There was one man more of note, and this was Justus van Ousberghen, next to Tielmans the most devoted evangelist. No one had more zeal, no one more courage, as a preacher of the Gospel. There was, however, one thing of which he was afraid, and this was the stake. Heretics were condemned to the flames; and the thought of being burnt, perhaps burnt over a slow fire, caused him unheard of uneasiness and pain. And assuredly, many might be uneasy at less. Nevertheless, he lost no opportunity of proclaiming the Gospel. He was not at Louvain at the time of the persecutions of March; but was then in an abbey about two leagues from the town, where he was at work. The poor man had sore trials to bear. His wife was a scold. Some time before the scenes of March 1543, Justus had been absent from Louvain three or four months, no doubt for the purpose of making known the Gospel at the same time that he was working for his livelihood.
When he returned home, his wife, ‘instead of bidding him welcome, received him in a shameful manner.’ ‘People have been to arrest you,’ she said to him; and she refused to admit him into their dwelling. Justus, notwithstanding his zeal, was a man of feeble character, and his wife ruled over him. He did not enter his house. Turned into the street, and exhausted with fatigue, he questioned with himself whither he should go. The heavens were black and the rain was falling in torrents. He betook himself to the bachelor of arts, Gosseau, and requested him to give him a bed for a single night. ‘I promise you I will go away to-morrow morning,’ he said. The Gosseaus with pleasure complied with his request. ‘You are quite chilly from the rain,’ they said; ‘first warm yourself by the fire.’ The poor man dried himself, and then took a little food. ‘God be praised,’ said he, ‘for all my miseries, and for giving me strength to rise above them!’
Shortly after the terrible night of March, Justus, as we have mentioned, was at an abbey two leagues from Louvain, where he was employed ‘in trimming with fur the frocks of the monks,’ for he was a furrier by trade. He had established himself at the entrance to the monastery, and was doing his work without a thought of impending danger. Suddenly the drossard of Brabant made his appearance, with a great number of archers. The drossard was an officer of justice whose business was to punish the excesses committed by vagrants. As the pious Van Ousberghen used to travel from place to place to get work, the magistrate had affected to consider him not as a heretic—this would have been honoring him too much—but as a vagrant. ‘At once, all the archers,’ he related, ‘fell upon me as a troop of ravenous wolves fall upon a sheep; and they instantly seized my skins and trade implements.’ The wolves, however, did not content themselves with the skins, they seized the man and carefully searched him. Ousberghen made no resistance. They found on him a New Testament and some sermons of Luther ‘which he always carried in his bosom.’ The archers were delighted with these discoveries. ‘Here,’ they said, pointing to the books, ‘here is enough to convict him.’ They hastily bound him and took him to Brussels; and there he was confined in the house of the drossard. The monks who had assembled were amazed at the scene of violence which was presented at their own gates. They had had no suspicion that a man who decorated their garments kept such heretical books in his pocket.[[884]]
His Trial.
The next day two councillors of the chancery of Brabant appeared to conduct his examination. ‘We shall have you put to the torture,’ they said, ‘if you do not speak the truth.’ ‘I will speak it till death,’ he answered, ‘and I shall need no torture to compel me.’ They asked him what he thought of the pope, of purgatory, of the mass, of indulgences. ‘I believe,’ said he, ‘that salvation is given of God of his perfectly free goodness;’ and he confirmed his faith by the words of Holy Scripture. ‘Why,’ resumed the commissioners, ‘have you these books about you, since it is not your calling to read?’ ‘It is my calling to read what is necessary for my salvation,’ he replied. ‘The redemption announced in the New Testament belongs to me no less than to the great doctors or even the great princes of the world.’ ‘But these books are heretical.’ ‘I hold them to be Christian and salutary.’ The Reformation was and always will be the most powerful means of diffusing instruction. Rome said to the people—‘It is not your business to read.’ And the people, instructed by the Reformation, answered, ‘It is our business to read that which saves us.’
The examination continued: ‘Discover to us your accomplices, heretical like yourself,’ said the councillors. ‘I know no other heretics,’ replied Justus, ‘but the persecutors of the heavenly doctrine.’ This word ‘persecutors’ suddenly enraged the commissioners. ‘You blaspheme,’ they exclaimed. ‘If you do not acknowledge that you lie, we will make you undergo such torments as man has never yet suffered; we will tear you limb from limb with a hot iron.’[[885]] ‘The drossard saw with his own eyes the monks of the convent where I was seized and which I attended,’replied he; ‘if you wish to have them taken, do so at your own good pleasure.’
His Fears.
Thereupon Justus was conducted to the prison of la Vrunte, into a lofty chamber, railed in and barred, in which he was left for nine weeks without seeing any one. Terrible were the assaults which he suffered in his own soul. Left without any human support, and no longer feeling in himself the same energy, the snares of the enemy, the remembrance of his sins, the image of a cruel death by burning, astounded and made him tremble. ‘Pray with me,’ he said to another prisoner; ‘entreat that the mercy of God may keep me in the article of death, and that I may happily reach the end of this Christian warfare.’ New strength was indeed given him.
On the day of the departure of Charles the Fifth, who had stayed some time at Brussels, Justus was brought before the court (January 3, 1544). The commissioners read to him the confession made before them. ‘Do you acknowledge it?’ they said. He answered that he did. ‘But,’ he added, ‘you have suppressed the testimonies of the Holy Scriptures by which I confirmed it.’ ‘Since you acknowledge this confession,’ said the councillors, ‘we summon you to retract it; otherwise you will be tormented with unheard of pains, and burnt alive.’ ‘You may make use of force,’ he answered, ‘but you can not compel me to this iniquity.’ ‘We give you till to-morrow to consider it.’ As he was re-entering his prison, tied and bound, Giles Tielmans approached him and said affectionately, ‘What is the matter?’ ‘The Lord calls me,’ he answered. Giles was going to speak further with him, but the archers roughly thrust him back, saying—‘Off with thee; thou hast deserved to die as much as he! Thy turn will come.’ ‘Think also of your own,’ said Giles.
On the following day, Justus was again brought before the judges. ‘Hast thou changed thy opinion?’ they said to him. ‘If thou dost not retract every thing thou wilt perish.’ ‘Never will I deny, on earth and before men, the eternal truth of God, because I desire that it should bear witness for me before the Father in heaven.’ Thereupon they condemned him to be burnt alive. ‘Thy body shall be consumed,’ they said, ‘and entirely reduced to ashes.’ This was enough to strike terror into the heart of the poor man who had such a dread of fire; but falling upon his knees he thanked God, and then his judges, for putting an end to the miseries of his life. Terrified, however, at the thought of the flames, he turned to his judges and said—‘Give permission for me to be beheaded.’ ‘The sentence is passed,’ they said, ‘and can be revoked only by the queen.’[[886]]