Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
[Illustration: "Master Clark hath chosen an over-bold messenger,"
said Wolsey.]
AT THE
"SIGN OF THE GOLDEN
FLEECE"
A Story of Reformation Days
BY
EMMA LESLIE,
Author of "Elsie's Scholarship,"
"For France and Freedom," &c.
London
GALL AND INGLIS, 25 PATERNOSTER SQUARE;
AND EDINBURGH.
PRINTED
AND BOUND BY
GALL AND INGLIS
LUTTON PLACE
EDINBURGH
Contents.
CHAP.
I. OXFORD FAIR
II. AT PATON HALL
III. FATHER AND SON
IV. FALLEN AMONG THIEVES
V. A LUCKY ESCAPE
VI. A CHANGE FOR MILES
VII. THE GREAT CARDINAL
VIII. LADY AUDREY
IX. THE MEETING WITH TYNDALE
X. AT THE CHURCH OF ST. DUNSTAN'S
XI. SIR THOMAS PATON
XII. DID HE LOVE HER?
XIII. CICELY GUILDFORD
XIV. AT THE PALACE OF PLACENTIA
XV. MILES TO THE RESCUE
XVI. BAFFLED
XVII. TOWN AND GOWN
XVIII. A VERY SECRET MARRIAGE
XIX. A DEPUTATION TO SIR MILES
XX. NOT READY FOR UTOPIA
XXI. AT OXFORD FAIR ONCE MORE
XXII. A PRECIOUS CARGO
XXIII. AFTER MANY DAYS
XXIV. AT GREENWICH
XXV. AT "THE SIGN OF THE GOLDEN FLEECE" ONCE MORE
XXVI. THE MAY-DAY SPORTS
XXVII. THE PRIOR OF ST. MARGARET'S
XXVIII. CONCLUSION
List of Illustrations.
"Master Clark hath chosen an over-bold messenger," said Wolsey.
As he spoke, the monk watched Miles closely.
"Madam, one of your novices has not taken her place with the rest,"
said Master Baldock.
"Is it—is it Sir Miles Paton at last!" exclaimed Master Monmouth.
Preface.
THE chief concern of this story is with the beginnings of our English
Testament. The Latin Vulgate was the only version of the Scriptures
known in Europe until the early part of the sixteenth century.
The sack of Constantinople by the Turks in 1453, and the break-up of
the old Greek Empire, had driven many learned Greeks to take refuge in
Italy, where they became teachers, not merely of their own language,
but of the subjects that had long been taught in the schools and
colleges of Constantinople.
But the key to these various branches of knowledge lay in the Greek
tongue, and this gradually became known at the different universities
of Europe, through those who learned it in Italy, and thus it became
the insignia of the new learning.
Among those who studied under the Greek masters in Italy was Erasmus,
a young Dutchman, who had been so disgusted with what he was compelled
to see and hear among the drunken, brutal monks, his companions in
the monastery where he was a novice, that he was glad to leave and
become secretary to the Bishop of Cambray. He had already distinguished
himself as a Latin scholar but the Greek tongue opened a new world of
learning, which he was not slow to conquer.
He became a tutor at the University of Paris, and had several English
pupils, through whose influence he came to Oxford, where he met another
famous Greek scholar, Grocyn, who was most anxious that the new
language and learning should be extended in England.
A little later Erasmus became a lecturer on Greek at Cambridge, while
at the same time he laboured industriously at the work of translating
the ancient Greek authors into modern Greek or Latin.
At last he gave the world the New Testament in Greek and Latin, that
men might judge for themselves in the matter of priestly pretensions
founded on the Vulgate. It was essentially a book for the learned, but
prepared the way for that which was to follow—the English New Testament.
Going back to the original fount of knowledge, it soon became apparent
to the seekers after truth in this direction, that the Latin Vulgate
had been adapted to give authority to the corrupt doctrines of the
Romish Church, and so this Greek New Testament everywhere created a
ferment in men's minds, for while some saw in it the light of God's
truth revealed to men, others saw only a danger to the Church and the
established order of things in general. These defenders of the old
order chose to call themselves "Trojans" in Oxford, as opposed to the
"Greeks," or followers of the new language and learning.
It is curious to note that the Vulgate itself had its origin in a
desire for reform, similar to that which prompted Erasmus to translate
the New Testament direct from the Greek language. In the year 385,
Jerome commenced the translation of the Scriptures from the Hebrew
into the Latin tongue, because he found that the Itala, or version in
general use, contained so many inaccuracies when compared with the
original MSS. The new translation, however, was not received by the
Church with any degree of thankfulness, and even St. Augustine himself
viewed it with suspicion, and was inclined to join in the cry of heresy
taken up against Jerome; and it was not until two hundred years had
elapsed, that it became the recognised version of the Christian Church,
for many still clung to the old Itala version which it had superseded.
It can be easily understood that copyists of Jerome's version, who
still preferred the meaning given in the Itala, could introduce some
of these renderings from time to time, so that at last it was deemed
advisable about the eleventh century to have this translation of
Jerome's revised, owing to these and other causes.
This new revision was undertaken by the Archbishops and Cardinals, but
by the time our story begins, whatever its original purity may have
been, it was so manipulated by its copyists as to give authority to
every corrupt doctrine and belief in the Church of Rome; and these were
all intended to give power to the priests and monks, to hold men's
minds and consciences in bondage. It was carefully instilled into
the people that the Scriptures was a dangerous book in the hands of
the laity, or common people, and therefore must only be read with an
approved commentary, written by a priest, or received from the mouths
of the clergy with such comments and explanations as they might deem
necessary to impart.
This being the condition of things in England, and all over the
Continent of Europe at the dawn of the Reformation, it can be easily
understood what a stir was created by the new translation of Erasmus,
while the publication of the Scriptures in English would arouse alike
the fear and hatred of bishops, priests, and monks, to say nothing of
those whose trade or interests were also threatened by the reform of
old abuses and corrupt practices. By the introduction of a simpler mode
of worship, and the abolition of Masses for the dead, which was such a
fruitful source of gain, not merely to the clergy themselves, but to
the various trades who profited by supplying candles and trappings.
These were deemed necessary to purge away the sins of the departed, and
by this means widows and orphans were often reduced to poverty, if they
were rich, and to absolute starvation if they were poor, through the
cruel perversion of their love for the dear one, imposed upon them by
the Church of Rome and her clergy.
If my readers will bear these facts in mind, they will understand how
great an event in our history as a nation was the translation of the
Scriptures by Tyndale into the English language.
AT THE
SIGN OF THE GOLDEN FLEECE.
CHAPTER I.
OXFORD FAIR.
"WHAT d'ye lack? What d'ye lack? Here's Flemish cloth. Here's—"
"What d'ye lack?" screamed a louder voice. "Here's Sheffield knives."
But the cries of both pedlars were drowned in the increasing din, for
this was the first day of Oxford Autumn Fair, and the students from
the different colleges were pouring into the market-place, some to
buy cloth for winter doublets, or knives, or books, while others came
for the mere fun, and, after purchasing a few cakes or wastrel bread
for their midday meal, pushed and jostled and chaffed the crowd, and
were cuffed and joked in turn with merry laughter. But all at once a
cry arose above the general din of pedlars and buyers. "A Greek! a
Greek!" was shouted, and then another answering cry of defiance rang
out, "A Trojan! a Trojan!" while, as if by magic, sticks were suddenly
flourished, and angry words of defiance were bandied about, and the
wrathful cry, "A Greek! a Greek!" resounded from all points, to be
drowned the next moment in a louder shout, "A Trojan! a Trojan!" and
then the fight began.
The pedlars ceased to shout, and gathered their wares closer on the
stalls, and the townspeople sought refuge in tents or any place of
shelter at hand, for pedlars and people alike would have a sorry
time of it during the fray. So they drew closer together for mutual
protection, and left the more open spaces for the combatants, who used
sticks and missiles against each other without mercy, Trojans beating
Greeks, and Greeks belabouring Trojans.
"This all comes of the new learning," said one of the pedlars to
his neighbour, who was hastily gathering up his rolls of cloth and
replacing them on the mule's back, before the angry crowd should
stumble over them.
"The new learning?" repeated the other. "Why, where hast thou been the
last two years not to know what a stir it has made in the world, and
like to make more since these hot-headed lads have taken to fight over
it?"
As he spoke two of them came tearing through the fair, closely followed
by two or three others, flourishing stout sticks, without much regard
as to what or who was felled by their blows. As the cloth-merchant
was reached the cudgel of a pursuing Trojan struck down one of the
retreating Greeks, who had lost his weapon of defence.
The lad was stunned, and would have fallen under the legs of the mule
if he had not been rescued by the pedlar, for his assailant swept on in
search of the other Greek, and did not stop to see what mischief he had
done.
The lad groaned as he was dragged to the shelter of one of the stalls,
and they saw there was a deep cut on his forehead, but there was a
barber-surgeon close at hand, who had set up his tent here in the fair,
and the lad was carried to him to have the wound dressed, for he was
unconscious, and continued so until his friends came in search of him
an hour later.
The fight was over then. It had run its course, and Greeks and Trojans
were looking up their friends who had fallen in the fray. Several of
them lay here in the barber's tent, some with broken heads and various
wounds and bruises about their bodies, but one poor Greek it seemed had
broken his leg in falling.
"And all over this fellow Erasmus, who is no Englishman either," said
one.
"Aye, but he's worth fighting for," said the young Greek who had
been carried in by the pedlar; "if you could but read the Greek New
Testament of Erasmus, my masters, you would say a new light had dawned
for the world." *
The pedlar shrugged his shoulders and touched his forehead as he looked
significantly at the barber, but the lad saw it, and murmured faintly,
"I know what I am talking about. Is that you, Standish?" he said, as
another student pushed his way in.
* See Preface.
"Aye. What! are you hurt, Miles Paton? Where is the damage?" he asked.
"My head and my leg," replied his friend.
"I don't think it's broken now," said the barber, "but he can't stand."
"We'll carry him home," said the other, and he fetched a companion,
paid the few pence charged by the barber for dressing the wound on his
head, and then, lifting the patient in their arms, bore him through the
crowd to his college room, which was little more than a bare cell, with
a table and stool, chest and bed, and a few books.
They carried him through the streets as gently as they could, but
the fair had drawn many strangers into the town, and it was full of
bustling, jostling crowds, and the roadways at that time having no
proper footpath, they had to dodge horses and foot passengers as best
they could as they carried their friend from the fair.
The poor fellow was almost fainting with pain when they at last laid
him on the bed. The two friends looked at him helplessly for a minute
or two. "That barber said there was nothing amiss with your leg," said
one, as he noticed how white and drawn his face was.
"I suppose there ought not to be," said the patient, "but—" And then
the stout oak door was pushed open, and an elderly man said, in a
cheery voice, "Doth Master Miles Paton dwell here?"
In a moment the colour returned to the pale face of the lad on the bed,
and he tried to raise himself as he said, "Aye, aye, Roger. It is our
reeve," he said to his companions, "the one I was in search of when
they began the fray at the fair."
The man, who was dressed in a well-made leather jerkin, stepped to the
bedside, but he looked very much alarmed when he saw the pale face of
Miles; for the effort to sit up had cost the lad dearly, and he now lay
fainting on the hard straw pillow upon which he had fallen back.
His friends were scarcely less alarmed, as they explained to the
steward what had happened at the fair.
"And why should he call himself a Greek, and another lad a Trojan? Ye
all be English, I trow," said the man, sharply.
"Yes, yes, we are all English, but some of us are for the new learning,
and some would have things go on as they are. Miles now has got a Greek
New Testament which he reads every day, and so, of course, he is a
Greek, but there are just as many who say the new learning will bring
nothing but trouble, and turn things upside down at Oxford," said one
lad.
"Well, it is a pretty quarrel," said the steward, "but lads of twenty,
like my master there, might leave such questions for greybeards to
settle, and not seek to do it with cudgel and stones. Poor lad! poor
lad! as if there was not trouble enough before. How am I to get him
home to Woodstock?" he asked, looking at his friends, who were staring
helplessly at the fainting lad.
Miles Paton was a favourite among his companions, and the news that he
had been hurt in the fray at the fair had spread from one to another,
and now they began to arrive to make enquiries as to how the patient
was going on.
One of these young fellows, when he came into the little room and saw
how things were, dashed off at once to his own cell to fetch a cordial
to revive the exhausted patient. He had learned something of the
healing art from his uncle, who was a monk at the monastery where he
went to school; and under his care Miles soon began to revive. "It was
us Trojans who did it, I trow," he said, as he proceeded to examine his
friend's leg. "It is badly sprained, and he will have to stay here for
a month at least," said the young surgeon.
"Nay, but I want him to journey home with me to-morrow," said the
steward in some alarm. "I came to the fair for plenishings, but my
chief errand was to bid Master Paton here journey homeward with all
speed."
"But he could not ride on horseback, and he cannot walk; and since the
world was made there hath been no other fashion by which a man can move
from place to place," said the young surgeon.
"No!" slowly uttered one of the group. But at last it was proposed
that a duly qualified doctor should be fetched, and the young surgeon
volunteered to go for him and tell him the state of the case, that
he might bring such bandages and medicines with him that he would
be likely to require; and with him went several others, leaving the
steward alone with his master at last, and as soon as he saw this the
young fellow turned and looked at the elder man, and said, "What is it,
Roger? What hath happened? Is my father well?"
"Aye, he is well, and the Lady Jane, thy mother, too."
"Then I care not what the news may be. Tell it, Roger, I can bear it,
though I hope our little Margery is no worse."
"Nay, Mistress Margery is better, but a sore mischance bath befell thy
brother, Mr. John,—and —and—"
"A mischance to Jack? Why, he hath not been married a year!"
"Aye, the bridal marchpane hardly eaten before—" but there he stopped,
for Miles had grown deathly pale again, and he gave him some of the
medicine left by his friend to restore him.
"Don't say it, Roger," murmured the young fellow, feebly. "I quarreled
with Jack the last time I was at home, and it was over this new
learning too. Tell me he is only hurt a little, or ill a little, for we
loved each other, Roger, though he was the eldest, and the Hall and all
that belongs to it would go to him, and leave the rest of us poor."
But at this point the old man hid his face in his hands, and groaned.
"He suffered little pain, my master, less than you are suffering now;
and 'twas said if he lived he would ever be a helpless cripple, so we
may not wish him back," he moaned.
"Oh, Jack, Jack! my brother Jack! And is he really dead?" and, overcome
with grief, the lad burst into tears in spite of his twenty years and
the honours he had gained at the University. But he and the old family
retainer were by themselves, and by degrees he learned all about his
brother's accident, how he was thrown from his horse while riding after
a gang of thieves that had lately infested the neighbouring woods, and
how his young wife had come to the hall as soon as she heard of her
husband's death.
"My mother will comfort her," said the young fellow, "but who will
comfort my father?"
"Aye, there is none can do that but you, my master, and therefore am I
come hither to seek ye. It was my lady's last command, 'Bring the lad
back with you, Roger,' she said; and how shall I tell her of this fray,
and that you cannot come?"
"I must go," said Miles; "my wounds are nought, and—"
But the new doctor arrived at this point, and the steward told him
at once how needful it was that Miles should set off early the next
morning on his journey to Woodstock.
"It is not many miles," commented the doctor, and then he proceeded to
examine his leg, which was much swollen, and would keep him in bed a
month at least, the doctor said.
"Very well; I will stay in bed a month when I reach Woodstock,
but I cannot stay here another day. But, as I seem to be somewhat
chickenhearted with this pain, I will ask you to give me some elixir
that shall keep me steady on my horse until I reach Paton Hall, and
then I care not what they do with me," said Miles.
The doctor tried persuasions to turn him from his purpose, and then
tried to frighten him into obeying his directions, but it was all of
no use, and at last it was arranged that some of his friends should
come and see him off the next morning, and make what arrangements they
could with the saddle and stirrups for his comfort during the journey.
Two of them offered to stay with him through the night, and after some
persuasion the old reeve agreed to go to an inn to secure a night's
rest for himself, and look after the two servants he had brought with
him.
Miles and his friends slept but little during the night. He was going
to take his Greek New Testament home with him, and so his two visitors
sat up the greater part of the night reading it while they had the
chance, for they were only poor scholars, and unable to buy a copy
for themselves. Miles was going to leave his room and the rest of his
books in the charge of these two friends for the present, but he could
not spare his precious Testament, though he was leaving them the works
of Jerome translated by Erasmus, which was in itself a most notable
book, and, being dedicated to Warham, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and
greatly admired and recommended by him to other scholars, could not be
objected to by anybody.
But the priests and monks had already began to denounce this Greek
Testament, for it was altogether different from the Latin Vulgate,
which was the only translation hitherto known, and from which all
others had been copied.
But Erasmus had gone to the original Greek for his translation, and
he had based it on the literal meaning of the original text, without
any reference to any of the dogmas of the Church; and behold it was
altogether a new book, for Christ Himself was set in the place occupied
by the Church in the Vulgate, and the whole book was designed to call
men's minds from theologians to the Founder of Christianity Himself.
Christ was the central figure in this Greek Testament, and all the need
for mediæval superstitions and image worship seemed to fade away as the
vivid picture of the living Christ presented in this book grew upon
them, in this year 1520.
No wonder the lads looked at each other in wondering amazement as
they sat holding the book between them, and slowly reading the Greek
characters which were the key to open such divine knowledge to their
wondering eyes. One of the lads was to be a priest, and, after reading
one of the Gospel stories, he said, "I shall teach that it is no
longer needful to deck statues of the Lord Jesus Christ, for this is a
better way to worship Him than through any image of wax or wood, for
we can see into His very heart of love here in His tenderness for the
multitude of poor folk who followed Him hungry and footsore."
"Let us read on while we can," said his friend, for the further he read
the more eager was he to learn. And so they sat until their poor tallow
candle burnt itself out, and then stretched themselves on the floor to
get an hour's sleep before it was time to waken their friend and help
him to prepare for his journey.
They were up before it was quite daylight, and had roused Miles Paton
from his uneasy slumber, and proceeded to help him to get into his
clothes. As soon as his cloth doublet was fastened he asked for his
precious Testament. "There are a few old monkish books at Paton Hall,
but I shall sorely miss the life and stir the new learning bath brought
to Oxford, and my only light will be here," he said, as he securely
fastened his treasure close to his side.
They managed to carry him out to the college gates, which were just
being opened as they reached them, but a horse, with one of the family
servants in attendance, was already waiting outside, and they helped
Miles into the saddle, though it was evident that every movement was
agony to the lad.
It was a dull, grey morning, and anything more uninviting than the
streets of Oxford then presented cannot well be imagined. The road was
cut up into ruts and holes, and the horse had to be led by the servant,
so as to avoid these as much as possible to spare the rider pain. The
high-gabled houses, with their stories built to project one beyond the
other, left but a narrow space between them at the top, so that only a
narrow rift of sky could be seen from below, just enough to light up
the open sewer that streamed down the middle of the street. There were
no footpaths for passengers walking, but they had to do their best to
dodge the horses and laden mules, as well as to avoid having the refuse
of the houses and shops thrown over them as they passed, for all was
thrown into the street, which was thus plentifully spread with all
sorts of offal and refuse.
In some of the streets poles were stretched across from house to house,
and here the dyers and fullers hung their cloth to dry; and Miles had
to duck his head more than once as he rode towards the inn, to avoid a
slap in the face from the wet cloth flapping in the wind.
They found the reeve waiting for them at the door, with the welcome
news that breakfast was ready for them; they had not waited for the
regular college breakfast, and the morning air or the night's reading
had made two of the party hungry, though Miles declared he could not
eat more than a morsel of pasty and drink a horn of ale.
But the rest managed to clear the board in a very short time, for the
reeve was eager to set out on his journey, that they might reach home
safely before nightfall, and thus avoid meeting the bands of beggars
that roamed the country and usually plundered any unfortunate traveller
that might come in their way.
So they pushed on with all possible speed when the town was left
behind, but the rutty bridle path—for the road was little better—could
not be traversed very quickly, for Miles' horse had to be led, that he
might avoid stumbling, which would have caused his master such pain as
almost to unfit him for continuing the journey. This was not the only
peril of this main road to Oxford, for while the horses and baggage
mules stepped cautiously along, master and servants had to keep a sharp
eye on the trees and undergrowth of the surrounding wood, for thieves
and beggars found a convenient shelter in the tall bracken, and might
spring out upon them at any moment.