The wrath of the cardinal was greatly stirred. Thomas Garret had
escaped once again. His own college had been proved to be, if not a
hotbed of heresy, at least one of the centres whence dangerous
doctrines had been disseminated; and amongst those who had been
engaged in this unrighteous task were several of those very men
whom he himself had introduced there, that they might, by their
godly life and conversation, be shining lights amongst their
companions.
It was natural, perhaps, that Wolsey's wrath should burn somewhat
fiercely, and be especially directed against the black sheep of his
own college. He was too busy with public affairs to come himself to
Oxford at this juncture; but he wrote many and lengthy epistles to
the authorities there, and prayed them to use every means in their
power of ridding the place of heresy, promising to give the matter
his own earnest consideration. He had believed that heresy was for
the present stamped out in London, owing to the prompt and decisive
measures taken. He declared it would be far easier to tackle in the
smaller town of Oxford; yet he and others who knew the two schools
of thought had an inkling that the seed, once sown in the hearts of
young and ardent and thinking men, would be found sprouting up and
bearing fruit sometimes when least expected.
However, there was no lack of zeal in executing the cardinal's
commands; and Clarke, together with other canons of his college,
Dalaber of Gloucester College, Udel, Diet, Radley, and even young
Fitzjames, whose friendship with Dalaber was thought highly
suspicious, were all cast into prison, and some of them into very
close and rigorous captivity, with an unknown fate hanging over
them, which could not but fill even the stoutest soul with dread
and horror.
The prisons of the middle ages will scarce bear detailed
description in these modern days; the condition of filth and
squalor of the lower cells, often almost without air, and reeking
with pestilential vapours, baffles words in which to describe it.
To be sure, persons in daily life were used to conditions which
would now be condemned as hopelessly insanitary, and were not so
susceptible and squeamish as we have since become. The ordinary
state of some of the poorer students' halls in Oxford appears to us
as simply disgusting; yet the thing was accepted then as a matter
of course.
Nevertheless, the condition of those cast into the prisons of those
days was a very forlorn and terrible one, and almost more
calculated to break the spirit and the constancy of the captive
than any more short and sharp ordeal might do. It is scarcely to be
supposed that the prisons in Oxford were superior to those in other
parts of the country, and indeed the sequel to the incarceration of
Clarke and his companions seems to prove the contrary.
But at least, in those days, bribes to the jailers could do, in
most cases, something for the amelioration of the lot of the
prisoner; and Arthur Cole was possessed of a warm heart, a long
purse, and a character for orthodoxy which enabled him to associate
on friendly terms with suspected persons without incurring the
charge of heresy. His own near relative being proctor of the
university, and his own assured position there, gave him great
advantages; and these he used fearlessly during the days which
followed, and even sought private interviews with the three heads
of houses who had the main jurisdiction in the matter of these
unfortunate students.
But for the first few days after Dalaber's arrest and imprisonment
the excitement was too keen to admit of any mediation. The
authorities were busy unravelling the "web of iniquity," making
fresh discoveries of books, chiefly copies of the New Testament,
circulating amongst the students, and sending to prison those who
possessed them, or had been known to be connected with the
Association of Christian Brothers.
All that Arthur could contrive during that first week was a visit
to the cell of Dalaber. He was absolutely refused admittance to
Clarke, who, he heard, was lodged in a dark and foul prison, where
once salt fish had been stored, and which was the most noxious of
any in the building.
Clarke, it seemed, had now become the object of the greatest
suspicion and distrust. The Bishop of Lincoln--then the Diocesan of
Oxford--had written most stringently on his account, and no
inducement would prevail to gain admittance to him; nor did Arthur
feel the smallest confidence that the money greedily accepted by
the warder in charge would ever be expended upon the prisoner.
He was very heavy-hearted about this friend of his; but he had
better fortune in his attempts to gain speech with Dalaber.
At the end of a week he prevailed so far as to gain a short
interview with him, and was locked into the cell in some haste by
the jailer, and bidden to be brief in what he had to say, since it
was not long that he could be permitted to remain.
Dalaber sprang up from the stone bench on which he had been sitting
in a dejected attitude, and when he saw the face of his friend he
uttered an exclamation of joy.
"Arthur! you have come to me! Nay, but this is a true friend's
part. Art sure it is safe to do so? Thou must not run thine own
neck into a noose on my account. But oh, how good it is to see the
face of a friend!"
He seized Arthur's two hands, wringing them in a clasp that was
almost pain, and his face worked with emotion.
Arthur, as his eyes grew used to the darkness, was shocked at the
change which a week had wrought in his friend. Dalaber's face
seemed to have shrunk in size, the eyes had grown large and hollow,
his colour had all faded, and he looked like a man who had passed
through a sharp illness.
"What have they done to you, Anthony, thus to change you?" cried
Arthur, in concern.
"Oh, nothing, as yet. I have but sat in the stocks two days, till
they sent me for closer ward hither. After Master Garret's escape
bolts and bars have not been thought secure enough out of the
prison house. But every time the bolt shoots back I think that it
may be the men come to take me to the Tower. They have threatened
to send me thither to be racked, and afterwards to be burnt. If it
must come to that, pray Heaven it come quickly. It is worse to sit
here thinking and picturing it all than to know the worst has come
at last."
His hands were hot, and the pulses throbbed. Arthur could see the
shining of the dilated eyes. Dalaber's vivid imagination had been a
rather terrible companion for him during these days of darkness and
solitude. The authorities had shown some shrewd knowledge of human
nature when they had shut him up alone. Some of the culprits had
been housed together in the prison, but Dalaber had been quite
solitary.
It was not so evil a cell that he occupied as some of the others.
Arthur's gold had prevailed thus far. But nothing could save him
from the horrors of utter loneliness, and these had told upon him
more than greater hardships would have done, had they been shared
with others. It had been characteristic of Dalaber all through his
life that he could be more courageous and steadfast for others than
for himself.
"Tush, Anthony! There will be no more such talk now," answered
Arthur, with a laugh. "They have found out for themselves all that
you withheld. They have laid by the heels enough victims to satisfy
the wrath of the bishop and the cardinal. And already there is a
difference in the minds of the authorities here. In a short while
they will become themselves advocates of mercy. They took a great
fright at hearing of heresy in Oxford; but persecution is against
the very essence of our existence as a university--persecution for
what men think. Mine own uncle only last night was beginning to
hope that, having laid hands upon the culprits, they would now be
gently dealt with. But for the cardinal and the bishop there would
be little to fear."
Anthony drew a deep breath, as of relief. His clasp on Arthur's
hands slowly slackened.
"Then they talk not of the Tower for me, or for any?"
"I have heard no word of it. I am sure such matter is not in their
thoughts. And truly, if heresy be so grievous a crime, they have
need to look to themselves; for those same three judges before whom
ye were brought, Anthony, have committed an act of heresy for which
the penalty is the same death with which they have threatened you
and others."
"What mean you?" asked Dalaber, with wide-open eyes.
"Marry, this--that when they sought in vain for Master Garret, and
were unable to find him, they went themselves to an astrologer, and
bid him make a figure by the stars, that he might know whither the
fugitive had fled; and he, having done so, declared that Garret had
escaped in a tawny coat to the southeastward, and was like to be
found in London, where doubtless some of the brotherhood have hid
him. And this they have dared to tell to the cardinal and to the
bishop, in no wise ashamed of their own act; whereas the church
forbids expressly any such asking of portents from the stars, and
it is as much heresy as any deed of which you and your comrades
have been guilty."
Dalaber broke into a short laugh.
"By the Mass, but in sooth it is so!" he exclaimed, drawing a long
breath. "Shall not the God of all the earth look down and judge
between us and our foes? O Arthur, Arthur, how can one not call
such men our foes? They hunt us down and would do us to death
because we claim the right to love and study the Word of God, and
they themselves practise the arts of necromancy, which have been
from the beginning forbidden as an abomination in the sight of the
Lord, and they feel no shame, but blazon abroad their evil deed. Is
it not time that the church were purged of such rulers as these?"
"Perchance it is; but that I hold is to be settled not by us but by
God Himself. He has not shown Himself backward in the past to
cleanse His sanctuary of defilement, and I trow we can leave this
work to Him now, and wait His time. Patience, good Anthony,
patience. That is my word of counsel to you. You will not reform
the church singlehanded. The brethren will not do it; and it were
only a source of weakness to rob the church of those of her sons
who are longing after righteousness and truth. Be not in such
haste. Be content to stand aside, and see for a while how the Lord
Himself will work. You know the words of Scripture, that in
quietness and confidence shall be your rest. There may be periods
when quietness does more to prevail than any open strife. You have
made your protest. The world will not listen yet; but the time
shall come when it will be more ready. Wait in patience for that
day, and seek not to run before the Lord."
Such sage counsel was not unpalatable to Dalaber, who was in a less
combative mood now than he had been of late. He had been threatened
with excommunication, and indeed for a while there was no hope that
he would be regarded as a fit person to receive the holy rite. That
in itself was terrible to his devout spirit, and when any person
spoke gently and kindly to him, and in a friendly and persuasive
fashion, he was always eager to declare his love and loyalty for
the Catholic Church.
He hated the thought of being regarded as an outcast and heathen.
He knew that it was so terribly unjust. He had borne witness to his
own beliefs; he had made full confession of faith; he had
steadfastly refused to betray any comrade. Perhaps he had now done
enough for the cause of liberty and righteousness, and might step
aside for a while and see what would be the result of the movement
now set on foot.
He asked eagerly about those who had been taken, and his eyes
filled with tears when he heard that Clarke was one of the victims,
and one who was likely to be treated with greater harshness than
the rest.
"A saint of the Lord, if ever there was one!" cried Dalaber
earnestly. "Oh, if only they would let me share his confinement!
What would not I give to be with him, to tend and comfort him, and
listen to his godly words! I should fear nothing, were he beside
me. Surely the angels of the Lord will be about his bed through the
hours of darkness, and will keep him from the malice of his
enemies."
"I trust that he will be liberated ere long," answered Arthur
gravely. "But they will never make him speak a word that his heart
goes not with. And it is said that the bishop and the cardinal are
much incensed against the canons of the college who have been found
tampering, as they choose to call it, with the holy Catholic
faith."
"And Freda? How is she, and what says she of all these matters?"
"She is in much trouble of spirit, but she bears it with courage,
and I do all that I may to comfort her.
"I have won the right to think of her as a sister now," added
Arthur, with the colour rising in his face, "for Magdalen has
promised to be my wife. We are betrothed, and I ask your
gratulations, Anthony."
These were given with great fervour, and for a brief while the two
young men forgot all else in eager lovers' talk. Anthony was
assured that no danger threatened the house of Dr. Langton for his
friendship with Clarke and others of those now in prison. The
anxiety of the authorities was simply with the students and those
under their care in the university. The private opinions of private
persons in the place did not concern them in any grave fashion.
Already enlightened men were beginning to foresee a gradual change
in ecclesiastical government in the land, though it might not be
just yet. Even the most zealous of the church party, when they were
shrewd and far-sighted men, and not immediately concerned with the
present struggle, saw signs of an inevitable increase in light and
individual liberty of thought which would bring great changes with
it. To check heresy amongst the students was the duty of the
authorities, in virtue of their office; but they gave themselves no
concern outside the walls of their colleges. Perhaps they knew that
if they attempted to hunt out all heretics, or such as might be so
called, from the city, they would denude it of half its population.
Indeed, having once laid hands on the offenders, and argued and
talked with them, Dr. London himself, though regarded by the
culprits as somewhat like a greedy lion roaring after his prey, and
being, in truth, a man of whom not much good can be written, wrote
to the cardinal and the Bishop of Lincoln, plainly intimating that
he thought the matter might be safely hushed up, and that it would
be a pity to proceed to any extremity.
"These youths," he said, "have not been long conversant with Master
Garret, nor have greatly perused his mischievous books; and long
before Master Garret was taken, divers of them were weary of these
works, and delivered them back to Dalaber. I am marvellous sorry
for the young men. If they be openly called upon, although they
appear not greatly infect, yet they shall never avoid slander,
because my lord's grace did send for Master Garret to be taken. I
suppose his Grace will know of your good lordship everything.
Nothing shall be hid, I assure your good lordship, an every one of
them were my brother; and I do only make this moan for these
youths, for surely they be of the most towardly young men in
Oxford, and as far as I do yet perceive, not greatly infect, but
much to blame for reading any part of these works."
It was Arthur who brought word to the Bridge House of this letter
of mediation which had been sent to the bishop, who would then
confer with the cardinal; and the hearts of all beat high with
hope.
"Surely, when he reads that, he will not deal harshly with them!"
spoke Freda, her colour coming and going.
"I hope not--I trust not; but for the bishop none may answer. I
would rather we had the cardinal directly over us; but it is the
bishop who is our lord and master."
"And is he a hard and cruel man?"
"He is one who has a vehement hatred of heresy, and would destroy
it root and branch," answered Arthur. "It may be that even this
letter will in some sort anger him, though it is meant for the
best."
"How anger him?" asked Magdalen.
"Marry, in that he sees how godly and toward has been the walk of
those youths who are now accounted guilty of heresy. Even Dr.
London, who has been so busy in the matter of the arrests, now that
he hath gotten them safe in ward, is forced to own that they are
amongst the best and most promising of the students of the
university, and therefore he himself pleads that they be not
harshly dealt with. But how the bishop will like to hear that is
another matter."
"Yet to us it cannot but be a testimony," spoke Dr. Langton
gravely, "and one which those in authority would do well to lay to
heart. In the matter of wisdom, prudence, and obedience, these
young men may have failed somewhat--they may have been carried away
by a certain rashness and impetuosity; but that they are of a pious
and godly walk and conversation, even their accusers know well. And
here in Oxford, where so much brawling and license and sinfulness
stalks rampant, does it not say somewhat for these new doctrines
that they attract the more toward and religious, and pass the
idlers and reprobates by?"
So there was much eager talk and discussion throughout Oxford
during the days which followed, and excitement ran high when it was
known that Garret had been taken--not in London, not in a tawny
coat, but near to Bristol--by a relative of Cole, one of the
proctors, who had recognized him from the description sent by his
relative, and was eager to be permitted to conduct him to Oxford,
and hand him over to the authorities.
Arthur heard all the story, and was very indignant; for though
Garret was no favourite or friend of his, he was a graduate of his
own college, and he felt it hard that he should have been hunted
down like a mad dog, and caught just at the very moment when he was
nearing the coast, and might well have hoped to make good his
escape.
"I am no friend to Master Wylkins for his zeal," he said, "and
right glad am I that the law would not allow him to take possession
of the prisoner, but had him lodged in Ilchester jail, despite his
offer of five hundred pounds as surety for his safe appearance when
called for. He is to be taken now to London, to the cardinal, under
special writ. But I have greater hopes of his finding mercy with
the cardinal than had he come here and been subject to the Bishop
of Lincoln."
A little later and the news came that the monk Ferrar, who had
suddenly disappeared from Oxford after the arrest of Dalaber, had
been taken in London in the house of one of the brethren, and that
he and Garret were both in the hands of the cardinal.
"What will they do to them?" questioned Freda of Arthur, who came
daily to visit them with all the latest news.
But that was a question none could answer as yet, though it seemed
to Freda as if upon that depended all her life's future. For if
these men were done to death for conscience' sake, could Dalaber,
their friend and confederate, hope to escape?
Arthur always spoke hopefully, but in his heart he was often sorely
troubled. He came at dusk today, clad in a cloak down to his heels,
and with another over his arm. He suddenly spoke aside to Freda.
"Mistress Frideswyde, I sometimes fear me that if our friend
Anthony get no glimpse of you in his captivity he will pine away
and die. I have leave to take some few dainties to the prison, and
I have below a basket in which to carry them. It is growing dusk.
Wrapped in this cloak, and with a hat well drawn down over your
face, you might well pass for my servant, bearing the load. I might
make excuse that you should carry in the basket instead of me. Are
you willing to run the risk of rebuke, and perchance some small
unpleasantness at the hands of the keepers of the prison, to give
this great joy to Anthony?"
Freda's face was all aflame with her joy. In a moment she had, with
her sister's aid, so transformed herself that none would have
guessed her other than the servant of Arthur, carrying a load for
his master. She was tall and slight and active, and trod with firm
steps as he walked on before her in the gathering dusk. She
suffered him not to bear the load even a portion of the way, but
played her part of servant to perfection, and so came with a
beating heart beneath the frowning gateway of the prison, where it
seemed to her that some evil and terrible presence overshadowed all
who entered.
Arthur was known to the sentries and servants by this time. He
visited several of the prisoners, and his gratuities made his
visits welcome. He was conducted almost without remark towards
Dalaber's cell, and no one made any comment when he said to Freda,
in the commanding tone of a master:
"Bring the basket along, sirrah! Follow me, and wait for me till I
call. I shall not be above a few moments. It grows late."
Freda had trembled as she passed the portal, but she did not
tremble now. She stood where she was bidden, and Arthur, for a very
short time, disappeared in the darkness, and she heard the shooting
of a bolt. Then the turnkey came back and said, with a short laugh:
"Thy master hath a long purse and a civil tongue. I go to do his
bidding, and refresh myself with a sup of good canary. Go on
thither with that basket. I shall be back in a few short minutes.
He will call thee when he wants thee."
The man and his lantern disappeared, and the door of the corridor
was slammed to and locked. There was no hope of escape for any
behind it, but at least there was entrance free to Anthony's cell.
The next moment she was within the miserable place, faintly lighted
by the small lantern Arthur had brought, and with a cry she flung
herself upon her knees beside the pallet bed on which Dalaber lay,
and called him by his name. Arthur meanwhile stood sentry without
the door.
"Freda, my love!" he cried, bewildered at sight of her, and with
the fever mists clouding his brain.
"Anthony, Anthony, thou must not die! Thou must live, and do some
great good for the world in days to come. Do not die, my beloved.
It would break mine heart. Live for my sake, and for God's truth.
Ah, I cannot let thee go!"
He partly understood and kissed her hand, gazing at her with hungry
eyes.
"I would fain live, if they will let me," he answered. "I will live
for thy sweet sake."
She bent and kissed him on the brow. But she might not tarry
longer. The sound of the bolt was already heard, and she stood
suddenly up, and went forward.
"I will live for thy sake, sweetheart!" he whispered; and she waved
her hand and hurried out, with tears gushing from her eyes.