Bartholomew Legate, the Last Smith- Bzetle~& Tanner, Field Martyr," a Man Concerning Whom History Has Been the Sezwood Pn'niing H'o~~S, Frome, and London
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PREFACE. IN the humble hope that I may thereby assist in rescuing from oblivion the name of a noble, heroic man, and as a protest against bigotry and intolerance, whether mani- fested by Roman Catholic or Protestant, I send forth this my story of 'l Bartholomew Legate, the last Smith- Bzetle~& Tanner, field martyr," a man concerning whom history has been The SeZwood Pn'niing H'O~~S, Frome, and London. strangely silent, and whose name does not appear on the roll of that "noble army of martyrs" who yielded up their lives in Smithfield, in whose honour a stately church was erected not many years since, though whether the omission was due to want of knowledge, or prejudice, it ~rouldbe hard to say ; but the record closes with the name of Roger Holland, burned there June 27th, I 5 58 ; and the Rev. Oswald Sharpe, Vicar of the Church, in his pamphlet on "The Smithfield Martyrs," implies that none after him suffered in that place. It is true that no account of Bartholomeiv Legate's trial has yet come to light, although at the time it seems www.unitarian.org.uWdocs to have created considerable stir ; but the king's signature to the warrant for his execution may still be seen at the i v Prefnce. Record Office ; and not only from the pen of Thomas Fuller, in his " Church History of Britain," but also from the letters of Archbishop Abbott and Sir John Chamber- lain, both contemporary with Legate, we learn how he was tried for heresy, stood firmly to his faith, and, for conscience' sake, was burned in Smithfield on March 18th. 161 I. CHAPTER I. H dear ! but it's a sad life at the best ; the good are taken, E and them as only cumbers the ground is left behind. 1 God help the poor master ! " And thus soliloquising, Job Mark- ham pulled the heavy gate quietly behind him, and having cast a glance upwards at the windows of the farmhouse, turned and ' plodded down the lane with drooping head and heavy dragging step. It was a bright October evening in the year 1586, the close of one of those lovely autumn days when it seems as if the departed summer had returned for a brief visit ere she said farewell for ever. The rays of the setting sun were shedding a glory over the stubble fields and the green, marshy meadow lands, and on the hedgerows festooned .with delicate bindweed and decked with clusters of black and scarlet berries, and were spark- ling like jewels in the wayside pond and in the diamond panes of the farmhouse windows, and peace and beauty brooded over all the wide landscape, in the midst of which, nestling among sheltering trees, was the little village of Rumwell in Essex, where lay the humble home of Job Markham. But all the calm beauty of the evening was lost upon him, as he stumped heavily along; nor did the sight of his wife's buxom form, standing at their cottage door, and shading her eyes with her hand to catch the first glimpse of that small, spare figure, avail to arouse him from his dejection. "Why, what ails thee, man? " she said, as her husband entered the kitchen without his customary salutation, and sank down on the settle. '6 What ails thee-art sick ? " I B Bnrtholomew Legate. Dame llarkham sat for Some minutes in silence, looking from " Thee must go up to the house at once, Moll,'' he replied, one to the ~ther,then addressing one of the girls, she asked, quite disregarding her question. " Kate Alison bade me say the 16 jyllo is with Mistress Legate, Anna ? " mistress will scarce last the night, and she needs thy help." 6' Only the master and Barty," she replied, raising her tear- " God save us ! " said the good woman, as with trembling haste she placed his evening meal before her husband, and pro- stained face. "She wished to be left alone with them now. Before the sun went down she sent for all of us, and bade us ceeded to envelop herself in her large cloak. " When was she farewell, and to be good, and meet her in heaven. And, oh my taken worse ? " no one will ever speak so kind to me again." And " I' the morn, but the change came upon her about an hour dear the poor girl hid her face in her apron and sobbed piteously. since ;the poor master's heart is well-nigh broke. But don't 'ee ('she was like a mother to us all," said the other girl, her eyes wait now, Moll; thee'lt hear all about it soon enough." filling as she spoke. "I mind me when father lay so long ill, "Ay, sure, " she answered, and with one housewifely glance how she ~ouldcome and bring him medicine and good things around her little home, crossed the threshold, and was soon to eat, and talk, so kindly, and read to him out of her Bible ; and making her way along in the direction whence her husband had how she got my brother Jocelyn to quit the bad company he was come. keeping and be an honest man, and there he is serving the queen The light was fading now, and as the good woman approached in Ireland to-day instead of being hanged on the gallows for the farmhouse, its white facings and fantastic gables over- stealing deer like James Hepburn. She was good to every one, shadowed by two fine elms, gave it a very weird and ghostly she was." appearance, and it was small matter for wonder if a shudder Ay, indeed, was she," replied Moll Markham ; and thee, passed through her frame. The watch-dog barked loudly as she Anna, and thee, Esther, must mind all that she has ever told you, entered at the gate, but the sound of her familiar voice quieted and be good wenches, and go on after she has gone just as if she him, and he retreated to his shelter. Ere she reached the door still were here." And the good woman wiped her eyes, and the it was opened by a tall, gaunt woman, who without speaking whole party relapsed again into silence. beckoned her into the kitchen : a large, low, black-raftered room, Meanwhile, in the room above, Stephen Legate and his son the walls bright with shining pewter, and the ceiling hung with were keeping mournful vigil by the dying bed of her who was to flitches of home-cured bacon and toothsome hams. Two or both of them more than all the world beside : the faithful, loving three spinning wheels were there, but they were standing idle, wife, the wise, tender, affectionate mother. while the maidens, fearless of reproof, sat with tearful eyes around A rushlight glimmered on the table, and a wood fire blazed on the wood fire, only speaking sometimes to each other in low the hearth, throwing occasional gleams on the quaintly carved whispers. furniture, and lighting up the pale face of the sufferer, and the How is she now, Mistress Alison ? " asked Moll Markham of thin hands holding in their feeble clasp those of husband and son. the tall woman. "Barty," said the dying woman at length, after some minutes '' Dying,') was the reply, in a voice whose tremor gave the lie of silence, " Barty, darling, mother must leave you now." to the calm, impassive expression of the countenance. '' Sit ye The boy looked at her with his earnest, dark eyes, but answered down by the fire ; we shall be needed presently," she added, not, and his mother continued, " You have always been a good motioning the other to a seat, and resuming her own at the foot boy, and never given me a moment's sorrow. God bless you for of the steep flight of stairs, whence any sound would be audible it, and keep you good; but, my child, you* have had few tempt- from the room above, where the beloved mistress of the house- ations yet ;you will meet them as you grow older, and you must hold lay waiting for the opening of the golden gate. promise me to be brave and true-true to yourself, and above all, true to God ; and if ever an hour of trial should come to you, He will help you through, even though it should be a fiery trial such as befel your Uncle Abraham, Barty." I will, dear mother! God helping me I will live to be CHAPTER 11. worthy of Uncle Abraham and worthy of you," answered the boy fervently, as he kissed his mother's wasted cheek. 'LL tell him thee hast been, Master Churchill, and if he wants A faint smile illulnined the countenance of the dying woman. to see thee, I dare say he'll send; but I wouldn't disturb "And, Barty, I give you my Bible-read in it often, and think "I him now,-no, not for the queen herself. It's little enough sleep of what you read, and try to understand. And one thing more, he's had for a week past, and there's plenty of time for him to my darling-your father-he will miss me when I am gone, and JFrakeup to trouble and sorrow without being called down only you must comfort him, and try to fill my place to him, and always to see a parson." be a good, true, loving son." In Mistress Alison's manner and tone there was an air of de- I will, nzother ; I promise you I will.') fiance, if not of contempt, as she stood in the doorway with her l' God bless my boy," she answered, laying her hand caressingly arms akimbo, effectually barring it against all intruders, which on his dark, clustering locks.