Beatoun, while sacrificing many victims, had lit a fire on elevated ground, ‘to the effect that the rest of the bischoppes myght schaw thame selfis no less fervent to suppress the light of God.’[224] That signal was not made in vain. In the town of Ayr, in the midst of the rich plains of that fertile county, was a young gentleman named Kennedy, about eighteen years of age, who had received a liberal education, and had tasted of the Gospel, without however attaining a well-grounded faith; a state sufficiently accounted for by his years. Gifted with some poetic faculty he had not spared the ignorance of the priests. Kennedy was seized and cast into prison.
In the same diocese, that of Glasgow, there lived in a convent of the Cordeliers one of those enlightened and pious monks who shone like stars in the deep night of the age. His name was Jerome Russel; his character was good, his wit ready, and his mind enriched with literary acquirements. Wharton, writing to Lord Cromwell in November 1538, speaks of a friar John, a well-informed man who was imprisoned at Dumfries at the instance of the bishops, and who had been loaded with chains because he professed respecting the law of God the same opinions which were held in England.[225] It is not to be doubted that he speaks of Russel. Dumfries is not far from Ayr.
The archbishop of Glasgow, Gawin Dunbar, was not of so persecuting a spirit as Beatoun, and as lord chancellor he was invested with the highest authority in the state. It was then the summer of 1539, and as Beatoun, although named cardinal, had not yet received the pontifical act which conferred on him that dignity, he could not have dared to appear in the diocese of Glasgow with his cross borne before him. But it was not enough for him to know that the learned Russel and the young Kennedy were in prison, he must get them burnt. Consequently he sent to Glasgow his favorite agent Lauder, who could affect insinuating manners and put on exaggerated pretensions to compass his ends. The clever notary Andrew Oliphant and the ardent monk Mortman accompanied him, charged to obtain from the archbishop the promise ‘that he would imbrue his hands in the blood of the friends of God.’ Knox therefore calls these three men Satan’s sergeants.
TRIAL OF KENNEDY AND RUSSEL.
Having reached Glasgow the three men got round the chancellor-prelate, and demanded of him far more than he could lawfully grant: he was not only to have the two evangelical Christians examined, he must put them to death. What reproaches he would incur if he protected heretics! what praises would he not win if he were ardent in serving the Church! Gawin yielded, and Russel and Kennedy were put on their trial. They appeared before the court, over which the archbishop himself presided, and the proceedings began. Thanks to the inventive zeal of Lauder and his colleagues, numerous charges were brought forward against the accused. Kennedy had an upright soul, but had rather an inclination to the faith than faith itself. The imposing display of judicial pomp, the gravity of the accusations, the severity of the punishment which was preparing, and the horrible agony which was to precede it, all disturbed the young man; he was distressed, and being sharply pressed to retract what he had written, he was intimidated and went astray.
Russel, on the other hand, whose faith, the fruit of close examination of the Word of God, was developed and established by long-continued studies, appeared full of decision. He replied with wisdom to his accusers, defended by powerful proofs the doctrines which he professed, and repulsed with calmness, dignity, and intrepidity the false accusations of his enemies. His words had an unlooked-for result: they reawakened the conscience of his young companion. The Spirit of God, the Spirit of all consolation, worked in him. The Christian life, which had scarcely begun in his heart, now expanded itself. ‘He felt himself as it were a new creature; his mind was changed;’ a living faith filled his heart; he was confirmed in his resolution.[226] From that time he no longer hesitated to give up his life for the truth. The happiness which he had lost came back to him; his countenance brightened, his tongue was loosed, there was a radiance in his whole person; and, falling on his knees, he exclaimed with joy—‘O eternal God, how wondrous is that love and mercy that thou bearest unto mankind, and unto me the most caitiff and miserable wretch above all others; for even now, when I would have denied thee and thy Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, my only Saviour, and so have casten myself in everlasting damnation, thou by thine own hand hast pulled me from the very bottom of hell, and makest me to feel that heavenly comfort which takes from me that ungodly fear wherewith before I was oppressed. Now I defy death.’ Then, rising, he turned towards his persecutors and said, ‘Do what ye please; I praise God I am ready.’[227]
The prayer of Kennedy touched the archbishop of Glasgow. He was disturbed. ‘It is better to spare these men,’ said he; ‘executions such as those which have taken place only do harm to the cause which they are meant to serve.’ The cardinal’s agents resolved to frighten the prelate, whose weakness they well knew, and they cried out lustily—‘Take care what ye are doing, my lord. Will ye condemn all that my lord cardinal and the other bishops and we have done? If so ye do, ye show yourself enemy to the kirk.’ Fear fell on the archbishop. Repressing the pity which had touched him, and silencing his conscience for the sake of preserving his reputation and his comfortable and easy life, he gave way.
THEIR MARTYRDOM.
Russel had remained calm till then, but exasperated by the calumnies of his enemies, indignant at the weakness of the archbishop, and confident in his own innocence, he said with dignity—‘This is your hour and power of darkness; now sit ye as judges, we stand wrongously accused, and more wrongously to be condemned; but the day shall come when our innocency shall appear, and that ye shall see your own blindness, to your everlasting confusion. Go forward, and fulfil the measure of your iniquity.’ Russel and Kennedy, condemned to the flames, were immediately handed over to the secular power.
The day following, as they passed to the place of execution, Russel thought that he perceived some apprehension in his friend. ‘Brother,’ said he, ‘fear not: more potent is he that is in us than is he that is in the world. The pain that we shall suffer is short and shall be light, but our joy and our consolation shall never have end.’ They who heard it were wonderfully affected. When the two martyrs arrived at the pile, they fell on their knees and prayed; then, rising, they were bound to the stake without uttering a word, and supported the fire with patience, making no sign of fear. ‘They won the victory over death, looking with faith,’ says a historian, ‘for everlasting habitations.’