The Revival within the Abbey during the 14th Century.
The ‘fourteenth century revival’ is perhaps too dignified a name
for the feeble efforts at reformation in the majority of English
monasteries. Most houses failed utterly to arrest the decay that
had set in during the thirteenth century, and for the rest of their
existence underwent a slow internal dissolution which was merely
consummated by the measures of Henry VIII. To this rule there were
exceptions. At Bury St. Edmunds,[8] for instance, while John Tymworth
was abbot (1379–1390), there was a marked revival accompanied by a
little outburst of chronicle writing. More important was the recovery
of St. Albans, where a conscious effort towards reform is the main
thread of its history. The reigns of four abbots which cover the first
half of the century witnessed the restoration of discipline: the long
abbacy of Thomas de la Mare (1349–1396) was devoted to the repair of
the Abbey finances, which had been depleted by the frequent vacancies.
The steps by which first the rule, and then the finances, were
strengthened indicate considerable continuity of reforming purpose in
successive abbots.
[Sidenote: Reform of the Discipline.]
The regulations issued by John de Maryns[9] (1302–1308) for the
reform of the convent and cells reveal the extent of the decay. The
rule of silence, it appears, had been all but forgotten; swearing
had grown common, and monks, forgetful of their vow of poverty, were
found to possess private property. In the cells the state of affairs
was even more deplorable. Brethren were known to insult the priors,
whose authority had grown too weak to ensure adequate punishment of
offenders. Reference is made to the existence of immorality in the
convent. It was necessary to prohibit brethren from intercourse with
women, from wandering about singly, and from drinking in the town. The
possession of greyhounds for hunting was also forbidden.
Such was the condition of the convent and cells in the first years of
the century. Abbot Maryns, though willing and anxious to carry out
the necessary reformation, was not strong enough to enforce his will
upon the monks. Moreover, the penalties prescribed for offences in his
regulations were wholly inadequate, and to this must be attributed the
persistence of the evils which they were intended to cure.
The decline of discipline during the last years of the thirteenth
century had been accompanied by a loosening of the authority of the
mother abbey over its cells. It appears that some of them were not
prepared to admit even a nominal dependence on the abbot. Making as its
pretext the huge exactions of Hugh of Eversdon (Maryns’ successor), the
cell of Binham,[10] led by its Prior, William Somerton, and supported
by the local gentry, broke into open revolt. A long contest followed,
with appeals to both King and Pope, but in the end the abbot was
successful. The rebellious priory was brought back to its allegiance,
and Hugh of Eversdon proceeded systematically to extract formal
submissions from the several cells. A grave feature of the quarrel
with Binham was the influence exerted by Thomas of Lancaster, Sir Hugh
Despenser, and various notables who contrived more than once to force
the hand of the abbot. The interference of laymen in the affairs of the
monastery is a sure sign of its weakness.
Abbot Hugh was a poor creature to govern so great a House. Avaricious,
vain, extortionate, a pampered favourite of Edward II, he oppressed
the cells and exasperated the townsmen. On his death in 1327 the
latter broke into revolt. The whole of England was at this time in a
state of anarchy and wretchedness only too clearly reflected in the
condition of St. Albans. The House was desperately poor and burdened
with debt, and the moral condition of the monks is admitted by the
chronicler to have been very low. Degeneracy, in fact, had gone to
greater lengths than at the beginning of the century. The Constitutions
of Abbot Wallingford[11] deal with the most elementary rules of
conduct and morality, the frequent breach of which could be the only
reason for their publication. The Abbot, however, was a saintly man,
and made persistent efforts to correct abuses. In a formal visitation
of the cells he punished severely all cases of incontinence, and
having compiled two books of statutes, did his best to enforce them.
The monks, unused to so strict a master, grumbled at Wallingford’s
severity, but before his death matters had begun definitely to mend. In
his later years he even had leisure to turn his attention to the cells.
The Priory of Redburn was completely re-organised, and the government
of the dependent house of St. Mary de Prez systematised for the first
time.
Michael de Mentmore (1335–1349), who succeeded Richard Wallingford
as abbot, continued the work of reform on the lines laid down by
his predecessor, devoting much attention to the cells. He did what
he could to make the life of the leper brethren of St. Julian more
tolerable, and drew up a new rule for the nuns of Sopwell. A peculiar
interest attaches to the rule of this Michael Mentmore. His local
effort towards reform came into contact with the wider attempt of Pope
Benedict XII to improve the Benedictine Order. With the increasing
lethargy of the Black Monks, the intervals between General Chapters had
grown greater and greater. Benedict XII abolished the two provinces
into which hitherto the English Benedictines had been divided and
revived triennial General Chapters meeting at Northampton. To Abbot
Michael, significantly enough, the Pope entrusted the execution of
these measures. The abbot entered heartily into the work, exhorting
and encouraging individuals and actively helping in the restoration of
religion in places where it had altogether decayed.
[Sidenote: The Abbacy of Thomas de la Mare.]
Thus when Abbot Michael, having been struck down by the Black Death,
was succeeded by Thomas de la Mare, the foundations of reform had been
laid. It fell to the lot of the new abbot to complete and adorn the
work begun by his predecessors.
Thomas de la Mare, who ruled the Abbey for almost fifty years, has
perhaps left a deeper mark on the history of St. Albans than any
other abbot. He was no mere political prelate. For his age he was
what would be called a good man; but before all things he was an able
administrator and a stern though just ruler. Indefatigable in upholding
the convent’s rights against every outside power, he knew no compromise
in his exaction of full obedience from all within the House. To his
biographer, credulity, the employment of unworthy officers and his
lavish outlay as President of General Chapters were the only flaws
in an otherwise perfect character. No censure is passed upon his
craftiness in evading the Statute of Mortmain, nor are certain acts of
crude revenge adversely commented upon. Besides supreme ability, he
certainly possessed an exceptional personality, and towards the close
of his life was regarded almost as a saint by the brethren.[12] The
greatest of the later abbots, he has perhaps suffered unduly at the
hands of his editor, who conceived of him only ‘as that most litigious
of abbots ... Thomas de la Mare.’[13] His tenants do not appear to have
looked upon him as a tyrant. The orderly character of the revolt of
1381 at St. Albans was in marked contrast with the scenes of pillage
and murder at Bury St. Edmunds. The St. Albans tenants rose to assert
their rights--the men of Bury to avenge their wrongs.
Abbot Thomas displayed an astonishing activity in every department
of monastic life. The church services were entirely revised, and
particular care was bestowed upon the singing, for the regulation of
which the Abbot drew up a new ordinal. A series of practical reforms
followed; in monastery and cells the discipline was more strictly
enforced. The general raising of the monastic standard was exemplified
by his refusal to admit illiterate nuns into the house of St. Mary
de Prez, and by his careful provisions regulating the duties of the
Benedictine students at Oxford. At first, indeed, the rigidness of
his discipline caused many of the monks to grumble, and some even
to secede. But his method was effective. Before long the Abbey grew
famous, not only in England, but on the Continent, and monks were often
sent to St. Albans to be trained in monastic discipline for the benefit
of their own houses.
The position of St. Albans as the premier Benedictine house was
recognised by the election of the Abbot as president of the successive
General Chapters at Northampton. In these assemblies De la Mare issued
a comprehensive series of constitutions on the discipline of the
Order. Looking to the future of learning, he directed every abbot and
prior to maintain at Gloucester Hall[14] (Oxford) a number of students
proportionate to the size of his house. He himself supported many more
students than the number of his monks required. Edward III’s commission
to the Abbot to visit all the monasteries in the King’s presentation is
a striking tribute to his thoroughness. A visitation of Abbot Thomas
was far from being a mere formality, and shed a valuable sidelight
on the condition of many a great abbey.[15] ‘In them,’ says the
chronicler, ‘religion had well-nigh disappeared.’ The proper conduct of
the monastic rule had been forgotten, and serious abuses were rife. At
the Abbeys of Eynsham, Abingdon and Battle, De la Mare worked wonders
of reform; at Reading he composed differences between the Abbot and
the monks who had practically risen in rebellion; at Chester he took
the extreme step of deposing the Abbot. For these services he was
made a Privy Councillor, and henceforth stood in high favour with
Edward III. St. Albans, in fact, was at the height of its reputation.
The story seriously told in the chronicle of De la Mare, in a moment
of despondency, only being dissuaded from resigning his abbacy by the
repeated supplications of King John of France[16] and the Black Prince
sufficiently illustrates his social eminence. As for the Abbey, it
even eclipsed its old rival, the Abbey of Westminster. It was in vain
the Abbot of Westminster claimed the first seat among the abbots in
Parliament. So long as de la Mare lived, that seat was occupied by the
more important, more brilliant figure of the Abbot of St. Albans.
[Sidenote: Reform of the Finances.]
Its inability to resist kingly and papal extortion during the
thirteenth century left the Abbey in a state of miserable poverty.
Financial comfort could be restored only by regulating these exactions.
This the abbots appear to have realised, and John of Berkhampstead’s
(1290–1301) new arrangement[17] with the King is the first step towards
a remedy of the evil. The existing debt was cancelled, and the Abbey
secured possession of the revenues during a vacancy in return for a
payment of 1,000 marks. Any advantage which this exclusion of the
King’s escheator might have conferred upon the Abbey was nullified by
the unhappy occurrence of no less than five vacancies between 1290 and
1349. Each of these involved not only the payment of 1000 marks to the
King, but a far more serious expenditure to secure papal confirmation.
The financial embarrassment of the House surely increased.[18] As a
result of a special appeal to the Pope, Abbot Hugh secured a licence
to receive special subsidies from the cells in order to lighten the
debt.[19] But from papal exactions there was no escape. In vain the
Abbot begged to be excused from personal attendance at the Curia. His
presence was insisted on; the usual enormous fees were exacted, and a
licence to contract a loan to meet the expense thus incurred was the
only relief afforded him.[20] Abbot Hugh early became a favourite of
Edward II, and the King’s lavish endowments might well have served to
repair the Abbey’s fortunes but for the extensive building operations
which were necessary. The church fabric was in a ruinous condition;
walls were falling and roofs tumbling in, and Abbot Hugh had little
choice but to restore the south side of the church. Small wonder that
the debt which was 2,300 marks in 1308 was more than double that sum
twenty years later.
At the accession of Richard Wallingford the Abbey’s condition
attracted the notice of the Crown, and a commission was appointed[21]
in 1327 to ‘inquire by whose negligence the existing defects and
dissipation of the Abbey’s revenues had been brought about.’ Two
years later (perhaps as a result of the commission) Abbot Richard
received permission to live abroad for three years ‘to avoid the
burden of too great expense.’[22] In this unsatisfactory condition the
Abbey finances remained till 1349, when the Black Death visited St.
Albans with unusual severity. Abbot Michael and three-fourths of the
convent perished, and there is little doubt that the mortality among
the Abbey’s tenants was high.[23] This catastrophe must have further
impoverished the Abbey, and the 1000 marks due to the King on de la
Mare’s accession could only be paid by instalments.[24]
[Sidenote: The Financial Measures of de la Mare.]
De la Mare realised that the payment to King and Pope of large sums
at irregular intervals was fatal to any organisation of the Abbey’s
finances, and to him is due the credit of having conceived the more
workable system of annual contributions. Soon after the outbreak of
the Great Schism, a petition was addressed to the Pope, supported by
commendatory letters from the King, John of Gaunt, Princess Joanna,
and the Archbishop of Canterbury. The Abbot prayed that in return for
an annual payment of twenty marks the election of succeeding abbots
should receive confirmation without their personal attendance at
Rome.[25]
The arguments which the envoys to Rome were to employ in the hope of
winning the Pope’s consent to the proposed measure show clearly the
difficulties of the Abbey at this time. The whole annual revenue had
fallen to £1,053.[26] Of this, £465 was assigned to the Abbot--‘and
to the said Abbot pertains the entertainment of noble guests and
of all laymen, and the prosecution of pleas in the various royal
courts; which, inasmuch as laymen are more hostile to monks than they
were wont, are more expensive than formerly, and also occur more
frequently.’ The remaining £600 was considered inadequate for the
maintenance of the convent.
An objection to this plea of poverty, _viz._, that the Abbey was
really much richer than it represented, owing to the existence of its
numerous cells, was anticipated. The cells were said to be a charge on
the mother house, which at its own expense was continually involved in
litigation on their behalf.
Hospitality, it appeared, was the greatest burden the Monastery had
to bear. ‘Also the Lord Pope is to be informed that the Monastery of
St. Albans is near London, where the King’s Parliaments, Convocation,
and other assemblies of nobles and clergy are held. And the nobles
and magnates of the realm, both on their journey there and on their
return, are entertained at the Abbey, to its great expense and loss.’
The dearness of provisions, owing to the proximity of rich neighbours,
had also helped to impoverish the Abbey, and finally, the partial
felling of its woods to pay its debts to the King and Roman Court had
diminished a former source of income.
At this time the Pope stood in great need of English support, and might
therefore have been expected readily to grant Abbot Thomas’s requests.
Yet the desired privileges were secured only by lavish bribery among
court officials. William le Strete, one of the Abbey’s proctors at
Rome, writes to the Abbot[27]: ‘And I hope that the business will come
to a good end; but I do not know it at all for certain, seeing that
the Pope is very capricious.’ He goes on to say that the Pope has
not yet read a single letter from the Abbot, ‘and be pleased to know
that your business cannot be carried out here through letters from
anyone, but only through money.’ Negotiations were continued until
1396. In that year Richard II addressed a further appeal to Boniface
IX: ‘Whereas ... the Monastery of St. Albans[28],’ he wrote, ‘... has
its means grievously diminished by the heavy expenses of the visits
of the abbots-elect to the Apostolic See to obtain confirmation and
benediction.... It is situate in the uttermost parts of the earth, and
is in comparison with other monasteries of the realm over slenderly
endowed, and that too in a barren place; whereas therein beyond the
other monasteries of the realm the highest devotion, regular discipline
and daily hospitality flourishes; whereas if each abbot-elect were
bound to make such visit the number of monks would be minished, their
devotion chilled, and hospitality be not observed....’ This letter had
the desired effect, and the Abbot’s petition was granted forthwith.[29]
The weakness of the central power during Richard II’s minority had
offered a favourable opportunity for making a similar arrangement with
the Crown. In lieu of a payment of 1,000 marks in each vacancy, Abbot
Thomas had induced the Government to accept an annual tribute of fifty
marks.[30]
Half a century earlier such measures might have completely restored the
Abbey’s finances, and even during the fifteenth century they sensibly
lessened its embarrassment. More they could not do, for the decay of
the economic system was to make prosperity impossible.
[Sidenote: Political Attitude of Abbot and Convent in the 14th Century.]
Although the Abbot was a lay magnate as well as a spiritual peer, it
is remarkable how seldom the Monastery was involved in political and
party strife. The current of life in the cloister but rarely mingled
with the stream of national life. Occasionally a great noble, like
Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Lincoln, might be the Abbot’s enemy, and
try to do him hurt; more often the Abbey enjoyed the favour of nobles
of all parties, of Yorkist as of Lancastrian kings, and in return
offered indiscriminate hospitality. Such an attitude tended to deprive
the Abbey of all political or party value. A natural bias, it should
perhaps be added, was displayed in favour of the King, upon whose
goodwill the prosperity of the House in large measure depended. Abbot
Hugh of Eversdon, for instance, was one of Edward II’s ‘court party,’
and was richly endowed by that King. Again, Abbot Thomas was a close
friend and supporter of Edward III, as also of the Black Prince. But
this attitude was after all little more than the loyalty which they
owed to the King. Their support did not extend to party quarrels, to
‘loving those whom he loved, and shewing enmity towards such as were
his enemies.’
This detached political attitude is one reason why monastic chronicles
are often so intolerably dull. Yet politics were as keen and as
absorbing in the Middle Ages as they are now, and monks and Abbot
must have followed their course, and criticised the actors, with as
much freedom as the men of to-day. In favour of St. Albans it must
be said that, in comparison with other monasteries, its chronicles
are singularly living and human. In those written during the revival
of historical writing under the guidance of Thomas Walsingham, the
political sympathies of the convent during the critical period of
Richard II’s reign are fully revealed.
Towards Richard II their feelings were hostile, if not contemptuous.
Walsingham, in his history of the reign, describes with unction the
King’s childish behaviour during his fits of ungovernable anger,[31]
his violent words on more than one occasion to his Parliaments, and his
absurd extravagance in dress. With righteous indignation he relates
how Richard, on his way to London, borrowed from the monastery a
palfrey, which he never returned. Another chronicler tells with scorn
of the King’s visit to the Abbey in 1394, when large concessions were
promised, but never fulfilled.[32] De la Mare’s successor, John Moote,
was apparently on equally indifferent terms with the King. ‘This
Abbot,’ says the chronicler, ‘gave to King Richard for the purpose
of preserving his good will and avoiding his malice, at different
times, one hundred and twenty-six pounds, thirteen shillings and four
pence.’[33]
The attitude of the convent towards Richard II seems reasonable
enough. The King, although he conferred more than one benefit upon St.
Albans, does not appear to have cherished any affection for the Abbey.
He was rather ‘an especial favourer and promoter of Westminster,’
whose interests he consistently supported in the disputes of the
reign between the two houses concerning Parliamentary precedence.
More difficult of explanation are the feelings St. Albans entertained
towards John of Gaunt. A contemporary manuscript--called, on account of
its bitterness, the ‘Scandalous Chronicle’[34]--reveals the existence
of strong hostility towards him, and repeatedly speaks of him in most
abusive terms. In the early years of the fifteenth century, when the
‘Scandalous Chronicle’ was utilised for a new edition of the history
of the time,[35] the worst of the slighting references to John of
Gaunt were erased and the remarks generally toned down, while in the
margin of the MSS. is inserted _cave quia offendiculum_. Plainly it
was unwise to have such remarks about the father of the living King,
and so the ‘Scandalous Chronicle’ was suppressed at the place where
it was written.[36] Many motives may be attributed to the Abbey for
its hostile attitude towards John of Gaunt. It had private grievances;
the Abbot, for instance, had resented (though he feared to refuse)
Lancaster’s demand for large supplies of timber for his castle at
Hertford.[37] Another reason, doubtless, was the Duke’s patronage of
the ‘Arch-heretic’ Wycliffe, whom the Abbot and convent regarded with
peculiar loathing. But the main cause of their hostility towards John
of Gaunt sprang almost certainly from his political action. From 1377
to 1386 Lancaster was most unpopular with almost all classes.[38] The
many misfortunes of these years--the French raids on the south coast,
the failure of the English arms in France and Flanders, and even the
unsuccessful government at home--were laid to his charge. From the
_Historia Anglicana_ it is evident that the monks shared this common
attitude towards John of Gaunt. Again and again responsibility for
failure is attributed to him, and he is branded as an incompetent
general and a disloyal, scheming and unsuccessful politician. It
is rather startling to find, however, that outwardly the most
friendly relations were maintained between the Duke and the Abbey,
while simultaneously such abuse was heaped upon him in its official
chronicles. The Duke acted continuously as a patron of the Abbey,
and conferred a long list of benefits upon it.[39] Evidently he was
unaware of the secret sentiments of the House which he patronised so
liberally.[40]
[Sidenote: Revival during de la Mare’s Abbacy.]
A growing movement towards reform and revival was thus the main trend
of events at St. Albans during the fourteenth century. The persistent
efforts of Maryns and the other short-lived abbots removed abuses and
restored the discipline. The long abbacy of Thomas de la Mare was
marked by able administration, and minute and unflagging attention to
the monastery’s interests. The Abbot shirked no contest to retain or
regain lands, services or jurisdiction upon which the Abbey had just
claims. His rule was necessarily marked by constant litigation with
high and low, from which, in a great majority of cases, he emerged
successful. This great labour, the details of which fill the chronicles
of his abbacy, had the effect of restoring in some measure the Abbey’s
material prosperity. Finally, by his statesmanlike measures with
regard to future vacancies he had done all in his power to ensure the
permanence of his work of financial restoration.
[Sidenote: Historical Writing.]
The effect of lessening the pressure of outside circumstances and
rendering more safe and easy the existence of the Abbey was to
promote a mild revival which bore its best fruits in a new outburst
of historical writing. The golden age of St. Albans’ historical
composition had been the early thirteenth century, and was associated
with the names of Roger Wendover and Matthew Paris. Then it was that
the St. Albans School grew famous. Its MSS. were frequently lent to
other houses for the writing up of their own chronicles,[41] and when
official information was required on a point of history it became usual
to refer to the St. Albans chronicles.[42] With so long a tradition
of annalistic composition[43] the Abbey developed a variety of script
unique in England, and experts can identify with considerable certainty
the products of the St. Albans scriptorium. The composition of history
never actually ceased after the time of Matthew Paris. The tradition
was maintained (though perhaps it languished somewhat) by the writings
of Rishanger, Trokelowe and Blaneforde. At the close of the fourteenth
century occurred the valuable revival under the guidance of Thomas of
Walsingham. The years 1370 and 1420 mark roughly the limits within
which it fell. The amount of work produced was considerable, and in
quality was hardly inferior to that of the thirteenth century. From
an historical point of view it is probably more important, since by
Walsingham’s time other sources of chronicle writings were beginning to
fail.[44]
[Sidenote: Unpopularity of Monasticism.]
In its revival under De la Mare, St. Albans was almost unique among
the English abbeys; in no other case was there any movement comparable
with it. Yet there is a grave danger of overrating the significance of
De la Mare’s abbacy. The monastic system cannot be said to have been
reinvigorated nor primitive fervour restored. The revival was confined
within narrow limits, and, on the whole, its fruits were small. It
was, however, sufficient to blunt the edge of much of the contemporary
criticism which in the fourteenth century was being applied to the
monastic system. Chaucer, for example, in his Prologue, described for
all time the typical monk of his day--
A Monk ther was, a fair for the maistrye,
an out-rydere, that lovede venerye;
A manly man, to been an abbot able.
Ful many a deyntee hors hadde he in stable:
and, when he rood, men mighte his brydel here
Ginglen in a whistling wynd as clere
And eek as loude as doth the Chapel-belle,
Ther as this lord was keper of the celle
The reule of Seint Maure or of Seint Beneit,
By-cause that it was old and somdel streit,
This ilke monk leet olde thinges pace
And held after the newe world the space.
... therfor he was a fricasour aright
Grehoundes he hadde, as swifte as fowel in flight.
Of pricking and of hunting for the hare
Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare
His head was balled, that shoon as any glas
And eek his face, as he hadde been anoint.
He was a lord ful fat and in good point
He was nat pale as a for-pyned goost
A fat swan loved he best of any roost.[45]
But Chaucer’s satire, once so true,[46] was a spent shot in De la
Mare’s time.
There was other contemporary criticism which was perhaps harder to
meet. Langland looked forward with certainty to the time when the
monastic system should be destroyed--‘shall have knock of a king and
incurable the wound.’ The criticism of Wycliffe was more severe.
His rejection of the Pope, with whose interests those of the exempt
monasteries were bound up, his doctrine of evangelical poverty,
and the practical proposal that the Government should disendow a
delinquent church undermined the very foundations of monasticism.
Wycliffe’s position rested upon the double argument of the decay of
the monastic life and the superiority of a life lived in the world.
Of this contention St. Albans could refute only the half. The vicious
handling which the reformer receives in its chronicles almost suggests
an anticipation of defeat, a tacit recognition of the weakness of the
writer’s position. Thomas Walsingham, in his _Historia Anglicana_,
dubs him ‘Wyk-believe’ and ‘disciple of anti-Christ’; speaks not of
his opinions, but of his ravings (deliramenta), and unhesitatingly
attributes to his inspiration such varied ills as the Peasants’ Revolt
and the profanation of the Sacrament by a Wiltshire knight. When he
chronicles the death of ‘that limb of Satan, idol of heretics, mirror
of hypocrites and fabricator of lies--John Wycliffe,’ it is only to
repeat cruel gossip about his last hours. The life of Wycliffe, in
fact, marks a fresh step in the growing unpopularity of the monastic
system, and with a sure instinct St. Albans recognised the fact, and so
far as it was able, dealt with him accordingly.