Brachy-Martyrologia Or, A Brewery of all the greatest Persecutions Which have befallen the Saints and People of God From the Creation to our present Times: Paraphras'd, By Nicholas Billingsly |
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SECT. XX. The Persecution of the Waldenses, which began Anno Christi 1160.
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 | Brachy-Martyrologia |  |
SECT. XX. The Persecution of the Waldenses, which began Anno Christi 1160.
When the black cloak of Popery was hurl'd
Upon the shoulders of the christian world,
The saints still labour'd to dispel away
Those shades Cimmerian, and reveal the day
With truth's bright lustre; and withall devest
The Roman glory. One among the rest,
A learn'd and godly man at Lions, whose name
Was Peter Valdo, much oppos'd the same;
Declaring plainly Transubstantiation
To be no better then an Innovation:
He mov'd the cred'lous people to embrace
The precious offers of the means of grace,
They which unto his Doctrine gave respect,
From him were called the Waldensian Sect:
Which like a Snow-ball rowling down a hill,
Decreased nothing, but increased still.
Though ev'ry day and hour the Martyrs bleed,
Yet is the Martyrs blood the Churches seed.
This her'sy in a thousand Citys swarme,
Maintaining seventy thousand men of arms:
Nor could the popish Canons, Constitutions,
Curses, Decrees, alter their resolutions:
To suffer wrong, in body, goods, or name,
For Christ his sake, was counted not a shame.
Valdo yet still proceeds (nor can he hope
Long life) to publish to the world, the Pope
Is Antichrist; the Mass abominable;
The Host an Idol; Purgator'a fable.
Pope Innocent the third, did authorize
Monkish Inquisitors for to surprize
These Her'oicks (as he call'd them) by process,
That so the sec'lar power might them suppress,
Is any rich, the inquis'tors had a trick
To make him poor, Oh he's an Heretick,
Let him have such a death; no power controul'd
Or curb'd them in; but what they would, they would.
If any, water, or a pad of straw,
Gave to the Saints, he was condemn'd by law.
If any advocate, assaid to plead
His kinsmans cause an Action indeed!
And if an Heir, his father that way leans,
And that's enough to rob him of his means.
Nay, for to keep the people in more aw,
They prisoners do in their processions draw
Triumphantly; injoyning them to vex
And scourge themselves; with ropes about their necks,
A torch in either hand, others along
Must pass to terrify the gazing throng.
Besides all these, they have a thousand Querks;
They send cut some to fight against the Turks
And Infidels; (no need to seek for heires)
Their houses, goods, and chattels, all are theirs.
At their return, if any ask'd their wives
VVho lay with them? They 'ndangered their lives.
The foes confess'd, they had not wherewithall
To build up prisons for th' accused all:
And yet for all this persecution, there
Above eight hundred thousand Christians were.
The faith encreas'd, and with a prosp'rous gale
Clim'd o're the Alps came to Pragela's vale;
From thence the people bordered upon
St. Martin, Piedmont, La Perouse Angrogne.
Wander there did innumerable flocks
Upon the craggy cliffs, and algid rocks.
Above three thousand being hid in caves,
VVere stifled by these marble-hearted slaves.
Upon the shoulders of the christian world,
The saints still labour'd to dispel away
Those shades Cimmerian, and reveal the day
With truth's bright lustre; and withall devest
The Roman glory. One among the rest,
A learn'd and godly man at Lions, whose name
Was Peter Valdo, much oppos'd the same;
Declaring plainly Transubstantiation
To be no better then an Innovation:
He mov'd the cred'lous people to embrace
The precious offers of the means of grace,
They which unto his Doctrine gave respect,
From him were called the Waldensian Sect:
65
Decreased nothing, but increased still.
Though ev'ry day and hour the Martyrs bleed,
Yet is the Martyrs blood the Churches seed.
This her'sy in a thousand Citys swarme,
Maintaining seventy thousand men of arms:
Nor could the popish Canons, Constitutions,
Curses, Decrees, alter their resolutions:
To suffer wrong, in body, goods, or name,
For Christ his sake, was counted not a shame.
Valdo yet still proceeds (nor can he hope
Long life) to publish to the world, the Pope
Is Antichrist; the Mass abominable;
The Host an Idol; Purgator'a fable.
Pope Innocent the third, did authorize
Monkish Inquisitors for to surprize
These Her'oicks (as he call'd them) by process,
That so the sec'lar power might them suppress,
Is any rich, the inquis'tors had a trick
To make him poor, Oh he's an Heretick,
Let him have such a death; no power controul'd
Or curb'd them in; but what they would, they would.
If any, water, or a pad of straw,
Gave to the Saints, he was condemn'd by law.
If any advocate, assaid to plead
His kinsmans cause an Action indeed!
And if an Heir, his father that way leans,
And that's enough to rob him of his means.
Nay, for to keep the people in more aw,
They prisoners do in their processions draw
Triumphantly; injoyning them to vex
And scourge themselves; with ropes about their necks,
A torch in either hand, others along
Must pass to terrify the gazing throng.
66
They send cut some to fight against the Turks
And Infidels; (no need to seek for heires)
Their houses, goods, and chattels, all are theirs.
At their return, if any ask'd their wives
VVho lay with them? They 'ndangered their lives.
The foes confess'd, they had not wherewithall
To build up prisons for th' accused all:
And yet for all this persecution, there
Above eight hundred thousand Christians were.
The faith encreas'd, and with a prosp'rous gale
Clim'd o're the Alps came to Pragela's vale;
From thence the people bordered upon
St. Martin, Piedmont, La Perouse Angrogne.
Wander there did innumerable flocks
Upon the craggy cliffs, and algid rocks.
Above three thousand being hid in caves,
VVere stifled by these marble-hearted slaves.
The poor Waldenses by their pray'rs and tears
Oft mov'd the Lord to free them from their fears.
Two horsemen flying, cry'd, They come, they come;
Another while, the beating of a drum
Caused their foes retreat: whith stones, and slings,
They thousands kill'd at several skirmishings.
Thus God for his despised Saints did fight,
A handful putting num'rous foes to flight.
But when the godless party overcame,
They did commit their captives to the flame,
Or hang'd them up, or cut them out in quarters;
All which discourag'd not the glorious Martyrs.
Through the industrious Waldenses toil,
Abundant store of Corn, and VVine, and Oil,
Enrich'd Calabria; And God did bless
Their pains in Provence, with the like success.
At last when freely they the Gospels worth
Began to publish, Pope Pius the fourth
Disturbing them, they left behinde their goods,
VVith wives and children flying into th' woods;
But were pursu'd: some slain and others wounded,
Some famine-pined souls in caves were found dead,
And they that were of St. Xist and la Garde,
VVere rack'd, strip'd, whip'd, nor old nor young was spar'd
Panza slays eighty, and stakes up their joynts
For thirty miles together; he appoints
A quarter to each stake. Merindol Town
VVas razed by Opede, and batter'd down.
The Cabrierians brought into a field,
VVere hack'd to pieces 'cause they would nor yield.
And in a barn replenished with straw
VVomen were fir'd. Opede himself did draw
Young Infants from their mothers rip'd-up bellies;
His men kill'd them of Aïx and Marseilles:
Some two and two, together bound, they slew
And boots of scalding oil (O cruel!) drew
On others legs, But heav'n at last decreed
A woful end, to that accurs'd Opede.
The Waldenses, which into Albi came,
Of Albigenses thence receiv'd the name,
Pope Al'xander the third, his wrath did smoke
When they shook off his Antichristian yoke;
He them condemn'd as Her'ticks, yet they spred,
And many potent Towns inhabited:
Nay many Lords, and Earls, did with them side,
Against the Pope, and constantly deny'd
The Romish faith, and resolutely spake
Their willingness to suffer for Christs sake.
Beziers was stormed by the Pilgrim train,
And in it sixty thousand persons slain.
The Legat saies, Souldiers kill old and young,
For why? God knoweth those to him belong.
The Catholicks besieg'd and batter'd down
On the inhab'tants heads Carcasson Town.
When Baron Castle was surpriz'd, th' enclos'd
Of th' Albigenses were disey'd, disnos'd,
Then sent to Cab'ret with an one-ey'd guide.
Yet still like gold that's in a furnace tri'd,
The Saints, appear'd; their sparkling zeal like fire
Blown by afflictions bellows, blaz'd the higher.
Now Luther rose, the Antichristian terror,
And those that were seduc'd, reduc'd from error.
Oft mov'd the Lord to free them from their fears.
Two horsemen flying, cry'd, They come, they come;
Another while, the beating of a drum
Caused their foes retreat: whith stones, and slings,
They thousands kill'd at several skirmishings.
Thus God for his despised Saints did fight,
A handful putting num'rous foes to flight.
But when the godless party overcame,
They did commit their captives to the flame,
Or hang'd them up, or cut them out in quarters;
All which discourag'd not the glorious Martyrs.
Through the industrious Waldenses toil,
Abundant store of Corn, and VVine, and Oil,
Enrich'd Calabria; And God did bless
Their pains in Provence, with the like success.
67
Began to publish, Pope Pius the fourth
Disturbing them, they left behinde their goods,
VVith wives and children flying into th' woods;
But were pursu'd: some slain and others wounded,
Some famine-pined souls in caves were found dead,
And they that were of St. Xist and la Garde,
VVere rack'd, strip'd, whip'd, nor old nor young was spar'd
Panza slays eighty, and stakes up their joynts
For thirty miles together; he appoints
A quarter to each stake. Merindol Town
VVas razed by Opede, and batter'd down.
The Cabrierians brought into a field,
VVere hack'd to pieces 'cause they would nor yield.
And in a barn replenished with straw
VVomen were fir'd. Opede himself did draw
Young Infants from their mothers rip'd-up bellies;
His men kill'd them of Aïx and Marseilles:
Some two and two, together bound, they slew
And boots of scalding oil (O cruel!) drew
On others legs, But heav'n at last decreed
A woful end, to that accurs'd Opede.
The Waldenses, which into Albi came,
Of Albigenses thence receiv'd the name,
Pope Al'xander the third, his wrath did smoke
When they shook off his Antichristian yoke;
He them condemn'd as Her'ticks, yet they spred,
And many potent Towns inhabited:
Nay many Lords, and Earls, did with them side,
Against the Pope, and constantly deny'd
The Romish faith, and resolutely spake
Their willingness to suffer for Christs sake.
Beziers was stormed by the Pilgrim train,
And in it sixty thousand persons slain.
68
For why? God knoweth those to him belong.
The Catholicks besieg'd and batter'd down
On the inhab'tants heads Carcasson Town.
When Baron Castle was surpriz'd, th' enclos'd
Of th' Albigenses were disey'd, disnos'd,
Then sent to Cab'ret with an one-ey'd guide.
Yet still like gold that's in a furnace tri'd,
The Saints, appear'd; their sparkling zeal like fire
Blown by afflictions bellows, blaz'd the higher.
Now Luther rose, the Antichristian terror,
And those that were seduc'd, reduc'd from error.
| Brachy-Martyrologia | |