Robert Southwell

Priest and poet, missionary and martyr, Saint Robert Southwell (1561 – 1595) lived a life of obedience to Christ, no matter the cost, even unto death. Born in England, he was sent at a young age to Douai in France to be taught at the Jesuit school there. Later he trained to become a Jesuit priest and, after study and time as a novice, he graduated and was ordained a priest in 1584. In 1586 he volunteered to be a missionary priest in England. This was no triumphant homecoming because at this time it was a crime to have become a priest and Catholics were regularly arrested as political enemies and traitors. 

He managed to avoid imprisonment until 1592, all the while writing epistles and poetry, and serving as a chaplain in the household of the first Earl of Arundel. His writings were published as small pamphlets without his name being attached to them, not being collected and published until 1596, after his death. When he was arrested, he was subject to torture by Richard Topcliffe, the Queen’s primary torturer. He spent nearly 3 years in the Tower of London until his trial in 1595. Of course, the guilty verdict was a foregone conclusion and on February 21, 1595, he was hanged, drawn and quartered. (Look up what that entails. It’s about as pleasant as a crucifixion.) Pope Paul VI canonized him on October 25, 1970, as one of the Forty Martyrs of England and Wales.

All of his writings were on religious themes, two of his most famous works being Saint Peter’s Complaint and Mary Magdalen’s Funeral Tears. Although a young man when he died, he nevertheless influenced contemporaries such as Shakespeare and later poets John Donne and Gerard Manley Hopkins. This shorter poem A Short Rule of Good Life is described on the website poetryfoundation.org as “a small handbook for the layman who wishes to live a devout life.” Don’t let the spelling confuse you. It might be easier to read out loud, listening to the words. If a “u” seems inappropriate, try substituting a “v”: “prevent” for “preuent.”

If Vertue be thy guide,

True comfort is thy path,

And thou secure from erring steps,

That leade to vengeance’ wrath.

Not widest open doore,

Nor spacious ways she goes;

To straight and narrow gate and way,

She cals, she leads, she shewes.

She cals, the fewest come:

She leades, the humble sprited;

She shews them rest at race’s end,

Soule’s rest to heauen inuited.

‘Tis she that offers most;

‘Tis she that most refuse;

‘Tis she preuents the broad-way plagues,

Which most do wilfull chuse;

Doe choose the wide, the broad,

The left-hand way and gate;

These Vice applauds, these Vertue loaths

And teacheth hers to hate.

Her waies are pleasant waies,

Vpon the right-hand side;

And heauenly-happy is that soule

Takes Vertue for her guide.