In these matters, and in all the things which he did and determined, he trusted fully in the help of God and his own good sense, holding it to be shameful to rely upon the counsel of another, and thinking he was sufficient unto himself. The monks marvelled and the knights were angered; they blamed his pride, and often defamed him at the court of the king, saying that he would not act in accordance with the advice of his 10 he received our manors of Bradfield and freemen. He himself put away from his privy council all the great men of the abbey, both lay and literate, men without whose advice and assistance it seemed impossible that the abbey could be ruled. For this rea- 15 son Ranulf de Glanville, justiciar of England, was at first offended with him, and was less well-disposed towards him than was expedient, until he knew well from definite proofs that the abbot acted providently and pru- 20 wiser than those who had previously held dently, both in domestic and in external affairs. And whenever any important guest arrived, he used to sit with his monks in some retired grove, and watch the coursing for a while; but I never saw him interested in hunting. 5 He made many clearings and brought land into cultivation, in everything regarding the advantage of the abbacy. But would that he had watched with equal care over the grants of the manors of the monastery. For HOW THE ABBOT DEALT WITH THE Rougham for a while into his own hand, making good the loss of rent by the expenditure of forty pounds, which he afterwards handed over to us when he heard that the monastery murmured because he held our manors in his own hands. For the management of the same manors and for the management of all other affairs, he appointed monks and laymen who were the posts, and who made careful provision for us and our lands. Then he received eight hundreds into his own hands, and when Robert de Cokefield 25 died, he took the hundred of Cosford. All these he handed over to the care of the servants of his own table. Matters of greater moment were kept for his own decision, and those which were of less import were decided advantage. When homage had been received, the abbot demanded an aid from the knights, and they promised twenty shillings from each fee of a knight. But they at once took 30 by his agents; all things he turned to his counsel, and reduced the aid by twelve pounds from twelve knights, alleging that these twelve ought to assist the other forty to keep ward, and to make scutages, and also in assisting the abbey. When the abbot 35 heard this, he was wroth, and said to his friends that should his life be spared, he would repay them like for like, and injury for injury. By his command, a general account was drawn up for every hundred of the leets and suits, of the hidages and customary supplies of fodder, of the hens which ought to be paid to him, and of all the other customary dues, revenues, and expenses, which the tenants had always concealed to a great extent. All these things he reduced to writing, After this, the abbot caused inquest to 40 so that within four years of his election, no be made in every manor belonging to the abbacy as to the annual revenues of the free men, and the names of the villeins, and their holdings, and the services due from each, and caused all these details to be 45 written down. Then he restored the old halls and ruined houses, through which kites and crows flew; he built new chapels, and rooms and seats in many places where there had never been buildings, save perhaps 50 barns. He also made many parks, which he filled with beasts, and had a huntsman and dogs. one could deceive him as to the resources of the abbey even to a penny's value, whereas he had received nothing in writing from his predecessors concerning the management of the abbey, except a little schedule containing the names of the knights of St. Edmund and the names of the manors, and the rent which attached to each farm. Now he called this book of his, his Calendar, in the which also were written down all the debts which he had paid. And he consulted this book almost daily, as if in it he saw the image of his probity as in a glass. OF THAT WHICH WAS DONE AT THE ABBOT'S FIRST CHAPTER changed, and he answered, with bowed head, 'You are a fool, and speak as a fool. You should know the saying of Solomon, Hast thou many daughters; show not thyself 5 cheerful toward them.' Then I was silent, and from that time placed a guard on my lips. On the first day on the which he held a chapter he confirmed to us under his new seal the sixty shillings for Southrey, which his predecessors had in the first instance unjustly received from Edmund, called the Yet on another occasion I said, 'Lord, I golden monk, that the same might hold the heard you this night keeping watch after said township to farm all the days of his 10 matins and breathing heavily contrary to life. And he proposed an edict that no one should pledge the ornaments of the church henceforth without the assent of the monastery, as had been done formerly. He pro- 15 posed also that no charter should be sealed with the seal of the monastery save in the chapter and in the presence of the whole community. Then he made Hugh subsacristan, ordain- 20 ing that William the sacristan should do nothing in the office of sacristan, either as to receipts or as to expenses, save by his assent. Afterwards, but on the same day, he removed the former custodians of the oblations to 25 other offices. And last of all he deposed William himself, whereupon certain who loved William said, 'See the abbot! See the wolf of whom one dreamed! See how he ravens!' HOW THE AUTHOR TALKED WITH THE AB- your wont.' And he answered, 'Is it not strange? You share my good things, food, and drink, and riding, and the like. But you think little of the toil of providing for the house and household, of the many and arduous labours which are a pastor's care. These make me anxious, and cause me to groan and be troubled in spirit.' Thereupon I raised my hands to heaven and answered, 'From so great anxiety, almighty and merciful Lord, deliver me!' I heard the abbot say that if he were in that condition in which he had been before he became a monk, and had five or six marks income wherewith he might support himself in the schools, he would never become either monk or abbot. And on another occasion, he said with an oath that had he known beforehand what care there was in ruling an 30 abbey, and how great that care was, he would far rather have been almoner or librarian, than abbot and lord. And he declared that he had ever longed for the post of librarian above all others. Yet who would 35 believe such things? Not I; no, not I; but that as I lived with him day and night for six years, I know fully the merit of his life and the wisdom of his mind. But I noticed this, and taking a favourable occasion, as I was with him alone, said, 'There are two things in which you make me marvel greatly.' And when he asked what they were, I said, 'One is, that you, in the 40 circumstances in which you are placed, favour the opinion of those of Melun who say that from a false premiss nothing can follow, and other foolish things.' And when he CONCERNING THE APPEARANCE AND PRI VATE CHARACTER OF THE ABBOT Abbot Samson was below the average height, almost bald; his face was neither answered what he would to this, I added, 45 round nor oblong; his nose was prominent 'The other thing at which I marvel is that you do not show a smiling face at home as you do elsewhere, nor remain among the brothers who cherish you, and love you, and have chosen you to be their lord, but are 50 rarely with them, nor do you then rejoice with them, so they say.' When he heard this, his expression and his lips thick; his eyes were clear and his glance penetrating; his hearing was excellent; his eyebrows arched, and frequently shaved; and a little cold soon made him hoarse. On the day of his election he was forty-seven, and had been a monk for seventeen years. In his ruddy beard there were a few grey hairs, and still fewer in his black and curling hair. But in the course of the first fourteen years after his election all his hair became white as snow. good officials more than good monks. He rarely commended anyone solely on account of his knowledge of letters, unless the man happened to have knowledge of secular af5 fairs, and if he chanced to hear of any prel ate who had given up his pastoral work and become a hermit, he did not praise him for this. He would not praise men who were too kindly, saying, 'He who strives to please all He was an exceedingly temperate man; he possessed great energy and a strong constitution, and was fond both of riding and walking, until old age prevailed upon him and moderated his ardour in these respects. When he heard the news of the capture of the cross and the fall of Jerusalem, he began to 10 men, deserves to please none.' wear under garments made of horse-hair, and a horse-hair shirt, and gave up the use of flesh and meat. None the less, he willed that flesh should be placed before him as he sat at table, that the alms might be in- 15 creased. He ate sweet milk, honey, and similar sweet things far more readily than any other food. He hated liars, drunkards, and talkative persons; for virtue ever loves itself and 20 spurns that which is contrary to it. He blamed those who grumbled about their meat and drink, and especially monks who so grumbled, and personally kept to the same manners which he had observed when 25 he was a cloistered monk. Moreover, he had this virtue in himself that he never desired to change the dish which was placed before him. When I was a novice, I wished to prove whether this was really true, and as I 30 happened to serve in the refectory, I thought to place before him food which would have offended any other man, in a very dirty and broken dish. But when he saw this, he was as it were blind to it. Then, as there was 35 some delay, I repented of what I had done, and straightway seized the dish, changed the food and dish for better, and carried it to him. He, however, was angry at the change, and disturbed. 40 HOW ABBOT SAMSON MANAGED HIS He laboured to secure a well-regulated house, and a household large, but not larger than was right, and he took care that the weekly allowance which in the time of his predecessor had not been enough for five days, should last him for eight days, or nine, or ten, if he were on his manors and there were no great coming of guests. Every week, moreover, he audited the expenses of his house, not through an agent, but in person, a thing which his predecessor had never been accustomed to do. For his first seven years he had four dishes in his house, afterwards only three, if one excludes presents, and game from his parks and fish from his ponds. And if he happened to keep anyone for a while in his house at the request of some great man or of one of his friends, or messengers, or minstrels, or any such person, he used to take any opportunity of crossing the sea or going a long journey, and so prudently freed himself from so great expense. CONCERNING IMPROVEMENTS WHICH Now when the abbot had built many different buildings in his townships throughout the abbacy, and had taken up his residence on them more often and more frequently than with us at home, at last he returned, as it were to himself. And making good, as it were, better, he said that he would stay at home more than had been his He was an eloquent man, speaking both French and Latin, but rather careful of the good sense of that which he had to say than of the style of his words. He could read books written in English very well, and was 45 wont to preach to the people in English, but in the dialect of Norfolk where he was born and bred. It was for this reason that he ordered a pulpit to be placed in the church, for the sake of those who heard him 50 wont, and that he would build houses which and for purposes of ornament. The abbot further appeared to prefer the active to the contemplative life, and praised were needed, regarding things within and without, and knowing that the presence of the master is the profit of the field. Accordingly he ordered that the stables and offices in and around the court, which had previously been covered with reeds, should be covered with new roofs, made of slates, by means of Hugh the sacristan, that so all fear might be removed and all danger of fire. And behold the acceptable time, the day which had been desired! Of this I cannot write without joy, for that I had the care of the guests. Behold! by order of 10 the abbot, the court resounded with spades and with the tools of masons, that the guesthouse might be overthrown, and now was almost entirely razed, since the Highest planned its restoration! tices in the exchequer court as to whether the shrine of St. Edmund should be partially dismantled for the ransom of the king, the abbot arose and said, 'Know it for the 5 truth that this shall never be done by me, nor is there any man who can compel me to assent to this. But I will open the doors of the church; let him enter who will, let him approach who dares.' And all the justices answered with oaths, 'I will not come near it,' 'I will not come near it.' And they said, 'St. Edmund is even more angered against those who are far away and absent, than he is with those who are present and would 15 take away his cloak.' And when this had been said, the shrine was not stripped, nor was a ransom paid for it. And for this cause the abbot omitted other things, and turned his mind with forethought and providence to the making of a crest for the shrine. And now the plates of gold and silver resounded between the hammer and the anvil, and the smiths worked with their tools. Late 12th c. The abbot built a new larder for himself in his court, and gave the old larder of the monastery for the use of the chamberlain, since it was unfittingly situated under the dormitory. The chapels of St. Andrew and 20 St. Catherine and St. Faith were newly covered with lead. And many improvements were effected within and without the church. If you do not believe, open your eyes and behold! 25 And in his time also our stone almonry was constructed, which had before been out of repair and built of wood, and to the cost of this one of our brothers, Walter the physician, who was then almoner, contributed 30 that which he had made from the practice of medicine. Walter Map (c.1140-c.1210) COURTIERS' TRIFLES * THE STORY OF KING HERLA That there was but one court similar to this of ours we learn from old stories. These tell us that Herla, the king of the very ancient Britons, was led into a compact by another king, seemingly a pigmy in the lowness of his stature, which did not exceed that of an ape. As the story hath it, this dwarf drew near, sitting on a huge goat - just such a man as Pan is pictured, with glowing face, enormous head, and a red beard so long that it touched his breast (which was brightly adorned with a dappled fawn skin), a hairy belly, and thighs which degenerated into goat-feet. Herla spake to him with no one by. Quoth the pigmy: 'I, the king of many kings and chiefs and of a people numerous beyond all count, come willingly, sent from them to thee, and though I am to thee unknown, yet I glory in the fame which hath Moreover, when the abbot saw that the silver table of the high altar, and many other precious ornaments, had been alienated for 35 the recovery of Mildenhall and for the ransom of king Richard, he would not restore that table or other similar things, which for a like purpose might be torn away and distrained. But he turned his attention to the 40 construction of a most valuable crest over the shrine of the glorious martyr Edmund, that his ornament might be placed there, whence for no reason could it be taken away, and where no man would dare to lay hands 45 upon it. Indeed, when king Richard was taken captive in Germany, there was no treasure in England which was not given or for which redemption was not made, yet the shrine of St. Edmund remained intact. 50 raised thee high above other kings, since For when there was a dispute for the jus thou art the best and the nearest to me in Translation by Frederick Tupper and M. B. Ogle, the Macmillan Company, New York, 1924. By permission of the publishers. an ar place and blood, and art moreover worthy of cock-crow. But just a year later he suddenly appeared to Herla, and sought from him the discharge of his compact. Herla assented, and having provided himself with 5 the wherewithal for the discharge of his debt, followed where he was led. He and his guide entered a cavern in a very lofty cliff, and after a space of darkness they passed into light, seemingly not of sun or of moon but of many lamps, to the home of the pigmies a mansion in every way glorious, like the palace of the sun in Ovid's description. Having celebrated there the marriage, and having discharged fittingly his debt to the pigmy, Herla, with the sanction of his host, withdrew laden with gifts and with presents of horses, dogs, hawks, and all things befitting venery and falconry. The pigmy conducted his guests to the darkness and at parting gave to them a small bloodhound, to be carried in arms, strictly forbidding any one of Herla's whole company to dismount until the dog should leap forward from his bearer. Then, having said farewell, he returned to his country. When Herla in a short time was restored to sunlight and to his kingdom, he accosted an old shepherd and asked for news of his queen by name. Then the shepherd, regarding him with wonder, thus replied: 'My lord, I scarce understand thy language, since I am a Saxon and thou a Briton. But I have never heard of the name of that queen, save that men tell of one so called, a queen of the very ancient Britons, and wife of King Herla, who is reported in legends to have disappeared with a pigmy into this cliff and to have been seen nevermore on earth. The Saxons, having driven out the natives, have possessed this kingdom for full two hundred years.' The king, who had deemed his stay to be of three days only, could scarcely sit his horse for wonder. Some of his fellows, forsooth, heedless of the pigmy's warnings, dismounted before the descent of the dog, and were immediately changed to dust. But the king, understanding the reason for this change, prohibited, by threat of like death, any one to touch the earth before the descent of the dog. But the dog never descended. Everything which Herla had prepared was left untouched. His servants sat in idleness, for they were not called upon and hence 35 rendered no service. The pigmies were everywhere, winning everybody's thanks, aflame with the glory of their garments and gems, like the sun and moon before other stars, a burden to no one in word or deed, 40 never in the way and never out of the way. Their king, in the midst of the ministrations of his servants, thus addressed King Herla: 'O best of kings, the Lord is my witness that, according to our compact, I am present at 45 thy wedding. But if anything that thou cravest besides what thou seest here can be asked of me, I shall willingly supply it; but if not, thou must not put off thy requital of this high honour when I shall ask for it.' 50 Without pausing for an answer to these words he suddenly returned to his pavilion and departed with his men about the time Hence the story hath it that King Herla, in endless wandering, maketh mad marches. with his army without stay or rest. Many |