The queen of Hungary, governess of the Netherlands, who, from a strange mixture of contradictory qualities, was desirous, while obliged to execute the persecuting decrees of her brother against evangelical Christianity, to feed upon the word of God, had chosen for her chaplain one Peter Alexander, a true Christian man. This minister faithfully confessed his trust in the Saviour, both in preaching and in conversation. 'All things needful for salvation,' he said, 'are contained in the Gospel. We must believe only that which is to be found in the Holy Scriptures. Faith alone justifies immediately before God, but works justify a man before his fellow-men. The true indulgences are obtained without gold or silver, by trust alone in the merits of Christ. The one real sin which condemns is not to believe in Christ. The true penance consists in abstinence from sin. All the merits of Christ are communicated to men by faith, so that they are able to glory in them as much as if they were their own. We must honor the saints only by imitating their virtues. We obtain a blessing of God more easily by asking for it ourselves than through the saints.[155] No one loves God so much as he ought. All the efforts and all the labors of those who are not regenerated by the Holy Spirit are evil. The religion of the monks is hypocrisy. The fast of God is a perpetual fast, and not confined to this or that particular day. It is three hundred years since the pure and real Gospel was preached; and now whoever preaches it is considered a heretic.'
THE QUEEN'S CHAPLAIN.
It was a strange sight, this evangelical chaplain preaching in the chapel of the most persecuting court in Christendom. Alexander, too, after being frequently accused, was at length obliged to hold a theological disputation with the confessor De Soto, in the presence of the two Granvellas. In consequence of this disputation proceedings were instituted against him. The confessor often came before the emperor and declared that the whole country would be ruined if this man were not severely punished. One day a friend of Enzinas came to see him in prison, and told him that the queen's preacher had fled, because he found that if he stayed an hour longer he would be ruined. Alexander was tried and burnt in effigy, together with his Latin and French books. As for himself, he became first a professor at the university of Heidelberg, afterwards canon of Canterbury cathedral, and finally pastor of the French church in London.
This flight brought Enzinas to a decision. On February 1, 1545, after sitting a long time at table at the evening meal, he felt more depressed than usual without knowing why. The clock struck, it was half-past seven. He then rose, as he was wont to do, not liking protracted meals, and began to pace up and down in a gloomy and dejected state, so that some of the prisoners came up to him and said—'Come, put away this melancholy.' 'Make you merry, the rest of you, over your cups,' he answered; 'but as for me I want air; I will go out.' No one paid any attention to what he said, nor did he himself mean any thing particular when he spoke. He continued walking about, uneasy, having some difficulty in breathing, and in great distress. He thus came to the first gate, the upper part of which, constructed of strong lattice-work, allowed him to see into the street. Having approached it for the purpose of looking out, he felt the gate stir. He took hold of it and it opened easily. The second was wide open, and the third was only closed during the night. We have mentioned the negligence of the jailer. Francis was amazed at the strange circumstance. It seemed to him that God called him; he resolved to take advantage of this unlooked-for opportunity, and went out.
ESCAPE OF ENZINAS.
He reached the street and was there alone. The night was very dark, but was lighted up from time to time by the torches of passengers traversing the streets or the squares. Enzinas, keeping a little on one side, considered where he had better go. Every refuge appeared to him open to suspicion and full of danger. Suddenly he remembered one man of his acquaintance, of Christian character, in whom he placed implicit confidence. He betook himself to his place of abode and called him. 'Come in and stay with me,' said the man. Enzinas replied that it appeared to him the safest plan to go out of the town that very night. 'Do you know,' he added, 'any part of the walls at which it would be possible to clear them?' 'Yes,' said the other, 'I will guide you and will accompany you wherever you wish to go.' The friend took his cloak and they set out. They went on their way, quite alone in the darkness, towards the walls. At night these parts were deserted. They found the spot they were seeking for, and scaled the wall. At that moment the clocks in the town struck the hour of eight.[156] Their flight had, therefore, occupied less than half an hour. These two men cleared the wall as easily as if they had prepared for it long before. Enzinas was out of the town. 'I often found help of God,' said he, 'while I was in prison; but never had I experienced it as at this moment.' He resolved to proceed that same night to Mechlin, and early the next morning to Antwerp.
A thousand thoughts thronged his mind as he went silently onwards in the darkness. The gloomy fancies of the prison-house were succeeded by joyful hopes. Much affected by his wonderful deliverance, he saw in it a mystery, a hidden will of God. 'Assuredly,' he said, 'if I am set at liberty, it is to the end that I may be ready for ruder conflicts and greater dangers,' and as he walked on he prepared himself for them by prayer. 'O Father of our deliverer Jesus Christ, enlighten my mind, that I may know the hope of my calling, and that I may faithfully serve the church of Jesus Christ even to the latest day of my life.'
Thus, sometimes praying and sometimes conversing with the brother who accompanied him, Enzinas arrived before Mechlin; but as the gates of the town were not yet opened, he had to wait a long time. At five o'clock in the morning the officers of the town appeared, and every one was free to go in or out. As Enzinas entered he saw in front of an inn a vehicle just on the point of starting, in which sat a man whose appearance was not calculated to inspire confidence. Enzinas, however, inquired of him whither he was going. The man replied, 'To Antwerp; and if you please to get up, the carriage is quite ready.' This man was an agent of the inquisitors, the secretary Louis de Zoëte. He was one of the great enemies of the Reformation; he had instituted the proceedings against Enzinas, and had mustered the witnesses for the prosecution. He was now on his way to Antwerp, as bearer of a sentence of condemnation issuing from the imperial court, by virtue of which he was to order the burning of any evangelicals then in prison. The meeting was not a pleasant one. Enzinas and De Zoëte had probably only casually seen each other. The young Spaniard, therefore, not recognizing his enemy, might with pleasure avail himself of his offer. In this case it was more than probable that he would be recognized during the journey by the police spy, whose business was to track and seize suspected persons, as a hunting dog tracks the game. Zoëte might possibly find means of adding another to the list of those whom he was going to burn alive. 'Get into the carriage,' said Enzinas to the Brussels friend who accompanied him. He got in. The door of the hotel at which Francis had knocked was not yet opened. While waiting the two friends, one in the carriage, the other in the street, were talking on various subjects; and the owner of the carriage hearing them took part likewise in the conversation. At length the door opened. 'Go with this gentleman,' said Francis to his friend; 'for my part I must travel faster, and shall go on horseback.' The people of the inn, who were acquainted with him, welcomed him with great demonstrations of joy; and on learning his position gave him a good horse. Without losing a moment he mounted and set out. He soon overtook the carriage and saluted its occupants. 'Make good speed,' said his friend. 'I will go so fast,' he replied, 'that if all the scoundrels in Brussels are determined to pursue me they shall not catch me.' It seems impossible that De Zoëte should not have heard this, and it must have given him something to think about.[157]
A LEGEND.
In two hours Enzinas was at Antwerp. Unwilling to expose his kinsmen and friends to danger, he alighted at an inn, with which he was doubtless familiar, as he had already been at Antwerp several times, and in which he believed that he should be safe. In the evening his travelling companion arrived at Antwerp. As soon as he saw Enzinas he exclaimed: 'You will be greatly astonished to hear in what company I have come, and who it is that you talked so much with at Mechlin!' 'Who was he, then?' 'The worst man in the whole country, Louis de Zoëte.' Enzinas thanked God that he had so spell-bound the eyes and the mind of the persecutor, that while he saw and spoke with him he had not recognized him. The next day two persons from Brussels, strangers to Enzinas, arrived at the inn. Enzinas meeting them at table or elsewhere, said to them: 'What news from Brussels?' 'A great miracle has just taken place there,' they replied. 'And pray what may it be?' 'There was a Spaniard who had lain in prison for fifteen months, and had never been able to obtain either his release or his trial. But the host which we worship has procured him a miraculous deliverance. The other evening, just at nightfall, the air suddenly shone around him with great brightness. The three gates of the prison opened miraculously before him, and he passed forth from the prison and from the town, still lighted by that splendor.' 'See, my dear master,' said Enzinas afterwards to Melanchthon, 'the foolishness of the popular fancy, which in so short a time dressed up in falsehood a certain amount of truth. It is quite true that three gates were found open, else I should not have got out. But as to the brightness, the light of which they speak, I saw no other than that of the lanterns of passengers in the street.[158] I attribute my deliverance not to the wonderful sacrament which these idolaters worship, but solely to the great mercy of God, who deigned to hear the prayers of his church.'