UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNI
AT LOS ANGELES
THE GIFT OF
MAY TREAT MORRISON
IN MEMORY OF
ALEXANDER F MORRISON
THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
AND OTHER ESSAYS
LONDON : GEORGE BELL AND SONS
PORTUGAL ST. LINCOLN'S INN, W.C.
CAMBRIDGE : DEIGHTON, BELL & CO.
NEW YORK : THE MACMILLAN CO.
BOMBAY: A. H. WHEELER & CO.
THE LAST ABBOT OF
GLASTONBURY
AND OTHER ESSAYS
BY
FRANCIS AIDAN GASOUET, D.D.
ABBOT PRESIDENT OF THE ENGLISH BENEDICTINES
* • .
LONDON
GEORGE BELL AND SONS
1908
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■
CHISWICK PRESS: CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.
TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON.
i
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TO THE READER
A FEW words only seem necessary to introduce this
volume of Essays to the public. The papers con-
tained in a former volume of Essays were gathered to-
gether and published some ten years ago; and this
edition having been now for some time out of print, I
was urged to issue it in a cheaper form. Whilst this
matter was under consideration, it was further suggested
to me that while republishing the first series, I might add
a second volume of collected papers, articles, etc., which
have appeared since the publication of the first volume.
In regard to the Essays here presented in this second
collection, it may be well to make the following remarks.
The first item: The Last Abbot of Glastonbury, was pub-
lished in 1895 as a small book for a special occasion.
It gathers together memorials of the destruction of the
great Benedictine abbeys of Glastonbury, Reading, and
Colchester, and gives a brief sketch of the tragic
deaths of the last abbots of those houses in the reign of
o Henry VIII. This volume has been for some years out
of print; and as it is not too long to reprint as an essay,
I have thought it better to include it in this present
volume than to re-issue it separately.
Of the other papers, that on St. Gregory and England
was written on the occasion of the thirteenth centenary of
the death of that Pope some four years ago. It contains
a sketch of what England owes to a Pope whom our
V
o
vi TO THE READER
forefathers loved to call the Apostle of our race. The
paper on English Biblical Criticism in the Thirteenth
Century, written ten years ago, seems to-day curiously
to foreshadow the necessary work of preparing for a
critical edition of the Vulgate which has been recently
initiated by the present Pope, Pius X.
To some, no doubt, one or two of the papers in this
present volume may appear too unimportant and slight
to deserve preserving in a more permanent form than
they enjoyed in the magazines in which they have
already appeared. Such as they are, however, I have
been advised to let them find a place in this collection,
and therefore give them for what they are worth.
My thanks are in this instance due to Dom H. N.
Birt in a very special manner. The whole work of pre-
paring these papers for the press, correcting the proofs,
and making the Index, has been undertaken by him.
Francis Aidan Gasquet.
CONTENTS
I. The Last Abbot of Glastonbury
Chap. I. Glastonbury .....
II. Richard Whiting ....
III. Richard Whiting Elected Abbot
IV. Troubles in Church and State .
V. Richard Whiting as Abbot of Glaston
bury ......
VI. The Beginning of the End
VII. The Martyrdom ....
VIII. Abbot Hugh Cook of Reading
IX. The Last Abbot of Colchester
Appendix I .
Appendix II .
II. English Biblical Criticism in the Thir
teenth Century
III. English Scholarship in the Thirteenth
Century
IV. Two Dinners at Wells in the Fifteenth
Century
V. Some Troubles of a Catholic Family in
Penal Times
VI. Abbot Feckenham and Bath .
VII. Christian Family Life in Pre-Reformation
Days
VIII. Christian Democracy in Pre-Reformation
Times
IX. The Layman in the Pre-Reformation Parish
X. St. Gregory the Great and England
Index
vn
PAGE
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8
17
24
33
47
63
72
95
107
hi
Il3
141
166
186
203
224
245
261
279
3U
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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
View of Glastonbury and the Tor (From Hollar's
Print) To face p.
Interior View of St. Mary's Chapel . ,, ,, 6
Norman Doorway of St. Mary's Chapel . ,, „ 12
Exterior of St. Mary's Chapel . . . „ „ 12
Ruins of the Choir of Glastonbury Abbey
Church „ » 20
The Pegged Grace-Cup of Glastonbury
Abbey „ „ 54
Facsimile of Part of Crumwell's " Remem-
brances " On p. 59
General View of Glastonbury Tor . . To face p. 64
Summit of Tor Hill „ ,, 68
A Glastonbury Chair, probably made by
Dom John Thorne ....,,,, 70
Facsimile of Abbot Whiting's Signature . On p. 112
Vlll
3
I
£
Z
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I
THE LAST ABBOT OF
GLASTONBURY
CHAPTER I
GLASTONBURY
THE prospect from the Roman camp of Masbury,
on the Mendip hills of Somerset, is one to be
remembered. The country presents itself to the view as
in a map. In front a vast plain stretches out into the
dim blue horizon across Dorsetshire to the shores of the
English Channel. To the east the hills fall and rise like
the swell of the sea in a series of vales and heights till
they are lost in the distance. Westward the landscape
is more varied, the ground, which at the spectator's feet
had attained well-nigh to the dignity of a mountain,
sinks away in a succession of terraces to the level country
lying between it and the waters of the Severn sea.
From the midst of this plain there rises clear and sharp
against the sky, like a pyramid, a hill crowned with a
tower, which forms from all points the most marked
feature of the scene. Neither the glancing of the sun-
light from the surface of the sea some fifteen miles away,
nor the glimpse that is caught between the trees of the
B
2 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
grey towers and gables of the great cathedral church of
Well 5, nor ye: the sight of the spire of Doulting, calling
up as it does memories of Saint Aldhelm, can long
restrain the eye from turning once again to gaze on the
conical hill with its tower which stands out in the land-
scape. Remarkable alike in its contour and in its situa-
tion, these do not constitute its chief attraction, for it
speaks not only to the eye but to the mind also; it is
Nature's monument marking a spot of more than ordin-
ary interest. The shadows of tradition seem still to
hover over the hill and recall a past which is lost in the
dimness of legend. More than all, however, the last
record which marks the place in the pages of history
brings to mind a deed of desecration and of blood per-
petrated in the evil days which brought ruin to the most
famous sanctuary on English soil, for here suffered for
conscience sake Richard Whiting, last abbot of the far-
famed abbey of Glastonbury which nestled at its foot,
thus making a worthy close to a history without parallel
in the annals of our country.
The history of Glastonbury is the history of its abbey;
without its abbey Glastonbury were nothing.1 Even among
those great ecclesiastical institutions, the Benedictine
abbeys of mediaeval England, the history of Glastonbury
has a character all its own. I will not insult its venerable
age, says a recent historian, by so much as contrasting
it with the foundations of yesterday, which arose under
the influence of the Cistercian movement, for they play
but a small part indeed in the history of this church and
realm. Glastonbury is something more than Netley and
Tintern, Rievaulx and Fountains. It is something more
again than the Benedictine houses which arose at the
1 The following is adapted from the late Professor Freeman.
GLASTONBURY 3
bidding of the Norman Conqueror, of his race and of
his companions; more than Selby and Battle, and
Shrewsbury and Reading. It is in its own special aspect
something more even than the royal minster of St.
Peter, the crowning place of Harold and of William,
which came to supplant Glastonbury as the burial place
of kings. Nay, it stands out distinct even among the
great and venerable foundations of English birth which
were already great and venerable when this country fell
into the hands of the Norman. There is something- in
Glastonbury which one looks for in vain at Peterborough
and Crowland and Evesham, or even at Winchester
and Canterbury; all these are the works of our own, our
English people; they go back to the days of our ancient
kingship, they go back — some of them — even to the
days when Augustine preached, and Theodore fixed the
organisation of the growing English Church; but they
go back no further. We know their beginnings, we know
their founders; their history, nay, their very legends do
not dare to trace up their foundations beyond the time
of the coming of Saxon and Angle into this island. At
Glastonbury, and at Glastonbury alone, we instinctively
feel that the name of England is not all, for here, and
here alone, we walk with easy steps, with no thought of
any impassable barrier, from the realm of Saxon Ina
back to that of Arthur, the hero king of the British race.
Alongside of the memory and the tombs of the West-
Saxon princes, who broke the power of the Northmen,
there still abides the memory of the British prince who
checked for a generation the advance of the Saxon.
But at Glastonbury even this is a small matter. The
legends of the spot go back to the very days of the
Apostles. Here, and here alone on English soil, we are
4 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
linked, not only to the beginnings of English Christi-
anity, but to the beginnings of Christianity itself. We
are met at the outset by the tradition that the spot
was made sacred as the dwelling of a multitude of the
just, and its soil hallowed by the bodies of numerous
saints, " whose souls now rejoice," says an ancient writer,
" in the possession of God in heaven." For here were
believed to have found a resting place the twelve dis-
ciples of Philip the Apostle, sent by him to Britain,
under the leadership of Joseph of Arimathea, who had
buried our Lord. " We know not," continues our author
in his simple style, " whether they really repose here,
although we have read that they sojourned in the place
for nine years; but here dwelt assuredly many of their
disciples, ever twelve in number, who in imitation of
them led a hermit's life until unto them came St. Patrick,
the great Apostle of the Irish and first abbot of the
hallowed spot. Here, too, rests St. Benen, the disciple of
St. Patrick; here St. Gildas, the historian of the British;
here St. David, bishop of Menevia, and here the holy
hermit Indractus with his seven companions, all sprung
from the royal race. Here rest the relics of a band of
holy Irish pilgrims, who, returning from a visit to the
shrines of Rome, turned aside to Glastonbury out of
love to St. Patrick's memory and were martyred in a
village named Shapwick. Hither, not long after, their
remains were brought by Ina, our glorious king."
Such stories of the mediaeval scribe, however little
worthy of credit in point of detail, represent, there can
be little doubt, a substantial truth. For as in later cen-
turies there were brought hither even from far distant
Northumbria the relics of Paulinus, and Aidan and
Ceolfrid, of Boisil, of Benet Biscop and of others for
GLASTONBURY 5
security on the advance of the Danes, so too in earlier
dangers there were carried to Glastonbury, to save them
from the blind fury of the pagan Saxon, all that was
most sacred and venerated in the churches of Christian
Britain.
" No fiction, no dream could have dared," writes the
historian, " to set down the names of so many worthies
of the earlier races of the British Islands in the Liber
Vitce of Durham or of Peterborough. Now I do not
ask you to believe these legends; I do ask you to be-
lieve that there was some special cause why legends of
this kind should grow in such a shape, and in such
abundance round Glastonbury alone of all the great
monastic churches of Britain."
Though these Glastonbury legends need not be be-
lieved as the record of facts, still it has been well said
that " the very existence of those legends is a very great
fact." The simple truth is that the remoteness and
isolation of Glastonbury preserved it from attack, until
Christianity had won its way among the West Saxons.
So that when at last the Teutonic conqueror came to
Avalon, he had already bowed his head to the cross and
been washed in the waters of Christian baptism. His
coming was thus not to destroy, but to give renewed
life to the already ancient monastic sanctuary. The
sacred precincts, hitherto held by Britons only, now
received monks of English race some time before King
Ina, its new founder, following the example of his father,
Caedwalla, after a reign of seven and thirty years, re-
signed his crown to journey to Rome, desiring to end his
pilgrimage on earth in the near neighbourhood of the holy
places, so that he might the more readily be received by
the saints themselves into the celestial kingdom.
6 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
And when later the Danes overwhelmed the land, it
was this hallowed spot that was destined to be the
centre from which not merely a vigorous monastic re-
vival spread throughout England, but whence the king-
dom itself was raised by a great reformer to a new
pitch of secular greatness; for it was here that Dun-
stan as a boy, brought by his father on a pilgrimage to
the churches of St. Mary and St. Peter the Apostle,
" built of olden time," passed the night in prayer. Over-
come by sleep the boy saw in a dream an aged man,
clothed in snowy vesture, leading him, not through the
simple chapels and half-ruined buildings which then
occupied the site, but through the fair alleys of a spacious
church and comely claustral buildings, whilst he told
him that thus was Glastonbury to be rebuilt by him, and
that he was to be its future head. This, though but a
dream, was yet a dream which must have been related
by Dunstan himself in after years. The young day-
dreams of a strong nature have a tendency to realise
themselves in later life, and this boyish vision of a re-
novated Glastonbury, the outward sign of a new monas-
tic spirit, manifests the workings of a mind influenced,
but prepared to be influenced, by the past memories and
the present decay of the holy place. Nor did these early
images pass away in view of the brilliant prospects that
opened out before the young cleric, who had all the ad-
vantages of personal capacity and powerful connections,
and so he betook himself to remote and solitary Glaston-
bury, to work out the realisation of his monastic ideals.
Dunstan built up its walls with the essentially practical
end of securing the primary requirements of monastic
enclosure, and the buildings were just like those he
dreamed of in his boyhood. He threw on his brother
INTERIOR VIEW OF ST. MARYS CHAPEL, SHOWING THE
RUINS OF THE CHOIR THROUGH THE WEST
DOOR OF THE ABBEY CHURCH
[To face p. 6
GLASTONBURY 7
Wulfric the entire temporal business and management
of the estates, so that he, freed from the encumbrance
of all external affairs, might build up the souls of those
who had committed themselves to his direction. It was
here at Glastonbury, under the care of St. Dunstan,
that St. Ethelwold was formed and fashioned to be the
chief instrument in carrying out his monastic policy.
Here, too, St. Elphege the martyr, and a successor of
Dunstan on the throne of Canterbury lived his monas-
tic life. And from Avalon, too, about the same time,
went forth the monk Sigfrid, as the evangelist of pagan
Norway.
With such a history, such legends of the past, and
such a renewal as the firm and lofty spirit of Dunstan
effected in its refoundation, it is no wonder that the re-
pute of Glastonbury drew to it a crowd of fervent monks
and the ample benefactions of devout and faithful friends,
so that from henceforward there was no monastic house
in England which for splendour or wealth could compare
with this ancient sanctuary. Through the later Middle
Ages, to the people of England Glastonbury was a
Roma secunda. Strangers came from afar to visit the
holy ground, and pilgrim rests marked the roads which
led to it. Foreigners coming in ships which brought
their freight to the great port of Bristol, hardly ever
failed to turn aside to visit this home of the saints, whilst
memorials of the sanctuary were carried by the Bristol
merchants into foreign lands.
Even now, as it lies in ruin, the imagination can con-
ceive the wonder with which a stranger, on reaching the
summit of the hill, still known as the Pilgrim's Way,
saw spread out before him Glastonbury Abbey in all its
vast extent, with its towers and chapels, its broad courts
8 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
and cloisters, crowned with the mighty church, the fitting
shrine of the sacred relics and holy memories which had
brought him thither.
CHAPTER II
RICHARD WHITING
Never, perhaps, was Glastonbury in greater glory than
at the moment when Richard Whiting was elected to
rule the house as abbot.
Richard Whiting was born probably in the early years
of the second half of the fifteenth century. The civil war
between the Houses of York and Lancaster was then at
its height, and his boyhood must have been passed amid
the popular excitement of the Wars of the Roses and the
varied fortunes of King Edward IV. It is not unimport-
ant to bear this in mind, since the personal experience,
in his youth, of the troubles and dangers of civil strife
can hardly have failed to impress their obvious lesson
strongly upon his mind, and to influence him when the
wilfulness of Henry brought the country to the very
verge of civil war, with its attendant miseries and
horrors.
The abbot's family was west-country in its origin and
was connected distantly with that of Bishop Stapeldon,
of Exeter, the generous founder of Exeter College, Ox-
ford. Its principal member was possessed of consider-
able estates in Devon and Somerset, but Richard Whiting
came of a younger branch of the family, numbered
among the tenant holders of Glastonbury possessions in
RICHARD WHITING 9
the fertile valley of Wrington. The name is found in the
annals of other religious houses. About the time of
Richard Whiting's birth, for example, another Richard,
probably an uncle, was camerarius, or chamberlain, in the
monastery of Bath,1 an office which in after years, at the
time of his election as abbot, the second Richard held in
the Abbey of Glastonbury. Many years later, at the
beginning of the troubles which involved the religious
houses in the reign of Henry VIII, a Jane Whiting,
daughter of John, probably a near relative of the Abbot
of Glastonbury " was shorn and had taken the habit as a
nun in the convent of Wilton ; " 2 whilst later still, when
new foundations of English religious life were being laid
in foreign countries, two of Abbot Whiting's nieces be-
came postulants for the veil in the English Franciscan
house at Bruges.3
Nothing is known for certain about the childhood and
youth of Richard Whiting; but it may be safely con-
jectured that he received his early education and train-
ing within the walls of his future monastic home. The
antiquary Hearne says that " the monks of Glastonbury
kept a free school, where poor men's sons were bred up,
as well as gentlemen's, and were fitted for the univer-
sities." ' And some curious legal proceedings, which in-
volved an inquiry as to the Carthusian martyr, blessed
Richard Bere, reveal the fact that, as a boy, he had been
1 Reg. Beckington, f. 311.
2 R. O. Chanc, Inq. post mortem.
3 Oliver, Collections illustrating the History of the Catholic
Religion, p. 135. This house returned to England on the French
Revolution, and the high esteem with which it was regarded by
English Catholics, persecuted at home or exiles abroad, still attends
this venerable community, now established at Taunton.
1 History of Glastonbury, preface.
io THE LAST ARBOT OF GLASTONBURY
" brought up at the charges of his uncle," Abbot Bere,
in the Glastonbury school. The pleadings show that
Richard Bere was probably the son of one of the tenants
of the abbey lands, and among those who testify to the
fact of his having been a boy in the school were
" Nicholas Roe, of Glastonbury, gent," and "John Fox,
of Glastonbury, yeoman," both of whom had been his
fellow scholars " in the said abbey together," ' and
Thomas Penny, formerly Abbot Bere's servant, who
spoke to the nephew Richard as having been in the
school at the monastery, whence, as he remembered, he
afterwards proceeded to Oxford. What is thus known,
almost by accident, about the early education of the
martyred Carthusian, may with fair certainty be inferred
in the case of Richard Whiting. The boy's training in
the claustral school was succeeded by the discipline of
the monastic novitiate: and it was doubtless in early
youth, as was then the custom, that he joined the com-
munity of the great Benedictine monastery of the west
country.
Glastonbury, with its long, unbroken history, had had
its days of prosperity and its days of trouble, its periods
of laxity and days of recovery, and when Whiting first
took the monastic habit report did not speak too well of
the state of the establishment. John Selwood, the abbot,
had held the office since 1457, and under his rule, owing,
probably in some measure at least, to the demoralising
influence of the constant civil commotions, discipline
grew slack and the good name of the abbey had suf-
fered. But it would seem that, as is so often the case,
rumour with its many tongues had exaggerated the dis-
orders, since after a careful examination carried out
1 Downside Review, vol. ix (1890), p. 162.
RICHARD WHITING it
under Bishop Stillington's orders by four ecclesiastics
unconnected with the diocese, no stringent injunctions
were apparently imposed, and Abbot Selwood continued
to rule the house for another twenty years.
From Glastonbury Whiting was sent to Cambridge,1
to complete his education, and his name appears amongst
those who took their M.A. degree in 1483.2 About the
same time the register of the university records the well-
known names of Richard Reynolds, the Bridgettine
priest of Syon, of John Houghton and William Exmew,
both Carthusians, and all three afterwards noble martyrs
in the cause of Catholic unity, for which Whiting was
also later called upon to sacrifice his life. The blessed
John Fisher also, although no longer a student, still re-
mained in close connection with the university, when
Richard Whiting came up from Glastonbury to Cam-
bridge.
After taking his degree the young Benedictine monk-
returned to his monastery, and there probably would
have been occupied in teaching. For this work his pre-
vious training and his stay at the university in prepara-
tion for his degree in Arts, would have specially qualified
him, and in all probability he was thus engaged till his
1 Probably to " Monks' College." Speed, speaking of Magdalen
College, Cambridge, says it "was first an hall inhabited by monks
of divers monasteries, and therefore heretofore called Monks'
College, sent hither from their abbies to the universitie to studye.
Edward Stafford, last Duke of Buckingham, &c, bestowed much
cost in the repair of it, and in 15 19 . ... new built the hall, where-
upon for a time it was called Buckingham College ; but the Duke
being shortly after attainted, the buildings were left imperfect, con-
tinuing a place for monks to study in, until the general suppression
of monasteries by King Henry VIII." — Speed, History of Great
Britain, 1632, p. 1053.
2 Cooper, At hence Caniabrigienses, p. 71.
12 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
ordination to the priesthood, some fifteen years later.
During this period one or two events of importance to
the monks of the abbey may be briefly noted.
In 1493, John Selwood, who had been abbot for thirty-
six years, died. The monks having obtained the king's
leave to proceed with the election of a successor,1 met
for the purpose, and made their choice, without appar-
ently having previously obtained the usual approval of
the bishop of the diocese. This neglect was caused pos-
sibly by their ignorance of the forms of procedure, as so
long a time had intervened since the last election. It
may be also that in the long continued absence of the
Bishop of Bath and Wells from his See they overlooked
this form. Be this as it may, Bishop Fox, then the
occupant of the See, on hearing of the election of John
Wasyn without his approval, applied to the king for per-
mission to cancel the election. This having been granted,
he successfully claimed the right to nominate to the
office, and on 20th January, 1494, by his commissary,
Dr. Richard Nicke, Canon of Wells, and afterwards
Bishop of Norwich, he installed Richard Bere in the
abbatial chair of Glastonbury.'2
In the fourth year of this abbot's rule, Somerset and
the neighbourhood of Glastonbury were disturbed by the
passage of armed men — insurgents against the authority
of King Henry VII and the royal troops sent against
them — which must have sadly broken in upon the quiet
of the monastic life. In the early summer of 1497 the
Cornish rebels who had risen in resistance to the heavy
taxation of Henry, passed through Glastonbury and
Wells on their way to London. Their number was
1 Pat. Rot., 8 Henry VII, p. 2, m. 11.
2 Reg. Fox Bath et Wellen, f. 48. Pat. Rot., 9 Henry VII, 26.
NORMAN DOORWAY OF ST. MARYS
CHAPEL
EXTERIOR OF ST. MARY'S CHAPEL (COMMONLY CALLED ST. JOSEPH'S)
COVERING THE SITE OF THE OLD BRITISH CHURCH AND FORM-
ING THE ATRIUM OF THE MONASTIC CHURCH
[To face p. 12
RICHARD WHITING 13
estimated at from six to fifteen thousand, and the
country for miles around was at night lighted up by
their camp fires. Their poverty was dire, their need
most urgent, and although it is recorded that no act of
violence or pillage was perpetrated by this undisciplined
band, still their support was a burden on the religious
houses and the people of the districts through which they
passed.
Hardly had this rising been suppressed than Somerset
was again involved in civil commotions. Early in the
autumn of 1497 Perkin Warbeck assembled his rabble
forces — " howbeit, they were poor and naked " ' — round
Taunton, and on the 21st September the advanced
guard of the king's army arrived at Glastonbury, and
was sheltered in the monastery and its dependencies.
The same night the adventurer fled to sanctuary, leaving
his 8,000 followers to their own devices ; and on the
29th of this same month Henry himself reached Bath
and moved forward at once to join his other forces at
Wells and Glastonbury. With him came Bishop Oliver
King, who, although he had held the See of Bath and
Wells for three years, had never yet visited his cathedral
city, and who now hurried on before his royal master to
be enthroned as bishop a few hours before he in that
capacity took part in the reception of the king. Henry
had with him some 30,000 men, when on St. Jerome's
day he entered Wells, and took up his lodgings with
Dr. Cunthorpe in the Deanery.2 The following day,
Sunday, October 1, was spent at Wells, where the king
attended in the Cathedral at a solemn Te Deum in
thanksgiving for his bloodless victory. Early on the
1 B. Mus. Cott. MS. Vit. A. xvi, f. 166b.
a Historical MSS. Report, i, p. 107.
14 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
Monday he passed on to Glastonbury, and was lodged
by Abbot Bere within the precincts of the monastery.
The abbey was then at the height of its glory, for
Bere was in every way fitted for the position to which
the choice of Fox had elevated him. A witness in the
trial spoken of above describes Abbot Bere as " a grave,
wise and discreet man, just and upright in all his ways,
and for so accounted of almost all sorts of people."
Another deposes that he " was good, honest, virtuous,
wise and discreet, as well as a grave man, and for those
virtues esteemed in as great reputation as few of his coat
and calling in England at that time were better ac-
counted of." ' On the interior discipline and the exterior
administration of his house alike he bestowed a watchful
care, and under his prudent administration the monastic
buildings and church received many useful and costly
additions. At great expense he built the suite of
rooms afterwards known as " the King's lodgings," and
added more than one chapel to the time-honoured
sanctuary of Glastonbury. At the west end of the town
he built the Church of St. Benen, now commonly known
as St. Benedict's, which bears in every portion of the
structure his rebus. His care for the poor was mani-
fested by the almshouses he established, and the thought
he bestowed on the prudent ordering of the lowly spital
of St. Margaret's, Taunton. Beyond this, Bere was a
learned man, as well as a careful administrator, and even
Erasmus submitted to his judgment. In a letter written
a few years after this abbot's death this great scholar
records how he had long known the reputation of the
Abbot of Glastonbury. His bosom friend, Richard Pace,
the well-known ambassador of Wolsey in many difficult
1 Downside Review ', ut sup., p. 160.
RICHARD WHITING 15
negotiations, had told him how to Berc's liberality he
owed his education, and his success in life to the abbot's
judicious guidance. For this reason, Erasmus, who had
made a translation of the sacred Scriptures from the
Greek, which he thought showed a " more polished
style " than St. Jerome's version, submitted his work to
the judgment of the abbot. Bere opposed the publica-
tion, and Erasmus bowed to the abbot's opinion, which
in after years he acknowledged as correct.1 Henry the
Seventh, who ever delighted in the company of learned
men, must have been pleased with the entertainment he
received at Glastonbury, where the whole cost was borne
by the abbot.2 It is possible, by reason of the knowledge
the king then derived of the great abilities of Bere, that
six years afterwards, in 1503, he made choice of him to
carry the congratulations of England to Cardinal John
Angelo de Medicis, when he ascended the pontifical
throne as Pius IV.
The troubles of Somerset did not end with the retire-
ment of the royal troops. Though the country did not
rise in support of the Cornish movement, it appears to
have somewhat sympathised with it, and at Wells Lord
Audley joined the insurgents as their leader. For this
sympathy Henry made them pay; and the rebels' line of
march can be traced by the record of the heavy fines
levied upon those who had been supposed to have
" aided and comforted " them. Sir Amyas Paulet — the
first Paulet of Hinton St. George — was one of the com-
missioners sent to exact this pecuniary punishment, and
1 Ep. lib. xviii, 46; Warner, G/asfonfruty, p. 213.
2 The Wardrobe accounts show that while the king had to pay
somewhat heavily for his stay at Wells, his entertainment at Glaston-
bury cost nothing.
16 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
from his record it would appear that nearly all in Somer-
set were fined. The abbots of Ford and Cleeve, of
Muchelney and Athelney, with others, had extended
their charity to the starving insurgents, and Sir Amyas
made them pay somewhat smartly for their pity. Some-
how Glastonbury appears to have escaped the general
penalty; probably the abbot's entertainment of the king
saved the abbey, although some of the townsfolk did not
escape the fine.1 This severe treatment must have had
more than a passing effect. The generation living at the
time of the suppression of the abbey could well remem-
ber the event. They knew well what was the meaning
of the heavy hand of a king, and had felt at their own
hearths what were the ravages of an army. This may go
far to explain how it happened that in Somersetshire
there was no Pilgrimage of Grace.
Meantime Richard Whiting had witnessed these
troubles, which came so near home, from the seclusion of
the monastic enclosure in which he had been preparing
for the reception of sacred orders. The Bishop of Bath
and Wells, Oliver King, had not remained in his diocese
after the public reception of Henry. He was much en-
gaged in the secular affairs of the kingdom, and his
episcopal functions were relegated to the care of a suf-
fragan, Thomas Cornish, titular Bishop of Tinos, also at
this time Vicar of St. Cuthbert's, Wells, and Chancellor
of the Diocese. From the hands of this prelate Dom
Richard Whiting received the minor order of acolyte in
the month of September, 1498. In the two succeeding
years he was made sub-deacon and deacon, and on the
6th March, 1501, he was elevated to the sacred order of
1 R. O. Chapter House, Misc. Box, 152, No. 24. See also Somerset
Archceological Society, 1879, P- 7°-
RICHARD WHITING ELECTED ABBOT 17
the priesthood.' The ordination was held in Wells by
Bishop Cornish in the chapel of the Blessed Virgin, by
the cathedral cloisters — a chapel long since destroyed,
and the foundations of which have in recent years been
discovered.
For the next five and twenty years we know very
little about Richard Whiting. It is more than probable
that his life was passed entirely in the seclusion of the
cloister and in the exercise of the duties imposed upon
him by obedience, In 1505, the register of the Univer-
sity of Cambridge shows that he returned there, and
took his final degree as Doctor in Theology. In his
monastery he held the office of " Camerarius," or Cham-
berlain, which would give him the care of the dormitory,
lavatory, and wardrobe of the community, and place him
over the numerous officials and servants necessary to
this office in so important and vast an establishment as
Glastonbury then was.
CHAPTER III
RICHARD WHITING ELECTED ABBOT
In the month of February, 1525, Abbot Bere died, after
worthily presiding over the monastery for more than
thirty years. A few days after his death, on the nth of
February, the monks in sacred orders, forty-seven in
number, met in the chapter house to elect a successor.
They were presided over by their Prior, Dom Henry
Coliner, and on his proposition it was agreed that five
1 Reg. O. King, Bath et Wellen Ed.
C
18 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
days were to be left for consideration and discussion,
and the final vote taken on the 16th. On that day, after
a solemn mass de Spiritu Sancto, the " great bell " of the
monastery called the monks into chapter. There the
proceedings were begun by the singing of the Veni
Creator with its versicle and prayer, and then Dom
Robert Clerk, the sacrist, read aloud the form of cita-
tion to all having a right to vote, followed by a roll call
of the names of the monks. The book of the Holy
Gospels was then carried round, and each in succession
laid his hand on the sacred page, kissed it, and swore to
make choice of him whom in conscience he thought
most worthy. After this, one Mr. William Benet, acting
as the canonical adviser of the community, read aloud
the constitution of the general council Quia propter, and
carefully explained the various methods of election to
the brethren. Then the religious with one mind deter-
mined to proceed by the method called " compromise "
{per formam compromissi), which placed the choice in
the hands of some individual of note, and unanimously
named Cardinal Wolsey to make choice of their abbot.
The following day the Prior wrote to the Cardinal of
York, begging him to accept the charge. Having ob-
tained the royal permission, and after having allowed a
fortnight to go by for inquiry and consideration, he, on
March 3rd,1 in his chapel at York Place, declared
Richard Whiting the object of his choice. The Cardinal's
commission to acquaint the brethren of his election was
handed to a deputation from the abbey consisting of
Dom John of Glastonbury, the cellarer, and Dom John
Benet, the sub-prior, and the document spoke in the
highest terms of Whiting. He was described, for ex-
1 Hearne, Adam de Dovierham, App. xcvii.
RICHARD WHITING ELECTED ABBOT 19
ample, as " an upright and religious monk, a provident
and discreet man, and a priest commendable for his life,
virtues and learning." He had shown himself, it declared,
" watchful and circumspect " in both spirituals and tem-
porals, and had proved that he possessed ability and
determination to uphold the rights of his monastery.1
This instrument, drawn up by a notary and signed by
the Cardinal and three witnesses, one of whom was the
blessed Thomas More, was handed to the two Glaston-
bury monks, who returned at once to their abbey.
They arrived there on the 8th of March, and met the
brethren in the chapter house, where they declared the
result of the Cardinal's deliberations. Then, at once,
Dom John of Taunton, the precentor, intoned the Te
Deum, and they wended their way, chanting the hymn
from the chapter to the church, leading the newly elect.
Meantime the news had spread throughout the town.
The people thronged into the church to hear the pro-
clamation, and as the procession of monks with Richard
Whiting came from the cloisters we can well picture the
scene. The nave of the mighty church was occupied by
" a vast multitude " eager to do honour to him who was
henceforth to be their temporal and spiritual lord and
father. The glorious sanctuary of Avalon, enriched
during ten centuries by the generous gifts of pious bene-
factors, had received new and costly adornments at the
hands of the abbot so lately gone to his reward. The
vaulting of the nave, which then rang with the voices of
the monks as they sang the hymn of praise, was one of
his latest works. The new-made openings in the wall
marked the places where stood King Edgar's Chapel,
and those of Our Lady of Loretto, and the Sepulchre,
1 Hearne, Adam de Domcrham, App. xcvii.
2o THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
more fitting monuments than was the plain marble slab
that marked his grave, of his love and veneration for the
ancient sanctuary of Glaston. And as the monks
grouped themselves within the choir, the eye, looking
through the screen which ran athwart the great chancel
arch — the porta cceli — would have seen the glitter of the
antependium of solid silver gilt studded with jewels,
with which the same generous hand had adorned the
high altar.
Into this noble sanctuary the people of Glaston
crowded on that March morning in the year 1525 to
hear what selection the great Cardinal had made. And
as the voices of the monks died away with the last
" Amen " to the prayer of thanksgiving to God for
mercies to their House, a notary public, at the request
of the Prior and his brethren, turned to the people, and
from off the steps of the great altar proclaimed in
English the due election of Brother Richard Whiting.
Then, as the people streamed forth from the church
bearing the news abroad, the monks returned to chapter
for the completion of the required formalities. And first,
the free consent of the elect himself had to be obtained,
and he as yet remained unwilling to take up the burden
of so high an office. He had betaken himself to the
guest-house, called the " hostrye," and thither Dom
William Walter and Dom John Winchcombe repaired,
as deputed by the rest, to win him to consent. At first
he determined to refuse, and then demanded time for
thought and prayer; but a few hours after, "being," as
he declared, " unwilling any longer to offer resistance to
what appeared the will of God," he yielded to their
solicitations and accepted the dignity and burden.
Then on Richard Whiting's acceptance being notified
RICHARD WHITING ELECTED ABBOT 21
to the Cardinal, he sent two commissioners to conduct
the required canonical investigations into the fitness of
the elect for the office. On 25th March these officials
arrived at the monastery, and early on the morning
following, the Prior and monks came in procession to
the conventual church ; in the presence of the Prior and
convent they made a general summons to all and any to
communicate to them any facts or circumstances which
should debar Whiting from being confirmed as abbot;
after this the like obligation was laid in chapter on the
monks. Once more, at noon, the decree was published
to a " great multitude " in the church, and afterwards
fixed against the great doors.
Three days later, as no one had appeared to object to
the election, the procurator of the abbot, Dom John of
Glastonbury, produced his witnesses as to age and
character. Amongst them was Sir Amyas Paulet, of
Hinton St. George, who declared that he had known
the elect for eight-and-twenty years, which was just the
time when Henry VII had visited Glastonbury, and Sir
Amyas had been occupied in extracting from the people
of Somerset the fines levied for their real or supposed
sympathy with Perkin Warbeck and his Cornish rebels.
The abbot's witnesses testified that he had always borne
the highest character, not only in Somerset, but else-
where beyond the limits of the diocese, and that none
had ever heard anything but good of him. One who so
testified was Dom Richard Beneall, who had been a
monk at Glastonbury for nineteen years, and who de-
clared that during all those years Richard Whiting had
been reputed a man of exemplary piety.
When this lengthy and strict scrutiny was finished
the Cardinal's commissioners declared the confirmation
22 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
of the elect. Then, after the usual oath of obedience to
the Bishop of the Diocese had been taken by the elect,
he received the solemn blessing in his own great abbey
church from Dr. William Gilbert, Abbot of Bruton and
Bishop of Mayo in Ireland, at that time acting as
suffragan to the Bishop of Bath and Wells.1
In the pages of ecclesiastical history Wolsey's name
meets with scant favour. Writers of all parties, whether
they look on him with friendly or unfriendly eye, have
little to say of his devotion to the best interests of the
Church. Whatever his defects, due credit has not been
given him for the real and enlightened care which he
bestowed on the true welfare of the religious orders.
For the Benedictines and Augustinians he designed,
and in part carried out, measures of renovation, the
fruits of which were already visible when Henry sup-
pressed the monastic houses. It is evident that he was
not content with general measures, but he fully ac-
quainted himself with details and with persons. The
election of Abbot Whiting is a casein point, and it is by
no means improbable that the keen eye of the eccle-
siastical statesman had marked him out at the general
chapter of the Benedictines at Westminster, over which
the great Cardinal had himself presided.
Thus was inaugurated the rule of the last abbot of
Glastonbury, amid the applause and goodwill of all who
knew him. Hitherto his life had been passed, as the life
of a monk should be, in seclusion and unknown to the
world at large. He had clearly not been one to seek for
power or expect preferment, and his election to the
abbacy of Glastonbury, though causing his name and
The account here given is from the official document in the
Register of Bishop Clerke.
RICHARD WHITING ELECTED ABBOT 23
fame to be spread wider, would after all, in the ordinary
course of events, have given him in the main a local
repute, and one of its nature destined, after life's day-
well spent in the peaceful government of his monastery,
to pass into oblivion. Of course his position as head of
one of the greatest of the parliamentary abbeys (if the
term may be used) obtained for him a place, and that no
undistinguished one, in the roll of peers and in the
House of Lords ; and thus he would be brought naturally
every year to the Court and the great deliberative
assembly of the realm. But this was not a sphere which
attracted a man of Whiting's temper and simple-minded
religious spirit. His place was more fittingly found
within his house, and in the neighbourhood which fell
within the direct range of his special and highest duties.
Here, then, he might have been best known and loved ;
and no further. But another lot was marked out for him
in the designs of God. His life was to end in the winning
of a favour greater than any which could be bestowed
by an earthly power, for the crown of martyrdom was
to be the reward of his devotion to daily duty. His
fidelity to his state and trust issued in a final act of
allegiance to Holy Church and to her earthly head
which causes his name to be known and revered through
all lands.
24 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
CHAPTER IV
TROUBLES IN CHURCH AND STATE
The rule of Abbot Whiting over the vast establishment
of .Glastonbury had to be exercised in difficult times.
Within a few months of his election Sir Thomas Boleyn
was created Viscount Rochford, and this marked the
first step in the king's illicit affection for the new peer's
daughter, Anne, and the beginning of troubles in Church
and State. For years of wavering counsels on the great
matter of Henry's desired divorce from Katherine led in
1529 to the humiliation and fall of the hitherto all-
powerful Cardinal of York.
Circumstances combined at this time to gather to-
gether in the social atmosphere elements fraught with
grave danger to the Church in England. The long and
deadly feud between the two " Roses " had swept away
the pride and flower of the old families of England. The
stability which the traditions and prudent counsels of an
ancient nobility give the ship of State, was gone when
it was most needed to enable it to weather the storm of
revolutionary ideas. Most of the new peers created in the
fifteenth and sixteenth centuries to take the place of the
old nobles had little sympathy, either by birth or in-
clination, with the traditions of the past. Many were
mere place-hunters, political adventurers, ready if not
eager to profit by any disturbance of the social order.
Self-interest prompted them to range themselves in the
restless ranks of the party of innovation. Those who
have nothing to lose are proverbially on the side of
TROUBLES IN CHURCH AND STATE 25
disorder and change. The " official,'' too, the special
creation of the Tudor monarchs, was by nature unsettled
and discontented, ever on the look-out for some lucky
chance of supplementing an inadequate pay. Success
in life depended, for men of this kind, on their attracting
to themselves the notice of their royal master, which
prompted them to compete one with the other in ful-
filling his wishes and satisfying his whims.1
At the head of all was Henry VIII, a king of un-
bridled desires, and one whose only code of right and
wrong was founded, at least in the second half of his
reign, on considerations of power to accomplish what he
wished. What he could do was the measure of what he
might lawfully attempt. Sir Thomas More, after he had
himself retired from office, in his warning to the rising
Crumwell, rightly gauged the king's character. " Mark,
Crumwell," he said, " you are now entered the service of
a most noble, wise, and liberal prince; if you will follow
my poor advice, you shall in your counsel given to His
Grace, ever tell him what he ought to do, but not what
he is able to do. For if a lion but knew his own strength,
hard were it for any man to rule him."
Nor, unfortunately, were the clergy of the time gener-
ally fitted to cope with the forces of revolution, or hold
back the rising tide of novelties. In the days when
might was right, and the force of arms the ruling
power of the world, the occupation of peace, to which
the clergy were bound, excited opposition from the
party who saw their opportunity in a disturbance of the
existing order. The bishops were, with some honourable
exceptions, chosen by royal favour rather than for a
spiritual qualification. However personally good they
1 See Friedmann, Anne Boleyn, i, p. 27, seqq.
26 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
may have been, they were not ideal pastors of their
flocks. Place-seeking, too, often kept many of the
lords spiritual at court, that they might gain or main-
tain influence sufficient to support their claims to further
preferment.
The occupation of bishops over-much in the affairs of
the nation, besides its evident effect on the state of
clerical discipline, had another result. It created in the
minds of the new nobility a jealous opposition to eccle-
siastics, and a readiness to humble the power of the
Church by passing measures in restraint of its ancient
liberties. The lay lords and hungry officials not un-
naturally looked upon this employment of clerics in the
intrigues of party politics, and in the wiles and crafty
business of foreign and domestic diplomacy, as trench-
ing upon their domain, and as thus keeping them out
of coveted preferment. Consequently, when occasion
offered, no great difficulty was experienced in inducing
them to turn against the clergy and thus enable Henry
to carry out his policy of coercive legislation in their
regard.
Five years after Abbot Whiting's election to rule over
Glastonbury the fall of Cardinal Wolsey opened the way
for the advancement of Thomas Crumwell, who may be
regarded as the chief political contriver of the change of
religion in England. On the fall of the old order he
built up his own fortune. For ten years England groaned
beneath his rule — in truth it was a reign of terror un-
paralleled in the history of the country. To power he
mounted, and in power he was maintained by showing
himself subservient to every whim of a monarch, the
strength of whose passions was only equalled by the
remorselessness and tenacity with which he pursued his
TROUBLES IN CHURCH AND STATE 27
aims. Crumwell fully understood, before entering on
his new service, what its conditions were, and neither
will nor ability was lacking to their fulfilment. Under
his management, at once skilful and unscrupulous,
Henry mastered the Parliament and paralysed the action
of Convocation, moulding them according to his royal
will and pleasure.
Having determined that the great matter of his
divorce from Katherine should be settled in his own
favour, he conceived the expedient of throwing off the
ecclesiastical authority of the pope over the nation and
constituting himself supreme head of the Church of
England. Though the clergy struggled for a time
against the royal determination, in the end they gave
way; and on November 3rd, 15 34, the" Act of Supremacy"
was hurried through Parliament, and a second statute
made it treason to deny this new royal prerogative.
The sequel is well known. The clergy caught in the
cunningly-contrived snare of premunire, and betrayed
by Cranmer, who, as Archbishop of Canterbury, had
inherited Warham's office, but not his spirit, were at the
king's mercy. With his hands upon their throats Henry
demanded what, in the quarrel with Rome, was, at the
time, a retaliation upon the pope for his refusal to accede
to the royal wishes, the acknowledgment of the king as
supreme head of the Church of England. Few among
English churchmen were found bold enough to resist
this direct demand, or who even, perhaps, recognised
how they were rejecting papal supremacy in matters
spiritual. As a rule, the required oath of royal supremacy
was apparently taken wherever it was tendered, and
the abbots and monks of Colchester, of Glastonbury,
and probably also of Reading, were no exception, and
28 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
on September 19th, 1534, Abbot Whiting and his com-
munity, fifty-one in number, attached their names to the
required declaration.1
It is easy, after this lapse of time, and in the light of
subsequent events, to pass censure on such compliance;
to wonder how throughout England the blessed John
Fisher and Thomas More, and the Observants, almost
alone, should have been found from the beginning neither
to hesitate nor to waver. It is easy to make light of the
shrinking of flesh and blood, easy to extol the palm of
martyrdom. But it is not difficult, too, to see how reasons
suggested themselves at least for temporising. To most
men at that date the possibility of a final separation
from Rome must have seemed incredible. They remem-
bered Henry in his earlier years, when he was never so
immersed in business or in pleasure that he did not hear
three or even five masses a day ; they did not know him
as Wolsey or Crumwell, or as More or Fisher knew him;
the project seemed a momentary aberration, under the
influence of evil passion or evil counsellors, and it was
on the king's part " but usurpation desiderated by flat-
tery and adulation;" these counsellors removed, all
would be well again. Henry had at bottom a zeal for
the Faith and would return by-and-by to a better
mind, a truer self, and would then come to terms with
the pope. The idea of the headship was not absolutely
new: it had in a measure been conceded some years
before, without, so far as appears, exciting remonstrance
from Rome. Beyond this, to many, the oath of royal
1 Deputy Keeper's Report, vii, p. 287. Mr. Devon, who drew up
the report, says : " The signatures, in my opinion, are not all auto-
graphs, but frequently in the same handwriting; and my impres-
sion is, that the writer of the deed often added many names."
TROUBLES IN CHURCH AND STATE 29
supremacy over the Church of England was never under-
stood as derogatory to the See of Rome. While even those
who had taken this oath were in many instances surprised
that it should be construed into any such hostility.1
However strained this temper of mind may appear to
us at this time, it undoubtedly existed. One example
may be here cited. Among the State Papers in the
Record Office for the year 1539 is a long harangue on
the execution of the three Benedictine abbots, in which
the writer refers to such a view:
" I cannot think the contrary," he writes, " but the old
bishop of London [Stokesley], when he was on live,
used the pretty medicine that his fellow, friar Forest,
was wont to use, and to work with an inward man and
an outward man ; that is to say, to speak one thing
with their mouth and then another thing with their
heart. Surely a very pretty medicine for popish hearts.
But it worked badly for some of their parts. Gentle
Hugh Cook [the abbot of Reading] by his own con-
fession used not the self-same medicine that friar Forest
used, but another much like unto it, which was this:
what time as the spiritualty were sworn to take the
king's grace for the supreme head, immediately next
under God of this Church of England, Hugh Cook re-
ceiving the same oath added prettily in his own con-
science these words following: ' of the temporal church,'
saith he, ' but not of the spiritual church.' " 2
1 Calendar, viii, Nos. 277, 3S7, etc., are instances of the temper
of mind described above. No. 387 especially is very significant as
showing the gloss men put on the supremacy oath, distinguishing
tacitly between Church of England and Catholic Church, and in
temporalibus, and in sftiritualibus.
1
R. O. State Papers, Uom., 1539, No. 207, p. 2
j-
30 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
Nor from another point of view is this want of appre-
ciation as to the true foundation of the papal primacy a
subject for unmixed astonishment. During the previous
half-century the popes had reigned in a court of un-
exampled splendour, but a splendour essentially mun-
dane. It was a dazzling sight, but all this outward
show made it difficult to recognise the divinely ordered
spiritual prerogatives which are the enduring heritage of
the successors of St. Peter.
The words of Cardinal Manning on this point may be
here quoted: — "It must not be forgotten that at this
time the minds of men had been so distracted by the
great western schism, by the frequent subtraction of
obedience, by the doubtful election of popes, and the
simultaneous existence of two or even three claimants
to the Holy See, that the supreme pontifical authority
had become a matter of academical discussion hincinde.
Nothing but such preludes could have instigated even
Gerson to write on the thesis de auferabilitate Papce.
This throws much light on the singular fact attested by
Sir Thomas More in speaking to the jury and the judge
by whom he was condemned, when the verdict of death
was brought in against him : ' I have, by the grace of
God, been always a Catholic, never out of communion
with the Roman Pontiff; but I have heard it said at
times that the authority of the Roman Pontiff was cer-
tainly lawful and to be respected, but still an authority
derived from human law, and not standing upo n a
divine prescription. Then, when I observed that public
affairs were so ordered that the sources of the power of
the Roman Pontiff would necessarily be examined, I
gave myself up to a most diligent examination of that
question for the space of seven years, and found that the
TROUBLES IN CHURCH AND STATE 31
authority of the Roman Pontiff, which you rashly — I
will not use stronger language — have set aside, is not
only lawful, to be respected, and necessary, but also
grounded on the divine law and prescription. That is
my opinion; that is the belief in which by the grace of
God, I shall die.' " '
The lofty terms expressive of papal prerogatives
might pass unquestioned in the schools and in common
speech in the world, but from this there is a wide step
to the apprehension, then none too common, of the living
truths they express, and a yet further step to that in-
tense personal realisation which makes those truths
dearer to a man than life.
To some, in Whiting's day, that realisation came
sooner, to some later. Some men, a few, seized at once
the point at issue and its full import, and were ready
with their answer without seeking or faltering. Others
answered to the call at the third, or even the eleventh
hour; the cause was the same, and so were the fate and
the reward, though to the late comer the respite may
perhaps have been only a prolongation of the agony.
It is of course impossible here to attempt even a
sketch of the train of events which led to the destruction
of Glastonbury and Abbot Whiting's martyrdom. The
suppression of the monasteries has been described as
simply " an enormous scheme for filling the royal purse." a
As his guilty passion for Anne Boleyn is the key to half
1 Dublin Review, January, 1888, p. 245.
2 Dixon, History of the Church of England, i, p. 456. The last
Abbot of Colchester, John Beche alias Marshal, is reported to
Crumwell as saying: "The king and his council are drawn into
such an inordinate covetousness that if all the water in the Thames
were flowing gold and silver, it were not able to slake their covetous-
ness." (R. O. State Papers, 1539, No. 207.)
32 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
of the extraordinary acts of the succeeding years of
Henry's reign, so is the need of money to gratify his
other appetites the key to the rest. From the seizure of
the first of the lesser religious houses to the fall of
Glastonbury, the greatest and most magnificent of them
all, gain was the one thought of the king's heart. To
this end every engine was devised, conscience was trod-
den under foot, and blood was spilled.
With the evident design of obtaining a pretext for
falling on the religious houses, the oath of supremacy
in an amplified form was tendered to their inmates.1
" There was presented to them," writes a recent his-
torian, " a far more severe and explicit form of oath than
that which More and Fisher had refused, than that
which the Houses of Parliament and the secular clergy
had consented to take. They were required to swear, not
only that the chaste and holy marriage between Henry
and Anne was just and legitimate, and the succession
good in their offspring," but " also that they would ever
hold the king to be head of the Church of England, that
the Bishop of Rome, who in his bulls usurped the name
of Pope and arrogated to himself the primacy of the
most High Pontiff, had no more authority and juris-
diction than other bishops of England or elsewhere in
their dioceses, and that they would for ever renounce the
laws, decrees and canons of the Bishop of Rome, if any
of them should be found contrary to the law of God and
Holy Scripture." 2 This scheme failed, " for the oath was
taken in almost every chapter-house where it was ten-
dered."
1 Dixon, History of the Church of England, i, p. 213.
2 Ibid., p. 21 1.
RICHARD WHITING AS ABBOT 33
CHAPTER V
RICHARD WHITING AS ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
The first years of Abbot Whiting's rule passed smoothly
so far as the acts of his administration and his life at
Glastonbury were concerned. He had of course to meet
the troubles and trials incidental to a position such as
was his. Moreover, for one who by his high office was
called on to take a part, in some measure at least, in the
great world of politics and public life, it could not be
but that his soul must have been disturbed by anticipa-
tions of difficulties, even of dangers, in the not very dis-
tant future. Still, his own home was so far removed from
the turmoils of the court and the ominous rumblings of
the coming storm that he was able to rule it in peace.
Discipline well maintained, a prudent and successful ad-
ministration of temporals, and kindly relations with his
neighbours, high and low, were certain evidences that
the government of Abbot Richard Whiting was happy
and prosperous. Under such circumstances the position
which he occupied as a peer of Parliament and as master
of great estates was one which, as the world might say,
even from its point of view, was eminently enviable.
It is somewhat difficult in these days to form a just
and adequate idea of the place held in the country by
one who filled the abbatial chair of Glastonbury. For
wealth and consideration, though not indeed for pre-
cedence, it may not unjustly be described as the most
desirable ecclesiastical preferment in England. The re-
venues of the abbey exceeded those of the archbishopric
D
34 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
of Canterbury itself, whilst, although the abbot had to
maintain a large community and a great household, still
he was exempt from the vast burdens necessarily en-
tailed on so lofty a position as that of Primate of Eng-
land, who was LegaUis natus of the Holy See and often
a Cardinal. The annual value of the endowments of
Westminster was, it is true, slightly greater, but the
ecclesiastical position of an abbot of that royal monas-
tery was singularly diminished by the presence in his
near neighbourhood of two such great churchmen as the
Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London,
whilst in its worldly aspect Westminster was overshad-
owed by the splendour of the regal court at its doors.
Glastonbury in the sixteenth century had no rival in its
own district; the day was past when the aspiring Church
of Wells could raise pretensions on that score. In the
west country there was neither prince nor prelate, cer-
tainly since the fall of the Duke of Buckingham, to
compare in position, all considered, with the Abbot of
Glastonbury.
But withal there existed in the court of the abbot, for
his household was regulated like that of a court, a sim-
plicity befitting the monastic profession. His own house
was large, its rooms were stately, but it did not pretend
to the dimensions of a palace. He had a body of gentry
to wait upon him and grace the hospitality he was ready
to show to visitors the most distinguished and to the
poorer classes who thronged the monastic guest-hall.
I o the great gate of the abbey, every Wednesday and
Friday, the poor flocked for relief in their necessities,
and as many as five hundred persons are said to have
been entertained at times at the abbot's table. Still, a
combined simplicity and stateliness characterised the
RICHARD WHITING AS ABBOT 35
whole rule of Abbot Whiting, and it is no wonder that,
as we are told, during his abbacy some three or four
hundred youths of gentle birth received their first train-
ing in the abbot's quarters.
It may be asked by some how in such a position as
this, surrounded by all the world most ambitions, Abbot
Whiting could still be a monk. The position was not of
his making; he found it. But that he should ever remain
a monk, that, as abbot, he should be a true guardian of
the souls committed to him, the true father and pattern
of his spiritual children, that was by God's grace still in
his power. That he was all this, his very enemies have
testified, and the explanation is simple. Raised to rule
and command at an age when, as he knew, the grave
could not be far distant, he was already a monk trained,
disciplined, perfected in outward habit and in the pos-
session of his soul by his long course of obedience.
Tradition, which is often so true in matters of small
moment, more than a century and a half after his death,
still pointed out among the ruins of his house, in the
abbot's simple chamber, Abbot Whiting's bed. It was
" without tester or post, was boarded at bottom, and had
a board nailed shelving at the head." This bedstead,
according to the tradition of the place, was the same
that Abbot Whiting lay on, and " I was desired," writes
the visitor who describes it, " to observe it as a curiosity."
The existence of the tradition is proof at least of an
abiding belief, on the spot, in the simplicity of life of
the last lord of that glorious pile, the vast ruins of
which were evidence of the greatness of the monastery.
It was possible even for an Abbot of Glastonbury to
preserve the true spirit of poverty, and this was the
secret of that excellent discipline which Dr. Layton to
36 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
his bitter disappointment found to exist at Glastonbury.
The abbot practised first what, as his duty imposed, he
required from those entrusted to his care, that is, from
his spiritual children, the monks of his house.
It was during these comparatively peaceful and happy
times that Leland, the antiquary, on his journey through
England in search of antiquities, and especially manu-
scripts, visited the abbey. He was introduced to the
library by Abbot Whiting in person, " a man truly up-
right and of spotless life and my sincere friend " as he
calls him.1 He was filled with amazement at the treasures
contained in the Glastonbury library. " No sooner did
I pass the threshold," he writes, " than I was struck with
awe and astonishment at the mere sight of so many
remains of antiquity." He considered that the library
had scarce any equal in all England, and spent some
days in examining the shelves and the many wonderful
manuscripts he found there.
With the conclusion of Henry's divorce case came the
end of these peaceful years of Abbot Whiting's rule.
Now began the anxious days which were to end for
him in the death of the traitor, so far at least as the
king's power could extend in death.
Within a year from the general oath-taking through-
out England, and its failure to bring about the hoped-
1 Hearne, History of Glastonbury, p. 67 ; cf Walcott's English
Minsters, ii, 129. Leland spoke of Abbot Whiting as "homo sane
candidissimus et amicus meus singularis," and " though," says
Warner {History of Glastonbury, p. 219) " the too cautious antiquary
in after times passed his pen through this language of praise and
kindness, lest it should be offensive to his contemporaries, yet
happily for the abbot's fame the tribute is still legible and will
remain for ages a sufficient evidence of the sacrifice of a guileless
victim to the tyranny of a second Ahab."
RICHARD WHITING AS ABBOT 37
for result, Crumwell, ever fertile in expedients, had or-
ganised a general visitation of religious houses. The
instruments he made choice of to conduct this scrutiny,
and the methods they employed, leave no doubt that
the real object was the destruction of the monasteries
under the cloak of reformation. The injunctions are
minute and exacting; in detail many were excellent;
as a whole, even in the hands of persons sincerely de-
sirous of maintaining discipline and observance, they
were unworkable. In the hands of Crumwell's agents
they were, as they were designed to be, intolerable. It
was rightly calculated that under the pretence of restor-
ing discipline they strike at the authority of religious
superiors by the encouragement given to a system of
tale-bearing. By other provisions the monasteries were,
with show of zeal for religion, turned into prisons and
reduced, if it were possible, to such abodes of misery
and unhappiness as the uninformed Protestant imagina-
tion pictures them to be.1 The moral of this treatment
is summed up by John ap-Rice and Thomas Legh, two
of the royal visitors, in a letter to Crumwell :
" By this ye may see [they write] that they [the re-
ligious] shall not need to be put forth, but that they will
make instant suit themselves, so that their doing shall
be imputed to themselves and no other. Although I
reckon it well done that all were out, yet I think it were
best that at their own suits they might be dismissed to
avoid calumniation and envy,2 and so compelling them to
obsei~ve these injunctions ye shall have them all to do
shortly, and the people shall know it the better that it
1 He?iry VIII and the English Monasteries, i, chapter vii, " The
Visitation of the Monasteries in 1535-6." Dixon, vol. i, p. 357.
'■' He means invidia, i.e., public odium.
43 16
38 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
cometh upon their suit, if they be not discharged straight
while we be here, for then the people would say that
we went for nothing else, even though the truth were
contrary." '
Armed with a commission to visit and enforce the
injunctions, Dr. Richard Layton, the most foul-mouthed
and foul-minded ribald of them all, as his own letters
testify, came to Glastonbury on Saturday, August 21st,
1535. From St. Augustine's, Bristol, whither he departed
on the following Monday, he wrote to Crumwell a letter
showing that even he, chief among a crew who " could
ask unmoved such questions as no other human being
could have imagined or known how to put, who could
extract guilt from a stammer, a tremble or a blush, or
even from indignant silence as surely as from open con-
fession " 2 — even Layton retired baffled from Glaston-
bury under the venerable Abbot Whiting's rule, though
he covered his defeat with impudence unabashed. "At
Bruton and Glastonbury," he explains, " there is nothing
notable; the brethren be so straight kept that they can-
not offend : but fain they would if they might, as they
confess, and so the fault is not with them."
At this period it would seem that Richard Layton
1 Gairdner, Calendar of Papers Foreign and Domestic, ix, No. 708.
See also Hetiry VIII and the English Monasteries, i, p. 257.
2 Dixon, i, p. 357.
3 Wright, The Suppression of the Monasteries, p. 59. Godwin,
the Protestant Bishop of Hereford, says that the monks, " following
the example of the ancient fathers, lived apart from the world
religiously and in peace, eschewing worldly employments, and
wholly given to study and contemplation ; " and the editor of Sander,
writing when the memory of the life led at Glastonbury was still
fresh in men's minds, says that the religious were noted for their
maintenance of common life, choral observance, and enclosure.
RICHARD WHITING AS ABBOT 39
also spoke to the king in praise of Abbot Whiting. For
this error of judgment, when some time later Crumwell
had assured himself of the abbot's temper, he was forced
to sue for pardon from both king and minister. "I must
therefore," he writes, " now in this my necessity most
humbly beseech your lordship to pardon me for that
my folly then committed, as ye have done many times
before, and of your goodness to instigate the king's
highness majesty, in the premises." 1
Hardly had the royal inquisitor departed than it was
found at Glastonbury, as elsewhere, that the injunctions
were not merely impracticable, but subversive of the
first principles of religious discipline. Abbot Whiting,
like so many religious superiors at this time, petitioned
for some mitigation. Nicholas Fitzjames,2 a neighbour,
dispatched an earnest letter to Crumwell in support of
the abbot's petition.
" I have spoken," he writes, " with my Lord Abbot of
Glastonbury concerning such injunctions as were given
him and his convent by your deputy at the last visita-
tion there. . . . To inform your mastership of the truth
there be certain officers — brothers of the house — who
have always been attendant on the abbot, as his chap-
lain, steward, cellarer, and one or two officers more,
[who] if they should be bound to the first two articles,
it should much disappoint the order of the house, which
hath long been full honourable. Wherefore, if it may
please your said good mastership to license the abbot
to dispense with the first two articles, in my mind you
1 R. O. Crumwell Correspondence, vol. xx, No. 14.
■ Probably a relative of Chief Justice Fitzjames, and grandfather
of the first monk afterwards professed in the English Benedictine
monastery of St. Gregory's, Douay (now at Downside).
40 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
will do a very good deed, and I dare be surety he will
dispense with none but with such as shall be necessary.
. . . Other articles there are which they think very
straight, howbeit they will sue to your good mastership
for that at more leisure; and in the meantime I doubt
not they will keep as good religion as any house of that
Order within this realm." l
A month after this letter of Nicholas Fitzjames,
Abbot Whiting himself ventured to present a grievance
of another kind, affecting others than his community.
The recent suspension by royal authority of the juris-
diction exercised by the abbey over the town of Glas-
tonbury and its dependencies, had caused the gravest
inconveniences. There are many " poor people," he
writes, " who are waiting to have their causes tried,"
and he adds that he cannot believe that the king's
pleasure has been rightly stated in Doctor Layion's
orders.2 What the result of this application may have
been does not appear, but it was clearly the royal pur-
pose to let inconveniences be felt, not to remove them.
The proceedings taken in 1536 in regard to the sup-
pression of the lesser monasteries must have filled the
minds of men of Whiting's stamp with deep anxiety, as
revealing more and more clearly the settled purpose of
the king. " All the wealth of the world would not be
enough to satisfy and content his ambition," writes
Marillac, the French ambassador, to his master, Francis I.
To enrich himself he would not hesitate to ruin all his
subjects.3 The State papers of the period bear ample
1 Wright, Suppression of the Monasteries, p. 64.
2 R. O. Cnanwell Corr., xiii. f. 58.
'■'■ Inventaire atialytique. Correspondance politique de MM. Cas-
tillion el Marillac, 1537- 1542. Ed. J. Kaulek. No. 242.
RICHARD WHITING AS ABBOT 41
witness to the justice of this sweeping statement.1 The
monasteries which were yet allowed to stand were drained
of their resources by ever-increasing demands on the
part of Henry and his creatures. Farm after farm, manor
after manor was yielded up in compliance with requests
that were in reality demands. Pensions in ever-increas-
ing numbers were charged on monastic lands at the ask-
ing of those whom it was impossible to refuse.
Abbot Whiting was allowed no immunity from this
species of tyrannical oppression. The abbey, for instance,
had of its own free will granted to blessed Sir Thomas
More a corrody or annuity. On his disgrace Crumwell
urged the king's " pleasure and commandment " that
this annuity should be transferred to himself under the
convent seal. For a friend Crumwell asks (and for the
king's vicegerent to ask was to receive) " the advocation
of our parish church of Monketon, albeit that it was the
first time that ever such a grant was made." A further
request, for the living of Batcombe, Whiting was unable
to comply with, since another of the king's creatures
had been beforehand and secured the prize. In one
instance an office which Crumwell had already asked
for and obtained from the abbot, he a few months after
demands for his friend " Mr. Maurice Berkeley ; " and
because the place was already gone, he requests that the
abbot will in lieu thereof give the rents of "his farm at
Northwood Park." Abbot Whiting took an accurate
view of the situation : " If you request it, I must grant
it," he says; and adds, "I trust your servant will be
content with the park itself, and ask no more."
The extant letters of Abbot Whiting, for the most
1 The volumes of CrumwelPs correspondence in the Record
Office contain abundant evidence.
42 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
part answers to such like applications for offices or
benefices in his gift, are marked by a courteous considera-
tion and a readiness to comply up to the utmost limits
of the possible. It is, moreover, evident that he had an
intimate concern in all the details of the complex ad-
ministration of a monastery of such extent and import-
ance with its thousand interests, no less than a determin-
ing personal influence on the religious character of his
community; and that public calls were never allowed to
come between him and the primary and immediate duties
of the abbot. He is most at home in his own coun-
try, among his Somersetshire neighbours, and in the
"straight" charge of his spiritual children. Confident
too in the affection with which he was regarded by the
population, he had no scruples, whatever may have been
his mind in subscribing to the Supremacy declaration of
1534, in securing for his monks and his townsfolk in
his own abbey church the preaching of a doctrine by no
means in accord with the royal theories and wishes on
the subject. Thus on a Sunday in the middle of Feb-
ruary, 1536, a friar called John Brynstan, preaching in
the abbatial church at Glastonbury to the people of the
neighbourhood, said "he would be one of them that
should convert the new fangles and new men, otherwise
he would die in the quarrel." x
By chance a glimpse is afforded of the popular feeling
in the district by a letter addressed to Crumwell by one
of his agents, always ready to spy upon their neighbours
and report them to their master, in the hopes of gaining
thereby the good graces of the all-powerful minister.
Thomas Clarke writes that one John Tutton of Mere,
next Glaston, — now by the way safely lodged in gaol —
1 Calendar, x, 318.
RICHARD WHITING AS ABBOT 43
had used seditious words against the king and had spoken
great slander against Crumwell himself. The depositions
forwarded with this letter explain how Tutton had called
one Poole a heretic for working on St. Mark's day.
Poole had replied that so the king had ordered, and upon
this Tutton declared that they could not be bound to
keep the king's command " if it was nought, as this was,"
and he added that " Lord Crumwell was a stark heretic."
Nor did he stop here, for he continued in this strain ;
" Marry, many things be done by the king's Council
which I reckon he knoweth little of, but that by such
means he hath gathered great treasure together I wot
well ; there is a sort that ruleth the king of whom I trust
to see a day when they shall have less authority than
they have." l
Knowing doubtless what would be the nature of its
business, Abbot Whiting, excusing himself on the plea
of age and ill-health, did not attend the Parliament of
1 539, which, so far as it could do, sealed the fate of the
monasteries as yet unsuppressed. He awaited the end
on his own ground and in the midst of his own people.
He was still as solicitous about the smallest details of
his care as if the glorious abbey were to last in aevum.
Thus an interesting account of Abbot Whiting at Glaston-
bury is given in an official examination regarding some
debt, held a few years after the abbot's martyrdom. John
Watts, " late monk and chaplain to the abbot," said that
John Lyte, the supposed debtor, had paid the money
" in manner and form following. That is to say, he paid
£10 of the said £40 to the said abbot in the little parlour
upon the right hand within the great hall, the Friday
after New Year's Day before the said abbot was attainted.
1 Gairdner, Calendar, xi, No. 567.
44 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
The said payment was made in gold " in presence of the
witness and only one other: "for it was immediately
after the said abbot had dined, so that the abbot's gentle-
men and other servants were in the hall at dinner." Also
" upon St. Peter's day at midsummer, being a Sunday,
in the garden of the said abbot at Glastonbury, whilst
high Mass was singing," the debtor " made payment " of
the rest. " And at that time the abbot asked of the said
Master Lyte whether he would set up the said abbot's
arms in his new buildings that he had made. And the
said Master Lyte answered the said abbot that he would;
and so at that time the said abbot gave unto the said
Mr. Lyte eight angels nobles. And at the payment of
the £30 there was in the garden at that time the Lord
Stourton. I suppose," continues the witness, " that the
said Lord Stourton saw not the payment made to the
abbot, for the abbot got him into an arbour of bay in the
said garden and there received his money. And very
glad he was at that time that it was paid in gold for the
short telling, as also he would not, by his will, have it
seen at that time." 1 Thus too almost the last glimpse
afforded of the last Abbot of Glastonbury in his time-
honoured home shows him in friendly converse with his
near neighbour, Lord Stourton, who was the head of an
ancient race which popular tradition had justly linked
for centuries with the Benedictine order, and which even
in the darkest days of modern English Catholicity proved
itself a firm and hereditary friend.
1 R. O. Exch. Augt. Off. Misc. Bk., xxii, Nos. 13-18. In view of
the circumstances of the time it seems likely that the witness was
anxious to ward off any possibility of Lord Stourton being mixed
up in the affair. This anxiety to save friends from embarrassing
examinations is a very common feature in documents of this date.
RICHARD WHITING AS ABBOT 45
Before passing on to the closing acts of the venerable
abbot's life and to his martyrdom, it is necessary to
premise a few words on suppression in its legal aspect.
There seems to be abroad an impression that the mon-
asteries were all, in fact, dissolved by order of Parliament,
and accordingly that a refusal of surrender to the king,
such as is found at Glastonbury, was an act which, how-
ever morally justifiable as a refusal to betray a trust, and
even heroic when resistance entailed the last penalty,
was yet in defiance of the law of the land. And, to take
this particular case of Glastonbury, it is often stated, that
when insisting on its surrender the king was only re-
quiring that to be given up into his hands which Parlia-
ment had already conferred on him. However common
the impression, it is false. What the Act (27 Hen. VIII.,
cap. 28) of February, 1536, did was to give to the king
and his heirs such monasteries only as were under the
yearly value of £200, or such as should within a "year
next after the making of" the Act " be given or granted
to his majesty by any abbot," etc. So far, therefore, from
handing over to the king the property of all the monas-
teries, Parliament distinctly recognised, at least in the
case of all save the lesser religious houses, the rights of
their then owners, and contemplated their passing to the
king's hands only by the voluntary cession of the actual
possessors. How any surrender was to be brought about
was left to the king and Crumwell, and the minions on
whose devices there is no need to dwell. Before a recal-
citrant superior, who would yield neither to blandish-
ments, bribery nor threats, the king, so far as the Act
would help him, was powerless.
For this case, however, provision was made, though
but indirectly, in the Act of April, 1539 (31 Hen. VIII.,
46 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
cap. 1 3). This Act, which included a retrospective clause
covering the illegal suppression of the greater monas-
teries which had already passed into the king's hands,
granted to Henry all monasteries, etc., which shall here-
after happen to be dissolved, suppressed, renounced, re-
linquished, forfeited, given up or come unto the king's
highness. These terms seem wide enough, but there is also
an ominous parenthesis referring to such other religious
houses as " shall happen to come to the king's highness
by attainder or attainders of treason^ The clause did
not find its way into the Act unawares. It will be seen
that it was Crumwell's care how and in whose case the
clause should become operative. And with just so much
of countenance as is thus given him by the Act, with the
king to back him, the monasteries of Glastonbury, Read-
ing and Colchester, from which no surrender could be
obtained, " were, against every principle of received law,
held to fall by the attainder of their abbots for high
treason." '
The very existence of the clause is, moreover, evidence
that by this time Crumwell knew that among the supe-
riors of the few monasteries yet standing, there were
men with whom, if the king was not to be baulked of his
intent, the last conclusions would have to be tried. To
him the necessity would have been paramount, by every
means in his power, to sweep away what he rightly re-
garded as the strongholds of the papal power in the
1 Hallam, Constitutional Hist., i, 72. Harpsfield, Pretended
Divorce, ed. Pocock (Camden Society), p. 300, says: "Such as
would voluntarily give over were rewarded with large annual pen-
sions, and with other pleasures. Against some other there were
found quarrels, as against Hugh Farindon, Abbot of Reading . . .
against Richard Whiting, Abbot of Glaston, etc."
THE BEGINNING OF THE END 47
country, and to get rid of these " spies of the pope." '
Such unnatural enemies of their prince and gracious lord
would fittingly be first singled out, that their fate might
serve as a warning to other intending evil-doers. Per-
haps, too, Whiting's repute for blamelessness of life, the
discipline which he was known to maintain in his mon-
astery and his great territorial influence may all have
conduced to point him out as an eminently proper sub-
ject to proceed against, as tending to show the nation
that where the crime of resistance to the king's will was
concerned there could be no such thing as an extenu-
ating circumstance, no consideration which would avail
to mitigate the penalty.
CHAPTER VI
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
In the story of what follows we are continually ham-
pered by the singularly defective nature of the various
records relating to the closing years of Crumwell's ad-
ministration. We are therefore frequently left to supply
links by conjectures, but conjectures in which, from the
known facts and such documentary evidence as remains,
there is sufficient assurance of being in the main correct.
Already, in 1538, rumour had spoken of the coming
dissolution; and the fact that all over the country even
the greatest houses of religion, one after another, were
falling into the king's hands by surrender, voluntary or
enforced, tended to give colour to the current tales.
1 R. O., Crumwell Correspondence^ xv, No. 7.
48 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
Henry's agents, it is true, had endeavoured to dissemble
any royal intention of a general suppression of the
monastic body. They not only denied boldly and un-
blushingly that the king had any such design, but urged
upon Crumwell the advisability of putting a stop to the
persistent reports on this subject. The far-seeing minis-
ter, fully alive to the danger, drafted a letter to reassure
the religious superiors, and dispatched it probably in the
first instance to Glastonbury.1
" Albeit," this letter runs, " I doubt not but (having
not long since received the King's highness's letters
wherein his majesty signified to you that using your-
selves like his good and faithful subjects, his grace would
not in any wise interrupt you in your state and kind of
living; and that his pleasure therefore was that in case
any man should declare anything to the contrary you
should cause him to be apprehended and kept in sure
custody till further knowledge of his grace's pleasure),
you would so firmly repose yourself in the tenour of the
said letters as no man's words, nor any voluntary sur-
render made by any governor or company of any reli-
gious house since that time, shall put you in any doubt
or fear of suppression or change of your kind of life and
policy." The king, however, feels that there are people
who " upon any voluntary and frank surrender, would
persuade and blow abroad a general and violent sup-
pression ; " and, because some houses have lately been
1 The previous letter in the Cotton MS. Cleopatra E. iv. is
endorsed: "The mynute of a letter drawn by Mr. Moryson to
th'Abbot of Glastonbury." This endorsement is certainly wrong ;
but Mr. Gairdner {Calendar, xiii, No. 573 note) thinks the letters
may possibly have always been together and the endorsement refers
to the second.
THE BEGINNING OF THE END 49
surrendered, the king commands me to say " that unless
there had been overtures made by the said houses that
have resigned, his grace would never have received the
same, and his majesty intendeth not in any wise to
trouble you or to desire for the suppression of any house
that standeth, except they shall either desire of them-
selves with one whole consent to resign and forsake the
same, or else misuse themselves contrary to their alle-
giance." In this last case, the document concludes, they
shall lose " more than their houses and possessions, that
is, the loss also of their lives." Wherefore take care of
your houses and beware of spoiling them, like some have
done " who imagined they were going to be dissolved." '
This letter could scarcely have done much to reassure
Abbot Whiting as to the king's real intentions, in view
of the obvious facts which each day made them clearer.
By the beginning of 1539, Glastonbury was the only re-
ligious house left standing in the whole county of Som-
erset. Rumours must have reached the abbey of the fall
of Bath and Keynsham, shortly after the Christmas of
the previous year, and of strange methods to which
Crumwell's agents had resorted in order to gain posses-
sion of Hinton Charterhouse and Benedictine Athelney.
At the former, the determination of the monks to hold
to their house was apparently in the end broken down
by a resort to a rigid examination of the religious on
the dangerous royal-supremacy question, which resulted
in one of their number being put in prison for " affirming
the Bishop of Rome to be Vicar of Christ, and that he
ought to be taken for head of the Church." This of itself
must have prepared the mind of Abbot Whiting for the
final issue which would have to be faced.
1 B. Mus. Cotl. MS. Cleop. E. iv, f. 68.
E
5o THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
The short respite granted before conclusions were
tried with him, could have been to all at Glastonbury
little less than a long-drawn suspense, during which the
abbot possessed his soul in peace, attending cheerfully
to the daily calls of duty. They were left in no doubt
as to the real meaning of a dissolution and had witnessed
the immediate results which followed upon it. The rude
dismantling of churches and cloisters, the rapid sales of
vestments and other effects, the pulling down of the
lead from roofs and gutters, and the breaking up of bells
had gone on all around them ; whilst homeless monks
and the poor who had from time immemorial found re-
lief in their necessities at religious houses now swept
away must have all crowded to Glastonbury during the
last few months of its existence. For eleven weeks the
royal wreckers, like a swarm of locusts, wandered over
Somerset, " defacing, destroying, and prostrating the
churches, cloisters, belfreys, and other buildings of the
late monasteries ; " and the roads were worn with carts
carrying away the lead melted from the roofs, barrels of
broken bell-metal, and other plunder.
It was not till the autumn of the year 1539, that any
final steps began to be taken with regard to Glastonbury
and its venerable abbot. Among Crumwell's " remem-
brances," still extant in his own handwriting, of things
to do, or matters to speak about to the king, in the be-
ginning of September this year occurs the following:
" Item, for proceeding against the abbots of Reading,
Glaston and the other, in their own countries." ' From
this it is clear that some time between the passing of the
Act giving to the Crown the possession of all dissolved
or surrendered monasteries, which came into force in
1 B. Mus. Cott. MS. Titus, B. i, f. 446a.
THE BEGINNING OF THE END 51
April, 1 539, and the September of this year, these abbots
must have been sounded, and it had been found that
compliance in regard of a surrender was not to be ex-
pected.1 By the sixteenth of the latter month Crumwell's
design had been communicated to his familiar Layton,
and had elicited from him a reply in which he abjectly
asks pardon for having praised the abbot at the time of
the visitation. " The Abbot of Glastonbury," he adds,
" appeareth neither then nor now to have known God,
nor his prince, nor any part of a good Christian man's
religion." a
Three days later, on Friday, September 19th, the royal
commissioners, Layton, Pollard and Moyle, suddenly
arrived at Glastonbury about ten o'clock in the morning.
The abbot had not been warned of their intended visit,
and was then at his grange of Sharpham, about a mile
from the monastery. Thither they hurried " without de-
lay," and after telling him their purpose examined him
at once " upon certain articles, and for that his answer
1 In the spring of the year, Glastonbury, in common with other
churches in England, was relieved of what it pleased the king to
consider its " superfluous plate." Pollard, Tregonwell and Petre on
May 2nd, 1539, handed to Sir John Williams, the keeper of the
royal treasure-house, 493 ounces of gold, 16,000 ounces of gilt plate
and 28,700 ounces of parcel gilt and silver plate taken from the
monasteries in the west of England. In this amount was included
the superfluous plate of Glastonbury. Besides this weight of gold
and silver there were placed in the treasury "two collets of gold
wherein standeth two coarse emeralds ; a cross of silver gilt, garn-
ished with a great coarse emerald, two ' balaces ' and two sapphires,
lacking a knob at one of the ends of the same cross ; a superaltar
garnished with silver gilt and part gold, called the great sapphire
of Glastonbury ; a great piece of unicorn's horn, a piece of mother
of pearl like a shell, eight branches of coral " (Monastic Treasures,
Abbotsford Club, p. 24).
2 Ellis, Original Letters, 3rd Series, iii, p. 247.
52 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
was not then to our purpose," they say, " we advised him
to call to his remembrance that which he had forgotten,
and so declare the truth." ' Then they at once took him
back to the abbey, and when night came on proceeded
to search the abbot's papers and ransack his apartments
" for letters and books ; and found in his study, secretly
laid, as well a written book of arguments against the
divorce of the king's majesty and the lady dowager,
which we take to be a great matter, as also divers par-
dons, copies of bulls, and the counterfeit life of Thomas
Becket in print; but we could not," they write, "find
any letter that was material."
Furnished, however, with these pieces of evidence as
to the tendency of Whiting's mind, the inquisitors pro-
ceeded further to examine him concerning the " articles
received from your lordship " (Crumwell). In his an-
swers appeared, they considered " his cankered and
traitorous mind against the king's majesty and his suc-
cession." To these replies he signed his name, " and so
with as fair words as " they could, " being but a very
weak man and sickly," they forthwith sent him up to
London to the Tower, that Crumwell might examine
him for himself.
The rest of the letter is significant for the eventual
purpose they knew their master would regard as of
primary importance:
" As yet we have neither discharged servant nor
monk; but now, the abbot being gone, we will, with as
much celerity as we may, proceed to the dispatching of
them. We have in money ^300 and above; but the
certainty of plate and other stuff there as yet we know
1 The whole of this account is from the letter of the commis-
sioners to Crumwell, in Wright, p. 255.
THE BEGINNING OF THE END 53
not, for we have not had opportunity for the same;
whereof we shall ascertain your lordship so shortly as
we may. This is also to advertise your lordship that we
have found a fair chalice of gold, and divers other parcels
of plate, which the abbot had hid secretly from all such
commissioners as have been there in times past; and as
yet he knoweth not that we have found the same;
whereby we think that he thought to make his hand by
his untruth to his king's majesty."
A week later, on September 28th,1 they again write
to Crumwell that they " have daily found and tried out
both money and plate," hidden in secret places in the
abbey, and conveyed for safety to the country. They
could not tell him how much they had so far discovered,
but it was sufficient, they thought, to have " begun a
new abbey," and they concluded by asking what the
king wished to have done in respect of the two monks
who were the treasurers of the church, and the two lay
clerks of the sacristy, who were chiefly to be held re-
sponsible in the matter.
On the 2nd October the inquisitors write again to
their master to say that they have come to the know-
ledge of " divers and sundry treasons " committed by
Abbot Whiting, " the certainty whereof shall appear
unto your lordship in a book herein enclosed, with the
accusers' names put to the same, which we think to be
very high and rank treasons." The original letter, pre-
served in the Record Office, clearly shows by the creases
in the soiled yellow paper that some small book or
folded papers have been enclosed. Whatever it was, it
is no longer forthcoming. Just at the critical moment
we are again deprived, therefore, of a most interesting
1 Wright, p. 257.
54 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
and important source of information. In view, however,
of the common sufferings of these abbots, who were
dealt with together, the common fate which befell them,
and the common cause assigned by contemporary
writers for their death, — viz., their attainder " of high
treason for denying the king to be supreme head of the
Church," as Hall, the contemporary London lawyer
(who reports what must have been current in the
capital) phrases it — there can be no doubt that these
depositions were much of the same nature as those
made against Thomas Marshall, Abbot of Colchester, to
which subsequent reference will be made. It is certain
that with Abbot Whiting in the Tower and Crumwell's
commissioners engaged in " dispatching " the monks
" with as much celerity " as possible, Glastonbury was
already regarded as part of the royal possessions. Even
before any condemnation the matter is taken as settled,
and on October 24th, 1539, Pollard handed over to
the royal treasurer the riches still left at the abbey
as among the possessions of " attainted persons and
places." l
Whilst Layton and his fellows were rummaging at
Glastonbury, Abbot Whiting was safely lodged in the
Tower of London. There he was subjected to searching
examinations. A note in Crumwell's own hand, entered
in his "remembrances," says:
" Item. Certain persons to be sent to the Tower for
the further examination of the Abbot of Glaston." 2
At this time it was supposed that Parliament, which
1 Monastic Treasures (Abbotsford Club), p. 38. These consisted
of 71 oz. of gold with stones, 7,214 oz. of gilt plate, and 6,387 oz.
of silver.
2 B. Mus. Cott., MS. Titus, B. i, f. 441a.
THE PEGGED GRACE-CUP OF GLASTONBURY
ABBEY, NOW IN THE POSSESSION OF
LORD ARUXDELL OF WARDOUR
[To face p. 54
THE BEGINNING OF THE END 55
ought to have met on November 1st of this year, would
be called upon to consider the charges against the abbot.
At least Marillac, the French ambassador, who shows
that he was always well informed on public matters,
writes to his master that this is to be done. Even when
the assembly was delayed till the arrival of the king's
new wife, Ann of Cleves, the ambassador repeats that
the decision of Whiting's case will now be put off. He
adds that " they have found a manuscript in favour of
queen Catherine, and against the marriage of queen
Anne, who was afterwards beheaded," which is objected
against the abbot.1 Poor Catherine had been at rest in
her grave for four years, and her rival in the affections of
Henry had died on the scaffold nearly as many years,
before Layton and his fellow inquisitors found the
written book of arguments in Whiting's study, and
" took it to be a great matter " against him. It is hardly
likely that, even if more loyal to Catherine's memory
than there is any possible reason to suppose, Whiting
would stick at a point where More and Fisher could
yield, and would not have given his adhesion to the
succession as settled by Parliament. But as in their
case, it was the thorny questions which surrounded the
divorce, the subject all perilous of " treason," which
brought him at last, as it brought them first, to the
scaffold.
It is more than strange that the ordinary procedure
was not carried out in this case. According to all law,
Abbot Whiting and the Abbots of Reading and Col-
chester should have been arraigned before Parliament,
as they were members of the House of Peers, but no
such bill of attainder was ever presented, and in fact
1 Kaulek, Inventaire Analytiquc, ut sup, No. 161.
56 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
the execution had taken place before the Parliament
came together.1
The truth is, that Abbot Whiting and the others were
condemned to death as the result of secret inquisitions
in the Tower. Crumwell, acting as " prosecutor, judge
and jury," 2 had really arranged for their execution
before they left their prison. What happened in the
case of Abbot Whiting at Wells, and in that of Abbot
Cook at Reading, was but a ghastly mockery of justice,
enacted merely to cover the illegal and iniquitous pro-
ceedings which had condemned them untried. This
Crumwell has written down with his own hand. He
notes in his "remembrances":3 "Item. Councillors to
give evidence against the abbot of Glaston, Richard
Pollard, Lewis Forstell and Thomas Moyle. Item. To
see that the evidence be well sorted and the indictments
well drawn against the said abbots and their accom-
plices. Item. How the King's learned counsel shall be
with me all this day, for the full conclusion of the
indictments."
1 According to Wriothesley's Chronicle they were arraigned in
the " Counter." " Also in this month [November] the abbates of
Glastonburie, Reding and Colchester were arrayned in the Counter."
It is worthy of notice that whilst all trace or record of a trial has
disappeared, the legal records are explicit as to a point of fact. Of
course the king could only obtain the possessions of the monastery
by the attainder of the abbot for high treason, and accordingly the
official documents all speak of the attainder for high treason. For
instance L. T. R. Memoranda Roll, 32 Henry VIII, m. 2, has:
"Omnes libertates &c. dicti nuper abbatis Glaston sunt in manu
dicti Regis nunc ratione attincturae praefati abbatis qui nuper de
alta prodicione attinctus fuit." These presentments in the Counter
or at Wells were evidently empty shows, intended to impress the
populace.
- Froude, Hist., iii, p. 432.
1 B. Mus., Cott. MS., Titus, B. i, iT. 441 a and b.
THE BEGINNING OK THE END 57
And then, to sum up all: "Item. The Abbot of
Glaston to be tried at Glaston, and also executed there." '
As Crumwell was so solicitous about the fate of the
abbots as to devote the whole of one of his precious
days to the final settlement of their case, in later times
no less great was the solicitude of his panegyrist, Burnet,
to " discover the impudence of Sander " in saying they
suffered for denying the king's supremacy, and to prove
that they did not. Even at a time when records were
not so accessible as they now are, Collier, Burnet's con-
temporary, could see clearly enough where lay the truth.
" What the particulars were (of the abbots' attainder)
our learned church historian (Burnet) confesses 'he
can't tell ; for the record of their attainders is lost.' But,
as he goes on, ' some of our own writers (Hall, Grafton)
deserve a severe censure, who write it was for denying,
&c, the king's supremacy. Whereas, if they had not
undertaken to write the history without any information
at all, they must have seen that the whole clergy, and
especially the abbots, had over and over again acknow-
ledged the king's supremacy.' But how does it appear
our historians are mistaken? Has this gentleman seen
the Abbot of Colchester's indictment or perused his
record of attainder? He confesses no. How then is his
1 The following is a transcript of the passages contained in the
facsimile given on p. 59. " Item certayn persons to be sent to the
Towre for the further examenacyon of the abbot of Glaston. Item
letters to be sent with the copye of the judgement ageynst Sir John
Sayntlow's men for the rape and burgalrye don in Somersetshyre
unto lorde presedent Russell with a streyt commandement to pro-
cede to justyce. Item the abbot Redyng to be sent down to be
tryed and executyd at Reding with his complycys. Item the abbot
of Glaston to [be] tryed at Glaston and also executyd there with
his complycys."
58 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
censure made good? He offers no argument beyond
conjecture. He concludes the Abbot of Colchester had
formerly acknowledged the king's supremacy, and from
thence infers he could not suffer now for denying it.
But do not people's opinions alter sometimes, and con-
science and courage improve? Did not Bishop Fisher
and Cardinal Pool, at least as this author represents
them, acknowledge the king's supremacy at first? And
yet it is certain they afterwards showed themselves of
another mind to a very remarkable degree. . . . Farther,
does not himself tell us that many of the Carthusians
were executed for their open denying the king's
supremacy, and why then might not some of the abbots
have the same belief and fortitude with others of their
fraternity? " ' The real way of reaching them was
through conscience, a way which, as we have seen, had
just before been tried in the case of the Abbot Whiting's
near neighbours, the Carthusians of Hinton. " To reach
the abbots, therefore," continues Collier, " that other
way, the oath of supremacy, was offered them, and upon
their refusal they were condemned for high treason." 2
But amidst these cares Crumwell never forgot the
king's business, the " great matter," the end which this
iniquity was to compass. With the prize now fairly
within his grasp, he notes: " The plate of Glastonbury,
1 1, ooo ounces and over, besides golden. The furniture
of the house of Glaston. In ready money from Glaston,
.£1,100 and over. The rich copes from Glaston. The
whole year's revenue of Glaston. The debts of Glaston,
,£2,000 and above.3
1 Eccl. Hist., ii, 173. 2 Ibid., p. 164.
' B. Mus., Cott. MS., Titus B. i, f. 446 a. The debts named here
were evidently due to Glastonbury.
Facsimile of part of Crumwell's "Remembrances,"
Cotton MS., Titus B. i, f. 441a.
60 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
Layton has borne witness to the state of spirituals in
Glastonbury; Crumwell gives final testimony to the
abbot's good administration of temporals. The house by
this time had, according to CrumweH's construction, come
to the king's highness by attainder of treason. It re-
mained now to inaugurate the line of policy on which
Elizabeth improved later, and after, in the secret
tribunal of the Tower, condemning the abbot without
trial for cause of conscience in a sentence that involved
forfeiture of life and goods, to put him to death, so Lord
Russell says, as if for common felony, for the " robbing
of Glastonbury Church."
And now it only remains to follow the venerable man
on his pilgrimage to the scene of his martyrdom.1
As we have seen under Crumwell's hand, Abbot
Whiting's fate was already settled before he left the
Tower. In the interrogatories, preliminary but decisive,
1 The original edition of Sander simply says that the three abbots
and the two priests, Rugg and Onion, " ob negatam Henrici pon-
tificiam potestatem martyrii coronam adepti sunt." In the second
and later editions this is cut out, another reason is assigned for
their death, and an obviously legendary narrative about Whiting is
inserted in the text. It is impossible to credit many of these oft-
repeated statements. They seem to embody the gossip of half a
century later; in some points running near enough to the truth, in
others partaking of legend ; such as the sensational scene, wanting
alike in sense and probability, in the hall of the palace on the
abbot's arrival at Wells ; the assembly prepared to receive him, his
proceeding to take the place of honour among the first, the un-
expected summons to stand down and answer to the charge of
treason, the old man's wondering inquiry what this meant, the
whispered assurance that it was all a matter of form to strike terror
— into whom or wherefore the story does not tell. These and later
details are here entirely thrown aside, since they cannot be recon-
ciled with the official documents of the time and private letters of
the persons engaged in the act itself.
THE BEGINNING OF THE END 61
which he had there undergone, the abbot had come face
to face with the inevitable issue. He knew to what end
the way through the Tower had, from the time of More
and Fisher to his own hour, led those who had no other
satisfaction to give the king than that which he himself
could offer.
It is not impossible, however, that hopes may have
been held out to him that in his extreme old age and
weakness of body he might be spared extremities; this
supposition seems to receive some countenance from the
narrative given below. But Henry and Crumwell had
determined that Abbot Whiting should suffer before all
the world the last indignity. And they designed for him
the horrible death of a traitor in the sight of his own
subjects who had known and loved him for many years,
and on the scene of his own former greatness.
The following extract from an unknown but contem-
porary writer, in giving the only details of the journey
homeward that are known to exist, manifests the abbot's
characteristic simplicity and perfect possession of soul
in patience, together with a real sense of what the end
would certainly be:
" Going homewards to Glastonbury, the abbot had one
Pollard appointed to wait upon him, who was an especial
favourer of Crumwell, whom the abbot neither desired
to accompany him, neither yet dared to refuse him. At
the next bait, when the abbot went to wash, he desired
Mr. Pollard to tome wash with him, who by no means
would be entreated thereunto. The abbot seeing such
civility, mistrusted so much the more such courtesy was
not void of some subtility, and said unto him: "Mr.
Pollard, if you be to me a companion, I pray you wash
with me and sit down ; but if you be my keeper and 1
62 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
your prisoner, tell me plainly, that I may prepare my
mind to go to another room better fitting my fortunes.
And if you be neither, I shall be content to ride without
your company.' Whereupon Pollard protested that he
did forbear to do what the abbot desired him only in
respect of the reverence he bore his age and virtues, and
that he was appointed by those in authority to bear him
company of worship's sake, and therefore might not for-
sake him till he did see him safe at Glastonbury.
" Notwithstanding all this the abbot doubted some-
what, and told one (Thomas) Home, whom he had
brought up from a child, that he misdoubted (him)
somewhat, Judas having betrayed his master. And yet
though (Home) were both privy and plotter of his
master's fall, yet did he sweare most intolerably he knew
of no harm towards him, neither should any be done to
him as long as he was in his company; wishing besides
that the devil might have him if he were otherwise than
he told him. But before he came to Glastonbury, Home
forsook, and joined himself unto his enemies." 1
1 B. Mus. Sloane MS. 2495. The passage in the text is taken
from an early seventeenth-century life of Henry VIII. It is, how-
ever, a free translation of Arundel MS., 151, No. 62, which is a
hitherto unnoticed account of the divorce, written somewhere about
the year 1557, and dedicated to Philip and Mary. Some of the
details agree with those given about Whiting by Le Grand (Defense,
iii, p. 210), who may have drawn them from the same source.
THE MARTYRDOM 63
CHAPTER VII
THE MARTYRDOM
The venerable abbot thus journeyed home in the com-
pany of Pollard. It was this Pollard who had been
Crumwell's agent in sending him to the Tower, who had
weeks ago turned the monks out of the monastery and
had begun the wrecking of Glastonbury Abbey, a house,
which on his first arrival there he had described to his
employer as "great, goodly, and so princely that we
have not seen the like; " and in another letter he repeats
the same assurance, adding that " it is a house meet for
the king's majesty, and for no one else." '
Measures had already been taken to have all secure at
Wells, although Abbot Whiting had evidently been left
in ignorance of the fact that there was now no Glaston-
bury Abbey for him to return to. Crumwell's captive
reached Wells on Friday, November 14th, and once safely
brought back into his own country there was neither
delay nor dissembling. The plan devised was rushed
through without giving a soul among the unhappy actors
in the scene time to reflect upon what they were doing
— time to recover their better selves — time to avert the
guilt which in some measure must fall upon them. In
accordance with the wicked policy so often pursued in
Tudor times, a jury — the people themselves — were made
active agents in accomplishing the royal vengeance, the
execution of which had been already irrevocably settled
in London. John, Lord Russell, had for some time past
1 Wright, Suppression of the Monasteries, pp. 256, 258.
64 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
been superintending the necessary arrangements in the
county of Somerset itself. His business had been to get
together a jury which he could trust to do, or perhaps in
this case tacitly countenance, the king's will, and it was
one part of his care, when all was over, to send to Crum-
well their names with a view, doubtless, of securing their
due reward. Unfortunately, although Russell's letter is
preserved, the list enclosed has perished. But a letter
from Pollard to Crumwell gives the names of some who
distinguished themselves by their zeal, and who had
been " very diligent to serve the king at this time."
Among these, first of all is " my brother Paulet," for
whom is bespoken " the surveyorship of Glaston," with
the promise to Crumwell that " his lordship's goodness,"
showed in this matter, Paulet when he takes the prize
" shall recompense to his little power." Other diligent
persons whom Pollard specially names are John Syden-
ham and Thomas Horner, and finally Nicholas Fitzjames,
the same who, but a year or two before, had written to
Crumwell in Abbot Whiting's behalf.
As is well known from the history of the Pilgrimage
of Grace, jury-making had at this time been raised to an
art, — an art so exquisitely refined that it aimed at
making friends, kinsfolk, even brothers the accomplices
by word of mouth in the legal or illegal murders which
disgraced this reign. The minds of the men selected in
this case to register the decrees of the kingly omnipotence,
escape our means of inquiry, but Lord Russell has re-
corded "that they formed as worshipful a jury as were
found here these many years," and of this fact he
'' ensured " his " good lord " Crumwell.
Russell's care, moreover, had been diligently exer-
cised, not merely in assembling the jury, but in getting
r-
o
Z
o
c
THE MARTYRDOM 65
together an audience for the occasion. His efforts were
successful, for he gathered at Wells such a concourse of
people, that he was able to declare "there was never
seen in these parts so great appearance as were here at
this present time." He adds the assurance so tediously
common in documents of that pre-eminently courtly
age, that none had ever been seen "better willing to
serve the king." l
This was the scene which met Abbot Whiting's eyes
in Pollard's company as he entered the city of Wells,
where so often before he had been received as a venerated
and honoured guest. Unfortunately we have no direct
and continuous narrative of all that took place. If it was
dangerous to speak it was still more dangerous to write
in those days, except of course in one sense, — that which
was pleasing to the court. Fortunately two letters sur-
vive, written by the chief managers of the business,
John, Lord Russell, and Richard Pollard, one of the
"counsel" who had been engaged in the Tower with
Crumwell, for the careful drawing of the indictment
against the abbot. Both were written on the Sunday,
the day following the execution. An earlier letter by
Pollard, written on the day itself and evidently giving
more details, is wanting in the vast mass of Crumwell's
papers. This, the earliest news of the accomplishment
of the king's will, was not improbably taken by the ready
minister to the king himself and left with his majesty.
Fragmentary though the records that exist are, and only
giving- here a hint, there a mere outline of what took
place, without order and without sequence, they in this
form have a freshness and truthfulness which still enable
us to realise what actually took place.
1 Wright, Suppression of the Monasteries, p. 260.
F
66 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
On the abbot's arrival in the city of Wells, the busi-
ness was begun without waiting to give the condemned
man time for rest or for thought. Pollard was in charge
of the indictment, over which Crumwell had spent his
day, in the drafting of which so many counsel learned in
the law had exercised their ingenuity, and which was
the outcome of the secret examinations conducted dur-
ing the abbot's two months' imprisonment in the Tower.
But it was by no means intended that a drop of bitter-
ness in the cup should be spared him; every successive
stage of indignity was to be offered the venerable man
till his last breath, and then to his lifeless body. He was
to be struck in the house of his friends, and by his own
dependents. From out the crowd there came forward
new accusers, "his tenants and others," putting up "many
accusations for wrongs and injuries he had done them:"
not of course that it was in the least intended that there
should be time for enquiry into their truth; the mere
accusations were enough, and they were part of the
drama that had been elaborated with such care.
But this was not the only business of the day. The
venerable man was to be associated and numbered with
a rabble of common felons, and to stand in the same
rank with them. Together with the abbot of the great
monastery of Glastonbury there were a number of people
of the lowest class — how many we know not — who
were accused of " rape and burglary." " They were all
condemned," says Russell, and four of them " the next
day, if not the same day, put to execution at the place
of the act done, which is called the Mere, and there
adjudged to hang still in chains to the example of
others."
Of any verdict or of any condemnation of the abbot
THE MARTYRDOM 67
and of his two monks nothing is said by Russell or
Pollard, but they proceed at once to the execution.1
It is not impossible, seeing the rapid way in which
the whole business was carried through, that had the
scene of the so-called trial been Glastonbury in place of
Wells, the abbot would have met his fate and gained his
crown that very day. But the king and his faithful
minister, Crumwell, had devised in the town of Glaston-
bury a scene which was to be more impressive than that
which had taken place in the neighbouring city, more
calculated to strike terror into the hearts of the old man's
friends and followers.
After being pestered by Pollard with " divers articles
and interrogatories," the result of which was that he
would accuse no man but himself, nor " confess no more
gold nor silver, nor anything more than he did before
you [Crumwell] in the Tower," the next morning, Satur-
day, November 15th,2 the venerable abbot with his two
monks, John Thorne and Roger James, were delivered
over to the servants of Pollard for the performance of
what more had to be done. Under this escort they were
carried from Wells to Glastonbury. Arrived at the en-
trance of the town the abbot was made to dismount.
1 After a careful consideration of the evidence, my belief is that
there was no trial of the abbot and his two companions at Wells.
The sentence passed on them in London was probably published
to the jury there, but there is nothing to show that it was asked to
find any verdict.
2 It is generally stated that the martyrdom took place on Nov-
ember 14th. The authority for this is a statement in the original
edition of Sander, that the three abbots obtained the crown of
martyrdom "ad decimum octavum kalendas Decembris." Mr.
David Lewis in his translation has not noticed the error. It is cer-
tain from the original letters of Pollard and Russell that the true
date is Saturday, November 15th.
68 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
And now all the brutal indignities and cruel sufferings
attending the death of a traitor condemned for treason
were inflicted upon him. And in truth, like many a true
and noble Englishman of that day, Richard Whiting
was, in the sense of Crumwell and Henry, a traitor to
his king. The case from their point of view is well ex-
pressed by one of the truculent preachers patronised by
the sovereign as his most fitting apologists.
" For had not Richard ' Whiting, that was Abbot of
Glastonbury, trow ye, great cause, all things considered,
to play so traitorous a part as he hath played, whom
the king's highness made of a vile, beggarly, monkish
merchant, governor and ruler of seven thousand marks
by the year? Trow ye this was not a good pot of wine?
Was not this a fair almose at one man's door? Such a
gift had been worth grammercy to many a man. But
Richard Whiting having always a more desirous eye to
treason than to truth, careless, laid apart both God's
goodness and the king's, and stuck hard by the Bishop
of Rome and the Abbot of Reading in the quarrel of
the Romish Church. Alas! what a stony heart had
(Richard) Whiting, to be so unkind to so loving and
beneficent a prince, and so false a traitor to Henry VIII,
king of his native country, and so true, I say, to that
cormorant of Rome."
In this new meaning of treason, Abbot Whiting was
adjudged the traitor's death. At the outskirts of his own
town his venerable limbs were extended on a hurdle, to
which a horse was attached. In this way he was dragged
on that bleak November morning along the rough hard
ground through the streets of Glastonbury, of which he
and his predecessors had so long been the loved and
1 The name in the MS. is John, but it is evidently a mistake.
SUMMIT OF TOR HILL
[To face p. 68
THE MARTYRDOM 69
honoured lords and masters. It was thus among his
own people that, now at the age of well nigh fourscore
years, Abbot Whiting made his last pilgrimage through
England's "Roma Secunda." As a traitor for conscience'
sake he was drawn past the glorious monastery, now
desolate and deserted, past the great church, that home
of the saints and whilom sanctuary of this country's
greatness, now devastated and desecrated, its relics of
God's holy ones dispersed, its tombs of kings dishon-
oured, on further still to the summit of that hill which
rises yet in the landscape in solitary and majestic great-
ness, the perpetual memorial of the deed now to be
enacted.1 For, thanks to the tenacity with which the
memory of " good Abbot Whiting " has been treasured
by generations of the townsfolk, the very hill to-day is
Abbot Whiting's monument.
His last act was simple. Now about to appear before
1 It has been suggested that the place of Abbot Whiting's mar-
tyrdom was not the Tor, but a smaller hill nearer the town, called
Chalice Hill. The ground of this supposition is that the site of the
abbey is not visible from the Tor, whilst it is from the latter hill. The
steps by which the conclusion was arrived at that this consequently
was the place of martyrdom, would appear to be that while the
letters of Russell and Pollard state that the abbot was executed on
the Tor hill, the Roman editor of Sander uses only a general ex-
pression, perfectly reasonable when writing for persons who were
not acquainted with Glastonbury. The execution took place, he
says, ad montis editi cacumen qui monasterio imminet, i.e., over-
hangs, that is, rises above the monastery. This has been taken in
the sense of overlooking, and next " overlook " in its strictest sense,
as implying that the abbey was visible from the place of execution.
It is only necessary, in order to refute a theory having no better
basis than inaccuracy and misunderstanding, to refer to the simple
assertion of the persons engaged in the execution of Abbot Whiting,
who wrote at the very time it was taking place, and who knew per-
fectly well what Tor hill was.
70 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
a tribunal that was searching, just and merciful, he asks
forgiveness, first of God, and then of man, even of those
who had most offended against justice in his person and
had not rested until they had brought him to the gallows
amidst every incident that could add to such a death —
ignominy and shame. The venerable abbot remains to
the last the same as he always appears throughout his
career; suffering in self-possession and patience the
worst that man could inflict upon his mortal body, in
the firm assurance that in all this he was but follow-
ing in the footsteps of that Lord and Master in whose
service from his youth upwards he had spent his life.
In this supreme moment, his two monks, John Thorne l
and Roger James,2 the one a man of mature age and
experience, the other not long professed, showed them-
selves worthy sons of so good a father. They, too, begged
forgiveness of all and " took their death also very
patiently." Even Pollard seems moved for the moment,
1 A comparison of the lists of monks qualified to take part in the
election of Abbot Whiting in 1523 and the list appended to the
acknowledgment of supremacy in 1 534 seems to show that John
Arthur, treasurer in 1523, is identical with John Thorne, treasurer
in 1 539, martyred with Abbot Whiting. This comparison also shows
that the maker of the chair here illustrated, can be no other than
John Thome, the martyr. The lists of monks give only the Christian
name and the name in religion (in this case Arthur). In the legal
proceedings, for the religious name the family name, Thorne, is
substituted.
The lists of 1523 and 1534 are noteworthy as showing how keen
was the interest taken by the Glastonbury monks in the past of their
house. Amongst the religious names occur: Abaramathea, Joseph,
Arthur, Derivian, Gildas, Benen, Aidan, Ceolfrid, Indractus, Aid-
helm, Dunstan, Ethelwold, Edgar, and other saints connected with
Glastonbury.
2 Roger James is evidently identical with Roger Wilfrid, who in
the list of 1534 was the youngest monk of the house.
A GLASTONBURY CHAIR, DATING FROM THE TIME OF
ABBOT WHITING, AND PROBABLY MADE BY
HIS FELLOW MARTYR, JOHN THORNE
(From the Engraving in Warner)
[To face p. 70
THE MARTYRDOM 71
for he adds with an unwonted touch of tenderness,
" whose souls God pardon."
There is here no need to dwell on the butchery which
followed, and to tell how the hardly lifeless body was
cut down, divided into four parts and the head struck
off. One quarter was despatched to Wells, another to
Bath, a third to Ilchester, and the fourth to Bridgewater,
whilst the venerable head was fixed over the great gate-
way of the abbey, a ghastly warning of the retribution
which might and would fall on all, even the most power-
ful or the most holy, if they ventured to stand between
the king and the accomplishment of his royal will.
All this might indeed strike terror into the people of
the whole country, but not even the will of a Tudor
monarch could prevent the people from forming their
own judgment on the deed that had been done, and
preserving, although robbed of the Catholic faith, the
memory of the "good Abbot Whiting." It is easy to
understand how, so soon after the event as Mary's reign,
the inhabitants of the town and neighbourhood, with a
vivid recollection of the past, were ready and even eager
to make personal sacrifices for the restoration of the
abbey. But even a hundred years later, and indeed even
down to the present day, the name of Abbot Whiting
has been preserved as a household word at Glastonbury
and in its neighbourhood. There are those living who,
when conversing with aged poor people, were touched
to find the affectionate reverence with which his name
was still treasured on the spot, though why he died and
what it was all about they could not tell. That he was
a good, a kind, a holy man they knew, for they had been
told so in the days of their youth by those who had gone
before.
72 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
CHAPTER VIII
ABBOT HUGH COOK OF READING
The abbeys of Reading and Colchester, although of the
first rank, seeing that their abbots were peers of Parlia-
ment, and Reading certainly among the most distin-
guished houses of the country, had no such position as
that of Glastonbury. They were both Norman creations ;
Reading being founded by King Henry II and chosen
by him as his burial place. By favour of its royal
founder the commonalty of Reading recognised the
abbot as their lord ; the mayor of the city " being the
abbot's mayor, &c," as the diocesan, Bishop Shaxton,
writes to Crumwell.
The history of the fall of Reading Abbey and of the
execution of Hugh Cook, or Faringdon, the abbot, would
be in its main features but a repetition of the story of
Glastonbury and Abbot Whiting. The chief source of
information about the Abbot of Reading is a paper,
already referred to, which is still to be found among
the public records, although it has remained unnoticed
till a few years ago.1 It was so decayed with age as
to be almost dropping to pieces, but now encased in
tissue paper it is fortunately legible almost in its entirety.
The document in question is a virulent and brutal in-
vective, evidently a sermon, drawn up for the approval
of Crumwell, to be delivered in justification of the king's
action in putting to death the three Benedictine abbots
and their companions. It is unlikely that this proposed
1 R. O. State Papers, 1539, No. 251.
ABBOT HUGH COOK OF READING 73
sermon was ever delivered, for the deed was done, the
abbots were dead, their property was now all in the
king's hands, and from the point of view of the authors
the less said about the matter the better. The draft was
accordingly thrown by Crumwell into the vast mass of
papers of all sorts accumulating on his hands, which on
his attainder was seized by the king and transferred, as
it stood, to the royal archives.
It seems not improbable that the author of the paper
in question was Latimer. The harangue is brutal ; it
shows all his power of effective alliteration, and it is
written quite in the spirit of the man who begged to be
allowed to preach at the martyrdom of Blessed John
Forrest, and to be placed near him that he might with
better effect insult him in his death agonies. It is certainly
written by a person fully acquainted with all the circum-
stances, and throws light on many matters which would
be unintelligible without it. The paper is so far of the
highest value; but in dealing with its statements it is to
be remembered that the one object of the writer is to
blacken the memory of the martyred abbots, to degrade
them and to bring them by every means into contempt.
From the account of Abbot Cook's origin given by
this writer, it would be gathered that he was born in
humble circumstances. He thus apostrophises the abbot
after his death: "Ah, Hugh Cook, Hugh Cook! nay,
Hugh Scullion rather I may him call that would be so
unthankful to so merciful a prince, so unkind to so loving
a king, and so traitorous to so true an emperor. The
king's highness of his charity took Hugh Cook out his
cankerous cloister and made him, being at that time the
most vilest, the most untowardest and the most miser-
ablest monk that was in the monastery of Reading, born
74 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
to nought else but to an old pair of beggarly boots, and
made him, I say, ruler and governor of three thousand
marks by the year." But the testimony of the writer on
a point of fact such as this cannot be rated high.
It is probable that Abbot Cook belonged to that class
from which the English monastic houses had been so
largely recruited, " the devouter and younger children of
our nobility and gentry who here had their education
and livelihood." ' There seems to be no doubt that he
belonged to a Kentish family known to the heralds.2 His
election to the office of abbot took place in 1520. Grafton
and Hall in their chronicles, in accordance with the
practice common at the time, to depreciate falsely by
any and every means, those who had fallen into the dis-
favour of the reigning tyrant, give him the character of
an illiterate person. " The contrary," writes Browne
1 Bodleian MS. Wood, B. vi. Woodhope's Book of Obits.
- It has been considered doubtful whether the name of the last
abbot of Reading was Cook or Faringdon. He is sometimes called
by one, sometimes by the other name. In the entry of his convic-
tion for treason upon the Controlment Roll, usually very exact, he
is called only by the name of " Cooke." As to the arms borne by
the abbot, Cole, the antiquary, writes as follows : — " In a curious
MS. Book of Heraldry, on vellum and painted, supposed to [be]
written about 1520, contayning all ye arms of Persons who had a
chevron in the same, is this entered : Hugh Faringdon, alias Cooke,
Abbat of Reading. Gules a chevron lozenge sable and argent inter
3 Bezants each charged with a cinquefoil gules, on a chief argent a
Dove inter 2 flowers azure. This book belongs to my Friend Mr.
Blomfield of Norwich. — W. C. 1748." (Note in Cole's copy of
Browne Willis, Mitred Abbeys, i, p. 161, now in possession of the
Earl of Gainsborough.) These arms, impaled with those of Reading
Abbey, are also given in Coates' Reading, plate vii, engraved with
a portrait of the abbot, from a piece of stained glass, formerly in
Sir John Davis' chapel at Bere Court near Pangbourne. These are
the arms of the family of Cook.
ABBOT HUGH COOK OF READING 75
Willis, " will appear to such as will consult his Epistles
to the University of Oxford, remaining in the register of
that university, or shall have an opportunity of perusing
a book entitled The art or craft of Rhetorick, written by
Leonard Cox, schoolmaster of Reading. 'Twas printed
in the year 1524, and is dedicated by the author to this
abbot. He speaks very worthily and honourably of
Faringdon on account of his learning." '
A letter written by Cook to the University in Oxford
in 1530 is evidence of the abbot's intelligent zeal for the
Catholic religion, which at that time was being attacked
by the new heresies springing up on all sides. Among
the monks of Reading Abbey was one Dom John Holy-
man, " a most stout champion in his preachings and
writings against the Lutherans," who, " desirous of a
stricter life had resigned his fellowship at New College,
Oxford, and taken the cowl at Reading Abbey." When
Holyman was to receive the doctorate, Abbot Cook
asked that he might be excused from lecturing before
1 Browne Willis, Mitred Abbeys, i, p. 161. For Leonard Cox con-
sult Diet, of National Biography, xii, p. 136. Cox's preface, referred
to, is printed in Coates' Reading. The whole is interesting, but it is
too long to quote here. It may be gathered that Cox had been a
protege of the abbot, who bestowed much care in advancing the
interest of promising youths, and that Greek was taught as well as
Latin in " your grammar schole, founded by your antecessours in
this your towne of Redynge." It may be worth while to mention
here that in the years 1499 and 1500 a Greek, one John Serbo-
poulos, of Constantinople, was copying Greek MSS. in Reading.
Two of these thick folios written on vellum now form MSS. 23 and
24 in the library of Corpus Christi College, Oxford. They were
among Grocyn's books, and came to the college through the in-
strumentality of John Claymond, who was known and patronised
by Abbot Bere, of Glastonbury. Grocyn himself was taught Greek
by William Sellyng, Prior of Christ Church, Canterbury (see
Downside Review, December, 1894).
76 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
the University, as the custom was, so that he might preach
in London, where there was greater need of such a man,
seeing that the city was already infected with Lutheran-
ism, and where the great popularity which Holyman
already enjoyed brought crowds to him whenever he
appeared in the pulpit at St. Paul's.
On the visitation of Reading Abbey by Doctor London
in 1535, the report was favourable as to the state of
discipline. " They have," writes the Doctor, " a good
lecture in Scripture daily read in their chapter-house
both in English and Latin, to which is good resort, and
the abbot is at it himself."1 It is possible that at this
time, in the Visitors' injunctions as in their report,
Reading was lightly treated. It must have been known
to them, as it evidently was to Crumwell, that the abbot
was in high favour with the king.
At any rate this circumstance will explain the sharp-
ness of a correspondence which took place at this time
between Shaxton, Bishop of Salisbury, in which diocese
Reading was situated, and Crumwell. The latter takes
up the very unusual position as defender of an abbot,
and administers a sharp reproof to the bishop for his
meddlesome interference in matters in which, as Crum-
well tells him plainly, he has no concern beyond a desire
to obtain preferment for an unworthy dependent of
his own.
It appears that the lecturer in Scripture at the abbey
was one Dom Roger London, a monk of the house. In
the usual encouragement given to tale-bearing at this
time, some discontented religious had delated their
teacher to Bishop Shaxton as guilty of heresy. " The
matters were no trifles," says Shaxton, himself at that
' Wright, p. 226.
ABBOT HUGH COOK OF READING 77
time a strong supporter of Lutheranism ; and the four
points of suggested heresy certainly run counter to the
teaching of the German doctor. Shaxton examined him
personally, " as favourably as I could do," he writes,
" and found him a man of very small knowledge and of
worse judgment." In the discussion which followed, the
bishop failed to bring the monk to his mind, and this
determined him to procure the appointment of a man
after his own heart, one Richard Cobbes, who had been
a priest and canon, but who was then "a married man
and degraded." Shaxton applied to Crumwell for the
appointment of Cobbes as lecturer to the monks in Dom
Roger London's place, " with stipend and commons " at
the expense of the monastery.1
Crumwell, on receipt of the bishop's letter, wrote to
the abbot complaining that " the divinity lecture had not
been read in the abbey as it ought to have been," and
recommending Cobbes for the post of lecturer. Abbot
Cook replied that he had already a fully qualified teacher,
" a bachelor of divinity and brother of the house, who,
by the judgment of others " better able to judge than
himself, was "very learned in both divinity and human-
ities, profiting the brethren both in the Latin tongue
and in Holy Scripture." He concludes by pointing out
that this teacher read his lecture at far less charge than
a stranger would do, and offers him to be examined by
any whom Crumwell might appoint. As to the bishop's
nominee, the abbot points out the condition of the man,
and naturally declares him to be " a most dangerous
man " to hold such a position in the monastery. Under
these circumstances Abbot Cook refused to admit Cobbes
1 Gairdner, Calendar, xiii, i, No. 143 (Jan. 26th, the Abbot of
Reading to Crumwell).
78 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
into his house, and continued his monk, Dom Roger
London in the lectureship.
Finding that he had not got his way, Shaxton at once
proceeded to inhibit the monk from reading at Reading,
and put a stop to the lectures altogether. The bishop
had evidently expected that Crumwell would out of
hand have appointed Cobbes to the post on his first re-
presentation; "the which thing, if it had come to pass,
so should I not have needed to have inhibited the said
monk his reading; but I bare with him," he writes, "to
say his creed, so long as there was hope to have another
reader there. But when my expectation was frustrated
in that behalf, then was I driven to do that which I was
loathe to do and which, nevertheless, I was bound to do."
No one could have been more in sympathy with
Shaxton's views on this matter than Crumwell. With
the exception of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the
Bishop of Worcester — that is, Cranmer, and Latimer —
no one was more according to the minister's mind in
religious matters than Bishop Shaxton ; for all of them
were true Lutherans at heart. Two of these prelates, in-
deed, continued honest in the year 1539 when brought
face to face with the king's " Six Articles," which ex-
tinguished the immediate hopes of the Lutherans in
England. They resigned their Sees, whilst Cranmer, in
accordance with his guiding principle, sacrificed his con-
victions and held to his archiepiscopal office.
In the matter of the Reading lectureship Shaxton had
counted that his ground was safe; and so indeed it was,
up to the one point of that personal caprice which,
throughout his reign, Henry maintained as the most
cherished point of his royal prerogative. Whatever be
the cause or explanation of the bishop's failure in this
ABBOT HUGH COOK OF READING 79
matter, one thing is clear: Henry had a real affection
for the Abbot of Reading, so far as his affection could
go, and used, as the contemporary libeller reports, to call
him familiarly " his own abbot."
Shaxton was intent on doing his duty as a good
pastor of sound Lutheran principles. But Crumwell had
that all-determining and all-varying factor to consider,
the king's fancy. He accordingly wrote to the abbot to
tell him that he need not pay any attention to the
Bishop of Salisbury's inhibition. " I," writes Shaxton on
hearing of this, " could not obtain so much of you by
word or writing to have your pleasure, and the Abbot of
Reading could out of hand get and obtain your letters to
hinder me in my right proceeding towards his just cor-
rection." Beyond this, not merely was the bishop's
action set aside, but he had to submit to such a lecture
from the king's vicar-general as may have decided him
to resign his office when a few months later the " Six
Articles " came to be imposed by the king and it was
seen that the day for Lutheranism in England had not
yet dawned.
It will be sufficient here to quote the conclusion of
Crumwell's letter, which dealt expressly with the matter
in hand. " As for the Abbot of Reading and his monk,"
he writes, " if I find them as ye say they are, I will order
them as I think good.1 Ye shall do well to do your
duty; if you do so ye shall have no cause to mistrust my
. friendship. If ye do not, I can tell that [to] you, and
1 Ultimately Roger London, the reader complained of by Shaxton,
found his way into the Tower. His name appears in a list of
prisoners there "on the 20th day of November," 1539, as " Roger
London, monk of Reading" (B. Mus. Cott. MS., Titus B. i., f. 133).
His fate is uncertain.
80 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
that somewhat after the plainest sort. To take a con-
troversy out of your hands into mine I do but mine
office. You meddle further than your office will bear
you, thus roughly to handle me for using of mine. If ye
do so no more I let pass all that is past."
Whatever advantage the Abbot of Reading derived
temporarily, at different conjunctures, from the king's
partiality for him, it was by this time clear that such
favour could be continued to a man of Abbot Cook's
character only by the sacrifice of principles and convic-
tions. According to the writer of the sermon already
quoted, the abbot " could not abide " the preachers of
the new-fangled doctrines then in vogue, and " called
them heretics and knaves of the New Learning." He
was also " ever a great student and setter forth of St.
Benet's, St. Francis', St. Dominic's and St. Augustine's
rules, and said they were rules right holy and of great
perfectness." It was, moreover, recognised that disci-
pline was well maintained at Reading and Colchester no
less than at Glastonbury; " these doughty deacons," as
the writer calls the abbots and their monks, " thought it
both heresy and treason to God to leave Matins unsaid,
to speak loud in the cloisters, and to eat eggs on the
Friday." ' It would appear probable that Abbot Cook
did not refuse to take the oath of royal supremacy, al-
though there can be little doubt that in so doing he did
not intend to separate himself from the traditional
teaching of the Catholic Church on the question of
papal authority. " He thought to shoot at the king's
supremacy," as the contemporary witness has put it, and
he was apparently charged with saying " that he would
pray for the pope's holiness as long as he lived and
1 R. O State Papers, Domestic, 1539, 251.
ABBOT HUGH COOK OF READING 81
would once a week say Mass for him, trusting that by
such good prayers the pope should rise again and have
the king's highness with all the whole realm in subjec-
tion as he hath had in time past. And upon a ton voyage
would call him pope as long as he lived."
After a page of abuse, the writer continues: " 1 can-
not tell how this prayer will be allowed among St.
Benet's rules, but this I am certain and sure of, that it
standeth flatly against our Master Christ's rule. . . .
What other thing should the abbat pray for here (as
methinketh) but even first and foremost for the high
dishonouring of Almighty God, for the confusion of our
most dread sovereign lord, king Henry VIII, with his
royal successors, and also for the utter destruction of
this most noble realm of England. Well, I say no more,
but I pray God heartily that the Mass be not abused in
the like sort of a great many more in England which
bear as fair faces under their black cowls and bald
crowns as ever did the abbat of Reading, or any of the
other traitors. I wiss neither the abbat of Reading, the
abbat of Glassenbury, nor the prior [sic] of Colchester,
Dr. Holyman, nor Roger London, John Rugg, nor
Bachelor Giles, blind Moore, nor Master Manchester,
the warden of the friars; no, nor yet John Oynyon, the
abbat's chief councillor, was able to prove with all their
sophistical arguments that the Mass was ordained for
any such intent or purpose as the abbat of Reading
used it."
" I fear me, Hugh Cook was master cook to a great
many of that black guard (I mean black monks), and
taught them to dress such gross dishes as he was always
wont to dress, that is to say, treason ; but let them all
take heed."
G
82 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
At the time of the great northern rising, the Abbey of
Reading, together with those of Glastonbury and Col-
chester, is found on the list of contributors to the king's
expenses in defeating the rebel forces. Reading itself
appears to have had some communication with Robert
Aske, for copies of a letter written by him, and appar-
ently also his proclamation, were circulated in the town.
Amongst others who were supposed to be privy to the
intentions of the insurgent chief was John Eynon, a
priest of the church of St. Giles, Reading, and a special
friend of Abbot Cook. Three years later this priest was
executed with the abbot ; but it is clear that at the time
there was not even a suggestion of any complicity in the
insurrection on the part of the abbot, as he presided at
the examinations held in December, 1536, as to this
matter.1
The first sign of any serious trouble appears about
the close of 1537. The king's proceedings, which were
distasteful to the nation at large, naturally gave rise to
much criticism and murmuring. Every overt expression
of disapprobation was eagerly watched for and diligently
enquired into by the royal officials. The numerous re-
cords of examinations as to words spoken in conversa-
tion or in sermons, evidence the extreme care taken by
the Government to crush out the first sparks of popular
discontent. Rumours as to the king's bad health, or, still
more, reports as to his death, were construed into in-
dications of a treasonable disposition. In December,
1537, a rumour of this kind that Henry was dead reached
Reading, and Abbot Cook wrote to some of his neigh-
bours to tell them what was reported. This act was laid
to his charge, and Henry acquired a cheap reputation
1 Calendar, xi, 1231.
ABBOT HUGH COOK OF READING 83
for magnanimity and clemency by pardoning " his own
abbot " for what was, at the very worst, but a trifling act
of indiscretion.
The libeller thus treats the incident: — " For think ye
that the Abbat of Reading deserved any less than to be
hanged, what time as he wrote letters of the king's death
unto divers gentlemen in Berkshire, considering in what
a queasy case the realm stood in at that same season?
For the insurrection that was in the north country was
scarcely yet thoroughly quieted ; thus began he to stir
the coals a novo and to make a fresh roasting fire, and
did enough, if God had not stretched forth His helping
hand, to set the realm in as great an uproar as ever it
was, and yet the king's majesty, of his royal clemency,
forgave him. This had been enough to have made this
traitor a true man if there had been any grace in him."
Circumstances had brought Abbot Cook into com-
munication with both the other abbots, whose fate was
subsequently linked with his own. In the triennial
general chapters of the Benedictines, in Parliament, in
Convocation, they had frequently met; and when the
more active measures of persecution devised by Crum-
well made personal intercourse impossible, a trusty
agent was found in the person of a blind harper named
Moore, whose affliction and musical skill had brought
him under the kindly notice of the king. This staunch
friend of the papal party, whose blindness rendered his
mission unsuspected, travelled about from one abbey to
another, encouraging the imprisoned monks, bearing
letters from house to house, and, doubtless, finding a
safe way of sending off to Rome the letters which they
had written to the pope and cardinals.
" But now amongst them all let us talk a word or two
S4 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
of William Moor, the blind harper. Who would have
thought that he would have consented or concealed any
treason against the king's majesty? or who could have
thought that he had had any power thereto? Who can
muse or marvel enough to see a blind man for lack of
sight to grope after treason? Oh! Moor, Moor, hast
thou so great a delight and desire to play the traitor?
Is this the mark that blind men trust to hit perchance?
Hast thou not heard how the blind eateth many a fly?
Couldst not thou beware and have kept thy mouth close
together for fear of gnats? Hath God endued thee with
the excellency of harping and with other good qualities,
to put unto such a vile use? Couldst thou have passed
the time with none other song but with the harping
upon the string of treason? Couldst thou not have con-
sidered that the king's grace called thee from the wallet
and the staff to the state of a gentleman? Wast thou
also learned, and couldst thou not consider that the
end of treason is eternal damnation? Couldst thou not
be contented truly to serve thy sovereign lord king
Henry VIII, whom thou before a great many oughtest
and wast most bound truly to serve ? Couldst not thou
at least for all the benefits received at his grace's hand,
bear towards him thy good will? Hadst thou nought
else to do but to become a traitorous messenger be-
tween abbat and abbat? Had not the traitorous abbats
picked out a pretty mad messenger of such a blind
buzzard as thou art? Could I blazon thine arms suffi-
ciently although I would say more than I have said?
Could a man paint thee out in thy colours any other-
wise than traitors ought to be painted? Shall I call
thee William Moor, the blind harper? Nay, verily, thou
shalt be called William Moor, the blind traitor. Now,
ABBOT HUGH COOK OF READING 85
surely, in my judgment, God did a gracious deed what
time He put out both thine eyes, for what a traitor by
all likelihood wouldst thou have been if God had lent
thee thy sight, seeing thou wast so willing to grope
blindfolded after treason! When thou becamest a
traitorous messenger between the traitorous abbats, and
when thou tookest in hand to lead traitors in the trade
of treason, then was verified the sentence of our Master
Christ, which sayeth, When the blind lead the blind
both shall fall into the ditch. Thou wast blind in thine
eyes, and they were blind in their consciences. Where-
fore ye be all fallen into the ditch, that is to say, into
the high displeasure of God and the king. I wiss,
Moor, thou wrestest thine harpstrings clean out of tune,
and settest thine harp a note too high when thou
thoughtest to set the bawdy bishop of Rome above the
king's majesty." l
It is evident that in the Benedictine monasteries of
the district, as years went on, there were many who, as
they came to realise the true meaning of this new royal
supremacy, made no attempt to dissemble their real
opinions on the matter. The writer so frequently re-
ferred to thus expresses his conviction as to the attitude
of the monks: " But like as of late by God's purveyance
a great part of their religious hoods be already meetly
well ripped from their crafty coats, even so I hope the
residue of the like religion shall in like sort not long
remain unripped; for truly so long as they be let run at
1 State Papers, 1539, No. 251, p. 25. "William Moor" appears
in a list of prisoners in the Tower, 20th November, 1539 (B. Mus.
Cott. MS., Titus B., i, f. 133). Perhaps Moor is the same person
mentioned by Stowe (ed. 1614, p. 582): "The 1 of July (1540) a
Welchman, a minstrel, was hanged and quartered for singing of
songs which were interpreted to be prophecying against the king."
86 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
riot thus still in religion, they think verily that they may
play the traitors by authority. But now his grace seeth
well enough that all was not gold that glittered, neither
all his true subjects that called him lord and master,
namely, of Balaam's asses with the bald crowns. But I
would now heartily wish," he adds, writing after the
execution of the Abbots of Glastonbury, Colchester and
Reading, " that as many as be of that traitorous religion
[i.e., Order] that those abbots were of, at the next
[assizes] may have their bald crowns as well shaven as
theirs were."
On such suspicions as these the Abbot of Abingdon
was called up to London and examined by Crumwell
himself, whilst one of his monks was removed from the
abbey to Bishop Shaxton's prison, evidently for his
opinions on religious questions of the day, since he is
designated by the Bishop as " the popish monk." Again
one of Crumwell's spies reported his grave doubts as to
Sir Thomas Eliot. It appears that Eliot had given out
that he had himself told Crumwell that "the Imperator
of Almayn never spoke of the Bishop of Rome but he
raised his bonnet," and that he consorted in the country
with " the vain-glorious Abbot of Eynesham," and with
Dr. Holyman, evidently a relative of Dom John Holy-
man, the monk of Reading, and incumbent of " Han-
borough, a mile of Eynesham," who is noted as " a base
priest and privy fautor of the Bishop of Rome." More-
over, " he was marvellous familiar," so said the spy,
" with the Abbot of Reading and Doctor London,
Warden of New College, Oxon," a man, it is to be ob-
served, in every way of different mind from his name-
sake, Dr. London, the royal Visitor.
A letter from Eliot to Crumwell, in which he ex-
ABBOT HUGH COOK OF READING 87
presses his willingness to give up his popish books and
strives to remove from the mind of the all-powerful
vicar-general of the king the suspicion that he was " an
advancer of the pompous authority of the Bishop of
Rome," gives some insight into the nature of his com-
munications with the suspected abbots. There " hath
happened," he says, " no little contention betwixt me
and such persons as ye have thought that I especially
favoured, even as ye also did,1 for some laudable qualities
which we supposed to be in them ; but neither they
could persuade me to approve that which both my faith
and reason condemned, nor I could not dissuade them
from the excusing of that which all the world abhorred.
This obstinacy of both parts relented the great affection
betwixt us and withdrew our familiarity."2
In view of the prize to be won, that is, the broad acres
and other possessions of the great monastic houses, any
very definite enquiry as to the opinions of the inmates
was not at once pressed home. Crumwell played a wait-
ing game. The situation at Reading Abbey is well
described by Dr. London, the Visitor and royal agent in
dissolving the religious houses, in a letter written to
Crumwell whilst occupied in suppressing the Grey
Friars' house in the town. " My lord," he writes of the
abbot, " doubteth my being here very sore, yet I have
not seen him since I came, nor been at his house, except
yesterday to hear Mass. The last time I was here he
said, as they all do, that he was at the king's command,
but loathe be they to come to any free surrender." 3
The writer here evidently refers to the Abbot of Reading in
particular.
• Strype, Ecclesiastical Memorials, ii, ii, p. 229.
! Gairdner, Calendar, xiii, ii, No. 5.
88 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
Still Crumwell evidently hesitated to try conclusions,
and so matters remained for another year until he had
obtained his Act of Parliament which provided for the
case of a house " happening to come to the king's high-
ness by attainder or attainders of treason." By the
autumn of the year 1539 he was prepared for the final
issue in the case of Reading. We have no records giving
the details of Abbot Cook's arrest and his conveyance
to the Tower. There is only the ominous entry in Crum-
well's Remembrances early in September: " For proceed-
ing against the abbots of Glaston, Reading and other in
their countries." The Abbot of Reading seems to have
been the first to be arrested, and there can be no doubt
that they all remained for near two months in the Tower
and were all subjected to the same enquiries. There is
evidence to show that at Reading many arrests were
made when the abbot was taken. A list of the prisoners
in the Tower on November 20th, 1539, includes the fol-
lowing, all connected with the abbey and town: Roger
London, monk of Reading, Peter Lawrence, Warden of
the Grey Friars at Reading, Giles Coventry, who was a
friar of the same house, George Constantine, Richard
Manchester and William Moor, "the blind harper;"1 and
in one of Crumwell's Remembrances at this time there is
noted: "Item to proceed against the Abbots of Read-
ing, Glaston, Rugg, Bachyler, London, the Grey Friars
and Heron."
Abbot Cook, like the Abbot of Glastonbury, under-
went examination and practical condemnation in the
Tower before being sent down to his " country to be
tried and executed." What was the head and chief of
1 B. Mus., Cott. MS., Titus B, i, f. 133.
ABBOT HUGH COOK OF READING 89
his offence we may take from the testimony of the hostile
witness so freely used.
" It will make many beware to put their fingers in the
fire any more," he says, " either for the honour of Peter
and Paul or for the right of the Roman Church. No, not
for the pardon of the pope himself, though he would
grant more pardon than all the popes that ever were
have granted. I think, verily, our mother holy Church
of Rome hath not so great a jewel of her own darling
Reynold Poole as she should have had of these abbats
if they could have conveyed all things cleanly. Could
not our English abbats be contented with English forked
caps but must look after Romish cardinal hats also?
Could they not be contented with the plain fashion of
England but must counterfeit the crafty cardinality of
Reynold Poole? Surely they should have worn their
cardinal hats with as much shame as that papistical
traitor, Reynold Poole. . . . Could not our popish abbats
beware of Reynold Poole, of that bottomless whirlpool,
I say, which is never satiate of treason? "
Carried down to Reading for the mockery of justice,
called a trial, the abbot and his companions could not
swerve from their belief and their Faith, but they main-
tained that this was not treason against the king.
" When these traitors," says the libeller, " were arraigned
at the bar, although they had confessed before and
written it with their own hands that they had committed
high treason against the king's majesty, yet they found
all the means they could to go about to try themselves
true men, which was impossible to bring to pass."
The writer's object was not to state the facts, but
to cover the memory of the dead men with obloquy.
Taking the document, however, as a whole, and bearing
90 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
in mind the interpretation placed on the word treason
at that time, there is no difficulty in penetrating into his
meaning.
On November 15th, the same day upon which Abbot
Whiting suffered at Glastonbury, the Abbot of Reading
and two priests, John Eynon and John Rugg, were
brought out to suffer the death of traitors. Here the
same ghastly scene was enacted as at Glastonbury; the
stretching on the hurdle, the dragging through the streets
of the town. Abbot Cook, standing in the space before
the gateway of his abbey, spoke to the people who in
great numbers had gathered to witness the strange
spectacle of the execution of a lord abbot of the great
and powerful monastery of Reading. He told them of
the cause for which he and his companions were to die,
not fearing openly to profess that which Henry's laws
made it treason to hold — fidelity to the See of Rome,
which he went on to point out was but the common
faith of those who had the best right to declare the true
teaching of the English Church. " The Abbot of Read-
ing, at the day of his death lamenting the miserable end
that he was come unto," says our authority, perverting
words and deeds to the greater glory of the king, " con-
fessed before a great sight of people, and said that he
might thank these four privy traitors before named of
his sore fall, as who should say that those three bishops
and the vicar of Croydon had committed no less treason
than he had done. Now, good Lord for his Passion, who
would have thought that these four holy men would
have wrought in their lifetime such detestable treason?"
And later on, speaking of the three abbots: "God
caused, I say, not only their treason to be disclosed and
come abroad in such a wonderful sort as never was heard
ABBOT HUGH COOK OF READING 91
of, which were too long to recite at this time, but also
dead men's treason that long lay hidden under the
ground; that is to say, the treason of the old bishop of
Canterbury [Warham], the treason of the old bishop of
St. Asaph [Standish], the treason of the old vicar of
Croydon, and the treason of the old bishop of London
[Stokesley], which four traitors had concealed as much
treason by their lives' time as any of these traitors that
were put to death.' There was never a barrel better
herring to choose [among] them all, as it right well
appeared by the Abbat of Reading's confession made at
the day of [execution], who I daresay accused none of
them for malice nor hatred. For the abbat as heartily
loved those holy fathers as ever he loved any men in
his life."
Thus, from the scaffold with the rope round his neck,
and on the verge of eternity, the venerable abbot gave a
witness to the veneration traditional in these islands
from the earliest ages for the See of Rome, " in which
the Apostles daily sit, and their blood shows forth with-
out intermission the glory of God." 2
When the abbot had finished, John Eynon,3 the abbot's
1 This reference to Warham, Stokesley, etc., shows that what
was in question throughout the proceedings was the papal versus
the royal authority.
- In these terms the first council of Aries, in 314, addressed Pope
St. Silvester. This is the first known official act proceeding from
bishops of the British Church.
3 The usual spelling of this name has been Onyon or Oynyon,
but it really was Eynon. It is so spelt in the document already re-
ferred to (Calendar, xi, No. 1231), and also in the accurate entry of
the conviction, to be found on the Controlment Roll, 31 Hen. VIII,
m. 28 d. " Recordum attinctionis, &c, Hugonis abbatis monasterii
de Redyng in diet. com. Berks, alias dicti Hugonis Cooke, nuper
de Redyng in eodem com. Berks, clerici ; Johannis Eynon nupe
92 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
"chief counsellor," also spoke, evidently in the same
sense, and begged the prayers of the bystanders for his
soul, and the king's forgiveness if in aught he had
offended.'
This over, the sentence of hanging with its barbarous
accessories was carried out upon Abbot Cook and the
two priests, John Eynon and John Rugg.2
de Redyng in com. pred. clerici ; Johannis Rugge nuper de Redyng
in com. Berks, clerici alias diet. Johannis Rugge nuper de Redyng
capellani, pro quibusdam altis proditionibus unde eorum quilibet
pro se indictus fuit, tractus et suspensus."
' It would seem that at the trial some attempt was made to im-
plicate Eynon in the Pilgrimage of Grace, in connection with which
his name had been mentioned in 1536; and this is doubtless the
"treason" which the hostile witness declares that he not only
denied, " but also stoutly and stubbornly withstood it even to the
utmost, evermore finding great fault with justice, and oftentimes
casting his arms abroad, said: 'Alas, is this justice to destroy a
man guiltless? I take it between God and my soul that I am as
clear in this matter as the child that was this night born.' Thus he
prated and made a work as though he had not known what the
matter had meant, thinking to have faced it out with a card of ten.
And in this sort he held on even from the time of the arraignment
till he came to the gallows. Marry then, when he saw none other
way but one, his heart began somewhat to relent. Then both he and
his companions, with their ropes about their necks, confessed before
all the people that were present that they had committed high
treason against the king's most noble person, but namely Oynyon,
for he said that he had offended the king's grace in such sort of
treason that it was not expedient to tell thereof. Wherefore he be-
sought the people not only to pray unto God for him, but also
desired them, or some of them at the least, to desire the king's grace
of his merciful goodness to forgive it his soul, for else he was sure,
as he said, to be damned. And yet, not an hour before, a man that
had heard him speak would have thought verily that he had been
guiltless of treason."
' Eynon was, as before stated, a priest attached to the church of
St. Giles, Reading. John Rugg had formerly held a prebend at
Chichester, but had apparently retired to Reading. In December
ARBOT HUGH COOK OF READING 93
The attainder of the abbot, according to the royal
interpretation of the law, placed the Abbey of Reading
and its lands and possessions at Henry's disposal. In
fact, as in the case of Glastonbury, on the removal of
the abbot to the Tower in September, 1539, before either
trial or condemnation, the pillage of the abbey had been
commenced. As early as September 8th Thomas Moyle
wrote from Reading that he, " master Vachell and Mr.
Dean of York " (Layton) had " been through the in-
ventory of the plate, etc., at the residence" there. "In
the house," he said, " is a chamber hanged with three
pieces of metely good tapestry. It will serve well for
hanging a mean little chamber in the king's majesty's
house." This is all they think worth keeping for the
royal use. " There is also," the writer adds, " a chamber
hung with six pieces of verdure with fountains, but it is
old and at the ends of some of them very foul and
greasy." He notes several beds with silk hangings, and
in the church eight pieces of tapestry, " very goodly "
but small, and concludes by saying that he and his
fellows think that the sum of ,£200 a year " will serve
for pensions for the monks." '
1531 {Calendar, v), Rugg writes for his books to be sent to Reading
from Chichester. Another letter, dated Feb. 3, 1532, from "your
abbey-lover Jo. Rugg" shows that the writer had obtained dispensa-
tion for non-residence at Chichester. Coates {Reading, p. 261), on
the authority of Croke, says that John Rugg was indicted for say-
ing "the king's highness cannot be Supreme Head of the Church
of England." On being asked " Whafdid you for saving your con-
science when you were sworn to take the king for Supreme Head?"
Rugg replied, " I added this condition in my mind, to take him for
Supreme Head in temporal things, but not in spiritual things."
1 R. O. Crnniwell Correspondence, xxix, No. 76. In the "Cor-
poration diary," quoted in Coates' Reading, p. 261, is the entry
"before which said nineteenth of September (1539), the monastery
94 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
On September 15th another commissioner, Richard
Pollard, wrote from Reading that he had dispatched
certain goods according to CrumweH's direction "and
part of the stuff reserved for the king's majesty's use."
" The whole house and church are," he says, '• still un-
defaced," and " as for the plate,1 vestments, copes and
hangings, which we have reserved " to the king's use,
they are left in good custody and are to be at once con-
veyed to London. "Thanks be to God," he adds,
"everything is well finished, and every man well con-
tented, and giveth humble thanks to the king's grace."2
is suppressed and the abbot is deprived, and after this suppression
all things remain in the king's hands."
1 In Pollard's account of the plate of "attainted persons and
places " {Monastic Treasures, Abbotsford Club, p. 38) Reading is
credited with 19^- ounces of gold, $77 ounces of gilt plate, and
2,660 ounces of silver. It is also stated that the abbot put "to
gage to Sir W. Luke three gilt bowls of 152 ounces and six silver
bowls of 246 ounces."
- Wright, 220. Mr. Wright thinks this letter " must refer to the
priory and not to the abbey." A letter from William Penison, to
whom Pollard says he committed the charge " by indenture," says
that on September nth he "received possession of the Abbey of
Reading and all the domains which the late abbot had in his hands
at his late going away" (R. O. Crumwell Correspondence, vol. xxxii,
No. 36). This letter shows that, to William Penison, Abbot Cook
was late abbot — in other words, had ceased to hold the office when
he was taken away to the Tower for examination early in Sep-
tember.
THE LAST ABBOT OF COLCHESTER 95
CHAPTER IX
THE LAST ABBOT OF COLCHESTER
The Abbot of St. John's, Colchester, Thomas Marshall,1
writes Browne Willis, " was one of the three mitred par-
liamentary abbots that had courage enough to maintain
his conscience and run the last extremity, being neither
to be prevailed upon by bribery, terror or any dishonour-
able motives to come into a surrender, or subscribe to
the king's supremacy; on which account, being attainted
of high treason, he suffered death."
Thomas Marshall succeeded Abbot Barton in June,
1533, and entered upon the cares of office at a time
when religious life was becoming almost impossible. At
the outset he had apparently considerable difficulty in
obtaining possession of the temporalities of his abbey.
" I, with the whole consent of my brethren," he writes to
Crumwell, " have sealed four several obligations for the
1 Thomas Marshall was also called Beche. It may be worth
while here, as some confusion has existed as to the last Abbot of
Colchester, to give the evidence of the Controlment Roll, 31 Hen.
VIII, m. 36d, which leaves no room for doubt that Beche and
Marshall are aliases for the same person. " Recordum attinctionis
Thomas Beche nuper de West Donylands, in com. Essex, clerici,
alias dicti Thomas Marshall nuper de eisdem villa et comit., clerici,
alias Thomas Beche nuper abbatis nuper monasterii S. Johannis
Bapt. juxta Colcestr., in com. pred. jam dissolut. alias dicti Thomae
Marshall nuper abb. nuper mon. S. Johis. Colcestr. in com. pred.
pro quibusdam altis proditionibus." West Donylands was a manor
belonging to the abbot, and the name occurs in exchanges made
by the abbot with Chancellor Audley in 1536 (see Calendar, xi,
Nos. 385, 519).
96 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
payment of ^200 to the king's use, trusting now by your
especial favour to have restitution of my temporalities
with all other things pertaining to the same. Unless I
have your especial favour and aid in recovering such
rents and dues as are withdrawn from the monastery of
late, and I not able to recover them by the law, I cannot
tell how I shall live in the world, saving my truth and
promises." 1
Of the earlier career of Thomas Marshall little is
known except that he, like the majority of his Order in
England who were selected by their superiors for a uni-
versity course, was sent to Oxford, where he resided for
several years, and passed through the schools with credit
to himself and his Order. During this period he was
probably an inmate of St. Benedict's or Gloucester Hall,
the largest of the three establishments which the Bene-
dictines possessed in Oxford, and to which the younger
religious of most of the English abbeys were sent to
pursue their higher studies.2
1 R. O. Crumwell Correspondence, vi, f. 145. The temporalities
were restored on Jan. 23rd, 1534, and on March 30th of this same
year the new abbot took his seat in the House of Lords. It has
been thought that Marshall is the same Thomas Marshall who
ruled the abbey of Chester until 1 530, and is counted as the twenty-
sixth abbot of that house {Motiasticon, iv). Whether, on his retire-
ment from Chester in favour of the reinstated abbot, John Birchen-
shaw, he went to Colchester is uncertain. If he had been long at
this latter monastery it is somewhat strange that the witnesses
against him in 1539 should have professed to be unacquainted with
him until his election.
2 St. Benedict's is now represented by Worcester College; Can-
terbury Hall, destined for the monks of the metropolitan church, is
now merged in Christ Church ; and Trinity College has succeeded
to St. Cuthbert's Hall, the learned home of the monks of Durham.
D. Thomas Marshall, O.S.B., supplicated for B.D. January 24,
1508-9; disputed 3rd June, 1511; admitted to oppose, 19th Oct.;
THE LAST ABBOT OF COLCHESTER 97
Very shortly after Abbot Marshall's election his
troubles commenced. At Colchester, as elsewhere in the
country at this period, there were to be found some only
too anxious to win favour to themselves by carrying re-
ports of the doings and sayings of their brethren to
Crumwell or the king. In April, 1534, a monk of St.
John's complained of the " slanderous and presumptu-
ous " sayings of the sub-prior, " D. John Francis." This
latter monk, according to Crumwell's informer, had
" declared our sovereign lord the king and his most
honourable council, on the occasion of a new book of
articles, to be all heretics, whereas before he said they
were but schismatics." l These and other remarks were
quite sufficient to have brought both the bold monk
himself and his abbot into trouble, at a time when the
gossip of the fratry or shaving-house was picked up by
eavesdroppers and carried to court to regale the ears of
the Lord Privy Seal. In this case, however, the report
came on the eve of the administration to the monks of
Colchester of what was to be henceforth considered the
touchstone of loyalty, the oath of supremacy. On the
7th of July, 1534, the oath was offered to the monks in
the chapter house of St. John's, and taken by Abbot
Marshall and sixteen monks, including Dom John Francis,
the sub-prior complained of to Crumwell.
Very little indeed is known about Colchester or the
doings of the abbot from this time till his arrest in 1539.
At the time of the northern rising, whilst the commis-
sioners for gaol-delivery sat at Colchester, they were in-
received the degree of S.T.B., 10th Dec; sued for D.D. and dis-
puted 20th April, 1 5 1 5. Boase, Register of the University of Oxford,
p. 63.
1 Calendar, 1534, Ap. viii.
H
98 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
vited to dine at the abbey with the Abbot of St. John's.
When they were at dinner, as Crumwell's informant
writes to him, one Marmaduke Nevill and others came
into the hall. " I asked him," says the writer, " ' How do
the traitors in the north? ' ' No traitors, for if ye call us
traitors we will call you heretics.' " Nevill then went on
to say that the king had pardoned them, or they had
not been at Colchester. They were, he declared, 30,000
well-horsed, and " I am sure," he said, " my lord abbot
will make me good cheer;" and asked why, said, " Marry,
for all the abbeys in England be beholden to us, for we
have set up all the abbeys again in our country, and
though it were never so late they sang Matins the same
night." He added that in the north they were " plain
fellows," and southern men, though they "thought as
much, durst not utter it." 1
Another glimpse of the life led by the Abbot of
Colchester during the few troubled years of his au-
thority is afforded by a writer of a slightly subsequent
period:
"Those who can call to mind the cruel deeds ot
Henry VIII, the confusion of things sacred and profane,
and the slaughterings of which he was the author, will
have no difficulty in recollecting the case of John Beche,
Abbat of Colchester. Excelling many of the abbats of
his day in devotion, piety and learning, the sad fate of
the cardinal (Fisher) and the execution of Sir Thomas
More oppressed him with grief and bitterness. For he
had greatly loved them; and as he had honoured them
when living, so now that they had so gladly suffered
death for the Church's unity, he began to reverence and
venerate them, and often and much did he utter to that
1 Calendar, xi, 13 19.
THE LAST ABBOT OF COLCHESTER 99
effect, and made his friends partakers of his grief which
the late events had caused him. And he was in the
habit of extolling the piety, meekness, and innocence of
the late martyrs to those guests whom he invited to his
table, and who came to him of their own will, some of
whom assented to his words, while others listened in
silence. There came at length a traitorous guest, a
violator of the sacred rights of hospitality, who by his
words incited the abbat to talk about the execution of
the cardinal and More, hoping to entrap him in his
speech. Thereon the abbat, who could not be silent on
such a theme, spoke indeed in their praise but with
moderation and sparingly, adding at last that he mar-
velled what cause of complaint the king could have
found in men so virtuous and learned, and the greatest
ornaments of Church and State, as to deem them un-
worthy of longer life, and to condemn them to a most
cruel death. These words did this false friend carry
away in his traitorous breast, to make them known in
due season to the advisers of the king. What need of
more? The abbat is led to the same tribunal which had
condemned both Fisher and More, and there received
the like sentence of death; yea, his punishment was the
more cruel than theirs, for in his case no part of the
sentence was remitted. Thus he was added as the third
to the company of the two former. But why should I
call him the third, and try to enumerate the English
martyrs of that time, who are past counting? The
writers of our annals mention many by name, but there
were many more whose names they could not ascertain,
whose number is known to God alone, for whose cause
they died. Yet I hope that some day God will make
known their names and the resting-places of their bodies,
ioo THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
which were in life the dwelling-places of His Holy
Spirit." '
About the time of the arrest of the Abbots of Reading
and Glastonbury, in September, 1539, reports were
spread as to the approaching dissolution of St. John's,
Colchester. Sir Thomas Audley, the Chancellor, endeav-
oured to avert what he thought would be an evil thing
for the county. He had heard the rumours about the
destruction of the two abbeys of St. John's, Colchester,
and St. Osyth's, and, writing to Crumwell, he begs they
may continue, " not, as they be, religious ; but that the
king's majesty of his goodness to translate them into
colleges. For the which, as I said to you before, his
grace may have of either of them £1,000, that is for
both £2,000, and the gift of the deans and prebendaries
at his own pleasure. The cause I move this is, first, I
consider that St. John's standeth in his grace's own
town at Colchester, wherein dwell many poor people
who have daily relief of the house. Another cause,
both these houses be in the end of the shire of Essex,
where little hospitality will be kept if these be dissolved.
For as for St. John's it lacketh water, and St. Osyth's
standeth in the marshes, not very wholesome, so that
few of reputation, as I think, will keep continual houses
in any of them unless it be a congregation as there is
now. There are also twenty houses, great and small,
dissolved in the shire of Essex already." Audley then
goes on to protest that he only asks for the common
good, and can get no advantage himself by the houses
being allowed to continue, and concludes by offering
Crumwell £200 for himself if he can persuade the king
to grant his request.2
1 B. Mus. Arundel MS., 152, f. 235c!. 2 Wright, p. 246.
THE LAST ABBOT OF COLCHESTER 101
The circumstances attending Abbot Marshall's arrest
are unknown, but by the beginning of November, 1539,
he was certainly in the Tower. On the 1st of that month
Edmund Crowman, who had been his servant ever since
he had been abbot, was under examination. All that
was apparently extracted from this witness was that a
year before the abbot had given him certain plate to
take care of and " £40 in a coser." '
The abbot's chaplain was also interrogated as to any
words he had heard the abbot speak against the king at
any time, but little information was elicited from him.
The most important piece of evidence is a document,
which, as it contains declarations as to Abbot Marshall's
opinions upon several important matters, and as it is
almost the only record of the examinations of witnesses
against any of the three abbots; and gives a sample of
the questions on which all these examinations in the
Tower concerning treason must i)ave:ftirned,'m<r/'r#re
be given as nearly as possible in the original form.
" Interrogatories ministered unto Robert Rowse, mer-
cer, of Colchester, 4t0 Novembris anno regni Henrici
octavi tricesimo primo (1539). Ad primam, the said
Rowse sworne upon the Evangel, and sayeth that he
hath known the Abbat of Colchester the space of six
years at midsummer last past or thereabout, about which
time the said was elected abbat.2 And within a
sennight after or thereabout this examinant sent unto
the said abbat a dish of bass (baces) and a pottle of wine
to the welcome. Upon the which present the said abbat
did send for the examinant to dine with him upon a
Friday, at which time they were first acquainted, and
1 R. O. Crumwell Correspondence, xxxviii, No. 42.
2 D. Thomas Marshall or Beche was elected June 10th, 1533.
io2 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
since was divers times in his company and familiar with
him unto a fortnight before the feast of All Hallows was
two years past. — ROBERT ROWSE.
2. Ad secundam, he sayeth that the principal cause
why that he did leave the company of the said abbat
was because that abbat was divers times communing
and respuing against the king's majesty's
Supremacy. , , ,.
supremacy and such ordinances as were
passed by the Act of Parliament concerning the extin-
guishment of the bishop of Rome's usurped authority,
Th , . saying that the whole authority was given
authority by Christ unto Peter and to his successors,
committed bishops of Rome, to bind and to loose, and
to grant pardons for sin, and to be chief
and supreme head of the Church throughout all Christian
realms immediate and next unto Christ, and that it was
Against the against God's commandment and His laws
supremacy. fiVtiZ an v temporal prince should be head of
the Church. And also he said that the king's highness
had evil counsel that moved him to take on hand to be
chief head of the Church of England and to pull down
these houses of religion which were founded by his
grace's progenitors and many noble men for the service
and honour of God, the commonwealth, and relief of poor
Against man's fo^K anc* that the same was both against
law and God's God's law and man's law; and furthermore,
law- he said that by means of the premises the
king and his council were drawn into such an inordinate
covetousness that if all the water in the Thames were
flowing gold and silver it were not able to
slake their covetousness.and said a vengeance
A vengeance.
of all such councillors. — ROBERT ROWSE.
3. Ad tertiam, he sayeth that he is not well remem-
THE LAST ABBOT OF COLCHESTER 103
bered of the year nor of the days that the said abbat had
the foresaid communications because he spoke at divers
times, and specially at such times as he heard that any
such matters were had in use, and furthermore of this
he is well remembered of that at such time as the monks
of Syon, the Bishop of Rochester, and Sir Thomas More
were put to execution, the said abbat would say that he
marvelled greatly of such tyranny as was
11 ■ < • 1 1 • -i Tyranny.
used by the king and his council to put
such holy men to death, and further the abbat said that
in his opinion they died holy martyrs and
in the right of Christ's Church.— ROBERT
ROWSE.
4. Ad quartam, he sayeth that the last time that ever
he heard the said abbat have any communication of
such matters was, immediately after that he heard of the
insurrection in the north parts, he sent for this examin-
ant to come to sup with him, and in the mean time that
supper was making ready the abbat and the examinant
were walking between the hall and the garden in a little
gallery off the ground, and then and there the abbat
asked of this examinant what news he heard of the coast?
and this examinant said that he heard none. Then the
abbat said : " Dost you not hear of the insurrection in
the north?" and this examinant said "no." Northern
" The northern lads be up and they begin men-
to take pip in the webe {sic) and say plainly that they
will have no more abbeys suppressed in their country;"
and he said to this examinant that the northern men
were as true subjects unto the king as anywhere within
his realm, and that they desired nothing of the king but
that they might have delivered unto their hands the
Archbishop of Canterbury, the Lord Chancellor, and
io4 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
the Lord Privy Seal ; and the abbat said " would to
God that the northern men had them, for
lord ' ht then (he said) we should have a merry-
be delivered world, for they were three arch-heretics,"
to the northern which term this examinant never heard
men.
before; and so then they went to supper,
and since this time, which was as this
examinant doth remember a fortnight or three weeks
before the feast of All Saints, was two years. — ROBERT
ROWSE.1
The evidence of Thomas Nuthake, a "physition," of
Colchester, is to the like effect. He had not, he said, to
his knowledge seen or known Abbot Thomas before his
election, although he had divers times repaired to the
abbey before that time. In reply to the third question,
this doctor " sayeth that concerning the marriage of
queen Anne this examinant remembers he hath heard the
said abbat say that the reason why the king's highness
did forsake the bishop of Rome was to the intent that
his majesty might be divorced from the lady dowager
and wed queen Anne, and therefore his grace refused to
take the bishop of Rome for the supreme head of the
Church, and made himself the supreme head."2
Another of the witnesses against the Lord Abbot of
Colchester was a cleric, John Seyn, who deposed that
when he had informed him of his neighbour, the Abbot
of St. Osyth's surrender of his monastery to the king, he
answered, " I will not say the king shall never have my
house, but it will be against my will and against my
1 R. O. State Papers, Dom., 1539, .3jj7. The marginal notes
copied from the original document, indicate the chief points on
which the examination turned.
a Ibid., s£6.
THE LAST ABBOT OF COLCHESTER 105
heart, for I know by my learning that he cannot take
it by right and law, wherefore in my conscience I
cannot be content, nor he shall never have it with my
heart and will." Whereunto John Scyn, clerk, answered
in this wise: " Beware of such learning as ye learned at
Oxenford when ye were young. Ye would be hanged
and ye are worthy. I will advise you to conform your-
self as a true subject, or else you shall hinder your
brethren and also yourself." '
Nothing more is known of Abbot Marshall's last days,
but the fact of his execution as a traitor on December
1st, 1539. The enamelled pectoral cross of the venerable
martyr has been preserved, and is now in the possession
of the Lord Clifford of Chudleigh. One one side it bears
the emblems of the Five Wounds, in the centre the
Sacred Heart of our Lord, surrounded by the crown of
thorns, above which is the inscription, " I.N.R.I.," and
below it the sacred monogram, " I.H.S." with the wounded
hands and feet of our Saviour. On the back the instru-
ments of the Passion are engraved. The following in-
scriptions in Latin appear in and about the cross : " May
the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ bring us out of
sorrow and sadness. This sign of the cross shall be in
the heavens when our Lord shall come to judgment.
Behold, O man! thy Redeemer suffers for thee. He
who will come after me, let him take up his cross and
follow me."
It is curious to observe how frequently in this world
malice defeats its own ends even when it takes the guise,
to some persons apparently so attractive, of doing God
a service. It is by a singular fate that the would-be
1 R. O. Crumwell Correspondence, xxxviii, No. 41.
io6 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
preacher, who gave himself so much trouble to defame
the three Abbots of Glastonbury, Reading and Colchester
and their companions, in the expectation doubtless of
thereby recommending himself to the king, should have
been, after three centuries and a half of oblivion, the
most explicit witness of the cause for which these vener-
able men gave up their lives in all the terrors of as
shameful and painful a death as man could devise.
The writer himself amid the periods which betoken
his unhappy spirit, seems to have been haunted still with
some forebodings that he was destined to make manifest
a truth which it was the evident design of those in power
to shroud in obscurity. He cannot help being truculent
even at his best; but the form which he adopts may well
be pardoned for the sake of the sense. " Is it not to be
thought, trow ye," he says, " that forasmuch as these
trusty traitors have so valiantly jeopardied a joint for
the Bishop of Rome's sake, that his Holiness will after
their hanging canvass them, canonise them, I would say,
for their labours and pains. It is not to be doubted but
his Holiness will look upon their pains as upon Thomas
Becket's, seeing it is for like matter."
Much has since happened which the writer of these
words could not have anticipated. In God's hands are
times and seasons, and He alone it is Who judges rightly
the acts and lives of men. The words of the wise man
fittingly rise up in the mind as it recalls the story of the
deaths of these holy abbots. " In the sight of the unwise
they seemed to die: and their departure was taken for
misery, and their going away from us for utter destruc-
tion: but they are in peace. And though in the sight
of men they suffered torments, their hope is full of im-
mortality. Afflicted in few things, in many they shall
APPENDIX I 107
be well rewarded ; because God has tried them and found
them worthy of Himself. As gold in the furnace He
hath proved them, and as a victim of a holocaust He hath
received them, and in time there shall be respect had unto
them." '
APPENDIX I
In view of the want of information as to the internal arrange-
ment of the monasteries on the eve of their suppression, caused
by the wholesale destruction of documents, and especially as
regards the music and church services, the following paper
printed in the Reliquary {New Series, vol. vi, p. 176) seems of
sufficient interest to be given here.
From the document it may be gathered that at Glastonbury
there were always three organists : a chief organist and master
of the singing boys, appointed for life; and two youths, who in
consideration of a musical education, were bound (after two
years' instruction) to serve as assistant organists for six years.
It must be understood that the chief duties of these organists
and of the singing boys were confined to the Masses and
offices chanted in the chapel of the Blessed Virgin. These
were, of course, not monastic, that is to say, they were outside
of the ordinary conventual life, and were not followed neces-
sarily by the monks. These services were evidently carried out
with every accessory calculated to call forth popular devotion
to the Blessed Virgin, and there can be little doubt that the
sweet strains of melody heard every day in this special sanc-
tuary of the Mother of God attracted thither high and low,
rich and poor, who might find as an ordinary rule but little to
call them to the more formal and simple offices daily said by
the monks themselves in the high choir.
It is this music in the chapels of Our Blessed Lady in
1 Wisd., iii, 2-0.
10S THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
monasteries apud Britannos, which calls forth the censures of
that occasionally severe and always erratic moralist Erasmus
(Anno/, ad i Cor. xiv, 26).
We have no means of saying whether on festival days the
monks of Glastonbury themselves used " that depraved kind of
chant called fanbourdon" though few persons at the present
day will be inclined to see in the use of what is called "har-
monised gregorians " any great enormity. It is, however, cer-
tain that on feasts and festal days the monastic offices in the
" High Choir " of Glastonbury were accompanied with such
beauty of music as the presence of the singing-school and the
playing upon the organs, under the care of the chief organist,
could give. For the rest the document will repay a careful
perusal, and for those who are interested in the subject of
ecclesiastical music in England at a time when it was assidu-
ously cultivated, the indications and suggestions which it gives
will be found to possess a high degree of interest. The spell-
ing of the document has been modernised.
" This indenture made the tenth day of August, the 26th
year of the reign of our Sovereign Lord King Henry VIII
[i.e., 1534], between the Right Reverend Father in God,
Richard Whiting, Abbot of the Monastery of Our Blessed
Lady of Glastonbury and the Convent of the same, in the
county of Somerset, of the one part, and James Renynger of
Glastonbury foresaid, in the said county, Singingman, of the
other part, witnesseth that the said James Renynger hath
covenanted and granted and agreed, and by these presents
covenants, grants, and agrees to serve the said Reverend
Father and Convent, and their successors in the Monastery of
Glastonbury foresaid, in his faculty of singing and playing
upon the organs [for the] term of his life as well in [the] daily
services of Our Lady kept in the chapel of Our Blessed Lady
in Glastonbury foresaid, as daily Matins, Masses, Evensongs,
Compline, Anthems and all other divine services as hath been
accustomably used to be sung in the said chapel of Our
Blessed Lady of Glastonbury before the time of these cove-
APPENDIX I 109
nants. And to do service in singing and playing upon the
organs in the high choir of Glastonbury foresaid on all and all
manner such feasts and festival days as hath been in times
past used and accustomed there.
"And in likewise to serve the said Reverend Father and his
successors with songs and playing on instruments of music as
in the times of Christmas and other seasons, as hath been
heretofore used and accustomed and at any other time or
times when the said James Renynger shall be thereunto
required by the said Reverend Father, his successor or assigns.
And further the said James Renynger covenants, grants and
agrees to instruct and teach six children always at the pleasure
of the said Reverend Father or his successors for the chapel of
Our Blessed Lady in Glastonbury, sufficiently, lawfully and
melodiously with all his diligence in pricksong and descant ; of
the which six children, two of them yearly to be sufficiently
instructed and taught by the said James Renynger in playing
on the organs for the space of two years; the said children to
be always chosen at the pleasure of the said Reverend Father
and his successors which he or they shall think to be most apt
thereto, so that the friends of the two children will be bound
in sufficient bonds that the said two children and any of them
shall serve the said Reverend Father and his successors in
singing and playing on the organs daily in the said chapel of
Our Lady and high choir of the Monastery of Glastonbury
aforesaid, and other times of the year in manner and form as
before rehearsed, for the space of six years next ensuing the
said two years of their teaching in singing and playing. And
the said Reverend Father and his successors shall find the said
James Renynger clavicords to teach the said two children to
play upon, for the which service well and truly done the said
Reverend Father and Convent covenants and grants to the
said James Renynger during his life as well in sickness as in
health ten pounds of lawful money of England, as well for his
stipend as for his meat and drink, at four principal times of the
year in equal portions at the Right Reverend Father's chequer
no THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
of receipt in Glastonbury to be taken and received, and also
once in every year his livery gown or else thirteen shillings and
fourpence in money for the said gown, always at the pleasure
and election of the said Reverend Father and his successors:
also two loads of wood brought home to the said James
Renynger's house or chamber (and his house rent free, or else
thirteen shillings and fourpence a year for it). Always (sup-
posing) that if it happen the said James Renynger be taken up
by virtue of any of the King's commissions, or by any authority
of his, to serve his grace, that if the same James Renynger
come to Glastonbury again within one year and one day the
next following, and so from thenceforth do his diligent service
in singing and playing on the organs, and teaching children at
all times and in everything accordingly in manner and form as
is before rehearsed, that then he should have his perpetuity
again without any interruption or let; and also if it happen the
said James Renynger does not do his diligence in teaching and
instructing the said six children in singing and playing, as is
before rehearsed, to the pleasure of the said Reverend Father
or his successors, or else if it happen that the said James be
sick or aged so that he cannot well and diligently instruct and
teach the said children, then it shall be lawful to the said
Reverend Father and his successors as Abbots, of the said ten
pounds (to deduct) for the teaching and instructing of the said
six children yearly 105s. \d.
" In witness whereof to the one part of these present inden-
tures remaining with the said James Renynger, the aforesaid
Reverend Father, Richard Whityng, Abbot of the foresaid
Monastery of Glastonbury, and Convent of the same have put
their convent seal and to the other part, remaining with
the said foresaid Reverend Father and Convent, the foresaid
James Renynger has put his seal.
"Given at Glastonbury aforesaid the day above said."
APPENDIX II in
APPENDIX II
The following is a translation of an old paper kept with the
pectoral cross of the last Abbot of Colchester. " This gold and
enamelled cross belonged to Abbot John Beche, last superior
of the Benedictine Abbey of St. John's, Colchester, in the
county of Suffolk in England. He was elected Abbot in 1523,
and refused, at the same time as the Abbots of Glastonbury
and Reading, the act by which Henry VIII, King of England,
was declared head of the Church, or to resign to his Majesty
the property of his abbey. For this reason he was convicted
of treason, and hanged in the said town of Colchester on
December 1st, 1539.
"This cross was preserved in the Mannock family, whose
seat was in the neighbourhood of Colchester, up to the
time of the last baronet, Sir George Mannock, who gave it to
the English Benedictine nuns then at Brussels, and since
settled in Winchester, where two of his sisters were nuns.
About the year 1788, the cross was given by the abbess of
that community to the late Mr. Weld, whose aunt had long
lived among them."
In this account there are certain inaccuracies which, how-
ever, do not affect the truth of the tradition as to the cross.
The Mannocks' family seat was Gifford Hall, not far from
Colchester and in the county of Suffolk. The Mannocks never
lost the Catholic faith, and at least four members of the family
were professed among the English Benedictine nuns of
Brussels in the last century. One of these, Dame Etheldreda
Mannock, was Abbess from 1762 to 1773. Three of the nuns
were sisters to Sir George Mannock, who presented Abbot
Beche's cross to the community. The Abbess, Etheldreda
Mannock, was succeeded in her office by Dame Mary Ursula
Pigott— a name, like that of Mannock, well known in the
English Benedictine Fasti of the last century, and to some
H2 THE LAST ABBOT OF GLASTONBURY
persons, perhaps, through the once well-known Catholic coun-
sel, Nathaniel Pigott, of Whitton, for whose family the poet
Pope, a near neighbour, entertained a high regard. It was this
Abbess who gave the cross to Mr. Weld.
During the office of Lady Abbess Pigott, the community
were forced by the Revolution to leave Brussels, and settled at
Winchester, whence in 1857 they removed to their present
abbey at East Bergholt, near Colchester.
From the Welds the cross passed through Cardinal Weld to
his only daughter, Lady Clifford. It afterwards came into the
possession of her son, the Hon. and Right Reverend William
Clifford, third Bishop of Clifton, at whose decease it passed
into the hands of his nephew, the present Lord Clifford of
Chudleigh, to whose kindness I am indebted for these details.
Autograph Signature of Abbot Whiting, from an original
letter in the record office (" rlc abbatt ther ")•
II
ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM IN
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY1
THE "dark ages" are often held responsible for
ideas wholly foreign to the mediaeval spirit. Eyes
also, usually keen enough for other things, not unfre-
quently appear to fail strangely when they peer into the
darkness which is supposed to shroud those centuries.
They see there what in fact does not exist, whilst they
pass over what is real without any intelligent interest.
Not only are shadows and illusions allowed to do duty
for realities; but creations of the essentially modern
mind and temper are projected into the past and sub-
jected to criticism as substantial objects deserving the
ridicule of a more enlightened age. It is strange, but
true, that of many students of past ages it may be said,
" Seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not under-
stand."
As a case in point we may take the question of the
Bible. In spite of all that has been written on the sub-
ject, it is still the general belief, even among well-
educated Englishmen, that the possession of the Holy
Scriptures was one of the most obvious and most im-
portant practical results of the Reformation to the world
at large. This notion in one form or another meets us
1 Published in the Dublin Review^ January, 1898.
I
ii4 ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM IN
at every turn. Again and again, for example, it has
been pointed out and proved to be a fact from written
records, that the very literature and language of the
Middle Ages is moulded and formed upon the Scrip-
tures. Still the result is the same; and the fundamental
article of popular belief is that it certainly was Pro-
testantism which in the sixteenth century gave to the
world any real knowledge of the Bible. It is this pre-
possession which prevents many from seeing the plain
evidence of its use and its study in the earlier centuries.
Few, however, even of those who do not allow them-
selves to be blinded by prejudice, really understand how
seriously and thoroughly the Scriptures were studied in
the so-called dark ages. How many are there, for
example, who realise the sound work in textual critic-
ism which characterised the scriptural studies of the
thirteenth century? Abroad, it is true, more attention
has been paid to the matter, and the eminent French
scholar, M. Samuel Berger, and others, have written on
this special subject. In England, however, this aspect of
their work has apparently failed to attract the notice it
deserves. This is all the more strange, since England,
or at least Englishmen and English scholarship, had a
very large share in the attempts made in that century
to secure a purer text of the Latin Vulgate version of
the Bible. My purpose in the following pages is to give
a slight sketch of the history of this important move-
ment, and specially in regard to the influence of English-
men in it.
Our knowledge in this, as in so many other matters
connected with the history of mediaeval thought and
work at this period, is mainly derived from the works
of Roger Bacon. In fact this illustrious Franciscan
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 1 15
philosopher had himself much to do with the subse-
quent correction of the Latin Bible on what may be
described as thoroughly sound principles of criticism.
Hody, long ago in his work, De Bibliorum tcxtibns, at
great length quoted the words of Bacon on the state of
the then received text, as giving the best, if not the only
reliable, account of the matter. He did not, however,
apparently, fully realise the extent of Bacon's personal
influence in the work of correction, nor how the lines of
sound critical investigation laid down by him were in
reality those upon which the subsequent rectification
of the sacred text was actually accomplished. Had
Clement IV, the Pope to whom Bacon addressed his
remarks in 1267, lived, he might in the thirteenth cen-
tury, with the assistance of the English Franciscan, have
anticipated the work of the Council of Trent in regard
to the Latin Vulgate.
In view of the part played by Bacon in so important
a matter as the determination of the text of the Bible, it
may be of interest to understand something of the
influences under which he received his early training.
It is not very difficult to see where he first derived his
ideas as to the paramount importance of biblical know-
ledge, which he holds must form the foundation of all
ecclesiastical studies. In fact, so strongly does he main-
tain this, that it is hardly too much to say that even his
scientific researches, for which he is so justly celebrated
are, in his mind, subordinated to their usefulness in
clearing up difficulties and more exactly determining the
sacred text.
Roger Bacon, according to his own account of him-
self written in A.D. 1267, commenced his studies about
forty years previously, or some time about A.D. 1227.
n6 ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM IN
He names as his chief masters at Oxford, Bishop
Grosseteste, Friar Adam Marsh, and Thomas Wallensis,
afterwards Bishop of St. David's. These three illus-
trious men had all taught in the Franciscan school at
the University ; and it was most probably owing to the
influence of that great churchman and scholar Grosse-
teste, for whom Bacon so frequently expresses unbounded
admiration, and possibly also the example of Adam
Marsh, who late in life had given up a distinguished
career as professor in the universities of Paris and Ox-
ford, that he himself joined the English Franciscans.
Of Adam Marsh and Bishop Grosseteste, their illus-
trious pupil speaks in terms of the highest praise. He
considers them, he says, " perfect in all knowledge," and
" the greatest clerics in the whole world, excelling in
all wisdom human and divine." l The Bishop of St.
David's he especially names as distinguished for his
great knowledge of foreign languages. These three had
themselves all been pupils of St. Edmund Rich, after-
wards Archbishop of Canterbury, and they had evi-
dently taken to heart their master's favourite maxim for
himself and his disciples: " Study as if you were to live
for ever; live as if you were to die to-morrow."
Shortly after the first establishment of the Franciscan
friars at Oxford, Eccleston tells us that their first Pro-
vincial in England, Friar Agnellus, " persuaded Master
Robert Grosseteste, of holy memory, to read lectures to
the brethren there." Owing chiefly to the reputation of
this great master, in a brief time the fame of the Fran-
ciscan school at Oxford had spread even beyond the
limits of this country, and through the influence of the
1 Bacon, Opera inedita (Rolls series), pp. 70, 74.
- Mon. Franciscana, i, p. 37.
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 117
bishop, other professors of learning and repute were in-
duced to come and lecture to the Oxford friars. The
foundation of a school of European reputation was the
result. The first of the Franciscans to read public
lectures at Oxford was Adam Marsh, who had joined
the friars in their first fervour, and became the eminent
instrument in the formation of that school from which
came a succession of celebrated Franciscan teachers
such as Richard of Coventry, John Wallis, Thomas
Docking, Thomas Bungay, associated in popular tradi-
tion with Roger Bacon, John Peccham, the Franciscan
Archbishop of Canterbury, Richard Middleton, Duns
Scotus, Occham, and Burley. The friars at Oxford
attained a world-wide renown. Lyons, Paris, and
Bologna had their first professors from the ranks of the
English Franciscans, whilst repeated requests were
made for English friars from Ireland, Denmark, France,
and Germany, and foreigners crossed the seas to study
in this English school, established by the learned and
devout Bishop Grosseteste. " The three schoolmen of
the most profound and original genius, Roger Bacon,
Duns Scotus, and Occham, were trained at Oxford. No
other nation can show anything like the results which
sprang from the English Franciscans of Oxford. Italy
produced its St. Thomas of Aquin and St. Bonaventure ;
Germany could boast its Albertus Magnus, and Spain
its Raymond Lully; but the Oxford friary was the
fruitful mother of almost every Franciscan schoolman
St. Bonaventure and Lully excepted." '
Grosseteste, the founder of this renowned body of
teachers, cannot have failed to impress upon the mind
of Roger Bacon his own veneration and love of Holy
1 Cf. Brewer, Mon. Franczscana, i, pp. lxxx, li.
u8 ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM IN
Scripture. Frequently, says Eccleston, the Bishop of
Lincoln urged the friars to study and sedulously to
occupy themselves in working at the Holy Bible.1 Nor
were his exhortations confined to the circle of his imme-
diate pupils among the Franciscans. As Chancellor of
the University he addressed his letters to the teachers in
the theological schools of Oxford, urging them to make
the Bible the foundation of all their lectures. " The
skilful builder," he says, " sees carefully that all the
stones put into a foundation are really proper for the
purpose , namely, that they are such as by their solidity
are fit and useful to support the building to be raised
upon them. You are the builders of the house of God,
raising it upon the foundation of the Apostles and
Prophets, etc. ; and the foundation-stones of the building
of which you are the architects — and no one can find
others or set others in the foundation — are the books of
the Prophets, amongst whom we must count Moses, the
law-giver, and the books of the Apostles and Evange-
lists. These foundation-stones you place and set in the
foundation of your building, when by the gift of dis-
cerning spirits you expound these books to your hearers
according to the mind of the writers. Take heed there-
fore with all diligence not to put among the foundation-
stones, nor to use as foundation-stones what are not
such, lest the strength of your building, made to rest
upon what is no true foundation, is first shaken and
then falls to ruin. The most proper time, moreover, for
placing and setting the said stones in the foundation
(for there is a fitting time for laying the foundation and
one for raising the building) is the morning hour when
you commonly read your lectures. It is proper, there-
' Cf. Brewer, Mon. Franciscana, i, p. 64.
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 119
fore, that all your lectures be taken especially at that
time, from the books of the Old or New Testament, lest
otherwise what are not really foundation-stones be laid
as if they were." '
Roger Bacon, at a later time, bitterly complains that
this supremacy of Holy Scripture in theological studies,
so strongly urged by the illustrious Grosseteste in the
foregoing letter, was not acknowledged in practice in
the University of Paris. Writing in A.D. 1267 to Pope
Clement IV, he points out that de facto the work, called
the Book of the Sentences, was preferred to the Bible
itself in the system of education pursued. The lector of
the Scripture lesson, he said, had even to beg the hour
of his lecture from the teacher of the Sentences. The
latter was regarded as par excellence the " Doctor of
Theology," whilst the former suffered from obvious
University disabilities. Whilst every other faculty, more-
over, took its text as the basis of the lectures delivered,
the text of the Bible, although all the ancient teachers
had made it the subject of their readings, was, when he
wrote in 1267, relegated to a secondary place in the
teaching of theology.
The Book of the Sentences, Bacon declares, was never
used by his old masters, Bishop Grosseteste, Brother
Adam Marsh, " and other of the greatest men " he had
seen. Alexander of Hales it was, he says, " who first
read the work," and even he merely used it sometimes,
just as the "Book of the Histories used to be, and still is,
read," that is, only very rarely. The work of Peter
Comestor on the Histories, the Franciscan philosopher
holds to be much more useful and necessary for theology
than the Lombard's work on the Sentences, because the
1 Roberti Grosseteste Epistolae (Rolls series), p. 346.
i2o ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM IN
first follows and explains the text of Holy Writ from
the beginning to the end, whereas the other does not do
so. For this reason, as he tells the Pope, he is strongly
of the opinion that if any theological summa is required,
it should be modelled upon the work of Peter Comestor
rather than upon that of Peter the Lombard. The use,
or rather, as he considers, the abuse, of the Book of the
Sentences, must, in his opinion, tend to make people
ignorant of the actual text of the Bible, or at best give
them but a very superficial and secondary knowledge
of it.1
As preparatory to the study of the Bible, or, at any
rate, as necessary for any revision of its text, Bacon
insists upon the absolute need of a fair knowledge of
Hebrew and Greek, and a thorough knowledge of Latin
grammatical construction.2 Here again we can without
difficulty recognise the influence of his Oxford training
in the school of Marsh and Grosseteste. The former, as
appears in a letter to the Minister-General of the Friars
Minor in England, when giving advice to a student
destined for Paris, strongly urged the need of investi-
gating the original works of the Fathers in any exposi-
tion of Holy Scripture.3 The latter was well known as
the patron of those devoted to the study of Greek,
Hebrew, and other foreign languages. In fact, England
had taken the initiative in these studies, and even before
the beginning of the thirteenth century Englishmen had
realised the importance of helping forward a movement
for the revival of letters. More than one of our country-
men was at work in foreign countries studying Eastern
languages and collecting precious manuscripts. Thus,
1 Opera inedita, pp. 329-330. - Ibid., p. 92.
J Mo//. Franc? scana, i.
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 121
to take an example, before the year 1200, Daniel de
Morlai had come back from Spain to England learned
in the languages and science acquired in the schools of
Toledo, and had brought with him to this island " a
precious number of books." It had grieved him, he says,
to find that even Aristotle and Plato had been so en-
tirely forgotten in the Western world, and until he re-
ceived encouragement from his friend and patron John
of Oxford, Bishop of Norwich,1 he even hesitated to
return for fear that he should be the only one among
those he calls the " Romans " to cultivate Greek studies.
In 1224 Pope Honorius III, and three years later Pope
Gregory IX, wrote to Cardinal Langton, Archbishop of
Canterbury, in behalf of another celebrated Englishman,
Michael Scot. He had studied at Oxford, Paris, and
Toledo, and proved himself to be well versed " not only
in Latin, but also in Hebrew and Arabic," by the trans-
lations he had made of Aristotle and other philosophers
for the use of students in the Universities of the Western
world.2 Of Grosseteste, the master he so much revered,
Bacon says that, though so learned as to be able " to
master anything he undertook, he still only knew lan-
guages well enough to understand the fathers, philo-
sophers, and wise men of the ancients, but that he did
not know them sufficiently well to translate properly
till towards the end of his life, when he sent for Greeks
and caused them to bring books of Greek grammar to
England from Greece and elsewhere." 3 The zeal of the
bishop, however, was well known where studies of this
kind were in question. He gave preferment to two
1 Arundel MS. 377, <"• 88.
2 Denifle, Chartularium Universit. Parz'sz'ensis, i, Nos. 48 and 54.
:! Opera inedita, p. 91.
122 ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM IN
ecclesiastics who were recognised as learned men: John
of Basing, Archdeacon of St. Alban's, who some time
about 1240 returned from Athens laden with Greek
manuscripts; and Nicholas, chaplain to the Abbot of
St. Alban's, surnamed the " Greek," who is said to have
assisted the bishop in some of his translations from the
Greek.
As regards biblical translations in particular, a certain
amount of evidence exists to show that even in this
there was real work done here in England. M. Samuel
Berger has pointed to manuscripts, all or nearly all in
English libraries, and chiefly at Oxford, which contain
portions of the sacred Scripture translated from Hebrew
into Latin in the thirteenth century. The eight manu-
scripts to which the writer refers contain, in all, the
translation of about one-half the entire Bible from the
original. Although the translator evidently was familiarly
acquainted with French, there is nothing in the circum-
stances inconsistent with his being of English nationality.
The French language was at the time as much the lan-
guage of the educated in this country as in France, and
the manuscripts are written in the characteristic English
writing of the period. M. Berger, after pointing this out,
adds: "It must not be forgotten that the school of
Oxford was one of the few Universities in the Middle
Ages where Hebrew was taught. Nor was there any
other seat of learning which could boast of such ability." '
Roger Bacon was thus prepared by his early associa-
tion with Grosseteste, Adam Marsh, and the Oxford
Franciscans generally, to face the many difficult ques-
tions which lay in the path of any one undertaking to
1 S. Berger, Quani Notitiam Linguae Hebraicae habuerunt Chris-
tiani medii aevi temporibns in Gallia, p. 49.
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 123
correct the then received text of the Latin Bible. To
understand what these difficulties were, it is necessary
very briefly to outline the history of the Vulgate. We
may conveniently take our sketch from the account of
the early translations given by the learned Barnabite,
Padre Vercellone. The Latin version made by St. Jerome
in the fifth century was in reality hardly used by the
Church until the influence of St. Gregory the Great in
the beginning of the seventh century caused it to be
very generally adopted. Before this, St. Jerome's ver-
sion was read and studied only by the learned few, or
was occasionally used to illustrate certain obscure pass-
ages in the ancient Latin version, known as the " Itala,"
as may be seen in the works of St. Augustine, Cassio-
dorus, etc. From the age of St. Gregory, however, St.
Jerome's version displaced the " Itala" almost entirely.
The new translation was used, cited, and read in the
churches in the public liturgy, and in time so completely
took the place of the ancient translation that no com-
plete copy of the latter is known to have survived. It
is possible, and indeed probable, that there had been
some authoritative direction as to the adoption of St.
Jerome's version ; and it is certain that by the beginning
of the eighth century, and still more in the ninth, scribes
multiplied this translation exclusively.
Inevitably, with the multiplication of manuscripts by
the pens of not always too-careful copyists, errors crept,
or rather flowed, into the sacred text in an almost con-
tinuous stream. Scribes who were used to the ancient
version seem not unfrequently to have unconsciously
introduced words and phrases from the ancient " Itala"
into the more recent translation. The result was con-
fusion. Before the close of the eighth century Charle-
124 ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM IN
magne had recognised the need for a careful revision,
and the illustrious Englishman, Alcuin, was employed
upon the correction of the corrupted text. This he did
from an examination of the oldest manuscripts, and not,
as was at one time supposed, by any comparison with
the original Hebrew and Greek. From this period — the
beginning of the ninth century — whether from the great
reputation of Alcuin, from the authority of Charlemagne,
from the intrinsic merit of the revision, or from all three,
the revised text of Alcuin became the accepted text of
the Latin Church. The evil, however, was not put an
end to. Errors began immediately once again to find
their way into the version, and even grew to greater
proportions than before, by the admixture of the old
and new texts, according to the whim and fancy of in-
dividual copyists.
Lanfranc, in the eleventh century, before becoming
Archbishop of Canterbury, did something to remedy the
ever-increasing confusion and again purify the text which
then, as a contemporary says, " was by the carelessness
of the scribes greatly corrupted." But this, as a matter
of course, did not stay the evil for long, and by the
middle of the next century we have the testimony of
Nicholas, the Deacon-librarian of the Holy Roman
Church, that the words of St. Jerome about the state
of things in his day were again applicable, and " there
were almost as many versions as there were manu-
scripts."
Nor is this the verdict of an individual : the unreliable
character of the text was at this time fully recognised in
the University of Paris, and many efforts were made to
correct it. Our chief information about these essays in
correction comes from Roger Bacon, whom Vercellone
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 125
in this regard styles " Uomo di maraviglioso ingenio e
di erudizione incredibile." Hody quotes at great length
Bacon's remarks on the unsatisfactory nature not only
of the text itself, but of the attempts made to correct it.
Writing, as I have said, in 1267 to Pope Clement IV,
the Franciscan says that the Paris edition of the Vulgate
was published about forty years previously. He is not
far wrong, for M. Berger tells us that the most ancient
known copy of this edition is dated in A.D. 1231. This
manuscript, it is not uninteresting to note, was written
at Canterbury, where Cardinal Langton had for some
years been archbishop.1 Langton's connection with
biblical studies is well known: as Chancellor of the
University of Paris he had been eminent, as an earnest
student of the sacred Scriptures, and it was to him that
the present division of the Bible into chapters, etc., is to
be attributed.
It is impossible to describe here all that was under-
taken by the University of Paris during the reign of
St. Louis in regard to biblical scholarship, and in par-
ticular to remedy the unsatisfactory state to which the
text of the Vulgate had been reduced by ill-considered
corrections, as much as by the almost unavoidable errors
of copyists. " The study of the Bible," says M. Berger,
speaking of this period, " was taken up with an enthusi-
asm which we can hardly conceive." Foremost amongst
those who strove to improve the text of the sacred writ-
ings must be named the Paris Dominicans, who, in A.D.
1236 and in A.D. 1248 produced two corrected editions
of the entire Bible. No sooner was the first put into
circulation than it was found to be faulty, and a second
was undertaken, under the direction of Friar Hugh de
1 S. Berger, ot>. cit., p. 26.
126 ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM IN
Saint-Cher, who, before its completion, was made Car-
dinal in 1248. In A.D. 1256 the General Chapter of the
Dominicans forbade the use of the " Bible of Sens," or,
as we now know it to be, the first Dominican correction
of the text. The second, or Great Bible of Hugh de
Saint-Cher, which took its place, became that commonly
used by the professors in the Dominican schools of
Paris, and was that quoted by St. Thomas of Aquin in
his works.1
But there were others at work: the University of
Paris established — or rather, perhaps, approved — a re-
vision of the text to which Bacon chiefly refers, and
which he calls the " Exemplum vulgatum, hoc est Paris-
iense?" This, we are told, did not much differ from the
Dominican text, and there is evidence to show that the
very copy used by Cardinal de Saint-Cher for his correc-
tions was a copy of the University text.2 This version
itself was due in part at least, if not wholly, to the
labours of an English Franciscan friar named William
Briton.3
What, it may be asked, was the substantial effect of
these attempts to improve the biblical text in the thir-
teenth century? In the event, did they make it more
reliable? It is in answer to this question that the opinion
of Roger Bacon becomes of such value and interest. In
1267 he declares that the text of the Paris copy was
most seriously corrupted; and, where not corrupt, was
very doubtful. At this date, it may be remarked, most
of the attempts at correction had been made, and the
1 S. Berger, Des essais qui out cte' fails d Paris mi \yne siecle
pour corriger le iexte de la Vulgate, pp. 48-49.
2 S. Berger, p. 51.
8 Berger, Qua7n notitiam, etc., ut sup., p. 26.
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 127
Franciscan philosopher had them distinctly before his
mind when he wrote. The corruption of the text, he
says, had mainly come from the disputes of the various
correctors, " for there were as many correctors, or rather
corrupters, as there were readers. Every one presumes
to change anything he does not understand : a thing he
would not dare to do for the books of the classical
poets." l The evil is, he considers, most grave, for the
false text is very extensive, and the necessary correc-
tions consequently immense. For forty years previously
many theologians, and an almost infinite number of
copyists in Paris, have taken this edition as the model
to follow, and the scribes, by making many changes of
their own, have added greatly to the corruption of the
true text. Then modern theologians, not being able to
examine the copies in the first instance, trusted to the
scribes; but subsequently they came to understand the
errors, defects, and numerous additions. They conse-
quently proposed again to make their own corrections,
and the two Orders of Dominicans and Franciscans had
already commenced their work of changing the received
text. Inasmuch, however, as there was no head to direct
them, each one had up to that time made what altera-
tions he deemed best. The consequence is obvious:
since they have had a variety of opinions as to the true
meaning to be expressed, the variations of text which
have resulted are endless.2
Once commenced, the mania — for we can hardly de-
scribe it in any other way — for correcting the Latin text
constantly grew. Every professor, as Bacon in another
place informs us, made changes at his own sweet will.
Amongst the Friars Minor and the Dominicans this was
1 Opera inedita, p. 330. - Ibid., p. ^33-
128 ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM IN
so, whilst secular teachers were not behind-hand. When
any one did not understand something, he changed the
text to accord with what he thought it should be. " The
Dominicans, in particular," he says, " have busied them-
selves in thus correcting. Twenty years and more ago
they presumed to make an entire corrected copy of the
Scriptures and had it multiplied, but subsequently they
made another and forbade the first." ' The changes in
this second revision were so extensive that in quantity
they were more than the whole New Testament, and
even by reason of their very quantity they contained
more errors than the first correction.2 In this way the
Dominicans, more than others, changed about the sacred
text, not knowing exactly what they were at. Conse-
quently, in Bacon's opinion, their correction was really
the most pernicious corruption, and even the manifest
destruction of the Word of God. For his part, he thinks
it much less hurtful — and, indeed, without comparison
much better — to use the uncorrected Paris version, bad
as it is, than the Dominican version, or, indeed, any
other.
Whilst making allowances for the best intentions, the
Franciscan blames his own Order as well as that of
St. Dominic, and this not only as a body, but individual
members of it. Those, he says, who have in all truthful-
ness attempted to correct the text of the Bible as far as
they can, are the two Orders of Preachers and Minors.
Already they have prepared corrections which in point
of size would be more than the whole Bible. They con-
tend, he adds, one with another in numberless ways, and
not merely the Orders one against the other, but the
1 Opera itiedita, p. 333.
2 Otrns Maius,ed. Bridges, i, p. 78.
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 129
brethren of both Orders contradict the opinions of other
brethren even more than do the two Orders themselves.
Indeed, every master may be said to contradict every
other master; and correctors, following one after the
other, strike out or alter previous corrections to the
infinite scandal and confusion of all.
As the fertile causes of errors in the text, Bacon notes
negligence in following the readings of the ancient Bibles,
and the prevailing ignorance of Greek and Hebrew. The
text, he says, has come to us from the Hebrew and
Greek, and has in it a vast number of words derived
from those languages; and beyond this, modern theo-
logians and correctors, who do not know the Latin
language as St. Jerome did, do not, in their ignorance,
hesitate to change the ancient grammatical construction.
But what perhaps, more than anything, had led to the
grave corruption of the sacred text was, that people did
not realise what the translation was which the Latin
Church used, or to which it lent the weight of its
authority. For, finding the text changed according to
the mind of any individual, the common run of theo-
logians did not stop to consider whether the translation
was or was not that of St. Jerome at all; but concluded
that it was some other version made up and compiled
from various other versions. Under this idea they used
their own words to supersede the received text as they
liked. The idea that this received text was not that of
St. Jerome's translation was most false. The Latin
Church, Bacon points out, makes use only of this transla-
tion, except for the Psalter, which is a translation of the
Septuagint, and remained in use, because this version of
the Psalms was so common in the Church of God before
St. Jerome translated them, that it was found practically
K
130 ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM IN
impossible to supersede it. The only version of the
Bible, however, used by the Church is certainly that
made by St. Jerome, though, unfortunately, it has been
seriously changed for the worse by a succession of scribes
and correctors into the Paris edition.
Bacon then goes on to describe at considerable length
the origin of the various translations before that of
St. Jerome, and to explain the correct meaning of the
word Vulgate as applied to the Latin version authorised
by the Church. In following his lengthy argument the
reader cannot fail to be impressed by the range of read-
ing in the history of the early translations which the
learned Franciscan displays, and by his extensive ac-
quaintance with the works of the Fathers. Josephus,
Origen, Eusebius, and other ancients are freely quoted,
evidently with full knowledge of their writings. Bacon
points out, too, that people in ignorance have taken
various quotations from Holy Scripture which they have
read in the works of the ancient Fathers, and, on the
supposition that they represented the approved Vulgate
version, have without hesitation substituted them for the
ordinary text. Some even have adopted the words of
Josephus as true Scripture, whilst others again have cor-
rected their versions to accord with the various quota-
tions from the Bible read in the liturgy of the Church in
which, as is well known, the actual wording had fre-
quently been changed to facilitate public reading, and
even to assist devotion. In brief, the general belief, when
Bacon wrote, was that the Latin version then in use did
not in any way represent the approved Vulgate ot
St. Jerome, and that even individuals were fully at liberty
" to put into it what they liked, to alter and change any-
thing they did not understand." Bacon pleads that this
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY
m
state of things should be put an end to at once ; that
they should be told by authority that the only recog-
nised text was that translated by St. Jerome, and that
the only attempt at revision must be an authorised en-
deavour to recover that text in its early purity.
It is for this that he appeals to the Pope. He states
that in his opinion nothing can be suggested for remedy
to the Holy See of greater importance than the then
corrupted state of the sacred text.1 For without any
possibility of doubt, he says, I prove by a demonstra-
tion, overwhelming in its force, that the whole text of
the copies in common use is false and doubtful; and
doubt ever has the same effect upon a wise man as fear
has upon a brave one.2
" Roger Bacon," writes M. Berger, impassioned but
clear-sighted in his criticisms, considered that " the
would-be correctors of the thirteenth century had by
their work rendered the corruption of the text incurable.
Seeing correction follow upon correction, the reader
knew not whom to believe. . . . The most learned men
of the age of St. Louis lacked something which not all
the teaching of the Paris University was able to give
them, namely, the scientific spirit. It is much that in the
thirteenth century they knew the need of applying
Hebrew and Greek to the correction of the Vulgate, but
it must be remembered that it was not a question of
Hebrew but of the text of St. Jerome, and that to estab-
lish the text of a version, the study of the original is
dangerous when not directed with prudence and sobriety.
Hugh de Saint-Cher and his disciples with their methods
could only succeed in making the text of the Bible still
1 Opus Majtis, ed. Bridges, i, p. yy.
- Vatican Preface (Eng. Hist. Review), July, 1897, p. 514.
132 ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM IN
worse, and Roger Bacon was not wrong in proving this
to them."1
It was precisely in "the scientific spirit" that Bacon
desired that the question of correcting the text of the
Bible should be approached. He demanded that the
most scientific method should be applied to the restora-
tion of St. Jerome's version of the Vulgate. Put briefly,
the principles upon which in his opinion the necessary
corrections should be based were — (i) unity of action
under authority; (2) a thorough consultation of the most
ancient manuscripts; (3) the study of Hebrew and Greek
to help where the best Latin manuscripts left room for
doubt; (4) a thorough knowledge of Latin grammar and
construction; and (5) great care in distinguishing be-
tween St. Jerome's readings and those of the more ancient
version. Upon the consultation of the older manuscripts
Bacon laid great stress, and reminded the Pope of the
advice given by St. Augustine: " If variations are found
in Latin codices, recourse must be had to ancient manu-
scripts and to several copies. For ancient copies are to
be considered before newer ones, and a reading found
in many before that of a few. And [he adds] all the old
Bibles which lie in the monasteries which are not yet
glossed or touched, have the true translation which the
Holy Roman Church received from the beginning and
ordered to be spread in all the churches." These, he
says, on examination would be found to be quite different
from the Paris copies, which then passed as the current
version." This latter is one manuscript against the al-
most infinite number to be found in the various provinces,
and must therefore give way to their reading, both as
1 S. Berger, De FHistoire de la Vulgate en France, p. 1 3.
■ Opus Majus, ed. Bridges, i, p. 78.
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 133
being more recent, and as contradicted by the multitude
of these ancient manuscripts.1
Roger Bacon's works are sufficient proof that he was
fully entitled to speak with authority on the question of
the revision of the Latin Vulgate. The passages dealing
with the matter in the Opus Majus, and even more so the
long treatment of the question in the Opus Minus, prove
that he had prepared himself most carefully by a thorough
study of the matter. In fact, it would almost appear as
if, when writing to Clement IV in 1267, he had already
drawn up a special tract dealing directly with the pro-
posed correction, or, at any rate, that he was ready to
furnish the Pope with a text fully amended in accord-
ance with the principles he had set down, and an accurate
justification of the needful corrections. "This example
of the errors," he says in the Opus Minus, " together with
what I state in the third and fourth parts of my Opus
{Majus), may suffice until such time as your Holiness re-
quire the correction of the whole text, with the certain
proofs (of the truth) of the correction." 2
And that something of this was really ready would
seem to be implied by the words of the preface to the
Opus Majus, published for the first time in the English
Historical Review. " This particular and special proof
can be presented to your Wisdom when you shall order.3
In this laborious undertaking, however, Bacon expressly
says that he had been aided and had associated with him-
self a student who had toiled at scriptural work during
many years. In the Opus Minus he thus speaks to the
Pope of this biblical scholar: " In the Church you have
subjects who are fully able (to make the much-needed
1 Opera inedita, p. 330. 2 Ibid., p. 333.
J Eng. Hist. Review, July, 1897, p. 516.
134 ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM IN
corrections in the Latin text of the Bible and to justify
their work), though the errors are most grave, both by
reason of their number and the serious nature of their
falsity." l
In the Opus Tertium, he speaks somewhat more clearly
about the learned man who could do so much in this
matter. " It is necessary," he writes, "that to be able to
correct properly, a man should know Greek and Hebrew
sufficiently well, and his Latin grammar really well
according to the works of Priscian, and that he shall
have considered the principles and method of correcting,
as well as the way to justify his corrections, so as to
correct with knowledge. This no one ever has done
except the wise man I have spoken about. Nor is this
to be wondered at, for he has spent nearly forty years
in the correction of the text and in explaining its literal
sense. All others are but idiots in comparison with him,
and know nothing about the subject." '
In another place the Franciscan speaks of the great
knowledge of foreign languages possessed by this un-
named biblical scholar, whom in this respect he thinks
worthy to be compared with Grosseteste, Bishop Thomas
Wallensis, and Friar Adam Marsh. " Some old men are
still living," he writes in 1267, "who know a great deal,
like him who is so wise in the study of Holy Scripture,
who has never had an equal since the time of the Fathers
in correcting the text and explaining its literal sense."
Still more clearly again does he speak about this
wonderful man in the Vatican Preface just named, when
he offers to send to the Pope the special and particular
proofs of his suggested corrections. "But not by me
alone," he says, " but much more by another who has
1 Opera inedita, p. 333. s Ibid., p. 93.
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 135
worked at this matter for thirty years and has sketched
out the whole mode of correcting, what is required for it,
and what can be accomplished, provided that assistance
be given in the matter of books in other languages. For
already this man would have given certain specimens [of
his corrections] had he possessed a Greek and Hebrew
Bible and a book of etymologies in those languages such
as are as common with them as Isidore and Papias are
with us, and of which copies are to be found even in
England, in France, and in many places in the hands of
Christians. With these books this man would give the
true text and a reliable exposition of the literal sense
so that any one could then understand God's Word with-
out difficulty and labour. . . . And, as all philosophy is
understood by the exposition of the wisdom of God,
what in this regard is wanting in this man can by your
help and command be sufficiently supplied by others." l
Unfortunately, as in so many other instances where
we would gladly have some information as to the names
of people mentioned by Bacon, he fails us. It would
certainly be interesting to know who this man was, so
learned in the Holy Scripture as to call forth the un-
reserved praises of the illustrious Roger Bacon. So
diligent a student of biblical texts during thirty or forty
years, and one who, even when Bacon wrote in 1267,
had apparently already prepared a critical and scientific
correction of the Bible, can hardly have passed away
without leaving some trace of his long and laborious
investigations, and without in some way or other inscrib-
ing his name on the page of history. It may be taken
for granted that the principles upon which the correction
of the Bible would have been undertaken by this un-
1 Eng. Hist. Review, p. 516.
136 ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM IN
named scholar were entirely in accord with those laid
down by Bacon. In fact, we may almost suppose from
the words already quoted from the Vatican manuscript,
that they had collaborated in the work, at least to some
extent. Is there any evidence of such a work ever having
existed ?
To answer this question it is necessary to make a few
preliminary observations. In several libraries of Europe
there are extant certain manuals made during the course
of the thirteenth century, with the object of furnishing
copyists with the means of correcting the Bibles they
were engaged to copy. These manuals are called
Correctoria, and one such volume is now in the British
Museum,1 whilst the actual manual from which the great
Dominican Bible of Saint-Cher was corrected is in the
National Library at Paris. Many other Correctoria more
or less founded upon this latter, are known to students
of the subject. Vercellone has furnished us with an
account of three manuscripts of this kind now in the
Vatican. The three have some connection one with the
other, and they all not only correct the errors of tran-
scription and the still more serious errors of rash critics,
but point to the existence of much larger works of the
same kind. The author of the third has certainly known
of the existence of the work upon which the second and
to a less extent the first is founded, although it is not,
like them, founded upon it. This third is in all ways the
most important: not only is it much more extensive, but
it is a characteristic of the writer that he rarely cites the
authority of any ancient author, and he says expressly
that he underlines all words which do not fully agree
with the Hebrew, Greek, or ancient Latin. This Correc-
1 MS. Reg. 1 A. viii.
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 137
foriuin is also markedly more scientific than the other
two, and it is based precisely upon those principles
which, as we have seen, Bacon laid down as the only
proper principles to ensure any proper correction of the
text. Vercellone has no hesitation in classing these three
Vatican Correctoria as follows: Nos. 1 and 2 are drawn
up for the purposes of a correction of the text similar to
that undertaken by the Dominicans, and No. 3 for some
such rectification of the Bible as that suggested by Roger
Bacon. In fact, the learned Barnabite suggests, some-
what tentatively and timidly it is true, that the real
author may have been Bacon himself.
M. Berger, in more than one work, has written a good
deal about this, to him, most interesting and important
manuscript, known as the Correctorium Vaticanum. If
other Correctoria, he says, are necessarily the work of
learned men, the author of this must have been a real
scholar. The others are the works of bibliographers, this
of a critic who knew what the true science of criticism
was. He was acquainted with Hebrew and Greek, knew
the value of manuscripts and how to make the best use
of them. He has made researches too, has looked every-
where for the oldest, because the best, codices ; has
worked in the library of Sainte Genevieve, has examined
the Bible of Charlemagne at Metz, and has studied the
Codex Amiatinus in Italy. He is wise and learned and
patient. Vercellone says that he shows himself to be of
"vast learning and of right judgment." The object of
all his criticism is the restoration of the true text of
St. Jerome and the removal of every trace of the " Itala,"
of the Greek, and of the Latin translation of the Sep-
tuagint from the then accepted version. In any doubt
he consults the originals, he distinguishes between manu-
138 ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM IN
scripts of France and of Spain, and he has read St. Mat-
thew in the Hebrew. It is quite remarkable what stress
he lays upon the examination of ancient manuscripts,
such as the Bible of Charlemagne, of the more ancient
manuscripts written before the time of Alcuin, and he
cites what he calls the Bible of St. Gregory the Great.
When the manuscripts disagree the author of the
Correctorium Vaticanum adopts St. Jerome's principle
and has recourse to the Hebrew, but he warns students
not to be unfaithful to the Latin text on the strength of
a single Hebrew or Greek version. His work is aimed
directly against correctors of the type of Cardinal Hugh
de Saint-Cher, and he strongly objects to those who
would cut out of the Latin every word not found in the
Greek and Hebrew, words which had been introduced
into the Vulgate text for the sake of clearness of ex-
pression. This, says M. Berger, after an examination of
the principles which guided the author in the composi-
tion of his Correctorium, is " true criticism, and we could
do no better to-day." And this, he adds, was a criticism
two centuries and a half before the coming of Erasmus.1
The same eminent writer says that for himself he does
not much care what may be the actual name of this
anonymous critic of the thirteenth century, for with
Vercellone he thinks one may safely recognise in him
the biblical scholar referred to by Roger Bacon and in
evident relation to him, but whose name, alas! the Fran-
ciscan philosopher does not give.
" This much," says M. Berger, " is certain, that we
must look for this scholar, who was born out of due
time, among the disciples of that precursor of modern
science, Roger Bacon. Either he had the Opus Majus
1 De FHistoire de la Vulgate en France, p. 1 5.
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 139
under his eyes or he received the counsels of its author:
the spirit is the same, and the style, though less virulent
and personal, is the same. Thus we are brought back to
the school of the doctor mirabilis [Roger Bacon], to the
school of that mysterious savant who had such astound-
ing lights on all the sciences, but for whom no study
possessed greater fascination than the correction of the
biblical text." '
In another work the same writer suggests from in-
ternal evidence that the author of the Correctorium
Vaticanum, which manifests the same critical spirit in
every part as that of the illustrious Franciscan philo-
sopher, Bacon, was in all probability a Frenchman. He,
however, confesses that the slight indications are hardly
sufficient to warrant any certain conclusion, particularly
as Roger Bacon was a man of all countries.2 Later on,
however, owing to a discovery of a manuscript at Einsie-
deln, made by the Dominican, Father Denifle, M. Berger
was enabled to give the actual name of the great biblical
critic named by Bacon in his works, who was almost
certainly the author of the Correctorium Vaticanum. To
us it can hardly fail to be a matter of great interest to
know that he was another Englishman, himself also a
member of the Order of St. Francis. His name is Friar
William de Mara or de la Mare,! and he is another of
the illustrious pupils in the school established by Bishop
Grosseteste for the sons of St. Francis at Oxford. De la
Mare has indeed long been known for his attack upon
the teaching of St. Thomas of Aquin, called Correc-
torium Operum fratris T/iomae, and some have even
1 De VHistoire de la Vulgate en France, p. 15.
2 Ibid., p. 65.
3 S. Berger, Quam notitiam, etc., ut supra, p. 35.
140 ENGLISH BIBLICAL CRITICISM
considered that "the serious part of the work was directly
inspired by Bacon," ] but, until the discovery above
referred to, he was not recognised as the author of a
work which before all others laid down sound principles
of true scientific criticism upon which to base a correc-
tion of the Vulgate text. It is not uninteresting too, to
recognise in the biblical scholar referred to by Bacon,
and so greatly praised for his wisdom, learning, and in-
dustry, another English Franciscan, and to add his name
to the many of our countrymen who were in the Middle
Ages renowned for their work of textual criticism.
Whatever may have been the immediate result of his
labours, in the end the principles he enunciated were
those upon which the Vulgate text was corrected, and
we may say with M. Berger that the result of the labours
of this critic and others in the thirteenth century was
certainly to " render the Bible more reverenced, was to
make it better known and without doubt better loved."
' Little, The Grey Friars in Oxford, p. 215.
Ill
ENGLISH SCHOLARSHIP IN THE
THIRTEENTH CENTURY1
THE most trustworthy account that we possess of
the condition of learning at the eve of the thir-
teenth century comes from the pen of an Englishman —
John of Salisbury. This great man, who died in A.D. 1 180
finished his twelve years' study in Paris and elsewhere
probably about the middle of the twelfth century. What
he says in the Metaiogiats, as to his training, though it
may seem somewhat remote from the present subject, is
worth quoting:
" When I was a very young man," he says, " I went to
study in France, the second year after the death of that
lion in the cause of justice, Henry, King of England
[i.e., 1 1 36]. There I sought out that famous teacher and
Palatine peripatetic philosopher [Abelard] who then
presided at Mount St. Genevieve, and was the subject of
admiration to all men. At his feet I received the rudi-
ments of this art {i.e., rhetoric), and manifested the
utmost avidity to pick up and store away in my mind
all that fell from his lips. When, however, much to my
regret, Abelard left us, I attended Master Alberic, a
most obstinate dialectician and unflinching assailant of
the nominalist sect.
1 Published in Dublin Review, October, 1898.
141
142 ENGLISH SCHOLARSHIP IN
" Two years I stayed at Mount St. Genevieve under the
tuition of Alberic and Master Robert de Melun, if I may
so term him, not from the place of his birth, for he was
an Englishman, but by the surname which he gained
by the successful conduct of his schools. One of these
teachers was scrupulous even to minutiae, and every-
where found some subject to raise a dispute, for the
smoothest surface presented inequalities to him, and
there was no rod so smooth that he could not find in it
some knot and show how it might be removed. The
second (that is the Englishman who afterwards became
Bishop of Hereford), was prompt to reply, and never for
the sake of subterfuge avoided any question that was
proposed; but he would choose the contradictory side,
or by many words would show that a simple answer
could not be given. In all questions, therefore, he was
subtle and profuse, whilst the other in his answers was
perspicuous, brief, and to the point. If two such char-
acters could ever have been united in the same person,
he would be the best hand at disputation that our times
have produced. Both of them possessed acute wit and
indomitable perseverance, and I believe they would have
turned out great and distinguished men in physical
studies if they had supported themselves on the great
base of literature and more closely followed in the tracks
of the ancients."
From this account it is clear that academic education
in the early days of the Paris schools was chiefly con-
fined to dialectics and such kindred subjects as were
considered best fitted to sharpen wits for keen disputa-
tion. The genius of John of Salisbury, himself a child of
scholasticism, enabled him to put his finger upon the
danger to true education inherent in the system. In
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 143
common with the two masters he names, the scholastics
very generally lacked " the great base of literature" and
neglected to follow " in the tracks of the ancients," and
in their minute and strictly scientific examination of the
form often neglected the substantial reality behind it.
This was the defect of the system against which a
century later another English scholar, Roger Bacon,
protested loudly, and his condemnation could hardly be
better summarised than in the words used a hundred
years before by John of Salisbury.
In this sketch of the education given in the schools of
Paris in the twelfth century, we have distinct evidence,
however, of a stirring of the waters, and of a striving to
increase the narrow limits of general knowledge. Already
there were some who were looking even to the East and
to Greece for the " great base of literature, and seeking
to find again there the tracks of the ancients." Adelard
the Englishman, a monk of Bath, and a teacher of
renown in Paris, had travelled in Egypt, Greece, Asia
Minor, and in Moorish Spain, to seek for science un-
known to the nations of the West. His works contain
evidence of his proficiency in the liberal arts, even in
astronomy, but with what seems to us in these days
some curious limitations. Of Aristotle, for example, he
he knew little or nothing, and, like John of Salisbury,
regarded this light of ancient learning merely as an
authority on logic, then the all important branch of
education. If the latter, John of Salisbury, was ac-
quainted with Greek as a language at all, there is nothing
to show it in his voluminous writings, nor, indeed, in
those of Adelard of Bath. Hardly later, however, we
catch the first impressions of a change. In 1 167 there is
some evidence of a desire to procure Greek manuscripts
144 ENGLISH SCHOLARSHIP IN
from the East, for in that year a certain William, a
doctor of medicine and monk of St. Denis, returned to
Paris from Constantinople, bringing with him many
precious Greek codices, to seek for which he had been
sent to the East by his abbot.
But this, after all, can only be regarded as an isolated
instance, and, as it were, an indication of a real renais-
sance at hand. It was not till the thirteenth century had
begun that a closer connection between West and East
brought about a greater knowledge of Greek writers and
of Eastern literature generally. Just as in the fifteenth
century it was the capture of Constantinople by the
Turks, which immediately secured the triumph of the
new learning, so it was the taking of the same imperial
city by the Crusaders, and the establishment of the Latin
Empire of the East in 1204, that brought the peculiar
genius of Greek thought and the subtle power of Greek
models to bear upon the thought of the Western world.
It is difficult to-day to realise all that Constantinople
was in the thirteenth century. As a city it was the
storehouse of the accumulated wealth of ages, and it
displayed untouched monuments of the Roman Empire
and of ancient Greek art. Its population, estimated by
some at over a million, was greater, ten, twenty times
greater, if not more, than that of the then existing
cities of London and Paris ; in fact, it more than out-
numbered the inhabitants of the chief cities of the
Western world taken collectively. " In magnificence,"
says Hallam, " she excelled them more than in num-
bers ; instead of the thatched roofs, the mud walls, the
narrow streets, the pitiful buildings of those cities, she
had marble and gilded palaces, churches and monas-
teries, the works of skilful architects ; whilst in the
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 145
libraries of Constantinople were collected the remains
of Greek learning."
This was the city, rich alike in its monuments of
ancient art and its evidences of ancient learning which,
hitherto closed against the nations of Europe, was thrown
open to the Western world by the Latin conquest of
1204. Already there were signs of a wish to profit by
such an event on the part of those more immediately
concerned in the fields of learning. There were indica-
tions of an awakening, of a yearning, after the knowledge
of the ancients, and of a desire to know something of
the languages of the peoples with which the three great
crusades had brought the Christian nations into contact.
Perhaps it is not too much to say that the best result of
the crusading efforts — certainly one of the most obvious
and lasting — was the effect they had upon the education
of Christendom by bringing the nations of Europe into
relation with Greeks and Arabs, and with the many-
tongued peoples of Asia and Africa. The influence
of the East can be traced almost immediately in all
branches of knowledge and modes of thought: in the
languages and literature, and in the sciences and arts of
Western nations. Inspired probably by the tales of
returned crusaders, travellers and scholars had, by the
beginning of the century, penetrated into regions long
unexplored, and by their strange travellers' tales, and
even more by the literary spoils they brought back with
them, they helped to turn men's thoughts in the same
direction. Thus, to take one example of such enter-
prise: we find that just at this time one Englishman,
Daniel de Morlai, had returned to England, and en-
couraged by his friend, John of Oxford, Bishop of Nor-
wich, had brought back to his native country a number
L
146 ENGLISH SCHOLARSHIP IN
of precious manuscripts and a practical knowledge of
the Greek language, acquired apparently in the Arabic
schools of Toledo. He appears almost as the first herald
of the coming spring, and the statement of his fear lest
he should be the only one among his countrymen —
whom he calls " the Romans " — to cultivate the Greek
tongue is at least sufficient evidence of how completely
this learning had died out in England, as indeed in
Europe generally. For this reason alone the name of
Daniel de Morlai deserves to be remembered with honour,
and his own brief account of his search after learning is
not uninteresting.
" When some time since," he writes, " I departed from
England to study, and remained for a while in Paris, I
there saw certain animals \bestiales\ teaching in the
schools with great authority. They had before them two
or three desks on which were placed large codices illu-
minated with golden letters representing the traditional
teachings. Holding leaden styles in their hands, they
reverentially marked their books with asterisks and
stops. These men were like statues in their ignorance,
and their silence alone they desired to be taken for
wisdom. When they attempted to open their mouths I
found they were childish, and when I saw this to be
their case, for fear that I might fall into the same evil way,
that is, be content with the art of illustrating or epitom-
ising works not worth even a passing consideration, I
took serious counsel with myself. And inasmuch as the
teaching of the Arabs at Toledo (which is almost en-
tirely imparted in the Quadrivium) is in these days
highly praised, I hastened thither to listen to the wisest
philosophers in the world. At length, invited and pressed
by my friends to return from Spain, I came back to
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 147
England with a number of precious manuscripts. When,
however, I heard that there was in these parts no liberal
education, and that to make way for Titius and Seius,
Aristotle and Plato were forgotten, I was greatly grieved ;
and, for fear lest I should be the only Greek among the
Romans, I remained where I understood these studies
flourished. On my journey, however, I met my lord and
spiritual father, John, Bishop of Norwich, who, receiving
me with honour, was pleased to congratulate himself
upon my arrival."1
To make a long story short, the bishop questioned
De Morlai about the Toledo teaching, and especially
about astronomy, in which he was greatly interested.
The result of De Morlai's information is given in the
tract, to which the foregoing forms the preface.
Travellers proverbially tell strange tales, and this
Englishman's declaration as to the general ignorance
of Aristotle then prevailing in the Western world may
seem somewhat exaggerated. In reality, however, it is
not far from the truth. No works, of course, had such a
paramount and lasting influence upon the scholastics
generally as those of Aristotle. The philosophy of the
Middle Ages may be described as Aristotelian philo-
sophy in Christian clothes ; and yet, until the thirteenth
century, it is in regard to logic only that the influence of
Aristotle can be traced in contemporary thought, or that
his authority was ever invoked. The early Christian
Fathers, as Roger Bacon so clearly points out, were for
many reasons attracted rather to the works of Plato
than to those of Aristotle, and, since the time when St.
Gregory of Nazianzum had attributed the apostasy of
Julian to his studying the works of the philosophers,
1 Ar. MS. 377, ff. 88-104.
148 ENGLISH SCHOLARSHIP IN
there had been a disposition among Christians generally
to avoid the influence of pagan writers. Whatever be
the cause, the result is certain: Aristotle's philosophy
was practically unknown to Western nations until the
Crusaders returned from the East with a knowledge of
the use that had been made of his works by the Arabian
writers. A few facts will illustrate the previous ignor-
ance of a philosophy, which subsequently obtained, and
for generations maintained, a supremacy over the minds
of Christian scholars. In the great work of Peter the
Lombard, the Book of the Sentences — a work that became
the text-book of scholastic theology and philosophy —
the name of Aristotle does not appear at all. John of
Salisbury, it is true, says that he was acquainted with
Aristotle, but it is clear he knew him only in his Logic,
as a master of the art of reasoning, and that, we have no
reason to doubt, merely in a translation of Boethius or
Victorinus, or in the abridgment which bore the name
of St. Augustine.
Within a few years of 1 204 — the date of the taking
of Constantinople — the change was already manifest.
William the Breton tells us that up to 1209 no version
of the Metaphysics was known in the Western schools,
but that in this year a Latin translation was made from
a Greek manuscript brought from one of the libraries of
Constantinople. Paris, then the acknowledged capital
of the intellectual world, was directly in touch with the
East, for one of the first acts of Baldwin of Flanders, on
being chosen to rule over the Latin Empire of the East,
was to establish a Greek, or, as it was called, a Con-
stantinopolitan college in connection with the Paris Uni-
versity. Even then, however, the works of the great
Greek philosopher, whose influence over the minds of
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 149
the greatest lights of the schools — Albert the Great, St.
Thomas and the rest — seems to have been supreme, were
known only in translations, many of which had been
taken from Arabic versions, and all of which — if we are
to believe that rather severe critic, Roger Bacon — were
ill made. Moreover, many of the recognised teachers
were still suspicious of the growing influence of a pagan
philosopher, and an outcry was raised against allowing
theology to rest, even for form and manner of proof, on
his authority. The highest powers were invoked, and
the University of Paris prohibited the teaching of Aris-
totle's physics and metaphysics in the schools. This,
however, was caused not so much by any fear of the
works themselves as by a dread of the influence of the
Arabian philosophers, Averroes and Avicenna, who had
made so much of these works in their writings. These
Arabians were suspected of pantheistic tendencies, and
for many years every means was taken to stop the
circulation of their commentaries upon Aristotle, with
what success may be best seen in the works of St.
Thomas.
"In these days," writes Bacon in 1267, "whatever
Averroes says has won favour with the learned. For a
long time he was neglected, and his authority repudiated
and condemned by the most celebrated teachers in their
lectures, but little by little his wisdom appeared suffi-
ciently worthy of attention, though in some matters he
may have spoken incorrectly. We know also," he adds,
" that in our own days for a long period of time Aristotle's
natural philosophy and metaphysics, as expounded by
Avicenna and Averroes, were forbidden, and through
crass ignorance their works were excommunicated, as
well as those using them."
150 ENGLISH SCHOLARSHIP IN
Whilst touching on the rise of Aristotle's influence in
the Schools of the West, one point must not escape
notice — the extent to which the knowledge of his works
in the early thirteenth century was due to Latin trans-
lations of Arabic versions. These versions were mainly
brought to the schools of Europe by students who had
frequented the great centre of Arabian learning at
Toledo. It has been noticed how Daniel de Morlai, at
the end of the previous century, had returned thence to
England with a knowledge of Aristotle, and it was from
the same Arab source that many of the early Latin
translations reached the Universities of Europe. Fre-
quently they appear to have been rather transliterations
than translations, made by people alike ignorant of the
matter and the language. Speaking of those early transla-
tions, Renan says that such editions " only furnish a
Latin translation of a Hebrew translation of a com-
mentary made upon an Arabic translation of a Syriac
version of the Greek text." Under these circumstances
it is hardly a matter for wonder that Aristotle should
have been so often misinterpreted, or that Roger Bacon
should, by condemning the translations in use, have ex-
pressed, it may be somewhat harshly, his disgust at the
ignorance of Greek displayed by professors, who would
not learn the language to discover their master's real
meaning.
Among the influence which in the thirteenth century
brought about a renaissance of letters must be placed
first the authority ol the Popes. Innocent III, for
example, who in his youth had studied in Paris, exerted
his supreme power in favour of that school of learning
which was just then awakening to the possibilities within
its reach. He urged the clergyto turn themselves seriously
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 151
to studious occupations, and in the council of the Lateran
in 1 21 5 passed a universal law that a school of grammar
should be a necessary adjunct of every cathedral church.
So, too, Popes like Honorius III (1224) and Clement IV
(1267) are found commending the work of those engaged
in learned pursuits and endeavouring to obtain some
temporal recognition of their services.
Without doubt, however, what probably did more than
anything else to assist the Western world to understand
that the night was past and the day was at hand, and to
wake it up to the opportunities offered it by the reopen-
ing of communication with the East in the fall of Con-
stantinople, was the rise of the mendicant Orders in the
early part of the century. Most people on reflection will
be inclined to agree with the late Mr. Symonds in his
opinion that of all the names in this century, which pro-
duced so many illustrious men, those of St. Francis and
St. Dominic stand out above all others. With the latter,
this utilisation of the power of letters and culture in the
service of the Church was no mere accident; but with
St. Francis, Providence seemed to have overruled his
wish that none of his sons should aspire to the learning
of the schools. According to his original design the
qualification best suited to the needs of the Order, as he
conceived it, was to be found in a capacity to attend the
leper hospitals and to wait upon the poor and sick
generally. " But in thus qualifying themselves for work-
ing among the large populations of the towns," writes
Mr. Brewer, " the friars were forced upon other studies
secondary only in importance to their main concern."
In this way they came to give themselves generally to
physical studies and pursuits, and to medicine and natural
philosophy specially. Their knowledge quickly became
152 ENGLISH SCHOLARSHIP IN
more than theoretical, for they tested their theories by
observation and actual experiment. Shakespeare, in his
portrait of Friar Lawrence, has made us familiar with
this characteristic of Franciscan learning. At first — at
least with these friars — the study of languages was
necessitated by a missionary activity which sought for a
wider scope than could be found in the Western world,
and brought them into immediate contact with forms of
thought and languages to which they were strangers.
To do good at all, they were obliged to master the
tongues of the peoples of whom they would be Apostles.
This was the impulse — the service of God and His
Church — and in their enthusiasm in this sacred cause
they swept the world on with them and helped to con-
vince the learned of the need of mastering the languages
and learning of the East. Up to this period the Chris-
tian and the follower of the prophet had met only to
exchange blows on the field of battle. The idea that
good of any kind could possibly come from an attempt
to master the languages of the enemies of the Cross, or
from an endeavour to understand their modes of thought,
does not appear to have suggested itself to the minds ot
the Crusaders. They were warriors for the truth — men
who would compel adhesion to the Faith at the point of
the sword — they asked for nothing more, and expected
nothing less. It was left to the friars to conceive other
ideals of Christian missionary enterprise, and in their
endeavours to realise them, they were destined to assist
materially in reawakening the Western mind. The
chronicle of Friar Eccleston, the letters of Adam Marsh,
and, above all, the works of Roger Bacon manifest the
constant activity of the friars in the early days of their
existence. Before the middle of the century we find
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 153
them in Russia, and rigorously keeping their Lenten
observances in the regions of Crim Tartary. As mis-
sioners, they noted whatever might be useful to the
future preachers of the Gospel in the countries through
which they passed, and, as travellers, they carefully re-
corded their observations upon the natural features ot
hitherto unexplored regions, and set down peculiarities
of animal life, of vegetation, and the rest. The travels
of the Franciscan, William de Rubruquis, in Inner Asia
for example — travels so much appreciated by Roger
Bacon — " still," writes Mr. Brewer, " hold their place in
that species of literature which has done more than any
other for the promotion of science."
As somewhat allied to this subject, the following
passage from Roger Bacon may be here noted:
" There is more trouble and labour in the work of
wisdom," he writes to the Pope in 1267, "than one un-
used to such work might think. Nothing can be properly
completed without instruments of astronomy, geometry,
perspective, and many other sciences. Wherefore with-
out such instruments nothing of any high order can be
known, and they must be obtained, since few of them
are made among Latin nations. Copies also of books on
all the various sciences are needed, the works of learned
men, both ancient and modern, and these, neither I nor
any of my acquaintances have, and they must be searched
for in the libraries of the wise through many different
countries. Further, as authors contradict one another
in a great many things, and have written much from
report, it is needful to examine into the truth by actual
experience. . . . Hence I have frequently sent beyond the
sea and into foreign countries and to celebrated fairs and
markets in order to have ocular testimony about things
154 ENGLISH SCHOLARSHIP IN
of nature, and prove the truth of something by sight,
touch, smell, and sometimes by hearing, and thus by the
certainty of experiment [get to know] what I could not
get from books."
Before the close of the century, a Franciscan friar of
the third Order, Raymund Lully — the doctor illuminatus,
as he was called — had eclipsed even De Rubruquis in
the magnitude of his travels. These had extended,
indeed, over three-quarters of the globe, and yet his
journeying and missionary labours were by no means
the full measure of his gigantic activity and industry.
He, too, was interested deeply in the study of Greek
and various other languages, and his letters on this sub-
ject to the Pope and to the authorities of the Paris
University are worthy of a passing notice. His desire
was to see the establishment of a college where men
might be taught the tongues and even the idioms of the
infidels:
" I can vouch from experience," he says, " that there
are many of the Arabian philosophers who strive to
pervert Christians to the errors of Mahometanism; "
and, in his opinion, the establishment of such a place in
Paris, where Greek, Arabic, and the languages of the
Tartar races could be taught, would do more than any-
thing else to assist those who were willing to carry the
Gospel to the Eastern peoples. It would enable them
at least to know the tongues of those they had to deal
with.
So far, the reader has been asked to take a general
survey of the revival of letters in the early thirteenth
century. Attention may now be restricted to England
somewhat more closely, and the names of some of those
Englishmen at this time illustrious by their conspicuous
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 155
learning recalled to the memory. Where the material is
so abundant it is difficult to select, and all that it is
here possible to do is to make choice of some few who
may be taken as types of the men whose energy and
ability materially assisted in this general awakening of
minds.
In the first years of the thirteenth century a student
named Michael Scot, born probably in the Lowlands of
Scotland, and educated in his early years at Oxford and
Paris, was working at Toledo. After having visited
Bologna and Palermo in his search after learning, he had
come to Spain, attracted thither by the high reputation
of the Arabian philosophers. Here he learnt Arabic
sufficiently well to be able to translate the works ot
Aristotle. Roger Bacon rather disparages his learning,
but there is little doubt that he really did much to spread
the knowledge of the philosophy which subsequently
bore so great a part in the mediaeval revival. In his work
of translating he was assisted by a Jew named Andre,
and Bacon not only charges him with having allowed
himself to be deceived by this assistant, but with being
really ignorant of the sciences he was introducing to the
Western world. Leaving Toledo sometime after 12 17,
Michael Scot became attached to the Court of Frederick II,
a great patron of learning, with whose name many of
the translations are associated. In 1 224 Pope Honorius 1 1 1
wrote to Cardinal Langton to beg that the English Arch-
bishop would assist Michael Scot, " who, even among
men of learning, was singularly pre-eminent," to some
worthy ecclesiastical benefice in reward for his services
in " giving us for the use of the learned of these clays
many translations of Aristotle and other works from the
Hebrew and Arabic." A few months later the same Pope
156 ENGLISH SCHOLARSHIP IN
wrote again more fully as to the claims and merits of
this illustrious student, who was well versed both in
Hebrew and Arabic, besides Latin. " From childhood,"
he says, " he was ardent in his pursuit of literature, and
without consideration for anything else he has wooed it
with constant study, raising up on the foundation of the
arts a splendid structure of learning."
Later on, in the same year, Honorius 111 appointed
Scot to the See of Cashel, and on his refusal of the
honour gave him leave to hold a benefice in Italy. In
1230, according to Bacon, Michael Scot came to Oxford,
bringing his works upon Aristotle to introduce them to
the teachers there. Probably this was the mission sent
by Frederick II to all the schools of Europe to interest
them in these translations which had been made under
his patronage.
The reputation of this great student long survived
him, and, as was common in the times in which he lived,
his very learning caused him to be looked upon with
suspicion by those who were unable to appreciate such
ardour in the cause of letters. Boccaccio uses his name
as that of a well-known " great master in necromancy "
to introduce one of his tales. Dante speaks of " his
magical deceits," and his memory still lives in many
legends of the border country: any work of great labour
or difficulty or antiquity being usually ascribed to the
agency of " auld Michael," Sir William Wallace, or the
Devil. Readers of The Lay of the Last Minstrel will
remember that the second canto tells of the visit of
" bold Deloraine " to Melrose " to win the treasure of the
tomb," the "Mighty Book" of Michael Scot, which,
according to legend, had been buried with him.
Probably no English name deserves to be better
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 157
known in relation to the revival of letters in the thir-
teenth century than that of Bishop Grosseteste. He was,
it is true, neither the first nor the greatest of English
scholars at the time, but his influence and example can
be traced in the work of those who followed him. He
was the pupil, together with Thomas Wallensis and
Adam Marsh, of St. Edmund of Canterbury in the
schools of Paris. Probably, also, he had listened there
to the lessons of Stephen Langton, who, according to
Pope Honorius III, "shone even among those most
celebrated throughout the world for eminent literary
knowledge and profound theoretical learning." Grosse-
teste was already a brilliant scholar when, becoming
greatly interested in the new institute of Franciscan
friars then recently come to Oxford, he undertook to
direct their studies. He not only kept his promise, but
persuaded other teachers of eminence to come and lecture
in the friars' school. Amongst others were Adam Marsh
and Thomas Wallensis, both Grosseteste's fellow-pupils
in Paris, and the former of whom, after a brilliant career
as a professor in that University, had joined the Fran-
ciscans in their early days.
Grosseteste and Adam Marsh undoubtedly laid the
foundation in the Friary at Oxford of a school of Euro-
pean reputation. Out of it came a series of brilliant
scholars and teachers, the like of which is unknown in
the history of letters. No three schoolmen have shown
such profound and original learning as Bacon, Scotus,
Occham, and no other nation can show such results.
Roger Bacon, the stern critic of others, has nothing but
praise for his old masters, Grosseteste and Adam Marsh.
" These," he says, " were perfect in all wisdom." ' Of all
1 Opera inedita, p. 70.
158 ENGLISH SCHOLARSHIP IN
the learned men of his day, " one only, that is the
Bishop of Lincoln, knew all science as Boethius knew all
languages." !
" A translator," he says in another place, " should
know the science and the two languages from which and
into which he wishes to translate. But no one knew
languages except Boethius, the famous translator, no
one science except Robert, Bishop of Lincoln, both by
reason of the length of his life, his experience, study, and
diligence, and because he knew mathematics and per-
spective he could master anything; at the same time, he
only knew languages well enough to understand the
fathers, philosophers, and wise men of the ancients. But
he did not know them sufficiently well to translate
properly till towards the end of his life, when he sent for
Greeks and caused them to bring books of Greek grammar
to England from Greece and elsewhere." 2
This reference to those who assisted Bishop Grosseteste
in his linguistic studies recalls the name of John de
Basing, or Basingstoke. This eminent scholar had passed
some time in Athens perfecting himself in the Greek
language where, as he told Matthew Paris himself, he
was taught by a young girl not twenty years of age
named Constantia, the daughter of the Archbishop of
Athens. She had mastered every difficulty of the trivium
and quadrivium, and John de Basingstoke used to call
her " another St. Catherine." " She," says Matthew Paris
in the Chronica Majora, "was his instructress in every-
thing he knew, as he often asserted though he had long
studied and read in Paris." 3
On his return to England, John de Basingstoke brought
1 Opera inedita, p. 33. - Ibid., p. 91.
:| Chronica Majora, v, p. 286.
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 159
with him many Greek manuscripts, and among others
the original Greek text of the pseudo Denys the Areo-
pagite. He had told Bishop Grosseteste, who became
acquainted with him at St. Alban's.that at Athens there
existed much learning of which the Latins were wholly
ignorant. Amongst other things, says Matthew Paris, he
pointed out that there was a work called : " The Testa-
ment of the twelve Patriarchs, the sons of Jacob, which
was of the substance of the Bible ; but which, through
the hatred of the Jews had been long concealed, since in
them the prophecies about Christ were most clear.' But
the Greeks, the most diligent seekers after manuscripts,
coming to the knowledge of the document, translated it
from Hebrew to Greek and have preserved it to our
own times.2
At this period in the thirteenth century there was
much talk as to the possibility of bringing about the
conversion of the Jews. In 1231, the king built in
London, somewhere about the site now occupied by the
Public Record Office, what was called the Domus Con-
versorum for the support of those who should embrace
the Christian Faith. The great controversy as to whether
the Old Law was to be considered abrogated or merely
enforced, expanded and explained by the promulgation
of the New Testament, induced Grosseteste to write his
De cessatione legalium. On being told by John de Basing-
stoke of the existence of the P atriarcharum Testamenta,
the Bishop sent special messengers to Athens to obtain
a copy of what then appeared to be a most important
work. "This," says the antiquary, Samuel Pegge, "was
a noble effort, equally noble if not superior, considering
the difference of the times, to the spirit of the Scaligers,
1 Chronica Afajora, v, p. 285. - Ibid., iv. 233.
t6o ENGLISH SCHOLARSHIP IN
the Lauds, the Ushers, and other learned men of later
ages." '
On the return of his messengers to England Grosse-
teste, says Matthew Paris, " translated the tract fully and
completely word for word into Latin with the assistance
of Master Nicholas ' the Greek ' clerk of the Abbot of
St. Alban's," 2 and here I may note that the original
manuscript brought back to Grosseteste and used by
him in his work of translating is probably that now in
the University Library, Cambridge (Ff. i, 24). Of
course, it is now known that the Testamenta had not the
importance attached to it by Bishop Grosseteste and
others in the thirteenth century ; but all the same, few
on reflection would be disposed to echo the words of the
late Dr. Luard, where he says: "It is lamentable to
think that the Greek books which chiefly occupied
Grosseteste's attention were the wretched forgeries ol
the Testamenta duodecim Patriarcharum and the Pseudo
Dionysius Areopagita."
This learned editor of Grosseteste's letters thinks that
the bishop and others of his time " completely received
this as genuine Scripture; " but the very contrary would
seem to appear from what Roger Bacon says about the
work. "Though not in the canon of Scripture," he
writes, " wise and holy men, both Greek and Latin, have
made use of these books from the earliest ages of the
Church." 4
To Bishop Grosseteste, moreover, we in the first place
owe our knowledge of a very important early Christian
document — certainly not a " wretched forgery." In 1644,
1 Life of Grosseteste, p. 1 5. 2 Chron. Ma-!., iv. 233.
3 Grosseteste 's Letters, pref. xxvi,
4 Ot>. Maf, p. 58.
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 161
Archbishop Usher published a Latin version of what
Bishop Lightfoot calls the middle form of the letters of
St. Ignatius, which he considers the most important of
the three recensions. The Archbishop had observed that
the quotations from St. Ignatius' writings found in the
works of Bishop Grosseteste, John Tyssington (c. 1 38 1)
and William Wodeford (c. 1396) although different from
the text of the Epistles (the longer form) then received,
yet agreed exactly with quotations to be found in the
works of Eusebius and Theodoret. He concluded there-
fore that there must have existed in England from the
time of Bishop Grosseteste, a version corresponding to
the older text of St. Ignatius. His examination of the
English libraries was rewarded by the discovery of two
manuscripts of this version the translation of which he
suspected was due to Bishop Grosseteste himself, especi-
ally as some notes upon the margin of one of the MSS.
proved that the translator was an Englishman. Subse-
quent writers pointed out, as confirming Usher's opinion,
that Tyssington and Wodeford, who had used the
same version, both belonged to the Franciscan convent in
Oxford to which Grosseteste had bequeathed his books.
Before the publication of Bishop Lightfoot's second edi-
tion of his monumental work upon the Epistles of St.
Ignatius, Usher's theory of the authorship of the version
was confirmed in an unexpected way. A friend pointed
out to him that among the MSS. in the library of Tours
was one professing to contain the translated Epistles and
assigning the work to Bishop Grosseteste. Upon exami-
nation this was found to be the case, and we have now
the authority of a fourteenth-century MS. for holding
that the Bishop did translate these letters, " de Graeco
in Latinum." It must be borne in mind that when Usher
M
162 ENGLISH SCHOLARSHIP IN
found this Latin version of the Epistles, the Greek ver-
sion subsequently discovered in the Medicean library at
Florence was unknown, and thus the earliest knowledge
of the most correct version of the Ignatian Epistles was
due to Bishop Grosseteste's work of translation in the
thirteenth century.
In regard to John de Basingstoke, who so greatly
assisted Bishop Grosseteste as we have said, Matthew
Paris notes that he first introduced to the English the
meaning and use of the figure numerals of the Greeks,
where one figure represents each number " which is not
the case with the Latins." In his Chronica Majora, Paris
sets down a table of the Greek method of notation,
which he obtained evidently from John de Basingstoke
himself.1
The same Greek scholar was the author, or perhaps
translator, of a work on Greek grammar which he called
the Greek Donatus, of a book called Templum Domini,
which Paris says is " very useful," and of another on the
order of the Gospels — a sort of harmony probably —
which he named Athenae.
Amongst those who assisted Bishop Grosseteste in his
Greek studies was one, already named, Nicholas, "natione
et conversatione," a Greek. He had come over to Eng-
land, at least so Pegge considers, at the invitation of
John de Hertford, Abbot of St. Alban's. This much is
certain, that he found a home at that abbey and was
made clerk to the Abbot. It was here that Bishop
Grosseteste apparently found him and obtained his
assistance in the work of translating the Testamenta
Duodecim Patriarcharum. He was still living late in the
century and had been rewarded by Grosseteste with a
1 Chron. Maj., v, 234.
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 163
prebend at Lincoln. And here it may be worth noting
that St. Alban's, then in the height of its greatest glory,
with Matthew Paris working as our national archivist
in its scriptorium and training others in historical
methods, was apparently the focus from which Greek
learning and a love of letters spread to other parts of
England. It had been long known for its encourage-
ment of literary efforts, and at the beginning of the
century we have the distinct testimony of that illustrious
Englishman, Alexander Neckham, as to the good work
done in this way by the great Benedictine monastery.
He ought to have known, for he was born beneath its
shadow, received his early training and passed what he
calls " happy years and days of peaceful joy " within its
walls. Not only were the two great scholars just named,
John de Basingstoke and Nicholas the Greek, connected
with the abbey, but one of the most celebrated early
English Dominicans, John of St. Giles, was born at, and
received his early education at St. Alban's. He subse-
quently studied in Paris and at Montpellier, becoming a
doctor of eminence before he entered religion. In 1223,
at Paris, during a sermon, he received a call to renounce
the world and declared his intention of joining the
Dominicans. He became the first teacher in their schools
at Oxford.
It is impossible, here, to speak fully of the great light
of this century, so far as England at least is concerned,
Roger Bacon. The authors of the volume of the Histoire
Litteraire de la France, dealing with this period, declare
that " his works neither in his own age nor even in our
present time have received the recognition they deserve.
No writer, in that dark age, could have thrown such a
vivid light upon physical sciences and upon any point
r64 ENGLISH SCHOLARSHIP IN
in the whole range of human knowledge if he had been
allowed to propagate his discoveries."1
Perhaps the highest praise that can be accorded to
him is that it is to his works that we must have recourse
to obtain information about the trend of human thought
during this period. In them we see him as a deep
student of natural science far in advance of his age: as
an accomplished and enthusiastic linguist, as an exact
mathematician, as a biblical scholar and as a scientific,
if perhaps somewhat a too severe, critic. His principles
of textual criticism are sound, and recently M. Samuel
Berger, the French biblical scholar, has declared that in
his opinion we could not do better at the present day.
Even by the side of Albert the Great, St. Bonaventure,
and St. Thomas, Bacon is worthy to hold his place, and
the more his works are known and studied the greater
will be the position accorded to him.
And here I would recall a passage from John of Salis-
bury already recorded. Of course every age has its own
particular tendencies, and men can only act effectually
by taking full account of them and by working in the
prevalent spirit of the day. Now, without any doubt at
all, the spirit of the thirteenth century was essentially
scientific. That wonderful creation of the human mind,
certainly one of the most marvellous creations of any
age — the Summa of St. Thomas, is what it is precisely
because it is scientific in its system and construction.
But this great characteristic of the thirteenth century
was purchased at a price. Looking back to the previous
age, and comparing the twelfth and thirteenth centuries,
we can hardly fail to see that the price paid was the
sacrifice of literature in its highest and truest sense; a
1 Tom. 16, p. 25.
THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 165
great price indeed, for after all it must be remembered
that literature is the supreme and fullest expression of
all the highest powers of man. We have only to look,
for example, at the writings of John of Salisbury and
Peter of Blois, and set them by the side of those — say of
Albert the Great, or Alexander of Hales — to see that
the former are really classical in thought and expression
as compared with the later.
Grosseteste and Bacon were essentially men of their
own age, and they show themselves possessed to the full
of the true scientific spirit. But they, more than others,
are also in reality the heirs of the twelfth century, for in
them, more fully than in others, we find what John of
Salisbury desired, that " they supported themselves on
the great base of literature and endeavoured to walk in
the tracks of the ancients." I fully believe that the more
this question is examined the more it will be found
to be a matter of regret that the lines initiated by
Grosseteste and Bacon were not those which ultimately
prevailed.
IV
TWO DINNERS AT WELLS IN THE
FIFTEENTH CENTURY
OUR antiquaries have not as yet devoted much atten-
tion to the meals of our mediaeval forefathers.
Descriptions of pageants, religious ceremonies, battles
and tournaments are plentiful enough; but as to how
the people fed and what they were fed upon, as to how
the viands were cooked and how they were served up,
our masters in the history of social manners and customs
have so far told us very little. There is, however, no
lack of material out of which to construct the picture of
the mediaeval state banquet or the humble mid-day
meal. Here and there in the transactions of some
Archaeological Society, or in some antiquarian note-book,
we have, it is true, indications of the matter, but these
are, alas! now again too deeply buried in the mass of
more ephemeral literature, and hidden away on the
shelves of our larger libraries, to have much chance of
being disinterred by any ordinary reader. Of late, it is
true, more special attention has been devoted to the
question of cookery and cooks' recipes in the Middle
Ages, and several collections of such recipes have been
printed by some of our learned societies, but as yet not
much use has been made of them in order to reconstruct
the scenes enacted in the great dining-halls, or in the
1 66
TWO DINNERS AT WELLS 167
more common meal chambers, of by-gone generations
of Englishmen. The one fixed idea, apparently, which
most people have of our mediaeval parents at feeding
time is that they were altogether a very coarse and
boorish set, who devoured their ill-made dishes after the
manner of their ill-bred dogs, which, among the rushes
that covered the floor, fought over the bits and bones
their masters cast to them from their platters. Few, who
have not examined the question for themselves, probably
dream of the height to which during the fourteenth and
fifteenth centuries gastronomic art had reached, or of the
courtesy and good manners expected from all at the
festive board in spite of that absence of some of the
things which to us in this century seem to make decent
eating possible. The poet Chaucer's Squire, for instance,
is the very beau ideal of the chivalrous English gentle-
man. He tells us that " Curteys he was, lowly and
servysable, and karf beforn his fadur at the table." Of
course, some of the things our ancestors were constrained
to do at food time do not seem very nice to us to-day.
Fancy, for example, how we should get through a dinner
now without one, or for that matter perhaps, a multitude
of forks ! To our forefathers the fact that " fingers were
made before forks " was patent, and I have no doubt
that they thought very little of helping themselves from
their dishes with thumb and forefinger. Here, as in so
many similar cases, we are so apt to import our modern
ideas into by-gone ages when such things as silver
forks, and for that matter forks of any kind, were not.
The fact is that our ancestors provided as well as they
could against the unpleasantness, and I fear we must
say rtlthiness, occasioned by the habit of eating with
their fingers, by constantly washing their hands both
1 68 TWO DINNERS AT WELLS IN
before and after their meals. In every large establish-
ment a special officer, called the Ewerer — the bearer of
the jug and basin — was told off to provide the necessary
water and towel. Spoons too were in more frequent use
than now, and served their purpose well in days when,
as the recipes show, the food in great measure partook
of the nature of hashes, stews, soups, and other made
dishes easily eaten with the spoon. The antiquary Pegge
believed that large pieces of meat and great joints were
not in common use till well into the reign of Queen
Elizabeth. It was the server's place to see, as the ancient
Book of Kerving tells us, " that every person had a
napkin and a spoon," and most minute directions exist
as to the manner in which the carver was to dismember
birds, to free the fish from its bones, and to slice the meat
into " gobbetts " which could be managed by the guests
with a spoon. Sometimes, however, the diners appar-
ently helped themselves from the dishes before them
without waiting for the carver to do his office. This
must have been far from pleasant, at least as Barklay
describes the custom :
If the dishe be pleasaunt, eyther flesh or fyshe,
Ten handes at once swarme in the dishe ;
And if it be fleshe ten knives shall thou see,
Mangling the flesh in the platter, flee.
To put there thy handes is perill without fayle
Without a gauntlet, or els a glove of mayle." '
Then the platters — to mention but one other accessory
of the table in which we have decidedly the advantage
over our mediaeval ancestors — must have been, at least
to our modern notions, an objectionable feature of a
' Alexander Barklay (quoted by Warner, Antiquitates Culm-
ariae, p. 95).
THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY 169
mediaeval banquet. Till late in the sixteenth century
wooden trenchers, and, for that matter, bowls were the
rule in the most highly respectable houses of the land.
But while the accessories of the table were somewhat
defective according to our way of thinking, there was a
well-recognised method of preparing and serving the
meal, especially when circumstances required a grander
display than usual. I remember once, in turning over
the leaves of an old account-book in the Record Office,
that I came upon a statement of the preparations made
by a distinguished ecclesiastic for a dinner he gave to
King Edward III. The royal arrival was apparently
unexpected; but sufficient notice had been given to
set the whole place in a ferment of excitement. People
were despatched here, there and everywhere to procure
provisions and other necessaries for the feast, to which
the king was coming with all his household (cum tota
familia sua). Here are some of the items required as I
find them set down on a page of an old note-book that
I was using at the time. I fear they will appear rather
miscellaneous, and some may seem not to have very
much to do with a dinner. First there were sacks of fine
flour for pasties and table bread (payndemayn); then
came ells of linen to make towels, tablecloths, " saven-
apes," and cloths to wipe out the cups and cleanse the
platters. Next came a long list of spices, such as cloves,
mace, ginger and galingale, which in those days were so
constantly used to flavour sauces and disguise the taste
of meat otherwise unpalatable. With these were rice-
flour and dates, prunes, pines, and " Reys corens," that
is, Corinth raisins, now better known to us as "currants."
Of meats there was the usual profusion found in the
Middle Ages. Besides the beef, mutton, veal and pork,
170 TWO DINNERS AT WELLS IN
for this particular banquet we find provided for the royal
guest "77 capons, 156 pullets, 188 pigeons, 2 pheasants,
5 herons, 6 egretts, and 6 brews." ' All these were pur-
chased in London, apparently alive, because "the carriage
and keep of them " to the place where they were to be
cooked is charged at 43 shillings and 6 pence. The same
messenger brought along with him 5 lb. of salt and 6
gallons of cream.
As the day approached — it was August 8th, 1373 —
the hurry and scurry became more apparent. Men were
at work unremittingly setting up trestles for tables, side-
boards and forms in the dining-hall, and dressers, chop-
ping-boards and baking-boards for the cooks, for whom
also a canvas tent was erected, apparently to serve as a
larder. Women, too, were kept hard at work making up
linen and canvas into aprons for cooks, strainers for use
in the kitchen, and cloths for tables and dressers. Bakers
were busy for three days before the king's arrival making
the bread for the company and preparing "horse loaves"
for their animals. Lastly we find set down the wages
for the cook who came to supervise the preparations
for the banquet. Perchance this same professor of the
culinary art may have been the king's own cook, for
some of the old royal accounts show that our kings, then
as now, provided themselves when on a journey, like the
Canterbury pilgrims described by Chaucer at this very
time:
A coke they hadden with hem for the hones
To boil the chickenes and the marie bones
And poudre marchant, tart and galingale.
Wei coud he knowe a draught of London ale,
1 This was probably the whimbrel, or half-curlew, to be eaten
" with watere of the rivere" — sugar and salt. — Prologue.
THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY 171
He couthe roste, and sethe, and boyl, and frye,
Makyn Mortrews, and bakyn well a pye.
There were, however, other professional cooks, not dis-
tinctly attached to this or that great family or house,
who went about to furnish forth a banquet wherever
their services might be required. Like Gunter, Bertram
and Roberts, and the rest, of our days, there were appar-
ently mediaeval refreshment contractors, or at any rate
high-class artists in cookery ready to undertake the
preparation of the feast with which some great national
event was celebrated, or to cater for the supply of refresh-
ments to clerics brought together by some ecclesiastical
function. The cookery books of more than one of these
artists are still in existence, and not only do they reveal
the secrets of their triumphs in the gastronomic art, but
in several cases they record the times and places of their
most successful efforts, and even the menu of the ban-
quets themselves.
One such note-book, written by a fifteenth-century
Gunter, may be seen among the MSS. treasures in the
British Museum,1 and has within the last few years been
printed by the Early English Text Society. It is a
beautifully written collection of recipes for making tasty
dishes arranged under various headings, so that any one
of them might be easily found by the index prefixed to
the collection. In addition to this collection, moreover,
there is a most interesting set of menus, each distinguished
by a brief account of the occasion upon which the ban-
quet described was served up. They are menus of dinners
given on various occasions in the first half of the fifteenth
century. Two of them describe the dishes of two great
' Harl. MS., 279.
172 TWO DINNERS AT WELLS IN
dinners given in the Bishop's palace at Wells. The chef
must have been, I fancy, a distinguished man in his own
profession in those days, for his list of triumphs includes:
the feast at the coronation of King Henry IV at West-
minster in 1399; royal dinners at Winchester and else-
where ; a great fish banquet given by Lord de la Grey,
and another by Bishop Flemming, of Lincoln, in 1420 ;
the installation feast of Bishop John Chaundler of Sarum,
in 14.17, etc., etc.
Besides these, as I have said, our unknown master in
the art of cookery superintended two great dinners at
Wells. The first occasion was in December, 1424. In
the month of September there died Bishop Nicholas Bub-
with, whose chantry chapel was built by himself on the
north side, in the nave arcade of Wells Cathedral, oppo-
site the perhaps better known chapel of Treasurer Sugar.
A great concourse of people, distinguished ecclesiastics,
laymen and the religious of the diocese would have come
to Wells for the funeral. The deceased prelate had been
a man of considerable importance to the country in
general and to the city of Wells in particular. He had
been Bishop of London and Treasurer of England. He
had, as Bishop of Bath and Wells, attended the Council
of Constance, and had been one of the thirty who had,
by command of the Council, taken part in the election
of Martin V. Traces of the care and love he had be-
stowed upon his Church can still be seen. The eastern
alley of the cloister with the lavatory and upper library
owed much to his zeal. The interesting chapel in the
vicar's close is of Bubwith's time, and the upper portion
of the north-west tower is probably his work. He was
buried, a considerable time after his death, on the 4th of
December, 1424, where his body now lies, in his little
THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY 173
chantry in the nave of his Cathedral. After the funeral,
the ecclesiastics repaired to the great hall of the palace
where the dinner described in the two menus here printed
was served. Some of the dishes will, no doubt, appear
to be very strange to most of us. I have tried to set
down over against the name by which the dish was called
in the fifteenth century, where the meaning is not obvi-
ous, some indication at least of what it might now be
called. In some instances I have failed to identify the
description even with the help of the recipe book. If the
courses may appear to us unnecessarily lengthy, we must
bear in mind that the various dishes were probably not
served up one after another ; but, like the very sensible
modern Russian plan, various meats and birds were
dished up together that everyone might make his choice.
It will be noticed that a special dinner was provided
for the religious who at this time had to abstain from
meat, since the funeral had been appointed for Monday
in the first week of Advent. This provision for the meals
of those who were bound by special ecclesiastical laws is
a very noticeable feature in mediaeval accounts. It was
reciprocal in its operation, and monastic account-books
show how meat repasts were provided for workmen and
strangers on days when in the community refectory only
fish was allowed ; just as this menu shows how a meagre
dinner was got ready for all who had to abstain on this Ad-
vent day. Nothing is said about vegetables in the courses
of these dinners, and it is at least very remarkable, not only
in these mediaeval menus, but in the great variety of
recipes for making dishes which exist, that there is hardly
any mention of " green meat " beyond the herbs used for
flavouring. The truth is that in the matter of vegetables
mediaeval banquets were perforce very deficient, for the
174 TWO DINNERS AT WELLS IN
best of all reasons, that there were very few known to
the art of even the fifteenth-century gardener. With this
brief introduction I now give the menu for the funeral
dinner. It is so plentifully supplied with meat that the
lines
Thrift, thrift, Horatio: the funeral baked meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage feast,
would hardly apply here.
Convivium Dni. Nicholai Bubbewyth nuper Episcopi
Bathon. et Well, ad funeralia; Videlicet quarto die
Decembris Anno Domini 1424.
In Carnibus.
Le I Cours.
Nomblyd DE Roo (Loin of Roe deer).
Blamangere • (Meat beaten up with rice into
a cream).
Braun cum Mustard .... (Brawn).
Chynes DE Porke (Chine of pork).
Capona Roste de haut grece (Stuffed capon).
Swan Roste.
HEROUN ROSTYD (Heron roasted).
Aloes DE Roo (Ribs of venison).
PUDDYING DE SWAN NECKE.
Un Lechemete (Sliced or minced meat).
Un bake viz Crustade ... (A pie, probably sweet).
Le II Cours
Ro STYUYD (Stewed venison).
Mammenye (Minced).
Connyng ROSTYD (Roast rabbit).
Curlew.
Fesaunt Rostyd.
Wodecokke Rost.
Pertryche Roste.
Plover Roste.
Snypys Roste (Snipe roasted).
Crete byrdys Rosted.
THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY 175
Larkys Rostyd.
Venysoun de Ro Rostyd.
Irchouns (Fork prepared, with spikes
made of almonds, to look
like a hedgehog).
UN leche (Sliced meat or bread with
spices).
PAYN Puffe (A pastry puff with yolk of eggs,
etc., inside).
COLDE BAKEMETE (Cold fruit pie).
Convivium de Piscibus pro viris Religiosis ad funeral, predict.
Le I COURS
Elys in Sorry (Eels, with a sauce made of fried
onions, wine, and spices).
Blamanger (Fish beaten up with rice into a
cream).
Bakoun heryng (Baked herring).
MULWYL, TAYLYS (Cod).
LENGE, TAYLYS (Ling).
Jollys OF SAMOUN (Salmon jowls).
Merlyng sothe (Whiting boiled).
Pyke.
Grete Plays.
Leche barry (A sliced cake with bars of gold
and silver as ornament).
CRUSTADE RYAL (Apie with currants, dates, eggs,
etc.).
Le II Cours
Mammenye (A mince of fish).
Crem OF ALMAUNDYS .... (Almond cream).
Codeling (Codling).
Haddok (Haddock).
Freysse Hake (Fresh hake).
Solys Y Sothe (Boiled sole).
GURNYD BROYLID WITH A SY-
ryppe (Gurnard).
Brem DE mere (Sea bream).
Roche (Roach).
Perche (Perch).
176 TWO DINNERS AT WELLS IN
Menuse fryed (Fried minnows).
IRCHOUNS (Pork prepared with spikes
made of almonds, to look
like a hedgehog).
Elys y sostyd (Eels boiled).
Leche lumbard (A sweet made of dates, etc.)
Grete crabbys (Crabs).
A COLD bakemete (Cold fruit pie).
It may be of interest to give the recipe for one or two
of these dishes as they are found in the old cookery book
used in the preparation of this banquet. They may seem
somewhat strange nowadays, but it must be remem-
bered that our forefathers liked, and the materials for
their meals probably needed, good strong-smelling and
tasting sauces. One of these dinners much affected by
those who lived in the Middle Ages is described by
Alexander Barklay in the lines :
What fishe is of savour swete and delicious
Rosted or sodden in swete herbes or wine ;
Or fried in oyle, most saporous and fine —
The pasties of a hart.
The crane, the fesaunt, the peacocke and the curlew,
The partriche, plover, bittorn and heronsewe :
Seasoned so well in licour redolent,
That the hall is full of pleasant smell and sent.1
We may take a sample of the dishes at haphazard. For
example, this is how Blamangere was prepared by our
professional cook. I take the liberty of somewhat
modernising the spelling and expressions.
" Take rice, pick it clean, and wash it well in warm
water. Then soak it in water and afterwards in almond
milk. Add to it brawn made of capons and then
put the whole into more almond milk. Beat it small
with a (rolling) pin and when it sticks to it, stir it well
Quoted by Warner, ut sup., lv.
i
THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY 177
up. Take sugar and add to it, and then thicken it. Then
take white almonds, fry them and put them on it when
you serve it up. If you please you may serve it up with
Cawdelle Ferry described above."
This Cawdelle Ferry, is a sauce made in this way:
" Take raw yolks of eggs separated from the whites.
Then take good wine, warm it in a pot over a good fire
and casting in the yolks, stir well, but do not let it boil
till it thickens. Add sugar, saffron, salt, mace, gilli-
flowers, and galingale ground small and flour of cinna-
mon. When serving it up put blank powder — a powder
made of ginger, cinnamon and nutmeg — on it."
Irchons — or as we call them, urchins or hedgehogs —
hardly perhaps sound a very inviting course. This is how
the dish is made:
" Take pig's stomach and scald it well. Take minced
pork and mix with spices, powdered ginger, salt and
sugar and put into the stomach, but not too full. Then
sew it up with strong thread and put on a spit like we
do pigs. Then take white almonds and cut them long,
small and sharp and fry them in grease and sugar. Take
a small skewer and prick the irchons and put almonds
into the holes. Put it then to the fire and when roasted,
cover it with flour and milk of almonds, some green,
some black with blood. Let it not brown too much and
then serve it up."
The above will be sufficient to give the reader some
notion of the elaborate care taken in the fifteenth cen-
tury in the preparation of the various dishes. Of course,
great banquets were in those days as rare probably as in
our own, but even in the case of the simpler meals the
like care appears to have been taken over the cooking
of the dishes. Chaucer's Frankeleyn was probably not
N
178 TWO DINNERS AT WELLS IN
a very much overdrawn picture of a well-to-do man in
the fourteenth century so far as the table pleasures were
concerned:
His bread, his ale, was alway afternoon
A bettre envyned man was nowher noon
Withoute bake mete was never his hous
Of fleissch and fissch, and that so plentyuous
It snewed in his house of mete and drynk
Of alle deyntees that men cowde thynke
Aftur the sondry sesouns of the yeer,
He chaunged hem at mete and at soper,
Ful many a fat patrich had he in mewe
And many a brem and many a luce in stewe.
Woo was his cook, but if his sauce were
Poynant and scharp, and redyal his gere.
His table dormant in his halle alway
Stood redy covered all the large day.
If there was plenty there was also thrift. It is impos-
sible to read the accounts of monastic houses and noble
families without being struck with the exceeding care
with which those whose duty it was, regulated household
expenses and zealously guarded against waste. It was
doubtless in this way that in the great halls of the higher
nobility so vast a number of retainers and guests could
have been entertained almost continually, and in the
monastic refectories such boundless hospitality was able
to be dispensed. As an example of the way in which a
royal home was regulated in the fifteenth century, at
the risk of wearying the reader I will give a long extract
from the rules for the household of the mother of King
Edward IV.
" A compendious recytation compiled of the order,
rules and constructione of the house of the righte excel-
lent princesse Cicile, late mother unto the right noble
prince King Edward IV.
THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY 179
" We semeth yt is requisyte to understand the order
of her own person concerning God and the Worlde.
" She useth to arrise at seven of the clocke and hath
readye her chapleyne to saye with her mattins of the
daye and mattins of our ladye; and when she is fully
readye, she hath a lowe masse in her chamber, and after
masse she taketh somethinge to re-create nature; and
soe goeth to the chappell hearinge the divine service,
and two lowe masses; from thence to dynner; duringe
the time whereof she hath a lecture of holy matter,
either Hilton of contemplative and active life, Bona-
venture de infantia, Salvatores legenda aurea, St. Maude,
St. Katherine of Sonys, or the Revelacyons of St.
Bridgett.
"After dynner she giveth audyence to all such as hath
any matter to shewe unto her by the space of one hower,
and then sleepeth one quarter of an hower, and after she
hathe slepte she contynueth in prayer unto the first
peale of evensong; then she drinketh wyne or ale at her
pleasure. Forthwith her chapleyne is readye to saye
with her both evensongs; and after the last peale, she
goeth to the chappell and heareth evensonge by note;
from thence to supper, and in the tyme of supper, she
recyteth the lecture that was had at dynner to those that
be in her presence.
" After supper she disposeth herself to be famyliare
with her gentlewomen ; and one hower before her going
to bed, she taketh a cuppe of wyne, and after that goeth
to her priyvie closette and taketh her leave of God for
alle nighte, making end of her prayers for that daye;
and by eighte of the clocke is in bedde. I trust to our
lordes mercy, that this noble princesse thus divideth the
howers to his highe pleasure."
i8o TWO DINNERS AT WELLS IN
" The rules of the house.
" Upon eatyng dayes at dynner by eleven of the clocke,
a first dynner in the tyme of highe masse, for carvers,
cupbearers, sewars, and offycers.
" Upon fastinge dayes, by twelve of the clocke and a
later dynner for carvers and for wayters.
" A supper upon eatynge dayes for carvers and offycers
at four of the clocke; my ladye and the householde at
fyve of the clocke, at supper . . .
" Uppon Sundaye, Tuesdaye, and Thursdaye the
householde at dynner is served with beefe and mutton
and one roste; at supper, leyched beefe and mutton
roste.
" Uppon Mondaye and Wensdaye at dynner, one
boyled beefe and mutton ; at supper, ut supra.
" Uppon fastinge dayes salt fyshe and two dishes of
fresh fishe; if there come a principal feaste, it is served
like unto the feaste honorably.
"If Mondaye or Wensdaye be hollidaye then is the
household served with one roste, as in other days.
" Upon Satterdaye at dynner, salt fyshe, one fresh
fyshe and butter; at supper salt fishe and egges. '
" Wyne daylie for the heade offycers when they be
presente, to the ladyes and gentlewomen, to the dean of
the chappell, to the almoner, to the gentlemen ushers, to
the cofferer, to the clerke of the kytchin, and to the
marshall. . . . Breakfastes be there none, saving onely
the head offycers when they be present; to the ladyes
and gentlewomen ; to the deane of the chappell, to the
almoner, to the gentlemen ushers, &c, &c. . . .
" To all sicke men is given a lybertye to have all such
thinges as may be to theire ease; if he be a gentleman
and will be at his own dyett, he hath for his boarde
THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY r8i
weekely \6d. and gd. for his servante and nothin out of
the house.
" If any man fall impotente, he hath styll the same
wages that he had when he might doe best service during
my ladyes life."
But to pursue the subject with which we are more
immediately concerned: The second Wells banquet, the
menu of which has come down to us, was given also in
the great hall of the Bishop's Palace on the installation
of Bishop Bubwith's successor. John Stafford was con-
secrated at the Dominican Church in London, and on
the 16th of September, 1425, he took possession of his
See. On that occasion the dinner was furnished appar-
ently by the same professional cook that arranged the
repast at the funeral of Bishop Stafford's predecessor.
It will be seen that there was now no need of making
preparation of a fish dinner for those who were bound to
abstain ; but two dinners were, however, prepared, one
for the more exalted guests and the other for those who
had seats in " the lower part of the hall and elsewhere."
The two menus are as follows:
Convivium Johannis Stafforde Episcopi Wellensis in
inductum Episcopatus sui. Videlicet 16 die Septembris
Anno Domini Millessimo ccccm0 vicessimo quinto.
Le I Cours
Furmenty with Venysoun . (Venison with wheat " husked
and boiled ").
Mammenye (Mince).
Brawne.
Rede roste (Eggs treated with violet flow-
ers).
Capoun de haut grece . . . (Stuffed capon).
Swan.
Heyroun (Heron).
i82 TWO DINNERS AT WELLS IN
Crane.
A leche (Sliced meat or bread spiced).
CRUSTADE Ryal (A pie with currants, dates, eggs,
&c).
Frutoure, Samata (Fritter or pancake).
A Sotelte . A doctor of law.
Le II Cours
Blamche Mortrewys .... (Forced meat of fowl or pork).
Vyand Ryal (Almond rice mould).
Pecoke.
Conyng (Young rabbit).
Fesaunte.
Tele.
Chykonys doryd (Chicken glazed with almond
milk).
Pyjons.
Venysonn Rostyd.
Gullys (Gulls).
Curlew.
Cokyntryche (Capon and pig roasted to-
gether).
A leche (Sliced meat or bread spiced).
Pystelade Chaud (Hot pasty?)
Pystelade fryid (Pasty cooked in a frying pan).
Frytoure damaske .... (Fritter with Damascus dates).
A SOTELTE . Eagle.
Le III Cours
Gely.
Creivie Moundy.
Pety Curlewe (Small Curlew).
EGRET (Young Heron).
Pertryche.
Venyson rost.
P LOVER E.
OXYN KYN.
Quaylys.
Snypys (Snipe).
Herte de Alouse.
Small byrdys.
THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY 183
DowCET RYAL (A kind of cheesecake).
PETELADE Fryid (Pasty cooked in a frying pan).
HYRCHOUNS (Fish prepared as above).
Eggs Ryal (Eggs royal).
Pomys (A kind of forced-meat ball
with spices).
Brawn fry id.
A Sotelte . Sent Andrevve.
Frute.
Waffrys.
Vyn dovvce.
Pro inferiori parte Aule et in aliis locis.
Le I Cours
FURMENTY with VENYSOUN . (Venison with wheat "husked
and boiled").
Mammenye (Mince).
Brawn.
Rede ROSTE (Eggs treated with violet flow-
ers).
Capoun.
Leche (Sliced meat or bread with
spices).
A bakemete (A fruit pie).
Le II Cours
Mortrews (Forced meat of fowl or pork\
Pygge.
Conynge.
Chykons.
Venysoun rosted.
Leche (Sliced meat or bread spiced).
Frutoure.
Bakemete Chaud (Fruit pie hot).
Bakemete Fryid.
To these last menus it may be useful to add a few
words upon the use of what was called in the upper
banquet the sotelte, with which each course was con-
cluded. These were designs, more or less ambitious, in
1 84 TWO DINNERS AT WELLS IN
sugar and paste, which generally pointed some allusion
to the circumstances of the feast. They were often pre-
ceded by what were called warners or dishes meant to
prepare the guests for the great tour de force of the
chef in the sotelte proper. Probably the great designs
which ornamented our dinner tables some years ago may
be considered as the more civilised descendants of the
mediaeval subtlety. Sometimes these artistic erections
on the tables were meant to be eaten, like modern orna-
mented wedding cakes; and frequently they were of
considerable size. Hunting scenes were depicted with
trees, hounds and stags, and in one case the whole
interior of an abbey church with its various altars. The
two subtleties at the second and third course of the
installation banquet of the same John Stafford, the menu
of whose feast at Wells has just been given, when in
1443 he was translated to the Archiepiscopal throne of
Canterbury, may be here given as samples. " A sotelte :
The Trinity sitting in a sun of gold, with a crucyfix in
his hand, Saint Thomas on the one side, Saint Austin
on the other, my lord (John Stafford) kneeling in pontifi-
calibus before him, his crosier (bearer) coped, with the
arms of Rochester: Behind him on the one side, a black
monk, Prior of Christchurch, on the other side, the
Abbot of Saint Austin's."
The subtlety at the third course was the following:
"A Godhead in a sun of gold glorified above; in the
sun the Holy Ghost as a dove: St. Thomas kneeling
before him with the point of a sword in his head and a
mitre thereupon crowning St. Thomas : on the right
hand Mary holding a mitre, on the left John the Baptist
and in the four corners four angels with incense."
The allusions in these two great dishes do not require
THE FIFTEENTTT CENTURY 185
any explanation. At the installation at Wells the subtle-
ties were as we see of a simpler character, namely: " A
doctor of law " for the first course, with apparent refer-
ence to the state of the bishop before consecration :
(2) "An eagle," the emblem of St. John; and (3) "St.
Andrew," the patron saint of the Cathedral Church at
Wells. This last formed the first subtlety exhibited at
the installation at Canterbury as having reference to the
previous position occupied by the new Archbishop. At
this latter feast it is more fully described as " Saint
Andrew, sitting on his high altar in state, with beams of
gold, {i.e., the rays of a nimbus). Before him kneeling
the Bishop in pontificalibus\ his crosier (bearer) kneel-
ing behind him coped."
V
SOME TROUBLES OF A CATHOLIC
FAMILY IN PENAL TIMES
WE who live in these days of religious liberty can
with difficulty realise all the " troubles of our
Catholic forefathers" in penal times. The late Father
Morris and others have done much to illustrate the suf-
ferings of those who were called upon — and were indeed
happy in being called upon — to bear witness to their
Faith by laying down their lives for religion in the six-
teenth and seventeenth centuries. The names and the
glorious " passions " of these strong soldiers of Christ are,
thanks to Bishop Challoner and subsequent writers, well
known and held in benediction by us who are heirs to
the Faith for which they suffered and died. But beyond
those specially " signed " with the seal of martyrdom
there is " a great multitude which no man could number "
of men and women, of every rank and degree, who clung
to the Catholic Faith and worship of their ancestors in
spite of every form of refined persecution which the in-
genuity of those " men of the New Learning " could
invent to force them to adopt the State religion. The
names of these noble confessors for conscience' sake are
for the most part unknown, but the statute book would
of itself be sufficient evidence of the rigour with which
they were treated by those in power for their " recu-
186
A CATHOLIC FAMILY IN PENAL TIMES 187
sancy " or refusal to accept the " Elizabethan settlement
of religion " and against their consciences be present at
the Protestant service which the authority of the law
substituted for the ancient sacrifice of the Mass in every
parish church in England. So terrible, indeed, and so
shocking to our modern ideas are these penal laws, de-
signed to bring our Catholic forefathers into conformity
with the State religion, that many even of ourselves have
come to regard them as having been, in fact, from the
first a dead letter on the page of the statute book, never
intended to have been enforced by those in authority, and
most generally disregarded and ignored by those against
whom they were directed. Non-Catholic writers have
gone to the point of trying to wipe from this page of
English history even the memory of this religious coer-
cion, or of trying to represent "recusancy" as an obstinate
determination on the part of some bigoted Catholics not
to recognise the title of Elizabeth to the Crown, and to
refuse the oath of fidelity to her. The truth is that a
" recusant Catholic " was one who simply refused to be
present at the new service of the Protestant religion in
the parish church, and in the vast majority of cases there
was no question about any oath of fealty, or even of any
declaration of belief in the supremacy of the Queen over
the Church ; although of course a Catholic would have
equally refused to acknowledge her ecclesiastical title.
There can be no manner of mistake in this matter, as
there is a definition of " recusancy " upon almost every
Crown record at this period. Thus in the Royal Receipt
Books, during the last twenty years of Elizabeth's reign,
there are entered the fines levied on recusants to the
amount of £120,305 igs.j}yd.\ or something like a million
and a quarter of our money; a very considerable por-
iS8 SOME TROUBLES OF A CATHOLIC
tion of the revenue of the country. In each case the
receipt is entered as: Fines de vecusantibns accedere ad
ecclesiam ubi communis oratio utitur. That is, " fines from
those refusing to come to church where the Common
Prayer is made use of."
Now the principle of" forgetting " what it is unpleasant
to remember may be carried too far, till we are in danger
of ignoring the plain facts of history which we owe it to
our Catholic ancestors to keep with gratitude before our
memory. The truth is certain ; they were treated with a
rigour it is difficult now to credit ; they were imprisoned,
taxed and fined because they would not, as it was called,
conform and attend the Protestant service; their lands
were seized and granted out for long terms to royal
officials and favourites to pay two-thirds of their annual
value into the royal purse; their goods and chattels were
taken possession of and sold to pay at least a portion of
the " debt owing to the Crown " by reason of recusancy.
As we turn over the records of these days we are forced
to wonder not that so few were found faithful to their
consciences, but that any Catholic family could possibly
have survived the long and relentless persecution by
which it was sought to force all into the State estab-
lished church, and to take the form of religion from the
Crown.
Nor are we to suppose that it was only the rich land-
lords, and those who possessed special power of any
kind, that were treated in this way as enemies to the
State. The strong arm of the law was stretched out to
crush also the poor but staunch adherent of the religion
of his Catholic ancestors. The Recusant Rolls, and other
documents innumerable, prove that there were none too
lowly for the royal officials to persecute. The poorest in
FAMILY IN PENAL TIMES 189
the smallest village were not exempt from fines imposed
for recusancy, and from distress levied upon their goods
upon conviction. Not that for the most part the Catholics
could pay the sums demanded of them. Still the fact
that they were indebted to the Crown to the amount of
^20a month or £260 a year, and in consequence were
constantly subject to the demand, " Pay what thou
owest," was quite sufficient to render their lot a pitiable
one. We have only to look at the long lists of recusants
as they constantly appear on the parchments of the
official rolls to find the names of people of all sorts and
conditions. To pass over the gentry and those able even
partially to pay; we find millers, tailors, shoemakers,
husbandmen, yeomen, labourers, blacksmiths, even mil-
liners. Praise be to the women folk! They seem to have
clung with heroic courage to the ancient Faith in spite
of the special pressure put upon the husbands of many
to drive their wives to attend the Protestant service.
It is impossible to examine the Recusant records
without feeling a desire that somehow or other the
names of these true confessors for the Catholic Faith
were better known — or I might say known at all. Gladly
would I see in every church in England a memorial
tablet, such as has been set up in the church of St. Law-
rence, Petersfield. It records the names of those who in
that part of Hampshire had the happiness of being " con-
victed recusants," and who by their staunch and loyal
adherence to the Catholic Faith, in spite of every form
of persecution, have contributed to hand down to us of
these days that most precious of gifts.
My present purpose, however, is not to write about
the recusant laws generally, nor to illustrate the way in
which the)' were executed in any special district. It is
iqo SOME TROUBLES OF A CATHOLIC
simply to relate the special troubles of one Catholic
family in Wiltshire. The incidents may perhaps be all
the more interesting to some, inasmuch as the chief
people concerned in this sad history are the father and
mother of the first abbess of the Benedictine convent at
Cambrai, now established at Stanbrook. The story itself
illustrates the great difficulty which Catholics in those
days experienced in obtaining permission to lay their
dead in any churchyard; and we may preface it by
giving an old account of what happened in Winchester
on the death of a Catholic gentleman in prison, where
he had long lain because he was unable to pay the
amount of the fines claimed by the Crown for his recus-
ancy, his little property having previously been seized
by the royal officials and sold. This account, which I
owe to the kindness of Mr. F. J. Baigent, is as follows:
" In the year of our Lord 1589, Nicholas Tychborne,
a gentleman of rank, died in the gaol of Winchester.
This gentleman, after having suffered multiplied and
grievous injuries, together with the spoliation of all his
goods, was at length captured by the fraud of his ene-
mies, brought to Winchester and cast into prison. Where,
having been detained therein for the profession of the
Catholic religion during the space of nine years, he fell
ill, seized with a grievous malady, and he sent for a
priest who might administer the rites of the Church to
him, now approaching the end of his existence.
" The priest did the duties of his office, after which
the only wish of the sick man was, that, as he must pay
the debt of nature, he might be permitted to survive
until the festival of St. James, for he ardently desired to
depart this life on the feast of that saint, under whose
guardianship and protection he had lived seventy years.
FAMILY IN PENAL TIMES 191
Nor was the wish in vain ; for beyond all hope and ex-
pectation of both the physicians and his friends, he was
preserved for the space of fifteen days — that is, until the
feast of St. James, in which, towards night, in the pres-
ence of many of his Catholic fellow prisoners, he began
more ardently to implore the saint's assistance. He then
commended himself to God, to the Virgin Mother of
God, and to all the other princes of heaven, addressing
them in the most moving language; and having crossed
his hands, with his eyes devoutly lifted up to heaven, he
laid in that posture about two hours, sometimes breaking
forth into the praises of his Maker, but for the most part
quietly meditating within himself, till at length, without
any agony or symptom of pain, he most sweetly expired.
" After his death no small contention arose between
Cooper, the superintendent of Winchester {i.e., the Pro-
testant bishop) and the Catholics and his other friends,
for he would not grant them a place of interment in any
church or cemetery; declaring that his conscience would
not permit him to allow a Papist to be buried in any
of his churches or cemeteries. To this the Catholics
answered that the churches had been built, not by them
[the Protestants] but by men of their [the Catholic] re-
ligion, and by these the cemeteries were consecrated,
and that therefore it was very unjust to deny them the
right of sepulture in those places which Catholics had
formerly erected at their own expense for this very pur-
pose. But this argument, though indeed most powerful,
availed nothing with him. They therefore, knowing his
power and authority, which was very great in the city,
and struck, at the same time, with the novelty of the
affair, continued for a long time in painful suspense, un-
certain how to proceed.
192 SOME TROUBLES OF A CATHOLIC
" At length an old man came forth and said the fol-
lowing: 'The affair is, indeed, one of the very greatest
difficulty, but if you follow my advice, we shall do what
seems easier than was first intended to be done, and of
which the Protestants have not the slightest suspicion.
You know that upon a hill, about a mile distant from
this city, is a place on which there was formerly a chapel
dedicated to St. James, the vestiges of which still re-
main, and from which the hill itself has borrowed its
name. I remember as a boy seeing several persons there
buried; even there let us take this good man, especially
as in the very agony of his death we beheld him par-
ticularly recommending himself to that saint as to his
holy patron, to whom also, during his whole life, he was
singularly devout, and actually died on his festival day,
all of which seems to demand this for him as of right,
and necessity itself compels.'
" The advice of the old man was adopted and put into
execution, and the bones of the good gentleman now
rest on the summit of that high and most beautiful hill,
in the very place where formerly existed a celebrated
chapel dedicated to St. James, but which, not many
years ago, the heretics, as is their custom, pulled down
and completely demolished."
I need only add that from that date, 1589, to the
present, the Catholics have always retained possession
of the ancient cemetery of St. James. It is the Catholic
cemetery of Winchester, and in its holy ground repose
the bodies of many confessors for the Faith in that
neighbourhood.
But to return to my main point. The Gawen family —
for it is about them I write — were among the most re-
spectable and respected gentry of Wiltshire. Aubrey
FAMILY IN PENAL TIMES 193
says they were settled on the land at Norrington for
450 years, and Chaucer puts the name of " Gavvain "
into his tales of Arthur. Hoare, in his account of the
Hundred of Chalk, gives two views of the family house
at Norrington, and he describes it — his description being
borne out by the pictures — as a handsome Gothic edifice,
probably built by John Gawen, who bought the estate
in the first year of the reign of Richard II. " It would,"
he writes, "be unpardonable in the impartial topographer
to pass over such an one [as the Gawen family] without
doing justice to their memory," and " hand down to pos-
terity [whilst he recounts the high and dignified offices
they held in the county] the unmerited sufferings they
endured for their attachment to the religion they pro-
fessed, and for their loyalty to the House of Stuart,
previous to and in the time of the Commonwealth."
So far as the Wiltshire estates are concerned they had
practically passed out of the possession of the Gawens
before the advent of the Stuarts ; having been seized by
Queen Elizabeth in payment of fines due for the obstin-
ate refusal of Thomas Gawen to attend his parish church
for the Protestant service. By an inquisition held in the
last year of that queen he was fined £1,380 for this legal
offence, and was further fined £120 for not having sub-
sequently made his submission according as the Act of
Parliament required. It is also stated in the same in-
quisition that he was a popish recusant, and that con-
sequently two-thirds of his annual estate, valued at
£389 ys. 4a7., was seized to the Queen's use.
This Thomas Gawen had married into a staunch
Catholic family, his wife being Katherine, daughter to
Sir Edward Waldegrave, K.G., who in the first years of
Elizabeth's reign had refused to be bound by the royal
o
194 SOME TROUBLES OF A CATHOLIC
settlement of religion, and who, together with his wife
and seven others, was sent to the Tower for having Mass
said in his house. There in 1 561 he died, a confessor for
the Faith. By his marriage Thomas Gawen had two
children: a son Thomas, who succeeded to the remnant
of the family estates which had not been seized to pay
the recusancy fines, and a daughter Frances, who be-
came the first abbess of the Benedictine convent at
Cambrai.
By the last year of the sixteenth century the ruin of
the Gawen family was almost complete. In a letter
written from England on July 22nd, 1599, the writer
takes their case as typical of many others in England
at the time, and as the description given in it is not
only of interest in itself, but directly introduces us to
the family at a time about which I shall have something
to say, I quote some portions of it.
" Felton " (the great official discoverer and persecutor
of Catholics) " brings Papists to great misery," writes
our informant. " When the statute was made that those
who did not pay ,£20 a month should forfeit all their
goods and two-thirds of their lands, the guard and others
about the court procured the Lord Treasurer's warrant
that any who indicted and convicted such a Papist
should have a commission to find his land and have a
lease of two-thirds of it at the rent found for her majesty.
This obtained, they would offer composition to the re-
cusant, and when this was agreed upon and paid, would
find it under the rate and pass the lease to some friend;
for they might not by covenant grant it to the owner
nor any recusant. Yet were all these leases during
pleasure, so that first the recusant was compelled to a
grievous fine, and yet had yearly to pay the Queen a
FAMILY IN PENAL TIMES 195
rent for his own living, and besides had to make away
with all his goods.
" Then when this course was taken all England over,
Felton informed the Queen that it would be very profit-
able to grant a commission for further inquiry into recu-
sants' livings. He got many base fellows in different
shires, who seized on all recusants' goods, surveyed their
lands, examined their tenants on oath, found their livings
[to be] at higher rates, and so frustrating the first leases
took new ones, dispossessed the recusants and lived
there, or placed there some bankrupts like themselves,
so that the recusant had to maintain himself and family
only on a third part of his estate. . . .
" If a gentleman, reconciled [to the Church of Rome]
during his parents' life, when he was unable to pay the
statute, should afterwards come and offer arrears and
the ,£20 a month in future — which is what the law
exacts — that is not allowed ; but the Queen may take
the fairest, and for £260 she has some ^400 a year, and
yet must Felton and his companions choose their fairest
house and domains, and assign them what they list for
their third. Thus have Caruell, Thimbleby, Gawen, and
many others been dealt with."
The writer goes on to describe the ruin which every-
where falls on estates, and concludes: "Some, seeing
that Felton must get all, have broken their windows,
turned up their gardens, destroyed their dovecots and
warrens, and would have burnt their corn ; but the law
prohibits this." '
I may now introduce the reader to the two documents
which afford special information about the troubles of
the Gawen family for religion and conscience. They are
1 State Papers, Dom. Eliz., vol. 271.
1 96 SOME TROUBLES OF A CATHOLIC
contained in some Star Chamber proceedings of the
reign of James the First which have lately been pri-
vately printed.1 To understand the first it is necessary
to remember that when Queen Elizabeth died, the
Catholics, rightly or wrongly, expected that under her
successor — the son of Mary Queen of Scots — they
would be treated with greater mildness, if not with
toleration.
On Friday, 9th May, 1606, in the Star Chamber, before
seven counsellors and judges, the suit of one Richard
Kennelle against Gawen and others came on for hear-
ing. The plaintiff was the tenant in possession of Mr.
Thomas Gawen's house at Norrington, and the defend-
ants were Mr. Gawen, his wife Katherine, his son Thomas,
Sir Edmund Ludlowe, a Justice of the Peace, and one
Nicholas Tooman, the " tithing man." At this date, when
the case came before the court, Mr. Thomas Gawen was
already dead; but as the others were held to be the
principal " rioters," it was allowed to proceed.
The counsel for the plaintiff Kennelle, in opening the
pleadings, stated that Thomas Gawen being a recusant,
Queen Elizabeth had granted his lands to one Fortescue,
who had leased them for a term of years to Kennelle.
This latter, " having servants in the kitchen and the
barn, and corn growing on the land," was in possession,
when on 7th August, in the first year of James I, Kath-
erine Gawen, " with two servants, on the Sabbath day,
in the time of divine service, entered into the house and
barred the doors." The following day she " assembled
more servants and friends with weapons, and kept pos-
session by force, and took the goods and spoilt them
and spent them." She then sent for Tooman the tithing
1 Haywarde, Les Reportes del Cases in Camera Slellala.
FAMILY IN PENAL TIMES 197
man, and Sir Edmund Ludlowe, a Justice of the Peace,
to uphold her in possession of her husband's house.
The tithing man — the representative of our modern
constable — " assembled more people and encouraged the
rioters, and assisted them in the king's name to keep
possession." Upon this he was admitted into the be-
sieged house, and when Sir Edmund Ludlowe came,
" Katherine Gawen said he was welcome and her friend,
and he walked into the garden and so into the house."
It was part of the case of the plaintiff that this Justice
was wholly on the side of the Catholic mistress of the
house, and adverse to the tenant, who by means of the
laws against recusants had dispossessed the family and
taken up his abode in the mansion. There is little doubt
that both his sympathy and that of the people round
about were on the side of the persecuted owners. Sir
Edmund Ludlowe, it was contended, " would see but
three rioters in the house and no weapons, whereas it
was proved that there were fourteen, and all with
weapons."
Sir Edmund, however, made at least a show of par-
tiality, and bound both parties over to keep the peace.
But, said Mr. Counsellor Pine, in pleading the plaintiff's
case, " he apprehended a servant, — thinking him to be
one of Kennelle's men; but on Mrs. Gawen telling him
he was her servant, he allowed him to go." He further
ordered Kennelle to find " sureties," and seizing him " by
the collar struck him, declaring that he would drag him
off to gaol, tied to his horse's tail."
This action did not tend to settle the matter quietly ;
but for " many days together there was shooting of guns
and bows out of the windows at some of the servants " ;
and strangely enough, as it seems to us now, at a sessions
198 SOME TROUBLES OF A CATHOLIC
held a few days afterwards, the plaintiff was condemned
by the Justices of the county to pay £300 as a fine for
the riot. The present application to the Star Chamber
was to set this verdict aside, and to punish the defend-
ants as well as to reinstate Kennelle in possession of
Norrington.
In reply the counsel for the Gawens showed that Mrs.
Gawen " conceived by the king's general pardon " on his
coming to the throne that they should have their pro-
perty free again, and get rid of the objectionable tenant
who had been quartered in their house by the royal
officials. The property was mostly " her jointure," and
great waste was being done on the lands by the plaintiff.
In the course of the case it was proved that Mrs.
Gawen was a recusant, and " did report, upon the king's
coming," that times would be changed for Catholics
" now that the bloody queen was dead, under whom the
Lord Chief Justice did rule the roste and Sir John
Fortescue and that bloodsucker, Sir W. Rawlie."
Of course, the result was a foregone conclusion. The
plaintiff obtained an injunction against the Gawens, and
an order for the sheriff to put him in possession of Nor-
rington again. The defendants were not unprepared for
this, and seem to have taken the result as philosophically
as possible. Mrs. Gawen said that " a dogge Kennelle
were a fytter place for " the plaintiff than her house, and
Sir Edmund Ludlowe, finding that the actual words of
the judgment were that the sheriff " should establish
those in possession," cheerfully said, " That is all right.
Mrs. Gawen is in possession, is she not?" But the matter
did not end here, and in the result Mrs. Gawen was fined
£500; Sir Edmund Ludlowe £300 and was deprived of
his office; the tithing man ;£ioo and discharged from
FAMILY IN PENAL TIMES 199
his post; five other male defendants £50 a-piece; and
three women ,£10 each. Of course, all were to be im-
prisoned till the money was paid, and as most of them
were servants, the mistress was ordered to pay if they
could not do so.
Then, continues Haywarde, the writer of these notes
on the Star Chamber cases, " The lords much insisted
upon the vile words about Queen Elizabeth, and wished
they could give Mrs. Gawen exemplary punishment.
And the Lord of Northampton took occasion to say
that it being reported that King James had sent pri-
vately to Rome to promise good treatment to Catholics
when he should come to England, he had informed the
king of the report, and received from him assurance
that he would execute justice." Further, that on the
king's way down from Scotland " the Catholics of Ber-
wick proffered a petition for better treatment," but the
king re-established the laws against them, and after a
report being traced " to one Watson, a priest condemned
to death, the said Watson acknowledged that the king
had never given him any such hope."
So ended this case ; but the following day, 30th May,
1606, the Star Chamber was occupied in hearing a case
in which Mrs. Gawen was plaintiff against two Protestant
ministers named Willoughby and Tines, the constable
and tithing man and two coroners of the county of Wilt-
shire. As a preliminary it is noted that Mr. Gawen was
a " stiffe and roughe recusant," and for this reason his
lands had been granted for his life to Fortescue (no
doubt Sir John, about whom Mrs. Gawen had expressed
her opinion so forcibly), and by him leased to Kennelle.
It appears that on 1st August, 1603 (tne first year °f
James I), Mr. Gawen died, either on the Sunday night
200 SOME TROUBLES OF A CATHOLIC
or Monday morning; "and being a fat and corpulent
man, his wife made all haste to bury him." In one
church, however, Mr. Willoughby refused to allow him
to be buried in church or churchyard, because he was
" excommunicate." The family pleaded that there was
a king's pardon, but Mr. Willoughby, repairing to his
ordinary, the Bishop of Salisbury, " was advised that he
could not be buried in consecrated ground." Upon this
going to another parish of which the defendant Tines
was minister they got into the church at night — ten or
twelve in number — and buried the body in the chancel,
without " minister, clerk, or sexton." They locked them-
selves into the church, and others having obtained an
entrance into the other parish church they tolled the
bells all next day in both churches. Finally the con-
stable and posse got in at a side door, and in ejecting
them from the chancel " a woman spat in his face, upon
which he had her to the stocks."
Now Kennelle, having an estate for Mr. Gawen's life,
suspected or pretended to suspect, that he was not dead
at all, and getting into the church at night with his man
dug up the grave. He found a coffin, however, and there-
upon leaving it uncovered suggested that the coroner of
the district should hold a quest. A jury was summoned,
but for fear of the plague, which was much dreaded, one
of the jury got it adjourned for fourteen days, leaving
the body as it was. At the expiration of the fortnight
the coroner ordered the tithing man to dig up the body,
which, however, he absolutely declined to do, and upon
this Kennelle hired some one to do the job.
This man, continues the record, " was enforced by
reason of the waighte of the corps to dragge him at the
lightest ende, whereby his feet being upward, the whole
FAMILY IN PENAL TIMES 201
waighte of his corps swayed to his heade and necke
'which [by] Kennellc himself he was charged to do), and
so draged him into a meadowe farre off, [for] the jury
desyred that the body, having long lyen in the earthe
and of very strong savoure, the churchyard small and
the assembly of people great — almoste a hundred —
might be broughte into a meadowe close adjoining,
where there would be more and better ayre." None of
the jury would even then come near to examine the
body; so Kennelle "caused the shroud to be ripped
up," and gave evidence that there was a suspicious look-
ing circle round about the neck, and suggested that Mr.
Gawen had been strangled and made away with. The
jury, however, found that he had died a natural death,
probably from " an impostume in the stomache."
The quest being finished, the coroner gave an order
to the church officials to bury the corpse again, which
they absolutely refused to do. On this, Kennelle caused
it to be drawn into the church porch, hid the key of the
church door, and there left it to lie several days, " where-
by all the parish were so annoyed that they durst not
come to the church." Finally Kennelle, after some time,
gave directions to have the body buried, but as " moste
parte are buried east and west," he had it laid north and
south, saying " as he was an overthwart neighbour while
he lived, so he shall be buried overthwartely ; and if you
mislike it, I will have him dragged at a horse's tail and
laid upon the downs."
In the result the Star Chamber judges blamed Kennelle
for proceeding " with such malice " against the dead.
"His principal offence whereon the court grounded their
sentence was his inhuman usage in the burial of the
corps overthwarte, and his malicious words of him, for
202 A CATHOLIC FAMILY IN PENAL TIMES
demortuh nil nisi bonum; and our usual manner of
burying is very ancient, as Basil noteth and used by the
apostles in the primitive church"; and for this reason,
too, we pray to the east. Consequently they sentenced
Kennelle to pay a fine of £100 and to be imprisoned.
At the end " The archbishop delivered a secret prac-
tice of the Papists, that of late days they used to wrap
their dead bodies in two sheets, and in one of them strew
earth that they themselves had hallowed, and so bury
them they care not where, for they say they are thus
buried in consecrated earth."
It is impossible here to follow the fortunes of the
Gawens further. I will only say there are many records
of recusancy fines levied upon Mrs. Gawen, and in 1607
all benefit that could be got from her refusal to attend
the Protestant service was granted by King James I to
a certain John Price. History does not relate what profit
Mr. Price made out of this staunch Catholic lady.
Thomas Gawen, the son, went to live at Horsington,
in Somerset, and his son William, born in 1608, sold his
remaining interest in Norrington to the Wyndhams in
1657, the year after his father's death. Thus the ancient
and Catholic family of Gawen lost their possessions in
Wiltshire.
VI
ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH1
BATH, perhaps more than most other cities, has
always been pleased to recognise and do honour
to its worthies. To me, the very streets of the city appear
to be peopled by the ghosts of bygone generations. If
I shut my eyes upon electric tramways and such like
evidences of what is called " modern civilisation," the
beaux and belles of ancient days seem to come trooping
from their hiding places and appear tripping along the
streets as of old; the footways are at once all alive with
the gentry of the cocked hat and full-bottomed wig period,
with their knee breeches and small clothes to match.
Ladies, too, are there, with their hooped and tucked
dresses, their high-heeled shoes, and those wonderful
creations of the wigmaker's art upon their heads ; whilst
sedan chairs of all sorts and kinds are borne quickly
along the roadways, now desecrated by every kind of
modern conveyance.
It was in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries,
of course, that the city rose to the zenith of its renown, and
the crowd of notabilities who then came to seek for rest,
health and pleasure in this queen of watering-places, has
served to make Bath almost a synonym for a city of gaiety,
1 A paper read before the members of the Literary and Scientific
Institution, Bath, December 14, 1906.
203
204 ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH
diversion and life. Indeed the memories of that period of
prosperity and glory almost seem to have obliterated the
thought of persons and of incidents of earlier days. It is
one such person that I would recall to your memory to-
night. When honoured, by the request of your President
to read a paper before this learned Society, my thoughts
almost immediately turned to Abbot Feckenham, of
Westminster, who is one of the personages my imagina-
tion has often conjured up whilst passing along the
streets of this city. Most of those who listen to me
probably know very little of this grave and kindly
ecclesiastic, but the name. But in the sixteenth century
he was a generous and true benefactor to the poor of
this place, and that at a time when he was himself suffer-
ing grievous trials for conscience' sake. At the outset I
should like to disclaim any pretence of originality in my
presentment of the facts of Abbot Feckenham's life. I
have merely taken what I find set down by others, and
chiefly by the Rev. E. Taunton in his history of the
English Black Monks. He has been at great pains to
collect every scrap of information in regard to the last
Abbot of Westminster, and I borrow freely from the
result of his labours.
Feckenham's real name was Howman, his father and
mother being Humphrey and Florence Howman of the
village of Feckenham, in the county of Worcester. They
appear to have been of the yeoman class, and to have
been endowed with a certain amount of worldly wealth;
at any rate they seem to have sent their son John, who
was born somewhere about the first decade of the six-
teenth century, to be trained in the monastery of Eves-
ham, which was near their home. Here the boy, who
had probably received an elementary education from the
ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH 205
parish priest of his native village, would have been taught
in the claustral school of the great abbey. In time he
joined the community as a novice, and in accordance
with the very general custom of those days, became
afterwards known by the name of his birthplace, as John
Feckenham.
From Evesham the young monk proceeded to Oxford
to study at " Monk's College," or Gloucester Hall, now
known as Worcester College. It is not important here
to determine the actual date when he commenced his
studies at Oxford ; probably he went to college about
lS3°> when we are told definitely that he was eighteen
years of age. His Prior at the house at Oxford was a
monk of his own abbey of Evesham, named Robert
Joseph, and an accidental survival of a manuscript letter-
book gives us not only the information that it was this
religious who taught the classics, but shows in some way
at least how a professor lectured to his students in those
bygone days. The MS. in question is a collection of
Latin letters and addresses, made by this Prior Robert
Joseph. It was, as you are all aware, the fashion in
those times for scholars to send Latin epistles to their
friends, and then to collect them into a volume. We
have many printed books of Latin epistles of this kind.
Prior Joseph, though his elegant letters were never
destined to see the light in all the glory of a printed
dress, still made his collection, which somehow or other
got bound up with a Welsh MS., — one of the Peniarth
MSS. — and so was preserved to tell us something more
than we knew before about the work of a professor at
Gloucester Hall, when the monks were students there.
Amongst other interesting items of information afforded
in this MS., we have Prior Robert Joseph's inaugural
2o6 ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH
lecture on a play of Terence; and, by the way, very
practical and good it is. There is also another lecture
of a different character, which was carefully prepared for
delivery to the young Benedictine students at Gloucester
Hall. It seems that one of the monks had been " pulling
his old professor's leg," as we should say, by telling him
that many of them thought that as a teacher he was
getting a little past his prime, and that it might perhaps
be a good thing if he were to give place to a younger
man more in touch with modern scholarship. Prior
Robert was deeply wounded, and his carefully prepared
address upbraids his pupils for their ingratitude, and
practically calls upon those amongst them who con-
sidered that he ought to retire, to come forward boldly
and say so: an invitation which it is hardly likely was
accepted. At any rate, the old professor certainly con-
tinued to occupy his chair for some time longer.
In special regard to the young monk, John Fecken-
ham, this same collection of letters is of some interest,
since it contains a Latin epistle addressed to him on
the occasion of his ordination to the priesthood. " It is
a dignity," the writer says in the course of a long letter,
" which in our days can never be despised or held in
little regard. . . . From this time forth your very carriage
and countenance must be changed ; from this time forth
you are to live after a fashion different to what you did
before.
" Now have to be given up the things of youth and
the ways of a child, for now you take up the sword of
the Spirit, which is the Word of God." This would have
been written probably about the year 1536, and in the
following year Feckenham was certainly at Oxford. " I
find him," writes Anthony a Wood, "there in 1537, in
ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH 207
which year he subscribed, by the name of John Fecken-
ham, to a certain composition then made between Robert
Joseph, prior of the said college (the writer of the Latin
letters), and twenty-nine students thereof on one part (oi
which number Feckenham was one of the senior) and
three of the senior beadles of the university on the other."
In 1538 Feckenham supplicated for his degree as
Bachelor of Divinity and took it on June 1 ith, 1539.
Previously he had, in all probability, been for some time
teaching in the abbey school at Evesham, as he had
himself been taught, and he was there on January 27th,
1540, when the monastery was surrendered to Henry
VIII. In the pension list his name appears as receiving
15 marks {£10) in place of the usual pension (10 marks)
for the younger monks; probably because of his uni-
versity degree. After the dissolution of his religious
home, John Feckenham at first gravitated back to his
old college at Oxford to continue his studies; he was
soon, however, induced to become chaplain to Bishop
Bell of Worcester. This office he held until the resigna-
tion of that prelate in 1543, when he joined Bishop
Edmund Bonner in London, remaining with him until
that prelate was committed as a prisoner to the Tower
of London in 1 549, for his opposition to many religious
changes during the reign of Edward VI. At this time
Feckenham, whilst still in London, received the living
of Solihull in Warwickshire. During the time of his
rectorship his parents — Humphrey and Florence How-
man — left a bequest of 40s. to the poor, and among the
records of the parish is said to be an old vellum book
" containing the charitable alms given by way of love
to the parishioners of Solihull, with the order of distri-
bution thereof, begun by Master John Howman alias
2o8 ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH
Fecknam, priest and doctor of divinity — in the year of
our Lord 1548."
Though moderate and gentle in his disposition, and
ever considerate in his dealings with the convictions of
others, Feckenham was strong in his own religious views
and uncompromising in his attitude to religious change.
He consequently quickly found himself involved in an
atmosphere of controversy, and at this time probably
developed those oratorical powers for which he after-
wards became really famous. It was not long, however,
before he found himself a prisoner in the Tower, out of
which he was, to use his own expression, " borrowed "
frequently, for the purpose of sustaining the " ancient
side " in the semi-public religious controversies which
were then in much favour with all parties. The first of
these disputes was held at the Savoy, in the house of
the Earl of Bedford ; the second was at Sir William
Cecil's at Westminster, and the third in the house of
Sir John Cheke, the great Greek scholar and King
Edward VI's tutor.
Although held all this time as a prisoner, Feckenham
was somehow or other still possessed of his benefice at
Solihull, of which, for some reason or other, he had not
been deprived. He was consequently taken down from
London and opposed to the bishop of his own diocese,
Bishop Hooper, in four several disputations; the first
was arranged at Pershore whilst the bishop was on his
visitation tour, and the last in Worcester Cathedral,
where amongst others who spoke against him was John
Jewel, afterwards Bishop of Salisbury.
With Mary Tudor's advent to the throne Feckenham
of course obtained his liberty. On Tuesday, September
5th, 1553, he left the Tower, and according to Machyn's
ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH 209
Diary \ on Sunday the 24th of the same month " master
doctor Fecknam did preach at Paul's Cross, the Sunday
afore the Queen's coronation." He again became chap-
lain to Bishop Bonner, now also set at liberty, and was
nominated a prebendary of St. Paul's in 1554. Other
preferment came to him very rapidly: Queen Mary
made him one of her chaplains and her confessor, and
before November 25th, 1554, he was appointed Dean of
St. Paul's. Fuller, the historian, says of him at this time:
" He was very gracious with the Queen and effectually
laid out all his interest with her (sometimes even to
offend her, but never to injure her) to procure pardon
of the faults, or mitigation of the punishment of poor
Protestants. The Earls of Bedford and Leicester re-
ceived great kindness from him ; and his old friend, Sir
John Cheke, owed his life to Fecknam's personal interest
with the Queen. He took up the cause of the unfortunate
Lady Jane Dudley, and remonstrated with the Queen
and Gardiner upon the policy of putting her to death.
He visited the poor girl in prison ; and though unsuc-
cessful in removing the prejudices of her early education,
he was able to help her to accept with resignation the
fate that awaited her. Neither did he forsake the hapless
lady until she paid by death the penalty of her father-
in-law's treason and her own share therein. When the
Princess Elizabeth was sent to the Tower in March,
1554, for her supposed part in Wyat's rebellion, Feck-
nam, just then elected dean, interceded so earnestly for
her release that Mary, who was convinced of her sister's
guilt; or at any rate of her insincerity, showed for some
time her displeasure with him. But Elizabeth's life was
spared; and she was released, mainly by his importunity,
after two months' imprisonment."
P
2io ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH
On 19th March, 1556, Giovanni Michiel, the Venetian
ambassador, wrote from London to the Doge about the
restoration of the Benedictines. He says: "Sixteen
monks have also resumed the habit and returned to the
Order spontaneously, although they were able to live
and had lived out of it much at ease and liberty, there
being included among them the Dean of St. Paul's
(Feckenham) who has a wealthy revenue of well nigh
2000 (£); notwithstanding which they have renounced
all their temporal possessions and conveniences and
press for readmission into one of their monasteries."
There were obvious difficulties in the way of any large
scheme of monastic restoration: the property of the old
abbeys had long since been granted away mostly to
laymen, and at some of the greater houses, like West-
minster and Gloucester, chapters of secular priests had
been established in place of the dispossessed monks.
At Westminster, however, arrangements were quickly
made with the view of restoring the Benedictines to
their old home: promotion was given to the dean and
the interests of the other secular canons were secured,
and on 7th September, 1556, the Queen appointed
Feckenham abbot of restored Westminster. The Vene-
tian ambassador says that the monks with their new
abbot were to make their entry at the close of Sep-
tember, but this they did not do: there was evidently
much more preparation necessary than had been calcu-
lated upon. Dean Stanley, in his Historical Memorials
of Westminster Abbey, says " the great refectory was
pulled down " and " the smaller dormitory was cleared
away," and other conventual buildings had either been
destroyed or adapted to other uses. So there was obvi-
ously much to be done before the new community could
ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH 211
take up the old life again, and it was not until 21st Novem-
ber that the monks were able to begin once again the
reeular round of conventual duties in the cloisters and
choir of Westminster.
I cannot resist quoting here the account given by the
contemporary writer Machyn, in his quaint style, of this
restoration. "The same day (21st November) was the
new abbot of Westminster put in, Doctor Fecknam, late
dean of Paul's, and xiv. more monks sworn in. And the
morrow after, the lord abbot with his convent went a
procession after the old fashion, in their monk's weeds,
in cowls of black saye, with his vergers carrying his
silver-rod in their hands; at Evensong time the vergers
went through the cloisters to the abbot and so went
into the church afore the high altar and there my lord
kneeled down and his convent; and after his prayer
was made he was brought into the choir with the vergers
and so into his place, and presently he began Evensong
xxii. day of the same month that was St. Clement's
Even last." " On the 29th day was the abbot stalled
and did wear a mitre. The Lord Cardinal was there
and many bishops and the Lord Treasurer and a great
company. The Lord Chancellor (Archbishop Heath)
sang Mass and the abbot made the sermon."
Feckenham lost no time in setting his house in order
and in gathering round him other monks and novices.
Giovanni Michiel, the ambassador before referred to,
tells us that on St. Thomas' Eve (20th December) the
Oueen " chose to see the Benedictine monks in their
habits at Westminster," and so going for Vespers was
received by the abbot and twenty-eight other monks
all men of mature age, the youngest being upwards
of forty and all endowed with learning and piety
212 ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH
proved by their renunciation of the many conveniences
of life."
The restoration of Benedictine life at Westminster was
not destined by Providence to continue for very long.
Queen Mary died 17th November, 1558, and her funeral
rites were solemnised at Westminster. Feckenham
preached one sermon at the obsequies, and White, Bishop
of Winchester, the other. Both gave umbrage to the
new Queen, and the bishop's led to his confinement in
his own house. As for Feckenham, it is said that
Elizabeth greatly desired to win over to her side one
whom she respected, and who was universally popular.
One story has it that she offered him the Archbishopric
of Canterbury if he would assist in the settlement of the
national religion on the lines she desired. The abbot, how-
ever, remained staunch to his conscientious convictions,
and in Parliament strenuously opposed all the measures
by which the religious settlement was finally effected.
During the time of the debates in the Parliament, Fecken-
ham was quietly awaiting at Westminster the approach-
ing ruin of his house, which to him at least could hardly
be doubtful. He went on in all things as if no storm clouds
were gathering, leading his monastic life with his brethren.
The story goes that he was engaged in planting some
elms in his garden at Westminster when a message was
brought to him that a majority of the House of Commons
had voted the destruction of all religious houses, and the
messenger remarked that as he and his monks would
soon have to go, he was planting his trees in vain. " Not
in vain," replied the abbot. " Those that come after me
may perhaps be scholars and lovers of retirement, and
whilst walking under the shade of these trees they may
sometimes think of the olden ^ligion of England and
ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH 213
of the last abbot of this place," and so he went on
planting.
The end of monastic Westminster came on the 12th
July, 1559. On that date, for refusing the Oath of
Supremacy, Feckenham and his monks were turned out
of their house. What immediately became of them we
do not know, and probably never shall, but judging from
the case of the bishops we may suppose that they were
probably assigned places of abode. It was, however,
soon considered injurious to the new order, that the
bishops of the old order and Abbot Feckenham should
be allowed even the semblance of liberty comprised in
the order for a fixed place of abode, from which they
could not depart without permission. So on May 20th,
1 560, it was agreed in the Queen's Council that Fecken-
ham and some of the bishops should be confined straight-
way in prison, and so by order of Archbishop Parker "at
night about 8 of the clock was sent to the Fleet doctor
Scory, and Master Feckenham to the Tower."
In this confinement the abbot remained until 1563.
In the March of that year Parliament had given authority
to the new bishops to administer the Oath of Supremacy,
with the new penalty of death for those who refused it.
The plague was at that time raging in the city of London,
and the prisoners petitioned " to be removed to some
other convenient place for their better safeguard from
the present infection." This was so far granted that they
were committed to the charge of the bishops. Stowe,
the careful historian, thus relates the fact: "anno 1563
in September the old bishops and divers doctors, (were
sent to the bishop's houses) there to remain prisoners
under their custody (the plague being then in the city
was thought the cause ").
214 ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH
Feckenham was brought, first of all, back to his old
home at Westminster to the care of the new dean,
Goodman. But before the winter, at the suggestion of
Bishop Grindal, he was removed to the house of Bishop
Home, of Winchester. In spite of all he could do and
say and notwithstanding all his arguments, the Bishop
of Winchester was unable to shake the resolution of the
abbot and prevail on him to take the Oath of Supremacy.
Home indeed complains that Feckenham, at the end of
all discussion, used to declare that it was with him a mere
matter of conscience; and, pointing to his heart, would
say: "The matter itself is founded here, and shall never
go out." And so in the end, Home gave up the task of
trying to change his prisoner's opinion ; and by January,
1565, Feckenham was back once more in the Tower.
From that time until 17th of July, 1574, he remained
either there or in the Marshalsea, under more or less
strict restraint.
After fourteen years' confinement he was permitted
to go out on conditions. He was bound not to try and
gain others to his way of thinking; he was to dwell
in a specified place, " was not to depart from thence
at any time, without the licence of the lords of the
Council," and he was not to receive any visitors. As
a prisoner on parole, then, Feckenham went in July,
1 574, to live in Holborn ; whereabout, it is not exactly
known. No sooner had he gained his liberty, even
with restrictions, than the abbot's old passion of doing
good to others reasserted itself, and he at once became
engaged in works of true charity and general useful-
ness. " Benevolence was so marked a feature in his
character that," as Fuller says, " he relieved the poor
wheresoever he came ; so that flies flock not thicker
ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH 215
about spilt honey than the beggars constantly crowded
about him."
We have unfortunately no information about the
source of the money, which he evidently had at his
disposal. But clearly considerable sums must have been
given to him for charitable purposes, as, no doubt, the
donors were assured that they would be well and faith-
fully expended by him. Whilst dwelling in Holborn,
Feckenham consequently was able to build an aqueduct
for the use of the people generally. Every day he is said
to have distributed the milk of twelve cows among the
sick and poor of the district, and took under his special
charge the widows and orphans. He encouraged the
youth of the neighbourhood in many sports, by giving
prizes and by arranging Sunday games, such as all
English lads love.
And now comes the connection of Abbot Feckenham
with this city of Bath. Whilst labouring for the good of
others in London, his constitution, naturally enfeebled
by his long imprisonment, gave way, and he became
seriously ill. On July 18th, 1575, the Council in reply
to his petition, ordered "the Master of the Rolls, or in
his absence the Recorder of London, to take bondes of
Doctor Feckenham for his good behaviour and that at
Michaelmas next he shall return to the place where he
presently is, and in the meantime he may repair to the
Baths." " The baths," of course — at any rate in those
days — meant this city, which had been pre-eminently
the health resort of Englishmen for centuries.
Hither then, some time in the summer of 1575, came
Abbot Feckenham, with leave to remain until the feast
of Michaelmas. He, however, certainly remained longer
than that, as we shall see, as it was the common practice
2i6 ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH
at this time to extend such permissions. Whilst here
the abbot was the guest of a then well-known physician
of the city, Dr. Ruben Sherwood, who, although a
recognised "popish recusant," had probably, like so
many other doctors, been allowed to remain unmolested
because of his skill, and the paucity of such men of
talent in medicine in the sixteenth century. I may per-
haps, here, be allowed a brief digression to point out to
you, from an interesting article in The Downside Review
called " A seventeenth century West Country Jaunt," by
Father N. Birt, that this Dr. Ruben Sherwood died in
1599, and that in the seventeenth century there was
certainly a Sherwood tomb and brass in the Abbey, with
the arms of the family and a Latin inscription ; this has,
however, since disappeared.
It is not improbable that Dr. Ruben Sherwood, at the
time of Abbot Feckenham's visit, occupied a long build-
ing, parallel to the west end of the abbey church on the
south side, which existed till 1755. This had probably
been the Prior's quarters and was subsequently known
as Abbey House. Collinson says that the house was
again rendered habitable some time after the dissolution,
and that parts of it, " obsolete offices and obscure rooms
and lofts," were left in their former state and had never
been occupied after their desertion by the monks. The
historian of Somerset also speaks of a find of old vest-
ments and other ecclesiastical garments in a walled-up
apartment in this old house in 1755; but unfortunately
the things fell to dust, and we have no description of
them. It strikes me, however, as more than possible that
they were vestments for the use of priests, who were
compelled to hide away during penal times. Be that as
it may, it would appear more than likely that Dr. Ruben
ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH 217
Sherwood lived in these old quarters, and that it was
here that he received Abbot Feckenham when he came
to take the waters in 1575. Certainly his son, John
Sherwood, also a physician and a " recusant," had a
lease of the house and premises till his death in 1620,
and used to receive patients who came for the Bath
waters.
During his stay at this renowned watering-place,
Abbot Feckenham was not wholly occupied with the
cure of his own ills. It seemed impossible for him not
to think of others, and here in this city he felt himself
moved with compassion to see how the poor, deprived
of their charitable foundations during the religious up-
heaval, were excluded from the use and benefit of the
medicinal waters. He therefore built for them, with his
own means, a small bath and hospital. In his Descrip-
tion of Bath, written nearly two centuries after, a writer
thus speaks of it: " The lepers' hospital is a building of
8 ft. 6 in. in front towards the East on the ground floor,
14 ft. in front above and 13 ft. in depth, but yet it is
furnished with seven beds for the most miserable of
objects, who fly to Bath for relief from the hot waters.
This hovel stands at the corner of Nowhere Lane, and
is so near the lepers' bath that the poor are under little
or no difficulty in stepping from one place to the other."
A slight record of the abbot's work in this matter is
found in the accounts of the City Chamberlain for 1576:
" Delyvered to Mr. Fekewand, late abbot of West-
minster, three tonnes of Tymber and x foote to builde
the howse for the poore by the whote bath, xxxiiis. iiiid.
To hym more iiiic of lathes at xd the c, iiis. 4c!. "
Feckenham placed his little foundation under the direc-
tion of the hospital of St. Mary Magdalene, and it seems
2i8 ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH
that in 1804, when the Corporation pulled down "the
hovel," £200 was paid to the hospital in Holloway in
compensation. The old bath itself was utilised by
Wood as an underground tank when he built the Royal
Baths.
Besides this practical act of charity to the poor of
Bath, Abbot Feckenham drew up a book of recipes
and directions to help those who could not afford a
physician to recover their health. This MS. is now in
the British Museum, and at the beginning of the volume
the reader is told that, " This book of Sovereign medi-
cines against the most common and known diseases
both of men and women was by good proofe and long
experience collected of Mr. Doctor Fecknam, late Abbot
of Westminster, and that chiefly for the poore, which
hathe not at alle tymes the learned phisitions at hand."
In these days a collection of simple remedies such as
those here brought together, is, of course, of small value
or interest. Many of these remedies are old family
recipes and are said to be taken " from my cosen's
D. H.'s book"— or from " Mistress H's" — no doubt one
of the family of Howman. But what is of interest in
this regard, is a set of rules drawn up by the Abbot for
those who would profit by taking or bathing in the Bath
waters.
" Prescriptions and Rules to be observed at
the Bathe
" When you com to Bathe after your joyrnneing rest
and quiet your bodie for the space of a daie or two and
sc the faccion of the Bathe how and after what sort
others that are there do use the same.
ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH 219
"If it be not a faire cleare daie to, go not into the
open bathe, but rather use the water in a bathing vessel
in yor own chamber as many men doe.
" The best time in the daie to go into the bathes is in
the morning an houre or half an houre after the sunne
riseing, or there about, in the most quiet time. And
when you shall feel your stomache well and quiet and
that your meet is well digested and have rested well the
night before. But before you goe into this bath you
must walke an houre at the leaste in your chamber or
else where.
" You must go into your Bath with an emptie stomake
and so to remayne as long as you are in it except great
necessitie require the contrarie. And then to take some
little supping is not hurtefull. Let your tarrying be in
the Bathe accordinge as you may well abide it, but tarry
not so long in any wyse at the fyrst allthough you may
well abyde it that yor strength att no tyme may fayl
you.
" You may tarry in the crosse bathe an houre and a
halfe att a tyme after the firste bathinge. And in the
Kynges Bathe you may tarry after the first batheinges
at one time half an houre or 3 quarters of an houre. But
in any wyse tarry at no time untyll you be faynt, or
that yor strength fayld you.
" And yf at any time you be faynt in the bath then
you may drynke some ale warmed with a taste or any
other suppinge, or green ginger, or yf need be aqua
composita metheridate the bignes of a nut kernell at a
time either by itself or mixed with ale or other liquor.
" As longe as you are in any of the Bathes you must
cover your head very well that you take no colde thereof,
for it is very perilious to take any cold one your head in
220 ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH
the bathe or in any other place during your bathinge
tyme.
" When you forth of any of the Bathes se that you
cover your head very well and dry of the water of your
bodie with warme clothes and then put on a warm shert
and a mantle or some warm gowns for taking of cold
and so go straight way to warmed bed and sweat ther
yf you can and wype off the sweat diligently and after
that you may sleepe a whyle, but you must not drynke
anything until dinner tyme, except you be very faint
and then you may take a little sugar candie or a few
rasons or a little thin broath but small quantitie to slake
your thirste onlie, because it is not good to eat or drynke
by or by after the bathe untill you have slept a little yf
you can.
" After that you have sweat and slept enough and be
clearly delivered fro the heat that you had in the bathe
and in your bedd then you may ryse and walk a lytle
and so go to your dynner, for by mesureable walking
the evill vapers and wyndines of the stomache that are
take in the Bathe be driven away and utterlie voyded.
" After all this then go to your dynner and eate ol
good meat but not very much that you may ryse fro the
table with some appetite so that you could eat more yf
you wolde and yet you must not eat too little for de-
caying of your strength.
" Let your bread bee of good sweet wheate and of one
dayes bakeinge or ii at the most and your meat well
boylled or rosted. And specially let these be your
meatcs, mutton, vcale, chicken, rabbet, capon, fesaunt,
Patrich or the like.
" You may eat also fresh water fish, so it be not
muddie as eles and the like, refraining all salt fish as
ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH 22f
lyng, haberdyne, &c. Avoyd all frutes and rare herbs,
salletts and the lyke.
"Apparell your bodie accordinge to the coldness of
the wether and the temperature of the eyre, but in any
wyse take no cold.
" And yf you bathe agayne in the after noune or att
after Dinner then take a very lyght dinner as a cople
of potched eggs, a caudell or some thine broath with a
chicken and then 4 or 5 hours after your dynner so
taken you may bathe agayne and in any wyse tarrie not
so longe in the bathe as you did in the fore noone."
It is apparently impossible to determine certainly how
long Abbot Feckenham remained at Bath — probably it
was until the spring of 1576. In the middle of 1577 he
was certainly back in London, for Aylmer, Bishop of
London, in June of that year, had complained of the
influence of those lie called " active popish dignitaries,"
amongst whom he names the abbot, and begs that they
may be again placed in the custody of some of the
bishops. In consequence of this representation, Wals-
ingham wrote to some of their lordships to ask their
advice as to " what is meetest to be done with Watson,
Feckenham, Harpefield and others of that ring that are
thought to be leaders and pillars of the consciences of
great numbers of such as be carried with the errors."
As a result of the episcopal advice, Cox, the bishop of
Ely, in July, 1 577, was directed to receive Abbot Fecken-
ham into his house, and a stringent code of regulations
was drawn up for the treatment of the aged abbot. Dr.
Cox did his best to convert his prisoner to his own
religious views, but without success, and in August,
1578, was fain to write to Burghley that his efforts had
failed and that Feckenham " was a gentle person, but in
222 ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH
popish religion too, too obdurate." Nothing was done at
that time, and the abbot remained on until 1580, when
in June Bishop Cox wrote to say that he could put up
with him no longer; so in July, 1580, the late abbot of
Westminster was once more moved, this time to Wisbeach
Castle, the disused and indeed partly ruinous dwelling
place of the bishops of Ely.
Wisbeach was not a cheerful abode. It has been well
described in the following words: "During the winter
the sea mists drifting landwards almost always hung over
and hid the castle walls. Broad pools and patches of
stagnant waters, green with rank weeds, and wide
marshes and sterile fiats lay outspread all around for
miles. The muddy river was constantly overflowing its
broken-down banks, so that the moat of the castle con-
stantly flooded the adjacent garden and orchard. Of
foliage, save a few stunted willow trees, there was little
or none in sight ; for when summer came round the sun's
heat soon parched up the rank grass in the courtyard,
and without, the dandelion and snapdragon which grew
upon its massive but dilapidated walls."
Such was the prison in which Abbot Feckenham was
destined to pass the last few years of his life. Even the
rigours of his detention and the dismal surroundings of
his prison-house were unable to extinguish his bene-
volent feelings for others. His last public work was the
repair of the causeway over the fens and the erection of
a market cross in the little town. He died in 1584, and
on the 16th of October he was buried in the churchyard
of the parish of Wisbeach.
I have very little more to add. Stevens, the continu-
ator of Dugdale, describes Abbot Feckenham as a man
of "a mean stature, somewhat fat, round-faced, beautiful
ABBOT FECKENHAM AND BATH 223
and of a pleasant aspect, affable and lively in conversa-
tion." Camden calls him "a man learned and good, who
lived a long time and gained the affection of his adver-
saries by publicly deserving well of the poor." To the
last he never forgot the poor of Westminster. In the
overseer's accounts of the parish of St. Margaret's it is
recorded in 1590: "Over and besides the sum of forty
pounds given by John Fecknam, sometime abbot of
Westminster, for a stock to buy wood for the poor of
Westminster, and to sell two faggots for a penny, and
seven billets for a penny, which sum of forty pounds doth
remain in the hands of the churchwardens." He also left
a bequest to the poor of his first monastic home of
Evesham.
Such is a brief outline of a man, who in his day de-
lighted in doing good to others. In spite of difficulties
which would have crushed out the energies of most men
he persevered in his benefactions. Amongst other places
that benefited by his love for the poor is this great city
of Bath which may well revere his memory and inscribe
his name upon the illustrious roll of its worthies.
VII
CHRISTIAN FAMILY LIFE IN
PRE-REFORMATION DAYS1
MY subject is one of great and enduring interest —
" The Christian Family Life." Looking back
across my own more than half a century of experience, I
see — or shall I say seem to see? — that a great change
has taken place in the family life of Catholics, and that
to-day — speaking broadly — it is not what it was fifty
years ago. Did I not know that there is apparently a
natural tendency as men get on in life to disparage the
present in comparison with the past, I should be inclined
to say that the ideals of the Christian family as we re-
cognise them to-day have as a whole greatly deteriorated,
and that some have been dropped altogether as unsuited
for the days in which we live. In the task that has been
assigned to me it is perhaps fortunate, for myself, that I
am not in any way called upon either to establish this
deterioration as a fact, or to endeavour to ascertain
the cause, if it be a fact; or yet, again, to suggest pos-
sible remedies. My comparatively easy task is to set
before you at least the broad outlines of Catholic home
life in pre-Reformation days. It may, however, be useful
for me to preface that story with a few words upon the
general question as it appears at the present day.
The Catholic life depends in great measure for its
' A paper read at the Catholic Conference at Brighton, 1906.
224
FAMILY LIFE IN PRE-REFORMATION DAYS 225
existence and its growth upon the Christianity of the
family life. I take this to be an axiom. For although it
may be allowed that the grace of God may so act upon
the individual soul as to produce the flowers of virtue
amid the most chilling surroundings and in the mephitic
atmosphere of a bad home, still in His providence the
ordinary nursery of all God's servants is a home pre-
sided over by pious parents, who themselves practise the
religion they teach their children. The father, mother,
and children together make up the sacred institution of
God called the family. Without the parental influence,
example, and teaching, the child will hardly have a
chance of acquiring even the mere elements of religion
or the first principles of an ordered life. The child is for
the most part the creation of its surroundings, and no
amount of schooling in the best of " atmospheres," or of
religious instruction from the most capable of teachers,
can supply the influences which are lacking in the home
life. On parents rests the responsibility — a heavy re-
sponsibility of which they cannot divest themselves — of
training their offspring in habits of virtue — of seeing, for
example, that they say their prayers, attend church, re-
ceive the Sacraments and, as their minds expand, are
properly instructed in their duty to God and their fellow-
men. The knowledge that their example will almost in-
evitably be copied by those they have brought into the
world should act upon parents as a restraint upon word
and action, and they should share personally in all the
prayers and acts of religion they inculcate as necessary.
There is much, no doubt, in surroundings and circum-
stances, but there is no home so humble that it may not
be a school of sound, solid, practical Catholic life; there
are no surroundings and circumstances, however hard
Q
226 CHRISTIAN FAMILY LIFE IN
and difficult, in which the Christian family, recognising
its obligations, cannot practise the lesson taught by the
Holy Household at Nazareth. Of course it is religion
which must bind the members of the family together,
and no ties are secure, or will bear the stress of life,
which are not strengthened by prayer and the faithful
practice of religious duties.
FORGETFULNESS OF THE FAMILY TlE
In these days — when the State so frequently steps in
to usurp parental rights and to give relief from parental
duties; when the Church, in its anxiety to secure some
kind of religious knowledge, is looked upon as freeing
the parent from its duty of imparting it; and when the
well-meaning philanthropist urges free meals and free
boots as the necessary corollary of compulsory education
— the whole duty of man and woman to those they have
brought into the world, and the family tie binding
parents and children together, are in danger of being
forgotten. The State regulations for secular education
claim children almost before they can toddle, and gra-
tuitously instruct them in all manner of subjects, some
no doubt useful, but many more wholly unnecessary if
they are not positively harmful. The parent is almost a
negligible quantity in the matter, and, by way of a set-
off against this treatment, he is not called upon to con-
tribute a penny towards his child's education, although
in the greater number of cases, as was shown by the ex-
perience of years, he is fully able to do so. The priest
has to see to the religious side of education. His ex-
perience is that the parent seldom troubles much about
this side of his duty, and that it is with difficulty that he
PRE-REFORMATION DAYS 227
can be £Ot to take an active interest in his child's moral
training, or even to second the priest's efforts for the
eternal welfare of the child, for whom, by every principle
of natural and divine law, he is responsible. When the
notion of responsibility for education goes from the
parental mind, with it departs in most cases the sense of
duty to the religious obligations incumbent on every
parent in regard to the soul of his child. Unless, there-
fore, the priest taught the children to pray and instructed
them in their faith and duty, unless he prepared them
for the Sacraments, unless he saw that they approached
them regularly, unless he drilled them to come to Mass
on the Sundays and Holydays, no one else would do so.
Hence the priest has to go on trying to fulfil much of
the responsibilities of parents, in spite of the danger that
the child, as it grows in age and knowledge, may come
to look upon all this religious training as a mere detail
of school work from which age emancipates it — a dis-
aster which will be all the more certain if the religious
lessons given are not enforced by the example of its
parents in the home life, and by their obedience to the
practical obligations of religion.
All this raises questions of the utmost importance,
and in the opinion of many priests of experience, no
greater service to religion at the present day could be
effected than some crusade that would bring home to
Catholic parents the necessity of returning in their
home lives to the traditions and example of their an-
cestors in the Faith. As a small contribution, I propose
to set out as briefly as may be what the life was that
was lived in England and in English Christian homes in
pre- Reformation days, in order that we may have some
measure of comparison.
228 christian family life in
Early Rising
In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries our fore-
fathers were early risers, and probably the usual time
for the household to bestir itself was not later than six.
Hugh Rhodes' Book of Nature teaches:
Ryse you earely in the morning,
For it hath propertyes three :
Holynesse, health, and happey welth
As my father taught mee.
At syxe of the clocke, without delay
Use commonly to ryse,
And give God thanks for thy good rest
When thou openest thyn eyes.
This same hour of six was ordered by the Bishop of
Rochester for the officers of the household of his pupil
Prince Edward, afterwards King Edward V, to hear
their morning Mass. The King, in appointing Earl
Rivers and the Bishop tutors to his son in 1470, en-
joined that he should not be allowed to lie in bed, but
that he should rise "every morning at a convenient
hour."
The Prymer of 1538 (the first English one, though
printed at Rouen) in its " Maner to lyve well, devoutly
and salutaryly every day, for all persones of mean
estate," says: " Fyrst rise at six in the morning in all
seasons and in doing so thank God for the rest He has
given to you."
Morning Prayers
This brings us to the first daily morning exercise on
which our ancestors set such store. The School of Vevtue
for little children says:
I'RE-REFORMATION DAYS 229
First in the mornynge when thou dost awake
To God for his grace thy peticion then make
This prayer folowynge use dayly to say
Thy harte lyftynge up ; thus begyn to pray :
O God, from whom all good gifts procede,
To Thee we repayr in tyme of our need.
And so through a prayer for grace to follow virtue and
flee from vice, and for God's special protection during
the day which is then beginning, which the child asks
may be spent:
To thy honour and joy of our parentes
Learninge to lyve well and kepe thy commandmentes.
Richard Whytford — " the Wretch of Syon " — in his
Werke for HonsJiolders, or for them that have the gydyng
or governaunce of any company, thus sets out a form of
early morning exercise which is specially intended for
the use not of recluses or cloistered religious, but of
those having to live an ordinary Christian life in the
world :
" As soon as ye do awake in the morning to arise for
al day [he writes] first sodeynly tourne your mind and
remembrance unto Almighty God ; and then use (by a
contynual custom) to make a cross with your thombe on
your forehead or front, in saying of these wordes: In
nomine Patris ; and then another cross upon your mouth
with these words, Et Filii ; and then a third cross upon
your breast, saying Et Spiritus Sancti, Amen.
" And if your devotion be thereto ye may again make
one whole cross from your head unto your feet and
from your lyfte shoulder unto your right saying alto-
gether, /;/ nomine Patris, &c. That is to say, ' I do
blesse and marke myself with the cognysaunce and
badge of Christ, in the Name of the Father, &c, the
230 CHRISTIAN FAMILY LIFE IN
Holy Trinity, three persons and one God.' Then say or
thynke after this form: 'Good Lord God, my Maker
and my Redeemer, here now in thy presence, I (for thys
tyme and for all the tyme of my hole lyfe) do bequeath
and bytake or rather do freely give myselfe, soule and
body,' " etc.
The Prymer before named speaks of the first prayer
of the day as to be said at once on rising:
" Commende you to God, to our Blessyd Lady Sainte
Mary and to that saint that is feasted that day and to
all the saints of heaven. Secondly, Beseech God that he
preserve you that day from deadly sin and at all other
tymes, and pray Him that all the works that other doth
for you may be accept to the laud of his name and of
his glorious Mother and of all the company of heaven."
So, too, in The Young Children's Booh, a version of an
earlier set of rhymes, the child is told to —
Aryse be tyme out of thi bedde
And blysse thi breast and thi forhede.
Then wasche thi hondes and thi face
Kerne thi hede, and aske God grace
The to helpe in all thi werkes;
Thou schall spede better what so thou carpes.
Hearing Mass
So much for the early morning exercise; we come
now to the question of the morning Mass. I do not
think that there can be much doubt that all in pre-
Reformation days were not satisfied that they had done
their duty if they did not hear Mass daily if they were
able to do so. Of course it is obvious that very many
would be prevented by their occupations and business
from going to the church on the week-days, but even
PRE-REFORMATION DAYS 231
for these the prevalence of the custom in cities and
towns of having an early Mass at four, five, or six
o'clock in the morning, which was known as the " Mor-
row Mass " or the " Jesu Mass," is an indication that
people were anxious to have the opportunity of attend-
ing at the Holy Sacrifice. This is all the more certain,
as this Mass was generally offered as the result of some
special benefaction for the purpose or by reason of the
stipend found by the people of a parish, " gathered
wekely of the devotion of the parishioners," as one
foundation deed declared, in order that " travellers " or
" those at work " might know that they could hear their
Mass without interfering with the necessary business of
their lives. Even when actual presence was impossible,
the mediaeval Catholic was taught to join in spirit in the
Great Sacrifice when it was being offered up on the altar
of his parish church. According to some antiquaries,
the origin of the low side-window to be found in many
churches was to enable the clerk or server at Mass to
ring a hand-bell out of it at the " Sanctus " in order to
warn people at work in the neighbouring fields and else-
where that the more solemn part of the Mass had begun.
We can hardly doubt that this practice did really exist,
in view of a Constitution of Archbishop Peckham in
1281. In this he orders that "at the time of the eleva-
tion of the body of our Lord (in the Mass) a bell be
rung on one side of the church, that those who cannot
be at daily Mass, no matter where they may be,
whether in the fields or their own homes, may kneel
down and so gain the indulgences granted by many
bishops " to such as perform this act of devotion.
Andrew Borde, in his Regyment, incidentally gives
testimony to the practice of hearing daily Mass on the
232 CHRISTIAN FAMILY LIFE IN
part of those whose occupations permitted them so to
do. After speaking of rising and dressing, he says: —
" Then great and noble men doth use to here Masse,
and other men that cannot do so, but must apply [to]
theyr busyness, doth serve God with some prayers, sur-
rendrynge thanks to hym for hys manyfodd goodness,
with askyng mercye for theyr offences."
The Venetian traveller who at the beginning of the
sixteenth century wrote his impressions of England,
was struck with the way the people attended the morn-
ing Mass: —
" They all attend Mass every day [he writes], and say
many Paternosters in public. The women carry long
rosaries in their hands, and any who can read take the
office of our Lady with them, and with some companion
recite it in church, verse by verse, in a low voice, after
the manner of churchmen."
Some years later another Venetian wrote that, when
in England, every morning " at day break he went to
Mass arm-in-arm with some nobleman or other."
King Edward IV, in the rules he drew up for the
household of his son, says that: " Every morning (after
rising) two chaplains shall say Matins in his presence,
and then he shall go to chapel or closet and hear Mass,"
which shall never be said in his chamber except for
" some grave cause." " No man to interrupt him during
Masse time."
In the Preface to The Lay Folkes Mass Book Canon
Simmons gives ample authority for the statement that
in Catholic times all who could were supposed to hear
daily Mass, and that unless prevented by necessary
work or business they in fact did so very generally. In
VVynkyn de Worde's Boke of Kervynge the chamberlain
PRE-REFORMATION DAYS 233
is instructed "at morne" to "go to the church or chapell
to your soveraynes closet and laye carpentes and cuye-
shens and put downe his boke of prayers and then draw
the curtynes." And so in the same way Robert of
Gloucester says of William the Conqueror, reflecting no
doubt the manners of the age in which he himself wrote:
" In churche he was devout ynou, for him non day [to]
abyde that he na hurde masse and matyns and even-
son[g] and eche tyde." On which quotation Canon
Simmons remarks: "That the rule of the Church was
not a dead letter is perhaps unmistakeably shown by the
matter-of-course way in which hearing Mass before
breaking fast is introduced as an incident in the every-
day life of knights and other personages in works of
fiction which, nevertheless, in their details were no
doubt true to the ordinary habits of the class they were
intended to portray."
As a matter of course, in The Young Children's Book
the child is taught when his morning's exercise has been
done: —
Than go to the chyrche and here a Masse
There aske mersy for thi trespasse.
And in an old set of verses called The Day es of the Weke
Moralysed, for Monday, the first work day, the following
advice is given : —
Monday men ought me for to call
In wich, good werkes ought to begyn
Heryng Masse, the first dede of all
Intendyng to fie deadly syn, etc.
With regard to attendance at Holy Mass it is import-
ant to observe that the people were fully instructed in
the way they ought to behave in church during the
234 CHRISTIAN FAMILY LIFE IN
sacred rite, and, indeed, at all times. Myrc, in his In-
structions^ bids the clergy tell their people that on com-
ing into God's house they should remember to leave
outside " many wordes " and " ydel speche," and to put
away all vanity and say Pater noster and Ave. They
are to be warned not to stand aimlessly about in the
church, nor to loll against the pillars or the wall, but
they should kneel on the floor
And praye to God wyth herte meke
To give them grace and mercy eke.
So, too, Seager in The School of Vertue says : —
When to the church thou shalt repayer
Knelying or standynge to God make thy prayer :
All worldely matters from thy mynde set apart
Earnestly prayinge to God lyfte up thy hart
A contrite harte he wyll not dispyse,
Whiche he doth coumpt a sweet sacrifice.
Richard Whytford, speaking to householders of their
duty to see that those under their charge come to the
Sunday Mass, writes: —
" Take the pain what you may to go forth yourself
and call your folk to follow. And when you ben at the
church do nothing else but that you come for. And
look oft time upon them that ben under your charge
that all they be occupied lyke (at the least) unto de-
voute Chrystyans. For the church (as our Saviour saithe)
is a place of prayer not of claterynge and talking. And
charge them also to keep their sight in church close upon
their books or bedes. And while they ben younge let
them use ever to kneel, stand or sit, and never to walk
in church. And let them hear the Masse quietly and
devoutly, moche part kneeling. But at the Gospel, at
PRE-REFORMATION DAYS 235
the Preface and at the Pater noster teach them to stand
and to make curtsey at the word Jesus as the priest
clothe."
When the bell sounds for the Consecration, says
another instruction, all, " both ye younge and olde," fall
on their knees, and holding up both their hands pray
softly to themselves thus : —
Jesu ! Lord, welcome thou be
In form of bread as I thee see:
Jesu ! for thy holy name
Shield me to-day from sin and shame ;
or in some similar way such as the Salve, lux mundi:
" Hail, light of the world, word of the Father; Hail,
thou true victim, the living and entire flesh of God made
true man" — or in the words of the better known Anima
Christi sanctified Die.
Grace at Meals
After morning Mass comes the first meal, which comes
before the occupations of the day begin. At this and at
every meal children were taught to bless themselves by
the sign of the Cross, and to follow the head of the
family as he called down God's blessing upon what His
providence had provided for them. At dinner and at
supper there was apparently some reading in many
families, which was at any rate a means of teaching
some useful things, and of avoiding, as one account
says, "much idle and unprofitable talk." In 1470 it is
ordered that at meals Prince Edward should have " read
before him such rolls, stories, &c, fit for a prince to
hear"; and Whytford thinks that meal-time in a Chris-
tian family could not be spent better than upon incul-
236 CHRISTIAN FAMILY LIFE IN
eating the religious duties and knowledge which parents
are bound to see that their children know. In the scheme
of instruction he sets forth he says: —
" Ben such thynges as they been bounde to knowe, or
can saye, that is the Pater Noster, the Ave Maria, and
the Crede, with such other things as done follow. I
wolde therefore you should begin with [those under your
care] betimes in youth as soon as they can speak. For
it is an old saying: ' The pot or vessel shall ever savour
and smell of that thing wherewith it is first seasoned,'
and your English proverb sayeth that ' the young cock
croweth as he doth hear and lerne of the old.' You may
in youth teche them what you will and that shall they
longest keep and remember. You should therefore,
above all thynges, take heed and care in what company
your chylder ben nouryshed and brought up. For edu-
cation and doctrine, that is to say bringing up and
learning, done make ye manners. With good and ver-
tuous persons (sayth the prophet) you shall be good
and vertuous. And with evil persons you shall also be
evil. Let your chylder therefore use and keep good
company. The pye, the jaye, and other birds done
speak what they most hear by [the] ear. The plover
by sight will follow the gesture and behaviour of the
fowler, and the ape by exercise worke and do as she is
taught, and so will the dog (by violence) contrary to
natural disposition learne to daunce. The chylder, there-
fore, that by reason do farre exceed other creatures, will
bear away what they hear spoken ; they should therefore
be used unto such company where they sholde heare
none evil, but where they may hear godly and Chrystyan
wordes. They wyll also, in their gestures and behaviour,
have such manners as they use and behold in other per-
PRE-REFORMATION DAYS 237
sons so will they do. Unto some craftes or occupations
a certain age is required, but virtue and vice may be
learned in every age. See therefore that in any wyse
you let them use no company but good and vcrtuous.
And as soon as they can speak let them first learn to
serve God and to say the Pater, Ave, and Crede. And
not onely your chylder, but also se you and prove that
all your servants what age so ever they be of, can say
the same, and therefore I have advised many persons
and here do counsel that in every meal, dynner, or
souper one person should with loud voice saye thus,"
etc.
Whytford then gives a long explanation of the Our
Father, etc., in which may be found set forth, as in the
many similar tracts written in the Middle Ages, the full
teaching of the Church on faith and practice.
Guard of the Tongue
The foundations of the Christian virtues have to be
laid early in life, and the parent or head of the family is
warned constantly of his obligation of seeing that this
is being done, and of rooting out every tendency to evil
in those of whom they have charge. Bad language is to
be specially guarded against, and the first indication of
the formation of a habit to be noted and means taken
to put a stop to its growth. Richard Whytford suggests
that children should be made to repeat the following
lines: —
Yf I lye, backebyte or stelle,
Yf I curse, scorne, mocke or swere
Yf I chyde, fyght, stryke or threte
Good mother or maystresse myne
Yf ony of these myne
2*8 CHRISTIAN FAMILY LIFE IN
o
I trespace to your knowyng
With a new rodde and a fyne
Early naked before I dyne
Amende me with a scourgyng.
and then, continues the writer: —
" I pray you fulfil and performe theyr petition and
request, and think it not cruelly, but mercyfully done.
. . Your daily practice doth show unto you that yf
you powder your flesh while it is newe and sweet, it will
continue good meet, but yf it smell before it be powdred
all the salt you have shall never make it seasonable.
Powder your children, therefore, betyme and then you
love them and shall have comfort of them."
Correction, however, should not be done in anger,
and all are to understand that the pain of him who
administers the rod is greater than his who receives the
punishment. Before children the greatest care is neces-
sary not to do anything that they may not imitate. All
idle expressions and vain oaths should be avoided, for
such habits are catching, and the young are to be taught
to say with respect " Yea, father," " Nay, father," or " Yea,
mother," " No, mother," and not to get into the habit of
making use of such expressions as " by cocke and pye,"
" by my hood of green," etc.
Work
It is unnecessary to go through the day in any well-
constituted family in Catholic England. Work was every-
where insisted upon as necessary in God's service, and
work was savoured,. so to speak, by the remembrance of
God's presence. The two orders of the natural and super-
natural were not so separated as they are generally sup-
posed to be to-day. Of course there are many in our
PRE-REFORMATION DAYS 239
day who no doubt keep themselves in God's presence,
but whilst I believe that most will allow that this is the
exception, in the ages of faith it was apparently the
rule; and if we may judge from the books of instruction
and other evidence, God was not far removed from the
threshold of most Catholic families in pre-Reforma-
tion days. Of course there were exceptions, and many
perhaps led as wicked lives as now, but there is obvi-
ously something about the family life of that time which
is lacking in this. There was the constant recognition
of God's sanctifying presence in the family. Of this I
have spoken, and over and beside this there were those
common religious practices of prayer and religious self-
restraint and mutual encouragement to virtue of which,
alas, the modern counterpart of the old English home
knows so little. On the faith of those simple and gener-
ally unlettered people there was a bloom — I know of no
better word to express what I see — which perished as
one of the results of the religious revolution of the six-
teenth century.
I have said that the family exercised themselves in
prayer in common. It has been doubted whether people
really did attend their churches for the liturgical services,
such as Matins and Evensong on Sundays and feast
days. The evidence that they did so very generally is
to me conclusive. But beyond that, we know that many
who could read made a practice of saying the Little
Office day by day, thus joining in the spirit of the
canonical hours ordered by the Church. I have pointed
out that Edward IV directed that the chaplains should
recite the " Divine Service " with the Prince his son
daily. The 1538 Prymer — intended, of course, for the
use of the laity — assumes that the "Office" is said by
240 CHRISTIAN FAMILY LIFE IN
all who can. In the directions it gives on the point for
the Christian man's day it says: " As touching your ser-
vice say unto Tierce before dinner and make an end
before supper. And when ye may say Dirige and Com-
mendations for all Christian souls (at least on Holy
Days, and if ye have leisure say them on the other days)
at the least with three lessons." I have noted how the
Venetian traveller spoke of the practice of English people
coming to say their " Office " together in church.
Parents and Children
Priests are warned of their duty to instruct parents as
to the necessity of bringing their children to the Sacra-
ments and to the Mass and other services on the Sundays
and feast days. Such fathers and mothers as may be
found to neglect this duty are to be punished by fasting
on bread and water, and the clergy are to make sure by
personal examination that as children grow up they have
been sufficiently instructed in their religion by their
parents. Should the parents fail in this respect the god-
parents were held to be personally responsible. On the
afternoons of the Sundays, when Evensong was over, the
father was to " appoint " his children " thyr pastyme with
great diligence and straight commandment." Whytford
says that he " should assign and appoint them the man-
ner of their disports, honest ever and lawful for a reason-
able recreation . . . and also appoint the time or space
that they be not (for any sports) from the service of
God. Appoynt them also ye place, that you may call
or send for them when case requireth. For if there be a
sermon any tyme of the day, let them be there present —
all that be not occupied in nedeful and lawful besyness,
PRE-REFORMATION DAYS 241
" When ye are come from the church (in the early
morning) [says the Rule of Life printed in 1538], take
hede to your house holde or occupacyon till dyner tyme.
And in so doing thynke sometyme that the pain that ye
suffer in this vvorlde is nothyng to the regarde of the
infinite glory that ye shall have yf ye take it meekly. . . .
Shrive you every week to your curate unless you have
very great lette. If ye be of power refuse not your alms
to the first poor body that axeth it of you that day if ye
think it needful. Take pain to hear and keep the word
of God. Confess you every day to God without fail of
such sins ye know ye have done that day. Consider
often either day or night when ye do awake what our
Lord did at that hour the day of his blessyd passion
and where he was at that hour.
" Seek a good faithful friend of good conversation to
whom ye may discover your mind secrets. Enquire and
prove him well or ye trust in him. And when ye have
well proved hym do all by his counsell. Say lytell: and
follow virtuous company. After all work praise and
thank God. Love hym above all things and serve hym
and hys glorious mother diligently. Do to non other
but that ye wolde were done to you : love the welth of
another as your owne.
" And in going to your bedde have some good thought
either of the passyon of our Lord or of your synne, or of
the pains which souls have in purgatory, or some other
good spiritual thoughts, and then I hope your lyving
shall be acceptable and pleasing to God."
The Evening Blessing
Most books of instruction for children insist much
upon an old Catholic practice which still survives in
R
242 CHRISTIAN FAMILY LIFE IN
some countries, but which, I fear, has fallen much into
disuse with us in these days, when the relations between
parent and child are more free and easy than they used
to be in pre-Reformation Catholic England. Speaking of
the Fourth Commandment, Richard Whytford says: —
" Teche your children to axe blessing every night,
kneeling before their parents under this form : ' Father,
I beseech you of blessing for charity ' : or thus : ' Mother,
I beseech you of charity give me your blessing.' Then
let the father and mother holde up bothe ther handes
and joining them both togyder look up reverently and
devoutly unto heaven and say thus: 'Our Lord God
bless you children,' and therewith make a cross with the
right hand over the child, saying ' In Nomine} &c.
" And if any child be stiff hearted, stubborn and fro-
ward and will not thus axe a blessing, if it be within
age, let it surely be whysked with a good rod and be
compelled thereunto by force. And if the persons be
of farther age and past such correction and yet will be
obstinate, let them have such sharpe and grievous punish-
ment as conveniently may be devysed, as to sit at dinner
alone and by themselves at a stool in the middle of the
hall, with only brown bread and water, and every person
in order to rebuke them as they would rebuke a thief
and traitor. I would not advise ne counsel any parents
to keep such a child in their house without great afflic-
cyon and punishment."
This mediaeval reverence for parents was much insisted
upon by all writers. Hugh Rhodes' " Book of Nurture,"
printed in the Babees Book, for example, says to the
child:—
When that thy parents come in syght doe to them reverence
Aske them blessing if they have been long out of presence.
PRE-REFORMATION DAYS 243
In this regard no doubt we shall all call to mind what is
told of the brave and blessed Sir Thomas More. Even
when Lord Chancellor, morning after morning, before
sitting in his own court to hear the cases to be argued
before him, he was wont to go to the place where his
father, Sir John More, was presiding as judge, and there
on his knees crave his parent's blessing on the work of
the day.
Filial Reverence
Another pre-Reformation writer warns children never
to be wanting in due courteous behaviour to their
parents: "What man he is your father, you ought to
make courtesye to hym all though you should mete hym
twenty tymes a daye." On his side the parent is warned
frequently in the literature of the period " not to spoil
his son " by neglecting a " gentle whysking " when it
was deserved. He is to be watched, and incipient bad
habits forthwith corrected during
That tyme chyldren is moost apt and redy
To receyve chastisement, nurture and lernynge.
For " the child that begynneth to pyke at a pin or a
point will after pyke unto an ox, and from a peer to a
purse or an hors, and so fro the small things unto the
great." If a child, writes one educationalist of those
days, is caught taking even a pin, let him be set with a
note pinned to him: "This is the thief." Let this be
done in the house, but should this fail to correct the
habit let him carry his docket into the street of the city.
The Lesson of it all
This brief indication of the characteristics of the
Catholic family life in pre-Reformation days might be
244 FAMILY LIFE IN PRE-REFORMATION DAYS
lengthened out almost to any extent. The main lines
would, however, remain the same, and additional details
would only show more clearly how close in those days
the supernatural was to the natural — how God was ever
present, and how the sense of this real though unseen
presence affected the daily life of all in every Christian
home. The proof lies on the surface of every record.
The names of " Jesus and Mary " are found written on
the top of almost every scrap of paper and every column
of account ; the wills begin with the invocation of the
Blessed Trinity and generally contain some expression
indicative of gratitude to the Providence of God and of
belief in the immortality of the soul and of the reward
gained by a life of virtue; letters are dated by reference
to some Sunday or festival and so on. One has only to
turn over the pages of that wonderful collection of
fifteenth-century epistles known as the Paston Letters, to
see what the Church festivals and saints' days were to
the people of those Catholic times, and how they entered
into their very lives. A letter is frequently dated on the
Monday, etc. (whatever day of the week it might be)
before or after such or such a celebration. At times the
date is taken from the words of some collect of the pre-
ceding Sunday, as when Agnes Paston heads a com-
munication as " written at Paston in haste the Wednesday
next after Deus qui errantibus." How many of us, with
all the advantages we have in printed missals, would at
once know, as this lady, and doubtless, too, her corre-
spondent did, that this date was the Wednesday in the
third week after Easter?
VIII
CHRISTIAN DEMOCRACY IN
PRE-REFORMATION TIMES1
WE are all of us, I take it, interested in the social
questions which nowadays are clamouring for
consideration. In all parts of the civilised globe the
voice of democracy has made itself heard ; it has arrested
the attention of rulers and statesmen, and has proved
that the day when popular aspirations received sufficient
answer in the sic volo sic jubeo of the autocrat is past;
and, moreover, that the " masses " have at least as much
right to be considered as the " classes." Perhaps fortun-
ately for myself, I am not directly concerned to explain,
much less to defend, the principles of what is broadly
known as " Christian democracy." About all this matter
opinions differ very widely indeed; and although, I
suppose, we may all of us, in these days, claim to be
socialists of some kind of type, there is obviously, even
amongst us Catholics, such divergence of opinion that
any preliminary attempt to clear the ground with a view
to agreement even on first principles is not uncommonly
productive of no small amount of heat and temper. My
concern is happily with facts not with theories, with the
past not with the present. I confess that personally I
like to feel my feet upon the ground, and facts furnish
1 A paper read at the Catholic Conference at Nottingham, 1S9S.
245
246 CHRISTIAN DEMOCRACY IN
undoubtedly the best corrective for mere theorising
which, at times, is apt to run away with all of us, and to
give rise either to unwarranted hopes or unnecessary
fears. In the belief that even " the dark ages " have their
useful lessons for us whose lot has been cast in these
times, I propose to lay before you briefly the teaching
of the Church of England in pre-Reformation days, as
to the relations which should exist between the classes
of every Christian community, and to illustrate by a few
examples the way in which the teaching was translated
into practice by our Catholic ancestors.
The Relation between Rich and Poor
There can be no doubt as to the nature of the teach-
ing of the English Church in regard to the relation which,
according to true Christian principles, should exist be-
tween the rich and the poor. The evidence appears clear
and unmistakeable enough in pre-Reformation popular
sermons and instructions, in formal pronouncements of
Bishops and Synods, and in books intended for the
particular teaching of clergy and laity in the necessary
duties of the Christian man. Whilst fully recognising as
a fact that " the poor must always be with us " — that in
the very nature of things there must ever be the class of
those who " have " and the class of those who " have not "
— our Catholic forefathers knew no such division and
distinction between the rich and the poor man as obtained
later on, when Protestant principles had asserted their
supremacy, and pauperism, as distinct from poverty, had
come to be recognised as an inevitable consequence of
the policy introduced with the new era. To the Christian
moralist, and even to the Catholic Englishman, whether
PRE-REFORMATION TIMES 247
secular or lay, in the fifteenth century, those who had
been blessed by God's providence with worldly wealth
were regarded as not so much the fortunate possessors
of personal riches, their own to do with what they listed
and upon which none but they had right or claim, as in
the light of trusted stewards of God's good gifts to man-
kind at large, for the right use and ministration of which
they were accountable to Him who gave them.
Thus, to take one instance: the proceeds of ecclesi-
astical benefices were recognised in the Constitutions of
Legates and Archbishops as being in fact as well as in
theory the eleemosynce, the spes pauperum — the alms and
the hope of the poor. Those ecclesiastics who consumed
the revenues of their cures on other than necessary and
fitting purposes were declared to be " defrauders of the
rights of God's poor" and "thieves of Christian alms
intended for them " ; whilst the English canonists and
legal professors who glossed these provisions of the
Church law gravely discussed the ways in which the
poor of a parish could vindicate their right — right, mind
— to a share in the ecclesiastical revenues of their
Church.
This "jus pauperum," which is set forth in such a
text-book of English law as Lyndwood's Provinciate, is
naturally put forth more clearly and forcibly in a work
intended for popular instruction, such as Dives et Pauper.
" To them that have the benefices and goods of Holy
Church," writes the author, " it belonged principally to
give alms and to have the cure of poor people." To him
who squanders the alms of the altar on luxury and use-
less show the poor man may justly point and say: " It
is ours that you so spend in pomp and vanity! . . . That
thou keepest for thyself of the altar passing the honest
248 CHRISTIAN DEMOCRACY IN
needful living, it is raveny, it is theft, it is sacrilege."
From the earliest days of English Christianity the care
of the helpless poor was regarded as an obligation in-
cumbent on all: and in 1342 Archbishop Stratford, deal-
ing with appropriations, or the assignment of ecclesiastical
revenue to the support of some religious house or college,
ordered that a portion of the tithe should always be set
apart for the relief of the poor, because, as Bishop Stubbs
has pointed out, in England from the days of King
Ethelred " a third part of the tithe " which belonged to
the Church was the acknowledged birthright of the
poorer members of Christ's flock.
That there was social inequality goes without saying,
for that is in the very constitution of human society, and
may indeed be said to be a very law of human nature.
In feudal times this obvious truth passed unquestioned
as the divine law of the universe, and with the over-
throw of the system in the thirteenth century there was
created a chasm between the upper and lower classes
which it was the interest of popular agitators and dema-
gogues to widen and deepen. But even then, in theory
at least, the claims of poverty were as fully recognised
as the duty of riches. The verses of Piers Plowman
and the Canterbury Tales, and even the words of " the
mad preacher," John Ball, are not more clear as to the
existence of the social difficulties of those days and the
claims put forward in the name of justice to common
humanity, than the language of the great and fearless
orator, Bishop Brunton, as to the religious obligations of
Christian riches. Again and again, in his sermons, this
great preacher reminds his hearers of the fact that poor
and rich have alike descended from a common stock,
and that no matter what their condition of life may be,
PRE-REFORMATION TIMES 249
all Christians are members of one body and are bound
one to the other by the duties of a common brotherhood.
Still more definite is the author of the book of popular
instruction, Dives et Pauper, above referred to. The
sympathy of the writer is with the poor, as indeed is
that of every ecclesiastical writer of the period. In fact
it is abundantly clear that the Church in England in
Catholic days, as a pia mater, was ever ready to open
wide her heart to aid and protect the poorer members
of Christ's mystical body. This is how Paiiper, in the
tract in question, states the Christian teaching as to the
duty of riches, and impresses upon his readers the view
that the owners of worldly wealth are but stewards of
the Lord: "All that the rich man hath, passing his
honest living after the degree of his dispensation, it is
other men's, not his, and he shall give full hard reckon-
ing thereof at the day of doom, when God shall say to
him: 'Yield account of your bailywick.' For rich men
and lords in this world are God's bailiffs and God's
reeves, to ordain for the poor folk and to sustain them."
Most strongly does the same writer insist that no pro-
perty gives any one the right to say " this is mine, and
that is thine ; for property so far as it is of God is of the
nature of governance and dispensation," by which those
who by God's Providence "have," act as His stewards
and as the dispensers of His gifts to such as " have not."
The words of the late Pope Leo XI 1 1 as to the Catholic
teaching, most accurately describe the practical doctrine
of the English pre-Reformation Church on this matter:
" The chiefest and most excellent rule for the right use
of money," he says, " rests on the principle that it is one
thing to have a right to the possession of money and
another to have the right to use money as one pleases.
2SO CHRISTIAN DEMOCRACY IN
... If the question be asked, How must one's posses-
sions be used? the Church replies without hesitation in
the words of the same holy Doctor (St. Thomas): Man
should not consider his outward possessions as his owny
but as common to all, so as to share them without difficulty
zuJien others are in need. When necessity has been sup-
plied and one's position fairly considered, it is a duty to
give to the indigent out of that which is over. It is a
duty, not of justice (except in extreme cases), but of
Christian charity . . . (and) to sum up what has been
said: Whoever has received from the Divine bounty a
large share of blessings . . . has received them for the
purpose of using them for the perfecting of his own
nature, and, at the same time, that he may employ
them, as the minister of God's Providence, for the
benefit of others."
The Condition of the Poor
There is no need to dwell upon this point, as there
can be no doubt as to the practical teaching of the
Church in Catholic England on the subject of the duties
of the " classes " to the " masses." I pass at once to the
actual state of the poor in the times which preceded
what a modern writer has fitly called " the Great Pil-
lage." It would be, of course, absurd to suggest that
poverty and much hardness of life did not exist in pre-
Reformation days; but what did not exist in Catholic
times was that peculiar product which sprung up so
plentifully amid the ruins of Catholic institutions over-
thrown by Tudor sovereigns — pauperism. Bishop
Stubbs, speaking of the condition of the poor in the
Middle Ages, declares that "there is very little evidence
FRE-REFORMATION TIMES 251
to show that our forefathers in the middle ranks of life-
desired to set any impassable boundary between class
and class. . . . Even the villein by learning a craft might
set his foot on the ladder of promotion. The most certain
way to rise was furnished by education and by the law
of the land. ' Every man or woman, of what state or
condition that he be, shall be free to set their son or
daughter to take learning at any school that pleaseth
him within the realm.' " Mr. Thorold Rogers, than whom
no one has ever worked more fully at the economic
history of England, and whom none can suspect of un-
due admiration of the Catholic Church, has left it on
record that during the century and a half which pre-
ceded the era of the Reformation the mass of English
labourers were thriving under their guilds and trade
unions, the peasants were gradually acquiring their lands
and becoming small freeholders, the artisans rising to
the position of small contractors and working with their
own hands at structures which their native genius and
experience had planned. In a word, according to this
high authority, the last years of undivided Catholic
England formed " the golden age " of the Englishman
who was ready and willing to work.
" In the age which I have attempted to describe,"
writes the same authority, " and in describing which I
have accumulated and condensed a vast amount of un-
questionable facts, the rate of production was small, the
conditions of health unsatisfactory, and the duration of
life short. But, on the whole, there were none of those
extremes of poverty and wealth which have excited the
astonishment of philanthropists, and are now exciting
the indignation of workmen. The age, it is true, had
its discontents, and these discontents were expressed
252 CHRISTIAN DEMOCRACY IN
forcibly and in a startling manner. But of poverty
which perishes unheeded, of a willingness to do honest
work and a lack of opportunity, there was little or none.
The essence of life in England during the days of the
Plantagenets and Tudors was that every one knew his
neighbour, and that every one was his brother's keeper."
The Reformation and the Poor
This period was put an end to, in Mr. Rogers' opinion,
by the confusion and social disorder consequent upon
the introduction of the new principles of the Reformers,
and the uprooting of the old Catholic institutions.
To relieve the Reformation from the odious charge
that it was responsible for the poor laws, many authors
have declared that not only did poverty largely exist
before, say, the dissolution of the monastic houses, but
that it would not long have been possible for the ancient
methods of relieving the distressed to cope with the in-
crease in their numbers under the changed circumstances
of the sixteenth century. It is, of course, possible to
deal with broad assertions only by the production of a
mass of details, which is, under the present circum-
stances, out of the question, or by assertions equally
broad: and I remark that there is no evidence of any
change of circumstances, so far as such changes appear
in history, which could not have been fully met by the
application of the old principles, and met in away which
would never have induced the degree of distressing
pauperism, which in fact was produced by the applica-
tion of the social principles adopted by the Reformers.
The underlying idea of these latter was property in the
sense of absolute ownership, in place of the older and
PRE-REFORMATION TIMES 253
more Christian idea of property in the sense of steward-
ship. In a word, the Reformation substituted the idea
of individualism as the basis of property for the idea of
Christian collectivism.
Most certainly the result was not calculated to im-
prove the condition of the poorer members of the com-
munity. It was they who were made to pay for the
Reformation, whilst their betters pocketed the price.
The well-to-do classes in the process became richer and
more prosperous, whilst the " masses " became, as an old
writer has it, " mere stark beggars." As a fact, more-
over, poverty became rampant, as we should have ex-
pected, immediately upon the great confiscations of land
and other property at the dissolution of the religious
houses. To take one example: Dr. Sharpe's knowledge
of the records of the city of London enables him to say
that: "the sudden closing of these institutions caused
the streets to be thronged with the sick and poor, and
the small parish churches to be so crowded with those
who had been accustomed to frequent the larger and
more commodious churches of the friars that there was
scarce room left for the parishioners themselves."
" The Devil," exclaims a preacher who lived through
all these troublous times — " the Devil cunningly turneth
things to his own way." " Examples of this we have
seen in our time more than I can have leisure to express
or to rehearse. In the Acts of Parliament that we have
had made in our days what godly preambles have gone
afore the same, even quasi oraculum Apollinis, as though
the things that follow had come from the counsel of the
highest in Heaven ; and yet the end hath been either to
destroy abbeys or chauntries or colleges, or such like, by
the which some have gotten much land, and have been
254 CHRISTIAN DEMOCRACY IN
made men of great possessions. But many an honest
poor man hath been undone by it, and an innumerable
multitude hath perished for default and lack of sub-
stance. And this misery hath long continued, and hath
not yet [1556] an end." Moreover, "all this commotion
and fray was made under pretence of a common profit
and common defence, but in very deed it was for private
and proper lucre."
In the sixty years which followed the overthrow of
the old system, it was necessary for Parliament to pass
no fewer than twelve Acts dealing with the relief of
distress, the necessity for which, Thorold Rogers says,
" can be traced distinctly back to the crimes of rulers
and agents." I need not characterise the spirit which is
manifested in these Acts, where poverty and crime are
treated as indistinguishable; it was not the spirit of old
Catholic days, but it was the spirit of " Protestant indi-
vidualism " carried into the sphere of social economy.
Not the Good but the Goods of the Church
The fact is, as we are now beginning to find out, the
change of religion in England was not effected so much
by those who hungered and thirsted after purity of
doctrine and simplicity of worship," who hated iniquity
and what they held to be superstition, as by those who
were on the look-out to better their own interests in a
worldly point of view, and who saw in the overthrow of
the old ecclesiastical system their golden opportunity.
These " new men " looked not so much to the " good "
as to the " goods " of the Church, and desired more
the conversio rerum than any conversio morum. What
Jansens long ago showed to be the case in Germany,
PRE-REFORMATION TIMES 255
and what Mr. Phillipson and M. Hanotaux declare to
be certainly true of France, is hardly less clear in regard
to England, when the matter is gone into — namely, that
the Reformation was primarily a social and economic
revolution, the true meaning of which was in the event
successfully disguised under the cloak of religion with
the assistance of a few earnest and possibly honest
fanatics.
It is, to say the least, strange that the religious inno-
vations synchronised so exactly with ruthless and whole-
sale confiscations of the old Catholic benefactions for
the poor, and with the appropriation of funds intended
by the donors for their benefit, to purposes other than
the relief of distress. Putting aside the dissolution of
the religious corporations, the destruction of the chaun-
tries, the wholly unjustifiable confiscation of the pro-
perty of the guilds, the heartless seizure of hospitals and
almshouses, the substitution of the well-to-do for the
poor as the recipients of the benefits coming from the
foundation funds of schools and colleges, even the intro-
duction of married clergy whose wives and children had
to be supported on the portion of the ecclesiastical bene-
fices intended for the relief of poverty, and much more
of the same kind, are all so many indications of the new
spirit of Individualism, which produced the great social
revolution commonly known as the Protestant Reforma-
tion. It was a revolution indeed, but a revolution not in
the ordinary sense. It was a rising, not of people
against their rulers, nor of those in hunger and distress
against the well-to-do, but it was in truth the rising of
the rich against the poor, the violent seizure by the new
men in power of the funds and property which genera-
tions of benefactors had intended for the relief of the
256 CHRISTIAN DEMOCRACY IN
needy, or by educational and other endowments to assist
the poor man to rise in the social scale.
Confiscation of Guilds
It is, of course, impossible, within the narrow limits of
this brief paper to go as deeply into the subject as it
deserves. Fortunately the facts lie on the surface of the
history of the sixteenth century, and whatever desire
may have existed to cover them up, now that the
sources of authentic information are open to all, they
can no longer be denied. I will content myself here
with a brief reference to the confiscation of the chaun-
tries and guilds which took place, as all know, in the
first year of King Edward VI, and I shall endeavour to
illustrate what I have to say by examples taken mainly
from this county of Nottingham.
It may at first sight, perhaps, not appear very obvious
what the question of the chauntries has to do with the
present subject. But this is simply because the purpose
for which these adjuncts to parish churches existed has
not been understood. We have been taught to believe
that a " chauntry " only meant a place (chapel or other
locality) where Masses were offered for the repose of the
soul of the donor, and other specified benefactors. No
doubt there were such chauntries existing, but to imagine
that they were the rule is wholly to mistake the purpose
of such foundations. Speaking broadly, the chauntry
priest was the assistant priest, or, as we should nowa-
days say, curate of the parish, who was supported by the
foundation funds of the benefactors for that purpose,
and even not infrequently by the contributions of the
inhabitants. For the most part their raison d'etre was
PRE-REFORMATION TIMES 257
to look after the poor of the parish, to visit the sick, and
to assist in the functions of the parish church. More-
over, connected with these chauntries were very com-
monly what were called "obits," which were not, as we
have been asked to believe, mere money payments to the
priest for anniversary services; but were for the most
part money left quite as much for annual alms to the
poor as for the celebration of the anniversary services.
Let us take a few examples. In this city of Nottingham
there were two chauntries connected with the parish
church of St. Mary, that of Our Lady and that called
Amyas Chauntry. The former, we are told, was founded
" to maintain the services and to be an aid to the vicar,
and partly to succour the poor," the latter to assist in
" God's service," and to pray for William Amyas, the
founder. When the commissioners in the first year of
Edward VI came to inquire into the possessions of these
chauntries, they were asked to note that in this parish
there were " 1,400 houseling people, and that the vicar
there had no other priests to help but the above two
chauntry priests." I need not say that they were not
spared on this account, for within two years we find the
property upon which these two priests were supported
had been sold to two speculators in such parcels of land
— John Howe and John Broxholme.
Then again, in the parish of St. Nicholas, we find
from the returns that the members of the Guild of the
Virgin contributed to the support of a priest. In the
parish there were more than 200 houseling people, and
as the parish living was very poor, there was no other
priest to look after them but this one, John Chester, who
was paid by the Guild. The King's officials, however,
did not hesitate to confiscate the properly on this
S
258 CHRISTIAN DEMOCRACY IN
account. It is useless to multiply instances of this kind,
some hundreds of which might be given in the county
of Nottingham alone. I will, however, take one or two
examples of " obits " in this part of the world : In the
parish of South Wheatley there were parish lands let
out to farm which produced eighteenpence a year, say
from £1 to £1 4X of our money. Of this sum one
shilling was for the poor and sixpence for church lights,
that is two-thirds or, say, 16s. of our money was for the
relief of the distressed. So in the parish of Tuxford
the church "obit" lands produced .£1 $s. 4^/., or more
than £16 a year, of which 16s. /\d. was for the poor and
gs. for the church expenses. It is almost unnecessary to
add that the Crown took the whole sum intended for the
poor, as well as that for the support of the ecclesiastical
services. Neither can we hold, I fear, that the robbery
of the poor was accidental and unpremeditated. I know
that it has been frequently asserted that although grave
injury was undoubtedly done to the poor and needy in
this way, it was altogether inevitable, since the money
thus intended for them was so inextricably bound up
with property to which religious obligations (now de-
clared to be superstitious and illegal) were attached, that
the whole passed together into the royal exchequer. I
confess that I should like to consider that this spoliation
of the sick and needy by the Crown of England was
accidental and unpremeditated, but there are the hard
facts which cannot be got over. The documents prove
unmistakeably that the attention of the officials was
drawn to the claims of the poor, and that in every such
case these claims were disregarded, and a plain intima-
tion is given that the Crown intended to take even the
pittance of the poor.
PRE-REFORMATION TIMES 259
The Guilds
I pass to the question of the Guilds. They were the
benefit societies and provident associations of the Middle
Ages. They undertook towards their members the duties
now frequently performed by burial clubs, by hospitals,
by almshouses, and by guardians of the poor. " It is
quite certain that town and country guilds obviated
pauperism in the Middle Ages," writes Mr. Thorold
Rogers. "They assisted in steadying the price of labour,
and formed a permanent centre for those associations
which fulfilled the function that in more recent times
trade unions have striven to satisfy." In these days, I
fancy, no one would care to defend the abolition of
these friendly and charitable societies and to justify the
confiscation of their corporate property, which may be
taken as for the most part representing the accumulated
savings of the working classes. Moreover, in putting an
end to the Guild system, the Reformers did a far greater
injury than can be gauged by the amount of the money
seized. A large proportion of the revenues of these
societies was derived from the entrance fees and annual
subscriptions of the existing members, and in dissolving
them the State swept away the organisation by which
these voluntary subscriptions were raised. In this way
far more harm was done to the interests of the poor,
sick, and aged, and in fact to the body politic at large,
than was caused by the mere loss of their hard-earned
savings.
I have here merely indicated some lines of inquiry,
especially on the ecclesiastical side, into matters of fact
which, if followed out, may help us to come to some
sound knowledge of the principles which guided our
260 DEMOCRACY IN PRE-REFORMATION TIMES
Catholic forefathers in these matters, and which I think
may be safely called the principles of Christian Demo-
cracy, or Christian Collectivism. That Christian Demo-
cracy was, I think, manifested before the Reformation in
this — that the community, parishes, trades, etc., did in
fact show full appreciation of the principles of self-help
and mutual assistance. Self-help and self-government
showed themselves in popular efforts to carry out common
objects as far as possible, and to secure the common
good. The community possessed common interests in
numberless things, had common lands, common cattle,
and other stock : and, in a word, the tendency was to
create a system of common property which owed its
existence largely to the people themselves. Since the
Reformation we need only look at the principles demon-
strated by the laws : we see for generations that the bent
of legislation was to do away with what was common —
the principle of Tudor enclosure carried out to the fullest
extent. It is evident that the idea of the " common " is
opposed utterly to the idea of absolute property, whilst
the root idea of Christian Democracy is that the social
order is founded upon the principle, which is also the
Christian idea, that property is of the nature of a trust
and stewardship, rather than that of absolute, individual
possession. I need not point out how the firm apprehen-
sion of this principle must influence our judgment on
many of the schemes and practical proposals of the day.
IX
THE LAYMAN IN THE PRE-
REFORMATION PARISH1
HISTORY relates that some years ago a Scotch
Presbyterian, with serious religious difficulties and
doubts, came for advice to a then well-known Catholic
priest. In the course of the interview he asked to be in-
formed as to what his position would be should the result
of his inquiries lead him to join the Church. " Among
us," he said, " I know exactly what the status and rights of
the laity are, and I should like to know what is the exact
position of a layman in the Church of Rome." " Your
question," replied the priest, " is easily answered. The
position of a layman in the Church of Rome is twofold:
he kneels before the altar — that's one position; and he
sits before the pulpit — and that 's the other; and there
is no other possible position." This brief statement,
which illustrates one view of the question under discus-
sion, cannot, of course, be taken as furnishing an adequate
or accurate definition of the status of the Catholic lay-
man of the present day. To begin with : he is always
being invited to assume another, and, as things go, a most
important position in regard to the Church, namely, that
of putting his hand into his pocket for the money neces-
sary to meet the thousand and one imperative wants
1 A paper read at the Catholic Conference at Stockport, 1899.
261
262 THE LAYMAN IN THE
incidental to the present circumstances of Catholics in
England.
I am not called upon, however, to discuss the main
question, having been requested merely to illustrate, as
far as it is possible in a brief paper, the functions of the
laity in the mediaeval parish. I am dealing with facts
as I read them in pre-Reformation documents, and am
not concerned to expose or advocate this or that theory,
or suggest this or that solution of difficulties experienced
at the present day. Whilst fully believing that the past
has its many useful and suggestive lessons for us to-day,
I am not such a laudator temporis acti as to suppose that
we ought to imitate, or that we could imitate successfully,
all we find flourishing in mediaeval Catholic England.
At the outset, I may remark that what strikes the ob-
server most forcibly in dealing with the records of
parochial life in pre-Reformation times, is the way in
which priest and people are linked together as one
united whole in Church duties. In these days the strong
sense of corporate responsibility in the working of a
parish, and the well-being of a parochial district with
which our Catholic forefathers were imbued, does not
exist. I am not concerned with the why and the where-
fore, but with the fact, and of this there can be no doubt.
The priest in modern times has, for the most part, to
worry through his many difficulties in his own way and
without much assistance from his flock as a body. No
doubt, in the main, he has to look to them for the money
with which he carries out his schemes, but money is not
everything, and the real responsibility for all lies upon
the priest himself, and upon the priest alone. All church
building and beautifying, the providing of vestments and
sacred plate, the furnishing of altars, the erection of
PRE-REFORMATION PARISH 263
statues and pictures and painted glass, the establishment
and maintenance of schools, and the payment of debts
incurred in the many works and foundations necessary
for the due working of the district, have all to be initiated,
superintended, and maintained by the energy of the
priest himself. There are, it is true, generally many
volunteer labourers — all praise to them — who, for the
love of God and His Church, do their best to second the
efforts of their pastor. But then they are volunteers, and
herein mainly lies the contrast between the old Catholic
times and our own. To-day, at best, a priest can enlist
the sympathies and practical support of but a small
fraction of his flock in their parish ; the rest, and by far
the greater number, take little or no part in the work —
regard it, even if they do not speak of it, as his parish,
his business, not theirs. It may be, and probably is, the
case, that most of these do not neglect the plain Christian
duty of supporting their pastors and their religion, and
that many actively co-operate in charitable works in
other places, and are even exemplary and regular mem-
bers of flourishing sodalities or young men's societies
attached to other churches ; but so far as their own parish
is concerned, it profits little or nothing by their support,
or work, or sympathy.
In pre-Reformation days such a state of things was
unknown and altogether impossible. The parish was
then an ever-present reality ; the taking part in its affairs
was regarded as a duty incumbent on all, and so far as we
may judge by the somewhat scanty records which have
come down to us, the duty was well fulfilled in practice.
No doubt it- is partly true that in these days there are
no parishes strictly so-called. Yet the canonical defini-
tion of an ecclesiastical district has little to do with the
264 THE LAYMAN IN THE
matter: the need of co-operation is to-day clearly as
great, if not greater than in olden times, and if the law
as to the hearing of Mass, and the fulfilling of other
obligations in the church of the district, be now relaxed,
that ought not to be construed into freeing the parish-
ioner from all ties of fellowship contracted by the mere
fact of dwelling in a particular district, or all duties con-
nected with it. At any rate, whilst, no doubt, the stricter
enforcing of parochial rights in mediaeval times tended
to impress upon men's minds the other obligations of a
parishioner, there does not, in fact, appear to have been
much need to remind them of those common duties.
Everything seems to have been ordinated as far as pos-
sible to interest and enlist the practical sympathies of
all in the affairs of their parish. There was no question
of mere voluntary effort on the part of individuals, but
there is on all hands proof of the well-understood and
well-fulfilled duty of all. Let me illustrate one or two
characteristic features of pre-Reformation parochial life.
Our main sources of information are the various
churchwardens' accounts and the inventories of eccle-
siastical parish plate and furniture which have survived
" the great pillage." From a general survey of the
ground, the observer must at once be struck with the
similarity of the evidence afforded by all these docu-
ments. They one and all so plainly tell the same tale,
that it is fair to conclude that the picture of parochial
life presented by these precious records that have sur-
vived the pillage of the sixteenth century and the neg-
lect of subsequent generations, is practically true of
every parish in Catholic England. What they prove to
us, then, above all else is, that the people at large took
a personal and intelligent interest in building, beautify-
PRE-REFORMATION PARISH 265
ing, and supporting their parish churches, and that the
churches were, in a way that seems strange to us now,
their churches — their very life may be said to be centred
in them, and they, the people, quite as much as their
priests, were intimately concerned in their working and
management. Whatever had to be done to or for God's
Mouse, or in the parochial district of which it was the
centre, was the common work of priest and people alike.
It can, in absolute truth, be described as a " family con-
cern," settled and carried out by the parson and his
flock — the father and his children. Moreover, in those
more simple times, traditions — family or parochial tra-
ditions— were sacred inheritances, and each piece of
furniture and plate, every vestment and hanging of every
parish church, had a history of its own, which was known
to all through the publication on feast days and holi-
days of the names of these benefactors to the common
good.
We will come to specific instances presently; but just
let us fully understand how completely our Catholic
forefathers were regarded, and regarded themselves, as
the proud possessors of their various parish churches.
Bishop Hobhouse, in an interesting preface to one of the
Somerset Record Society publications, describes the
parish thus: "It was the community of the township
organised for Church purposes and subject to Church
discipline, with a constitution which recognised the
rights of the whole body as an aggregate, and the right
of every adult member, whether man or woman, to ad-
vice in self-government ; but, at the same time, kept the
self-governing community under a system of inspection
and restraint by a central authority outside the parish
boundaries."
266 THE LAYMAN IN THE
As Dr. Jessopp has well pointed out,1 the self-govern-
ment of a Catholic pre-Reformation parish was most
marked. The community had its own deliberative and
administrative assembly — the parish meeting. It elected
or appointed its own officers — sometimes men, some-
times women — who had well-defined duties, and were
paid for services out of funds provided by the par-
ishioners. Such, for instance, were the parish clerk, the
gravedigger, watchman, keeper, and carrier of the parish
processional cross. These were in no sense either the
nominees or paid servants of the rector. They had
duties which were directed, no doubt, to him, but they
were paid by the parishioners themselves, and were " re-
movable, when removable at all," by the rural dean or
archdeacon at their petition.
" The president or chairman of the church council or
parish meeting," writes Dr. Jessopp, " was the rector of
the parish, or his deputy ; but he was by no means a
' lord over God's heritage.' There is no evidence — but
quite the contrary — to show that he initiated to any
great extent the subjects of debate, and the income
raised for parish purposes, which not infrequently was
considerable, was not under his control, nor did it pass
through his hands." The trustees of parish property
were the churchwardens. They, generally two in num-
ber, were elected annually, and were always regarded in
fact, as well as in theory, as the responsible represent-
atives of the parish. Many instances could be given
where these wardens, either from parochial funds or
specific bequests they were called on to administer for
the common benefit, found the stipends for additional
curates to work the parish, paid the fees for obits and
1 Nineteenth Century, January, 1898, p. 5.
PRE-REFORMATION PARISH 267
other anniversary services to the parish priests and other
ministers, or for clerical or lay assistance in the celebra-
tions of some more solemn festivals. In some cases I
have found them arranging the hours for the various
daily Masses, which, in their opinion, would best suit the
convenience of the people.
The parish possessions were considerable, and com-
prised all kinds of property — lands, houses, flocks and
herds, cows, and even hives of bees. These were what
may be termed the capital of the parish, which was con-
stantly being added to by the generosity of generations
of pious benefactors. Then, over and besides the chan-
cel, which was the freehold of the parson, the body of
the church and other buildings, together with the church-
yard and its enclosure, and generally, if not always, the
common church house, were then under the special and
absolute control of the people's wardens. Then, if the
law forced the parish to find fitting and suitable orna-
ments and vestments, it equally gave them the control
of the ecclesiastical furniture, etc. of the church. Their
chosen representatives were the guardians of the jewels
and plate, of the ornaments and hangings, of the vest-
ments and tapestries, which were regarded, as in very
truth they were, as the common property of every soul
in the particular village or district in which the church
was situated. It is no exaggeration to say that the par-
ish church was in Catholic times the care and business
of all. Its welfare was the concern of the people at large,
and it took its natural place in their daily lives. Was
there, say, building to be done, repairs to be effected, a
new peal of bells to be procured, organs to be mended,
new plate to be bought, and the like, it was the parish
as a corporate body that decided the matter, arranged
268 THE LAYMAN IN THE
the details, and provided for the payment. At times, let
us say when a new vestment was in question, the whole
parish might be called to sit in council at the church
house on this matter of common interest, and discuss
the cost, the stuff, and the make.
The parish wardens had their duties also towards their
poorer brethren in the district. I have come across more
than one instance of their being the guardians of a com-
mon chest, out of which temporary loans could be ob-
tained by needy parishioners to enable them to tide over
pressing difficulties. These loans were secured by pledges
and the additional surety of other parishioners. No in-
terest, however, was charged for the use of the money,
and in cases where the pledge had to be sold to recover
the original sum, anything over and above was returned
to the borrower. In other ways, too, the poorer par-
ishioners were assisted by the corporate property of the
parish. The stock managed by the wardens " were," says
one of the early English reformers, " in some towns {i.e.,
townships and villages) six, some eight, and some a
dozen kine, given unto the stock, for the relief of the
poor, and used in some such wise that the poor ' cot-
tingers,' which could make any provision for fodder, had
the milk for a very small hire; and then, the number of
the stock reserved [that is, of course, the original num-
ber being maintained], all manner of vailes [or profits],
besides both the hire of the milk and the prices of the
young veals and old fat wares, was disposed to the re-
lief of the poor." '
The functions and duties of the mediaeval par-
ishioners were determined by law and custom. By law,
according to the statute of Archbishop Peckham in
1 Lever, Sermon before the King, 1550 (Arber's reprint, p. 82 j.
PRE-REFORMATION PARISH 269
1280/ which remained in force till the change of religion,
the parish was bound to find, broadly speaking, all that
pertained to the services — such as vestments, chalice,
processional cross, the paschal candle, etc. — and to keep
the fabric and ornaments of the church proper, exclusive
of the chancel. In 1305 Archbishop Winchelsey some-
what enlarged the scope of the parish duties, and the
great canonist, Lyndwood, explains that, very frequently,
especially in London churches, the parishioners, through
their wardens, kept even the chancels in repair, and, in
fact, found everything for the services, except the two
Mass candles which the priest provides.
To take some examples: first, of the way in which,
according to the custom of our Catholic forefathers, the
memory of benefactions to the parish was kept alive.
The inventory of the parish church of Cranbrook, made
in 1509, shows that the particulars of all gifts and donors
were regularly noted down, in order that they might
periodically be published and remembered. The presents
vary greatly in value, and nothing is too small, appar-
ently, to be noted. Thus we have a monstrance of silver-
gilt, which the wardens value at £20, " of Sir Robert
Egelyonby's gift"; and the list goes on to say: "This
Sir Robert was John Roberts' priest thirty years, and he
never had other service or benefice, and the said John
Roberts was father to Walter Roberts, Esquire." Again,
John Hindeley "gave three copes of purple velvet, whereof
one was of velvet upon velvet with images broidered,"
and, adds the inventory for a perpetual memory, " He
is grandfather of Gervase Hindeley, of Cushorn, and
Thomas, of Cranbrook Street." Or again, to take one
more instance from the same, it is recorded that the
1 Wilkins, ii, 49.
270 THE LAYMAN IN THE
" two long candlesticks before Our Lady's altar, fronted
with lions and a towel on the rood of Our Lady's chan-
cel," had been given by "old Moder Hopper." So, too,
in the case of St. Dunstan's, Canterbury, we have a won-
derful list of furniture with the names of the donors set
out. The best chalice, for instance, was the gift of one
" Harry Boll." The two great latten candlesticks were
a present from John Philpot, and " a kercher for Our
Lady and a chapplet and pordryd cap for her son " came
from Margery Roper.
I have said that the memory of these gifts was kept
alive by the " bede-roll," or list of people for whom the
parish was bound to pray, published periodically by the
parson. Thus, to take one instance: At Leverton, in the
county of Lincoln, the parson, Sir John Wright, pre-
sented the church with a suit of red purple vestments,
" for the which," says a note in the churchwardens'
accounts, " you shall all specially pray for the souls of
William Wright and Elizabeth his wife " [the father and
mother of the donor] and other relations, " as well them
that be alive as them that be departed to the mercy of
God, for whose lives and souls " these vestments are
given "to the honour of God, His most blessed mother,
Our Lady Saint Mary, and all His saints in Heaven, and
the blessed matron St. Helen, his patron, to be used at
such principal feasts and times as it shall please the
curates so long as they shall last." l
In this way the names of benefactors and the memory
of their good deeds was ever kept alive in the minds of
those who benefited by their gifts. The parish treasury
was not looked on as so much stock, the accumulation
of years, of haphazard donations without definite history
1 ArchaoL, xli, 355.
l'KE-REFORMATION PARISH 271
or purpose ; but every article, vestment, banner, hanging,
chalice, etc., called up some affectionate memory both of
the living and the dead. On high day and feast day,
when all that was best and richest in the parochial
treasury was brought forth to deck the walls and statues
and altars, the display of parish ornaments recalled to
the minds of the people assembled within its walls to
worship God, the memory of good deeds done by genera-
tions of neighbours for the decoration of their sanctuary.
"The immense treasures in the churches," writes Dr.
Jessopp, " were the joy and boast of every man and
woman and child in England, who, day by day, and
week by week, assembled to worship in the old houses
of God which they and their fathers had built, and whose
every vestment and chalice, and candlestick and banner,
organ and bells, and pictures and images, and altar and
shrine they look upon as their own, and part of their
birthright." '
It might reasonably be supposed that this was true
only of the greater churches ; but this is not so. What
strikes one so much in these parish accounts of bygone
days is the richness of even small, out-of-the-way village
churches. Where we would naturally be inclined to look
for poverty and meanness, there is evidence to the con-
trary. To take an example or two. Morebath is a small,
uplandish, out-of-the-way parish of little importance on
the borders of Exmoor; the population, for the most
part, had to spend their energies in daily labour to secure
the bare necessities of life, and riches, at any rate, could
never have been abundant. Morebath may consequently
be taken as a fair sample of an obscure and poor village.
For this hamlet we possess full accounts from the year
1 Nineteenth Century, March, 1898, p. 433.
272 THE LAYMAN IN THE
1530, and we find at this time, and in this very poor, out-
of-the-way place, there were no less than eight separate
accounts kept of money intended for the support of
different altars of devotions. For example, we have the
" Stores " of the Chapels of Our Lady and St. George,
etc., and the guilds of the young men and maidens of the
parish. All these were kept and managed by the lay-
elected officials of the societies — confraternities, I sup-
pose we should call them — and to their credit are entered
numerous gifts of money and specific gifts of value of
kind, such as cows, and swarms of bees, etc. Most of
them had their little capital funds invested in cattle and
sheep, the rent of which proved a considerable part of
their revenues. In a word, these accounts furnish abund-
ant and unmistakeable evidence of the active and in-
telligent interest in the duty of supporting and adorning
their church on the part of these simple country folk at
large. What is true of this is true of every other similar
account to a greater or less degree, and all these accounts
show unmistakeably that the entire management of these
parish funds was in the hands of the people.
Voluntary rates to clear off obligations contracted for
the benefit of the community — such as the purchase of
bells, the repair of the fabric, and even for the making of
roads and bridges — were raised by the wardens. Collec-
tions for Peter's pence, for the support of the parish
clerk, and for every variety of church and local purpose
are recorded, and the spirit of self-help is manifested on
every page of these accounts. To keep to Morebath. In
1528 a complete set of black vestments was purchased at
a cost — considerable in those days — of £6 $s.s and to
help in the common work, the vicar gave up certain tithes
in wool he had been in the habit of receiving. These
PRE-REFORMATION PARISH 273
vestments, by the way, were only finished and paid for
in 1547, just before the changes under Edward VI ren-
dered them useless. In 1538 the parish made a voluntary
rate to purchase a new cope, and the general collections
for this purpose produced some £3 6s. Sd. In 1534 the
silver chalice was stolen^and at once, we are told, "ye
yong men and maydens of ye parysshe dru themselves
together, and at ther gyfts and provysyon they boughr
in another chalice without any charge of the parish."
Sums of money, big and small, specific gifts in kind, the
stuff or ornaments needed for vestments, were appar-
ently always forthcoming when needed. Thus, at one
time a new cope is suggested, and Anne Tymwell, of
Hayne, gave the churchwardens her " gown and her
ring "; Joan Tymwell, a cloak and a girdle; and Richard
Norman, " seven sheep and three shillings and fourpence
in money," towards the cost.
These examples could be multiplied to any extent,
but the above will be sufficient to show the popular
working of a mediaeval parish. The same story of local
government, popular interest, and ready self-help, as well
as an unmistakeable spirit of affection for the parish
church as theirs, is manifested by the people in every
account we possess. Every adult of both sexes had a
voice in the system, and the parson was little more in
this regard than chairman of the village meetings, and,
as I have more than once seen him described, " chief
parishioner." In the management of the fabric, the ser-
vice, and all things necessary for the due performance
of these, the people were not only called upon to pay,
but it is clear the diocesan authorities evidently left to
the parish a wise discretion. No doubt the higher eccle-
siastical officials could interfere in theory; but in prac-
T
274 THE LAYMAN IN THE
tice interference was rare. It would not be to my present
purpose to describe the various methods employed to
replenish the parochial exchequer. There was apparently
seldom much difficulty in finding the necessary money,
and it will be of interest to see how it was expended, by
some further examples.
The church accounts of Leverton (six miles from
Boston) have been printed in the Archceologia, and those
that are interested in this subject may conveniently turn
to them as illustrating it. The church, until the past
three hundred years of neglect has disfigured it, must
have presented a very beautiful appearance, when decked
for a festival, in the hangings and ornaments which
generations of the inhabitants had lovingly gathered
within its walls. When first the accounts were opened
in 1492, the parish was beginning to be interested — as,
by the way, so many parishes were at this period — in
bells. The people evidently made a great effort to get a
new peal, and they contributed generously. The rector
headed the list with ten shillings and sixpence, which was
afterwards paid for him by a friend ; but what I would re-
mark is that the whole arrangement for the purchase and
hanging of the bells was in the hands of the people's
representatives, the churchwardens. They bought timber
for the framework, and hired a carpenter to make it.
They hired a cart to bring over the great bell from the
neighbouring parish where it had been cast, and there
are notes of the cost of the team of horses and other
items of expense, not forgetting a penny for the toll of
a bridge. We may judge, however, that the work was
not altogether a success, as in 1498 the two wardens
made a " move " to " the gathering of the township in
the kirk," at which they gathered £4 13s. lod. They
PRE-REFORMATION PARISH 275
forthwith set about the building of a new steeple, and
ordered another peal of bells. The stone was given to
them, but they had to see to the quarrying of it. Trees
were bought in a neighbouring wood, and by direction
of the wardens, were felled and cut into beams and boards,
or fashioned roughly for scaffolding.
As the sixteenth century progressed, a great deal of
building and repair was undertaken by the parish au-
thorities. In 1503 the wardens ordered a new bell, and
went over to Boston to see it " shott." The same year
they took in hand the making of a new font, and a
deputation was sent over to Frieston, about three miles
from Leverton, to inspect and pass the work. The lead
for the lining of the font was procured in pigs, and cast
into a mould on the spot by a plumber brought over for
the purpose. In 15 17 extensive repairs were undertaken
in the north aisle which necessitated much shoring up
• of the walls. Two years later, on the completion of the
works, the church and churchyard were consecrated, the
Bishop's fees, amounting to £3, being paid out of the
public purse. In 1526 the rood-loft was decorated, and
the niches filled with images. In that year one of the
parishioners, William Prankish, died, and left a legacy
to the churchwardens for the purpose of procuring
alabaster statues to fill the vacant spaces. The wardens
hired a man, called sometimes the " alabastre man," and
sometimes " Robert Brook, the carver," and, in earnest
for the payment, at the conclusion gave him a shilling.
At the same time a collection was made for the support
of the artist during his stay. Some of the parishioners
gave money, but most of them apparently contributed
" cheese."
I wish I had time to quote more fully from these in-
276 THE LAYMAN IN THE
teresting and instructive accounts. The serious building
operations continued up to the very eve of the religious
changes. They by no means satisfied the energies of the
parish officials. If books required binding, a travelling
workman was engaged on the job, and the leather, thread,
wax, and other materials for the mystery of bookbinding
were purchased for his use. Sometimes extra was paid
to his wife for the stitching of leaves and covers, and the
workmen were apparently lodged by one or other of the
people, and this was accounted as their contribution to
the common work. Then there were vestments and sur-
plices and other linen bought, mended, and washed, and
the very marks set upon the linen cloths are put into the
accounts. So entirely was the whole regarded as the
work of the people, that, just as we have seen that the
parish paid for the consecration of their parish church
and graveyard, so do we find the wardens assigning a..
fee to their own vicar for blessing the altar linen and
new vestments, and entering the names of benefactors
on the parish bede-roll.
I have said that the wardens often appear as arranging
more than the ordinary material details. Thus, at Hen-
ley-on-Thames they ordained that the Chaplain of Our
Lady's altar should say Mass every day at six o'clock,
and the chauntry priest of St. Catherine's at eight o'clock,
as the hours most convenient for the majority of the
people. At St. Mary's, Dover, the wardens paid the
parson a stipend for regularly reading the bede-roll, and
charged a fee for inserting any name upon it. They
paid deacons, sub-deacons, clerks, and singing men and
children on great days to add solemnity to the church
festivals. Two priests were generally paid at Easter to
help to shrive, and one year there were payments to
PRE-REFORMATION PARISH 277
three priests " to help to shrive and to minister at
Maundy Thursday, Easter Even, and Easter Day." The
same year the parish paid for " a breakfast for such
clerks as took pain to maintain God's service on the
holidays"; and on Palm Sunday they expended three-
pence on "bread and wine to the readers of the Pas-
sion."
" How curious a state of things is revealed to us in
these documents! " says a writer who had been engaged
over these churchwardens' accounts. "We have been
taught to regard our mediaeval forefathers as a terribly
priest-ridden people, yet nothing of all this, but quite
the contrary, appears in all these parish papers."
What is seen so clearly in the parish accounts as to
the powers exercised by the wardens in the management
of the church property receives additional confirmation —
were that at all necessary — from the pre-Reformation
wills. We have only to turn over the leaves of the col-
lection of Yorkshire wills, published by the Surtees
Society, to see how well understood was the intimate
'connection between the parishioners and the parish
church; how people loved to leave some article of value
to the place where they had worshipped, in order to per-
petuate their memory; and how to the wardens was
entrusted the care of these bequests. Even where the
names of the popular representatives are not inserted in
the wills themselves, they, as the legal trustees for the
common church property, and not the parson of the
parish, trouble themselves in the matter. Did time allow,
I might quote some curious illustrations of the gifts and
bequests thus made for the common good. I wonder
what the authorities of some of our modern parish
churches would think of a bequest of dresses and gowns
278 THE LAYMAN IN PRE-REFORMATION PARISH
to various images to make vestments, or even " 20 marks
to buy 20 bullocks to find a priest to pray for my soul
and the soul of my wife "? Yet in these interesting wills
there are numerous examples of such donations, which
to my mind appear to indicate, more than any other
way can, the affection of our Catholic forefathers for
their religion, and the real practical hold the Faith had
over them. The local church was to them a living
reality: it was theirs, and all it contained, in an absolute
and sometimes almost a startling way. One instance
comes to my mind. In the parish of Yatton, in Somer-
set, on the eve of the Reformation — about 1520, say — a
difficulty arose as to the repair of certain sluices to keep
back the winter floods. To make a long story short, in
the end the parish were ordered to make good the defect.
It meant money, and the wardens' accounts show that
they had been spending generously on the church. It
was consequently decided that to raise the necessary
cash they should sell a piece of silver church plate, which
had been purchased some years before by the common
contributions of the faithful. " How monstrous!" I can
hear some people say. Possibly: I am not going to try
and defend what they did; but the instance furnishes
me with a supreme example of the way in which the
people of a mediaeval parish regarded the property of
God's house as their own.
X
ST. GREGORY THE GREAT AND
ENGLAND1
THE year of our Lord 604 is a date memorable in
the history of the Church. On the 12th of March
in that year, aged sixty-five, and in the fourteenth year
of his Pontificate, died St. Gregory the Great, perhaps
the most illustrious of the long line of Popes who have
sat in Peter's Chair and governed the Church of Christ
during the nineteen centuries of its existence. To Eng-
lishmen of any form of religious belief, the thirteenth
centenary of that event, celebrated this year, should not
be without interest. As early as A.D. 747, the Council of
Clovesho ordered that the 12th of March, the feast of
St. Gregory, should ever be kept solemnly, as well as
that of the burial of St. " Augustine, Archbishop and
Confessor, who was sent to the English nation by the
said Pope and our Father Gregory to bring them the
certainty of the Faith, the Sacrament of Baptism, and
the knowledge of the heavenly kingdom." 2 For many
hundreds of years our forefathers were mindful of all
they owed, in the way of religion and of civilisation, to
this great Pontiff, and they loved to call him their
' Published in the Dublin Review, April, 1904.
- Haddan and Stubbs, Councils and Eccles. docls., iii, 368.
279
28o ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
"master," their "teacher," the "preacher of their faith,"
their " doctor," their " father," and their " apostle." " By
his labours," writes Bede in his Ecclesiastical History of
the English People, " he brought our race, that is, the
English people, from out of the power of Satan to the
faith of Christ, (and so) we rightly can and must call
him our Apostle." 1 " Gregory the holy Pope, the Apostle
of the English nation," writes the author of the Anglo-
Saxon homily for his feast, " on this present day, after
manifold labours and holy studies, happily ascended to
God's kingdom. He is rightly the Apostle of the Eng-
lish nation, for through his counsel and mission he with-
drew us from the worship of the devil, and turned us to
God."2
To us Catholics especially, who, after the lapse of
thirteen centuries, still look to Rome and the Pope for
guidance in the Faith which our Saxon ancestors received
from Gregory, the celebration of this centenary should
be something more than a bare commemoration of an
interesting event which happened many long centuries
ago. It should renew within us those deep feelings of
grateful devotion and loyalty to the See of Peter felt
and expressed by the English people for generations
after the coming of the first Roman missionaries to our
shores. " No other nation in the Christian world can
claim a Pope for its Apostle," was the constant boast of
the English people in Catholic days. For this reason
England was admittedly bound to the successors of
Peter by closer ties and more intimate relations than
were the other peoples of Christendom. It is indeed
1 Hist. Ecct., lib. ii, c. i.
- The Ho7iiities of the Anglo-Saxon Church, ed. Thorpe, ii,
p. 117.
AND ENGLAND 281
remarkable how, for centuries after their conquest to
Christianity by the missionaries of St. Gregory, the
Saxon peoples turned to Rome. They looked to it for
inspiration in their ecclesiastical buildings and their
ecclesiastical ceremonies, as well as for authoritative
guidance in the faith. To make the journey to Rome
and, once in a lifetime at least, to visit the limina
Apostolorum, was the ardent desire of multitudes of both
women and men; and the letters of St. Boniface alone
show that in his day the roads to Rome were well worn
by the journeyings of English pilgrims of all sorts and
conditions. The English loved to note down in their
books the position and the very measurements of the
sacred places in the Eternal City; and there is some
reason for thinking that here in England, at Canterbury,
on the greatest festivals, such as Christmas, they tried
to copy the ceremonies of Papal Mass as far as possible,
and even sang the two Epistles with the Gradual in
Greek and in Latin. To use the words of the latest
editor of St. Bede's History, all must allow that " the
Church of England long retained a grateful sense of
what she owed to St. Gregory." l This devotion of the
English to their "Apostle" and to the Popes who fol-
lowed him was recognised even beyond the limits of
their country. Thus, the author of the Gesta Abbatum
Fontanellensium, A.D. 743-753, speaks of "the men of
Britain, that is the English, who always remain the
most faithful servants of the Apostolic See";' whilst
the chronicler Thietmar writes: "I have time without
number noted that the Angles, called so either because
of their angelical faces, or because they occupy an angle
1 Baedae Opera Historica, ed. C. Plummer, ii, p. 67.
- Pertz, Mon. Germ, ii, 289.
282 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
of this earth," are oppressed by the Danes and made to
pay tribute to them, though "they were tributaries of
the Prince of the Apostles, Peter, and the spiritual sons
of their father Gregory." '
On occasion of this centenary, then, it needs no ex-
cuse to recall those well-known facts which brought
St. Gregory into such close connection with our race,
and which left in the minds and hearts of the English
people so deep a sense of gratitude to him and his suc-
cessors, that it lasted on, in spite of changes of dynasty,
social upheavals and conquests, for more than eight
centuries.
Tradition brings St. Gregory into connection with
England for the first time in the story of the " fair-haired
youths " in the market-place at Rome. The anecdote
is, indeed, one of our cherished national possessions, and
like so many of the tales which have centred round the
great personality of the Saint, and now form almost
necessary chapters in his life, this story is, we may be
happy to think, of English origin. John the Deacon, who
wrote the longest biography of the Pope, about the
year 827, plainly says that the instances he gives about
St. Gregory's wonder-working powers are those which
are commonly read to the people in the English churches.'"2
Whatever their exact historical value, these stories must,
at least, be regarded as certain evidence of the love and
affection of the first Christian missioners — Augustine,
Mellitus, Paulinus, and the rest — for the Pope who had
sent them hither and had encouraged them in the serious
and difficult work of converting the far-distant land of
England. They speak, too, of the eagerness of our first
1 Pertz, Mon. Germ., iii, 847-8.
2 Migne, Pair, /a/., lxxv, col. 105.
AND ENGLAND 283
Christian ancestors to know all they could about Rome,
and especially about him whom they had come to revere
and love as " their father and apostle."
Until comparatively recent times it was believed that
St. Bede's Ecclesiastical History was the source from
which St. Gregory's later biographers, the deacons Paul
and John, had drawn many of the facts they relate about
him. But the discovery of an earlier life of the Saint,
made by Professor Ewald in a manuscript in the library
of St. Gall, has thrown new and unexpected light upon
the origin of several of the anecdotes related in these
biographies.1 The MS. in question (No. 567) is of the
eighth or ninth century, and, according to the high
authority of its finder, it is certainly the earliest known
life of St. Gregory, anterior to the account given in
St. Bede's History, and consequently, of course, to the
two lives by the deacons, John and Paul. In his intro-
ductory essay to the portions of this manuscript that he
has printed, Ewald shows that this, the earliest life, is
undoubtedly English in origin, is the work of a North-
umbrian, and almost certainly of a monk of Whitby,
since he calls Whitby nostrum coenobium. The account
given of the work of St. Paulinus in the north ; the know-
ledge manifested of King Edwin and of the burial of his
remains in the church of St. Peter, prince of the Apostles,
" with the bones of our other kings, at the north of the
altar sanctified in the name of the most blessed Apostle
Peter, and to the east of that, which in the same church
is consecrated to St. Gregory " " all help to connect the
1 It is now nearly three centuries since attention was called to
the work, but in such a way as to frighten off every later enquirer,
cf. Downside Review, July, 1886, p. 271.
- Paul Ewald, Die altestc Biographie Gregors 1 in Historische
2S4 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
writer clearly with the northern part of England, and in
some way with Rome through St. Paulinus, St. Gregory's
immediate disciple. Of the writer's own personal love
and devotion to St. Gregory there is ample testimony in
this new life. To him the great Pope is " Papa noster";
" Apostolicus noster"; "doctor noster"; "noster Gre-
gorius" {our Gregory), and the English race are his
special Apostolate. And the setting of the scenes recall
the north and St. Paulinus in particular. Even in his
day, St. Bede tells us, and he knew that part of the
country well, the memory of Paulinus, the Apostle of
the north, and of his preaching, was still fresh and green
among the people of Northumbria. In the northern
Cheviots, too, at Kirk-Newton, the dedication of a church
to St. Gregory, and the existence of a " Gregory hill "
and a " Gregory well," in a place where local tradition
still points to the spot where stood the royal house of
Edwin, and where still runs the stream in which Paulinus
is said to have been engaged for six-and-thirty days in
baptising his new converts, seems to show, were proof
needed, the ancient devotion and veneration of Paulinus
for Gregory. Is it too fanciful, therefore, to suggest that
many of these stories told about St. Gregory the Great,
and which have now been shown by the discovery of
Professor Ewald to have had an English, and a northern
English origin, may have fallen from the very lips of
St. Paulinus himself, and having been treasured as
cherished traditions by the first Christians of the northern
Aufsdtze dem Andenken an Gcorg Watts gewidmet, 1886, p. 63.
I have, since this essay was written, published the entire text of
this precious MS., entitling it: A Life of Pope St. Gregory the
Great, written by a Monk of the Monastery of Whitby {probably
about A.D. 713), Westminster, Art and Book Co., 1904.
AND ENGLAND 285
parts, were preserved to us by this monk of Whitby?
The writer, indeed, professes to record what is commonly
spoken of among the people; for instance, he prefaces
his account of the story of the English youths in Rome
by the phrase, " est igitur narratio fidelium " — " it is a
tale told among the faithful." The story, too, it must
be remembered, has a real northern setting: Deira was
Northumbria, and Aelli, the king, was the father of
Edwin, by whose conversion, as the writer of this early
life takes care to note, Gregory's prophecy was ful-
filled.
What is true about the origin of the " market-place "
story is true also of several of the other well-known anec-
dotes connected with the life of St. Gregory. The miracle
of the woman who had doubts as to our Lord's presence
in the Holy Eucharist at the time of Communion,- for
example: the cloths sent to St. Gregory; the story of the
Tyrant and his approach to Rome; that of Trajan, and
in fact all that are related by Paul the deacon in six
chapters s of his life of the Saint, are taken almost cer-
tainly from this early English life, and may thus be said
to have had an English origin. Perhaps it would be
more correct to represent these tales as having been re-
turned to Italy whence they came, after having been told
to the new converts in England by their first missioners,
treasured up in the memories of the grateful neophytes
and repeated from mouth to mouth, as perhaps teaching
them, in a way they could understand, more about the
1 Paul Ewald, Die iilteste Biographie Gregors I in Historischc
Aufsiitze dan Andenken an Georg Waitz gewidmct, 1886, p. 48.
2 Migne, Pair, /at, lxxv, col. 52. Told in the life by Paul the
deacon.
3 Cap. 23 to 29.
286 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
real personality of Gregory, and warming their hearts
more towards him, than could any dry statement of facts
and dates. In regard to the Trajan story, harder perhaps
to believe in those days even than in our own, it has
been remarked that it is instructive " to see how the
Englishman (the writer of this early life) very explicitly
throws the responsibility of it on the Romans," adding,
" some of our people say that the tale is told by the
Romans."
Sometimes, no doubt — perhaps often — the stories of
the wonders worked by their great father and apostle of
their race would, in process of time, tend to grow in the
telling as all such stories do. One such instance is
afforded us by an English addition to the anecdote of the
Emperor Trajan, who was said to have been delivered
from hell by the prayers of St. Gregory. The story it-
self, as already pointed out, is first known in this earliest
life of the great Pope by the northern monk. In a later
version, given in an English collection of anecdotes in-
tended to enlighten the tedium of ordinary parochial
discourses, or to emphasise the point of some doctrinal
teaching, there is a somewhat curious explanation of the
constant sickness that almost overwhelmed St. Gregory
in the last years of his life, which is brought into connec-
tion with the Trajan story. " In the life of St. Gregory,"
the writer says, " we read that after he had liberated the
soul of the Emperor Trajan from hell by his prayers, an
angel appeared to him and said : ' Since you have prayed
for this man who was lost, and obtained what you asked,
you have now to choose one of two things: you must
either pass the space of two days in Purgatory, or be
afflicted with pain and sickness during the rest of your
life.' The Saint made choice of the life-long sufferings;
AND ENGLAND 287
and he got what he asked, as may be read in the story
of his life." '
According to the English tradition, then, St. Gregory
first came into contact with the English in the Roman
forum, and the incident first made him dream of becom-
ing the Apostle of our race. This event must be placed
somewhere about the year 585 — that is, after his return
from Constantinople, whither he had gone to represent
Pope Pelagius II at the Imperial Court. Although
Gregory had thought to escape from all contact with
worldly affairs by taking refuge in the cloister as a
monk, the Pope had other views in his regard, and made
him one of the seven regionary deacons of the City of
Rome. In one of his official rounds, he is supposed to
have first come upon the English youths. The story will
be well known to everyone, but it may perhaps be allowed
to find a place here, as it is given in the early life spoken
of above, which, be it remembered, represents the earliest
English tradition as to the incident, and that which
almost certainly St. Bede subsequently utilised. Al-
though in its main features the story is the same that
we know so well, there are one or two interesting differ-
ences, which make it perhaps worth while to give it at
length in the words in which, as the Whitby monk says,
" it was told among the faithful."
" Before his {i.e., St. Gregory's) pontificate," says the
writer, " there came to Rome some men of our nation
with fair faces and light hair.2 When he had heard of
1 B. Mus. Acid. MS. 11284, f. 76. The writer refers the reader
to the Preface of the Dialogues for St. Gregory's account of his
sufferings. This is a mistake for the Introductory letter to the
Morals of the Book of Job. Migne, Patr. hit., lxxv, col. 615.
2 It will be noticed that this earliest account of the incident
288 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
their arrival, he desired to see them, and was struck by
the sight of their light colour, and his attention was
arrested by their novel and unwonted appearance. What
is more than this, being inwardly moved by God, he was
led to inquire to what nation they belonged. fSome say
that they were handsome boys, some call them curly-
headed and graceful youths.) ' When Tin reply to his
question) they had answered : ' The people to whom we
belong are called Angles,' he exclaimed: 'Angels of
God.' Then said he again : ' And what is the name of
the king of that people? ' To which they replied, ' Aelli!
Upon this he exclaimed again: ' Alleluia, for in that
place ought God's praises to be sung.' Once more he
asked what was the special name of the tribe to which
they belonged. They told him: ' Deira '; on which he
exclaimed: l de ira Dei' — those who are flying from
God's wrath to the Faith." 2
The author of this early life then describes the attempt
made by St. Gregory himself before becoming Pope to
journey over into England as our Apostle. The account
of this, as given by St. Bede,3 is very brief, and the special
incidents related in the two lives of the deacons John
and Paul do not appear at all in his version. They are,
however, to be found fully recorded in this early life,
which is thus again recognised as the source of these
narratives. We there learn of Gregory's secretly setting
out from Rome, with the permission he had with diffi-
does not speak of the pueros venales of St. Bede. The other lives
of the deacons Paul and John follow Bede in saying that these
youths were slaves, which St. Bede introduced with the phrase,
" Advenientibus nuper mercatoribus."
1 This passage Ewald notes as an addition.
2 P. Ewald, Die dlteste Biographie Gregors I, tit supra, p. 48
Hist. Eccl., lib. ii, cap. 1 ^ed. Plummer, i, p. 80).
AND ENGLAND 289
culty extorted from Pope Benedict I, and of the deter-
mination of the Roman people to bring him back l again
to the city. From this source also comes the incident,
not to be found in St. Bede, but which appears in the
two later lives, of the jingling cries invented by the
Romans in their endeavour to force the Pope to recall
the Saint: " Petrum offendisti ; Romam destruxisti ;
Gregorium dimisisti " — " Thou hast offended Peter and
ruined Rome in letting Gregory go." In this life like-
wise is to be found the story, again not to be found in
Bede, but which is in the later lives, of the locust which
is said to have settled upon Gregory's book as he was
resting during a mid-day halt in his flight from Rome.
The incident is well known from one of those plays upon
words, which through the non Angli sed angeli story we
are used to attribute to St. Gregory. In this case, repeat-
ing to himself the name of the insect — locasta — he inter-
preted it as signifying locus-sta, or sta-in-loco — " remain
in the place " — which play of his fancy was immediately
realised by the arrival of the messenger, whom the Pope
had been forced to send, to recall Gregory to the Eternal
City. It is at least curious and worth noting that this
story, as well as the non Angli incident, which so well
represent St. Gregory's playful nature, and which we
English at least have learnt to regard as typical of our
Apostle, have both an English origin.
It may here, perhaps, be permitted to give a transla-
tion of another passage from the old life, which deals
1 See in Migne, ut sup., cols. 51, 52 (Paul the Deacon's Life),
and col. 72 (John the Deacon's Life). We may note that it is from
this early English life that John the Deacon got the correct name
of the Pope, Benedict I. Bede omits it, and Paul the Deacon
erroneously gives the name of Gregory's immediate predecessor,
Pelagius 11.
U
290 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
with the fulfilment of St. Gregory's old prediction as to
the conversion of the people of Deira. Nothing of the
kind has found a place in the later lives, although from
his connection with the north we might almost have ex-
pected that St. Bede would have given something of the
same kind as we find in the Northumbrian monk of
Whitby, especially when we can be almost certain that
he had this account before him. The author of the early
life writes: "By these {i.e., the Kentish missionaries,
Augustine, Mellitus, and Laurence) Ethelbert, the first
of all the English kings, was brought to the faith of
Christ, and washed by His baptism, was made glorious
with all His people. After this, in our own nation, which
is that of the Northumbrians, Edwin, the aforesaid son
of Aelli, whom deservedly we remember in the prophecy
of the Alleluia of divine praise, ruled both with singular
wisdom and with the sceptre of that royal authority
(which had existed) ever since the English peoples
landed in this island.
"O! how excellently well and how fitly did not all
these things happen. Thus, the name Angle, if one letter
e be added, becomes Angel: certainly the people who are
called by this name are meant to praise God for ever in
Heaven. . . . And the name Aelli is composed of two
syllables. If from the first of these the letter e is removed,
and in the second syllable an e is put in place of the
(final) z, the word is Alle, which in our language means
absolutely ' everyone.' And this it is that our Lord says:
Come to Me all ye that labour,'" etc.; as, indeed, the
whole people did when they lovingly embraced the Faith
at the bidding of their Apostles.2
1 Paul Ewald, ut siipra, p. 50.
- " In his loyalty to the royal house of Deira, the founders and
AND ENGLAND
291
In spite of Gregory's flight from Rome to avoid the
burdens and the responsibilities of the papacy, he surren-
dered himself finally to God's will, and was consecrated
Pope on September 3rd, A.D. 590. He had not forgotten,
and did not forget even in the multitude of affairs which
now claimed his attention, the far-off English peoples
whose Apostle he had desired to be. As Supreme Pontiff,
the zeal of former years came back to assist him in carry-
ing out what he, from his office of common father of all
nations of the earth, now regarded as a duty and responsi-
bility. He had evidently determined upon and planned
the mission of Augustine long before he was in a position
to accomplish it, for in a letter written after the first
English conversions had been made, and after Augustine
had received consecration as first Bishop of the English
at Aries, the Pope says as much to Syagrus of Autun.'
At first it was evidently his intention to obtain English
youths and to educate them in Rome, so that they might
subsequently return as missionaries to their native
country. In the early days of his Pontificate the Pope
wrote to Candidus, the agent for the patrimony of the
Church in Gaul, to act for him in this matter. He bade
him use the money he received from this source to
furnish clothes for the poor, or to obtain "English youths
patrons of his own monastic house at Whitby, he (the author of the
old life) gives Edwin, the sainted first Christian king of North-
umbria, a splendid character. ... Of St. Paulinus, his ecclesias-
tical hero, he gives an account filling four sections (14-17). The
two next relate what is wholly new — the translation of the body of
St. Edwin from Hatfield, near Doncaster, to Whitby, some time
between the years 695-704; here we incidentally learn that in the
monastery church there, there was an altar under the dedication of
St. Gregory." — Downside Review, July, 1886, p. 273.
1 Ep. ix, 108, Migne, Pair, hit., lxxvii, col. 1035.
292 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
of seventeen or eighteen, who may be dedicated to God
and brought up in monasteries for His service. As, how-
ever, such youths will be pagans, I desire," he says, " that
a priest be sent with them in case they fall ill on the
journey, so that he may be able to baptise them should
he see they are likely to die." ' It can hardly be doubted
that these directions were carried out; and that, although
there is no direct evidence on the matter, some of the
missionaries who subsequently came to England were
natives of the soil, educated and prepared for their work
in this way. Indeed, by reason of a suggestion made by
some ancient Welsh writers, it has been supposed by
some that St. Paulinus, the Apostle of Northumbria, was
of British birth and had been taught in St. Gregory's
monastery in Rome; but this is a mere supposition, and,
in view of the traditional description of his person given
by St. Bede,2 seems to be improbable, if not quite un-
tenable.
By the spring of 596, St. Gregory's preparations for
despatching his long-contemplated mission to England
were complete. For that difficult and perilous work he
naturally turned to men of his old monastery of St. Andrew
on the Ccelian, some of whom had been his companions
in the abortive attempt he had made some years before
to become himself the Apostle of England. It is im-
possible for any Englishman to read without emotion the
marble record in the Church of S. Gregorio on the
Ccelian hill in Rome, which to-day commemorates the
setting forth from that spot of the mission of St. Augus-
tine and his companions, more than thirteen centuries
ago. It requires little stretch of imagination to believe
1 Ep. vi, 7, Migne, Pair, /at, lxxvii, col. 799.
- Hist. Eccl., lib. ii, c. 16.
AND ENGLAND 293
that St. Gregory himself had trained them in his own
spirit and zeal for souls, and in his entire self-sacrifice to
prepare them for the work. The actual progress of this
mission on its way to England and what they accom-
plished does not immediately concern us, except in so
far as it has relation to St. Gregory's own action. Leaving
Rome, then, in A.D. 596, the travellers rested awhile at
the celebrated monastery on the island of Lerins, then a
great centre of Christian learning, which had furnished
many illustrious rulers to the churches of southern Gaul.
From Lerins they passed on to Aix ; where, troubled
by rumours of the difficulties which lay before them, it
was determined to stay awhile and to send Augustine
back to Rome for advice, and even, it would seem, to
suggest to the Pope the necessity of their recall and the
entire abandonment of their mission.
To this appeal to be allowed to return, St. Gregory
turned a deaf ear. He, however, seems to have recognised
the need of increasing the authority of the leader of the
mission, and he sent Augustine back as the Abbot of the
little community. By him he sent letters of thanks to
those who had shown kindness to his missionaries on
their way, and the following letter of exhortation and
good advice to the monks themselves.
" To the brethren on their way to England. Gregory,
the servant of the servants of God, to the servants of Our
Lord Jesus Christ. It is right, my dearest children, that
you should make every effort to finish the good work
which, by God's help, you have begun, because it were
better not to undertake good works, than to think of
withdrawing from them, when once they have been com-
menced. Let not the hardships of your journey, nor the
tongues of evil-speaking people frighten you, but carry
294 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
out what you have undertaken at God's inspiration, with
all eagerness and fervour, knowing that the reward of
eternal glory is secured by great labours. Humbly obey
Augustine your prior, whom on his return to you we
have appointed your Abbot, in all things. Remember
that whatever you do according to his directions will
always be profitable to your souls. May God Almighty
shield you with His grace, and may He grant that I
may see the fruits of your travail in our everlasting
country, so that although I cannot myself labour along
with you, I may share in the joy of your reward, be-
cause, indeed, had I my wish, I would join in your
work. May God, my beloved sons, take you into His
safe keeping." '
At the same time St. Gregory wrote to Virgilius of
Aries, and sent the letter by the hands of Augustine, to
" whose zeal and ability " he bears testimony. He informs
the Bishop of Aries that he has sent the bearer " with
other servants of God " on a mission " for the benefit of
souls to a place he (Augustine) will tell " him about. In
this work he writes: "You must give him the assistance
of your prayers and other help. If need shall arise, aid
him by your encouragement and refresh him, as is right,
with your paternal and priestly consolation ; so that if,
whilst accompanied by the helps of your holiness, he
shall gain anything for Our God, which we anticipate he
will, you also, who have assisted the good work devotedly
by the abundance of your prayers, may likewise have
your reward." ~
The Pontiff likewise wrote at the same time to Theo-
doric, King of Orleans and Burgundy, who then held his
1 Ep. vi, 51, Migne, Pair. Int., lxxvii, col. 836.
- Ibid., 53, Migne, Pair, /at., lxxvii, col. 837.
AND ENGLAND 295
Court at Chalons-sur-Saone; to his brother, King Theo-
debert, and to their grandmother, Brunhild, who lived
with the latter at Metz, asking them to assist in the good
work. " We have heard," he says to the two first-named,
" that the English nation has been led by the mercy of
God, eagerly to desire conversion to the faith of Christ,
but that the priests near by are negligent and do not
fan the flame of desire by their exhortations." " For this
reason, I have," he continues, " despatched Augustine
and his companions, and have instructed them to take
with them some priests of the neighbouring country,
by whose assistance they may ascertain the disposition
of this people, and encourage their good intentions by
their preaching, as far as God allows." Then after be-
speaking the goodwill of the two rulers for his mis-
sionaries, he concludes: "Since souls are at stake, may
your influence protect and aid them, so that God Al-
mighty, who knows with what devoted heart and pure
zeal you render this assistance in His work, may take
all your affairs into His merciful charge, and lead
you through earthly sovereignty into His Heavenly
kingdom." '
Encouraged by Gregory's earnest exhortations, the
missionaries again set out on their journey through Gaul
towards unknown England. Help and hospitality were
accorded to them by the bishops to whom the Pope had
written on their behalf. They were received by Theo-
doric and Theodebert, and by Clothair II, who was
then ruling in Paris under the tutelage of his mother,
Queen Fredegond. Their journey was slow, and they
had to winter in Gaul, so that it was not till Easter
time, 597, that they landed in England, and the harvest
1 Ep. vi, 58, Migne, Pair. lat.y lxxvii, col. 842.
296 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
of souls so eagerly looked for by St. Gregory began to
be gathered into the granaries of the Church.
The delight of the Pope found expression in many of
his letters at this time. In fact, during the eight years
which passed between the coming of the English mission
and the death of St. Gregory, in writing to Patriarchs,
Bishops, Kings, Queens, and others, the Pontiff refers to
the success of the Gospel in this country some six-and-
tvventy times, so full is he of the work. To his friend
Eulogius, Bishop of Alexandria, for example, he wrote,
asking him to share in his great joy: " I know well, that
even in the midst of your own good tidings (which you
send me), you can rejoice at those of others, and so I
will repay your news by announcing tidings not very
dissimilar. The English, a nation occupying a little
angle of the world, have been up to this time without
the Faith, and have retained the worship of stocks and
stones. Now, however, through your prayers, God put
it into my mind to send thither a monk of my own
monastery to preach the Gospel to them. By my licence
he has been consecrated bishop by the bishops of Ger-
many, and by their assistance he reached the above-
named nation at the extremity of the world; and now,
news has just reached me of his safety, and of his won-
derful doings. Either he or those that were sent with
him have been so conspicuous amongst this people by
the great miracles they have worked, that they seem to
have the power of the Apostles in the signs they have
wrought. On the feast of Our Lord's Nativity ... as I
hear from our same brother and fellow bishop, more
than ten thousand English were baptised. I mention
this so that you may know what has been done through
your prayers at this farthest extremity of the world,
AND ENGLAND 297
whilst you are talking to me about the people of Alexan-
dria. Your prayers bear fruit in places where you are
not, while your works are manifest in the place where
you are." '
" To him " (that is, to St. Gregory), writes Venerable
Bede, " must be attributed, as a work of affection and
justice, that by preachers whom he sent our nation was
set free from the jaws of the old enemy, and made to
share in eternal liberty." '" And in proof of the venerable
Pontiff's joy at the success of his endeavours, St. Bede
quotes a passage from St. Gregory's work, the Morals
on the Book of Job. " God Almighty," he there says,
" has opened the midst of the sea to the sunlit clouds,
for He has brought even the ends of the earth to the
Faith by the renowned miracles of His preachers. For,
behold, how He has already touched the hearts of all
nations! Behold how He has joined the east and west
in one faith! Behold how the British tongue, which
knew only how to utter savage cries, has already begun
to sing the Hebrew Alleluia in the divine praises!
Behold how the swelling ocean already submits to carry
the feet of the saints; how its rough waves, which
earthly princes could not tame by the sword, are through
the fear of God made captive by the simple words of
His priests! Behold how those who, whilst they had not
the Faith, never knew fear for any bands of fighting
men, now amongst the faithful obey the word of
humble men. For, indeed, the heavenly message being
once understood, and miracles also attesting it, the grace
of the knowledge of God is poured out upon that people ;
it is restrained by fear of the same divine power, so that
1 Ep. viii, 30, Migne, Patr. tat., lxxvii, col. 931.
- Hist. Ecc/., lib. ii, c. 1 (ed. Plummer, i, p. 78).
298 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
it dreads to do evil, and with every best desire longs to
attain to the grace of eternal life." l
In less than a year from the time of the first landing
of the missionaries, Augustine found it necessary to
send two of his monks, Laurence and Peter, back to
Rome to obtain assistance and advice. They left Eng-
land, probably in the spring of 598, taking to the Pope
a full account of the prosperous state of his mission,
and putting before him certain difficulties which required
his supreme direction. Though it is said that Gregory
did not delay to reply to the questions proposed to him,
the messengers did not leave Rome again on their return
before June 22nd, 601, when Laurence and Peter took
with them fresh labourers for the work that had to be
done in England. Amongst them were three names after-
wards prominent as missionaries in the country, Paulinus,
Mellitus, and Justus. They carried with them fresh
letters of recommendation from the Pope to bishops and
rulers, asking their aid for the missionaries, and mani-
festing the great joy of St. Gregory at the tidings of the
first successes by which God had blessed the undertaking.
" By the grace of our Redeemer," he writes in one of
these communications, " so great a multitude of the
English nation is converted to the Christian Faith, that
our most reverend common brother and fellow-bishop
Augustine declares that those that are with him are not
sufficient to carry on the work in every place. We have
consequently determined to send him some (more) monks
with our much-loved sons, Laurence the Prior, and
Mellitus the Abbot."2
1 Migne, Patr. /at., ut stipra; also Mora/ium, lib. xxvii, c. II,
Migne, Patr. /at., lxxvi, col. 410.
2 Ep. xi, 58, Migne, Patr. /at., lxxvii, col. 1176.
AND ENGLAND 299
By this same mission Gregory sent letters to King
Ethelbert of Kent, and his Queen, Bertha. To the former
he writes words of encouragement and paternal advice.
" Almighty God," he says, " raises up certain good men
to govern Mis people, so that through them He may
distribute the gifts of His mercy to all under their sway.
Such, we understand, has been the case in regard to the
English nation, over which Your Magnificence has been
placed, so that the heavenly gifts may be bestowed upon
the people under your rule through the favours granted
to you." He then exhorts him to persevere in helping
on the conversion of the English people, and holds up to
him as a model the example of the Emperor Constantine.
He then proceeds: " Our most reverend brother Augus-
tine, Bishop, is proficient in the monastic rule, filled
with a knowledge of the Holy Scripture, and by God's
grace endowed with good works. Give a willing ear to
his admonitions, carry them out devotedly, and store
them carefully in your memory. If you give heed to
him when he speaks to you in Almighty God's name,
Almighty God will the more speedily hearken to him
when he prays for you. If, which God forbid, you dis-
regard his words, how shall Almighty God hear his
pleadings for you, when you refuse to hear his for God.
... I have forwarded you a few trifling tokens of esteem,
which, however, you will not look on as trifles when you
remember that they come to you with the blessing of
blessed Peter the Apostle."1
To Oueen Bertha, the Pontiff wrote in the same en-
couraging strain. " Our most beloved sons, Laurence
the priest, and Peter the monk," he says, " on their
1 Ep. xi, 66, Migne, Pair, /a/., lxxvii, col. 1201.
3oo ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
return, told us how graciously Your Highness received
our most reverend brother and fellow-bishop, Augustine,
and of the great consolation and affection you have
shown him. We have blessed Almighty God that in
His mercy He has deigned to reserve the conversion of
the English nation as your reward. For even, as by
Helena, mother of the most pious Emperor Constantine
of precious memory, the Faith of Christ was enkindled in
the hearts of the Roman people ; so also we trust that
through your zeal His mercy has been working in the
English nation." The Pope then mildly rebukes Bertha
for having failed to try and convert her husband before,
but encourages her to strengthen her consort in the
fervour of his conversion. " Your name," he adds, " has
reached not only the Romans, who have prayed fer-
vently for your welfare, but divers parts of the world,
and even Constantinople and the ears of the most Serene
Prince. As the consolation of your Christianity has
given us joy, may the angels in heaven rejoice at the
completion of your work.'"
St. Gregory's letter to Augustine himself, written at
this same time, allows us to see at once the fulness of his
joy at all he had heard, and at the same time his fear
lest, perhaps, the soul of his disciple should be in any
way harmed by any unwise exaltation at the swift suc-
cess that had attended his mission. He writes: "Glory
be to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of
good will; for the grain of wheat which fell into the
earth is dead, and so He, by whose weakness we receive
strength, by whose pains we are freed from suffering,
should not reign solitary in Heaven. For love of Him,
we seek in Britain the brethren whom we know not, and
1 Ep. xi, 29, Migne, Pair. /#/., lxxvii, col. 1141.
AND ENGLAND 301
by His favour we have found those whom we sought
without knowing them. Who can describe the joy that
filled the hearts of the faithful here, because by Almighty
God's grace and through the labours of your fraternity,
the English nation has had the clouds of error dispersed
and is flooded by the light of holy Faith? . . . Whose
work is this, but His who saith: My Father worketh
until now, and I work. To show that He converted the
world, not by the wisdom of men, but by His own power,
He chose illiterate men to send into the world to preach.
This has He done also now, for He has deigned to per-
form feats of strength among the English people by
means of weak instruments.
" In that heavenly gift, dearest brother, there is that
which should inspire exceeding great fear. I know well,
beloved, that God Almighty hath through you wrought
great miracles in the nation that He hath deigned to
select. In that heavenly gift, however, there is that
which should make you fear while you rejoice. You can
be glad, indeed, because the souls of the English are
drawn to interior grace through exterior means. Yet you
must also fear lest, amidst the signs that are wrought by
you, your weak mind should be presumptuously lifted
up by its powers, and through vain glory should fall from
within according as it is exalted in honour from with-
out.
One point settled by St. Gregory at this time is
worthy of some notice. In his letter to Ethelbert the
Pope had urged the King to destroy the pagan temples
in his kingdom, but he subsequently modified this view.
After the second band of missionaries had left Rome, he
despatched a letter to overtake Mcllitus on the journey,
1 Ep. xi, 28, Migne, Pair, hit., lx.wii, col. 138.
302 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
by which to correct his first judgment on this matter. In
this second letter he says : " After the departure of our
brethren with you, we were in great anxiety since we
heard nothing of the success of your journey. When
Almighty God shall have brought you to our most
reverend brother, Augustine, tell him that I have long
deliberated over this point in regard to the English:
(and have come to the conclusion) that the temples of
idols in that country should not be demolished, but the
idols therein destroyed. Bless water, sprinkle the tem-
ples with it, erect altars and deposit relics in them : for
if these temples have been well built, they should be
transferred from the worship of idols to the service of
the true God. When the people see that the temples are
not destroyed, and, putting error from their hearts, come
to know and worship the true God, they will the more
readily resort to the places that are familiar to them.
Moreover, as it is their practice to slay numbers of oxen
in the service of their devils, substitute some similar
solemnity for this: on the day of the dedication of the
church, or of the martyrs whose relics are deposited
therein, let them construct bowers of the branches of
trees near these churches into which the temples have
been converted, and let them celebrate their solemnities
with religious rejoicings. Let them no longer sacrifice
animals to the devil, but kill them for their own use, to
the glory of God, and let them render thanks for their
abundance to the Giver of all things. In this way, while
some form of external rejoicing is preserved to them,
they may be the more inclined to appreciate interior
consolations; for it is undoubtedly impossible to cut off
everything from their rude minds at once. He who
would climb a height ascends by steps or paces, not by
AND ENGLAND 303
vaulting." ' It was upon the directions laid down in this
letter that St. Augustine acted when he purified the
heathen temple at Canterbury and dedicated it as a
Christian church, under the patronage of St. Pancras. If
we are to believe in a subsequent tradition preserved at
Canterbury itself, the choice of the patron was dictated
by a wish to take this martyred Roman youth as patron,
so as to be a memorial of the fair-haired Saxon boys
whose presence in Rome had first suggested to St.
Gregory the need of converting England to the faith.1
Very possibly, also, some of the monk missionaries may
have come from the monastery which St. Gregory had
established at the Roman Church of St. Pancras in
order that the Saint's body might be kept with honour,
and the unbroken liturgical services be offered to God
above his tomb.3
It is unnecessary here to say much about the formal
letter to St. Augustine sent by the Pope in reply to
questions as to discipline and ecclesiastical management
proposed to him. St. Gregory answers with great care
and minuteness, and the document evidences his interest
in the state of the country, his grasp of the situation, and
his broad-minded consideration. In this" little book," as
St. Bede calls this document, we may understand the
spirit of him whom we glory in revering as our Apostle.
What evidently characterises the Respousions of St.
Gregory throughout, is the wise discretion which knows
how to relax as well as how to maintain the strictness of
rule; how, by condescension, to adapt even outward
circumstances into means for securing the very end de-
1 Ep. xi, 76, Migne, Patr. /a/., lxxvii, col. 12 13.
2 Hist. Mon. S. Augustine Cantuar. Rolls series, p. 80.
'J Ep. iv, [8, Migne, Patr. Int., lxxvii, col. 687.
304 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
sired, and how to admit of the good from whatever
quarter derived, so long as it was " the good " and could
be made to serve God's work and God's glory.
The last act of St. Gregory for the English Church
was to make provision for its government. He estab-
lished the Metropolitan Sees at London (afterwards
transferred to Canterbury) and at York ; the latter to
enjoy archiepiscopal rights only after St. Augustine's
death. According to this original plan each Metro-
politan was to preside over twelve suffragans, and to
each Archbishop he proposed to give the pallium. He
then exhorted the newly-established Church of the Eng-
lish people to concord and unity: "Let all things that
are done for the zeal of Christ," he says, " be arranged
with common counsel and united action: let all deter-
mine what is right to be done unanimously, and carry out
what they determine without differing one from an-
other."1 This important direction as to the administra-
tion of the Church of England was sent off at the end of
June, 60 1, and although St. Gregory lived for nearly
three years after this, he did not, of course, live to see
his entire plan for the organisation of the Church carried
out; and part of it was subsequently found to be un-
workable in practice.
Something must now be added to what has already
been said about the love and reverence with which
St. Gregory was always regarded by the English people.
Churches were dedicated to God under the patronage
of his name, and from the earliest times altars were set
up in his honour. Of the latter, two may be named :
that erected in the Church of the blessed Apostles Peter
and Paul at Canterbury, at which, in St. Bede's day,
1 Ep. xi, 65, Migne, Pair, /at, lxxvii, col. 1200.
AND ENGLAND 305
every Saturday a priest celebrated the divine mysteries
in memory of the archbishops who had succeeded
Augustine in the charge committed to him by St.
Gregory:1 and that "in the porch of Pope St. Gregory,"
built by St. Oswald at the Church of " the blessed
Apostle Peter " at York, in memory of the great Pope
" from whose disciples he had received the word of
life." a
Throughout the whole Church, and in a particular
manner in England, the works of St. Gregory became
the foundation of the moral, theological, and spiritual
teaching during centuries after his death. It is not too
much to say that his Morals on the Book of job and his
treatise on the Pastoral Charge long formed the store-
houses from which generations of spiritual writers drew
their inspirations, their ideas, and frequently their very
words. Amongst the books that St. Augustine brought
with him was the tract De Cura Pastorali of the Saint,
which was long treasured at Canterbury by those who
loved to be called the " discipuli beati papae Gregorii"
— the disciples of the blessed Pope Gregory.3 Pope
Honorius, in his letter to King Edwin, after his baptism
in the north by St. Paulinus, urges him to study the
works of St. Gregory, "your teacher."' In the lan-
guage of St. Aldhelm, the great Pope was " our watch-
ful shepherd and teacher, who saved our ancestors from
the dark errors of paganism and brought to them the
grace of regeneration." 6 St. Bede gives a catalogue of
1 Hist. Eccl, ii, cap. 3 (ed. Plummer, i, p. 86;.
- Ibid., cap. 20.
3 Ibid., Praef. (ed. Plummer, p. 6).
1 Ibid., lib. ii, c. 17.
5 Migne, Pair, tat., lxxix, col. 155.
X
3o6 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
St. Gregory's works, and Alcuin says that whatever the
Pontiff wrote was in the library at York.1 Writing, too,
in 797 to an English Bishop, Speratus, on the office of a
bishop, he says: " Often read, I beg of you, the book of
our teacher Saint Gregory on the Pastoral Charge. In
it you will see the dangers of priestly office, and not
forget the reward of the faithful servant who has
worked. Often keep the book in your hands; imprint
its meaning deep upon your memory, so that you may
know how anyone should receive the dignity of the
priesthood ; and having received it, with what intention
he should preach; and, indeed, he (St. Gregory) has
described with the greatest discretion what is proper for
each one." 2
Lastly, to take one more example: among the books
which King Alfred translated for the use of his people
was the Pastoral Book of St. Gregory. He sent a copy
of this translation to each bishop in his kingdom, that it
might be placed in his cathedral church. With it he
sent a precious " aestel," or marker, and ordered that
" no one should remove the aestel from the book, or the
book from the minster," unless it were wanted by the
Bishop. In his letter to the Bishops of the kingdom,
which accompanied the book, the King says: " I began,
among the various and manifold troubles of this king-
dom, to translate into English the book called Pastoralz's,
or in English, Hirdeboc, sometimes word for word, and
sometimes according to the sense, as I had learnt it
from Plegmund my archbishop, and Asser my bishop,
and Grimbald my Mass-priest, and John my Mass-priest;
and when I had learnt it as I best could understand it,
1 Historians of the Church of York (Rolls series), i, p. 395.
2 Migne, Pair, tat., c, col. 242.
AND ENGLAND 307
and as I could most nearly interpret it, I translated it
into English." '
The Popes are always to be found in subsequent ages,
even after the Conquest, constantly reminding England
of its debt to their predecessor St. Gregory the Great.
For instance, to give some examples only after the
Normans were established in the land: Paschal II,
writing to Henry I, refers to the necessity of keeping the
laws and directions received "from Blessed Gregory, the
Apostle of the English race." Pope Calixtus II, in a
letter to the same king, uses the expression : " Pope
Gregory, that renowned propagator of the Christian
faith in your kingdom." In the same way the debt of
gratitude is fully acknowledged on the part of the
English. Ralph, Archbishop of Canterbury, for instance,
in 1 199, speaks of the close relations which have ever
existed between Rome and Canterbury, " from the time
when the Holy Father Gregory sent the saintly and
venerable man Augustine to preach the Faith." Through-
out this letter the great Pontiff is pater noster Gregorius
— " our father Gregory," — and the Archbishop declares
that it is for this reason that Canterbury has always
shown " the greatest obedience to the supreme and chief
See, that of the blessed Peter." The Metropolitan rights,
about which the Archbishop was then appealing to the
Pope, were really safeguarded from the earliest times,
because they had been established by St. Gregory.
Alcuin declared this in one of his verses: " It was," he
says, " because Gregory the Bishop had decreed thus or
old, when from the City of Rome he sent the seed of life
to the English nation."
The feelings of our Saxon forefathers towards the
1 W. Hunt, Hist, of the English Church, i, p. 281.
308 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
great Pontiff are well expressed in the words, written as
a Northumbrian, by the old English monk in the earliest
life of St. Gregory: "O most loving Father, Lord God
Almighty, though we did not deserve to have the actual
presence of the blessed Gregory amongst us, nevertheless
we have ever to give Thee thanks that it was through
him we had our teacher Paulinus."
We may conclude by the relation of an incident re-
corded as having happened after the death of our great
Apostle, which is partly fact and partly, possibly, legend
embroidered upon the groundwork of reality by the de-
votion and reverence of subsequent generations. Gre-
gory's death, we are told, was immediately followed by
a display of the proverbially fickle character of a mob,
and of a Roman mob, perhaps, in particular. The Pope
had lived for the people, he had taught them, he had fed
them and cared for them, but his death synchronised
with a time of great scarcity and distress. A rumour,
rising no one knew from whence or from whom, and
spreading, no one knew how, among the half-starving
people, attributed their troubles to the fact that Gregory
had dissipated the patrimony of the Church, which they
had come to regard as their own. The mob surrounded
the papal palace, and determined to destroy all the
works of the saint, whom they had suddenly come to
regard as their worst enemy. This catastrophe was
averted by a tragic occurrence which was long the talk
of Rome. Peter, the deacon, as all readers of St. Gregory's
Dialogues know so well, had been the constant attendant
of the Pope, and his amanuensis in the composition of
his works. Fearing that the threats of the mob might
really result in the destruction of the works he regarded
as so precious, Peter came forward, and offered in his
AND ENGLAND 309
person to stand the test of their worth. He promised to
take an oath upon the Gospels that these works were
inspired by the Spirit of God, and that it would be a
grievous offence against the Almighty to destroy what
had thus been written. He offered consequently to take
this oath as to the truth of what he was going to relate,
and to take the consequences of what St. Gregory had
foretold would happen, namely his death, if he ever re-
vealed what his intimate relation with the Pope had
made known to him. Having told them this, Peter, it
is said, mounted some steps, took an oath upon the
Gospels, and related the following incident in the life
of the dead Pontiff to which he could testify. Whilst
dictating to him it was frequently St. Gregory's custom
to place himself behind a curtain screened from the sight
of his scribe. One day Peter moved by curiosity at the
curious pauses the saint had been making in speaking,
raised the curtain and looked behind, when he beheld
the semblance of a dove — the emblem of God's Holy
Spirit — hovering round about St. Gregory's head and,
as the Saint paused, approaching him and appearing to
whisper in his ear as if directing him. Upon the holy
Pontiff finding out that the faithful Peter had surprised
his secret, he warned him never to reveal it to anyone,
and declared that in the hour that he did so, he would
die. This was the supreme test to which Peter the
deacon submitted himself, to save the works of his be-
loved master from destruction. The proof was in favour
of the works, for, as the story goes, as his relation of
this incident concluded, he expired suddenly in the
sight of all.
Lastly, it is impossible to celebrate the memory of
this event, which happened thirteen hundred years ago,
310 ST. GREGORY THE GREAT
without reflecting upon the historical influence exercised
by the mission of Gregory upon " the making of Eng-
land." Perhaps no single life in the entire period from
that day to this, has been so productive of such lasting
fruit, and to no single individual does England owe
so much. The historian Green has fully discerned this,
and has well described what the genius of Rome and
the genius of Pope Gregory effected for this country's
good. " Nothing is more characteristic of Roman Chris-
tianity," he writes, " than its administrative organisation.
Its ordered hierarchy of bishops, priests, and lower
clergy, its judicial and deliberative machinery, its courts
and its councils, had become a part of its very existence,
and settled with it on every land that it won. Gregory,
as we have seen, had plotted out the yet heathen Britain
into an ordered Church, and although the carrying out
of this scheme in its actual form had proved impossible,
yet it was certain that the first effort of the Roman See,
now that the ground was clear, would be to replace it
by some analogous arrangement. But no such religious
organisation could stamp itself on the English soil with-
out telling on the civil organisation about. The regular
subordination of priest to bishop, of bishop to Primate
(and, we may add, of Primate to Pope), in the adminis-
tration of the Church would supply a model on which
the civil organisation of the State would unconsciously,
but irresistibly shape itself. The gathering of the clergy
in national synods, would inevitably lead the way to
national gatherings for civil legislation. Above all, if
the nation in its spiritual capacity came to recognise
the authority of a single Primate, it would insensibly
be led in its temporal capacity to recognise a single
sovereign. . . . The hopes of such an organisation rested
AND ENGLAND 311
in the submission of the English States to the Church of
Rome."
This was the work St. Gregory did for England, and
if to some the words of the historian of The English
People may appear somewhat far-fetched, it is impossible
to read the records of those early times without seeing
that the influence of Rome and Roman ways made for
unification. Without St. Gregory and his monk-mission-
aries, the welding of the peoples, and even nations, in
this land into the one English folk might have been in-
definite!)' postponed.
INDEX
ABBEYS OF ENGLAND, ec-
clesiastical position of, 2 ; a
great good to the people, 96.
Abbot, position of a parliamentary,
23. 33-
Abbots refuse to surrender, 50,
104; proposed legal process
against, 55; cause of their
deaths the supremacy question,
106.
Abingdon, Abbot of, examined as
to opinions, 86; monk of, in
prison, 86.
Adelard, monk of Bath, teacher of
renown in Paris, 143.
Aelli, King of Northumbria, 285.
Agnellus, Friar, Franciscan Pro-
vincial in England, 116.
Aidan, St., 4.
Albans, St., monastery of, seat of
learning, 163.
Alberic, teacher in Paris, 142.
Albertus Magnus, 117.
Alcuin corrected corrupt biblical
text, 124 ; on St. Gregory's work,
306 ; recommends reading of Pas-
toral Charge, 306.
Aldhelm, St., 2.
Alfred, King, translates Pastoral
Charge, 306.
Almshouse established by Abbot
Bere, 14.
Altar, the silver, at Glastonbury, 20.
A ml a tin us Codex, 137.
Amyas Chauntry, Nottingham, 257.
Amyas, Wm., founder of Notting-
ham Chauntry, 257.
Apostles, the preaching of, in Eng-
land, 4.
Aprice, John, the royal Visitor, 37.
Arimathea, St. Joseph of, legends
as to, 4.
Aristotle, forgotten in the West, 121 ;
ignoranceof, in the West, lOfdseijtj. ;
rise of influence of, on Western
studies, 150.
Aries, British bishops at, 91 note.
Arthur, King, 3.
Arthur, John. See Thorne, John.
Aske, Robert, his letters to Read-
ing, 82.
Asser, Bishop, 306.
Athelney Abbey, fined, 16; me-
thod by which surrender of, was
secured, 49.
Athenae, a work on the harmony of
the Gospels, 162.
Attainder, of abbots, 54, 55, 56, 59;
effect of, as to monastic property,
147.
Audley, Sir Thomas, pleads for
Colchester, 87.
Augustine of Hippo, St., 123.
Augustine, St., of Canterbury, 282,
290; sent to England, progress of
journey, 292 seqq.; made abbot,
313
3H
INDEX
293 ; sends back messengers to
Rome for advice and further help,
298 ; preaching of, 3.
Avalon, 5.
Averroes, 149.
Avicenna, 149.
Aylmer, Bishop, complains of influ-
ence of " popish dignitaries," 221.
Bachyler (cf. Giles, Bachelor), pro-
ceedings against, 81, 88.
Bacon, Roger, works of, source of
knowledge of mediaeval thought
and work, 114; account of his
studies, lie, seqq. ; his eulogy of
Adam Marsh and Bishop Grosse-
teste, 116; complains that Scrip-
ture was not supreme in theo-
logical studies, 119; on Bishop
Grosseteste's attainments, 121;
on correction of biblical texts,
122; on various corrections of
biblical text, 126 seqq.; shows
knowledge of works of Josephus,
Origen, and Eusebius, 130; de-
mands "scientific spirit" in re-
vision work, 132; principles to
guide, 132; Opus Majus and
Opus Minus, 133; Opus Tertium,
134; on unnamed English bib-
lical scholar, i^a, seqq . ; on Aver-
roes, Avicenna, and Aristotle,
149; condemns translations of
Aristotle, etc., in use, 150; on
activity of friars, 152; on aids to
study, 153; French estimate of,
163 seqq.; value of his work,
165.
Baigent, F. J., 190.
Baldwin of Flanders, established
study of Greek in Paris, 148.
Barklay, Alexander, on mediaeval
table manners, 168; describes
mediaeval feast, 176.
Barton, Abbot of Colchester, 95.
Basing (or Basingstoke), John de,
Greek scholar, 122, 158 ; on
Greek numerals, 162; and St.
Albans, 163.
Batcombe, Parish Church of, 41.
Bath, 71; and Abbot Feckenham,
203 seqq. ; Feckenham's bath and
hospital in, 217.
Bath Abbey, 9.
Battle Abbey, 3.
Beche, John, Abbot of Colchester,
95; not long at Colchester, 96 note ;
at Oxford, 96; his piety and
learning, 98; his distress at the
deaths of Fisher and More, 99,
103; in the Tower, 101; exam-
ination of witnesses against, 101;
his loyalty to authority of the
Pope, 102; his opinion of Cran-
mer, etc., 103; his opinion on
the divorce question, 104; his
refusal to surrender of, 104; his
pectoral cross, 105, III seqq.
Becket, St. Thomas, his cause same
as that of abbots, 106; his Life
found at Glastonbury, 52.
Bede, St., on St. Gregory as Apostle
of England, 280; on St. Gregory's
attempt to go to England, 288.
Bede-roll, 276.
Bedford, Earl of, befriended by
Feckenham, 209.
Bells, peal of, at Leverton, process
of casting, etc., 274.
Beneall, Richard, monk of Glaston-
bury, 21.
Benedict I, 289 note.
Benedictine Order, loyalty of, to
Holy See, 86; colleges of, at Ox-
ford, 96.
Benen, St., and Glastonbury, 4;
Church of, at Glastonbury, 14.
Benet Biscop, St., 4.
INDEX
315
Benet, Dom John, subpriorof Glas-
tonbury, 18.
Bere, Abbot of Glastonbury, 10,
7$ note; installed as abbot, 12;
his administration, 14; his build-
ings, 14, 19; his learning, 15;
entertains Henry VII, 13; his
embassy to the Pope, 15; his
death, 17 ; his tomb, 19; character
of, 14.
Bere, Blessed Richard, 9.
Berger, Samuel, on ancient biblical
studies, 114; on Bibles in Eng-
land translated from the Hebrew,
122; on study of the Bible, 125;
on Bacon's criticisms of biblical
text revisions, 131; on Correc-
torium Vaticanum, 137 seqq.; on
unknown biblical scholar, 138:
discovers name of, 139; on Roger
Bacon's learning, 164.
Bergholt, East, Benedictine Abbey
at, 112.
Berkeley, Maurice, Crumwell's re-
quests for, 41.
Bible of Charlemagne at Metz, 137.
Birkcnshaw, John, Abbot of Ches-
ter, 96 note.
Bishops, the, under Henry VIII,
25-26.
filanutngere, method of preparation
of, 176.
Blessed Virgin, Services in Chapel
of, at Glastonbury, 107.
Blessing, parental, 241.
Boisil, St., 4.
Boll, Harry, presents Chalice to
Church, 270.
Bonaventure, St., 117.
Book of Histories read at Oxford,
119.
Book of ' Kervyngc, 168, 232.
Book of Sentences preferred to Bible
in studies, 119.
Borde, Andrew, Begyment, 231 ; on
hearing Mass, 232.
Boston, bell casting at, 274.
Breton [or Briton], Wm. the, Fran-
ciscan, corrects Bible text, 126,
148.
Brewer, Rev. Mr., on scholarship
of Friars, 151.
Bridgewater, 71.
Bristol merchants and Glastonbury
memorials, 7.
Bristol, St. Augustine's Abbey at,
38.
British bishops and Rome, 91 note.
British Christianity, evidences of,
at Glastonbury, 5.
British Church at Glastonbury, 4.
Brook, Robert, carver of statues,
275.
Rroxholme, John, buys up chaun-
tries, 257.
Bruges, Franciscan Convent at, 9.
Brunton, Bishop, on religious ob-
ligations of Christian riches,
248.
Brussels, Benedictine nuns at, III.
Bruton Abbey, Dr. Layton on reli-
gious life at, 38.
Bruton, Bishop Gilbert, Abbot of,
blesses Abbot Whiting, 22.
Brynstan, Friar John, preaches at
Glastonbury, 42.
Bubwith, Nich., Bishop of Bath and
Wells, account of and funeral
feast of, 172; Menu of funeral
feast of, detailed, 174 seqq.
Buckingham, Duke of, 11 note;
position of, in west country,
34-
Bungay, Thomas, Franciscan
teacher, 117.
Burley, Franciscan teacher, 117.
Burnet, on the condemnation of the
three abbots, 57.
3i6
INDEX
Csedwalla, King, his journey to
Rome, 5.
Calixtus II reminds Henry I of
England's debt to St. Gregory,
307-
Cambridge University, Abbot Whit-
ing at, 11, 17.
Camerarius, the, duties of, 17.
Candidus, urged by St. Gregory to
assist English youths, 291.
Canterbury, 3.
Canterbury, anciently Epistle sung
there in Greek and Latin, 281 ;
St. Dunstan's, "old Moder Hop-
per's" gift to, 270.
Canterbury, Archbishop of, position
of, 34-
Canterbury Tales, on rights of the
poor, 248.
Caruell family persecuted by Fel-
ton, 195.
Cassiodorus, 123.
Caterers, mediaeval, 171.
Cawdelle Ferry, how to make, 177.
Chair, the Glastonbury, 70 note.
Challoner, Bishop, on troubles en-
dured during penal times, 186.
Charlemagne sees need of revision
of text of Bible, 124.
Chaucer, his description of the
Franklin's housekeeping, 178.
Chaunder, John, Bishop of Sarum,
installation feast of, 1 72.
Chauntry, what it really was, 256.
Cheke, Sir John, owes his life to
Feckenham, 209.
Chester, Abbot of, becomes Abbot
of Colchester, 96 note.
Chester, John, chauntry priest,
257.
Church, mediaeval attendance at,
239-
Church, parish, looked on as property
of parishioners, 277-278.
Churchwardens' Accounts, 264.
Churchwardens, arranged hours for
Masses, paid obits, etc. , 266-267 ;
trustees of parish property, 266 ;
and the poor, 268.
Cicely, mother of Edward IV, rules
for the household of, 178 seqq.
Cistercian movement, abbeys
founded during, 2.
Civil commotions, demoralising
effect of, 10.
Clarke, Thomas, 42.
Claymond, John, 75 note.
Cleeve Abbey, fined by Henry VII,
16.
Clement IV, 115; encourages learn-
ing, 151.
Clergy in sixteenth century, the,
25.
Clerke, Dom Robert, sacrist at
Glastonbury, 18.
Clifford, Lord, present possessor of
Abbot Beche's cross, 112.
Clothair II, receives English mis-
sionaries, 295.
Cobbes, Richard, 77 seqq.
Colchester, Abbey of, difficulties as
to temporalities, 95 ; oath of
supremacy administered at, 97 ;
gateway of, 100; reported dis-
solution of, 100.
Colchester, Abbot of. See Beche.
Coliner, Henry, prior of Glaston-
bury, 17.
Collectivism, outcome of Catholic
religion, 253.
Collier, his account of condemna-
tion of abbots, 57.
Comestor, Peter, work of, on Book
of Histories, 119.
Compromissum, election of Abbot
Whiting by, 18.
Constantia, Athenian maiden,
teacher of Greek, 158.
INDEX
3l7
Constantinople, influence of, on
Western studies, 144 seqq.'
Cook, Abbot Hugh, of Reading,
his origin, 72, 73 ; his alternative
name of Faringdon, "j^no/e ; his
election as abbot, 74; affection of
Henry VIII for, 76, 79, 83; his
reports about the king's death,
82; his difficulties with Bishop
Shaxton, 76 seqq. ; his detestation
of new doctrines, 80; his loyalty
to Holy See, 86; on the royal
supremacy, 29, 80, 90 seqq. ;
holds examination on treasonable
correspondence, 82 ; his sus-
picion of Dr. London, 87; his
treason is really his loyalty to
Rome, 29, 82, 89; examination
in the Tower, 88; his condemna-
tion in the Tower, 56, 88; his
unwillingness to surrender his
abbey, 87 ; date of his martyr-
dom, 90; his speech at his execu-
tion, 90; testimony as to martyr-
dom, 72.
Cooper, Thomas, Bishop of Win-
chester, refused burial to recu-
sants, 191.
Copyists, errors of, 123.
Cornish, Dr. Thomas, Bishop of
Tinos, ordains Abbot Whiting, 16.
Cornish insurgents, 12.
Correcioria, 136 seqq.
Counter, the, supposed trial of
abbots in, 56.
Coventry, Ciles, grey friar of Read-
ing, 88.
Cox, Bishop Ric, receives Fecken-
ham, 221.
Cox, Leonard, 75.
Cranmer, Archbishop, his Lutheran
opinions, 78; a heretic, 103.
Criticism, biblical, English, in thir-
teenth century, 113 seqq.
Crowland, 3.
Crowman, Edmund, servant of
Abbot Beche, 101.
Croydon, the vicar of, 90.
Crumwell, Thomas, Sir Thomas
More's advice to, 25 ; advance-
ment of, 26; his views as to
Glastonbury, 42; defective re-
cords of the last years of his ad-
ministration, 47 ; denies any in-
tention of a general dissolution,
48 ; his determination to proceed
against Abbot Whiting, 50; his
Remembrances ; 54, 56, 59, 88 ;
condemns the abbots, 56 ; Abbot
Beche's opinion about, 103.
Cunthorpe, Dean of Wells, enter-
tains Henry VII, 13.
Cura Paslorali, de, of St. Gregory,
305-
Danes, ravages of the, 4, 6.
Dante on Michael Scot's powers,
156.
David, St., and Glastonbury, 4.
Dayes of the Wcke Moralysed, on
Mass hearing, 233.
Deira, 285.
Democracy, Christian, in pre- Re-
formation times, 245 seqq.
Denifle, Father, on biblical studies,
139.
Denys the Areopagite, pseudo-, text
of, brought to England, 159.
Dialogues of St. Gregory, 287 note.
Dinners, Two, at Wells in the fif-
teenth century, 166 seqq.
Dissolution of monasteries, the gen-
eral, 47 ; royal intention of, de-
nied, 48.
Dives et Pauper, on rights of the
poor, 247 ; on religious obligations
of Christian riches, 249.
Divorce, the, 27; a book upon,
3i8
INDEX
found among Abbot Whiting's
effects, 52-55; Abbot Beche on,
104.
Docking, Thomas, Franciscan
teacher, 117.
Dominicans of Paris revise Bible,
125.
Doulting, 2.
Dover, St. Mary's, payment to priest
to read bede-roll, 276.
Dudley, Lady Jane, befriended by
Feckenham, 209.
Dugdale, Sir Wm., gives descrip-
tion of Feckenham, 222.
Duns Scotus, Franciscan teacher,
117, 157-
Dunstan, St., 6; his dream as to
Glastonbury, 6; monastic revival
under, 7.
Durham, Liber vitae of, 5.
Eccleston, Friar, on Oxford teach-
ing, 116; on activity of Friars,
152.
Edgar, King, his chapel at Glaston-
bury, 19.
Edward III, preparation for a dinner |
for, 169 seqq.
Edward IV, rules for household of
Cicely, mother of, 178 seqq.\ rules
of, for his son to hear daily Mass,
232; directions of, for perform-
ance of divine service, 239.
Edward V, regulations for training
of, 228; instructions for saying
grace, 235.
Edward VI and the confiscation of
guilds and chauntries, 256.
Edwin, King, burial of, 283; con-
version of, 290.
Edwin, St., translation of body of,
from Hatfield to Whitby, 291 note.
Egelyonby, Sir Robert, gift to
Church, 269.
Election of abbots, form of, 17
seqq.
Eliot, Sir Thomas, suspected of
popish opinions, 86.
Elizabeth, Princess (afterwards
Queen) befriendedby Feckenham,
209.
Elphege, St., 7.
England, revival of learning in, 154-
155-
Erasmus, and Abbot Bere, 15; on
music in English monasteries,
108.
Ethelbert, King, conversion of, 290.
Ethelwold, St., 7.
Eusebius, 161.
Evesham Abbey, 3.
Evesham Abbey, Feckenham edu-
cated at, 205.
Ewald, Professor, and discovery of
very ancient Life of St. Gregory,
283 and note.
Ewerer, office of, 168.
Exmew, Blessed William, II.
Eynesham, Abbot of, 86.
Eynon, John, 60 note, 81, 90, 91;
right spelling of name, 91 note;
his declaration as to the papal
supremacy, 92 note.
Family Life, Christian, in pre-Re-
formation days, 224 seqq.
Family ties, forgetfulness of, 226.
Faringdon, Abbot. See Cook.
Faubourdon music at Glastonbury,
118.
Feckenham, Abbot, and Bath, 203
seqq.
Feckenham, John, alias Howman,
birth and training of, 204; goes
to Oxford, 205 ; ordination of,
206 ; takes degree of Bachelor 01
Divinity, 207 ; teaches at Eves-
ham, 207; signs surrender of his
INDEX
319
monastery, pensioned, 207 ; re-
turns to Oxford, 207; chaplain to
Bishop Bell of Worcester, then to
Bishop Bonner, 207 ; sent to
Tower by Edward VI, still Vicar
of Solihull, 207; disputes at Sir
W. Cecil's house, and at Sir John
Cheke's, 208; holds disputation
with Bishop Hooper, 208 ; re-
leased from Tower, 208 ; preaches
at Paul'sCross, 209; againbecomes
chaplain to Bishop Bonner, 209;
prebendary of St. Paul's, 209; in-
tercedes for Princess Elizabeth
(afterwards Queen), 209; chaplain
and confessor to Queen Mary,
209; Dean of St. Paul's, 209;
resumes Benedictine habit, 210;
becomes Abbot of Westminster,
210; restores divine office to
Westminster Abbey, 211; preaches
at Queen Mary's funeral, 212;
hears of suppression of religious
houses, 212; rumoured offer to
him by Queen Elizabeth of Arch-
bishopric of Canterbury, 212;
ejected from Westminster Abbey,
sent to Tower, 213; in charge of
Dean Goodman, then of Bishop
Home, 214; discussions with
Bishop Home, 214; sent back to
Tower, 214; released from prison,
dwells in Holborn, 214; bene-
volence of, 214; builds aqueduct
in Holborn, provides poor with
milk, 215; permitted to visit Bath,
215; stays with Dr. Sherwood in
Bath, 216; builds a bath and
hospital for the poor in Bath,
217; draws up book of medical
recipes, 218; his rules for taking
the Bath waters, 21S seqq. ; sus-
pected of influencing consciences,
221 ; sent to live with Bishop Cox,
221; sent to Wisbeach, 222;
description of, by Dugdalc, 222 ;
death and burial of, 222 ; be-
quests of, to poor of Westminster,
223.
Felons, the abbots put with con-
demned, 66.
Felton, persecutor of Catholics,
194 seqq.
Fisher, Blessed John, II, 28, 55,
59, 98, 103.
Fitzjames, Nicholas, 39, 64.
Flemming, Bishop of Lincoln, feast
given by, 172.
Ford Abbey, fined by Henry VII,
16.
Forrest, Blessed John, 28, 73.
Fortescue, Sir John, 198.
Fountains Abbey, 2.
Fox, Bishop of Bath and Wells,
12.
Fox, John, the martyrologist, 10.
Francis, Dom John, monk of Col-
chester, 97.
Frankish, Wm., legacy of, for
statues, 275.
Fredegond, Queen, receives mis-
sionaries to England, 295.
Frieston, bell casting at, 275.
Fuller, describes Feckenham, 209.
Galingale, 169.
Gall, St., MS. life of St. Gregory,
283.
Gawen family, troubles of, in penal
times, 192 seqq; persecuted by
Felton, 195; Star Chamber pro-
ceedings against, 196 seqq.
Gawen, Frances, first Abbess of
Cambrai, 194.
Gawen. John, settles at Norrington,
„ x93-
Gawen, Thomas, refuses to attend
Protestant service, 193; fined,
_i20
INDEX
193; estate sequestrated, 193;
marries Katherine Waldegrave,
193; his grave desecrated, 200
seqq.
Gawen, Thomas, son of Thomas
Gawen, 194.
Gawen, Thomas (Junior), settles at
Horsington, Somerset, 202.
Gawen, Wm., sells Norrington,
202.
Gerson, John, 30.
Gesta Abbatum Fontanellensium, on
England's fidelity to Holy See,
2S1.
Gifford Hall, III.
Gildas, St., and Glastonbury, 4.
Giles, Bachelor, 81, 88.
Giles, John of St., and St. Albans,
163.
Glastonbury Abbey, unique charac-
ter of, 2 seqq.; legends of, 5, 7;
a Roma secunda, 7 ; pilgrimages
to, 7; Henry VII at, 13, 15;
school at, 9 ; musical training at,
107 seqq.; number of monks at,
17, 28; love of monks for tradi-
tion of, 70 note ; magnificence of
the buildings at, 63; the great
church of, 19; the religious ser-
vices at, 107 ; character of the
religious life at, 38 note; position
of an abbot of, 22, 33; abbot's
house at, 34; abbot's garden at,
44; supremacy oath taken at, 27;
royal injunctions unworkable at,
39 ; views on king's policy at, 43 ;
coming dissolution of, 47 ; last
undissolved house in Somerset,
49 ; final measures against, 50 ;
plate at, 51, 54; the great sap-
phire of, 51 note; ransacked for
plate, 52; dissolution of, 52, 54;
Crumwell's note as to plate, 59;
the chair belonging to, 35, 70
note ; proposed restoration of, in
Mary's reign, 71.
Glastonbury, British Church at, 4;
St. Benen's Church at, 4; Tor
Hill at, 2, 69, 70.
Glastonbury, Dom John, cellarer of
the abbey, 18.
Gloucester Hall, Oxford or Monks'
College, now Worcester College,
205.
"Gobbetts," 168.
Grace at Meals, 235.
Greek, knowledge of, at Glaston-
bury, 15; at Reading, 75 note;
need of knowledge of, in biblical
studies, 120; studied in West
after capture of Constantinople,
144.
Green, J. R., on the influence of
Rome on the " making of Eng-
land," 310.
Gregory IX writes on behalf of
Michael Scot, 121.
Gregory of Xazianzum, St., 147.
Gregory the Great, St., influence of,
in adoption of St. Jerome's Vul-
gate, 123; and England, 279
seqq. ; and Saxon youths in Rome,
282; most ancient Life of, com-
posed at Whitby, 283; Life of
Pope, St.. written by a monk of
Whitby, 284 note ; miracle of
doubting woman, 285; said to
have delivered Trajan from hell,
285-286; becomes monk and de-
sires to become apostle of Eng-
land, 287 ; Saxon youths, legend
of, 288; becomes Pope, 291 ; de-
termines on mission to England,
291-292; urges Candidus to assist
English youths, 291; sends St.
Augustine to England, 292; letter
of, to missionaries on way to Eng-
land, 293 ; writes to Virgilius,
INDEX
321
Bishop of Aries, 294 ; writes to
Theodoric, King of Burgundy,
294 ; to Theodebert, 295 ; to
Brunhild, 295 ; delighted with
conversion of England, 296; in-
forms Eulogius of Alexandria,
296 ; rejoices at conversion of
England in Morals on the Book of
fob, 297; on the success of the
English missioners, 298 ; writes
to King Ethelbert and Queen
Bertha, 299; writes to congratu-
late St. Augustine and warn him
against pride, 300 ; orders St.
Augustine to utilise pagan tem-
ples, 301 ; his Responsions, 302-
303 ; founds English Sees and
settles government of Church,
304; love and reverence for, of
English people, 304 seqq. ; Eng-
land's debt to, 307 ; revolt of
Roman mob against, 308; Peter
the deacon's secret about, 308;
and " the making of England "
influence of, on, 310.
Grey Friars at Reading, proceedings
against, 88.
Grey, Lord de la, fish banquet by,
172.
Grimbald, King Alfred's Mass
priest, 306.
Grocyn, 75 note.
Grosseteste, Bishop, Roger Bacon's
master, 116; urges Friars to
pursue studies, 118; Bacon on
his attainments, 121 ; on cor-
rection of biblical texts, 122; and
the revival of learning in Eng-
land, 157; his masters, 157; De
cessatione legalium, 159; trans-
lates Greek works, 160; value of
his work, 165.
Guilds, 259 seqq.
Guilds, confiscation of, 256.
Hales, Alexander of, first read Book
of Sentences, 119.
Hallam on splendours of Constan-
tinople, 144.
Hanborough, 86.
Hanotaux, M., on economic aspect
of Reformation, 255.
Harpsfield, Dr., suspected of in-
fluencing consciences, 221.
Hay ward e, reporter of Star Cham-
ber proceedings, 199.
Hearne, the antiquary, 9.
Heath, Archbishop, sings Mass in
Westminster Abbey, 211.
Hebrew, need of knowledge of, in
biblical studies, 120.
Henley on Thames, hours of Mass
at, payment of priests at, 276.
Henry IV, coronation feast of, 1 72.
Henry VII, insurgents against, 12;
visits Glastonbury, 12, 15.
Henry VIII, early reputation of, 28 ;
general character of, 25 ; his spi-
ritual headship not understood,
28, 29, 92 note\ object of royal
injunctions to monasteries, 37;
his jealousy for royal prerogatives,
78; reports as to death of, 82;
his breach with Rome on the
divorce question, 104.
Hertford, John de, Abbot of St.
Albans, patron of learning, 162.
Hindeley, John, gifts of, to church,
269 ; Gervase, 269 ; Thomas, 269.
Hinton, Charterhouse, 49, 59.
Hirdeboc, or St. Gregory's Pastoral
Charge, 306.
Hobhouse. Bishop, on mediaeval
laymen's attitude to parish church,
265.
Hody, his work De Bibliorum
textibus, 115.
Holyman, Dom John, monk of
Reading, 75, 81.
322
INDEX
Holyman, Dr., rector of I Ian-
borough, 86.
Honorius I calls St. Gregory
" teacher" of England, 305.
Honorius III, writes on behalf of
Michael Scot, 121 ; recommends
Michael Scot to Cardinal Lang-
ton, 155; encourages learning,
151 ; on Bishop Grosseteste's
learning, 157.
Hopper "Old Moder," gift of, to
Church, 270.
Home, Thomas, Abbot Whiting's
servant, 62.
Horner, Thomas, 64.
Houghton, Blessed John, 11.
Howe, John, buys up Chauntries,
257.
Howman, Florence, 204; leaves
bequest to poor of Solihull, 207.
Howman, Humphrey, 204 ; leaves
bequest to poor of Solihull, 207.
Howman, John, alias Feckenham,
204.
Ilchester, 71.
Ina, king, 3, 4; his journey to
Rome, 5.
Individualism, result of Reforma-
tion, 253.
Indractus, the hermit, 4.
Injunctions, object of the royal, 37;
unworkable in practice, 39.
Innocent III encourages learning,
150.
Instruction of children, 240.
Inventories of Church goods, 264.
Irchons, how to make, 177.
" Itala" version of Bible, 123.
James I repudiates alleged promise
made to Catholics, 199.
James, Roger, subtreasurer of Glas-
tonbury, 53, 67, 70.
Jansens, on result of Reformation
in Germany, 254.
Jerome, St., author of Vulgate,
123.
Jessopp, Dr., on self-government
of mediaeval parishes, 266; on
vast wealth of Church treasures,
271.
Jewel, John (afterwards Bishop of
Sarum), disputes with Feckenham,
208.
Jews, idea of conversion of, 159.
John, King Alfred's Mass-priest,
306.
John of Oxford, Bishop of Norwich,
121; encourages students, 145,
147.
John of Salisbury, on English scho-
larship, in his Metalogicics, 141;
his own training, 141 seqq.; and
Aristotle's Logic, 148.
John the Deacon, on St. Gregory's
miracles, 282; supposed to have
drawn information about England
from St. Bede's History, 283.
Joseph, Robert, prior of Monks'
College and Feckenham's master,
205 ; letter book of, 205 seqq.
Julian, the Apostate, 147.
Jurisdiction, suspension of abbatial,
39-
Jury, functions of, in Tudor times,
63, 64.
Jus pauperum, 247.
Justus, St., 298.
Kennelle, Ric. , sues Gawen family
in Star Chamber, 196 seqq. ;
desecrates grave of a recusant,
200; blamed by Star Chamber
for desecrating grave, 201 ; fined
and imprisoned, 201.
King, Oliver, Bishop of Bath and
Wells, 13, 16.
INDEX
323
Kirk-Newton, Church of, dedicated
to St. Gregory, 284 ; reason why,
284.
Lanfranc purified biblical text, 124.
Langton, Cardinal, his connection
with biblical studies, 125.
Lateran Council orders schools of
grammar to be founded, 151.
Latimer, Bishop, 73; his Lutheran
views, 78.
Lawrence, Peter, warden of the
Grey Friars, Reading, in Tower,
88.
Lawrence, St., of Canterbury, 290,
298.
Lay Folks Mass Book, 232.
Layman, the, status of, in Catholic
Church, 261 ; in the pre- Reforma-
tion parish, 261 seqq.
Layton, Dr. Richard, royal Visitor
at Glastonbury, 38, 39, 60; his
testimony to the religious life at
Glastonbury, 38; retracts his
praise, 51; suspends the abbot's
jurisdiction, 40; arrests the Abbot
of Glastonbury, 51; on spoils of
Reading Abbey, 93.
Legh, Thomas, the royal Visitor, 37.
Leicester, Earl of, befriended by
Feckenham, 209.
Leland, the antiquary, on the Glas-
tonbury library, 36; on Abbot
Whiting, 36 note.
Leo XIII on right use of riches,
249.
Leverton, church accounts of, 274 ;
book-binding, etc., at, 276 ; pre-
sent of vestments to church of,
270.
Library, the, at Glastonbury, 36.
Lightfoot, Bishop, and Letters of
St. Ignatius, 161.
Loans, parish, to the poor, 268.
London, Dr., royal Visitor at Read-
ing, 76, 87.
London, Dom Roger, monk of
Reading, 76, 79 and note, Si; in
Tower, 88; proceedings against,
88.
London, See of, founded by St.
Gregory, transferred to Canter-
bury, 304.
Loretto, B. V. M. of, chapel to, at
Glastonbury, 19.
Ludlowe, Sir Edm., J. P., favours
Gawen family, 196 seqq.
Lully, Raymond, 117; Franciscan
traveller, 154; urges teaching of
Greek, Arabic, etc. , in Paris, 154.
Lutheran doctrines, opposed at
Reading, 75, 77, 80.
Lyndwood, Provinciate, on rights of
the poor, 247 ; on duties of
parishioners, 269.
Lyte, John, 43.
Machyn records sermon by Fecken-
ham, 209; describes re-entry of
Benedictines into Westminster
Abbey, 211.
Manchester, Richard, friar, Si; in
Tower, 88.
Manners, table, in fifteenth century,
167.
Manning, Cardinal, on supreme
headship, 30.
Mannock, Family of, original pos-
sessors of Abbot Beche's pectoral
cross, ill.
Mannock, Sir George, III; Dame
Etheldreda, III.
Mare, Win. de la, English Fran-
ciscan biblical scholar, 139; his
work against St. Thomas of
Aquin, 139 ..
Marillac, the Ambassador, 40; on
Abbot Whiting, 55.
324
INDEX
Marsh, Friar Adam, Roger Bacon's
master, 116; lectures in Oxford,
117; on correction of biblical
texts, 122; on activity of friars,
152, 157-
Marshall, Abbot of Colchester. See
Beche.
Masbury Camp, view from, 1.
Mass, behaviour at, 234; hearing,
230; Morrow, 231; Jesu, 231.
Mellitus, St., 282, 290, 298.
Melun, Robert de, teacher in Paris,
142.
Menus, mediaeval, 171.
Mere, near Glastonbury, criticism
of king at, 42.
Melalogicus of John of Salisbury,
141.
Michiel Giovanni, Venetian Am-
bassador, on restoration of the
Benedictines, 210; describes re-
storation of divine office at West-
minster Abbey, 211.
Middle Ages, literature of, formed
on Scripture, 114.
Middleton, Richard, Franciscan
teacher, 1 17.
Monasteries, royal demands on re-
venues of, 41 ; strongholds of papal
supremacy, 46-47 ; suppressed for
the sake of plunder, 31, 102; legal
aspect of suppression of, 45 ; royal
visitation of, 37 ; object of royal
injunctions to, 37 ; wrecking of
the Somerset, 50 ; means of com-
munication between, 84-85 ; music
and church services in, 107.
Monketon, the Parish Church of,
41.
Monks, Benedictine, loyalty of, to
I loly See, 86.
Monks' College, Cambridge, 1 1
note.
Moore, the blind harper, 81; carries
communications between monas-
teries, 83, 85; in Tower, 88; his
probable execution, 85 note.
Morals on the Book of Job, 287 note,
3°5-
More, Blessed Sir Thomas, a wit-
ness to Abbot Whiting's election,
43 ; his corrody from Glastonbury,
41; his advice to Crumwell, 25;
refuses supremacy oath, 28, 55;
his declaration as to papal su-
premacy, 30; died for Church's
unity, 98; 103; sought parental
blessing, 243.
More, Sir John, and parental bless-
ing, 243.
Morebath, church accounts of,
271-272.
Morlai, Daniel de, 121; student and
traveller, 145; his account of his
search for learning, 146 seqq. ;
knowledge of Aristotle, 150.
Moyle, 51.
Mucheleney Abbey, fined by Henry
VII, 16.
Music at Glastonbury, 107 seqq.
Myrc, Instructions on behaviour at
Mass, 234.
Neckham, Alexander, on learning
at St. Albans, 163.
Netley Abbey, 2.
Nevill, Marmaduke, 98.
Nicholas, Deacon-librarian of Ro-
man Church, on multitude of bib-
lical versions, 124.
Nicholas the " Greek," Greek
scholar, 122, 160; account of,
162; and St. Albans, 163.
Nicke, Richard, Bishop of Norwich,
12.
Nobility, the new, character of, 24.
Norman, Richard, gift of, to church,
273-
INDEX
325
Norrington, ancient seat of Gawen
family at, 193.
Northwood Park, 41.
Norway, Sigfrid, apostle of, 7.
Nottingham, Amyas Chauntry, 257;
St. Mary's Chauntry, 257; chaun-
try in parish of St. Nicholas,
257-
Nuthake, Thomas, his evidence
against Abbot Beche, 104.
" Obits," explanation of, 257.
Observants, the, 28.
Occham, Franciscan teacher, 117,
157-
Organists at Glastonbury, the, 107.
Oxford, Abbot Beche takes his de-
gree at, 96.
Oxford, studies at, 116 seqq.; re-
nown of Friars of, 117; learning,
and Franciscans of, 157; Hebrew
taught at, 122.
Oynion. See Eynon.
Pace, Richard, educated by Abbot
Bere, 14.
Papal supremacy, foundation of, 30;
loyalty of Abbot Whiting to, 68,
88; do. of Abbot Cook, 80, 81,
88, 90-91; Abbot Beche in favour
of, 102 ; abbots died for, 106.
Paris, course of studies in, 142; in-
effective teaching in, 146.
Paris, Matthew, Chronica Majora
of, on Constantia a teacher of
Greek, 158; on Bishop Grosse-
teste's translations of Greek au-
thors, 160; on Greek method of
notation in Chronica Majora,
162.
Parker, Archbishop, sends Abbot
Feckenham to Tower, 213.
Parliament did not attaint abbots,
55-56.
Pancras, St., Canterbury, 303.
Parents, responsibility of, 225.
Paschal II reminds England of its
debt to St. Gregory, 307.
Paston, Agnes, method used by, to
date letters, 244.
Paston Letters, method of dating,
244.
Pastoral Charge of St. Gregory,
3°5-
Patriarcharum 7'estamenta, sent
for, to Greece, by Bishop Grosse-
teste, 159.
Patrick, St., and Glastonbury, 4.
Paul the Deacon, supposed to have
drawn information about Eng-
land from St. Bede's History,
283.
Paulet, Sir Amyas, 15, 21, 64.
Paulinus, St., 282; reverence for,
in North of England, 284; char-
acter of, 291 note; thought by
some to have been of British
birth, 292; 298.
Pauperism, outcome of Reforma-
tion, 250.
Payndemayn, 169.
Peccham, John, Franciscan Arch-
bishop of Canterbury, 117; 231;
on obligations of parishioners,
268-269
Pegge, S., on English search for
Greek manuscripts, 159; on
Nicholas the Greek, 162; on
mediaeval table manners, 16S.
Pelagius II, 287, 289 note.
Penal times, troubles of a Catholic
family in, 186 seqq.
Peniarth MSS., 205.
Penison, William, keeper of Read-
ing Abbey, 94 note.
Penny, Thomas, 10.
Perkin Warbeck in Somerset, 13.
Peter the Deacon, legend of his
326
INDEX
death and secret about St. Gre-
gory, 30S.
Peter the Lombard, 120; Book of the
Sentences, 148.
Peterborough, 3, 5.
Petersfield, list of Catholic recu-
sants in church at, 189.
Petre, William, 51 note.
Philip, St., disciples of, at Glaston-
bury, 4.
Philipson, Mr., on economic aspect
of Reformation, 255.
Philosophy of ancients known in
West only by translations from the
Arabic, 149.
Philpot, John, presents gifts to
Church, 270.
Piers Plowman, on rights of the
poor, 248.
Pigott, Dame Mary Ursula, ill;
Nathaniel, 112.
Pilgrimage of grace, 16; connection
of Reading with, 82; denied by
Eynon, 92 note; supposed sympa-
thy with, at Colchester, 97, 103.
1'ilgrimage to Rome, of old often
made by Englishmen, 281.
Pilgrim's Way, the, at Glastonbury,
34-
" Pillage, the Great," 250, 264.
Pine, Counsellor, sues Gawen
family in Star Chamber, 197.
Plate and jewels at Glastonbury,
5i> 59-
Plato, forgotten in the West, 121;
preferred to Aristotle by early
Christian Fathers, 147.
1'legmund, Archbishop, 306.
Pole, Cardinal, 59, 87, 89.
Pollard, 22; hands over plate of
Glastonbury, 54, 63 ; accompanies
Whiting on his last journey, 62;
writes about Wells jury, 64, 65,
67 ; at Reading, 94.
Pope, the, abbots staunch for, 89;
spiritual prerogatives of, 29-30;
respect for, 86; abbots died for,
106.
Porta coeli, the choir arch at Glas-
tonbury called, 20.
Possessions of parish, nature of,
owned by parishioners, 267.
Prayers, morning, 228.
Price, John, granted benefit of re-
cusancy of Mrs. Gawen, 202.
Priests, modern parish duties and
cares of, 262.
Prymer (1538), 228; morning
prayers, 230.
Quadrivium, 146.
Ralph, Archbishop of Canterbury,
refers to close relations between
Rome and Canterbury, 307.
Rates, voluntary, made to meet
debts, etc., 272.
Rawlie [Raleigh], Sir W., 198.
Reading, mock trial of Abbot Cook
at, 89; St. Giles' Church in, 82;
Grey Friars at, dissolution of, 87 ;
warden of, in Tower, SS; pro-
ceedings against, 88.
Reading Abbey, 3 ; position of, 72
teaching at, 75; Greek studies at
75 note ; strict observance at, 80
scripture lectures at, 76 seqq.
visitation of, 76 ; friends of, sus
pected, 86; suspense at, 87
spoils of, 93 ; ruins of, 93.
Records, defective nature of the,
47-
Recusancy, Protestant explanation
of, 187; Catholic explanation of,
187. '
Recusant rolls, 188 seqq.
Recusants, who they were, 189; re-
fused burial, 191.
INDEX
3-7
Reformation, the, and the poor,
252; responsible for poor laws,
252; sought not "good" but
"goods" of the Church, 254; a
rising of the rich against the poor,
255-
Remembrances, Crumwell's, 54, 56,
88; facsimile of, 58.
Renan, on value of early biblical
and philosophical translations,
150.
Renynger, James, chief organist at
Glastonbury, 108 seqq.
Resfonsions oi St. Gregory, 302-303.
Reverence, filial, 243.
Reynolds, Blessed Richard, II.
Rhodes, Hugh, Book of Native,
228; Book of Nurture, on par-
ental blessing, 242.
Rich and poor, mediaeval relations
between, 246.
Rich, St. Edmund, professor at Ox-
ford, 116; 157.
Richard, of Coventiy, Franciscan
teacher, 117.
Rievaux Abbey, 2.
Rising, early, 228.
Robert of Gloucester, on Mass
hearing, 233.
Roberts, John, 269; Walter, 269.
Roe, Nicholas, 10.
Rogers, Thorold, Mr., on condi-
tion of labourers before Reforma-
tion, 251; traces poor laws to
suppression of monasteries, 254;
on guilds, 259.
Rome, Henry VIII throws off spi-
ritual supremacy of, 27 ; Abbot
Whiting's loyalty to, 68; Abbot
Cook's last testimony to love for,
91; Abbot Beche on supremacy
of, 102.
Roper, Margery, presents gift to
Church, 270.
Roses, Wars of the, 8; effect of,
24.
Rowse, Robert, a witness against
Abbot Beche, 101.
Rubruquis, William de, Franciscan,
Asian traveller, 153.
Rugg, John, 60 note, 81 ; formerly
prebendary of Chichester, 92 note;
proceedings against, 88; death
of, 90, 92; on king's supreme
headship, 92 note.
Saint-Cher, Hugh de, Cardinal,
corrects Bible, 125-126, 131.
Saint Osyth's, Chancellor Audeley
pleads for, 100.
Salisbury, John of, on the spirit of
thirteenth century, 164.
Sander, Nicholas, on condemnation
of abbots, 57 ; interpolation of his
work on The Schism, 60 note.
" Savenapes," 169.
Scholarship, English biblical, 1 14.
Scholarship, English, in thirteenth
century, 141 seqq.
School of Virtue, 228.
Schools, at Glastonbury, 9 seqq.,
108 seqq.; at Reading, 75 seqq.
Scot, Michael, Latin, Hebrew, and
Arabic scholar, 121; account of,
155 se'l'l-
Seager, School of Virtue, on be-
haviour at Mass, 234.
Selby Abbey, 3.
Sellyng, William, Prior of Canter-
bury, 75 note.
Selwood, Abbot John, 10; death
of, 12.
Serbopoulos, John, Greek copyist
at Reading, 75 note.
Shakespeare's Friar Lawrence, 1 52.
Sharpe, Dr., ascribes pauperism
to suppression of monasteries,
253-
328
INDEX
Sharpham manor house, arrest of
Abbot Whiting at, 51; remains
of the grange at, 52.
Shaxton, Bishop of Salisbury, his
Lutheran views, 79; his action
in regard to Reading, 76 seqq. ;
his prison, 86.
Sherwood, Dr., tomb of, in Bath
Abbey, 216.
Sherwood, Dr. John, recusant phy-
sician in Bath, 217.
Sherwood, Dr. Ruben, of Bath, en-
tertains Feckenham, 216.
Shrewsbury Abbey, 3.
Sigfrid, apostle of Norway, 7.
Silvester, Pope, St., British bishops
to, 91 note.
Simmons, Canon, on Mass hearing
in mediaeval days, 232, 233.
Singing school at Glastonbury, 108
seqq.
Somerset, insurgents in, 12; pun-
ishment of, 15; wrecking of
monasteries in, 50.
Sotelte, explanation of, 183.
Spices, use of and names of, 169.
Spies of Crumwell, 86 ; at Col-
chester, 97, 99.
Stafford, Edward, Duke of Buck-
ingham, 1 1 note.
Stafford, John, Bishop of Bath and
Wells, menu for installation ban-
quet of, 181 seqq.; his sotelte or
subtlety, 184.
Stanbrook Abbey, founded at Cam-
brai, 190.
Standish, Bishop of St. Asaph,
91.
Stanley, Dean, on restoration of
Westminster Abbey to Bene-
dictines, 210.
Stapeldon, Bishop of Exeter, 8.
Star Chamber proceedings against
Gawen family, 196 seqq.
State supplants parents in training
children, 226.
Stokesley, Bishop, 29; loyal to
papal authority, 91.
Stourton, Lord, his connection with
Glastonbury and Benedictine
Order, 44 and tiote.
Stowe, relates imprisonment of
bishops and others, 213.
Stratford, Archbishop, on rights of
the poor, 248.
Stubbs, Bishop, on the tithes of the
poor, 248 ; on class distinctions,
250-251.
Suppression of monasteries, legal
aspect of, 45 ; no law for any
general, 45.
Supremacy, the royal, oath of, 27 ;
as tendered to monasteries, 32;
method of regarding it, 29 ; used
to force surrender, 49; abbots
condemned for refusing, 57, 90
seqq. ; view taken at Reading
concerning, 80; the touchstone
of loyalty, 97; Abbot Beche
against, 102.
Surrender, the forced, of monas-
teries, 46.
Syagrus, Bishop of Autun, 291.
Sydenham, John, 94.
Symonds, Mr., on scholarship of
Friars, 151.
Taunton, Perkin Warbeck at, 13;
Franciscan convent at, 9 note ;
St. Margaret's Spital at, 14.
Taunton, Dom John, Precentor of
Glastonbury, 19.
Taunton, Rev. E. L. (late), 204.
Templum Domini, 162.
Theodore, Archbishop, 3.
Theodoret, 161.
Thietmar, on Saxon fidelity to
Roman See, 281.
INDEX
329
Thimbleby family, persecuted by
Felton, 195.
Thomas, St., of Aquin, 117; on
right use of riches, 250.
Thomas Wallensis, 157.
Thome, John, the martyr, treasurer
of the church at Glastonbury, 53,
67, 70.
Tintern Abbey, 2.
Tithing man, 198.
Tongue, guard of, 237.
Tor hill, Glastonbury, 1; the scene
of martyrdom of Abbot Whiting,
69.
Tower, the, Abbot Whiting sent to,
52; examinations in, 54; Abbot
Cook in, 88 ; prisoners in, 88 ;
condemnation of abbots in, 56;
secret tribunal in, 60; Abbot
Beche in, 101.
Trajan, St. Gregory said to deliver
him from hell, 285-286.
Treason, suppression of monasteries
for supposed, 46, 87; meaning
of, in Tudor times, 68.
Tregonwell, John, 51 note.
Tutton, John, 42.
Tychborne, Nich., account of death
and burial of, 190 seqq.
Tymwell, Anne, of Hayne, gift of, to
Church, 273.
Tymwell, Joan, of Hayne, gift of, to
Church, 273.
Tyssington, John, 161.
Usher, Archbishop, and Letters of
St. Ignatius, 161.
Vercellone, on Roger Bacon's re-
vision of Bible, 124-125; on
various correcto ria, 136 seqq.
Visitation of religious houses, the,
37-
Vulgate, histoiy of, 123.
Waldegrave, Katherine, marries
Thomas Gawen, 193.
Wallensis, Thomas, Roger Bacon's
master, 116.
Wallis, John, Franciscan teacher,
117.
Warham, Archbishop, his view as
to papal authority, 91.
Wasyn, John, election of, as Abbot
of Glastonbury, 12.
Watson, Bishop, suspected of in-
fluencing consciences, 221.
Watts, John, monk of Glastonbury,
43-
Weld, the Family of, 112.
Wells, 71; Henry VII visits, 13;
Cathedral of, 34; jury assembled
at, 63 ; Abbot Whiting arrives at,
65; bishop's palace at, 66.
Wells, two dinners at, in fifteenth
century, 166 seqq.
Westminster Abbey, position of,
34; crowning place of kings, 3;
restored to Benedictines, 210;
dispersal of community of, 213.
Wheatley, South, chauntries and
guilds in, 258.
Whitby, source of most ancient Life
of St. Gregory, 283.
White, Bishop, preaches at Queen
Mary's funeral, 212.
Whiting, Richard, Abbot of Glas-
tonbury, early life of, S seqq.;
birthplace of, 9; at Glastonbury
school, 10; at Cambridge, II,
17; ordination of, 16; holds
office as chamberlain, 17; his
election as abbot, ijseqq.; blessed
as abbot, 22 ; simple character of
his life, 34 seqq. ; his character,
19, 21; his bed, 35; his signa-
ture, 112; character of his letters,
41; his life at home, 42, 43; his
garden, 44; king's quarrel with,
53°
INDEX
47; arrest of, 51; effects ran-
sacked for evidence, 52; sent to
Tower, 52 ; supposed treasons
°f> 53» 54 5 real offences of, 54;
examinations in Tower, 54, 56;
his condemnation for treason,
56, 60; design to lower him, 60;
indignities offered to him, 61,
66; his last journey, 61; date of
martyrdom, 67 and note ; place of
martyrdom, 69 note.
Whitton, 112.
Whytford, Richard, We?-ke for
Housholders, 229 ; rules for early
rising and prayers, 229; on be-
haviour at Mass, 234; suggests
reading at meals, 235; on guard
of the tongue, 237 ; on parental
blessing, 242.
Wilfrid, Roger. See James Roger.
William, monk of St. Denis in
Paris, Eastern traveller and
student, 144.
William the Breton. See Breton,
148.
William the Conqueror heard Mass
daily, 233.
Williams, Sir John, 51 note.
Willoughby, Mr., minister, refuses
burial to recusants, 200.
Wilton Abbey, 9.
Winchelsey, Archbishop, regulates
for duties of parishioners, 269.
Winchester, 3; Benedictine Nuns
at, ill; ancient Catholic ceme-
tery at, 192.
Wodeford, William, 161.
Wolsey, Cardinal, makes choice of
Abbot Whiting, 18; his care for
religious observance, 22.
Wood, Anthony a, on Feckenham,
206-207.
Worde, Wynkyn de, Boke of
Kervynge, 232.
Work, 238.
W'right, Elizabeth, 270.
Wright, Sir John, presents vest-
ments to Leverton Church, 270.
Wright, William, 270.
Wrington, 9.
Wulfric, brother to St. Dunstan, 7.
Wyndham family purchase Nor-
rington Estate of Gawens, 202.
Yatton, churchwardens sell altar
plate to pay debts, 278.
York, See of, founded by St. Gregory,
304-
Young Children's Book, 230; on
Mass hearing, 233.
Youths, Saxon, in market-place of
Rome, legend of, 288.
CHISWICK PRESS: PRINTED BY CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.
TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON.
By the same Author.
Sixth Edition, with new Preface. Demy %vo, Ss. 6d. net.
HENRY VIII
AND THE
ENGLISH MONASTERIES
BY
ABBOT GASOUET, D.D.
" As to the solid value of this great book there is absolutely no difference
of opinion among competent critics, and the scrupulous moderation which
always characterises the learned Abbot's statement of a case, and the total
absence of controversial bitterness, renders all his work in the field of
history acceptable even to those who differ the most widely from his con-
clusions. We may say of this book, as we said of another by the same author,
that of such historians as Abbot Gasquet the cause of historic truth can never
have too many." — Pall Mall Gazette.
"This 'cheaper revised popular edition' of what is now a standard and
indispensable work contains a new preface, in which Abbot Gasquet ex-
plains and holds to the position he at first adopted, and which succeeding
investigation only proves more and more fully to be just and historically
correct. " — Academy.
"The work of Abbot Gasquet on the dissolution of the English
Monasteries is so well known and so widely appreciated that little may
be said to commend a new and cheaper edition. The criticism of nearly
twenty years has served only to show that the views, expressed by the
author in the original edition, are shared by every candid student of the
events of that period." — Scottish Historical Review.
LONDON: GEORGE BELL AND SONS
York House, Portugal Street, W.C.
Fourth Edition, Revised. Crotvn 8vo, 6s. net.
THE EVE OF
THE REFORMATION
STUDIES IN THE RELIGIOUS LIFE AND THOUGHT
OF THE ENGLISH PEOPLE IN THE PERIOD
PRECEDING THE REJECTION OF THE
ROMAN JURISDICTION BY
HENRY VIII
BY
ABBOT GASOUET, D.D.
" Dr. Gasquet has produced a book which will set many men thinking.
He has done an excellent piece of work, and has offered to students of
history a highly interesting problem. He writes as usual in a lucid and
attractive style. The controversial element is so subordinated to the
scholarly setting forth of simple facts and the adroit marshalling of evidence,
that one might read the volume through without being tempted to ask
what the author's creed is, or whether he has any, and when one gets to the
end one is inclined to wish that there were a little more." — Athenaiim.
"Dom Gasquet is one of the few writers on controversial subjects whom
it is always a pleasure to read, perhaps because he never writes in a con-
troversial spirit, nor, so far as appears, for a controversial end. . . . He
has done good service to the cause of historical truth by insisting that the
Church in England on the eve of the Reformation was not so hopelessly
corrupt as the fancy of the popular Protestant has painted it." — Guardian.
" Even when one differs from Dr. Gasquet's conclusions, there is no
gainsaying his learning, acuteness, and, what is best in a controversialist,
his desire to be fair. All these virtues are present in ' The Eve of the
Reformation.' . . . Future historians must meet seriously his sustained
argument that when the great change took place ' so far from the Church
being a merely effete or corrupt agency in the commonwealth, it was an
active power for good in a very wide sense.' " — Times.
LONDON : GEORGE BELL AND SONS
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Demy Svo, 12s. net.
HENRY THE THIRD AND
THE CHURCH
A STUDY OF HIS ECCLESIASTICAL POLICY
AND OF THE RELATIONS BETWEEN
ENGLAND AND ROME
BY
ABBOT GASQUET, D.D.
"It is written with no desire to defend the Papacy from the charges
which were made even by the faithful at the time, and it may fairly claim
to represent an unbiassed survey of the evidence. He has gone carefully
through a large body of evidence which English historians have too much
neglected, and that his investigations serve rather to confirm than to upset
generally received opinions is, perhaps, additional reason for gratitude.
I lis book will be indispensable to the student of the reign of Henry III." —
Times.
" This substantial book is beyond doubt a valuable study of the ecclesi-
astical policy of Henry III and his advisers, and of the relations between
England and Rome. The whole of the chapters on this exceptionally
interesting half-century of English history, when the relations of Church
and State were sorely tried, are written in a spirit of admirable calmness
and fairness of citation, nothing apparently of importance being kept back
on one side or the other of the questions that come under discussion. Dr.
Gasquet's endeavour has been to state the facts as far as possible in the
actual language of the time, or in the statements of such chroniclers as
Matthew Paris. The result of this honest endeavour is a trustworthy con-
tribution to the story of this long reign on the very points upon which most
historians are either silent or provokingly brief." — Athenautn.
" In this, his latest work, Abbot Gasquet, breaking away from the epoch
of the Reformation upon which his researches have shed so much light,
has given us a considerable contribution to the study of one of the most
difficult reigns in our history. . . . We trust we have said enough to send
our readers to the book itself and to indicate with what scrupulous com-
pleteness and painstaking veracity the facts are set forth, ami with what
soberness and impartiality Abbot Gasquet deals out his verdict." — Tablet.
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3
Second Edition, Crown Svo, 6s. net.
THE BLACK DEATH
OF 1348 AND 1349
BY
ABBOT GASQUET, D.D.
" By far the most interesting and exhaustive record to be found of this
most appalling visitation." — Morning Post.
"A scholarly monograph upon the Great Pestilence . . . which not only
brings the history of the plague up to date, but tells us all that is likely to
be known of the subject lor a considerable time to come.'' — Alhenceum.
"The gratitude of all students of English history is due to Dr. Gasquet
for this painfully interesting narrative of a calamity, the greatness of which
has not hitherto been sufficiently recognized. . . . We can only urge upon
all students of the history of the English Church to read carefully this im-
portant work. Every page bears evidence of his caution, and his con-
clusions are borne out by his facts." — Guardian.
Second Edition, Crown Svo, 6s. net.
THE OLD ENGLISH BIBLE
AND OTHER ESSAYS
BY-
ABBOT GASQUET, D.D.
Contents: Notes on Mediaeval Monastic Libraries — The Monastic
Scriptorium — A Forgotten English Preacher — The Pre-Keformation Eng-
lish Bible — Religious Instruction in England during the Fourteenth and
Fifteenth Centuries — A Royal Christmas in the Fifteenth Century — The
Canterbury Claustral School in the Fifteenth Century — The Note-Books of
William Worcester, a fifteenth-century Antiquary — Hampshire Recusants
in the time of Queen Elizabeth.
LONDON : GEORGE BELL AND SONS
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