The Jesuits, 1534-1921. Thomas J. Campbell

of his pursuers who garbled and mutilated it at pleasure. He himself never published the book.

      It will be of interest to students of literature to learn that one of Shakespeare's most famous passages was borrowed from this "History," namely, the description of Cardinal Wolsey in Henry VIII. Whole passages have been worked into the play. As Campion wrote it in 1569, when Shakespeare was only four or five years old, its authorship is beyond dispute. Conditions finally became so unpleasant in Dublin that he was obliged to take to flight. He left Ireland disguised as a serving-man and reached London, in time to witness the execution of Dr. Storey in June, 1571. That completed the work of his conversion, and he went to Douai, where after a recantation of his heresy, he resumed his course of scholastic theology; a year later, he set out for Rome as a penniless pilgrim, arriving there barefooted and in rags, much to the amazement of one of his former Oxford admirers, who met him on the street.

      He was received into the Society by Father Mercurian, and made his novitiate at Prague in Bohemia, where he was ordained in 1578. He was one of the first group of missionaries who left the Continent for England under the guidance of Persons. In the party were Dr. Goldwell, Bishop of Saint Asaph, thirteen secular priests, three Jesuits: Persons, Campion and Ralph Emerson, a lay-brother, besides two young men not in orders. Goldwell had been consecrated as early as 1555 and had accompanied Cardinal Pole to England; he was England's sole representative at the Council of Trent. He was now on his way again to his native country, but he fell ill at Rheims and, according to the "Dictionary of National Biography," was recalled by the Pope. "This," says Dr. Guilday (English Refugees, p. 125), "was a disappointment to Persons. The presence of a bishop in England had been a condition of the Jesuits' taking up the burden of converting lapsed Catholics, and despite all the rebuffs the demand for a hierarchy met at Rome, the Jesuits themselves continually renewed it." These words of the distinguished historian who is the most recent witness in the matter of the archipresbyterate are invaluable testimony on a sorely controverted point.

      The missionaries left Rome on foot, and passing through Milan were detained for a week by St. Charles Borromeo, who made Campion discourse every day to the episcopal household on some theological topic. From there they directed their steps to Geneva and were bold enough to visit Theodore Beza in his own house, but he refused to discuss religious matters. At Rheims Campion spoke to the students on the glory of martyrdom. Finally he and Persons arrived at Calais, and made their plans to cross the Channel; the other missionaries had meantime scattered along the coast, as it would have been manifestly unsafe for all to embark at the same place. Persons went aboard the boat disguised as a naval officer, and on stepping ashore at Dover presented himself with supreme audacity to the port warden or governor, and asked for a permit for his friend "Patrick," a merchant who was waiting on the other side for leave to cross. "Patrick" was Campion. He had used that name when escaping from Ireland, and as it had stood him in good stead then, he again assumed it.

      Campion, however, did not play his part as well as Persons, for the governor eyed him intently and said: "You are Doctor Allen." "Indeed, I am not," replied Campion. "Well, you are a suspicious character, at all events, and your case must be looked into." A council was accordingly held, and it was decided to send the new-comer to London, under an armed escort. Campion thought himself lost, but up in his heart arose a prayer: "O Lord, let me work at least one year for my country, and then do with me what Thou wilt." Immediately a change came over the Governor's face, and, to the amazement of everyone, he said: "I was mistaken; you can go." Full of gratitude to God, the future martyr made all haste for London, where someone was on the look-out for him, and he soon met Father Persons.

      Such are the plain facts taken from the writings of Campion to his superiors, describing his arrival in England. But the public mind had to be debauched on this as on every other point concerning the Jesuits, even at the expense of the man whom Oxford is still proud of as a scholar and a gentleman, who was called by Cecil "one of the diamonds of England," and whose grace and beauty and eloquence made him the favorite of Dudley and Elizabeth. In spite of all that, however, Kingsley, in his "Westward Ho" (chap. iii), describes Campion at this juncture of his life as "a grotesque dwarf whose sword, getting between his spindle shanks, gave him, at times, the appearance of having three legs, and figuring sometimes as a tail when it stuck out behind. He was so small that he could only scratch at the ribs of his horse which he was trying to mount on the wrong side, but he finally succeeded in gaining his seat by the help of a stool." He also wore "a tonsure," we are informed, "cut by apostolic scissors," and Londoner though he was, he is made to speak of his countrymen as "Islanders." Persons also is described as a blustering, blaspheming bully, who gives himself absolution for his own transgressions. All this is omitted, however, from the school edition of "Westward Ho."

      Persons and Campion set to work immediately, and soon managed to call a meeting of the priests who were in hiding in various places of the country. The purpose of the summons was to let them know that the newcomers had received the most stringent orders from their superiors to keep absolutely aloof from anything savoring of politics. At Hoxton, Campion made a written statement to that effect; and it was there that he received a visit from one of the most interesting, and, to some extent, the oddest of the English missionaries – a man who was made a Jesuit by letter – the famous Thomas Pounde.

      Pounde had begun by being a very conspicuous fop at the court of Queen Elizabeth. He was a favorite of the queen, and had, on one occasion, prepared a splendid pageant at which her majesty was present. One of its features was a dance, a pas seul by himself. However, as luck would have it, he stumbled and fell right at the queen's feet. The accident was ridiculous enough to humiliate him, but when his gracious sovereign honored him with a brutal kick, and called out scoffingly: "Get up, Sir Ox," Pounde arose, indeed, but not as an ox. He was a changed man. Up to that, though a Catholic, he had put his religion aside altogether. Now, he openly proclaimed his Faith and exhorted others to do the same. The result was that he was confined in almost every dungeon of the kingdom. He was loaded with fetters and shut up in cells where no ray of light could penetrate; and when liberated, either through the influence of friends, or because he had served the appointed term, he was incarcerated again. Everywhere and at all times he preached the truths of the Faith, not only in a courageous, but in an extraordinarily joyous fashion to his fellow-prisoners, or to people outside the jail, making converts of many and inducing others to amend their lives. Of the latter class was a certain Thomas Cottam, an Oxford man, who, thanks to his friend Pounde, not only became very devout, but, after he had succeeded in getting to the Continent, became a Jesuit and returning later was martyred at Tyburn on May 30, 1582.

      A chance reading of the Jesuit missions in India had quite captivated Pounde, as well as a friend of his, named Thomas Stephens, who used to go around disguised as Pounde's servant. They determined to make for the Continent and to ask for admission to the Society. On the way, Pounde was captured because he had stopped too long in trying to convert a Protestant who had given him shelter; Stephens, however, reached Rome and was admitted to the Society. But instead of being sent back to England, as one would have fancied, his longing for India was satisfied, and we find him in Goa, on October 24, 1579. He was there known as Padre Estevão, or Estevan, or again as Padre Busten, Buston, or de Buston, the latter names being so many Portuguese efforts to pronounce Bulstan, in Wiltshire, England, where Stephens was born about 1549. As we see from the dates, he had then reached the age of 30. He is mentioned in Hakluyt's "Voyages" as the first Englishman who ever went to India. Hakluyt's information came from a series of letters which Stephens wrote to his father, "offering the strongest inducements to London merchants to embark on Indian speculations." These letters bore such evidence of sound commercial knowledge that they are regarded as having suggested the formation of the English East India Company.

      Father Stephens spent his first five years as minister of the professed house at Goa, and was then sent to Salsette as rector, and, for a time, was socius to the visitor. After that he spent thirty-five years as a missionary among the Brahmin Catholics of Salsette, but his labors in that field did not prevent him from doing a great deal of hard literary work. Thus, he was the first to make a scientific study of Canarese. He also plunged into Hindustani, and wrote grammars and books of devotion in those languages. Most of his writings, however, were lost at the time of the Suppression of the Society. He died in Goa in 1619. (The Catholic Encyclopedia, XIV, 292.)

      Pounde's Jesuit work was quite different from that of Stephens.