VIII.

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“As soon as I had taken a little refreshment and rest, I set out and went to a friend's house, where I kept still for a fortnight. Then knowing that I had left my friends in great distress, I proceeded to London to aid and comfort them. I got a safe lodging with a person of rank.55 A year ago it had been Father Southwell's abode, before his seizure and imprisonment in the Tower of London, where he now was. I wanted, however, to hire a house where I might be safe and unknown, and be free to treat with my friends; for I could not manage my business in a house that was not my own, especially in such a one as I then dwelt in. I had recourse to a servant of Father Garnett, named Little John,56 an excellent man and one well able to help me. He it was that used to make our hiding-places; in fact, he made the one to which I owed my safety. Thanks to his endeavours, I found a house well suited for my purpose, and settled with my landlord about the rent. Till the house was furnished, I hired a room in my landlord's own house.57 There I resolved to pass two or three nights in arranging my affairs, getting letters from my friends in distress, and writing back letters of comfort in return. Thus it was that the traitor got sent to the place, which [pg lviii] was only known to a small circle of friends. It was God's will that my hour should then come.

“One night, when Little John and I had to sleep in that room, the traitor had to bring a letter that needed an answer, and he left with the answer about ten o'clock. I had only come in about nine, sorely against the will of the lady, my entertainer, who was uncommonly earnest that I should not leave her house that night. Away went the traitor then, and gave information to the Priest-hunters both when and where he had left me. They got together a band, and came at midnight to the house, just as I had gone to sleep. Little John and I were both awakened by the noise outside. I guessed what it was, and told John to hide the letter received that night in the ashes where the fire had been. No sooner had he done so and got into bed again, than the noise which we had heard before seemed to travel up to our room. Then some men began knocking at the chamber-door, ready to break it in if it was not opened at once. There was no exit except by the door where our foes were; so I bade John get up and open the door. The room was at once filled with men, armed with swords and staves; and many more stood outside, who were not able to enter. Among the rest stood two pursuivants, one of whom knew me well, so there was no chance of my passing unknown.

“I got up and dressed, as I was bid. All my effects were searched, but without a single thing being found that could do harm to any man. My companion and I were then taken off to prison. By God's grace we did not feel distressed, nor did we show any token of fear. What I was most afraid of was, that they had seen me come out of that lady's house, and had tracked me to the room that I had hired; and so that the noble family that had harboured me would suffer on my account. But this fear was unfounded; for I learnt afterwards that the traitor had simply told them where he had left me, and there it was that they found me.

“The pursuivant who knew me, kept me in his house two nights; either because those who were to examine me were hindered from doing so on the first day, or (as it struck me afterwards) because they wished first to examine my companion, [pg lix] Little John. I noticed the first night, that the room where I was locked up was not far from the ground; and that it would be easy to let myself down from the window by tearing up the bedclothes and making a rope of them. I should have done so that very night, had I not heard some one stirring in the next room. I thought that he was put there to watch me, and so it turned out. However, I meant to carry out my plan the night after, if the watchman went away; but my keeper forestalled me; for to save the expense of a guard, he put irons on my arms, which prevented me from bringing my hands together and from separating them. Then in truth I was more at ease in mind, though less in body; for the thought of escape vanished, and there came in its place a feeling of joy that I had been vouchsafed this suffering for the sake of Christ, and I thanked the Lord for it as well as I could.

“Next day I was brought before the Commissioners, at the head of whom was one who is now Lord Chancellor of the realm.58 He had been a Catholic, but went over to the other side, for he loved the things of this world.

“They first asked me my name and calling. I gave them the name I passed by; whereupon one called me by my true name, and said that I was a Jesuit. As I was aware that the pursuivant knew me, I answered that I would be frank and open in everything that belonged to myself, but would say nothing that could affect others. So I told them my name and calling, to wit that, though most unworthy, I was a Priest of the Society of Jesus.

‘Who sent you into England?’ they asked.

‘The Superiors of the Society.’

‘To what end?’

‘To bring back stray souls to their Creator.’

‘No, no,’ said they; ‘you were sent for matters of State; and to lure people from the obedience of the Queen to the obedience of the Pope.’

[pg lx]

‘As for matters of State,’ I replied, ‘we are forbidden to have anything to say to them, as they do not belong to our Institute. This prohibition, indeed, extends to all the members of the Society; but on us Missioners it is particularly enjoined in a special instruction. As for the obedience due to the Queen and the Pope, each is to be obeyed in that wherein they have jurisdiction; and one obedience does not clash with the other, as England and all Christian realms have hitherto experienced.’

‘How long have you been doing duty as a Priest in this country?’

‘About six years.’

‘How, and where, did you land, and where have you lived since your landing?’

‘I cannot in conscience answer any of these questions,’ I replied, ‘especially the last, as it would bring mischief on others; so I crave pardon for not satisfying your wishes.’

‘Nay,’ said they, ‘it is just on these heads that we chiefly desire you to satisfy us, and we bid you in the Queen's name to do so.’

‘I honour the Queen,’ said I, ‘and will obey her and you in all that is lawful, but here you must hold me excused: for were I to mention any person or place where I have been lodged, the innocent would have to suffer, according to your laws, for the kind service they have done me. Such behaviour on my part would be against all justice and charity, and therefore I never will be guilty of it.’

‘You shall do so by force, if not by goodwill.’

‘I hope,’ I said, ‘by the grace of God, it shall not be as you say. I beg you, therefore, to take this my answer: that neither now nor at any other time will I disclose what you demand of me.’

“Thereupon they wrote a warrant for my imprisonment, and gave it to the pursuivants, bidding them take me to prison. As we were leaving, he who is now Chancellor said that I must be kept in close confinement, as in cases of high treason. ‘But tell the gaolers,’ he added, ‘to treat him well on account of his birth.’ It seems, however, that the head gaoler gave orders at variance with this humane recommendation: for I was lodged [pg lxi] in a garret,59 where there was nothing but a bed, and no room to stand up straight, except just where the bed was. There was one window always open, through which foul air entered and rain fell on to my bed. The room door was so low, that I had to enter, not on my feet, but on my knees, and even then I was forced to stoop. However, I reckoned this rather an advantage, inasmuch as it helped to keep out the stench (certainly no small one) that came from the privy close to my door, which was used by all the prisoners in that part of the house. I was often kept awake, or woke up, by the bad smell.

“In this place I passed two or three days of true repose. I felt no pain or anxiety of mind, and enjoyed, by the blessing of God, that peace which the world does not and cannot give.

“On the third or fourth day, I was taken for a second examination to the house of a magistrate called Young. He it was who had the management of all the searches and persecutions that the Catholics in the neighbourhood of London had to endure; and it was to him that the traitor had given his information. Along with him was another, who had for many years conducted the examination by torture, Topcliffe by name. He was a man of cruelty, athirst for the blood of the Catholics, and so crafty and cunning, that all the wily wit of his companion seemed abashed into silence by his presence; in fact, the Justice spoke very little during the whole examination. I found the two of them alone: Young in a civilian's dress, Topcliffe with a sword by his side and in a Court dress. He was an old man, grown grey in wickedness. Young began questioning me as to my place of abode, and the Catholics that I knew. I answered that I neither could nor would make disclosures that would get any one into trouble, for reasons already stated. He turned then to Topcliffe and said, ‘I told you how you would find him.’

“Topcliffe looked frowningly at me and said, ‘Do you know [pg lxii] me? I am Topcliffe, of whom I doubt not you have often heard.’

“He meant this to frighten me. To heighten the effect, he had laid his sword on the table near his hand, as though he were ready to use it on occasion. But he failed certainly, and caused me not the least alarm; and whereas I was wont to answer with deference on other occasions, this time I did quite the contrary, because I saw him making a show to scare me. Finding that he could get no other manner of reply from me than what I had given, he took a pen and wrote an artful and malicious form of examination.

‘Here,’ says he, ‘read this paper. I shall show it to the Privy Council, that they may see what a traitor you are to the realm, and how manifestly guilty.’

“The contents of the paper were as follows: ‘The examinate was sent by the Pope and the Jesuit Persons, and coming through Belgium there had interviews with the Jesuit Holt and Sir William Stanley; thence he came into England, on a political errand, to beguile the Queen's subjects, and lure them from their obedience to their Sovereign. If, therefore, he will not disclose the places and persons with whom he has lived, it is presumed that he has done much mischief to the State,’ &c.

“On reading this, I saw that I could not meet so many falsehoods with one single denial; and as I was desirous that he should show my way of answering to the Council, I said that I also wished to answer in writing. Hereat Topcliffe was overjoyed, and cried out, ‘Oh! now you are a reasonable man;’ but he was disappointed. He had hoped to catch me in my words, or at least to find out my handwriting, so that some of the papers found in the houses of the Catholics might be proved to be mine. I foresaw this, and therefore wrote in a feigned hand as follows: ‘I was sent by my Superiors. I never was in Belgium. I have not seen Father Holt since the time that I left Rome. I have not seen Sir William Stanley since he left England with the Earl of Leicester. I am forbidden to meddle with matters of State; I never have done, and never will do so. I have tried to bring back souls to the knowledge and love of their Creator, and to make them show obedience to the laws [pg lxiii] of God and man; and I hold this last point to be a matter of conscience. I humbly crave that my refusal to answer anything concerning the persons that I know, may not be set down to contempt of authority; seeing that God's commandment forces me to follow this course, and to act otherwise would be against justice and charity.’

“While I was writing this, the old man waxed wroth. He shook with passion, and would fain have snatched the paper from me.

‘If you don't want me to write the truth,’ said I, ‘I'll not write at all.’

‘Nay,’ quoth he, ‘write so-and-so, and I'll copy out what you have written.’

‘I shall write what I please,’ I answered, ‘and not what you please. Show what I have written to the Council, for I shall add nothing but my name.’

“This I signed so near the writing, that nothing could be put in between. The hot-tempered man, seeing himself disappointed, broke out into threats and blasphemies. ‘I'll get you put into my power, and hang you in the air, and show you no mercy; and then I shall see what God will rescue you out of my hands.’

“From the abundance of his heart he poured forth these evil words; but by this he raised my hopes, just the opposite effect to what he wanted.60 Neither then nor since have I ever reckoned aught of a blasphemer; and, in sooth, I have found by experience, that God increases the confidence of His servants, when He allows strife to rise up against them. I gave, therefore, this short answer: ‘You will be able to do nothing without the leave of God, Who never abandons those that hope in Him. The will of God be done.’

“Thereupon Young called the gaoler who had brought me, to take me back to prison. As he was leading me off, Topcliffe addressed him and bade him put irons on my legs. Both then [pg lxiv] fell a-chiding him for having brought me by himself, fearing perchance lest I should escape from his hands. When I had crept back to my little closet, my legs were garnished according to order. The man seemed grieved that put the fetters on. For my part, instead of grief I felt very much joy, such is God's goodness to the most unworthy of His creatures. To pay the man for the kind turn that he had done me, I gave him some money for his job; and told him it was no punishment to suffer in so good a cause.”

Father Garnett described this act of faith and courage in the following terms in a letter to the General of the Society, which we translate from the Italian: “This Father has always been very courageous, and when he was first taken, and the gaoler put very heavy irons on his legs, he gave him some money. The following day, the gaoler, thinking that if he took off the irons doubtless he would give him more, took them off, but got nothing. After some days he came to put them on again, and received a reward, and then taking them off did not get a farthing. They went on playing thus with one another several times, but at last the gaoler, seeing that he did not give him anything for taking off his irons, left him for a long time in confinement, so that the great toe of one foot was for almost two years in great danger of mortification. So your Reverence sees that in these times the courage of true Christian soldiers is not wanting. May our Lord give him perseverance, and to those who follow him the grace to imitate him.”61

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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