THE MONKS DISCUSS THE VACANCY
Hugh the abbot being buried, it was ordered in chapter that some one
should give intelligence to Ranulf de Glanville, the justiciar of
England, of the death of the abbot. Master Samson and Master R.
Ruffus, our monks, quickly went beyond seas, to report the same fact
to our lord the King, and obtained letters that those possessions and
rents of the monastery, which were distinct from those of the abbot,
should be wholly in the hands of the prior and convent, and that the
remainder of the abbey should be in the hands of the King. The
wardship of the abbey was committed to Robert of Cockfield and Robert
of Flamville, the steward, who forthwith put by gage and safe pledges
all those servants and relatives of the abbot to whom the abbot had,
after the commencement of his illness, given anything, or who had
taken anything away belonging to the abbot, and also the abbot's
chaplain (a monk of the house), whom the prior bailed. Entering into
our vestiary, they caused all the ornaments of the church to be noted
down in an inventory.
During the vacancy in the abbacy, the prior, above all things, studied
to keep peace in the convent, and to preserve the honour of the church
in entertaining guests, being desirous of irritating no one, of not
provoking anybody to anger; in fact, of keeping all persons and things
in quietude. He nevertheless winked at some acts in our officials
which needed reformation, and especially in the sacrist, as if he
cared not how that officer dealt with the sacristy. Yet during the
vacancy, the sacrist neither satisfied any debt nor erected any
building, but the oblations and incomings were foolishly frittered
away.
Wherefore the prior, who was the head of the convent, seemed by the
greater part to be highly censurable, and was said to be remiss; and
this thing our brethren called to mind among themselves, when it came
to the point of making choice of an abbot.
Our cellarer entertained all guests, of whatsoever condition they
were, at the expense of the convent. William the sacrist, on his part,
gave and spent as he chose, kind man! giving alike what he should and
should not; "blinding the eyes of all with gifts."
Samson the sub-sacrist, being master over the workmen, did his best
that no breach, chink, crack or flaw should be left unrepaired so far
as he was able; whereby he acquired great favour with the convent, and
especially with the cloister monks. In those days our choir was
erected by Samson's exertion; and he arranged the order of the
paintings, and composed elegiac verses for them. He also made a great
draught of stone and sand for building the great tower of the church.
Being asked whence he procured the money for his work, he answered
that certain of the burgesses had privily given him moneys for
building and completing the tower.
Nevertheless, certain of our brethren said that Warin, a monk of our
house and keeper of the shrine, together with Samson the sub-sacrist,
had conspired to remove some portion of the offerings to the shrine,
in order that they might disburse the same for the necessary purposes
of the church, and in particular for the building of the tower; being
the more ready to believe this when they saw that the offerings were
expended for extraordinary purposes by others, who, to speak plainly,
stole them. And these before-named two men, in order to remove from
themselves the suspicion of any such pious theft, made a certain
hollow trunk, with a hole in the middle or at the top, and fastened
with an iron lock. This they caused to be set up in the great church,
near the door without the choir, where the common people usually pass,
so that persons should put their contributions therein for the
building of the tower.
Now William the sacrist had a jealousy of his companion Samson, as had
many others who took part with the same William, Christians as well as
Jews; the Jews, I say, to whom the sacrist was said to be father and
protector, whose protection they indeed enjoyed, having free ingress
and egress, and going all over the monastery, rambling about the
altars and by the shrine while high mass was being celebrated.
Moreover, their moneys were kept safe in our treasury, under the care
of the sacrist, and, what was still more improper, their wives with
their little ones were lodged in our pittancy in time of war. His
enemies or opponents having, therefore, consulted together how they
might suddenly overcome Samson, they conferred with Robert of
Cockfield and his colleague, who were wardens of the abbey, and
persuaded them to this--that they should, on behalf of the King,
forbid any one to erect any fabric or building so long as the abbacy
was vacant; but that, on the other hand, the moneys from the offerings
should be collected, and kept for the purpose of discharging some
debt.
And thus was Samson beguiled, and his "strength departed from him,"
nor could he from thenceforth labour as he had desired. Indeed, his
opponents were able to delay, but not annul, his purpose; for having
regained his strength, and "pulled down the two pillars," that is,
having removed the two wardens of the abbey, upon whom the malice of
others relied, the Lord gave him, in process of time, the means of
fulfilling his desire of building the aforesaid tower, and of
finishing it even as he wished. And so it was, as if it had been said
to him from above, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant; thou
hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many
things."
During the time that the abbacy was vacant we oftentimes, as was our
duty, besought God and the holy martyr St. Edmund that they would
vouchsafe to us and our church a meet shepherd, thrice every week
singing the seven penitential psalms prostrate in the choir, after
going forth from chapter. There were some amongst us who, had it been
known who was to be abbot, would not have prayed so devoutly.
As concerned the choice of an abbot, assuming the King gave us free
election, divers men spoke in divers ways--some publicly, some
privately; and "so many men, so many opinions."
One said of another, "That brother is a good monk, a likely person; he
is well conversant with the Rule and custom of the house; although he
may not be so perfect a philosopher as certain others, he would make a
very good abbot. Abbot Ording was not a learned man, and yet he was a
good abbot, and governed this house wisely: we read, too, in the
fable, that it had been better for the frogs to have chosen a log for
a king, upon whom they might rely, than a serpent, who venomously
hissed, and after his hisses devoured his subjects."
Another would answer, "How may this be? How can an unlearned man
deliver a sermon in chapter, or to the people on festivals? How can he
who does not understand the Scriptures attain the knowledge of
'binding and loosing'? seeing that the cure of souls is the art of
arts and science of sciences. God forbid that a dumb image should be
set up in the Church of St. Edmund, where many learned and studious
men are well known to be."
Also said one of another, "That brother is a good clerk, eloquent and
careful, strict in the Rule; he has much loved the convent, and has
undergone many hardships in respect of the possessions of the church:
he is worthy to be made abbot." Another answered, "From good clerks,
Good Lord, deliver us: that it may please Thee to preserve us from the
barrators of Norfolk, we beseech Thee to hear us, good Lord."
Moreover, one said of another, "That brother is a good manager, which
is proved from his department, and from the offices which he has well
served, and by the buildings and reparations which he has performed.
He is able to travail for and defend the house, and is, moreover,
something of a clerk, although 'much learning has not made him mad':
he is worthy to be made abbot." Another answered, "God forbid that a
man who can neither read nor chant, nor perform Divine service--a
wicked and unjust man, and a grinder of the faces of the poor--should
be abbot."
Also said one of another, "That brother is a kind man, affable and
amiable, peaceful and well-regulated, open-hearted and liberal, a
learned man and an eloquent, a proper man enough in looks and
deportment, and beloved by many, indoors as well as out; and such a
man might, with God's permission, become abbot to the great honour of
the church." The other answered, "It is no honour, but rather a
burden, to have a man who is too nice in his meat and drink; who
thinks it a virtue to sleep long; who is expert in spending much, and
yet gets little; who is snoring when others are awake; who always is
desirous to be in plenty, nor yet cares for the debts which increase
from day to day, nor considers the means of discharging expenses;
hating anxiety and trouble; caring for nought so long as one day comes
and another goes; a man cherishing and fostering flatterers and liars;
a man who is one thing in name and another in deed. From such a
prelate defend us, O Lord!"
Also said a certain one of his fellow, "That man is almost wiser than
all of us put together, both in secular and ecclesiastical matters; a
wonderful counsellor, strict in rule, learned and eloquent, and of
proper stature; such a prelate would do honour to our church."
The other answered, "True, if he were of known and approved
reputation. His character is questionable; report may lie, or it may
not. And although the man you mean is wise, of lowly carriage in
chapter, devout in psalmody, strict in the cloister whilst he is in
the cloister, yet it is mere outward show with him. What if he do
excel in any office? He is too scornful, lightly esteems the monks, is
closely intimate with secular persons; and should he be angry,
scarcely returns an answer with a good grace to any brother, or to one
even asking a question of him."
I heard in like manner one brother disparaged by some, because he was
slow of speech; of whom it was said that he had paste or malt in his
mouth when he was called upon to speak. And as for myself, being at
that time a youth, "I understood as a youth, I spoke as a youth;" and
said I never could consent that any one should be made abbot unless he
knew somewhat of dialectics, and knew how to discern truth from
falsehood. Again, a certain person, who in his own eyes seemed very
wise, said, "May the almighty Lord bestow on us a foolish and simple
shepherd, so that it should be the more needful for him to get help
from us!"
I heard in like manner a certain studious and learned man, and
honourable by the nobility of his family, disparaged by some of our
seniors merely for this reason--because he was a novice. The
novices, on the other hand, said of the elders, that old men were
valetudinarians, by no means fit to govern a monastery. And thus many
persons spoke many things, "and each was fully persuaded in his own
mind."
I observed Samson the sub-sacrist as he was sitting along with the
others at blood-letting season (at which time monks are wont to reveal
to each other the secrets of the heart, and to talk over matters with
each other). I saw him, I say, sitting along with the others, smiling
and saying nothing, but noting the words of each, and after a lapse of
twenty years calling to mind some of the before-written opinions. In
whose hearing I used to reply to these critics, that if we were to put
off the choice of an abbot until we found one who was above
disparagement or fault, we never should find such a one, for no one
alive is without fault, and "no estate is in all respects blessed."
Upon one particular occasion I was unable to restrain myself but must
needs blurt out my own private opinion, thinking that I spoke to
trusty ears. I then said that a certain person who formerly had a
great regard for me, and had conferred many benefits upon me, was
unworthy of the abbacy, and that another was more worthy; in fact, I
named one for whom I had less regard.
I spoke according to my own conscience, rather considering the common
weal of the church than my own advancement; and what I said was true,
as the sequel proved. And, behold, one of the sons of Belial disclosed
my saying to my friend and benefactor; for which reason, even to this
day, never could I since, neither by entreaty nor good offices, regain
his goodwill to the full. "What I have said I have said." "And the
word once spoken flies without recall."
One thing remains, that I take heed to my ways for the future; and if
I should live so long as to see the abbacy vacant, I shall consider
carefully what, to whom, and when I speak on such a matter, lest I
either offend God by lying, or man by speaking unreasonably. I shall
then advise (should I last so long), that we choose not too good a
monk, nor yet an over-wise clerk, neither one too simple nor too weak;
lest, if he be over wise in his own conceit, he may be too confident
in his own judgment, and contemn others; or, if he be too boorish, he
may become a byword to others; I know that it has been said, "In the
middle you will be safest," also that "Blessed are they who hold a
middle course."
Perhaps, after all, it may be the best course to hold my peace
altogether, and say in my heart, "He that is able to receive it, let
him receive it."
The abbacy being vacant, Augustine, the Archbishop of Norway, took up
his abode with us, in the house of the abbot, receiving by the King's
precept ten shillings a day from the revenues of the abbey. He was of
considerable assistance in obtaining for us our free election, bearing
witness of what was well, and publicly declaring before the King what
he had seen and heard.
At that time the holy child Robert suffered martyrdom, and was buried
in our church; and many signs and wonders were wrought among the
people, as we have elsewhere written.