Chapter XV: Part 15

<g>Historical Associations.</g>--The neighbourhood of Netley is interesting in many points of view to the antiquary. At some distance to the north is the modern village of Bittern, the site of the Roman town of Clausentum, of the earth-works of which some traces still remain. On Netley Heath, which lies between Netley and Bittern, are numerous tumuli, probably indicating the places of burial of some of the more distinguished of the Roman inhabitants of this spot. We trace the footsteps of that extraordinary people almost within the precincts of Netley Abbey; for in its immediate vicinity, in a field by the shore near West Wood, a few years ago, a coarse earthen vessel, filled with Roman coins of the Lower Empire, was dug up by a labourer. The larger portion of these coins was of the description called small brass, and of the period of the younger Gallienus.

After Clausentum had been deserted and forgotten, its importance was transferred to the neighbouring town of Hamton, known in more modern times by the name of Southampton, to distinguish it from the other Hamton, now called Northampton. During the period of the Saxons, Southampton is chiefly known as having been repeatedly plundered by the Danes, to whose attacks it was exposed by its position. In 980, seven Danish ships came suddenly and destroyed the town, and slaughtered or carried away into captivity nearly all its inhabitants.

Although we know little of the history of Southampton during this early period, we find that the district was afterwards connected with historical traditions, now long forgotten, which found their way into the <g>poetry</g> of our forefathers. It was here, in the neighbourhood of Netley, according to the legendary history of the ancient Britons, that the Emperor Claudius made his descent upon the shores of our island. The romances tell us that he was met here by a British king named “Gwyder,” who defeated the Romans with great slaughter. But Claudius had a faithful councillor named Ham, or Haimo, who clad himself in the arms and dress of a Briton, went to the enemy’s camp, and, after a short period, obtained the favour of the invincible Gwyder. Another desperate battle between the Britons and Romans followed; when Ham, who kept near the British king, treacherously drew his sword and slew him, and then fled to the Romans, supposing that he had secured the victory for his countrymen. But Arviragus, the brother of Gwyder, took the command of the Britons; and by his bravery the Romans were again vanquished, and driven with great loss to their ships. Ham, with a small body of men, was cut off from the main army, and took shelter in a wood near the shore; he was there attacked by the Britons, and, retreating to a haven, was slain on the spot where was afterwards built the town called (according to the legend) from him, Hampton.

“Ac the luther Haym with ys folk toward the wode hymn drowe:
Arvirag hym sywede, and to grounde ever slowgh.
Atte laste ys tricherie wel lutel he by-lowgh;
He overtok hym at an havene, and slogh hym ryght there:
Lutel harm thei tricherus so alle y-served were.
The havene ther he was y-slawe, after Haymys name y-wys,
Hamptone was y-clepud, as he yet y-clepud ys,
For South-hamptone he is y-clepud, and worth ever mo.”[235]

So sang the quaint old chronicler, Robert of Gloucester. Legends probably connected with the ravages of the Danes in this neighbourhood, and the troubles of the latter ages of Anglo-Saxon history, formed the foundation of another romance of great popularity. In the baronial halls of Old England, the harp has often resounded to the chivalrous adventures of <g>Bevis</g> of <g>Hampton</g>. The figure of the hero may still be seen rudely sculptured on the antique tower at Southampton, called the Bargate. History gives us no clue to identify the personage who, in medieval romance, figures as

“Bevis of renoun,
The right heir of Southamptoun.”

But, according to the story, the father of Bevis was a powerful thane, named Guy, Earl of Hampton, or Southampton. He married a young wife, who, falling in love with a stranger knight named Doon de Mentz, caused her husband to be murdered by her paramour, whom she afterwards married. Young Bevis, by a series of marvellous adventures, escaped from the fate which had fallen on his father; and, leaving his inheritance to be enjoyed by the murderer, fled to the east, where he becomes engaged in no less extraordinary adventures among the infidels. He there falls in love with a beautiful Saracen maiden, named Josiana, daughter of the King of Armenie, with whom, after many years’ absence, he returns home. Bevis and his wife Josiana have a son named Guy. After having recovered his paternal estates, and punished the murderers of his father, Bevis becomes involved in a war with his sovereign, the King of England; and, the king’s son having been killed, he is obliged to fly with Josiana and his child. On their arrival on the Continent, they seek repose and shelter in a forest; but, while Bevis is absent in search of food, a party of pirates arrive and carry away his wife and child. They give young Guy to a fisherman; and Josiana afterwards escapes unhurt from their hands. The three are thus separated from each other, and each passes through a series of adventures in search of the other, which form a large portion of the romance. Bevis and his wife both arrive at the court of Armenie, where in her right he succeeds to the crown. But in the meantime the King of England dies without heirs; and the nobles of the land decide that Bevis and his son are the next in succession: they discover the latter at Paris, and offer him the throne. Guy determines at once to set out in search of his father; and he also arrives at last in Armenie, where his father is king. When Bevis is thus made acquainted with the events which had followed his banishment from England, he resigns the crown of Armenie to his son; and, with his wife Josiana, returns to his own country, where he is crowned with great ceremony and splendid festivities. Five years after his accession to the throne of England, Josiana dies; overcome with chagrin for the loss of his queen, and tired with the pomp of the world, Bevis leaves his own court, and retires secretly to a hermitage, where he remains seven years before the place of his retreat is known. At the end of that period, an angel discovers it to the King of France, at the moment when Bevis is dying. Such is the outline of the legend of Bevis of Hampton, than which the writer of the romance assures us a better was never sung,--

“Plaist-vous oïr, bonne gent honnorée,
Bonne chanson de bien enluminée?
Meilleur de li ne puet estre chantée
Par jongleour, dite, ne devisée,
Comme ceste est qui çi vous est contée.”

At a short distance from the town of Southampton is a large tumulus, or sepulchral mound, which is known by the name of <g>Bevis’s Mount</g>. Some antiquaries, probably with little reason, have supposed it to be the remains of an ancient Danish fort. There is another <g>Bevis’s Mound</g> in the park of Arundel Castle,[236] which is said to be the hero’s grave. His sword, six feet long, is still preserved at Arundel. Bevis’s Mount, near Southampton, is now enclosed in the gardens of a gentleman’s seat.

In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, Southampton and its neighbourhood was a common landing-place for pirates and French marauders, who infested the southern coast of England. In 1337 a considerable part of the town was burnt by the French. We have no information as to the effect which these hostile incursions had upon the monks of Netley. In recent times, Netley Heath has been more than once the rendezvous of troops destined for the invasion of France.

Independent of its historical recollections, the <g>neighbourhood</g> of Netley Abbey is interesting to the visitor for the beauty of its scenery. The walk from Southampton is extremely agreeable, lying chiefly along the beach.

Itchen Ferry, which we must first pass, is now crossed by means of a moving bridge, worked by a steam-engine. A pleasant winding lane leads to the shore of the Southampton Water. The path then lies along the edge of the water, skirted on the left by wooded eminences. After proceeding a short distance, we arrive at <g>Weston Beach</g>, whence, by a little lane to the left, we reach the beautiful hamlet of Weston, thickly embedded in trees. A modern poetess, Miss Mitford, has celebrated the charms of this rural spot:--

“Hills which the purple heath-bell shield,
Forest and village, lawn and field,
Ocean and earth, with all they yield
Of glorious or of fair.”

On the beach, a post directs us to the village inn, which is frequented by fishermen, who form the greater part of the population of the hamlet. Their boats are frequently seen in considerable numbers at anchor by the shore.

Pursuing our path along the beach, after a short walk, we arrive at a lane which conducts us to the entrance of Netley Abbey. Below, on the water’s edge, lies Netley Castle. The road which we have now entered, passing in front of the abbey, leads by Netley grange towards Netley hamlet, and the heaths of Netley and Bursledon. A little farther lie in succession the picturesque villages of Hound, Bursledon, and Hamble, the two latter situated on another creek of the sea, larger than the Itchen water. Leland the antiquary, who visited these parts immediately after the dissolution of the monasteries, appears to have passed along the shore in a boat from Portsmouth to Southampton. He gives the following account of the coast between Hamble and Itchen creek: “Scant a {2} miles from the mouth of Hamelrise creeke lyithe Letelege, on the shore upward in the mayne haven. Here a late was a great abbay in building of White monkes. About a 2 miles upward brekith in a great creeke out of the mayne haven, and goith into the land by northe. On the lift hand of this creeke by west a litle from the shore stondith a chapelle of our Lady of Grace, sumtime hauntid with pilgrimes. Right agayne it is Hichyn, a smaulle village on the est side, and hereof the _trajectus_ is caullid Hichin-fery.” The manner in which Leland speaks of Letley, or Netley, gives strength to the supposition that considerable alterations were making in the buildings of the abbey at the time of its dissolution, and accounts probably for some of the traces of modern architecture which are found in it.

There were several monastic houses situated within a short distance round Netley Abbey. To the south-east, at a distance of about six miles, stood the Abbey of Titchfield. Immediately after the dissolution, the site was granted to Sir Thomas Wriothesley, afterwards created Earl of Southampton, who erected on the same spot a splendid mansion, which Leland describes as “a right stately house, embatoled and having a goodely gate, and a conducte (conduit) castelid in the middle of the court of it; the very same place where the late monastrie of Præmonstratenses stoode, caullyd Tichefelde.” The ruins of Titchfield House are still visible. Besides the religious establishments in the town of Southampton, at a short distance from the town, to the north-east of Netley, stood the priory of St. Dionysius. A few miles beyond Southampton stood the ancient Saxon nunnery of Romsey, the church of which will repay with interest a visit from the antiquarian wanderer. Nearly opposite Netley, on the other side of the water, stood the mother Abbey of Beaulieu, deeply embedded in the wilds of the New Forest.

<g>Netley Castle</g>, or <g>Fort</g>, is not a building of any considerable antiquity. The circumstance of its not being mentioned by Leland, proves that it did not exist before the latter end of the reign of Henry VIII. It is commonly supposed to have been erected for the purpose of guarding this part of the shore from invaders. It stands in the midst of a thicket of trees, on a little hill close to the beach, and forms a striking object as seen from the water. The tower is a modern addition, built by the late proprietor, Mr. Chamberlayne, who is said to have taken the idea from one of Horace Walpole’s letters, who recommended this adjunct to render the building habitable. The castle itself consists of two small platforms. Behind the castle stands a neat modern cottage, of an antique Gothic design, where tea, &c. is prepared for the visitors to the ruins of Netley Abbey.

One reason of our want of information relating to the early history of Netley Abbey, is the circumstance that no registers or chronicles of any monastic houses in this neighbourhood are known to exist. Literature appears not to have flourished in this part of England. Among the manuscripts in our great public libraries, but a few can be traced to any of these monasteries, and we believe none to Netley. Leland mentions but one book in the library of Netley Abbey, which was a work of Cicero; but this is far from showing, as it has been supposed, that the library was ill furnished, because that antiquary only noticed books of a certain class which he found in the course of his peregrination, and did not pretend to make an inventory of the contents of the monastic libraries. Of Romsey Nunnery, the most ancient of the religious houses we have just enumerated, the history is equally obscure; and the sisters appear to have been chiefly remarkable for their irregularities. One of the most remarkable events recorded as connected with this house, is the circumstance that, in the reign of Henry III., the abbess had to enforce by law her claim to the privilege of judging and hanging capital offenders, because, from long disuse, even _her_ gallows had fallen down. In 1314 or 1315, the Abbess of Romsey was poisoned, and suspicions appear to have been cast upon the sisterhood. It appears by a visitation, made in 1506, that the nuns were then accused of immoderate _drinking_, the lady abbess setting the example by inviting the nuns to her chamber to participate in her intemperance.

EXPLANATION OF THE REFERENCES IN THE <g>Plan</g>.--1. The Entrance Gate,
loading into, 2, the Fountain Court; 3, 3. Buildings partly
surrounding this Court, and exhibiting marks of modern alterations;
4. The Church; 5. The Sacristy; 6. The Confessional; 7. The
Chapter-House; 8. The Passage leading to the Inner Court; 9. The
Parlour; 10. The Refectory; 11. The Buttery; 12. The Kitchen; 14.
The Raised Terrace, or Floor of the Cloister, supposed to have
surrounded the Inner Court (13); 15. A Ruined Building, supposed to
have been the Abbot’s Lodgings.
]

AUTHORITIES:--The Monasticon.--Domesday Book.--Bullar’s Netley
Abbey.--Keates’ Elegy on Netley Abbey.--Giraldus Cambrensis, and
the Collections of Monkish Stories.--Leland’s Itinerary and
Collectanea.--Matthew Paris.--Robert of Gloucester.--The Early
Romances, &c.

APPENDIX.

<g>ARUNDEL CASTLE.</g>--<g>King Alfred’s Will.</g>--The portion from which the text is a translation is thus given in ASSER. DE ÆLFREDI REB. GESTIS, fol. 23: “Athelmo, _vero fratris mei filio_, do villā de Edingburn et de Cumptune et de ERUNDELE, et de Bedingn et de Dinghā, et de Burnham, et de Thumesfelde, et de Aschōgum.”--“Forty-nine Castles are enumerated in Domesday Book; that of Arundel only as existing in the time of Edward the Confessor. Many single towers were built during the Heptarchy and by King Alfred. The Castle of Arundel dates perhaps its true origin from that monarch.”--Dallaway.

“Fama verò _tota est_ ex castro quod Saxonico imperio floruit; et statim ab ingressu Normanorum. Rogerum de Montgomericum restaurasse legimus, qui inde Arundeliæ Comes dictus.”--Camden.

<g>Harold, Earl of Sussex</g>, A.D. 1053.--Ingulph, relating the death of Earl Godwyn at the royal table, adds “Comitatusque Westsaxoniæ Haroldo filio suo datus est”--fol. 510, 540. Hardyng, page 229, after his manner relates the same in two stanzas:--“And as Kynge Edwarde,” &c.

<g>Roger Montgomery</g>, pp. 8, 9.--“Prædictus autem Rogerus de Montegummerici bello Anglico interfuit, et a Willelmo rege Anglorum Comitatus Arundelli et Sálopesberiæ dono áccepit.”--Wilhelm. Gemitens. De Ducib. Normannis. fol. 686. “Rex Gulielmus Rogerio de Monte Gomerici in primis <g>Castrum</g> Arundellum et urbem Cicestram dedit; cui posteà comitatum Scrobesburiæ quæ in monte super Sabrinam fluvium sita est, adjecit. Hic sapiens et moderatus et amator æquitatis fuit, et comitatem sapientum et modestorum dilexit. Tres sapientes clericos Godebaldum, Odolerium, ac Herbertum, diutiùs secum habuit; quorum consilium utiliter paruit,”--p. 254. “Warino autem calvo, carpore parvo, sed animo magno, Aimeriam neptem suam et Præsidatum Scrobesburiæ dedit: per quem Guallos aliosq’ sibi adversantes fortiter oppressit, et provinciam totam sibi commissam pacificavit. Guillelmum cognomento Pantalfum, et Picoldum atque Corbatum filiosque ejus, Rogerium et Rodbertum, aliosque fideles fortissimosq’ viros comitatui suo præfecit; quorum sensu et viribus benigniter ajutus inter maximos optimates maximè effloruit.”--Order. Vital. de Guliel. primo.

His pious retirement from the world and death in the cloisters is thus related by Orderic--the authority referred to in the text:--“Having by the hands of Reginald, then Prior of Shrewsbury, obtained from the house of Cluni, in Burgundy, the coat of St. Hugh, some time abbot there, for himself to put on, he caused himself to be shorne a monk in the said Abbey of Shrewsbury, with the consent of his wife; where it is observed of him, that three days before his death he wholly applied himself to divine conference and devout prayers with the rest of that convent; and died on the sixth of the Kalends of August, 1094.”--Baron. i. 28. “Monachile scema devotus suscepit ... et tribus diebus in colloquiis divinis et oratione inter servos Dei permaneit. Tandem Kal. Augusti mortuus est.”--Ord. Vital. p. 708.

<g>Hugh Montgomery</g>, page 9.--The death of this nobleman, as briefly mentioned in the text, is taken from Giraldus Cambrensis, Itin. Camb. p. 194, and thus rendered by Dugdale, Bar. i. 28. “There is in this island of Anglesey a church of St. Teuredaucus the Confessor, in which Earl Hugh, after he had subjugated these parts of Wales, having kennelled his dogs all night, found them every one mad next morning; and that he himself died a miserable death within a month thereafter. For hearing that certain pirates were come to the haven of this island in long-boats, and making haste to oppose their landing, the principal commander of them, called Magnus, standing at the fore end of the boat with a bow in his hand, let flie an arrow at our earl, then armed _cap-à-pié_, so that no entrance could be made except through his helmet, at the sights for his eyes; but so fatally was the arrow directed, that it passed through his head-piece upon his right eye, and piercing his brain, caused him to fall (from his horse) headlong into the sea.” Girald. Cambrensis erroneously attributes it to Hugh, Earl of Chester, but by all other authorities it is related as having occurred to Hugh Montgomery. Polyd. Virgil. fol. 173, says--“Hugo Comes Salopiæ obvium factus ex ictu sagittæ periit.” After which, “within a few days, his body being earned to Shrewsbury, was there buried in the cloister of the abbey, with great lamentation.”--Dugd. i. 28. Roger Hovedon, fol. 268, mentions his death in nearly the same terms: “Sagitta percussus--interijt.” Also, Speed, fol. 445.

<g>Mabel</g>, Roger Montgomery’s first wife, was the only daughter, and heiress, of William Talvace--grandson of Ivo de Belesmo--a person of great power and note in the time of Richard, Duke of Normandy, with whom he had a large inheritance. But this lady, says the monk of Utica, “caused his abbey to be greatly burthened with quartering of soldiers; for which, and other oppressions exercised towards the nobility, she was murdered in her bed.” By this wife Earl Roger had issue, as briefly mentioned in the text, five sons and four daughters:--Robert de Belesme; Hugh de Montgomery; Roger of Poictou; Philip, a priest; Arnulf, a soldier of fortune, Lord of Dyvet, now Pembrokeshire, who, like his father, was liberal in his benefactions to the church. Of his four daughters, Emma, the eldest, was Abbess of Almanisca; Maud was the wife of Robert de Moreton, half brother to the Conqueror; Mabel married Hugh de Novo Castello; and Sibyl became the wife of Robert Fitz-Hamon, whose name and family have been noticed in our account of Tewkesbury. For his second wife, Earl Roger espoused Adeliza, daughter of Ebrard de Pusaic, and by her had issue one son, called after his grandfather Ebrard, who, entering on a course of ecclesiastical discipline, became one of the chaplains to King Henry I. Of the Countess <g>Adeliza</g>, a monastic writer records the following anecdote:--Being on her first passage by sea, from Normandy to England, there happened so great a storm that the mariners were in imminent danger of shipwreck. A priest, who was the countess’s private chaplain or confessor, and attended her in the voyage, being much wearied with anxiety and watching, fell fast asleep. And lo! while he slept, there stood before him a comely matron, who addressed him in these words: ‘If thy lady would be preserved from the danger of this dreadful tempest, let her vow to God forthwith, that she will build a church to the honour of Sainte Marie Magdalene in the place where she shall first meet the Earl Roger, her husband, in England; and especially where an old hollow oak groweth near a hogstye.’ Now all this, when he woke up, the priest told to his Mistress, who, gladly accepting deliverance on such terms, made her vow accordingly; whereupon the winds were hushed, the sea became tranquil, and she came safely to land with all her attendants. At length, after several days’ journey to meet her husband, she found him near Quadford, hunting in the out-forest, at a certain place where a hollow oak tree, like that described in the vision, was then growing. Relating to him without loss of time what had happened, she so prevailed upon him that he agreed to fulfil her vows, and accordingly built and amply endowed a church in honour of Sainte Marie Magdalene, and gave it to his collegiate chapel in the Castle of Bridgenorth, in Shropshire, one of his many lordships. Like the monk who told his dream to Robert Fitz-Hamon (see Tewkesbury), Adeliza’s confessor--“monachiliter somniavit”--dreamed to good purpose. It is truly remarkable, that, so far as the interests of their order were concerned, these worthy monks always slept with their eyes open--

“By day with praying, plotting, scheming;
By night o’er beads and reliques dreaming;
They still contrived to lay their hand
Upon the fatness of the land.”

The <g>Fitzalan Family</g>, Text, p. 10.--The account of this Norman family is taken from that of Dugdale and the monastic writers, on whose report the genealogy is founded, namely, Ord. Vital., Matth. Paris, &c.; and the reader who may be curious in such matters, will find the whole subject fully detailed in the Baronage, i. p. 314, and Monasticon, vol. i., the sources from which the materials of all the later accounts which we have seen have been taken.

As progenitors of the royal family of Stuart, the claim is supported by Chalmers in his _Caledonia_, vol. i. p. 572, 573. Alan, the son of Flaald, a Norman, acquired the manor of Oswestrie, in Shropshire, soon after the Conquest--married the daughter of Warine, the famous sheriff of Shropshire--had two sons, Walter and William. Influenced by the Earl of Gloucester, the powerful partizan of his sister the Empress Maud, William seized Shrewsbury in September 1139, and held it for her interest--attended her at Winchester in 1141--adhered to her interests, and was rewarded by her son Henry II. By the marriage of his son with Isabel-de-Say, Clun in Shropshire was added to the Fitzalan estates. Oswestrie, or Oswaldestre, was the original seat of Alan on the Welsh border. Lord Hailes acknowledges that Walter (the son of Alan), who flourished under David I. and his successor Malcolm IV., was indeed the Stewart of Scotland. John Fitzalan, Lord of Clun and Oswestrie, by marrying Isabella, second sister of William de Albini, became Earl of <g>Arundel</g>.

<g>De Albini</g>, p. 9.--William-with-the-Strong-hand.--Dugdale gives the genealogical history of this family in the work above mentioned, vol. i. p. 118. The following anecdote, highly characteristic of the age in which he lived, is narrated with amusing gravity by our old Norroy king-at-arms, as one of the credible adventures in the life of this hero:--“I now come,” says he, “to William, who was called WILLIAM-WITH-THE-STRONG-HAND, in regard that, among his valiant exploits, he slew a fierce lion, the occasion of which was thus: It happened that the Queen of <g>France</g>, being then a widow, and a very beautiful woman, became much in love with a knight of that country, who was a comely person, and in the flower of his youth: and because she thought that no man excelled him in valour, she caused a <g>Tournament</g> to be proclaimed throughout her dominions, promising to reward those who should

exercise themselves therein, according to their respective merits; and concluding, that if the person whom she so affected should act his part better than others in these military exercises, she might marry him without any dishonour to herself. Hereupon divers gallant men from foreign parts hasting into <g>Paris</g>, amongst others came this our William de <g>Albini</g>, bravely accoutred; and in the tournament excelled all others, overcoming many, and wounding one mortally with his lance, which being observed by the <g>Queen</g>, she became exceedingly enamoured of him, and forthwith invited him to a costly banquet; and afterwards bestowing upon him certain jewels, offered him marriage. But, having plighted his troth to the Queen of <g>England</g>, then (also) a widow, he refused her; whereat she grew so much discontented, that she consulted with her maids how to take away his life; and in pursuance of that design enticed him into a garden, where there was a secret cave, and in it a fierce lion, into which she descended by divers steps under colour of showing him the beast. And when she told him of his fierceness, Albini merely answered, ‘that it was a womanish, and not a manly quality, to be afraid thereof.’ But having him there, by the advantage of a folding door, she thrust him into the lion’s den. Being therefore in this danger, he folded his mantle about his arm, and putting his hand into the mouth of the beast, pulled out his tongue by the root; which done, he followed the <g>Queen</g> to her palace, and gave it to one of her maids to present to her.”--On his return to England, the lion was given him for his arms, and he was thenceforward distinguished as “William-with-the-Strong-hand.” Commenting on this marvellous portion of Albini’s adventures, Vincent expresses regret that the hero did not, when once in, thrust his hand further, so as to catch the lion by the tail and “turn him inside out”--an operation which would certainly have been an improvement on the other, as well as an agreeable addition to the family arms. This valiant act was afterwards, it appears, revived by a royal crusader, and with still better success; for _he_ extracted the ‘lion’s heart at a grasp!’

Text, p. 9. “Illa (Adeliza), rege defuncto, Gulielmum de Albineto in maritum assumpsit, qui cū Matildi Augustæ contrà Stephanum regem studeret, et hoc castrum contrà illum propugnaret, in navatæ operæ præmium Arundeliæ Comitis titulum, à Matilde Augusta Anglorum domina (hoc enim usa est titulo) accepit: cùmq’ post _quartum_ ab eo comitem, proles ejus mascula deficeret, Richardum Fitzalanum jure uxoris in eum honorem evexit Rex Edwardus Secundus,” &c. With respect to the _fourth_ Earl, Brooke, in his “discoveries,” has stated objections, p. 32, 33.

With respect to the part taken by Albini subsequent to his marriage with Adeliza, queen dowager, on the part of the Empress Maud, her son, and King Stephen at Wallingford--as well as the embassy in which he took the lead--as mentioned p. 42, Dugdale has condensed the particulars under the head of “Will. de Albini Pincerna,” i. 118, as well as all others of any importance respecting the descent of the Castle of Arundel through the families of the Fitzalans and Howards. Albini is thus complimented in the old Rhyming Chronicle; and the orthography shows the pronunciation in that day:--

¶ Wyllyam, the Earle of Arundell that hyght,
_Awbeny_ (Albini) by his surname full well then knowe,
At Wimondham, in Northfolke buryed ryght,
Father was of Philyp full yonge unknowe
[That full courteous was both to hye and lowe]
That after him was Earle of Arundell,
As Chronycles wryten can clerely tell. P. 273.

<g>Robert de Belesmo</g>, Text p. 9.--“Supradictus Comes Robertus de Belesmo qui comitatum etiam Pontinensis pagi rexit eo tempore, ac in Normannia Castella possedit quam plurima; civitatem Scrobesbiriam et castellum in ea situm, castella quoque <g>Arundel</g> et Tikehil, alimentis machinis, armis, militibus, et peditibus contra regem Henricum fortiter munivit. Muros quoque, ac tunes castellorum, videlicet Brige et Carracoue, die noctuque operando perficere modis omnibus festinavit.... At Rex sine delatione Castellum ejus <g>Arundel</g> primitùs obsedit, et castellis ante illud firmatis, recessit; deinde Robertus Lindicolniæ civitatis episcopum cum parte exercitûs Tykehil obsidere jussit. Illè autem Brige cum exercitu penè totius Angliæ obsedit, machinas quoque ibi construere et castellum firmare præcepit. Interim Walanos, &c. Infra igitur triginta dies civitate et omnibus castellis redditis inimicum suum <g>Robertum</g> superavit etignominiosè de Anglia expulit.”--Hov. Annal. Hen. pr. 269.

Text p. 39.--“Junior Wilhelmus anno decimo regni sui cū Normanniam, quam à Roberto fratre suo ad Jerusalem profecto, in vadimonium acceperat pro libitu suo disposuisset, redijt ad Vigiliam Paschæ in Angliam, appulit apud <g>Arundel</g>.”--Henric. Huntingd. lib. vi. p. 216.

<g>King Stephen</g>, p. 38.--“Statim namque filia regis Henrici, quæ fuerat Romanorum imperatrix, cui Anglia juramento fuerat addicata, venit in Angliam; quam cum Rex Stephanus obsedisset apud <g>Arundel</g>, vel perfida credens consilia, vel quia castrum videbat inexpugnabile, ire permisit ad Bristowe.”--Hoved. Steph. Rex. fol. 278.

<g>The Empress Maud</g>, p. 41.--Holinshed, on the authority of Polydor, relates a “scandalous story” affecting the character of this lady, which, if true, robs William de Albini of the credit so generally given him, for having been the pacificator between King Stephen and young Duke Henry. It is very quaintly told by the old chronicler, p. 63, and by Polydor. Verg. lib. xij.:--“Sunt qui tradunt aliam fuisse causam qua Stephanus flexus sit ad pacem, qui referūt Mathildē amicā potius q’ inimicā Stephani fuisse, et eam, cum videret rem inter ipsum Stephanū et Henricū filiū eò deductā, ut armis finienda esset, clàm ad Stephanū adivisse atq’ sic eum allocutā: Ecquid, impie ac tui generis immemor, facere tētas? Decet ne patrem perdere filiū? an fas est ut filius patrem occidat? Amabo te, des locum iræ, projiciasq’ tela manu, nā Henricū, uti probè scis, ex te enixa sum! Et his dictis, ordine cōmemorasse quem admodum paullo antèq’ Gaufredo nuberet, ab eo compressa fuisset; ac ijs verbis Stephanū motū pacē fecisse.”

<g>Syr Bevis</g>, Text 37.--For the groundwork of the following legend, as connecting Sir Bevis with Arundel Castle, we are indebted to a lady resident near the spot. Sir Bevis, as noticed, p. 326, is familiar to every reader of romance; and the traditional history of his prowess has often been heard at the baron’s hearth, when the spirit of chivalry was fanned by the approving smile of beauty, and the sound of the harp sweetened the intervals of repose.

“O, who has not heard of <g>Bevis</g> the Bold?
Whose sword was the theme of harpers old;
Compared with which, like a willow-wand
Was the sword that gleamed in Paynim hand.
And oft through the Pagan’s steely array,
For the Cross of St. George, it had cleft his way.

Syr Bevis was stout of heart and limb:
And his meekest look was so stern and grim,
That even his squire grew deadly pale,
As he buckled for battle Syr Bevis’ mail!
And wherever for knightly feats he went,
Equipped for battle or tournament,
His very shadow refused to stay,
And shrunk like a craven thing away.
So fierce and fell was the hero’s stroke,
’Twould have cleft at a blow the forest oak;
While around him heads of Saracen lay,
Paving with helms Syr Bevis’ way.

But at length, in old Arundel’s Castellan,
When chilly and slow the life-blood ran,
And he bask’d his old frame in its evening sun,
And dreamed o’er the battles his youth had won;
As musing he sat on yon battled keep,
O’erlooking the forest and distant deep--
Come, bring me,’ quoth he, ‘my trusty sword!’
And swiftly his squire obeyed the word.
Then swift from his seat Syr Bevis sprung,
And thrice round his head the blade he swung--
‘Now mark me well,’ said the chief, ‘and obey
The command I leave, and the word I say:
Where ye find again this trusty glaive,
There hollow the ground for Bevis’s grave!
For my eyes wax dim and my blood runs cold,
And my heart of life hath lost its hold.’

He said: and fleet from his hand he threw
The deadly weapon so tried and true;
And away--as impelled by some nameless charm--
Like a shaft that’s shot by a wizard’s arm;
Away the falchion glanced, and fell
In the depth of Pugh’s deserted dell.--
That night there was mass for a parted soul;
At St. Martin’s gate there was Christian dole;
Where priest and vassal the dirge began,
For <g>Syr Bevis</g> the warlike Castellan!

Then they searched the shadowy forest round,
And they hollowed a grave where the sword was found;
And there they have laid each stiffened limb
Of the brave Syr Bevis, the wise and grim.
Where at noon the trooping deer convene,
Where at night the timid hare is seen,
Where the monk of St. Lazarus counts his beads,
They have laid him down in his warrior’s weeds;
They have monks to chant, and bells to toll--
And all for the rest of Syr Bevis’ soul.

Now ye who visit that haunted dell,
To count your beads in St. James’s cell,
Or haply to slay Montgomery’s deer,
Tread light on the ashes that slumber here.”

The anecdote related at p. 40 of the text, is thus told in the Latin of Father Matthew of St. Albans, p. 853:--“A.D. 1252. Tempore quoque sub eodem domino rege adhuc moram Londini continuante, venit ad eum in cameram suam Isabella, comitissa Harundelliæ, relicta Comitis Harundelliæ H. et ejusdem regis cognata; ut pro jure suo de quadam custodia ipsam contingente verba faceret sibi profectura. Rex autem vultum ei primò protendens serenum, posteà cum verbis asperioribus objurgans, nihil quod postulavit comitissa favorabiliter exaudivit; vindicavit enim sibi rex custodiam cujusdam custodiæ ratione particulæ, ipsum regem contingentis. Unde ipsa comitissa, licèt mulier, non tamen muliebriter respondit imperterrita. ‘O domine rex quare avertis faciem tuam à justitia? Jam in curia tua quod justum est nequit impetrari, medius inter Dominum et nos constitueris; sed nec teipsum nec nos sanè regis, nec ecclesiam veritus es multipliciter perturbare; quod non tantum in presentiarum, sed multoties est experta. Nobiles insuper regni modis variis vexare non formidas vel erubescis.’ Quod cùm audîsset rex, corrugans nares et subsannans, voce dixit elevata: ‘Quid est hoc, ô domina Comitissa? Confeceruntne Magnates Angliæ Chartam, et pepigerunt tecum, ut fieres eorum quia eloquens es, advocata, et prolocutrix?’ Ad quod comitissa, licèt juvencula non tamen juveniliter respondit: ‘Nequaquam mihi, domine, regni tui primates chartam confecerunt; sed tu chartam, quam confecit pater tuus, et tu eam concessisti, et jurasti observare fideliter et irrefragabiliter, et multoties ut eam observares à fidelibus tuis pecuniam de libertatibus observandis eorum extorsisti, sed tu semper eis impudens transgressor extitisti. Unde fidei læsor enormis, et sacramenti transgressor manifestus esse comprobaris. Ubi libertates Angliæ toties in scripta redactæ, toties concessæ totiesque redemptæ? Ego igitur, licèt mulier, omnesque indigenæ et naturales ac fideles tui appellamus contrà te antè tribunal tremendi Judicis: et erunt nobis testes cœlum et terra, quoniam iniquè nimis nos tractus insontes, et nos Deus ultionum dominus ulciscatur.’ Ad hæc Rex siluit confusus, quia dictante propria conscientia cognovit, quoniam a tramite veritatis non exorbitavit Comitissa, et ait: ‘Nonne postulas gratiam eò quòd mihi cognata sis?’ At illa: ‘Ex quo mihi quod jus expostulat denegâsti, quo modo spem concipiam, ut mihi gratiam facias postulanti? Sed et contra illos ante faciem Christi appello, qui te fascinantes et infatuantes consiliarii tui sunt, et te à via veritatis avertunt, suis tantummodo commodis inhiantes.’ His igitur auditis Rex siluit, satis civiliter redargutus.”

<g>Knighthood</g>, p. 45.--The grand festival mentioned in the text is thus described by Matthew of Westminster; and in Anstis’ Order of the Bath, p. 12:--“The king, to render his expedition into Scotland more splendid and numerous, caused proclamation to be made throughout England, whereby all persons entitled or compellable to take knighthood by right of hereditary succession, that is, by lands descended to them, or who had estates sufficient to support that degree, were required, on the Feast of Pentecost, to attend at Westminster, where every one of them should receive severally out of the king’s wardrobe, at the king’s expense, all things belonging to the habit of knighthood, except what related to the furniture of his horse (or armour for such knight). At the time and place appointed, there was an appearance of three hundred young gentlemen, sons of earls, barons, and knights, to whom was distributed in ample measure, according to their different qualities, purple, fine linen, furs, and mantles embroidered with gold; and because the Royal Palace, though spacious, was not of extent sufficient to accommodate so great a number, they repaired to the <g>New Temple</g>, where they erected tents and pavilions, having first cut down the trees in the orchard, and levelled the walls of it, that they might separately and more commodiously dress themselves in their splendid habits. That night as many of them performed their vigils in the Temple Church as the place would well contain; but the Prince of Wales, by command of the king his father, kept his vigils in the Church of Westminster, with some other persons of the first dignity. There the noise of trumpets and pipes was so great, and the acclamations of the people so loud and extended, that the voices in one choir could not be distinctly heard in another. On the day following, the king invested his son with the military belt, and consigned to him the Duchy of Aquitain. The prince, being knighted, went to the Church of Westminster, that he might confer the like military honour on his companions; there the press, occasioned by a promiscuous concourse of people, was so great before the high altar, that two knights were stifled, and several fainted away; for every knight had at least three other knights to conduct and support him. But the prince was obliged, by reason of the tumultuous crowd, to invest his companions upon the high altar, having, by his guards, made way for them to pass through the people. Then were brought and presented two <g>Swans</g>, introduced with much pomp, and covered with golden nets, adorned and embossed with golden studs, a solemnity highly grateful to the spectators. The king offered a vow to God, upon the presentation of the <g>Swans</g>, that he would make a descent upon Scotland, with a design, whether he should live or die in the attempt, to revenge the death of John Comyn, and the violated faith of the Scots, &c.

“In the celebration of this great festival there is a particular article, which is thus explained:--A vow, made upon the exhibition before-mentioned of two swans, in conformity to an usage continued for some ages; according to which, when any hostile expedition was intended, the commanding prince formally and solemnly bound himself to execute it, upon the oblation of some bird, as a visible test or signal of such engagement.”

Page 62.--In the letter here quoted--supposed to have been the last ever written by Norfolk, on the eve of Bosworth Field--the duke directs his well-beloved friend, John Paston, to bring with him such company of tall men, and “ordain them jackets of my livery.” The Duke of Norfolk’s livery, on the authority of Fenn, was particoloured of blue and tawny--a yellowish dusky brown orange colour--having the left side of the former of these, and the right side of the latter, and both dark shades of their respective colours.

<g>ST. ALBAN’S ABBEY.--Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester.</g>--The anecdote of this worthy, referred to in the text, is thus told by Grafton in his Chronicles, ii. 630:--“This Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, descending of the blood royal, was not only noble and valyant in all his actes and doings, but sage, politique, and notably well learned in the ciuile law. And among his other worthy prayses, this followyng is not to be forgotten, which most liuely and plainley declareth him to be both prudent and wyse, and to his great laude and prayse is written, and set forth by Sir Thomas Moore, knight, in this wyse following:--‘In the reign of King Henry the Sixt,’ saith he, ‘there came to the towne of <g>Sainct Albons</g> a certaine beggar with his wyfe, and there was walkeng about the towne begging fiue or six dayes, before the kinges comming thether; sayeing that he was born blinde, and never sawe in all his lyfe, and was warned in hys dreme that he should come out of Berwike, where he saide that he had ever dwelled, to seke Sainct Albon, and that he had been at hys Shrine, and was not holpen, and therefore he would go seeke him at some other place: for he had heard some saye sinse he came, that Sainct Albons body should be at Colyn (Cologne), and indede such a contention hath there bene. But of a truth, as I am certainly informed,’ sayth Sir Thomas Moore, ‘he lyeth here at Sainct Albons, saveing some reliques of him which theye there shewe shryned. But to tell you foorth, when the kinge was come, and the towne full of people, sodainely this blinde man at Sainct Albones Shryne had his sight, and the same was solemnly rong for a miracle, and _Te Deum_ songen; so that nothing was talked of in all the towne but this _miracle_. So happened it then, that Duke Humffrey of Gloucester, a man no lesse wise than also well learned, having great joy to see suche a miracle, called the poore man unto him, and first shewyng himself joyous of God’s glorie, so shewed in the getting of hys sight, and exhorting him to meeknesse, and to no ascrybing of any part of the worship to himselfe, not to be prowde of the people’s prayse, which would call hym a good and a godlie man thereby. At last he looked well upon his eyen, and asked whether he could ever see any thing at al, in all hys lyfe before. And when as well hys wyfe as himselfe affirmed fastlie ‘No!’ then he looked advisedly upon hys eyen agayne, and sayde, ‘I beleue you very well, for methinketh that ye cannot see well yet.’ ‘O yes, Sir,’ quoth he, ‘I thanke God and his holy martir, I can see now as well as any man.’ ‘You can,’ quod the duke; ‘what colour is my gowne?’ Then anon the beggar tolde hym. ‘What colour,’ quod he, ‘is this man’s gowne?’ He told him also, without anye stayeng or stombling, and told the names of all the colours that coulde be shewed. And when the duke sawe that he bade him, walke faytoure, that is to say, vagabond; and made him to be set

openly in the stockes: for though he could have seen sodaynely, by miracle, the difference betwene dyvers coloures, yet could he not by sight so sodainely tell the names of all these coloures, except he had knowne them before, no more than he coulde name all the men whom he should sodainely see.’ Thus far Maystir Moore.” Reference has been already made to the play in which Shakspeare has made use of the above, as the ground of a very amusing dialogue, into which he has infused much additional humour; and thus concludes:--

“_Glo._ Then, Saunder, sit thou there, the lying’st knave
In Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind,
Thou might’st as well have known our names, as thus
To name the several colours we do wear.
Sight may distinguish colours; but suddenly
To nominate them all’s impossible.
My lords, Saint Alban here hath done a miracle;
And would ye not think that cunning to be great
That could restore this cripple to his legs again,” &c.

Gloucester accordingly advises the application of the whip, and finds that the cripple is suddenly transformed into an athlete, with the full and free use of his limbs. Such were the devotees usually met with in places of pilgrimage--and such the miracles that obtained ready belief in the vulgar mind.

The Priory of Tinmouth in Northumberland was a cell of St. Alban’s Abbey. “One Simon of Tinmouth claimed a right to two corodies, or the maintenance of two persons in the priory; but which the prior and monks denied. This cause was brought before the Abbot of St. Alban’s and his Court-baron, who appointed it to be tried by combat on a certain day before him and his barons. Ralf Gubion, prior of Tinmouth, appeared at the time and place appointed, attended by his champion, one William Pegun, a man of gigantic stature. The combat was fought. Pegun was defeated, and the prior lost his cause; at which he was so much chagrined, that he immediately resigned his office.” This judicial combat is the more remarkable, that it was fought in the court of a spiritual baron, and that one of the parties was a priest.

<g>ELTHAM HALL</g>, p. 111.--It was whilst residing at his Palace of Eltham that King Richard II. resolved upon the murder of the Duke of Gloucester. “Unable,” says Froissart, “to conceal any longer the great hatred he bore to his uncle, he determined to have him cut off according to the advice given him, namely, that ‘it was more advisable to destroy than to be destroyed.’ Accordingly, the king having rode to the Castle of <g>Pleshy</g>, about thirty miles from London, with fair words cajoled the duke out of his castle, and was attended by him to a lane that led to the Thames, where they arrived between ten and eleven o’clock at night. Here the Earl-Marshal, who there lay in ambush, arrested him in the king’s name, and forced him towards the Thames in spite of his cries to the king to deliver him. He was conscious, from the moment of his being thus arrested, that his end was resolved on; and it was confirmed to him by the king turning a deaf car to his complaints, and riding on full gallop to London, where he lodged that night in the Tower. The Duke of Gloucester had other lodgings; for whether he would or not, he was forced into a boat that carried him to a vessel at anchor in the Thames, into which he was compelled to enter. The Earl-Marshal embarked also with his men, and having a favourable wind and tide, they fell down the river, and arrived late on the morrow evening at Calais, without any one knowing it but the king’s officers. The Earl-Marshal, as governor, could enter Calais at all hours, without any one thinking it strange: so he carried the duke to the castle, and there placed him in confinement.... In the meantime King Richard, leaving the Tower at an early hour, rode to his palace of <g>Eltham</g> and there remained; while the same day toward evening, the Earls of Arundel and Warwick were both brought to the Tower and there confined, to the great surprise of the citizens. But to return to Calais: When the Duke of Gloucester saw himself shut up in the castle, abandoned by his brothers, and deprived of his attendants, he began to feel alarmed; and addressing himself to the Earl-Marshal--‘For what reason,’ he inquired, ‘am I thus carried from England, and confined here? Do you mean to retain me a close prisoner? Let me go and view the castle, the garrison, and the people of the town.’ ‘My lord,’ replied the earl, ‘I dare not comply with your demands; for you are consigned to my guard, under pain of death. The king, our lord, is at this moment somewhat wroth with you; and it is his orders that you abide here awhile in banishment with us, which you must have patience to do until we have other news, and God grant that it may be soon! for as the Lord liveth, I am truly concerned for your disgrace, and would cheerfully aid you if I could;

but knowing the oath I have taken to the king, you know I am bound in honour to obey.’ This was the only answer the Duke of Gloucester could obtain; he too well judged from appearances, that his life was in jeopardy; and asked the priest who had said mass, if he would confess him. This he did with great calmness and resignation; and with a devout and contrite heart, cried before the altar of God, the Creator of all things, for his mercy and forgiveness. He was repentant of all his sins, and lamented them greatly. He was right thus to exonerate his conscience, for his end was nearer than he imagined: for being on the point of sitting down to dinner, while he was washing his hands, four men rushed suddenly out from an adjoining chamber, and, throwing a towel round his neck, strangled him by two drawing one end and two the other. When he was quite dead they carried him to his chamber, undressed him, and placed the body between two sheets with his head on a pillow, and covered him with furred mantles. They then re-entered the hall, properly instructed what to say and how to act, and declared that the Duke of Gloucester had been seized with an apoplexy as he was washing his hands before dinner, and that they had great difficulty to carry him to bed. This was the report published in the garrison and the town, where some believed it, and others not. Within two days after, it was published abroad that the duke had died in his bed at the Castle of Calais; and in consequence the Earl-Marshal, who was the duke’s near relation, put on mourning, as did all the knights and squires in the town of Calais.” As to the manner of his death, it appears by the confession of Hall, one of the accomplices, that the duke was smothered with pillows, not strangled, as Froissart was informed.

<g>TEWKESBURY</g>, p. 167.--By papers in the Bodleian Lib. Hist. of Tewkesb. 107, 1574, it appears, that on the twenty-fourth of July, being fair day, such a quantity of bats came floating down the river Avon, at Tewkesbury, that they covered the surface of the water for above a land’s length, in heaps above a foot thick, which so dammed up the mills for three days, that they could not go till the bats were dug out with shovels!

Page 189, A.D. 1578.--In the churchwardens’ book of accounts for this year, are the items here annexed:--“Payd for the plaiers geers six sheepskins for Christ’s garments,” ibid. 1585. “Order eight heads of hair for the Apostles, and ten beards, and a face or visor for the Devel,”--which show that mysteries, as plays were then called, were probably acted in the churches. In Italy the practice is still kept up, as every traveller in that and other parts of the Continent has observed; particularly during the Christmas festival, when nearly every church and convent have exhibitions of the Saviour’s birth, and the miraculous circumstances attending it.

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<g>KENILWORTH CASTLE</g>, p. 211.--Thomas de la Moore, in his Life and Death of Edward II., relates the following, as part of the cruel and insulting treatment to which the unhappy sovereign was subjected by his keepers, on leaving Kenilworth for Berkeley Castle. It is of a serio-comic nature; but no reader who ever held a razor, but will sympathize with the wretched monarch in his stipulations for at least the indulgence of _warm water_, under such an operation:--“Attestamur et scribimus quæ luce clariora innotuerunt mundo, si non timor æmulorum regis devotissimi adhuc superstitis clarere prohiberet, quæ non poterint occultare. Tum abducitur Edwardus (ut præscriptum est) versus Berkleyam à satrapis Sathanæ equitans stipatus, duxerunt etiam exemplar patientiæ per grangias Castri Bristollii, ubi de fœno factam coronam capiti jumdudum oleo sancto consecrato imposuit nefarius ille de Gorney, ausus contingere Christum Dei, cui illudentes ironia nimis acerba milites dixerunt, _Fareforth Syr Kynge_. Metuentes maligni, ne pariter directè incedentibus obuiaret aliquis amicus Edwardi et manus misericors ipsum liberatura, declinauerunt ad Smischam per mariscum ad flumen Sabrinæ terminatum. Excogitârunt inimici Dei quomodo Edwardum deformarent, ne foret facilè notus. Vnde cauariem et barbam radendas cōstituerunt. Venientes proinde in itinere ad fossam, iusserunt ipsum radendū descendere. Cui assidenti super cujusdam talpæ monticulum pelvim aqua frigida de fossa recepta attulit barbitonsor. Cui et aliis asserentibus quod aqua talis pro tune deberet sufficere, ait Edwardus--_Velitis, nolitis, habebimus pro barba aquas calidas_; et ut promissum consequeretur veritas, cepit profuse lachrymare. Ita mihi retulit viuens post magnam pestilentiam Gulielmus Bischop, qui ductoribus Edwardi sodalis, unde confessus et contritus pœnituit, sub spe misericordiæ divinæ.”--P. 602, edit. Francofort.

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