On the very day that the thirteen departed we were all sitting together in the cloister, when William of Hastings, one of our brethren, said, "I know that we shall have one of our convent to be abbot." And being asked how he came to be so certain of this, he replied, that he had beheld in a dream a prophet clothed in white, standing before the gates of the monastery, and that he asked him, in the name of G.o.d, whether we should have an abbot of our own. And the prophet answered, "You shall have one of your own body, but he shall rage among you as a wolf"; of which dream the interpretation followed in part, because the future abbot cared more to be feared than loved, as many were accustomed to say.
There also sat along with us another brother, Edmund by name, who a.s.serted that Samson was about to be abbot, and told a vision he had seen the previous night. He said he beheld in his dream Roger the cellarer and Hugh the third prior, standing before the altar, and Samson in the midst, taller by the shoulders upward, wrapt round with a long gown down to his feet, looped over his shoulders, and standing as a champion ready to do battle. And, as it seemed to him in his dream, St. Edmund arose from his shrine, and, as if sickly, showed his feet and legs bare. When some one approached and desired to cover the feet of the saint, the saint said, "Approach me not; behold, he shall veil my feet," pointing with his finger towards Samson. This is the interpretation of the dream: By his seeming to be a champion is signified that the future abbot should always be in travail; at one time moving a controversy against the Archbishop of Canterbury, concerning pleas of the Crown, at another time against the knights of St. Edmund, to compel them to pay their escuages in full; at another time with the burgesses for standing in the market; at another time with the sokemen for the suits of the hundreds; even as a champion who willeth by fighting to overcome his adversaries that he may be able to gain the rights and liberties of his church. And he veiled the feet of the holy martyr when he perfectly completed the towers of the church, commenced a hundred years before.
Such dreams as these did our brethren dream, which were immediately published throughout the cloister, afterwards through the court lodge, so that before the evening it was a matter of common talk amongst the townsfolk, they saying this man and that man are elected, and one of them will be abbot.
At last the prior and the twelve that were with him, after many fatigues and delays, stood before the King at Waltham, the manor of the Bishop of Winchester, upon the second Sunday in Lent. The King graciously received them; and, saying that he wished to act in accordance with the will of G.o.d and the honour of our church, commanded the brethren by prolocutors--namely, Richard the Bishop of Winchester, and Geoffrey the chancellor, afterwards Archbishop of York--that they should nominate three members of our convent.
The prior and brethren retiring as if to confer thereupon, drew forth the sealed writing and opened it, and found the names written in this order--Samson, sub-sacrista; Roger, celerarius; Hugo, tercius prior.
Hereupon those brethren who were of higher standing blushed with shame; they also marvelled that this same Hugh should be at once elector and elected. But, inasmuch as they could not alter what was done, by mutual arrangement they changed the order of the names; first naming Hugh, because he was third prior; secondly, Roger the cellarer; thirdly, Samson, thus literally making the last first and the first last.
The King, first inquiring whether they were born in his realm, and in whose lordship, said he knew them not, directing that with those three, some other three of the convent should be nominated. This being a.s.sented to, William the sacrist said, "Our prior ought to be nominated because he is our head," which was directly allowed. The prior said, "William the sacrist is a good man"; the like was said of Dennis, and that was settled. These being nominated before the King without any delay, the King marvelled, saying, "These men have been speedy in their work; G.o.d is with them."
Next the King commanded that, for the honour of his kingdom, they should name three persons of other houses. On hearing this, the brethren were afraid, suspecting some craft. At last, upon conference, it was resolved that they should name three, but upon this understanding, that they would not receive any one of those three, unless by a.s.sent of the convent at home. And they named these three--Master Nicholas of Waringford, afterwards (for a season) Abbot of Malmesbury; Bertrand, Prior of St. Faith"s, afterwards Abbot of Chertsey; and Master H. of St. Neot"s, a monk of Bec, a man highly religious, and very circ.u.mspect in spiritual as well as temporal affairs.
This being done, the King thanked them, and ordered that three should be struck off of the nine; and forthwith the three strangers were struck off, namely, the Prior of St. Faith"s, afterwards Abbot of Chertsey, Nicholas, a monk of St. Albans, afterwards Abbot of Malmesbury, and the Prior of St. Neot"s. William the sacrist voluntarily retired, two of the five were struck out by command of the King, and, ultimately, one out of the remaining three. There then remained but two, the prior and Samson.
Then at length the before-named prolocutors of our lord the King were called to the council of the brethren: and Dennis, speaking as one for all, began by commending the persons of the prior and Samson, saying, that each of them was learned, each was good, each was of meritorious life and good character. But always in the corner of his discourse he gave prominence to Samson, multiplying words in his praise, saying that he was a man strict in life, severe in reforming excesses, and ready to work hard; heedful, moreover, in secular matters, and approved in various offices. The Bishop of Winchester replied, "We see what it is you wish to say; from your address we gather that your prior seems to you to have been somewhat remiss, and that, in fact, you wish to have him who is called Samson." Dennis answered, "Either of them is good, but, by G.o.d"s help, we desire to have the best." To whom the bishop, "Of two good men the better should be chosen. Speak out at once; is it your wish to have Samson?" Whereupon several, in fact the majority, answered clearly, "We do wish Samson." No one gainsaid this, though some studiously held their peace, being fearful of offending either one or the other.
Samson was then named to the King, and after a brief consultation with those about him, the King called all in, and said, "You present to me Samson--I know him not; had you presented to me your prior, I should have accepted him, because I know and am well acquainted with him; but now I will do as you desire me. Take heed to yourselves; by the very eyes of G.o.d, if you have done ill, I shall call you to severe account." And he inquired of the prior, whether he a.s.sented to this choice and agreed thereto; who replied that he was well content it should be so, and that Samson was worthy of a much greater dignity.
Then the elect, falling down at the King"s feet and kissing them, hastily arose, and forthwith went towards the altar, erect in gait, and with unmoved countenance, singing "Miserere mei Deus," together with his brethren.
The King, observing this, said to the bystanders, "By the eyes of G.o.d, this abbot-elect thinks himself worthy to govern an abbey!"
CHAPTER IV
SAMSON"S INSTALLATION
Now when the news of the election arrived at the monastery, it gladdened all the cloister monks and some of the officers also, but only a few. "It is well," many said, "because it is well." Others said, "Not so; verily we are all deceived." The elect, before he returned to us, received his benediction from my lord of Winchester, who, at the same time, placing the mitre on the head of the abbot, and the ring on his finger, said, "This is the dignity of the abbots of St. Edmund; my experience long since taught me this." The abbot, therefore, keeping three monks with him, despatched the others homewards, sending word by them of his intended arrival on Palm Sunday, and giving charge to certain of them to provide the things necessary for his day of festival.
As he returned homewards, a mult.i.tude of new relations came about him offering to serve him, but he answered all of them that he was content with the servants of the prior, nor could he retain others until he had obtained the a.s.sent of the convent. Nevertheless, he retained one knight who was well spoken and learned in the law, not so much upon the score of relationship, but on account of his usefulness, he being well practised in secular suits.
This knight he took, while he was fresh to the work, as an a.s.sessor in secular controversies; for he was a new abbot, and inexperienced in such concerns, as he himself was free to declare: indeed, before he received the abbacy, he had never been present where gage and safe pledge had been given.
With the accustomed honours, and with a procession, was he received by his convent on Palm Sunday. The abbot"s reception was in this wise: overnight he lay at Kentford, and we, at the proper moment, went forth from the chapter-house to meet him with great solemnity, up to the gate of the cemetery, with ringing of bells inside the choir and without. He himself was surrounded by a mult.i.tude of men, and when he espied the fraternity, he dismounted from his horse outside the threshold of the gate. Causing his shoes to be taken off, he was received barefooted within the door, and conducted on each side by the prior and sacrist.
We chanted the responses "Benedictus Dominus," in the office of the Trinity, and then "Martyri adhuc," in the office of St. Edmund, leading the abbot up to the high altar. This being finished, the organs and bells were silenced, and the prayer, "Omnipotens sempiterne Deus miserere huic," was said by the prior over the abbot, who was prostrate. An offering was then made by the abbot, and kissing the shrine, he returned into the choir. There Samson the precentor took him by the hand and led him to the abbot"s throne at the west end; where, the abbot still standing, the precentor straight-way began, "Te Deum laudamus," and whilst this was being sung, the abbot was kissed by the prior and the whole convent in order. This done, the abbot proceeded to the chapter-house, the whole convent following him, with many others.
"Benedicite" having been said, in the first place he gave thanks to the convent that they had chosen him--who was, he said, the least of them all--to be their lord and shepherd, not on account of his own merits, but solely by the will of G.o.d. And beseeching them briefly that they would pray for him, he addressed his discourse to the clerks and knights, requiring them that they should a.s.sist him with their advice according to the burden of the charge entrusted to him. And Wimer the sheriff, answering for them all, said, "We are ready to stand by you in counsel and a.s.sistance on every occasion, as we did by our dear lord whom G.o.d has called to his glory, and to the glory of the holy martyr St. Edmund." And then were the charters of the King concerning the gift of the abbacy produced and read in full audience.
Lastly, after a prayer by the abbot himself, that G.o.d might guide him according to his Divine grace, and "Amen" being responded by all, he retired to his chamber, spending his day of festival with more than a thousand dinner guests with great rejoicing.
While these things were taking place I was the prior"s chaplain, and within four months was made the abbot"s chaplain, noting many things, and committing them to memory. On the morrow of his feast the abbot called to him the prior and some few besides, as if seeking advice from others, though he himself knew what he would do. He said that a new seal should be made with a mitred effigy of him, although his predecessors had not the like; but for a time he used the seal of our prior, subscribing at the end of all letters, that he had no seal of his own and therefore he used for the time that of the prior.
Afterwards, setting his household in order, he appointed divers servants to various duties, saying that he had decided to have twenty-six horses in his courtyard, and that a child must first creep and then stand upright and walk. He enjoined this to his servants beyond all things, that they should take heed that in his new state he be not dishonoured by a lack of meat and drink, but rather that they in all things should anxiously provide for the hospitality of the house. In ordering and appointing these and all other things, he fully relied upon G.o.d"s providence and his own understanding, and judged it beneath him to require counsel at another"s hand as if he were not able to look after his own affairs.
The monks marvelled, the knights were discontented, accusing him of arrogance, and, in some measure censuring him at the King"s court, saying that he refused to govern according to the advice of his own freemen. As for him, he removed from his own private counsel the heads of the abbey, lay as well as clerical; indeed, all those without whose advice and a.s.sistance the abbey, as it seemed, could not be governed.
By reason of this circ.u.mstance, Ranulf de Glanville, Justiciary of England, at first held him in distrust, and was less gracious to him than was fitting, until it was made clear, by good evidence, that the abbot had been acting with due caution and prudence in respect of indoor as well as external matters.
A general court having been summoned, all the barons, knights and freemen appeared to do homage on the fourth day of Easter; when, behold, Thomas of Hastings, with a great mult.i.tude of knights, came introducing Henry his nephew, not yet a knight, claiming the stewardship with its perquisites, according to the tenor of his charter. To whom the abbot replied, "I do not refuse Henry his right, nor do I wish so to do. If he were competent to serve me in his own person, I would a.s.sign him necessaries for ten men and eight horses in my own court-lodge, according to the tenor of his charter. If you present to me a steward, his deputy, who is competent and able to perform the duty, I will receive him in the same manner as my predecessor retained him at the time of his decease, namely, with four horses and their appurtenances. And if this does not content you, I shall carry the plaint before the King or his chief justice." Hereupon the business was deferred.
Ultimately there was presented to him a simple and foolish steward, Gilbert by name, of whom, before he received him into his household, he spoke to his friends as follows: "If there be a default in the administration of the King"s justice through the unskilfulness of the steward, he will be in mercy of the King, and not I, for this, that he claims the office by hereditary right; and therefore I had much rather receive him for the present than a sharper witted man to deceive me.
By G.o.d"s a.s.sistance I trust I shall be my own steward."
After receipt of the homages, the abbot sued for an aid from the knights, who promised each twenty shillings; but immediately they took counsel together and withheld twelve pounds in respect of twelve knights, alleging that those twelve ought to a.s.sist the other forty in keeping their castle-guards, and for their escuages, as well as in respect of the abbot"s aid. The abbot, hearing this, waxed wroth, and said to his intimate friends that if he lived long enough he would give them turn for turn and wrong for wrong.
CHAPTER V
THE NEW ABBOT"S REFORMS
After these things the abbot caused inquisition to be made throughout each manor, concerning the annual quit rents from the freemen, and the names of the labourers and their tenements, and the services due from each; and he reduced all into writing. Likewise he repaired those old halls and unroofed houses round which hovered kites and crows. He built new chapels, and likewise inner chambers and upper stories in many places where there never had been any dwelling-house at all, but only barns. He also enclosed many parks, which he replenished with beasts of chase, keeping a huntsman with dogs; and, upon the visit of any person of quality, sat with his monks in some walk of the wood, and sometimes saw the coursing of the dogs; but I never saw him take part in the sport.
He cleared much land, and brought it into tillage, in all things looking forward to the benefit likely to accrue to the abbey; but I wish he had been equally careful in a.s.signing the manors of the convent. Nevertheless, he, for a time, kept our manors of Bradfield and Rougham in hand, making up the deficiencies of the rents by the expenditure of forty pounds. These he afterwards rea.s.signed to us when he heard that dissatisfaction was expressed in the convent, on account of his keeping our manors in his own hand. Likewise in managing these manors, as well as in all other matters, he appointed keepers who were far more careful than their predecessors--some monks, some laymen, to look after us and our lands more carefully.
He also held the eight hundreds in his own hand, and, after the death of Robert of c.o.c.kfield, he took in hand the hundred of Cosford, all which he committed to the keeping of those servants who were of his own table; referring matters of greater moment to his own decision, and deciding by means of others upon matters of lesser import--indeed, wringing everything to his own profit.
Moreover, by his command, a general survey was made throughout the hundreds of the leets and suits, of hidages and foddercorn, of hen-rents, and of other dues and rents and issues, which, for the greater part, had ever been concealed by the farmers. He reduced it all to writing, so that within four years from the time of his election, there was not one who could defraud him of the rents of the abbey to the value of a single penny, whereas he himself had not received from his predecessors any writing touching the management of the abbey, except one small schedule, wherein were the names of the knights of St. Edmund and the names of the manors, and what rent was due on each farm. This book he called his kalendar, wherein also were entered the debts he had satisfied; and this same book he almost daily perused, as if in the same he were beholding the face of his honesty in a gla.s.s.
The first day that he held a chapter, he confirmed to us, under his new seal, sixty shillings from Southrey, which his predecessors had unjustly received from Edmund, surnamed the golden monk, for the liberty of holding the same vill to farm all the days of his life. He also proposed, as a general rule, that from thenceforth no one should pledge the ornaments of the church without the a.s.sent of the convent, as had been the custom heretofore, nor that any charter should be sealed with the convent seal, unless in chapter in the presence of the convent. He appointed Hugh as sub-sacrist, ordering that William the sacrist should not have anything to do with the sacristy, either in the matter of receipt or disburs.e.m.e.nt, unless by his consent. After this, but not on the same day, he transferred the former keepers of the offerings to other offices; lastly, he deposed the same William: wherefore those who liked William said, "Behold the abbot! Lo, here is the wolf of whom it was dreamed! See how he rages!"
And some of them would have entered into a conspiracy against the abbot. When this was disclosed to him, he, not caring to be altogether silent, nor yet to disquiet the convent, entered the chapter-house on the morrow, and pulled out a little bag full of cancelled deeds, the seals yet hanging thereto, consisting of the securities, partly of his predecessor, partly of the prior, partly of the sacrist, partly of the chamberlain, and other officials, whereof the total was three thousand and fifty-two pounds and one mark without alloy, besides the interest that had accrued thereupon, the amount of which could never be ascertained. All these he had arranged for within one year after his election, and within twelve years entirely discharged. "Behold," said he, "the good management of William, our sacrist; look at the mult.i.tude of securities signed with his seal, whereby he has pledged silken copes, dalmatics, censers of silver and books ornamented with gold, without the knowledge of the convent, all which I have redeemed and have restored to you."
He likewise added many other things, showing why he had deposed the said William: howbeit he suppressed the real cause, not wishing to put him to open shame. And when he put Samson the precentor in his place, a person approved by us, and above all objection, everything was quiet again. Furthermore, the abbot commanded that the houses of the sacrist in the cemetery should be entirely plucked up, as though they were not worthy to stand upon the earth, by reason of the frequent wine-bibbings, and certain other acts not to be named, which he, with grief and indignation, had witnessed while he was sub-sacrist. So completely did he obliterate the whole that, within a year, upon the spot where a n.o.ble dwelling had stood, we saw beans growing, and where casks of wine had lain, nettles abounding.
After the end of Easter, the abbot went over every one of his and our manors, as well as over those we had confirmed to the farmers in fee, requiring from all of them aid and acknowledgment, according to the law of the land. Thus every day he was increasing in secular knowledge, and was turning his attention to the learning and method of ordering outdoor affairs. Now when he had come to Warkton, where he slept at night, there came to him a voice saying, "Samson, arise up quickly"; and, again, "Get up without delay." Getting up astonished, he looked around him, and perceived a light in a necessary house, namely, a candle ready to fall down upon the straw, which Reiner the monk had carelessly left there. When the abbot had put it out, going through the house, he perceived the door (which was the sole entrance) so fastened that it could only be opened by a key--likewise the windows fastened: so that if a fire had arisen, he, and all with him, who slept upon that floor, had surely perished, for there was no place whence they might get out or escape.
At that time, wheresoever the abbot went, there came about him Jews as well as Christians, demanding debts, and worrying and importuning him so that he could not sleep. Thereupon he became pale and thin, and was constantly repeating, "My heart will never rest until I know the extent of my debts." The feast of St. Michael being come, he took all his manors into his own hand, with but small store of live or dead stock; he freely forgave Walter of Hatfield nineteen pounds arrears, that he might absolutely take back four manors which Hugh the abbot had confirmed to him, namely, Hargrave and Saxham and Chevington and Stapleford; Harlow, indeed, the abbot deferred to take to himself on the present occasion.
Once on a time, as we pa.s.sed through the forest in returning from London, I inquired in the hearing of my lord abbot, from an old woman pa.s.sing by, whose was this wood, and of what town, who was the lord, and who was the keeper? She answered that the wood belonged to the abbot of St. Edmund, as part of the town of Harlow, and that the name of the keeper was Arnald. When I inquired further, how Arnald conducted himself towards the men of the town, she answered, that he was a devil incarnate, an enemy of G.o.d, and one to flay the poor alive; but now, she added, he is afraid of the new abbot of St.
Edmund, whom he believes to be prudent and vigilant, and therefore he treats the men gently. On hearing this, the abbot was delighted, and deferred taking to the manor for a season.
At that time there came unexpectedly the news of the death of the wife of Herlewin of Rungton, who had a charter to hold the same town for her life; and the abbot said, "Yesterday, I would have given sixty marks to have freed the manor from this inc.u.mbrance, but now G.o.d has freed it." And as he was going thither without delay, that he might take that town into his own hand, and on the morrow was going to Tillener, a part of that manor, there came a certain knight offering thirty marks for the tenure of that carucate of land, with the appurtenances, by the old rent-service, to wit, four pounds, whereto the abbot could not agree; and he had therefrom in that year twenty-five pounds, and the second year twenty pounds.
These and such like things induced him to hold everything in his own keeping; as it is written elsewhere, "Caesar was all in all." In the first place, far from being inert, he commenced building barns and byres, above all things solicitous to dress the land for tillage, and watchful in preserving the woods, in respect whereof, either in giving or diminishing, he confessed himself to be a very miser. There was but one manor, and that was Thorpe, which by his charter he confirmed to one of English birth, a villein, whose honesty he trusted the more, as he was a good husbandman, and could not speak French.
Scarcely seven months had elapsed since his election, when, behold!
there were presented to him the letters of our lord the Pope, appointing him a judge to determine causes, for the execution of which he was incompetent and inexperienced, although he was thoroughly imbued with liberal arts and divinity, as befitted a man of learning, a literate man, educated in the schools and a master in them, known and approved in his own province. Wherefore he invited two clerks, learned in the law, and a.s.sociated them to himself. Of their advice he availed himself in ecclesiastical matters, employing himself upon the decrees and decretal epistles, when an opportunity offered; so that within a short time, as well by references to books as by the handling of causes, he became reputed a discreet judge, proceeding in every suit according to form of law; so a certain person said, "Cursed be the court of this abbot, where neither gold nor silver can help me to confound my adversary."
In process of time, becoming somewhat practised in secular causes, and taught by an inborn commonsense, he became of so subtle a wit that all marvelled; indeed, by Osbert Fitz-Hervey, the under-sheriff, it was said, "This abbot is a wrangler; if he goes on as he has begun, he will outwit us all, many as we be." Now the abbot becoming an expert man in causes of this description, was made a justice errant, but yet he preserved himself from error and corruption. But "envy aims at the highest." When his men made their plaints to him in the court of St.
Edmund, because he was unwilling to give hasty judgment, or to "believe every spirit," but preferred to proceed in due course of law, well knowing that the merits of causes are developed by the allegations of the parties, it was said of him that he would not do justice to any complainant, unless by the intervention of money given or promised.