On the third day the warder came to my room straight from his dinner. Looking sorry for himself, he said the Lords Commissioners had arrived with the Queen’s Attorney-General and that I had to go down to them at once.
‘I am ready,’ I said, ‘but just let me say an Our Father and Hail Mary downstairs.’
He let me go, and then we went off together to the Lieutenant’s lodgings inside the walls of the Tower. Five men were there waiting for me, none of whom, except Wade, had examined me before. He was there to direct the charges against me.
The Attorney-General took out a sheet of paper and solemnly began to write out a form of juridical examination. They put no questions about individual Catholics—they were all about political matters—and I answered on the general lines I had always done before. I said that matters of state were forbidden to Jesuits and consequently I never had anything to do with them; if they wanted confirmation they had it. I had been in prison now three years and had been examined time and time again, and they had not produced a scrap of writing or a single trustworthy witness to show that I had taken part in any activities against the Government.
Then they asked me about the letters I had recently received from our Fathers abroad; and I realized for the first time why I had been removed to the Tower. I answered, ‘If I have ever received any letters from abroad at any time, they have had nothing to do with politics. They were concerned merely with the financial assistance of Catholics living on the Continent.’
‘Didn’t you receive a packet a short time ago,’ said Wade, ‘and hand it over to so and so to give to Henry Garnet?’
‘If I have received any such packet and forwarded it, I did what I was bound to do. But, I repeat, the only letters I have received or forwarded are those, as I have said, dealing with the dispatch of money to religious and students on the Continent.’
‘Very well,’ they said, ‘then tell us the name of the man you gave the letters to, and where he lives.’
‘I don’t know, and even if I did, I could not and would not tell you,’ and I gave them the usual reasons for this answer.
‘You say,’ said the Attorney-General, ‘you have no wish to obstruct the Government. Tell us, then, where Father Garnet is. He is an enemy of the state, and you are bound to report on all such men.’
‘He isn’t an enemy of the state,’ I said. ‘On the contrary, I am certain that if he were given the opportunity to lay down his life for his Queen and country, he would be glad of it. But I don’t know where he lives, and if I did, I would not tell you.’
‘Then we’ll see to it that you tell us before we leave this place.’
‘Please God, you won’t,’ I answered.
Then they produced a warrant for putting me to torture. They had it ready by them and handed it to me to read. (In this prison a special warrant is required for torture.)
I saw that the warrant was properly made out and signed, and then I answered, ‘With God’s help I shall never do anything that is unjust or act against my conscience or the Catholic faith. You have me in your power. You can do with me what God allows you to do—more you cannot do.’
Then they began to implore me not to force them to take steps they were loath to take. They said they would have to put me to the torture every day, as long as my life lasted, until I gave them the information they wanted.
‘I trust in God’s goodness,’ I answered, ‘that He will prevent me from ever committing a sin such as this—the sin of accusing innocent people. We are all in God’s hands and therefore I have no fear of anything you can do to me.’
This was the sense of my answers, as far as I can recall them now.
We went to the torture room in a kind of solemn procession, the attendants walking ahead with lighted candles.
The chamber was underground and dark, particularly near the entrance. It was a vast place and every device and instrument of human torture was there. They pointed out some of them to me and said that I would try them all. Then they asked me again whether I would confess.
‘I cannot,’ I said.
I fell on my knees for a moment’s prayer. Then they took me to a big upright pillar, one of the wooden posts which held the roof of this huge underground chamber. Driven in to the top of it were iron staples for supporting heavy weights. Then they put my wrists into iron gauntlets and ordered me to climb two or three wicker steps. My arms were then lifted up and an iron bar was passed through the rings of one gauntlet, then through the staple and rings of the second gauntlet. This done, they fastened the bar with a pin to prevent it slipping, and then, removing the wicker steps one by one from under my feet, they left me hanging by my hands and arms fastened above my head. The tips of my toes, however, still touched the ground, and they had to dig away the earth from under them. They had hung me up from the highest staple in the pillar and could not raise me any higher, without driving in another staple.
Hanging like this I began to pray. The gentlemen standing around asked me whether I was willing to confess now.
'I cannot and I will not,' I answered.
But I could hardly utter the words, such a gripping pain came over me. It was worst in my chest and belly, my hands and arms. All the blood in my body seemed to rush up into my arms and hands and I thought that blood was oozing out from the ends o fmy fingers and the pores of my skin. But it was only a sensation caused by my flesh swelling above the irons holding them. The pain was so intense that I thought I could not possibly endure it, and added to it, I had an interior temptation. yet I did not fel any inclination or wish to give them the information they wanted. The Lord saw my weakness with the eyes of His mercy, and did not permit me to be tempted beyond my strength. With the temptation He sent me relief. Seeing my agony and the struggle going on in my mind, He gave me this most merciful thought: the utmost and worst they can do to you is to kill you, and you have often wanted to give your life for your Lord God. The Lord God sees all you are enduring--He can do all things. You are in God's keeping. With these thoughts, God in His infinite goodness an dmercy gave me the grace of resignation, and, with a desire to die and a hope (I admit) that I would, I offered Him myself to do with me as He wished. From that moment the conflict in my soul ceased, and even the physical pain seemed much more bearable than before, though I am sure it must, in fact, have been greater with the growing strain and weariness of my body.
When the gentlemen present saw that I was not answering their questions, they went off to the Lieutenant's house, and stayed there. Every now and again they sent to find out how things were going with me.
Three or four robust men remained behind to watch and supervise the torture, and also my warder. He stayed, I think, out of kindness, for every few minutes he took a cloth and wiped the perspiration that ran in drops continuously down my face and whole body. That helped me a little, but he added to my sufferings when he started to talk. He went on and on, begging and imploring me to pity myself and tell the gentlemen what they wanted to know. And he urged so many human reasons for this that I thought that the devil instigated him to feign this affection or that my torturers had left him behind on purpose to trick me. But I felt all these suggestions of the enemy like blows in the distance: they did not seem to touch my soul or affect me in any way. More than once I interrupted him, 'Stop this talk, for heaven's sake. Do you think I'm going to throw my soul away to save my life? You exasperate me.'
But he went on. And several times the others joined in.
'You will be a cripple all your life if you live. And you are going to be tortured every day until you confess.'
But I prayed in a low voice as well as I could, calling on the names of Jesus and Mary.
Some time after one o'clock, I think, I fell into a faint. How long I was unconscious I don't know, but I don't think it was long, for the men held my body up or put the wicker steps under myfeet until I came to. Then they heard me pray and immediately they let me down again. And they did this every time I fainted--eight or nine times that day--before it struck five.
After four or before five o'clock Wade returned. Coming to me he asked, 'Are you ready now to obey the Queen and her Council?'
I answered, 'You want me to do what is sinful. I will not do it.'
'All you have to say,' said Wade, 'is that you wish to speak to Cecil, Her Majesty's Secretary.'
'I have nothing to say to him,' I said, 'except what I have said to you already. If I asked to speak to him, people would be scandalized. They would think I had given way, that at last I was going to say something that I should not say.'
In a rage he suddenly turned his back on me and strode out of the room, shouting angrily in a loud voice, 'Then hang there until you rot off the pillar.'
He left. And I think all the Commissioners left the Towre then, for at five o'clock the Tower bell is rung, a signal for all to leave unless they want to have the gates locked on them. A little later the took me down. My legs and feet were not damaged, but it was a great effort to stand upright. They led me back to my cell. On the way we met some prisoners who had the run of the Tower, and I turned to speak to my warder, intending them to overhear.
'What surprises me,' I said, 'is that the Commissioners want me to say where Father GArnet's house is. Surely they know it is a sin to betray an innocent man? I will never do it, even if I have to die.'
I said this to prevent them spreading a report, as theyh so often do, that I had confessed something. And I also wanted word to get round through these men that it was chiefly concerning Father Garnet that I had been questioned, so that he might get to hear and look to his own safety. I saw that the warder was not pleased at my talking in their hearing, but that made no difference to me.
When I reached my cell the man seemed really sorry for me. He laid a fire and brought me some food, as it was now nearly supper time. But I coud eat only a little; and I lay down on my bed and rested quietly unti the morning.
In the morning after the gates of the Tower were opened, my warder came up to say that Wade had arrived and that I had to go down and see him. I put on a cloak with wide sleeves--I could not get my swollen hands through the sleeves of my own gown--and I went down.
When I entered the Lieutenant's house, Wade said to me, 'I have been sent her in the name of the Queen and her Secretary, Cecil. They say they know for certain that Garnet meddles in politics and is a danger to the State. And thi the Queen asserts on the word of a Sovereign and Cecil onhis honour. Unless you choose to contradict them both, you must agree to hand him over.'
'They cannot be speaking from experience,' I answered, 'or from any reliable information; they don't know the man. I have lived with him and know him well, and I can say for certain that he is not that kind of man.'
'Come,' said Wade, 'why not admit the truth and answer our questions?'
'I cannot,' I said, 'and I will not.'
'It owuld be better for you if you did,' and saying this he called out to a gentleman waiting in the next room. He was a well-built man whom Wade called 'Master of Torture'. I knew such an officer existed, but I found out later that this was not the man. He was Master of the Artillery. Wade gave him this title to terrorize me.
'By order of the Queen and Council,' he addressed this gentleman, 'I hand this man over to you. you are to torture him twice today and twice every day until he confesses.'
The man took charge of me. Wade left. In the same way as before we went to the torture chamber.
The gauntlets were placed on the same part of my arms as last time. They would not fit anywhere else, because the flesh on either side had swollen into small mounds, leaving a furrow between; and the gauntlets could only be fastened in the furrow. I felt a very sharp pain when they were put on.
But God helped me and I gladly offered Him my hands an dmy heart. I was hung up in the same way as before, but now I felt a much severer pain in y hands but less in my chest and belly. Possibly this was because I had eaten nothing that morning.
I stayed like this and began to pray, sometimes aloud, sometimes to myself, and I put myself in the keeping of Our Lord Jesus and His blessed Mother. This time it was longer before I fainted, but when I did they found it so difficult to bring me round that they thought that I was dead, or certainly dying, and summoned the Lieutenant. I don't know how long he was there or howlong I remained in a faint. But when I came to myself, I was no longer hanging but sitting on a bench with men supportin me on either side. There were many people about, and my teeth had been forced open with a nail or some iron instrument and hot water had been poured down my throat.
When the Lieutenant saw that I could speak he said, 'Don't you see how much better for you it would be if you submitted to the Queen instead of dying like this?'
God helped me and I was able to put more spirit into my answer than I had felt up to now.
'No, no I don't!' I said. 'I woul dprefer to die a thousand times rather than do as they suggest.'
'So you won't confess, then?'
'No, I won't' I said. 'And I won't as long as there is breath left in my body.'
'Very well, then, we must hang you up again now, and a second time after dinner.'
He spoke as though he were sorry to have to carry out his orders.
'Eamus in nomine Domini,' I said. 'I have only one life, but if I had several I would sacrifice them all for the same cause.'
I struggled to my feet and tried to walk over to the pillar but I had to be helped. I was very weak now and if I had any spirit left in me it was given by God and given to me, although most unworthy, because I shared the fellowship of the Society.
I was hung up again. The pain was intense now, but I felt great consolation of soul, which seemed to me to come from a desire of death. Whether it arose from a true love of Christ, God knows best. But I though then that I was going to die. And my heart filled with great gladness as I abandoned myself to His will and keeping and condemned the will of men. Oh! that God woul dgrant me the same spirit always, though I am sure that in His eyes it was far froma perfect spirit, for my life was to be longer than I then thought, and God gave me time to make it more perfect in His sight, since, it seems, I was not then ready.
Perhaps the Governer of the Tower realized he woul dgain nothing by torturing me any longer; perhaps it was his dinner hour or maybe he was moved with genuine pity for me; whatever the reason, he ordered me to be taken down. It seemed that I had been hanging only an hour in this second period today. Personally, I believe he was moved by compassion, for some time after my escape a gentleman of position told me he had heard Sir Richard Berkeley, this same Lieutenant, say that he had freely resigned his office because he no longer wished to be an instrument in such torture of innocent men. At all events it is a fact that he did resign, an donly three or four months after his appointment. His place was taken by another knight and it was under him that I escaped.
My warder brought me back to my room. His eyes seemed swollen with tears. He assured me that his wife, whom I had never seen, had wept and prayed for me all the time.
He brought me some food. I could eat but little, and the little I did eat he had to cut up into small pieces. For many days after I could not hold a knife in my hands--that day I could not even move my fingers or help myself in the smallest way. He had to do everything for me. But in spite of this on orders from the authorities he took away my knife, scissors and razors. I thought they must be afraid that I woul dattempt suicide, but I later learned that they always do this in the Tower when a prisoner is under warrant for torture.
Gerard escaped from the Tower six months later by swinging over Tower Ditch on a rope, and became one of the Gunpowder Plotters. For the last ten years of his life he was Director of the English College in Rome.
Source: Father John Gerard. “The Torturing of a Jesuit Priest in the Tower of London, 14-15 April 1597.” In England: the Autobiography. Ed. John Lewis-Stempel. Penguin Books, New York: 2006. 131-8.
