alin yi] EHR Sait en \ SN AN RRA WANG \\ \ IQ \ SAN \ Cornell — Library DA 185.H17 1890 THT Sonnenschein § C® London Imp Lemercies 20*Paris HENRY I] DISPUTING WITH BECKET Frontispiece COURT LIFE UNDER THE PLANTAGENETS (REIGN OF HENRY THE SECOND) BY HUBERT HALL F.S.A. OF H.M. PUBLIC RECORD OFFICE Author of ** Society in the Elizabethan Age” etc WITH FIVE COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS BY RALPH NEVILL F.S.A.,. FOUR FACSIMILES AND NUMEROUS TEXT CUTS. NEW YORK: MACMILLAN & CO. LONDON: SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO. 1890 @ il “CORNELLN UNE REITY| LiGRARY Z UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME. Third Edition, 8vo, 10s. 6d. SOCIETY IN THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. By Husert Haut, of H.M. Public Record Office. With numerous Coloured and other Plates derived from contemporary Drawings, and a large folding Coloured Map of London in the Six- teenth Century. - ConTENTS. —Chap. I. The Landlord. II. The Steward. III. The Tenant. IV. The Burgess. V. The Merchant. VI. The Host. VII. The Courtier. VIII. The Churchman. IX. The Official. . X The Lawyer. Appendix I. Notes and References to Chapters I.-X. Appendix II. The Darrell Papers. “People who wish to understand the manners and customs of our ancestors of the sixteenth century as they really were, and not as they ought to have been, cannot do better than read it.”— Truth. “Students of the Elizabethan period may well rejoice in the recent addition to their libraries of Mr. Hubert Hall’s highly interesting and most useful work.”—Joun W. Hates in the Academy. “Most curious and suggestive.”—Saturday Review. LONDON: SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & Co. PREFACE. THIs little work commemorates many happy leisure hours spent amongst the Exchequer Records and in the Hertford- shire fields where was the favourite residence, seven hundred years ago, as it is to-day, of an English minister sprung from a line of great statesmen. But although I had at first intended to follow the story of Richard Fitz Nigel in connection with his times, the want of historical material constrained me to choose another Hert- fordshire worthy, a humbler Richard, as my hero, through whose adventures I have attempted to make the Reader familiar with Court Life in England at the close of the twelfth century. It may be that at the outset many will take exception to a title of this sort applied to a work which contains no men- tion of some of the principal features of Court Life as it is now understood by us. The truth is, that to the medizval student, and to the general reader, the title Lider Curialis conveys two wholly opposite meanings. To the one it will recall the politic and scholarly entourage of a court ili IV Preface. whose acts have been recorded by historians like Richard Fitz Nigel, and whose table-talk was deemed worthy of preservation by philosophers like John of Salisbury ; while to the other it will suggest infinite possibilities in the way of tournaments and feasting, of love-making and dark cabals. I must admit that the Reader will find no scenes either of love or chivalry depicted in these pages, and that two leading characters, the knight errant and the jester, are wholly ex- cluded; but these omissions are due to the exigencies of original research, which has not in this case been rewarded by any information upon those subjects. It is true that the domestic life of courts appears very much the same, on paper, in every period of history, and given such historical person- ages as Queen Eleanor, Fair Rosamond, and Hugo Earl of Chester, it might be thought that a reconstruction of these favourite passages was possible. I will own that I was tempted by the prospects of this enterprise, and thanks to an intimate acquaintance with “Amadis de Gaul,” and the “ Arcadia,” I might even have ventured far in such a cause; but whereas those immortal works are endeared to us by their very impossibility, and I was conscientiously bent on repro- ducing for the benefit of the general reader such features of Court Life under the greatest of the Plantagenets as were actually recorded by contemporary chroniclers and essayists, I was reluctantly compelled to abandon this project. Indeed, the Court of Henry II. would seem to have been almost Oriental in its complete exclusion of female influences ; and Preface. Vv yet its Queen was one of the most remarkable women of any age, and had once probably been well seconded by the French princess who presided over the rival court of the reigning heir to the throne. There were other able women besides these, of lesser rank, but their presence and mode of life at Court is wholly problematical; and though it would have been possible to give an authentic inventory of the fabric, colour, and price of their garments, from contemporary accounts, with certain epigrams at their expense by contemporary satirists, and even their portraitures when equipped for peaceful slumber, and the like, it must be admitted that these are scarcely sufficient materials for a purely historical reconstruction. For I have attempted in this book nothing less than the delineation of living characters and the description of existing institutions at a given period of a typical reign. Every personage acted and spoke almost precisely as represented in this narrative, and every event took place at the exact time and in the exact manner described here, as far as a conscientious process, un- sparing of research, has enabled me to discover the historical . truth. Indeed, it is scarcely too much to say that two-thirds of this book might be re-translated into the original Latin or Norman-French of the contemporary historian, or elsewhere that chapter and verse could be supplied for every statement or allusion from still more authentic records. That I have made many mistakes, no one is more conscious than myself, and I may even venture to assert that this was inevitable without the co-operation of several great writers who have made the study of the life of the Manor, the Church, the vi Preface. Schools, and the Law-courts their own. All that I claim for myself is credit for an honest attempt to present for the first time to the Reader who is unable or unwilling to view it in any other form, a truthful picture of a certain phase of the national life in the past through the much-abused medium of an historical novel. Hi... PREFACE CHAPTER L CHAPTER II. CHAPTER III. CHAPTER IV. CHAPTER V. CHAPTER VI. CHAPTER VII. CHAPTER VIII. CHAPTER IX. CHAPTER X, CHAPTER XI. CHAPTER XII. CHAPTER XIII. CONTENTS. ANESTI.—THE MANOR LONDON.—THE CITY . Lonpon.—THE GUILDS LONDON.—THE GAMES WESTMINSTER.—THE KING’s HOUSE WESTMINSTER.—THE KING’s COUNCIL WESTMINSTER.—THE KING’s COURT WESTMINSTER.—AT THE RECEIPT WESTMINSTER.—AT THE EXCHEQUER WINDSOR.—-WITH THE KING WALTHAM.—SECULARS AND REGULARS . St. ALBAN’S.—THE SCHOOLMEN St. ALBAN’s.—A MARTYROLOGY APPENDIX, NOTES TO THE ILLUSTRATIONS NOTES AND REFERENCES TO CHAPTERS I-XIII. PAGE ili 26 39 47 57 81 98 114 129 143 163 177 191 203 209 CHAPTER I. ANESTI.—THE MANOR. ON a warm afternoon of March, inthe year of grace 1177, being the 23rd year of the reign of the great King of Eng- land, Henry, son of the Empress, a small party of travellers might have been seen riding slowly and painfully, as though both man and beast were exhausted by a far and toilsome journey, along the broad, white High Street, where a few miles above the Buntingford road the Quin river hurries to meet the gentle Rib. Halting upon the summit of a slight eminence, the travellers anxiously scanned the road in front of them, as though in search of some long-expected land- mark. The leader of this party was a middle-aged clerk, whose alert air and intellectual features bespoke the official — rather than the spiritual Churchman. He wore a loose cas- sock and hood over a close-fitting tunic, and rode a well-bred palfrey with easy grace. He was attended by three or four serjeants, mounted on the inferior hackneys of the period, and clad in sober liveries of parti-coloured cloth. These fol- lowed at a short distance, leading between them a sumpter- horse laden with the modest baggage of their master. “Behold, this is Quinbury, if I mistake not,” exclaimed the Churchman, after a short pause; “and hereabouts, as they told us at Ware, we should be able to see the Castle of Anesti from the High Street. And, lo, yonder it stands very proudly, somewhat to the right of us, and six miles distant, 1 B 2 Court Life under the Plantagenets. so that another hour should bring us well to our journey’s end.” Hereupon the party once more pursued their slow march, passing through the vill of Darsell, and following the course of the river, which presently brought them into the pleasant valley of Hormead, with its water-mill and broad mill-pond, and its church and manor house rising above a tiny vill away to their ‘right. This fertile manor marched, as they knew, with the south-western boundary of Anesti, and indeed a mile or two farther on a cross-road appeared, bending sharply to the right, which evidently gave access to the castle, now conspicuous within a mile of them. Along a broad lane leading to a windmill, and thence by a narrow and winding cart track, lined by wych elms, through a wide expanse of corn land as far as the eye could reach, the travellers proceeded slowly to the vill of the manor, This comprised only a dozen or more of rude cottages or hovels, picturesque enough in their outward aspect from the herbs and mosses with which their mud walls and thatched roofs were covered, but affording few indications of interior comfort or cleanliness. These were ranged in an irregular street, but with a considerable interval between each, as, in addition to a garden and, in some cases, an orchard adjacent, every cottage possessed a tiny farmstead in its rear, consisting of a byrh, or fold, and a few covered sheds, serving equally as stables and barn-lofts. The church, an imposing Norman structure, stood close at hand, and not far from it the ancient Saxon manor-house, whose place was now usurped by the modern castle which towered in the background, and beneath whose shadow the whole village seemed to nestle. The Castle of Anesti, so called, was in reality a fortified manor house of the type so common in a later age on the northern Anestt.—The Manor. 5 borders, Advantage had been taken of a natural knoll or eminence for the erection of a castellated mansion, protected _ bya palisade and deep moat. On the lowest edge of the _ declivity the outer walls rose sheer above the winding track, _ which led to a massive gateway flanked by bastions, pierced so as to admit of a raking fire being directed against any attacking force. The approach being too steep to admit of the barbican being carried by a sudden assault, the castle was practically impregnable, for on all other sides it was protected by the steepness of the mound, and, moreover, was fortified at the base by a stockade and moat, accessible only at the postern door by a few stone steps, which one man could have defended against an army unprovided with re- gular appliances for a siege. The building itself was of rough stone from the neighbouring quarry, thick rubble walls, with angles or quoins and window and door-dressings of worked blocks. The principal windows were round-headed, divided externally by shafted mullions, and strongly latticed with iron. The rest were simple eyelets in the masonry. The high-pitched roofs of the outbuildings were topped with shingles, those of the hall and chapel being tiled, and also guttered with lead. Our travellers might easily perceive that the castle was occupied rather as a residence than as a garrison, for the battlements were ruinous in the extreme, the lattices of the windows eaten with rust, and even the great oak gate, cased and studded with iron, had a ricketty look, while all traces of the portcullis had entirely disappeared. However, there was at least a warder, posted at the wicket, who, on receiving the visitors name and business, cast open the gate upon its creaking hinges, and conducting the party through the gate- way, announced them in a loud voice to the notice of the 4 Court Life under the Plantagenets. serving-men who loitered about the courtyard. Several of these now hastened forward, and, after assisting the Church- man to dismount, conducted him within an inner gate or barrier. . . The ground-plan of the castle was exceedingly simple. The interior gateway opened on to a small courtyard, the sides of which were formed by the hall and adjoining chambers, the chapel, kitchen, bakehouse and dairy. These buildings formed, as it were, the inner circle of fortifications, being surrounded by the circuit of the walls inclosing an outer space. The dwelling-house consisted of a hall about fifty feet in length and thirty-five in breadth, open to the roof, the arches of which were carried on two rows of columns, the apartment being thus divided into two aisles with a central nave. The entrance was by a porch opening on toa | vestibule, screened off from the lower end of the hall, with doors to the buttery and pantry. On a lower level, beneath this vestibule, was an under-croft with a vaulted roof, which served as a cellar. There was no interior staircase, and access was only obtained to the upper part of the build- ing by a broad flight of stone steps which led from the courtyard to the chamber above the cellar. There was also a parlour adjoining the hall, which, like the upper chamber, was hung with canvas dyed scarlet, and was moreover decorated with a painted ceiling, these two chambers being used as the private apartments of the family. On to this parlour the chapel abutted, completing one angle of the courtyard, the other being formed by the domestic offices before mentioned, which, unlike the chapel, were entirely disconnected with the dwelling-house itself, and were all open to the roof, with the exception of a few small lofts, con- structed by means of boards laid across the ceiling joists. Anestt.— The Manor. ts In the great hall the lord of the castle, already apprized of the guest’s arrival, advanced to embrace him, with many inquiries as to his welfare. Richard de Anesti, although now past middle life, was still in outward appearance a young man. In figure he was short and somewhat slight, but firmly knit, and with limbs beauti- fully proportioned. His features were of the best Norman type, expressing both courage and intelligence. His beard was closely trimmed to the fashion of the day ; his dress consisted of a short green mantle, much weather-stained, fastened by a jewelled clasp upon his right shoulder; and beneath this was worn a long tunic, and close-fitting hose of fine red cloth. A peaked hunting cap and high boots com- pleted his attire. His only,arms were a long hunting knife, which hung in its sheath from a girdle worked with silver broidery. The history of his family was a common one at that time. Richard the Clerk, his grandfather, was by birth a Norman, educated for the Church, but devoting himself by preference to a literary and official career. After filling with credit a clerical post under the Seneschal of Normandy, at Caen, where, as at English Winchester, a central department of financial administration was already formed for the Duchy, and having further enlarged his mind by an experience of the elaborate civilization of Norman Sicily, and of the recondite processes of the Roman Curia, he had sought a larger sphere of ambition at the English Court. There, with quick insight and perhaps a true sympathy, he attached himself to the clerical leader, Roger le Poer, during the sharp struggle that took place in the first decade of the 12th century between the forces of national progress and feudal anarchy. This patron’s promotion to the post of English Seneschal, now no 6 Court Life under the Plantagenets. longer a mere viceroy, but a skilled justiciary, and the development of the old tribunal of household thegns in conjunction with the treasurer’s clerks at Winchester to form a great central court of justice and finance, with its headquarters henceforth at Westminster, furnished congenial work for the ex-scribe of Caen. Like many others of his clerical contemporaries, in spite of the sneers of baronial courtiers at the expense of “new men,” he had in fact founded a greater family, ennobled by genius and endowed further by the regard and gratitude of the Crown and nation with more substantial honours. 8 The Manor of Anesti may have been originally a military station on the great Roman road which led from London to Cambridge. Next, an agricultural villa growing up on the lot of some provincial veteran. Next, an Anglian “ham” or “stead,” with merely a change of lord and of name to its present title of the Manor by the Highway ; later still, a West Saxon thane’s bocland through the evanescence of the Anglian sub-kingdom. At the close of the 9th century part of the territory ceded to Danish colonists, and then, when the territorial distinction of the Danelaga had become as meaningless as the Danegeld itself, we find Anesti ap- parently falling to the share of Earl Harold in the practical division of England amongst the sons of Godwin; thus once more becoming the bocland of an English thegn, for Harold granted it with other lands to Alward, his hench- man. Alward’s fate is unknown. Perhaps, like many another stout Eastern thegn, he followed his lord to Hastings, and fell amongst the hus-carls round the dragon standard, or being taken in arms was degraded or exiled. In any case he was dispossessed, for Eustace the Frenchman held Anesti at Domesday survey. This Count, following the feudal license Anesti.—The Manor. z permitted at the crisis of the conquest, built the Castle, of which a tradition only survives, adding thus a final con- firmation of the strategic importance of the road-side settle- ment. During the Norman period Anesti continued to form part of the great honour of Boulogne, and thus it came to be granted, like many other manors of that titular peerage, to a useful servant of the king. Under Henry II. the honour passed finally into the hands of the Crown and the old tenants with it, to the great advantage of them all, and of none more than the family and kindred of Richard the Clerk. The latter, we have said, founded a new official family, or more truly a clan—brothers, sons, nephews, drawing salaries small indeed, but most acceptable in an age of short currency at the issue of the Exchequer, while they were far more richly paid by grants of lands out of the ancient demesne of the Crown. Before two generations had elapsed, off- shoots of this vigorous stock might be found in half a dozen counties of England. As for the founder’s lineal descen- dants, his grandson Richard, who has here been introduced to us, stepped into the hereditary manor, and settled down to the life of a country baron; while his younger brother, John, held a lucrative post at the Exchequer, and was fast founding a new county family, from gifts of Crown lands in Hampshire. In his boyhood, the younger Richard had been the companion of William, the son of Nigel, like his brother the King’s treasurer one of that remarkable body of clerks who were in turn justices and barons of the Exchequer, sheriffs, ambassadors, captains, and financial agents, or merely churchmen, courtiers, philosophers, historians and poets, sportsmen and wits, according to the varying demands of their royal master. This friendship he had not failed to cultivate during his rare visits to Court, until something like 8 Court Life under the Plantagenets. a close intimacy sprung up between the two men, who were so dissimilar in their modes of life. Perhaps the old clerical blood revealed itself in this instinctive yearning of the feudal vassal for the intellectual companionship of the highly trained statesman to whose subtle disquisitions upon the origin of political and social institutions he was never weary of listen- ing. Thus it was, in response to repeated invitations, that the son of Nigel had at length visited his friend’s mansion for a few days during the leisure of the Hilary vacation, having also business of his brother’s to transact within the county, in connection with the recent grant received by him from the Crown, of the rich manor of Essendon. After the first greetings had been exchanged, Richard de Anesti committed his friend to the care of the seneschal, in order that he might remove the traces of his long journey. Then supper was served in the great hall, and the whole household retired to rest shortly after sundown. The following morning the son of Nigel rose early, and after hearing matins in the chapel, and breaking his fast in his own chamber, he received the visit of his host, who ex- pressed a readiness to attend him, if he should wish to take the air in the fields of the demesne. Gladly consenting to this proposal, he was first conducted by the lord through the principal apartments of the castle. In all of these, and throughout the whole building, ‘the greatest simplicity of furniture was observable. Decorations there were none, ‘and the walls, except when rarely draped with coarse unfulled cloth or dyed canvas, showed the bare stone-work, unconcealed even by plaster. Several stools, curiously carved, a single sideboard in the recess of the dais, filled, however, with rich plate; wooden bedsteads in the great chamber, and truckle-beds in the hall; a few cushions, introduced by the Anestt.—The Manor. 9 deceased lady of the castle, and great plenty of joined stools and forms, with table-boards on trestles for the hall, formed the movable furniture of the castle. Again, the evidences of an agricultural rather than a military vég¢me were evident both within and without the building. Here a newly-flayed ox-hide hung on a spike in the great hall below the trophies of antlered heads and gleaming tusks. Mattocks and reap- ing-hooks kept company with iron caps and sheaths of arrows on the walls, while rusty plough-shares, horse-shoes, and empty grain measures were piled in distant corners, so that the Churchman playfully observed that here at least the prophecy seemed like to be fulfilled, that swords should be beaten into plough-shares, and spears into pruning-hooks. Within the courtyard was a smaller inclosure, which they visited, and which contained a curious assortment of birds and animals; namely, poultry of all kinds, together with ' peacocks, a parrot, and a pair of magpies, besides which there was a bear chained toa stake, and seemingly on the best of terms with an ape, and several large stoats, which latter, like the dogs (of which almost all breeds were represented), were free of every chamber in the castle. .Passing into the larger inclosure, formed by the principal buildings above-mentioned, they inspected the dairy of the manor, which contained, besides a number of shallow earthen milk-pans placed on _trestles against the walls, a few vats, a salt-jar, a vessel con- taining rennet, and a quantity of pressing-cloths hanging upon the rafters of the low roof. Within the. outer circle of the walls of the castle were situated the garden, or. plesaunce, and the orchard, in which the profusion of flowers, and shrubs, and herbs of all kinds contrasted strangely with the meagre crops of onions and other edible roots. On.the other hand, there were many pear-trees and -cherry-trees, while several IO Court Life under the Plantagenets. stunted apple-trees were allowed to exist for the purpose apparently, of supplying crabs for tankards and verjuice for festival sauces. Beyond the outer walls, as far as the eye could reach, was one unbroken carpet of springing corn ; yet however dense the expanse of crops viewed at a_ distance, Richard de Anesti and his guest found no difficulty in making their way by means of the cross-roads which led from the vill of Anesti to neigh- bouring towns or hamlets; being, as it were, the arteries, of the body politic of the Hun- dred; while the paths formed Fic. 1. by the headlands might be con- sidered as capillaries of veins, giving access at all times for every peasant farmer to his scattered plots. As they pursued their walk through the cornfields, Richard directed his guest’s attention to the fact that the whole of the arable land was divided into three great fields. On the north- east of the manor, surrounding the castle, was winter corn, that is to say, the several varieties of wheat sown in the preceding autumn, with some patches of peas and vetch. On the west Fic. 2, side was the seedland prepared for the spring corn, oats and barley, and drage, and towards the south an almost equal extent of fallow. Outside these three great fields was , Anesti.—The Manor. II a belt of pasture, some common to the cattle of the lord and villagers, with richer fields of pasture and meadow carefully fenced in and lying chiefly towards the south. The son of Nigel, who knew that the crops under his view belonged some to the lord and some to the tenants, was somewhat at a loss to comprehend the means of distinction between the plots of the several cultivators; but when they reached the plough- lands, Richard made him observe the mounds of turf by which the several strips were divided, those of the tenants in villein- age into half-virgates, and the demesne land into separate en- closures by a larger bank, together with a ditch, or occasion- ally by a low, quickset hedge, so closely cut as to form an Fic. 3. almost transparent barrier. Several plough-teams of oxen were at work here, four in each, and all double-yoked. . The ploughmen in their long smocks, bare-legged, save for their high boots, leaned heavily on the left hale of the plough, so that they seemed to lurch in their walk, whilst they shouted continually to urge on their teams or to direct the drivers, one of whom walked in front of each team armed with a long goad, by a liberal use of which he contrived that each beast should keep his proper place and bear his share of the draught. But every fifty yards or so the oxen, as if moved by common impulse, would lower their heads to the ground and stop resolutely, whereat the ploughman leaned against 12 Court Life under the Plantagenets. the spindle, and the driver threw himself upon the ground be- side the team; while the wearied animals, themselves blowing hard with distended nostrils and heaving flanks, sought to allay the smarting of their wounds with blows of their long tails and impatient stamping of their feet? Thus they would remain, Richard assured his guest} for half an hour at a time, were not the bailiff always at hand, whereas all who have driven oxen know that they must stop just three minutes to fetch their breath, and no longer, lest they should grow stiff; but none of these villeins and hinds, said he sadly, has any care at all for the lord’s interests—each seeking instead only his own ease or profit, that one.may save his labour, and an- other his team, when he is compelled to perform plough-work upon the demesne. When the'two friends had passed beyond the spring field where, besides the teams now engaged upon the second ploughing, many rustics were at work breaking up the clods with wooden mallets to lighten'the labour of the harrow, they entered upon the enclosed meadows and pastures of the demesne. Here the freshness of the ground and of the bud- ding thorn-trees was most grateful after the glare and dust of the open fields. Richard now described the work of hay- making, which, he said, was performed in the season by the cus- tomary service for the most part-of the cottiers of the manor, who were assisted by their wives and elder children, receiving twice a day plentiful rations of bread and meat, or salt-fish and cheese, washed down with large draughts of small ale thickened with meal. In the pastures .a small flock of milch ewes were now feeding, and-the son of Nigel was not a little astonished at this sight. “JT marvel. much,” he said, “ that.you:should prefer the thin and acid milk of these animals to.the rich and fragrant milk Anestt.—The Manor. ine of cows, since you must have abundance of pasture here for both.” “Not so,” replied his host, “for, unless you fatten at least half the herd at Michaelmas, and slaughter them for winter beef before Martinmas, there is small profit from them and great risks of loss from disease, though I grant you that if we were near some large town the case would be different. But as it is, some lambs die and others are weaned and fattened for the table, and it were evil husbandry not to use the milk of the dams for cheeses, which the labourers eat readily, and the remainder can be sold with a good profit at the fairs. So Fic. 4. much I learned from my brother and your fellow, John the Clerk, who hath, as you know, lands in Hampshire of the King’s gift, and there they will have nought to do with kine, but breed or fatten only sheep, which cam live on little com- pared with other beasts.” After questioning the shepherd as to the state of the flock, Richard led the way home across the pastures by a path or track which led directly to the folds beneath the castle wall. It was half-way noon before they entered the castle, and dinner was served in the great hall soon after, at which meal the whole household was assembled. After this was over the lord and his guest sat together over their wine cups, and con- 14 Court Life under the Plantagenets. versed upon the state of the country in respect of agriculture, The Churchman had many questions to ask on this score, and particularly as ‘to his friend’s own experiences, who replied with the following description of the cultivation of his demesne. “The manor of Anesti contains about 1,000 acres of arable, . pasture, meadow, and wood. It is divided into two almost equal parts—one held and cultivated by the lord, and the other by his free and customary tenants, The former is the demesne, which contains about 400 acres of ploughland, 50 of choice meadow and pasture, and as many of scattered woodland. Three ploughs are engaged in the tillage of the demesne, in which they are assisted by the customary services of the tenants, who provide usually six supplementary ploughs at appointed seasons. A small flock of sheep pasture in summer on the common of the manor, on the grassy fallows, and on the rank stubbles after harvest. Before November the chief part of the flock is either sold or killed, and salted for winter use, and the ewes and lambs folded for the season. The same is done with the cattle, though here several of the milch kine are fattened and slaughtered to eke out the precious winter pasture and scanty stock of hay. “Even so the ewes are largely supported on chopped straw and pease-haulm ; while the oxen of the ploughs are wholly fed in winter with sheaves of oats, though on holidays they are turned out to grass if the weather is favourable. “As for the horses, it is fortunate I have not many, and those only hackneys for myself and my men, for were it other- wise we should need to thresh out more than the whole crop of oats, leaving none for sale, and the cost of threshing to boot, for you may not give them the whole blade. Thus you will see there is little profit in stock, for except that the plough- Anesti.—The Manor. © 15 oxen must be kept alive, which are the chief source of wealth, and a certain number of beeves and muttons must be salted down each winter for the household, the business is a thank- less one. True that the stock sold at St. Simon and St. Jude often brings a good return, and that the fleeces and hides are especially valuable, yet you must buy again at Hocktide often as dear as you have sold cheap; and then every seventh year comes the murrain, which wastes all that you have gained meantime. Nay, there are but three things which pay for all the rest and something over. These are corn, and swine, and cheese. As for the other half of the land, that which is let out to the free tenants or the villeins, it yields a fair profit from rents, both in money and in kind. Formerly it was of more consequence to the lord, who shared as it were his tenants’ profits—he providing them with their outfit of seed corn and plough oxen, and they rendering services in labour. upon the demesne or tithes of produce. But now they pay more in money and less in kind, which is little to my liking. Thus I have but a small share in their concerns, though the farm bailiff sees that they perform their set-work punctually, while the seneschal regulates their suit of court and takes fines from them for the neglect thereof. In addition to these villeins there are the hired labourers who work on the demesne, and the serfs. Both of these form part of my household. However, the farm bailiff and plough- men, with the shepherd, the swineherd, and woodward, are still chosen, by ancient custom, from the villeins of the manor, and receive their fees and perquisites accordingly. But in order that these things may be made more clear to you, I will read to you, if you please, the last account of this manor which was rendered to me by my officers.” Hereupon Richard de Anesti rose, and, opening an oaken 16 Court Life under the Plantagenets. chest which stood in a recess, produced from it a bundle of small parchment rolls, one of which he selected and un- rolled, commenting upon its contents as follows :— - “This is the accourit of John the seneschal and Richard the bailiff. First they credit me with the rents of the manor and the farm of the mill for the past half-year. Also for the proceeds of the sale of pannage and underwood and the like. Then for the issues of fines for neglect of customary services or by way of composition for their remission, For example, the shepherd and his helps are fined for neglect of the ewes at lambing-time, the ploughman for careless ploughing, and others for neglecting to work upon the de- mesne on the days appointed; for breaking pasture and wood ; taking honey and the like. The crops grown last year were, of wheat, eighty quarters; of scurril and mixtil (which are, as you know, an inferior sort) thirty-six quarters ; of drage, twenty quarters ; of barley, eighteen quarters; and of oats, 121 quarters ; in all 275 quarters, being the produce of three ploughlands. Of these, sixty-seven quarters of wheat were sold, sixteen were reserved for the seed of sixty- nine acres sown this year, and one quarter was consumed in rations for the haymakers. Of the scurril, five quarters were bestowed on a carter, and three and a half on the dairy-woman. The whole of the drage was sold. Of oats, sixty-seven quarters were sold, forty-two and a half were kept for seed of ninety-four acres, five quarters were bestowed on a carter, and seven were consumed by the plough-oxen. Lastly, of barley, five and a half quarters were sold, four and a half were reserved for the seed of ten acres, and the rest was bestowed on the carter and the dairy-woman aforesaid. The stock of the demesne consists of the plough- oxen, the ewe-flock, the wether flock, and some hogs that Anesti.—The Manor. 1% were bought at Easter. Of these, one ox died and was replaced, several ewes were lost in the lambing season, and three of the muttons were eaten by the haymakers. The ewes produced rather more than a lamb apiece, counting those which were barren and those which died ; but more than half the lambs have been carried off by the sickness, and of the rest a considerable number were claimed by the Church for the tithe, and by the bailiff and shepherd for their perquisites, so that fifty only remain now out of nearly twice that number. But there is a herd of fifty swine, which the. swineherd drives into the woods and which increases greatly Fic. 5. and yields a large profit, especially from such as are penned and fattened on barley-meal in the winter. Besides this live- stock, I hold the fleeces of the ewes and wethers of much. account, and this season they were very heavy, and I have sold them a good bargain to Gisbert, the Fleming, of Ipswich, together with the fells of all the lambs and ewes that died, _the muttons that were slaughtered, and the dead ox’s hide. The cheeses made by the dairy-woman complete the produce of the year. There were 175 of these, weighing more than four hundred-weight , whereof 162 were sold, and the rest Cc 18 Court Life under the Plantagenets. were consumed by the hay-makers and harvesters and by the household. “On the other side, the expenses of working the farm are considerable. The bailiff, shepherd, ploughmen and carters, woodward and dairy-woman receive each a high wage. The three plough-teams must be shod, and the smith is constantly employed in the repair of the carts and implements. New utensils have to be supplied for the dairy, with sheets and canvas cord, pitch, buckets, and fifty other necessaries. Again, the threshers and dykers are ' paid through the winter by piece- work. In short, when all ex- penses are paid, there remains over only a profit of some thirty pounds, though the greater part of the cost of the household is de- frayed, without touchingthis sum, out of the products of the soil.” “T perceive,” said the son of Nigel, when Richard had ended his discourse, “the poor estate of a landowner who is not skilful in the management of his farms, and this perchance may explain the lowness of all direct assessments upon the land which I have often noticed. Hitherto, indeed,my own knowledge of these things has been drawn from surveys and valuations amongst the records of the Exchequer, which afford truly many superficial facts, as that the least estate in land, and such as is most commonly held in villeinage, is a half-virgate, which elsewhere is the land of one ox ; next to this a virgate, or the land of a single yoke of oxen; next a half hide, which is two virgates, or half a Anestt.—The Manor. 19 carucate ; next a full hide, or carucate, which is four virgates ; and lastly, a knight’s fee of four hides. Therefore I suppose that in every hide or carucate there will be four yoke of oxen and ploughs, according to the custom of agriculture, together with common of pasture and as much meadow as there may happen to be. And now note this thing, that the land is not assessed at the Exchequer according to the number of acres, but according to the number of ploughs ; for these denote the real wealth of the land, and not the extent measured by the perch and cord. Consider now that if there be a manor of five hides in which there are ten ploughs, as there are here, and another of the same extent in which there are but five ploughs, is it not probable that in the latter much of the land is marsh or thorns, or otherwise unsuitable for tillage; and therefore would it not be manifestly unfair that a close assessment should be made of each according to the acre and not by the carucate? Thus it hath seemed to the wisdom of our great King, so that with us the assessment of the land is now made by ploughs, each being taken to be worth twenty shillings. Besides this assessment, which is chiefly intended for such as do not hold by military service, there is the scutage paid by the holders of knight’s fees, namely, forty shillings for each fee, which is ten shillings on the hide or five shillings for each plough, in most cases; so that the tenant in. socage and the tenant by knight-service shall both be assessed at the same rate, namely, one-fourth on the carucate for the one, which is five shillings, and forty shillings on the knight’s fee for the other, which is also five shillings on the carucate, or if it be sometimes more, then it is to be considered that here the tenant is assessed ratione militia, and that it must still be more to his advantage to pay than to serve in his own person, as he must otherwise do. For my 20 Court Life under the Plantagenets. own part, however, I would not have a general assessment of the carucate as being worth twenty shillings in all cases, but according as it is found that the land is good or bad, and the number of the plough teams actually used. “Tt is strange,” said Richard, “that the land alone should pay for the maintenance of the King’s state and the welfare of his kingdom.” “ Nay,” rejoined the other, “it is best seemly that the King, whose the whole land is, should receive his own according to his needs. Rather it is strange that the holders of land should render no greater rent or services, and other incidents, for that which cost their forefathers nothing to obtain, whereas a merchant who hath acquired goods by industry or purchase must contribute far more thereof to the revenue of the Crown, and, indeed, can scarcely call them his own but by the King’s favour.” “ And yet,” said Richard, “such a one will be careful to make good his losses at the expense of the farmer, whose corn and wool he will buy at a lower rate, giving this extortion as his excuse; so at least it hath always happened to me in my dealings with such merchants,” “JT grant you,” replied the son of Nigel, “that these men are subtle knaves ; but the profits of their merchandise arise rather from the luxury and unthrift of the age, whereby they have no need to cheapen their purchases from the producer, but will often buy from him at a good price, knowing that they will be repaid tenfold by their venture. But more of this another time, for I see that there are those approaching who have business on hand.” As he spoke the steward ushered into the lord’s presence © several of the superior tenants of the manor, whilst at a respectful distance a larger body of peasants followed, and Anestt.—The Manor. 27 remained crowded together at the lower end of the hall con- versing in whispers, Next the lord’s seneschal entered, accompanied by the chaplain, bearing a roll of parchment, pen, and ink-horn, and approached the dais. “The court of the manor is holden to-day,” explained Richard, “and yonder are the suitors. For you must know that I have caused the court to sit in the afternoon, to the end that the villagers may attend after the teams are driven home, and also that a holiday shall by no means be consumed in the hearing of plaints and trespasses. But now, if you will, let us sit apart and watch the proceedings.” Meanwhile the seneschal had taken his seat, the free suitors ranged themselves in front of the dais, and the court was proclaimed by one of the lord’s officers. Thereupon the seneschal received the excuses of those who failed to appear in several suits, to whom new days were assigned.: Next presentment was made of such as owed suit to the court and were then absent. “T perceive,” said the Treasurer, “that this is the court of the free-tenants, as well as that of the customary tenants.” “You are right,” replied his host, “and you can see that there are twelve of the former, who may be called the body- politic of the manor. These report upon the whole state of the manor, and adjudge all civil suits and trespasses. Here also all admittances are made and other formalities. The villagers, too, are subject to the jurisdiction of this court, and attend as the helpers of the free tenants, their evidence being taken on oath in cases which concern their own estate.” Meanwhile the suitors had made divers presentments con- nected with the customs, profit, or boundaries of the manor. Next, what reliefs, escheats, wardships, marriages, waifs and strays, or other incidents, had accrued to the lord. Next, of 22 Court Life under the Plantagenets. various trespasses for which fines were assessed upon the of- fenders, such as making a new path across the lord’s enclo- sure, pasturing cattle in the same, fishing in the lord’s water, resistance to the lord’s officers, breaking pound, overstocking the common, damaging the lord’s wood, grinding corn at an- other mill than,the lord’s, etc. Next, that certain officers of the manor had not properly discharged their duties, under which head several neglects were punished with slight fines. Next, the ale-tasters presented one who had sold ale that was below the standard strength, and the miller was heavily fined for taking toll by a measure larger than the standard. Finally, several customary tenants were admitted, and also proof was made of such villagers as had married their daughters with- out the lord’s license, permitted their sons to be ordained, neglected to repair their tenements, omitted to perform their task work upon the demesne, fines being assessed in all these cases. The presentments being ended, the seneschal dismissed the court, and the suitors quietly withdrew. As soon as they were alone, Richard began to inquire of the son of Nigel the origin of the Barons’ Courts of England, who replied as follows :— “You are doubtless aware that these courts are of several kinds and of several degrees—for some are larger than others, as in the case of Hundreds granted by charter and Hon- ours, and for these there is usually a chief court; but for the rest, each manor has its own court, provided there are tenants there sufficient for the same. And these tenants owe suit to the lord’s court, whatever their rank may be, yet their standing there is not entirely the same. For it is doubtless within your own memory that the free tenants of many manors were both of gentle birth and good ability ; so that they were in some sort the lord’s assessors, and gave judgment upon the Anestit.—The Manor. 23 presentments of the villagers, or of their own motion. Thus, too, it is evident that this institution was taken from that off the folk-moot and the Hundred, and also that it. has this likeness to the proceedings of the King’s Court itself. For, whereas it is related that formerly the thegns and franklins assisted the great earl in his public court on folk-moot, giving judgment there upon the presentments- of the men appointed from every township, and likewise in the Hundred assisting the king’s officer for the preservation of his peace, so, too, the barons and other helpers of our lord the King himself in his Court seem to resemble these freeholders, inasmuch as they are bound by their tenure to render like suit to their lord, and to assist him as is aforesaid. But of late the place of that earl -hath been filled by the sheriff, being more skilful in such parts, and those barons have still more recently been superseded by the King’s Justices. These sheriffs and jus- tices then have assumed many of the ancient functions of the suitors of old (who now for the most part excuse themselves from attendance, except such as are of peasant blood), and so it has come to pass that neither the king nor the baron (the earl being long since overlooked) is accustomed to preside in court ; that in their absence the better sort of free suitors has fallen away, and that in default the officer of king and lord order and dispose of everything at their own discretion in their masters’ interests.” After this, Richard de Anesti began ‘to tell his guest of the Abbot of St. Alban’s great court, held in the open air ‘beneath a certain tree there, and also of a curious custom which prevailed from time immemorial in the neighbouring county of Essex, and which he had himself witnessed during his residence at the several manors held by him there as of the honour of Boulogne. Which custom was, namely, 24 Court Life under the Plantagenets. this; that each year, shortly after Hock-tide, the bailiff or other officer of every liberty or Hundred should cut from a willow-tree a great bough, and after shaping it to a certain length and thickness, he should carry it up to the principal manor-house within the liberty, and there wrap it in a fair linen cloth, as though it were an image, and lay it upon a pillow, and set it in the highest place in the hall. And after it had tarried there some while, the bailiff should take it up again and carry it by sun-shining to an appointed lane, whither every tenant who was bound to watch and ward this staff ac- cording to his tenure should repair well-armed. Whereupon they being all assembled, the mouth of that lane was closed with a great bar of timber, with a bell hanging there-to to stay such people as would pass by. And the bailiff having taken note that all the tenants were present, straightly charged and commanded them to watch and keep the ward in silence and due order, so that the King should be harmless and the country scathless until the sun-rising. And when the sun had risen, the lord of that principal manor repaired thither, and taking up the staff scored thereon with a knife a certain token that the watch had been truly kept. After which the bailiff should convey it to the lord of the next manor, speak- ing certain verses in the Saxon tongue. And so the staff was watched and warded in like manner throughout every Hundred of Essex, as far as a place called Atte Wode, and there it was cast into the sea. After several days passed in these rustic pursuits, varied by hunting, and an occasional entertainment afforded by some straggling jongleur, the son of Nigel prepared himself to re- turn to London, where the King was about to hold his Court at the beginning of Lent, in order to decide the cause of the ambassadors of Castille and Navarre, as well as to transact Anestit.— The Manor. 25. other business of state. Richard de Anesti thereupon made | known his determination to bear him company, having also business in that city respecting certain debts owing by him to Hakelot, the Jew; and being moreover desirous of fining with the king that his castle of Anesti might be safe from the late ordinance for the pulling down of divers castles in those parts since the late rebellion. Therefore, on the Thursday following his arrival, the son of Nigel set forth upon his re- turn, accompanied by his host with a sufficient following. 4 CHAPTER. LL. LONDON.—THE CITY. ON the evening of the second day after their departure from Anesti, our travellers found themselves approaching the north-eastern suburb of London. The country through which they rode was rich grass-land, abundantly timbered and watered by clear and rapid streams, which flowed into the river Thames. Many picturesque houses with fertile gardens and orchards were scattered over this pleasant land- scape, to which the massive battlements and stately spires of the distant city formed an imposing background. Leaving behind these suburban villas of the wealthy citizens, having made the passage of the river Lea at Stratford, they halted presently at Aldgate. The great gate-way was still open and indeed its recesses were lined with movable stalls, the owners of which, vied in commendation of the excellence of their respective wares, while groups of lepers and other piteous mendicants invoked the alms of the charitable. The appearance of the strangers proving satisfactory to the city serjeants, they were allowed to pass through into the shadow of the overhanging gables. Hence they rode westwards along a broad avenue which debouched on to Cheapside, and so up the incline to St. Paul’s Church, where the son of Nigel was to part with his companion, since he intended to push forward to the palace of Westminster, instead of so- journing at the comfortable residence which he occupied as a 26 London.— The City. a7 canon of that Church. But first he bade one of his serjeants escort Richard de Anesti to an honest herbergeour near by, promising further to acquaint his brother, John the Clerk, ot his coming to London, and adding that his brother the Treasurer expected an early visit from his old friend to his official residence at Westminster. The following morning, accordingly, Richard was aroused by his host, soon after sun- Ja eaceve Tund{ I lareft chef denaler’e | Pout os aap enhatnxa. eugleverrs Tafunia ¢ lape/|la trove ta nuuele lature Welk 4 $ lambesh Yagraz Ritebeame, LA pt AX \ te aghufefer pal Hence CraplQre Bulfopetgee Brllinefaute ogate © Fic. 7. “i te rise, with the news that his brother was below awaiting his rising. After a warm greeting had passed between the brothers, Richard expressed an earnest wish to view once more, after an absence of many years, the sights of the city, and to make himself better acquainted with the pursuits and pastimes of its inhabitants. To this proposal his brother cheerfully agreed, and without further delay they sallied forth together unattended. As they proceeded eastward, John 28 Court Life under the Plantagenets. drew attention to the ground-plan of the city, which, he observed, was enclosed by a line of walls except on the side of the river, where they were long since decayed. He next showed that there was a central avenue from east to west, from Aldgate to Newgate, with narrower streets, parallel to this, intersected by innumerable lanes. Beside the walls and the river strand, the houses were less densely packed, and there were also open spaces at several points where the great markets were held, besides the cimiteries of a hundred churches, and the precincts. of the monasteries. Nevertheless, he admitted that the general effect produced to the eyes of a stranger was that of a labyrinth.of houses, which was due, probably, to the irregular lines of the streets, and the narrow- ness of the lames and alleys. The houses of the citizens in the several wards through which they passed were built entirely of wood, with one or rarely two gables facing the street. The lower part of these houses was usually of solid timbers, but the projecting gable above was merely a framework filled in with plaster, the ex- ternal surface of the entire front being usually daubed with whitewash. The roofs were thatched with reeds, or straw, or shingles, and: rarely tiled, and the windows. were protected at the best only by hinged lattices of wood or iron. Each house possessed a courtyard, and often a garden at the rear, but none exceeded two storeys in height, the ground-floor being the shop, warehouse, or workroom, and the first floor the dwelling- rooms of the family. In some cases, however, stalls were ‘erected against the outside wall, protected from the weather by pent-houses which overhung the pavement. The roads were unmade, and the footways before the houses were un- evenly flagged with natural stone. The garbage from the houses was thrown into the deep gutters, whence it was London.—The C: aly. 29 removed at long intervals, by the city scavengers, in carts, out- side the walls. Moreover, these gutters were flushed with a filthy torrent of water, owing to the practice of washing linen and scouring clothes or furs in the roadway. Fowls, pigs, and even milch-kine roamed freely about the streets, and fierce-looking dogs preyed upon the garbage, in the company of kites and crows. None of these inconveniences, however, were marked by our two visitants, and Richard gazed around him with wonder and delight, as the various objects of note were pointed out to him by his companion: the churches, convents, and schools; the mansions of the wealthy mer- chants and the lodgings of the nobles; the shops of workers in metals, leather, cloth, fur, and other principal trades; the forges of the shoeing-smiths, already ringing in the still morn- ing air, and the barbers’ basons, surreptitiously filled with blood ; lastly, the hostels, and other houses of entertainment, such as the cook-shops, pie-shops, wine-taverns, and ale- houses, Still more interesting to Richard were the open markets which they visited in turn, for besides the numerous huck- sters, who cried fish, bread, and other victuals in the streets, or sold them from door to door, and the carts filled with wood, or charcoal, or water, stationed at the principal cross- ways,—the main business of the purveyors of victuals was carried on in the open spaces, paved, and suitably appointed for that purpose, and which, as the morning advanced, were frequented by throngs of eager buyers. Among such were Gracechurch market, for the produce of the eastern counties; Newgate, similarly appointed for that of the north parts, or of the west, besides Smithfield, Cornhill, and the Cheap itself, with Billingsgate for fish and merchandise landed by ships at the Hythe or St. Botolph’s wharf, under the protec- tion (and exaction) of the keeper of the Tower. 30 Court Life under the Plantagenets. In each of these markets the various bales of merchandise were laid out upon the pavement, to allow of a complete inspection of their contents, for none might sell by the sample, and, moreover, the quality of the wares was liable to examination by the officers of the market. Here, too, were stalls for the butchers and fishmongers, with temporary sheds or booths for the protection of the costly wares of the greater merchants. In all these markets there was a prodigious uproar from a babel of tongues, with general merriment on the part of the buyers and onlookers at every ludicrous incident. Among the chapmen themselves, however, quarrels were rife, and the city serjeants had frequently to interfere, to avert a serious affray. The last of these centres visited by the brothers was Smithfield, where the great horse-fair of London was held every six weeks without the city walls. Here the citizens seemed to be bent as much on pleasure as on business, or, more truly said, their business was conducted in a pleasurable manner. Many nobles on horseback, wealthy traders, and royal grooms and purveyors, were here to be seen critically inspecting the chargers and palfreys of English, Spanish, and _Flemish breeds, whose paces were skilfully displayed by the horse-keepers. Not unfrequently, by special request of some influential purchaser, several horses were tried against each other, mounted by boys, along a course that was hastily cleared by the goodwill of the spectators, who appeared to take the keenest interest in these equine contests, cheering the horses or riders by their names, and sometimes even wagering upon the result. In another part of the field the brood-mares, cows, sheep, and swine, with their young ones running beside them, were exposed for sale, together with plough-oxen and various kinds London.—The City. 31 of agricultural implements. Long before Richard had gazed his fill upon this animated spectacle, his brother drew him away in the direction of the river, where, he said, they would be assured of the best dinner to be got in-London at one of the cook-shops for which this neighbourhood was famous. Their way led them by the west front of St. Paul’s, where in the great place between the castle by the Newgate and the Church the city militia was wont to muster in time of domestic war, of whom John affirmed he had seen as many as 20,000 under arms in'the time of the late troubles. Thence they proceeded to one of the wharves below the -castle, where they took boat down stream for St. Botolph’s wharf near the Tower. Richard could not fail to admire the great breadth and purity of the river, which, it being then low water, ran bright and clear over shoals of gravel. Many fishermen were busy plying their nets, and many a stately swan rode upon the clear waves, while flocks of geese and ducks basked upon the grassy banks. Behind them in the far distance rose the battlements of the great palace of Westminster, and before them the royal standard waved from the Tower above the masts of the shipping and the wooden sheds and warehouses upon the quays. Impelled by the swift stream and the willing arms of the watermen, who augured from their appearance something more than the statutory fare of one penny, the landing stage was soon reached, and a few moments later, John the Clerk was showing the way into a long, low house, cleanly appointed with tables and settles, at which numerous well-dressed guests were already seated, engaged in discussing the several dishes of the day. Having taken their seats, John called for a capon in crust, which was presently brought to them with several kinds of bread, and a handsome measure of wine 32 Court Life under the Plantagenets. fetched from a neighbouring cellar. Their meal ended, and the modest reckoning paid, they sallied forth, not unwillingly, into the fresh breeze blowing from the quays, where they sat and watched the ships coming up from the Pool, with the flood-tide, to their moorings off the wharves: wine-ships of Gascony, woad-ships of Picardy, . scuts of Flanders, Essex and Kentish whelk-boats, and the great vessels of Almain and Norway, with wild-looking sailors crowd- ing the bows, and chanting, bare- headed, their hymn of praise for a toilsome voyage safely brought to end. As it was now almost noon, Richard was’ minded to seek the house of Hakelot the Jew, to whom he was indebted in divers sums of money, raised to defray certain charges, and especially of the fine which he had lately been compelled to pay at the Exchequer in respect of his daughter's marriage. His brother likewise had occasion to return to the Exchequer upon some necessary business, and therefore they took leave of one another for the present, with a promise of meeting again upon the Monday following, when a certain miracle and other plays and pastimes were arranged to be presented and of which Richard was desirous of being a spectator. The latter accordingly held on his way alone to the neigh- bouring Jewry, a foul and squalid quarter, where the over-' hanging houses almost shut out the light of the sun. Here he succeeded, without much difficulty, in discovering the object of his search, and being prepared with his principal money and usance, he exacted from the reluctant creditor a full re- London.—The City. 33 lease for all his obligations, formally executed and sealed with Hakelot’s seal, bearing the device of a crowing cock, whereby he was discharged of the said obligation, and of all others incurred by himself or his ancestors to Hakelot and his fellow Jews up to the present date. Thereupon, after receiving back the original bond to be cancelled, he gladly departed out ot __ the place, and bent his steps towards the Guildhall. Here Richard chanced to’ meet his kinsman, William de Glanvill, who had attended to pursue a certain cause on behalf of the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul’s, and who gladly offered ~to accompany his cousin to that church, where they would be able to converse freely. In this favourite resort alike of the devout, the studious, and the worldly-minded, they walked to and fro, or sat, as they listed; and here Richard, having explained the cause of his presence in the city, William de Glanvill began forthwith to speak of the incredible wealth and extortions of those usurers, together with some curious information respecting their privileges, with all of which he was familiar by means of his residence at the Exchequer. And first he said that they held the most part of their present liberties by charter of King Henry, grandfather of the now King, in whose reign also, he observed, the Cistercian Order was first brought into England. This in turn reminded him of a saying of Master Map concerning a Cistercian who became a Jew, that he marvelled that the said Cistercian had not rather become a Christian. These Jews, however, he con- tinued, were even before the Conquest under the protection of the Crown, and subject therefore to various tallages and fines to the king, who was the absolute lord over their bodies and lands and chattels, and without whose favour they had no assurance for their safety. It was to be remembered, in- deed, that their condition was in no way worse in this respect D 34 Court Life under the Plantagenets. than that of other aliens, nor perhaps of the king’s demesne men. Moreover, it was well known that the seizure of a Jew’s chattels was only to be likened to the case of any Christian —~whether clerk or layman—who practised usury, though for these last time for repentance was given during their lives, or to make atonement with the Church by their dying be- quest, otherwise the chattels of all such Christian usurers were straightway seized to the king. Therefore, if any Jew either transgressed the laws of the kingdom or was adjudged a tres- passer against the king’s right, he lay at the king’s mercy, and must needs ransom himself accordingly, and in default of payment, the community of the Jews with which he was associated must discharge the same. It was well-known to the residents at the Exchequer, he added, that these Jews were notable forgers of charters, so that they would oft-times exact from the son of such a one debts falsely alleged by them to have been incurred by his father, whose charter they feigned to produce. Therefore, it happened on certain occa- sions that the land impledged was restored to the debtor if it seemed to the court that those Jews were unworthy of credit, and especially if the principal money and usury had been already made up out of the profits of the land. But however this might be, it was certain that their dealings were wisely regulated by the Crown, else they would often be deprived: by force of that which they had gained by craft, and perchance slain, by those whom they had abused, or else forced to depart the realm, whereby much inconvenience would be sus- tained by reason of the prohibition of usury among Christian men. For the rest, he said, the Jews in England were com- pelled to live apart from Christians, and to wear a badge of their race in their dress, and to perform their ceremonies and instruction privately in their synagogues and schools. Also, it London.—The City. 35 was forbidden them to take in pawn any consecrated vest- ments or plate, for by their dealings with religious men great scandals had heretofore arisen, so that it was well-known that Aaron, the great Jew of Lincoln, had boasted that he was himself the maker of (lay mild, the rich shrine of St. Alban, by reason of =) a his loans to the Abbot Simon there. Also, that all intercourse between Jews and ' Christians was utterly forbidden by Holy Church, and especially the common prac- tice of needy and wanton men in becoming the bailiffs and servants of Jews. William de Glanvill did not fail to add, as the chief cause of the great prosperity and dan- gerous example of these and other aliens, their habit of combination and mutual in- telligence, so that the credit of each member Fic. 9. was sustained and employed for the advantage of the whole body. For although these Jews had their regular abode in certain cities and not in others, yet you should never fail to meet with some one of them wheresoever you might be, and each would take up the other’s usance. Besides, the principal Jews were often to be met with at the Court, or elsewhere, on the king’s business, being then appointed the king’s agents or purveyors for divers causes, and receiving again what was expended by them at the hands of the sheriffs or of the king’s chamberlains. Thus he was aware that even now the wife of Bruno the Jew, of London, had provided the moneys required for rebuilding the Church of Waltham. As soon as William de Glanvill had finished speaking, Richard in turn proceeded to ‘relate his own experience in his dealings with the Jews in the course of his great suit respecting his uncle’s lands,. 36 Court Life under the Plantagenets. “In the first year of my plea,” he began, “when I sent John, my brother, beyond seas for the King’s writ, I borrowed the forty shillings which I then spent from Vives the Jew, of Cambridge, upon usury of a groat a week for every pound, and I kept that money during fourteen months, so that the usury amounted to thirty-seven shillings and four pence. And at Easter following this, Vives lent me again sixty shil- lings at the same rate, which I kept six months, and the “usury was twenty-four shillings. And when I crossed the water to purchase the King’s writ, Comitissa the Jewess, of Cambridge, lent me four pounds and ten shillings at the same rate, the usury of which was fifty-four shillings for nine months. And when I went to Stafford to consult with my advocate, Bon-Enfant the Jew lent me fifty shillings at the like rate, for which I paid as usury sixteen shillings and eight pence, being for five months. And when I pleaded in the Arch- bishop’s Court at Canterbury, Dieu-la-Cresse the Jew lent me forty shillings at the same rate, which I kept two months, and paid five shillings and four pence. And when I crossed the water to fine with the King in Gascony for license to appeal to Rome, then Jacob the Jew, of Newport, lent me sixty shil- lings at the same rate, which I was not able to repay within thirteen months, so that the usury amounted to fifty-two. shillings. And when I sent my clerks to Rome to appeal, Hakelot the Jew lent me ten pounds at the rate of three pence a week for every pound, and I kept this money seven months, paying sixty shillings and ten pence for the usury. And afterwards, when I pleaded in the court of the papal assessors, this Hakelot lent me sixty shillings at the same rate, for which I rendered as usury nine shillings for three months. And afterwards, in the same court Jacob the Jew, of Newport, lent me seventy shillings at a groat for the ‘NOILNAJANOD UO «aVAVLS» HSIMAL London.—The City. 37 week, the usury of which amounted to thirty-seven shillings and four pence for eight months. And it was not long after this that Benedict the Jew, of London, lent me ten shillings at two pence for the week, but I neglected to repay it for three years, so that the usury amounted to twenty-six shil- lings, And when I went to Winchester about my writ of appeal to Rome the second time, Jacob the Jew lent me a hundred shillings at three pence, which I kept ten months and paid for usury fifty shillings. And to gain money for my clerks to go to Rome, I borrowed four pounds from Hakelot at the same rate, which ‘Gost me twenty-four shillings for six months, And when I was before the King in his court at Windsor, Dieu-la-Cresse lent me forty shillings at the same rate, for which I gave him eight shillings for four months. Also Bruno the Jew lent me half a mark at three-half-pence a week, for which I paid fifteen pence after ten weeks. And at the [court at Reading Hakelot, whom I found there, lent me thirty shillings at three pence, which I kept for five months, paying for usury seven shillings and six pence. And at the court at Woodstock, when I gained my suit, Mirabella the Jewess, of Newport, lent me four pounds and ten shillings at a groat a week, which I kept for a year, and the usury whereof was seventy-eight shillings. After this Hakelot again lent me divers sums, in order that I might pay the re- ward I had offered to Ralph the King’s physician, and when I paid my fine to the King at the Exchequer, amounting alto- gether to thirty-six pounds, whereof the usury amounted to near thirty pounds, though the rate of usance was the lowest that I had hitherto paid, namely, two pence, which, though it — be the rate appointed at the Exchequer, yet are there few who may have moneys for less than a groat.” When Richard had ended his account of these borrowings, 138 Court Life under the Plantagenets. which were set down in a small roll among the several docu- ments with which he was provided on this occasion, he began to request his kinsman with great earnestness to make known to him the state of commerce and the ordinances thereof within the city of London, as far as he was acquainted with the same, who, having gathered the objects of his inquiry, paused awhile for reflection, and presently answered him as follows. CHAPTER III. LONDON.—THE GUILDS. ‘©T WILL make no mention here,” said he, “of the origin of the king’s prerogative for the regulation of commerce. Concerning this you may consult, if you will, my master, the Treasurer, whose knowledge of these things far exceeds that of other men. But what the conditions are of the traffic of merchants, both natives and aliens, within this city, and equally throughout the realm, and of the mysteries established here, I will briefly set forth, And this you must note first of all, that some merchants of this land are more favoured than others, which favour is due to them by the terms of their charters only, and not as some have thought common to all men by the laws and customs of the realm ; for no man can have an absolute property either in the land or any pro- duct thereof, but only by service to his lord, and the king is the lord over all merchants, except they have some other. “ And first of native traders such as the citizens of London. These men have long since redeemed the uncertain services and base condition of such as flock together upon the land of a lord or of the king to practise merchandise, having fined with the king for their charter, whereby they are assured, amongst other things, of the following: to render the ferm of their county at the Exchequer by the hands of their sheriffs, with such allowances as may be seen in the Great Rolls there ; to have their own justiciar, and to do justice to 40 Court Life under the Plantagenets. one another according to the customs of the City ; to be quit of the assessed taxes which are rendered in the Hundreds of England, and to be free of all tolls everywhere throughout England. Moreover, the king has granted that they shall enjoy free chace in the forests around London, and he has placed their river in defence, that none may obstruct the passage thereof, nor otherwise hinder the enjoyment of the same ; and so of their highways by land, which none may straighten or disturb; yea, and of the sea itself, for these are their avenues of commerce. Yet although by this their charter and by the confirmations thereof, they are thus firmly estab- lished, and by the due payment of their ferm, and of such tallages and contributions as may be required or desired of them, are quit of all other charges soever, they nevertheless are charged with the due government of their City. And in default hereof the king shall either exact a grievous penalty — or resume his government over them. Thus I have seen in recent times a city amerced for divers neglects or trespasses, as for murder undiscovered, for harbouring outlaws, for the escape of prisoners, for default of justice, for assisting the King’s enemies,—as happened to many towns in the late troubles,—with many other offences against the public safety. “And besides these liberties, which are common to the whole body of the citizens, there are divers others for which the several societies of merchants, and every freeman for him- self, must make a fine with the king. Thus the guilds within every city render an annual ferm at the Exchequer, as the weavers and fullers and vintners and cordwainers, with divers others, and without this they are reputed adulterine and unlawful. Moreover, the citizens render a common fine to the king for license to trade in certain commodities, as they do in most cities of England to buy or sell dyed cloths, London.—The Guilds. 4 In addition, all merchants whosoever are distrained for the king’s Customs at his ports and barriers, but at the ports and gates of their own cities they pay the dues accustomed to such as have franchise of the same, and also for the support of their city so long as they have the government thereof. “ Lastly, these merchants, each for himself and all together, are accustomed to fine with the king for his license or pro- tection,—as to export corn, fish, cheese, honey, grease, and other victuals, besides wools, hides, and tin, and to import wines, woad, fur, wax, silk, and many other merchandises. “And by this you may see that the king has a claim upon every kind of produce of the country which is carried beyond the seas and whereby his state may be diminished and the land impoverished by the greed of a few men. Moreover, some recompense is due to him for his cost and charges for the safe-guard of the seas, and for the preservation of rivers and highways. “Now, as for alien traders, they too fine with the king for license and protection, but in a greater degree, since both they and theirs are in the king’s hand to do therewith as he pleases, and especially because they stand most in need of his protection by reason of the contempt and envy in which they are held by the subjects. And truly they are well able to pay these impositions by reason of the great profit that they have through their dealings, Besides these aliens who fine thus for license to bring their ships to land at the king’s ports, and to traverse the kingdom towards the great cities or fairs, paying only reasonable tolls, and afterwards to depart in safety, there are others who for a long time past have sojourned here continuously, chief amongst whom are the Flemings, first established in this country by our King’s grandfather, for the advancement of the art of cloth-making, 42 Court Life under the Plantagenets. and the Jews of whom we have spoken. These aliens, from their first residence here, have been under the especial protection and control of the king, and both are equally obnoxious to those of English race, and notably the Flemings, because of their advancement of the mysteries of weaving, fulling, shearing, and dyeing of woollen cloths to the pre- judice of the wool-buyers and shippers, as well as of those merchants who buy and retail imported cloths with great profit, for now the exporting of wool is restrained on behalf of these weavers and others, and there is even danger lest foreign wool should be imported into the realm.” “Behold, brother,” Richard interrupted, “ you advance now as it seems to me two contrary things; for if they who formerly shipped their wools abroad shall now sell them here, and they who bought foreign cloths shall now buy native- made ones, wherein can you show them to be damaged by the custom that you have described ?” “Can you then not guess,” replied William de Glanvill, smiling sadly, “the difference which exists between the true and the supposed interests of the subjects, otherwise the objections that I have just now made would seem to be of none effect? But see, the whole matter lies thus. In the first place, these men are for the most part aliens, hateful and suspected on that account alone to the commonalty. Again, the restriction of shipping native wools, and also the increase of foreign wools imported, has the effect of lowering the price against the seller. Moreover, the retailer of native cloths doth lose much by the strictness of the assize, and also the quality of the same is far inferior to that of imported cloth, and the price is small in proportion, whereas that of cloths im- ported, both skarlets and rays, is suited to the luxury of the age. And if you would know why these things are so London.—The Guilds. 43 ordained, it is that the king cares little to see the pursuit of agriculture exchanged for that of grazing, to the advantage of a few over-great merchants, but rather that the country may retain its wealth, so that the number of plough-lands to be taxed shall not be diminished, and at the same time that the cities may be rendered more fruitful by the industry and contributions of these weavers and their fellow-craftsmen. As for the Jews, they are an infinite source of wealth to the king, for they pursue their traffic under such rigorous con- ditions that they can scarce avoid the breach of some of them, whereby they shall forfeit all their goods to the king, or pay a grievous fine by way of ransoming themselves ; so that if by the protection of the king they have grown rich at the expense of the subjects, so by the vigilance of the king’s officers they are equally likely to disburse a large part of their gains at the Exchequer.” “T do now fully perceive your meaning,” said Richard, smiling in turn; “but proceed now, I pray you, with the matter of the trade regulations of this city.” “These truly, as you may believe,” replied William de Glanvill, “are even more burthensome than those imposed by the laws and customs of the realm, and there are many who count themselves oppressed hereby, through the advan- tage gained by the rich at the expense of the poorer sort of craftsmen, ‘who are forbidden, as it were, to better their con- dition by their own skill and enterprise, but must still be “content to minister to their own brethren. Thus we may see how an ordinance that once was of good effect, to the advantage of all alike, hath been abused through the lust of power and wealth, to the undoing of deserving citizens. But as for our noble city here, you must needs have observed that each craft or guild has its own place assigned to it, whereby 44 Court Life under the Plantagenets. both the excellence of its work is enhanced, and likewise the convenience of traffic therein, especially by reason of the repression of all deceits, and the adjustment of prices through the vigilance of the guildsmen themselves. “So you will find the saddlers settled at St. Martin’s, the cappers in Fleet Street, the fullers in Candlewick Street Without, and the cooks and vintners beside the river of Thames. In the like manner there is a separate market appointed for eachof the great staples of commerce, as wool, cloth, corn, cattle, woad, and others, besides the butchers’ shambles and fishmongers’ stalls. All these trades, then, are wholly governed by their own bye-laws and the customs and ordinances of the City, and, some say, by the assizes of the realm; and such as offend against these are heavily condemned. Thus I remember to have seen a baker drawn through the streets to the pillory, bound upon a hurdle, and a loaf of light weight hung about his neck. And an equal punishment is reserved for the frauds of those who work in false jewels or furs; forestallers of provisions, who board the ships before they have reached their moorings, and bar- gain for the whole cargo, with intent afterwards to raise the prices ; and of the fripperers, who turn old coats and mantles, which they offer for new. Finally, the quality of all things for sale, and their prices, are fixed by the appointed officers in each liberty or ward, such as the ale-tasters and others, Fic. 10. London.—The Guilds. 45 Moreover, every man is restricted to work at his own craft. Thus a lorimer may work nothing but horse-furniture, and a painter or joiner nothing but saddle-trappers, a cordwainer must not patch shoes, nor a cobbler make them. “ And now as to the regulations for alien merchants within the City itself, which indeed, like those imposed by the Crown, are most numerous and burthensome. These men, as soon as they have passed the creek called Yanlet, are amenable to the jurisdiction of the City. Then, when they have moored “to Vv «Ss . ( a IX ZA as NS OES | I RAR U7 Ve ROK) SRA OO SOs ONS IMO SOO SORE ORRY Fic. 11. in the river, and have paid the king’s Customs and Prises through the hands of his Chamberlain, and the port dues of several kinds according to custom, they are free to land their wares at their own leisure. Nevertheless, they may not stay longer in the City than forty days, nor refuse any reason- able price for their goods, nor sell them to others than citizens, and then only by wholesale. They may not ware- house their bales, nor in any way conceal their wares, neither may they lodge with any but the host who shall be assigned 46 Court Life under the Plantagenets. to them, and at all times they must buy freely, according to their means, of the commodities exposed for sale within the City. Some aliens there are, however, who enjoy many privileges not accorded to the rest, and who are free to deal as they list, paying the rightful customs, such as the Danes and Easterlings. “And now behold I have told you all the conditions of the commerce of this city, and equally of the whole realm, as far as the same is known to me; yet doubtless there are many other things worthy to be noted, which are known only to those who are prac- Fic. 12. tised in such matters.” “Nay, brother,” replied Richard, “I give you abundant thanks for your learned discourse, whereby a man may com- prehend the excellence of the kingly power which is reflected in the government of this city ; whereby also our King and his subjects are equally benefited without injury to any man, but rather to the lasting salvation of the bodies and souls of all the Christian people.” CHAPTER IV. LONDON.—THE GAMES. AT an early hour on the following Monday, the brothers went abroad together, as had been already agreed between them ; and Richard asking what miracle it was that should then be set forth, John replied that although this was the feast of St. Perpetua and St. Felicity, yet it was not intended that their passions should be represented at that time; “for,” said. he, “the legend is both obscure, and also difficult to realize. Since doubtless you are aware that the saint first-named was one of a company of martyrs who suffered, as some say, under Severus the Emperor, in the parts of Mauretania ; who, being thrown into prison, together with her playfellow Felicity, and several noble youths, who had likewise refused to offer sacrifices to idols, lay there in the speedy expectation of death, And there she saw a vision, as of a stairway leading up to heaven, but hedged with naked swords, and guarded by a monstrous beast. And by this token she knew that she should suffer for Christ’s sake; and so, forsaking father and husband and child, she remained steadfast in her faith unto the death, being thrown to the lions with her fellow-martyrs. And therefore, since there is now an interval between the mysteries of our Lord’s Nativity and of His Resurrection, it is intended to represent to-day the fourth miracle of St. Nicholas, for the sake of example to the boys: . 48 Court Life under the Plantagenets. in the schools, whose festival, or rather carnival, it will be on the morrow.” The miracle was appointed to take place at the Church of St. Paul, and there they found a large concourse of spectators already assembled. Immediately in front of the west door of the church a spacious scaffold had been erected, draped with canvas. On opposite sides of this stage two pieces of cloth were laid, each of which represented a permanent scene in the play; on the right hand being the city and palace of Excoranda, in Asia, and on the left hand the capital city of the Agarenes. In the background, the door of the church itself was left open, representing the Church of St. Nicholas, without the walls of Excoranda. The stage furniture consisted merely of a few raised chairs and a table-board on trestles on either side, with a silver cup, and certain wooden trenchers, The personages of the play were already grouped in their respective positions; the scene on the right being occupied by Geton, the Christian king of Excoranda, with his queen Euphrosyne seated beside him, and engaged in caressing a fair boy of twelve summers, who was nestled at her feet. At a respectful distance stood two choruses of men and women, who acted now as attendants, and later as comforters of the bereaved parents. On the opposite side of the stage Marmorinus, the Pagan king of the Agarenes was enthroned, clad in armour with a crown upon his head, and surrounded by his thanes, likewise armed. When the spectators had’ gazed their fill upon this zab/eau, a bell was rung as a signal that the play was about to begin. As soon as silence was obtained, the armed knights quitting their motionless atti- tude before the throne of King Marmorinus, and advancing one by one, went through the form of rendering homage London.—The Games. 49 with the accompaniment of a chorus of extravagant praise, culminating in the request that their lord the king should name any wish that could be gratified by his faithful fol- lowers. Thus incited, Marmorinus, with a haughty gesture, bade them go and bring all nations under his power, which command some of their number at once hastened to execute. Here the first scene ended abruptly, Marmorinus and his Court resuming the semblance of waxen effigies, while the group that occupied the scene on the right was now set in motion. Here a procession was formed, headed by the royal family, which wended slowly through the door of the sup- posed Church of St. Nicholas, preceded by priests and choris- ters chanting an appropriate hymn in praise of the saint. No sooner had this procession disappeared from sight, than several armed knights made their entry, as though coming from the court of Marmorinus on their boastful mission. These then rushed with drawn swords into the church, whence the throng of worshippers immediately issued in wild flight. towards the city. All the fugitives were now seen to have made their escape; but the youthful Prince of Excoranda was not among them, having been left behind, as the audience knew well, in the confusion. Presently the knights reappeared, leading the boy, fast bound with cords, and so returned across the stage, to the city of the Agarenes. Thus the third scene opened with a joyful chorus of knights, who claimed the successful accomplishment of their task, and dedicated the captive to their master’s service. Thereupon Marmorinus, after an unctuous hymn of praise to great Apollo, proceeded to interrogate his new slave as to his parentage, and particularly as to his religion, who, nothing daunted, replied that he was a king’s son, and that he worshipped God, who made the seas and all things else, including King Marmorinus himself; at E 50 Court Life under the Plantagenets. which bold speech there was a loud outburst of applause among the audience. It was in vain that Marmorinus in dumb show sought to explain that Apollo was in fact the creator in question, for the boy indignantly repudiated this concep- tion of a senseless idol, which, he observed, amidst repeated applause, was both deaf and dumb, and by no means able to help itself. But the king, much perturbed, commanded him to be silent, lest Apollo should be enraged, and so destroy him. Now the scene changed once more to Excoranda, where Queen Euphrosyne was seen returning frantically towards the church in search of her son. Not finding him there, she was overcome with grief and despair, which she expressed in most mournful lamentations. The chorus of female comfor- ters then came forward, but failed to restore her composure. At length she was entreated to confide her sorrow to the saint, which she did in a most pathetic hymn, binding her- self by a vow not to eat flesh or drink wine until the lost one was restored to her. Hereupon, King Geton entered, and expressed his approval of her pious resolution, which was to be confirmed on the morrow by a solemn service in the church. At this point the church door was thrown wide open, and the interior was brilliantly illuminated whilst this service was being performed, after which the queen was seen on her return to the palace, laying meat and wine upon a table, for the entertainment of the poor, she herself being bound by her vow not to partake of them. The view of these preparations in the distance now seemed to rouse King Marmorinus, for he began to call loudly for meat, which was surreptitiously brought to him from Queen Euphrosyne’s table. Meanwhile, other attendants had brought a ewer and towel for his hands, and so with the remark that he never remembered to have been so hungry before, he fell London.—The Games. 51 to; the spectators following every mouthful with the keenest interest. Having satisfied his hunger, he next called for wine, and by an afterthought desired that his slave, Geton’s son, ’ should bear the cup. At this speech the little prince began to weep bitterly, and to bewail his hard lot. Then Marmorinus _asked impatiently what harm he had received that he should lament himself so grievously; who sadly replied that he was bethinking him of his home and parents, from whom he had been parted so long. Moreover, that he could not forget he was a king’s son, and his bondage was hateful to him on that account. To this outbreak Marmorinus replied with a sneer, that he might spare his tears, for there was no power that could lift him forth from his bondage. The last words were spoken by the heathen king in a loud voice, and with the ring of a challenge in them that caused the uninitiated among the spectators to hold their breath, and a deathlike silence ensued as all turned their eyes to where the appari- tion of St. Nicholas was about to appear. Then a draped figure issued from the church, stalked rapidly across to the palace of the boastful Marmorinus, who, with all his followers, fell flat upon their faces, and taking the young Prince of Excoranda in his arms, bore him, with the cup still in his hand, to the outer edge of the carpet on the right, and drop- ping him there, stalked back again to the church, and dis- appeared, Presently, a citizen of Excoranda, passed by, and halting to examine the youthful prince attentively, as though suspecting him of the theft of the silver cup, pro- ceeded to question him sharply as to ‘his business there. To which the latter replied very simply, that he had found himself there, thanks to good St. Nicholas; adding that he was King Geton’s son. At these words the citizen ran towards the king, bidding him rejoice, for that his son was 52 Court Life under the Plantagenets. without, praising St. Nicholas. But foremost Euphrosyne ran to her son, and clasped him in her arms, and wept and laughed, and then, remembering her vow, and how it had been answered, she opened the fulness of her heart in a pas- sionate hymn of thanksgiving to God and to St. Nicholas. Then the play ended, leaving her kneeling thus, and the chorus softly chanting the Copiose caritatis. After this pleasant entertainment, the spectators adjourned for dinner; but in the afternoon Richard went at his brother’s invitation to witness the learned exercises of the scholars of London, which were publicly held on the eve of the carnival. Here those scholars who had been selected from the three great schools of St. Paul’s, St. Martin’s, and the Holy Trinity, to give a display of their acquirements, were drawn up by their respective masters, in the presence of the master of the schools of London, with whom several learned doctors were associated as examiners, among whom Richard recognised his old friend, Jordan Fantosme, himself the master of a flourishing school at Winchester, and several others. These doctors, each in turn, put a number of questions, for the most part in logic, grammar, and arithmetic, which were on the whole satisfactorily answered by the scholars. After the several classes had been put through the more elementary propositions in these subjects, several of the most advanced ~ scholars were next called forward to display their skill in disputation. This, however, was merely a conventional exercise, for the schoolman who could argue without begging the question was yet unborn, and the inductive methods of the Eastern philosophy had not as yet reached the Western seats of learning; or rather, Master Abelard of Bath was without honour in his own country. To the proposition, “ Whether rhetoric is useful or no,” one London.—The Games. 53 scholar, starting from the antecedent, showed that it is the science of speaking well, and that if it is the science of speak- ing well, it is useful. Now, it is the science of speaking well, and therefore it is useful. But to this another scholar, starting from the consequent, proved that if it be useful it must needs be the science of speaking well. But it is not the science of speaking well, and therefore it is not useful. Then, as though to balance these conflicting statements, a third scholar, by means of discarding the invidious negative of the preced- ing formula, showed that it is not the science of speaking well, and therefore it is not useful ; and yet that it is the science of speaking well, and therefore it is useful. The reputation of the useful science in question having been thus happily saved, to the great edification of the spectators, these select scholars joined in ringing the changes on a predicative syl- logism, uplifting their voices in a kind of rythmical chant. Anon, at a sign from the master, they began again, convert- ing or reflecting the original proposition after the approved method. All went smoothly until it came to the turn of a St. Martin’s scholar to continue the argument, who, in advancing the plausible statement that “aught that is just is honest, and naught that is honest is base, and aught that is just therefore is not base,’ provoked a smile from the initiated portion of the audience, and ageneral titter among his school- mates, especially those of St. Paul’s, and, finally, the dire wrath of his own master, who, leaping to his feet, exclaimed furiously, “Oh, greatest of fools, how often have I not told thee that a particular abdicative must not on any account be converted?” This outburst caused renewed laughter, amidst which the unorthodox dialectician retired in disgrace, his place being filled by another scholar, who completed the for- mula correctly, 54 Court Life under the Plantagenets. After this came exercises in arithmetic, in which one of the scholars, in answer to questions put to him by the doctors present, explained the several forces of the quadrate number, illustrating his demonstration by means of a block of wood ; while another gave a similar account of the decimal number, illustrated by a row of white pebbles used as counters. At the conclusion of these serious exercises, the doctors took their departure, together with the master of the schools and his subordinates, after formally dismissing the scholars in a short speech of commendation and exhortation. The latter, however, did not quit the scene, intending, according to cus- tom, to entertain the spectators—who were for the most part their own relations and friends—with the recitation of topical verses, usually in the form of a dialogue, and illustrated by the freest pantomime. The subject of the present perform- ance was the adventures and misfortunes of a country- man in London, a theme which, as in the instance of the famous Norfolk bumpkin, was then and has ever since con- tinued to be justly popular with a section of the public. Not unwillingly, Richard escaped this buffoonery by accepting his brother’s invitation to visit the several canons of St. Paul’s who were among the number of his friends or kinsmen, in which agreeable occupation they spent the remainder of the afternoon until vespers. , On the following morning, being that of the carnival, Richard went forth betimes to witness the festivities of the season, in the company of his brother ; for, as he observed, although he had now both viewed the principal sites of in- dustry within the city, and was perfectly instructed in the state of the national commerce, there yet remained to be seen the sports and pastimes of the citizens, other than those exercises of religion and learning, all of which he judged to London.—The Games. 55 be no slight indication of their spiritual and temporal wel- fare. With this proposition John the Clerk fully agreed ; and although he added there might be many evidences of degeneracy in the civic character, such as an increased love of luxury both in dress and diet, a passion for gambling, and the yet more deplorable vices of drunkenness and lust, which bore deadly fruit in the physical and mental decay of the rising generation, as well as in the fatal frays, incendiarism, and political turbulence that too often disgraced their city, it was yet impossible to deny the hardihood of the age, which delighted more than ever in the rough and dangerous sports of their ancestors, Among these, hunting was to be men- tioned first, both the chase of the forest beasts, boars, wolves, and wild cattle, as well as the less dangerous pastimes of coursing and hawking, in all of which the citizens were famed for their courage and dexterity, and the free exercise whereof in the adjacent forest and plains they esteemed among the greatest privileges of their charter. Besides these, there were the games practised by the youth of the city at different seasons of the year, as the game of ball in winter, cock- fighting and bear-baiting at Shrovetide, mimic battles in 56 Court Life under the Plantagenets. Lent, and water tournaments at Easter; with games of greater precision in the summer time, such as archery, hurl- ing the javelin, and quoits, together with wrestling and foot- races, Then, as the evening drew on, the sound of minstrelsy would be heard, whereat the young men would cease from their games and hasten to choose their partners for the dance among the maidens. By this time the brothers had mingled with the crowd of citizens, for the most part standing idly before their doors, and engaged in looking on at the innumerable cock-fights organized by the scholars of London.. Almost every boy went about on this day with his fighting-cock under his arm, and in all the open spaces rings were formed, within which the rival champions were pitted against each other. In the after- noon there was a general move towards Smithfield, where the more dangerous and exciting sports of bull-baiting and bear- baiting were proceeded with. Thus the day wore on till twilight fell and the stars appeared overhead, and the curfew was rung from the churches. Then all filed homeward, and the streets became dark and deserted, and the watches were set, and the barriers were drawn. Richard likewise sought his lodging, where he took a short leave of his brother, pur- posing in a few days from thence to visit his friends at Westminster, on the occasion of the King’s coming to London for the great council to be held in the cause of the Spanish kings there, CHAPTER V. WESTMINSTER.—THE KING’S HOUSE. AT an early hour on the following Saturday, Richard de Anesti, after hearing matins said in the Church of St. Paul, set forth in the direction of Westminster, which he reached after half-an-hour’s walk along the broad strand of the river Thames to the hamlet of Charing, and thence past the pleasant gardens and orchards and suburban villas of the wealthy citizens. Here he was at once ‘admitted, by the northern gate, within the outer walls of the palace, where he was conscious of the unusual stir occasioned by a royal visit. The spacious courtyard was thronged with valets busily polishing hunting-spears, horns, and other imple- ments of the chase; grooms leading chatgers and palfreys — magnificently caparisoned ; falconers from the neighbouring mews seated on the stone benches against the walls, allowing their hooded falcons 7 to bask in the warm rays of the morn- rf ing sun ; huntsmen holding in the leash shaggy wolf-hounds, slender -coursing- dogs, and wiry vulperets ; whilst to and fro hurried an endless stream of clerks ZERO and serjeants, and men-at-arms upon — the business of the great King, who re- quired of all other men that punctuality and order which he wholly neglected in his own person. Fic. 14. 57 58 Court Life under the Plantagenets. The Palace of Westminster, as befitted the centre of Norman government, was itself an unequalled specimen of Norman architecture. A worthy lay-companion to the Saxon abbey which still indicated the political importance of the Church as the wise counsellor of the temporal ruler. The plan of the great block of buildings which faced Richard de Anesti was, in fact, that of two palaces joined into one. The new palace lay to the north, being surrounded on that side and towards the west by the new courtyard, on the east or river side by a spacious garden thickly wooded down to the very edge of the Thames, and on the south by the outer walls of the old palace. The buildings in this enclosure were few and formal in character, this being, as it were, the official wing of the palace ; for since the Red King failed to supple- ment his stately hall by appropriate chambers, his successors had continued to inhabit the residential portion of the old Saxon palace during their infrequent visits to London. Be- sides this great hall, the nucleus of the greater palace fated /never to be built, the new palace comprised a large building on the north-east side, occupied by the two chambers of the Exchequer. Beyond this house, at the south-east angle of the great hall, was a square tower, formerly connected with the defence of the river gate of the palace, but now used as an official residence in connection with the Exchequer house and the royal Chapel. The old palace lay within a separate enclosure to the south, its principal apartments forming an irregular line on the east side of the old courtyard, with a long wing extending on the south as far as the precincts of the Abbey. The walls of the courtyard on the north and west were embattled, whilst on the south the palace was defended by an outer palisade sur- mounting the banks of the swift stream which flowed into the Westminster.—The King's [Louse. 59 Thames at Millbank. On the east side the gardens were con- tinued down to the river, with various outbuildings in their south-east corner. This palace was purposely built by the Confessor in close proximity to the Abbey, to which it origin- ally lay open on the west, the sacred edifice having been util- ized in many respects as an official department, at least for the custody and administration of the royal treasures and records. On the north lay the great hall of the old palace, abutting on to the south end of the hall of Rufus, and forming with several smaller chambers the south-eastern angle of the palace. The chief peculiarity of this noble suite of apartments lay in the fact that they were all situated on the first floor, being built over a series of low vaulted cellars, which were now used as the departments of the great officers of state—the butler, larderer, and the rest—as well as for the accommo- dation of the resident courtiers. In the south wing of the old palace were placed the kitchen and other offices, which extended indeed in an irregular line westward as far as the Abbey, and eastward to the river. Crossing the courtyard towards the river front of the new palace, Richard entered at a low doorway in the flanking tower of the south-eastern angle of the building, and after ascending a long winding stair, he found himself in a low but cheerful chamber, furnished in the simplest manner, and resembling a monastic scriptorium rather than the apartment of a palace. Evidences of clerical pursuits were visible in parchment rolls and vellum-bound books which lay upon the oak table and filled the iron-bound chests against the walls. In the deep recess of one of the turret windows a middle-aged man, in the habit of a canon, was seated, gazing abstractedly upon the numberless wherries 60 Court Life under the Plantagenets. and barges which thronged the river beneath. A stranger saw in this listless spectator of the busy world without, a man prematurely aged by the austerity of his religious practice, not more than by deep study and the cares of office, which had pinched his once handsome features and furrowed his lofty brow. A scholar and statesman he sat there pro- claimed, the son (it was whispered) of England’s great min- ister in the radical process of reform which followed the anarchy of Stephen’s weak rule—that minister who was him- self the nephew of the great judge, statesman, and financier to whose genius the official constitution of this country owes the lasting form which has served as a model to every European country. The Treasurer, for it was he, rose at Richard’s approach, receiving him with great kindness and with many assurances of his readiness to serve him in his business at the Court. “At this very hour,” he observed, “the King will converse familiarly with the courtiers and household officers upon all manner of subjects; therefore I will, if it please you, intro- duce you into the King’s Chamber, where you will both see and hear many things of interest.” To this proposition Richard de Anesti eagerly assented ; whereupon the Treasurer, motioning him to follow, led the way through an inner doorway and down a short flight of stone steps, by which they descended into the hall of the Rufus, whence through a doorway at the upper end they reached the hall of the old palace. This was now used as an apartment of semi-state, where the King usually dined, the upper end being screened off from the chamber, in which he transacted his important business of state alone, or with the assistance of such of his household ministers as he might summon to his presence. This chamber, which Westminster.—The King’s House. 61 they now entered, was hung with canvas newly dyed of a deep crimson, and the walls were here and there emblazoned with the royal arms. The floor was strewn with dried rushes, and at the upper end of the room was placed a chair having the arms and legs carved at the extremities in ivory, to represent the head and feet of a wild boar, the seat being draped with scarlet cloth. There was no other furniture in the chamber, though the recesses of the windows were fitted with oaken benches, which were strewn with a miscellaneous litter of hawking gear, musical instruments, and the latest literary productions of the Court. A large and varied assembly of courtiers filled the chamber, broken into several groups, each engaged in animated con- versation. All were standing, and Richard noticed that whether speaking or listening, every man kept an eye upon the inner door of the room, which was guarded, like the outer one, by serjeants of the Chamber. The Treasurer, after exchanging brief but cordial salutations with those who stood nearest him, took advantage of the uninterrupted buzz of conversation to inform his companion in a whisper of the names and rank of the courtiers who were present, with a few remarks upon the character of each “The Church of God,” he said, “is especially honoured by our most Christian king in his wise selection of his ministers. Of such indeed is the whole number of the bishops, though not of the household, except Richard, Bishop of Winchester, who is now, as you are aware, absent on the King’s business in Normandy, and him of Bayeux, who is equally trusted - with the royal confidence, which is likewise the cause of his frequent absence from the Court. However, there stands the central figure of all learning in this age, the great Bishop of London, conversing, doubtless on some point of doctrine, 62 Court Life under the Plantagenets. with Ralph, the Dean of the Church of St. Paul, and his namesake, the Almoner of Westminster, who preached to us last Wednesday a truly stirring discourse upon the fashion- able follies of the age. Next to these you may see the new Abbot of Peterborough, a man well known to myself for his love of all good books, many of which he has transcribed with his own hands. He is now at Court on a matter connected with his monastery, and he purposes to take back with him, to be copied, my own book, “ Tricolumnus,” which I have agreed to lendtohim. The tall and burly priest with whom he talks so earnestly is Master Roger de Hoveden, one of the King’s chaplains, and also a skilful justice, especially in the visitation of the forests beyond Trent. He, too, is a great compiler of history, and has already copied the “ Tricolumnus” with his own hand, and many other books beside. Not far off stands another of the King’s justices, Master Walter Map, whom all men know for his bitter speech of such as shall displease him.. You may see round him a company of other learned and facetious writers. There is John of Salisbury, surnamed John the Little, a person, however, of prodigious learning, and now, as you know, Bishop of Chartres ; there, too, are Master Walter the Archdeacon, Gervase the Clerk, and the memor- able poets Jordan and Benoit, who are now most in favour with the king and his gay courtiers, to the grief, as some say, of Master Geoffry Wace, who himself has appetite enough for all their praises. ' These now are gathered yonder in the hope of an encounter between Master Walter, who is privileged by reason of the King’s favour to him,and my lord of Ely, whom he hates even worse than he does a Jew or Cistercian. Yonder, too, are Robert Abbot, of the Mount, in Normandy, who is at Court on business of his monastery, a learned historian of the things done in his youth, and with him the Westminster—The King's House. 63 two brethren of Glanvill; that is, Randolph, the wise justice, who is even now engaged upon a certain treatise touching the laws and ordinances of the King’s Court, taking the form thereof from my own treatise upon the customs of the Ex- chequer ; and Osbert, a clerk of the King’s Chamber, who is but lately returned from escorting the King’s daughter to Sicily. These two are ever near the king’s person, with those of his private family, as the brethren of Estutevill, and others of whom I will speak further at another time. Lastly, neither standing nor talking, are two great ones of the Court, playing at the chess in virtue of their familiarity with the King. These are Bertram de Verdun, another of the King’s justices, who it is said, is destined to go towards Spain as bearer of the great award between the Spanish kings, and Master Thomas, who keeps the third roll on behalf of the King at the Exchequer. You may see that it is a mighty contest between them from the eager expression of those who overlook the game, amongst whom is my own brother William, of the Exchequer, for whom I composed my treatise before mentioned. The King’s chamberlains are in attendance upon him in his closet (except Robert Mantel, who has the custody of the Queen’s household, that is to say of her person), and there, too, you would doubtless find the sene- schal and marshal of the household. There, I think, you have all who are now present, though I marvel much where is Richard de Luci, the justiciar.” At this point the Treasurer was engaged in conversation by Robert de Monte, as he was commonly called, and Richard, left to his own devices, approached the principal group of speakers, between whom a most animated discussion was being carried on with profound learning on both sides, enlivened now by brilliant sallies, and now by a telling 64 Court Life under the Plantagenets. anecdote. The matter under discussion was the reality of dreams and apparitions, respecting which one party held that such manifestations were regulated by the bodily and mental state of the subject, while another party was of opinion that all men are liable to supernatural experiences for which it is not possible often to assign any cause or motive. On the side of the former, John of Salisbury argued as fol- lows: “ You will grant,” said he, “that there are five distinct species of dreams or apparitions, and that the figure and sig- nification of each is distinct. These then are sleep, sleepless- ness, nightmare, oracle, and vision; whereof the three first only concern ordinary mortals, and all of these follow natural causes, as fatigues or excesses of the body which oppress the motions of the heart and brain. In the remaining cases there is a true vision or inspiration, but only to very holy men, or else as a warning to tyrants, and even so rarely to themselves, but through the mediation of a prophet or sooth- sayer. Wherefore, I say, it is not permitted to the baser sort to receive such manifestations as they commonly pretend unto, especially amongst the Welsh, but only to the great and holy ones, For just as these have the power after death of revealing themselves in a vision or by a miracle, so during their lives these only are obnoxious to the same manifestations.” “Now truly,” broke in one whom Richard recognised as Master Walter Map, “you have spoken inadvisedly, urging doubts rather than probabilities. For if these things have been manifested to princes and hermits, is it not likely that the same should have happened to other men who are of the same flesh and blood as themselves. Moreover, such appear- ances are too numerous to be denied, and all men are obnoxious to them who chance to meet with them, whether Westminster.—The King's House. 65 asleep or waking, Know, then, that this earth is peopled as well by men as by spirits, the one sort inhabiting the open plains and cities, and the other the recesses of the woods, moun- tains, and streams. These, it is well known, are the descendants of the fallen angels, who have places neither in heaven nor in hell, and these, according to their nature, love to vex and torment the race of men, without any respect of persons. Truly there are miracles and visions also, of which you have spoken, but widely different, for these are the manifestations of the good angels of God and the saints. And it is easy to see that you have never dwelt in the land of the fairies, as I have done, and Master Giraldus, who, were he now present, could relate many adventures of his countrymen with these spirits. I myself, passing through the glens of that country by night, have seen strange shapes amongst the rocks and trees, and have heard strange noises as of some one sobbing and groan- ing, and at other times of singing and laughter in the air. Nay, smile not, for there are many living who could affirm the same. And in order to convince you of the truth of these things, I will relate a prodigy which was told to me by a certain bishop a KH who was privy to the whole =u C= (Ss affair. “There was formerly a priest in the diocese of St. Asaph, who was indeed both free and merry, loving ease and fat living as though he had been bred a Cistercian, and yet 7 F Fic 16, 66 Court Life under the Plantagenets. acceptable to all men for his fair conversation and learning, careful of his people and bountiful to the poor. This man, walking abroad one morning by the strand of a certain lake, found there a beauteouis maiden sitting, dressed all in rich apparel, weeping. And he speaking benignly unto her, and asking the cause of her sorrow, she made answer that her brethren had left her so, and would say nothing further. Then the priest, taking compassion upon her, and being further mindful of her beauty, took her home to his house, where she dwelt with him to his great contentment. And after some months there was a great plague in that parish, whereby many fell sick and died, in this manner. For there appeared unto them in the night time an apparition of a Fic. 17. fair woman, with long hair dishevelled ; and all to whom she appeared died before evening of the next day. But some one bolder than the rest rose and followed her, who fled before him to a certain sepulchre, and there entering, vanished. Now when this was told to the priest, he, marvelling what it should mean, went straightway and told it to his bishop; and the bishop bade him open the sepulchre and take up the body that he should find within, and strike off its head, and then bury it again, besprinkling the sepulchre with holy water and laying thereon a rood. The night following, therefore, the priest went with certain others to the sepulchre, but when they were come thither they found it open and the corpse gone. And the next night the priest lay awake Westminster—The King's House. 67 and watched, and behold at midnight his friend rose softly and went forth, and he, following, saw her enter in at a neighbour’s window. Thereat he made an outcry, and the woman fled forth, and he pursuing her till she came to the sepulchre, and there entering vanished. But he, having a sword, opened the sepulchre, and found therein a corpse in the very likeness of his friend, which he raised, and smote off its head, and fetched holy water and a rood, and did as the bishop had told him. Whereupon the plague was stayed, but the priest died the next day at nightfall.” As he concluded his story, Master Walter looked round Fic. 18. with undisguised triumph at the awe-struck countenances of most of his hearers ; but after a short pause a jovial-looking knight, who had edged his way into the circle and listened with an amiused countenance to the archdeacon’s story, broke the silence with a loud voice. “Brother,” said he, “ this is a strange thing that you have told us; but I myself have experienced the vanity of these dreams and portents which oft-times lead men to their own destruction, whereof I could relate a remarkable instance.” “Hear Sir Hugo de Gundevill,” cried several of the by-. standers. 68 Court Life under the Plantagenets. “T will tell you then,” resumed the latter, “what I re- member to have once seen and heard, not long ago, when I was holding the assizes in Nottinghamshire. For a certain soc-man beheld a vision’ of one clothed all in red, who called to him with a loud voice, saying that he should surely perish by the water unless he should become four-legged like a beast. This the man repeated three times, and vanished from his sight; who, thinking that he should save his life from drowning in Noah’s flood, and being full of the conceit of this vision, straightway began to walk upon his hands and feet, to the amazement of all his neighbours, who in- quiring the meaning thereof, he answered them nought to the purpose, thinking verily that he alone should be saved from that flood, and afterwards possess their lands and goods. But not long afterwards one of the neighbourhood was found dead, eaten as it was thought of wolves, and then others, both men, women, and children, likewise devoured. And because this evil was hitherto unknown in those parts, being champaign, and the season summer, and suspecting a deeper mischief, the sworn men of that Hundred presented the soc-man himself for that he had killed men by witchcraft, that is, as a man-wolf, against the peace of our lord the King. And being sent to the ordeal of water, he was convicted ; whereof word was brought unto me, being in the neighbour- hood, and the man himself was likewise brought before me by the sheriff, with the witnesses and the record, and there by the new Assize his right hand and right foot were stricken off, and his house carried outside that village and burnt, and he himself was led to the nearest seaport, there to ‘embark and abjure the kingdom. And the same man appeared to him by the way, in a vision, saying that unless he should become without limbs, like a fish, he should perish Westminster.—The King's House. 69 in the water. Whereupon he cursed him in his heart, seeing that he was already undone by the trial of the water through his own misfeasance. And coming next day to the sea- side, the wind being contrary, he was bidden by his keepers to enter into the sea, according to custom, which he, seeking to do, stumbled and fell upon his face into the water, and being powerless to raise himself, and holding fast to the bottom, perished miserably.” At the conclusion of this tale some of the company laughed, whilst others looked grave, but Map smiled bitterly, as was his wont when crossed in argument, saying thus: “Truly, brother, I marvel that one so learned in the laws should yet be ignorant of the Assize of Solomon, who would have divided the body of a child justly and impartially between two claimants, and if there had been four of these, doubtless he would have offered to quarter him. But you, it seems to me, made no such equal division when you caused one who stood convicted for having four feet to lose one of these and a hand besides, making a greater monstrosity hereof than any that you now deride. I see plainly, how- ever, that you have the art of computation to make of two and two five, such as my lord bishop yonder is especially skilled in by virtue of his office, for taking of fees and spiritu- alities within his diocese.” ? “You speak irreverently, Master Walter,” cried the dig- nitary thus unceremoniously alluded to, who had caught the last remark, which indeed was evidently intended to reach his ears. “Neither know I to what you are referring, unless, indeed,” he added, with a desperate attempt to turn the laugh against his old enemy, “you are as usual sneering at the system of the Court and Exchequer, counting upon the well-known license which our King permits to his 70 Court Life under the Plantagenets. poetasters, just as other great lords are wont to amuse themselves with the trifles of their jesters.” “Not so, most reverend lord,” replied Map scornfully ; “I was but thinking of a certain story that I once heard of a bishop who plundered his clergy, a judge who demanded unjust fees from suitors, excusing himself when he was manifestly convicted of these extortions by the plea that he was confusing Angevin money with sterlings.” This sarcasm provoked a general laugh at the bishop’s expense, who, flushing with shame and anger, drew himself up to his full height, and striking the top of his head with his open hand (one of the numerous theatrical gestures which he was accustomed to display), exclaimed furiously, “Now, by God’s eyes ! ” Here, however, he was interrupted by a subdued cry of “ Peace! peace! The King!” and Richard de Anesti turning his eyes quickly in the direction of the general gaze, caught sight of the well-known figure of the great King moving with easy grace amongst his courtiers, exchang- ing a jest with one, administering a covert rebuke to another, and pausing for a few moments of grave consultation on affairs of state with a third ;—to all men alike courteous, decisive, and imperturbable ; all men alike to him the carven chess-men of the great game of politics, each with his specified value and functions, to be utilized in the varying combina- tions of war and diplomacy and popularity by the genius of the imperial gamester. In person the King was a little above the middle height, squarely built, and with an increasing tendency to corpulence. His head was neither broad nor elongated, but somewhat round, after the Norman type. His face, however, was not oval to match, but elongated, with a prominent jaw and square chin, which gave him a fancied resemblance to a lion. Westminster—The King's House. 71 His cheek bones were high, his nose long and rather flattened and his mouth broad, with lips firmly set. His eyes, the most striking feature, were grey and remarkably piercing, but set too near together, which, with their habitual restlessness, gave a somewhat sinister expression to an otherwise pleasing face. His short and curly beard was of a light chestnut, and like his closely-cut hair was plentifully sprinkled with white. A short, muscular neck, broad shoulders, long, mus- cular arms, and bowed legs denoted great personal strength and endurance calculated to undergo alike the fatigues of a campaign and of the chase. The King’s dress was rich yet _ simple, consisting of a short mantle of a reddish chocolate, fastened on the right shoulder with a brooch, to leave the sword-arm free, over a long tunic of red cloth flowered with gold, fastened at the throat with a jewelled clasp and show- ing the edge of the white linen tunic beneath. Tight-fitting crimson hose, green boots embroidered with gold, reaching above the ankle, spurs with red leathers, and a belt of gold broidery with a flap falling half-way to the knee, completed his costume, which differed little—and chiefly in point of simplicity—from that of his courtiers, some of whom were guilty of fashionable extravagances in the shape of jewelled gloves, peaked shoes, and elaborate cross-gartering. This morning it was known that the King intended to hawk ; yet he did not seem impatient to set out, for in truth, next to the chase itself he loved to converse and dispute with his chosen followers. As the King approached near the spot where Richard de Anesti, who had rejoined his patron the Treasurer, was standing, the latter, who stood very high in the royal favour, seized this moment to present his protégé, with a few words in explanation of his appearance as a courtier. 72 Court Life under the Plantagenets. “Nay, I love all Richards,” said Henry, with a winning smile ; adding immediately, and as though to himself, “ especi- ally such a8 are misbegotten. But I like not the ‘nest,’ which methinks is built on too high a cliff.” “Yea, truly,” replied the Treasurer, catching the King’s meaning, “but such eyries are wont to breed the stoutest falcons ; here at least is a tassel gentle that I would venture to match with any other.” “Doubtless he is no haggard,” returned the King, with an approving glance at Richard; “but you have seen, as well as IJ, that kites and vultures often take possession of an unguarded eyrie. Therefore I will have none such remaining, but will pull down all. Hear you, Sir Canon—I say all.” The latter bowed in answer, and the King passed on. “ Did you mark that ?” inquired the Treasurer in a whisper of his companion. “It was an evil chance that led the King to couple your name with that of his son Richard ; for this I could see was in his mind, who loves his natural son Geoffrey better than all his other sons, and therefore, perhaps, also he loves me, But truly he, ever bethinking him of the mischief that his sons have heretofore wrought within this land by their turbulence and jealousies, will leave no strong place accessible throughout England ; but some he will pull down, as already he has done of old, and others he will commit to the custody of his own men. But think no more of this matter for the present, for behold the King is about to dispute with Master Map, whom he would fain see reconciled with his adversary.” The King, indeed, had now reached the farther end of the chamber, where the two antagonists were still glaring furtively at one another, and nodding familiarly to his favoured clerk, addressed him in tones half jocular and half Westminster.—The King’s House. 73 ironical. “Have the fairies revealed to you any treasure beneath the earth, Master Walter, that you speak thus im- patiently with our barons of the Exchequer, and regard them as mistrustfully as though they purposed to despoil you ?” “Nay, sire,” replied the churchman, smiling slightly; “such treasure as I have been able to acquire is not laid up either upon the earth nor yet under it, therefore me- thinks it is safe from being handled by such as you have named.” “You speak well of yourself, I see,” rejoined the King, “but uncharitably of others. Come, tell us, do you not commend the honesty of the servant who seeks to advance his master’s interests without respect of persons ?” “His wisdom, indeed, I do commend,” said Map, “but scarcely his honesty.” “You are as ever, incorrigible,” cried Henry impatiently, “and delight in being wise for others but not for yourself. Now what say you, my lords, to this proposition,” he added, raising his voice and addressing the courtiers who stood round: “The king, who governs the whole land, is lord also of all men, and likewise owner of their lands and goods. What say you >?” “That what the King says is ever just,” replied an abbot who stood near, “saving, however, the liberties of Holy Church.” “And moreover those of the barons of the Exchequer,” put in another courtier. “And of the inhabitants of London, both clerks and lay- men,” added the Dean of St. Paul’s. “ “And of the Knights of the Holy Temple of Jerusalem, by the terms of their charter,” continued the Grand Master of that Order. 74 Court Life under the Plantagenets. “Say, rather, of the Jews themselves,” suggested Map aside to the poet Benoit, “they being the sworn servants of the devil, to whom they sold themselves for a crusader’s patrimony.” : “Granted that these exceptions are true, and that they are so admitted at our Exchequer,” persisted Henry, “ what say you to the general principle? or can any man show a title against the Crown? For certain it is that the common safety demands the subjection of all men to one lord, who shall command both their service and their possessions at his need, which is the need of his people, who are his to govern and preserve by the might and wisdom which are given him from Heaven.” A respectful silence followed these words of the King, who was known to entertain strong views on the subject of his prerogative of pre-emption. “ You see,” resumed the latter, turning to Map, “that the general opinion of our wise men is against your foolish scruples,” “Which only shows,” retorted the irrepressible satirist, “that my folly is more honest than their wisdom. For it is well known that all men are secret enemies of the new science of taxation, which the servants of your grandfather devised to cheat simple folk by long phrases, whence have proceeded war and famine and pestilence to the utter impoverishment of the land; and now withal the king is poorer as it appears than his Saxon predecessors, who possessed great treasures through the goodwill of their people. And further, there are many who think that these changes make a military despot- ism, when the king may seek his pleasure in the adventures of foreign war rather than to be solicitous for the defence of the kingdom, and likewise they think that a love of justice may become a mere pretext for increasing the king’s treasure Westminster—The King's louse. 75 by fines and amercements, so that soon a man may sin with impunity, so that he have the means to make atonement at the Exchequer.” 7 “With your good pleasure, sire,” said the Treasurer in a firm voice, as Map had ended his speech, “I could show that Master Walter Map has spoken inadvisedly ; for it is notorious that our King is a lover of peace, and seeks not the glory of war. Has he not abstained hitherto from going with his army to recover the Holy Temple from the heathen, whereby he might easily have had a great aid from his knights, as other princes have done who aré now gone upon that journey. And though he has been many times driven to maintain his quarrel against the French king, yet first he sent many envoys and invoked the mediation of the Roman Court. Was he the first to invade the land of Ireland, though it was long before given to him, as this island was given to his ancestors? or is he still at war with the princes of Wales and Scotland? Lastly, is he not at this very time playing the peace-maker between the Spanish kings, who have sent their legates to his Court, that he may bring them again into peace and fellowship with one another. True it is that he is ever prepared for war, by reason of the malice of his enemies; for in the recent rebellion, without the provision of treasure and other necessaries, he would have been caught all unprepared, and would have fared ill, and the kingdom worse. . Therefore it is well written, ‘The strong man, armed, keeps his house in peace.’ ” “By God's eyes, you have spoken well, Master Richard,” said the King approvingly.. “And as for that complaint of the perversion of justice,” added Richard de Luci, the justiciar, who had recently en- tered the chamber, “I will relate something which has lately 76 Court Life under the Plantagenets. befallen to the contrary. Know then that the citizens of London, and especially the young men of the richer sort, “not regarding the dignity of the King’s barons, but con- temning them in their’ pride, through the greatness of their city, have heretofore sought occasion to quarrel with them in the streets, and even to despoil their houses by night. And as you know, on the morning of the next day after the King’s coming hither, the brother of the Earl Ferrers was found dead in the street, his lodging having been broken in the night, and himself slain, and his body dragged forth into the gutter. Whereat the King raged exceedingly, and fear fell upon all his barons, so that they guarded themselves against a like event. Now this very night past a company of the same citizens broke into the house of Robert de Stute- vill.) But he being armed, with his servants, laid in wait for them, till they had broken down the door with crowbars, and so entered into the house, one of them who was in front having a torch in his hand. Whereupon Sir Robert rushed forth upon him and smote off his hand, so that it dropped with the torch upon the ground; and his fellows, terrified by the suddenness of the thing, and by the darkness, fled out of the door, but Sir Robert held fast the man whom he had wounded, and guarded him till daylight, when he delivered him up to me, who commanded that he should be cast into prison. And here, being offered his life if he should become the king’s prover, he revealed the names of his fellows, who were forthwith taken ; amongst whom is an alderman of the city, a man of great repute and wealth, who sent for me to the prison, and offered to fine with the King in £500 but to save his life and depart out of the kingdom. With which money the King might provide himself with five hundred men-at-arms for his wars; and yet he will not accept the fine, Westminster.—The King's House. a7 but has commanded justice to be done upon him and his fellows. Thus:men may see that the chief care of this great prince is not to amass treasure, but to provide for the peace and security of his people.” This fresh instance of the sovereign’s prudent government was received with a chorus of extravagant praise from. his courtiers, which reduced Master Map to a discreet silence. Henry now bethought himself of his projected sport, and without further parley. repaired to the courtyard of the palace, followed by those among his courtiers who were accustomed to attend him on these occasions. Richard de Anesti also was about to withdraw when he was accosted by Master Map, to whom he had previously been known, and who was burning to deliver himself of his grievances against the courtiers to a sympathetic ear. “Who would believe,” he began, “that these who are so ready to govern others are by no means able to rule them- selves, I say not as Christians, but as valiant knights should do. Truly, they are so occupied with vanities that they have no leisure for religion or learning, which are the chief quali- fications for good government. Consider their lands, increased continually by grants and purchases, procured by favour and by oppression of others, and wasted as quickly by mortgages to the Jews, to feed their ambition and luxury ; their castles (which seem built to invade heaven itself), with carven pillars and painted ceilings ; their courtyards full of outlandish birds and beasts, and their gardens gay with painted flowers and fragrant with spice trees. Then, too, observe the effeminacy of their dress,—their silks and broideries, jewelled gloves and peaked shoes, and their hair flowing like a woman’s, For just as some maidens affect the garb of men, straitening their drapery and cutting short their hair, with lascivious intent, 78 Court Life under the Plantagenets. so these Court peacocks array themselves in order to dazzle the eyes of fond dames. “But I will pass by this wickedness, which has been so often reproved by the holy Abbot of Westminster, and I will mention rather the insupportable insolence of their speech and gaét, Thus, they will regard you with their eyes half-closed, affect to examine the nails of their fingers whilst they speak, yawn openly, arch their eyebrows, shrug their shoulders, and many such like impertinences. Also they soften their voices when they speak to women with a mincing tone, but to others they drawl affectedly, and they call rudely upon their servants or inferiors.” “They who are stricken in years appear, on the contrary, either slovenly in their dress and avaricious in their dealings, or else gluttonous, maintainers of cooks and physicians, and lovers of gilt wine cups and jewels and rich trappings and the like. And because of these excesses and of their knavery in seeking gifts and bribes against all justice and honesty (whereof I will tell you something at another time), you may often see these courtiers choosing to endow some monas- tery and to end their days there, since all men grow soonest weary of evil-doing.” “Tt is true,” replied Richard at length, “that I have myself observed most of the abuses that you have named, and, per- adventure, certain others besides. But it is to be remembered that these excesses have been known in the courts of all countries, and are even condemned by the holy Prophets, and otherwise the present age is not to be particularly censured, but rather praised for avoiding the graver sins of olden time, such as impiety and rapine, and others which have been happily reformed by the wisdom and justice of our great King and his ministers.” Westminster.—The King's Hlouse. 79 “Now, truly,” said Map warmly, “ you speak inadvisedly ; for it is well known that the Holy Father himself, and all who attend to the state of the Christian peoples, both in this country and in others, have utterly condemned the sinfulness of the present age, both in things spiritual and temporal ; as, namely, plurality of benefices, non-residence of clergy, and the advancement to the degrees of priest and archdeacon of young and unworthy clerks; the sacraments administered only to such as can procure them by gifts. Again, among the regular clergy there are luxury and waste; the brethren fill their purses (who should rightly carry none) with alms, going abroad and living at their pleasure; they also take money of villeins and simple men, to bring their sons to be ordained, whereby the lords of such are daily offended. The Church also is oppressed by the greed and violence of lay- men, and the discussions that arise therefrom give boldness to heretics and scoffers, who have greatly multiplied of late. Usury is practised by Christian men without shame, and is become the chief trade of many, and therefore great favour has been shown to the Jews, who have lately gotten for them- selves cimiteries in divers towns, whereas Christ’s lepers have none such, nor any churches or priests assigned to them. Some amass money by the spoil of wrecks of the sea and by piracy ; others sell arms to the Saracens, and assist them against the soldiers of the Cross. Still more waste their substance in tournaments and levy private war, not regarding the peace of the Church, by the hands of savage mercenaries within the days of holy truce. And for all the above evil practices the clergy excuse themselves by the plea of custom, not remembering the punishment of Gehazi; while as for laymen, they set at nought the censures of Holy Church, such as excommunications and interdicts justifying them- 80 Court Life under the Plantagenets. selves with sophistries and hardening their hearts by the certainty of impunity in this world, and by the promise of a late repentance.” Long before Map had concluded this sermon at the expense of his contemporaries, the last of them had quitted the presence chamber; and because Richard too had business abroad, he took a hasty leave of the fiery chaplain and bent his steps toward the city. CHAPTER VI. WESTMINSTER.—THE KING’S COUNCIL, THE following morning Richard de Anesti was awakened at an early hour by his brother, with a message from the Treasurer that he should lose no time in presenting himself in the Hall of Rufus, on account of the great concourse of barons and knights and clerks, learned in the civil law, who should be attracted by the grandeur and novelty of this ceremony. Without any delay, therefore, Richard donned the richly jewelled dress which it befitted one of his rank to assume on such an occasion, and taking advantage of his present familiarity with the clerks of the King’s Chapel, he enjoyed the privilege of hearing early mass, attended by the King and his household ; after which he followed in the royal train that filed through the private entrance at the south end of the Great Hall. The lower part of the spacious building was already densely crowded with a brilliant company, but the upper end was kept clear by the marshals for the accom- modation of the councillors and the distinguished suitors whose cause they were about to decide. Here the King took his seat on a lofty decorated throne prepared for the occasion, having on either side a bench richly draped, on which, and on two other benches at right angles to them, the prelates, earls, and barons who had received summonses to attend the Council, were placed in due order of precedence,—the Arch- bishop of Canterbury, the Justiciar, Richard de Luci, the 81 G 82 Court Life under the Plantagenets. Vice-chancellor, Master Thomas Brown, Ralph the physician, and several other distinguished persons, occupying seats on either side of the throne ; whilst several clerks, furnished with material for writing, occupied a place where they could be easily overlooked by the Vice-chancellor and Master Thomas. Meantime the less dignified clergy, deans and archdeacons and canons, had ranged themselves on the right side of the hall, and the great body of the king’s tenants-in-chief and other lay personages similarly on the left; those in front seated on low benches, and those behind standing, in order to obtain a better view of the proceedings. Richard de Anesti himself had taken a position with several officers of the Receipt immediately behind his patron, the Treasurer, who sat near the end of the bench on the right of the throne. Presently a flourish of music announced the approach of the exalted suitors, who entered the Hall by the great door at the north end in three separate divisions. First came the referees, chosen by both parties indif- ferently, whose mission it was to guarantee the adherence of the two kings to the present arbitration on pain of forfeiture of several important castles on either side, while it was their further duty to convey an impartial and authoritative report of the decision of the English king to the two contending sovereigns. These referees were four in number—a bishop and a lord, with whom were joined two principals of the Orders of the Knights of the Temple and of St. John. These legates, in their robes of office, preceded by heralds and banners of both countries, and followed by a body of clerks bearing membranes of parchment and ink-horns, advanced slowly up the centre of the hall, and after making a deep obeisance to the King, took the places reserved for them on his right hand. They were immediately succeeded by’ the Westminster.—The King’s Counctl. 83 embassy of Castille, comprising a bishop and several nobles of high rank, with numerous clerks learned in the law, the rear being brought up by a mounted knight in complete armour, preceded by a herald and attended by two squires on foot, who appeared as the champion of Castille. The embassy of Navarre followed in like order at a convenient distance. Then the advocates of both parties having taken their places immediately in front of the throne on either side, the King opened the proceedings by referring to the previous Council at Windsor, at which the conditions of the arbitration and the formal statements of claim had been concluded, and the final hearing of the matter had been adjourned to the pre- sent meeting. Wherefore, he concluded, it was open to both parties to dispute in turn upon their respective allegations, before judgment was pronounced. At this announcement, the Bishop of Palenza rose and claimed the favour of the King and his Council on behalf of a native advocate of great repute, who was prepared to argue the cause of his master, Alphonso of Castille. The King having signified his assent, the advocate referred. to came forward and addressed the council with great fluency in choice Castilian Latin, interspersed with quotations from . legal authorities. This discourse, which embraced a state- ment of the lineage of the kings of Castille and Navarre, and a narrative of the historical events connected with the violent usurpation of the territories now claimed by King Alphonso, was illustrated by references to numerous original charters and other documents, which, being handed in from time to time by the Bishop of Palenza, were read aloud by the Vice-chancellor, after which they were closely inspected by Henry himself. 84 Court Life under the Plantagenets. When the Castilian advocate had concluded his argument, an advocate on the side of the King of Navarre replied at length in similar style, denying the allegations of his adver- sary, and advancing ‘a counter claim to other territories of which his master had been forcibly dispossessed by King Alphonso or his ancestors, supporting also his contention by reference to documentary evidence. In the course of both arguments, the King frequently interrupted, demanding an explanation in clerical Latin of certain passages. The councillors also seemed to exhibit marked signs of im- patience from time to time, and at length, almost before the Navarrese had well concluded his speech, Richard de Luci addressed the King to the effect that, without any dis- respect to the representatives of the powerful and virtuous princes here present, it was plain that the bishops and barons whom the King had summoned to assist in the decision of this cause were unable to comprehend the allegations of either side any more than if they were spoken in a barbarous tongue, and, therefore, it seemed to him desirable that the advocates should be required to use the Norman tongue, which, he added, was held in most esteem in the courts of divers Christian kingdoms. To this proposition the Bishop of London offered as an amendment that clerical Latin should be admitted; but this was negatived by a murmur of dissent amongst the lay nobility present, and a lively interchange of views followed on both sides. The King, how- ever, put a stop to the discussion in a peremptory manner, and gave his decision in favour of admitting clerical Latin, but only in written allegations, with which each party was to furnish the Council within three days, in order that when these documents had been clearly explained and discussed by the Council, judgment might be given without further Westminster.—The King's Counctl. 85 parley. Wherefore the present meeting was declared to be adjourned. When the King had given this decision, the two embassies, without venturing any objection, withdrew in the same order as they had arrived, and their example was followed by the majority of those present. The chief topic of interest amongst the military part of the audience was the appearance of the two champions, of whose prowess in the wars against the Saracens many stories had been spread abroad, and the probabilities of the matter being referred to the battle was earnestly discussed on all sides. The clerical element, on the other hand, was anxious rather to argue the points of procedure that had arisen during the recent hearing, and especially the pretensions of the baronage that only the French tongue should be admitted. Concerning this subject, the Treasurer, who joined Richard as the King’s retinue was leaving the hall, had much to say, advancing many reasons on either side, but himself leaning somewhat to that of the barons, on the ground that the record of every plea should be made in the vulgar tongue, as being a proclamation more solemn than any deposition in writing; though now, he added, matters were somewhat altered, except in the ancient franchises. At this point Richard inquired of the Treasurer what difference existed between the sessions of the king’s court before the king himself or before his justices. At which the latter replied as follows: “You must know that the King sits in justice alone and supreme in all manner of causes, yet for the most part he uses to commit the hearing of the pleas of the subjects, and pleas of the Crown touching his revenue, or for the breach of his peace, and of the assizes of the realm, to his barons and 86 Court Life under the Plantagenets. justices ; although I have known our King to preside in the matter of a convention made between two freeholders, whilst he has committed the judgment of an appeal of treason to the justices. But in those causes which concern the inheritance of lands and the encroachment upon his forests, and appeals in ecclesiastical causes,‘he is ever wont to hear and determine everything, with the assistance of his household or of the peers of the realm.” “And in which court,” asked Richard, “is the greater wisdom discernible.” “Now, truly,” replied the Treasurer, “I am in doubt as to an answer ; for though the suitors benefit through the skill and precision of the presiding justices, yet it cannot be denied that our King himself is an incomparable judge of those things which are resolved by the course of the civil and canon laws. For in these causes he is both wise and subtle and resolute, so that none may. gain any advantage over him in disputation, as you would have seen had you been present at the hearing of the great cause between the Bishop of Chichester and the Abbot of Battle.” _ “Nay,” said Richard, “but if you remember I was then present, being engaged in pursuing my own causes; and I have also heard of the King’s skill in deciding the matter of the inheritance of Earl Bigot in his late court at Windsor.” “Tlowever,” the Treasurer resumed, “I do not otherwise commend those general processes, for a large assembly is in its nature incapable of judicial gravity ; so that the sessions of such a body are generally attended with confusion and quarrels, and even with blows. As to this doubtless you are aware of the reason for the Archbishop’s absence to-day, him of York I mean, who is but now recovering from the wounds inflicted on him at the Council holden here last Easter.” Westminster.—The King's Council. 87 “T have heard some rumours of this dispute,” replied Richard, “but nothing plainly.” “Then I will tell you,” said the Treasurer, “who was an eye-witness, though an unwilling one. The Council whereof I speak was convened by the Cardinal for the reformation of ecclesiastical abuses, and the King was present there with his sons, and all the bishops and abbots and chapters of the kingdom. And when all were assembled in the chapel of the infirm monks, here at Westminster, it was seen that those LO ° ho fo pn Fic. 19. archbishops, and their suffragans and their monks, were arrayed against one another like hostile armies about to join battle. And presently the signal was given, when the Archbishop of Canterbury went forward to take his seat at the right hand of the Cardinal; for immediately the other Archbishop stood in his way, and claimed the dignity of that place as an ancient privilege of his Church; and because he still pressed forward, plucked him by the border of his pall. Whereupon the Bishop of Ely, who stood by, seized the \ 88 Court Life under the Plantagenets. aggressor by the back of his neck, and so held him fast, and his cap fell off and was broken. And at the same instant the servants of the Archbishop of Canterbury and others fell upon him, and threw him upon the ground and beat him, and trampled on him with their feet, so that he was rescued from their hands scarcely breathing. And by reason of this scandal, the King was compelled to make peace between them, and to send the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop. of Ely abroad with his daughter, as far as St. Gilles, whence they are only lately returned. But the Archbishop of York has little health and less desire to attend more councils. “This then is the sum of that which you seek to know, that it is better, for the welfare of the whole community that there should be a constituted body, how small soever, to hear and resolve all causes at some fixed spot, rather than that the King should depute sundry of his courtiers to determine such matters, to whom the science of the Curia and of the Exchequer may perchance be wholly unknown. And it is certain that sooner or later these changes will become necessary, for in the multitude of our judges there is little wisdom and much guile. But concerning these things, I would desire you to hear Ranulph de Glanvill and his brethren, who have greater experience in them than we at the Exchequer.” With such talk as this they reached the hall of the inner palace, where dinner was prepared, and where the King entertained at his own table the foreign legates, with many prelates and nobles of the kingdom, and other clerks and laymen of his court, marshalled in due order of precedence. The fare indeed was modest, as befitted the beginning of Lent ; but Richard was surprised at the infinite variety of “gg aBeg novy of ATAVL LV ONIN LANAOVINV Id vied 4.9% dessus du uoprey 54 » ulayzsueun0g +e ee LN a . ny ‘ -y SN)’ > Vas x se \ QGe:. Cf: ete 4 ay A 5 ay tty ew ae 4 Pr o an a eo Op IE vr A Be iy - a Whey Wy Ww Wy 2 2s < - Na = . TS fa z k _ { Hi er : re : a € : 4 , en 2 \ % } es s . = = ern a, » f ee, tase 71 ae f e ‘ @ @ ae et aa ey ie etd y rr} “UW ALW 1d Westminster.—The King's Council. 89 fish that was served at each table: lordly salmon and great trout both sodden and baked with verjuice and spices, pike of three feet in length, roasted whole upon spits and stuffed with herbs and anchovies, eels in crust, potted lamperns, with tench, bream, and dace, and other common fish, all denizens of the river and, many of them long fattened in the fish stews that formed an important feature of the palace inclosure. Together with these was served almost every sort of sea fish that found its way to the riverside market. As soon as the banquet was ended, the King with- drew into his chamber for the purpose, it was understood, of conversation with the Spanish and Navarrese delegates re- specting the political institutions of their respective countries, a subject of invariable attraction for this royal statesman. Richard, learning that his friend the Treasurer was dis- posed for study, readily joined himself with a company of the younger courtiers present, who purposed, according to custom, to repair to the playing fields beyond the city walls, in order to initiate the Lenten tournaments always held there on Sunday afternoon—when the Court happened to be at London—between the chivalry not yet dignified by knighthood and the noble youths of the city. Accordingly, not long afterwards a gay cavalcade wended its way along the Strand towards the city, where, having fallen in with an equal number of the youths of the city mustered in the great square before the Church of St. Paul, the two squad- rons proceeded towards the fields, followed by an immense concourse of spectators, both on foot and horseback. Arrived at the appointed spot, where spacious lists had been prepared for the occasion, the tournament was opened by single courses between champions on both sides,—the citizens being, according to custom, the challengers. In this mimic go Court Life under the Plantagenets. warfare, however, neither steed nor rider was protected by armour, the latter having only a shield and a headless lance. FIG. 20. The encounter, however, though bloodless, was an equal test of horsemanship and skill in the use of the lance, whilst the risk of severe falls and contusions was a sufficient proof of hardi- hood. As soon as the single ' contests were exhausted, and the champion who had dis- played the greatest. prowess had been proclaimed victor by the umpires, and rewarded with the prize of a gold chain, with which he was decorated by the fair hands of the daughter of one of the city magnates, a general engagement followed, the opposing bands vying in their display of skilful manceuvres, forming and wheeling and charg- ing in several ranks, until at a given signal the combat was suspended, and the result was declared to be in favour of the courtiers, a verdict which excited some murmurs from the popu- lace. Indeed Richard, who had remained an interested spectator of the tournament, having won his spurs many years before in the expedition against Toulouse, observed that an evident Westminster.— The King’s Councvl. 91 rivalry existed between the courtiers and citizens, which was not confined, as he was reminded by a recent tragedy, to a harmless encounter like the present. For as the former, after a joyous carousal and ceremonious farewell of the civic potentates, were returning again towards Westminster, the young heir of Bigot, next to whom he rode, asked if he intended on the morrow to witness the trial of John the Elder and those citizens, his fellows, who stood accused of housebreaking and other crimes against the king’s peace; of which, doubtless, he added, the murder of the brother of — his father’s old friend and companion in arms, the Earl Ferrers, when the Court first came to London, was one. The sun had set behind the orchards and thickets of the Abbey before the party returned to Westminster; and im- mediately after supper Richard sought his couch, resolved upon being present at the expected trial of the recreant magnates of the city. On the following morning, therefore, he rose early and waited upon his lord and patron, Richard de Luci, the justi- ciar, to whom the conduct of the trial belonged. Here he was informed by one of the deputy marshals of the Curia that the midnight robber, who had been previously wounded and secured, had been admitted as the king’s prover, and _ that he had already denounced many of note amongst the younger citizens, some of whom had fled the city, and others were already taken, besides John the Elder, all of whom were lodged in the gaol of Newgate, and would be brought before the king’s justices at Westminster that very morning. Upon hearing this news, Richard proceeded to the lodging of his kinsman, Ranulph de Glanvill, who, on learning his wishes, readily consented to accompany him. Long before the hour appointed for the trial, a crowd of 92 Court Life under the Plantagenets. citizens had assembled in front of the palace gates, while more privileged courtiers had taken their stand in the body of the Hall itself. At the hour appointed for the proceedings of the court to begin, the Justiciar, Richard de Luci, entered, attended by various serjeants and officers, and also by several clerks and scribes who were prepared to endite a report of the proceedings in the rolls of the court. The Justiciar took his seat on the broad bench at the summit of the Hall, and the clerks occupied benches at a table immediately in front. Next the king’s “prover” was brought in, unarmed, for, having lost his right hand in the manner before related, it was not intended that he should substantiate his accusation by a personal combat. After him followed the sheriff of London, William, son of Isabel, to whose custody the prisoners had been committed, and three or four of these wretches, half-naked and securely pinioned, under the escort of the sheriffs, serjeants, and the gaoler of the king’s prison, were next brought up to the bar which divided the judges and clerks from the body of the court. : The proceedings which followed were short and simple in the extreme. The Justiciar rose and spoke a few words to the effect that the King was deeply moved to anger by the frequent contempts and crimes committed heretofore by divers malefactors of that city, which he was resolved to visit with condign punishment, as would presently be evident. At the conclusion of this significant preamble, the king’s “prover” was pushed forward by the sheriff. Pale as death, with trem- bling limbs and faltering accents, he appealed John the Elder, and others his associates, for that they did by night within the king’s peace, feloniously break into the lodging of a certain lord, namely the brother of the Earl of Ferrers, and him wounded, and dragged into the street, and killed with Westminster.+The King's Council. 93 blows ; and also for that the same did, not long afterwards, feloniously break into the lodging of another lord, namely Robert de Estutevill, and this he offers to prove as the court shall direct, being a man maimed. And the defendants, thus appealed, answered, and traversed the entire charge, word for word. Thereupon twelve citizens, who had been impanelled by the sheriff in open court, as dwelling in the same wards with the accused, and sworn to declare the truth of the matter, came forward and stated that they held the said persons appealed in grave suspicion of guilt, who thereupon demanded the franchise of the city, namely, to clear them- selves by the joint oath of their peers, But the Justiciar denied this claim, on the ground of the supreme jurisdiction of the king in his court, and decreed that they should clear themselves by the water, for such, he said, is the King’s com- mandment, and that it be done suddenly, : ' The whole proceedings had not lasted ten minutes, and here were six men adjudged to-a shameful death practically unheard, and with no appeal but to the justice of Heaven to work something like a miracle in their behalf, for such was 94 Court Life under the Plantagenets. the real meaning of the ordeal of water—a yet more des- perate resource than the trial of the heated iron, though the accused had not even been permitted to choose between these implements of torture. ~ Thus thought Richard de Anesti as he found himself hurried along in the eager throng of sightseers which pressed towards the great doorway through which the officials and prisoners had already passed on their way to the place of torment. It is related that in the old days of simple piety and austere faith before the Conquest, the ordeal was always performed as a solemn religious mystery in the interior of a church, and the Divine interposition on behalf of the innocent was invoked by prayer and fasting; but now the test had degenerated into a meaningless form of law—a straw carelessly dropped within reach of a sinking man. Therefore, without proceeding as far as the Church of St. Peter, the procession halted on the verge of the abbey pre- cincts, where, in an excavation made for the purpose, a large copper filled with water was already steaming over a roaring furnace of pine logs. Here the prisoners were halted, and the sheriffs’ serjeants bandaged each probationer’s hand and arm with thick folds of linen, to the upper and lower joints of which the sheriff affixed his seal upon a thin disc of molten lead. Then the accused were called upon in turn to attempt the ordeal, which consisted in plunging the bandaged arm into the now boiling cauldron, so as to snatch away from the bottom a large white stone. This John the Elder success- fully accomplished, but two out of his five associates were not so successful; for one of them being overcome by the heat of the furnace, or blinded by the smoke and flame, was unable to lay hold of the stone, and still groping for it with Westminster.—The King's Council. 95 ‘his arm, fainted with the pain, and would have been either boiled or roasted alive if the sheriff had not plucked him forth. This horrible sight so disconcerted the last of the accused, that, having advanced to the edge of the furnace, his courage failed him, and he piteously refused to make the required attempt. Thereupon he was adjudged guilty, and sentenced by the Justiciar to be hanged with the other prisoners who had failed to clear themselves in the manner required by custom. The four remaining prisoners who had braved the terrors of the ordeal were now respited in order that the judgment of God might be apparent from the in- spection of their arms at the lapse of three days ; for then he upon whose flesh appeared no mark of scalding was held to be unscathed by the water, and was discharged or banished, according to his character; but otherwise he was punished with the extreme rigour of the law. These then were now removed under a guard to prison, but the two already con- victed, having been hurriedly tied by their feet to the tails of two horses, were dragged in that manner by the sheriffs and a mounted party towards the place of execution, followed by a large part of the spectators both on horseback and on foot. Richard had no desire to be present at the final act of justice, but returned slowly towards the palace, still musing upon the problem which had been suggested by the recent scene, and which was nothing less than the possibility of the administra- tion of justice in a spirit of equity and humanity. He had not proceeded far before he was overtaken by Ranulph de Glanvill and his brother William, and together _ they returned to the White Hall, where they found the Treasurer and a few other clerks and courtiers awaiting the King’s return from his daily hunting expedition, and here, after some conversation upon the subject of the late proceed- 96 Court Life under the Plantagenets. ings, Richard, addressing himself to the Treasurer, mentioned the objections which had occurred to him as a layman in the judgments of criminal presentments, inquiring whether this process was common to other kingdoms, and for what reason the great perfection displayed in the judgments of the Curia and Exchequer in other pleas had not been extended also to these ; and, lastly, whether the evil were such a one as might be remedied. To which the Treasurer replied as follows: “Tt is true that neither the providence of the king and his justices, nor the vigilance of the sheriffs and his other ministers, can wholly prevent those evils of which you have complained. But whether the laws themselves and the assizes of the kingdom are to blame therein, I will not willingly decide, but will refer you on this point to our most learned justice, your kinsman here.” Ranulph de Glanvill, who was thus appealed to, appeared to accept the Treasurer’s challenge, for he immediately addressed himself to Richard in the following words : “T admit,” he began, “in part the truth of what you have spoken. But consider now that there is no similitude between the Common Pleas of the King’s Court or at the Exchequer and the presentments of which you make mention, which notoriously are practised in the provincial courts, accord- ing to the ancient laws of the English, among which is this same trial by the ordeal, whereas the Curia and Exchequer are in their origin wholly Norman. But it is to be considered in respect of the ordeal, that if the accused be nobles or free- men, or burgesses, they shall have the appeal of battle, or the judgment of their peers, or the custom of their city ; though truly our King is no respecter of persons, as you have just now seen, and thinketh that for men convicted by the oath of their neighbours, the ordeal is sufficient. So then this judg- Westminster.—The King's Counctt.. 97 ment is clearly to be laid to the charge of the English laws, and I myself who have read these laws throughout, believe that they are requisite to the state of this kingdom, and that they will continue with little change into after times. For the nature thereof is this: To preserve the peace of God, together with the king’s peace, unto-all men, wherein it is enjoined that the whole body of people shall be assisting, and therefore they are the best judges of their fellow’s guilt or innocency, to which end also they solemnly invoke the judg- ment of God to declare the truth before the guilty are punished.” Richard could not help admitting the justice of these reflec- tions, and because, he added, he himself had spent nearly six years in the prosecution of a single suit, it seemed at least a merit that justice should be expeditious even at the expense of outward ceremonies. Then several courtiers who were present having marvelled _ greatly at the exceeding length of his suit, at their request, and with the permission of the Treasurer and the other great men there, Richard spoke as follows. CHAPTER VII. WESTMINSTER.—THE KING’S COURT. “TT is now thirty years ago,” Richard began, “that William de Sackville, my uncle, died, leaving to me and to one other a disputed inheritance. And the cause hereof was this: that the same William, long before, was contracted in the bond of matrimony with Albreda, daughter of Geoffrey de Tregoz, but notwithstanding this solemn vow, he soon afterwards married Adeliza, daughter of Aubrey de Vere, contrary to the laws of Holy Church. And thereupon Albreda, whom he had thus wronged, brought her suit in the ecclesiastical courts, and because she could not have justice done her there, she appealed thence to the Bishop of Winchester, being at 98 Westminster.—The King’s Court. 99 that time the legate of our lord the Pope, by whom the truth of the matter was certified to the Court of Rome. And after- wards, by virtue of a certain rescript of our lord the Pope, sentence of nullity was pronounced in a synod held at London in the year of Our Lord 1143, and accordingly the said William returned to Albreda, and lived with her till his dying day. But although he thus submitted himself to the decree of Holy Church, and put away her with whom he had sinned, yet he continued to bear a great affection towards her, and especially to the daughter whom she had borne to him, by name Mabel. And many years after, being infirm with age and sickness, the said Mabel and her husband came to him and abode with him till his death, and afterwards entered upon all his manors and lands, on the pretext that the said Mabel took the same as his daughter and heiress. Moreover, they feigned that the said William, before his death, had repented of the evil that he had wrought towards Adeliza, having confessed the whole truth in the presence of the Abbot of Colchester and other religious persons, as follows. That he had by no means entered into that contract with Albreda, as had been supposed, but had received a release thereof from her father to himself and his father, by agreement on both sides, after which he married Adeliza openly in the face of the Church, who was driven from his house against his will by the subtle devices of Albreda, and of those who were in hope to inherit in default of his issue by her such as afterwards came to pass. Alleging further that the legate and those who were joined with him in pronouncing that sentence of nullity had been influenced therein by gifts. “And because Mabel and her husband were in posses- sion of my rightful inheritance, and would not even make a concord with me about the same, I sent a certain man 100 Court Life under the Plantagenets. of my own into Normandy for the King’s writ, whereby I impleaded my adversaries. And when my messenger brought me the writ, I proceeded to Sarum, in order that it might be returned under the Queen’s seal. And when I came back I heard that Ralph Brito was about to cross the water, so I followed him to Southampton to speak with him, in order that he might purchase for me the King’s writ addressed to the Archbishop, because I knew that the plea would be removed into the Archbishop’s court. And having returned from Southampton with the Queen’s writ, I went to Ongar, and delivered the writ to Richard de Luci, who, having seen the same, gave me a day for pleading at Northampton on the eve of St. Andrew ; and before that I sent Nicholas my clerk for Geoffrey de Tregoz, and for Albreda his sister, to wit she who had been my uncle’s wife, whom he found at Berney, in Norfolk. And when the clerk returned, I went to Northampton to open my pleadings with my friends and helpers, and hence Richard de Luci gave me another day at Southampton, on the fifteenth day. Afterwards Ralph Brito came from Normandy, and brought me the King’s writ, whereby the plea was removed into the Archbishop’s court, and I carried the writ to Archbishop Theobald, whom I found at Winchester ; and then he gave mea day on the feast of St. Vincent, and that plea was held at Lambeth ; and thence he gave me a day on the feast of St. Valentine the Martyr, and that plea was held at Maidstone. From thence he gave me a day on the feast of St. Perpetua and St. Felicity ; and meanwhile I went to the Bishop of Winchester, to talk with him, so that he might certify the divorce which had been before him in the synod at London. And having received the bishop’s certificate, I appeared on the day assigned to me prepared for pleading, and that plea was held at Lambeth. SEENS"“MWT STH JO LNOODDV SALSUNV 2d GUVHDIU Nee eee hy TT ALVWI1d Westminster.—The King’s Court. 101 From thence he gave me a day on the Monday next after the Lztare Jerusalem. And meanwhile I went for Master Ambrose, who at that time was with the Abbot of St. Alban’s, in Norfolk; and Sampson my chaplain I sent to Buckingham for Master Peter de Melide. “ Having thus secured the clerks above-named, I kept my day with my helpers at London. Thence the Archbishop gave me a day on Quasimodo Geniti Sunday; and meantime I sent John my brother beyond sea to the King’s Court, because I was informed that my adversaries had purchased the King’s writ not to plead until the King should return from beyond sea; and therefore I sent my brother for another writ, that my plea should not be stayed by reason of this writ of my adversaries. And in the meantime I went myself to Chichester, to talk with Bishop Hilary, so that he might testify to the divorce which had been pronounced in his presence by my lord of Winchester, in the synod at London ; and I received his testimony, namely, the letters which he despatched to the Archbishop testifying the divorce. “At London I kept my day with my clerks and witnesses and friends and helpers, and I remained there during four days, pleading every day, Thence he gave me a day on Rogation day, and when I kept it at Canterbury, my adver- saries said that they would not plead on account of the sum- mons of the King’s army against Toulouse. So I followed the King, and I found him at Auvilar, in Gascony. And in this journey I waited thirteen weeks before I was able to have the King’s writ to proceed with my pleadings. As soon as I had purchased the King’s writ, I returned, and having found the Archbishop at Mortlake, I delivered the King’s writ to him, and he gave me a day on the feast of St. Crispin and St. Crispianus, on which day I came to Canterbury; and from 102 Court Life under the Plantagenets. thence he gave mea day on the octaves of St. Martin, on which day I came to Canterbury. From thence my lord of Canterbury gave me a day on the feast of St. Lucia the Virgin ; and meanwhile I sent Master Sampson my chaplain to Lincoln for Master Peter. But when my day came I was unable to plead on account of my illness; so I sent my essoigners, who had me excused at Canterbury. And thence a day was given me on the feast of St. Fabian and St. Sebastian, on which day I came to London, where my lord of Canterbury then was; and from thence he gave me a day on the feast of St. Scolastica the Virgin, and I kept it at Canterbury ; and thence on Letare Jerusalem, and I kept it at London; and thence on Misericordia Domini Sunday. And in the meantime I sent Robert de Furneis and Richard de Marci for Godfrey de Marci, and I myself went to the Bishop of Winchester, that I might obtain a more perfect certification of the divorce pronounced by him. And I found the bishop at Fareham, by Portsmouth, and from thence I brought back with me Master Jordan Fantasma, here, and Nicholas de Chandos, that they might be able to testify by word of mouth what the bishop had also testified by his writ. And I kept my day at London, prepared to plead, and thence the Archbishop gave me a day on the Close of Pentecost. And meantime I went myself to the Bishop of Lincoln for Master Peter, who then was with him at Stafford, and I sent Sampson my chaplain for Master Steven de Binham, whom he found at Norwich. And thence I kept my day at Canter- bury, prepared to plead with my clerks, witnesses, friends, and helpers; and there we pleaded for two days. From thence he gave mea day on the octaves of St. Peter and St. Paul, and I kept it at Wingham ; and thence on the feast of St. Sixtus, and I kept it at Lambeth; and thence on the Westminster.—The King's Court. 103 Decollation of St. John the Baptist, and I kept it at Canter- bury ; and thence on the feast of St. Luke the Evangelist. In the meanwhile I crossed the water that I might crave license from our lord the King to appeal to Rome; and hav- ing received the license, I appealed to Rome till Letare Jerusalem. After this I sued for the Archbishop’s writ of appeal; but he refused to give it me forthwith, but he gave me a day to receive it at Canterbury, on which day I came and received my writ, but without seal, so that I might show it to my advocates and obtain their opinion whether it was according to law. And afterwards I sent his writ, by Sampson my chaplain, to Lincoln, to show it to Master Peter. And afterwards I sent it to Master Ambrose, whom the messenger found at Binham. And when the writ was corrected by my advocates, I brought it again to Canterbury, that it might be sealed; but after seeing it, they refused to seal it as it was, but they gave me another also without seal. Thence, after I had received this writ, I went to show it to the Bishop of Chichester, and when I had heard his advice I returned. And then I sent the writ by Sampson my chap- lain to Master Peter. I then sent the same writ again to Master Ambrose at St. Alban’s; and when I had received their advice, and the writ being corrected, I went to the Arch- bishop at Wingham, and there my writ was sealed. And when I came back I sent John my brother to Winchester, in order that he might purchase the bishop’s writ, certifying — the divorce to the Holy Father, and I myself went to the Bishop of Chichester, whom I found at Salisbury, in order that he might certify the divorce by his writ addressed to the Holy Father in the same manner as he had done to the Arch- bishop. And a second time and a third time did I send my brother to Winchester before I could have an available writ. 104 Court Life under the Plantagenets. Thereafter I got my clerks ready, and sent them to Rome, to wit, Sampson my chaplain, and Master Peter de Littlebury, and one man to attend them. And when they came back I received from them the writ of our lord the Pope, and brought it to the Bishop of Chichester and the Abbot of Westminster, to whom the same was addressed, in order that my plea ‘ might be brought into their court. After they had seen the apostolical precept, they fixed a day for me to plead at Westminster in eight days of the feast of St. Michael. And I kept my day, with my advocates and witnesses and friends and helpers, and there we tarried three days before we pleaded, on account of the King’s commands about which the abbot and the bishop were employed. And thence they gave mea day in eight days of St. Martin. In the meantime I sent John my brother for Godfrey de Marci, in order that he might attend as my witness, and he could not come, because he was ill, but he sent his son in his place. On the appointed day I came to London, prepared and ready to plead, because I thought that I should then obtain my judgment, and there we tarried five days, and then my adversaries appealed to the presence of the Holy Father himself till the feast of St. Luke the Evangelist. And I requested the instrument of appeal, and they gave me a day at Oxford on the feast of St. Andrew. And I kept my day, and tarried there for nine days before I could obtain my instrument ; and having received it, but with- out seal, I carried it to Master Peter at Lincoln, in order that he might correct it. The writ being corrected, I carried the same to the Bishop of Chichester at Winchester, on the octaves of the Epiphany, in order that it might be sealed there. But the bishop would not seal it, because the Abbot of Westminster was not there ; but afterwards it was sealed at Westminster on Letare Jerusalem. Afterwards I went to Westminster.—The King's Court. 105 the Archbishop of York for his writ deprecatory, addressed to the Holy Father, and to the Bishop of Durham for his writ to the Holy Father and the cardinals; and I found them both at York. And I returned to the Bishop of Lincoln for his writ to the same, and afterwards to the Bishop of Winchester for his writ; and I found him at Glastonbury. And when the time of appealing drew nigh, having prepared my clerks, I sent them to the Court of Rome, where they tarried sixty- LD SD NS Le chaftel be Doure lenzree e lacle? delaRrche ile be Cugleten_ew Fic. 23. two days before they could have my sentence. And now, if you would know how they fared on that journey, Master Jordan here will tell you, who was there himself.” Hereupon the courtiers having entreated Master Jordan to relate what befell him at the Court of Rome, he complied with their request as follows :-— “As soon as I had received these commands from the knight my master here, together with the writs and allega- tions on our side, and twenty-five marks in silver for our expenses, I joined myself with Master Sampson, my lord’s 106 Court Life under the Plantagenets. chaplain, and one man to attend us, and having prepared ourselves with horses and an outfit suitable to the journey, we slept that night in London. And on the following day we rode to Rochester, and on the next to Canterbury, and thence half a day’s journey to Dover, where we took ship to Witsand. And thence, on the seventh day, because the ways were foul, we came to Paris, where for three days I frequented the English school, being desirous of embracing many of the scholars who were formerly my own. And thence we proceeded, but slowly, be- cause of the forests and from fear of robbers, to Chalons; and thence, ten days’ journey amongst the hills, to the hospice of the Great Mount. And thence gladly we fared by the plains to Pavia; and so by easy journeys to Cremona, and Parma, and Biterba, and on the fifth day we arrived at Rome. I will not speak now of the greatness of that holy city, which I then beheld for the first time, but will proceed to relate what befell us there, according to your wish. “At the first I laboured for three days in the Curia, to obtain letters confirmatory; and after I had advanced many reasons on this behalf, our lord the Pope spoke to me benignly, Westminster.—The King's Court. 107 promising that the same should be granted. And thereupon I made a gift to him of a silver cup, of the value of six marks. But when I daily prayed for the delivery of these letters, our lord the Pope was unwilling, because he would first hear our adversaries, who had been detained by the way. And when I still further importuned him, he answered sharply, ‘Ye have had your answer,’ to which I replied quickly, ‘Yea, and a masterful one.’ Then he in great anger inquired, ‘Is it not also a just one?’ Whereupon, casting down my eyes, I replied again, ‘Lord, I know not’ But he forthwith com- manded me to keep silence and to withdraw. “ After this ] went to Piacenza, and afterwards to Pavia. And in the meantime our adversaries arrived in Rome, hav- ing been taken and plundered at Chalons. Therefore I too returned to the city after visiting Bologna, where I engaged certain of the most learned doctors in the civil law in our behalf. And after I had returned the Court ordered that we should be prepared to plead on the third day from then ; on which day, when we were all together before the Court, our lord the Pope said thus: ‘ Ye shall only speak to the matter and not of things immaterial.’ And thereupon we made our allegations on both sides, and our answers thereto on both sides. And once our lord the Pope cut short our adversaries’ allegation, saying fiercely, ‘We want no long history!’ so that their advocate, dismayed, lost the sense of his argument. And again, when they complained that I had engaged all the best advocates for our side, he laughed loudly, saying, ‘ There will never be found a lack of advocates in the Roman Court. And when I spoke in my turn, knowing the fastidiousness of our lord the Pope, I spoke briefly and to the point; but at the end I wept somewhat, when I related the evils that we had endured. Whereupon, turning towards the cardinals, he 108 Court Life under the Plantagenets. laughed, and whispered something to them, whereat they laughed also, And because our adversaries especially denied the authenticity of certain transcripts of briefs formerly received by the legate in England, pronouncing the opinion of the Roman Court for the divorce to be decreed, our lord the Pope commanded that they should be given to him; and when he had seen them, he gave them into the hands of the cardinals, who also examined them, and finally they commanded the clerks to search for the counter briefs, and afterwards compared them with our transcripts, declaring them to be authentic. And when we had concluded our arguments, and were all seated, our lord the Pope asked if we had any further allegations, and I then demanded judgment in our cause. But he commanded us to depart and write out our allegations, and deliver them to him the same day. And after I had done this, with the help of my advocates, there remained nothing to be considered of save the sentence itself, to procure which, in our favour, was plainly beyond our skill, unless also it was due to the justness of our cause. Nevertheless, during the following week we implored the Divine aid with prayer and fasting and continual almsgiving. And Master Sampson greatly assisted us at this time by his remarkable piety. For he not only remained fasting for five days, during all which time he perambulated the holy places and shrines of the city, commending our cause to the pilgrims and other devout per- sons there, giving alms also to all needy persons, whether they had craved them or no, so that the fame of his good works was noised abroad throughout the city ; but further, when we attended the Court again to receive sentence, kneeling in the door, he embraced the feet of each cardinal as he entered, as though he would wash them with his tears, so that all present, and even our adversaries, pitied his miserable condition. Westminster.—The King's Court. 109 “At length, about the ninth hour, our lord the Pope came forth from the inner council chamber with the cardinals, and because I saw that the ushers, whom I had loaded with gifts, smiled graciously upon me,I took heart. And when the cardinals were all seated, and we stood forth on one side, and our adversaries on the other, as had been our custom, our lord the Pope commanded, ‘ Stand ye together in the midst ; for now there is no longer any strife betwixt you, since we have brought you into peace with one another.’ And when we had come together, our lord the Pope began to recall the nature of our suit, and how, after full examination of N our allegations and other writings, sen- J tence had been prepared in the accustomed = IF manner. Yet I then took no note of his ~ I speech, because I was not able to compose my senses, standing like one in a dream, until the principal prothonotary of the Court arose, and began the reading of the sentence. But as soon as I heard the words, ‘to our beloved son, Richard de Anesti,’ then I was suddenly aware that we had gained our cause, for the sentence of the Court is ever wont to be addressed to the side that has prevailed. And when the sentence was read, we fell at the feet of our lord the Pope, and when we rose again, Master Sampson lay still at his feet like one dead, having fainted away through joy after his fasting. So we raised him up tenderly, and bore him away, and our lord the Pope ordered that we should receive the instrument to see, if it needed any correction; and having received his blessing, we departed joyfully. “After this we received the command of our lord the Pope Oe ear Fic. 25. IIO Court Life under the Plantagenets. that we should not leave the city. Moreover, we owed forty shillings to the merchants of Rome, who demanded to hold our instrument and writings in pawn for the same. And being all of us suffering through illness, we cast lots which should return alone to England for succour and to bear our tidings. And the lot fell upon Master Sampson, who departed from the city secretly. After whose departure | I daily implored the license and benediction of our lord the Pope, that I might depart also; but I could not obtain it because I had not yet visited him and the cardinals to bestow my gifts upon them, as the custom was. But because I was unable to do this for lack of means, and since my sick- ness increased daily, I borrowed forty shillings from a cértain clerk of the Bishop of Lincoln, who was then attending the Court in the matter of the appeal of the Abbot and Convent of St. Alban’s against the jurfsdiction of the said bishop. And having redeemed our instruments from the merchants, I changed my dress, and craving the license of the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and receiving the apostolical bene- diction, in the midst of the crowd, I departed secretly from the city. And each day till I had reached the hospice of the mount I was in fear lest I should be brought back ; but at length, with the Divine protection, I reached England in safety.” . At the conclusion of Master Jordan’s narrative, which had been listened to with deep attention by every one present, Richard de Anesti again resumed his story at the point where it had been left off. “When my clerks had returned from Rome, as you have just now heard, they delivered to me the sentence which confirmed the former one of adultery, whereof one instrument was directed to the Archbishop, another to Richard de Luci, PILE, IY, ‘os 7G tes animonthy ei ier a tee TS fo ie wll (ui \ : =f Le £5 Femi Magen pac we chs fxs at yf neg emuname pl. sek ae norfyorn a vm gua nts \ priya Say ye wie ylrae ft. cea ae comaan’ ad oe show Voce crit Sines wag ucbie f ance ‘aan ie aT ot ee lee ph fess way — Seat P if 6) Tienjes ere ee to Bain gl Spa cee HE, ees: Pure Sakiep ad wen a ee NS (ener f ee 7 bem oa Spee f. vporfall, « aps enpressa / (Fey | i } ee ee sGides (Beeman: Ue. : Le So nce me wep Ey n ur oe a F elles Mls ee -prfics tg hapa Ml sgellai' oer Nee! peal et ene Palen tae vearileg fy 20" wy TREE 1) cont oe stgien teen et, eau oe ee BULL OF ALEXANDER III. Westminster.—The King's Court. III and the third to me, and with these I went to my lord Richard de Luci, whom I found at Rumsey ; and there we awaited the return of the King, who was about to come back from Normandy. Thence I followed the Court for three weeks before I could make fine with the King; and because the King was vexed on account of his Holiness not having directed any brief to him, I sent a messenger on the following day to the Holy Father for a writ directed to the King (which my messenger afterwards brought to me on the Close of Easter, at Windsor). After I had fined with the King, my lord Richard de Luci, by the King’s precept, gave me a day for pleading at London, at Mid-Lent, and there was then a Council; and I came there with my friends and my helpers, and because he could not attend to this plea because of the King’s business, I tarried there four days, and from thence he gave me a day on the Close of Easter, and then the King, and my lord Richard, were at Windsor ; and at that day I came with my friends and helpers, as many as I could have, and in the meantime I sent my brother for Ranulph de Glaavill, and because my lord Richard could not attend to this plea because of the great plea of Henry de Essex, the judgment was postponed from day to day till the King should come to Reading, and at Reading in like manner it was postponed from day to day till he should come to Wallingford. Afterwards, because my lord Richard was going with the King in his war against Wales, he removed my plea into the Court of the Earl of Leicester at London; and there I came. But because I could not get on at all with my plea, I sent to my lord Richard in Wales, to the end that he might order that my plea should not be delayed; whereupon, by his writ, he ordered Ogier, the King’s server, and Ralph Brito to do tia Court Life under the Plantagenets. justice to me without delay. So they gave me a day at London. There I kept my day with my friends and helpers, and from thence my adversaries were summoned by the King’s writ, and by my lord Richard’s writ, that they should come before the King. And we came before the King at Woodstock, and there we remained for eight days, and at last, thanks to our lord the King, and by the judgment of his Court, my uncle’s lands were adjudged to me, being the sixth year since my suit began. Moreover, I had spent in these causes the whole of my substance, namely: for the expenses of my journeys and my living, and that of my messengers and others, £126 14s. besides eight palfreys and pack-horses that were killed in those journeys, £6 6s. 8d. ; and in gifts to my advocates and helpers in the Archbishop’s Court, £21; and in the King’s Court I spent in gifts, both of money and horses, £13; and to Ralph, the King’s phy- sician, I gave £21; and to the King a hundred marks of silver, and to the Queen a mark of gold for my fine. And besides the money I had of my own, I borrowed, of certain Jews at several times, the greater part of that which I spent ; and I paid £32 Is. od. for the usance thereof; and, in short, after I had enjoyed my uncle’s lands and goods for upwards of three years, I still owed fifteen marks of my fine to the King, and to Hakelot the Jew 427, the interest whereof had mounted up to £20 gs. Therefore, my lords, it seemeth to me that it is better for a man to have injustice done to him without much delay, than that he should lose, per- chance, more than he has gained by due process of law.” At the conclusion of Richard’s narrative of his famous law-suit, there was a renewal of the conversation upon judicial matters until the King’s return from hunting caused a general dispersal of the courtiers, Westminster.—The King's Court. rr In the course of the next few days the Court left London once more, but Richard chose to remain, partly because of the attraction offered by his pleasant intercourse with old friends amongst the clerks of Westminster and the canons of St. Paul’s, and partly, also, because he was as yet unable to make any fine with the King; so that he was resolved to await the session of the Easter Exchequer before taking more active steps in his own business. CHAPTER VIII. WESTMINSTER.—AT THE RECEIPT. THE windows of the tower, on the second floor of which the Treasurer’s chamber was situated commanded a full view of the north and east sides of the new palace, so that | Richard de Anesti, sitting at one of them on the morning of the Close of Easter, was able to watch the arrival of the barons and clerks at the Exchequer, and within a brief space after that of the sheriffs and other debtors of the Crown. The former, for the most part, passed immediately beneath the tower, having made use of the thoroughfare of the King’s Chapel, which offered the nearest approach to the Exchequer from the King’s House. The sheriffs, with their attendants, witnesses, and other interested parties, mostly came by boat; the rest on horseback or on foot through the north gate of the palace. As soon as the greater number of these had arrived,the Treasurer and his guest crossed the garden by a well-worn path, and in a few minutes found themselves at the entrance of the Exchequer House. This was a large two-storeyed building facing on to the courtyard, and containing four apartments, of which two on the ground-floor were low and vaulted, having only one external entrance by a massive doorway, while the windows were narrow and strongly barred. The approach to the upper floor was by an external stair from the courtyard, which led 114 Westminster.—At the Recerpt. 115 to a single doorway for both chambers. Richard already ‘knew the interior of this house only too well, and therefore he was aware that the lower storey contained the department of the Receipt and Treasury; the upper one, the Barons’ Court and Council rooms. Before the gate of the Receipt sat an usher, whose duty it was to regulate the admission of the suitors or messengers laden with money-bags who passed in and out. Outside the Exchequer House was collected a large group of persons whose uncouth and soiled attire bespoke pro- vincials and travellers. These, indeed, were the bailiffs and other debtors of the Crown, waiting to present themselves to the Justiciary according to the terms of their writs of summons; and they were now apparently beguiling the tedium of their delayed audience by attention to some anecdote which one of their number was reciting with ani- “mated gestures, to the evident appreciation of his listeners. On catching sight of the Treasurer, the speaker paused, and the whole assembly saluted him with much show of respect as, bowing gravely in response, he slowly ascended a broad stone staircase, at the head of which, opening on to a lobby, was the doorway of another spacious chamber — before which was seated another usher, younger and more richly apparelled than the other, who, with a deep obeisance, stood on one side for them to pass by. The chamber which they now entered was almost bare of furniture, but the walls were hung with rough unfulled cloths, and the mullioned windows: were pleasantly screened with linen blinds, while the floor was thickly carpeted with dried rushes. At the farther side a doorway, draped by a thick curtain, seemed to lead into an inner chamber. In the exact centre of this court-room stood a table, so low as to resemble a dais ie Court Life under the Plantagenets. around which benches were placed on the four sides, This table at once attracted attention from its peculiar design. It was about ten feet long and five feet wide, bordered on every side by a high ledge. On its surface a black cloth was spread, seemingly ruled into small squares by white chalk lines, presenting at some dis- tance the appearance of a gigantic chess table. - At the farther end of this table three or four officials were seated, whom Richard de Anesti at once recognised as the Constable of the King’s Court, with the Marshal and Chamber- lains of the Exchequer, and at the middle of one side a short, active-looking clerk was standing, sorting a heap of gold and silver coins or counters. Several serjeants of the Exchequer stood in the background, attentively waiting their masters’ orders. The solemn stillness which pervaded the chamber was broken only by the chinking of the pieces of money and by the rustling of some clerk’s pen upon smooth parchment ; but as the Treasurer advanced towards the head of the board, his colleagues rose and saluted him with mingled courtesy and deference. Richard had found a seat on the sheriffs’ bench near the door, and was prepared to give attention to the proceedings of the session, when the Marshal informed the Treasurer, in a low voice, that the Justiciary could not sit that day, and therefore he supposed that the sheriffs might be admitted to an audience and a further day be given them. This being done accordingly, the whole body joyfully departed in pursuit of the varied pleasures of the great city. “Behold, there is nothing to be done here until the morrow,” said the Treasurer, turning to his companion; Fic. 26. Westminster.—At the Recerpt. ey “and therefore, if you will, the business of the Receipt may first be inspected, to prepare you for the graver matters that attend us.” Richard having signified his willingness, they descended to the Receipt, where they found the work of the Easter session being busily carried on by the resident officials, -in a large and somewhat desolate chamber, furnished only with a few tables, desks, benches, and low stools. Near the door were stationed the three principal officials of the Receipt, namely, the two Deputy Chamberlains and the Treasurer’s clerk. These received each accountant as he entered, inquiring his name and business, which the clerk carefully noted in a strip of parchment. Then one of the Deputy Chamberlains, taking from him the money which he intended to pay in to his account, carried it to a large table at the other end of the room, at which four clerks, the Tellers of the Receipt, were seated, and emptied it out before them. The heap of silver pennies was then carefully mixed by one of these clerks, and the whole weighed by the Chamberlain in the Exchequer scale by single pounds, each of which was counted out by a separate Teller with inconceivable rapidity, and if the number of pennies was found correct (6 being allowed for light weight), the 240 pence so counted were poured into a wooden canister. When this, which held exactly five pounds, was filled, it was again weighed by the Chamberlain with nineteen others, in a chest which held a hundred pounds. In case the . payment was made by a sheriff on account of the blanch farm of his county, the Tellers first counted out from the original heap 44 shillings, which were placed by the Chamberlain in a small casket, on which, after the sheriff had himself sealed it, the Treasurer’s clerk wrote in 118 Court Life under the Plantagenets. chalk the name of the county, and after it the word “combustion.” The casket was then carefully put away for the trial of the pyx before the barons. The same official also sealed up every chest as soon as it was filled, and entered in a great roll, which the Treasurer informed Richard was the Receipt Roll of the Exchequer, the name of each accountant, with the date, amount, and nature of his payment. At the same time the second Chamberlain was engaged in cutting a tally for the amount just paid in and verified, for which purpose he selected, from a heap on the floor, a square shaft of wood about nine inches long, and grasping it firmly at one end with his left hand, pro- Fic. 27. ceeded to cut with a sharp knife certain notches on the uppermost surface, beginning at the end nearest his own body. Here he first cut a large notch, nearly as broad as his thumb, which stood for twenty pounds, and below that a deep slanting gash, without removing any of the wood, this being only a half-finished notch, by which half the former amount was signified. After this the tally was reversed, and three smaller notches were cut at the opposite extremity, each as wide as a barley-corn, succeeded by six nicks, each only a line in breadth, and eight single dints upon the smooth surface below these. When finished this tally was compared by the chamberlain with the. entry Westminster.—At the Receipt. 11g made by the clerk in the Receipt Roll in favour of the . accountant for a sum of £33 6s. 8d, and the amount being found correct, the same clerk wrote an inscription on each side of the shaft corresponding with the entry on the Receipt Roll. Then the chamberlain, taking up a mallet and chisel, cut half-way through the shaft of the tally at three inches from the base, and then split the stick down to this cross- cut with a single blow, thus dividing the tally into two unsymmetrical halves, of which the shorter one was handed to the accountant as his voucher for the profer; and the longer one, being that which had the undivided base or handle, was retained by the marshal. The accountant now withdrew, and was succeeded by another, with whom the whole process’ was repeated. The Treasurer here informed his friend that these transactions did not conclude the busi- ness upon which the debtors of the Crown were summoned. It was necessary for them to appear before the barons in the upper chamber on one of the following days, to render an account of the details of the profers made by them, and to witness the assay of the ferms, which were required to be blanched according to custom, when, if from the examina- tion of the state of their accounts, as the same were entered in the Exactory Roll of the Exchequer, it appeared that a due proportion had been advanced, they were then formally discharged until the Michaelmas session, when the balance - would be demanded of them. In fact, he added; there was no difference between the two sessions except that at Easter nothing was entered in writing in the great rolls of the Upper Exchequer, but only in those of the Receipt, At this moment a diversion was made in the proceedings by the entrance of one who came to receive money instead of paying ‘ being provided with a writ to that effect, This 120 Court Life under the Plantagenets. the Treasurer’s clerk took from him, and having carefully examined it, brought it to his master, who, after a glance at its contents, nodded his head in sign of approbation, where- upon the amount specified was counted down by one of the Deputy-Chamberlains, and entered by the clerk in a separate roll. This happened several times in the course of their visit—one who had been thus paid returning with the com- plaint that he had received a penny short, whereupon he was reminded of the invariable rule of the Exchequer that no mistake could be rectified after the party had passed the door of the Receipt. These payments, the Treasurer said, were casual allowances on account of expenses in the King’s service ; but on the morrow and following days the Con- stable and his clerk would attend with the Marshal of the Exchequer, for the half-yearly payment of the servants and pensioners of the royal household. Richard having observed at the farther side of the chamber an iron door, through which the serjeants of the Receipt carried the money-chests as soon as they were filled and sealed, inquired the nature of its use, and was informed by the Treasurer that it was the Treasury of the Receipt. This they presently entered, and found themselves in a bare, dark room, against the walls of which numbers of wooden boxes were piled, while several large iron chests, with massive clamps and double padlocks were placed near the windows on either side. These last, the Treasurer observed, contained treasures greater than gold or silver, being the repositories of the ancient records of the realm; and causing one of them to be opened by the serjeants, he showed ‘Richard the Book of Domesday, compiled from the great survey made by the King’s great grandfather, tog elite with the earliest year rolls, first made during the ministry of his ¥ uncle, Westminster.—At the Receipt. 121 Bishop Roger, of Salisbury, and many other curious relics of the ancient practice of the Exchequer. Retracing their steps into the Receipt, the Treasurer and his companion walked round that part of the chamber used as a scriptorium, and stood for a while watching the industrious labours of the clerks before concluding their visit. As they passed out of the door-way of the house, theTreasurer invited Richard to pass the afternoon with him in his own chamber, to which he readily agreed. Accordingly, after dinner, at which he was entertained by the Keeper of the King’s Palace, _ he enjoyed the privilege of inspecting the contents of his friend’s aumbries, well-stored with the rarest manuscripts, among which he did not fail to notice the famous chronicle of the acts of the present King, in the author’s own hand, and the unfinished treatise concerning the practice of the Ex- chequer, with the Liber Curialium, and many more, the view of which incited Richard to make the following request,— “Master, you have formerly promised, when I shall sit beside you at the Exchequer, to make known to me the state of the King’s revenue as it is now rendered to him. But I would fain know in the first place whence this Exchequer and revenue are derived.” “Your question is a difficult one, brother,” replied the Treasurer thoughtfully; “ yet I will answer it to the best of my ability. Know, then, that in the primitive state of this king- dom before the Conquest, the kings—who then chiefly flour- ished less through their success in warfare than through their care for their subjects’ welfare (whatever some have thought to the contrary)—each in turn. enjoyed such assignment of arable and pasture and wood as might suffice to maintain their royal state. The rest of the cultivated land was possessed by their followers, each man after his degree, of whom, indeed, 19° Court Life under the Plantagenets. some became poorer and others richer than the rest, according to each man’s worth and industry. And such land as was "not thus assigned, or which remained waste, was regarded at first as the land of the whole nation, but afterwards of the king, from which he might reward his men or endow the Church of Christ, with the advice of his bishops and other wise men, who were witnesses of those gifts, as may yet be seen by the charters here in the Exchequer. In the succeed- ing period, however, the whole of these common lands were ‘no longer to be distinguished from the rest of the royal lands, so that grants were made by the king from both alike, even as is done in the present day. All these then, namely farms and fisheries and forests, were cultivated by the king’s bailiffs, who answered for the same to the great officers of his house- hold, but in provisions of every kind, and not in money. Thus it continued to be done after the Conquest, whereby the king was enabled to supply the daily necessities of his house- hold or to make provision for warfare. Some farms were charged with the supply of wheat and drage for bread, others with that of malt for mead and ale, or of oats and barley for the stable. The grazing farms rendered carcases of beeves and sheep, and the woodlands yielded bacons and gammons, Each bushel of corn or carcase was assessed at a fixed price, so that he who was charged with £10 must provide either 200 ~ oxen or 600 sheep or 200 measures of grain, each sufficient to make bread for 100 men or for 200 horses. Old men now living have told me how that on the eve of a feast, or of an expedition, the air would be filled with clouds of dust from the innumerable herds which approached the Court. The rivers were choked with barges, and the roads with wains or pack-horses. Great then was the distress of the poor husbandman, compelled not only to lose his oxen and sheep, Westminster.—At the Recerpt. 123 but to drive them many leagues to the Court or tosome royal castle. Then came atime when a righteous king, grandfather of the King that now is, heard and pitied their complaints. Moreover, he was compelled by the necessities of his foreign wars, both to hold his courts oftentimes abroad, and also to pay an army of foreign mercenaries, so that he had little use for this provision of fresh victuals, and cast about how he might exchange the same. Therefore he sent his officers into every shire, who assessed the farms of the Crown in value of money instead of in kind, appointing also new money, and bidding his sheriffs to collect his revenue in good silver by weight according to each man’s assessment. When this was done, the sheriffs and bailiffs brought their money, as it was called for, into the royal treasury, or into the coffers of the king’s chamber in his Court, wherever it might be, being allowed for. such provisions as there was still occasion for them to provide after the rate.” “But was there not before this,” inquired Richard, “any supply of money for the king’s service? Moreover, how should the cities which paid farms to the Crown discharge the same in provisions of this kind ?” “You anticipate my discourse of these things,” replied the Treasurer ; “for know that the farms of the Crown, in kind or in money, form but a portion of the king’s revenue, whereof there are two other principal sources, of which I was about to speak next, namely, his prerogative of commerce, and that of justice. And, although it be probable that at the first the issues of each of these were received in kind, as we may yet see in the wine which is taken as a toll by the King’s chamberlains, and in the hawks or palfreys which are acquitted at the Exchequer, yet from very early times both merchants and other suitors rendered their fines and 124 Court Life under the Plantagenets. amerciaments equally in silver, which supplied the king’s chief needs. “Now first of the prerogative of the control of commerce, which as it seems to some arose first out of his ownership of the public lands. For of these, by reason of the grants afore- said, little remained before the Conquest save forests and rivers, which afterwards were reserved by those kings for the sake of hunting, wherein they especially delighted, and also for provision of game and fish. So that I have seen in the reign of the present King letters directed to the sheriff of divers counties, for deer to be provided for meat to the king’s army, besides great provision of bucks and wild-boars, and fish and fowl, against feast-days and ceremonies. In course of time many cities and towns were founded upon the king’s demesne, both inland and on the coasts of the sea; for men have thought it better to commit themselves to the king than to seek the protection of any other lord. All these cities and towns, then, the king was lord of, with the highways and rivers along which they passed, and also of the creeks and harbours into which they brought their ships. And by reason of the king’s defence of the forests and rivers for his own hunting and fowling, they were cleared of all dangers and impediments, whereby merchants were benefited in no small measure. And in order that the citizens might know how they should stand, the king ordained a farm to be paid by them for their franchise, and tolls for the passage of their goods at the ports and upon the rivers and by land. And thereupon they gladly made fine with the king at the Exchequer. “ And the second prerogative of the king, which is that of justice, arose in this way ; being also closely joined with the former one, as you will perceive.” With these words the Westminster.—At the Receipt. 125 Treasurer rose from his seat, and crossing the chamber opened one of the iron-bound chests before noticed, and took from it a large vellum-bound book. “This,” he said, resuming his seat and laying the book open upon his knees, “is the famous Domeboc, or register of Saxon laws, which by some is be- lieved to have been made by Alfred, the King of the West- Saxons. This book is held in especial regard by Master Ranulf de Glanvill, who, indeed, compiled therefrom a cer- tain treatise on the ancient laws and customs of this king- dom, as they were observed before the Conquest and after- wards confirmed by Norman kings. And now, if you will, I purpose to read to you such passages from those laws as seem to me to explain the origin of the king’s peace.” Here-_ with the Treasurer commenced to read aloud from this book several extracts from the laws referred to. “Thus you may see,” he resumed, after closing the book, “that all three branches of the revenue came to be paid at this time in money, which was received and accounted for at the Exchequer.” “ And where,” inquired Richard, “was this Exchequer first erected ?” : “You ask a difficult question,” replied the Treasurer, “But first, let me tell you that the Exchequer itself forms but a part of the King’s Court which follows his person wheresoever . he may repair, yet not as pleas of the Crown, which are most often held at some one of his palaces, but usually in some great city, as Winchester, or Oxford, or Northampton, and especially here at Westminster, whether the king be present orno. And formerly, all the king’s treasure, whether in silver or in goods, was paid into the chamber of his palace to the hands of his chamberlains, who accounted for the same with his treasurer, and paid such sums as they were directed by 126 Court Life under the Plantagenets. his writs. And afterwards the larger treasure which was collected, besides jewels and plate and vestments of all kinds, was laid up in the royal treasury at Winchester, and at other times at Westminster in the church there. And here, also, many rolls and other writings concerning the state of the kingdom were preserved; but nevertheless, all things that were needed for daily use, both money and rolls and tallies and seals, were then and still are deposited in the king’s chamber, or in the Treasury of the Receipt. This chamber, then, of which I have made mention, was an ancient member of the palace, holding the middle place between the king’s council and court in the great hall there, and the innermost lodging where he slept ; for here the great thegns were wont to attend; namely, the constable, who had the charge of the king’s beasts and birds, and likewise of ‘their keepers, whether captains or serjeants or grooms or falconers or bearwards ; the marshal who assisted the constable herein, and also kept the king’s peace within the precincts; and the chamberlains themselves, who kept the king’s wardrobe, with the treasurer as aforesaid. And afterwards there were certain clerks among the king’s chaplains, or from among the learned canons of St. Paul’s or of Waltham or elsewhere, who made all writings under the eye of the chancellor, who examined and sealed them. These clerks being found more skilful in business, and rather to be trusted than laymen, were usually employed upon the king’s business both at home and abroad, being often sent by the king through the counties to execute justice, and especially to view the levying of fines and amerciaments, and for the assessment of taxes. And not long afterwards the Court and Exchequer were erected for the due adminis- tration of justice and of the king’s revenue. Wherefore certain of these clerks were appointed by the king as his Westminster.—At the Recerft. 127 justiciaries, with other barons and knights, who were also for the most part sheriffs of the counties and governors of the castles, and other clerks and serjeants ministered to them, or were sent everywhere as the king’s agents, to buy and sell, and to conduct his wines or treasure, and the like. “ Then it was seen that these justices must be skilful to hear and determine pleas, and especially those at the Exchequer. Therefore, the ministry of the king’s treasury was assigned to certain clerks who sat there at appointed terms, to examine the accounts of farms and fines; and these sessions were said to be “at the tallies,” because of the quittances which were then first delivered to accountants, who were now in danger of being summoned for their debts to the king. Also, for every pound of silver paid into the treasury six pence more were exacted, and afterwards twelve, to trim the balance, and later none was received from most accountants except by weight, and again from others also by the assay. And by this time these sessions had come to be called the Exchequer, from the chequered board whereon the accounts were pre- sented by counters, and also by a metaphor from the contest between the treasurer and the sheriff, which was thought by some barons who had fought in the Holy Land to resemble the chess-game of the Easterlings, just as the counting table resembled one of chess-boards of ebon-wood and _ ivory, inlaid, which Duke Robert brought home with him amongst the spoils of the Saracens’ tents. However this may be, it was to this ministry or Exchequer that the renowned Bishop of Salisbury was called by King Henry, the first of that name, and to his care and skill it doth owe its present excel- lence. For he not only caused all the silver of the farms to be assayed, compelling the sheriff to make good what was lost by the fire, but he perfected the science of the 128 Court Life under the Plantagenets. Accounts of the Exchequer, and caused them to be com- mitted to writing in the Great Rolls and others which are still preserved ; and, in short, turned all things to the profit of the kingdom. This is the origin of the king’s revenue and of the Exchequer, as I received it in my youth from old men who had themselves seen the things which I have described to you.” After this the two friends conversed freely on many sub- jects, as was their custom, until the twilight deepened in the shadows of the surrounding buildings, and the watch-light might be seen at the Exchequer house.. Then Richard took leave of the son of Nigel until the morning, and departed towards the city before the palace gates were closed. CHAPTER IX. WESTMINSTER.—AT THE EXCHEQUER. ON the appointed morning, before matins, Richard de Anesti waited on the Treasurer and accompanied him to the Exchequer, where they found all things in readiness for the further business of the session. Richard de Luci, the justiciary, was now present, and placed our courtier on his 129 K 130 Court Life under the Plantagenets. right hand, in the place usually reserved, as the Treasurer whispered to him, for the famous Bishop of Winchester, now absent on the King’s affairs in Normandy. The Treasurer himself took his seat at the head of the bench which was placed on the right side of the table, where he might over- look the operations of the clerks who occupied the next two places. These were the scribe of the Great Roll, who sat next to the Treasurer, and who wrote from his dictation, and the scribe of the duplicate Chancellor’s Roll, who copied from his brother of the pen, under the eye of the Chancellor’s clerk, who sat fourth on this bench; whilst behind these, perched on a high seat, another scribe, instructed by the King’s confidential clerk, Master Thomas Brown, an ex- official of the Sicilian Court, noted such matters as seemed chiefly to concern the King’s interests. On the President’s left the Marshal, Constable, and the two Chamberlains had their seats, and about half-way down the bench, on the left side of the table, the Calculator stood ready to display the state of the accounts in effigy, by means of counters. At the bottom of the table sat Master Brown himself, and at a respectful distance several of the foremost sheriffs were grouped, their servants standing behind them armed with tallies and vouchers to be produced in their master’s credit. Several courtiers and officials of less note filled up the gaps in the benches, and completed a spectacle which was both curious and impressive. Richard now learnt that the profers of the county of Hampshire and the two great cities of Winchester and Southampton were to be rendered first that day, of which fact indeed he was already aware, having heard proclamation made thereof to the crowd of interested debtors of the Crown ° which surrounded the door of the Exchequer. Westminster.—At the Exchequer. 131 By command of the President, the other sheriffs who were present in the chamber were now excluded by the usher ; and the sheriff of Hampshire, Richard de Gundevill,a portly man with a merry eye, whom Richard at once recognised as the ribald story-teller whose acquaintance he had made in the king’s chamber, was left sitting apart with his servants and several debtors of his county, for whom he was about to answer, facing the Treasurer. The latter now rose and inquired of the Sheriff in a mild voice if he was ready to render the view of his account. “Ready I am,” replied the Sheriff firmly. Then the Treasurer’s scribe, who had been busily writing in a stately hand, at the top of a parchment membrane, the name of the county and the sheriff's name below it, paused, and the Treasurer, refreshing his memory by a glance at the Exactory Roll, resumed,— “You are charged first with £8 145, the residue of last year’s farm ; have you paid this sum into the Treasury ?” “TI have,” replied the Sheriff, producing a small wooden tally, which, being handed to the Marshal and compared by him with the official counterfoil, the Treasurer’s scribe wrote against this sum, “ Paid in the Treasury.” “You are charged next with £510 6s. od. for this year’s farm,” pursued the Treasurer, referring to the great Exactory Roll, in which all the farms of the counties were fairly entered. “Are you prepared to profer any part of this sum?” “Tam,” replied the Sheriff, whereupon the scribe, without entering the amount cited by his master, merely wrote against the words “This year’s farm,” “In the Treasury,” leaving a blank space for the subsequent entry of the cash payment. “Do you demand allowance as before,” inquired the ua2 Court Life under the Plantageneds. Treasurer, “for alms, and tithes, and usual disbursements made by you out of your farm.” “TI do,” answered the Sheriff, producing various tallies and vouchers, by which it appeared that he had paid in alms to the Knights of the Temple, one mark, besides which he demanded allowance for certain lands granted by the King to various barons, courtiers, officials, holy monks and nuns, royal artificers, and others, all of which were a dead loss to himself. He also put in vouchers for certain building work performed by him at the royal castle of Winchester, as well as for the entertainment of several members of the recent Spanish legation, and for numerous provisions for the King’s household, in support of which he informed the President that he was ready to produce the evidence of sworn overseers appointed by the Crown if it were deemed necessary. These accounts having been carefully examined, were put on one side by the Marshal, the Treasurer making a note of the total amount expended. The allowances claimed for payments already made from his farm being now admitted, the Sheriff was further charged by the Treasurer with the remaining items of revenue for which he was responsible to the Crown. In the first place he made a profer of purprestures and escheats during the past half-year. Amongst which were included the forest rents and dues. The settlement of the numerous items of this portion of the sheriff's accounts being evidently a work of some time, Richard de Anesti, anxious to understand the nature of this branch of the revenue, and seeing his friend the Treasurer fully occupied in checking the details of the payments already made, turned to the Justiciary and craved the favour of an explanation of the several terms. This request Richard de Luci readily acceded to. Westminster.—At the Exchequer. ras “To begin with the first,” he said: “a Purpresture is a trespass committed against the sovereign interests or dignity of the King, being also to the public inconvenience. Thus, if a certain lord, who enjoys no franchise by royal charter, has excluded the public from a navigable river, whether by claim of a private fishery or preserve for wild fowl, on the inquest of the jurors of the Hundred he is fined for his presumption; or if any person whosoever encroaches on such a water by means of fish weirs, or mills, or other obstructions, the same are to be removed, or at least the trespasser is assessed in a heavy fine for his contempt. And this law is more ancient than the Conquest, being especially enforced by command of King Edward. However, in the present day it is somewhat forgotten, and most of the purprestures that are answered here are for trespasses upon the King’s farms, such as happened most frequently in the reign of King Stephen, and even during the late tumult.of civil war. It happeneth, too, that the king’s forest is oftentimes destroyed by those who in their greed seek to enrich themselves at the expense of other: people, enclosing waste lands and removing their poorer neighbours’ land-marks. It is found, however, most surely that sooner or later these men grow bold by impunity, and stretch out their hands over the king’s forest, felling and stubbing the trees, and ploughing the woodlands, or enclosing them for pasture. Then the king himself, or his justices, taking note of the wrongful spoils, visit the offenders, as we shall presently see, with a grievous fine. It may happen, indeed, that by the king’s license certain tracts of forest are converted into pasture, by payment of an annual rent, which are accounted for here under the name of wood-rents, not being included in the farm of the Crown lands, because their value is ever fluctuating. As for Escheats, I need say little a8 134 Court Life under the Plantagenets. concerning those to yourself, for I think that your own experience is not small in that way.” As they conversed thus, the view of the “casual farm,” as the purprestures, escheats, and wood-rents were called, was completed. This was made up, as Richard saw from the items set down by the Treasurer, chiefly from purprestures, escheats, and wood-rents, the balance being accounted for by casual profits, such as pannage, and profit of royal salt mines. With regard to these dues, Richard noticed that they were by no means expected to be paid by the sheriff in specie, but that he was allowed for certain fixed charges settled upon the canons of certain neighbouring churches, and for other purposes. After this the Treasurer next examined the individual accounts of this shire, both those for which whole districts was liable, according to the visitations and assessments of the justices or barons, as well as the several debts of suitors or offenders, The particulars of the several accounts were duly produced, and scrutinized by the Treasurer; and as most of them were somewhat obscure, Richard was delighted to find that the Justiciary, who seemed to be familiar with the contents of all of them, kept up a running commentary designed for his edification, as follows: “The first debtor just called by the Treasurer will not answer, for the good reason that he is supposed to be in another county, in which, and not here, he will render his account; so that the scribe, you see, is making a cross reference to Windsor, where payment will be entered. “See, here is Richard Fitz-Turstin’s brother William again, | as he has been for the last seven years, I warrant you, to say he has yet got no money for his brother’s debt, for he died in arrears with his farm some £70 or £80, and his brother here Westminster.—At the Exchequer. 135 is answerable for his estate, which, as all men know, was wzd, and so the scribe will write him down as owing the same, and the Marshal will not be called in to visit this contempt as yet. “Here is another man without money or voucher ; but he has an excuse which you will see is a good one. Tis William de Fiscamps, I remember well, who offered the King a mark of gold’ to forward his suit; but as yet he has not had sentence in his favour, and so it would be unreasonable for the King to take a share of the bargain, not fulfilling the other part of it. “ Here is Hugo de Laci’s steward come to pay another in- stalment of the great fine in which his master was amerced, and which he is loth enough to pay, being safe in Ireland. See, he has paid but four marks, and owes still nearly thirty. But this last debtor who is approaching is in still worse case, for he has appealed his adversary by the King’s leave, for which he agreed to pay £33 6s.3@, and will gain nothing thereby, or may chance to be worsted. He can pay nothing now, and will be written down in debt.” At this point there was a pause in the proceedings, the list of individual accountants being apparently exhausted. Almost immediately after, however, the Chancellor’s clerk rose in his place, and taking in his hand a long roll, to the end of which the Great Seal was affixed, proceeded to demand of the Sheriff an account of each item entered thereon. “ That is the original summons served upon the Sheriff by the usher yonder last Hilary,” explained the Justiciary, “and which he has now returned into the Exchequer to be viewed. The Chancellor's clerk undertakes this matter because the summons was originally compiled by his scribe; and for the rest, it is by the King’s instruction. Every item of which payment or allowance so proved you will see him strike 136 Court Life under the Plantagenets. through with his pen, those not satisfied will be charged again in the next session. But come now, as this promises to be a tedious business, I will tell you somewhat of the assessed taxes of the kingdom, and of the privileges of us barons in respect to them. “There are, as you know, certain imperial taxes which the King levies from the whole body of his subjects on appointed occasions. The most ancient of these is the Danegeld, which was instituted by the king and wisemen long before the Con- quest, as some say, to pay off the Danish pirates, but rather, as it seems to me, for a war levy to provide for the kingdom’s defence. For this purpose at least it was continued, after the Conquest, by the Norman kings, who were equally careful of the safety of their new subjects; but from the beginning of the present reign it has been rarely exacted, and is now almost wholly discontinued. And some think that Arch- bishop Thomas was the cause of this, who is said both to have introduced the scutage in its place, and to have for- bidden its further levy to the King’s face at his council of Woodstock, when the first quarrel between them arose. But neither of these statements is true, for that tax was a hidage, such as is still levied within honours and bailiwicks in the King’s hands by ancient custom. The next tax in order of date is the Murder, which was imposed upon the Englishry after the Conquest for the safety of the king’s Norman followers. Many of these being treacherously slain by the natives, who lurked unsubdued in the woods and marshes, the king ordained that for every man not being proved of Saxon birth who was found murdered, the Hundred in which the murder was committed should pay a heavy fine; and this was found a sufficient preventive. But now that the two races are utterly mixed by inter-marriages, Westminster.—At the Exchequer. 137 a moderate fine is exacted instead, for every murder, without regard to nationality. Besides these two, the essarts, of which we took note before, are assessed upon every Hundred within the shire, according to hides, for which assessment there is a regular scale, according to the value of the land placed under cultivation. Other taxes there are which fall under the head of “aids,” such as the aid of the country or of the town, which are assessed periodically by the itinerant justices or barons, and with these is reckoned the aid for marrying the king’s daughter, which was levied last year when the princess married the Sicilian King, besides that for making the King’s eldest son a knight, and for ransoming the King’s person from captivity, an occasion for which has happily not yet arisen. “ Moreover, the King’s tenants who hold of him by knight service are liable for the scutage in lieu of military service, _ whereby the King may employ an army of Brabancons or other mercenaries, and so may spare the lives of his own people. This tax is said to have been first invented after the Conquest by Archbishop Lanfranc, to utilize the knights of the bishops and other churchmen ; and so you may see, in the earliest Pipe Rolls of the present reign, the sheriff fre- quently charged with the scutage of the bishops’ knights, as now he is with that of all military tenants. And you must know that the sheriff himself is responsible for all of the above assessed taxes, and they are entered in his name. “Next as to the immunity of the Barons of the Exchequer from all taxes of this nature assessed upon their lands. It is certain that they have always been held exempt by reason of their office. For just as pious kings have given grants of _ lands to religious houses, to be held without any burthen, in consideration of prayers and like good offices, so they have extended their favour to others, such as the Knights of the 138 Court Life under the Plantagenets. Temple and the Brethren of the Hospital of St. John in Jerusalem, and lastly to the Barons of the Exchequer, grant- ing to them by their charters exemption from all assessments at the Exchequer, which charters once produced by them are accepted as a perpetual release from such payments, and this _ is now grown into a custom. I remember, however, not long after your suit was ended in the King’s Court, that Robert, Earl of Leicester, being then Justiciary, thought good to obtain a special writ of exemption, in respect of the assart assessed upon his lands within a certain county, whereat the other barons, who had none such writs to show, were sore dismayed; and Nigel, Bishop of Ely, who was then Treasurer, reasoned with the Earl thereon, and so did many others; so that in fine he was compelled for very shame to plead the custom like the rest. But now let us quit this subject, for it will soon be time for the ceremony of closing the profer.” Turning his attention once more to the business of the hour, Richard followed the progress of the sheriff’s profer, in which the items of the several assessments, fines, or composi- tions as yet decided by the justices intinerant, and returned by them into the Exchequer, were included, and among which he particularly noticed the following :—A Hundred fined for a murder, and three others smaller sums for false judgments ; the men of the Isle of Wight t1oos. for delaying to appear before the justices, which fine was remitted by the King’s writ ; the assessments of the chief towns of the county which had as yet been collected ; heavy fines, often tendered to the King in person, in gold or besants, by Jews; a charger given by a courtier to obtain the royal favour; vintners fined for retailing wine by unlawful measures ; a clerk fined because he impleaded the Abbess of Winchester contrary to the Westminster.—At the Exchequer. 139 King’s writ; a landowner fined for appropriating a fishery without title or warrant. Among the multitudinous items of this account, which were mostly of small amount, Richard perceived that the fines of those who lay in the King’s mercy for trespasses upon royal forests were unusually heavy, ranging from 400 marks on Herbert the courtier, down to half a mark on Her- bert the huntsman. It also appeared that for every debtor for whom he answered in this way, the sheriff received a separate tally; thus, in the case of the aid of the towns of the county, the sheriff had paid in 455 2s. 8d. in eleven tallies, being one for each, including two linked towns; and again, in that of a debt of £76 6s. 8d. for the forest tres- passes of the twenty-second year, which was in arrear, the sheriff had paid in no less than thirty-nine different sums, collected by him probably from the same number of debtors, and for which he had received thirty-nine tallies, As soon as the list of debts entered on the summons: were checked by the Chancellor’s clerk, those which were satisfied being struck off by him, a general move- ment was made by the barons present towards the middle of the table, where the Calculator was _ seated, with a pile of Fie. 29. silver and gold coins of different sizes before him, which Richard was told were the Exchequer counters,—outlandish money received from foreign merchants, which, not being available for currency, was reserved for this purpose. Then the President, turning 140 Court Life under the Plantagenets. to the senior Chamberlain, inquired of him if all things were prepared for passing the accounts; who answered that none of the silver paid into the Receipt by this sheriff since : Easter had been blanched, having been received only recently. Upon hearing this the President gave certain directions to the usher, who disappeared, returning shortly with an officer, who carried in his hand a small box, the con- tents of which he poured upon the table. These proved to be silver pennies, of which 240 were counted out by the Calculator, and having been further weighed against the standard pound, were returned to the box. This was now taken up again by the officer, who prepared to leave the chamber accompanied by Hugo de Gundevill and two other sheriffs named by him as umpires on his side. Anxious to witness the spectacle of the assay, Richard, by the President’s permission, followed them to the furnace, which stood in a recess of the Receipt. Here they found the Melter, with bare arms and leather apron, busily blowing the furnace to a white heat. Ata sign from the officer who carried the box, this person came forward, and, doffing his leather cap, held it out to the Sheriff, who threw into it two silver pennies. Having pocketed these, the Melter took the box, and select- ing an iron crucible from his stock, placed it on the glowing _ charcoal, and threw into it the silver pieces, counting them by shillings as he did so. The Sheriff and his friends now drew close and watched the operator narrowly, as he deftly skimmed the dross from the molten silver. Then, as Richard looked, he could see Westminster.—At the Exchequer. 141 first a few black bubbles floating on the surface, then, as these dispersed, the whole mass shone like quicksilver for a few seconds, till suddenly a number of bright particles rose from the bottom, at the first sight of which the Melter caught the crucible from the fire and emptied its con- tents into an iron mould, from which, in a few minutes, he turned out a small lump of solid silver, which the officer who was with them placed in the box and led the way back, followed by the sheriffs, whom Richard could overhear grumbling to themselves at the unreasonable length of time that the silver had been subjected to the fire. Having returned to the upper chamber, the officer placed the bar of silver in the scale, and proceeded to throw in pennies one by one, till the ninth that he cast in turned the scale. Thereupon he withdrew to the Receipt, and one of the chamberlains informed Richard that the whole of the silver of the sheriff's farm would now be subject to a deduc- tion of ninepence in each pound, in order to “blanch” or purify it, according to ancient custom and the condition of his contract. The barons now once more drew round the table, and the Calculator, rising at a signal from the Treasurer, turned back the sleeve of his right arm, and, leaning forward, arranged his counters in the spaces of the chequered board to represent the sum which was entered in the exactory roll as the amount of the farm of Hampshire. The combination used for this purpose, though in appearance somewhat intricate, was easily understood by the knowledge that each column marked a separate denomination, beginning with pence on the right, and advancing by shillings, pounds, scores and hundreds of pounds, towards the left. After this the Calculator arranged in the same way, in 142 Court Life under the Plantagenets. corresponding spaces below, the cash payment made by the sheriff, deducting ninepence in every pound ; and below this, in separate rows, the value of lands granted out of the county, and the various payments made. by the sheriff on behalf of the Crown, deducting twelve pence from every pound. Then, the whole being set out, he rapidly deducted the total of the payments from the total of the farm, show- ing that rather less than a half had been paid in; whereupon the President, after withdrawing for consultation with the barons, in the council-chamber, formally accepted this profer, and a new tally was ordered to be cut in the Receipt for the amount. After this Richard rejoined his friend the Treasurer, to whom he expressed the value of the instruction which he had received during the recent ceremony. “ Behold, master!” he said, “this table, with its chequers and counters, seems to me in truth to resemble a chess-board, and these grave barons the onlookers at the game which you yourself have waged with the sheriff.” “It is so indeed,” replied the Treasurer, “and the parable seems to hit the truth. As for yourself, I saw you in good hands, and I doubt not that you have profited as you aver. Perchance though I might have shown you more weighty matters in Tricolumnus, and that other treatise of ours con- cerning the observances of the Exchequer; for let me tell you that the spectacle is not everything.” Then, as Richard had business to attend to in the city at the hour of noon, he took leave of the Treasurer, and went out into the glare and noise of the streets, still pondering on the things which he had both seen and heard. CHAPTER X. WINDSOR.—WITH THE KING. On the following morning, Richard de Anesti, sitting at the window of the Treasurer’s chamber, could see the train of pack-horses and ox-wains ready to convey a consignment of the treasure just received at the Exchequer, under the escort of the deputy chamberlains, to the royal treasury at Win- chester, where the King was about to gather his army with stores of every kind for the war abroad, and whence it would be more conveniently drafted as required to the final rendez- vous at Portsmouth or Southampton. From the tidings that had reached London from time to time of the King’s move- ments since his departure into the provinces, it was known that after a hunting bout at Marlborough, he had been in progress to Canterbury before Easter, to receive the Earl of Flanders, and to speed him on his expedition to the Holy Land with the Lord Mandeville. Thence he had returned again to London, leaving it on the eve of the Close of Easter for the eastern counties. The latest news from the Court spoke of a council at Geddington, where various castles which had been resumed after the late rebellion were finally dis- posed of, and the same information announced the King’s intended visit to Windsor, Therefore Richard, after consult- ing with his friend the Treasurer, decided to follow the Court once more, in the hope of obtaining some satisfactory assurance with respect to his own suit. 143 144 Court Life under the Plantagenets.. The western road, though wild and in places almost impas- sable for carts, presented few obstacles to a well-mounted horseman, while the frequent requirements of the royal house- hold insured ample provision for man and beast by the way. Therefore, a day’s hard riding brought the lord of Anesti and his followers to their destination at the King’s house of Windsor, where he was hospitably received by the chamber- lains and marshals, and lodged in one of the temporary wooden structures surrounding the palace. At Windsor, Richard found the whole Court devoted to hunting, or rather to hawking, taking advantage of the few days that remained before the close of the season. Therefore, on the morning following his arrival, he was invited to join the royal train by Eustace Fitz-Stephen, one of the King’s chamberlains with whom he was acquainted. The direction taken by the King, who rode in front attended by his senes- chal, marshal, constables, chamberlains, falconers, and other household officers, was towards a neighbouring wood, where there was a noted eyry of herons, and there, in a marshy meadow by the woodside, they could see in the distance several of the great birds of which they were in quest. The King was desirous of proving a magnificent Norway hawk of a snowy whiteness, being a variety especially esteemed, which Richard knew that the Treasurer had recently accepted on his own responsibility as part of the fine of a foreign merchant at the Easter Exchequer, since the master of the King’s hawks refused ordinarily to receive falcons at that season, on account of the risk during the moulting time. As soon as the falconers with their dogs had flushed the nearest of the quarry, the noble falcon, already unhooded, was thrown off upon his track. Then, although the heron flew as stoutly as could have been Windsor.— With the King. 145 wished, the falcon, cutting the air with her strong pinions, closed in upon him, and overtopped him in ever narrowing circles, when, having gained her distance, she stooped upon him like a thunderbolt, and down they fell together, through a cloud of feathers, into the tree-tops on the edge of the wood, As soon as the falcon had been secured and the game bagged by the falconers, they proceeded to the other side of the wood, where they enjoyed a similar flight with equal success. After this they rode some distance towards a swamp, where the falconers expected that they would find an old and wary heron, wherefore the King caused a fair ger- falcon to be held in readiness to join with the white hawk in the next flight. They came presently to the edge of the marsh, and, as soon as the dogs had plunged in, a great white bird resembling a heron, but greater, and with a red beak, long and pointed like a lance, rose heavily with a hoarse cry, from the farther shore. “Tis a crane!” exclaimed the King eagerly, “a choice quarry, and a rare one,” The great bird had now steadied itself in its flight, and the falcons were swiftly thrown off in pursuit. It was truly a stir- ring sight to see how the quarry leaped to the desperate strokes of his wings as soon as he was aware of these enemies on his track,and how the noble falcons mounted swiftly yet as steadily as though but upon an airing. The party meantime set spurs ~ to their horses and galloped round the marsh to follow the chase. After a flight of some twenty minutes, the ger-falcon, which had reached a higher pitch than her fellow, stooped somewhat wildly, grazing the quarry’s wing, and failing to bind him, so that she was thrown quite thirty yards out of the chase. But this availed the quarry little, for the white hawk now stooped so resolutely upon him, that he fell fluttering ‘ L 146 Court Life under the Plantagenets. downwards, bound in the cruel clutches of his captor, and struck the ground with a heavy thud, breaking his long neck with the shock, After some little trouble the ger-falcon was reclaimed, dnd the party turned their horses’ heads in the direction of the forest, where the country was less cultivated, and the swamps were favourable to the presence of wild fowl; and here at length they surprised the old heron which the falconers had described to them, standing motionless in the shal- lows of a large mere. No sooner was he flushed than the King threw off the noble falcon which he bore on his left wrist, and which was held to be unmatched in England for breed and training. An exciting struggle followed, the quarry adopting the bold tactics of towering directly upwards, as though he meant to seek shelter in the clouds. But he was no match for his pursuer in this kind of flight, for with incred- ible swiftness she gained her vantage for the stoop, and hung for one moment suspended on her broad pinions, both being in full view some two hundred feet above the spectators’ heads. At this sight Henry, wild with excitement and joy, burst out into his favourite oath: “ By God’s eyes, that quarry shall not escape, though God Himself had sworn it.” As the King spoke the falcon made her stoop fair upon the great dark body below. Then a strange thing happened ; for the heron, quick as _ thought, threw himself on his back, and with a sudden dart of his long neck transfixed the falcon’s throat and head with his beak, so that she fell like a stone at the King’s feet, dead, whilst the quarry continued his flight unscathed. Exclamations of awe and dismay greeted this ill-omened occurrence. Henry himself, however, spoke not a single word, but turned his horse’s head homewards, followed by Windsor.— With the King. 147 his courtiers, who discussed in whispers the nature of the event, some attributing it to an accident, and others to a miracle. On the way, Richard, who was riding alone, was joined by Master Walter Map, who seemed to be honestly grieved at his royal master’s misfortune. “Yonder flatterers and time-servers,” he said, indicating the dejected courtiers in advance of them, “resemble the rats which leave a house when it is about to fall, after they have themselves gnawed away its beams and undermined the ‘walls. Now, truly, to my mind, if there were any judgment to be discovered, it would be upon the King’s supineness, and not upon his impetuosity ; for the sin of swearing with him is but a habit of speech, and not a wanton profaneness.” “What mean you by that other offence?” asked Richard. “T mean this,” replied Map earnestly. “The King is so much engaged in the business of the chace, that the business of the kingdom goes all amiss. I mean not for want of care or attention on his part, who, as you know, is both assiduous and skilful in the dispatch of business; but because he neg- lects to observe how his courtiers carry out his instructions and fulfil the duties of their ministry. He is, in fact, like a man possessed of a beautiful mistress, who caresses him when he is with her, but wrongs him whilst he is absent from her side, with the first comer. So these courtiers protest to the King, and flatter him before his face. Then he, good man, rides forth to hawk or hunt ; they stay behind and fish in the muddy waters of the Court, where they take great spoil of large fish and small in their cunning nets. Presently the King returns, well content, and divides what he has taken among them ; they hold fast their own gains and keep silence. But the worst is, that they themselves are fully conscious of the King’s short-sightedness, and blame him openly for it, as we 148 Court Life under the Plantagenets. commonly find amongst flatterers, contempt for those whom they deceive.” “But truly, in so large a body,” urged Richard, “there must be some disorders which from time to time the King will discover and remedy ; and for the rest, is not this Court the seat of all learning and wisdom, the abode of riches and delights, and the very head of the body politic?” “Rather it is on account of these things,” replied Map, “ that the vices of the Court appear so foul to those who are also conscious of its virtues. For to such the Court will ever be instead of a Paradise a place of torment for all honest men, next unto hell itself. For there, too, are flames and scorpions, and weeping and gnashing of teeth ; not visible, indeed, but figured in the passions and disorders of men’s minds.” “ And who, then,” inquired Richard, “are these false minis- ters of whom you speak? for it seems to me a great marvel that such as are bold and skilful in the King’s service should yet betray him with others.” “Not so,” replied Map; “for look you, these men do but deceive themselves with the belief that their zeal for the King shall absolve them from injustice to their fellow-subjects. Formerly indeed those who executed the highest offices were they to whom the same of right belonged, whose duty and care it was, equally with the King, to protect the people given to them to govern. But in course of time these magnates were replaced by the King’s familiars, courtiers, and clerks, men indeed of the highest ability, but hirelings instead of shepherds of their flocks. Doubtless even yourself can re- member the time when these were content to endite writs and charters as clerks of the King’s Chapel, and to go ona journey, or to convey treasure to the Exchequer of Normandy, Windsor.—With the King. 149 or to overlook the King’s purveyance or the mending of his houses in return for a scanty fee at the Receipt. And now, through the Chapel or the household is the only sure advance- ment for any man, and to be noble and free at once is to be suspected and disqualified, in this new world of ours, for every office. See now who are more flattered and fawned upon than the King’s chamberlains, and also how many they be, and others without number, such as chaplains and men of the chamber, and clerks and serjeants of the same, and the knights of his private family, and keepers and castellans of his castles, and bailiffs of his honours and escheats, many of whom have engrossed the highest offices in the kingdom, being at once sheriffs of counties and justices of the Court and barons of the Exchequer, not for their skill in these matters, for as Master Richard, the son of Nigel, has truly said that of such it was written, ‘They walk in darkness, and grope with their hands, and often they stumble ;’ that ‘seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not under- stand.’ But they are thus advanced because our King would sooner trust a turnspit from the kitchen than a baron who can gather kindred and men round him in a strong castle.” “But hath, he not reason,” asked Richard, “having once experienced the treason and turbulence of these great ones, to trust them no further than he may control them ?” “This is so indeed in appearance,” replied Map, “but not in fact, if the truth of that affair were known ; and, moreover, one wrong by no means justifies another.” “Do you believe, then,” said Richard, “that the kingdom was formerly divided in civil war between the courtiers of whom you speak, and the great barons, for these causes? ” “Truly I say,” rejoined Map, “and that on the one side was tyranny and wrong, and on the other freedom and right ; and again, 150 Court Life under the Plantagenets. though, as I said before, I do not wholly blame our King in these matters, but rather those who flatter and deceive him and oppress his people behind his back. For think you that the King’s wife and his noble son, and the Earls of Leicester and of Chester, and many others, who secretly took part with them, were robbers of the people and enemies of the kingdom, as many would assert? Rather was it that they loved the people and the Church, though they erred in joining them- selves with the King’s foreign enemies and disturbers of the peace, and in making war upon him instead of seeking to reform the abuses of the times by example and precept. Wherefore the commonalty of the kingdom took the side of the King as against Scots and Flemings, though both then and now they groan beneath the burdens of these ministers and justices and sheriffs. And I myself have heard Richard de Luci, and others of the King’s family, speak openly against the English race as not to be trusted, and advance the claim of Normans and French to possess freely the land that they had conquered. But enough of this, lest you should think that Iam one of those who would appear clean themselves by defiling others. Therefore I will instead describe to you the plan of the King’s great labyrinth at Woodstock, which Ivo, the engineer, devised as an arbour for the fairest rose in the world.” With such light talk as this, Map beguiled the remainder of the road, and moreover insisted that Richard should sit beside him at the royal banquet by favour of the marshal. On the next day, being the second Sunday after Easter, there was a council held in the open fields in front of the palace, attended by the whole feudal muster of tenants-in-chief already summoned to meet the King on this day for service in his wars against France. The proceedings were here Wrindsor.—With the King. 151 informal, as the King appeared on horseback and armed at all points, being evidently more intent upon reviewing the state of his barons’ preparations, than of listening to their sagest counsels upon affairs of state. However, by a stroke of policy, he had decided to announce the restitution of all the remaining castles throughout England, which were re- sumed after the late rebellion. Richard seized this favourable opportunity for advancing his own suit through the mediation of his kinsman, Ranulph de Glanvill, but was unable for the present to obtain a satisfactory assurance. Indeed it was not likely, as De Glan- vill pointed out to him, that while the castles of such an approved royalist as Richard de Luci were demolished for strategic purposes, and a heavy perquisition laid upon the Treasurer's own lands of Essendon for the necessities of the State, that a lesser baron like himself should be ex- empted without strong cause. In short, De Glanvill advised him to confine his suit to obtaining a remission of the fifty marks which he still owed in respect of the marriage of his daughter, together with a smaller amerciament for an assart discovered by the inquests lately taken in his county, as in the rest of England, before the king’s justices. This sacrifice, however, he was reluctant to make, not from any feudal importance which might be attached to the possession of a ruinous fortress, but for the cherished associations of the home of his boyhood, and a secret sense of injustice suf- fered from this indignity in the face of the oft-tried loyalty of his family and kindred. Thus matters would have to remain as they were, and as the fatal warrant was not yet issued, there was still the hope that, thanks to the diversion of foreign war, his humble castle might be passed over, and thus escape the fate of the strong 152 Court Life under the Plantagenets. town of Benington, which he had lately heard of as having been attacked by an army of workmen with steel pickaxes, under the direction of a royal overseer. For the present, therefore, in spite of this discouraging reception, Richard re- solved to follow the Court in the hope of profiting by some fortunate adventure. The next day the King set out at daybreak towards Oxford, where he had appointed to meet the lords of Lacy in order to invest them in their Irish fiefs. Richard, who had joined himself to the lord of Glanvill’s party, was agree- ably surprised to find included in it his old friend Jordan Fantosme, lately arrived from Winchester to advance a suit concerning the privileges of his flourishing school. This remarkable man, half poet and half courtier, was an Italian by birth and well. versed in the civil law. He had once been settled in the town of Hertford, and before that had been attached to the family of Glanvill, where he had become acquainted with Richard de Anesti, whom he had materially assisted, as we have seen, in his great suit to recover the lands of William de Sackville his uncle. As a vaconteur of chivalrous adventures, or a troubadour, Fantosme was unrivalled in that day, and by the unanimous petition of his travelling companions he was persuaded to enliven the tedium of the journey by a recitation based upon one of those incidents of the late war which were of ever present interest to most of his listeners. The burden of his narrative, couched in the romantic dialect of the langue d’oil, was very much as follows: “Hear a true history, my friends, of the best king that ever lived. Remember you not that after the coronation of his son, he withdrew from the crowned youth something of his lordship, whence deadly envy arose, whereby many a gentle Windsor.—With the King. 153 knight lost his life, many a saddle was emptied, many a good shield pierced, many a hauberk broken. As soon as the young king was unable to fulfil his desires, he fled away secretly, passed a ford of the Loire, and neither ate nor drank until he reached St. Denis. There he was received joyously by the King of France, and thither they sent for him of Flanders, Philip the warrior, and Matthew of Boulogne, and many more besides. “At Easter-tide was the French host summoned, and they rode to the borders with banners furled, and many a shield lined white, red, and grey. King Henry, undismayed, rode against them in haste, In his company were ten thousand Brabangons, and many a gentle knight, Angevin and Gascon. God aided him much that day, and the helpers of his son were quickly routed. On Matthew the fighter came the lance, the red blood trickled to his golden spurs. But for all that the French and Flemings still made war on him, with the barons of Brittany, and Hugo, Earl of Chester. But soon, at Dol, in Brittany, the barons were made to withdraw within their castles ! Neither mangonel nor arbalist served to defend them. The French were frightened at the dread tidings, the heart of the hardiest trembled and wavered, But King Louis wrote a letter to the King of Scotland, and his mes- Fig. 31. sengers bore it over forests and rivers, Hereby the young king sent a loving message, stirring up his vassal to fight against his father, promising to give him the 154 Court Life under the Plantagenets. border land of England. Never was a king promised so great a victory as this one was promised ; but all was vain-glory. “Now has the King of Scotland made ready his host, with banners and steel brands and sharp spears, a thousand armed knights and thirty thousand naked followers, with Flemings from France, able to besiege castles. Never came such a host from Scotland since the time of Elias. “Then came King William to Wark, in England, a castle in the marches, Roger d’Estutevill its castellan, who asked the space of forty days to see if help should come to him. Thence he went towards Alnwick, against William de Vesci, and made the same covenant with him as with the constable of Wark. And thence he came to Warkworth, that was all defenceless ; and thence to Newcastle-on-Tyne, but he could not take it; and last of all to Carlisle, and assaulted the castle. And there news was brought to him by a wandering canon that the southern knights, with Richard de Luci, would be upon him at sunrise ; wherefore he went to Roxburgh. “Now the host of England was come into Northumberland, when messengers came after them, breathless, with these tidings: how that the Earl of Leicester, with Frenchmen and Flemings, and with men of Friesland, was come into Eng- land. Then did Richard de Luci like a man of sense. He hid from the King of Scotland this new injury, and gained a truce for Northumberland until the summer. Then he turned back with his gentle knights, uttering this pleasantry : ‘Let us make acquaintance with the Flemings.’ “You have all heard it oft, both great and small, how the lord of Luci overthrew the Flemings. They came over here after the wool of England. Never more will they cry ‘ Arras’ in their own cities. There was not in the country a clown or a villein who did not go kill Flemings with fork and flail. Windsor.—With the King. 155 The armed knights then intermeddled with nothing—except the knocking down; the villeins did the killing. Then you might see Flemings fleeing through the meadows, with their head-pieces broken and their bowels trailing. Their bodies by hundreds were tumbled into the ditches, upon their car. cases the crows and buzzards gathered. Never had England such a riddance of strangers, “It was in May, when grass has grown greenest, that David of Scotland came into England to secure his burgh of Hun- tingdon, and to succour Leicester. Then, too, King William returned towards Northumberland. “ Ah, God! why did not the King of England know of it, that the unhappy people had then been warned of it, who were sleeping .in their beds, thinking no evil. It was still morning, before the dawn grew bright, that the Y vile race, the Welsh, who X A long for booty, and the <> Scots of Albany, burst into the country, who have no faith in Jesus the Son of Mary. Some break open monasteries, and slay the nuns and canons, some fire the houses, some seize the sheep in the fold. They have not left in the country Fic. 32. an ox to the plough. Then you might see peasants, naked women and children, bound in cords and led like heathen men. ‘The King of Scotland again has assailed Wark, but he is i 156 Court Life nnder the Plantagenets. unable to take it; Roger d’Estutevill is his match. So he departs towards Carlisle, the beautiful city. The sun lights up the walls and turrets. Robert de Vaux is the castellan ; he does not fear thema berry. But unless help comes to him he must needs surrender. So he sends a messenger to Richard de Luci; how that William has taken Brough and Appleby, and the Scots run everywhere like demons. Richard de Luci has written a letter; the Bishop of Win- chester will bear it to King Henry. He took ship at South- hampton; I myself went with him. On the third day we found the King at Bonneville. The bishop saluted him thus: ‘May you have salvation from God. England greets you as her protector. Sire, hear now the truth; beside Richard de Luci, there are not ten barons in England who stand by you.’ “Then said the King, ‘What is Richard doing—De Luci the loyal, and the Earl of Arundel and Humphrey de Bohun, —how are they behaving?’ “<¢Sire, by my faith, they are your well-wishers ; in all your need they are first and foremost.” “The barons of Yorkshire, how have they acted; and they of Estutevill, do they hold their castles ?’ “« Truly, sire, from Estutevill never yet came treason.’ “¢ And the elect of Lincoln, can he not assist them ?’ “* He is, in truth, sire, of your noble blood.’ “«What has happened, then, that you are hiding from me ; tell me the truth now about my northern land. Ranulph de Glanvill, is he at Richmond? and Robert de Vaux, what are these two doing?’ “Thereupon the bishop heaved a deep sigh, and the King said unto him, ‘Why these sighs? Has Robert yielded Carlisle? Speak nothing but the truth,’ “* Nay, but he holds it nobly, like a noble baron. The Windsor.—With the King. 157 King of Scotland came riding by Carlisle; he threatened the lord Robert de Vaux most fiercely, demanded of him the castle, saying that he would make him rich; or if not, they should starve, both small and great.’ “* By my faith!’ said the King, ‘here are good conditions.’ “* And moreover, Sire, Brough is taken, and Appleby, and all Northumberland is devastated. Odinel de Umfravill, in Prudhoe, is beleagured; Newcastle is threatened, and the fiefs of William de Vesci.’ “And what, friend, is the Bishop of Durham doing ?’ “Alas! sire, he is all one with King William.’ “<«St. Thomas,’ said the King, ‘guard my kingdom for me! But, fair lord, tell me once more the truth, how are the brave men of my city of London acting ?’ “*So may the Lord God who rules in Trinity help me; they are the most loyal people of all your kingdom. Only Gilbert de Munfichet has fortified his castle, and gives out that the Clares are leagued together with him.’ “The King shed tears. ‘Oh, God!’ he said, ‘have pity, preserve the brave men of my city of London. Depart, lord bishop, to your country. If God give me health, and I be alive, you will have me in London before fifteen days are past, and I will take vengeance on all my enemies,’ “Then we returned to England, to Richard de Luci, who eagerly inquired news of the king. “*My lord, said the bishop, ‘he is a worthy King. He does not care a berry for his enemies. You will see him in London fifteen days hence.’ “Then did Richard de Luci rejoice greatly, and sent word to De Vaux not to be afraid. When Robert up there in his tower heard that, he was never more rejoiced on any day. “Now King William went straight toward Prudhoe; he 158 Court Life under the Plantagenets wished to surprise Odinel de Umfravill. But Odinel had the castle well garrisoned; he valued not their siege the value of a berry. “Great was the host of Scotland, and the noise and the cry of the Flemings and Borderers who assailed the castle. Some scale the chevaux de frise, some fill up the ditches. Those who were within did not forget themselves. Then you might see bucklers and helmets broken ; wounded Flemings carried from the chevaux de frise. There was never a better defence within these two countries. The swords re- sound, and the steel crashes. Scarcely a hauberk or helmet remained whole. That day the garrison were knights, no coward would have been of any use there. At the barbican were many blood-stained knights; with their swords they made holes in many a shield. The assault lasted long but effected little. Certainly King William ceased not to lose. When he saw his serjeants die and gain no vantage, he was grieved at heart, and said in his distress, ‘Send for the arbalist quickly to the stockade. It will soon break the gate if the engineer lie not.’ “ Hlear, sirs, of the arbalist, how it fared. The first stone it ever cast at them, it struck one of their own knights to the earth. Then uttered King William this pleasantry, ‘Indeed this engine appears to be very costly.’ When the arbalist Windsor.—With the King. 159 failed him, he caused fires to be brought. He wished to burn the castle; but the wind was contrary. They within lost not a silver penny’s worth, but their fields they have lost, with their corn and cattle; their very fruit-trees barked. It was a mean revenge. “Three days the siege lasted, and on the third Odinel went off on maned Beaucant, to seek assistance. So far he has travelled on good brown Beaucant, spurring continu- ally, day and night, that he has collected good valiant helpers—four hundred knights with their shining helms,— who will succour Prudhoe with their sharp swords. There rides William d’Estutevill, and Ranulph de Glanvill, Lord Bernard de Balliol, and William de Vesci. The Archbishop of York gave them sixty knights. To Newcastle-upon-Tyne at dead of night came Odinel, who leads and guides them. There they heard news of the King of Albany, who was gone to Alnwick with a chosen following. There in the morning, at dawn of day, they went into a wood, and sent out their spies. “Five hundred knights were with the King of Scotland, who all kept saying to him, ‘ Believe not cowards ; yours is Northumberland, whoever may laugh or weep for it’ Be- cause of the heat, the king took off his helmet ; he said to his knights, ‘ My lords, let us dine.’ Said Ranulph de Glanvill, ‘Now take your arms quickly.” They mount their horses and 160 Court Life under the Plantagenets. shout their war cries. Then knew King William that he was betrayed. He was immediately taken; with my two eyes I saw it, as between his legs his horse lay upon him. Lord Roger de Mowbray, a very valiant baron, and lord Adam de Port, they go spurring away. Certainly, if they had not ridden so fast, they might that day have lost everything. The boldest of the king’s knights they take with him. England is at peace, the war is ended. “ That same day King Henry was in England, and first he went to the martyr St. Thomas, where he confessed himself quite sinful and wretched. Thence he went to London, where he had desire to see his city and his good people. When they heard the news that he should come to London, every- one dressed himself richly in his best ; nor was there any that had not an ambling palfrey, and they went out of the city in along procession. He must really be a king who has such subjects. You might well have gone a league’s distance, so long lasted the embracing of the King and his people. Thus they accompanied the King as far as Westminster, making rejoicings at the coming of their lord. But he was pensive and greatly distracted because his northern land was laid waste, day and night. When night fell the King had entered his chamber. He was leaning on his elbow, and slept a little. A servant at his feet was gently rubbing them. There was neither noise, nor cry, nor any speaking, neither harp nor viol, nor other music at that hour. To the palace a mes- senger came; for three days had he ridden, for three days he had not drunk, nor eaten, nor slept. At the chamber door the messenger called gently. “And says the chamberlain, ‘ Who are you there ?’ ““Tama messenger, friend. Lord Ranulph de Glanvill sent me in order to speak with the King, for great need he has of it.’ Windsor.—With the King. 161 “And says the chamberlain, ‘Let the business be till © morning.’ ““By my faith!’ said the messenger, ‘I will speak to him, forthwith,’ | “ And says the chamberlain, ‘I should not dare to do it.’ “Whilst they are speaking, the King has awakened, and he hears one crying at the door, ‘Opem! open !’ “*Tt is a messenger from the north, sire; a man of Ranulph de Glanvill’s.’ “« By my faith!’ said the King, ‘now am I very uneasy. He is in need of aid. Let him come in here.’ “«Sire king, may God who dwells in Trinity save you.’ “* Friend, said the King, ‘what news do you bring? Has the King of Scotland taken all my castles? Have all my barons and liegemen been slain ?’ “Sire, said the messenger, ‘hear me a little what my lord bids me say. You do wrong to torment yourself. The King of Scotland is taken, and all his barons.’ “And says King Henry: ‘Do you speak the truth? Is the King of Scotland taken? Tell me thetruth!’ “Ves, sire ; by my faith, all will be confirmed.’ “Then says King Henry, ‘God be thanked for it, and St. Thomas the Martyr, and all the saints of God!’ “Thereupon the messenger goes to his hostel. He has abundance to eat and drink. And the King is so merry and joyful that night, that he goes to the knights and wakes them all up. ‘ Barons, wake up, I have heard what will make you glad. The King of Scotland is taken; so it is told me for truth’ | “ And the knights say, ‘Now thank the Lord God for it; now is the war ended, and your kingdom in peace.’” At the conclusion of this lay, Jordan de Fantosme was M 162 Court Life under the Plantagenets. loudly applauded by his hearers, who commenced an inter- minable discussion amongst themselves, based on personal exploits or reminiscences of the war. In such animated con- versation the journey was pleasantly accomplished, when late in the evening of the second day after their departure from Windsor, they saw the grey towers of the fair city of Oxford looming against the purple western sky. CHAPTER XI. WALTHAM.—SECULARS AND REGULARS. THE King’s visit to Oxford was signalized by a great council for the settlement of Irish affairs, and here, as had long been expected, Prince John was constituted king, or rather lord, of Ireland, with intent to strengthen the influence of the Crown there as much against the too successful and ambitious baronial adventurers, as against the now thoroughly dispirited native princes. It was therefore a characteristic feature of Henry’s policy, that he at this time bestowed upon certain nobles of his household several of the chief baronies of the new kingdom, besides entrusting others to barons who, like the Lacies, had been recently admitted to pardon upon a guarantee of future good behaviour. The success of the ceremony was enhanced by the presence of some of the principal Welsh princes, with their wild but picturesque following of white-robed captains and native bards of matchless skill in the expression of their national aspirations, added to which the attractiveness of the venerable city—now fast recovering from the ravages of the Conquest—and of its surroundings at this season of the year, rendered Richard de Anesti’s sojourn a remarkably pleasant one. : From Oxford the King proceeded before long to the in- auguration of the first of his religious foundations—the fruits of his recent pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Thomas. The Convent of Amesbury had long enjoyed an unenviable 1 163 164 Court Life under the Plantagenets. notoriety through the wit, beauty, and gallantries of its abbess and the daughters of noble families whom she had gathered round her. It was also whispered that these fair recluses had intermeddled with other worldly matters connected with the disagreement between the King and his imperious consort. Already in the preceding spring, after the great council held at Northampton, two bishops, acting as royal commissioners, had visited the nunnery to effect a resumption of the founda- tion into the King’s hands; and now the King himself, accom- panied by the primate and an imposing train of bishops, went thither to assist in person at the deposition of the abbess and suspected nuns, and the installation of a new abbess and convent drafted from the exemplary house of Font Evrault, whose arrival at Southampton had already been notified. Richard was present at these somewhat undignified proceed- ings, which however only formed a part of the King’s project of dissolution ; for simultaneously with the first visitation of this nunnery, the King had required the surrender of the college of secular canons at Waltham, upon an equally vague charge of irregular living ; though here too it was suggested that the worthy canons had incurred more displeasure through their devotion to their hereditary patroness, the Queen, than through the neglect of ecclesiastical discipline. But what- ever point might be given to the scandal by the King’s present relations with the Church in the matter of his divorce, Richard, who had already discussed the whole affair with the Treasurer, was well aware of the real motive for the King’s present action. This was nothing less than want of funds to provide for a new foundation in fulfilment of his recent vow to St. Thomas the Martyr; and therefore the son of Nigel had maintained that the King was justified, on the eve of foreign war, in appropriating two religious foundations, being Waltham.—-Seculars and Regulars. 165 the actual property of the Crown, to satisfy the demands of national piety and to further the supposed interests of the Church at large by a reformation of alleged abuses. This opinion, whether correct or not, was at least a disinterested one, since the Treasurer himself, as a canon of St. Paul’s, had naturally a strong bond of sympathy with the ejected fellows. From Amesbury the Court removed to Winchester, where the final muster of the feudal army was held, only to be once more adjourned for a month, to await the result of the embassy which the King had determined to despatch to the French coast in a last endeavour to procure a peaceful solu- tion of the quarrel with his suzerain. Here,® too, Richard bade farewell to the learned Abbot of Peterboro’, who, being now consecrated, had departed to enter upon his new prefer- ment, taking with him the manuscripts of the Liber Trico- lumnus, the Liber Curialis,and other precious works, to be copied in the scriptorium of that clerkly monastery. After a flying visit to London, the King repaired to Marl- borough for-a few days’ rest. On the Friday before Pente- cost, the Court was once more at Westminster, whence the King purposed to make his personal visitation of Waltham Abbey, taking with him a body of new canons drawn from certain religious houses which professed the severer rule of St. Augustine. On the following morning, before sunrise, the King set out for Waltham with a brilliant train of churchmen and courtiers. Richard de Anesti rode amongst the latter with a light heart, for his face was now turned towards his native county, and every feature of the landscape through which he rode in the fresh sunshine of a perfect June morn- ing was a familiar landmark. At the hour of Prime the party reached the little town of Waltham, and halted before the canons’ houses, picturesquely , 166 Court Life under the Plantagenets. situated in the green meadows hard by the Church. Here, thanks to the care of the lately resigned dean, himself an experienced purveyor of the Crown, they found ample ac- commodation provided for their horses and followers, and, after breaking their fast in the dean’s house, the King proceeded to the Chapter House of the Church, in company with the bishops and his principal courtiers, to arrange the terms of compensation for the outgoing incumbents, and to witness the induction of their successors. Richard took this opportunity to visit the famous church founded by Tovi more than two centuries before, and rebuilt by his master on a scale, it was said, intended to rival the Confessor’s Norman church of Westminster itself. If this were true, the design had not been carried out, but the failure had been compensated for by the amazing richness of the interior decoration, the pillars having carved bases and capitals of extreme beauty, and the shafts being overlaid with gilded plates which shone like pure gold. Numerous shrines of exquisite workmanship contained the relics for which this Church was famous. But the chief object of interest was the great altar at the east end of the chancel, of which the fore part was supported by the figures of the twelve apostles, and the hinder part by twelve lions, all of the most costly materials and workmanship. The body of the altar was of | solid gold, having a marble slab in the centre. The vessels and candlesticks were also of pure gold. As Richard approached the shrine which contained the Holy Cross, he saw a venerable canon prostrated before it in'an attitude of the deepest dejection. This person rose presently, and was about to pass by him with a gentle bene- diction, when Richard accosted him with a courteous inquiry for Athelard the Canon, to whom he had been recommended 991 obey cory of _ SSVW. IV ONIN LENTOVINVId “SLOG OF setsvowey doy Waltham.—Seculars and Regulars. 167 by his friend the Treasurer as a person of great learning and piety. To this the canon replied, he was that Athelard, and on receiving the son of Nigel’s greeting, expressed his readi- ness to pleasure the, lord of Anesti in anything that lay within his power; “for I see,” he added, “that you are not like the rest of Master Wido’s court friends, for whose sake he has betrayed those who were committed to his charge, not only by the King but also by God.” These words, which were spoken by Athelard without any bitterness of tone but with a voice of profound melancholy, moved Richard to ask the good canon how the misfortune which had fallen upon his house had been deserved. Whereupon the other began the following narrative, the course of which was frequently interrupted by sighs and mournful ejaculations. This Church and College, he said, was a fitting memo- rial of the simple piety of Harold, son of Godwin, who, though a Dane by blood, showed himself by his acts more English than those degenerate Saxons who craved the rule and religion of the foreigner. And because of this, the family of Godwin was reviled by the courtiers and the Roman clergy, and all whom that family befriended were also per- secuted, and had been ever since, by those of Norman blood, from that day to this, Now Harold, who loved the people, desired that the priests and ministers of the people should be such as might guide and encourage them in all good works, both for this world and the next; and because he perceived that the religion of the regular clergy was vanity, and that their lewdness and covetousness was great, he endeavoured rather to multiply the number of secular priests, born of the people, and marrying with them, and eating and drinking and labouring amongst them, and speaking and fighting and praying for them. Therefore, when King 168 Court Life under the Plantagenets. Edward gave to him this town of Waltham and all the land, he both built such a church as the Frenchmen should not sneer at, and endowed it abundantly, that the priests might be able to give of their abundance to others and to succour the poor and needy. But he would have no rule of obedience there, save statutes like those by which the holy canons of Germany were governed; nor any common habit of living, such as sleeping and eating together,and walking and writing, and talking and idling in cloisters, but each priest had his separate household, his wife and children and servants be- neath his own roof, and his own cattle and plough-teams, if he chose to cultivate the land himself, though of late ryears, from the increasing population of the town and the occupation of prayer and attendance in the church, those lands were let to farm to worthy husbandmen, who paid for the same in a fixed tribute of corn and malt and flesh. Yet each canon enjoyed a prebend which gave its name to his stall; and each prebend was assessed according to its means to provide in turn the doles and pittances of the whole College for so many weeks together, namely, three loaves of bread and six dishes of meat, and six bowls of beer daily to each canon and his household, and pittances of game and fowl, and wine, on festival days. For present expenses each canon received forty shillings yearly out of the tithes of Waltham and the offerings to the church, and forty shillings more for his dress. The College consisted ofa dean and twelve canons, from whom were chosen a chancellor and a treasurer, and a sacristan, and the master of the schools, who was the most important person of them all. But wild days were in store for the church after the Con- quest of England by the Normans, when those who had recovered their benefactor’s body, and bathed it with their Waltham.—Seculars and Regulars. 169 tears, and buried it with great honour, and remained always faithful to his memory and his wishes, were hardly dealt with and oppressed by the Frenchmen and the monks. And at first the town and church were given to the warlike Bishop _ of Durham, who taxed them to build his castle; but after- wards Matilda, wife of King Henry, was their benefactress, and restored their lands; and after her came the virtuous lady Adelicia ; and next the Empress, mother of the present king ; and after that his wife, Queen Eleanor. Athelard himself had witnessed the good works of the last three of these noble ladies, for soon after the death of Queen Matilda he had entered the school when five years old, be- coming a chorister, and attaining to the successive degrees of sub-deacon, deacon, and priest or canon. Thus he had been in a manner born and bred in the church, and had thought to end his days there. But lately, from no fault of their own, the King had resumed the church into’ his own hand, with intent to change it into a monastery, to the utter dishonour of their founder’s memory and to their own un- doing. The author of this mischief, Athelard firmly believed, was Wido the Dean. This man had been their evil genius for nearly twenty years. He was a crafty and self-seeking man, who had crept into office by his obsequiousness and also by his zeal and intelligence in the royal service. As the King’s bailiff of Waltham, he had displayed abilities which led to his employment in larger enterprises. He had even sat at the Exchequer, and none was so skilful as he in the purveyance of victuals for an expedition, or in the negociation of a loan. His private life was notoriously scandalous, and he had been suspended some years since on that account by the primate himself. In order to recovér his position, he had not scrupled 170 Court Life under the Plantagenets. to betray the interests of his church, and lend himself asa tool to effect the present dissolution of the house. Moreover, two of his brothers were the King’s chamberlains, and by their interest and his own previous services, he had obtained the promise of a rich manor in compensation for his deanery. After listening to the good canon’s pitiful story, and to his numerous reminiscences of the history of the church in the past, Richard returned to the Chapter House, where he found that the King, having completed the business that he had in. hand, by pensioning those of the canons who could be in- duced to vacate their stalls, and giving a grudging consent to the life tenancy of those who were obstinate in their refusal to quit, and satisfying the ex-dean with a suitable grant of land, and inducting on the spot the new canons, and en- throning the first prior of the new foundation, the abbot, a foreigner, not being yet arrived, was about to return to the canons’ houses to dinner before setting out on the journey back to Westminster, where he was to keep the feast of Pentecost. Richard had previously determined to hold on his way to St. Alban’s, on a mission which he had undertaken on behalf of his friend the Treasurer, instead of following the Court back again to London. Therefore, as soon as he had taken leave of his friends, and seen them fairly started on their homeward journey, he set forth himself in the opposite direction in order that he might make the town of St. Alban’s before nightfall. In this he was successful, in spite of being set upon by thieves, from whom he escaped through the swiftness of his horse, leaving a good palfrey and several changes of raiment in their hands. The town of St. Alban’s was one of the fairest to behold in all England, being pleasantly situated upon a gentle eminence Waltham.—Seculars and Regulars. 171 overlooking a wide expanse of rich meadows, through which a silvery stream meandered, a favourite harbourage both of fish and waterfowl; while in contrast to the flourishing churches and substantial houses of the burgesses, the ruins of the ancient Roman city, once the centre of arts and civiliza- tion in the eastern counties, lay within the moss-grown ditch and rampart commanding the great highway. The famous monastery and church stood upon the extreme edge of the western slope, and hard by was the great market place, of which the townspeople were almost as proud as of the church itself, to which on market days came chapmen from Luton and Dunstable, and husbandmen and their wives from all the country round. : No sooner had Richard entered the town than he was aware of a strange air of suppressed excitement that pervaded the whole population. At every street corner was assembled a thick cluster of burghers, and before every other doorway a smaller knot of women, all discussing some unwonted event with hushed voices, or listening with eager faces to the narrative which a few better informed than the rest were relating with much gesticulation. Passing on to the hostelry where he purposed to lodge that night, Richard took the occasion to inquire of the host the meaning of this unwonted movement in the town, who, nothing loth, proceeded to instruct his guest with the following tale. It had happened, he said, during the previous night, or rather about daybreak of that very day, that a certain burgess of the town, by name Robert the Mercer, a person greatly respected for his honesty, piety, and sober living, being asleep in his bed, was awakened by a vision of one clothed in white, whose face shone as the face of an angel, standing beside him. At the sight of this angelic presence, 172 Court Life under the Plantagenets. which illuminated the whole chamber and filled it with a rare and sweet perfume, Robert lay quite still, being unwilling to dispel the trance into which he supposed that he had fallen. Whereupon his visitor, in a low rich voice, which vibrated in the air like the strains of sweet music, called him by his name, bidding him to be of good courage, and saying that he was St. Alban, and that he had come to announce his master’s bidding, that he should straightway rise and follow him to the place where his master’s body lay. Robert hastened to obey, and, preceded by the Saint, he passed out of the door of his house into the street, marvelling greatly at the miracle that had been revealed to him. As he walked beside his ghostly companion in the grey light of the morning, Robert observed that he appeared to be like any other man, save for the great nobility of his features and the rapt ex- pression of his eyes and lips, which seemed to be gazing on and conversing with some distant object. Growing bolder by degrees, Robert entered upon a discourse concerning the city and its ancient lore, to know if haply the Saint would reveal to him some holy mystery of the saints and their martyrdom, or perchance, the host opined, to discover some hoard of treasure buried in the earth. But to all that Robert said, the other answered only briefly or by signs. By this time they . were come outside the new town, and so along the great road leading towards Redbourne. And once Robert recalled that they turned aside out of the road to avoid a company of merchants coming from Dunstable to the town, it being market day. At length they came to a pleasant plain, where a road passes through a common shaded with thorn trees, and here there are two hillocks raised, which men say were once the burial places of the Britons, but which now are called the Waltham.—Seculars and Regulars. 173 hills of the Standards, because around these the people meet from all the country side to wend in procession with their banners to the Church of St. Alban on the festival of the blessed martyr. Here then the Saint paused before one of the hillocks, and signing with his staff upon the turf, it opened in the form of a cross, revealing a sepulchre within, and a shrine, or sarcophagus, from which a dazzling light pro- ceeded, which lit up the whole western landscape as with the beams of the rising sun. “Behold,” said the Saint, “the relics _ of my master, the holy Amphibalus, and his fellow martyrs.” With these words he again signed as before, and the earth closed up and remained as it had been formerly. But Robert, by the Saint’s directions, gathered stones and ‘piled them together upon the place where the fissure had been, and having done this, they returned as they had come, until they arrived over against the church, where the Saint parted from him, and entering swiftly into the church was no more seen by him. After which Robert sought his bed, and falling asleep, dreamed of all he had seen, just as it had befallen him, And in the morning he related the vision and the miracle that he had seen, and the invention of the bodies of the blessed martyrs. And in fine, the father abbot, nothing doubt- ing that these holy relics should be recovered by the church, to which of right they appertained, had set a guard over the sepulchre, and purposed that the same should be opened and the bodies discovered on the festival of the blessed Martyr St. Alban, which would be celebrated on the Friday following. The host further added that the whole town and country was so transported with wonder and joy at this fortunate event, that although that day was the market, there had not been bought or sold so much as a bushel of grain or hundred of eggs. 174 Court Life under the Plantagenets. Deeply impressed with the relation of this miracle, Richard sought his couch, mentally resolving that he would now prolong his sojourn in the city until after the day appointed for the translation of the holy martyr’s remains. On the following morning he heard matins at the abbey church, after which he entered the monastery precincts by the northern gate, and having disclosed the nature of his business, he was escorted by a serjeant across the courtyard to the forensic parlour, where he remained whilst the prior was apprized of his attendance. : The latter presently appeared and referred him in turn to the monastic officer to whose chequer the tithes of Essendon and Beyford were appropriated; and since his name and condition, and those of Richard the King’s Treasurer, were well-known and esteemed here, besides that one of his family had formerly rendered the house some service in respect of the tenure of the farm of Wycombe, Richard received a very courteous and pressing invitation to take up his abode as a guest of the monastery until his business was concluded, which he gladly accepted. Having next delivered himself of his mission to the proper officer, and receiving an intimation that the matter would be duly considered, and after conveying his baggage to the chamber assigned to him within the hostry, an ancient build- ing partially restored and containing a common ‘room or parlour, wainscoated, and beautified with a painted ceiling, Richard was free to explore the conventual precincts as far as the restrictions which etiquette imposed upon strangers permitted. That is to say, he was able to walk for exercise in the prior’s cloisters, and abbot’s cloisters, with the gardens adjoining to them, and the several chapels there, and the church itself, which could be entered from the infirmary Waltham.—Seculars and Regulars. 175 garden. But of far greater interest to him were the courts and offices of the several obedientaries, and the workshops in which, according to the Benedictine rule, the lay brethren laboured in supplying the garments, boots, furniture, and even to some extent the material and ornaments of the church and monastery ; while in the outer courts there were the stables, granaries, and laundry to be visited. The inner life of the monastery was distinguished from the forensic or domestic occupations of the official brethren by the unbroken routine of prayer and meditation, or by reading and writing in the shady recesses of the windows, while some, who appeared to be novices and choristers, studied and prac- tised themselves apart from the rest under the direction of their masters. At certain periods assigned for recreation, all these would disperse over the flowering turf of the cloister garth, or, in the early morning, at midday, and in the evening, they would cluster round the lavatory in its centre; while at the sound of the bell or of the clapper, the dark-robed figures would file in slow procession out of the cloisters, according as they were summoned to attend the choir, the infirmary, or the cimitery, the refectory, the chapter, or the dormitory. Indeed, the days and nights in the monastery were so regularly portioned out between the canonical hours, the observance of the monastic rule, and the necessary intervals for refresh- ment, recreation and sleep, that to Richard himself the pro- gress of time seemed scarcely to be marked by these swiftly- repeated signals ; for hardly had the matins bell roused the community from its first sleep, and the lights flitting for a short space through the dormitory and church been extin- guished, than the crowing of cocks, the bleating of sheep, and lowing of kine impatient to be released from the fold heralded the breaking of the day; and soon the noise of hammer and 176 Court Life under the Plantagenets. saw, and the tread of hurrying footsteps, and the sound of the bell for matins-mass announced that the daily occupation of work and prayer had been resumed. Then scarcely had ‘ the less abstemious members broken their fast with a loaf