For the Faith: A Story of the Young Pioneers of Reformation in Oxford

But to go back to the perils of Oxford to secure a secular dress seemed a far cry; yet, when the men proceeded to talk the matter over, they saw no other way by which such garb could be obtained. Neither had any money; and it might be dangerous for Garret to show himself at any town to purchase secular raiment there, even if he could beg money at a monastery for his journey. He thought he knew the place well enough to make the experiment, without too much risk either to himself or to others, and before he stretched himself upon the shepherd's bed of straw that night his mind was fully made up.

But upon the morrow he was forced to admit that one day's rest would be necessary before he could make the return journey. He was so stiff and exhausted by his long day's travel, and the tension of nerve which had preceded it, and his feet were so sore in places, that he decided to remain with the shepherd for another day and night; and then at dawn, upon the following morning, which would be Friday, he would start forth again, reach Oxford after dark, find some hiding place there for the night, and after making the needful change in his dress, and advising his friends of the change of his plan, he would start forth a free man once more by night, and instead of tying his hands by allying himself with any Papist parish priest, he would cross the water, find himself amongst friends there, and return later to his native shores, bringing with him stores of precious books, which should be distributed to eager purchasers as they had been before.

The hours of the day did not seem long to the tired traveller as he mused upon these things. The shepherd went about his daily toil, but often came indoors for a while to talk with his guest; and by the time the second night arrived, Garret was so far rested and refreshed that he had no doubt about making good his return journey upon the morrow, reckoning that by that time, at least, all hue and cry after him in Oxford would be over.

He slept soundly and dreamlessly through the night, and was awakened at dawn by the old man, who had made him the best breakfast his humble house could furnish, and waited lovingly upon him till he had satisfied his hunger and was ready to start upon his way. Then Garret embraced him as a brother, thanked him heartily for his hospitality, gave him the blessing the old man begged, receiving one in return.

He set his face joyfully towards the city from which he had fled, for it seemed to him as though he had fled thence somewhat unworthily-as though he had not shown a rightful trust in God. It was a rash step he was taking now, but somehow that thought excited in him no anxiety. He felt a great longing to see his friend Dalaber again, to explain matters afresh to him, and to start forth free from all trammels and disguises.

He was not, however, rash in exposing himself to recognition by the way, and kept to those secluded byways which had served him so well on his other journey. He scarcely saw a soul the whole of the long day of travel, and although he grew very weary and his feet again gave him pain, he plodded on with a light heart, and was rewarded just before the last of the daylight failed him by a glimpse of the distant towers and buildings of Oxford.

His heart yearned over the place when he saw it. It came upon him that here he would stay and abide the consequences. He felt strong to endure all that might be laid upon him. If it were God's pleasure that he should suffer in the cause, would He not give him strength to bear all? For a moment he forgot the peril which might come to others from his apprehension. He only felt that if the martyr's crown were indeed to be his (a thing of which he had a strong presentiment), it might well come soon as late. And therefore, when he reached the city at dark, he slipped into the town itself, instead of lurking outside, as first he had intended, and made his way through the dark, narrow streets to a certain humble lodging, which he had used before, when Dalaber had not been able to receive him.

He met not a creature on his way. He did not think his entrance had been marked as he passed through the gates. A thick, drizzling rain was falling, which had wet him to the skin, and which seemed to be keeping every one within doors. He found the door of his old lodging unlocked and the place empty, save for a little firing in a closet, which he soon kindled into a warming blaze.

He had bought food at midday in a hamlet through which he passed, and there was enough left in his wallet to provide him with a frugal supper. He dried his clothes at the friendly warmth of the fire, and though the room was destitute of bedding, there were a few sacks on the floor. Laying himself down upon these before the fire, he was soon plunged in a deep and dreamless slumber.

How long he slept he never could have guessed. He afterwards knew that it was midnight when he woke. What roused him was the sound of trampling feet on the stairs outside, and the voices of persons ascending. He lay for a few moments in the darkness, which the few smouldering embers of the dying fire scarcely served to illuminate; and then in a sudden access of alarm be sprang to his feet and made for the door.

If escape had been in his mind, he was too late. Already the door was burst open. A flood of light from a couple of lanterns dazzled his eyes for some moments, so that he could only see that several men were in the room, and a stern voice exclaimed, "That is the man! Seize him!" Then he knew that his hour had come, and that he was arrested.

Next minute he saw clearly, and found himself confronted by the proctors of the university, who regarded him with stern faces. Who had given them warning that Garret had returned to Oxford has never, I believe, been known-at least there is no mention of this made in the history of the known facts. But some person must have recognized the man, tracked him to his lair, and set the bulldogs of the cardinal upon him. He was taken at midnight upon the night of his secret return, and now stood a helpless prisoner in the hands of those set upon his track.

He looked at them with calm fearlessness. His spirit rose to the peril, and his mien was dauntless.

"Upon what charge am I arrested?" he asked quietly.

"You will hear that at the right time and in the right place," was the stern reply; "we are not here to bandy words with you. Put on your gown and hood, though you so little deserve such garb, and come whither you are led. Force will not be used unless you compel it."

Garret resumed the outer garments he had laid aside for the night, and pronounced himself ready to follow them whither they would.

"Take him to Lincoln College," spoke the senior proctor to his servants. "Dr. London will keep him in ward, and deal with him in the first place."

A slight smile passed over Garret's face. Dr. London of Lincoln was well known as one of the most bitter persecutors of the new opinions, and was reported to have stocks and other implements of punishment in a room in his house, which were used upon the recalcitrant and obstinate according to his pleasure. If he were to be Dr. London's prisoner, then farewell to any hopes of mercy.

Nevertheless he uttered no word as the men led him through the silent streets. The rain had ceased, and the moon was shining in the sky. The whole city seemed asleep as they hastened along.

But as they approached Lincoln College signs of life appeared. In the rector's house lights gleamed from several windows; and as Garret was pushed in at a side door, which was securely locked behind him, and led into a large, square hall, he saw the stern and frowning face of Dr. London gazing at him from the stairway, and a loud and masterful voice exclaimed:

"Take him into the strong room, and lock him up for the night. I will have speech with him upon the morrow."

Garret was led down a short, flagged passage, and thrust through an open door into a perfectly dark room. The door was closed, the bolt shot home, and he was left in silence and blackness to the company of his own thoughts.

Chapter IX: A Steadfast Spirit

The day which was spent by Thomas Garret in retracing his steps back to Oxford was passed not unhappily by Anthony Dalaber, who, after the lapse of two uneventful days, began to draw breath again, and make sure of the safety of his friend.

He had matters of his own which occupied much of his attention. The store of forbidden books brought to Oxford by Garret had been divided pretty equally between him and Radley; and Dalaber had contrived a very ingenious hiding place just outside his lodging room in St. Alban Hall, where, by removing some planking of the floor, a cavity in the wall had been carefully excavated, and the books secreted there, where it would be difficult for any to find them who had not the clue to the hiding place.

It was safer to hide them outside the chamber, as, if discovered, their presence would not incriminate any one-so Dalaber believed. Even Fitzjames, though sharing his lodging and some of his views, did not know where he kept his store of books. They formed such a dangerous possession that Dalaber spoke of them only to those who were heart and soul in the movement. And he decided not to remove them with his other belongings to Gloucester College, as he had no safe repository there to hold them, and it seemed to him that for the present the time had gone by for any work of distribution. It would he needful for the present to keep very quiet, until the suspicions which had evidently been aroused in the minds of the authorities should be laid to rest.

It was with a certain sense of relief that Dalaber definitely decided to quit the study of theology and divinity, and to throw himself into that of the law. Religious controversy had become suddenly distasteful to him. The Questions and other books of the theological faculty appeared to him futile and unsatisfactory. He had definitely resolved upon the secular life for himself; and although that did not mean that his convictions were shaken, or that his faith was in any way less precious to him, it gave to him a certain sense of elasticity and freedom of thought and spirit.

He could take Dr. Langton as his standard of what a man should be. He did not mix himself up with the burning and controverted questions of the day. He followed his studies in medicine and Greek. His house was a resort of learned men of all schools of thought. Free discussion was carried on there on all sorts of subjects. He favoured the liberality of mind which the church opposed; yet he did not embroil himself with the authorities, and led his own quiet scholarly life, respected and revered of all.

"That is the life for me," spoke Dalaber, as he looked round his new lodging, and admired the fashion in which his belongings had been set up there. "I will follow the secular calling, keeping my soul and spirit free to follow the promptings of the Spirit. Whenever I see the opportunity to strike a blow in the cause of freedom, may God give me strength to strike boldly and fearlessly; but I will not thrust myself forward into needless peril. Obedience has its place in the church as well as other virtues. I will not be untrue to my conscience or my convictions, but without good cause I will not embroil myself in these hot controversies and perilous matters. I have no quarrel with Holy Church, as Master Clarke expounds her, I would only see her cleansed and purged of her iniquity, shedding light-the light of God-upon the paths of her children. Perchance, as he says, if we prayed more for her-if we pleaded more with her in secret, interceding before God for her corruptions and unholiness-He Himself would cleanse and purge her, and fit her for her high and holy calling. Love is stronger than hate, for love is of God. I would seek more of that spirit of love which shines and abides so firm in Him. I have been in peril-I am sure of it-and the Lord has saved me from the mouth of the lion. Let me show my gratitude to Him not by falling away from the narrow path which leads to life everlasting, but by treading it in meekness and humility, in His strength rather than mine own."

Dalaber was not unconscious of the besetting faults and failings of his temperament-an impulsive self confidence, followed by moments of revolt and lassitude and discouragement. He knew that a quiet stability was the quality he lacked, and that the fire of enthusiasm and the revolt against abuses which blazed hot within him was not the holiest frame of mind in which to meet a crisis such as had lately threatened him. He knew that he might have been tempted to speak dangerous words, to rail against those in authority, and to bring deeper trouble upon himself in consequence.

The influence of the fiery Garret upon him was always of this character. Now that he had gone, Dalaber was able to review the situation much more calmly and quietly, and to see that the Lord and His apostles were not advocates of violence and disruption, that they inculcated reverence to governors, spiritual and temporal, as well as patience, long suffering, meekness, gentleness, and forbearance. The sword of the Spirit was not a carnal weapon. Its work was of a higher and holier nature. It might have to be drawn forth in battle; but it must be wielded in obedience, and not in irresponsible rebellion. Faithful steadfastness was asked of all God's children; but not all were called on to go forth as champions of even a righteous cause. Their duty might be to stand and wait for what the Lord would bid them do.

Dalaber had a strong conviction that alone, and acting upon his own impulses only, he would do harm rather than good. He was not the stuff of which leaders are made. He knelt down suddenly, and prayed for grace and guidance; and scarcely had he risen from his knees before a step upon the stairs and a knock at the door warned him of the approach of a visitor.

The next minute Arthur Cole stood before him. He was followed by a servant, who laid down a bulky parcel and departed.

"Ah, friend Dalaber," spoke Cole, with a kindly grip of the hand, "it was told me you were moving into fresh quarters here, and methought a few plenishings might not come amiss to your lodgings. You are something of an anchorite in your method of living, Anthony; but this chamber deserves a little adornment, if you are not averse to such."

So speaking, Arthur unfastened the package, and there was a soft skin rug to lay before the hearth, where a small fire of wood and fir cones was burning; a gaily striped quilt for the truckle bed covered it up and gave it an air of elegance; and a few books-in those days a costly and valued possession-completed the kindly bequest.

"They tell me you are to prosecute your studies in the law," he said, as he ranged the volumes beside Dalaber's own sparse collection on the shelf; "and since I have trodden the path before you, you are welcome to these volumes, which I seldom refer to now, and can always borrow from you if need should arise."

"You are a true friend, Arthur," answered Dalaber, much gratified and delighted. "I thank you heartily. You are a friend to all, and we owe you much. It is the more kindly and welcome because you are not one of us in other matters, and might very well have withdrawn from all companionship with those upon whom the wrath of the cardinal is like soon to fall."

"I would speak somewhat anent that same matter, Anthony," said Arthur, suddenly turning upon his friend, and signing him to take the seat opposite. "It is in some sort on that account I have come. But first tell me-is Thomas Garret safely away?"

Yes; on his way-"

"Nay, tell me not that. I have no wish to learn his whereabouts-only that he is safe outside the city, and not likely to be taken."

"He has been away these two days; and if not taken already, I trow he will escape altogether."

Arthur heaved a sigh of satisfaction and relief.

"I am right glad to hear that, Anthony-for your sake almost more than for his, since you are my friend."

"And why for my sake, Arthur?"

"Marry, thus that had Garret been found in the place, they would not have stopped short with laying hands upon him. They would have seized also those who had consorted with him. Not finding him, they begin to doubt whether the cardinal was right in tracing him hither, and whether he and his books have indeed been brought here. But let them once lay hands upon him, and not he alone, but also his comrades and associates, will stand in much peril. So have a care, friend Anthony."

Dalaber felt the thrill of what was half relief, half fear, run through him; but his glance did not quail.

"He is gone," he answered quietly, "and no man has sought to lay hands upon me."

"No, and right glad am I of it. I have spoken up for you as one of my friends, and a young man of promise and integrity. But I beg you to have a care for the future, Anthony, and especially during these Lenten weeks upon which we have just entered. For a strict watch will be kept over all suspected men; and if you are found with forbidden books in your possession-"

Arthur's eyes roved keenly round the pleasant chamber as he left his sentence unfinished.

"I have none here," answered Dalaber. "I have nothing but mine own little copy of the Gospels, which I carry ever on my own person. There are no books here to bring danger upon me or any."

"I am right glad to hear it, and I trust you will have no more to do with that perilous traffic. For sooner or later it will bring all men into trouble who mix themselves up with it. And for you who can read the Scriptures in the tongues in which they were written there is the less excuse. I warn you to have a care, friend Anthony, in your walk and conversation. I trust that the storm will pass by without breaking; but there is no telling. There is peril abroad, suspicion, anger, and distrust. A spark might fire a mighty blaze. The cardinal's warning and rebuke to the heads of colleges has wrought great consternation and anger. They are eager to purge themselves of the taint of heresy, and to clear themselves in his eyes."

"I misdoubt me they will ever succeed there," muttered Dalaber, with a slight smile. "Thought will not be chained."

"No; but men can think in silence and act with prudence," spoke Arthur, with a touch of sharpness in his tone. "I would that you thinkers, who stand in peril of being excommunicated as heretics, had a little more of the wisdom of the serpent which the Scriptures enjoin upon the devout."

"Excommunicated!" exclaimed Dalaber, and said no more.

To a devout young student, who had all his life through regularly attended the office of the Mass, and had communicated frequently, and prepared himself with confession and fasting and prayer, the idea of excommunication was terrible. That the Mass was overlaid and corrupted in some of its rites and ceremonies Dalaber and others were beginning openly to admit; but that it was based upon the one sacrifice of the atonement, and was showing forth the Lord's death according to His own command, none doubted for a moment; and to be debarred from sharing in that act of worship was not a thought easily to be contemplated.

Arthur saw his advantage and pressed it.

"Yes, my friend-excommunicated. That is the fate of those who mix themselves up in these matters, and draw down upon their heads the wrath of such men as the cardinal. Believe me, there is such a thing as straining at a gnat and swallowing a camel. And that is what you might chance to find you had done, were you cast out from the fold of the church for a few rash acts of ill-advised rebellion and disobedience, when all the while you might have lived in peace and safety, waiting till a better time shall come. If this movement is of God, will He not show it and fight for it Himself?"

"Yes; but He must use men in the strife, as He uses men in His Holy Church for their offices there. Yet, believe me, I do not desire strife. I would rather live at peace with all men. I have taken up a secular calling, that I may not be embroiled, and that I may be free to marry a wife when the time comes. Always shall I love and revere those who stand for truth and righteousness; always, I pray, shall I have strength to aid them when occasion serves: but I shall not embark on any crusade upon mine own account. You may make your mind easy on that score, my friend. I do not desire strife and controversy."

Arthur looked relieved, and smiled his approval.

"Then I trust that on your account, friend Anthony, my fears are needless. I would that I were not anxious also for our beloved friend and master, John Clarke."

"Is he in peril?" asked Dalaber, with a startled look. "He had no great dealings with Master Garret."

"No; and for that I am thankful. But there are other causes for fear. The cardinal wrote to the chancellor that he had been told how that Oxford was becoming deeply tainted with heresy, that Garret was selling his books by scores to the clerks and students and masters, and that teaching and lectures were being held contrary to the spirit of the church. This has stirred the hearts of the authorities deeply; they have been making close investigation, and have sent word back to the cardinal what they have found here."

"And what have they found?" asked Dalaber, breathlessly.

"I know not all; but mine uncle told me this much-that they have reported to the cardinal how that the very men chosen and sent by him to 'his most towardly college,' as they call it, are those amongst whom the 'unrighteous leaven' is working most freely, and they specially mention Clarke and Sumner and the singing man Radley as examples of danger to others. What will come of this letter God alone may tell. It has been dispatched, together with the intimation that Garret is not to be found in or near Oxford. We await in fear and trembling the cardinal's reply. Heaven grant that he do not order the arrest of our good friends and godly companions! I am no lover of heresy, as thou dost know, friend Anthony; but from Master Clarke's lips there have never fallen words save those of love and light and purity. To call him a heretic would bring disgrace upon the Church of Christ. Even mine uncle, to whom I spoke as much, said he had never heard aught but good spoken of these men."

Dalaber looked very anxious and troubled. The friends sat silent awhile, and then Arthur suddenly rose to his feet, saying:

"Let us go and see Master Clarke and have speech of him. I have not been able to get near to him alone since I knew of this matter-so many flock to his rooms for teaching or counsel. But let us to St. Frideswyde for evensong. He will certainly be in his place there, and afterwards he will accompany us, or let us accompany him, to his chamber, where we can talk of these things in peace. I have much that I would fain say to him."

"And for my part, I have promised to sing in the choir at the evensong service there as ofttimes as I can spare the time," said Dalaber, rising and throwing on his gown. "I have not seen Master Clarke these past two days. I would tell him of the safe escape of Master Garret; for the twain are sincere friends, and belong both to the brotherhood, though they agree not in all things, and have diverse views how the church is to be made more pure-"

"Peace, peace, good Anthony!" spoke Arthur, with a half laugh. "Thou must have a care how thou dost talk rank heresy, and to whom. Such words are safe enow with me; but they say that even walls have ears."

"It is my weakness that I speak too freely," answered Dalaber, who had already opened the door. "But in sooth I trow we are safe here, for yonder chamber belongs to the monk Robert Ferrar, who-But no matter. I will say no more. My tongue is something over fond of running away with me, when I am with friends."

Evensong at St. Frideswyde's was always a well-attended service. Although it was now the chapel of Cardinal College, the old name still clung to it. The cardinal had removed much of the former priory and chapel of St. Frideswyde to carry out the plans for his college; but though the collegiate buildings were called by his name, the chapel generally retained its older and more familiar title. The daily services were better performed there than in any other college chapel; and many men, like Dalaber himself, possessed of good voices, sang in the choir as often as their other duties permitted them.

Service over, the two friends passed out together, and waited for Clarke, who came quietly forth, his face alight with the shining of the Spirit, which was so noticeable in him after any religious exercise.