Heresy. S. J. Parris
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tongue up there, Doctor Bruno,’ said James Coverdale, leaning across the table.
‘He seems disappointed with the world as he finds it,’ I observed, checking to see that Bernard had been moved far enough away to be out of earshot.
‘It is often the way with old men,’ Godwyn said, with a sombre nod. ‘He has weathered a great many changes in his seventy winters, it cannot be easy.’
‘If he continues to speak his mind as plainly among the undergraduates as he does among his fellows, he will soon go the way of his friend,’ said Slythurst, in a clipped tone that suggested he would not be displeased at such an outcome. I do not like to judge men on appearance and so little acquaintance, but there was something about the bursar that did not invite respect. He had been staring at me intently from the moment I sat down, and I sensed that the look was not friendly.
‘His friend?’ I asked.
Coverdale sighed.
‘It is a sorry business, Doctor Bruno, and a source of shame to the college – the former sub-rector, Doctor Allen, was deprived of office last year after he was discovered to have …’ he hesitated, looking for a diplomatic expression ‘… perjured himself in swearing the Oath of Supremacy. It seemed he was still a devout communicant of the Roman Church.’
‘Really? How was he discovered?’
‘Denounced by an anonymous source,’ Coverdale said, as if relishing the intrigue. ‘But when his room was searched, he was found in possession of a quantity of banned papist literature. And of course the sub-rector holds the second highest office in the college, and is in charge whenever the rector is absent, so you may imagine the scandal. A number of us here had to testify against him in the Chancellor’s Court.’
‘The university holds its own legal sessions to enforce discipline,’ explained Godwyn the librarian in a lugubrious tone. ‘Though in a matter of such import the Privy Council also took an active interest. The Earl of Leicester – our chancellor, you know – has repeatedly charged the heads of colleges to rid themselves of all suspicion of popery so the rector had to be seen to strike swift and hard against Allen.’
‘Doctor Underhill was formerly the Earl of Leicester’s own chaplain, as he has no doubt boasted to you already,’ added Slythurst. ‘He could not have pardoned Allen and kept his own position.’
‘Yet Allen hoped for a pardon,’ Coverdale interjected. ‘And for better loyalty from his friends. In that he was badly disappointed.’
‘I think the rector did his duty with a heavy heart, James,’ Godwyn said, with a meaningful look at Coverdale. ‘Indeed it grieved all of us to have to bear public witness to his errors.’
‘Roger Mercer gave his testimony quickly enough,’ said Coverdale, glancing with barely concealed anger down the table to where Mercer was laughing merrily with Florio. I saw Slythurst roll his eyes, as if he had heard this grievance many times before. ‘And he was supposed to be Allen’s closest friend. Still, he got his thirty pieces of silver, did he not?’
‘Silver?’ I asked.
‘His testimony was crucial to condemning Allen, and for that he was given Allen’s position when he was deprived,’ Coverdale said bitterly.
‘Perhaps I should clarify for Doctor Bruno that, traditionally, it is the proctor who succeeds as sub-rector, just as the sub-rector goes on to become rector,’ Godwyn explained. ‘This is the way it has always been done – there is a congregation of the Fellows, of course, but the vote is really a formal seal of approval on the established succession.’
‘But since the present rector was placed here by the Earl of Leicester, to do his bidding,’ Coverdale hissed, hunching down in his seat so that he would not be heard, ‘he shows scant regard for tradition and appoints those he finds most pliable. And we all know why Leicester forced through Underhill’s election,’ he added significantly.
‘James,’ said Slythurst, a warning in his voice.
‘I understood it was to enforce propriety in religion,’ I said. ‘Cut out the canker of popery.’
‘Oh, that is the official reason.’ Coverdale waved a dismissive hand. ‘But the college owns substantial manors and parcels of profitable farmland in Oxfordshire, you understand – many of which are now leased at a most advantageous rate to friends of Leicester, are they not, Master Bursar?’
‘You forget yourself, James,’ Slythurst said smoothly. ‘Doctor Bruno here is a friend of the Earl of Leicester.’
‘Indeed, I have never met him,’ I said hastily. ‘I merely travel with his nephew.’
‘In any case,’ Coverdale continued, warming to his theme, ‘the college loses valuable profit and must struggle to make ends meet by admitting legions of these so-called gentlemen commoners – paying students who have neither the inclination nor the talent to be scholars and gad about the town wenching and gambling and bringing the university into disrepute.’
‘This is not an appropriate subject for the supper table,’ said Slythurst, in a voice thick with cold anger, bringing down his palm flat against the board just firmly enough to signal his displeasure. ‘There is nothing improper about those leases, moreover the disbursal of college funds can be of no interest to our guest. A little discretion, if you please, gentlemen.’
The Fellows looked down, embarrassed; an uncomfortable silence loomed.
‘Doctor Coverdale,’ I said, turning to the proctor with a diplomatic smile, ‘you were telling me about the trial of Edmund Allen – please do go on.’
Coverdale exchanged a look with Slythurst that I could not read, then folded his hands together.
‘I was saying only that Mercer’s testimony against Allen carried great weight in the trial, not least because he was Allen’s closest confidant. The rector needed Mercer’s cooperation, and in return he was given Allen’s position.’
‘Which should have been yours,’ I prompted.
Coverdale placed a plump hand on his breast and assumed a face of unconvincing modesty.
‘It is not for my own merits that I say an injustice has been done, Doctor Bruno,’ he said, ‘but for the violation to tradition. This university is founded on tradition, and if individuals feel that they are not obliged to respect it because their personal patronage carries more weight, the fabric of our community will crumble.’
‘Edmund was friend to many of us,’ Godwyn said, with an air of regret. A sombre mood had fallen on our group as once again I heard Sophia, Florio and Mercer erupt into laughter. ‘He was greatly liked by the undergraduates, too – it was a pity that he could not in his heart renounce the errors of his old beliefs.’
‘Exile seems a harsh punishment for owning a few books,’ I ventured, helping myself to more beef and onions.
‘He was lucky to leave England with his guts still inside his belly,’ said Slythurst dispassionately. ‘Less favoured men have had harder punishments for less. You of all people, Doctor Bruno, should know that heterodoxy in religion is a most grave sin, against God and the established order.’ He looked at me pointedly.
‘It was not just the books,’ Godwyn interrupted, in a confidential tone. ‘He was suspected of being a courier for his cousin, William Allen, at the English seminary in Rheims. They took him to London and questioned him under cruel torture, but he never said a word and in the end they sent him abroad. Poor Edmund.’ He shook his head sadly and drained his cup.
‘I met his son today,’ I remarked, tearing another piece of bread.
Coverdale rolled his eyes.
‘Then I pity you,’ he said. ‘No doubt he was begging you to carry pleas to the court for his father’s pardon?’ Without waiting for an answer, he clicked his tongue angrily. ‘That boy should never have been allowed to stay on after his father’s disgrace. Thomas