It is quite evident that the king’s purpose to destroy the whole monastic institution was partly the result of the determined resistance which the monks offered to his authority.  The contest between the king and the monks was exceedingly fierce and bloody.  Many good men lost their lives and many innocent persons suffered grievously.  Perhaps the most pathetic incident in the sanguinary struggle between the king and the monks was the tragic fall of the Charterhouse of London.  The facts are given at length by Froude, in his “History of England,” who bases his account on the narrative of Maurice Channey, one of the monks who escaped death by yielding to the king.  The unhappy monk confesses that he was a Judas among the apostles, and in a touching account of the ruin that came upon his monastic retreat he praises the boldness and fidelity of his companions, who preferred death to what seemed to them dishonor.

The pages of Channey are filled with the most improbable stories of miracles, but his charming picture of the cloister life of the Carthusians is doubtless true to reality.  The Carthusian fathers were the best fruit of monasticism in England.  To a higher degree than any of the other monastic orders they maintained a good discipline and preserved the spirit of their founders.  “A thousand years of the world’s history had rolled by,” says Froude, “and these lonely islands of prayer had remained still anchored in the stream; the strands of the ropes which held them, wearing now to a thread, and very near their last parting, but still unbroken.”  In view of the undisputed purity and fearlessness of these noble monks, a recital of their woes will place the case for the monastic institution in the most favorable light.

Channey says the year 1533 was ushered in with signs,—­the end of the world was nigh.  Yes, the monk’s world was drawing to a close; the moon, for him, was turning into blood, and the stars falling from heaven.

More and Fisher were in the Tower.  The former’s splendid talents and noble character still swayed the people.  It was no time for trifling; the Carthusian fathers must take the oath of allegiance or perish.  So one morning the royal commissioners appeared before the monastery door of the Charterhouse to demand submission.  Prior Houghton answered them:  “I know nothing of the matter mentioned; I am unacquainted with the world without; my office is to minister to God, and to save poor souls from Satan.”  He was committed to the Tower for one month.  Then Dr. Bonner persuaded the prior to sign with “certain reservations.”  He was released and went back to his cloister-cell to weep.  Calling his monks together he said he was sorry; it looked like deceit, but he desired to save his brethren and their order.  The commissioners returned; the monks were under suspicion; the reservations were disliked, and they must sign without conditions.  In great consternation the prior assembled the monks.