hadcombined for to send there, in the night, some vestments, someornaments for the altar, books, and all that should be needful fordivine worship. And the young noblemen and gentlemen which had been ather house the night before, and many others also, such as Lord Vaux,William and Richard Griffith, Arthur Cresswell, Charles Tilvey,Stephen Berkeley, James Hill, Thomas de Salisbury, Thomas Fitzherbert,Jerom Bellamy, Thomas Pound, Richard Stanyhurst, Thomas Abington, andCharles Arundel (this was one of the Queen's pages, but withal azealous Catholic), had joined themselves in a company, for toact, some as sacristans of this secret chapel, some as messengers, togo round and give notice of the preachments, and some as porters,which would be a very weighty office, for one unreliable personadmitted into that oratory should be the ruin of all concerned.
Muriel and I, with Mr. Wells, went at an early hour on the Sunday toNoel House. Master Philip Bassett was at the door. He smiled when hesaw us, and said he supposed he needed not to ask us for the password.The chamber into which we went was so large, and the altar so richlyadorned, that the like, I ween, had not been seen since the queen hadchanged the religion of the country.
Mass was said by Father Campion, and that noble company of devoutgentlemen aforementioned almost all communicated thereat, and manyothers beside, an ladies not a few. When mass was ended, and FatherCampion stood up for to begin his sermon, so deep a silence reigned inthat crowded assembly--for the chamber was more full than it couldwell hold--that a pin should have been heard to drop. Some thirstingfor to hear Catholic preaching, so rare in these days, some eager tolisten to the words of a man famous for his learning and parts, bothbefore and after his conversion, beyond any other in this country. Formine own part, methought his very countenance was a preachment. Whenhis eyes addressed themselves to heaven, it seemed as if they didverily see God, so piercing, so awed, so reverent was their gaze. Hetook for his text the words, "Thou art Peter, and on this rock I willbuild my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it."My whole soul was fastened on his words; and albeit I have had butscant occasion to compare one preacher with another, I do not think itshould be possible for a more pathetic and stirring eloquence to flowfrom human lips than his who that day gave God's message to asuffering and persecuted people. I had not taken mine eyes off hispale and glowing face not for so much as one instant, until, near theclose of his discourse, I chanced to turn them to a place almosthidden by the curtain of an altar, where some gentlemen were standing,concealing themselves from sight. Alas! in one instant the ferventglowing of my heart, the staid, rapt intentness with which I hadlistened, the heavenward lifting up of my soul, vanished as if avision of death had risen before me. I had seen Hubert Rookwood'sface, that face so like--oh, what anguish was that likeness to methen!--to my Basil's. No one but me could perceive him, he was so hidby the curtain; but where I sat it opened a little, and disclosed thestern, melancholy, beautiful visage of the apostate, the betrayer ofhis own brother, the author of our ruin, the destroyer of ourhappiness. I thank God that I first beheld him again in that holyplace, by the side of the altar whereon Jesus had lately descended,whilst the words of his servant were in mine ears, speaking of loveand patience. It was not hatred, God knoweth it, I then felt forBasil's brother, but only terror for all present, and for him also, ifperadventure he was there with an evil intent. Mine eyes were fixed asby a spell on his pale face, the while Father Campion's closing wordswere uttered, which spoke of St. Peter, of his crime and of hispenance, of his bitter tears and his burning love. "If," he cried,"there be one here present on whose soul doth lie the guilt of a likesin; one peradventure yet more guilty than Peter; one like Judas inhis crime; one like Judas in his despair--to him I say, There is mercyfor thee; there is hope for thee, there is heaven for thee, if thouwilt have it. Doom not thyself, and God will never doom thee." Theseor the like words (for memory doth ill serve me to recall the ferventadjurations of that apostolical man) he used; and, lo, I beheld tearsrunning down like rain from Hubert's eyes--an unchecked,vehement torrent which seemed to defy all restraint. How I blessedthose tears! what a yearning pity seized me for him who did shed them!How I longed to clasp his hand and to weep with him! I lost sight ofhim when the sermon was finished; but in the street, when wedeparted--which was done slowly and by degrees, for to avoid notice,four or five only going out at a time--I saw him on the other side ofthe pavement. Our eyes met; he stopped in a hesitating manner, and Ialso doubted what to do, for I thought Mistress Wells and Muriel wouldbe averse to speak to him. Then he rapidly crossed over, and said, ina whisper:
"Will you see me, Constance, if I come to you this evening?"
I pondered; I feared to quench, it might be, a good resolve, orprecipitate an evil one by a refusal; and building hopes of the formeron the tears I had seen him shed, I said:
"Yea, if you come as Basil's brother and mine."
He turned and walked hastily away.
Mistress Wells and Muriel asked me with some affright if it was Hubertwho had spoken to me, for they had scarce seen his face, although fromhis figure they had judged it was him; and when I told them he hadbeen at Noel House, "Then we are undone!" the one exclaimed; andMuriel said, "We must straightway apprise Mr. Wells thereof; but thereshould be hopes, I think, he came there in some good disposition."
"I think so too," I answered, and told them of the emotion which I hadnoticed in him at the close of the sermon, which comforted them not alittle. But he came not that evening; and Mr. Wells discovered thenext day that it was Thomas Fitzherbert, who had lately arrived inLondon, and was not privy to his late conformity, which had invitedhim to come to Noel House. Father Campion continued to preach once aday at the least, often twice, and sometimes thrice, and verymarvellous effects ensued. Each day greater crowds did seek admittancefor to hear him, and Noel House was as openly frequented as if it hadbeen a public church. Numbers of well-disposed Protestants came for tohear him, and it was bruited at the time that Lord Arundel had beenamongst them. He converted many of the best sort, beside younggentlemen students, and others of all conditions, which by day, andsome by night, sought to confer with him. I went to the preachments asoften as possible. We could scarce credit our eyes and ears, sosingular did it appear that one should dare to preach, and so many tolisten to Catholic doctrine, and to seek to be reconciled in the midstof so great dangers, and under the pressure of tyrannic laws. Everyday some newcomer was to be seen at Noel House, sometimes their facesconcealed under great hats, sometimes stationed behind curtains oropen doors for to escape observation.
After some weeks had thus passed, when I ceased to expect Hubertshould come, he one day asked to see me, and having sent for Kate, whowas then in the house, I did receive him. Her presence appearedgreatly to displease him, but he began to speak to me in Italian; andfirst he complained of Basil's pride, which would not suffer him toreceive any assistance from him who should be so willing to give it.
"Would you--" I said, and was about to add some cutting speech, but Iresolved to restrain myself and by no indiscreet words to harden hissoul against remorse, or perhaps endanger others. Then, after someother talking, he told me in a cunning manner, making his meaningclear, but not couching it in direct terms, that if I would conform tothe Protestant religion and marry him, Basil should be, he couldwarrant it, set at liberty, and he would make over to him more thanone-half of the income of his estates yearly, which, being done insecret, the law could not then touch him. I made no answer thereunto,but fixing mine eyes on him, said, in English:
"Hubert, what should be your opinion of the sermon on St. Peter andSt. Paul's Day?" He changed color. "Was it not," I said, "a movingone?" Biting his lip, he replied:
"I deny not the preacher's talent."
"O Hubert," I exclaimed, "fence not yourself with evasive answers. Iknow you believe as a Catholic."
"The devils believe," he answered.
"Hubert," I then said, with all the energy of my soul, "if you wouldnot miserably perish--if you would not lose your soul--promise me thisnight to
retrace your steps; to seek Father Campion and bereconciled." His lip quivered; methought I could almost see his goodangel on one side of him and a tempting fiend on the other. But thelast prevailed, for with a bitter sneer he said:
"Yea, willingly, fair saint, if you will marry me."
Kate, who till then had not much understood what had passed, criedout, "Fie, Hubert, fie on thee to tempt her to abandon Basil, and he aprisoner."
"Madam," he said, turning to her, "recusants should not be so bold intheir language. The laws of the land are transgressed in a very daringmanner now-a-days, and those who obey them taunted for the performanceof their duty to the queen and the country."
Oh, what a hard struggle it proved to be patient; to repress thevehement
Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century Page 83