Picture the streets of London or maybe York in
the late 1500s. I think we usually picture Shakespeare,
you know, the Globe Theater, the giant ruffled
collars, maybe Queen Elizabeth looking very majestic.
Right, the golden age of Elizabeth in England.
Yeah, exactly. But if you scratch the surface...
the vibe is completely different. It is paranoid.
It is razor wire tense. You've got spies in the
taverns, intercepting codes in the mail, and
just neighbors constantly watching neighbors.
It was effectively a surveillance state, because
if you fell on the wrong side of the religious
divide, you weren't just a dissenter. You were
viewed as a potential enemy combatant. And today
we are doing a deep dive into a story that fits
perfectly into that high stakes world. For you
listening at home, we're going to look at the
life of Edward Thwing. Yes, an English Catholic
priest, a scholar, and ultimately a martyr. And
we are pulling from a bunch of great sources
today. We've got historical records, biographical
data regarding his life and his education over
in Europe, the specific laws they used to prosecute
him, and the records of his ultimate execution.
The goal today isn't just to recite a biography
though. No, exactly. We want to really examine
that clash between a personal conviction and
state law in the late 16th century. Though I
have to admit, I am completely hooked on the
spy novel elements of his story. The escapes,
the hiding out, the secret missions. Which is
fascinating, but I think we also have to frame
it as a really tragic study of religious and
political conflict. Fair point. Because the protagonist
here isn't a soldier or some swashbuckling spy.
He is a guy with a really who just wanted to
read books and say Mass. That is a very accurate,
if maybe slightly understated, description of
Edward. Well, let's get into it. Let's track
his life from a comfortable home in York to his
end at Lancaster, who was Edward Twing before
he became an enemy of the state. Well, he was
born around 1565. He was the second son of Thomas
Twing of Hangarworth, which is near York, and
his mother was Jane Kellett. So they weren't
exactly peasants. Far from it. This was a notable
family. But beyond the money or the land, there
was this heavy spiritual expectation hanging
over him. He had a remarkably saintly pedigree.
Oh right, the family connection. Yes, he was
directly related to the 14th century saint John
Twing of Bridlington. So holiness wasn't just
a casual Sunday thing for this family, it was
their legacy. That is a lot of pressure for a
kid. I mean, imagine growing up and knowing your
ancestor is literally a canonized saint. It definitely
sets a high bar. And growing up in the 1560s
and 70s, maintaining that Catholic identity was
becoming increasingly dangerous in England. If
you felt a calling to the priesthood, you had
a massive problem. You couldn't just enroll in
a seminary. They simply didn't exist in England
anymore. Right, so you had to go into exile,
which kicks off what I've been calling in my
notes his European tour. A very grueling tour.
In the summer of 1583, Thwing leaves home and
heads to the English college at Rhimes in France.
And he doesn't just stay there. No. We can trace
his movements. pretty clearly through the records.
He spends time with the Jesuits at Pont de Masson,
and then eventually travels down to Rome in 1587.
But this is where we get that really humanizing
detail from the biographical data. When I picture
historical martyrs, I usually imagine these unbreakable,
stoic, almost marble figures. But Edward Thwing
was kind of a physical wreck. He was incredibly
frail. He actually had to cut his studies in
Rome short and go all the way back to Reims due
to severe ill health. And there's a specific
record from November of 1592 where he went to
Spa, like literally the town of Spa in Belgium,
specifically because he was suffering from an
ulcer in his knee. An ulcerated knee in the late
16th century would have been agonizing. This
is long before antibiotics or modern painkillers.
That detail just makes him feel like a real person
to me, not just a name in a history book. He
probably limped everywhere. He probably had to
stop. and rest all the time. But despite that
physical illness, he was an absolute intellectual
heavyweight. He was a reader of Greek and Hebrew.
He became a professor of rhetoric and logic.
So he's a man of the mind, clearly. Yes. And
eventually he is ordained at Lyon on December
20, 1590. Which sets up this incredible transition.
You have this fragile, brilliant scholar. He's
safe in Europe, but he chooses to enter a danger
zone. In 1597, he is sent on the English mission.
He decides it is time to return. And what are
the immediate consequences of that? Because it
doesn't go well. Yeah, it seems he was arrested
almost immediately upon returning. Let's do a
deep dive into the law here, because we need
to understand the trap he walked into. What was
the specific legal landscape in 1597? It was
defined heavily by the Jesuits, etc. Act of 1584.
The formal citation is 27 Elizabeth 1, Chapter
2. Wait, the Jesuits, etc. Act, did they really
name a law with etc.? Well, the full title is
an act against Jesuits, seminary priests, and
such other like disobedient persons. Yeah. But
yes, historians often shorten it. The rules of
this act were terrifyingly simple. It gave all
Roman Catholic treats 40 days to leave the country
or swear an oath to obey the Queen. And the punishment
if you didn't. Failure to comply was considered
high treason. High treason. Usually you think
of treason as plotting to assassinate a monarch
or selling secrets to a foreign army. That is
the crucial point here. The law framed religious
existence itself as political treason. You didn't
have to plot anything. By simply being a priest
ordained by the Pope's authority, you're classified
as an agent of a foreign enemy. That is a total
legal trap. Absolutely. And there was collateral
damage built into the law as well. Anyone harboring
these priests or even knowing of their presence
and not informing the authorities faced massive
fines and imprisonment for felony. So you could
lose everything just for giving Edward a place
to sleep. Yes. So when Thwing is arrested shortly
after his return, he is in the absolute worst
kind of legal peril. So they have him in custody,
a frail scholar and another priest, a Dominican
friar named Robert Nutter. They get sent to Wisbeck
Castle. Now, I looked at the historical records
on this and Wisbeck is fascinating. It is a massive
paradox. It really is. It wasn't a dungeon in
the traditional sense. No, it was a state ecclesiastical
prison. But because they concentrated so many
Catholic priests and dissenters there, the area
effectively became a major center for English
Catholicism. The records show they were supported
by Catholic alms, so they were actually relatively
comfortable. They had access to funds, books,
they could debate theology. But the detail from
the sources that totally baffled me was the report
by Henry Garnet. Can you explain the five mile
rule? Henry Garnet reported that the keeper of
Wisbeck, actually allowed the detainees permission
to move within a five -mile radius of the castle.
I just cannot wrap my head around that. You have
men locked up for high treason, the most severe
crime possible, and the warden is basically saying,
go stretch your legs, just don't wander too far.
It defies our modern understanding of a maximum
security prison. Why would they do that? It was
likely a mix of factors. For one, wealthy prisoners
could pay for privileges. But this unique Almost
relaxed environment might have been exactly what
facilitated what happened next. If you give a
prisoner a five -mile leash, you were giving
them the opportunity to survey the landscape,
to make contacts, to plan. And that leads right
into the great escape. Thwing and Nutter break
out of Wisbeck. They escape the five -mile radius
and vanish. And this manhunt lasts for three
years. They become fugitives hiding out in Lancashire.
Which was a massive stronghold for Catholic families
who refused to again the state church. I want
to focus on the tension of those fugitive years
for a second. For you listening, imagine living
underground for three solid years. You know the
penalty if you are caught is death. You know
the penalty for the families hiding you is ruin
and prison. The psychological toll would have
been immense. Every knock on the door, every
stranger in a village. And we have to remember
Thwing's physical condition, the ulcerated knee.
hiding in tiny priest holes built into the walls
of manor houses, cramped in pain, completely
silent while the Queen's men searched the house.
It is the ultimate test of personal conviction.
He could have tried to flee back to the continent,
but he stayed to minister to the people in Lancashire.
But the fugitive years eventually end. In May
1600, they are arrested again. The authorities
commit them to Lancaster Castle this time. No
five -mile radius walks here. They are held until
the next of sizes, which was the session of the
traveling regional courts. And when the trial
happens, what is the actual charge read against
them? Did they fabricate a plot this time? No,
they didn't even bother to fabricate a plot.
The records show they were condemned quite simply
for being priests. That was the entirety of the
charge under the 1584 Act. And so we reach the
end of the line, July 26, 1600. Edward Thwing
and Robert Nutter are executed together at Lancaster.
And we should note the method of execution because
it speaks to the state's view of their crime.
They were hung, drawn and quartered. The absolute
most severe punishment available. It was specifically
reserved for treason. It was a highly public,
theatrical and brutal method designed to obliterate
the person entirely and serve as a terrifying
warning to anyone else. Which makes the epilogue
to this deep dive so chilling. I want to talk
about the echo of history here, looking at the
family legacy. Yes, the grand nephew. Exactly.
Introduce us to Thomas Thwing. Thomas Thwing
was Edward's grand nephew. And 80 years after
Edward's execution, in 1680, Thomas suffers the
exact same fate. 80 years later, the world has
changed, but the danger hasn't. What was the
context for Thomas? In 1680, England was swept
up in the hysteria of the Popish plot, which
was a completely fabricated conspiracy invented
by a man named Titus Oates. He claimed Catholics
were planning to assassinate King Charles II.
And Thomas gets swept up in an offshoot of that.
Yes, the Barnbow Plot in Yorkshire. It was local
paranoia feeding off the national hysteria. Thomas
was accused tried, and despite the lack of credible
evidence, he was condemned. And he was executed
the same way, hung, drawn, and quartered. Exactly
the same way. It is wild to think about that
repetition of history. But both men were eventually
recognized by their church, weren't they? They
were. Thomas was beatified in 1929, and Edward,
our scholar with a bad knee, was beatified by
Pope John Paul II in the 1980s. Sources differ
slightly between 1982 and 1987, but during that
decade as one of the 85 martyrs of England and
Wales. So to summarize the journey we just took,
we tracked a man who went from being a fragile
professor in Europe to a fugitive living in the
walls of Lancashire houses. And the key takeaway
from the historical data is that his story is
a perfect snapshot of an era when the mere act
of being a priest was a capital offense. Right.
It wasn't about what you did. It was about who
you were. OK, I see. Before we wrap up today,
I want to leave you, the listener, with a final
provocative thought to explore on your own. We
just talked about how Edward's grandnephew met
the exact same end decades apart under different
political pretexts, but the same underlying tension.
A tragic family parallel. Definitely. But think
about Thomas growing up. He must have known the
stories of his great uncle Edward. He knew exactly
how brutal the end could be. So how does family
legacy shape your conviction? That is a fascinating
angle. Does knowing the horrific danger warn
you away from a path? Or does the fact that your
ancestor paid that ultimate price make you feel
compelled to follow them? Does the legacy cement
your conviction in a way that nothing else could?
It really makes you wonder if Thomas saw his
uncle's life as a cautionary tale or a call to
action. Exactly. Something for you all to mull
over. Thanks for joining us on this deep dive
into the historical records of Edward Thwing.
We will see you next time.