John
Gerard, the son of Sir Thomas Gerard, was born in New Bryn on 4th
October, 1564. At the age of thirteen he entered the Douai Seminary.
Later he spent time at Oxford University
and the Jesuits' College in Paris.
Gerard
returned to England but in March, 1584, he was arrested and was imprisoned
for two years as a Roman
Catholic.
On his release in 1586 Gerard moved to Italy and worked for the Pope.
Following
the defeat of the Spanish
Armada a
large number of Roman
Catholics were
murdered by Protestant
mobs.
Over a two day period fifteen priests were killed in London.
When he heard the news Gerard bravely volunteered to go to England
to work as a Catholic missionary.
Gerard
secretly lived with Catholic families until being arrested in July
1594. He was sent to the Tower
of London where
he was tortured. He remained a captive until he was rescued by friends
in 1597. He returned to his missionary work and in 1599 converted
Everard Digby to the Catholic religion.
Digby
introduced him to several of his friends, including Robert
Catesby, Guy
Fawkes,
Thomas Percy, John
Wright, Thomas
Wintour, and others involved in the Gunpowder
Plot.
After
the failure of the conspiracy to overthrow James
I,
Gerard escaped to Europe. In exile Gerard wrote A
Narrative of the Gunpowder Plot and his autobiography,
Narrative of John Gerard. John
Gerard died on 27th July, 1637.
(1)
John Gerard, Narrative of John Gerard (c. 1607)
We went to the torture
room in a kind of solemn procession, the attendants walking ahead
with lighted candles.
The chamber was underground
and dark, particularly near the entrance. It was a vast place and
every device and instrument of human torture was there. They pointed
out some of them to me and said that I would try them all. Then they
asked me again whether I would confess.
'I cannot,' I said.
I fell on my knees for
a moment's prayer. Then they took me to a big upright pillar, one
of the wooden posts which held the roof of this huge underground chamber.
Driven in to the top of it were iron staples for supporting heavy
weights. Then they put my wrists into iron gauntlets and ordered me
to climb two or three wicker steps. My arms were then lifted up and
an iron bar was passed through the rings of one gauntlet, then through
the staple and rings of the second gauntlet. This done, they fastened
the bar with a pin to prevent it slipping, and then, removing the
wicker steps one by one from under my feet, they left me hanging by
my hands and arms fastened above my head. The tips of my toes, however,
still touched the ground, and they had to dig away the earth from
under them. They
had hung me up from the highest staple in the pillar and could not
raise me any higher, without driving in another staple.
Hanging like this I began
to pray. The gentlemen standing around
asked me whether I was willing to confess now.
'I cannot and I will not,'
I answered.
But I could hardly utter
the words, such a gripping pain came over me. It was worst in my chest
and belly, my hands and arms. All the blood in my body seemed to rush
up into my arms and hands and I thought that blood was oozing out
from the ends of my fingers and the pores of my skin. But it was only
a sensation caused by my flesh swelling above the irons holding them.
The pain was so intense that I thought I could not possibly endure
it, and added to it, I had an interior temptation. Yet I did not feel
any inclination or wish to give them the information they wanted.
The Lord saw my weakness with the eyes of His mercy, and did not permit
me to be tempted beyond my strength. With the temptation He sent me
relief. Seeing my agony and the struggle going on in my mind. He gave
me this most merciful thought: the utmost and worst they can do to
you is to kill you, and you have often wanted to give your life for
your Lord God. The Lord God sees all you are enduring - He can do
all things. You are in God's keeping. With these thoughts, God in
His infinite goodness and mercy gave me the grace of resignation,
and, with a desire to die and a hope (I admit) that I would, I offered
Him myself to do with me as He wished. From that moment
the conflict in my soul ceased, and even the physical pain seemed
much more bearable than before, though I am sure it must, in fact,
have been greater with the growing strain and weariness of my body.
When the gentlemen present
saw that I was not answering their questions, they went off to the
Lieutenant's house, and stayed there. Every now and again they sent
to find out how things were going with me.
Three or four robust men
remained behind to watch and supervise the torture, and also my warder.
He stayed, I think, out of kindness, for every few minutes he took
a cloth and wiped the perspiration that ran in drops continuously
down my face and whole body. That helped me a little, but he added
to my sufferings when he started to talk. He went on and on, begging
and imploring me to pity myself and tell the gentlemen what they wanted
to know. And he urged so many human reasons for this that I thought
that the devil instigated him to feign this affection or that my torturers
had left him behind on purpose to trick me. But I felt all these suggestions
of the enemy like blows in the distance: they did not seem to touch
my soul or affect me in any way. More than once I interrupted him,
'Stop this talk, for heaven's sake. Do you think I'm going to throw
my soul away to save my life? You exasperate me.'
But he went on. And several
times the others joined in.
'You will be a cripple
all your life if you live. And you are going to be tortured every
day until you confess.'
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