Sainte Marguerite
Clitherow, martyre
Peu après son mariage,
Marguerite Clitherow, avec l’accord de son mari demeuré protestant, adhéra à la
foi catholique, dans laquelle elle éleva aussi ses enfants. Emprisonnée, puis
relâchée deux ans plus tard pour avoir abrité des prêtres chez elle. Arrêtée de
nouveau, sous la reine Élisabeth Ière, elle refusa de plaider sa cause, pour
éviter que ses amis, ses domestiques et ses propres enfants ne soient
contraints à témoigner contre elle. Cela lui valut la peine de mort ; elle
fut exécutée de façon barbare en étant lentement écrasée, à York, en 1586.
SOURCE : http://www.paroisse-saint-aygulf.fr/index.php/prieres-et-liturgie/saints-par-mois/icalrepeat.detail/2015/03/25/14221/-/sainte-marguerite-clitherow-martyre
Sainte MARGUERITE CLITHEROW
Martyre à York, en
Angleterre (+ 1586)
Peu après son mariage,
elle se convertit au catholicisme. Emprisonnée, puis relâchée deux ans plus
tard, elle abrite des prêtres chez elle. Arrêtée de nouveau, elle est condamnée
à mort et exécutée quelques jours après.
Elle fait partie des
Quarante martyrs d'Angleterre et du Pays de Galles qui ont été canonisés en
1970.
25 mars au Martyrologe
romain: À York en Angleterre, l’an 1586, sainte Marguerite Clitherow, martyre.
Avec l’accord de son mari, demeuré protestant, elle adhéra à la foi catholique,
dans laquelle elle éleva aussi ses enfants, et veilla à cacher chez elle les
prêtres recherchés. Emprisonnée plusieurs fois pour cela sous la reine
Élisabeth Ière, elle refusa de plaider sa cause, pour éviter que ses amis, ses
domestiques et ses propres enfants ne soient contraints à témoigner contre
elle. Cela lui valut la peine forte et dure d’être écrasée par un poids lourd
jusqu’à ce que mort s’en suive.
Martyrologe romain
SOURCE : http://nominis.cef.fr/contenus/saint/8668/Sainte-Marguerite-Clitherow.html
Sainte Marguerite Clitherow
Marguerite (Margaret en
anglais) Middleton naquit dans une famille protestante de rite anglican à York
vers 1550. Elle épousa en 1571 John Clitherow, puis elle revint à la foi
catholique de ses pères en 1574.
C'était l'époque du règne
de la sanglante Elisabeth Ière (1533-1558-1603). En 1576 Marguerite fut emprisonnée
pour avoir refusé de " remplir ses devoirs envers Dieu et la
Reine " et de ne pas vouloir assister aux services anglicans.
Elle fut libérée et de
nouveau arrêtée. Elle profitait de ses incarcérations comme d'une période de
retraite spirituelle. Elle priait chez elle avec ses trois enfants, soutenue
par son mari (resté anglican) et abritait souvent des prêtres de passage (
surtout Jésuites ) qui venaient dire la Sainte Messe en cachette chez elle.
Elle organisait aussi des leçons pour ses enfants et ceux de ses voisins.
Le 10 mars 1586 alors que
son fils Henry étudiait à Douai sa maison fut perquisitionnée. On découvrit des
ornements liturgiques et des livres sacrés d'un prêtre qui venait justement de
s'échapper. Elle fut emprisonnée à la forteressse d'York et soumise à un
interrogatoire. Refusant de se déclarer coupable, elle fut condamnée à mort.
" Si cette sentence
est conforme à votre conscience, je prie Dieu qu'il vous en réserve une
meilleure devant son tribunal. "
Elle passa la nuit en
prière pour la conversion de la reine et pour soutenir dans la Foi le clergé
catholique.
Elle fut écrasée sous une
porte de chêne sur laquelle on avait placé des poids et mit quinze minutes à
mourir. Ensuite son corps fut jeté dans une fosse remplie d'eau.
Elle fut béatifiée par
Pie XI en 1929 et canonisée par Paul VI en 1970.
Sa fille Anne devint
Ursuline et ses fils prêtres.
SOURCE : https://ut-pupillam-oculi.over-blog.com/article-6160265.html
Sainte Marguerite
Clitherow
Écrit par Abbaye
Saint-Joseph de Clairval, lu par Edition Rassemblement à Son Image
Marguerite Clitherow (ou
Margaret Clitheroe), née à York (Angleterre) en 1556 et morte (exécutée) le 25
mars 1586 près de York, est une mère de famille morte par fidélité à la foi
catholique et attachement au pape. Déclarée martyre par l’Église catholique
elle fut canonisée en 1970 par le pape Paul VI, avec le groupe des martyrs
anglais et gallois.
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SOURCE : https://voxlumen.org/podcast/sainte-marguerite-clitherow/
Sainte Marguerite
Clitherow
Martyre à York, en
Angleterre (+ 1586)
Martyr,
appelé la « Perle d’York », né vers 1556; est décédé le 25 Mars 1586. Elle
était la fille de Thomas Middleton, shérif d’York (1564-1565), un chandler de
cire; épousa John Clitherow, un riche boucher et chambellan de la ville, dans
l’église Saint-Martin, rue Coney, le 8 juillet 1571, et vécut dans les
Shambles, une rue encore inchangée. Convertie à la foi environ trois ans plus
tard, elle devint la plus fervente, risquant continuellement sa vie en
hébergeant et en maintenant des prêtres, fut fréquemment emprisonnée, parfois
pendant deux ans à la fois, mais jamais découragée, et fut un modèle de toutes
les vertus. Bien que son mari appartenait à l’Église établie, il avait un frère
prêtre, et Margaret a fourni deux chambres, l’une attenante à sa maison et une
seconde dans une autre partie de la ville, où elle gardait les prêtres cachés
et avait la messe continuellement célébrée au cœur de la persécution. Certains
de ses prêtres furent martyrisés,
et Marguerite qui désirait la même grâce avant tout, avait l’habitude de faire
des pèlerinages secrets la nuit à York Tyburn pour prier sous le
gibbet pour cette intention. Finalement arrêtée le 10 mars 1586, elle s’engagea
dans le château. Le 14 mars, elle a été traduite en justice devant les juges
Clinch et Rhodes et plusieurs membres du Conseil du Nord aux assises de York.
Son acte d’accusation était qu’elle avait hébergé des prêtres,
entendu la messe, et autres; mais elle a refusé de plaider, puisque les seuls
témoins contre elle seraient ses propres petits enfants et serviteurs, qu’elle
ne pouvait supporter d’impliquer dans la culpabilité de sa mort. Elle a donc
été condamnée à la peine forte et dure, c’est-à-dire d’être pressée à mort. «
Dieu soit remercié, je ne suis pas digne d’une mort aussi bonne que ça »,
a-t-elle dit. Bien qu’elle était probablement avec l’enfant, cette phrase
horrible a été effectuée le jour de lady day, 1586 (Vendredi saint
selon New Style). Elle avait enduré une anagonie de peur la nuit précédente,
mais était maintenant calme, joyeuse et souriante. Elle marchait pieds nus
jusqu’au péage d’Ousebridge, car elle avait envoyé son tuyau et ses chaussures
à sa fille Anne, en signe qu’elle devait suivre ses pas. Elle avait été
tourmentée par les ministres et même
maintenant a été exhorté à avouer ses crimes. — Non, non, Monsieur le Shérif,
je meurs pour l’amour de mon Seigneur Jesus, répondit-elle. Elle a été posée
sur le sol, une pierre tranchante sous son dos, ses mains tendues sous la forme
d’une croix et liées à deux poteaux. Puis une porte a été placée sur elle, qui a
été pondérée jusqu’à ce qu’elle soit écrasée à mort. Ses derniers mots au cours
d’une agonie de quinze minutes, ont été « Jesus! Jesus, jesus! Jesus, jesus!
avoir pitié de moi! Sa main droite est conservée à St. Mary’s Convent, York,
mais le lieu de repos de son corps sacré n’est pas connu. Ses fils Henry et
William sont devenus prêtres, et sa fille Anne une religieuse
à
Sainte-Ursule, Louvain. Sa vie, écrite par son confesseur, John Mush,
existe en deux versions. Le précédent a été édité par father John Morris, S.J.,
dans son « Troubles of our Catholic Forefathers », troisième série (Londres,
1877). Le manuscrit ultérieur, maintenant au couvent de York, a été publié par
W. Nicholson, de Thelwall Hall, Cheshire (Londres, Derby, 1849), avec le
portrait: « La vie et la mort de Margaret Clitherow le martyr d’York ». Il
contient également « L’histoire de M. Margaret Ward et Mme Anne Line, Martyrs
».
SOURCE : https://www.paroisselimogne.fr/post/sainte-marguerite-clitherow
Le
martyre de Margaret Clitherow à York, le 25 mars 1586
Margaret
eut pour père M. Thomas Middleton, citoyen d'York et fabricant de chandelles,
enterré à l'église Saint-Martin (Coney-Street) le 16 mai 1567. La mère de
Margaret nous est mal connue. De ce ménage Margaret naquit en 1555 ;
elle fut mise à mort en 1586.
Le
biographe, John Mush, était un prêtre séculier, homme de mérite qui eut
l'occasion de donner sa mesure en ramenant la paix parmi les fidèles
emprisonnés pour la foi à Wisbech. Lui-même fut prisonnier et condamné à mort
pour sa foi, mais il mourut dans son lit, en 1617, dans un âge très avancé.
Margaret
était née de parents protestants. Le testament de son père, daté du 14 décembre
1560, nous apprend qu'elle était la dernière de quatre enfants, deux fils et
deux filles. Après le second mariage de sa mère avec Henry May, la jeune fille
habita chez celui-ci jusqu'au 1er juillet 1571, date à laquelle elle
épousa John Clitherow, marchand boucher, établi à York, dans le quartier
appelé The Shambles. Clitherow était protestant[1],
assez riche et considéré par ses concitoyens qui le choisirent à différentes
reprises pour remplir diverses charges : en 1673 il fut élu « chambellan
de la cité ». Margaret, au moment de son mariage, était protestante,
suivait à petit bruit les exercices de la religion officielle et paraissait
surtout préoccupée du soin de son ménage. Ce fut deux ou trois ans après son
mariage que Margaret se convertit au catholicisme[2].
La raison déterminante de cette conversion ne nous est pas bien connue. Le
biographe, John Mush, laisse entendre que le spectacle des souffrances endurées
par les catholiques frappa vivement Margaret ; il semble que l'influence
du beau-frère William Clitherow aura dû contribuer à obtenir ce résultat.
L'année
de l'Incarnation de Notre-Seigneur 1587, la 28e du règne de la reine
Élisabeth, le 10e jour de mars, après que la bienheureuse martyre fut
restée pendant un an et demi environ dans sa propre maison en liberté sous
caution, le lord Ewers, vice-président, M. Meares, M. Hurleston et M. Checke,
membres du Conseil de la ville d'York, firent savoir à M. Clitherow qu'il eût à
se présenter devant eux dans la matinée. Ils lui reprochèrent de ne s'être pas
conformé à l'ordre qu'il avait reçu de s'y présenter dès la veille. Il répondit
qu'il avait exécuté cet ordre ; mais les voyant très occupés d'autres affaires,
il s'en était retourné non sans avoir attendu fort longtemps. Après quelques
mots ils lui renouvelèrent l'ordre de venir les trouver après le dîner ; ce
qu'il fit. A cette nouvelle, la martyre, qui connaissait leurs finesses par
expérience, appréhenda tout, et après le départ de son mari s'en ouvrit au Père
arrivé chez elle le matin même. Elle lui dit : « Le Conseil a convoqué de
nouveau mon mari. Plaise à Dieu que ce ne soit pas une nouvelle perfidie de
leur part et que, l'ayant entre leurs mains, ils n'en profitent pour faire
perquisitionner dans la maison. Ils me cherchent noise et ne cesseront qu'ils
ne m'aient en leur pouvoir. La volonté de Dieu soit faite ! »
Depuis
plus d'une année déjà Margaret, à l'insu de son mari, avait fait passer son
fils aîné en France pour le faire profiter d'une instruction et d'une éducation
vertueuses, avec l'espoir ardent de le voir élever un jour au sacerdoce. Le
Conseil de la ville d'York avait eu connaissance du fait quelque temps après,
et malgré la fureur qu'y provoqua cette nouvelle, on remit la vengeance à plus
tard. M. Clitherow, qui connaissait la cruauté féroce des membres du Conseil,
n'avait pas d'autre raison à la répugnance qu'il témoignait de les aller
trouver.
La
première fois qu'il fut mandé, il pensa que c'était pour rendre compte de cette
démarche dont il serait disculpé aisément puisqu'elle avait été faite à son
insu. Il eût fallu toutefois avoir affaire à des gens raisonnables au lieu
qu'ils étaient emportés par la fureur de détruire sans raison tout ce qui se
trouvait devant eux.
Le
Conseil tint la conduite perfide que redoutait la martyre et envoya
sur-le-champ le shériff d'York avec des hérétiques fouiller la maison. Ils
trouvèrent la martyre occupée aux soins du ménage. Le prêtre se trouvait dans
une chambre sise dans la maison du voisin ; plusieurs personnes s'y trouvaient
avec lui. Ayant appris la présence des shériffs, ils eurent le temps de
décamper et de fuir dans une chambre inférieure de la maison de la martyre. Un
maître d'école, M. Stapleton, récemment évadé du château où il venait de passer
sept années en prison pour la foi catholique, M. Stapleton donnait à ce moment
sa leçon aux enfants de Margaret et à deux ou trois petits camarades. Tandis
qu'il enseignait tranquillement sans songer à ce qui se passait à l'étage
au-dessous, un homme de mauvaise mine, portant une épée et un bouclier passé au
bras, ouvrit la porte de la chambre et, soupçonnant que ce maître d'école
pouvait être un prêtre, il la referma précipitamment et appela ses compagnons.
M. Stapleton, le prenant pour un ami, ouvrit la porte pour le faire entrer dans
la chambre ; mais, comprenant enfin de quoi il s'agissait, il la referma et
s'enfuit par le passage qui conduisait de la maison de la martyre à la chambre
du Père. Il s'esquiva donc et échappa aux griffes.
Les
shériffs, avides de saisir une proie, entrèrent en hâte dans la chambre et, ne
le trouvant plus, ressemblèrent à des fous furieux, comme s'ils venaient de
manquer la capture d'un prêtre. Ils emmenèrent tous les enfants, les
domestiques et la martyre. Ils se mirent alors en devoir de fouiller coffres et
bahuts et jusqu'aux moindres recoins de la maison ; mais, à ce que l'on m'a dit
depuis, ils ne trouvèrent quoi que ce soit. Alors ils enlevèrent ses vêtements
à un petit garçon de dix à douze ans, et quand il fut tout nu ils le menacèrent
de leurs bâtons s'il ne répondait pas à toutes leurs demandes.
L'enfant
terrifié céda et les conduisit à la chambre du prêtre, où il leur révéla une
cachette pour les livres, les vêtements et ustensiles liturgiques Ils prirent
ce butin et y ajoutèrent deux ou trois garnitures de lits. Les enfants et les
domestiques furent tous dirigés vers diverses prisons. La martyre fut conduite
devant le Conseil et le mit en fureur par la gaieté et la résolution qu'elle
montra dans son attachement à la foi catholique ; spécialement par son entrain
souriant et le dédain qu'elle avait pour leurs menaces et leurs railleries. Ils
la retinrent ainsi que son mari, mais dans des locaux différents, jusqu'au
soir. Vers sept heures la martyre fut écrouée au château ; une heure plus tard,
ce fut au tour de son mari.
Ce
qui se fit de plus ce jour-là par-devant le Conseil je n'ai encore pu le
savoir. La martyre arriva en prison tellement baignée de sueur qu'elle s'estima
heureuse de pouvoir emprunter toute sorte d'effets afin de changer cette
nuit-là. Le jeune garçon dénonça encore d'autres personnes qu'il avait vues
chez la martyre assistant à la messe ; parmi elles se trouvait Mrs Anne Tesch,
écrouée également le 12 mars, un samedi, dans le cachot de la martyre, avec qui
elle séjourna jusqu'au lundi suivant, jour d'ouverture des assises d'York.
Pendant
ce temps Margaret Clitherow vécut dans une sévère abstinence et une continuelle
prière. Elle était si gaie et si joyeuse de ce qui lui arrivait qu'elle venait
à dire qu'elle craignait d'offenser Dieu par là. Le bruit courut en ville que
le jeune garçon avait accusé la martyr de fournir le vivre et le couvert à
plusieurs prêtres, principalement à deux qu'on nommait : M. Francis Ingleby, de
Reims, et M. John Mush, de Rome. On ajoutait que Mistress Clitherow paierait
cher la violation du nouveau statut. Quand on le lui dit, elle partit d'un
éclat de rire et répondit au messager : « Je voudrais avoir quelque chose de, bon
à vous donner pour cette bonne nouvelle ; tenez, prenez cette figue, car je
n'ai rien de meilleur. » Le petit délateur était né en Flandre d'un père
anglais et d'une mère hollandaise. On l'avait amené de ces pays depuis deux
années environ. La martyre n'obtint qu'une seule fois la permission de parler à
son mari sous la surveillance du geôlier et d'autres personnes. Désormais elle
ne le revit plus, mais leurs amis tentèrent tout dans ce but. Toujours on
posait comme condition que Margaret ferait telles ou telles choses contre sa
conscience.
Le
lundi elle attendait la citation à comparaître devant les juges et se tenait
prête pour le cas où elle serait appelée. Il lui arrivait de dire à sa compagne
Tesch : « Ma soeur, nous sommes si heureuses ensemble que si on ne nous sépare
pas, je crains que nous ne perdions le mérite de la prison. » Quelques instants
avant d'être citée devant les juges. elle dit : « Je veux, avant de
partir, faire rire nos compagnons de prison de l'autre geôle. » Ils regardaient
à leur fenêtre et pouvaient être 35; on se voyait aisément d'un bâtiment à
l'autre. Elle fit donc avec ses doigts le simulacre d'une potence, accompagnant
le geste d'un franc rire. Après le dîner le geôlier lui dit qu'il fallait
maintenant se présenter aux juges : « Dieu merci, dit-elle, je suis
prête ; quand vous voudrez. »
Le
lundi 14 mars, après le dîner, la martyre fut conduite du château au Common
Hall de York, devant les deux juges, M. Clinch et M. Rhodes, au banc
desquels siégeaient plusieurs autres membres. On donna lecture de l'acte
d'accusation portant :1° que Margaret Clitherow avait donné le vivre et le
couvert à des jésuites et à des prêtres venus de l'étranger, traîtres à Sa
Majesté la reine et à ses lois ; 2° que Margaret avait ouï la messe, etc. Alors
le juge Clinch se leva et dit : « Margaret Clitherow, qu'avez-vous à répondre?
Vous reconnaissez-vous coupable sur ces chefs ? » Et comme elle allait parler
ils lui ordonnèrent d'enlever son chapeau. Alors elle leur dit avec douceur
d'un air résolu et souriante : « Je ne connais aucun crime dont j'aie
à m'avouer coupable. » — Le juge : « Si, vous avez logé des
jésuites et des prêtres ennemis de Sa Majesté. » — La martyre : « Je
n'ai jamais connu ni logé personne de ce genre, pas plus que je n'ai nourri quiconque
qui fût ennemi de la reine. Dieu m'en garde. » — Le juge : « Comment
voulez-vous qu'on instruise votre procès ? » — La martyre :
« N'ayant commis aucun crime, je ne vois pas de raison à ce qu'on me fasse
mon procès. » — Le juge : « Vous avez bravé les
statuts il faut en conséquence qu'on instruise votre procès. » Et il lui
redemandait ainsi fréquemment comment elle voulait qu'on instruisît son
procès. — La martyre : « Si vous dites que j'ai commis un
crime et qu'on doit me faire encore procès, je n'en veux pas d'autre que devant
Dieu et vos consciences. » — Le juge : « Non ! il
n'en peut être ainsi, car si nous siégeons ici, c'est pour que justice soit
faite et obéissance rendue à la loi. En conséquence, il faut que votre procès
soit fait par le pays. » La martyre réitéra son appel à Dieu et à leurs
consciences.
Alors
on apporta deux calices et plusieurs images saintes, et par moquerie on revêtit
deux voyous des vêtements sacerdotaux. Ils se mirent alors à gesticuler et à se
démener devant les juges et, tenant des pains d'autel, ils dirent à La
martyre : « Vois les “bon Dieu” en qui tu crois. » Ils lui
demandèrent comment elle trouvait les vêtements sacerdotaux. La martyre dit :
« Je les trouverais très bien s'ils étaient sur le dos de personnes capables
de les porter pour l'honneur de Dieu, suivant leur destination. »
Le
juge Clinch se leva et lui demanda : « En qui croyez-vous ? — Je
crois en Dieu. — En quel Dieu ? — Je crois en Dieu le
Père, en Dieu le Fils et en Dieu le Saint-Esprit ; en ces trois personnes et en
un seul Dieu je crois pleinement, et aussi que c'est par la passion, la mort et
les mérites du Christ Jésus qu'il faut que je sois sauvée. » — Le
juge : « Vous parlez bien », et il n'ajouta rien de plus. Quelques moments
après, les juges lui dirent : « Margaret Clitherow, qu'avez-vous encore à dire?
Consentez-vous à vous en remettre par votre procès à Dieu et au pays ? »
— La martyre : « Non. » — Le juge : « Ma bonne dame, songez
bien à ce que vous faites; si vous refusez le jugement par le pays, vous vous
rendez coupable et travaillez à votre propre perte, car nous ne pouvons que
vous appliquer la loi. Vous n'avez rien à redouter de ce mode de procédure, car,
selon moi, le pays ne peut vous déclarer coupable sur la dénonciation d'un
enfant. » La martyre s'obstinait dans son refus ; ils lui demandèrent si son
mari n'était pas dans le secret de sa conduite relativement aux prêtres qu'elle
cachait; elle répondit : « Dieu sait que je n'ai pas encore amener mon mari à
tel état qu'il fût digne de savoir où était le prêtre et d'y venir servir Dieu.
» — Le juge reprit : « Il nous faut procéder contre vous en vertu du statut qui
vous condamne à une mort cruelle pour n'avoir pas voulu vous laisser juger. » —
La martyre dit : « Que la volonté de Dieu soit faite. Je pourrai, je pense,
souffrir n'importe quel genre de mort pour une sj bonne cause. » Quelqu'un de
l'assistance, la voyant toujours souriante, dit qu'elle était folle et possédée
par un esprit souriant ! M. Rhodes la tourna en dérision à propos de sa foi
catholique et des prêtres. Les autres conseillers firent de même et M.
Hurleston cria brutalement devant
tout
le monde : « Ce n'est pas par religion que vous logez des prêtres, mais par
paillardise, » et il lui jeta d'autres outrages de ce genre d'un ton furieux.
La Cour leva la séance sans prononcer de sentence, et Margaret fut emmenée
du Common Hall parmi une grande troupe de hallebardiers. Elle
souriait toujours et, joyeuse, distribuait de l'argent des deux côtés de la rue
jusque chez M. John Trewe, qui habitait sur le pont. On l'introduisit dans
cette maison et elle y fut enfermée dans une chambre étroite. Le soir même,
tandis que la martyre priait à genoux, le ministre Wiggington, fameux prédicant
puritain, vint la trouver. Il se mit à l'endoctriner, suivant la coutume de ces
gens-là. La martyre ne lui prêta guère d'attention et le pria de ne pas la
déranger, car, dit-elle, « vos fruits correspondent à vos paroles. » Il la
quitta donc. Elle passa la nuit dans sa petite chambre avec un nommé Yoward et
sa femme, gens de la secte du ministre et mal disposés envers elle.
Le
lendemain, vers huit heures, la martyre fut ramenée au Common Hall. Quand
elle fut debout à la barre, le juge dit : « Margaret Clitherow, qu'avez-vous à
dire de plus? Hier soir, nous vous avons renvoyée sans jugement, bien que nous
eussions pu en rendre un s'il nous avait plu d'en agir ainsi. C'était dans
l'espoir que vous vous montreriez un peu plus docile et que vous vous en
remettriez au jugement du jury, car il faut, coûte que coûte, que la loi
s'accomplisse. Nous ne voyons aucune raison sérieuse de votre part de vous y
refuser; on n'apporte contre vous que de faibles témoignages, et le jury prendra
votre cas en considération. »
«
De vrai, dit la martyre, je crois bien que vous n'avez contre moi d'autres
témoins que des enfants à qui avec une pomme ou des verges on peut faire dire
tout ce qu'on souhaite. » — Les juges : « Il est manifeste que vous aviez des
prêtres chez vous, ce qu'on y a découvert le prouve assez. » — La martyre
: « Je ne vois aucun motif qui puisse m'interdire de recevoir, ma vie
durant, de bons prêtres catholiques. Ils ne viennent que pour servir moi et
d'autres. » — MM. Rhodes, Hurleston et d'autres dirent : « Ce sont tous des
traîtres, des canailles, des imposteurs. » — La martyre : « Dieu vous
pardonne; vous ne parleriez pas d'eux de telle façon si vous les connaissiez.
»— Les juges : « Vous les détesteriez vous-même si vous saviez comme nous leur
trahison, leur perfidie et leur perversité. » — La martre ; « Je les connais
pour des hommes vertueux que Dieu ne nous envoie que pour le salut de nos âmes.
» — Elle gardait toujours son maintien ferme et modeste. Le juge Clinch dit : «
Que décidez-vous ? Voulez-vous vous en remettre au jury ou non? » — La
martyre : « Je ne vois aucun motif qui m'oblige à prendre ce parti. Je
m'en remets de ma cause à Dieu et à vos consciences. Faites votre devoir. »
Tous
les assistants la traitaient d'obstinée et de folle, parce qu'elle ne cédait
pas ; de toutes parts on essayait de la persuader de s'en remettre au jury
qui ne pourrait, sur des preuves tellement insignifiantes, la déclarer
coupable. Elle s'y refusait. « Eh bien, dit M. Clinch, il faut que nous
portions la sentence. Il dépend de nous ainsi que du jury, si vous lui remettez
votre procès, de prononcer la grâce ; autrement la loi doit avoir son cours. »
Le
ministre Wiggington se leva et dit au juge : « Milord, je demande la parole. »
Mais le murmure et le bruit qui se faisaient dans le Hall couvraient le bruit
de sa voix. Il continua de réclamer la parole. M. Clinch commanda de faire
silence et le ministre dit : « Milord, prenez bien garde à ce que vous faites.
Vous siégez ici pour rendre la justice dans l'affaire de cette dame. Il y va de
la vie ou de la mort. Vous ne devez pas, et les lois de Dieu et les hommes ne
vous permettent pas de la condamner à mort sur le témoignage d'un enfant. Vous
ne pouvez faire rien de semblable sans le témoignage de deux ou trois hommes de
bonne réputation. Ainsi, Milord, regardez-y bien. Cette affaire tournera
mal. » — Le juge dit : a Je me conforme à la loi. — A quelle loi
? — A la loi de la reine. — C'est possible, mais en vertu de la loi de Dieu,
conclut Wiggington, vous ne pouvez—le faire. » Et il s'en tint là.
Le
juge, désireux de faire partager par le jury entier l'angoisse de sa propre
conscience, et s'imaginant que si les jurés la déclaraient coupable ses mains
seraient pures du sang versé, reprit une fois de plus : « Ma bonne dame, je
vous en prie, allez au jury, qui n'aura contre vous que la dénonciation d'un
enfant; quoi que disent les jurés, nous pourrons encore vous prendre en
pitié. » La martyre refusa.
M.
Rhodes dit : « Passerons-nous la journée entière à nous occuper de cette mégère
entêtée? Dépêchons-lui son affaire. » — Le juge reprit encore : a Si vous ne
voulez pas vous soumettre au jugement du jury, voici quelle sera votre
sentence. Vous retournerez là d'où vous venez ; on vous mènera dans les
souterrains de la prison et on vous mettra toute nue. Puis on vous couchera le
dos sur le sol et on mettra sur vous la charge la plus lourde que vous pourrez
supporter. Vous demeurerez trois jours dans cette torture sans boire ni manger
qu'un peu de pain d'orge et de l'eau sale. Le troisième jour, les mains et les
pieds attachés à des pieux, une pierre aiguë sous l'échine, on vous écrasera. »
La
martyre, debout, ne montra point de crainte, ne changea pas de physionomie et
dit avec douceur : « Si ce jugement est conforme à votre, conscience, je prie
Dieu qu'il vous en fasse un moins rigoureux devant son tribunal ; mais j'en
remercie Dieu du fond du coeur. » — Le juge dit encore : « J’agis conformément
à la loi et vous préviens que telle sera votre sentence, à m'oins que vous ne
vous laissiez juger par le jury. Réfléchissez-y. Vous avez un mari et des
enfants à chérir; ne soyez pas vous-même la cause de votre perte. — Plût à
Dieu, dit la martyre, que mon mari et mes enfants eussent à souffrir avec moi pour
une pareille cause. » Paroles qui firent répandre le bruit parmi les hérétiques
qu'elle aurait volontiers pendu son mari et ses enfants si elle l'avait pu
faire. Cette sentence une fois prononcée, le juge dit encore : « Margaret
Clitherow, que décidez-vous enfin ? Voulez-vous vous en remettre au jugement du
jury ?
Malgré
la sentence rendue contre vous conformément à la loi, nous voulons vous
témoigner encore de la pitié si vous voulez bien, de votre côté, vous y prêter
en quelque manière. » La martyre, levant les yeux au ciel, dit joyeusement : «
Grâce à Dieu, tout ce que Dieu m'enverra sera bien venu. Je ne suis pas digne
d'une aussi bonne mort que celle-ci. J'ai mérité la mort pour les péchés que
j'ai commis contre Dieu, mais pour aucune des choses dont on m'accuse. » Le
juge ordonna alors au shériff de s'occuper d'elle, et celui-ci lui lia les bras
avec une corde. La martyre, regardant un de ses bras, puis l'autre, eut un
sourire qui révélait sa joie de porter des liens pour l'amour du Christ. Ce
sourire exaspéra la fureur des juges. Le shériff, flanqué de hallebardiers,
reconduisit Margaret dans la maison du pont où elle était détenue. Quelques
conseillers furent envoyés épier sa physionomie sur le trajet lorsqu'elle
quitta le Hall; mais elle traversait les rues l'air joyeux, ce qui fit dire : «
Il faut qu'elle ait reçu consolation du Saint-Esprit, » et tous étaient
stupéfaits de la voir si joyeuse. D'autres disaient qu'il en était autrement,
qu'elle était simplement possédée d'un démon de gaieté et qu'elle recherchait
la mort. Elle marchait entre les deux shériffs et distribuait de l'argent à
droite et à gauche pour autant que ses liens lui permettaient de le faire. A
partir de ce moment personne n'eut la permission de lui parler, si ce n'est les
ministres et les gens autorisés par le Conseil.
Quand
M. Clitherow sut que Mrs Clitherow était condamnée, il parut semblable à un
homme qui a perdu le sens et il pleura avec tant de véhémence qu'il eut un
saignement de nez très abondant. Il dit : « Hélas ! vont-ils tuer ma femme ?
Qu'ils prennent tout ce que j'ai et lui laissent la vie sauve. C'est la
meilleure épouse de toute l'Angleterre et la meilleure des catholiques aussi. »
Le
surlendemain, si j'ai bonne mémoire, M, Meares vint la voir et Sir Thomas
Fairfaix, ainsi que les autres conseillers, lui posèrent diverses questions à
huis-clos sur lesquelles je n'ai pas de détails certains. Je n'en sais rien de
plus, sinon qu'ils lui demandèrent si elle voulait aller à l'église avec eux,
ne fût-ce que pour ouïr un seul sermon et, le cas échéant, elle serait graciée.
Elle répondit qu'elle le voulait bien s'ils daignaient la laisser choisir le
prédicateur et lui accorder sauf-conduit pour aller et venir. Ils lui
demandèrent en outre si, en conscience, elle se croyait enceinte. Elle dit
qu'elle ne le savait pas d'une façon certaine et ne voudrait pas pour tout au
monde affirmer en conscience qu'elle l'était ou ne l'était pas, mais qu'elle
croyait plutôt l'être. Ils lui demandèrent pourquoi elle refusait un sursis
temporaire. « Je ne demande aucune faveur dans cette affaire, dit-elle, faites
comme il vous plaira. » Ils lui demandèrent encore si elle ne connaissait pas
Ingleby et Mush, les deux prêtres traîtres. Elle répondit : « Je n'en connais
pas de tels. — Avez-vous le courage de parler ainsi ! dirent-ils, prenez garde
de mentir. — Je n'accuserai personne; vous me tenez ; faites de moi ce que vous
voudrez. » Je n'ai rien entendu dire de plus relativement à la visite des
conseillers. Cette visite faite, ils se rendirent chez le juge et lui firent
leur rapport.
Les
parents et amis de Mrs Clitherow se donnèrent beaucoup de peine pendant toute
la semaine pour l'amener à se déclarer enceinte, mais elle ne consentit jamais
à l'affirmer. Elle dit qu'elle ne voudrait pas feindre devant Dieu et devant
les hommes, pour cette raison qu'elle ne pouvait dire ni oui ni non.
Le
mercredi, le shériff d'York alla trouver le juge Clinch et lui demanda que
faire de la prisonnière. « On ne peut l'exécuter, répondit le juge, car, à ce
qu'on m'assure, elle est enceinte. » Rhodes, Meares, Hurleston, Ckecke et les
autres insistèrent énergiquement pour qu'elle fût exécutée conformément à la
sentence et à la loi. M. Rhodes dit : « Frère Clinch, vous êtes trop
compatissant en cette affaire. Si Mrs Clitherow ne subit le traitement porté
par la loi, elle sera cause de la perte d'un grand nombre. — Si elle est
enceinte, dit M. Clinch, je ne consentirai pas à sa mort. — En ce cas, Milord,
dit le shériff, je vais la faire examiner par des femmes. — C'est superflu, dit
le juge, appelez quatre honnêtes personnes de sa connaissance et qu'elles
vérifient ce qui en est. »
Le
jeudi, les quatre dames vinrent trouver la martyre et rapportèrent au juge
qu'elle était enceinte, autant qu'elles pouvaient en juger et l'inférer de ses
paroles.
Le
soir même [ou le lendemain] M Hurleston, les conseillers et les ministres qui
avaient la soif la plus ardente de son sang vinrent trouver M. Clinch dans sa
chambre et lui dirent : « Milord, cette femme ne peut bénéficier du privilège
que lui vaut sa grossesse, puis-qu'elle a refusé de se faire juger par le jury
et que la sentence de mort a été prononcée. — Mister Hurleston, dit M. Clinch,
Dieu nous préserve de la faire mourir étant enceinte ! Bien qu'elle soit
criminelle, l'enfant qu'elle porte dans son ventre ne l'est pas. Aussi me
donnerait-on mille livres que je ne consentirais pas à sa mort avant qu'elle
ait été de nouveau examinée. » Hurleston insista et dit : « Elle est la seule
de son espèce dans le nord de l'Angleterre, et si on la laisse vivre, il y en
aura bientôt d'autres pareilles qui n'auront plus lû crainte de la loi. Ainsi,
Milord, réfléchissez et qu'elfe subisse sa sentence, car je prends sur ma
conscience qu'elle n'est pas enceinte. » Le juge n'y voulait nullement consentir
; mais, croyant laver ses mains avec Pilate, il s'en remit de tout au Conseil,
demandant aux membres d'en faire à leur gré, et il partit, ordonnant de
surseoir à l'exécution jusqu'au vendredi suivant, 25 mars, fête de Notre-Dame,
et alors d'en faire comme ils jugeraient bon, si, d'ici là, ils ne recevaient
pas contre-ordre de sa part.
Après
son jugement, la martyre se prépara par d'abondantes prières à la mort,
craignant de n'être pas digne de subir une telle mort pour l'amour de Dieu. Ce
fut alors qu'elle fit dire à son père spirituel de prier ardemment pour elle,
car la plus lourde croix qu'elle dit jamais eue à porter était l'angoisse
qu'elle éprouvait d'échapper à la mort.
Le
lendemain de sa condamnation, arrivèrent Bunney, ministre fameux, Pease et
Cotterill, hérétiques arrogants, et d'autres encore qui dirent à Mrs Clitherow
« Le Conseil nous envoie pour conférer avec vous sur trois points et pour voir
si vous vous montrerez traitable ou non. D'abord nous voulons savoir pourquoi
vous refusez le jury conformément à la loi ; et en cela vous témoignez votre
obstination à chercher la mort en opposition avec la loi de Dieu, par
conséquent vous devenez responsable et coupable de votre propre mort en
contraignant la loi de s'accomplir sur vous à la rigueur, ce qui ne peut
s'éviter en pareil cas, tandis qu'en vous laissant juger suivant une autre
juridiction, vous auriez pu avoir la vie sauve, étant donnée la faiblesse des
preuves [invoquées contre vous]. Cependant c'était une chose bien connue et
prouvée que vous donniez le vivre et le couvert à des traîtres contrairement
aux lois de Sa Majesté. »
La
martyre répondit : « Je suis femme et ignorante des lois civiles. Si j'ai
commis un crime, j'en demande pardon à Dieu et j'ignore si, oui ou non, j'ai
violé ces lois ; mais en conscience je ne les ai pas violées. Quant aux
traîtres, je n'en ai jamais nourri ni logé chez moi. »
En
deuxième lieu, les visiteurs lui demandèrent : « Savez-vous si vous êtes
enceinte ou non, bien que, ajouta le ministre, vous ne puissiez pas bénéficier
[du sursis accordé à] cet état. — Je ne puis dire ni oui ni non, m'étant déjà
trompée d'autres fois en pareille circonstance ; c'est pourquoi je ne puis vous
répondre positivement ; mais j'incline plutôt à me croire grosse. »
Ils
lui demandèrent enfin : « Pourquoi refusez-vous de venir à notre Église quand
nous avons des témoignages si clairs et si solides attestant que la vérité est
de notre côté. » Et à ce propos ils citèrent beaucoup de textes de
l'Écriture. — « Je ne suis pas de votre Église, dit la martyre, et
Dieu me préserve d'en jamais faire partie, car je suis depuis douze ans la foi
catholique, grâce à Dieu. Et si maintenant j'allais céder à la crainte ou à la
faiblesse, tout ce que j'ai fait jusqu'ici deviendrait inutile. Je préfère la
mort. »
M.
Pease dit : « Qu'est-ce que l'Église? Vous ne le savez pas! Vous avez été
égarée par des guides aveugles qui vous ont fait croire à des blocs de bois et
à des moellons ainsi qu'à des traditions d'hommes qui contredisent la parole
de Dieu. Répondez-moi : « Qu'est-ce que l'Église ? » — C'est la société dans
laquelle est prêchée la véritable parole de Dieu laissée par le Christ à ses
apôtres et à leurs successeurs qui distribuent les Sept sacrements. C'est cette
parole que l'Église a toujours gardée, qu'ont prêchée les docteurs, qu'ont
attestée ses martyrs et ses confesseurs. C'est là l'Église que je crois
véritable. » Jugeant qu'elle alléguait quoi que ce soit en faveur de l'Église
de Rome, et comme elle y revenait sans cesse dans toute sa conversation, ils
lui dirent : « Vous vous écartez de la question. » — Puis Bunney se mit à faire
une sorte de discours solennel et à citer les passages de l'Écriture, Dieu sait
à quelle intention. La martyre dit : « Je vous prie, ne me fatiguez pas ainsi ;
je ne suis pas théologien et ne puis répondre à ces questions difficiles.
Suivant la loi de Sa Majesté, je dois mourir, et bien que ma chair puisse se
révolter, mon esprit le souhaite fort. Je répète comme je l'ai fait jusqu'à ce
moment mon désir de mourir catholique. Ma cause est celle de Dieu, et c'est un
grand réconfort pour moi de mourir pour sa querelle. La chair est faible, mais
j'ai confiance en mon Seigneur Jésus qu'il me donnera la force de supporter les
souffrances et les tourments 'qu'on m'infligera pour son amour. »
En
troisième lieu vint Wiggington, le puritain ; à ce qu'on dit, il commença ainsi
: « Mistress Clitherow, j'ai pitié de votre situation. On m'envoie voir si vous
voulez être un peu plus docile. Ne vous perdez pas vous-même ni votre corps, ni
votre âme. Peut-être pensez-vous être martyre ; vous vous trompez grossièrement.
On n'est martyr que d'une façon. Ce n'est pas le genre de mort, mais la cause
de mort qui fait le martyre. Sons le règne de la reine Mary et sous le règne de
la reine Elisabeth, bien des gens ont été mis à mort pour les deux opinions
opposées. En conséquence ils ne peuvent être martyrs les uns et les autres ;
ainsi, bonne Mistress Clitherow, prenez pitié de vous-même. Le Christ a fui
devant ses persécuteurs ; ses apôtres l'ont imité, et pourquoi ne
chercheriez-vous pas à sauver votre propre vie en cette circonstance ? — Quant
à être martyre, dit-elle, je ne ;suis pas encore assurée de l'être, puisque je
vis encore; mais si je persévère, je sais vraiment que je serai sauvée. — N'en
êtes-vous pas assurée » ? reprit-il. — « Non certainement, tant que je vivrai,
parce qu'il peut m'arriver de faire des choses mauvaises. — Et de quelle façon,
dit Wiggington, pensez-vous, Mistress Clitherow, que vous serez sauvée ? — En
Vertu de la passion amère et de la mort du Christ Jésus », dit-elle. — « C'est
bien dit, ajouta-t-il, mais vous croyez beaucoup d'autres choses, telles que
images, cérémonies, sacramentaires, sacrements et choses de ce genre ; ainsi
[vous ne croyez] pas seulement au Christ. — Je crois suivant que l'Église
catholique m'enseigne qu'il y a sept sacrements, et dans cette foi je veux
vivre et mourir. Quant à toutes les cérémonies, je crois qu'elles ont été
instituées pour l'honneur de Dieu et de sa gloire, et pour promouvoir sa gloire
et son service. Quant aux images, elles ne sont que pour nous représenter qu'il
y a eu des hommes bons et vertueux sur la terre qui maintenant jouissent de la
gloire dans le ciel ; elles servent encore à exciter nos intelligences molles
et paresseuses à un surcroît de dévotion quand nous les regardons. Je n'ai
d'autre croyance sur les images. » Wiggington dit : « Il n'y a pas sept
sacrements, mais deux seulement le baptême et la cène. Quant aux autres, ce ne
sont que des cérémonies de bonnes et saintes choses et partant point des
sacrements. — « Tous sont des sacrements, dit la martyre ; ils ont été
institués par le Christ et ses apôtres et l'Église les a tous maintenus depuis
lors. — Eh bien, Mistress Clitherow, dit Wiggington, je suis désolé de ne
pouvoir vous convaincre. » Et il la quitta pour ce jour-là.
Tous
les jours qui suivirent, des ministres ou des parents, tant hommes que femmes,
vinrent la supplier de prendre pitié de son mari de ses enfants. Mais la
martyre leur répondit très courageusement et fermement. Parmi ces visiteurs se
trouva le lord maire. Il essaya de toutes façons de la décider à, céder sur
quelques points, se faisant fort d'obtenir sa grâce. Il s'était élevé à la
haute situation qu'il occupait dans le monde par son mariage avec la mère de la
martyre, riche veuve morte dans l'été qui précéda le drame. A genoux devant
elle, dit-on, il se livra à de grandes démonstrations de douleur et
d'affliction, essayant par des caresses de l'amener à faire quelque chose
contre sa conscience ; mais elle résista vaillamment. S'apercevant qu'il
n'obtiendrait rien, il lui demanda de lui confier la tutelle de sa fille. Elle
le remercia, refusant son offre courtoise dans la crainte que l'enfant ne fût
infectée de son hérésie. Le samedi suivant, Bunney revint et commença d'abord
par essayer poliment de la persuader. « Bon Dieu, Mistress Clitherow, dit-il,
voyez votre situation. Vous êtes condamnée à mort et vous serez exécutée.
Faites quelque chose, sinon il vous faudra mourir. » Et il fit comme un
discours mêlé de textes de l'Écriture. La martyre souhaita lui donner satisfaction,
« car je suis fermement résolue, dit-elle, en toutes choses qui touchent à ma
foi que je fonde sur Jésus-Christ. Et par lui je crois fermement être sauvée.
C'est la foi qu'il laissa à ses apôtres que ceux-ci transmirent à leurs
successeurs à travers les âges et qu'on enseigne dans toute la chrétienté.
Jésus-Christ promit de rester avec [son Église] jusqu'à la fin du monde et que
les portes de l'enfer ne prévaudraient pas contre elle. Par la grâce de Dieu,
je veux vivre et mourir dans cette foi. Si un ange venait du ciel prêcher une
doctrine différente de celle que nous avons reçue, l'apôtre nous recommande de
n'y pas croire. Donc si je suivais votre doctrine, je désobéirais au
commandement de l'apôtre. A cause de cela, je vous prie de tenir ce qui précède
pour ma réponse ,et de ne plus troubler ma conscience. » — Benney dit : « Hélas
! Mistress Clitherow, je suis désolé de votre grand entêtement. Plût à Dieu que
vous vissiez le danger de votre âme. Que Dieu illumine les yeux de votre coeur
pour que vous connaissiez avec quel aveuglement vous avez été séduite par les
jésuites romains et les prêtres, » etc. Voyant qu'il ne pouvait d'aucune façon
triompher d'elle, il commença à s'irriter et l'accusa de se dérober ; il dit
qu'elle n'était plus la même femme qu'autrefois, mais bien moins pliante. « Je
m'étonne, dit la martyre, que vous m'accusiez de la sorte. M'avez-vous trouvée,
depuis que je suis en prison, dans une disposition différente de celle où je
suis maintenant ? Ne vous ai-je pas toujours répondu que tout ce que l'Église
catholique enseigne et croit, je le crois fermement, moi aussi ? Je ne sacrifie
pas un seul article de ma foi, et j'espère de mon Seigneur Dieu ne faire jamais
rien de semblable. »
Vers
le lundi Wiggington revint et dit : « Mistress Clitherow, je suis revenu une
fois de plus vous voir. Je suis envoyé par le Conseil m'assurer si vous êtes
plus docile que vous ne l'étiez auparavant. Voulez-vous venir écouter un bon
sermon ? autrement je ne sais comment vous échapperez à la loi. » La martyre
répondit : « J'entendrais un sermon de grand coeur. — C'est fort bien-dit, ma
bonne Mistress Clitherow. — Comprenez-moi, interrompit-elle ; je veux le faire
si je puis avoir un prêtre ou prédicateur catholique ; mais quant à venir à vos
sermons, je ne le ferai jamais. — Si vous voulez venir à un sermon, je vous
procurerai un bon et saint homme de vie et de doctrine sûres, dussè-je le
chercher dans la partie la plus éloignée de l'Angleterre. » Mistresse Yoward,
qui se trouvait là, dit : « Voici le doyen de Durham, Toby Matthew, un homme
pieux et instruit). Je suis sûre qu'il prendra autant que personne de la peine
pour vous servir. » La martyre répondit : « Je n'aurai jamais le doyen de
Durham ni quelque autre de cette secte. Ma foi est ferme ; je ne veux pas
chercher de nouvelles doctrines. » Wiggington dit : « J'ai vu un jour le Christ
dans une vision et je suis assuré de mon salut. » La martyre sourit et garda le
silence. Alors Wiggington cita des textes des docteurs pour prouver la vérité
de sa doctrine., La martyre dit : « Si vous vouliez croire les docteurs et les
suivre, nous serions tous deux, vous et moi, d'une même croyance, mais vous
vous en séparez. Je n'ai pas l'instruction qu'il faut pour les lire, mais je
crois que ce qu'ils ont prêché est la vérité. — Eh bien, Mistress Clitherow,
dit-il, je vois que vous vous perdez volontairement, sans songer à votre mari
et à vos enfants ; vous suivez des guides aveugles. Quelqu'un d'entre eux
est-il instruit ? je serais curieux de le savoir. — Lisez leurs livres et vous
le saurez, » dit la martyre. Après qu'il se fut apitoyé sur elle quelque temps,
il s'en fut et ne revint plus.
Un
autre prédicateur nommé Harwood vint à son tour et entreprit de la persuader de
s'en remettre au jugement du jury, de se soumettre au Conseil et de confesser
qu'elle avait offensé Dieu et Sa Majesté. Elle pourrait peut-être ainsi
obtenir sa grâce. « Je prie Dieu, dit la martyre, de pouvoir lui être soumise
dans mes humbles devoirs et à mon prince dans toutes les choses temporelles;
mais dans l'affaire dont on m'accuse, j'espère n'avoir offensé Dieu ni la
reine. » Le ministre, suivant son usage, commença à invectiver et à blasphémer
les jésuites et les prêtres, les appelant traîtres à Sa Majesté et disant
qu'elle leur donnait asile et les soutenait. — « Je n'ai jamais donné asile ni
soutenu des traîtres à Sa Majesté, sinon des gens qui ne lui ont jamais
souhaité rien de plus mauvais que pour leurs propres âmes. »
Diverses
personnes la venaient visiter de temps à autre, disant qu'elle mourrait en
désespérée sans se soucier de son mari ni de ses enfants ; mais qu'elle semait
l'occasion de leur perte et ferait si bien que tout le peuple se soulèverait
contre elle. [On lui remontrait] à quel point étaient généreuses les lois de la
reine et en quelle façon le Conseil voulait bien s'occuper d'elle et lui
témoigner de la bienveillance, si elle faisait sa soumission, par un sursis
qu'il lui accorderait ; enfin, en l'envoyant, lui, Harwood, conférer avec elle
touchant sa fin. — « Vous m'accusez injustement, dit la martyre.
Je ne meurs pas en désespérée et je ne suis pas la cause volontaire de ma mort.
N'ayant pas été trouvée coupable des crimes dont on m'a accusée et cependant
condamnée à mort, je n'ai pu que me réjouir, ma cause étant également la
querelle de Dieu. Je n'ai pas craint non plus la teneur de la sentence de mort,
mais j'ai eu honte pour les juges d'avoir dit des mots si malpropres à
l'audience, comme de commander de me mettre toute nue et de m'écraser jusqu'à
ce que mort s'ensuive. Devant des hommes ils auraient pu, je pense, s'abstenir
de ces paroles offensantes pour mon sexe. En ce qui concerne mon mari, sachez
que je l'aime le premier dans ce monde après Dieu, et que j'ai soin de mes
enfants comme une mère en doit avoir soin. Je crois avoir fait mon devoir
envers eux en les élevant dans la crainte de Dieu, et je pense être maintenant
déchargée d'eux. Pour cette raison je suis prête à les offrir librement à Dieu
qui me les a donnés plutôt que de céder un iota sur ma foi.
«
Je confesse que la mort est terrible et que la chair est faible, et cependant
je veux, avec l'assistance de Dieu, répandre mon sang pour cette fois aussi
volontiers que je donnais mon lait à mes enfants et ne souhaite pas voir
retarder ma mort.
— Vous
ne pouvez, dirent-ils, alléguer aucune raison que vous mourez pour la religion,
mais par désobéissance et parce que vous gardez des traîtres dans votre maison,
contrairement aux lois du royaume. — Je le nie, dit la martyre ; je n'ai pas
gardé de traîtres. Dites ce qu'il vous plaira, je n'en démords pas. Je déclare
que je meurs pour la foi catholique dans laquelle je fus baptisée. — Vous
n'êtes pas, lui dit-on, de l'opinion de Mr. Hart, qui dit être permis aux
femmes qui n'ont pas d'instruction pour défendre leur cause d'aller à
l'église. — Father Hart n'était pas de votre avis et n'eût pas dit pareille
chose, et l'eût-il dit que je ne l'en aurais pas cru. Mais il répondit à toutes
vos objections, ainsi qu'il est manifeste. — Sachez encore, dirent-ils, que Mr.
Comberford renia le pape et confessa avoir été mené aveuglément pendant des
années. — Ce n'est pas le premier mensonge que l'on prête aux morts qui ne
peuvent répondre ; mais un tel aveu ne vous vaudrait que peu de crédit. » —
Quand ils virent qu'ils ne pouvaient la persuader ni la faire céder en quoi que
ce soit, ils apportèrent des accusations ridicules contre elle et lui dirent
comment le petit garçon [qui l'avait dénoncée] avait avoué avoir péché avec des
prêtres, et que les prêtres et elle faisaient bonne chère pendant qu'elle
servait à son mari du pain, du beurre et un hareng saur. Cela la fit sourire.
Elle dit : « Dieu volis pardonne ces histoires inventées [à plaisir] ! Quant au
petit garçon et à ce qu'il a dit, je vous assure qu'il en dirait autant pour une
livre de figues. » Ils la poussèrent à avouer qu'elle avait offensé son mari. —
« Si j'ai offensé mon mari en quoi que ce soit en dehors des choses de la
conscience, j'en demande pardon à Dieu et à lui. » Cependant ils continuaient
de la pousser à avouer quelques fautes contre lui pour médire d'elle ensuite. —
« Je pense, dit la martyre, que mon mari ne m'accuse pas de l'avoir offensé en
n'importe quel temps, à moins que ce ne soit dans tees petites affaires qui
surviennent couramment entre mari et femme, et je vous en supplie, dit-elle,
laissez-moi lui parler avant de mourir. » Ils lui dirent qu'elle n'en ferait
rien, à moins de céder sur quelque point. — « Que la volonté de Dieu soit
faite, dit la martyre, car je n'offenserai pas Dieu et ma conscience pour lui
parler. »
Ne
pouvant triompher d'elle sur aucun point, ils se mirent à contredire toutes ses
paroles, à contrecarrer toutes ses actions ; mais ils ne purent lui faire
commettre une seule impatience à troubler sa paix et sa contenance.
Deux
jours avant le martyre, les shériffs d'York vinrent lui dire le moment fixé
pour son exécution. La martyre remercia Dieu et les pria d'aller au lieu où
elle souffrirait pendant la moitié d'un jour ou d'une nuit à l'avance, et d'y
demeurer tout ce temps jusqu'à l'instant de sa mort ; ils le lui refusèrent.
Les
shériffs partis, la martyre dit à une de ses amies : « Les shériffs disent que
je mourrai vendredi prochain, et voilà que je sens la faiblesse de ma chair qui
se trouble à cette nouvelle, quoique mon esprit se réjouisse beaucoup. Pour
l'amour de Dieu, priez pour moi et demandez à toutes les bonnes gens de faire
de même. » S'agenouillant, elle fit une rapide prière, et la crainte et
l'horreur de la mort disparurent bientôt, ainsi qu'elle le dit elle-même.
Dans
ses paroles, sa contenance et sa conduite, elle ne se montra jamais triste et
chagrine ou craintive à part cette unique fois. N'attendant et n'espérant pas
le pardon malgré le long sursis apporté à l'exécution et tant de paroles
prononcées, son esprit demeurait fixé sur lâ. pensée de sa fin. Elle
sollicitait instamment des prières pour sa persévérance et sa vaillance
spirituelle, afin de vaincre dans ces combats et de quitter joyeusement ce
monde pour la gloire de Dieu et l'honneur de l'Eglise catholique.
Six
jours avant l'exécution, son mari fut mis en liberté et obligé par le conseil
de sortir de la ville pour cinq jours, ce qui fit comprendre à la martyre qu'on
allait enfin boire son sang. Depuis son premier séjour dans la prison de
l'Ousebridge, elle quitta sa chemise et n'en porta plus désormais pendant les
jours qui lui restaient à vivre. Sa nourriture se composait d'une soupe à
l'eau, de pain de seigle et de bière faible qu'elle ne prenait qu'une seule
fois le jour et en petite quantité. Depuis le jour où les shériffs l'avertirent
du moment exact de sa mort (ce qui eut lieu le mardi soir), elle ne prit aucune
nourriture.
Etant
dans sa chambre avec Yoward et la femme de celui-ci, la nuit qui précéda sa
mort, elle dit à la femme de Yoward : « Je serais bien contente si une servante
me tenait compagnie cette nuit, non par crainte de la mort, qui m'est un sujet
de consolation, mais la chair est faible.» Mrs,, Yoward dit : « Hélas, Mistress
Clitherow, le geôlier est parti, la porte est verrouillée et on ne peut avoir
personne. » Alors la susdite femme de Yoward, prête à aller se coucher,
rattacha ses habits et, s'asseyant à côté de la martyre, demeura au moins
jusqu'à minuit; après quoi elle alla se mettre au lit. Quand l'horloge sonna
minuit, elle vit la martyre agenouillée se lever, enlever tous ses vêtements et
revêtir une chemise de lin semblable à une aube qu'elle avait cousue de ses
propres mains trois jours auparavant en vue de son martyre. Elle s'agenouilla
de nouveau, sans rien sur elle que cette chemise. De minuit à trois heures elle
se leva et s'approcha du feu. Là, elle se coucha tout de son long sur les
pierres pendant un quart d'heure. Après cela elle se leva et alla se coucher.
Elle se couvrit de ses vêtements et demeura ainsi jusqu'à six heures du matin.
Elle se leva, s'habilla, et se prépara à l'arrivée du shériff.
Elle
souhaitait que Mrs. Yoward assistât à sa mort avec quelques bons catholiques,
pour lui faire ressouvenir de Dieu pendant sa dernière agonie et l'angoisse de
sa mort. Mrs. Yoward dit qu'elle ne voulait aucunement voir une mort si atroce
pour toute la ville d'York. « Mais, ajouta-t-elle, je vous amènerai quelques
amis pour jeter sur vous des poids très lourds, afin que vous soyez délivrée le
plus tôt possible. — Non, non, Mistress Yoward, dit la martyre, non pas; Dieu
me garde de permettre sciemment à qui que ce soit de tremper dans ma mort. »
Vers
huit heures, les shériffs se présentèrent ; elle était prête et les attendait,
ayant relevé son abondante chevelure avec un pauvre ruban neuf et portant sur
le bras sa nouvelle chemise de lin ainsi que des cordes qu'elle avait préparées
pour qu'on lui liât les mains. Elle alla joyeusement à ses noces, suivant sa
propre expression. Distribuant des aumônes dans la rue qui était si encombrée
de monde qu'elle pouvait à grand'peine avancer, elle alla, jambes et pieds nus,
sa robe flottant autour d'elle. Faweet, le shériff, se hâta et dit : « Venez,
Mistress Clitherow. » La martyre répondit d'un ton jovial : « Mon bon Master
shériff, laissez-moi distribuer mes pauvres aumônes avant; que je m'en aille,
car il ne me reste plus que peu de temps. » Tous s'émerveillèrent de sa joyeuse
contenance.
Le
lieu de l'exécution était le Tollbooth, séparé de la prison par six ou sept
gardes . Se trouvaient présents au martyre : les deux shériffs d'York, Faweet
et Gibson, Frost, ministre, Fox, parent de Mr. Cheeke, avec plusieurs de ses
hommes et quatre sergents qui avaient gagé quelques mendiants pour exécuter le
meurtre, trois ou quatre hommes et quatre femmes.
La
martyre, pénétrant dans le Tollbooth, s'agenouilla et pria à voix basse. Les
bourreaux lui demandèrent de prier avec eux et ils voulurent prier avec elle.
La martyre refusa et dit : « Je ne prierai pas avec vous et vous ne prierez pas
avec moi. Je ne veux pas dire Amen à vos prières et je ne veux pas que vous le
disiez aux miennes. »
Ils
voulurent alors qu'elle priât pour la reine. La martyre commença dans cet
ordre :
D'abord,
de manière que tous pussent l'entendre, elle pria pour l'Eglise catholique,
puis pour la sainteté du pape, les cardinaux et les autres pères qui ont charge
d'âmes, et puis pour tous les princes chrétiens. A ce point les bourreaux
l'interrompirent, ne voulant pas qu'elle logeât Sa Majesté parmi cette
compagnie.
Cependant
la martyre continua dans cet ordre : « et spécialement pour Elisabeth, reine
d'Angleterre, afin que Dieu la convertisse à la foi catholique, et qu'après
cette vie mortelle elle obtienne les joies bienheureuses du ciel. Car,
dit-elle, je souhaite autant de bien à l'âme de Sa Majesté qu'à la mienne. »
Shériff
Gibson, saisi d'horreur de cette scène cruelle, se tenait à la porte pleurant.
Alors shériff Faweet dit : « Mistress Clitherow, il faut vous rappeler et
confesser que vous mourez pour trahison. » — La martyre répondit : « Non, non !
Master shériff, je meurs pour l'amour de mon Seigneur Jésus. » Elle dit ces
derniers mots d'une voix forte. Alors Faweet lui commanda de se déshabiller. «
Car vous devez mourir toute nue, dit-il, comme la sentence a été rendue et
portée contre vous. » La martyre et les autres femmes l'implorèrent à genoux
qu'elle pût mourir en chemise et que, pour l'honneur de son sexe, ils ne la
vissent pas nue; mais cela ne fut pas accordé. Alors elle demanda que des
femmes pussent la déshabiller et qu'ils détournassent leurs visages pendant ce
temps.
Les
femmes lui ôtèrent ses habits et lui passèrent la longue robe de lin. Alors
elle se coucha très tranquillement par terre, le visage couvert d'un mouchoir,
la robe de lin placée sur elle aussi loin qu'elle pouvait arriver ; tout le
reste de son corps était nu. La porte fut mise sur elle ; elle joignit ses
mains vers son visage. Alors le shériff dit : « Non, il faut que vos mains
soient liées. » La martyre étendit ses mains toujours jointes par-dessous la
porte. Les deux sergents les séparèrent, et avec les cordes de fil qu'elle
avait préparées dans ce but les lièrent à deux poteaux, de sorte que son corps
et ses bras firent une croix parfaite. Alors ils voulurent de nouveau qu'elle
demandât pardon à Sa Majesté et qu'elle priât pour elle. La martyre répondit
qu'elle avait prié pour elle. Ils voulurent aussi qu'elle demandât pardon à son
mari. La martyre dit : « Si jamais je l'ai offensé, sauf lorsqu'il s'agissait
de ma conscience, je lui demande pardon. »
Après
cela ils mirent des poids sur elle : dès qu'elle les sentit elle dit : « Jésus,
Jésus, Jésus, ayez pitié de moi ! » Ce furent les dernières paroles qu'on
lui entendit dire.
Elle
mit un quart d'heure à mourir. Une pierre aiguë aussi grande qu'un poing
d'homme fut placée sous son dos ; sur elle on mit environ sept ou huit cents
poids au moins.
Ce
poids, brisant les côtes, les fit éclater à travers la peau. Ainsi cette
gracieuse martyre triompha très victorieusement de tous ses ennemis, passant de
cette vie mortelle avec un triomphe merveilleux à la cité paisible de Dieu,
pour y recevoir une couronne méritée de joie et d'immortalité sans fin .
Ceci
eut lieu à neuf heures : elle demeura dans la prison jusqu'à trois heures de
l'après-midi. Avant sa mort elle envoya son chapeau à son mari en signe du
tendre respect qu'elle lui devait comme à son chef. Elle envoya ses bas et ses
souliers à sa fille aînée, Anne, qui avait environ douze ans, pour lui faire
voir qu'elle devait servir Dieu et la suivre dans ses traces de vertu.
La
petite fille fut d'abord mise en prison, parce qu'elle ne voulait pas trahir sa
mère, et là on la maltraita beaucoup, en général parce qu'elle ne voulait pas
aller à l'église ; mais lorsque sa mère fut martyrisée, les hérétiques vinrent
lui dire, qu'à moins qu'elle allât à l'église pour entendre un sermon, sa mère
serait mise à mort. L'enfant, pensant par là sauver la vie de sa mère, alla à
un sermon et ainsi on la trompa.
[1] Un de ses frères était catholique, William Clitherow, ordonné sous-diacre à Reims, le 19 mai 1580 ; prêtre à Soissons, le 9 mai 1580.
[2] St Mary's Convent possède la seule
relique existante de Margaret, la main de la martyre. Cf. John Morris, op.
cit., t. III, p 52. Le corps, enterré pendant la nuit qui suivit l'exécution,
fut retrouvé exempt de corruption, après six semaines, par un catholique.
Celui-ci l'emporta et l'emmena dans un lieu inconnu, où il fut exhumé intact
huit semaines après la mort.
SOURCE : http://nova.evangelisation.free.fr/margaret_clitherow.htm
_-_geograph.org.uk_-_539003.jpg)
_-_geograph.org.uk_-_539011.jpg)
Also
known as
Margaret Clitheroe
Margaret Middleton
Margarita Clitherow
Margherita Clitherow
Marguerite Clitherow
one of the Forty Martyrs of England and Wales
the Pearl of York
25
October as one of the Forty Martyrs of England and Wales
Profile
Daughter of Thomas and
Jane Middleton, a candle
maker and the Sheriff of York for two years. Raised Anglican. Married to
John Clitherow, wealthy butcher and chamberlain of
the city of York, on 8 July 1571. Converted to Catholicism around 1574. Imprisoned several
times for her conversion,
for sheltering priests (including
her husband’s brother), and for permitting clandestine Masses to
be celebrated on her property. During her trial in Tyburn, London, England on 14 March 1586,
she refused to answer any of the charges for fear of incriminating her servents and children;
both her sons became priests,
her daughter a nun.
Born
1556 at
York, England as Margaret
Middleton
pressed
to death on Good Friday, 25 March 1586 at
York, England
right hand preserved at
Saint Mary’s Convent, York
8
December 1929 by Pope Pius
XI (decree of martyrdom)
15
December 1929 by Pope Pius
XI
25
October 1970 by Pope Paul
VI
Elizabethan houswife
kneeling or standing on a heavy wooden door
Additional
Information
Great
Wives and Mothers, by Father Hugh
Francis Blunt
Mementoes
of the English Martyrs and Confessors, by Father Henry
Sebastian Bowden
Saints
of the Day, by Katherine Rabenstein
books
A
Calendar of the English Martyrs of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries
Book of Saints, by the Monks of
Ramsgate
Our Sunday Visitor’s Encyclopedia of Saints
other
sites in english
British Broadcasting Corporation
Father T A McGolderick, MA (pdf)
images
video
sitios
en español
Martirologio Romano, 2001 edición
fonti
in italiano
Dicastero delle Cause dei Santi
Martirologio Romano, 2005 edition
strony
w jezyku polskim
Readings
God be thanked, I am not
worthy of so good a death as
this. – Saint Margaret,
when advised of her sentence
I die for the love of my Lord
Jesu. – Saint Margaret,
when asked to confess her crimes before execution
MLA
Citation
“Saint Margaret
Clitherow“. CatholicSaints.Info. 28 June 2023. Web. 30 April 2025.
<https://catholicsaints.info/saint-margaret-clitherow/>
SOURCE : https://catholicsaints.info/saint-margaret-clitherow/
St. Margaret Clitherow
St. Margaret Clitherow
was born in Middleton, England, in 1555, of protestant parents. Possessed of
good looks and full of wit and merriment, she was a charming personality.
In 1571, she married John
Clitherow, a well-to-do grazier and butcher (to whom she bore two children),
and a few years later entered the Catholic Church. Her zeal led her to harbor
fugitive priests, for which she was arrested and imprisoned by hostile
authorities.
Recourse was had to every means in an attempt to make her deny
her Faith, but the holy woman stood firm.
Finally, she was
condemned to be pressed to death on March 25, 1586. She was stretched out on
the ground with a sharp rock on her back and crushed under a door over laden
with unbearable weights. Her bones were broken and she died within fifteen
minutes.
The humanity and holiness of this servant of God can be readily
glimpsed in her words to a friend when she learned of her condemnation: “The
sheriffs have said that I am going to die this coming Friday; and I feel the weakness
of my flesh which is troubled at this news, but my spirit rejoices greatly. For
the love of God, pray for me and ask all good people to do likewise.” Her feast
day is March 26th.
SOURCE : http://www.ucatholic.com/saints/st-margaret-clitherow/
St. Margaret Clitherow
Martyr,
called the "Pearl of York", born about 1556; died 25 March 1586. She
was a daughter of ThomasMiddleton, Sheriff of York (1564-5), a
wax-chandler; married John Clitherow,
a wealthy butcher and a chamberlain of the city, in St. Martin's
church, Coney St., 8 July, 1571, and lived in the Shambles, a
street still unaltered. Converted to the Faith about three
years later, she became most fervent, continually risking her life by
harbouring and maintaining priests,
was frequently imprisoned,
sometimes for two years at a time, yet never daunted, and was a model of
all virtues. Though her husband belonged to the Established Church,
he had a brother a priest,
and Margaret provided two chambers, one adjoining her house and a
second in another part of the city, where she kept priests hidden
and had Mass continually celebrated through the thick of the persecution.
Some of her priests were martyred,
and Margaret who desired the same grace above all things,
used to make secret pilgrimages by
night to York Tyburn to pray beneath
the gibbet for this intention. Finally arrested on 10 March, 1586, she was
committed to the castle. On 14 March, she was arraigned before JudgesClinch and Rhodes and
several members of the Council of the North at
the York assizes. Her indictment was that she had harboured priests,
heard Mass, and the like; but she refused to plead, since the
only witnessesagainst her would be her own little children and servants,
whom she could not bear to involve in the guilt of her death. She was therefore
condemned to the peine forte et dure, i.e. to be pressed to death.
"God be thanked, I am not worthy of so good a death as
this", she said. Although she was probably with child, this
horrible sentence was carried out on Lady Day, 1586 (Good
Friday according to New Style). She had endured
anagony of fear the previous night, but was now calm, joyous,
and smiling. She walked barefooted to the tollbooth on Ousebridge, for she
had sent her hose and shoes to her daughter Anne, in token that she should
follow in her steps. She had been tormented by the ministers and
even now was urged to confess her crimes. "No, no, Mr. Sheriff,
I die for the love of my Lord Jesu", she answered. She
was laid on the ground, a sharpstone beneath her back, her hands stretched
out in the form of a cross and bound to two posts. Then a door was
placed upon her, which was weighted down till she was crushed to death. Her
last words during an agonyof fifteen minutes, were
"Jesu! Jesu! Jesu! have mercy on me!" Her right hand is
preserved at St. Mary'sConvent, York,
but the resting-place of her sacred body is not known. Her
sons Henry and William became priests,
and her daughter Anne a nun at St.
Ursula's, Louvain.
Her life, written by
her confessor, John Mush, exists in two versions. The earlier has
been edited by FatherJohn Morris, S.J., in his "Troubles of our Catholic
Forefathers", third series (London, 1877). The latermanuscript,
now at York Convent, was published by W. Nicholson, of Thelwall
Hall, Cheshire (London, Derby, 1849), with portrait: "Life and Death of
Margaret Clitherow the martyr of York".
It also contains the "History of Mr. Margaret Ward and Mrs. Anne
Line, Martyrs".
[Note: St. Margaret
Clitherow was canonized by
Pope Paul VI in 1970.]
Camm,
Bede. "St. Margaret Clitherow." The Catholic Encyclopedia. Vol.
4. New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1908. 25 Mar.
2016 <http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/04059b.htm>.
Transcription. This
article was transcribed for New Advent by Marcia L. Bellafiore.
Ecclesiastical
approbation. Nihil Obstat. Remy Lafort, Censor. Imprimatur. +John
M. Farley, Archbishop of New York.
Copyright © 2023 by Kevin Knight.
Dedicated to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.
SOURCE : http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/04059b.htm
Shrine of Saint Margaret Clitherow, 35 Shambles - The Shambles, York. House, late C14, now religious shrine. Grade II* listed.
Shrine of Saint Margaret Clitherow, 35 Shambles - The Shambles, York. House, late C14, now religious shrine. Grade II* listed.
Shrine
of Saint Margaret Clitherow, 35 Shambles - The
Shambles, York. House, late C14, now religious shrine. Grade II* listed.
Margaret Clitherow M (RM)
Born in York, England, c. 1556; died there 1586; beatified in 1929; canonized
in 1970 by Pope Paul VI as one of the Forty Martyrs of England and Wales; feast
day formerly April 2.
Margaret was the daughter of a prosperous candlemaker, Thomas Middleton, who
later became sheriff, but who died when she was about nine. Her mother
remarried. In 1571, Margaret married John Clitherow, a prosperous grazier and
butcher, who held various civic offices. He was an honorable, kind, easy-going,
and generous man. Contemporaries described Margaret as well-liked, attractive,
merry, and witty. "Everyone loved her and would run to her for help,
comfort, and counsel in distress."
The couple, who lived in the Little Shambles of York, had three children. The
eldest, Henry, was predestined to carry on the family trade. Next came Anne,
then another little boy.
Margaret had been reared a Protestant but three years after her marriage to
another Protestant, who never converted, she became a Catholic. From her
earliest childhood, Margaret spent much time in prayer and had thought upon God
with profound love and great reverence. Honestly and without any consideration
of worldly advantage of peace she had prayed for light, that she might be able
to distinguish which faith was the true one. When she felt sure that she knew
this, she acted without fear or wavering.
Her husband, now the chamberlain of York, was fined repeatedly because Margaret
did not attend Protestant services, yet he stood by her. That was how the state
attempted to keep Catholics from the Mass--break them down to penury. When they
could no longer pay the fines, they were thrown into prison. But this was not
Margaret's problem.
She was religiously vocal and active and was imprisoned for two years for not
attending the parish church. She was confined in a filthy, cold, dark hole, fed
on the poorest prison fare, separated from her loved ones, yet she herself
refers to this time as 'a happy and profitable school.' Here no one could be
inconvenienced by her fasting and austerities.
While in prison she learned to read; after she was released, she organized in
her house a small school for her children and her neighbors' children.
Nevertheless, her husband stood by her for she was "a good wife, a tender
mother, a kind mistress, loving God above all things and her neighbor as
herself." By the sweetness of her nature, she bore witness to the charm of
piety.
In a specially built room she hid priests who sought refuge from penal laws,
and her home became one of the most important hiding places of the time. Masses
were said by the guests, and Margaret would station herself behind the others,
nearest the door, possibly to give the alarm in case of discovery.
In 1584, she was confined to her home for a year and a half, apparently for sending
her eldest son to Douai in France to be educated. She made barefoot pilgrimages
to the execution places of martyred priests, doing so at night to evade spies.
These pilgrimages to the spot soaked with the blood of martyrs gave her courage
to face the troubles and dangers of daily life.
Her husband remained silent about her activities, but he was summoned before
the court in 1586 to give an account of why his son, who was attending a
Catholic college, was abroad. While he was thus occupied, his house was raided,
but no trace of priests or sacred vessels could be found.
His children were interrogated and gave nothing away, but a Flemish student
broke down under threats and revealed the secret room. Vessels and books for
celebrating Mass were discovered, and Margaret was accused of hiding priests, a
capital offense, and taken to prison. She was joined two days later by her
friend, Mrs. Ann Tesh (or Agnes Leech according to another account), whom the
boy had also betrayed. She and her friend joked to keep up their spirits.
Her children, the servants, and poor John Clitherow himself were divided among
various prisons, and little Anne Clitherow, a child of 10, was ill-treated for
refusing to disclose anything of her mother's affairs, or to cease praying as
her mother had taught her.
When called before the judge in the Guildhall of York, Margaret said, "I
know of no offense whereof I should confess myself guilty." She was urged
by Judge Clinch to choose a trial by jury, but she resisted because she did not
want her children, servants, and friends to have to testify, and thus have to
perjure themselves and offend God or testify against her--and know that they
had caused her death, which she knew was inevitable. "Having made no
offense, I need no trial. If you say I have offended, I will be tried by none
but by God and your own conscience."
Her replies under examination show that this self-taught woman was able to
support her faith by purely intellectual arguments and to correct the various
Protestant clergymen's erroneous assertions regarding Catholic dogmas and
practice.
One Puritan who had argued with her in prison courageously declared in court
that to condemn someone on the charge of a child was contrary to the law of God
and man. The judge wished to save her but was overruled by the council, and so
he sentenced her to the penalty for refusing to plead, the peine forte et dure,
which is to be pressed to death.
She was not allowed to see her children, and she was still visited by people
who tried to change her mind, including her stepfather, who was mayor of York
that year. She saw her husband once. One clergyman spoke kindly to her.
Margaret begged him to say no more:
"I ground my faith upon Jesus Christ, and by Him I steadfastly believe to
be saved, as is taught in the Catholic Church through all Christendom, and
promised to remain with Her unto the world's end, and hell gates shall not
prevail against it: and by God's assistance I mean to live and die in the same
faith; for if an angel come from heaven, and preach any other doctrine than we
have received, the Apostle biddeth us not to believe him. Therefore, if I
should follow your doctrine, I should disobey the Apostle's commandment."
On the eve of her death, March 25, 1586, Margaret requested companionship, and
a Protestant woman in jail for debt was provided. She did not know what to say,
so she watched as Margaret knelt for hours in prayer gaining a radiant calm as
she did so.
Thus, at the age of 30, Margaret went to her death smiling, carrying over her
arm a long white robe; her shroud, which she had made in prison. On reaching
the vaulted cellar where she was to die, she prayed for the Catholic clergy,
and for Queen Elizabeth, that God would change her faith and save her
soul. She refused to pray with Protestants in attendance.
Margaret was executed in the Toolboothe at York, the first woman to suffer the
ultimate penalty of the new penal code. She was made to strip and lie flat on
the ground, with a sharp stone under her back, and her hands were bound to
posts. A large oak door was laid over her and weights totalling seven or eight
hundred pounds were placed upon it until she burst (though she had suffocated
first). It took about 15 minutes for her to die, and her last words were:
"Jesu, Jesu, Jesu, have mercy upon me!"
She had sent her hat to her husband "in sign of her loving duty to him as
to her head," and her shoes and stockings to her daughter, that she should
follow in her steps. The child became a nun at Saint Ursula's Convent in
Louvain, and both of Margaret's sons became priests.
Margaret's body was buried in a rubbish heap outside the city wall. Six weeks
later some Catholics disinterred it and carried it away but no one knows where.
But one hand had been severed from the body--this is the relic of Margaret
Clitherow that is venerated today at Saint Mary's Convent in York.
No one had told Margaret's two imprisoned children that their mother was dead.
In fact, little Anne was told by some Protestants that if she would not go to
their church and hear a Protestant sermon, her mother would be put to death. So
the child went, to save her mother's life.
Her biography was written by her confessor, Father John Mush. One of Margaret's
hands is preserved in a reliquary at the Bar Convent in York. She shrine is in
a road off the Shambles of York (Attwater, Attwater2, Benedictines, Claridge,
Delaney, Farmer, Undset, White).
In art, Saint Margaret is depicted as an Elizabethan housewife, kneeling; or
standing on a heavy wooden door (White). A contemporary portrait shows her to
be charming in appearance with irregular, intelligent, and delicate features
surrounded by the becoming matron's coif of the period, a broad and open
forehead, finely drawn eyebrows, and a sweet little mouth (Undset).
SOURCE : http://www.saintpatrickdc.org/ss/0325.shtml
Mementoes
of the English Martyrs and Confessors – Blessed Margaret Clitheroe, 1586
Article
Wife of John Clitheroe,
sometime Sheriff of York, she was thirty years of age, and already married,
when a growing dissatisfaction with the Protestant religion led her, after due
inquiry, to embrace the faith. During the following twelve years of her
Catholic life her house was a refuge for priests, whom she received at her own
peril and unknown to her husband. With this help she brought up her children in
the faith and her eldest son for the priesthood. She managed to hear Mass
almost daily, communicated twice a week, and fasted rigorously. For her
persistent recusancy she was repeatedly cast into prison, even for two years
together and more, but her sufferings only increased her fervour. “Were it
not,” she said, “for her husband and child she would rather stay there always,
apart from the world with God.” Still, when at liberty she was most attentive
to the care of her house, and with her servant took part herself in the humblest
menial work. She was exposed to much ill-usage even from Catholics, who
misjudged and censured her, but her constancy and patience never failed. Her
husband said she had only two faults, fasting too much and refusing to go to
Church.
Forbidden to see husband
or child, pestered by successive ministers, and herself charged with gross
immorality, Margaret learnt at length, on 24 March, that she was to die on the
morrow, that year Good Friday. She had prepared herself for this by fasting and
prayer, but she begged for a maid to be with her during the night, for “though
death is my comfort,” she said, “the flesh is frail,” but as no one could be
admitted the keeper’s wife sat with her for a while. The first hours of the
night Margaret passed on her knees in prayer, clothed in a linen habit made by
herself for her passion. At three she rose and laid herself flat on the stones
for a quarter of an hour, then rested on her bed. At eight the Sheriffs called,
and with them she walked barefoot, going along through the crowd to the
Tolbooth. There turning from the ministers she knelt and prayed by herself.
Forced to undress, she laid herself on the ground clothed only in the linen
habit, her face covered with a handkerchief, her hands outstretched and bound
as if on a cross. The weighted door was laid on her; at the first crushing pain
she cried, “Jesu, Mercy,” and after a quarter of an hour passed to her God.
On 10 March 1586, when
she had been at liberty some eighteen months, her husband was summoned before
the Council at York, and in his absence his house was searched. The priest
there in hiding escaped, but Margaret and her children were taken prisoners. Enraged
at their failure the searchers stripped a Flemish boy of twelve years, staying
in the house, and threatened him with rods till he showed them the priest’s
chamber, and where the Church stuff was kept. At her trial, lest her children
might be forced by evidence to be guilty of her blood, she refused to plead,
giving as a reason how ever that she had committed no offence. Two chalices
were therefore produced and religious pictures, and two ruffians clad
themselves in the priestly vestments and began playing the fool, pulling and
hauling themselves before the judges, while one, holding up a piece of bread,
said to the martyr, “Behold the God in whom thou believest.” At her second
examination she again refused to plead, saying that there was no evidence against
her save that of children, whom you can make say anything for a rod or an
apple. The judge urged her to demand a jury, but in vain, and on her refusal
she was sentenced to be pressed to death.
MLA
Citation
Father Henry Sebastian
Bowden. “Blessed Margaret Clitheroe, 1586”. Mementoes
of the English Martyrs and Confessors, 1910. CatholicSaints.Info.
24 April 2019. Web. 30 April 2025.
<https://catholicsaints.info/mementoes-of-the-english-martyrs-and-confessors-blessed-margaret-clitheroe-1586/>
Plaque
on Ouse River, Yorkshire.
Plaque
commémorative fixée sur le pont d'Ouse, près de York.
ST. MARGARET: MOTHER
AND MARTYR
Daniel F. McSheffery
You must return from
whence you came, and there, in the lowest part of the prison, be stripped
naked, laid down, your back on the ground, and as much weight laid upon you as
you are able to bear, and so to continue for three days without meat or drink,
and on the third day to be pressed to death, your hands and feet tied to posts,
and a sharp stone under your back.
These words of
condemnation were spoken by a British magistrate of her majesty Queen
Elizabeth. On Tuesday, March 15, 1586, in the Court of York, Judge George
Clinch condemned to death Margaret Middleton Clitherow, a 33-year-old Yorkshire
housewife who was pregnant with her fourth child. Her crime was sheltering
Roman priests who were "traitors and seducers of the queen's
subjects."
We know many of the
details of the life of this heroic martyr, especially her last painful days of
imprisonment, from her spiritual director Father John Mush, a seminary priest.
Recognizing the holiness of her life and the great inspiration she was to persecuted
Catholics throughout Elizabethan England, Mush wrote a detailed biography in
the days immediately following her gruesome execution.
Margaret Middleton was
born during the last years of the reign of Mary Tudor. Her parents were Thomas
and Jane Middleton. Her father was a respected businessman—a candlemaker—in the
city of York. One of five children, she was brought up Protestant and like the
other girls in the family she was not taught to read or write. This did not
mean she was a neglected child but that the closing down of the religious
orders had all but destroyed the country's educational system. Few of the girls
living in the city of York in those days received any education at all.
Margaret lived in
turbulent times. Elizabeth came to the throne in 1558. The vast majority of
English people were Catholic and wished to remain Catholic. When the new queen
threatened to destroy their Church, they shrugged their shoulders and waited
for it to all blow over. It took several years for them to realize, when it was
too late, that if they wanted to retain their faith, they must be ready to
suffer for it. The law clearly stated that the Mass was outlawed and the whole
population was ordered to attend the new services in their parish church.
The Middleton family
accepted the new religion and the Queen as the head of the Church. Her father
prospered and became sheriff of York. He died when his daughter was 14.
When Margaret was 18, her
mother arranged that she marry a Protestant, John Clitherow, who owned his own
meat business and became one of the wealthiest men in the city. He was
confident that his new wife would join him in worshipping in the Queen's
Church.
This she did for the
first couple of years of their marriage. At the age of 21, however, the bride
returned to the Church of her ancestors and made her profession of faith and
allegiance to the Pope of Rome. At the same time John professed his Protestant
faith and became a chamberlain in the city of York.
The Clitherow family
reacted to this difference of religion in the same way that many of the wealthy
families did. The husband conformed to the new religion while his wife did not.
Throughout their marriage, John paid her fines for not attending church
services, even allowed his wife to bring up their children as Catholics and was
very careful not to know if the forbidden Popish Mass was being celebrated in
his house.
John was not hostile to
the Church. In fact his brother William was ordained a Catholic priest. Like
many others in England of his day, the chamberlain of York probably expected
the Catholic faith would return before long and he did not want to be
completely on the wrong side of the fence if this should happen. So he did make
things as easy as he could for his wife. He was careful to ignore the fact that
Father Mush was a frequent visitor and obviously was celebrating Mass for
Margaret and her friends.
Margaret proved to be a
loving wife and mother. She was disturbed by John's protestations of faith in
the Queen's religion but she still loved him dearly. Speaking of him in later
life she remarked, "Know you, I love him next to God in this world. . . .
If I have offended my husband in any way, save for my conscience, I ask of God
and him forgiveness." Her husband shared her love. He said that he could
wish for no better wife, "except only two faults, and these were, she
fasted too much and would not go with him to church."
The Clitherows had three
children: Henry, Anne, and the third child William born when she was in prison
for failure to attend services at the established church. While in prison, she
taught herself to read and write. She always maintained a great rapport with
all her children and they grew up as staunch Catholics even though they never
knew their mother beyond their twelfth year. Knowing that she could not educate
them herself she violated the law by hiring a Catholic tutor, a man named
Stapleton. He became responsible for the education of the two younger children
and she secretly sent her oldest son to be educated in the Catholic college at
Douai in France. She never lived to see the day when her two sons were ordained
as priests and her daughter entered religious life.
Her home became one of
the most important hiding places for fugitive priests in all of England. The
Clitherow house was equipped with a secret cupboard where the vestments, the
wine and the altar breads were kept. It also had a "priest's hole"
where the fugitive cleric could be hid. When her house was under almost
constant surveillance, Margaret hired a room some distance off that also
provided a hiding place for the priest. Local tradition among the Yorkshire
people said that she also housed her clerical guests right under the noses of
the authorities in the Black Swan Inn at Peaseholme Green. Mass, it was said,
was celebrated in the inn where the Queen's agents were lodged.
Margaret, meanwhile, was
becoming a fearless and very outspoken Catholic.
The government was
perturbed by the persistence of so many of the people of Yorkshire in the old
faith. The area was far removed from London. For a long time past, the Kings of
England had appointed a special body called the Council of the North to carry
out the royal policy in this remote area of the land. From the reports of
government agents, it was clear that the north was solidly Catholic in
sentiment, though not always in outward behavior. The change of religion had to
be carried out largely by men who were specially sent down by the government
for that purpose.
A child weakened
Those close to the Queen
demanded that the Council of the North crack down with strong measures to make
an example of the prominent Catholics in the community. On March 10, 1586, the
council summoned the Chamberlain of York, John Clitherow and demanded that he
explain the absence of his son abroad. This was a bold move because the
chamberlain was a well respected member of the Protestant community. He was
outraged and refused to give them any information about the whereabouts or
activity of his son Henry who had enrolled in the seminary in France.
Margaret was not upset to
find out that her husband was summoned. She was sure that the authorities would
use the occasion to search their home but she was certain that they would find
nothing that would incriminate her or her husband. Mass had been said that
morning and the priest had escaped. The faithful Mr. Stapleton was conducting
class for a group of children. When the alarm was sounded, the teacher escaped
through a window. When the searchers burst open the schoolroom door, they found
nothing but a group of children studying their lessons. Had it been only the
Clitherow children and their Catholic neighbors involved, the authorities would
not have learned very much. The Yorkshire children were strong in their faith
and were not easily intimidated.
There was in the group a
weak spot. There was an older student whom the children considered a foreigner.
He was older than all the rest-about 14 years of age. He was Flemish and a
stranger to the ways of England and its anti-Catholic laws. Fear showed on his
face and the authorities recognized it. They stripped him and threatened him
with a flogging. He quickly gave in and told them everything he knew.
He showed them
everything—where the Mass was said and where the vestments and altar breads
were kept. This was more than the searchers had even hoped for. It clearly
proved that Mass was being celebrated in the house despite the law. The Flemish
boy told them everything he knew and even some things he did not know. He was
only too willing to speak and not too accurate in what he said.
Quickly the authorities
ransacked the house. They carried off all of the incriminating evidence. The
two Clitherow children were taken to loyal Protestant families and Margaret was
never allowed to see her children again. The servants were arrested and thrown
into prison because they were loyal to their mistress. Once again Margaret
found herself in prison.
When she was brought
before the council, she astonished everyone. She was not only fearless, she had
a smile on her face. She seemed relieved at being arrested. It was as if she
had foreseen the danger and it may have been a relief to have the suspense end
when the outcome was known to be inevitable. She was confined with her friend
Anne Tesh who was being held for hearing Mass. The two were supportive of each
other and confounded their captors with their continued good humor in their
jail cell.
On the third day of her
confinement, the authorities allowed her husband John to visit her briefly. The
visit took place in the presence of the jailer. She was never to see her
husband again. The meeting had a sobering effect on both.
During the days of her
confinement, the authorities spread rumors about her throughout the community.
One of the priests that said Mass at her home, Father Francis Ingleby was
arrested but the Council could not find anyone who could connect him with
Margaret. The great difficulty in getting evidence showed how strong was the
popular sentiment on the Catholic side.
Many pleaded with her
Early in the evening of
Monday, March 14, Margaret Clitherow was brought before the judges at Common
Hall in the city of York. A large crowd was in the streets and in the court for
she was dearly loved by many of the citizens. Her indictment was read and she
was asked how she pleaded. In answer she said, "I know of no offense
whereof I should confess myself guilty. Having made no offense, I need no
trial."
Following her refusal to
plead guilty the judges tried to convince her to stand trial. For hours they
tried to discredit her but she refused to be shaken. Judge Clinch warned her
that if she refused to stand trial, the law would sentence her to a far more
painful death than a jury could. The other judges on the panel accused her of
crimes of every kind including having intercourse with the priests she
harbored. Nothing seemed to move her and the presiding judge sent her back to
prison for the night hoping that the solitary confinement would alter her
thinking and bring her to her senses.
On the next day she was
taken back to the Common Hall in the early morning. Judge Clinch reminded her
that under the law of Queen Elizabeth, when an accused person refused to make a
plea and stand trial before a jury, the accused would be sentenced to what was
called "peine forte et dure." The person was laid naked on the stone
floor of an underground cell with a door laid over him and on the door heavy
stones were piled. Further weights were piled upon him until he was pressed to
death.
Margaret refused to make
a plea and to stand trial because she did not want her young children called to
court. She told her friend Mrs. Tesh that she knew she would be executed in any
case and she did not want to have her children forced to give evidence against
their mother. Many at the court pleaded with her to change her mind. Even the
judge tried to persuade her to no avail.
Finally the judge passed
sentence that she should be crushed to death as a punishment for having
"harbored and maintained Jesuits and seminary priests, traitors to the Queen's
majesty and her laws."
Ten days were allowed to
pass between her sentencing and execution. On the day of her execution she was
calm and forgiving. When asked to pray for the Queen, she asked God to turn Her
Majesty to the Catholic faith. They placed the board upon her and the hired
executioners placed the huge stones upon her. Within a quarter of an hour she
was dead. The sheriffs left the body under the door from nine in the morning
until three in the afternoon. They then buried her body in some waste ground,
where they hoped it would never be found.
Her death took place on
March 25, 1586 on Good Friday.
In 1970, Pope Paul VI
canonized St. Margaret Clitherow under the charming title of "The Pearl of
York." Her home at #36 The Shambles is on one of the most beautiful
streets in her native city. It has become a martyr's shrine and each year thousands
of pilgrims come to pay her homage.
Margaret Clitherow was a
martyr for her Catholic Faith. She died because she harbored the priests of
Christ's Church and made it possible for them to celebrate the Eucharist for
the faithful in England in the time of Queen Elizabeth. It was through the
faith and the courage of women like St. Margaret that the Church survived the
Great Persecution and survives and flourishes today.
This article appeared in
the April 1994 issue of "The Homiletic & Pastoral Review," 86
Riverside Dr., New York, N.Y. 10024, 212-799-2600, $24.00 per year.
Provided Courtesy of:
Eternal Word Television Network. 5817 Old Leeds Road. Irondale, AL 35210
www.ewtn.com
SOURCE : http://www.ewtn.com/library/MARY/CLITHER.htm
_-_stained_glass%2C_the_Pearl_of_York.jpg)
Saint
Margaret of York Catholic Church (Loveland, Ohio) - stained glass, the Pearl of
York
Saint
Margaret Clitherow, by Father Hugh Francis Blunt
The English Reformation,
if it has perpetuated for all time the picture of degraded womanhood in Queen
Elizabeth, so also has it immortalized the memory of many a noble woman. How
time shows the real value of things! Back in the year 1586 there were living in
England two women: one was queen of a great kingdom, seated upon her throne,
listening to the voice of flatterers, trembling for her very crown, which had
come to her through the lust and dishonesty of the miserable Henry VIII. Her
dainty fingers held the sceptre; she was a fortunate, a successful ruler. But
in the eyes of God those dainty fingers were the fingers of a Lady Macbeth, red
with blood which all the seas of the world could never again make white. Yet to
the world of her day she was the most happy of women.
The other woman was
deemed the most unhappy of women; a traitor to this great queen, a woman, too,
whose gentle body was covered with blood, but blood that is the sign of glory
unending. She was Margaret Clitherow, the first woman martyr in the reign of
Elizabeth, a gentle wife and mother crushed to her death because she followed
her conscience and served her God. An unfortunate woman to her age, a fool to
lay down her life for such a simple thing as religion, when but a word would
have saved her to years of happiness. But the centuries have gone by; and as we
look across them to behold the queenly woman on her throne and the disgraced
martyr on her bed of death, do we need to say which of them was the happier,
which the more to be envied, the Queen who risked her eternal salvation for the
bauble of a crown, or the young Catholic wife who chose to serve God rather than
an earthly ruler, and so went the way of suffering and death to reign with
Christ in Heaven?
Margaret Clitherow, whose
maiden name was Middleton, was born and lived all her life in the city of York.
Her father was Thomas Middleton, a wax- chandler, evidently a man of means and
of some importance in the community, for we find him holding various offices,
acting as sheriff for one year, and at different times a member of the Common
Council. After his death his widow did not long remain inconsolable, for four
months later she married a man named Henry May, who by a strange circumstance
was lord mayor of the city at the time his stepdaughter Margaret Clitherow was
put to death for her faith.
With her mother and her
stepfather Margaret made her home for four years, until the time of her
marriage in 1571 to John Clitherow, a wealthy butcher, who established her in a
magnificent home which later on was to be the hiding-place of many a poor
priest with a price on his head. It is said that she was very beautiful, the
fairest of brides. It was a happy marriage, a home with all that the world
could give, money, position, and love, with never a trial until the day when
God tested her in his fiery furnace.
For some years now the
Protestant religion was dominant in England. The revolt that had been begun by
Henry in his lust and covetousness of the Church’s goods had been consummated
by his illegitimate daughter Elizabeth. She had succeeded to the throne in
1558, two years after the birth of Margaret Middleton. Thomas Middleton,
judging from the offices he had held, had evidently conformed to the new
religion with his wife. At any rate, Margaret was brought up in the queer new
Protestant religion. She knew no better. The old Catholic religion was a
despised thing by those who sought preferment in holding to the new faith which
Elizabeth set up in order to make her position secure. In a worldly sense she
was driven to it, though she had little religion of any kind in her own
make-up. Rome had in justice branded her as illegitimate from the fact that her
mother’s marriage with Henry was null. Catholics in general regarded her as a
usurper of the throne, which they declared belonged by right to Mary Queen of
Scots. Hence her aim was to banish the old religion for her own safety.
And little Margaret
Middleton, as she grew up, was made to conform to the new order of things. At
the time she was married to John Clitherow there were in York many signs of the
passing of the old order. The altars in the churches were being torn down, the
altar- stones turned into pavements; the rood-lofts with their great crucifixes
were burned, the glorious windows of stained glass broken, the gold and silver
altar vessels melted down to enrich the destroyers, and the Scripture scenes
that had been painted on the walls obliterated by coats of whitewash. There was
an effort to make the people forget all the beauties that had been, and this
with such diabolical hatred that in York itself no less than nineteen churches
were destroyed.
But, try as she might, Margaret
found no consolation in the new religion. For three years after her marriage –
she was but fifteen when she married – she followed the new faith. But all the
while it palled on her. Her soul was not satisfied. All the more was she
discontented as she heard the touching stories about the priests and laymen who
went to their death in defence of the old religion. She little thought that the
day would come when she, too, would be called upon to lay down her life in
defence of it. Even in those days the martyrs of the faith made an appeal to
her. Surely, she thought, the faith must be true that could inspire such
heroism. And so, after earnest prayer and study, the light of faith came to
her, and she was received into the Catholic Church.
Even if Margaret
Clitherow had never died the martyr’s death, her name would deserve to be held
in everlasting remembrance as that of an exemplary wife and mother. Perhaps it
was because she was such, corresponding’ so perfectly to all the graces of God,
that she was at length enriched with the glorious privilege of martyrdom. From
the time she became a Catholic her life was one great act of love for God.
We get a beautiful
picture of her in the midst of her family. John Clitherow, her husband,
belonged to the established church, though he had a brother a priest. He did
not interfere, however, with her in the practice of her religion; and,
moreover, he permitted her to bring up her children in the Catholic faith, a
sign of the firm character of his wife at a time when a father knew that the
Catholic faith was a handicap for his children. They had three children, two
boys, Henry and William, who became priests later on, and one daughter, Anne,
who became a nun at Saint Ursula’s, Louvain. They were blessed for their
mother’s loyalty to the faith.
The Clitherows had an
abundance of the goods of the world, but that did not make the young wife feel
that she could be an idler. She was an example of the busy housewife who, with
all her cares, could find time for the special service of God. She arose early
every day, and spent an hour and a half, sometimes two hours, on her knees,
praying and meditating. She had a room in her house set aside as a chapel, and
there very often Mass was said by her spiritual director or by one of the missionary
priests who, with a price on their heads, sought a refuge in her house, which
was a centre of Catholicity, a refuge for all the priests who went up and down
the country, looking after the spiritual wants of those who remained true to
the old Church. What a happiness it was to her to harbor the ministers of God,
finding her great reward in the blessing of having the Holy Sacrifice offered
up in her own home! It was like a page from the story of the Catacombs, where
the first Christians worshipped in secret. She was again the Roman matron
presiding over the destinies of a proscribed people.
Mass over, she busied
herself with the management of her household, striving to do the humblest tasks
for the glory of God.
“Now for God’s sake pray
for me,” she used to say to Father Mush, her director, who later wrote the
story of her life and sufferings. “Methinks I do nothing well, because I
overslipped this right intention, which God’s servants should always have
actually, to refer all my doing to His glory.”
Her greatest joy was to
serve the meals to the priests who sought her protection. She had many
servants, but she did not disdain helping them in their work. Many a time did
she spare them, and perform herself the humblest duties of the household,
saying, “God forbid that I should will any to do that in my house which I would
not willingly do myself first.” Nor did she hesitate to correct them when they
needed it. Her confessor, noting this, asked her one day: “How is it that you
dare speak so sharply to these servants, when they are careless in the
performance of their duty? Have you forgotten that they have it in their power
to revenge themselves on you by making it known that priests are concealed in
your house?” j And she would reply: “God defend that, for my Christian liberty
in serving Him in my House, I should neglect my duty to my servants, or not
correct them as they deserve. God shall dispose of all as it pleaseth Him; but
I will not be blamed for their faults, nor fear any danger for this good cause.”
I
The servant problem would
be settled very easily if there were more mistresses like Margaret Clitherow.
This valiant woman knew
all the while that her life was in danger, but the thought did not make her
morose or sad. She was always cheerful, always with a smile on her lips, and
ready to take part in any fun. She reminds us of the dear Saint Elizabeth of
Hungary, who, even while she wore the hair shirt of penance, could take part in
the dance and bring pleasure to others. The only sorrow she had to drive the
smile away was the fear for the life of the priests who left her house to go
forth on their missionary journeys. Many a time, too, she was found weeping
when her house was without a priest to say Mass, thinking that some fault of
hers had made God take from her that grace.
At four o’clock in the
evening, when most of the day’s work was done, she would spend an hour in
prayer with her little ones gathered about her. We can fancy the things she
talked about to them, telling them of the blessings of the faith, relating the
heroism of the martyrs of their own times, and implanting in their souls the
seeds that in later years were to give such abundant harvest. Then at eight or
nine she would seek her spiritual director and get his blessing, after which she
would spend an hour in prayer before retiring. And along with this life of
prayer she practised severe mortification. Perpetually she curbed her appetite.
Four days of the week she kept strict abstinence, and on Monday, Wednesday, and
Saturday took but one meal. On Friday she fasted on bread and water, and
scourged herself with the discipline whenever her confessor permitted her to do
so. Busy as she was, she found time for the reading of pious books, her
favorites being the New Testament, the Imitation of Christ, and Perin’s
Exercise. She even learned by heart the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin in
Latin, saying, “If it please God so to dispose, and that He sets me at liberty
from the world, I will with all my heart take upon me some religious habit, whereby
I may ever serve God under obedience/’ She little guessed in what way God was
to set her at liberty from the world.
Twice a week she
confessed, weeping over the smallest faults; and when she went to Holy
Communion she took her place far from the altar, bowed down with her own
unworthiness, and the tears would stream from her eyes as she received the
Bread of Angels.
Such was the daily life
of this wife and mother, mere like the life of the nun in her cloister away
from the cares of the world. So that I say, even if Margaret Clitherow had not
died the martyr’s death, she would still deserve everlasting remembrance as an
exemplary woman in the world.
But even while she busied
herself in her home and served God lovingly and whole-heartedly, martyrdom was
coming near. Even if she had known that, it would not have frightened her;
rather would it have given her joy, for if there was one thing that this
beautiful, wealthy, happy young wife prayed for, it was that she would be
permitted to suffer death for the sake of Christ. One day she related to her
little daughter, Anne, the story of the martyrdom of Father Lacy, an old priest
who had spent many days under her roof. He had been sentenced to death for high
treason because in his trial he refused to acknowledge the Queen as the Supreme
Head of the Church. “God be forever blessed,” he said; “I am now old, and by
the course of nature cannot expect to live long. This will be no more to me
than to pay the common debt a little before the time.”
“Mother,” said little
Anne, “if you had stood at the bar and been sentenced to death like Father
Lacy, would not you have been frightened and sad?”
But the mother answered:
“Why should I be frightened and sad if I were condemned to die for the Catholic
faith? Methinks I would die any death for so good a cause.”
With Father Lacy there
was martyred another priest, Father Kirkeman, who, too, had enjoyed the
hospitality of the Clitherow home. And when she had finished the story of these
men of God, dragged on a hurdle through the streets and finally hanged at Tyburn,
where criminals were put to death and their poor bodies drawn and quartered,
she cried out, “Oh, children, how glorious a privilege it is to die for Christ!
How sweet would it be to pour out every drop of blood for the Church He came on
earth to found! Happy martyrs! who have merited the favor I, alas, am unworthy
to obtain. From my heart I rejoice and am exceeding glad that these two blessed
priests have suffered and died with courage, patience, and heroic constancy.
Ah! it shall still, as heretofore, be my daily prayer that I may be worthy to
endure whatever may betide for God’s sake and the Catholic faith!”
After the execution of
these two priests in 1582, in the month of August, there followed in a few
months’ time the martyrdom on the same spot of three other priests, Father
James Thompson, Father William Hart, and Father Richard Thirkill, all of whom
had been at one time or another her spiritual directors. It was only natural
then that she, who had such a desire of martyrdom, should feel great devotion
to the place where these her friends had laid down their lives before her.
Tyburn, where stood the gallows, was situated about half a mile outside the
city of York. Very often at night, either alone or with some of her Catholic
neighbors, she would make a pilgrimage to this now hallowed spot, in order to
spend some time in prayer where her priests had shed their blood. Always she
went barefoot, considering the way they had gone to their death holy ground.
Imagine her, if you can, this tender young wife, putting her little ones to
bed, and then, close to midnight, tramping in her bare feet along the sorrowful
way to kneel in the darkness beneath the gallows-tree where in ages gone by the
worst criminals had forfeited their lives in payment for their crimes! It was
an experience to bring terror to a gentle woman, but she thought not of the
awful dreariness, the horror of the place; she thought only that on this spot
men had died for God. So at the foot of the gallows she and her companions
knelt in prayer, not mourning the martyrs, but thanking God for them, and
begging their help for themselves and their families, praying for their poor
country, now gone astray in heresy and crime, and even begging God to grant
them, too, the grace of martyrdom.
In such devotion these
short years went by. All the while the laws for the elimination of the very
name Catholic became more brutal. And, indeed, for a long time these laws had
been severe enough. Elizabeth, as we have said, in order to make her crown more
secure, felt obliged to espouse the Protestant cause, even while, personally,
religion bothered her very little. It was in 1559 that the law took effect –
three years after the birth of Margaret Clitherow – abolishing the old worship
and setting up the new. From that time Catholic worship could be held only in
secret and at the risk of heavy punishment. For the first two years, however,
there was a tendency not to push the law to extremes. Catholics were treated
with comparative leniency; they were fined occasionally, had their goods
confiscated, or were themselves imprisoned. But there was no shedding of blood.
Elizabeth had the idea then that when the old priests died there would be none
to take their place, and consequently the people now remaining Catholics would
gradually come over to the new religion.
But she reckoned not with
the zeal of the Catholic faithful. A seminary was established at Douai, and
here were trained the missionary priests who for so many years, through
suffering and death, were to come in secrecy to England to break the Bread of
Life to the Catholics. Such an action roused the wrath of Elizabeth, and
immediately she increased the severity of the penal laws. Catholics who would
not acknowledge her as the Supreme Head of the Church in England were put to
death as traitors. But in 1581 a man was considered a traitor who absolved or
reconciled others to the See of Rome, or was willingly absolved or reconciled.
And even a person who had harbored a priest was deemed guilty of treason. In
the four months between July 22 and November 27, 1588, twenty-one of these
seminary priests, eleven laymen, and one woman – our own Margaret Clitherow –
were put to death for their religion. The total number of Catholics who
suffered under Elizabeth was one hundred and eighty-nine, of which number one
hundred and twenty-eight were priests, fifty-eight laymen, and three women, the
other women being Margaret Ward and Anne Line, besides thirty-two Franciscans
who were starved to death.
Every one of these
martyrs might well be the subject of a book as well as Margaret Clitherow, but
in telling her story of faith we tell the story of them all. There was none of
them that prayed more earnestly for the gift of martyrdom, and at last her
prayers were answered.
It was not the first time
that a woman’s blood had flowed in these terrible days of the persecution of
the Church. Elizabeth was but carrying out the policy of her bloodthirsty
father. The first woman martyr of that period was the Blessed Margaret Pole,
who was put to death in 1541, in the reign of Henry VIII. She was the daughter
of the Duke of Clarence, and in 1491 had been given by King Henry VII in
marriage to Sir Richard Pole, the son of the half-sister of the King’s mother,
the sainted Margaret Beaufort. Her husband had died in 1505, leaving her a
widow with five children, one of them being Reginald, afterwards Cardinal Pole.
Henry VIII had great admiration for her, and considered her the saintliest
woman in England. He made her Countess of Salisbury, restored her property to
her, chose her as the sponsor for his daughter Mary, and made her governess of
that princess and her household. There was even talk of marrying Mary to
Reginald Pole. At the time of the divorce Reginald did not scruple about coming
out against it, in spite of the bribes that were offered him to side with
Henry. He fled to Rome and was there made cardinal. By his representation of
the case, the excommunication of Henry was hastened. When Henry’s daughter Mary
was pronounced illegitimate so as to favor the issue of Anne Boleyn, Henry
removed the Countess of Salisbury from her position as governess, and she lived
in retirement until the death of Anne, whereupon she returned to court.
But Henry was turning
against the Poles. Soon after the passage of the Act of Supremacy steps were
taken to despoil the smaller monasteries on any pretext. These monasteries were
the only support of the poor, and the only places for education, but they were
suppressed and the monks and nuns thrown out on the street to become beggars.
The people in the North, seeing this, rebelled and, united in an army, thirty
thousand strong, demanded redress for the Church they loved. The government was
frightened at this display of strength, arid promised everything. But as soon
as the army disbanded the hypocritical government turned against those who had
rebelled, and farmers and yeomen were hanged by the hundreds. This v/as so
encouraging to Henry that he determined to strike at the Courtenays and the
Poles, families that were staunch defenders of the Catholic Church. Henry
Courtenay was next in succession to the crown after Henry’s children.
When, in 1530, Cardinal
Pole sent to Henry his defence of the Church, Henry went into a rage. He
determined to be revenged on the Poles and especially on the Countess, whom he
had once so admired. Her eldest son was executed on the evidence given against
him by a younger brother, Sir Geoffrey Pole, and she and others of her
relatives were executed. When the old woman – she was then nearly ninety – was
arrested she said nothing, being so old that she scarcely knew why she was
arrested. She was treated with indignity and was kept a prisoner in the Tower
for two years. And then this noble, saintly old woman, herself a royal
princess, was sent to the block. She walked to her death calmly, her last words
being, “Blessed are they who suffer persecution for righteousness’ sake.”
So that Margaret
Clitherow had, besides the example of her good priestly friends, that of a weak
woman like herself who thought little of the hardships that bring one to God.
It was in 1585, when
Elizabeth had been reigning twenty-seven years, that there was enforced the
statute which made it a crime to give shelter to a seminary priest or a Jesuit,
these men upon whose heads a price had been set. Now not only was the priest to
be put to death, but even the one who harbored him. Some of the neighbors,
knowing that Mrs. Clitherow was accustomed to have priests in her house, came
to her to warn her of the new law that made her charity a crime. Her only
answer was: “If God’s priests dare venture themselves in my house, I will never
refuse them shelter.” She had no fear; in fact, being arrested for her faith
was no new experience to her. Many a time had she been imprisoned, sometimes
for two years at a time, and there were other Catholic wives and mothers who
were persecuted in like manner.
One day she asked the
advice of her confessor as to whether it was right for her to harbor the
priests without asking her husband’s consent; and he assured her that it was
not only her right but her duty. She was overjoyed at the decision.
“But,” said the priest,
merrily, “you must prepare your neck for the hangman’s rope.”
“God’s will be done,”
said she; “but I am most unworthy of that honor.”
But even then there was
about to dawn the day when God would show this woman that she was worthy of the
honor. For a long time the Clitherow house had been marked as a rendezvous for
missionary priests where the Catholic inhabitants of the city might hear Mass
and receive the Sacraments. Even those who had fallen away from the faith knew
that almost at any time a priest might be found in some secret chamber. But, in
spite of all that, she did not become cautious. No doubt her apparent boldness
was merely her confidence in. God, her faith that He would save her house from
harm as long as it was His good will. More than that, she had such a winning
way that even her heretical neighbors could not bring themselves to accuse her
before the law. There were a few, however, so filled with hatred of the old
religion that they watched every opportunity to betray her.
She had two rooms fitted
up where Mass was said, one adjoining her own dwelling and the other at a short
distance from her house. The latter was used only in the very dangerous times,
when her own home was unsafe. Both chapels were beautifully fitted with
religious articles, vestments, etc., so much so that the authorities were
amazed when the discovery was made. It was a proof of her wonderful love for
the altar of God. All that she could spare went to its adornment.
About a year before her
arrest she had induced her husband to send their eldest son, Henry, over to
France, so that he might receive a Catholic education in one of the English
seminaries abroad, an education such as it was impossible to get in England at
the time. This was deemed a crime, and as soon as it became known to the
Council which managed such affairs in the northern part of the kingdom, they
cited John Clitherow to appear before them to be questioned as to his part in
the crime against her Majesty’s statutes.
As soon as he left the
house, two sheriffs of the city, accompanied by other men, came to search his
home. His wife was busy about her duties when they arrived. She was not
surprised at the visit; all these months she had expected it. Her fears were
not for herself, but for the good priest, Father Mush, then in his room talking
with some Catholics who had come to consult him, perhaps to go to confession.
Before admitting the searchers she managed to go to the room to warn her dear
friends, and to hide them in another secret chamber, where they escaped the
spies and so saved their lives. She was calm as she admitted her enemies. They
immediately arrested her, and asked her where she had secreted the traitor-priests,
Mush and Ingleby.
“I shelter no traitors
here,” she answered; “the members of my household are loyal subjects.” But the
searchers proceeded to search the house for the concealed “traitors.” There
were at that time many Catholic children in the house, her own and those of the
neighbors, for she always dearly loved children, being instructed by a
schoolmaster, a loyal Catholic who had been seven years in prison for the
faith. Among them was a little Flemish boy whom she had charitably taken under
her care. The authorities seized him, and threatened him with death unless he
told them all that he knew about the visiting priests and their hiding-places.
The boy, trembling for his life, told everything, and led his captors to the
secret chamber in the house and then to the other chapel at a distance, telling
them, too, the names of the Catholics who from time to time assisted at Mass
there. They gathered together all the vestments and church articles, and
carried them away, leading off as prisoners Mrs. Clitherow, her two children,
and all the servants. The children and servants were sent to different prisons,
but Mrs. Clitherow was brought to the Common Hall to be questioned by the
Council. But, finding the questioning of her useless, they sent her a prisoner
to the Castle.
It was a loathsome place,
that dungeon, filled with dirt and swarming with vermin, its only furniture a
hard pallet, the only food bread and water, which in her love of fasting she
did not touch. Yet in the midst of such squalor she did not grumble, but even
smiled and was joyous, singing hymns, so much so that the jailers were
astounded that any woman in such circumstances could be so brave. Her only
worry was for her husband and children, all in prison, and for the safety of the
priests she had sheltered. Her prayer was that her little ones might not be led
to deny their religion through persecution. And earnest was this prayer as she
knelt through the night upon the cold stone floor, happy to begin her
sufferings for God. Two days later her sister, Mrs. Ann Tesh, was thrown into
the same prison for the crime of hearing Mass, and kept there till her fine of
five hundred marks was paid. Strange to say, it was a joyful time, and the two
sisters, one of them in the shadow of death, laughed and made merry as they
tried to keep up their strength by eating the humble supper of bread and water.
Those who love God can find joy even in affliction, and there were not on earth
happier beings than those two sisters as they laid them down on the hard bed to
sleep the sleep of the just.
It was a beautiful spring
day when Margaret was led from prison to the Common Hall to be placed on trial.
The streets were thronged as she walked along, most of the multitude filled
with sympathy for this mother who bad been torn from her children. She did not
flinch as she faced the Council, though she knew she could expect little
justice from these paid persecutors. She was accused of harboring priests, of
hearing Mass, and of sending her son to be educated in a foreign Catholic
college, and then she was asked to plead guilty or not guilty. Margaret
Clitherow threw back her head and stood erect, a woman of striking beauty.
“I know of no offence,”
she said, “of which I should confess myself guilty.”
Again and again they
tried to persuade her to have a trial by jury, but she refused. She knew that
the only witnesses against her would be her servants and her own children, and
she wished to save them from having any part in her condemnation.
Long did the officials
harass her, insulting her religion, and then, seeing that their urging was of
no avail, they ordered her to a private jail, there to await sentence. It was
night as she was conducted to the jail, but the streets were still crowded as
she passed along, her face beaming with joy while she scattered money to the
poor, now as always the angel of charity.
The next day she was
brought again before the Council. Again they pleaded with her to stand trial.
Again she refused, and the judge, seeing that it was a waste of time to seek to
break her will, pronounced the terrible sentence.
“If you will not stand
your trial,” he said, “this must be your sentence. 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, as much weight laid on you as you are able to
bear, and so continue three days without water, and the third day to be pressed
to death, your hands and feet tied to posts, and a sharp stone under your
back.”
As this terrible sentence
was pronounced, she stood with head uplifted, a smile upon her lips, as she
said, “I thank God heartily for this.”
“Have you no
consideration for your husband and children?” they asked.
“I would to God,” she
said, “my husband and children might suffer with me for so good a cause.”
They bound her hands with
ropes, and sent her back to jail, where the Protestant ministers and the
minions of the law vainly tried to shake her faith. For several days this
situation continued. There was dissension in the Council as to putting her to
death. One of the judges in particular sought to defer action. All humanity was
not dead in him, for Margaret Clitherow was with child, and he dreaded the
wrath of Heaven in putting to death not only the mother, but also her unborn
child. But he was not strong in character, and feared the wrath of the crown if
he let pity persuade him against this awful crime; and so he tried to assuage
his conscience by letting the other judges settle the question. And settle it
they did. Margaret Clitherow was to die.
Meanwhile the condemned
woman was preparing for death. Tranquil and cheerful she was, as if in her own
home instead of the jail. All her time was spent in prayer, fearing that God
might deny her the crown of martyrdom which was so near. She managed to get
word to Father Mush, begging him to pray for her martyrdom, and telling him
that the heaviest cross she had to bear was the fear that she would be set
free. In those last days she longed to see her husband before she died, but
they refused her this consolation unless she would consent to hear a sermon
from one of the Protestant ministers, a condition to which she would not
listen. Her husband meanwhile had been let out of prison, but he was warned to
keep out of the city for some days. When he heard that his wife was condemned
to death, he raved as one mad.
“Alas! alas!” he cried,
“they will kill my poor wife! She has been the best wife and the best Catholic
in the whole country. The Council may have all my goods if they will but spare
her.”
When one of her neighbors
told her this, she said: “May God enlighten him to see the true faith, that so
at least his soul be saved.” She sent to him her hat as a sign of her duty and obedience
to him. At the same time she sent her shoes and stockings to her daughter Anne,
saying, “Tell her they are to remind her to serve God and to practise all
virtues. I trust to God that she will leave this wicked world, so full of
snares for one so young and fair, and consecrate herself to her Divine Spouse
in some fervent community abroad.” Ten years later Anne joined the English
Augustinians at Louvain. Her mother’s prayers were heard.
At last the day of her
martyrdom dawned. It was Good Friday, and also Lady Day, March 25, 1586.
Through the crowds, congregated to see the strange sight of a woman led to
slaughter, surrounded by the officers of the law and by her executioners, she
was led from the private jail where she had been guarded to the tolbooth, or
prison, where she was to lay down her life. Four women attendants unrobed her,
and then put on her a linen garment which she herself had made. She lay down
upon the ground, and a sharp stone was placed under her back. She was calm and
peaceful, her soul rapt in prayer, so that the very light of Heaven shone from
her face. So beautiful was her countenance that the sheriff ordered a
handkerchief to be spread over it, fearing the effect her glorified look would
have upon the spectators, many of whom were Catholics. A heavy door was then
placed upon her, her hands were bound to two posts on either side, and then
every one of the four executioners, at the command of the sheriff, raised a
heavy weight and let it fall forcibly on the door. It was the work of
barbarians, of devils. Her bones were broken, but she made no outcry of pain.
“Jesu! Jesu!” she
pleaded. “Help me, blessed Jesu! I suffer this for Thy sake.”
She still lived. The
sheriff ordered more weights to be thrown upon her. The bones burst through the
skin. She still lived. “Jesu, Jesu, Jesu, have mercy on me!” Those were her
last words, the words of one of the sweetest and gentlest of women, done to
death with unbelievable brutality because she would not be false to her
conscience.
We are told that her body
remained in the press till three o’clock in the afternoon. Then the poor blood-
covered mass was taken out and rolled up roughly in a sheet. At midnight the
executioners buried the body secretly, lest the Catholics might claim her bones
as relics. And they buried it beneath a dung-heap. Some weeks later the
Catholics discovered where the body had been buried, and in the dead of night
rescued it from its ignominious grave and brought it, still incorrupt, to some
point far distant. There, in a grave now unknown, they reverently buried this
noble woman, Margaret Clitherow, the Pearl of York.
There are other stories
of the heroism of womanhood that could be told of these days. Margaret
Clitherow was not the last to suffer. How inspiring is the story of Margaret
Ward! She was companion to a Catholic lady of London, and having heard that a
certain missionary priest, Father William Watson, was in jail and in danger of
perversion, she determined to come to his help. Taking a basket of provisions,
she bribed the jailer’s wife, and so was able to succor the poor priest.
She finally arranged to
help him escape, and got the aid of a young Irishman, John Roche, to further
her plans. The priest escaped, but Roche and Margaret Ward were arrested. Roche
was executed at Tyburn. Margaret was thrown into prison, where she was flogged
and hung up by her wrists, the tips of her toes only touching the ground, for
so long a time that she was crippled and paralyzed. Liberty was offered her if
she would ask the Queen’s pardon and promise to go to the Protestant church.
She declared that she had committed no offence against the Queen. “With regard
to my going to church,” she said, “I have been convinced for many years that it
is not lawful to do so, and I would lay down many lives, if I had them, rather
than act against my conscience or do anything against God and His holy
religion.” And so she was put to death.
Another woman who was
very like Margaret Clitherow was Mrs. Anne Line. She was the widow of a staunch
Catholic who had given up a big estate rather than sacrifice his faith and had
lived abroad until his death. Then she had returned to England, and had been
chosen to manage a house in which priests might find a refuge during the days
of persecution. She was physically weak. “Though I desire above all things to
die for Christ,” she said to Father Gerard, “I dare not hope to die by the hand
of the executioner; but perhaps the Lord will let me be taken in the same house
as a priest, and then be thrown into a chill and filthy dungeon, where I shall
not be able to last out long.”
She was at last arrested
for harboring priests, and asked to plead guilty or not to the charge.
“My lords,” she
exclaimed, “nothing grieves me but that I could not receive a thousand more!”
She was so weak that she
had to be carried to court in a chair. She was condemned. On the day of her
execution, kissing the block with joy, she knelt to pray, and kept on praying
till her head was struck off. This was in February, 1601, fifteen years after
the death of Margaret Clitherow.
What noble women were
they all! But none is quite so appealing as Margaret Clitherow. What a glorious
example is she to the wife and mother! Her heart was filled with love for her
husband and her children. Yet willingly she parted even from these dear ones,
willingly let her home be broken up, willingly let her little flock be
scattered, for the glory of God. When God showed her the way of the Cross and
commanded her to take it, she did not plead that she was a wife and mother,
that her duty was to stay with them, her loved ones that so needed her. No. It
was enough that God called. He had a greater claim even than her little ones.
She would seek first the Kingdom of God and His justice, knowing that a greater
love than hers would come to care for her children when she was gone, even the
love of Him who so loved the little ones.
Blessed the children that
have a mother who loves God even more than she loves them!
– text taken from the
book Great
Wives and Mothers by Father Hugh Francis Blunt, 1917
SOURCE : https://catholicsaints.info/saint-margaret-clitherow-by-father-hugh-francis-blunt/
Saint of the Day – 25
March – Blessed Margaret Clitherow (1556-1586) “The Pearl of York” Martyr
Posted on March
25, 2023
Saint of the Day – 25
March – Blessed Margaret Clitherow (1556-1586) “The Pearl of York”Martyr,
Married Laywoman and Mother of 3. Her 2 sons became Priests and her daughter a
Nun. She was Beatified on 15 December 1929 by Pope Pius XI and Canonised with
the 40 Martyrs of England and Wales. Born in 1556 at York, England as Margaret
Middleton and died by being crushed to death, on Good Friday, 25 March
1586 at their home, No 10-11 The Shambles,York. Also known as – Margaret
Clitheroe, Margaret Middleton, Margarita, Margherita, Marguerite. “The Pearl of
York.” Patronages – the Catholic Women’s League, business-women,
converts, Martyrs, Co-Patron of the English Latin Mass Society which organises
an annual pilgrimage to her Shrine in York . Additional Memorial – 4 May with
the 40 Martyrs.
Margaret was born in
1556, one of five children of Thomas and Jane Middleton. Her father was a
respected businessman, a wax-chandler and Sheriff of York, who died when
Margaret was fourteen years old.
In 1571, she married John
Clitherow, a wealthy butcher and a chamberlain of the City and bore him three
children. The family lived at today’s renowned tourist destination, “The
Shambles” – their business was Nos 35–36, which is now St Margaret’s Shrine..
Margaret converted to
Catholicism in 1574. Although her husband, John belonged to the Established
Church, he was supportive of his wife and of his brother William, who was a
Catholic Priest. He paid the fines Margaret received for not attending the
heretical church services. She was first imprisoned in 1577 for failing to
attend and two further incarcerations at York Castle followed. Her third child,
William, was born in prison!
Margaret risked her life
by harbouring and maintaining Priests which was made a capital offence. She
provided two chambers, one adjoining her house and, with her house under
surveillance, she rented a house some distance away, where she kept Priests
hidden and Mass was celebrated throughout the time of the most violent and
virulent persecution. Her home became one of the most important hiding places
for fugitive Priests in the north of England. Local tradition holds that she
also housed her clerical guests in The Black Swan at Peasholme Green, where the
Queen’s agents were also lodged!
She sent her older son,
Henry, to the English College, relocated to Rheims, to train for the
Priesthood. Her husband was summoned by the authorities to explain why his
oldest son had gone abroad and in March 1586, the Clitherow house was searched.
A frightened boy revealed the location of the Priest hole.
Margaret was arrested and
called before the York Assizes for the crime of harbouring Catholic Priests.
She refused to plead, thereby preventing a trial that would entail her three
children being made to testify and being subjected to torture. She was
sentenced to death. Although pregnant with her fourth child, she was executed
on Lady Day, 1586, (which also happened to be Good Friday that year) in the
Toll Booth at Ouse Bridge, by being crushed to death by her own door, the
standard inducement to force a plea. Upon hearing the sentence, Margaret
exclaimed – “God be thanked, I am not worthy of so good a death as this.”
Before her execution, Margaret was asked to confess her crimes. Instead she confessed, Our Lord Jesus Christ by saying: “I die for the love of my Lord Jesu.” The two Sergeants who should have carried out the execution hired four desperate beggars to do it instead. She was stripped and had a handkerchief tied across her face, then laid across a sharp rock the size of a man’s fist, the door from her own house was put on top of her and loaded with an immense weight of rocks and stones, so that the sharp rock would break her back. Her death occurred within fifteen minutes but her body was left for six hours before the weight was removed.
Margaret’s Shrine is at
35–36 The Shambles. John Clitherow had his butcher’s shop at No 35. My
family and I have been able to visit this Shrine a few times, taking some of
our visitors to venerate St Margaret.
Related
The
Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, St Dismas and the Saints for
25 MarchMarch 25, 2025In "FEASTS and SOLEMNITIES"
The
Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Saturday of the Fourth Week in Lent
and Memorials of the Saints – 25 MarchMarch 25, 2023In "FEASTS
and SOLEMNITIES"
Saint
of the Day – 16 March – Blessed Robert Dalby (Died 1589) Priest MartyrMarch
16, 2024In "SAINT of the DAY"
Author: AnaStpaul
Passionate Catholic.
Being a Catholic is a way of life - a love affair "Religion must be like
the air we breathe..."- St John Bosco Prayer is what the world needs
combined with the example of our lives which testify to the Light of Christ.
This site, which is now using the Traditional Calendar, will mainly concentrate
on Daily Prayers, Novenas and the Memorials and Feast Days of our friends in
Heaven, the Saints who went before us and the great blessings the Church
provides in our Catholic Monthly Devotions. This Site is placed under the
Patronage of my many favourite Saints and especially, St Paul. "For the
Saints are sent to us by God as so many sermons. We do not use them, it is they
who move us and lead us, to where we had not expected to go.” Charles Cardinal
Journet (1891-1975) This site adheres to the pre-Vatican II Catholic Church and
all her teachings. . PLEASE ADVISE ME OF ANY GLARING TYPOS etc - In June 2021 I
lost 100% sight in my left eye and sometimes miss errors. Thank you and I pray
all those who visit here will be abundantly blessed. Pax et bonum! View All Posts
SOURCE : https://anastpaul.com/author/anastpaul/
CANONIZZAZIONE DI
QUARANTA MARTIRI DELL’INGHILTERRA E DEL GALLES
OMELIA DEL SANTO PADRE
PAOLO VI
Domenica, 25 ottobre l970
We extend Our greeting
first of all to Our venerable brother Cardinal John Carmel Heenan, Archbishop
of Westminster, who is present here today. Together with him We greet Our
brother bishops of England and Wales and of all the other countries, those who
have come here for this great ceremony. We extend Our greeting also to the
English priests, religious, students and faithful. We are filled with joy and
happiness to have them near Us today; for us-they represent all English
Catholics scattered throughout the world. Thanks to them we are celebrating Christ’s
glory made manifest in the holy Martyrs, whom We have just canonized, with such
keen and brotherly feelings that We are able to experience in a very special
spiritual way the mystery of the oneness and love of .the Church. We offer you
our greetings, brothers, sons and daughters; We thank you and We bless you.
While We are particularly
pleased to note the presence of the official representative of the Archbishop
of Canterbury, the Reverend Doctor Harry Smythe, We also extend Our respectful
and affectionate greeting to all the members of the Anglican Church who have
likewise come to take part in this ceremony. We indeed feel very close to them.
We would like them to read in Our heart the humility, the gratitude and the
hope with which We welcome them. We wish also to greet the authorities and
those personages who have come here to represent Great Britain, and together
with them all the other representatives of other countries and other religions.
With all Our heart We welcome them, as we celebrate the freedom and the
fortitude of men who had, at the same time, spiritual faith and loyal respect
for the sovereignty of civil society.
STORICO EVENTO PER LA
CHIESA UNIVERSALE
La solenne canonizzazione
dei 40 Martiri dell’Inghilterra e del Galles da Noi or ora compiuta, ci offre
la gradita opportunità di parlarvi, seppur brevemente, sul significato della
loro esistenza e sulla importanza the la loro vita e la loro morte hanno avuto
e continuano ad avere non solo per la Chiesa in Inghilterra e nel Galles, ma
anche per la Chiesa Universale, per ciascuno di noi, e per ogni uomo di buona
volontà.
Il nostro tempo ha
bisogno di Santi, e in special modo dell’esempio di coloro che hanno dato il
supremo testimonio del loro amore per Cristo e la sua Chiesa: «nessuno ha un
amore più grande di colui che dà la vita per i propri amici» (Io. l5, l3).
Queste parole del Divino Maestro, che si riferiscono in prima istanza al
sacrificio che Egli stesso compì sulla croce offrendosi per la salvezza di
tutta l’umanità, valgono pure per la grande ed eletta schiera dei martiri di
tutti i tempi, dalle prime persecuzioni della Chiesa nascente fino a quelle –
forse più nascoste ma non meno crudeli - dei nostri giorni. La Chiesa di Cristo
è nata dal sacrificio di Cristo sulla Croce ed essa continua a crescere e
svilupparsi in virtù dell’amore eroico dei suoi figli più autentici. «Semen est
sanguis christianorum» (TERTULL., Apologet., 50; PL l, 534). Come l’effusione
del sangue di Cristo, così l’oblazione che i martiri fanno della loro vita
diventa in virtù della loro unione col Sacrificio di Cristo una sorgente di
vita e di fertilità spirituale per la Chiesa e per il mondo intero. «Perciò -
ci ricorda la Costituzione Lumen gentium (Lumen gentium, 42) – il martirio, col
quale il discepolo è reso simile al Maestro che liberamente accetta la morte
per la salute del mondo, e a Lui si conforma nell’effusione del sangue, è
stimato dalla Chiesa dono insigne e suprema prova di carità».
Molto si è detto e si è
scritto su quell’essere misterioso che è l’uomo : sulle risorse del suo
ingegno, capace di penetrare nei segreti dell’universo e di assoggettare le
cose materiali utilizzandole ai suoi scopi; sulla grandezza dello spirito umano
che si manifesta nelle ammirevoli opere della scienza e dell’arte; sulla sua
nobiltà e la sua debolezza; sui suoi trionfi e le sue miserie. Ma ciò che
caratterizza l’uomo, ciò che vi è di più intimo nel suo essere e nella sua
personalità, è la capacità di amare, di amare fino in fondo, di donarsi con
quell’amore che è più forte della morte e che si prolunga nell’eternità.
IL SACRIFICIO NELL’AMORE
PIÙ ALTO
Il martirio dei cristiani
è l’espressione ed il segno più sublime di questo amore, non solo perché il
martire rimane fedele al suo amore fino all’effusione del proprio sangue, ma
anche perché questo sacrificio viene compiuto per l’amore più alto e nobile che
possa esistere, ossia per amore di Colui che ci ha creati e redenti, che ci ama
come Egli solo sa amare, e attende da noi una risposta di totale e
incondizionata donazione, cioè un amore degno del nostro Dio.
Nella sua lunga e
gloriosa storia, la Gran Bretagna, isola di santi, ha dato al mondo molti
uomini e donne che hanno amato Dio con questo amore schietto e leale: per
questo siamo lieti di aver potuto annoverare oggi 40 altri figli di questa
nobile terra fra coloro che la Chiesa pubblicamente riconosce come Santi,
proponendoli con ciò alla venerazione dei suoi fedeli, e perché questi
ritraggano dalle loro esistenze un vivido esempio.
A chi legge commosso ed
ammirato gli atti del loro martirio, risulta chiaro, vorremmo dire evidente,
che essi sono i degni emuli dei più grandi martiri dei tempi passati, a motivo
della grande umiltà, intrepidità, semplicità e serenità, con le quali essi
accettarono la loro sentenza e la loro morte, anzi, più ancora con un gaudio
spirituale e con una carità ammirevole e radiosa.
È proprio questo
atteggiamento profondo e spirituale che accomuna ed unisce questi uomini e
donne, i quali d’altronde erano molto diversi fra loro per tutto ciò che può
differenziare un gruppo così folto di persone, ossia l’età e il sesso, la
cultura e l’educazione, lo stato e condizione sociale di vita, il carattere e
il temperamento, le disposizioni naturali e soprannaturali, le esterne
circostanze della loro esistenza. Abbiamo infatti fra i 40 Santi Martiri dei sacerdoti
secolari e regolari, abbiamo dei religiosi di vari Ordini e di rango diverso,
abbiamo dei laici, uomini di nobilissima discendenza come pure di condizione
modesta, abbiamo delle donne che erano sposate e madri di famiglia: ciò che li
unisce tutti è quell’atteggiamento interiore di fedeltà inconcussa alla
chiamata di Dio che chiese a loro, come risposta di amore, il sacrificio della
vita stessa.
E la risposta dei martiri
fu unanime: «Non posso fare a meno di ripetervi che muoio per Dio e a motivo
della mia religione; - così diceva il Santo Philip Evans - e mi ritengo così
felice che se mai potessi avere molte altre vite, sarei dispostissimo a
sacrificarle tutte per una causa tanto nobile».
LEALTÀ E FEDELTÀ
E, come d’altronde
numerosi altri, il Santo Philip Howard conte di Arundel asseriva egli pure: «Mi
rincresce di avere soltanto una vita da offrire per questa nobile causa». E la
Santa Margaret Clitherow con una commovente semplicità espresse sinteticamente
il senso della sua vita e della sua morte: «Muoio per amore del mio Signore
Gesù». « Che piccola cosa è questa, se confrontata con la morte ben più crudele
che Cristo ha sofferto per me », così esclamava il Santo Alban Roe.
Come molti loro
connazionali che morirono in circostanze analoghe, questi quaranta uomini e
donne dell’Inghilterra e del Galles volevano essere e furono fino in fondo
leali verso la loro patria che essi amavano con tutto il cuore; essi volevano
essere e furono di fatto fedeli sudditi del potere reale che tutti - senza eccezione
alcuna - riconobbero, fino alla loro morte, come legittimo in tutto ciò che
appartiene all’ordine civile e politico. Ma fu proprio questo il dramma
dell’esistenza di questi Martiri, e cioè che la loro onesta e sincera lealtà
verso l’autorità civile venne a trovarsi in contrasto con la fedeltà verso Dio
e con ciò che, secondo i dettami della loro coscienza illuminata dalla fede
cattolica, sapevano coinvolgere le verità rivelate, specialmente sulla S.
Eucaristia e sulle inalienabili prerogative del successore di Pietro, che, per
volere di Dio, è il Pastore universale della Chiesa di Cristo. Posti dinanzi
alla scelta di rimanere saldi nella loro fede e quindi di morire per essa,
ovvero di aver salva la vita rinnegando la prima, essi, senza un attimo di esitazione,
e con una forza veramente soprannaturale, si schierarono dalla parte di Dio e
gioiosamente affrontarono il martirio. Ma talmente grande era il loro spirito,
talmente nobili erano i loro sentimenti, talmente cristiana era l’ispirazione
della loro esistenza, che molti di essi morirono pregando per la loro patria
tanto amata, per il Re o per la Regina, e persino per coloro che erano stati i
diretti responsabili della loro cattura, dei loro tormenti, e delle circostanze
ignominiose della loro morte atroce.
Le ultime parole e
l’ultima preghiera del Santo John Plessington furono appunto queste: «Dio
benedica il Re e la sua famiglia e voglia concedere a Sua Maestà un prospero
regno in questa vita e una corona di gloria nell’altra. Dio conceda pace ai suoi
sudditi consentendo loro di vivere e di morire nella vera fede, nella speranza
e nella carità».
«POSSANO TUTTI OTTENERE
LA SALVEZZA»
Così il Santo Alban Roe,
poco prima dell’impiccagione, pregò: «Perdona, o mio Dio, le mie innumerevoli
offese, come io perdono i miei persecutori», e, come lui, il Santo Thomas
Garnet che - dopo aver singolarmente nominato e perdonato coloro che lo avevano
tradito, arrestato e condannato - supplicò Dio dicendo: «Possano tutti ottenere
la salvezza e con me raggiungere il cielo».
Leggendo gli atti del
loro martirio e meditando il ricco materiale raccolto con tanta cura sulle
circostanze storiche della loro vita e del loro martirio, rimaniamo colpiti
soprattutto da ciò che inequivocabilmente e luminosamente rifulge nella loro
esistenza; esso, per la sua stessa natura, è tale da trascendere i secoli, e
quindi da rimanere sempre pienamente attuale e, specie ai nostri giorni, di
importanza capitale. Ci riferiamo al fatto che questi eroici figli e figlie
dell’Inghilterra e del Galles presero la loro fede veramente sul serio: ciò
significa che essi l’accettarono come l’unica norma della loro vita e di tutta
la loro condotta, ritraendone una grande serenità ed una profonda gioia
spirituale. Con una freschezza e spontaneità non priva di quel prezioso dono
che è l’umore tipicamente proprio della loro gente, con un attaccamento al loro
dovere schivo da ogni ostentazione, e con la schiettezza tipica di coloro che
vivono con convinzioni profonde e ben radicate, questi Santi Martiri sono un
esempio raggiante del cristiano che veramente vive la sua consacrazione
battesimale, cresce in quella vita che nel sacramento dell’iniziazione gli è
stata data e che quello della confermazione ha rinvigorito, in modo tale che la
religione non è per lui un fattore marginale, bensì l’essenza stessa di tutto
il suo essere ed agire, facendo sì che la carità divina diviene la forza
ispiratrice, fattiva ed operante di una esistenza, tutta protesa verso l’unione
di amore con Dio e con tutti gli uomini di buona volontà, che troverà la sua
pienezza nell’eternità.
La Chiesa e il mondo di
oggi hanno sommamente bisogno di tali uomini e donne, di ogni condizione me
stato di vita, sacerdoti, religiosi e laici, perché solo persone di tale
statura e di tale santità saranno capaci di cambiare il nostro mondo tormentato
e di ridargli, insieme alla pace, quell’orientamento spirituale e veramente
cristiano a cui ogni uomo intimamente anela - anche talvolta senza esserne
conscio - e di cui tutti abbiamo tanto bisogno.
Salga a Dio la nostra
gratitudine per aver voluto, nella sua provvida bontà, suscitare questi Santi
Martiri, l’operosità e il sacrificio dei quali hanno contribuito alla
conservazione della fede cattolica nell’Inghilterra e nel Galles.
Continui il Signore a
suscitare nella Chiesa dei laici, religiosi e sacerdoti che siano degni emuli
di questi araldi della fede.
Voglia Dio, nel suo
amore, che anche oggi fioriscano e si sviluppino dei centri di studio, di
formazione e di preghiera, atti, nelle condizioni di oggi, a preparare dei
santi sacerdoti e missionari quali furono, in quei tempi, i Venerabili Collegi
di Roma e Valladolid e i gloriosi Seminari di St. Omer e Douai, dalle file dei
quali uscirono appunto molti dei Quaranta Martiri, perché come uno di essi, una
grande personalità, il Santo Edmondo Campion, diceva: «Questa Chiesa non si
indebolirà mai fino a quando vi saranno sacerdoti e pastori ad attendere al
loro gregge».
Voglia il Signore
concederci la grazia che in questi tempi di indifferentismo religioso e di
materialismo teorico e pratico sempre più imperversante, l’esempio e la
intercessione dei Santi Quaranta Martiri ci confortino nella fede, rinsaldino
il nostro autentico amore per Dio, per la sua Chiesa e per gli uomini tutti.
PER L’UNITA DEI CRISTIANI
May the blood of these
Martyrs be able to heal the great wound inflicted upon God’s Church by reason
of the separation of the Anglican Church from the Catholic Church. Is it not
one-these Martyrs say to us-the Church founded by Christ? Is not this their
witness? Their devotion to their nation gives us the assurance that on the day
when-God willing-the unity of the faith and of Christian life is restored, no
offence will be inflicted on the honour and sovereignty of a great country such
as England. There will be no seeking to lessen the legitimate prestige and the
worthy patrimony of piety and usage proper to the Anglican Church when the
Roman Catholic Church-this humble “Servant of the Servants of God”- is able to
embrace her ever beloved Sister in the one authentic communion of the family of
Christ: a communion of origin and of faith, a communion of priesthood and of
rule, a communion of the Saints in the freedom and love of the Spirit of Jesus.
Perhaps We shall have to
go on, waiting and watching in prayer, in order to deserve that blessed day.
But already We are strengthened in this hope by the heavenly friendship of the
Forty Martyrs of England and Wales who are canonized today. Amen.
SOURCE : http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/paul_vi/homilies/1970/documents/hf_p-vi_hom_19701025_it.html
St. Margaret Clitherow, zeitgenössischer Stecher, um 1750, nach älterer Darstellung
Santa Margherita
Clitherow Martire in Inghilterra
Festa: 25 marzo
>>> Visualizza la
Scheda del Gruppo cui appartiene
York, Inghilterra,
1550/1556 - Tyburn, York, 25 marzo 1586
La storia narra le
persecuzioni anticattoliche in Inghilterra tra il 1535 e il 1681, scatenate da
Enrico VIII e subite da migliaia di fedeli, tra cui Margherita Clitherow.
Convertita al cattolicesimo durante il regno di Elisabetta I, Margherita
ospitava sacerdoti clandestini e fu imprigionata diverse volte. Nel 1586, dopo
la perquisizione della sua casa e il ritrovamento di arredi sacri, fu
processata e condannata a morte per non aver abiurato la sua fede. Il 25 marzo
1586 subì il martirio: schiacciata a morte con una porta di legno e pesi.
Beatificata nel 1929 e canonizzata nel 1970.
Emblema: Palma
Martirologio
Romano: A York in Inghilterra, santa Margherita Clitherow, martire, che,
con il consenso del coniuge, aderì alla fede cattolica, nella quale educò anche
i figli e si adoperò per nascondere in casa i sacerdoti ricercati; per questo
motivo fu più volte arrestata durante il regno di Elisabetta I e, rifiutandosi
di trattare la sua causa davanti al tribunale per non gravare l’animo dei
consiglieri del giudice con il fardello di una condanna a morte, fu schiacciata
a morte per Cristo sotto un enorme peso.
La storia delle persecuzioni anticattoliche in Inghilterra, Scozia, Galles, parte dal 1535 e arriva al 1681; il primo a scatenarla fu come è noto il re Enrico VIII, che provocò lo scisma d’Inghilterra con il distacco della Chiesa Anglicana da Roma.
Artefici più o meno cruenti furono oltre Enrico VIII, i suoi successori Edoardo VI (1547-1553), la terribile Elisabetta I, la ‘regina vergine’ († 1603), Giacomo I Stuart, Carlo I, Oliviero Cromwell, Carlo II Stuart.
Morirono in 150 anni di persecuzioni, migliaia di cattolici inglesi appartenenti ad ogni ramo sociale, testimoniando il loro attaccamento alla fede cattolica e al papa e rifiutando i giuramenti di fedeltà al re, nuovo capo della religione di Stato.
Primi a morire come gloriosi martiri, il 4 maggio e il 15 giugno 1535, furono 19 monaci Certosini, impiccati nel tristemente famoso Tyburn di Londra, l’ultima vittima fu l’arcivescovo di Armagh e primate d’Irlanda Oliviero Plunkett, giustiziato a Londra l’11 luglio 1681.
L’odio dei vari nemici del cattolicesimo, dai re ai puritani, dagli avventurieri agli spregevoli ecclesiastici eretici e scismatici, ai calvinisti, portò ad inventare efferati sistemi di tortura e sofferenze per i cattolici arrestati.
In particolare per tutti quei sacerdoti e gesuiti, che dalla Francia e da Roma, arrivavano clandestinamente come missionari in Inghilterra per cercare di riconvertire gli scismatici, per lo più essi erano considerati traditori dello Stato, in quanto inglesi rifugiatosi all’estero e preparati in opportuni Seminari per il rientro.
Tranne rarissime eccezioni come i funzionari di alto rango (Tommaso Moro, Giovanni Fisher, Margherita Pole) decapitati o uccisi velocemente, tutti gli altri subirono prima della morte, indicibili sofferenze, con interrogatori estenuanti, carcere duro, torture raffinate come “l’eculeo”, la “figlia della Scavinger”, i “guanti di ferro” e dove alla fine li attendeva una morte orribile; infatti essi venivano tutti impiccati, ma qualche attimo prima del soffocamento venivano liberati dal cappio e ancora semicoscienti venivano sventrati.
Dopo di ciò con una bestialità che superava ogni limite umano, i loro corpi venivano squartati ed i poveri tronconi cosparsi di pece, erano appesi alle porte e nelle zone principali della città.
Solo nel 1850 con la restaurazione della Gerarchia Cattolica in Inghilterra e Galles, si poté affrontare la possibilità di una beatificazione dei martiri, perlomeno di quelli il cui martirio era comprovato, nonostante i due-tre secoli trascorsi.
Nel 1874 l’arcivescovo di Westminster inviò a Roma un elenco di 360 nomi con le prove per ognuno di loro.
A partire dal 1886 i martiri a gruppi più o meno numerosi, furono beatificati
dai Sommi Pontefici, una quarantina sono stati anche canonizzati nel 1970.
Margherita Clitherow nacque a York tra il 1550 e il 1556 da Tommaso Middleton e
crebbe educata al protestantesimo, ritenendo che questa fosse la vera fede in
Cristo.
Contrasse il matrimonio nel 1571 con Giovanni Clitherow protestante, dopo circa tre anni turbata dalla essenza della dottrina protestante e dalla leggerezza dei suoi ministri, prese a studiare i principi cattolici e si convertì.
Il marito rimasto sempre un protestante, non si oppose lasciandola libera di educare anche i figli nella stessa fede cattolica. Si era al tempo della sanguinaria regina Elisabetta I (1533-1603) salita al trono nel 1558, che aveva ripristinato con mano energica l’anglicanesimo nel regno.
Margherita Clitherow nata Middleton, per la sua conversione, che non era passata inosservata, finì spesso nel mirino dei fedeli alla regina, il suo nome già nel 1576 compare nella lista dei prigionieri, accusata di “trascurare i suoi doveri verso Dio e la regina e di non voler partecipare al servizio divino nella chiesa protestante”.
Subì il carcere varie volte, anche per due anni e più, ma per lei la prigionia costituiva un periodo di riflessione e di una devota conversazione con Dio.
Quando era libera a casa, oltre che pregare con intensità insieme ai figli, provvedeva ad ospitare, di nascosto perché era proibito, i sacerdoti di passaggio in una stanza segreta, lieta di fare qualcosa per la Chiesa perseguitata di quel tremendo periodo. Approfittava della permanenza dei sacerdoti per confessarsi, ricevere i Sacramenti e ascoltare la S. Messa.
Dopo un periodo di libertà di diciotto mesi, il 10 marzo 1586 la sua casa fu perquisita da un drappello di sbirri; Margherita Clitherow fece appena in tempo a nascondere un sacerdote in un ripostiglio segreto sotto il pavimento, non trovando niente di compromettente gli sbirri presero a malmenare uno dei servi, un atterrito ragazzo di dieci anni, il quale alla fine indicò il nascondiglio.
Il sacerdote era già scappato, ma nel vano furono trovati abiti ecclesiastici e arredi sacri, pertanto Margherita fu arrestata e trascinata in prigione insieme ai figli e servi, questi ultimi dopo alcuni giorni furono liberati, mentre lei fu rinchiusa nel carcere oscuro del castello di York.
Fu sottoposta ad interrogatorio e processata dal tribunale con l’accusa di aver nascosto dei sacerdoti, anche se non si era trovato nessuno e di aver ascoltato la Messa come provavano gli arredi sequestrati, invitata a dichiararsi colpevole o innocente, Margherita eluse la domanda per tutte le udienze successive, dicendo: “Non ho commesso nulla di male per cui dichiararmi colpevole”.
Rifiutando così il verdetto di una giuria, secondo il pensiero di molti martiri dell’epoca, che così facendo non coinvolgevano i giurati nel pronunciare una sentenza, che data la legge vigente era di condanna a morte, lasciando la responsabilità di pronunciarsi al solo giudice.
La sentenza fu della pena capitale e ascoltatala Margherita disse: “Se questa sentenza è di condanna conforme alla vostra coscienza, prego Dio che ve ne riserbi una migliore dinanzi al suo tribunale”.
Il mattino del 25 marzo 1586, nei sotterranei della prigione fu spogliata dei suoi vestiti e dopo aver indossato un abito bianco da lei stessa preparato, fu stesa al suolo legata con le mani e i piedi a dei pioli; poi sotto la schiena fu posta una pietra aguzza e sul corpo una porta di legno sulla quale furono ammassati grossi pesi fino a schiacciarla mortalmente.
Il martirio durò in tutto una quindicina di minuti, poi il corpo della martire fu gettato in una fossa di acqua putrida e melmosa; per sei settimane i cattolici fecero ricerche del suo corpo, ritrovandolo alfine ancora incorrotto fresco e puro come il giorno della morte.
Dei tre figli, Agnese si fece suora a Lovanio e i due maschi divennero sacerdoti.
Margherita Clitherow fu beatificata il 15 dicembre 1929 da Pio XI e canonizzata da papa Paolo VI il 25 ottobre 1970 insieme a 40 martiri dell’epoca.
Autore: Antonio Borrelli
