This is third post of a series on the historical novel Come Rack! Come Rope! by Robert Hugh Benson.
You
can find Post #1 here.
Post
#2 here.
Part 2, Chapters 1 thru 5
Summary
Two years have passed and Robin has been to Rheims for seminary. Marjorie’s father has passed away and her estate has become a harbor for priests. Babington comes to her to tell her of eight or nine new priests coming to London. He tells her of a Fr. Ballard who goes by the name of Captain Fortescue. He entices her to come to London with his sister to meet him, and to meet Robin who will be joining him. She agrees.
Marjorie, Anthony Babington, and Alice, Babington’s sister arrive in London where Marjorie, a country girl, is mesmerized by the big city. They meet Fr. Edmund Campion, a heroic priest and charming man, who is unafraid to work under the noses of the anti-Catholics.
Fr. Campion shows Marjorie and Alice the famous sites of London. He takes them though the opposite path of the martyrs, from London Tower where they would be executed to the wharf to Westminster to the palace to St. Margret’s Church. At the Tower they get a glimpse of Richard Topcliffe, the torturer of the martyrs. They also catch a sight of Queen Elizabeth herself.
Finally there is a meeting where Marjorie is introduced to the priests that have come from France. Robin is also with them, as he is an assistant to Fr. Ballard, that is, Captain Fortescue. Marjorie and Robin have time to talk, and the sense now is that they have settled into their vocations. There is a discussion among the gathering of whether there should be a violent retaliation to the Catholic persecution, but Fr. Campion is decidedly against it. Anthony Babington is in silent disagreement. On Christmas Day, the priests depart for France.
A year later, Babington comes to Marjorie’s home to tell her of sad news: three priests have been hung in London, and one of them is Fr. Campion. He leaves her letters with the details. Meanwhile Marjorie’s mother is dying. She tries to get a priest for last rights but is unable before it is too late. Though no priest comes, she can feel the presence of Fr. Campion over her mother’s body. Fr. Simpson finally arrives late and she shares the news of the executions in London. Marjorie is more determined than ever to use her home as a place of resistance.
###
Frances
Commented:
Didn’t you think Benson’s descriptions of Edmund Campion and Queen Elizabeth were wonderful? Campion seemed alive to me, the charisma, the bravery.
Joseph
Added:
The whole journey to London was masterfully done. I actually looked up some pictures of the old St. Paul's Cathedral to get a better idea of the things that they would have seen going about the city in 1580 or thereabouts. I think the other thing that Msgr. Benson does incredibly well is to bring out the spiritual strain during this period, in addition to the social. When he describes how St. Paul's would have had First Vespers of Christmas and then Midnight Mass and people going in and out all night contrasted with its abandoned appearance under the control of Protestants, there's a kind of longing that is excited for that worship which sanctifies time instead of kind of nodding as it passes.
My
Reply:
Yes, I thought Benson did a superb job taking us through London through Marjorie’s eyes.
Peej
Commented:
Benson exemplifies Campion’s patriotism in these chapters as well, as any true saint loves his nation. He still loves the Queen; but God first, as St. Thomas More personified.
My
Reply:
Spot on Peej!
Frances
Commented:
Queen Elizabeth II died today [Sept. 8th]. One of her many titles was Defender of the Faith. What a difference between the two Elizabeths!
My Reply to Frances:
Hmm, QEII was the same faith as QEI. They were both Church of England. And while QEII did not persecute Catholics, a lot of water has gone under the bridge in 500 years. Now if QEII had converted to Catholicism, now that would have been a notable difference. ;)
Joseph
Added:
The titled Defensor Fidei was actually given to Henry VIII for his rebuttal of Luther. After he himself apostatized, parliament restored use of the title and it's been used by every English monarch since.
Frances
Replied:
Thank you, Joseph. What
an important detail!
Manny, everything you
wrote is accurate and significant, but I can’t imagine Elizabeth II approving
of drawing and quartering! She was a woman of integrity and unselfishness. I
was impressed to learn that at her coronation she pledged herself to Christ.
I’m sorry she didn’t convert to Catholicism, too, but neither did C.S. Lewis; yet they both were exemplary Christians. (I personally would like to see Lewis canonized; there must be a way. . . ) 😊
Look, I admired QEII’s
faith too but it’s easy in the 20th century of England to not hang, draw, and
quarter Catholics. Like I said, a lot has changed in 500 years. I just don’t
think the comparison - contrast in this case - with QEI is apt.
I will say that in
reading about QEII and Catholics she had a very good record. Here is one article.
Oh here is anotherarticle on QEII, this from Joanna Bogle, a well know Catholic blogger from
England. Bogle has been in EWTN frequently. Her article includes a prayer for
her soul from England’s Catholic bishops.
There are others.
###
The passage of these chapters I wish to highlight is the glimpse Marjorie has of Queen Elizabeth while making her way through London. It’s beautifully drawn and will echo later on in the novel with the glimpse of the other queen.
And then at last, she
caught a glimpse of the carriage, followed by ladies on grey horses; and forgot
all the rest.
This way and that she
craned her head, gripping the oak post by which she leaned, unconscious of all
except that she was to see her in whom England itself seemed to have been
incarnated—the woman who, as perhaps no other earthly sovereign in the world at
that time, or before her, had her people in a grasp that was not one of merely
regal power. Even far away in Derbyshire—even in the little country manor from
which the girl came, the aroma of that tremendous presence penetrated—of the
woman whom men loved to hail as the Virgin Queen, even though they might
question her virginity; the woman—”our Eliza,” as the priest had named her just
now—who had made so shrewd an act of faith in her people that they had
responded with an unreserved act of love. It was this woman, then, whom she was
about to see; the sister of Mary and Edward, the daughter of Henry and Anne
Boleyn, who had received her kingdom Catholic, and by her own mere might had
chosen to make it Protestant; the woman whose anointed hands were already red in
the blood of God’s servants, yet hands which men fainted as they kissed….
Then on a sudden, as
Elizabeth lifted her head this side and that, the girl saw her.
She was sitting in a low
carriage, raised on cushions, alone. Four tall horses drew her at a slow trot:
the wheels of the carriage were deep in mud, since she had driven for an hour
over the deep December roads; but this added rather to the splendour within.
But of this Marjorie remembered no more than an uncertain glimpse. The air was
thick with cries; from window after window waved hands; and, more than all, the
loyalty was real, and filled the air like brave music.
There, then, she sat,
smiling.
She was dressed in some
splendid stuff; jewels sparkled beneath her throat. Once a hand in an embroidered
glove rose to wave an answer to the roar of salute; and, as the carriage came
beneath, she raised her face. It was a thin face, sharply pear-shaped, ending
in a pointed chin; a tight mouth smiled at the corners; above her narrow eyes
and high brows rose a high forehead, surmounted by strands of auburn hair drawn
back tightly beneath the little head-dress. It was a strangely peaked face,
very clear-skinned, and resembled in some manner a mask. But the look of it was
as sharp as steel; like a slender rapier, fragile and thin, yet keen enough to
run a man through. The power of it, in a word, was out of all measure with the
slightness of the face…. Then the face dropped; and Marjorie watched the back
of the head bending this way and that, till the nodding heads that followed hid
it from sight.
Marjorie drew a deep
breath and turned. The faces of her friends were as pale and intent as her own.
Only the priest was as easy as ever.
“So that is our Eliza,”
he said.
Then he did a strange thing. He lifted his cap once more with grave seriousness. “God save her Grace!” he said. (pp. 115-116, Aeterna Press. Kindle Edition)
I love that one sentence paragraph, “Then on a sudden, as Elizabeth lifted her head this side and that, the girl saw her.” As a single sentence paragraph, it has incredible power, and Benson wants you to remember it. He will contrast the other queen’s head later on with this.
###
Part 2, Chapters 6 thru 10
Summary
One summer evening, Marjorie and her maid ride down to Padley, the property of the FitzHerberts. She meets with Mr. John FitzHerbert, his son Thomas, his son’s wife, and the family’s patriarch, old Sir Thomas. Joining them is a young man named Hugh Owen, who delivers a letter of introduction, He is a young carpenter who is skilled at constructing hiding places within homes. He constructs a hiding hole for future priests at Padley. On the next day, he constructs an extraordinary hiding closet that can fit two at Marjorie’s home.
Another year passes and Alice Babington has moved in with Marjorie since Anthony Babington is away. They hear news of more priests being executed. On a chance encounter Marjorie and Alice meet Mr. Audrey, and in the shock of the moment Marjorie falls off her horse and hurts her foot. Mr. Audrey helps her to his home and while there has a private conversation with her about Robin being a priest and about a threat to her friends the FitzHerberts.
Shortly there is news that Mr. Thomas FitzHerbert has been imprisoned and that Topcliffe had come to Derby to personally prosecute Thomas. Marjorie, Alice, and Mrs. FitzHerbert learn the details of Thomas’s imprisonment. Marjorie employs a lawyers, William Bassett and John Biddell, to defend Thomas and investigate the situation. Bassett, a kinsman of Thomas, is confident that Thomas will not betray his fellow Catholics.
Marjorie and Mrs. Thomas are told they can visit Thomas in the prison. They are allowed into Thomas’s jail room where they see he is gaunt and disheveled. Thomas implores his wife to pay the jailer a bribe to ease his conditions. When Mrs. Thomas leaves to do so, Thomas, alone with Marjorie, tells her he cannot bear it any longer in jail.
A fortnight later, Biddell visits Marjorie to tell her he has heard rumors of Thomas giving in to Topcliffe and apostatizing. He has heard rumors that Thomas will sell Padley to Topcliffe in exchange for his freedom and his cooperation against the Catholics. Marjorie will not believe it without evidence. Biddell sends his clerk to snoop at Topcliffe’s home where he is able to copy a document showing Thomas will sell Padley to Topcliffe and become a spy for the Queen.
###
Celia
Commented:
I am reading this book
and it has caused so much food for thought. Taught me alot as well about how
sinister Elizabeth I was in her treatment of Catholics.
I am also reading Voyage of Mercy: The USS Jamestown, the
Irish Famine, and the Remarkable Story of America's First Humanitarian Mission
which describes the Irish Potato Famine.
I wish to share this
relevant quote about one of the causes of the Famine:
"The Irish people’s
almost universal dependence on the potato had as much to do with anti-Catholic
bigotry as it did with the vegetable’s high yield per acre, its rich supply of
vitamins and other nutrients, the minimal care it required during planting and growing,
and the numerous ways it could be cooked and eaten."
"Crowned as William III, the new king introduced in 1695 the Penal Laws, which banned all public practices of the Roman Catholic religion, stripped the huge Catholic majority in Ireland of their wealth, position, homes, and estates, and rendered most Catholics penniless. Catholics were barred from purchasing land, Catholic schools were closed, churches were shuttered, and no Catholic could vote, hold office, practice law, serve in the army, or carry a sword or gun."
My
Reply:
Very good point Celia. The conversion of England to Protestantism had many negative effects on her territory and nearby.
Celia
Commented:
TY Manny.
Back to the book - our
book!!
Events in this section are so upsetting. Another man apostasizing and becoming a spy for the Queen? I am appalled but hope that I would not do the same.
Kerstin
Replied:
I think it is very hard to imagine what one would do under such circumstances. The pressure was very hard and the consequences dire. If you could ride it out under the radar that was one thing, but if you were part of a prominent family with much to loose and you had to choose sides, that was quite another. The overruling power didn't give you any leeway.
My Reply:
It's not just then. Christians in Africa and Muslim countries face huge persecutions today for their faith. Who knows, even in in this country we may experience a persecution. The media refuses to report all the Catholic Churches than have been vandalized.
###
The
passage I highlight in these chapters is the extended dialogue between Marjorie
and Robin’s father, Mr. Audrey. The
situation is that Marjorie has hurt her foot while out on horseback and Mr.
Audrey comes along to help her. I
believe here they are at Mr. Audrey’s home and that Mr. Audrey has two issues
for her.
“I will begin with the
second first. It is of my son Robin: I wish to know what news you have of him.
He hath not written to me this six months back. And I hear that letters
sometimes come to you from him.”
Marjorie hesitated.
“He is very well, so far
as I know,” she said.
“And when is he to be
made priest?” he demanded sharply.
Marjorie drew a breath to
give herself time; she knew that she must not answer this; and did not know how
to say so with civility.
“If he has not told you
himself, sir,” she said, “I cannot.”
The old man’s face
twitched; but he kept his manners. “I understand you, mistress….” But then his
wrath overcame him. “But he must understand he will have no mercy from me, if
he comes my way. I am a magistrate, now, mistress, and—”
A thought like an
inspiration came to the girl; and she interrupted; for she longed to penetrate
this man’s armour.
“Perhaps that was why he
did not tell you when he was to be made priest,” she said.
The other seemed taken
aback.
“Why, but—”
“He did not wish to think
that his father would be untrue to his new commission,” she said, trembling at
her boldness and yet exultant too; and taking no pains to keep the irony out of
her voice.
Again that fierce twitch
of the features went over the other’s face; and he stared straight at her with
narrowed eyes. Then a change again came over him; and he laughed, like barking,
yet not all unkindly.
Let
me break in here. We see now the
significance of Mr. Audrey’s anger at his son in the early chapters. He is in an internal conflict. Expediency has convinced him that it would be
best to convert to Protestantism, but he realizes his son is not one to follow
expediency. And he realizes events may
lead him to do something that will cause the harm or death of his own son. I don’t think any of the other characters in
the novel struggle with this deep a psychological tension. Let’s continue with the passage.
“You are very shrewd,
mistress. But I wonder what you will think of me when I tell you the second
matter, since you will tell me no more of the first.”
He shifted his position
in his chair, this time clasping both his hands together over the back.
“Well; it is this in a
word,” he said: “It is that you had best look to yourself, mistress. My lord
Shrewsbury even knows of it.”
“Of what, if you please?”
asked the girl, hoping she had not turned white.
“Why, of the priests that
come and go hereabouts! It is all known; and her Grace hath sent a message from
the Council—”
“What has this to do with
me?”
He laughed again.
“Well; let us take your
neighbours at Padley. They will be in trouble if they do not look to their
goings. Mr. FitzHerbert—”
But again she interrupted
him. She was determined to know how much he knew. She had thought that she had
been discreet enough, and that no news had leaked out of her own entertaining
of priests; it was chiefly that discretion might be preserved that she had set
her hands to the work at all. With Padley so near it was thought that less
suspicion would be aroused. Her name had never yet come before the authorities,
so far as she knew.
“But what has all this to
do with me, sir?” she asked sharply. “It is true that I do not go to church,
and that I pay my fines when they are demanded: Are there new laws, then,
against the old faith?”
She spoke with something
of real bitterness. It was genuine enough; her only art lay in her not
concealing it; for she was determined to press her question home. And, in his
shrewd, compelling face, she read her answer even before his words gave it.
“Well, mistress; it was
not of you that I meant to speak—so much as of your friends. They are your
friends, not mine. And as your friends, I thought it to be a kindly action to
send them an advertisement. If they are not careful, there will be trouble.”
“At Padley?”
“At Padley, or elsewhere.
It is the persons that fall under the law, not places!”
“But, sir, you are a
magistrate; and—”
He sprang up, his face
aflame with real wrath.
“Yes, mistress; I am a
magistrate: the commission hath come at last, after six months’ waiting. But I
was friend to the FitzHerberts before ever I was a magistrate, and—”
Then she understood; and
her heart went out to him. She, too, stood up, catching at the table with a
hiss of pain as she threw her weight on the bruised foot. He made a movement
towards her; but she waved him aside.
“I beg your pardon, Mr.
Audrey, with all my heart. I had thought that you meant harm, perhaps, to my
friends and me. But now I see—”
“Not a word more! not a
word more!” he cried harshly, with a desperate kind of gesture. “I shall do my
duty none the less when the time comes—”
“Sir!” she cried out
suddenly. “For God’s sake do not speak of duty—there is another duty greater
than that. Mr. Audrey—”
He wheeled away from her,
with a movement she could not interpret. It might be uncontrolled anger or
misery, equally. And her heart went out to him in one great flood.
“Mr. Audrey. It is not
too late. Your son Robin—” Then he wheeled again; and his face was distorted
with emotion.
“Yes, my son Robin! my
son Robin!… How dare you speak of him to me?… Yes; that is it—my son Robin—my
son Robin!”
He dropped into the chair
again, and his face fell upon his clasped hands.
(pp. 147-149, Aeterna Press. Kindle Edition)
No comments:
Post a Comment