The King's Daughters

by Emily Sarah Holt

And circumstances were especially awkward for Elizabeth, since she could not give any explanation of her proceedings which would clear her in the eyes of her employers. Nicholas Clere, like many other people of prejudiced minds and fixed opinions, had a mind totally unfixed in the one matter of religion. His religion was whatever he found it to his worldly advantage to be. During King Edward’s reign, it was polite and fashionable to be a Protestant; now, under Queen Mary, the only way to make a man’s fortune was to be a Roman Catholic. And though Nicholas did not say even to himself that it was better to have plenty of money than to go to Heaven when he died, yet he lived exactly as if he thought so. During the last few years, therefore, Nicholas had gradually been growing more and more of a Papist, and especially during the last few weeks. First, he left off attending the Protestant meetings at the King’s Head; then he dropped family prayer. Papists, whether they be the genuine article or only the imitation, always dislike family prayer. They say that a church is the proper place to pray in, though our Lord’s bidding is, “When thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret.” The third step which Nicholas took was to go to mass, and command all his household to follow him. This had Elizabeth hitherto, but quite respectfully, declined to do. She was ready to obey all orders of her earthly master which did not interfere with her higher duty to God Almighty. But His holy Word—not her fancy, nor the traditions of men—forbade her to bow down to graven images; or to give His glory to any person or thing but Himself.

And Elizabeth knew that she could not attend mass without doing that. A piece of consecrated bread would be held up, and she would be required to worship it as God. And it was not God: it could neither see, nor hear, nor speak; it was not even as like God as a man is. To worship a bit of bread because Christ likened His body to bread, would be as silly as to worship a stone because the Bible says, “That Rock was Christ.” It was evident that He was speaking figuratively, just as He spoke when He said, “I am the door of the sheep,” and “I am the Morning Star.” Who in his senses would suppose that Christ meant to say that He was a wooden door? It is important that we should have true ideas about this, because there are just now plenty of foolish people who will try to persuade us to believe that that poor, powerless piece of bread is God Himself. It is insulting the Lord God Almighty to say such a thing. Look at the 115th Psalm, from the fifth verse to the eight, and you will see how God describes an idol, which He forbids to be worshipped: and then look at the 26th and 27th verses of the 24th chapter of Saint Matthew, and you will see that the Lord Jesus distinctly says that you are not to believe anybody who tells you that He is come before you see Him. When He really does come, nobody will want any telling; we shall all see Him for ourselves. So we find from His own words in every way that the bread and wine in the Sacrament are just bread and wine, and nothing more, which we eat and drink “in remembrance of Him,” just as you might keep and value your mother’s photograph in remembrance of her. But I am sure you never would be so silly as to think that the photograph was her own real self!

This was the reason why Elizabeth Foulkes would not go to mass. Every Sunday morning Mrs Clere ordered her to go, and Elizabeth quietly, respectfully, but firmly, told her that she could not do so. Elizabeth had God’s Word to uphold her; God forbade her to worship idols. It was not simply that she did not like it, nor that somebody else had told her not to do it. Nothing can excuse us if we break the laws of our country, unless the law of our country has broken God’s law; and Elizabeth would have done very wrong to disobey her mistress, except when her mistress told her to disobey God. What God said must be her rule; not what she thought.

Generally speaking, Mrs Clere called Elizabeth some ugly names, and then let her do as she liked. Up to this time her master had not interfered with her, but she was constantly expecting that he would. She was not afraid of answering for herself; but she was terribly afraid for her poor friends. To tell him that she was on her way to warn them of danger, and beg them to escape, would be the very means of preventing their escape, for what he was likely to do was to go at once and tell the priests, in order to win their favour for himself.

“Hussy, what goest thou about?” came sternly from Nicholas Clere, as he held her fast.

“Master, I cry you mercy. I was on my way home, and I was turned out of it by one that prayed me to take a word of grave import to a friend.”

Elizabeth thought she might safely say so much as that.

“I believe thee not,” answered Nicholas. “All young maids be idle gadabouts, if they be not looked to sharply, and thou art no better than the rest. Whither wert thou going?”

“I have told all I may, Master, and I pray you ask no further. The secret is not mine, but theirs that sent me and should have received my message.”

In those days, nothing was more usual than for secret messages to be sent from one person to another. It was not safe then, as it is now, for people to speak openly. Freedom always goes hand in hand with Protestantism. If England should ever again become a Roman Catholic country—which many people are trying hard to make her—Englishmen will be no longer free.