THE CASE OF HENRY OF ESSEX
[For the purpose of diffusing the knowledge of the blessed King and
martyr, we have annexed this, we hope not irrelevantly, to the
foregoing. Not that I who am so insignificant a person, and of
scarcely any account, should set it forth with a historical title; but
insomuch as Master Jocelin, our almoner, a man of exalted piety,
powerful in word and deed, did so begin it at the request and desire
of his superior, I may look upon it as my own work, because, according
to the precept of Seneca, whatever has been well said by another, I
may without presumption ascribe to myself.
When the abbot came to Reading, and we with him, we were suitably
entertained by the monks of that place, among whom we met Henry of
Essex, a professed monk, who, having obtained an opportunity of
speaking with the abbot, related to him and ourselves as we all sat
together, how he was vanquished in duel, and how and for what reason
St. Edmund had confounded him in the very hour of battle. I therefore
reduced his tale into writing by the command of the lord abbot, and
wrote it in these words.
As it is impossible for us to shun evil unless it be apparent, we have
thought it worthy to commit to historical record the acts and excesses
of Henry of Essex, as a warning and not for imitation. The warnings
that can be enforced by anecdotes are useful and beneficial. The
aforesaid Henry, therefore, while in prosperity was in high esteem
amongst the great men of the realm, a man of much account, of noble
birth, conspicuous by deeds of arms, the king's standard-bearer, and
feared by all on account of his power. His neighbours endowed the
church of St. Edmund, the King and martyr, with possessions and rents;
but he not only shut his eyes to this fact, but also by force and by
injuries, with violence and evil speaking, wrongfully withheld an
annual rent of five shillings, and converted it to his own use. Nay,
indeed, in process of time, when a cause touching the rape of a
certain damsel was prosecuted in the court of St. Edmund, the said
Henry came thither, protesting and alleging that the same plaint by
law ought to be decided in his court, in view of the birthplace of the
same damsel, who was born within his lordship of Lailand; and by
reason of this pretext he presumed to harass the court of St. Edmund
with journeys and innumerable expenses for a long space of time.
In the meantime, in these and such like acts, fortune, smiling upon
his desires, suddenly brought in upon him the cause of perpetual
sorrow, and, under the appearance of a joyful beginning, she contrived
for him a joyless end; for she is wont to smile that she may
afterwards rage, to flatter that she may deceive, to raise up that she
may cast down. All at once, there rose up against him Robert of
Montfort, his kinsman and equal in birth and power, impeaching and
accusing him before the princes of the land, of treason against the
King. For he asserted that Henry, in the war with the Welsh, in the
difficult pass of Coleshill, had traitorously thrown down the standard
of our lord the King, and had with a loud voice proclaimed his death,
and so turned to flight those who were hastening to his assistance. In
point of fact, the aforesaid Henry of Essex did believe that the
famous King Henry the Second, who had been intercepted by the
stratagems of the Welsh, had been killed; and this would indeed have
been the case, if Roger Earl of Clare, illustrious (clarus) by reason
of birth, and more illustrious by deeds of valour, had not come up in
good time with his Clare men, and raised the standard of our lord the
King, to the encouragement and heartening of the whole army. Henry,
indeed, strenuously opposed the aforesaid Robert in a speech, and
absolutely denied the accusation, so that after a short lapse of time
it came to a trial by battle. And they came to Reading to fight in a
certain island hard by the abbey; and thither also came a multitude to
see what issue the matter would take.
Now it came to pass, while Robert of Montfort thundered upon him
manfully with hard and frequent strokes, and a bold onset had promised
the fruit of victory, Henry, his strength a little failing him,
glanced round on all sides, and lo! on the border of the land and
water he saw the glorious King and martyr, Edmund, armed, and as if
hovering in the air, looking towards him with a severe countenance,
shaking his head with threats of anger and indignation. He also saw
with him another knight, Gilbert of Cereville, not only in appearance
inferior, but less in stature from the shoulders, direct his eyes upon
him as if angry and wrathful. This man, by the order of the same
Henry, had been afflicted with chains and torments, and had closed his
days in prison at the instance and on the accusation of Henry's wife;
who, turning her own wickedness upon an innocent person, stated that
she could not endure the solicitations of Gilbert to unlawful love.
Therefore, Henry, on sight of these apparitions, became anxious and
fear-stricken, and remembered that old crime brings new shame.
Becoming wholly desperate, and changing reason into violence, he
assumed the part of one who attacked, not one who was on the
defensive; who, while he struck fiercely, was more fiercely struck;
and while he manfully fought, was more manfully attacked in his turn.
In short, he fell vanquished.
As he was believed to be dead, upon the petition of the great men of
England, his kinsmen, it was permitted that the monks of that place
should give his body the rites of sepulture. Nevertheless, he
afterwards recovered, and now with restored health, he has wiped out
the blot upon his previous life under the regular habit, and in his
endeavour to cleanse the long week of his dissolute life by at least
one purifying sabbath, has so cultivated the studies of the virtues,
as to bring forth the fruit of happiness.]