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• History of the Conquest of England By the Normans.
• Book VIII.: From the Battle of the Standard to the Insurrection of the Poitevins and Bretons Against Henry II. 1137—1189.
• Book IX.: From the Origin of the Quarrel Between King Henry II. And Archbishop Thomas Beket, to the Murder of the Archbishop. 1160—1171.
• Book X.: From the Invasion of Ireland By the Normans Established In England to the Death of Henry II. 1171—1189.
• Book XI.: From the Accession of King Richard I. To the Execution of the Saxon, William Longbeard. 1190—1196.
• Conclusion.
• I.: The Continental Normans and Bretons; the Angevins and the Populations of Southern Gaul.
• II.: The Inhabitants of Wales.
• III.: The Scots.
• IV.: The Native Irish and the Anglo-norman Irish.
• V.: The Anglo-normans and the English By Race.
• Magna Charta.
• Charta Forestæ. Made At Westminster, 10 Th Feb., Anno 9 Hen. III. Ad 1225, and Confirmed Anno 28 Edw. I. Ad 1299.
• Appendix.
• No. I.: Cruelties Exercised By the Norman-lords In Their Castles. 1
• No. II. (page 51.): War Song of the Troubadour Bertrand De Born, Seigneur De Hautefort. 1
• No. III. (page 139.): History of the Marriage of Gilbert Beket, Father of Archbishop Thomas; Fragment of a Life of the Archbishop, By a Contemporary. 3
• No. IV. (page 139.): Old Ballad On the Captivity and Marriage of Gilbert Beket. 1
• No. V. (page 139.): Particulars of the Worldly Life of Thomas Becket, Before His Elevation to the Bishopric, From William Fitzstephen, His Secretary. 1
• No. VI. (page 139.): Letter of John of Salisbury to Becket, Respecting the Views of the King of France, the Earl of Flanders, and the Court of Rome, Concerning Him.
• No. VII. (page 139.): Letter Relative to the Intrigues of Henry II. At the Court of Rome, and the Mission of Two Legates Into France. 1 ( Ad 1169.)
• No. VIII. (page 139.): Letter Op Thomas Beket to Cardinal Albert, On the Conduct of the Court of Rome Towards Him. 1 ( Ad 1170.)
• No. IX. (page 139.): Letter From Thomas Beket’s Companions In Exile to Cardinal Albert, On the Injustice of the Court of Rome, and the Conduct of the Cardinals Towards Them. 1 ( Ad 1170.)
• No. X. (page 139.): Letter of John of Salisbury On the Landing of Thomas Beket, and His Reception In England. 1 ( Ad 1170.)
• No. XI. (page 139.): Extract From a Letter of John of Salisbury, Relative to the Murder of Thomas Beket. 1 ( Ad 1171.)
• No. XII. (page 139.): Narrative of the Murder of Thomas Beket, By Edward Grim, Who Was Wounded While Endeavouring to Defend Him. 1
• No. XIII. (page 139.): Letter From King Louis VII. To Pope Alexander III., Demanding Vengeance Against the Murderers of Thomas Beket. 1 ( Ad 1171.)
• No. XIV. (page 139.): Letter From Thibault, Earl of Blois, to Pope Alexander III., On the Murder of Thomas Beket. 2 ( Ad 1171.)
• No. XV. (page 139.): Letter In Which the Bishop of Lisieux, On the Part of All the Prelates of Normandy, Relates to the Pope the Conduct of Henry II. After the Murder of Thomas Beket. 1 ( Ad 1171.)
• No. XVI. (page 139.): Letter From Henry II. To the Pope, On the Subject of the Murder of Thomas Beket. 1 ( Ad 1171.)
• No. XVII. (page 139.): Letter From Henry II. To the Pope, On the Subject of the Rebellion of His Sons. 1 ( Ad 1173.)
• No. XVIII. (page 167.): Political Poems of Bertrand De Born, Preceded By the Historical Notices Given In the Manuscripts At the Head of Each of the Productions of This Troubadour.
• No. XIX. (page 220.): Sirvente of Richard Cœur-de-lion On His Captivity. 1
• No. XX. (page 223.): The King’s Disguise, and Friendship With Robin Hood. 2
• No. XXI. (page 224.): The Birth of Robin Hood. 1
• No. XXII. (page 237.): Sirvente of Bertrand De Born to Induce the Kings of France and England to Go to War. 1
• No. XXIII. (page 237.): Another Sirvente of Bertrand De Born, to the Same Purpose. 1
• No. XXIV. (page 240.): Sirvente of the Dauphin of Auvergne On His Quarrel With the King of England. 1
• No. XXV. (page 280.): Treaty of Alliance Between Lewellyn Ap-griffith, King of North Wales, With the King of France, Philip-le-hardi. 1
• No. XXVI. (page 282.): List of the Company of Yvain of Wales. 1
• No. XXVII. (page 282.): List of the Company of John Wynn. 1
• No. XXVIII. (page 282.): Receipt Given By Robin-ap-llwydin, and List of His Company. 1
• No. XXIX. (page 282.): List of the Company of Edward-ap-owen. 1
• No. XXX. (page 282.): List of the Company of Owen-ap Griffith, and Receipt Given Him. 1
• No. XXXI. (page 283.): Agreement of Yvain De Galles With King Charles V. For a Sum of 300,000 Francs D’or, and Alliance Made Between Them and Their Subjects. 2
• No. XXXII. (page 287.): Letter From Owen Glendowr, Prince of Wales, to the King of France, Charles VI. 1
• No. XXXIII. (page 303.): The Souters of Selkirk At the Battle of Flodden Field, a Scottish Ballad of the Sixteenth Century.
• No. XXXIV. (page 316.): The Battle of Bothwell Bridge—a Scottish

Charta forestæ.

Made at Westminster, 10th Feb., Anno 9 Hen. III. ad 1225, and confirmed Anno 28 Edw. I. ad 1299.

“Henry, by the grace of God, King of England, Lord of Ireland, Duke of Normandy and of Guyan, &c. as in the beginning of the Great Charter. the possessors of estates, was granted by Henry III. to the men of Norman race. But ere many years had elapsed, the new king, son of a Poitevin woman, who had again married in her own country, sent for and welcomed his uterine brothers, and many other men, who came, as in the time of king John, to seek their fortune in England. Family affection, and the easy, agreeable humour of the new Poitevin emigrants, had the same influence upon Henry III. as upon his predecessor; the great offices of the court, and the civil, military and ecclesiastical dignities, were once more heaped upon men born abroad. After the Poitevins flocked in the Provençals, because king Henry had married a daughter of the count of Provence; and after them, came Savoyards, Piedmontese, and Italians, distant relations or protégés of the queen, all attracted by the hope of wealth and advancement. Most of them attained their object, and the alarm of a new invasion of foreigners spread as rapidly and excited as much indignation as in the preceding reign. In the public complaints on the subject, the terms formerly employed by the Saxon writers, after the conquest, were repeated; it was said that, to obtain favour and fortune in England, it was only necessary not to be English.1

A Poitevin, named Pierre Desroches, the favourite minister and confident of the king, when he was called upon to observe the charter of king John and the laws of England, was wont to reply: “I am no Englishman, to know aught of these charters or these laws.”1 The confederation of the barons and burghers was renewed in an assembly held in London, at which the principal citizens swore to will all that the barons should will, and to adhere firmly to their laws. Shortly afterwards, most of the bishops, earls, barons, and knights of England, having held a council at Oxford, leagued together for the execution of the charters and the expulsion of the foreigners, by a solemn treaty, drawn up in French, and containing the following passage: “We make known to all, that we have sworn upon the holy gospel, and are bound together by this oath, and promise in good faith that each and all of us will aid one another against all men; and if any go counter to this, we shall hold him our mortal foe.”2

Singularly enough, the army assembled on this occasion to destroy the foreign influence, was commanded by a foreigner, Simon de Montfort, a Frenchman by birth, and brother-in-law of the king.3 His father had acquired great military reputation and immense wealth in the crusades against the Albigenses, and he himself was not deficient either in talent or in political skill. As is almost ever the case with men who throw themselves into a party from which their interest and position would seem naturally to exclude them, he displayed more activity and determination in the struggle against Henry III. than the Norman Robert Fitz-Walter had shown in the first civil war. A stranger to the Anglo-Norman aristocracy, he seems to have had much less repugnance than they to fraternize with men of English descent; and it was he who, for the first time since the conquest, summoned the commons to deliberate on public affairs, with the bishops, barons, and knights of England.

War thus commenced once more between the men born on English soil, and the foreigners who held offices and lordships there. The Poitevins and the Provençals were those whose expulsion was most ardently pursued. It was more peculiarly against the near relations of the king and queen, such as Guillaume de Valence and Pierre de Savoie, that the hatred of all classes of the population was directed;1 for the native English embraced with renewed ardour the cause of the barons, and a singular monument of this alliance subsists in a popular ballad on the taking of Richard, the king’s brother, and emperor elect of Germany. This ballad is the first historical document that exhibits the mixture of the Saxon and French languages, though the mixture, as yet, is but a sort of patchwork, and not a regular fusion, like that which later gave birth to modern English.2

After several victories gained over the king’s party, Simon de Montfort was killed in a battle, and the ancient patriotic superstition of the people was awakened in his favour. As an enemy to the foreigner, and, in the words of a contemporary, defender of the rights of legitimate property, he was honoured with the same title that popular gratitude had assigned to those who, in the time of the Norman invasion, sacrificed themselves in the defence of the country. Like them, Simon received the title of defender of the native people; it was denounced as false and wicked to call him traitor and rebel;3 and, in common with Thomas Beket, he was proclaimed saint and martyr.4 The leader of the army of the barons against Henry III. was the last man in whose favour was manifested this disposition to confound together the two enthusiasms of religion and of politics; a disposition peculiar to the English race, and which was not shared by the Anglo-Normans; for although Simon de Montfort had done far more for them than for the citizens and serfs of England, they did not sanction the beatification accorded him by the latter, and left the poor country people to visit alone the tomb of the new martyr, and seek miracles there.1 Such miracles were not wanting, as we learn from various legends; but as the aristocracy gave no encouragement to the popular superstition, the miracles were soon lost sight of.2

Notwithstanding the esteem which Simon de Montfort had manifested towards the men of Saxon origin, an enormous distance still separated them from the sons of the Normans. The chief chaplain of the army of the barons, Robert Grosse-Tête, bishop of Lincoln, one of the most ardent promoters of the war against the king, reckoned but two languages in England, Latin for the learned, and French for the unlearned; it was in the latter tongue that, in his old age, he wrote books of piety for the use of the laity, neglecting altogether the English language and those who spoke it.3 The poets of the same period, even the English by birth, composed their verses in French when they sought honour and profit from them. It was only the singers of ballads and romances for the burghers and peasants, who used the pure English, or the mixed Anglo-French language, that was the ordinary means of communication between the higher and lower classes. This intermediate idiom, the gradual formation of which was a necessary result of the conquest, was at first current in the towns where the two races were more mingled together, and where the inequality of conditions was less than in the country. Here it insensibly replaced the Saxon tongue, which, now only spoken by the poorest and rudest classes of the nation, fell as much beneath the new Anglo-Norman idiom as this was beneath the French, the language of the court, of the baronage, and of all who had any pretensions to refinement of manners.4

The rich citizens of the great towns, and more especially those of London, sought, from interest or vanity, by Frenchisizing their language more or less skilfully, to imitate the nobles and approach nearer to them; they thus early acquired the habit of saluting each other by the title of sire, and even of styling themselves barons.

The citizens of Dover, Romney, Sandwich, Hythe, and Hastings, towns of extensive commerce, which were then, as they still are, called the cinque ports, or the five ports of England par excellence, assumed, in imitation of the Londoners, the title of Norman nobility, using it corporately in their municipal acts, and individually in their private relations. But the genuine Norman barons considered this pretension outrecuidente. “It is enough to make one sick,” they said, “to hear a villein call himself a baron.”1 When the sons of the citizens arranged a tournament of their own, in some field of the suburbs, the seigneurs would send their valets and grooms to disperse them, with the intimation that skilled feats of arms did not appertain to rustics, and mealmen, and soap-sellers, such as they.2

Despite this indignation of the sons of the conquerors at the resistless movement which tended to approximate to them the richest portion of the conquered population, this movement was sensibly manifested during the fourteenth century, in the towns upon which royal charters had conferred the right of substituting magistrates of their own election for the seigneural viscounts and bailiffs. In these corporate towns, the burghers, strong in their municipal organization, commanded far more respect than the inhabitants of the petty towns and hamlets, which remained immediately subject to royal authority; but a long time elapsed ere that authority paid to the citizens individually the same consideration and respect as to the body of which they were members. The magistrates of the city of London, under the reign of Edward III., admitted to the royal feasts, already participated in that respect for established authority which distinguished the Anglo-Norman race; but the same king who entertained, at the third table from his own, the lord mayor and aldermen, treated almost as a serf of the conquest every London citizen, who, neither knight nor squire, exercised any trade or mechanical art. If, for example, he desired to embellish his palace, or to signalize himself by decorating a church, instead of engaging the best painters of the city to come and work for a given sum, he issued to his master-architect an order in the following terms: “Know, that we have charged our friend, William of Walsingham, to take from our city of London as many painters as he shall need, to set them to work in our pay, and to keep them as long as they are needed; if any be refractory, let him be arrested and kept in one of our prisons, there to abide until further orders.”1 Again, if the king conceived a fancy for music and singing after his dinner, he, in like manner, sent forth officers of his palace to bring before him the best players and singers they could find, in London or the suburbs, without any reference whatever to their own inclinations.2 And thus, too, on the eve of departure for the French wars, we find king Edward requiring from his chief engineer twelve hundred stoneballs for his war-machines, and authorising him to take stonemasons and other artisans, wherever he could find them, to labour in the quarries, under penalty of imprisonment.3

Such was still, at the end of the fourteenth century, the condition of those whom several historians of the time call the villains of London: and as to the country villains, whom the Normans, Frenchisizing the old Saxon names, called bondes, cotiers, or cotagers, their personal sufferings were far greater than those of the burghers, and without any compensation; for they had no magistrates of their own choice, and among themselves there was no one to whom they gave the title of sire or lord.4 Unlike the inhabitants of the towns, their servitude was aggravated by the regularisation of their relations with the seigneurs of the manors to which they belonged; the ancient right of conquest was subdivided into a host of rights, less violent in appearance, but which involved the class of men subject to them in numberless shackles. Travellers of the fourteenth century express their astonishment at the multitude of serfs they saw in England, and at the extreme hardness of their condition in that country,5 compared with what it was on the continent, and even in France. The word bondage conveyed, at this period, the last degree of social misery; yet this word, to which the conquest had communicated such a meaning, was merely a simple derivative from the Anglo-Danish bond, which, before the invasion of the Normans, signified a free cultivator and father of a family living in the country; and it is in this sense that it was joined with the Saxon word hus, to indicate a head of a house, husbond, or husband, in modern English orthography.1

Towards the year 1381, all those in England who were called bonds, that is to say, all the cultivators, were serfs of body and goods, obliged to pay heavy aids for the small portion of land which supported their family, and unable to quit this portion of land without the consent of the lords, whose tillage, gardening, and cartage of every kind, they were compelled to perform gratuitously. The lord might sell them with their house, their oxen, their tools, their children, and their posterity, as is thus expressed in the deeds: “Know that I have sold such a one, my naif (nativum meum), and all his progeny, born or to be born.”2 Resentment of the misery caused by the oppression of the noble families, combined with an almost entire oblivion of the events which had elevated these families, whose members no longer distinguished themselves by the name of Normans, but by the term gentlemen, had led the peasants of England to contemplate the idea of the injustice of servitude in itself, independently of its historical origin.

In the southern counties, whose population was more numerous, and especially in Kent, the inhabitants of which had preserved a vague tradition of a treaty concluded between themselves and William the Conqueror for the maintenance of their ancient rights and liberties,3 great symptoms of popular agitation appeared in the commencement of the reign of Richard II. It was a time of excessive expense with the court and all the gentlemen, on account of the wars in France, which all attended at their own cost, and wherein each vied with the other in the magnificence of his train and his armour. The proprietors of the lordships and manors overwhelmed their farmers and serfs with taxes and exactions, alleging, for every fresh demand, the necessity of going to fight the French on their own ground, in order to prevent their making a descent upon England. But the peasants said: “We are taxed to aid the knights and squires of the country to defend their heritages; we are their slaves, the sheep from whom they shear the wool; all things considered, if England were conquered, we should lose much less than they.”1

These and similar thoughts, murmuringly exchanged on the road, when the serfs of the same or of neighbouring domains met each other on their return from labour, became, after awhile, the theme of earnest speeches, pronounced in a sort of clubs, where they collected in the evening.2 Some of the orators were priests, and they derived from the Bible their arguments against the social order of the period. “Good people,” they said, “things may not go on in England, and shall not, until there be no more villains or gentlemen among us, but we be all equal, and the lords no more masters than we. Where is their greater worth, that they should hold us in serfage? We all come from the same father and mother, Adam and Eve. They are clothed in fine velvet and satin, lined with ermine and minever; they have meat, and spices, and good wines; we, the refuse of the straw, and for drink, water. They have ease and fine mansions, we pain and hard labour, the rain and the wind, in the open fields.” Hereupon the whole assembly would exclaim tumultuously: “There shall be no more serfs; we will no longer be treated as beasts; if we work for the lords, it shall be for pay.”3 These meetings, held in many parts of Kent and Essex, were secretly organized, and sent deputies into the neighbouring counties to seek the counsel and aid of men of the same class and opinion.4 A great association was thus formed for the purpose of forcing the gentlemen to renounce their privileges. A remarkable feature of the confederation is, that written pamphlets, in the form of letters, were circulated throughout the villages, recommending to the associates, in mysterious and proverbial terms, perseverance and discretion. These productions, several of which have been preserved by a contemporary author, are written in a purer English, that is to say, less mixed up with French, than are other pieces of the same period, destined for the amusement of the rich citizens. Except as facts, however, these pamphlets of the fourteenth century have nothing curious about them; the most significant of them is a letter addressed to the country people by a priest, named John Ball, which contains the following passages: “John Ball greeteth you all well, and doth give you to understand he hath rung your bell. Now right and might, will and skill; God speed every idle one; stand manfully together in truth and helping. If the end be well, then is all well.”1 Notwithstanding the distance which then separated the condition of the peasants from that of the citizens, and more especially from that of the London citizens, the latter, it would appear, entered into close communication with the serfs of Essex, and even promised to open the gates of the city to them, and to admit them without opposition, if they would come in a body to make their demands to king Richard.2 This king had just entered his sixteenth year, and the peasants, full of simple good faith, and a conviction in the justice of their cause, imagined that he would enfranchise them all in a legal manner, without their needing to resort to violence. It was the constant theme of their conversations: “Let us go to the king, who is young, and show him our servitude; let us go together, and when he shall see us, he will grant us his grace of his own accord; if not, we will use other means.”3 The association formed round London was rapidly extending, when an unforeseen incident, in compelling the associates to act before they had attained sufficient strength and organization, destroyed their hopes, and left to the progress of European civilization the gradual abolition of servitude in England.

In the year 1381, the necessities of the government, arising from the prosecution of the war and the luxury of the court, occasioned the levy of a poll-tax of twelvepence for every person, of whatever station, who had passed the age of fifteen. The collection of this tax not having produced as much as had been expected, commissioners were sent to inquire into the subject. In their examination of the noble and rich, they were courteous and considerate, but towards the lower classes they were excessively rigorous and insolent. In several villages of Essex, they went so far as an attempt to ascertain the age of young girls in an indecent manner. The indignation caused by these outrages created an insurrection, headed by a tiler, named Walter, or familiarly Wat, and surnamed, from his trade, Tyler. This movement created others, in Sussex, Bedfordshire, and Kent, of which the priest, John Ball, and one Jack Straw were appointed leaders.1 The three chiefs and their band, augmented on its march by all the labourers and serfs it met, proceeded towards London “to see the king,” said the simpler among the insurgents, who expected everything from the mere interview. They marched, armed with iron-tipped staves, and rusty swords and axes, in disorder, but not furious, singing political songs, two verses of which have been preserved:

• When Adam delved and Eve span,
• Who was then the gentleman?

They plundered no one on their way, but, on the contrary, paid scrupulously for all they needed.2 The Kentish men went first to Canterbury to seize the archbishop, who was also chancellor of England; not finding him there, they continued their march, destroying the houses of the courtiers and those of the lawyers who had conducted suits brought against serfs by the nobles. They also carried off several persons whom they kept as hostages; among others a knight and his two sons; they halted on Blackheath, where they entrenched themselves in a kind of camp. They then proposed to the knight whom they had brought with them, to go as messenger from them to the king, who on the news of the insurrection had withdrawn to the Tower of London. The knight dared not refuse; taking a boat, he proceeded to the Tower, and kneeling before the king: “Most dread lord,” he said, “deign to receive without displeasure the message I am fain to bring; for, dear lord, it is by force I come.” “Deliver your message,” answered the king; “I will hold you excused.” “Sire, the commons of your kingdom intreat you to come and speak with them; they will see no one but yourself; have no fear for your safety, for they will do you no evil, and will always hold you their king; they will show you, they say, many things it is necessary for you to know, and which they have not charged me to tell you; but, dear lord, deign to give me an answer, that they may know I have been with you, for they hold my children as hostages.” The king having consulted with his advisers, said “that if on the following morning the peasants would come as far as Rotherhithe, he would meet them, and speak with them.” This answer greatly delighted them. They passed the night in the open air as well as they could, for they were nearly sixty thousand in number, and most of them fasted, for want of food.1

Next day, the 12th of June, the king heard mass in the Tower; and then, despite the entreaties of the archbishop of Canterbury, who urged him not to compromise himself with shoeless vagabonds,2 he proceeded in a barge, accompanied by some knights, to the opposite shore, where about ten thousand men from the camp at Blackheath had collected. When they saw the barge approach, “they,” says Froissart, “set up shouts and cries as if all the devils from hell had come in their company,” which so terrified the king’s escort that they intreated him not to land, and kept the barge at a distance from the bank. “What would you have?” said the king to the insurgents: “I am here to speak with you.” “Land, and we will show you more readily what we would have.” The earl of Salisbury, answering for the king, said: “Sirs, you are not in fit order for the king to come to you;” and the barge returned to the Tower. The insurgents went back to Blackheath, to tell their fellows what had occurred, and there was now but one cry among them: “To London, to London, let us march upon London.”3

They marched accordingly to London, destroying several manor-houses on their way, but without plundering them of anything: arrived at London-bridge, they found the gates closed; they demanded admission, and urged the keepers not to drive them to use violence. The mayor, William Walworth, a man of English origin, as his name indicates, wishing to ingratiate himself with the king and the gentry, was at first resolved to keep the gates shut, and to post armed men on the bridge to stop the peasants; but the citizens, especially those of the middle and lower classes, so decidedly opposed this project, that he was fain to renounce it. “Why,” said they, “why are we not to admit these good folk? they are our people, and whatever they do is for us.”1 The gate was opened, and the insurgents, over-running the city, distributed themselves among the houses in search of food, which every one readily gave them, from good will or from fear.

Those who were first satisfied, hastened to the palace of the duke of Lancaster, called the Savoy, and set fire to it, out of hatred to this lord, the king’s uncle, who had recently taken an active part in the administration of public affairs. They burned all his valuable furniture, without appropriating a single article; and threw into the flames one of their party whom they detected carrying something away.2 Actuated by the same sentiment of political vengeance, unmixed with other passion, they put to death, with a fantastic mockery of judicial forms, several of the king’s officers. They did no harm to men of the citizen and trading class, whatever their opinions, except to the Lombards and Flemings, who conducted the banks in London, under the protection of the court, and several of whom, as farmers of the taxes, had rendered themselves accomplices in the oppression of the poor. In the evening, they assembled in great numbers in Saint Catherine’s-square, near the Tower, saying they would not leave the place until the king had granted them what they required; they passed the night here, from time to time sending forth loud shouts, which terrified the king and the lords in the Tower. The latter held counsel with the mayor of London as to the best course to be pursued in so pressing a danger: the mayor, who had deeply compromised himself with the insurgents, was for violent measures. He said nothing could be easier than to defeat, by a direct attack with regular forces, a set of people, running in disorder about the streets, and scarce one in ten of whom was well armed. His advice was not followed, the king preferring the counsel of those who said: “If you can appease these people by good words, it were best and most profitable; for if we begin a thing we cannot achieve, we shall never regain our ground.”1

In the morning, the insurgents who had passed the night in St. Catherine’s-square, set themselves in motion, and declared that unless the king came to them forthwith, they would take the Tower by assault, and put to death all that were within it. The king sent word that if they would remove to Mile-end, he would meet them there without fail, and shortly after their departure he accordingly followed them, accompanied by his two brothers, by the earls of Salisbury, Warwick, and Oxford, and by several other barons. As soon as they had quitted the Tower, those insurgents who had remained in the city entered it by force, and running from chamber to chamber, seized the archbishop of Canterbury, the king’s treasurer, and two other persons, whom they decapitated, and then stuck their heads upon pikes. The main body of the insurgents, numbering fifty thousand men, was assembled at Mile-end when the king arrived. At sight of the armed peasants, his two brothers and several barons were alarmed, and left him, but he, young as he was, boldly advanced, and addressing the rioters in the English tongue, said: “Good people, I am your king and sire; what want you? what would you have from me?” Those who were within hearing of what he said, answered: “We would have you free us for ever, us, our children, and our goods, so that we be no longer called serfs or held in serfage.” “Be it so,” said the king; “return to your houses, by villages, as you came, and only leave behind you two or three men of each place. I will have forthwith written, and sealed with my seal, letters which they shall carry with them, and which shall freely secure unto you all you ask, and I forgive you all you have done hitherto; but you must return every one of you to your houses, as I have said.”2

The simple people heard this speech of the young king with great joy, not imagining for a moment that he could deceive them; they promised to depart separately, and did so, quitting London by different roads. During the whole day, more than thirty clerks of the royal chancery were occupied in writing and sealing letters of enfranchisement and pardon, which they gave to the deputies of the insurgents, who departed immediately upon receiving them. These letters were in Latin, and ran thus:

“Know that, of our special grace, we have enfranchised all our lieges and subjects of the county of Kent, and of the other counties of the kingdom, and discharged and acquitted all and several of them from all bondage and serfage.

“And that, moreover, we have pardoned these said lieges and subjects their offences against us, in marching to and fro in various places, with armed men, archers, and others, as an armed force, with banners and pennons displayed.”1

The chiefs, and especially Wat Tyler and John Ball, more clear-sighted than the rest, had not the same confidence in the king’s words and charter. They did all they could to stay the departure and dispersion of the men who had followed them, and succeeded in collecting several thousand men, with whom they remained in London, declaring that they would not quit it until they had obtained more explicit concessions, and securities for such concessions.

Their firmness produced its effect upon the lords of the court, who, not venturing as yet to employ force, advised the king to have an interview with the chiefs of the revolt in Smithfield. The peasants, having received this notification, repaired thither to await the king, who came, escorted by the mayor and aldermen of London, and by several courtiers and knights. He drew up his horse at a certain distance from the insurgents, and sent an officer to say that he was present, and that the leader who was to speak for them might advance. “That leader am I,” answered Wat Tyler, and heedless of the danger to which he exposed himself, he ordered his men not to move hand or foot until he should give them a signal, and then rode boldly up to the king, approaching him so near that his horse’s head touched the flank of Richard’s steed. Without any obsequious forms, he proceeded explicitly to demand certain rights, the natural result of the enfranchisement of the people, namely, the right of buying and selling freely in towns and out of towns, and that right of hunting in all forests, parks, and commons, and of fishing in all waters, which the men of English race had lost at the conquest.1

The king hesitated to reply; and, meantime, Wat Tyler, whether from impatience, or to show by his gestures that he was not intimidated, played with a short sword he had in his hand, and tossed it to and fro.2 The mayor of London, William Walworth, who rode beside the king, thinking that Wat Tyler menaced Richard, or simply carried away by passion, struck the insurgent a blow on the head with his mace, and knocked him from his horse. The king’s suite surrounded him, to conceal for a moment what was passing; and a squire of Norman birth, named Philpot,3 dismounting, thrust his sword into Tyler’s heart and killed him. The insurgents, perceiving that their chief was no longer on horseback, set themselves in motion, exclaiming: “They have slain our captain! let us kill them all!” And those who had bows, bent them to shoot upon the king and his train.4

King Richard displayed extraordinary courage. He quitted his attendants, saying, “Remain, and let none follow me;” and then advanced alone towards the peasants, forming in battle array, whom he thus addressed: “My lieges, what are you doing? what want you? you have no other captain than I. Tyler was a traitor; I am your king, and will be your captain and guide; remain at peace, follow me into the fields, and I will give you what you ask.”5

Astonishment at this proceeding, and the impression ever produced on the masses by him who possesses the sovereign power, induced the main body of the insurgents to follow the king, as it were, by a mechanical instinct. While Richard withdrew, talking with them, the mayor hastened into the city, rung the alarm-bell, and had it cried through the streets: “They are killing the king! they are killing the king!” As the insurgents had quitted the city, the English and foreign gentlemen, and the rich citizens, who sided with the nobles, and who had remained in arms in their houses with their people, fearful of pillage, all came forth, and, several thousand in number, the majority being on horseback and completely armed, hastened towards the open fields about Islington, whither the insurgents were marching in disorder, expecting no attack. As soon as the king saw them approach, he galloped up to them, and joining their ranks, ordered an attack upon the peasants, who, taken by surprise and seized with a panic terror, fled in every direction, most of them throwing down their arms. Great carnage was made of them, and many of the fugitives, re-entering London, concealed themselves in the houses of their friends.1

The armed men who, at so little risk, had routed them, returned in triumph, and the young king went to receive the felicitations of his mother, who said to him: “Hola, fair son, I have this day undergone much pain and fear for you!” “Certes, madam, I can well believe it,” answered the king; “but you may now rejoice, and thank God, whom we may justly praise, seeing that I have this day recovered my kingdom of England and my inheritance which I had lost.” Knights were made on this occasion, as in the great battles of the period, and the first whom Richard II. honoured with this distinction were the mayor Walworth and the squire Philpot, who had assassinated Wat Tyler. The same day, a proclamation was made, from street to street, in the king’s name, ordering all who were not natives of London, or who had not lived there a complete year, to depart without delay; and setting forth that if any stranger was found therein the next morning, he should lose his head as a traitor to the king and kingdom.2 The insurgents who had not yet quitted the city, hereupon dispersed in every direction. John Ball and Jack Straw, knowing they should be seized if they showed themselves, remained in concealment, but they were soon discovered and taken before the royal officers, who had them beheaded and quartered. This intelligence spread around London, stayed in its march a second body of revolted serfs, who, advancing from the remoter counties, had been longer on their road; intimidated with the fate of their brethren, they turned back and dispersed.1

Meantime, all the counties of England were in agitation. Around Norwich, the great landholders, gentlemen, and knights hid themselves; several earls and barons, assembled at Plymouth for an expedition to Portugal, fearing an attack from the peasants of the neighbourhood, went on board their ships, and although the weather was stormy, anchored out at sea. In the northern counties, ten thousand men rose, and the duke of Lancaster, who was then conducting a war on the borders of Scotland, hastened to conclude a truce with the Scots, and sought refuge in their country. But the turn of affairs in London soon revived the courage of the gentry in all parts; they took the field against the peasants, who were ill armed and without any place of retreat, while the assailants had their castles, wherein, the drawbridge once raised, they were secure. The royal chancery wrote, in great haste, to the castellans of cities, towns and boroughs, to guard well their fortresses, and let no one enter, under pain of death. At the same time it was everywhere announced that the king would enfranchise under his royal seal all serfs who remained quiet, which greatly diminished the excitement and energy of the people, and gave them less interest in their chiefs. The latter were arrested in various places, without much effort being made to save them: all were artisans for the most part, with no other surname than the appellation of their trade, as Thomas Baker, Jack Miller, Jack Carter, and so on.2

The insurrection being completely at an end from the defeat of the insurgents, the imprisonment of the chiefs, and the relaxation of the moral bond which had united them, proclamation was made by sound of trumpet, in the towns and villages, in virtue of a letter addressed by the king to all his sheriffs, mayors and bailiffs of the kingdom, thus conceived:—

“Make proclamation, without delay, in every city, borough and market town, that all and every tenant, free or otherwise, do, without resistance, difficulty, or delay, the works, services, aids, and labour, to their lords due, according to ancient custom, and as they were wont to do before the late troubles in various counties of the kingdom;

“And rigorously prohibit them longer to delay the said services and works, or to demand, claim, or assert any liberty or privilege they did not enjoy before the said troubles.

“And whereas, at the instance and importunity of the insurgents, certain letters patent under our seal were granted to them, giving enfranchisement from all bondage and serfage to our lieges and subjects, as also, the pardon of the offences committed against us by the said lieges and subjects;

“And whereas the said letters were issued from our court, without due deliberation, and considering that the concession of the said letters manifestly tended to our great prejudice and to that of our crown, and to the expropriation of us, the prelates, lords, and barons of our realms, and of holy church;

“With the advice of our council, we, by these presents, revoke, cancel and annul the said letters, ordering further, that those who have in their possession our said charters of enfranchisement and pardon, remit and restore them to us and our council, by the fealty and allegiance they owe us, and under penalty of forfeiture of all they can forfeit to us.”1

Immediately after this proclamation, a body of horse traversed, in every direction, the counties inhabited by the insurgents who had obtained charters. A judge of the king’s bench, Robert Tresilyan, accompanied the soldiers, and made a circuit with them of every village, publishing on his way, that all who had letters of enfranchisement and pardon must surrender them to him without delay, under penalty of military execution upon the entire body of the inhabitants. All the charters brought to him were torn and burned before the people; but, not content with these measures, he sought out the first promoters of the insurrection, and put them to death with terrible tortures, hanging some, four times over, at the corners of the town, and drawing others and throwing their entrails into the fire, while themselves yet breathed.2 After this, the archbishop, bishops, abbots, and barons of the kingdom, with two knights from each shire, and two burgesses from each borough town, were convoked in parliament, by letters from king Richard.1 The king set forth to this assembly, the grounds of his provisional revocation of the charters of enfranchisement, adding that it was for them to decide whether the peasants were to be freed or not.

“God forbid,” answered the barons and knights, “we should subscribe to such charters. ’Twere better for us all to perish in one day; for of what use our lives, if we lose our heritages.”

The act of parliament ratifying the measures already taken, was drawn up in French, having probably been discussed in that language.2 We do not know what share the deputies of the towns took in the debate, or even whether they were present at it; for although they were convoked, in the same form as the knights of the shire, they often assembled separately, or only remained in the common chamber during the discussion of the taxes to be imposed on merchandise and commerce. However, whatever may have been the part taken in the parliament of 1381, by the borough-members, the affection of the commoner class towards the cause of the insurgents is beyond a doubt. In many a place did they repeat the words of the Londoners: “These are our people, and whatever they do, is for us.” All who, not being noble or gentle, censured the insurrection, were ill regarded by public opinion, and this opinion was so decided, that a contemporary poet, Gower, who had enriched himself by composing French verses for the court, deemed it an act of courage to publish a satire, in which the insurgents were ridiculed.3 He declares that this cause has numerous and important partisans, whose hatred may be dangerous, but that he will rather expose himself to the danger than abstain from speaking the truth. It will thus seem probable, that, if the rebellion, begun by peasants and shoeless vagabonds, had not been so soon quelled, persons of a higher class might have assumed the conduct of it, and, with better means of success, might have effected its object. Then indeed, ere long, as a contemporary historian expresses it, toute noblesse et gentillesse might have disappeared from England.1

Instead of this, matters remained in the order established by the conquest, and the serfs, after their defeat, continued to be treated in the terms of the proclamation, which said to them, “Villains you were and are, and in bondage you shall remain.”2

Notwithstanding the failure of the open attempt they had made, at once to free themselves from servitude and to destroy the distinction of condition which had succeeded the distinction of race, the natural movement tending gradually to render this distinction less marked, still continued, and individual enfranchisements, which had commenced long before this period, became more frequent. The idea of the injustice of servitude in itself, and, whatever its origin, ancient or recent, the grand idea, that had formed the bond of the conspiracy of 1381, and to which the instinct of liberty had elevated the peasants before it reached the gentry, at length came upon the latter.

In the moments when reflection becomes calmer and more profound, when the voice of interest or avarice is hushed before that of reason, in moments of domestic sorrow, of sickness, and of the peril of death, the nobles repented of possessing serfs, as of a thing not agreeable to God, who had created all men in his own image. Numerous acts of enfranchisement, drawn up in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, have this preamble: “As God, in the beginning, made all men free by nature, and afterwards human laws placed certain men under the yoke of servitude, we hold it to be a pious and meritorious thing in the eyes of God to deliver such persons as are subject to us in villainage, and to enfranchise them entirely from such services. Know then, that we have emancipated and delivered from all yoke of servitude, so and so, our naïfs of such a manor, themselves, and their children, born and to be born.”3

These acts, very frequent in the period we have referred to, and of which we find no instance in preceding centuries, indicate the birth of a new public spirit opposed to the violent results of the conquest, and which appears to have been developed, at once among the sons of the Normans and among the English, at the epoch, when from the minds of both had disappeared every distinct tradition of the historical origin of their respective position. Thus the great insurrection of the villains in 1381, would seem the last term of the series of Saxon revolts, and the first of another order of political movements. The rebellions of the peasants which afterwards broke out, had not the same character of simplicity in their motives, or of precision in their object. The conviction of the absolute injustice of servitude, and of the unlawfulness of the seigneural power, was not their sole moving cause; passing interests or opinions had more or less share in them. Jack Cade, who in 1448 acted the same part as Wat Tyler in 1381, did not, like the latter, put himself forward as simply the representative of the rights of the commons against the gentlemen; but, connecting his cause and the popular cause with the aristocratic factions which then divided England, he represented himself to be a member of the royal family, unjustly excluded from the throne. The influence of this imposture upon the minds of the people in the northern counties and in that same county of Kent, which, seventy years before, had taken for its captains, tilers, bakers, and carters, proves that a rapid fusion had been taking place between the political interests of the different classes of the nation, and that a particular order of ideas and of sympathies was no longer connected, in a fixed manner, with a particular social condition.

At about the same period, and under the influence of the same circumstances, the parliament of England took the form under which it has become celebrated in modern times, permanently separating into two assemblies, the one composed of the high clergy, the earls and barons, convoked by special letters from the king; the other of the petty feudatories or knights of the shire, and the burgesses of the towns, elected by their peers. This new combination, which brought together the merchants, almost all of them of English origin, and the feudal tenants, Normans by birth, or accounted such from the possession of their fiefs and their military titles, was a great step towards the destruction of the ancient distinction by race, and the establishment of an order of things wherein all the families should be classed solely by their political importance and territorial wealth. Still, notwithstanding the sort of equality which the meeting of the burgesses and knights in a chamber of their own seemed to establish between these two classes of men, that which had been heretofore inferior retained for awhile the token of its inferiority. It was present at the debates on political matters, on peace and war, taking no part in them, or withdrew altogether during these discussions, coming in merely to vote the taxes and subsidies demanded by the king from personal property.

The assessment of these imposts had, in former times, been the sole reason for summoning the burgesses of English race to the presence of the Anglo-Norman kings; the richer among them, as among the Jews, were rather ordered than invited to appear before their lord. They received the command to attend the king at London, and met him where they could find him—in his palace, in the open street, or in the suburbs on a hunting party. But the barons and knights whom the king assembled to counsel him, and to discuss with him the affairs which regarded the community, or, as it was then termed, the cominalté of the kingdom, were received in a very different manner, were treated with all dignity and honour. They found at court everything prepared for their reception: courtoisie, entertainments, knightly display, and royal pomp. After the fêtes, they had with the king, what the old writers call grave conferences on the state of the country;1 whilst the business of the deputies of towns was limited to the giving their adhesion, as briefly as possible, to the taxes propounded by the barons of the exchequer.

The habit gradually adopted by the kings of convoking the villains of their cities and boroughs, no longer in an irregular, casual manner, according to the wants of the moment, but at fixed and periodical times, when they held their court three times a year, made but slight difference in the ancient practice, in other respects, of which the reader has observed a striking instance in the time of Henry II. The forms employed in reference to the burgesses became, it is true, less contemptuous, when they were no longer summoned merely before the king, but were convoked in full parliament, among the prelates, barons, and knights. Yet the object of their admission into this assembly, where they occupied the lowest benches, was still a simple vote of money; and the taxes demanded from them still exceeded those required from the clergy and landholders, even when the assessment was a general one. For example, when the knights granted a twentieth or fifteenth of their revenues, the grant made by the burgesses was a tenth or a seventh. This difference was always made, whether the deputies of towns assembled separately, in the place where parliament was held, whether they were convoked in another town, or whether they assembled with the knights of the shire, elected like themselves, while the high barons received their letters of summons personally from the king.1 The commons, accordingly, in the fifteenth century, were by no means eager to attend parliament, and the towns themselves, far from regarding their electorial privilege as a precious right, often solicited exemption from it. The collection of the public acts of England contains many petitions to this effect, with several royal charters in favour of particular towns, maliciously constrained, say these charters, to send men to parliament.2

The business of the knights and that of the burgesses, seated in the same chamber, differed according to their origin and social condition. The field of political discussion was boundless for the former; for the latter, it was limited to questions of imposts on commerce, on imports and exports. But the extension attained in the fifteenth century by commercial and financial measures, naturally augmented the parliamentary importance of the burgesses; they acquired by degrees, in monetary matters, a greater participation in public affairs than the titled portion of the lower chamber or even than the upper house. This revolution, the result of the general progress of industry and commerce, soon produced another; it banished from the lower chamber, called the house of the commonalty or commons, the French language, which the burgesses understood and spoke very imperfectly.

French was still, in England, at the end of the fifteenth century, the official language of all the political bodies; the king, the bishops, judges, earls, and barons spoke it, and it was the tongue which the children of the nobles acquired from the cradle.1 Preserved for three centuries and a half amidst a people who spoke another tongue, the language of the English aristocracy had remained far behind the progress made, at this same period, by the French of the continent.2 There was something antiquated and incorrect about it, certain phrases peculiar to the provincial dialect of Normandy; and the manner of pronouncing it, as far as we can judge from the orthography of the old acts, greatly resembled the accent of Lower Normandy. Moreover, this accent, brought into England, had acquired in the course of time a certain tinge of Saxon pronunciation. The speech of the Anglo-Normans differed from that of Normandy, by a stronger articulation of particular syllables, and, more especially, of the final consonants.

One cause of the rapid decline of the French language and poetry in England, was the total separation of this country from Normandy, in consequence of the conquest of the latter by Philip Augustus. The emigration of the literary men and poets of the langue d’oui to the court of the Anglo-Norman kings, became, after this event, less easy and less frequent. No longer sustained by the example and imitation of those who came from the continent to teach them the new forms of the beau langage, the Norman poets resident in England lost, during the thirteenth century, much of their former grace and facility. The nobles and courtiers delighted in poetry, but disdaining themselves to write verse or compose books, the trouveres who sang in royal and noble halls were fain to seek pupils among the sons of the traders and inferior clergy of English origin, and speaking English in their ordinary conversation. It was naturally more or less a matter of effort with these men to express their ideas and feelings in another language than that of their infancy, and this effort at once impeded the perfection of their works, and rendered them less numerous. From the end of the thirteenth century, most of those who, whether in the towns or in the cloister, felt a taste and talent for literature, sought to treat in the English language, the historical or imaginative subjects that had hitherto been only clothed in the Norman language.

A great many attempts of this kind appeared in succession during the first half of the fourteenth century. Some poets of this epoch, those chiefly who enjoyed or sought the favour of the higher classes of society, composed French verses; others, contenting themselves with the approbation of the middle classes, wrote for them in their own language; others, combining the two languages in one poem, alternated them by couplets, and sometimes even by verses.1 Gradually the scarcity of good French books composed in England became such, that the higher orders were obliged to obtain from France the romances or tales in verse with which they beguiled the long evenings, and the ballads which enlivened their banquets and courtly entertainments. But the war of rivalry which at the same period arose between France and England, inspiring the nobles of the two nations with a mutual aversion, lessened for the Anglo-Normans the attraction of the literature imported from France, and constrained the gentlemen, tenaciously delicate on the point of national honour, to content themselves with the perusal of the works of native authors. Those, indeed, who resided at London, and frequented the court, were still enabled to satisfy their taste for the poetry and language of their ancestors; but the lords and knights who lived on their estates, were fain, under penalty of utter ennui, to give admission to English story-tellers and ballad-singers, hitherto disdained as only fit to amuse the burghers and villains.2

These popular writers distinguished themselves from those who, at the same period, worked for the nobles, by an especial attachment to country people, farmers, millers, or innkeepers. The writers in the French tongue ordinarily treated this class of persons with supreme contempt, giving them no place whatever in their poetical narrations, whose personæ were all individuals of high degree, powerful barons and noble dames, damoiselles and gentle knights. The English poets, on the contrary, took for the subjects of their mery tales, plebeian adventures, such as those of Piers Ploughman, and historiettes, such as those we find occupying so large a space in the works of Chaucer. Another characteristic common to nearly all these poets, is a sort of national distaste for the language of the conquest:—

• “Right is that English, English understand,
• That was born in England,”

says one of them.1 Chaucer, one of the greatest wits of his time, slily contrasts the polished French of the court of France, with the antiquated and incorrect Anglo-Norman dialect, in drawing a portrait of an abbess of high degree:—

• “And French she spake, full fair and featously,
• After the school of Stratford atte Bow;
• For French of Paris was to her unknow.”2

Bad as it was, the French of the English nobles had, at least, the advantage of being spoken and pronounced in an uniform manner, while the new English language, composed of Norman and Saxon words, and idioms promiscuously put together, varied from one county to another, and even from town to town.3 This language, which took its commencement in England from the first years of the conquest, was successively augmented with all the French barbarisms used by the English, and all the Saxon barbarisms used by the Normans, in their endeavours to understand one another. Every person, according to his fancy or the degree of his knowledge of the two idioms, borrowed phrases from them, and arbitrarily joined together the first words that came into his head. It was a general aim with people to introduce into their conversation as much French as they could remember, by way of imitating the great, and appearing themselves distinguished personages.1 This mania, which, according to an author of the fourteenth century, had taken possession even of the peasants, rendered it difficult to write the English of the period in a way to be generally understood. Notwithstanding the merit of his poems, Chaucer expresses a fear that the multiplicity of the provincial dialects will prevent their being appreciated, out of London, and prays God grant that his book may be understood by all who read it.2

Some years before this, a statute of Edward III. had, not ordered, as several historians say, but simply permitted causes to be pleaded in English before the civil tribunals. The constantly increasing multiplicity of commercial transactions and of suits arising out of them, had rendered this change more necessary under that reign than before, when parties to a suit, who did not understand French, were fain to remain in ignorance of the proceedings. But in the suits against gentlemen before the high court of parliament, which took cognizance of treason, or before the courts of chivalry, which decided affairs of honour, the ancient official language continued to be employed. And, further, the custom was retained in all the courts, of pronouncing sentence in French, and of drawing up the record in that language. In general, it was a habit with the lawyers, of every class, even while pleading in English, to introduce every moment French words and phrases, as Ah! sire, je vous jure; Ah! de par Dieu! A ce j’assente! and other exclamations, with which Chaucer never fails to interlard their discourse, when he introduces them in his works.

It was during the first half of the fifteenth century, that the English language, gradually coming more into favour as a literary language, ended by entirely superseding French, except with the great lords, who, ere they entirely abandoned the idiom of their ancestors, diverted themselves equally with works in both languages. The proof of the equality which the language of the commons had now attained, is furnished by the public acts, which from about the year 1400, are indifferently drawn up in French and in English. The first statute of the house of commons in the English language bears date 1425; we do not know whether the upper house retained beyond this period the idiom of the aristocracy and of the conquest, but, from the year 1450, we find no more French acts on the statute book of England. Some letters, however, written in French by the nobles, and a few French epitaphs, are posterior to this epoch. Certain passages of the historians prove also, that, towards the close of the fifteenth century, the kings of England and the lords of their court understood and spoke French perfectly well;”1 but this knowledge was now merely a personal accomplishment with them, and not a necessity. French was no longer the first language lisped by the children of the nobles; it simply became for them, in common with the ancient languages and the continental tongues, the object of voluntary study, and the complement to a good education.

Thus, about four centuries after the conquest of England by the Normans, disappeared the difference of language, which, in combination with the inequality of social condition, had marked the separation of the families descended from the one or the other race. This entire fusion of the two primitive idioms, a certain indication of the union of the races, was perhaps accelerated, in the fifteenth century, by the long and sanguinary civil war of the houses of York and Lancaster. In destroying a great number of noble families, in creating among them political hatred and hereditary rivalry, in obliging them to form party alliances with people of inferior condition, this war powerfully contributed to the dissolution of the aristocratic society which the conquest had founded. During well nigh a century, the mortality among the men who bore Norman names was immense, and their places were necessarily filled by their vassals, their servants, and the burghers of the other race. The numerous pretenders to the crown, and the kings created by one party and treated as usurpers by the other, in their earnestness to obtain friends, had no time to be nice in the choice, or to observe the old distinctions of birth and condition. The great territorial domains founded by the invasion, and perpetuated thus far in the Norman families, now passed into other hands, by confiscation or purchase, while the late possessors, expropriated or banished, sought a refuge and begged their bread in foreign courts, in France, in Burgundy, in Flanders, in all the countries whence their ancestors had departed for the conquest of England.1

We may assign the reign of Henry VII. as the epoch when the distinction of ranks ceased to correspond with that of races, as the commencement of the society now existing in England. This society, composed of new elements, has still in great measure retained the forms of the old; the Norman titles remain, and, very singularly, the surnames of several extinct families have themselves become titles, conferred by letters patent of the king, with that of earl or baron. The successor of Henry VII. was the last king who prefixed to his ordinances the old form, “Henry, eighth of the name since the conquest;”2 but up to the present day the kings of England preserve the custom of employing the old Norman language, when they sanction or reject legislative bills: Le roy le veult; le roy s’advisera, le roy remercie ses loyaux subjects, accepte leur benevolence, et aynsi le veult. These forms, which seem, after the lapse of seven hundred years, to connect English royalty with its foreign origin, have yet, ever since the fifteenth century been heard, year after year, in the English parliament, without revolting the feelings of any one. It is the same with the genealogies and titles that carry back the existence of certain noble families to the invasion of William the Bastard, and the great territorial properties to the division made at that epoch.

No popular tradition relative to the division of the inhabitants of England into two hostile peoples existing, and the distinction between the two elements of which their present language is formed having disappeared, no political passions connect themselves with these now forgotten facts. Normans and Saxons exist only in history; and as the latter fill the less brilliant part, the mass of English readers, little versed in the national antiquities, willingly deceive themselves as to their origin, and regard the sixty thousand companions of William the Conqueror as the common ancestors of all the people of England. Thus a London shopkeeper and a Yorkshire farmer say: “our Norman ancestors,” just as would a Percy, a Darcy, a Bagot, or a Byron. The Norman, Poitevin, or Gascon names are no longer exclusively, as in the fourteenth century, the tokens of rank, power, and great estates, and it were inconsistent with reason to apply to the present times the old verses quoted in the epigraph to this work. Yet a fact, certain in itself and readily verified, is, that of an equal number of family names, taken, on the one hand, from the class of nobles, of country squires, gentlemen, and, on the other, from the trading, artizan, and agricultural classes, the names of French aspect are found in far greater proportion among the former. Such is all that now remains of the ancient separation of the races, and only within this limit can we now repeat the words of the old chronicler of Gloucester:

APPENDIX.

No. I.

Cruelties exercised by the Norman-Lords in their Castles.1

Hi suencten suithe the wrecce men of the land mid castelweorces. Tha the castles waren maked. Tha fylden hi mid deoules and yuele men. Tha namen hi tha men the hi wenden that ani god hefden. bathe be nihtes and be dæies. carl-men and wimmen. and diden heom in prisun efter gold and syluer. And pined heom untellendlice pining. for ne wæren næure nan martyrs swa pined alse hi wæron. Me henged up bi the fet and smoked heome mid ful smoke. Me henged bi the thumbes other bi the hefed. and hengen bryniges on her fet. Me dide enotted strenges abuton here hæued and uurythen to that it gæde to the hærnes. Hi diden heom in quarterne thar nadres and snakes and pades wæron inne. and drapen heom swa. Sume hi diden in crucet hus. that is in an ceste that was scort and nareu. and undep. and dide scærpe stanes ther inne. and threngde the man thær inne. Tha hi bræcon alle the limes. In mani of the castles wæron lof and grim. that væron sachenteges that twa other thre men hadden onoh to bæron onne. That was swa maced that is fæstned to an beom. And diden an scærp iren abuton tha mannes throte and his hals. that he ne mihte nowiderwardes ne sitten, ne lien. ne slepen. oc bæron al that iren. Mani thusen hi drapen mid hungær. I ne canne. and ne mai, tellen all the wundes. ne alle the pines. that hi diden wrecce men on this land. and that lastede tha xix. wintre wile Stephne was king. and æure it was uuerse and uuerse. Hi læiden gæildes on the tunes æureu wile. and clepeden it tenserie. Tha the wrecce men ne hadden nan more to given. Tha ræueden hi and brendon alle the tunes, that wel thu mihtes faren all a dæis fare sculdest thu neure finden man in tune sittende. ne land tiled. Tha was corn dære. and flec. and cæse. and butere. for nan ne wæs o the land. Wrecce men sturuen of hungær, sume jeden on ælmes the waren sum wile rice men. Sum flugen ut of lande. Wes næure gæt mare wreccehed on land. ne næure hethen men werse ne diden than hi diden. For oner sithon ne forbaren hi nouther circe ne circeiærd. oc nam al the god that thar inne was. and brenden sythen the circe hand altegædere. Ne hi ne forbaren biscopes land. ne abbotes. ne preostes. ac ræueden muneces. and clerekes. and æuric man other the ouer myhte. Gif twa men other thre coman ridend to an tun al the tunscipe flugæn for heom. wenden that hi wæron ræueres. The biscopes and lered men heom cursede æure oc was heom naht thar of. for hi wæron all for cursæd and for suoren and forloren. Was sæ me tilede. the erthe ne bar nan corn. For the land was all for don mild suilce dædes. And hi sæden openlice. that Crist slep. and his halechen. Suilc and mare thanne we cunnen sæin we tholenden xix. wintre for ure sinnes.

No. II. (page 51.)

War Song of the Troubadour Bertrand de Born, Seigneur de Hautefort.1

• • Be m play lo douz temps de pascor
  • Que fai fuelhas e flors venir;
  • E play mi quant aug la baudor
  • Del auzels que fan retentir
  • Lor chan per lo boscatge;
  • E play me quan vey sus els pratz
  • Tendaz e pavallos fermatz;
  • E plai m’en mon coratge
  • Quan vey per campanhas rengatz
  • Cavalliers ab cavals armatz.
• • E play mi quan li corredor
  • Fan las gens e’ls avers fugir;
  • E plai me quan vey aprop lor
  • Gran ren d’armatz ensems brugir;
  • Et ai gran alegratge,
  • Quan vey fortz castelbs assetjatz,
  • E murs fondre e derocatz
  • E vey l’ost pel ribatge
  • Qu’es tot entorn claus de fossatz
  • Ab lissas de fortz pals serratz.
• • Atressi me play de bon senhor
  • Quant es primiers à l’envazir.
  • Ab caval armat, ses temor;
  • C’aissi fai los sieus enardir
  • Ab valen vassallatge;
  • E quant el es el camp intratz,
  • Quascus deu esser assermatz,
  • E segr’el d’agradatge
  • Quar nulhs hom non es ren presatz
  • Tro qu’a manhs colps pres e donatz.
• • Lansas e brans, elms de color,
  • Escutz traucar e desguarnir
  • Veyrem a l’intrar de l’estor,
  • E manhs vassalhs ensems ferir
  • Don anaran a ratge
  • Cavalhs dels mortz e dels nafratz;
  • E ja pus l’estorn er mesclatz,
  • Negus hom d’aut paratge
  • Non pens mas d’asclar caps e bratz,
  • Que mais val mortz que vius sobratz.
• • Ie us dic que tau no m’a a sabor
  • Manjars ni buere ni dormii,
  • Cum a quant aug cridar: A lor!
  • D’ambas las partz; et aug agnir
• • Cavals voitz per l’ombratge,
  • Et aug cridar: Aidatz! Aidatz!
  • E vei cazer per los fossatz
• • Paucs e grans per l’erbatge,
  • E vei los mortz que pels costatz
  • An los tronsons outre passatz.
• • Baros, metetz en gatge
  • Castels e vilas et ciutatz,
  • Enans q’usquecs no us guerreiatz.
• • Papiol1 d’agradatge
  • Ad Oc e No2 t’en vai viatz,
  • Dic li que trop estan en patz

No. III. (page 139.)

History of the Marriage of Gilbert Beket, Father of Archbishop Thomas; Fragment of a Life of the Archbishop, by a Contemporary.3

Pater ejus (Thomæ) Gilbertus, cognomento Beket, civis Londoniensis, mater vero Matildis fuit, ambo generis et divitiarum splendore suis nequaquam concivibus inferiores. Quibus e regione morum ingenuitas et piæ conversationis innocentia, longe intelleximus, præminebant. Justitiæ quidem actibus insistebant, et sine crimine et querela, ut traditur, conversati sunt. Nunc autem in principio restat de ipsius patris et matris conjugio inserendum, ut exinde advertatur quanta cura et pietate a solis ortu usque ad occasum tam diversos genere et conditione congregavit in unum prædestinatio mirifica Salvatoris, de quorum sane felici progenie sponsam suam Ecclesiam per mundum universum prævidit sublimari et triumphaliter decorari.

Præfatus ergo Gilbertus, ætate juvenis, crucem Dominicam causa pœnitentiæ votivæ arripuit Jerosolimam iturus, quendam de familia sua Ricardum nomine secum assumens, ipso solo pro serviente contentus. Quo tandem prospere venientibus, inter christianos et gentiles insidiis habitis loca sancta orationis causa cum aliis introrsus quam licuit visitantes, pariter capti sunt et cathenati, atque in carcere cujusdam Admiraldi, præclari principis paganorum, detenti, ut singulis diebus victum laboribus impositis quodammodo compararent. Qui Gilbertus per annum integrum et dimidium in captivitate sclavorum more serviens, cum honoratior cæteris atque præstantior haberetur, in oculis Admiraldi præ omnibus gratiam et favorem invenit, in tantum quod frequenter coram eo, sed tamen in vinculis, ad mensam veniret, discumbentes visitaret, et invicem de terrarum notitiis ac gentium diversarum moribus et ritu conferrent. Multa eciam ob gratiam ipsius collata sunt suis beneficia concaptivis, procurante insimul privatim, in quantum licuit, filia ejusdem Admiraldi, puella admodum curialis et decora, unica patris sui, quæ utique miro affectu ipsum Gilbertum, prout patebit inferius, diligebat.

Quadam autem die, nacta oportunitate puella liberius cum eo loquendi, inquisivit ab eo de quanam terra et civitate extiterat oriundus, de fide eciam, de religione et conversatione Christianorum, et quæ forent credentium spes et seculorum præmia futurorum. Qui cum responderet quod Anglicus esset et Londoniarum incola civitatis, inquisitaque de fide, prout melius noverat, exposuisset, consequenter et ipsa ab eo sciscitavit, dicens: Num mortem libenter pro Deo tuo et fide Christi quam profiteris conservanda intrepide exciperes? Libentissime, inquit, pro Deo meo moriar. Quo audito, puella mox quasi ex virtute verbi tota mutata, profitetur se Christianam fieri ipsius ob causam, dummodo ipsam in conjugem accipere in sua fide sponderet. Tacuit attamen ille secum deliberans, adquiescere statim noluit, timens nimirum fallaciam mulieris, unde tergiversando de die in diem prorogavit, nolens cito precibus illius præstare consensum. Cumque puella vehementer affligeretur, et in dies ob dilationem, ut moris est mulierum, plus anxia efficeretur, Gilbertus interim cum suis concaptivis de fuga cogitans, post annum et dimidium, nocte quadam, diruptis cathenis a carcere aufugerunt, totumque noctis residuum, quousque fines Christianorum attigissent, conciti peregerunt. Mane autem facto, præpositus operum, more solito, ut eos ad opera mitteret consueta, a carcere fracto ipsos evasos vidisset, in manu valida eos insequitur, donec, Christianorum terminis obstantibus, omni spe jam fraudatus reverteretur non parum iratus. Puella vero hæc audiens memorata, ex illa hora de profectione sua et fuga post ipsos cogitavit. Cumque super hoc diebus ac noctibus mire cogitativa efficeretur, et in meditatione sua exardesceret cautius evadendi, nocte quadam, universis sompno depressis, sola, nullo sciente, assumpto secum modico quid ad viaticum necessario, ut expeditius iter ageret satis attemptando, multiplici se discrimini tradidit fugiendi, nichil curans de universis hæreditario jure sibi pertinentibus, sufficientiam sibi reputans divitiarum, si desiderium suum pro voto posset complere.

O mirandam nimis hujus mulieris tam audaciam quam amorem tanta difficilia et ardua præsumentis! Non hæsitavit, cum esset tam ingenti gloria paternæ possessionis nobilitanda, irrecupabiliter eadem carere. Non trepidavit fragilis et delicata paupertatem pœnalem subire, nec per tot terrarum spacia et naufragantis maris innumera periculorum genera dubitavit sola discurrere, dum unius hominis tam remoti et ignoti quæreret amorem. Cum etiam nec de vitâ ipsius vel inventione securitatem haberet, imo necdum secura de conjugio etsi quæsitum hominem reperiret. Proficiscens igitur paganismum prospere pertransivit, et cum quibusdam peregrinis et mercatoribus repatriantibus, qui linguam ejus noverant, versus Angliam navigabat. Cumque, transactis cunctis periculis ob iter obviantibus, Angliam applicuisset, atque a suis comitibus jam dissociata fuisset, nichil aliud interrogare pro itinere noverat nisi tantum Londonia, Londonia.

Quo tandem perveniente, quasi bestia erratica per plateas civitatis incedens, et obviantes quosque exploratoris more circumspiciens, derisu omnibus habebatur, et maxime pueris in eam intendentibus et per vicos incedentibus ob disparem ipsius habitum et linguam simul admirantibus. Contigit antem quod sic per plateas et vicos incedens, contra domum præfati Gilberti ubi manebat, in solempniori scilicet et frequentiori civitatis foro, ubi nunc in honore sancti Thomæ hospitalis domus constructa est, casu fortuito deveniret; in qua quidem ab introeuntibus divulgatum est, quod quædam juvencula mulier quasi idiota, pueris eam et aliis sequentibus et irridentibus, evagaret. Audiens autem Ricardus, serviens Gilberti superius memoratus, quasi ad spectaculum cum cæteris et ipse accurrit. Qui cum propius accedens eam agnosceret, statim cum summa festinatione ad dominum suum recurrit, narrans ei secreto hanc filiam Admiraldi esse, ad quam admirationis causa intuendam hominum copia confluebat. Quo audito, supra modum admirans nec credere valens, eo quod impossibile ut sic eveniret omnino videretur, dominus Ricardo non potuit fidem dare, donec ipso in juramento diutius persistente, minus incredulus aliquantulum redderetur.

Cogitans tandem causam adventus ipsius, arbitratus est tamen consultius ei alibi providendum quam eam secum in domo propria retinendam, jussit Ricardo ut ad quandam matronam viduam ei vicinam eam adduceret, quæ ipsam tanquam filiam suam in omnibus custodiret. Quem cum videret puella et eum agnosceret, mox quasi mortua cecidit, jaceus in extasi resupina. Cumque ab illa mentis alienatione expergefacta et ad se reversa resideret, ad dictam matronam Ricardus eam adduxit, sicut ejus dominus imperarat. Gilbertus de adventu puellæ secum pertractans, cœpit animus fluctuare per diversa, et cogitationes concipiens invicem repugnantes, incidit in mentem ejus episcopum Londoniensem consulendum adire apud sanctum Paulum, ubi illo tempore sex episcopi aderant super arduis regni negotiis vel ecclesiæ tractaturi. Quibus coram positus cum veritatem rer gestæ superius memoratæ per ordinem exponeret, mox cicestrensis episcopus præ cæteris propheticam prorumpens in vocem, indubitanter asseruit, hanc vocationem non humanam sed potius fuisse divinam, et necessario magnifici operis prolem edituram, cujus sanctitate et labore universalis ecclesia esset ad Christi gloriam sublimanda. Cæteris autem episcopis qui aderant in hanc sententiam concordantibus, ut idem Gilbertus pueilam, dummodo baptizari vellet, duceret in uxorem; addneta est statuta die in crastino, in ecclesia beati Pauli in doctorum episcoporum præsentia, ubi et baptisterium competenter extitit præparatum, in quo et illa debuerat baptizari.

Cumque interrogaretur in medio posita, prout mos ecclesiæ exigit, per sæpedictum Ricardum communem eorum interpretem, si vellet baptizari, respondit. “Hujus rei causa a valde remotis partibus huc adveni, dummodo Gilbertus michi voluerit in conjugio copulari.” Baptizatur igitur puella, sex episcopis grandi cum solempnitate baptismi sacramentum agentibus, eo quod præclari sanguims esset fœmina, imo vocationis clarioris ex gratia admodum divina; Gilberto traditur mox ab episcopis in conjugem cum celebritate conjugali, de fide catholica prius breviter instructa. Quam cum ad propria duceret, prima nocte mutuæ in unum concordiæ, sanctum Thomam, futurum Cantuariensem archiepiscopum et martyrem, genuerunt.

No. IV. (page 139.)

Old Ballad on the Captivity and Marriage of Gilbert Beket.1

• • In London was young Beichan born,
  • He longed strange countries for to see;
  • But he was taen by a savage moor,
  • Who handled him right cruellie;
• • For he viewed the fashions of that land,
  • Their way of worship viewed he;
  • But to Mahound, or Termagant,
  • Would Beichan never bend a knee.
• • So, in every shoulder they’ve putten a bore;
  • In every bore they’ve putten a tree;
  • And they have made him trail the wine
  • And spices on his fair bodie.
• • They’ve casten him in a dungeon deep,
  • Where he could neither hear nor see
  • For seven years they kept him there,
  • Till he for hunger’s like to die.
• • This Moor he had but as daughter,
  • Her name was called Susie Pye;
  • And every day as she took the air,
  • Near Beichan’s prison she passed by.
• • And bonny, meek, and mild was she,
  • Though she was come of an ill kin;
  • And oft she sigh’d, she knew not why,
  • For him that lay the dungeon in.
• • O so it fell, upon a day
  • She heard voung Beichan sadly sing;
  • And ay and ever in her ears
  • The tones of hopeless sorrow ring.
• • “My hounds they all go masterless;
  • My hawks they fiee from tree to tree;
  • My younger brother will heir my land;
  • Fair England again I’ll never see!”
• • The doleful sound, from under ground,
  • Died slowly on her listening ear;
  • But let her listen ever so long,
  • The never a word more could she hear.
• • And all night long no rest she got,
  • Young Beichan’s song for thinking on;
  • She’s stown the keys from her father’s head,
  • And to the prison strong is gone.
• • And she has open’d the prison doors,
  • I wot she open’d two or three,
  • Ere she could come young Beichan at,
  • He was locked up so curiouslie.
• • But when she came young Beichan before,
  • Sore wonder’d he that may to see;
  • He took her for some fair captive:
  • “Fair lady, I pray, of what countrie?”
• • “O, have ye any lands,” she said,
  • “Or castles in your own countrie,
  • That ye could give to a lady fair,
  • From prison strong to set you free.
• • —“Near London town I have a hall,
  • With other castles two or three;
  • I’ll give them all to the lady fair:
  • That out of prison will set me free.”
• • “Give me the truth of your right hand,
  • The truth of it give unto me,
  • That for seven years ye’ll no lady wed,
  • Unless it be along with me.”
• • —“I’ll give thee the truth of my right hand,
  • The truth of it I’ll freely gie,
  • That for seven years I’ll stay unwed,
  • For the kindness thou dost show to me.”
• • And she has brib’d the proud warder
  • Wi’ mickle gold and white monie;
  • She’s gotten the keys of the prison strong,
  • And she has set young Beichan free.
• • She’s gi’en him to eat the good spicecake,
  • She’s gi’en him to drink the blood redwine;
  • She’s bidden him sometimes think on her,
  • That sae kindly freed him out of pine.
• • She’s broken a ring from her finger,
  • And to Beichan half of it gave she:
  • “Keep it, to mind you of that love
  • The lady bore that set you free.
• • “And set your foot on good ship-board,
  • And haste ye back to your own countrie,
  • And before that seven years have an end,
  • Come back again, love, and marry me.”
• • But long ere seven years had an end,
  • She long’d full sore her love to see;
  • For ever a voice within her breast
  • Said, “Beichan has broke his vow to thee.”
  • So she’s set her foot on good ship-board,
  • And turn’d her back on her own countrie.
• • She sailed east, she sailed west,
  • Till to fair England’s shore she came
  • Where a bonny shepherd she espied,
  • Feeding his sheep upon the plain,
• • “What news, what news, thou bonny shepherd?
  • What news hast thou to tell to me?”
  • —“Such news I hear ladie,” he says,
  • “The like was never in this countrie;
• • “There is a wedding in yonder hall
  • Has lasted these thirty days and three,
  • Young Beichan will not bed with his bride
  • For love of one that’s yond the sea.”
• • She’s put her hand in her pocket,
  • Gi’en him the gold an’ white monie:
  • “Hae, take ye that, my bonny boy,
  • For the good news thou tell’st to me.”
• • When she came to young Beichan’s gate,
  • She tirled softly, at the pin;
  • So ready was the proud porter
  • To open and let this lady in.
• • “Is this young Beichan’s hall,” she said,
  • “Or is that noble lord within?”
  • “Yea, he’s in the hall among them all,
  • And this is the day o’ his weddin.”
• • —“And has he wed anither love?
  • And has he clean forgotten me?”
  • And, sighin’, said that gay ladie,
  • “I wish I were in my own countrie.”
• • And she has taen her gay gold ring,
  • That with her love she brake so free;
  • Says, “Gie him that, ye proud porter,
  • And bid the bridegroom speak to me.”
• • When the porter came his lord before,
  • He kneeled down low on his knee.
  • “What aileth thee, my proud porter,
  • Thou art so full of courtesie?”1
• • —“I’ve been porter at your gates,
  • It’s thirty long years now and three;
  • But there stands a lady at them now,
  • The like o’ her did I never see;
• • “For on every finger she has a ring,
  • And on her mid finger she has three;
  • And as meickle gold aboon her brow
  • As would buy an earldom to me.”
• • It’s out then spok the bride’s mother,
  • Aye and an angry woman was shee;
  • “Ye might have excepted our bonny bride;
  • And twa or three of our companie.”
• • —“O hold your tongue, thou brid’s mother,
  • Of all your folly let me be;
  • She’s ten times fairer nor the bride,
  • And all that’s in your companie.
• • “She begs one sheave of your white bread,
  • But and a cup of your red wine;
  • And to remember the lady’s love,
  • That last reliev’d you out of pine.”
• • —“O well-a day!” said Beichan then,
  • “That I so soon have married thee!
  • For it can be none but Susie Pye,
  • That sailed the sea for love of me.”
• • And quickly hied he down the stari;
  • Of fifteen steps he made but three;
  • He’s ta’en his bonny love in arms,
  • And kist, and kist her tenderlie.
• • —“O hae ye ta’en anither bride?
  • And hae ye quite forgotten me?
  • And hae ye quite forgotten her,
  • That gave you life and libertie?”
• • She looked o’er her left shoulder,
  • To hide the tears stood in her e’e:
  • “Now fare thee well, young Beichan,” she says,
  • “I’ll try to think no more on thee.”
• • —“O never, never, Susie Pye,
  • For surely this can never be;
  • Nor ever shall I wed but her
  • That’s done and dree’d so much for me.”
• • Then out and spake the forenoon bride:
  • “My lord, your love it changeth soon;
  • This morning I was made your bride,
  • And another chose ere it be noon.”
• • —“O hold thy tongue, thou forenoon bride;
  • Ye’re ne’er a whit the worse for me;
  • And whan ye return to your own countrie,
  • A double dower I’ll send with thee.”
• • He’s taen Susie Pye by the white hand.
  • And gently led her up and down,
  • And ay as he kist her red rosy lips,
  • “Ye’re welcome, jewel, to your own.”
• • He’s taen her by the milk white hand,
  • And led her to yon fountain stane;
  • He’s changed her name from Susie Pye,
  • And he’s call’d her his bonny love, lady Jane.

No. V. (page 139.)

Particulars of the worldly Life of Thomas Becket, before his elevation to the Bishopric, from William Fitzstephen, his Secretary.1

Cancellarii domus et mensa communis erat omnibus cujuscunque ordinis indigentibus ad curiam vementibus, qui probi vel essent, vel esse viderentur. Nulla fere die comedebat absque comitibus et baronibus, quos ipsemet invitabat. Jusserat quaque die, novo stramine vel fœno in hieme, novis scirpis vel frondibus virentibus in æstate, sterni hospitium suum, ut militum multitudinem, quam scamna capere non poterant, area munda et læta reciperet; ne vestes eorum pretiosæ, vel pulcliræ eorum camisiæ, ex areæ sorde maculam contraherent. Vasis aureis et argenteis domus ejus renitebat, ferculis et potibus pretiosis abundabat, ut si quæ esculenta vel poculenta commendaret raritas, emptores ejus nulla eorum comparandorum repellere deberet caritas......

Cancellario, et regni Angliæ et regnorum vicinorum magnates liberos suos servituros mittebant, quos ipse honesta nutritura et doctrina instituit, et cingulo donatos militiæ, ad patres et propinquos cum honore remittebat, aliquos retinebat. Rex ipse dominus suus, filium suum, hæredem regni, ei nutriundum commendavit: quem ipse cum coætaneis sibi multis filns nobilium, et debita eorum omnium sequela, et magistris, et servitoribus propriis, quo dignum erat honore, secum habuit. . . .

Cancellario homagium infiniti nobiles et milites faciebant; quos ipse, salva fide domini regis, recipiebat, et ut suos patrocinio fovebat.

Transfretaturus interdum sex aut plures naves in sua habebat velificatione, nullumque qui transfretare vellet, remanere sinebat: appulsus gubernatores suos et nautas ad placitum eorum remunerabat. Nulla fere dies effluebat ei, qua non ipse aliqua magna largiretur donaria, equos, aves, vestimenta, auream vel argenteam supellectilem, vel monetam. Sic nimirum scriptum est: quidam erogant propria, et semper abundant: alii rapiunt aliena, et curtæ semper abest rei. Tantamque habebat cancellarius donandi gratiam, ut amor et deliciæ totius orbis latini reputaretur. Utcunque erat ætas, ita quemque facetus adoptabat......

Cancellarius regi clero, militiæ et populo erat acceptissimus, ob ipsius dotes virtutum, animi magnitudinem, meritorum insignia, quæ animo ejus inhæserant. Pertractatis seriis, colludebant rex et ipse, tanquam coætanei pueruli, in aula, in ecclesia, in concessu, in equitando. Una dierum coequitabant in strata Lundoniæ; stridebat deformis hiems: eminus aspexit rex venientem senem, pauperem, veste trita et tenui; et ait cancellario: Videsue illum?—Cancellarius: Video.—Rex. Quam pauper, quam debilis, quam nudus! Numquidne magna esset eleemosyna dare ei crassam et calidam capam?—Cancellarius: Ingens equidem; et ad hujusmodi animum et oculum, rex, habere deberes. Interea pauper adest; rex substitit, et cancellarius cum eo. Rex placide compellat pauperem, et quærit, si capam bonam vellet habere. Pauper, nesciens illos esse, putabat jocum non seria agi. Rex cancellario: Equidem tu hanc ingentem liabebis eleemosynam; et injectis ad capitiume jus manibus, capam, quam novam et optimam de scarlata et grysio indutus erat, rex cancellario auferre, ille retinere laborabat. Fit ibi motus et tumultus magnus: divites et milites, qui eos sequebantur, mirati accelerant scire quænam esset tam subita inter eos causa concertandi: non fuit, qui diceret: intentus erat uterque manibus suis, ut aliquando quasi casuri viderentur. Aliquandiu reluctatus cancellarius, sustinuit regem vincere, capam sibi inclinato detrahere, et pauperi donare. Tunc primum rex sociis suis acta narrat: risus omnium ingens: fuerunt, qui cancellario capas et pallia sua porrigerent. Cum capa cancellarii pauper senex abit, præter spem locupletatus, lætatus et Deo gratias agens.

Aliquotiensque ad hospitium cancellarii rex comedebat, tum ludendi causa, tum gratia videndi quæ de ejus domo et mensa narrabantur. Rex veniebat aliquando equo admisso in hospitium cancellarii sedentis ad mensam: aliquando sagitta in manu, rediens venatu, vel iturus in nemus; aliquando bibebat, et viso cancellario recedebat; aliquando saliens ultra mensam, assidebat et comedebat. Magis unanimes et amici nunquam duo alii fuerunt temporibus christianis.

Fuit aliquando gravi tentus infirmitate cancellarius Rothomagi apud sanctum Gervasium. Venerunt eum duo reges simul videre, rex Francorum et rex Anglorum, dominus suus. Tandem dispositus ad sanitatem, et convalescens, una dierum sedit ad ludum scaccorum, indutus capa manicata. Intravit eum visitare Aschetinus, prior Leghcestriæ, veniens a curia regis, qui tunc erat in Gasconia; qui liberius eum allocutus, ausu familiaritatis, ait: Quld est hoc quod capa manicata utimini? Hæc vestis magis illorum est, qui accipitres portant: vos vero estis persona ecclesiastica, una singularitate, sed plures dignitate: Cantuariæ archidiaconus, decanus Hastingæ, præpositus Buverlaci, canonicus ibi et ibi; procurator etiam archiepiscopatus; et sicut rumor in curia frequens est, archiepiscopus eritis. Cancellarius respondit, inter cætera, ad verbum illud: Equidem tres tales pauperes agnosco in Anglia sacerdotes, quorum cujuslibet ad archiepiscopatum promotionem magis optarem quam meam: nam ego, si forte promoverer, ita dominum meum regem intus et in cute novi, necesse haberem, aut ipsius gratiam amittere, aut Domini Dei, quod absit, servitium postponere: quod et post ita contigit...

Quinquaginta duos clericos cancellarius in obsequio suo habebat: quorum plurimi in suo erant comitatu, curabant episcopatus et abbatias vacantes, aut ejus proprios honores ecclesiasticos.

Deliberavit quandoque rex Anglorum cum cancellario et aliis quibusdam regni sui magnatibus, petere a rege Francorum filiam ejus Margaretam matrimonio copulandam filio suo Henrico. Placuit consilium Hæc siquidem regum et magnorum virorum magna est confœderatio. Ad tantam petitionem tanto principi faciendam quis mittendus erat, nisi cancellarius? Eligitur: assentitur. Igitur cancellarius rem, personas et officium suum attendens, et se tantæ rei commetiens, juxta illud poeticum:

• “Metire quod audes: nuptialiter se instruit
• Qui nuptias mittitur conciliare futuras.”

Parat ostendere et effundere luxus anglicani opulentiam, ut apud omnes et in omnibus honoretur persona mittentis in missi, et missi sua in se. Circiter ducentos in equis secum habuit de familia sua, milites, clericos, dapiferos, servientes, armigeros, nobilium filios, militantes ei, et armis omnes instructos. Omnes isti et omnis earum sequela, novo festivo fulgebant ornatu vestium, quisque pro modo suo. Habuit etiam viginti quatuor mutatori avestimentorum, omnia fere donanda, et in transmarinis relinquenda, et omnem elegantiam varii, grysii, et pellium peregrinarum, palliorum quoque et tapetum, quibus thalamus et lectus episcopi hospitio recepti ornabantur. Habuit secum canes, aves, omne genus quo reges utuntur et divites. Habuit in comitatu suo octo bigas curriles; unamquamque bigam quinque equi trahebant, dextrariis corpore et robore similes; quisque equus suum sibi deputatum habebat fortem juvenem nova tunica succinctum, euntem cum biga; ipsaque biga suum veredum et custodem. Duæ bigæ solam cervisiam trahebant, factam in aquæ decoctione ex adipe frumenti, in cadis ferratis, donandam Francis. Habebat cancellarii capella bigam suam; camera suam, expensa suam, coquina suam; portabant aliæ esculentorum et poculentorum aliquid; aliæ dorsalia tapeta, saccos cum vestibus nocturnis, sarcinas et impedimenta. Habuit duodecim summarios. Octo scrinia cancellarii continebant supellectilem, auream scilicet et argenteam, vasculos, cullulos, pateras, ciphos, cuppas, urceolas, pelves, salina, cochlearia. cultellas. parapsides. Aliæ coffræ et clitellæ cancellarii continebant monetam, æs plurimum cotidianis ejus impensis et donis sufficiens, et vestes ejus, et libros aliquot et hujusmodi. Unus summarius capellæ sacra vasa, et altaris ornamenta, et libros portabat, cæterorum præambulus. Quisque summariorum suum habebat agasonem, qualem et qualiter decuit instructum. Quæque etiam biga habebat canem alligatum vel supra vel subtus, magnum, fortem et terribilem, qui ursum vel leonem dormiturus videretur. Sed et supra quemque summarium erat vel simia caudata, vel humani simulator simius oris. In ingressu gallicanorum villarum et castrorum, primi veniebant garciones pedites quasi ducenti quinquagenta, gregatim euntes sex vel deni vel plures simul, aliquid lingua sua pro more patriæ suæ cantantes. Sequebantui aliquo intervallo canes copulati et leporarii in loris et laxis suis, cum concuratoribus et sequacibus suis. Post modicum stridebant ad lapides platearum illæ bigæ ferratæ, magnis coriis animalium consutis coopertæ. Sequebantur ad modicam distantiam summarii, agasonibus, positis genibus super clunes summariorum, equitantibus. Aliqui Franci, ab domibus sui segressi, ad tantum strepitum quærebant cujus esset familia. Aiunt illi, quod cancellarius regis Anglorum ad dominum regem Franciæ missus veniret. Dicunt Franci: Mirabilis est ipse rex Anglorum, cujus cancellarius talis et totus incedit. Sequuntur post summarios armigeri, militum portantes scuta, et trahentes dextrarios; inde alii armigeri; dehinc ephebi; deinde qui aves portabant; postea dapiferi, et magistri, et ministri domus cancellarii; deinde milites et clerici, omnes bini et bini equitantes, postremo, cancellarius, et aliqui familiares ejus circa eum.

Appulsus in transmarinis, statim præmiserat domino regi Francorum cancellarius mandans, quod ad eum veniret. Venit per castrum Medlenti. Rescripserat ei rex Francorum, quod occurreret ei Parisius, et qua die. Rex itaque volens cancellarium procurare; sicut nobilitatis et consuetudinis gallicanorum regum est, omnem mortalem ad curiam Franciæ venientem, quamdiu in curia fuerit, procurare, edicto Parisius dato prohibuerat, ne quis aliquid cancellario, vel suis emptoribus venderet. Quo præcognito, cancellarius præmiserat suos ad fora vicina, Lamaci, Corboili, Pontis Isarei, sancti Dionysn, qui sibi emerent panes, et carnes, et pisces, vina, et cibaria, in abundantia, mutato, suppressisque nominibus, habitu. Et cum Parisius domi Templi hospitium habitaturus ingrederetur, occurrerunt ei sui dicentes, quod hospitium omnibus bonis instructum ad moram triduanam inveniret, quaque die mille hominibus procurandis. Equidem in divitiis regis Salomonis legitur quot animalium carnes quotidianis ejus impensis sufficerent. Equidem una die, anguillarum unum solum ferculum cancellarii centum solidis sterlingorum emptum fuit. quod omni patriæ notum, etiam loco proverbii multo tempore multis in ore erat. De aliis ejus ferculis et impensis sileo. Ex hoc uno intelligi potest, quod mensa cancellarii sumptuosa et sufficiens fuit.

Qualiter eum dominus rex Francorum et nobiles illi Franci honoraverunt, qualiter ipse vicissim eos, et præterea qua comitate suscepit scholares Parisius et magistros scholarum et cives scholarium angligenarum creditores, dicere non sufficio. Legitur de Hannibale, quod, post interfectum Hasdrubalem, Romam nuncios miserit, dicens eis: Ite, et omnem mortalem explete pecunia. Idem forte legit et curavit cancellarius, omnem nobilem Francum, baronem militem, servitorem regis vel reginæ regis Francorum, magistros scholarum, scholares civium nobiliores, muneribus suis explebat. Omnia sua vasa aurea et argentea donavit, omnia mutatoria vestimentorum: illi pallium, illi capam griseam, illi pelliciam, illi pallefridum, illi dextrarium. Quid plura? Supra omnem hominem suam gratiam adeptus est, legatione sua feliciter functus est, propositum assecutus est; quod petiit ei concessum est. In reditu suo Wydonem de La Val, regis Angliæ impugnatorem, patriæ stratæque publicæ deprædatorem, cepit, et conjectum in vincula apud castrum Novi Fori incarceravit. Unde hoc modo se cancellarius Thomas in pacis studio et tempore habuit.

Quid de eo in bellicis negotiis occupato loquar? In exercitu et obsidione Tholosæ, ubi tota Anglia, Normannia, Aquitania, Andegavis, Britannia, Scotia, inpræsidium regis Angliæ, militarem manum et fortitudinem bellicam emisit, cancellarius de propria familia lectam manum militum septingentos milites habebat Et quidem si ejus paritum esset consilio, urbem Tholosam, et regem Franciæ, qui favore sororis comitissæ Constantiæ se immiserat, sed et improvide sine exercitu et manu forti, invasissent et cepissent, tantus erat regis Anglorum exercitus. Sed vana superstitione et reverentia rex tentus consilio aliorum, super urbem, in qua esset dominus suus rex Franciæ, irruere noluit: dicente in contrarium cancellario, quod personam domini rex Francorum ibi deposuisset, eo quod supra conventa hostem se ei opposuisset. Non multo post, vocata et congregata venit in urbem militia regis Francorum; et rex Angliæ cum rege Scotiæ et omni exercitu suo, inops voti et inefficax propositi, rediit, capta tamen prius urbe Cadurcio. et plurimis castris, in vicinia Tholosæ, quæ erant comitis Tholosæ, et suffraganeorum ejus, vel quæ comes Tholosæ regis Angliæ fautoribus prius abstulerat. Ad quæ omnia retinenda post reditum regis Angliæ, comitibus omnibus recusantibus, solus cancellarius cum sua familia, et solo Henrico de Essexia, constabullario et barone regis, remansit. Et postea tria castra munitissima, et quæ inexpugnabilia videbantur, ipsemet lorica indutus et galea, cum suis in manu forti cepit. Sed et Garunnam cum militari manu transiit supra hostes; confirmataque in regis obsequium tota illa provincia, gratiosus et honoratus rediit.

Postmodum autem in guerra regis Francorum et domini sui regis Anglorum in Marchia, ad communem terminum terrarum suarum inter Gisorcium et Triam et Curceles, cancellarius, præter propriæ familiæ septingentos equites, alios mille ducentos stipendarios milites, habebat quatuor millia servientium, per unam quadragenam. Et cuique militi, quaque die, dabantur ad equos et armigeros procuiandos tres solidi illius monetæ, ipsique milites omnes ad mensam cancellarii erant. Ipsemet clericus cum esset, cum valente milite Francorum Engelramno, de Triœ regione subditis equo calcaribus veniente armato, lancea demissa et equo admisso congressus, ipsum equo dejecit, et dextrarium lucrifecit. Et in toto regis Anglorum exercitu semper primi erant milites cancellarii, semper majora audebant, semper præclare faciebant, eo docente, ducente, eo hortante cavere eductui, canere receptui in lituis suis ductilibus, quos in exercitu suo proprios, sed universo hinc inde exercitur habebat notissimos. Undeipse hostis etiam et expugnator regis Francorum, et terræ ipsius in igne et gladio depopulator, in magnam pervenit gratiam ipsius regis Francorum et magnatum totius Galliæ, suffragantibus ei meritis fider præstantis et nobilitatis suæ notissimæ: quam gratiam postmodum tempore opportuno sibi rex exhibuit. Virtus quippe et in hoste laudatur.

No. VI. (page 139.)

Letter of John of Salisbury to Becket, respecting the Views of the king of France, the earl of Flanders, and the court of Rome, concerning him.

1Venerabili domino et pairi carissimo Thomæ, Dei gratia Cantuariensi archiepiscopo et Anglorum primati, suus Joannes Saresberiensis, salutem et felices ad vota successus. Ex quo partes attigi cismarinas, visus sum mihi sensisse lenioris auræ temperiem, et detumescentibus procellis tempestatum, cum gaudio miratus sum rerum ubique copiam, quietemque et lætitiam populorum. Egredientem vero de navi, servientes comitis Gisnensis ex mandato ejus, procurante Arnulpho, nepote ipsius, honorifice susceperunt; et mihi et meis domum et terram comitis pro vestra reverentia exponentes, liberum ab omni consuetudinis onere, perduxerunt fere ad Sanctum-Audomarum. Quo cum venissem, procurante quodam Marsilio monacho, qui apud Thilleham et Irulege morari consuevit, in domo Sancti-Bertini honestissime receptus sum, et patenter intellexi quod ecclesia illa ad honorem Cantuariensis ecclesiæ et vestrum exposita est; et si placet, tam comiti quam monachis, oblata vobis opportunitate, gratias referatis. Exinde cum venissem Atrebatum, comitem Philippum apud Exclusam castrum, a quo tyrannus Iprensis tam longa obsidione exclusus est, esse audivi. Illuc itaque divertens, Domino misericorditer iter meum in omnibus prosperante, non longe a strata publica obvium habui quem quærebam. Ut enim, more divitum, quos oblectat hoc nugandi genus, in avibus cœli luderet, fluvios, stagna, paludes et scaturigines fontium peragrans circuibat. Gavisus est se invenisse hominem a quo fideliter audiret Angliæ statum, et ego magis, quia eum mihi Deus obtulerat, ita ut sine multo viæ dispendio mandatum vestrum exsequerer. De rege et proceribus multa percunctatus est; sed ego temperavi responsum, ut me nec de mendacio conscientia reprehendat, nec temeritatem meam in his quæ ad regein spectant quisquam possit arguere. Vestias vero angustias audrens vobis compassus est, auxiliumque promittit, naves etenim procurabit, si hoc necessitas vestia exegerit, et ipse ante, ut opoitet, admoneatur. Si vero ad hoc vos tempestas impulerit, præmittite aut Philippum emptorem vestrum, qui et comitis auctoritate utatui, et cum nautis et vectoribus, prout expedierit, contiahat. Sic a comite recedens, die sequenti Noviomum veni.

Et nescio quo præpetis et inquietæ famæ præcomo calamitas Anglorum ecclesiarumque vexatio, quocumque veniebam, fuerat divulgata, ut ubi multa audirem gesta in conventu londoniensi et wintoniensi, quæ in Anglia nunquam audieram. Et quidem pleraque, ut fit, majora et pejora veris referebantur: ego autem hæc omnia quæ per ora populi volitabant studiosissime dissimulabam; sed nec simulanti prospera plene credebatur, nec adversa dissimulanti. Quodque miremini, comes suessionensis, ea die qua Noviomi eram, omnes articulos londoniensis, nescio conciliabuli aut dissiliabuli dicam, decano ita seriatim exposuit ac si interfuisset omnibus præsens, non modo his quæ in palatio gesta sunt, sed quæ secretissime ab his vel ab illis dicta sunt in conclavi. Nec facile crediderim quin ibi, sive de suis, sive de nostratibus, cautos exploratores habuerint Galli. Decanus autem noviomensis. vir integerrimæ fidei, concussionem vestram non sine multo dolore audierat; et se ad vos recipiendum præparat, non modo sua omnia expositurus pro vobis, sed pro cantuariensi ecclesia, si oportuerit, se ipsuin positurus. Decreverat autem transire ad curiam; sed quia de statu vestro mœstus est et sollicitus, donec certioretur, domi exspectat. Ibi a quibusdam pro certo accepi regem Francorum esse Lauduni, et prope eum dominum remensem ejus exspectare colloquium. Eos ergo adire proposui, sed, propter guerras quas comes de Roceio et alii quidam proceres, adversus dominum remensem exercebant, a proposito revocatus, iter Parisius deflexi. Ubi cum viderem victualium copiam, lætitiam populi, reverentiam cleri, et totius ecclesiæ majestatem et gloriam, et varias occupationes philosophantium admiratus, velut illam scalam Jacob, cujus summitas cœlum tangebat, eratque via ascendentium et descendentium angelorum, lætæ peregrinationis urgente stimulo, coactus sum profiteri quod Vere Dominus est in loco isto, et ego nesciebam. Illud quoque poeticum ad mentem rediit:

Evolutis autem paucis diebus in conducendo hospitio et sarcinulis componendis, regem Francorum adii eique ex ordine exposur causam vestiam. Quid multa? Compatitur, promittit auxilium, et pro vobis se domino Papæ scripsisse asseruit, et iterum, si oportuerit, scripturum et acturum quod poterit, viva voce. Cum vero eum ex parte filiæ suæ, quam nuper sanam videram, quando a domina regina licentiam accepi, salutassem, respondit sibi gratissimum esse; si illa jam ab angelis accepta esset in paradiso. Cui cum ego subjungerem quia istud per misericordiam Dei quandoque eveniet, sed ante multis gentibus lætitiam dabit, respondit rex: “Hoc quidem Deo possibile est; sed longe verisimilius quod multorum futura sit causa malorum. Sed absit ab illa quod paternus præsagit animus! quia vix, inquit, spero ut ab ea possit aliquid boni esse.” Regem nostrum Franci timent pariter et oderunt; sed tamen quoad illos quieto et alto somno dormire potest.

Et quia Remensem adire non potui, literas meas ad abbatem S. Remigii amicissimum mihi direxi, ut in hac parte suppleat vices meas. Cæterum mihi videtur esse consilium, ut per aliquem monachum Boxleïæ, aut alium nuncium fidelem, literas vestias cum aliquo munusculo transmittatis ad dominum remensem, contrahatisque cum eo familiaritatem, quia ille, quisquis sit in persona, magnus est in regno Francorum, et in ecclesia romana multum potest, tum pro rege, tum pro eminentia ecclesiæ suæ. Ad ecclesiam romanam nondum descendi, declinans quantum possum, ne suspicio probabilis contra me concipi debeat; et hoc ipsum, sicut ex literis domini pictaviensis accepi, domino Papæ et curiæ satis innotuit Receptis autem literis vestris, illico scripsi domino Henrico et Willelmo Papiensi, et satis explanavi in quantam perniciem ecclesiæ romanæ tendant hæc, si processum habuerint, quæ contra vos præsumantur. Distuli autem illuc ire, quia de transitu abbatis S. Augustini aut episcopi lexoviensis nihil certum erat: et si ad curiam venerint, nobis per magistrum Henricum, qui ibi moratur, cito poterit innotescere. Verum quid ibi tunc possimus non clare video. Contra vos enim faciunt multa, pauca pro vobis. Venient enim magni viri, divites in effusione pecuniæ, quam nunquam Roma contempsit, eruntque non modo sua, sed domini regis, quem curia in nullo audebit offendere, auctoritate fieti. Ad hæc muniti erunt privilegiis ecclesiæ romanæ, quæ in hujusmodi causis nunquam cuicumque episcopo detulit aut raro. Deinde dominus Papa in causa hac nobis semper est adversatus, et adhuc non cessat reprehendere quod fecit pro nobis cantuariensis ecclesiæ amator Adrianus, cujus mater apud vos algore torquetur et media. Nos humiles, inopes, immuniti, numquid poterimus verba dare Romanis? At illi pridem suum comicum audierunt, ut non emant spera pretio.

Sed scribitis ut tandem, si alia via non patuerit, promittamus ducentas marcas. At certe pars adversa, antequam frustretur, tracentas dabit aut quadringentas.

Et ego respondeo pro Romanis, quod pro amore domini regis et reverentia nunciorum mallent plus recipere, quam sperare minus. Stant autem pro vobis, quod pro libertate ecclesiæ tribulamini; sed, honestatem causæ nostræ extenuantes, excusatores regis et æmuli vestri hoc temeritati quam libertati magis adscribere conabuntui. Et ut eis citius credatur, ipsi domino Papæ (quia venas hujus susurri jam audiit auris mea) dabunt spem veniendi in Angliam, dicentque regii filii dilatom coronationem, ut manu apostolica consecretur. Et sciatis ad hoc promptos esse Romanos. Jam enim quidam nobis insultant, dicentes dominum Papam ad cantuariensem ecclesiam accessurum, ut moveat candelabrum vestrum, ibique aliquandiu sedeat. Nec tamen credo quod dominus Papa istud adhuc conceperit; nam, ut audio, multam ejus pro constantia vestra habetis gratiam. Sed unum procul dubio scio, quia lexoviensis, si venerit, nihil asserere verebitur. Notus enim mihi est, et in talibus expertus sum ejus fallacias. De abbate quis dubitat? Postremo scripsit mihi episcopus pictavensis, quod adversus abbatem S. Augustim nihil potucrat impetrare, etsi plurimani dedisset operam. Ibimus tamen illuc auctore Deo, quoniam ita præcipitis, et quid possimus experiemur. Sed si frustra, nobis imputari non debet; quoniam, ut ait ethicus,

• Non est in medico semper reveletur ut æger.
• Interdum docta plus valet arte malum.

Cæterum an recte mecum agatis prudentia vestra dijudicet. Nostis enim, si placet reminisci, quoniam, quando recessi à vobis, hoc mihi dedistis consilium, ut Parisius morarer omnino scholasticus, nec ad ecclesiam romanam diverterem, ut vel sic declinarem suspiciones; nec approbastis etiam quod ducebam fratrem meum, eo quod sumptus magnos nos facere oporteret, possetque tolerabilius Exomæ morari. Ad quod cum ego responderem ea quæ fiatris mei occasione comes Reginaldus episcopo exoniensi objecerat, meum consilium approbastis. Sic ergo discessi, instructus a vobis ut Parisius sedem figerem, et me studerem omnino scholaribus conformare. Deus mihi testis est quod, quando recessi à vobis, duodecim denarios in toto mundo non habebam, nec aliquid, quod ego scirem ad usum meum. Vascula quidem habebam pauca fere quinque marcarum omnibus hospitii nostri sociis satis nota; et eram quidem, quod multi sciunt, alreno ære, sed meo onere, graviter pressus. Accepi ergo decem marcas mutuas; sed, antequam egrederer Cantuaria, in sarcinulis et instructione clientum tres earum expendi. Deinde per manum Willelmi, filii Pagani, liberalitatis vestræ septem marcas accepi, tres adhuc, ut jusseratis, accepturus: quod enim minus factum est, vobis nequaquam imputandum est.

Vemens ergo Parisius, juxta instructionem vestram, pro tempore, ut videtur, commodum conduxi hospitium et antequam illud ingrederer, duodecim fere libras expendi; neque enim introitum potui obtinere, nisi in annum totum pretio prærogato. Equos itaque distraxi, et me disposui ad residendum potius quam ad peregrinandum. Unde et imparatior sum ad circuitus quos præscribitis faciendos, qui non possunt sine sumptibus fieri, præsertim ab homine ecclesiasticum habente officium notitiamque multorum. Præterea regis indignationem gratis, conscientia teste, sustineo; et, si me nunciis ejus opposuero, gravius sustinebo. Unde milii, si placet, in talibus quæ æque commode possent per alios exerceri, magis parcere debetis. Et tamen, quantum expensæ permiserint undecumque quæsitæ, quod jusseritis exsequar: vos autem videritis quid jubeatis. Et quia ecclesia romana est in ea conditione quam nostis, nihil mihi videretur consultius in mundanis, quam duabus rebus operam dare. Altera quidem est, ut eximatis vos utcumque a laqueis creditorum: altera, ut domini regis, quatenus secundum Deum fieri potest, quæratis gratiam. Deus mederi potest; sed ecclesia romana non feret opem, et, ut timeo, rex Francorum baculus arundineus est. Præterea, si placet, cum Gaufrido, nepote vestro, misericordiam faciatis. Tempus est enim: nam ex quo hospitium meum ingressus est, quantum perpendere potui, honeste se habet et literis operam dat et diligentiam; exhibuit eum dominus pictavensis antequam veniret, et primo dedit ei quinque marcas, deinde centum solidos Andegavensium. Unde, si placet, cum amicis episcopi pictavensis debetis benignius agere, et in collocanda filia Willelmi, filii Pagani, non debetis, si placet, aliquam exercuisse duritiam, saltem pro episcopi reverentia. Valete.

No. VII. (page 139.)

Letter relative to the Intrigues of Henry II. at the Court of Rome, and the Mission of two Legates into France.1 (ad 1169.)

Amicus amico. Actiones gratiarum debitas parturit animus; sed, ut ait propheta, vires non habet parturiens; nam devotionis effectum suspendit hactenus persecutionis acerbitas. sed affectum quin in partum gratulationis erumpere gestiat, nulla vis potest aut poterit cohibere. Et quidem, Deo propitiante, jam in eum calculum Christi et ecclesiæ suæ causa perducta est, ut de cætero perichtari non possit, eo quod schismatis capita defecerunt, et Anglicanæ ecclesiæ malleus, comprehensus in operibus suis, de cætero cui innitatur invenire non valet. Ventum erat ad summum, ubi constat habitudines periculosas esse, cum ille qui, sollicitando tam curiam quam schismaticos, Fredericum videlicet et complices suos, videns se hac via non posse proficere adversus Dominum et adversus Christum ejus, trausmissa legatione confugit ad Italiæ civitates, promittens Mediolanensibus tria millia marcarum et murorum suorum validissimam reparationem, ut, cum aliis civitatibus quas corrumpere moliebatur, impetrarent a Papa et ecclesia romana dejectionem vel translationem cantuariensis archiepiscopi. Nam, ob eamdem causam Cremonensibus duo millia marcarum promiserat, Parmensibus mille, et totidem Bononiensibus. Domino vero Papæ obtulit, quia data pecunia liberaret eum ab exactionibus omnium Romanorum, et decem millia marcarum adjiceret, concedens etiam ut tam in ecclesia cantuariensi, quam in aliis vacantibus in Anglia, pastores ordinaret ad libitum. Sed quia fidem multa promissa levabant, et in precibus manifesta contrnebatur iniquitas, repulsam passus est; et, quod per se impetrare non poterat, regis Siculi viribus conatus est extorquere. Sed nec ille, licet ad hoc toto nisu syracusanus episcopus et Robertus, comes de Bassevilla, multiplicatis intercessoribus, laboraverint, exauditus est pro sua reverentia, vel potentia, vel gratia, quamvis eam in ecclesia romana plurimam habeat. Dimissi sunt ergo nuncii regis impotes voti, hoc solum impetrato, ut dominus Papa mitteret nuncios qui pacem procurarent, Gratianum scilicet subdiaconum, et magistrum Vivianum, Urbis-Veteris archidiaconum, qui munere advocationis fungi solet in curia. Eos tamen ante, præscripta forma pacis, sacramenti religione adstrinxit, quod præfinitos terminos non excederent, mandatis quoque adjiciens ut a regis sumptibus abstineant, nisi pace ecclesiæ impetrata, et ne ultra diem qui eis præstitus est, aliquam faciant moram. Forma autem pacis quæ archiepiscopo expressa est, nihil inhonestum continet vel quod ecclesiam dedeceat aut personam, nec auctoritatem ejus in aliquo minuit, quin libere, omni occasione et appellatione cessante, in ipsum regem, in regnum et personas regm, severitarem ecclesiasticam valeat exercere, prout sibi et ecclesiæ Dei expedire cognoverit. Consilium tamen amicorum virorumque sapientum est, ut dum pacis verba tractantur, mitius agat et multa dissimulet; postea, si (quod absit!) pax non processerit, gravius quasi resumptis viribus persecutores ecclesiæ prostraturus.

Spera ergo, dilecte mi, et quidquid interim audieris, non movearis, quia Deus in tuto posuit causam suam. Audies forte superbiam Moab, sed memineris quod superbia major est quam fortitudo ejus. Nam territi sunt in Sion peccatores, possedit timor hypocritas, qui, nisi revertantur a pravitate sua, expellentur et stare non poterunt. Jam enim securis ad radicem eorum posita est, et ventilabrum habet angelus in manu sua, ut grana discernat a paleis. Præfati nuncii ad regem profecti sunt, sed quid apud ipsum invenerint nondum nobis innotuit. Hoc tamen certum est quod se rex verbo et scripto obligavit ad exequendum consilium et mandatum domini Papæ, scriptumque ejus præ manibus est, a quo si resiherit, facile convincetur: sed nec sic credendum censuit ecclesia, antequam verborum fidem operum testimonio roboraret. Salutatus a te plurimum et affectuose te resalutat archiepiscopus, se ad amorem et honorem tuum exponens promptissima devotione.

No. VIII. (page 139.)

Letter op Thomas Beket to Cardinal Albert, on the conduct of the Court of Rome towards him.1 (ad 1170.)

Thomas, cantuariensis archiepiscopus, Alberto cardinali. Utinam, dilecte mi, aures vestræ sint ad ora nostratum, et andiant illa quæ in ignominiam ecclesiæ romanæ cantitantur in compitis Ascalonis! Aliquid consolationis novissimi nuncii nostri videbantur a sede apostolica retulisse in literis domini Papæ; sed earum auctoritas evacuata est missis a latere literis ut in perniciem ecclesiæ Sathanas absolveretur. Soluti sunt enim apostolico mandato Londomensis et Saresberiensis episcopi, quorum alter incentor schismatis et totius malitiæ artifex ab initio dignoscitur exstitisse, et tam Saresberiensem quam omnes quos potuit in crimen inobedientiæ impegisse. Nescio quo pacto pars Domini semper mactatur in curia, ut Barrabas evadat et Christus occidatur. Auctoritate curiæ jam ni finem sexti anni proscriptio nostra et ecclesiæ calamitas protracta est. Condemnantur apud vos miseri exules, innocentes, nec ob aliud, ut ex conscientia loquar, nisi quia pauperes Christi sunt et imbecilles et a justitia. Dei recedere noluerunt; absolvuntur e regione sacrilegi et homicidæ, raptores impœnitentes, quos, mundo reclamante, nec a Petro, si præsideret, apud Deum absolvi posse, libera voce, Christo auctore, pronuncio. Ait enim in evangelio secundum Lucam: Si peccaverit in te frater tuus, increpa illum; et si pœnitentiam eqerit, dimitte illi. Et si septies in die peccaverit in te, et septies in die conversus fuerit ad te, dicens, Pœnitet me, dimitte illi. Numquid otiosa sunt verba Christi quibus ait, Si pœnitentiam egerit, si conversus confiteatur dicens, Pœnitet me? Nequaquam de otiositate verbi redditurus est in die judicii rationem, sed potius eos damnaturus qui, contra formam quam dedit, iniquos sine confessione et pœnitentia vanis absolutionibus justificare præsumunt, et vivificare animas quæ non vivunt. Certe, si res ablata reddi potest, et non redditur, non agitur pœnitentia, sed fingitur. Profecto Spiritus Sanctus, ut scriptum est, effugiet fictum: quoniam ipse veritas est, et non figmentum. Obliget se qui audet, nec venturi judicis formidet sententiam; raptores, sacrilegos, homicidas, perjuros, sanguinarios et schismaticos impœnitentes absolvat: ego quæ ecclesiæ Dei ablata sunt impœnitenti nunquam remittam. Nonne nostra, aut potius ecclesiæ spolia sunt quæ nuncii regis cardinalibus et curialibus larginntur et promittunt? Quæ iniquitas manifesta est, si illa quæ in ecclesiam Dei apud nos exercetur occulta est? Nos ecclesiæ libertatem tueri non possumus, quia sedes apostolica proscriptionem nostram jam iu finem sexti anni protraxit. Viderit Deus, et judicet; sed pro ea mori parati sumus. Insurgant qui voluerint cardinales; arment non modo regem Augliæ, sed totum, si possuet, orbem, in perniciem nostram: ego, Deo propitiante, nec in vita nec in morte ab ecclesiæ fidelitate recedam. Causam suam de cætero committo Deo, pro quo exulo proscriptus; ille medeatur ut novit expedire. Non est mihi ulterius propositum vexandi curiam: eam adeant qui prævalent in iniquitatibus suis, et, triumphata justitia et innocentia captivata, in confusionem ecclesiæ redeunt gloriosi. Utinam via romana non gratis peremisset tot miseros innocentes! Quis de cætero audebit illi regi resistere, quam ecclesia romana tot triumphis animavit et armavit exemplo pernicioso ad posteros? Valeat semper sanctitas vestra, nostri memor ante Deum.

No. IX. (page 139.)

Letter from Thomas Beket’s companions in exile to Cardinal Albert, on the injustice of the Court of Rome, and the conduct of the Cardinals towards them.1 (ad 1170.)

Sanctissimo domino et patri carissimo Alberto, Dei gratia S. R. E. presbytero cardinali, miseri Cantuarienses totum id modicum quod relictum est exulibus et proscriptis, sinceræ fidei et veræ dilectionis affectum. Quantum sit innocentis conscientiæ bonum nesciunt qui sinceritatem conscientiæ perdiderunt; nec veretur alienam funestis infestare consiliis, qui, semel relicta verecundia, in turpitudinis suæ defensionem præclaros viros desiderat habere consortes erroris. Utinam hæc domini Papæ sanctitas, cum ecclesiæ confusione et infamia curiæ, non esset in nostris experta periculis, eorumque saluti pariter et honestati repugnantia consilia sapientiæ et auctoritatis qua cunctis præminet vigore, ab initio reprobasset, qui persuadere ausi sunt ut innocentium proscriptionem per sex annos derisoriis dilationibus protelaret! Certe quisquis et quantuscumque fuerit ille consultor illico audisse debuerat: Vade retro, Sathana, quia non sapis ea quæ Dei sunt. Nec persuadebitur mundo quod suasores isti Deum saperent; sed potius pecuniam, quam immoderato avaritiæ ardore sitiunt, olfecerunt: ideoque, prædonibus et sacrilegis adherentes consensu, consiliis instruentes, armantes patrociniis, insurrexerunt in pauperes Christi. acceptantes munera, secuti retributiones. Nec possunt illorum latere nomina, quæ tum evidentia operis manifestat, tum relatio nunciorum partis adversæ, tum attestatio literarum quibus gloriantur apud regem Anglorum se pro eo stetisse viriliter, et quod illis tacentibus erat credibile, persuasisse domino Papæ ut præfati regis immanitatem in tanta patientia sustineret in quo timendum est ne seductus sanctus erraverit nimis, adeo ut, quod in ecclesiam Dei deliquit, etiam cum voluerit, nequeat emendare; sic solet Deus talia plerumque punire delicta, ut qui divinitus oblata gerendorum opportunitate non utitur, eadem illi in perpetuum auferatur. Scrutanti legem loquimur et scienti, qui quod dicitur sibi familiaribus clarum habet exemplis.

Etsi tamen (ut culpam suam, quam sic magis auget, purgare curia videatur) ut nuncios nostros retorquet quod ecclesiæ Dei de tam manifestis injuriis et damnis justitia non sit exhibita; ergo, quasi re bene gesta, consulunt ut sapientiores mittanius, ac si per se non sit patens injuria, damna sint vel pauca vel modica, sæpc non sit prædo commonitus, nunciis nostris illatæ non sint atrociores injuriæ, diu, immo nimis et ultra omnem modum et contra æquitatem non sit exspectata correctio. Non sunt in nobis, pater, sapientes ille quos quærunt, non potentes aut divites, quos semper contra ecclesiam Dei et nos habere locum videmus in curia, ut assidue redeant cum triumpho. Vix sustentamur aliena stipe, et fere, nisi nos gratia conservaret, ab ecclesia romana attriti, qui soli in orbe occiduo pro illa dimicamus, deserere cogimur causam Christi et ecclesiæ contemnere libertatem. Potuit ab initio in solum regem Anglorum et nostræ proscriptionis et deprædationis ecelesiæ culpa refundi, qui per se et satellites suos, sine miseratione ætatis et sexus, sine reverentia dignitatis aut ordinis, circiter quadringentos innocentes addixit exilio, cantuariensem cum omnibus possessionibus et bonis suis confiscavit ecclesiam, bona vacantium sedium occupans, non permisit in eis episcopos et abbates regulariter ordinari. Dici non potest quot animæ sine confirmationis sacramento excesserint: quot causæ cum ecclesiarum et injuste oppressorum dispendio expiraverint; quanta injustitia totam possedit Angliam; quanta perditioni animarum janua Sathanæ sit aperta, pastoribus ovium Christi aut in exilium actis, aut coactis obmutescere et silere a bonis, aut illectis ut præberent sub prætextu religionis et dispensationis arma iniquitatis peccato, et ipsos serpentes et antiqui serpentes membra perniciosis consiliis toxicarent.

Tantas et tam patentes Christi injurias sæpe, immo continue per sex annos, prosecuti sumus in auditoriis vestris, parati in ipsa malorum novitate, cum adhuc essetis Senonis et nuncii regis adessent, appellationes prosequi quæ vel a nobis vel contra nos fuerant institutæ. Non placuit ut audiremur tunc, quando nobis adhuc aliquid, etsi modicum, suberat facultatis, et amicis et adjutoribus nonnihil spei. Longum erit et vobis, ut timemus, tædiosum, si retexamus quoties nos obtulerimus ad agendum; nec placuit ut audiremur, et adversariis nostris, oppressoribus ecclesiæ, facta est, ut scitis, non prosequendæ appellationis indulgentia. Interim, si pater noster dominus cantuariensis vellet ablata remittere, et perniciosum compositionis ineundæ coætaneis et posteris præbere exemplum, pacem facere, vobis non interponentibus partes vestras, cum rege potuerat et redire in gratiam familiaritatis antiquæ. Sed absit hæc lues a mentibus nostris, ut pro quolibet temporali emolumento jugulemus animas nostras, insanabili plaga conscientias vulneremus, et nefando voluptatis aut avaritiæ mercimonio vendamus ecclesiæ libertatem, et posteros pravo corrumpamus exemplo! Faciant hoc, si volunt, alu, aut potius nullus faciat; quia nos ita instituti sumus a sanctis patribus qui cantuariensem ecclesiam rexerunt in laboribus multis, et tandem mercedem laborum receperunt a Domino. Idem qui auctor propositi, conscientiæ nostræ testis est Deus, quod dominus cantuariensis præelegit in exilio mori, quam perniciosam ecclesiæ et probrosam inire concordiam: et si hæc (quod absit!) attentaret, rarus est inter nos, si quis tamen, qui deinceps illius posset dominium aut consortium sustinere.

Nobiscum de pace ecclesiæ mediantibus amicis tractabatur, cum Joannes de Oxeneford Romam proficiscens, et manifesto multis justificatus perjurio rediit triumphator, et ab apostolica sede furenti, quasi per se non satis insaniret, cornua attulit peceatori. Ab ea die proscriptio nostra, quæ antea soli regi et suis poterat imputari, ecclesiam romanam dissimulatione vel consensu auctorem habuit, cum persecutori in malitia perduranti sit indulta dilatio, et quodammodo licentia præstita incubandi ecclesiis et torquendi innocentes; et nobis si quid solatii videbatui esse porrectum, statim e latere nunciis aut literis impediebatur, ne votivum aut debitum sortiretur effectum. Nobis etiam tacentibus, rerum eventus ita esse convincit. Ecce enim cum pax nostra, sicut multi noverunt, esset in januis, et ecclesia solatium, ut putabamus, efficax a sanctissimo patre romano pontifice accepisset, supervenientes nuncii regis abstulerunt pacem, et, absolutis excommunicatis nostris, etiam spem reconciliationis visi sunt præclusisse. Siquidem denunciaverunt iis et aliis adversariis nostris ut, si libuerit, sex annorum appellationes, quas toties prosecuti sumus et interdum obtinuimus, prosequantur in festo beati Lucæ, scituri quod nullum eis honoris, officii, beneficii aut famæ dispendium generabitur ex hoc quod tanto tempore excommunicati fuerunt. Namque in eo, maxime apud nostrates, justitia viget ecclesiastica, quod qui per annum excommunicationem sustinent, notari solent infamia. Sed ecce ab hujus novitatis exemplo et quasi apostolico privilegio quod continctur in literis, solutus est ecclesiasticus vigor. Quid ergo superest nisi ut nullius momenti sit apud provinciales sententia, quam sine omni pœna vident tam facile posse dissolvi?

Juraverunt tamen, ut dicitur, se staturos mandato domini papæ; sed præcipitur esse absconditum. Deus bone! quid rei est quod quæ contra ecclesiam fiunt, libenter prædicantur in foro ut trahi possint ad consequentiam; et si quid pro ecclesia fit, cujus exemplum possit esse laudabile et prodesse in posterum, illud apostolica sedes jubet abscondi? Cum ergo sic apud vos, prævalentibus fautoribus regis aut potius malitiæ aut pecuniæ amatoribus, causa Christi tractetur, cur a nobis exigitur ut mittamus nuncios sapientes, quasi vos ipsi non debueritis tam justam causam, tam manifestam, defendere, etiam tacentibus universis? At enim estis in mundi cardine constituti, ut liberetis pauperem a potente, ut justitiam decernatis et faciatis inter filios hominum. Nos sane viros honestos et literatos credebamus, quos via romana absorbuit: quæ tandem nobis utilitas in sanguine eorum? Numquid mittemus plures ut ipsi moriantur, ut innocentium minatur numerus vel annuletur, et tyrannus, illis extinctis, licenter dominetur ecclesiæ, nullo contradicente? Si appellationes prosequendæ sunt, quare, cum nascebantur aut nondum expiraverant, non sunt examinatæ? Satius enim fuerat nobis eas tunc expidiri aut saltem denunciari nobis, ut aliquid aliud negotii ageremus, quo vitam nostram possemus utcumque transigere, et causam suam Deo committeremus expediendam. Spoliati et nudi sumus: satis hactenus delusionibus hujusmodi fatigatis consultius esse credimus, ut vitam in orationibus quam in litibus finiamus, domesticis exemplis edocti, ne de cætero non modo opera et impensa nobis periclitetur, sed et anima. Christus, cui eam committimus, ecclesiæ suæ sit patronus et causæ.

Sed fortasse dicet aliquis, quoniam pro bono pacis et quæ præmisimus gesta sunt, et toties indulta dilatio et dispensandi ratio admissa est. Utique, si pax exspectatur a Deo, peccatis et his quæ contra legem fiunt procuranda non est; si a Deo futura non est, nec est ecclesiæ necessaria, nec alicui utilis. Bonorum nostrorum non indiget Deus, sed certe peccatorum nostrorum minus, ad expediendam justitiam et misericordiam suam: et fortasse tamdiu dilata est pax, quia non via Domini, sed humana procurabatur astutia. Excessimus modum; sed urget nos necessitas, quæ nec modo nec regulæ necessitate arctatur; et Spiritus Sanctus, qui in vobis est, persuadebit ut necessario excedentibus indulgeatis et compatiamini. In summa, pietatis vestræ genibus provoluti, supplicamus attentius ut hæc omnia intimetis domino papæ, et persuadeatis ei ne de cætero circumventoribus credat, qui, amore sordium allecti, ipsum conantur inducere, ut in læsione nostra animam suam perdat et causam Christi.

No. X. (page 139.)

Letter of John of Salisbury on the Landing of Thomas Beket, and his reception in England.1 (ad 1170.)

Joannes Saresberiensis Petro abbati Sancti-Remigii. Mora mea rectissime poterat accusari, si non eam necessitas excusaret. Debueram enim, ex quo primum in Angliam pedem posui, nuncium remisisse, per quem vestra dilectio de alumnorum suorum statu posset certiorari; sed, quia mihi in ipso navis egressu nova et stupenda rerum facies occurrit, alium certiorare non potui, qui ex variis opinionibus et verbis hominum reddebar incertus. Nam, triduo antequam applicarem, omnia bona domini cantuariensis et suorum annotata fuerant, procuratoribus suis ab administratione summotis, et in portubus edicto publico inhibitum est sub interminatione exilii et proscriptionis, ne quis nostrorum, si forte Angliam vellet exire, transveheretur. Piissimi tamen officiales domini regis provida nimis cautela et perniciosa nobis circumspectione præcaverant, ut archiepiscopus et sui ab exilio redeuntes nihil prorsus aut minimum invenirent præter domos vacuas ex magna parte consumptas, et horrea demolita, et areas nudas, et hoc ad consolationem diuturnæ proscriptionis et emendationem sacrilegii perpetrati. Et cum pax nobis in festo beatæ Magdalenæ fuisset reformata, et serinissimus dominus noster rex filio suo novo regi literis patentibus præcepisset ut archiepiscopo et suis omnia restituerentur in integrum, prout fuerant tribus mensibus antequam Angliam egrederentur, omnes tamen redditus nomine ejus prærepti sunt, qui usque ad Natale Domini percipi potuerunt. Plures possessiones et ecclesias quas, ipso jure et ratione pacti conventi, restitui oportebat ecclesiæ cantuariensi, adhuc publicæ potestatis auctoritate occupant curiales. Ego inter cæteros una ecclesia privatus sum, quæ quadraginta marcas annuas solvebat antecessori meo. Contigit autem me triduo applicare ante octavas beati Martini, et in ipsis octavis erat Cantuariæ synodus celebranda, in qua me vices absentis archiepiscopi gerere oportebat. Cum itaque præter spem, et contra bonam opinionem et bonas promissiones domini regis, sic omnia turbata reperissem, ut de pace nostra et de reditu archiepiscopi desperaretur ab omnibus, et me tanquam in carcere positum cognovissem, vultu hilari et animo constanti Cantuariam petii, ubi a clero et populo cum magno honore et quasi angelus Domini receptus sum, fidelibus jam ex adventu meo meliora sperantibus, eo quod eis persuasum erat quod me nullo modo archiepiscopus præmisisset, si non esset in brevi secutuius. Inde, synodo celebrata, ad novum regem profectus sum et satis humane receptus, licet concustodes sui aliquid timoiis prætenderint, suspicantes pacem nobiscum non simpliciter factam esse, sed rancoris palam remissi firmius hærere radices. Quod etsi ex variis signis patenter adverterem, sie egi ac si omnia ad votum procedere arbitrarer. Festinanter inde ad matrem meam deflexi iter, quam jam altero languentem anno, et amodo jam diem Domini cum gaudio præstolantem, ex quo me vidit, vestris et sanctorum quibus cohabitatis orationibus precor attentius commendari. Receperat autem responsum a spiritu, se mortem non visuram, donec me et fratrem meum videret ab exilio redeuntes.

Interim illi veteres amicid omini cantuariensis et ecclesiasticæ libertatis propugnatores, dominus eboracensis, episcopus Londoniensis et complices eorum, consilium inierunt cum publicanis, legatione transmissa ad dominum regem, ne præfatum cantuariensem in Angliam redire pateretur, antequam renunciaret legationis officio, et restitueret ei universas literas quas emeruerat ab apostolica sede, et repromitteret se regni jura inviolabiliter servaturum, ut sub obtentu cautionis hujus ad observantiam consuetudinum arctaretur. Dicebant quod reditus ejus domino regi damnosus et probrosus futurus erat, nisi ista præcederent. Fecerant etiam de singulis vacantibus ecclesiis senas evocari personas, in quas de pastore eligendo universitatis arbitria conferrentur, ut electiones de ecclesia in aliud regnum et palatium protractæ celebrarentur ad nutum regis: ubi, si cantuariensis ob reverentiam canonum pro officii sui debito obloqueretur, regiam offenderet majestatem; si consentiret, reus esset in Deum, et convinceretur in constitutiones ecclesiasticas incidisse. Sæpe dictus autem cantuariensis ex mandato domini regis Rotomagum venerat, inde ex promisso liberandus ab obligatione creditorum, et cum honore in patriam remittendus. Sed fefellit eum opinio, Joanne de Oxeneford afferente literas domini regis, quibus rogabat et monebat ut sine mora rediret ad ecclesiam suam, et antedicti Joannis conductu et solatio in itinere frueretur. Paruit archiepiscopus, et in redeundo æmutorum per amicos machinamenta cognovit, qui jam ad mare profecti ventum commodum exspectabant, archiepiscopo nostro in opposito littore similiter exspectante. Ubi cum de transitu eorum et machinationibus certior fieret, conatus eorum via qua potuit elisit, mittens archiepiscopo eboracensi literas apostolicas, quibus ipse et dunelmensis episcopus propter usurpatam novi regis coronationem ab episcopali officio suspenduntur. Alias quoque porrexit nuncius Londoniensi et Saresberiensi episcopis, quibus in sententiam anathematis revocantur, et suspenduntur omnes episcopi qui præfatæ coronationi interfuerunt. Quo facto, prosperior aura spirans a Flandria dominum archiepiscopum in Angliam felici navigatione perduxit, venientemque ad portum cut Sandwicus nomen est, regii satellites exceperunt, custodiis per littora dispositis, ut creditur, ad nocendum, et armatis perstrepentibus: quos antefatus Joannes de Oxeneford cohibuit et compulit arma deponere, non tam, ut putatur, favore nostrorum, quam ne temeritas eorum dominum regem et liberos suos nota proditionis inureret. Exegerunt tamen ut alienigenæ qui cum archiepiscopo venerant, sacramentum præstarent de servanda fidelitate regi et regno. Nec apparebat quisquam alienigena præter Simonem, senonensem archidiaconum, qui ad præstandum juramentum facile fuisset inductus, si archiepiscopus permisisset: qui, exempli perniciem veritus, respondit bonis moribus hoc prorsus esse contrarium, ut inaudita barbarie compellantur hospites et peregrini ad hujus modi juramenta. Et fortasse satellites vim parassent, nisi eos compeseuisset tumultus popularis, verentes plebis impetum, quæ sic de recepto pastore gavisa est ac si de cœlo inter homines Christus ipse descenderet.

Cum vero se die sequenti Cantuariæ recepisset, venerunt ad eum alterius archiepiscopi et episcoporum suspensorum muncii, ad sedem apostolicam appellantes, licet eis indubitanter constaret quod summus Pontifex omnem appellandi præcluserit facultatem. Venerunt ex alio latere domini regis officiales, suo rogantes nomine et publica denunciantes auctoritate, ut archiepiscopus latam in archiepiscopum eboracensem et alios episcopos sententiam relaxaret, nisi regis et regni vellet decerni publicus nostis, ut qui novo regi coronam moliebatur auferre. Ad quod archiepiscopus respondit se nullo modo impugnare regiam dignitatem, sed potius vires, opes et gloriam pro viribus in Christo augmentaturum: hoc tamen nulla ratione impetrari posse, quin adversus præsumptores episcopos ecclesiæ suæ justitiam prosequatur. Illis autem instantibus acrius, adjecit quod pro honore domini regis, licet ei periculosum esset et vires ejus excederet, quia judex inferior superioris non potest relaxare sententiam, paratus erat duos episcopos absolvere, recepto ab eis prius, secundum morem ecclesiæ, juramento, quod domini papæ, qui eos vinxerat, mandatis obedirent. Officiales autem non permiserunt ut fieret, dicentes hujusmodi juramentum ab episcopis non debere præstari, quia regni consuetudines impugnabat. Replicavit ad hæc archiepiscopus quod, cum dominum papam modis omnibus antea sollicitasset ut eos absolveret a vinculo anathematis quo solius cantuariensis ecclesiæ auctoritate fuerant innodati, nonnisi præstito juramento solvi potuerunt. Quod si necessarium fuit ad unius episcopi sententiam dissolvendam, quæ longe inferior est edicto summi pontificis, luce clarius est quod sententia apostolica sine eo, præsertim a judice inferiori, solvi non debet. Ad hujusmodi et similes allegationes episcopi moti sunt, et sicut pro certo relatum est, ad archiepiscopi clementiam confugissent, nisi eos sæpe nominatus eboracensis seduxisset, dissuadens ne quidr ege facerent inconsulto, quem patronum habuerant in omnibus operibus suis.

Illis itaque cum indignatione properantibus ad dominum regem, noster archiepiscopus ad novum regem iter arripuit. Cum vero Londonias pervenisset, denunciavit ei rex junior ne progrederetur, nec civitates ejus aut castella intraret, sed reciperet se cum suis infra ambitum ecclesiæ suæ; et suis denunciatum est ne regni fines exeant, ne prodeant in publicum, sed, sicut se ipsos diligunt, caveant sibi. Qua denunciatione publicata, se et suos Cantuariæ recepit archiepiscopus, ibique salutare Dei cum multo discrimine præstolamur. Neque nobis via consolationis ant securitatis alia patet, quam ut vestris et sanctorum orationibus evadamus insidias eorum qui ecclesiæ sanguinem sitiunt, et quærunt ut de terra penitus avellamur, aut celerius pereamus in ipsa. Licet autem peraecutio gravissima sit, et ad archiepiscopum rarus de numero divitum et honoratorum visitator accedat, ipse tamen cunctis ad se venientibus pontificali gravitate jus reddit, deducta prorsus acceptione personarum ac munerum. Frater meus ad nostrum exoniensem, quem mihi nondum licuit visitare, profectus, lateri ejus adhæret in timore multo et jugi sollicitudine. Longum erit, et vereor ne tædium generet, si cunctas angustias nostias cœpero replicare; sed quæ desunt epistolæ supplebuntur officio portitoris. Sit itaque, si placet, miserationis vestræ sollicitare sanctum priorem et amicos Christi de Monte-Dei et Valle-Sancti-Petri, et abbates sanctorum Nicasii et Crispini, et alios sanctos familiares vestros, quatenus nobis apud altissimum suffragentur, ut eorum meritis salubriter liberemur, qui periclitamur ex nostris. Carissimos autem fratres nostros et dominos, qui beatissimo Remigio famulantur, vix sine gemitu et suspirus aut madore lacrymarum possum ad animum revocare, recolens me quondam instar paradisi feliciter incoluisse, dum illorum præsentia fruebar, et caritatis experiebar imaginem quæ in æterna vita speratur. Illos, quæso, diligentius sollicitate, ut alumnorum suorum meminerint in orationibus suis. Quam cito Deus prospera donabit, vobis currentium literarum ministerio, Christo propitiante, communicare non differam. Valeat semper et vigeat sanctitas vestra, et totius ecclesiæ prosperitas in bonis omnibus provehatur, et, si placet, pauperem sacerdotem Sancti-Cosmæ commendatum habeatis.

No. XI. (page 139.)

Extract from a Letter of John of Salisbury, relative to the Murder of Thomas Beket.1 (ad 1171.)

Passurus autem in ecclesia, ut dictum est, coram altari Christi martyr, antequam feriretur, cum se audisset inquiri, militibus qui ad hoc venerant in turba clericorum et monachorum vociferantibus, Ubi est archiepiscopus? occurrit eis e gradu quem ex magna parte ascenderat, vultu intrepido dicens: Ecce ego: quid vultis? Cui unus funestorum militum in spiritu furoris intulit: Ut modo moriaris. Impossibile enim est ut ulterius vivas. Respondit autem archiepiscopus, non minori constantia verbi quam animi, quia (quod omnium martyrum pace ex animi mei sententia fidenter dixerim) nullus eorum videtur in passione isto fuisse constantior: Et ego pro Deo mori paratus sum, et pro assertione justitiæ et ecclesiæ libertate. Sed, si caput meum quæritis, prohibeo ex parte omnipotentis Dei et sub anathemate, ne cuiquam alii, sive monacho, saive laico, majori vel minori, in aliquo noceatis, sed sint immunes a pæna sicut extiterunt a causa. Non enim illis, sed mihi imputandum est si qui eorum causam laborantis ecclesiæ susceperunt. Mortem libenter amplector, dummodo ecclesia in effusione sanguinis mei pacem consequatur et libertatem.

Quis isto videtur in caritate ferventior, qui, dum se pro lege Dei persecutoribus offerebat, in id solum erat sollicitus ne proximi in aliquo læderentur? Verba ejus nonne Christum videntur exprimere in passione dicentem, Si mequæritis, sinite hos abire? His dictis, videns carnifices eductis gladiis, in modum orantis inclinavit caput, hæc novissima proferens verba: Deo, beatæ Mariæ, et sanctis hujus ecclesiæ patronis, et beato Dionysio, commendo me ipsum et ecclesiæ causam. Cætera quis sine suspiriis, singultibus et lacrymis referat? Singula persequi pietas non permittit, quæ carnifices immanissimi, Dei timore contempto, et tam fidei quam totius humanitatis immemores, commiserunt. Non enim suffecit eis sanguine sacerdotis et nece profanare ecclesiam et diem sanctissimum incestare, nisi, corona capitis quam sacri chrismatis unctio Deo dicaverat amputata, quod etiam dictu horribile est, funestis gladiis jam defuncti ejicerent cerebrum, et per pavimentum cum cruore et ossibus crudelissime spargerent, immaniores Christi crucifixoribus, qui ejus crura quem obiisse viderant, sicut adhuc viventium, non censuerunt esse frangenda. Sed in his omnibus cruciatibus invicti animi et admirandæ constantiæ martyr nec verbum protulit, nec clamorem emiset, nec edidit gemitum, nec brachium aut vestem opposuit ferienti; sed caput inclinatum, quod gladiis exposuerat, virtute admiranda, donec con summaretur, tenebat immobile, et tandem in terram procidens recto corpore, nec pedem movit aut manum.

Carnifices autem, non minus cupidi quam crudeles, inde tam in regiæ potestatis quam divinæ majestatis injuriam ad ecclesiæ palatium redeuntes, universam supellectilem et quidquid in scriniis aut chtellis archiepiscopi et suorum potuit inveniri, sive auro sive in argento, aut vestibus aut variis ornamentis, aut libris, aut privilegiis, aut aliis quibuscumque scriptis, aut equitaturis, insatiabili avaritia et stupendo ausu diripientes, ea ut libuit inter se diviserunt, imitatores eorum facti qui inter se Christi vestimenta partiti sunt, licet eos quodammodo præcedant in scelere; et ut pontifici jam per martyrium coronato hominum gratia aurferetur, omnia scripta quæ sacrilegus prædo surripuit ad regem in Normanniam transmissa sunt. Sed nutu divino contigit quod, quanto magis athletæ fortissimi gloriam offuscare nitebatur humana temeritas, tanto eam amplius Dominus illustraret ostentione virtutis et miraculorum manifestis indiciis: quod viri impii, qui eum insatiabiliter oderant, intuentes, inhibuerunt nomine publicæ potestatis ne miracula quæ fiebant quisquam publicare præsumeret. Cæterum, frustra quis obnubilare desiderat quod Deus clarificare disponit: eo enim amplius percrebuere miracula, quo videbantur impils studiosus occultanda. Homo videt in facie, solus Deus est qui renes sciutatur et corda. Nam, cum beati martyris corpus sepulturæ tradendum esset, et de more pontificalibus indueretur, quod admodum pauci familiares ejus noverant, inventum est cilicio pedunculis et vermibus referto involutum, ipsaque femoralia ejus interiora usque ad poplites cilicina (quod apud nostrates antea fuerat inauditum) reperta sunt. Exterior tamen habitus cæteris conformabatur, juxta sapientis edictum dicentis: Frons tua populo conveniat, intus omnia dissimilia sint.

Quis referat quos gemitus, quantos lacrymarum imbres sanctorum cœtus qui aderant in revelatione sic adumbratæ religionis emiserit? Nec tamen in his omnibus persecutorum quievit furor dicentium corpus proditoris inter sanctos pontifices non esse humandum, sed projiciendum in paludem viliorem vel suspendendum esse patibulo. Unde sancti viri qui aderant, vim sibi timentes inferii, eum in crypta, antequam satellites Sathanæ qui ad sacrilegia perpetranda convocati fuerant convenirent, ante altare sancti Joannis Baptistæ et sancti Augustini Anglorum apostoli in sarcophago marmoreo sepelierunt: ubi ad gloriam omnipotentis Dei per eum multa magna miracula fiunt, catervatim confluentibus populis ut videant in alus et sentiant in se potentiam et clementiam ejus qui semper in sanctis suis mirabilis et gloriosus est. Nam et in loco passionis ejus, et ubi ante majus altare pernoctavit humandus, et ubi tandem sepultus est, paralytici curantur, cæci vident, surdi audiunt, loquuntur muti, claudi ambulant, evadunt febricitantes, arrepti a dæmonio liberantur, et a variis morbis sanantur ægroti, blasphemi a dæmonio arrepti confunduntur, illo hæc et plura quæ referre perlongum est operante, qui solus est super omnia benedictus in sæcula, et eos præelegit esse gloriæ suæ consortes quos, per veritatem fidei, zelum justitiæ, confessionis virtutem et invictæ constantiæ perseverantiam, facturus erat de virtutis ac fidei adversariis triumphantes. Quæ profecto nulia ratione scribere præsumpsissem, nisi me super his fides oculata certissimum reddidisset.

Superest itaque ut vestra parvitatem nostram instruat eruditio, an citra romani pontificis auctoritatem tutum sit in missarum solemniis et aliis publicis orationibus eum in catalogo martyrum tanquam salutis præsidem invocare, an adhuc ei quem Deus tantis miraculorum clarificavit indiciis, quast alii defuncto orationes subventorias teneamur exsolvere. Timetur enim ne sic orandi instantia beati martyris injuria videatur, et incredulitatis prætendat imaginem post tot signorum exhibitionem nondum secura devotio. Jam super hoc consultus esset romanus Pontifex, nisa quia facultus transeundi adeo omnibus præclusa est, ut nullus ad navigium admittatur nisi literas regis ante poirexerit. Nobis tamen interim consultius esse videtur ut assistamus Domini voluntati, et quem ipse honorare dignatur ut martyrem, nos, sive cantemus, sive ploremus, ut martyrem veneremur. Nam fere in omnibus mundi paitibus Deus, non exspectata cujuscumque hominis auctoritate, potuit et consuevit clarificare quos voluit: quod sapienti non potest esse ambiguum, qui varias scripturas solerti indagatione diligentius perscrutatur.

No. XII. (page 139.)

Narrative of the Murder of Thomas Beket, by Edward Grim, who was wounded while endeavouring to defend him.1

Abierunt tum quidam magni viri ad regem, et sanctum martyrem detulerunt, ita ut rex gravissime commotus iteratis vocibus ita dixisse feratur: Inertes ac miseros homines enutrivi et erexi in regno meo, qui nec fidem servant domino suo, quem a plebeio quodam clerico tam probrose patiuntur illudi. Aderant ibi nobiles quatuor genere conspicui, et e familia regis. Ii hæc verba ex ore regis rapientes, secus ea, quam rex vellet, interpretati sunt: moxque in necem sancti viii conspirarunt, nescienteque rege, mare celerrime trajecerunt, rege, ubi id comperit, suspicante mali quippiam illos moliri, mittenteque nuncios, qui eos revocarent: sed illi jam longius antecesserant, quam ut possent revocari. Invito quidem rege cæsum ab illis fuisse archiepiscopum, vel inde satis liquet, quod ibi comperit crudelissimum facinus, inciedibili dolore et horrore correptus fuit. Voluerat ille vel in carcerem eum conjicere, aut alio modo coercere, ut a sententia illum deduceret. Sed illi homines nefarii postquam in Angliam venerunt, adjunctis sibi quibusdam ministris regis, quos archiepiscopus excommunicarat, et militum satellitumque coacta manu, mentiebantur se jussos a rege, tollere e medio archiepiscopum. Itaque die illo, qui sanctorum Innocentum festum sequitur, absoluto jam prandio, sese colligunt adversus virum pium et innocentem, qui jam in interiorem domum secesserat cum domesticis, de negotiis tractaturus. Soli autem quatuor cum uno satellite ingressi sunt, itumque illis obviam est honorifice, tanquam domesticis regis. Illi jubent dici archiepiscopo, velle se cum ipso regis nomine colloqui. Annuit vir sanctus, ut introducantur. Introducti diu sedent taciti et neque salutant, neque appellant archiepiscopum. Tacet etiam ipse aliquamdiu: postea salutat pacifice. Illi pro salutatione reddunt maledicta, adeoque in necem ejus ferebantur præcipites, ut nisi ostiarius clericos, quos vir sanctus exire jusserat, revocasset, hasta quadam, quæ illic stabat, illum confodere voluerint, uti postea confessi sunt.

Intro autem reversis clericis, qui primarius erat in his quatuor viris, ita ait: Rex controversiis omnibus consopitis, te ad tuam sedem remisit: tu maleficus bona compensans, eos, quorum opera filius regis coronatus est, a suo ministerio suspendisti, ministros regis anathemate percussisti, ut satis appareat, te filio regis, modo possis, coronam auferre constituisse. De his utrum coram rege purgare te velis, edicito. Ea enim causa nos huc missi sumus. Respondit vir sanctus: Testis est Deus, nunquam me filio regis coronam eripere voluisse, cui ego mallem tres alias adjungere cum regnis amplissimis, modo id recte atque ordine fieri possit. Neque vero ego suspendi a ministerio episcopos, sed dominus Papa id tecit, nec me decet absolvere, ut vos vultis, quos ille ligavit. Tum illi: Jubet, inquiunt, rex ut cum omnibus tuis e regno excedas. Contra archiepiscopus: Sed me deinceps, ait, Deo propitio, nemo inter ecclesiam meam et mare conspiciet. Non veni ut fugerem: hic me reperiet, si quis quæsierit. Illis objicientibus, quod animi furore percitus, ministros regis ex ecclesia turpiter ejecisset, vir sanctus cum multo spiritus fervore illis respondit: Quisquis ausus fuerit sanctæ romanæ sedis instituta, vel ecclesiæ Christi jura violare, nec ultro satisfecerit, non parcam, nec differam ecclesiastica censura coercere peccantem. Hac illi viri Dei constantia perculsi, propius accedunt, dicuntque ei: In capitis tui periculum hæc prolocutus es. At vir sanctus: Non me, inquit, terrent minæ vestiæ: nec gladii vestri promptiores sunt ad feriendum, quam ego ad martyrium obeundum Alium quærite, qui vos fugiat: me collocato pede pro Domino meo præliaturum comperietis. Illis cum clamore et contumeliis exeuntibus, vir Dei suos consolabatur, et, ut nobis visum est, qui præsentes adfuimus, ita sedebat imperterritus, ac si ad nuptias invitatus esset ab illis.

Mox revertuntur illi loricati, accinctique gladiis, et securibus armati. Fores autem clausæ erant, nec pulsantibus aperiebatur. Tum illi occultiore via per pomarium ad sepem ligneam divertunt, ferroque et magna vi sibi aditum parant. Eo horribili strepitu ministri et clerici pene omnes territi fugerunt. Hortantibus illis, qui remanserant, ut vir sanctus in ecclesiam se conferret, plane recusavit. Non enim tali casu fugiendum erat, sed dandum potius subditis exemplum ut mallet quisque feriri gladio, quam videri legis divinæ contemptum, et sacrorum canonum eversionem. Instabant vero monachi, aiebant indecorum esse a vespertinis laudibus, quæ tum celebrabantur, ipsum abesse. Ille vero non cessit, veritus se privatum iri optata martyrii corona, si in templum esset ingressus, cujus reverentia arceri possent a tanto scelere parricidæ illi. Sane postquam ab exilio reversus fuit, sic dixisse fertur, tanquam certus jam se per martyrium hinc emigratum: Habetis hic dilectum Deo ac vere martyrem Elphegum: alium quoque vobis sine mora divina miseratio providebit. Monachi autem cum eum permovere non possent, valde invitum asportarunt in ecciesiam: quam cum ingressi essent, quatuoi illi nobiles cursu rapidissimo secuti sunt cum Hugone subdiacono deploratæ nequitiæ, quem malum clericum appellabant. Volentes autem monachi obserare foies ecclesiæ, prohibiti sunt a sancto viro, qui tum præclare dicebat: Nos patiendo potius quam pugnando, ex hoste triumphabimus; neque eo huc venimus ut repugnemus sed ut patiamur. Adsunt mox sacrilegi carnifices exclamantque furibundi: Ubi est Thomas Beket, regis et regni proditor? Eo non respondente, majori contentione vociferantur: Ubi est archiepiscopus? Tum ille plane intrepidus et imperritus: Ecce adsum, inquit, non proditor regni, sed sacerdos. Paratus sum pro illo mori, qui me redemit sanguine suo. Absit, ut propter enses vestros aut fugiam, aut a justititia recedam. At illi: Absolve, inquiunt, quos excommunicasti et suspendisti a suo officio. Nulla, ait vii sanctus, ab illis exhibita est satisfactio, itaque non absolvam. Rursus illi: Nunc igitur morieris, et recipies pro meritis. Ego vero, ait sanctus martyr, pro Domino meo mori paratus sum, ut ecclesia meo sanguine pacem et libertatem assequatur. Præcipio autem ex parte omnipotentis Dei, ne quemquam ex meis lædatis. Mox illi, facto impetu, in eum irruunt, conanturque extra fores extrahere, illic eum aut jugulaturi, aut vinctum absportaturi, uti postea confessi sunt. Sed cum difficile posset eum loco moveri, et unum ex eis acrius insistentem a se removisset, is terribili incersus furore, ensem contra ejus verticem vibravit. Tum vero pius et sanctus vir cernens adesse horam, qua promissam percipierit martyrn coronam, cervicem instar orantis inclinavit, junctisque et sursum erectis manibus, Deo et sanctæ Mariæ beatoque martyri Dionysio suam et ecclesiæ causam commendavit. Vix ea prolocutum, nefandus vir, metuens ne populus eum eriperet ex manibus ipsorum, coronam capitis ejus, vulnere capiti inflicto, tanta vi amputavit, ut pariter secaret et præcideret bracchium isthæc referentis, qui solus, cunctis et monachis et clericis præ metu fugientibus, sancto martyri constanter adhæsit, et inter ulnas eum continuit, donec altera earum amputata est. Additus inde est alter ictus in sacrum corpus ejus, et ille mansit immotus, nihil se commovens. Tertio percussus, genua flexit, dicens submissa voce: Pro nomine Jesu et ecclesiæ defensione mori paratus sum. Tum vero tertius ex illis sacrilegis percussoribus, ita procumbenti grave inflixit vulnus, ut cum sanguine pariter e capite cerebrum in ejus faciem deflueret. Quartus interim abigebat supervenientes, ut cæteri possent in ea horrenda cæde liberins versari. Quinto loco accessitis, quem ante diximus, Hugo subdiaconus execrabilis, et posito pede in collum sanctissimi martyris, quod sine horrore dici non potest, cerebrum cum sanguine per pavimentum sparsit, aitque ad illos quatuor: Abeamus hinc: iste posthac non resurget.

In his omnibus incredibilem licebat sancti martyris videre constantiam, ut qui neque manum, neque vestem opponeret percussoribus illis, nec ulluin vel verbum, vel clamorem ederet, immo ne gemitum quidem, aut aliquam doloris significationem exprimeret: sed caput gladiis oblatum teneret immotum, donec cerebro cum sanguine erumpente, tanquam oraturus, corpus in terram, spiritum in sinum Abrahæ deposuit. Cæsus est vir pius a cruentissimis illis carnificibus tempore sacro et loco sacro, in ipsa domo Dei, quarto calendas januarii, anno Christi millesimo centesimo septuagesimo.

No. XIII. (page 139.)

Letter from king Louis VII. to pope Alexander III., demanding vengeance against the murderers of Thomas Beket.1 (ad 1171.)

Domino et Patri sanctissimo Alexandro, Dei gratia summo Pontifici, Ludovicus, Francorum Rex, salutem et debitam reverentiam. Ab humanæ pietatis lege recedit filius qui matrem deturpat, neque Creatoris beneficii reminiscitur qui de sanctæ ecclesiæ illata turpitudine non tristatur. Unde specialius est condolendum, et novitatem doloris excitat inaudita novitas crudelitatis, quoniam in sanctum Dei insurgens malignitas, in pupillam Christi gladium infixit, et lucernam cantuariensis ecclesiæ non tam crudeliter quam turpiter jugulavit. Excitetur igitur exquisitæ genus justitiæ, denudetur gladius Petri in ultionem cantuariensis martyris, quia sanguis ejus pro universali clamat ecclesia, non tam sibi quam universæ ecclesiæ conquerens de vindicta. Et ecce ad tumultum agonistæ, ut relatum est nobis, divina in miraculis revelatur gloria et divinitus demonstratur, ubi humatus requiescit, pro cujus nomine decertavit. Latores vero præsentium, patre orbati, vestræ pietati seriem indicabunt. Testimonio itaque veritatis aurem mitissimam adhibite, et tam de isto negotio quam de aliis, ipsis tamquam nobis credite. Valeat pietas vestra.

No. XIV. (page 139.)

Letter from Thibault, earl of Blois, to pope Alexander III., on the murder of Thomas Beket.2 (ad 1171.)

Reverendissimo domino suo et patri Alexandro, summo Pontifici, Theobaldus blesensis comes et regni Francorum procurator, salutem et debitam cum filiali subjectione reverentiam. Vestræ placuit majestati quod inter dominum cantuariensem archiepiscopum et regem Anglorum pax reformaretur et integra firmaretur concordia. Itaque, juxta vestri tenorem mandati, illum rex Angliæ vultu hilari, fronte læta et pacem spondente, et gratiam sibi referente, recepit. Huic paci et concordiæ adfui, et me præsente dominus cantuariensis apud regem de coronatione filii sui conquestus est, quem voto festinante et ardenti desiderio in culmen regiæ dignitatis fecerat promoveri. Hujus autem injuriæ reus sibi et male conscius rex Angliæ, juris et satisfactionis ipsi cantuariensi pignus dedit. Conquestus est etiam de ipsis qui, contra jus et decus cantuariensis ecclesiæ, novum regem in sedem regiam præsumpserunt intrudere, non zelo justitiæ, non ut Deo placerent, sed ut tyrannum placarent. De illis vero liberam et licentem rex ei concessit facultatem, ut ad vestræ et suæ potestatis arbitrium in eos sententiam promulgaret. Hæc siquidem vobis, vel juramento, vel quolibet alio libuerit modo, attestari paratus sum et sancire. Sic, itaque pace facta vir Dei nil metuens recessit, ut gladio jugulum subderet et cervicem exponeret ferienti. Passus est ergo martyrium agnus innocens, crastina sanctorum Innocentium die; effusus est sanguis justus, ubi nostræ viaticum salutis sanguis Christi solitus est immolari. Canes aulici, familiares et domestici regis Angliæ, se ministros regis præbuerunt, et nocentes sanguinem innocentem effuderunt. Hujus prodigii modum detestabilem vobis scripto plenius significarem, sed vereor ne mihi in odium adscribatur; et latores præsentium patenter et plenius rei ordinem evolent, et eorum relatione discetis quantus sit mœroris cumulus, quanta sit universæ ecclesiæ et matris cantuariensis calamitas. Hanc salvo pudore non potest dissimulare romana mater ecclesia. Quidquid emm in filiam præsumitur, nimirum redundat in parentem, nec sine matris injuria captivatur filia. Ad vos itaque clamat sanguis justi, et flagitat ultionem. Vobis ergo, Pater sanctissime, adsit et consulat Pater Omnipotens, qui filii sui cruorem mundo impendit, ut mundi noxas detergeret et deleret maculas peccatorum: ille vobis insinuet vindictæ voluntatem, et suggerat facultatem ut ecclesia, inauditi sceleris confusa magnitudine, districta hilarescat ultione. Valeat Sanctitas Vestra, et, sicut vos decet, facite.

No. XV. (page 139.)

Letter in which the Bishop of Lisieux, on the part of all the Prelates of Normandy, relates to the Pope the conduct of Henry II. after the murder of Thomas Beket.1 (ad 1171.)

Alexandro papæ Ernulphus, lexoviensis episcopus, post mortem S. Thomæ. Cum, apud regem nostrum pariter congregati, de magnis ecclesiæ regnique negotiis tractaturi crederemur, subitus nos de domino cantuariensi rumor lamentabili mœrore perfudit, adeo ut in momento securitas in stuporem, et consultationes in suspiria verterentur. Per aliquos enim ab Anglis revertentes certa relatione didicimus quod quidam inimici ejus, crebris, ut aiebant, exacerbationibus ad iracundiam et amentiam provocati, temere in eum irruptione facta (quod sine dolore dicere non possumus nec debemus), personam ejus aggredi et trucidare crudeliter perstiterunt. Ad regis dcnique notitiam rumor infaustus quibusdam preferentibus penetravit, quoniam ei non licuit ignorare quod ad ejus vindictam jure potestatis et gladii videbatur specialius pertinere. Qui statim in primis nefandi sermonis initiis ad omnia lamentationum et miserationum genera conversus, regiam prorsus majestatem quasi cilicio immutans et cinere, multo fortius amicum exhibuit quam principem, stupens interdum, et post stuporem ad gemitus acriores et acerbiores amaritudines revoltus. Tribus fere diebus conclusus in cubiculo, nec cibum capere, nec consolatores admittere sustinuit; sed mœstitia perniciosiore voluntariam sibi perniciem indicere pertinaciter videbatur. Miserabilis erat malorum facies, et anxia vicissitudo dolorum: quoniam qui sacerdotem lamentabamur primitus, de regis salute consequenter cœpimus desperare, et in alterius nece miserabiliter utrumque credebamus interiisse. Porro, quærentibus amicis et episcopis maxime quid eum ad se redire non permitteret, respondit se metuere ne sceleris auctores et complices, veteris rancoris confidentia, impunitatem sibi criminis promisissent, licet ipse novas inimicitias recentibus injurus et frequentibus malefieiis compararet; arbitrari se nominis sui famam et gloriam maledictis æmulatorum respergi posse, et confingi id ex ejus conscientia processisse: sed omnipotentem Deum se testem invocare in animam suam, quod opus nefandum nec sua voluntate nec conscientia commissum est, nec artificio perquisitum, nisi forte in hoc delictum sit, quod adhuc minus diligere credebatur: super hoc quoque se judicio ecclesiæ prorsus exponere, et humiliter suscepturum quidquid in eo fuerit salubriter statuendum. Communicato igitur consilio, in hoc universorum consultatio conquievit, ut sedis apostolicæ sapientiam et auctoritatem consuleret, quam spiritu sapientiæ et potestatis plenitudine christiana fides prædicat abundantius redundare, et apud eam suam studeat innocentiam modis legitimis et canonicis approbare. Supplicamus ergo quatenus, secundum datum a Deo vobis spiritum consilii et fortitudinis, tanti sceleris auctoribus secundum facti immanitatem servitas vestra retribuat, et suam innocentiam regi pietas apostolica et in statu suo velit affectuosius conservare. Omnipotens Deus personam vestram ecclesiæ suæ per multa tempora conservet incolumem.

No. XVI. (page 139.)

Letter from Henry II. to the Pope, on the subject of the Murder of Thomas Beket.1 (ad 1171.)

Alexandro, Dei gratia summo Pontifici, Henricus rex Anglorum, et dux Normannorum et Aquitanorum, et Comes Andegavorum, salutem et debitam devotionem. Ob reverentiam romanæ ecclesiæ et amorem vestrum, quem. Deo teste, fideliter quæsivi et constanter usque modo servavi. Thomæ cantuariensi archiepiscopo, juxta vestri formam mandati, pacem et possessionum suarum plenam restitutionem indulsi, et cum honesto commeatu in Angliam transfretare concessi. Ipse vero in ingressu suo non pacis lætitiam, sed iguem portavit et gladium, dum contra me de regno et corona proposuit quæstionem. Insuper meos servientes passim sine causa excommunicare aggressus est. Tantam igitur protervitatem hominis non ferentes, excommunicati et alii de Anglia irruerunt in eum, et, quod dicere sine dolore non valeo, occiderunt. Quia igitur iram quam contra illum dudum conceperam, timeo causam huic maleficio præstitisse, Deo teste, graviter sum turbatus. Et quia in hoc facto plus famæ meæ quam conscientiæ timeo, rogo serenitatem vestram ut in hoc articulo me salubris consilii medicamine foveatis.

No. XVII. (page 139.)

Letter from Henry II. to the Pope, on the Subject of the Rebellion of his Sons.1 (ad 1173.)

Sanctissimo domino suo Alexandro, Dei gratia catholicæ ecclesiæ summo Pontifici, Henricus, rex Angliæ, dux Northmanniæ et Aquitaniæ, comes Andegavensis et Cenomanensis, salutem et devotæ subjectionis obsequium. In magnorum discriminum angustiis, ubi domestica concilia remedium non inveniunt, eorum suffragia implorantur quorum prudentiam in altioribus negotiis experientia diuturmor approbavit. Longe lateque divulgata est filiorum meorum malitia, quos ita in exitium patris spiritus iniquitatis armavit, ut gloriam reputent et triumphum patrem persequi, et filiales affectus in omnibus diffiteri, prævemente meorum exigentia delictorum. Ubi pleniorem voluptatem contulerat mihi Dominus, ibi gravius me flagellat; et quod sine lacrymis non dico, contra sanguinem meum et viscera mea cogor odium mortale concipere, et extraneos mihi quærere successores. Illud præterea sub silentio præterire non possum, quod amici mei recesserunt a me, et domestici mei quærunt animam meam. Sic enim familiarium meorum animos intoxicavit clandestina conjuratio, ut observantia proditoriæ conspirationis universa posthabeant. Malunt namque meis adhærere filiis contra me transfugæ et mendici, quam regnare mecum et in amplissimis dignitatibus præfulgere. Quoniam ergo vos extulit Deus in eminentiam officii pastoralis, ad dandam scientiam salutis plebi ejus, licet absens corpore, præsens tamen ammo me vestris advolvo genibus, consilium salutare deposcens. Vestræ jurisdictionis est regnum Angliæ, et quantum ad feudatarii juris obligationem, vobis duntaxat obnoxius teneor et astringor. Experiatui Anglia quid possit romanus pontifex; et quia materialibus armis non utitur, patrimonium beati Petri spirituali gladio tueatur. Contumeliam filiorum poteram armis rebellibus propulsare, sed patrem non possum exuere. Nam, et Jeremia teste, nudaverunt lamiæ mammas suas; lactaverunt catulos suos. Et licet errata eorum quasi mentis efferatæ me fecerint, retineo paternos affectus, et quamdam violentiam diligendi eos mihi conditio naturalis importat. Utinam saperent et intelligerent ac novissima providerent! Lactant filios meos domestici hostes, et occasione malignandi habita non desistunt, quousque redigatur virtus eorum in pulverem, et, converso capite in caudam, servi eorum dominentur eis, juxta verbum illud Salomonis: Servus astutus filio dominabitur imprudenti. Excitet ergo prudentiam vestram Spiritus consilii, ut convertatis corda filiorum ad patrem. Cor enim patris pro beneplacito vestro convertetur ad filios, et in fide illius per quem reges regnant, vestræ magnitudini promitto me dispositioni vestræ in omnibus pariturum. Vos ecclesiæ suæ, Pater sancte, diu Christus servet incolumem.

No. XVIII. (page 167.)

Political Poems of Bertrand de Born, preceded by the Historical Notices given in the Manuscripts at the head of each of the Productions of this Troubadour.

Sirvente on the League formed against Richard, earl of Poitiers, by the Scigneurs of Ventadour, Combor, Ségur, Tarenne, Gordon, and the count of Périgord.1

Bertrans de Born, en la Sazon qu’el avia guerra ab lo comte Richart, el fez si qu’el vescoms de Ventedorn, el vescoms de Comborn, el vescoms de Segur, so fo lo vescoms de Lemogas, e’l vescoms de Torena, se jureron ab lo comte de Peiregors et ab los borges d’aquellas encontradas et ab lo seingnor de Gordon et ab lo seingnor de Montfort, e si se sarreron ensems per qu’il se deffendesson dal com Richard que los volia deseretar, per so car il volion ben al rei jove son fraire, ab cui el se guerreiava, alqual el avia toltas las rendas de las caretas, de lasquals caretas lo reis joves prendia certa causa, si com lo paire l’o avia donat, e no’l laissava neus albergar segur en tota la soa terra. E per aquest sagramen que tich aquist aviam fait de guerreiar en Richart, Bertrans de Born si fez aquest sirventes:

• • Pus Ventedorn e Comborn e Segur
  • E Torena e Montfort e Guordon
  • An fag acort ab Peiregor et jur,
  • E li borges si claven d’eviron,
  • M’es bon e belh huyemais qu’ieu m’entremeta
  • D’un sirventes per elhs aconortar,
  • Qu’ieu no vuelh ges sia mia Toleta,
  • Per qu’ieu segurs non i pogues estar.
• • A! Puiguillems, e Clarens, e Granolh,
  • E Sanh Astier, molt avetz gran honor,
  • Et ieu mezeis qui conoisser la m vol,
  • Et a sobrier Engolesmes maior,
  • Qu’en charretier que gurpis sa charreta
  • Non a deniers ni no pren ses paor;
  • Per qu’ab onor pretz mais pauca terreta
  • Qu’un emperi tener à dezonor.
• • Si’l rics vescoms qui es caps dels Guascos,
  • A cui apen Bearns e Gavardans,
  • E’n Vezias o vol e’n Bernardos,
  • E’l Senher d’Ayx, e selh cui es Marsans,
  • D’aquellia part aura ’l coms pro que fassa,
  • Et eissamen aissi com el es pros,
  • Ab sa gran ost que atrai et amassa,
  • Venha s’ en sai et ajoste s’ab nos.
• • Si Talliaborcs, e Pons, e Lezinhans,
  • E Malleons, e Taunais fos en pes,
  • Et a Siurac fos vescoms vius e sans,
  • Ja non creirai que non nos ajudes
  • Selh de Toartz; pois lo coms lo menassa,
  • Venha s’ab nos, e non sia ges vans,
  • E demandem li tro que dreg non fassa
  • Dels homes qu’el nos a traitz d’entr’ els mans.
• • Entre Peitau e la Ylha’ n Bocart,
  • E Mirabelh, et Laudun, e Chino,
  • A Claraval an bastit, ses regart,
  • Un belh caslar el mieg d’un plan cambo:
  • Mas no vuelh ges lo sapcha ni lo veya.
  • Lo joves reys, que no ill sabria bo,
  • Mas paor ai, pus aitan fort blanqueya,
  • Qu’el lo veira ben de Matafelo.
• • Del rey Felip veirem be si panteya,
  • O si segra los usatges Karlo;
• • D’en Talhafer, pus so senher l’autreya
  • D’Engolesme, et elh l’en a fag do;
• • Quar non es bo de so que reys autreya.
  • Quant a dig d’oc, que puyes digua de no.

Sirvente on the Reconciliation of Bertrand de Born with Richard, Son of King Henry II.1

Al temps qu’en Richartz era coms de Peitieus, anz qu’el fos reis, Bertrans de Born si era sos enemics, per so qu’en Bertrans volia ben al rer jove que guerreiava adoncs ab en Richart qu era sos fraire. En Bertrans si avia fait virar contra’n Richart lo bon vescomte de Lemogas que avia nom n Aemars, e’l vescomte de Ventedorn, e’l vescomte de Gumel, e’l comte de Peiragors e son fraire, e’l comte d’Engoleime e sos dos fraires, e’l comte Raimon de Tolosa, e’l comte de Flandres, e’l comte de Barsolona, en Centoill d’Estarae, un comte de Gascoingna, en Gaston de Bearn, comte de Bigora, e’l comte de Digon, e tuich aquistz si l’abandoneron e feiron patz ses lui, e si s perjureron vas lui. En Aemais, lo vescoms de Lemogas, que plus l’era tengutz d’amor e de sagramen si l’abandonet et fetz patz ses lui; en Richartz cant saup que tuich aquist l’avion abandonat, el s’en venc denant Autalort ab la soa ost, e dis e juret que jamais no s’en partiria si’l no ill dava Autafort, e no venia a son comandamen. Bertrans, quant auzi so qu’en Richartz avia jurat, e sabia qu’el era abandonatz de totz aquestz que vos avetz auzit, si’l det lo castel, e si venc a son comandamen. E’l coms Richartz lo receup, perdonan li e baisan lo; et sapchatz que per una cobla qu’el fetz el sirventes locals comensa:

• Si’ l coms m’es avinens
• E non avars,

Lo coms Richartz li perdonet son brau talan, e rendet li son castel Autafort e venc sos fin amic coral; e vai s’en en Bertrans e comensa a guerreiar n Aemar lo vescomte que l’avia desamparat, e’l comte de Peiregors; don Bertrans receup de grans dans, et el a lor fetz de grans mals. En Richartz, quant fon devengutz reis passet outra mar, e’n Bertrans remas guerreian, don Bertrans fetz d’aquestas doas razos aquest sirventes:

• • Ges no mi desconort,
  • S’ieu ai perdut,
  • Qu’ieu non chant e m deport,
  • E non m’aiut
  • Com cobres Autafort
  • Qu’ieu ai rendut
  • Al senhor de Niort,
  • Car l’a volgut,
  • E pois en merceian
  • Li sui vengutz denan,
  • E’l coms en perdonan
  • M’a receubut baisan;
  • Ges no i dei aver dan,
  • Qui qu’en dises antan,
  • Ni lausengier non blan.
• • Vas mi son perjurat
  • Trei palazi,
  • E’l quatre vescomtat
  • De Lemozi,
  • E li dui penchenat
  • Peiragorzi,
  • E li trei comte fat
  • Englomezi,
  • E’n Sestols ab Gasto,
  • Et tuit l’autre baro
  • Que m feron plevizo,
  • E lo coms de Dijo,
  • E Raimons d’Avigno,
  • Ab lo comte breto,
  • Et anc uns no m tenc pro.
• • Si ’l coms m’es avinens
  • E non avars,
  • Mout li serai valens,
  • En sos afars,
  • E fis com fins argens,
  • Humils e cars;
  • E’ l coms sega lo sens
  • Que fai la mars,
  • Quan ren i chai de bo
  • Vol ben qu’ab lieis s’esto,
  • E so que no ’l te pro
  • Gieta fois el sablo;
  • Qu’aissi s tainh de baro
  • Que fassa son perdo,
  • E s’el tol que pois do.
• • Ses pro tener amic
  • Tenc per aital
  • Com fas mon enemic
  • Que no m fai mal;
  • Qu’en un mostier antic
  • De San Marsal
  • Mi jureron mant ric
  • Sobr’ un missal;
  • Tals mi plevie sa fe
  • Non feses patz ses me,
  • Qu’anc pois no m’en tenc re,
  • Ni li sovenc de me,
  • Ni ’ll membret mas de se,
  • Quant si mes a merce;
  • E non estet ges be.
• • Lo comte vueill pregar
  • Que ma maiso
  • Mi comant a gardar,
  • O que la m do;
  • Q’ades mi son avar
  • Tut sist baro,
  • Q’ab els non puose durar
  • Ses contenso;
  • Ara mi pot cobiar
  • Lo coms ses mal estar,
  • Et ieu vas lui tornar
  • E servir et onrar;
  • E non o volgui far,
  • Tro c’al dezamparar
  • Sui vengutz d’en Aimar.
• • Ma bella Esmanda’s gar
  • Hueimais de sordeiar,
  • Que ja per meilhurar
  • Non la cal trebailhar;
  • Qu’el mon non sai sa par
  • De joi ni de parlar
  • Ni de bell domneiar.
• • Domna, ab cor avar
  • De prometr’ e de dar,
  • Pois no m voletz colgar
  • Donasses m’un baisar;
  • Aissi m podes ric far
  • E mor dan restaurar,
  • Si dombres dieus mi gar.
• • Papiol, mon chantar
  • Vai a mi dons contar;
  • Per amor d’en Aimar
  • Mi lais de guerreiar.

Sirvente in which Bertrand de Born encourages Prince Henry to resume the War against his brother Richard.1

En la sazos qu’el reis joves ac faita la patz ab son fraire Richart et el ac fenida la demanda gue il fazia de la terra, si com fo la volontat del rei Henric lor paire; e’l paire li dava certa livrason de deniers per vianda, e per so que besoigua l’era, e neguna terra non tenia ni possezia; ni negus hom a lui no venia per mantenemen ni per secors de guerra; en Bertrans de Born e tuit li autre baron que l’avian mantengut contra Richart foron molt dolen. E’l reis joves si s’en anet en Lombardia torneiar e solasar; e lesset totz aquestz baros en la gueria ab en Richart. En Richartz asega borcs e chastels, e pres terras, e derroca e ars e abrasa. E’l reis joves si sojornava, torniava e dormia e solasava; don en Bertrans si fetz aquest sirventes que comensa:

• • D’un sirventes no m quam far longor ganda,
  • Tal talent ai qu’ei digua e que l’espanda,
  • Quar n’ai razon tan novella e tan granda
  • Del jove rey qu’a fenit sa demanda
  • Son frair Richart, pus sos pairs lo y comanda,
  • Tant es forsatz!
  • Pus en Enrics terra non te ni manda,
  • Sia reys dels malvatz.
• • Que malvatz fai quar aissi viu a randa,
  • A livrazon, a comte et a guaranda;
  • Reys coronatz, que d’autrui pren livranda,
  • Mal sembla Arnaut lo marques de Bellanda
  • N’il pros Guillem que conquis tor Miranda,
  • Tan fon prezatz!
  • Pus en Peitau lur mente e lur truanda,
  • No y er mais tant amatz.
• • Ja per dormir non er de Goberlanda,
  • Reys dels Engles, ni non conquerra Yrlanda,
  • Ni duex clamatz de la terra normanda,
  • Ni tenra Angieus ni Monsaurelli ni Canda
  • Ni de Peitieus non aura la miranda,
  • Ni coms palatz
  • Sai de Bordelh, ni dels Gascos part landa
  • Senliers ni de Bazatz.
• • Cosselh vuelh dar el so de n’Alamanda
  • Lai a’n Richart, sitot non lo m demanda,
  • Ja per son frair mais sos homes no blanda.
  • No com fai elh, ans asetja e’ls aranda,
  • Tolh lur castelhs e derroqu’ et abranda
  • Devez totz latz;
  • E’l reys torn lai ab aiselhs de Guarlanda
  • Et l’autre sos conhatz.
• • Lo coms Jaufres cui es Breselianda
  • Volgra fos primiers natz,
  • Car es cortes, e fos en sa comanda
  • Regismes e duguatz.

Lament of Bertrand de Born on the Death of Prince Henry.1

Lo plainz qu’en Bertrans de Born fetz del rei jove non porta autra razon sinon qu’el reis joves era lo meiller del mon. En Bertrans li volia meills qu’a home del mon, e lo reis joves ad el meills qu’a home del mon; e plus lo crezia que home del mon; per que lo reis Enrics sos paire e’l coms Richartz sos fraire volian mal a’n Bertran. E per la valor qu’el reis joves avia, e per lo grand dol que fon a tota gen, el fetz lo plaing de lui que dis:

• • Si tut li dol e’l plor e’l marrimen
  • E las dolors e’l dans e’l caitivier
  • Que hom argues en est segle dolen
  • Fosson emsems, semblaran tut leugier
  • Contra la mort del jove rei engles,
  • Don reman pretz e jovent doloiros,
  • E’l mon escurs e tenhs e tenebros,
  • Sem de tot joi, plen de tristor et d’ira.
• • Dolent e trist e plen de marrimen
  • Son remanzut li cortes soudadier
  • E’l ti obador e’l joglar avinen,
  • Trop an agut en mort mortal guerier,
  • Que tolt lor a lo joven rei engles
  • Vas cui eran li plus lare cobeitos:
  • Ja non er mais, ni non crezas que fos
  • Va aquest dan el segle plors ni ira.
• • Estenta mort, plena de marrimen,
  • Vanar te pods, qu’el melhor cavalier
  • As tolt al mon qu’anc fos de nulha gen!
  • Quar non es res qu’a pretz aia mestier
  • Que tot no fos el jove rei engles;
  • E fora miels, s’a dieu plagues razos,
  • Que visques el que mant autre envios
  • Qu’anc no feron als pros mas dol et ira.
• • D’aquest segle flac, plen de marrimen,
  • S’amor s’en vai, son joi teinh mensongier,
  • Que ren no i a que non torn en cozen
  • Totz jorns veiretz que val mens huei que ier:
  • Cascun se mir el jove rei engles
  • Qu’era del mon lo plus valens dels pros,
  • Ar es anatz son gen cor amoros,
  • Dont es dolors e desconort et ira.
• • Celui que plac per nostre marrimen
  • Venir el mon, e nos trais d’encombrier,
  • E receup mort a nostre salvamen,
  • Co a senhor humils e dreiturier
  • Clamen merce, qu’al jove rei engles
  • Perdon, s’il platz, si com es vers perdos
  • E’l fassa estar ab onratz companhos
  • Lai on anc dol non ac ne i aura ira.

Narrative of the interview between Bertrand de Born and Henry II. after the capture of the Castle of Hautefort.1

Lo reis Henrics d’Engleterra si tenia assis en Bertran de Born dedins Autafort, e’l combatia ab sos edeficis, que molt li volia gran mal, car el crezia que tota la guerra qu’el reis joves, son fillz, l’avia faicha qu’en Bertrans la il agues faita far; e per so era vengutz denant Autafort per lui desiritar. E’l reis d’Aragon venc en l’ost del rei Henric denant Antafort. E cant Bertrans o saub, si fo molt alegres qu’el reis d’Aragon era en l’ost, per so qu’el era sos amics especials. E’l reis d’Aragon si mandet sos messatges dins lo castel, qu’en Bertrans li mandet pan e vin e carn; et el si l’en mandet assatz; e per lo messatge per cui el mandet los presenz, el li mandet pregan qu’el fezes si qu’el fezes mudar los edificis e far traire en autra part, qu’el murs on il ferion era tot rotz. Et el, per gran aver del rei Henric, li dis tot so qu’en Bertrans l’avia mandat a dir. E’l reis Henrics si fes metre dels edificis en aquella part on saub qu’el murs era rotz, e fon lo murs per terra, e’l castels pres; e’n Bertrans ab tota sa gen fon menatz al pabaillon del rei Henric. E’l reis lo receup molt mal; e’l reis Henrics si’l dis: “Bertrans, Bertrans, vos avetz dig que anc la meitatz del vostre sen no vos besognet nulls temps, mas sapchatz qu’ara vos besogna ben totz.—Seingner, dis Bertrans, el es ben vers qu’eu o dissi, e dissi me ben vertat.” E’l reis dis: “Eu cre ben qu’el vos sia aras faillitz.—Seingner, dis en Bertrans, ben m’es faillitz.—E com? dis lo reis.—Seingner, dis en Bertrans, lo jor qu’el valens joves reis, vostre fills mori, eu perdi lo sen e’l saher e la conoissensa.” E’l reis quant auzi so qu’en Bertrans li dis en ploran dell fill, venc li granz dolors al cor de pietat et als oills, si que no s pot tener qu’el non pasmes de dolor. E quant el revenc do pasmazon, el crida e dis en ploran: “En Bertrans, en Bertrans, vos avetz ben drech, e es ben razos, si vos avetz perdut lo sen per mon fill, qu’el vos volia meils que ad home del mon; et eu per amor de lui vos quit la persona e l’aver e’l vostre castel, e vos ren la mia amor e la mia gracia, e vos don cinc cenz marcs d’argen per los dans que vos avetz receubutz.” En Bertrans, si’l cazec als pes, referren li gracias e merces. E’l reis ab tota la soa ost s’en anet.

No. XIX. (page 220.)

Sirvente of Richard Cœur-de-Lion on his Captivity.1

• • Ja nuls hom pres non dira sa razon
  • Adrechament, si com hom dolens non;
  • Mas per conort deu hom faire canson:
  • Pre n’ay d’amis, mas paure son li don,
  • Ancta lur es, si per ma rezenson
  • Soi sai dos yvers pres.
• • Or sapchon ben miey hom e miey baron,
  • Angles, Norman, Peytavin et Gascon,
  • Qu’ieu non ay ja si paure compagnon
  • Qu’ieu laissasse, per aver, en preison,
  • Non ho dic mia per nulla retraison,
  • Mas anquar soi ie pres.
• • Car sai eu ben per ver, certanament,
  • Qn’hom mort ni pres n’a amic ni parent,
  • E si m laissan per aur ni per argent,
  • Mal m’es per mi, mas pieg m’es per ma gent,
  • Qu apres ma mort n’auran reprochament,
  • Si sai mi laisson pres.
• • No m meravilh s’ieu ay lo cor dolent,
  • Que mos senher met ma terra en turment;
  • No li membra del nostre sagrament
  • Que nos feimes el Sans cominalment;
  • Ben sai de ver que gaire longament
  • Non serai en sai pres.
• • Suer comtessa, vostre pretz sobeiran
  • Sal dieus, et gard la bella qu’ieu am tan,
  • Ni per cui soi ja pres.

No. XX. (page 223.)

The King’s Disguise, and Friendship with Robin Hood.2

• • King Richard hearing of the pranks
  • Of Robin Hood and his men,
  • He much admir’d and more desir’d
  • To see both him and them.
• • Then with a dozen of his lords
  • To Nottingham he rode:
  • When he came there, he made good cheer,
  • And took up his abode.
• • He having staid there some time,
  • But had no hopes to speed,
  • He and his lords, with one accord,
  • All put on monk’s weeds.
• • From Fountain abbey they did ride,
  • Down to Barnsdale,
  • Where Robin Hood prepared stood,
  • All company to assail.
• • The king was higher than the rest,
  • And Robin thought he had
  • An abbot been whom he had seen;
  • To rob him he was glad.
• • He took the king’s horse by the head:
  • —“Abbot,” says he, “abide;
  • I am bound to rue such knaves as you,
  • That live in pomp and pride.”
• • —“But we are messengers from the king,”
  • The king himself did say;
  • “Near to this place, his royal grace
  • To speak with thee does stay.”
• • —“God save the king,” said Robin Hood,
  • “And all that wish him well,
  • He that does deny his sovereignty,
  • I wish he was in hell.”
• • —“Thyself thou cursest,” said the king,
  • “For thou a traitor art.”
  • “Nay, but that you are his messenger,
  • I swear you he in heart.
• • “For I never yet hurt any man
  • That honest is and true;
  • But those who give their minds to live
  • Upon other men’s due.
• • “For I never hurt the husbandman
  • That use to till the ground;
  • Nor spill their blood, that range the wood,
  • To follow hawk or hound.
• • “My chiefest spite to clergy is,
  • Who in these days bear sway;
  • With fryars and monks, with their fine sprunks
  • I make my chiefest prey.
• • “But I am very glad,” says Robin Hood,
  • “That I have met you here;
  • Come, before we end, you shall, my friend,
  • Taste of our green wood cheer.”
• • The king he then did marvel much,
  • And so did all his men,
  • They thought with fear, what kind of cheer
  • Robin would provide for them.
• • Robin took the king’s horse by the head,
  • And led him to the tent:
  • —“Thou would not be so us’d,” quoth he,
  • “But that my king thee sent.
• • “Nay, more than that,” quoth Robin Hood,
  • “For good king Richard’s sake,
  • If you had as much gold as ever I told,
  • I would not one penny take.”
• • Then Robin set his horn to his mouth,
  • And a loud blast he did blow,
  • Till an hundred and ten of Robin Hood’s men
  • Came marching all of a row.
• • And when they came bold Robin before,
  • Each man did bend his knee;
  • “O,” thought the king, “’tis a gallant thing,
  • And a seemly sight to see”
• • Within himself the king did say:
  • —“These men of Robin Hood’s
  • More humble be than mine to me;
  • So the court may learn of the woods.”
• • So then they all to dinner went
  • Upon a carpet green;
  • Black, yellow, red, finely mingled,
  • Most curious to be seen.
• • Venison and fowls were plenty there,
  • With fish out of the river:
  • King Richard swore, on sea or shore,
  • He never was feasted better.
• • Then Robin takes a cann of ale;
  • —“Come let us now begin;
  • And every man shall have his cann;
  • Here’s a health unto the king.”
• • The king himself drank to the king,
  • So round about it went;
  • Two barrels of ale, both stout and stale,
  • To pledge that health was spent.
• • And after that a bowl of wine
  • In his hand took Robin Hood:
  • —“Until I die, I’ll drink wine,” said he,
  • “While I live in the green wood.”
• • —“Bend all your bows,” said Robin Hood,
  • “And with the grey goose wing
  • Such sport now show, as you would do
  • In the presence of the king.”
• • They shewed such brave archery,
  • By cleaving stick and wands,
  • That the king did say, “Such men as they
  • Live not in many lands.”
• • —“Well, Robin Hood,” then says the king,
  • “If I could thy pardon get,
  • To serve the king in every thing,
  • Wouldst thou thy mind firm set?”
• • —“Yes, with all my heart,” bold Robin said
  • So they flung off their hoods;
  • To serve the king in every thing,
  • They swore they would spend their bloods.
• • —“For a clergyman was first my bane,
  • Which makes me hate them all;
  • But if you’ll be so kind to me,
  • Love them again I shall.”
• • —“I am the king, thy sovereign king,
  • That appears before you all.”
  • When Robin saw that it was he,
  • Strait then he down did fall.
• • —“Stand up again,” then said the king,
  • “I’ll thee thy pardon give:
  • Stand up, my friend; who can contend
  • When I give leave to live?”
• • So they are all gone to Nottingham
  • All shouting as they came;
  • But when the people them did see,
  • They thought the king was slain.
• • And for that cause the outlaws were come
  • To rule all as they list;
  • And for to shun, which way to run,
  • The people did not wist.
• • The plowman left the plow in the fields,
  • The smith ran from his shop;
  • Old folks also, that scarce could go,
  • Over their sticks did hop.
• • The king soon did let them understand
  • He had been in the green wood,
  • And from that day for evermore
  • He’d forgiven Robin Hood.
• • Then the people they did hear,
  • And the truth was known;
  • They all did sing, God save the king,
  • Hang care, the town’s our own.
• • —“What’s that Robin Hood?” then said the sheriff,
  • “That varlet I do hate;
  • Both me and mine he caused to dine,
  • And serv’d all with one plate.”
• • —“Ho ho,” said Robin Hood, “I know what you mean;
  • Come take your gold again:
  • Be friends with me, and I with thee,
  • And so with every man.
• • “Now, master sheriff, you are paid;
  • And since you are beginner,
  • As well as you, give me my due,
  • For you ne’er paid for that dinner.
• • “But if that it should please the king,
  • So much your house to grace,
  • To sup with you, for to speak true,
  • Know you ne’er was base.”
• • The sheriff could not gainsay,
  • For a trick was put upon him;
  • A supper was drest, the king was a guest,
  • But he thought ’twould have undone him.
• • They are all gone to London court,
  • Robin Hood with all his train;
  • He once was there a noble peer,
  • And now he’s there again.

No. XXI. (page 224.)

The Birth of Robin Hood.1

• • O Willie’s large o’ limb and lith,
  • And come o’ high degree;
  • And he is gane to Earl Richard
  • To serve for meat and fee.
• • Earl Richard had but ae daughter,
  • Fair as a lily flower;
  • And they made up their love-contract
  • Like proper paramour.
• • It fell upon a simmer’s nicht,
  • Whan the leaves were fair and green,
  • That Willie met his gay ladie
  • Intil the wood alane.
• • “O narrow is my gown, Willie,
  • That wont to be sae wide:
  • And gane is a’ my fair colour,
  • That wont to be my pride.
• • “But gin my father should get word
  • What’s past between us twa,
  • Before that he should eat or drink,
  • He’d hang you o’er that wa.
• • “But ye’ll come to my bower, Willie,
  • Just as the sun gaes down;
  • And kep me in your arms twa,
  • And latna me fa’ down.”
• • O whan the sun was now gane down,
  • He’s gaen him till her bower;
  • And there, by the lee licht o’ the moon,
  • Her windows he lookit o’er.
• • Intil a robe o’ red scarlet
  • She lap, fearless o’ harm;
  • And Willie was large o’ lith and limb,
  • And keppit her in his arm.
• • And they’ve gane to the gude green wood;
  • And ere the night was deen,
  • She’s born to him a bonny young son,
  • Amang the leaves sae green.
• • When night was gane, and day was come,
  • And the sun began to peep,
  • Up and raise he earl Richard,
  • Out o’ his drowsy sleep.
• • He’s ca’d upon his merry young men,
  • By ane, by twa, and by three:
  • “O what’s come o’ my daughter dear,
  • That she’s nae come to me?
• • “I dreamt a dreary dream last night,
  • God grant it come to gude!
  • I dreamt I saw my daughter dear
  • Drown in the saut sea flood.
• • “But gin my daughter be dead or sick,
  • O yet be stown awa,
  • I mak a vow, and I’ll keep it true,
  • I’ll hang ye ane and a’.”
• • They sought her back, they sought her fore,
  • They sought her up and down;
  • They got her in the gude green wood
  • Nursing her bonny young son.
• • He took the bonny boy in his arms
  • And kist him tenderlie;
  • Says, “Though I would your father hang.
  • Your mother’s dear to me.”
• • He kist him o’er and o’er again;
  • “My granson I thee claim;
  • And Robin Hood in gude green wood,
  • And that shall be your name.”
• • And mony ane sings o’ grass, o’ grass,
  • And mony ane sings o’ corn;
  • And mony ane sings o’ Robin Hood,
  • Kens little whare he was born.
• • It wasna in the ha’, the ha’,
  • Nor in the painted bower;
  • But it was in the gude green wood,
  • Amang the lily flower.

No. XXII. (page 237.)

Sirvente of Bertrand de Born to induce the Kings of France and England to go to War.1

• • Pus li baron son irat e lor peza
  • D’aquesta patz qu’an faita li duy rey,
  • Farar chanso tal que, quant er apreza,
  • A quadaun sera tart que guerrey:
  • E no m’es bel de rey qu’en patz estey
  • Dezeretatz, e que perda son drey,
  • Tro ’l demanda que fai ara conqueza.
• • Ben an camjat honor per avoleza,
  • Segon qu’aug dir, Berguonhon e Francey;
  • A rey armat ho ten hom a flaqueza,
  • Quant es an camp e vai penre plaidey,
  • E fora mielhs, par la fe qu’ieu vos dey,
  • Al rey Felip que mogues lo desrey
  • Que plaideyar armat sobre la gleza.
• • Ges aital patz no met reys en proeza
  • Cum aquesta, ni autra no l’agrey,
  • E non es dregz qu’om l’abais sa riqueza,
  • Que Yssaudun a fag jurar ab sey
  • Lo reys Henrics e mes en son destrey,
  • E no s cug ges qu’a son home s’ autrey,
  • Si ’l fieu d’Angieu li merma una cresteza.
• • Si ’l rey engles a fait don ni largueza
  • Al rey Felip, dreg es qu’el l’en mercey,
  • Qu’el fetz liurar la moneda engleza,
  • Qu’en Fransa’n son carzit sac e correy;
  • E non foron Angevin ni Mansey,
  • Quar d’esterlins foro ill primier conrey
  • Que descofiron la gent Campaneza.
• • Lo sors Enrics dís paraula corteza,
  • Quan son nebot vi tornar en esfrey,
  • Que desarmatz volgr’ aver la fin preza.
  • Quan fon armatz no vole penre plaidey;
  • E no semblet ges lo senhor d’Orley
  • Que desarmatz fon de peior mercey
  • Que quant el cap ac la ventalha meza.
• • Ad ambedos ten hom ad avoleza
  • Quar an fag plait don quecs de lor sordey;
  • Cinc duguatz à la corona Francesa,
  • E dels comtatz son a dire li trey;
  • E de Niort pert la rend ’e l’espley,
  • E Caercins reman sai a mercey,
  • E Bretanha e la terra engolmeza.
• • Vai, Papiol, mon sirventes adrey
  • Mi portaras part Crespin e’l Valey
  • Mon Izembart, en la terra d’Arteza.
  • Et diguas li m qu’a tal domna sopley
  • Que jurar pot marves sobre la ley
  • Que ’l genser es del mon e ’l pus corteza.

No. XXIII. (page 237.)

Another Sirvente of Bertrand de Born, to the same purpose.1

• • Al dous nou termini blanc
  • Del pascor ver la elesta
  • Don lo nous temps s’escontenta,
  • Quan la sazos es plus genta
  • E plus covinens e val mais,
  • Et hom devria esser plus guais,
  • E meiller sabor mi a jais.
• • Per que m peza quar m’ estanc
  • Qu’ieu ades no vey la festa,
  • Q’us sols jorns mi sembla trenta
  • Per una promessa genta
  • Don mi sors temors et esglais,
  • E no vuelh sia mieus Doais
  • Ses la sospeysso de Cambrais.
• • Pustell’ en son huelh o cranc
  • Qui jamais l’en amonesta,
  • Que ja malvestatz dolenta
  • No ’l valra mession genta
  • Ni sojorns ni estar ad ais,
  • Tan cum guerr’e trebaill e fais:
  • So sapcha ’l seinher de Roais.
• • Guerra ses fuec et ses sanc
  • De rei o de gran podesta,
  • Q’us coms laidis ni desmenta,
  • Non es ges paraula genta,
  • Qu’el pueys si sojorn ni s’engrays,
  • E membre li qu’om li retrais
  • Qu’anc en escut lansa non frais.
• • Et anc no ’l vi bras ni flanc
  • Trencat, ni camba ni testa
  • Ferit de playa dolenta;
  • Ni en gran ost ni en genta
  • No ’l vim a Roam ni en assais,
  • E ja entro que el s’eslais
  • Lo reys on pretz non es verais.
• • Rey frances ie us tenc per franc,
  • Pus a tort vos far hom questa,
  • Ni de Gisort no s presenta
  • Patz ni fis que us sia genta,
  • Qu’ab lui es la guerr’ e la pais;
  • E jovens, que guerra non pais,
  • Esdeve leu flacx e savais.
• • Ges d’en Oc e No m plane,
  • Qu’ieu sai ben qu’en lui no resta
  • La guerra ni no s’alenta
  • Qu’anc patz ni fis no ’lh fon genta,
  • Ni hom plus voluntiers non trais,
  • Ni non fes cochas ni assais
  • Ab pauc de gent ni ab gran fais.
  • Lo reys Felips ama la pais
  • Plus qu’el bons hom de Carentrais.
  • En Oc e No vol guerra mais
  • Que no fai negus dels Alguais.

No. XXIV. (page 240.)

Sirvente of the Dauphin of Auvergne on his Quarrel with the King of England.1

• • Reis, pus vos de mi chantatz,
  • Trobat avetz chantador:
  • Mas tan me faitz de paor,
  • Per que m torn a vos forsatz,
  • E plazentiers vos en son:
  • Mas d’aitan vos ochaizon,
  • S’ueymais laissatz vostre fieus,
  • No m mandetz querrs los mieus.
• • Qu’ieu no soy reis coronatz,
  • Ni hom de tan gran ricor
  • Que pues’c a mon for, senhor,
  • Defendre mas heretatz;
  • Mas vos, que li Turc felon
  • Temion mais que leon,
  • Reis e duex, e coms d’Angieus,
  • Sufretz que Gisors es sieus!
• • Anc no fuy vostre juratz
  • E conoissi ma folor;
  • Que tant caval milsoudor
  • E tant esterlis pesatz
  • Donetz mon consin Guion:
  • So m dizon siey companhon
  • Tos temps segran vostr’ estrieus,
  • Sol tant larc nos tenga dieus.
• • Be m par, quam vos diziatz
  • Qu’ieu soli’ aver valor,
  • Que m laysassetz ses honor,
  • Pueys que bon me laysavatz;
  • Pero dieus m’a fag tan bon
  • Qu’ entr’ el Puey et Albusson
  • Puesc remaner entr’ els mieus,
  • Qu’ieu no soi sers ni juzieus.
• • Senher valens et honratz
  • Que m’avetz donat alhor,
  • Si no m sembles camjador,
  • Ves vos m’en fora tornatz;
  • Mas nostre reis de saison
  • Rend Ussoir’ e lais Usson;
  • E’l cobrar es me mot lieus,
  • Qu’ieu n’ai sai agut sos brieus.
• • Qu’ieu soi mot entalentatz
  • De vos e de vostr’ amor;
  • Qu’el coms, que us fes tan d’onor,
  • D’Engolmes n’es gen pagatz;
  • Que Tolvera e la mayson,
  • A guiza de larc baron,
  • Li donetz, qu’anc non fos grieus;
  • So m’a comtat us romieus.
• • Reis, hueymais me veiretz proa,
  • Que tal dona m’en somon,
  • Cui soi tan finamen sieus
  • Que totz sos comans m’es lieus.

No. XXV. (page 280.)

Treaty of Alliance between Lewellyn Ap-Griffith, King of North Wales, with the King of France, Philip-le-Hardi.1

Excellentissimo domino suo Philippo, Dei gracia illustri Francorum regi, Loelinus princeps Norwallie, fidelis suus, salutem et tam devotum quam debitum fidelitatis et reverentie famulatum. Quid retribuam excellentie nobilitatis vestre pro singulari honore et dono impreciabili quo vos, rex Francorum, imo princeps regum terre, me, fidelem vestrum, non tam munifice quam magnifice prevenientes, litteras vestras sigillo aureo impressas, intestimomum federis regni Francorum et Norwallie principatus michi militi vestro delegastis? Quas ego in armarus ecclesiasticis tanquam sacrosanctas relliquias conservari facio, ut sint memoriale perpetuum et testimonium inviolabile quod ego et heredes mei, vobis vestiisque heredibus inseparabiliter adherentes, vestris amicis amici erimus et inimici inimicis. Id ipsum a vestra regia dignitate erga me et meos amicos regaliter observari modis omnibus expecto postulans et expeto. Quod ut inviolabiliter observetur, congregato procerum meorum concilio et communi cunctorum Wallie principum assensu, quos omues vobiscum et hujus federis amicicia colligavi, sigilli mei testimonio me vobis fidelem in perpetuum promitto; et sicut fideliter promitto, fidelius promissum adimplebo. Preterea ex quo vestre sublimitatis litteras suscepi, nec treugas nec pacem nec etiam colloquium aliquod cum Anglicis feci. Sed per Dei graciam, ego et omnes Wallie principes unanimiter confederati, inimicis nostris imo vestris viriliter restitimus, et a jugo tirannidis ipsorum magnam partem terre et castra munitissima, que ipsi per fraudes et dolos occupaverant, per auxilium Domini in manu forti recuperavimus, recuperata in domino Deo potenter possidemus; unde postulantes expetimus universi Wallie principes quod sine nobis nec treugas nec pacem cum Anglicis faciatis, scituri quod nos nullo pacto vel precio, nisi precognita voluntatis vestre benivolencia, eis aliquo pacis seu federis vinculo copulabimur.

Leg. Sigillum Loclin.

No. XXVI. (page 282.)

List of the Company of Yvain of Wales.1

La reveue de Yvain de Galles, escuier, d’un chevalier bachelier et de quatre vins dix et huit autres escuiers de sa chambre et compaignie, receue à Limoges le viii jour de septembre, l’an mil trois cens soixante et seize.

• Ledit Yvain.
• Messire Frisemen.
• Hovel Duy le pennonier.
• Jeuffroy Blouet.
• Morgant de David.
• Evignon de Hovel.
• Guiffin de Jorwrch.
• Kerbut de Cadogon.
• David de Lewelin.
• Ithet de Jorwerth.
• Jenen de Jorwerth.
• Madot de Guiffin.
• Vledin Vagan.
• Genan Vaglan de Genan.
• Hovel de Eignon.
• Kendut de Genan.
• Guiffin de Rees.
• Algont.
• David ap Da.
• Guiffin de David ap Gervrlin.
• Genan ad Madot Gervrlin.
• Thoelbaret ap Grano.
• Jenan Goch ap Gelerym.
• Guiffin ap Blewelin.
• Jenan Hardeloch.
• Madot Jenan.
• Guillerme que Benebien.
• Joquen ap Morbran.
• Jonan Vachan ap Baudi.
• Eignon ap Jorwrch.
• Robin Barch.
• Joquen Caly.
• Robin ap Bledin.
• Madot Maclor.
• Bonet Cloyt.
• Guillerm Goch.
• Simont Garin.
• Bonet Agnean.
• Hany Walice Mon.
• Gionio Vach.
• Ienan Leclerc.
• Ada Bach.
• Roes Wathan.
• Madot Bloyt.
• Willin Goth.
• Lewelin Brun.
• Morice Bath.
• Ienan Guillin ap Eguen.
• Morice Gogher.
• David Bougan.
• Eignon Bach.
• Jarwerth Bauger.
• Hovel Bath.
• Jenan Goth.
• Jenan Cloyt.
• David Bath Helquen.
• Blewelin ap Jowerth.
• Jenan ap David Bath.
• Gernil.
• David Mon.
• Jenan Bloyt.
• Guillerme Pennyes.
• Madot duy ap Greffin.
• Guillerme Karul Villion.
• Madot voel Grath.
• Jenques Metham.
• Jaquen Pollrys.
• Jaquin Lewelin.
• Holquen ap Onucaut.
• Janan Rilivlis.
• Petit David.
• Jenan ap Guiffin ap Rait.
• Willot Vennet.
• Rye Saint Pere.
• Roullin Bouteillier.
• Robin Ichel.
• Madin Duy.
• Porhours.
• Guillin Guenart.
• Guiffin Bouton.
• Jorwerth ap Grox ap David.
• Thomas Chambellains.
• Madot Brechinot.
• Tomlin Grain.
• Jehan Lourppe.
• David Grath.
• Guiffin ap Jollis.
• David Rencon.
• Wollot Rael.
• Eignon ap Jenan Amis.
• Grigy Voulhedit.
• Eignon ap David Sais.
• Waquen Achyd.
• Jenan Glvynllench.
• Morice Buellet.
• Bellin Lyn.
• Jenan ap Glvilquin.
• Guiffin ap Jenan ap Roger.
• Jouston.
• Joquen ap Guiffin.

No. XXVII. (page 282.)

List of the Company of John Wynn.1

La reveue de Jehan Win, dit Poursigant, escuier, et de quatre vins dix et neuf autres escuiers de sa compaignie faite à Bourcneuf le premier jour de may l’an mil ccc quatre vins et un.

• Le dit Jehan Win, dit Poursigant.
• Hovel Flint.
• Le grant Kinorit.
• Le grant Win.
• Ichel ap Ironeich.
• Hovel Da
• Morgan Davi.
• Gieffin Blevet.
• Lawelin ap Ironeich.
• Gruffin ap Remeich.
• Jouan Gruffin ap Ruit.
• Hovel ap Eignon.
• Le Petit Davi.
• Joaun Davi Bach.
• Philippe Viglan.
• Jouan ap Gruffin Philip.
• Jouan ap Gruffin Melin.
• Jouan Scolart.
• Lemerlin Gechc.
• Hochelin Win.
• Tegoret ap Grono.
• Gruffin Lewelin.
• Ruit ap Davi Loit.
• Moris Goth.
• Lewillin Bren.
• Moris le Petit.
• Davy ap Ada.
• Eignen Adavisez.
• Bledin Vaquan.
• Greffin ap Ris.
• Geffroy ap Ollo.
• Kinorit ap Jennier.
• Jolem ap Gruffin.
• Jouan ap Madot.
• Madot a Gruffin ap Ledin.
• Madot Breheignon.
• Ullecot Ameurit.
• Madot a Gruffin.
• Villecot Benoist.
• Davi Mairon.
• Richart Eigin.
• Jouan ap Guilinap Eignon.
• Jouan Brith de Livroc.
• Jouan Bath ap Lewelin.
• Jouan Bath ap Madot Aguillin.
• Ada Bath.
• Jouan ap Galtier.
• Drolem Sibin.
• Gieffroy ap Madot.
• Javelin Ponis.
• Jambrois Methan.
• Merudut Buelt.
• Jorweith Landoin.
• Hovel ap Jouan.
• Jomerech son frere.
• Robin Maledin.
• Gruffin Karergnon.
• Jouan loit Bicham.
• Bichart Bach.
• Thomas Win.
• Jouan Goth ap Guillin.
• Gruffin Du.
• Eignen ap Madot ap Eignon.
• Davi ap Lewelin ap Linorit.
• Davi Bangain.
• Beneich ap Jennier.
• Gruffin Breton.
• Davi Mon.
• Richard Saint Pere.
• Belin Win.
• Henrri Vanlismion.
• Davi Goch.
• Robin ap Hovel.
• Eignen Bach.
• Ironeich ap Gren ap Davi.
• Hollen ap Ontron.
• Poil Pheich.
• Jonan Guin Loich.
• Jolem ap Morbrun.
• Gienen Bach ap Ichan.
• Eignen ap Hovel.
• Jennier Ardelet.
• Gruffin ap Ichan ap Prochet.
• Robin Yehel.
• Madot ap Ris.
• Mado ap Tudor.
• Gigny Vehendit.
• Jennier ap Jalx Bach.
• Jaques Flour.
• Gnellerme Lemorit.
• Jennier Wehan ap Jennier.
• Janhin W . .
• Madot ap Hovel Bach.
• Petit Yvain.
• Davy ap Greffin.
• Madot Guan.
• Gieffroy.
• Yvain Vaquant.
• Thomelin Chambellan.
• Thomas Coill.

No. XXVIII. (page 282.)

Receipt given by Robin-ap-Llwydin, and List of his Company.1

Sachent tuit que je Robin ab Ledin, escuier du pays de Gales, confesse avoir eu et receu de Jehan Chanteprim, trésorier des guerres du Roy notre sire, la somme de quatre vins et dix frans en prest et paiement sur les gaiges de moy et huit escuiers de ma compaignie, destinez et à destiner ès guerres du dit seigneur, ès bastides de devant le chastel de Ventadour, du nombre de ii cents homes d’armes ordennés à estre illeuc soubz le gouvernement de monseigneur de Coucy, capitaine général ès pays d’Auvergne et de Guyenne; de laquelle some de iiiixx et x frans je me tiens pour content et bien paiez et en quicte le Roy nostre dit seigneur, son dit trésorier et touz autres à qui quittance en appartient. Donné soubz mon seel, ou moutier devant le dit chastel de Ventadour, le xi^e jour du moys d’aoust l’an mil iii^ciiii^xx et neuf.

La monstre ou reveue Robin ap Ledin, escuier, né du pais de Gales, et huit autres escuiers de sa compaignie du dit pais faicte à la Bastide du moustier devant le chastel de Ventador, le xi^e jour d’aoust l’an mil ccc iiii^xx et neuf.

• Premièrement, ledit Robin ap Ledin.
• Yvain ap Gault.
• Anudrier Scot.
• Edouart ap Davy.
• Clolin Baron.
• Guillaume de la Foy.
• Jehan Gras.
• Geuffroy le Roux.
• Yoquin Amorgant.

No. XXIX. (page 282.)

List of the Company of Edward-ap-Owen.1

La monstre ou reveue Edouart ap Yvain, escuier, né du pais de Gales, et neuf autres escuiers de sa compaignie du dit pais, faicte à la bastide du moustier devant le chastel de Ventador, le xi^e jour d’aoust l’an mil ccc iiii^xx et neuf.

• Premièrement, ledit Edouard ap Yvain.
• Bellin Klin.
• Davy Levi.
• Richart de Saint-Pre.
• Eygnon ap Davy Sais.
• Davy Mon.
• Yvain Cloyt.
• Yvonnet Duclary.
• Jehan le Gales.
• Proffin Borton.

Pierre Saguet, chevalier, maistre d’ostel de monsieur le duc de Berry, commis de par le Roy notre sire à veoir les monstres ou reveues des gens d’armes et arballetriers estans ès bastides de devant le chastel de Ventadour, pour cet présent moys d’aoust à Jehan Chanteprime, trésorier des guerres du dit seigneur ou à son lieutenant, salut. Nous vous envoyons attachée soubz nostre scel la monstre ou reveue Edouart ap Yvain, escuier, né du pays de Gales, et neuft autres escuiers de sa compagnie du dit pays, montez et armez souffissans pour servir le dit seigneur en ses guerres ès dictes bastides, du nombre de ii^c lances ordonnées estre illeuc soubz le gouvernement de monseigneur de Coucy, général capitaine de par ledit sire ou pays de Guienne, faicte à la bastide du moustier devant ledit chastel, le xi^e jour d’aoust l’an mil ccc iiii^xx et neuf. Sy vous mandons que au dit escuier pour lui et les dictes gens d’armes vous faictes prest et payement pour ledit moys en la manière accoustumée. Donné soubz nostre scel l’an et le jour dessus dit.

No. XXX. (page 282.)

List of the Company of Owen-ap Griffith, and receipt given him.1

La monstre ou reveue Yvain Greffin, escuier, né du pais de Gales, et neuf autres escuiers de sa compaignie du dit pais, faicte à la bastide du moustier devant le chastel de Ventador, le xi^e jour d’aoust l’an mil ccc iiii^xx. et neuf.

• Premièrement, ledit Yvain Greffin.
• Morgan Davy.
• Cegaret ap Grono.
• Yvain Bulrayt.
• Petit Riquert.
• Madot ap Hovre.
• Philippe Bathan.
• Berthelot Davy.
• Davy Goth.
• Bertran de Lisle.

Sachent tuit que je Yvain Greffin, escuier, du pays de Gales, confesse avoir receu de Jehan Chanteprime, trésorier des guerres du Roy nostre sire, la somme de cent frans en prest et paiement sur les gaiges de moy et neuf escuiers de ma compaignie du dit pays de Gales, destinez et à destiner ès guerres du dit seigneur ès bastides de devant le chastel de Ventadour, du nombre de ii^e hommes d’armes ordennés à estre illeue soubz le gouvernement de monseigneur de Coucy, capitaine général de par le dit sire au pays de Guienne; de laquelle somme de cent frans dessus dits je me tiens pour contens et bien payez et en quitte le Roy nostre sire, son dit trésorier et touz autres à qui quittance en appartient. Donné à la bastide du moutier de devant le dit chastel, soubz mon seel, le xi^e jour du dit moys d’aoust l’an mil iiic iiii^xx et neuf.

Yvain Greffin.

No. XXXI. (page 283.)

Agreement of Yvain de Galles with King Charles V. for a sum of 300,000 francs d’or, and Alliance made between them and their Subjects.2

A tous ceulx qui ces lectres verront Evain de Gales, salut. Comme les roys d’Angleterre, qui ont esté ès temps passez, meuz de mauvaiz courage et de convoitise dampnée, à tort et sanz cause et par traisons appensées, aient occis ou fait occirre aucuns de mes prédecesseurs roys de Gales et yceulx mis hors et deboutez du dit royaume, et ycellui royaume par force et puissance appliquie à eulx et detenu et ycellui soubzmis avec les subgiez du pais à plusieurs servitutes, lequel est et doit estre et appartenir à moi par la succession et comme plus prochain de sanc et de lignage et en droicte ligne descendant d’iceulx mes prédécesseurs roys d’icellui royaume, et pour avoir secours et aide à recouvrer le dit royaume, qui est mon héritage, me soye transportez devers pluseurs roys, princes et seigneurs chrestiens, et leur aye declairié et monstré clerement le droit que je y ay, en leur requerant et suppliant humblement que à ce me voulsissent aydier, et derrainement me soies traiz devers mon très puissant et très redoubté seigneur Charles, par la grace de Dieu roy de France, dauphin de Viennoys, et lui ay monstré mon droit que j’ay ou dit royaume et fait les requestes et supplicacions dessus dictes, et ycellui seigneur ayent compassion de mon estat, actendu le grant tort que les diz roys d’Angleterre ont eu en leur temps envers mes diz prédécesseurs et encores a le roy d’Angleterre qui est à present envers moy, et consideré toute la matière de mon fait de sa benigne et accoustumée clémence, qui est le mirouer singulier et exemple entire les chrestiens de toute justice et de toute grace et miséricorde pour touz opprimez relever et conforter, m’ayt octroyé son ayde et confort de gens d’armes et de navire pour recouvrer le dit royaume, qui est mon droit héritage, comme dit est; sachent tuit que je, en recongnoissant la grant amour que mon dit seigneur le roy de France m’a monstrée et monstre par vray effect en ce fait, ou quel et pour le quel mectre sus a mis et exposé du sien trois cens mil francs d’or et plus, tant en gaiges de gens d’armes, d’archiers et d’arbalestriers comme en navire et en gaiges et despens de marigniers, en hernoiz et en autres fraiz, missions et despens pluseurs, la quele somme je ne lui puis pas présentement rendre, promet loyaument et par la foy de mon corps et jure aux sains Euvangiles de Dieu, touchées corporelment pour moy et pour mes hoirs et successeurs à tousjoursmaiz, que la dicte somme de troiz cens mil francs d’or je lui rendray et payeray entièrement ou à ses diz hoirs et successeurs ou ceulx qui auront cause d’eulx, ou à leur commandement à leur voulenté, sanz autre terme, et dès maintenant ay fait et accordé pour moy, pour mes hoirs et successeurs et pour tout mon pais et subgiez perpetuelment avec mon dit seigneur le roy de France, pour lui, pour ses hoirs et successeurs roys, pour tout son pais et ses subgiez bonnes et fermes amitiez, confédéracions et aliances, si que je les ayderay et conforteray de ma personne, de mes subgiez et pays, de tout mon povoir, loyaument, contre toutes personnes qui pevent vivre et mourir. En tesmoing de ce, j’ay seellé ces lectres de mon seel. Donne à Paris, le x^e jour de May, l’an de grace mil ccc soixante douze.

No. XXXII. (page 287.)

Letter from Owen Glendowr, Prince of Wales, to the King of France, Charles VI.1

Addressed—Serenissimo et illustrissimo principi domino Karolo, Dei gracia Francorum regi.

Serenissime princeps, humili recommendacione premissa scire dignemini quod nacio mea per plures annos elapsos per rabiem barbarorum Saxonum suppeditata fuit. Unde ex quo ipsi regimen habebant, licet de facto super nos oportuit cum eis ambulare, sed nunc, serenissime princeps, ex innata vobis bonitate, me et subditos meos ad recognoscendum verum Christi vicarium luculenter et graciose multipliciter informastis; de qua quidem informacione vestre excellencie regracior toto corde; et quia prout ex hujusmodi informacione intellexi, dominus Benedictus, summus pontifex, omnibus viis possibilibus offert se ad unionem in ecclesia Dei faciendam. Confidens eciam in jure ejusdem et vobiscum, quantum michi est possibile concordare, intendens ipsum pro vero Christi vicario, pro me et subditis meis, per licteras meas patentes hac vice majestati vestre per latorem presentium presentandas recognosco. Et quia, excellentissime princeps, rabie barbarica, ut prefertur, hic regnante, ecclesia menevensis metropolitica violenter ecclesie Cantuariensi obedire coacta fuit et in subjectione hujusmodi adhuc de facto remanet, et alia quamplura inconveniencia per hujusmodi barbaros ecclesie Wallie illata extiterint, que pro majori parte in licteris meis patentibus, de quibus prefertur, plenius sunt inserta, super quorum expedicione penes dominum summum pontificem habenda, magestatem vestram actencius deprecor et exoro, ut, sicut nos a tenebris in lucem erigere dignati estis, similiter violenciam et oppressionem ecclesie et subditorum meorum extirpare et aufferre, prout bene potestis, velitis, et vestram excellentissimam magestatem in prosperitate votiva diu conservet filius Virginis gloriose. Scriptum apud Pennal, ultimo die Marcii.

Vester ad vota

Owynus, princeps Wallie

No. XXXIII. (page 303.)

The Souters of Selkirk at the Battle of Flodden Field, A Scottish Ballad of the Sixteenth Century.

• • Up wi’ the souters of Selkirk,
  • And down wi’ the earl of Home;
  • And up wi’ a’ the braw lads,
  • That sew the single-soled shoon.
• • 1 Fye upon yellow and yellow,
  • And fye upon yellow and green,
  • But up wi’ the true blue and scarlet,
  • And up wi’ the single-soled sheen.
• • Up wi’ the souters of Selkirk,
  • For they are baith trusty and leal;
  • And up wi’ the men o’ the Forest,
  • And down wi’ the Merse to the deil.

No. XXXIV. (page 316.)

The Battle of Bothwell Bridge—a Scottish

• • “O, billie, billie, bonny billie,
  • Will ye go to the wood wi’ me?
  • We’ll ca’ our horse hame masterless,
  • An’ gar them trow slain men are we.”
• • “O no, O no!” says Earlstoun,
  • “For that’s the thing that mauna be;
  • For I am sworn to Bothwell Hill,
  • Where I maun either gae or die.”
• • So Earlstoun rose in the morning,
  • An’ mounted by the break o’ day;
  • An’ he has joined our Scottish lads,
  • As they were marching out the way.
• • “Now, farewell, father, and farewell, mother,
  • And fare ye weel, my sisters three;
  • An’ fare ye weel, my Earlstoun,
  • For thee again I’ll never see!”
• • So they’re awa’ to Bothwell Hill,
  • An’ waly’ they rode bonnily!
  • When the duke o’ Monmouth saw them comin’,
  • He went to view their company.
• • Ye’re welcome, lads,” the Monmouth said,
  • ‘Ye’re welcome, brave Scots lads, to me;
  • And sae are you, brave Earlstoun,
  • The foremost o’ your company!
• • ‘But yield your weapons ane an’ a’;
  • O yield your weapons, lads, to me;
  • For gin ye’ll yield your weapons up,
  • Ye’ se a’ gae hame to your country.”
• • Out then spak a Lennox lad,
  • And waly but he spoke bonnily
  • “I winna yield my weapons up,
  • To you nor nae man that I see.”
• • Then he set up the flag o’ red,
  • A’ set about wi’ bonny blue;
  • “Since ye’ll no cease, and be at peace,
  • See that ye stand by ither true.”
• • They stell’d their cannons on the height,
  • And showr’d their shot down in the howe;
  • An’ beat our Scots lads even down,
  • Thick they lay slain on every knowe.
• • As e’er you saw the rain down fa’,
  • Or yet the arrow frae the bow,
  • Sae our Scottish lads fell even down,
  • An’ they lay slain on every knowe.
• • “O hold your hand,” the Monmouth cry’d.
  • Gie quarters to yon men for me!”
  • But wicked Claver’se swore an oath,
  • His cornet’s death revenged sud be.
• • “O hold your hand,” then Monmouth cry’d,
  • “If onything you’ll do for me;
  • Hold up your hand, you cursed Græme,
  • Else a rebel to our king ye’ll be.”
• • Then wicked Claver’se turn’d about,
  • I wot an angry man was he;
  • And he has lifted up his hat,
  • And cry’d, “God bless his majesty!”
• • Then he’s awa’ to London town,
  • Aye e’en as fast as he can dree;
  • Fause witnesses he has wi’ him ta’en,
  • And ta’en Monmouth’s head frae his body.
• • Alang the brae, beyond the brig,
  • Mony brave man lies cauld and still;
  • But lang we’ll mind, and sair we’ll rue,
  • The bloody battle of Bothwell Hill.

• Als thar haf wryten and sayd
• Haf I alle in myn Inglis layd,
• In symple speclie, as I couthe.
• * * * * * * * * *
• Bot for the luf of symple men
• * * * * * * * * *
• That strange Inglis can not ken:
• Thar sayd it for pride and nobleye.
• (Robert of Brunne’s Prologue to his Chronicle, Hearne’s edit. p. xcvii.)

• Exemplo patrum, commotus amore legendi,
• Ivit ad Hibernos sophia mirabile claros.
• (Collectanea de rebus Hibernicis, i. 112.)

• Sappi chi’ son Beltram dal Bornio, quelli
• Che diedi al Re Giovann’ i mai conforti.
• (Inferno, canto xxviii.)

• Lignum crucis, signum ducis,
• Sequitur exercitus, quod non cessit, sed præcessit,
• In vi Sancti Spiritus. (Ib.)

• Qui certant quotidie laudibus militiæ
• Gratis insigniri. (Ib.)

• Non enim qui pluribus cutem curant sumptibus,
• Emunt Deum precibus. (Ib.)

• Satis est dominicum corpus ad viaticum
• Crucem defendenti. (Ib. 640.)

• Christus tradens se tortori, mutuavit peccatori. (Ib.)

• Pro n’ay d’amis, mas paure son li don;
• Ancta lur es si per ma rezenson,
• Soi sai dos yvers pres
• (Raynouard, Choix des poesies des Troubadours, iv. 183.) See Appendix No. XIX.

• I shall you tell of a good yeman,
• His name was Robin Hode. (Ib.)

• From wealthy abbot’s chests, and churche’s abundant store,
• What oftentimes he took, he shar’d amongst the poore.
• (Robert Brune’s Chronicle, ii. 667.)

• They were outlawed for venyson
• These yemen everechone.
• (Pieces of Ancient Popular Poetry, p. 6.)

• They swore them brethren upon a day,
• To Englysshe wod for to gone. (Ib.)

• One vowe shal I make, sayde the sheriffe,
• A payre of new galowes shal I for the make. (Ib. p. 11.)

• Cum, juris apostata nostri,
• Succombet victus tibi cum Xantone Niortus...
• In Pyrenæo figes tentoria monte.
• (Guill. Britonis Philippid., ut sup. p. 285.)

• Ai Toloza e Proensa
• E la terra d’Agensa,
• Bezers et Carcassey
• Quo vos vi, e quo us vey.
• (Raynouard, Choir des poesies des Troubadours, iv. 192.)

• ... Que ton
• Los Frances e’ls escorsa,
• El’s pen e n’ai fai pon.—
• (Ib. p. 314.)

• ... Et ill clerc sont li
• Cotz e fozil.—
• (Raynouard, ut sup. v. 578.)

• The king had never but tempest foule and rain
• As longe as he was ay in Wales grounde,
• (Harding’s Chronicle, cap. ccii. at the word Henry the Fourth.)

• William Waleis...that maister was of theuves.
• (Robert Brune’s Chron., ii. 329.)

• —Latro publicus.
• (Thomas. de Walsingham, Ypodigma Neustriæ; Camden, Anglica, &c., p. 486.)

• ...The king him answered soon
• All en till Frankish as used be.
• (Wyntoun, apud Ellis, Metrical Romances.)

[1 ] Matt. Paris, ii. 911.

[1 ] See Guizot, Essais sur l’histoire de France, p. 422.

[2 ] Annales Monasterii Burtoniensis, apud rer. Anglic. Script. (Gale), p. 413.

[3 ] Matth. Paris., continuatio, ii. 992.

[1 ] Matt. Paris, p. 989.

[2 ] The burthen of the song runs thus:—

• Richard, that thou be ever trichard,
• Tricthen shall thou never more.
• (Warton, Hist. of English Poetry, i. 47.)

[3 ] Matth. Paris.

[4 ] Quod non minus occubuit Simon pro justa ratione legitimarum possessionum Angliæ, quam Thomas pro legitima ratione ecclesiarum Angliæ olim occubuerat. (Chron. de Mailros, apud rer. Anglic. Script. Gale, i. 238.)

[1 ] Propter justissimam causam indigenarum Angliæ quam manu susceperat defendendam, adire tumulum ejus. (Ib.)

[2 ] Sed numqued...Deus dereliquit Simon emsine miraculis? Non; et id circo deducamus miracula divinitus per ipsum facta. (Ib. p. 232.)

[3 ] Memoirs of the Society of An iquaries of London, xiii. 248.

[4 ] The Lord’s Prayer, in the reign of Henry II., did not contain a single Norman word.

[1 ] Rustici Londonienses qui se barones vocant ad nanseam (Script. rer. Anglic.)

[2 ] Matth. Paris.

[1 ] Rymer, Fœdera, iii. pars ii. p. 7.

[2 ]Ib. p. 156.

[3 ] Froissart, ii. cap. lxxiv. p. 133.

[5 ] Froissart, ii. cap. lxxiv. p. 133.

[1 ] Quidam liber homo bondo. (Domesday Book, passim.)

[2 ] Madox, Formulare Anglicanum, passim.

[3 ] See vol. i. p. 162, and Appendix, No. IX.

[1 ] Froissart ii. cap. lxxiv—lxxix.

[2 ] Congregationes et conventicula illicita. (Rymer, iii., pars iii. p. 123.)

[3 ] Froissart, loc. sup. cit.

[4 ] H. Knyghton, ut sup. lib. v. col. 2633.

[1 ]Ib. col. 2367-8.

[2 ]Ib. col. 2364.

[3 ] Froissart, ii. lxxiv. p. 133.

[1 ] Knyghton, loc. sup. cit.

[2 ] Froissart, loc. sup. cit.

[1 ]Ib. cap. lxxvi, p. 137.

[2 ] Thom. Walsingham, Hist. Angl.; Camden, Anglica, &c. p. 248.

[3 ] Froissart, loc. sup. cit.

[1 ] Froissart, ut sup.

[2 ]Ib.—Proclamari fecerunt, sub œpæna decollationis, ne quis præsumeret aliquid vel aliqua ibidem reperta ad proprios usus servanda contingere. (Walsingham, ut sup. p. 249.)

[1 ] Froissart, ubi sup. p. 138.

[2 ]Ib. ii. cap. lxxvii. p. 139.

[1 ] Rymer, Fædera, iii. 124.

[1 ] In aquis et stagnis, piscariis et boscis et forestis feras capere, in campis lepores fugare...(Knyghton, ut sup. col. 2636, 7.)

[2 ]Ib.

[3 ] Other writers give the name Ralph Standish.

[4 ] Froissart, ut sup. p. 142.

[5 ] Walsingham, ut sup. p. 253.

[1 ] Froissart, ut sup. p. 142, 143.

[2 ] Walsingham, p. 254.

[1 ] Froissart, loc. sup. cit.

[2 ] Henric. Knyghton, col. 2637.

[1 ] Rymer, iii. pars iii. p. 124.

[2 ] Knyghton, col. 2643, 2644.

[1 ] Knyghton, col. 2643, 44.

[2 ] See Hallam’s Europe in the Middle Ages.

[3 ] It was written in Latin, and was entitled Vox clamantis.

[1 ] Froissart, ii. cap. clxxxviii. See Turner’s H. of the Anglo-Normans, vol. ii.

[2 ] Walsingham.

[3 ] Rymer, passim.

[1 ] Chron. Saxonicum, (Gibson) passim.

[1 ] Hallam, Europe in the Middle Ages.

[2 ] Rymer, Charta Edwardi III.

[1 ] Radulph. Hygden, Polychron., apud Rer. Anglic. Script., (Gale) 210.

• Freinshe use this gentilman,
• Ac everich inglishe can.
• (Introduction to the romance of Arthur and Merlin, quoted by Sir W. Scott, in his introduction to Sir Tristrem, p. 30.)

[1 ] We find an instance of this in the prologue to a political poem written in the reign of Edward II., where the French and English verses follow each other and rhyme together, thus:

• “On peut faire et defaire come fait il trop souvent;
• ’Tis rather well ne faire therefore England is kent.”

• Mani noble I have y-seighe
• That no Frenysche couth seye,
• Begin I chill for her love. .
• On englyshe tel my tale.
• (Sir W. Scott, loc. sup. cit.).

[1 ]Ib.

[2 ] Prologue to the Canterbury Tales.

[3 ] Ranulph. Hygden, loc. sup. cit.

[1 ]Ib.

• Read where so thou be or elles sing
• That thou beest understood God I beseech.

[1 ] See Rymer, Fædera. Dugdale, Monast. Anglic. Comines, Memoires.

[1 ] Comines, Mem., p. 97.

[2 ] Anno regnorum Henrici regis Angliæ et Franciæ octavi a conquestu octavo. (Madox, Formulare Anglicanum, p. 235.) The old acts of parliament in French give both the year of Christ and the year of the conquest: L’an d’el incarnacion, 1233, del conquest de Engleterre centisme sexante setime.

[1 ] Chron. Saxon., sub anno mcxxxvii.

[1 ] Raynouard, Choix des poésies originales des Troubadours, ii. 240.

[1 ] Papiol is the name of Bertrand de Born.

[2 ] The name by which Richard Cœur de Lion is frequently designated in the works of this poet.

[3 ] Vita et processus sancti Thomæ Cantuariensus seu quadripartita historia, cap. ii. fol. 3.

[1 ] Jamieson’s Popular Ballads and Songs, ii. 447.

• When Tommy came his master before,
• He kneeled down upon his knee;
• “What tidings hast thou brought, my man,
• As that thou makes such courtesie?”
• Ritson’s Ant. Songs, p. 253.

[1 ] Willelmi filii Stephani, Vita S. Thomæ, p. 14-23, apud Hist. Anglic. Script., ed. Sparke.

[1 ] Recueil des Hist. de la France, xvi. 505.

[1 ] Recueil des Hist. de la France, xvi. 602.

[1 ] Recueil des Hist. de la France, xvi. 416.

[1 ] Recueil des Hist. de la France, xvi. 417.

[1 ] Recueil des Hist. de la France, xvi. 642.

[1 ] Recueil des Hist. de la France, xvi., 616.

[1 ] Edvardi Vita S. Thomæ, apud. Surium, De probatis sanctorum vitis mense Decembri, p. 361 and 362.

[1 ] Recueil des Hist. de la France, xvi. 153.

[2 ]Ibid. 468.

[1 ] Recueil des Hist. de la France, xvi. 469.

[1 ] Recueil des Hist. de la France, xvi. 470.

[1 ] Recueil des Hist. de la France, xvi. 649.

[1 ] Raynouard, Choix des poésies des Troubadours, v. 83, iv. 145.

[1 ] Raynouard, Choix des poésies des Troubadours, v. 84, iv. 153.

[1 ] Raynouard, Choix des poésies des Troubadours, v. 85, iv. 148.

[1 ] Raynouard, Choix des poésies des Troubadours, v. 86, ii. 183.

[1 ] Raynourd, Choix des poésies des Troubadours, v. 86.

[1 ] Raynouard, Choix des poésies des Troubadours, iv. 185.

[2 ] Evan’s Old Ballads, historical and narrative, i. 218—225.

[1 ] Jamieson’s Popular Songs, ii. 44—48.

[1 ] Raynouard, Choix des poésies des Troubadours, iv. 170.

[1 ] Raynouard, Choix des poésies des Troubadours, iv. 172.

[1 ] Raynouard, Choix des poésies des Troubadovrs, iv. 256.

[1 ] The original on parchment is preserved in the archives du royaume de France, trésor des charte, sérise J., carton 655, pièce 14.

[1 ] The original, on parchment, is in the Bibliothèque royale, Cabinet du Saint-Esprit, where are two other lists of this company, exactly similar to that here given, dated respectively 8 August and 8 October of the same year.

[1 ]Apud Titres scellés de Clairambault t. 114, fol. 8925, in the Bibliothèque royale.

[1 ] The original, on parchment, is in the Bibliothèque royale, Cabinet du Saint-Esprit.

[1 ] The original, on parchment, ubi supra.

[1 ] The original on parchment, ubi sup.

[2 ] Archives du royaume de France, Trésor des chartes, registre N, fol. 55.

[1 ] The original, on paper, is in the archives du royaume de France, Trésor des chartes, série J, carton 516, pièce 40.

Walter Scott, Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, ii. 110.

[1 ] Walter Scott, Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, i. 234.