Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century

misdoubtedwith what strength we should meet them; but God is very merciful, andfitteth the back to the burthen. If at the time that Basil left me atfour of the clock to return to Euston, without any doubt on our mindsto meet the next day, I should have known how long a parting was athand, methinks all courage would have failed me. But hope workethpatience, and patience in return breedeth hope, and the while the soulis learning lessons of resignation, which at first would have seemedtoo hard. At the outset of this trouble, I expected he should havesoon been set at liberty on the payment of a fine; but I had forgot hewas now a poor man, well-nigh beggared by the loss of his inheritance.Mr. Swithin Wells, one of the best friends he and myself had--for,alas! good Mr. Roper had died during my absence--told me that, whenHubert heard of his brother's arrest, he fell into a great anguish ofmind, and dealt earnestly with his new patrons to procure his release,but with no effect. Then, in a letter which he sent him, he offered toremit unto him whatever moneys he desired out of his estates; butBasil steadfastly refused to receive from him so much as one penny,and to this day has persisted in this resolve. I have since seen theletter which he wrote to him on this occasion, in which thisresolution was expressed, but in no angry or contumelious terms,freely yielding him his entire forgiveness for his offence againsthim, if indeed any did exist, but such as was next to nothing incomparison of the offence toward God committed in the abandonment ofhis faith; and with all earnestness beseeching him to think seriouslyupon his present state, and to consider if the course he had taken,contrary to the breeding and education he had received, should tend tohis true honor, reputation, contentment of mind, and eternalsalvation. This he said he did plainly, for the discharge of his ownconscience, and the declaration of an abiding love for him.

  For the space of a year and two months he remained in prison atNorwich, Mr. Wells and Mr. Lacy furnishing him with assistance,without which he should have lacked the necessaries of life; leastwayssuch conveniences as made his sufferings tolerable. At the end of thattime, it may be by Hubert's or some other friend's efforts, a sentenceof banishment was passed upon him, and he went beyond seas. I wouldfain have then joined him, but it pleased not God it should be at thattime possible. Some moneys which were owing to him by a well-disposeddebtor he looked for to recover, but till that happened he had notmeans for his own subsistence, much less wherewith to support a wifein howsoever humble a fashion. Dr. Allen (now cardinal) invited him toRheims, and received him there with open arms. My father, during thelast years of his life, found in him a most dutiful and affectionateson, who closed his eyes with a true filial reverence. Our lovewaxed not for this long separation less ardent or less tender; onlymore patient, more exalted, more inwardly binding, now so much themore outwardly impeded. The greatest excellency I found in myself wasthe power of apprehending and the virtue of loving his. If his nameappear not so frequently in this my writing as it hath hitherto done,even as his visible presence was lacking in that portion of my lifewhich followed his departure, the thought of him never leaves me. If Ispeak of virtue in any one else, my mind turns to him, the mostperfect exemplar I have met with of self-forgetting goodness; if oflove, my heart recalls the perfect exchange of affection which dothlink his soul with mine; if of joy, the memory of that pure happinessI found in his society; if of sorrow, of the perpetual grief hisabsence did cause me; if of hope, the abiding anchor whereon I restedmine during the weary years of separation. Yea, when I do write thewords faith, honor, nobility, firmness, tenderness, then I think I amwriting my dear Basil's name.

  CHAPTER XXIII.

  The year which followed Basil's arrest, and during which he was in theprison at Norwich, I wholly spent in London; not with any successtouching the procuring of his release, as I had expected, but with aconstant hope thereof which had its fulfilment later, albeit not byany of the means I had looked to. I shared the while with Muriel thecare of her now aged and very infirm parents, taking her place at homewhen she went abroad on her charitable errands, or employed by her inthe like good works when my ability would serve. A time cometh in mostpersons' lives, when maturity doth supplant youthfulness. I say mostpersons, because I have noticed that there are some who never do seemto attain unto any maturity of mind, and do live and die with the samechildish spirit they had in youth. To others this change, albeit real,is scarcely perceptible, so gradual are its effects; but some again,either from a natural thoughtfulness, or by the influence ofcircumstances tending to sober in them the exuberance of spirits whichappertaineth to early age, do wax mature in disposition before theygrow old in years; and this befel me at that time. The eager temper,the intent desire and pursuit of enjoyment (of a good and innocentsort, I thank God) which had belonged to me till then, did so much andvisibly abate, that it caused me some astonishment to see myself sochanged. Joyful hours I have since known, happy days wherein mineheart hath been raised in adoring thankfulness to the Giver of allgood; but the color of my mind hath no more resembled that of formeryears, than the hues of the evening sky can be likened to the roseateflush of early morning. The joys have been tasted, the happinessrelished, but not with the same keenness as heretofore. Mine owntroubles, the crowning one of Basil's misfortune, and what I continuedthen to witness in others of mine own faith, wrought in me theseeffects. The life of a Catholic in England in these days must needs, Ithink, produce one of two frames of mind. Either he will harbor angrypassions, which religion reproves, which change a natural indignationinto an unchristian temper of hatred, and lead him into plots andtreasons; or else he becomes detached from the world, very quiet,given to prayer, ready to take at God's hands, and as from him atmen's also, sufferings of all kinds; and even those as yet removedfrom so great perfection learn to be still, and to bethink themselvesrather of the next world than of the present one, more than even goodpeople did in old tunes.

  The only friends I haunted at that time were Mr. and Mrs. SwithinWells. In the summer of that year I heard one day, when in theircompany, that Father Edmund Campion was soon to arrive in London.Father Parsons was then lodging at Master George Gilbert's house, andmuch talk was ministered touching this other priest's landing, and howhe should be conducted thither in safety. Bryan Lacy, Thomas James,and many others, took it by turns to watch at the landing-place wherehe was expected to disembark. Each evening Mr. Wells's friends camefor to hear news thereof. One day, when no tidings of it had yettranspired, and the company was leaving, Mr. James comes in, andhaving shut the door, and glanced round the room before speaking,says, with a smile,

  "What think you, sirs and ladies?"

  "Master Campion is arrived," cries Mistress Wells.

  "God be praised!" cries her husband, and all giving signs of joy dogather round Mr. James for to hear the manner of his landing.

  "Well," quoth he, "I had been pacing up and down the quay forwell-nigh five hours, when I discerned a boat, which (God only knowethwherefore) I straightway apprehended to be the one should bring MasterCampion. And when it reached the landing-place, beshrew me if I didnot at once see a man dressed in some kind of a merchant suit, which,from the marks I had of his features from Master Parsons, I made surewas the reverend father. So when he steps out of the boat I standclose to him, and in an audible voice, 'Good morrow, Edmund,' says I,which he hearing, turns round and looks me in the face. We both smileand shake hands, and I lead him at once to Master Gilbert's house. Oh,I promise you, it was with no small comfort to myself I brought thatwork to a safe ending. But now, sir," he continued, turning to Mr.Wells, "what think you of this? Nothing will serve Master Campion buta place must be immediately hired, and a spacious one also, for him tobegin at once to preach, for he saith he is here but for that purpose,and that he would not the pursuivants should catch him before he hathopened his lips in England; albeit, if God will grant him for thespace of one year to exercise his ministry in this realm, he is mostcontent to lay down his life afterward. And methinks he considersAlmighty God doth accept this bargain, and is in haste for to begin."

  "Hath Master Gilbert called his
friends together for to consider ofit?" asked Mr. Wells.

  "Yea," answered Mr. James. "Tomorrow, at ten of the clock, a meetingwill be held, not at his house, for greater security, but at MasterBrown's shop in Southwark, for this purpose, and he prayeth you toattend it, sir, and you, and you, and you," he continued, turning toBryan Lacy, William Gresham, Godfrey Fuljambe, Gervase Pierpoint, andPhilip and Charles Bassett, which were all present.

  The next day I heard from Mrs. Wells that my Lord Paget, at theinstigation of his friends which met at Mr. Brown's, had hired, in hisown name, Noel House, in the which one very large chamber should serveas a chapel, and that on the feast of St. Peter and St. Paul, whichfell on the coming Sunday, Father Campion would say mass there, andfor the first time preach. She said the chief Catholics in London