The king's order was speedily carried out in regard to all save Alesius; but he, notwithstanding all remonstrances of friends, was not only detained in custody, but was even thrust into a more filthy dungeon, called by the sufferer, in one of his treatises, teterrimo specu subtus terram inter bufones et serpentes,[289] and in another a latrinâ,[290] or sink, to which I know nothing at all corresponding in St Andrews save the underground chamber near the college hall,[291] and the roughly-hewn cavern still subsisting in the rock to the north of the house at the end of Castle Street, going down by the southern entrance by thirty or more somewhat irregular steps through the rock, and terminating in a small chamber of rounded or oval form, having an opening in its roof originally little more than a foot in diameter, but now considerably enlarged, and to which on the other side a covered passage from the castle leads down. They might well abandon hope who entered there, and possibly one at least of its uses was for literally immuring those who were never again to have further intercourse with their fellow-men. In this or some other equally horrible place the poor canon was confined for eighteen or twenty days; and when, after repeated remonstrances on the part of the king and the magistrates of the city, the prior was obliged to produce his victim, he enjoined him strictly on no account to utter one word about the shameful maltreatment to which he had been subjected. Alesius, however, had suffered too horribly in this place to let slip the opportunity so unexpectedly presented to him of telling the worst to the friendly magistrates, and entreating them to save him from all further risk of a repetition of this barbarous cruelty. But the magistrates, though friendly, were easily persuaded that all was now to go right. As soon, however, as they were got out of the way under this persuasion, the prior upbraided the poor canon for having divulged the whole disgusting truth which he had enjoined him to conceal, and ordered him to be again placed in confinement, in which he was left to languish for nearly a year.His Prison changed. But this confinement was in a less objectionable place, and apparently within the precincts of the priory; and when the prior was absent the canons occasionally had the prisoner brought out from his ward, and even permitted him, as in former times, to take a leading part in the services at the altar. On one occasion the prior, coming back unexpectedly, and seeing what occurred in his absence, ordered Alesius at once into confinement, threatening on the morrow to have him off to the old filthy place where his life had been so nearly sacrificed before, and where he was to be entrusted to the care of a more remorseless jailer.
He escapes by Night.
As soon as their superior left them for the night the canons, satisfied that all hope of preserving the life of their comrade in St Andrews was at an end, and that if he did not seek safety by instant flight horrible torments and certain death awaited him, gathered round him and urged him to escape. On his expressing a wish to consult with other friends before taking a step so serious, they pressed him only the more urgently to flee and leave the country at once, as he would certainly be pursued, and, if overtaken, brought back for condign punishment. The sequel I give in his own unvarnished statement, which is to me more touching from its very simplicity than the highly embellished rechauffées of D'Aubigné: "Etsi maximo dolore afficiebar cum cogitarem mihi è patria, qua nihil dulcius est bene institutis naturis, discedendum esse, tamen, et necessitati, et tot bonorum virorum consiliis parendum duxi."[292] And then follows a parting scene only less affecting than that of St Paul from the disciples on the seashore at Tyre, and proving that even yet all good was not extinguished from the hearts of those under the rule of this vicious prior, and encouraging the hope, which was afterwards fully realised, that the best of them would ultimately find a more congenial home in a new and purified church. Only the apostle, though in a heathen land, could kneel down in open day on the seashore to pray with his friends, and they without challenge could accompany him to the ship which waited to receive him; while these men, though living in a professedly Christian land, had secretly to bring out their friend from the place of confinement and comfort him, and then send him away alone into the thick darkness to pursue his weary journey under cover of night to that broad firth which bounds Fifeshire on the north, if haply he might find on its shores some boat to ferry him across, or on its bosom some friendly craft to convey him without loss of time beyond the reach of his implacable persecutor. "Clam igitur educunt me domo, instruunt et viatico. Ita cum lachrymantes inter nos vale dixissemus, et illi suavissima commemoratione illustrium virorum et sanctorum qui similiter è patria tyrannidi cesserunt, maesticiam meam non nihil levassent, media jam nocte in densissimis tenebris solus iter ingredior."[293] Sadly he plodded on his way through the darkness, oppressed with forebodings, for he knew of no hospitable retreat in other lands; he had neither friend nor acquaintance among foreigners; he could speak no language but his native tongue and Latin; and he had some reason to fear that he might be classed with those vagabonds who had been driven out from various Continental states because of their fanatical opinions, and were justly suspected even by Protestants in Germany. But in the multitude of distracting thoughts within him he encouraged himself in the Lord his God and in Christ his Saviour. Ere morning had well dawned his journey was completed, and he got safely on shipboard, where, according to his own account, quidam homo germanus[294]—that is, according to some, a certain man a German; according to others, a certain man a kinsman—received him very affectionately, and afterwards nursed him with great kindness during the sea-sickness from which he suffered throughout the stormy voyage.
His Dundee Friends.
On the day following his escape, when the vessel which sheltered him had already sailed, there came horsemen to the shore, sent by the prior from St Andrews, to make search for the fugitive. When they returned without success to their master, he is reported to have summoned before him a certain citizen of Dundee, whom he suspected to have aided in providing a ship for the canon. This merchant citizen[295] took with him another true-hearted favourer of the Reformation, James Scrymgeour, provost of the town; and on the former denying that he had given the assistance which he was accused of doing to Alesius, and which probably he could deny with a good conscience, his sons in St Andrews and Dundee having been too prudent to involve him in their little plot, the provost spoke out boldly to the haughty prior, and said: Why make a work about this? I, myself, if I had known that Alexander was preparing to go away, would with the greatest pleasure have furnished him both with a ship and with provisions for his voyage, that he might be put in safety beyond the reach of your cruelty. Assuredly, had he been my brother I would long ago have rescued him from those perils and miseries in which you have involved him.
Thus Alexander Alesius was driven from his much-loved native land, destined never to return to it more, or again to see the friends and relations to whom he was so warmly attached. "Could any one then have whispered in the ear of the disconsolate exile that he was on the road to far more extensive usefulness" and freedom; that he would gain many friends in foreign lands, and would not only be spared to labour there for more than thirty years, but would also be honoured to be the first to plead by his writings for the free circulation of the Scriptures in his native Scotland, and one of the first to help on Cranmer in England, and Hermann von Wied, the reforming Archbishop of Cologne, in Germany; that he would be privileged to attend, as one of the Protestant representatives, many of the most important colloquies of the leaders of the old and the new church on the Continent, to be the intimate friend of Luther and Melanchthon, to labour as a professor of theology in two German universities, and to live and die in the greatest honour and respect among those with whom he laboured,—"how incredible would it all have seemed to him!" Yet it was thus God meant it, and thus He brought it to pass; and if there was one among the Scottish exiles of those times who was less embittered towards his persecutors than another, or more ready to yield to them in things indifferent or of minor importance, if only he could gain their hearts for Christ and His cause in matters of highest moment, it was he.
Driven by the Tempest to Malmö.
The ship in which Alesius sailed was bound for France, probably for Dieppe or Rouen, with which towns the trade of Scotland was carried on, and where many Scottish merchants resided or had factors; but she had not gone far on her way from port when a violent westerly gale carried her across the German Ocean, drove her into the Sound, and made it necessary to get her into the harbour at Malmö in Scania, in order to refit her. There, as well as at the French ports named, there was a community of Scottish merchants, probably by this time enjoying the ministrations of John Gaw or Gall, another St Andrews alumnus, early won over to the cause of the Reformation. The community of Malmö, a year or two before, had given its adhesion to the same cause, and its leading ministers, as well as the Scottish chaplain, were, therefore, prepared to welcome and treat with all kindness their exiled co-religionist, as he himself, twenty-five years after, feelingly narrates.[296] After being refitted at Malmö, the vessel proceeded on her voyage to France, where Alesius left, and plodding his way along the northern coast, visited Belgium, where he would meet with friendly Scots at Bruges, and probably also at Antwerp. He then passed up the Rhine to Cologne, where, as already suggested, he was favourably received by the Archbishop, Hermann von Wied, who afterwards became a friend of the Reformation, though at this time, like Alesius himself, not yet decided altogether to break with the old church. It is no doubt to this visit he refers in the following passage of the treatise from which I have repeatedly quoted: "When lately at Cologne I conversed familiarly with a Hermann von Wied's Apologue. certain man of the highest learning and authority, and perceived how deeply he was grieved by the disturbed state of the church in Germany. I began to exhort him to interpose his judgment in certain matters of dispute, because I hoped that milder views might gain the ascendancy if princes and people only had such monitors excelling in learning and authority. When I had argued long in support of my opinion, heaving a sigh, but making no formal reply to my arguments, he bade me listen to an apologue: When the lion, worn out with old age, could no longer obtain his prey by hunting, he fell on the device of inviting the beasts to visit him in his den. There came to him a bear, a wolf, and a fox. The bear entered first, and being affably received by the lion, and conducted round the den, he was asked how he was pleased with the amenity of the place. Being no courtier, the bear answered bluntly that he could never stay in such a filthy hole, among heaps of decaying carcasses. The lion, enraged, chid the bear for finding fault with the amenity of the royal den, and tearing him up, cast away his carcass among the others. The wolf, who had been standing by, seeing in what danger he was, thought by artifice to soothe the haughty mind of the lion. He accordingly approached, was led round the den, and was asked whether the smell of the heap of carcasses was unpleasant to him. The wolf replied, in a carefully considered speech, that he had never seen anything more pleasant. This artifice, however, was of no avail to the wolf. The lion meted out the same treatment to him as to the bear, tearing him up for his impudent flattery. The fox, who had witnessed all this, and how both the simplicity of the bear and the flattery of the wolf had given equal offence to the lion, was in great perplexity what to answer when it came to his turn. He went forward, however, and being interrogated as the others had been whether the smell of the den was disagreeable, he replied modestly that he could not express any opinion on the point, as he was labouring under a cold in the head." Alesius waited to hear from his host the moral or application of the apologue, but this was not given by him. He preferred to leave it to his own good sense, merely counselling him to be cautious of engaging in such discussions for the present. Ultimately, however, both came to see that there is a time to speak as well as a time to keep silence; and it is interesting to note that to the last both observed similar moderation in their statements of doctrine, both evinced the same desire, by conciliation to gain opponents, rather than to provoke them, notwithstanding all the hard usage they both met with from their secular and ecclesiastical superiors.
Befriended by Melanchthon.
Soon after this Alesius appears to have passed on from Cologne to Wittenberg, and there for a time to have resumed the study of theology, as well as of Greek and Hebrew, under Melanchthon and the other gifted teachers in that university. Luther he does not seem to have met for a time, or to have been acquainted with his writings when he published his first[297] treatises. Melanchthon cherished a special affection for Alesius and the Scottish exiles who soon after followed him to Wittenberg, believing that they were the descendants of those Scoti who had sent the early Christian missionaries to Germany, and that it became him to repay to them the great kindness the heathen Germans had received from their forefathers in the distant past.[298]