"One case more I cannot pa.s.s over, which gave me especial pleasure for the sake of the person concerned; for I do not know that any one was ever more dear to me.

"Sir Everard Digby, of whom I have spoken above, had a friend for whom he felt a peculiar affection. He had often recommended him to me, and was anxious to give me an opportunity of making his acquaintance and gaining him over, if it possibly might be; but because he held an office in the Court, requiring daily attendance about the King's person, so that he could not be absent for long together, our desire was long delayed.

"At last Sir Everard met his friend, while we were both together in London; and he took an opportunity of asking him to come at a certain time to his chamber, to play at cards, for these are the books gentlemen in London study both night and day. He promised to come, and on his arrival he did not find a party at play, but only us two sitting and conversing very seriously; so Sir Everard asked him to sit down a little, until the rest should arrive. Then, in an interval of silence, Sir Everard said, 'We two were engaged in a very serious conversation, in fact, concerning religion. You know,' he said, addressing the visitor, 'that I am friendly to Catholics and to the Catholic faith; I was, nevertheless, disputing with this gentleman, who is a friend of mine, against the Catholic faith, in order to see what defence he could make; for he is an earnest Catholic, as I do not hesitate to tell you.' Then, turning to me, he begged me not to be vexed that he betrayed me to a stranger. 'And I must say,' he continued, 'he so well defended the Catholic faith that I could not answer him, and I am glad that you have come to help me.'

"The visitor was young and confident, and trusting in his own great abilities, expected to carry everything before him, so good was his cause and so lightly did he esteem me, as he afterwards confessed. So he began to allege many objections to the arguments before used. I waited with patience until he ceased speaking, and then answered in few words. He urged his points, and so we argued one against the other for a short hour's s.p.a.ce. Afterwards I began to explain my view more fully, and to confirm it with texts of Holy Scripture and pa.s.sages from the Fathers, and with such reasons as came to my mind. And I felt, as I often did, G.o.d supplying me words as I spoke on His behalf in great might, not for the sake of me that spoke, nor for any desert of mine, but just as He gives milk to a mother when she has an infant who needs to be fed with milk. My young friend was of a docile nature, and could no way bear to speak against the truth when he saw it; so that he listened in silence, and G.o.d was meantime speaking to his heart with a voice far more powerful and efficacious. G.o.d, too, gave him ears to hear, so that the word fell not upon stony ground, nor among thorns, but into good soil, yea, very good, that yielded by G.o.d's grace a hundred-fold in its season. So before he left, he was fully resolved to become a Catholic, and took with him a book to a.s.sist him in preparing for a good confession, which he made before a week had pa.s.sed. And from that time it was not enough for him to walk in the ordinary path of G.o.d's commandments, but G.o.d prepared him for higher things; and whatever counsels I gave him he received with eagerness, and retained not only in a faithful memory, but in a most ready will. He began to use the daily examination of conscience, and even learned the method of meditation, and made a meditation every day. He was forced to rise very early to do this before he went to the King, which in summer was at break of day, for the King went hunting every day, and he, by duty of his office, was necessarily present at the royal breakfast. He would, moreover, so with his whole soul devour pious books, that he always had one in his pocket; and in the King's Court and in the Presence-chamber, while courtiers and ladies were standing around, you might see him turn himself to a window, and there read a chapter of Thomas a Kempis'

_Imitation of Christ_, a book with which he was most intimate; and after he had read it, you might see him turn in body, but not in mind, towards the others, for there he would stand rapt in thought, while the rest perhaps were supposing that he was admiring the beauty of some lady, or thinking over the means to climb to great honours. In truth, he had no need to take particular pains about this, for, in the first place, he was son and brother to an Earl, and, moreover, the place and office which he filled were very honourable, giving him the ear of the King every day. His wit could not fail to distinguish favourable opportunities for gaining his requests, and, in fact, the King had given him an office which he afterwards sold, but which, had he kept it, would have brought him in more than ten thousand florins [1,000_l._] a year. In short, such was his position that he would undoubtedly have soon risen to great honours; for he made himself acceptable to all, and was not a little beloved, insomuch that after he had left the Court and given up all hope of worldly honour, I heard it said by some persons of the greatest eminence and experience in the ways of the Court, that they had never in forty years' s.p.a.ce known any one so highly valued and beloved in every quarter.

"But, what is far more important, he was beloved in the Court of the King of Kings, and inspired to desire and seek after greater and more abiding blessings. So he conceived the wish of trying the Spiritual Exercises, in the course of which he determined to desert the Court, and devote himself to those pursuits which would render him most pleasing to G.o.d and most profitable to his neighbour; so with as little delay as possible he made such a disposition of his goods as would enable him freely to make his escape from England. He then, to the surprise of all, asked and obtained the King's leave to go to Italy, where he still resides, and he is so well known to our Fathers that there is no need to write anything more concerning him; but this I can say, that wherever I have known him to have been, he has left men filled with great esteem for him, and expectation of yet greater things...."

"The conversions which took place in the country were not few, and some were cases of heads of families; but I have already gone to great length, and I will here recount one only, the beginning and end of which I saw to be good.

"There was a lady, a kinswoman of my hostess, whose husband had now many years been a Catholic, yet neither her husband, nor any of her friends, nor my hostess herself, who loved her as a sister, could ever lead her to become a Catholic. She did not object to listen to Catholics, even to Priests, and was fond of earnest argument with them; but she would believe no one but herself, and indeed her talents were greater than I have often met with in a woman. My hostess often mourned over this lady, and grieved that no remedy could be found; she wished that I should once see her. She spoke highly in praise of her talents and amiable disposition, and of her life and behaviour in all respects, with the one solitary exception of her being an obstinate heretic. I asked my hostess, therefore, to invite her to pay us a visit, although she lived in a distant county. She came according to the invitation, and we took care that she should find me showing myself in public, and dressed as though I had been a guest just arrived from London. On the first two days we did but little, for we knew that she would have plenty of time afterwards, and I wished to remove all timidity from her; for though she had been accustomed to meet Priests at that house, yet they had kept mostly to their chambers. But as soon as I judged her to be convinced that I was a Catholic, but not a Priest, I began slowly to turn my conversation with her often upon religion. At first I spoke little, but to such purpose that she could not answer me; and so I left her, not urging her, but rather leaving her with a desire to hear more. At length, after a few days, I judged her thoroughly prepared, and I arranged that my hostess should begin to talk seriously upon these topics, and that when she saw me enter into the conversation and carry it on, she should leave us in company with one or two of the lady's daughters, for she had brought three with her. This having been done, we began the combat with, as it seemed to her, various success, for one or two hours; and then she listened to me as I spoke without interruption for two or three hours more. She spoke little in answer, and did not like on the spot to acknowledge herself vanquished, but she thanked me heartily, and went away quite red and flushed in the face. She was truly moved, or, rather, changed interiorly, and straightway she ran to my hostess and said, 'Oh, cousin, what have you done?'

" 'What have I done?' replied the other.

" 'Oh, who is it,' she rejoined, 'that you introduced me to? Is he such a one as you represented to me? At any rate, he is,' ... and she spoke in much higher terms of my learning and language than I deserved, and she added that she could not resist what I urged, nor answer it.

"On the following day G.o.d confirmed what He had wrought in her, and she surrendered at discretion, and accepted a book to help her to prepare for confession. Meantime, with the mother's consent and a.s.sistance, I instructed her three daughters, and when they had learned the catechism, I heard their confessions. The mother, however, during the time of her preparation, began to be filled with trouble and sorrow, not on account of leaving her heresy, but through fear of confession. I, on the contrary, encouraged her to persevere, and adduced arguments against her timidity, but I could not rid her of it, and so, seeing that she was ready as far as examination was concerned, but nevertheless put the matter off from day to day, and begged a little more time to prepare, I would not consent. I told her that this came from the enemy, who grieved to leave his habitation, and at length she saw and acknowledged this. For as soon as out of obedience she had made her confession, she felt relieved of a great burden, and filled with consolation; and she told me that now she was glad not to have delayed longer.

"I have often found this, that some souls experience great trouble when first they make confession on being reconciled to the Church of G.o.d. Some persons even fall sick and faint, so as to be forced to cease speaking for a time and sit down, until they have recovered a little and are able to continue; and this has happened even when at their first coming they were in sound health, and ready to confess. And then when they recommenced, they again fell ill, and this happened two or three times in the course of their first confession. But when the confession was finished, they not only felt no sickness, but having received absolution, they went away full of joy and consolation. Some, in fact, have remarked to me, that did men but know what consolation is gained in confession, they would never be deprived of so great a happiness.

"Among these was to be reckoned this lady, who came forth from confession full of consolation, and gave most hearty thanks to her cousin, for that by her means she had been admitted to share in so great a happiness. So great was G.o.d's mercy towards her, that thenceforth she gave herself wholly up to devotion. On her return home she devoted herself to making handsome vestments, and, whenever she was able, she procured the company of Priests. And not content with this, she was anxious to return wholly to our house, and to dwell with us, in order to have more frequent access to the Sacraments, and the opportunity of hearing the public and private exhortations that we had every Sunday and Festival-day. She stayed with us about two years, and all that time she gave herself up to devotion and the constant reading of pious books. She was clearly led to this course of life by the special mercy and providence of G.o.d; for at the end of the period I have mentioned, although she seemed stout and strong, she was suddenly attacked with disease, by which, within a few days, she was so weakened, that no skill of the physicians could restore her strength. She was warned to prepare for the life to come, and she repeated a good and careful confession of her whole life.

"At length, finding herself in her last agony, she wished to write a letter to her brother, who was a heretic, and almost the greatest enemy the Catholics had in the county in which he dwelt. To him, then, she wished to send a letter, written by her daughter's hand, but subscribed with her own, to the following effect: That he knew she had long been a strenuous upholder of this new religion, so that he might be the more convinced that she would not have changed it without good grounds, and that she had certain and unanswerable authorities for the faith which she had adopted; wherefore she protested to him that ever since the time when she embraced the faith she had lived in peace of conscience, and that never before that time had she enjoyed true internal consolation; finally, she begged him to have a care of his soul, and proceeded thus: 'I, your sister, now at the point of death, by these my last words, beg and beseech you to embrace the Catholic and ancient faith; and I protest that there is no other in which you can be saved.' These were her sentiments when almost come into her last agony, from which I perceived that she was wholly converted from heresy, and full of charity towards her neighbour; so having asked her a few questions, and found that she was not troubled with any temptations of presumption or of despair, I gave her as much help as I could in forming and uttering acts of the opposite virtues. After which, when she was on the point of death, I offered her a picture of the Pa.s.sion of Christ, and she embraced and kissed it with the greatest affection. I put also a blessed medal into her hands, and reminded her to invoke the name of Jesus in her heart at least, in order to gain the indulgences, although she could not speak. I then asked her to give some sign to show that she did thus from her heart, whereupon she caught hold of the medal and kissed it, repeating this action several times. Observing she made answer to me by signs, I bade her conceive a great sorrow for ever having offended G.o.d, Who was so good in Himself, and had shown so great mercy to her, and to give a sign of it by raising her hand: she did so with great earnestness; then to conceive sorrow that she had ever been in heresy, and had resisted G.o.d and the Church, of which also she gave a sign; then to conceive the wish that all heretics might be converted, and that she willingly offered her life for their conversion, and she again made the signal with great earnestness, and also took my hand within her own, which were already chill, and held it firmly, repeating the signs that she was pleased with the suggestions I made to her. And I continued up to her last gasp, encouraging her, and exhorting her to praise G.o.d in her heart, to desire that all creatures should praise and serve Him, and to offer her life for this end. And she gave me answer to everything, now raising, now lowering her hand; just as I asked her to do in a.s.sent to what I suggested. All the by-standers, who were numerous, and a Priest also who was among them, were in great admiration, and declared that they never witnessed such a death as this. For she continued, as I have said, responding to my suggestions up to the very last breath, raising her hand slightly when she could no longer raise it much. In these interior acts she gave up her soul, without any trouble of mind or convulsion of body, but like one going off to sleep, she went to rest in peace.

"Her youngest daughter had already died holily in our house before her mother. The second daughter married a rich man, and brought him to me from a considerable distance to be made a Catholic. The eldest still lives in the same house, to be espoused not to man but to G.o.d, for she has a vocation to the Religious state. In the meantime she lives there religiously, and devotes herself to the service of Religious, as the lady of the house always did, and does still...."

"I gave the Spiritual Exercises in this house to many others, as well to those who formed part of the family as to others; and in each case the fruit which I hoped for was produced...."

"But suddenly all things were upset for a time, and all good hindered by the Powder Plot, as it is called. And if proof were wanting that I knew nothing of this affair, this alone would be sufficient, that at that very time I had sent several from England across the sea into these parts. One was a lady, who was going to be a Nun in the Benedictine Convent at Brussels, whither I had sent two others not long before, who are now in high authority there. Another had been an heretical minister, whom I had brought to the Faith and instructed. He was the last that I received into the Church before these disturbances. When these persons, with certain others, were on the point of crossing the Channel, orders were sent to allow no ships to leave; they were, consequently, all taken and thrown into prison, from which they were released two years ago. He who had been a minister is at present studying in the Roman College; and the lady of whom I spoke is now professed in the convent whither she was going when she was taken. Only one other minister besides the one just mentioned did I convert in England, and he is now a Priest and is working in that vineyard. I also sent over many youths to the Seminaries while I was in this last residence of mine, who will, by G.o.d's help, give fruit in due season.

"But if we have received good things from G.o.d's hands, why should we not also bear with evil things?-if those things can be truly called evil which are sent from Him, and therefore sent that He may draw good from them, for those who receive them well, and humbly recognize and adore His providence, both when He gives and when He takes away. He had, indeed, given me many and great consolations in this residence; interior consolations chiefly, from conversions and from the signal progress in virtue of many souls; but exterior consolations were not wanting. For in external matters everything was well and abundantly supplied me. I had several excellent horses for my missionary journeys, and all that I could wish for to carry on the work I had in hand. Then, in the house itself, the arrangements were made in the best way both for our health and our convenience. And for companion I had Father Strange, who is now in the Tower(123) (for Master Digby had obtained Father Percy from the Superior), and another Priest who resided a long time with us. We had, moreover, good store of useful books, which were kept in a library without any concealment, because they had the appearance of belonging to the young Baron, and of having been left him by his uncle,(124) who was a very learned and studious n.o.bleman, and was well known for his piety. He had, in fact, resigned the right and t.i.tle of the barony to his younger brother, the father of the present lord, in order that he might more entirely and securely devote himself to G.o.d and his studies. If he had lived a little longer, he would a.s.suredly have been a member of our Society, for on his death-bed this was the only thing that caused him regret, namely, that he could not then be admitted into the Society, a thing he desired most earnestly.

"Our vestments and altar furniture were both plentiful and costly. We had two sets for each colour which the Church uses; one for ordinary use, the other for Feast-days: some of these latter were embroidered with gold and pearls, and figured by well-skilled hands. We had six ma.s.sive silver candlesticks on the altar, besides those at the sides for the Elevation; the cruets were of silver also, as were the basin for the lavabo, the bell, and the thurible. There were, moreover, lamps hanging from silver chains, and a silver crucifix on the altar. For greater Festivals, however, I had a crucifix of gold, a foot in height, on the top of which was represented a pelican, while on the right arm of the cross was an eagle with expanded wings carrying on its back its young ones, who were also attempting to fly; on the left arm a phnix expiring in flames that it might leave an offspring after it; and at the foot was a hen with her chickens, gathering them under her wings. All this was made of wrought gold by a celebrated artist...."

"But I, who was not sufficiently grateful to G.o.d for these benefits which I have mentioned, and many others, was compelled to leave them to others who could use them better and to greater advantage.

"For since it was my chief friends who were involved in that disaster of the Powder Plot, the Council on this account believed me to be privy to it, and from the first sought for me with great persistence and severity.

They sent certain magistrates to search our house most exactly, with orders, if they found me not, to stay in the house till recalled, to post guards all round the house every night, and to have men on the watch both day and night at a distance of three miles from the house on every side, who were to apprehend all whom they did not know and bring them before the Justices. All this was done to the letter. But immediately the news reached us of such a plot having been discovered, and we learnt that certain of our friends had been killed and others taken, expecting that in such a season we, too, should have something to suffer, we had made all snug before they came, so that they found nothing. They continued searching, however, for many days, till at last my hostess discovered to the Justice in chief command one of the hiding-places in which a few books had been stowed away, thinking that he would then desist from searching any further, under the impression that if a Priest had been in the house he would have been hidden there, yet they continued in the house for full nine days; and I, meanwhile, remained shut up in a hole where I could sit, but not stand upright. This time, however, I did not suffer from hunger, for every night food was brought to me secretly; nay, after four or five days, when the rigour of the search was somewhat relaxed, my friends even took me out at night and warmed me at a fire, for it was wintry weather, just before Christmas-tide. And when nine days had pa.s.sed the searching party withdrew, believing it impossible I could be there so long without being discovered.

"In the meantime they had taken a Priest, who, knowing nothing of the watch set about the place, was coming to our house for safety. This good Priest (by name Thomas Laithwaite,(125) who is now of our Society, and is labouring in England) had left us a few days before at my request, when we heard of the Plot, in order to communicate with Father Garnett, and obtain from him for me instructions how to act in the present crisis. Even on his way thither he was taken, but escaped again for that time in the following manner. His captors took him to an inn, intending to bring him up for examination and committal the next day. On entering the inn he took off his cloak and sword and laid them on a bench; then, on pretence of looking after his horse and getting him taken to water, he went to the stable, and, as there was a stream near the house, he bade the boy lead the horse thither at once, and himself went along also. When they had come to the stream and the horse was drinking, 'Go,' said he to the lad, 'get ready the hay and the straw for his bed, and I will bring him back when he has drunk.' The boy returned to the stable without further thought, and he, mounting his horse, spurred him into the stream, and swam him to the opposite bank. Those in the inn, seeing his cloak and sword still lying there, had for some time no suspicion of his stratagem; but hearing from the stable-boy what had happened, they saw they had been outwitted, and immediately set off in pursuit. They were, however, too late, for the fugitive, knowing the way well, got to the house of a Catholic before night, and lay hid there for a few days. Then, finding that he could not get to Father Garnett, and thinking all danger had pa.s.sed in our direction, he tried to return to me. But while avoiding Charybdis he fell into the clutches of Scylla; for, as I said above, he was taken on his way to our house, and dragged to London. They were not able, however, to prove him a Priest, and his brother was allowed to buy him his freedom for a sum of money.

"Two other Priests who were resident with me in that house (one of whom, as I said before, was Father Strange), at the beginning of their troubles wished to go to Father Garnett and remain with him. Both of them, however, were taken prisoners on their way; one was thrown into Bridewell, and was afterwards banished, together with other Priests, while Father Strange, the other, was sent to the Tower, where he suffered much, as has been before mentioned."

XXVI.

"The history of the Plot, its causes and consequences, is but too well known; since it has been written by both friends and enemies, though perhaps by neither exactly as it ought to be. I myself, when I came from England to Rome, was ordered to put in writing an account of the whole affair, and did so as well as I could. There is no need, therefore, to repeat here what I wrote at length on that occasion...."(126)

"I will now add a few words about myself before closing this narrative. I have stated in the other treatise, of which I spoke, that a proclamation was issued against three Jesuit Fathers, of whom I was one; and, though the most unworthy, I was named first in the proclamation, whereas I was the subject of one, and far inferior in all respects to the other. All this, however, I solemnly protest, was utterly groundless; for I knew absolutely nothing of the Plot from any one whatsoever, not even under the seal of confession as the other two did; nor had I the slightest notion that any such scheme was entertained by any Catholic gentleman, until by public rumour news was brought us of its discovery, as it was to all others dwelling in that part of the country.

"When I saw by that long search of nine days that I was sought after and aimed at in particular, I wrote a public letter, as if to some friends, in which, by many arguments, and by protestations beyond all cavil, I maintained my entire innocence of the charges brought against me. Of this letter I caused many copies to be taken, and to be dropped about the London streets very early in the morning. These were found and read by many persons, and a copy was shown to the King by one of the Lords of Council, who was no enemy either of mine or of my cause. The King, as I heard, was personally satisfied by this. Afterwards, however, when information was given them of Father Garnett's hiding-place, and they conceived hopes of catching him, and of turning the whole charge on the Society, they thought it necessary to publish the names of some of ours as the princ.i.p.al contrivers of the Plot. So they put my name down, as well as those of the other two Fathers, of whom they had heard from a certain servant of Master Catesby. This man, however, before his death, repenting of this injury he had done them, confessed that he had been induced to say what he did of them against his conscience, by the fear of death on the one hand, and by the hope of pardon, and by the persuasions and suggestions of Secretary Cecil on the other. And it is possible that some persons at that time had a real suspicion that I was privy to the thing, because they knew that many of the gentlemen who had been taken were friends of mine, and were in the habit of visiting me at my London house.

This, indeed, was acknowledged by one of them in his examination, though at the same time he affirmed that I knew nothing of their scheme. Nor did they ever get a single word against me from any of their examinations.

Master Digby, indeed, who was known to be most intimate with me, and for that reason was most strictly examined about me, publicly protested in open court that he never dare mention a syllable of it to me, because I should never have permitted him to go on with it. When I heard of all this, and, besides, had learnt several particulars concerning Father Garnett, which proved that any knowledge he had was under seal of confession, and imparted to him by the only Priest of the Society who knew of it, and that also only in confession, it seemed to me that I was sufficiently cleared of the charge; and in order to bring this fact into notice, I prepared three letters to three Lords of the Council, a little before the death of the condemned conspirators, in which I showed more at full that I was completely ignorant of the whole matter, and pointed out how they might satisfy themselves of the same while those gentlemen were yet alive. Whether they did so or not, I do not know; but this much I know, that in the whole process of Father Garnett's trial, in which after the receipt of these letters they tried their utmost to defame the whole Society, and in particular to charge this Plot on the English mission, they never once mentioned me. They spoke, indeed, of three Fathers as guilty, but they named those two who had heard of it in confession, and Father Ouldcorne, not as privy to the Plot beforehand, but as an accomplice _post factum_.

"Nevertheless, I took the greatest precaution to remain hidden; and I lay at a place in London known to no one. So by the protection of G.o.d I continued safe, and if it had seemed good I could have remained so still longer. I did not, therefore, leave England to avoid being taken, but as in that great disturbance it was no time for labouring, but rather for keeping quiet, I took a favourable opportunity that presented itself of pa.s.sing over into these parts and reposing a little, that after so long a period of distracting work in all kinds of company, I might take breath and recover strength for future labours. Why, even at that very time when I was keeping so close, and when nearly all my friends were either in prison, or so upset that they could scarcely help themselves, much less me, though I had lost the house I had in London, through the fault of one who disclosed it, as I have said, and though strict watch was kept everywhere, and danger beset me on all sides; yet, before I had settled to leave England, I managed to hire another house in London very fit for my purpose, perhaps more so than the former. I managed also to furnish it with everything necessary, and made some good hiding-places in it; and there I remained in safety the whole of Lent before my departure. Besides this house I also hired another, finer and larger than this, which I intended should be in common between Father Antony Hoskins and me. This house after my departure was used by the Superior of the mission for a considerable time.

"The first of these last-mentioned houses I brought into some little danger, about the end of Lent, in order to rescue one of our Fathers from imminent danger. The thing happened in this wise. The good Father, by name Thomas Everett, had gone to a gentleman's house in London, where there were some false brethren, or else some talkative ones; for the fact reached the ears of the Council. And as he is something of my height, and has black hair, Cecil thought it was I of whom notice was given him, and said to a private friend of his, 'Now we shall have him,' naming me.

However, he had neither the one nor the other. For I, learning that the Father had gone to this place, where he could not possibly remain hidden, asked my friend, in whose house I had myself been concealed before I had procured and furnished my new abode, to fetch him and keep him close in his house for a time, which he did. Here he remained while the house he had just left was undergoing a strict search. Now it so happened that, after a few days, a search was also made in the very place to which he had been brought, on account of some books of Father Garnett's which had been seen, and which this gentleman used to keep for him. After rifling the place well and finding no one, for Father Everett had betaken himself to a hiding-place, they carried off the master and mistress of the house, and threw them into prison. Now when I heard this, and knew there was no Catholic left in the house, fearing lest the Father should either perish with hunger, or come forth to be taken, I sent persons from my own house, to whom I described the position of his hiding-place. They went thither, and called to him, and knocked at the place, for him to open it; he, however, would neither open nor answer, though they said that I had sent them for him. For, as he did not know their voices, he was afraid that this was a trick of the searchers, who sometimes pretend to depart, and then after a time return, and a.s.suming a friendly tone, go about the rooms, asking any who are hidden to come out, for that the searchers are all gone. The good Father suspected that this was the case now, and therefore made no answer. My messengers remained a long time trying to rea.s.sure him, and at last were obliged to return, but so late, that they fell into the hands of the watch. They were detained in custody that night, and got off with some difficulty the next day. One of them, however, was recognized as having formerly lived with a Catholic, and was therefore believed to be a Catholic himself, and as it was now known that he lived in the house that I had hired, this brought that house into suspicion, though it had been ostensibly hired by a schismatic, who was under no suspicion at all. The consequence was that some four days later the chief magistrate of London, who is called the mayor, came with a _posse_ of constables to search the house.

"In the meantime, hearing that Father Thomas would not answer, and knowing well that he was there, to prevent his perishing from starvation, I sent the next night another party with the man who had made the hiding-place and knew how to open it. The place was thus opened, and the good Father rescued from his perilous position. They brought him to my house, and there he remained. I myself, however, before he arrived, had gone to a friend's house, a very secure place, for the purpose of staying there a little, as I had some fears that the apprehension of my servants a day or two back might bring the searchers to my house. My fears were well founded: for on Holy Thursday, while Father Everett was saying Ma.s.s, and had just finished the Offertory, there was a great tumult and noise at the garden gate; and the mayor used such violence, and made such quick work of it, as to have entered the garden, and the house, and to be now actually mounting the stairs, just as the Father, all vested as he was, and with all the altar furniture bundled up, had entered his hiding-place. So near a matter was it, that the mayor and his company smelt the smoke of the extinguished candles, so that they made sure a Priest had been there, and were the more eager in their search. But of the three hiding-places in the house they did not find one. So they departed, taking with them those men whom they found in the house, and who acknowledged themselves to be Catholics, and the schismatic also who pa.s.sed for the house-holder. After this, having again released Father Everett from his hiding-hole and advised him to leave London, I determined not to use that house again for some time. And seeing that the times were such as called us rather to remain quiet, than to gird ourselves for work, I took the first opportunity of crossing the sea and coming into these parts.(127)

"I recommended my friends to different Fathers, asking them to have special care of them during my absence. As for my hostess," Mrs. Vaux, "she was brought to London after that long search for me, and strictly examined about me by the Lords of the Council; but she answered to everything so discreetly as to escape all blame. At last they produced a letter of hers to a certain relative, asking for the release of Father Strange and another, of whom I spoke before. This relative of hers was the chief man in the county in which they had been taken, and she thought she could by her intercession with him prevail for their release. But the treacherous man, who had often enough, so far as words went, offered to serve her in any way, proved the truth of our Lord's prophecy: 'A man's enemies shall be those of his own household;' for he immediately sent up her letter to the Council. They showed her, therefore, her own letter, and said to her, 'You see now that you are entirely at the King's mercy for life or death; so if you consent to tell us where Father Gerard is, you shall have your life.'

" 'I do not know where he is,' she answered; 'and if I did know, I would not tell you.'

"Then rose one of the lords who had been a former friend of hers, to accompany her to the door out of courtesy, and on the way said to her persuasively, 'Have pity on yourself and on your children, and say what is required of you, or otherwise you will certainly die.'

"To which she answered with a loud voice, 'Then, my lord, I will die.'

"This was said when the door had been opened, so that her servants who were waiting for her heard what she said, and all burst into weeping. But the Council only said this to terrify her, for they did not commit her to prison, but sent her to the house of a certain gentleman in the city, and after being held here in custody for a time, she was released, but on condition of remaining in London. And one of the princ.i.p.al Lords of the Council acknowledged to a friend that he had nothing against her except that she was a stout Papist, going ahead of others, and, as it were, a leader in evil.

"Immediately she was released from custody, knowing that I was then in London, quite forgetful of herself, she set about taking care of me, and provided all the furniture and other things necessary for my new house.

Moreover, she sent me whole sheets daily, recounting everything that occurred; and when she knew that I wished to cross the sea for a time, she bid me not spare expense, so that I secured a safe pa.s.sage, for that she would pay everything, though it should cost five thousand florins; and, in fact, she sent me at once a thousand florins [100_l._] for my journey. I left her in the care of Father Percy, who had already, as my companion, lived a long time at her house. There he still remains, and does much good. I went straight to Rome, and being sent back thence to these parts, was fixed at Louvain.

"I have received two signal benefits on the 3rd of May, through the intercession, as I think, of blessed Father Garnett, who went to Heaven on that day. The first was as follows: When I had come to the port where, according to agreement, I was to embark with certain high personages, in order to pa.s.s unchallenged out of England, they, out of fear, excused themselves from performing their promise. And in this mind they continued till the hour of the day fixed for embarking. Now just at that time Father Garnett's martyrdom was consummated in London, and he being received into Heaven remembered me upon earth; for the minds of those lords were so changed, that the Amba.s.sadors themselves came to fetch me, and with their own hands helped to dress me in Spanish costume, so that I might be taken for one of their suite, and so pa.s.s free. All went well, and I do not doubt that I owed it to Father Garnett's prayers.

"The other and greater benefit is that three years later, on the same 3rd of May, I was admitted into the body of the Society, by the four solemn vows,(128) though most unworthy. This I look upon as the greatest and most signal favour I have ever received, and it seems to me that G.o.d wished to show me that I owed this also to the prayers of Father Garnett, from an exact similarity in the circ.u.mstance of time between my profession and his martyrdom. For the day originally fixed for both had been the 1st of May, the Feast of the Holy Apostles SS. Philip and James, and in both cases unforeseen delays postponed the event till the 3rd of May.

"G.o.d grant that I may truly love and worthily carry the Cross of Jesus, that I may walk worthy of the vocation whereunto I am called. This one thing I have asked of our Lord, and this will I continue to ask, that I may dwell in the House of G.o.d all my days, until I begin to prove myself grateful for so great a favour, and that though hitherto unfruitful, yet by the fertility of the olive-tree in which I have been grafted, I may at length begin to bear some fruit!"

XXVII.

Here the Autobiography of Father Gerard ends. Though he survived his escape from England thirty-one years,(129) we have not much more to relate of the events of his life. We have, however, first a few notes to record on the concluding portion of the narrative.

First, with regard to the brave Elizabeth Vaux. She was re-arrested, long after the liberation of which Father Gerard has told us, for in a letter from Louvain to Father Aquaviva, the General of the Society, dated August 17, 1612, he gives the following account of her conduct, and that of her son, Lord Vaux, in prison. We translate from the Latin original.(130)

"Lord Vaux remains in prison under condemnation, but by no means cast down. He seems with invincible courage to trample on rather than to be deprived of the world, and not so much to have lost as to have contemned its goods. His praise certainly is in the mouths of all men. And his cause is so honourable to him, and to the Catholic religion, and so disgraceful to his enemies, that the King seemed to be ready to let the Baron go, and to restore him all his goods, when, G.o.d so disposing it, and preserving His servant for great things, some men making a more careful search than usual, found out that the mother of the Baron, who was herself under condemnation and in prison, but who retained all her fervour and devotion, had received a Priest into her cell on the very Feast of St. John Baptist.

When the officers entered, they found a good Father who had just completed the Holy Sacrifice, and was in the act of distributing the most holy Body of Christ to those who were a.s.sisting. Mrs. Vaux herself, and two others, had communicated. The Priest turned back to the altar, and quietly received the remaining Hosts, lest they should fall into sacrilegious hands. The first man who entered the room, seeing the altar well appointed, and all of them kneeling before the Blessed Sacrament, was astounded; and forgetting the fierceness with which, under similar circ.u.mstances, most people rush upon a Priest, only uttered these words: 'Has not your ladyship suffered enough already for this sort of thing?'

"The wonder is of old standing on the part of those who do not understand how blessed is the life that G.o.d will give to those who never change their fidelity to Him, and who, fearing G.o.d more than the King, even though they have but just escaped death, still wish to bury the dead. So our good Father Cornforth was taken: a very holy man, whose life well deserves recording. He was carried off to the pseudo-Prelate of Canterbury, and as he could not conceal his Priesthood on account of those with whom he was taken, so neither would he for his own safety's sake, hide his Religious state. So he was sent off to that prison from which they usually take their victims when they want an offering for the G.o.d of heresy. Canterbury then went to the King in all haste and fury, and putting fire to the cotton to raise a flame, so inflamed the King's mind against the Baron, that he seems to have diverted him from his inclination to set him free to the very reverse. But notwithstanding all this, as the Baron has those counsellors for him who are most powerful with the King, we all hope that the King will soon be pacified, and that all will end well for our friend, especially if your Paternity and yours will help him with your holy prayers."