyr, “in God the Father, in God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost; in these Three Persons and One God I fully believe, and that by the passion, death, and merits of Christ Jesu I must be saved.” The judge said: “You say well;” and said no more. After a while the judges said to her again: “Margaret Clitherow, how say you yet? Are you content to be tried by God and the country?” The martyr said, “No.” The judge said: “Good woman, consider well what you do; if you refuse to be tried by the country, you make yourself guilty and accessory to your own death, for we cannot try you,” said he, “but by order of law. You need not fear this kind of trial, for I think the country cannot find you guilty upon this slender evidence of a child.” The martyr still refused. They asked if her husband were not privy to her doings in keeping priests. The martyr said: “God knoweth I could never yet get my husband in that good case that he were worthy to know or come in place where they were to serve God.” The judge said: “We must proceed by law against you, which will condemn you to a sharp death for want of trial.” The martyr said cheerfully: “God’s will be done: I think I may suffer any death for this good cause.” Some of them said, seeing her joy, that she was mad, and possessed with a smiling spirit. Mr. Rhodes also railed against her on the Catholic faith and priests; so so did also the other Councillors, and Mr. Hurleston openly before them all said: “It is not for religion that thou harbourest priests, but for harlotry;” and furiously uttered such like slanders, sitting on the bench.

The Bench rose that night without pronouncing any sentence against her, and she was brought from the hall with a great troop of men and halberts, with a smiling and most cheerful countenance, dealing money on both sides the streets, to John Trewe’s house on the bridge, where she was shut up in a close parlour.

The same night came to the martyr, as she was praying upon her knees, Parson Wiggington, a Puritan preacher of notorious qualities, and ministered talk unto her, as their fashion is. The martyr regarded him very little, and desired him not to trouble her, “for your fruits,” quoth she, “are correspondent to your doctrine.” And so he departed. All that night she remained in that parlour, with one Yoward and his wife, two evil-disposed persons of their own sect.

The next day following, about eight of the clock, the martyr was carried again to the Common Hall; and she standing at the Bar, the judge said to her: “Margaret Clitherow, how say you yet? Yesternight we passed you over without judgment, which we might have then pronounced against you if we would: we did it not, hoping you would be something more conformable, and put yourself to the country, for otherwise you must needs have the law. We see nothing why you should refuse; here be but small witness against you, and the country will consider your case.” “Indeed,” said the martyr, “I think you have no witnesses against me but children, which with an apple and a rod you may make to say what you will.” They said, “It is plain that you had priests in your house by these things which were found.” The martyr said, “As for good Catholic priests, I know no cause why I should refuse them as long as I live; they come only to do me good and others.” Rhodes, Hurleston, and others said, “They are all traitors, rascals, and deceivers of the Queen’s subjects.” The martyr said, “God forgive you. You would not say so of them if you knew them.” They said, “You would detest them yourself [if] you knew their treason and wickedness as we do.” The martyr said, “I know them for virtuous men, sent by God only to save our souls.” These speeches and the like she uttered very boldly and with great modesty. Then Judge Clinch said, “What say you? Will you put yourself to the country, yea or no?” The martyr said, “I see no cause why I should do so in this matter: I refer my cause only to God and your own consciences. Do what you think good.” All the people about her condemned her of great obstinacy and folly, that she would not yield; and on every hand persuaded her to refer her trial to the country, which could not find her guilty, as they said, upon such slender evidence; but she would not. “Well,” said Judge Clinch, “we must pronounce a sentence against you. Mercy lieth in our hands, in the country’s also, if you put your trial to them; otherwise you must have the law.” The Puritan preacher, called Wiggington, stood up and called to the judge on the bench, saying, “My lord, give me leave to speak;” but the murmuring and noise in the Hall would not suffer him to be heard: yet he continued still calling that he might speak, and the judge commanded silence to hear him. Then he said, “My lord, take heed what you do. You sit here to do justice; this woman’s case is touching life and death, – you ought not, either by God’s laws or man’s, to judge her to die upon the slender witness of a boy; nor unless you have two or three sufficient men of very good credit to give evidence against her. Therefore, look to it, my lord, this gear goeth sore.” The judge answered, “I may do it by law.” “By what law?” quoth Wiggington. “By the Queen’s law,” said the judge. “That may well be,” quoth Wiggington, “but you cannot do it by God’s law;” and he said no more. The judge, yet desirous to shift the thorn out of his own conscience into the whole country, and falsely thinking that if the jury found her guilty his hand should be clear from her blood, said again, “Good woman, I pray you put yourself to the country. There is no evidence but a boy against you, and whatsoever they do, yet we may show mercy afterward.” The martyr still refused. Then Rhodes said, “Why stand we all the day about this naughty, wilful woman. Let us despatch her.” Then the judge said, “If you will not put yourself to the country, this must be your judgment:

“You must return from whence you came, and there, in the lowest part of the prison, be stripped naked, laid down, your back upon the ground, and as much weight laid upon you as you are able to bear, and so to continue three days without meat or drink, except a little barley bread and puddle water, and the third day to be pressed to death, your hands and feet tied to posts, and a sharp stone under your back.”

The martyr, standing without any fear or change of countenance, mildly said, “If this judgment be according to your own conscience, I pray God send you better judgment before Him. I thank God heartily for this.” “Nay,” said the judge, “I do it according to law, and tell you this must be your judgment, unless you put yourself to be tried by the country. Consider of it, you have husband and children to care for; cast not yourself away.” The martyr answered, “I would to God my husband and children might suffer with me for so good a cause.” Upon which words the heretics reported after, that she would have hanged her husband and children if she could.

After this sentence pronounced, the judge asked her once again, “How say you, Margaret Clitherow? Are you content to put yourself to the trial of the country? Although we have given sentence against you according to the law, yet will we show mercy, if you will do anything yourself.” The martyr, lifting up her eyes towards heaven, said with a cheerful countenance, “God be thanked, all that He shall send me shall be welcome; I am not worthy of so good a death as this is: I have deserved death for mine offences to God, but not for anything that I am accused of.”

Then the judge bade the sheriff look to her, who pinioned her arms with a cord. The martyr first beholding the one arm and then the other, smiled to herself and was joyful to be bound for Christ’s sake; at which they all raged against her. So the sheriff brought her with halberts to the bridge again, where she was before. Some of the Bench were sent to mark her countenance as she was carried forth of the Hall, but she departed from thence through the streets with joyful countenance, whereat some said, “It must needs be that she received comfort from the Holy Ghost,” for all were astonished to see her of so good cheer. Some said it was not so, but that she was possessed with a merry devil, and that she sought her own death.

The two sheriffs brought her betwixt them, she dealing money on both sides as she could, being pinioned.

After this none was permitted to speak with her but ministers, and such as were appointed by the Council. When her husband heard that they had condemned her, he fared like a man out of his wits, and wept so vehemently that the blood gushed out of his nose in great quantity, and said, “Alas! will they kill my wife? Let them take all I have and save her, for she is the best wife in all England, and the best Catholic also.”

Two days after, as I remember, came to her Mr. Meares, Sir Thomas Fairfax, and others of the Council, and secretly asked her many things, the certainty whereof I cannot as yet learn in particular. I cannot learn more than that they asked her if she would go to the church with them, if it were but to one sermon, and she should have favour. She answered that she would, if it pleased them to let her choose the preacher, and grant him safe conduct to come and go. They asked her also if she thought in her conscience that she were with child. She said she knew not certainly, and would not for all the world take it on her conscience that she was or she was not, but as she thought rather she was than otherwise. They asked her why she would not so much as desire to be reprieved for some time. She said, “I require no favour in this matter; you may do your pleasures.” They asked her an she knew not Ingleby and Mush, the two traitor priests. She answered, “I know none such.” They replied, “Will you say so? Beware of lying.” She said, “I have not to accuse any man; you have me now, do your wills.” Thus much have I heard, and no more, that the Council should say unto her. After this they went to the judge, and told him what she had said.

Her kinsfolks and friends laboured much all that week to cause her to say directly that she was with child, but she would never affirm it of any certainty, but said she would not dissemble with God and the world, for that she could not tell certainly whether she was or no. Upon Wednesday the sheriff of York came to the judge, Clinch, and demanded what he should do with her. The judge answered, “She may not be executed, for they say she is with child.” Rhodes, Meares, Hurleston, Cheeke, and the rest urged sore that she might be executed according to judgment and law. And Mr. Rhodes said, “Brother Clinch, you are too merciful in these cases; if she had not law she would undo a great many.” Then Judge Clinch said, “If she be with child, I will not consent that she shall die.” “Then,” quoth the sheriff, “my lord, I shall make a quest of women to go upon her.” “It needeth not,” quoth the judge; “call four honest women, which know her well, and let them try it.” The four women upon the Thursday came to the martyr, and returned answer to the judge, that she was with child as far as they could perceive or gather by her own words. That night, or the next day, Hurleston, the Councillors, and ministers, who most greedily thirsted after her blood, came to Clinch in his chamber and said, “My lord, this woman is not to have the benefit of her condition, for that she hath refused trial by the country, and the sentence of death is passed against her.” The judge answered, “Mr. Hurleston, God defend she should die, if she be with child; although she hath offended, yet hath not the infant in her womb. I will not for a thousand pounds, therefore, give my consent until she be further tried.” Hurleston urged still and said, “She is the only woman in the north parts, and if she be suffered to live, there will be more of her order without any fear of law. And therefore, my lord, consider with yourself,” quoth he, “and let her have law according to judgment passed, for I will take it upon my conscience that she is not with child.” The judge would by no means consent; but, thinking to wash his hands with Pilate, referred all to the Council, and willed them to do their own discretions; and at his departure he commanded to stay the execution till Friday after, which was the twentyfifth of March and the feast of our Lady, and then to do as they should think good, if in the meantime they heard not from him to the contrary.

The martyr, after her judgment, with much prayer and fasting prepared herself to die, fearing still that she was not worthy to suffer such a death for God His sake. In this time she sent word to her ghostly Father, desiring him to pray earnestly for her, for it was the heaviest cross that ever came to her, that she feared she should escape death.

2835 words.