In substance, however, though not in form, the doctrine of Gerard, Southwell, and Garnett, was the same as that of Taylor, Milton, and Johnson. But to confine ourselves to the practice of Father Gerard, this doctrine is not necessary for his defence, and if his conduct be fairly examined, he will be held, even from the modern point of view, to have done no wrong. Protestant moralists, as we have seen, permit men under certain circumstances to tell a lie with intent to deceive. And Catholic moralists permit under such circumstances assertions which would lead the hearers to deceive themselves by neglecting to advert to the limit of the speaker's obligation to tell the truth. But with regard to Father Gerard's legal interrogations, we may waive the question whether they are right or wrong in their morality, for we see clearly that he so expressed himself as to show that his words were not intended to be believed.
The real parallel to them, alleged by Gerard himself, as we shall shortly see, is the prisoner's usual plea of “Not guilty.” This is the only form in which the question is now put to a person accused. But in those days the question was put over and over again, and in every variety of form. To deny was really to plead “Not guilty,” and if this be lawful once, it was lawful whenever they were forced to repeat it. Not only was it a capital offence to be a Priest within the realm, but it was high treason to be reconciled to the Church, or absolved by a Priest, or to harbour or comfort one. Thus the interrogations addressed to prisoners were always intended to make them criminate themselves or others; that is, in the one case to cause them to plead guilty, so that they might be condemned to death on their own confessions; or, in the other case, to force them to become Queen's evidence, and be accessory to the infliction upon others of the extremest penalties enacted by an unjust law.
The first instance that occurs in Father Gerard's Life, is that when, after his apprehension, on being questioned he declared that he was quite unacquainted with the family of the Wisemans, and those who were examining him betrayed their informer [pg ccxiii] by crying out, “What lies you tell! Did you not say so-and-so before such a lady as you read your servant's letter?” Then he adds, “But I still denied it, giving them good reasons however why, even if it had been true, I could and ought to have denied it.”[182]
Another time[183] he was confronted with three servants of Lord Henry Seymour, who avouched that he had dined with their mistress and her sister, the Lady Mary Percy, that it was in Lent, and they told how their mistress ate meat, while Lady Mary and Father Gerard ate nothing but fish. “Young flung this charge in my teeth with an air of triumph, as though I could not help acknowledging it, and thereby disclosing some of my acquaintances. I answered that I did not know the men whom he had brought up.
“ ‘But we know you,’ said they, ‘to be the same that was at such a place on such a day.’
“ ‘You wrong your mistress,’ said I, ‘in saying so. I, however, will not so wrong her.’
“ ‘What a barefaced fellow you are!’ exclaimed Young.
“ ‘Doubtless,’ I answered, ‘were these men's statements true. As for me, I cannot in conscience speak positively in the matter, for reasons that I have often alleged; let them look to the truth and justice of what they say.’ ”
A third instance is the interview[184] between Father Gerard and the widow Wiseman, in the presence of the Dean of Westminster, Topcliffe, and others. “They wanted to see if she recognized me. So when I came into the room where they brought me, I found her already there. When she saw me coming in with the gaolers, she almost jumped for joy; but she controlled herself, and said to them: ‘Is that the person you spoke of? I do not know him; but he looks like a Priest.’
“Upon this she made me a very low reverence, and I bowed in return. Then they asked me if I did not recognize her?