“Thank you,” said Countess in a tone of some emotion. “They would not own me now.”
“Dear,” whispered Ermine lovingly, “whosoever shall confess Christ before men,—not the creed, nor the Church, but Him whom the Father sent, and the truth to which He bore witness—him will He also confess before our Father which is in Heaven. And I think there are a very few of those whom He will present before the presence of His glory, who shall hear Him say of them those words of highest praise that He ever spoke on earth,—‘She hath done what she could.’”
Chapter Thirteen.
Historical Appendix.
The sorrowful story of Gerhardt’s Mission is told by William of Newbury and Ranulph de Diceto. It seems strange that a company of thirty German peasants should have set forth to bring England back to the pure primitive faith; yet not stranger than that four hundred years earlier, Boniface the Englishman should have set out to convert Germany from heathenism. Boniface succeeded; Gerhardt failed. The reason for the failure, no less than for the success, is hidden in the counsels of Him who worketh all things according to His own will. The time was not yet.
It was in 1159 that this little company arrived in England, and for seven years they preached without repression. Gerhardt, their leader, was the only educated man amongst them, the rest being described as “rustic and unpolished.” Some have termed them Publicani or Paulikians; whether they really belonged to that body is uncertain. William of Newbury says they were a sect which came originally from Gascony, and was scattered over Gaul, Spain, Italy, and Germany. They seem therefore to have been true descendants of the old Gallican Church—the Church of Irenaus and Blandina—which we know retained her early purity far longer than the Church of Rome. Their defence, too, when examined, was that of Blandina—“I am a Christian, and no evil is done amongst us.”
Their preaching was singularly unsuccessful, if the monkish writers are to be trusted. “They added to their company, during a sojourn of some time in England, only one girl (muliercula), who, as report says, was fascinated by magic.” Perhaps their work was of more value than appeared on the surface. After seven years of this quiet evangelising, the King and the clergy interfered. Considered as a “foreign sect,” they were cited before a council held at Oxford in 1166, the King stating his desire neither to dismiss them as harmless, nor to punish them as guilty, without proper investigation.
Gerhardt was the chief spokesman. To the questions asked he replied that they were Christians, and “revered the doctrine of the Apostles,” but he expressed abhorrence of certain Romish tenets—e.g., Purgatory, prayers for the dead, and the invocation of saints. He is said to have shown detestation for the sacraments and for marriage: which, compared with similar accusations brought against the Albigenses, and their replies thereto, almost certainly means that he objected to the corrupt view of these institutions taken by Rome. If Gerhardt denied consubstantiation, baptismal regeneration, and the sacramental character of matrimony, the priests were sure to assert that he denied the sacraments and marriage. The Albigenses were similarly accused, and almost in the same sentence we are told that they had their wives with them. When “the Scriptures were urged against them,” the Germans declined disputation. They probably saw that it would be of no avail. Indeed, what good could be gained by disputing with men who confessed that they received Scripture only on the authority of the Church (which they held superior to the Word of God), and who allowed no explanation of it save their own private interpretation?—who were so illogical as to urge that the Church existed before the Scriptures as a reason for her superiority, and so ignorant as to maintain that pulai adou signified the power of Satan! Asked if they would do penance, the Germans refused: threatened with penalties, they held firm. Their punishment was terrible. They were, of course, by Rome’s cruel fiction that the Church punishes no man, delivered over to the secular power; and the sentence upon them was that of branding on the forehead, their garments being cut down to the girdle, and being turned into the open fields. Proclamation was made that none should presume to receive them under his roof, nor “to administer consolation.” The sentence was carried out with even more barbarity than it was issued, for Gerhardt was twice branded, on forehead and chin, all were scourged, and were then beaten with rods out of the city. No compassion was shown even to the women. Not a creature dared to open his door to the “heretics.” Their solitary convert recanted in terror. But the Germans went patiently and heroically to their death, singing, as they passed on, the last beatitude—“Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you, falsely, for My sake.” Their suffering did not last long. It was in the depth of winter that they were cast out, and they soon lay down in the snow and yielded up their martyr-souls to God.