Chapter IX: The Meeting with Tyndale

THE sun was shining brightly one May morning on scattered groups of people gathered in the neighbourhood of York House to see the splendid cavalcade that would presently issue from its gates, for the great, but hated Cardinal, never went out but in almost royal state, and it might fairly be expected that to-day he would flaunt in the eyes of the people all those insignia of power which he knew so well how to use.

Whether the gaping crowds knew it or not, this was a notable day in the history of the English people. We are proud of our Cressy and Agincourt, but we have much more reason to be proud and thankful for the battle of this May-day. For eight years no parliament had been assembled; Wolsey hated parliaments, and saw in them the one real danger to the despotism which he and the King had settled should be fastened on the necks of the people. To secure this, Wolsey had done all he could to foster a policy of peace with other nations, but his own scheming had, against his will and wish, driven the King into war with France, and now money was wanted to carry it on.

He had tried another expedient the previous year to supply the deficiency, and, when Miles first took up the duties of his office, he found his work consisted for the most part in writing letters and answering protests from the different Commissioners, who had been sent into the different counties to assess the value of estates for the purpose of levying a forced loan to pay the cost of the French War.

Miles thought of his own home, and the deserted village and scattered tenants, and wondered how it would be possible to raise such a sum as the Cardinal demanded, in the present condition of the country.

Twenty thousand pounds had been exacted from London and its wealthier citizens, but the forced tax on the land had been a failure; and the Parliament had been summoned, not for the redress of grievances, but to supply the King with money for his costly little war.

In his capacity of Chancellor, Wolsey was going to meet the Commons, whom he so heartily despised, and it might be expected that he would go with a princely retinue; and so the villagers of Charing, a few citizens from London, and some from Westminster had come out to see the show.

In gorgeous robes of scarlet velvet and silk embroidery, emblazoned with jewels of priceless value, the Chancellor rode on a milk-white horse, whose trappings were as costly as his master's dress.

Two grooms in elegant livery led the horse; and the Chancellor was followed by half-a-dozen secretaries to write down whatever passed at the meeting; and these were followed by several hundred Knights and Noblemen, that these common people might see how he was supported by the Nobles of the land.

But whatever impression this display may have made on the assembled crowd was not evident, for they gazed in stolid silence on the splendour displayed before them—or they may have thought that a man possessed of such boundless wealth as Wolsey, could surely help the King out of his own fat revenue, without asking more taxes to be levied on poor people.

They, however, followed the Chancellor down to Westminster Hall, wondering what was passing within the walls of the House of Parliament.

Miles was one of the secretaries chosen to attend the Chancellor, he having proved himself a rapid and correct writer, and Wolsey, who was a diligent and clever man of business himself, was not slow to appreciate the skill of the young scrivener, whom he had commanded to take down every word spoken in reply to the demand he would make in his speech to the House of Commons.

Wolsey made his demand, and Miles and his fellow secretaries sat, with pen in hand, waiting to record the reply. But he and his master waited in vain. No member in the House rose to speak, and this dead silence made Wolsey more angry than the most violent opposition would have done. In vain he called upon member after member to speak; each and all sat dumb.

At last he turned to Sir Thomas More, the writer of "Utopia," who had been chosen Speaker of their Parliament, and demanded some word from him. But More fell on his knees (as he would have done to the King in person), and declared that he could not reply until he had received the instructions of the House, which still sat mute.

Finding he could do nothing, the proud Chancellor was obliged to withdraw to his own private room, and when he had gone tongues were loosened, and an angry debate began over the unconstitutional attempt to influence their decision.

The secretaries had been left at their table, and it was with keen delight that Miles recorded the brave words spoken in defence of English liberty, of which the House of Commons, with its power to grant or refuse subsidies, was the bulwark.

Nice reading this would be for the Cardinal, he thought, and he hoped this might teach him a salutary lesson before it was too late; for, in spite of his pride, ambition, and self-seeking, Wolsey possessed many admirable qualities which Miles could appreciate, and which he wished others could know of too, but which the man's pride would not let him show to any but those who were brought into immediate contact with him.

The reports of some of the speeches having been taken to Wolsey, he returned to the House to answer the objections that had been raised, but this was an infringement of the Constitution, for he was not an elected member, and so he was again met with blank silence. And when at last the assembly broke up for that day, for the first time Wolsey must have felt that he was beaten by the common people whom he so heartily despised. For a fortnight this struggle went on, and then the Commons voted a sum of money that was about a fourth of what Wolsey had demanded. He had asked for a property tax of twenty per cent; the Commons authorised one of five per cent for two years, and beyond this they would not be moved either by King or Cardinal.

Miles was so rejoiced over this burst of sturdy independence, that he wrote home and told his father all he had seen and heard in this notable struggle for the rights of the people to the control of taxation.

This letter so pleased Sir Thomas that he wrote to his son once more, inviting him to pay them a visit whenever he could be spared from his duties.

This, however, was not likely at present, for although there were days now and then when Miles was free to do as he pleased, because his master was staying at Greenwich, or some other of the royal palaces, with the King, still there was no telling but he might be summoned to follow by special messenger, and so he seldom left his rooms in York House for more than a few hours, in case he should be wanted. Still, he was very pleased with his father's cordial letter, and sent to say that he would gladly visit them once more, but his duty and his fortune lay in London with the Cardinal now, yet whenever he should visit Oxford—which, it was expected, he would do—then Miles would certainly journey to Woodstock to visit his mother and sister once more.

He sent this letter by special messenger, who also carried presents to mother, father, and sister; and he sent a letter to Margery, asking her to tell him all the home news, and whether any further changes had been made in the estate.

Miles would have been pleased to pay a visit to his old home, but he was very happy in London now. He had made friends, both in the Cardinal's household and also among some of the wealthy citizens of London, and some of the King's household also, for, in his attendance on the Cardinal, he often went to one or other of the royal palaces, and so the Controller of the Royal Household, Sir Harry Guildford, often had to provide him with a lodging.

This was not always easy, especially when they had extra guests; for the Cardinal's retainers had many of them caught some of their master's pride, and would by no means be satisfied with anything short of the best.

But Miles had learned to carry out his New Testament lessons in the small details of every-day life, and so, seeing how troubled Sir Harry was sometimes to lodge all his guests suitably, he had come to the rescue one day by suggesting that a lodging should be found for him in some other wing of the palace than that claimed by the Cardinal and his attendants.

The gentleman looked at him as if scarcely able to credit his ears, and said, "Well if you will be content to lodge in mine own house to-night, I will see that all is made comfortable for you, and it will spare me some trouble and much grumbling, for I know not how to find suitable lodging for all here."

So Miles went and spent the evening with the Controller's family, and a very pleasant friendship was then commenced; and now, whenever he could spare the time, he was warmly welcomed at Greenwich. For he was specially drawn to Mistress Cicely Guildford as being like his sister Margery.

One day in the summer of this year—1523—he had gone down the river by barge with the Cardinal and a few of his gentlemen; but as he was not required to be in immediate attendance upon the Cardinal, he was going to spend the day with Sir Harry Guildford.

The Controller met him with more than his usual cordiality, as they met near the landing stairs of the Palace Garden. "You are very welcome to-day, Master Miles Paton," he said, "For I have a grave gentleman come to stay with me, recommended to my notice by my friend Sir John Walsh of Little Sodbury in Gloucestershire. Now he is said to be a great scholar in Greek, and I would have you see some of these productions of Master William Tyndale's, before I speak for him to the Bishop of London when he comes hither."

"Does he come from Oxford?" asked Miles eagerly, thinking he should hear some news of his beloved University.

"Nay, he hath been tutor to Sir John's family; but he hath some project in his mind in which he seeks the help of the Bishop, and my friend hath sent him to me to secure him a proper introduction, and I should like to know somewhat of his work, for my Greek and Latin are somewhat rusty, even if I had the time to read that which he hath brought with him."

So Miles promised to make the acquaintance of the stranger while he stayed with the Controller: and Sir Harry walked with him to his house and they made their way to the summer parlour, that opened into a cool garden walk, which they could reach through a wicket gate from the Royal garden.

Here Miles was introduced to a grave earnest-looking man, apparently between thirty and forty years of age, whose face lighted with a very pleasant smile as he took Miles' hand rather eagerly, and said: "Have I the pleasure of speaking to Master Miles Paton, who translated several of the Gospels into English for the use of friends?"

"Yes, I did that for my sister and others who could read English and could not read Greek."

"And your family live at Woodstock, or near Woodstock," he added.

"And you have come from Paton Hall, my father's home," said Miles, jumping to the conclusion that his sister had told him this.

"No!" said Master Tyndale, with a smile at the young fellow's eagerness, "I have never seen Paton Hall that I am aware of; but I made the acquaintance of Lady Audrey Paton when she was staying at Little Sodbury Hall last summer; and she had some portions of the Gospel of St. Matthew, which she said had been done into English by Master Miles Paton for his sister, and which she had copied for her own use while on a visit there."

"Ah! Lady Audrey is my brother's widow," said Miles. He could not help feeling disappointed that his hopes of hearing news from home had been so speedily dashed; and, for the first few minutes of the talk, he paid but small attention to what Tyndale said about Lady Audrey and her mother; but presently his ear caught a few words that made him look at the grave face eagerly and earnestly.

"I have come to London to translate the New Testament into English, and get it printed," he said.

"To translate the New Testament into English!" repeated Miles. "Do you mean the Greek New Testament of Erasmus?" he said.

"Yes; I mean to use that and the Latin translation as well—not the Vulgate, of course, for that has corrupted the Water of Life by man's inventions and doctrines."

"God bless you! and further your task with His favour," exclaimed Miles, eagerly, grasping the hand of his new friend, and shaking it again most vigorously, as he awoke from the disappointment that had seized him when he first heard that there was no news from home for him; for this that the stranger told was better even than tidings of Margery and his mother.

They had been left to themselves in the summer parlour, and now they sat down and talked over the project that had brought Master Tyndale to London; and Miles learned that it was his own efforts at translating the Word of God that had given the definite direction to what had now become the purpose of his life.

"The Bishop of London, Dr. Tunstall, is a learned man, I hear. My friend Sir John Walsh knew him and Dean Colet years ago, and he thinks it likely that the Bishop will give me a lodging in his house, and such help from books in his library as I may find needful for my task; and so he has commended me to Sir Harry Guildford to introduce me to the Bishop. What do you think of this plan?" he asked, seeing Miles looked serious.

"I would not tell all men what project you have in mind; my lord of London may be able to help a little, but he is cautious, and I think he would be afraid to help in anything that would put the Bible into the hands of the people."

"But he has helped forward the new learning—he was a great friend of Erasmus—he is not an ignorant bigot like some of the monks and preaching friars," said Tyndale, eagerly; for, from what he had heard from Sir John Walsh, he made sure that the Bishop would be quite as willing to help him as he had been to help Erasmus, if only he could be introduced to his notice by a duly accredited person.

Miles had seen and known a good deal about Dr. Tunstall, as well as other friends of the new learning, since he had been in the service of the Cardinal; and the conclusion he had arrived at was this: that in almost every instance these men were afraid of what the consequences would be if the Word of God was put into the hands of the people to be read in English, and the teaching of the Church compared with what they read there.

He had heard all sorts of discussions in his master's household upon this topic of making the new sources of learning available for the people themselves, and not merely for the rich and learned. In general the opinion was that it would be most dangerous to do this, and he gave William Tyndale the benefit of his experience, but at the same time said he would do all he could to further his plans, for he too desired to see the New Testament in the hands of the people, which, he held, would—if anything could—bring into existence More's "Utopia," which at present could only be a daydream, but could be made a reality if men would only learn to live and practice the Divine law,—to do to others as they could justly wish others should do to them if their places were reversed.

"I am afraid we cannot hope for that yet," said Tyndale, with a grave smile.

"Of course not. The first step towards it is not gained yet, for the people are in ignorance of this royal law, but when once they learn it—learn to live by it—all things will be changed."

"There will be no need of cardinals and priests to come between the soul and God," said Tyndale, "and I begin to perceive that this view of the matter may make Dr. Tunstall afraid to give his help to what might prove the lessening of his power over the bodies and souls of men; but, now that I have come hither, I will carry through what Sir John thought would be the best plan for attaining my end."

"And if it fails, some other door will open, and I will give you what poor help I can, though that may be little enough," said Miles.

The two spent a very pleasant evening with Sir Harry's family, and Lady Guildford was specially gracious to Master Tyndale, because she saw how cordially Miles had taken to him, and Miles was a great favourite of hers by this time.