Chapter Three

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The Angevin Era, 1154–1216

Fig. 29. Seal of Henry II. A nineteenth-century engraving of the great seal of King Henry II (r. 1154–89). Seals were used by medieval kings, and increasingly by other individuals, to authenticate documents, much as signatures are used today. In a pattern typical of the Norman and Angevin kings, Henry is shown enthroned as king of England on the front and mounted as duke of Normandy on the reverse.

33. Gerald of Wales’s Description of Henry II

One of the dominant figures in twelfth-century Europe, Henry II (r. 1154–89), the son of the empress Matilda, left multiple legacies to England: in law and justice, in finance and administration, in relations between the king and his vassals, and between the royal government and the Church. Here the Welsh-Norman historian Gerald of Wales, who served as Henry’s chaplain for years and thus knew him well, describes the king.

Source: trans. E.P. Cheyney, Readings in English History Drawn from the Original Sources (Boston: Ginn and Company, 1922), pp. 137–39, with additional material trans. E. Amt from Giraldi Cambrensis Opera, ed. J.F. Dimock (London: Longmans, Green, Reader, and Dyer, 1867), pp. 303–6.

Henry II, king of the English, was a man of ruddy complexion, with a large, round head, piercing, blue-gray eyes, fierce and glowing red in anger, a fiery face and a harsh voice. He was short of neck, square of chest, strong of arm, and fleshy in body. By nature rather than from over-indulgence he had a large paunch, yet not such as to make him sluggish. For he was temperate in food and drink, sober and inclined to be prudent in all things so far as this is permitted to a leader. And so that he might overcome this unkindness on the part of nature by diligence, and lighten the fault of the flesh by greatness of spirit, often by an internal warfare, as it were conspiring against himself, he exercised his body with unbounded activity. Besides, wars frequently occurred; in these he was preeminent in action and gave himself not a moment of rest. In times of peace as well, he took no rest or quiet for himself. Immoderately devoted to hunting, he went out at dawn on a swift horse. Now descending into the valleys, now penetrating the forests, now ascending the peaks of mountains, he spent his days in activity; when he returned to his home in the evening, either before or after the meal one rarely saw him seated. Then after such strenuous exertion on his part he used to weary the whole court by continual marches. But since this is most useful in life: “nothing to excess,” and no remedy is purely good, so he accelerated other problems in his body with frequent swelling of his hands and feet, increased by abuse to these limbs sustained in riding; and if nothing else, he certainly hastened old age, the mother of all ills.

He was a man of medium height, a thing which could not be said of any of his sons—the two elder a little exceeding medium height, while the two younger remained below that stature. Setting aside the activities of his mind and his impulse to anger, he was chief among the eloquent, and—a thing which is most conspicuous in these times—he was most skilled in letters; a man easy to approach, tractable, and courteous; in politeness second to none. As a leader he had so strong a sense of duty that, as often as he conquered in arms, he himself was more often conquered by his sense of justice. Strenuous in war, in peace he was cautious. Often in martial affairs he shrank from the possible disasters of war, and wisely tried all else before resorting to arms. He wept over those lost in the line of battle more than their leader; he was more gentle to the dead soldier than to the living, mourning with much greater grief over the dead than winning the living with his love. When disasters threatened, none was kinder; when security was gained, no one was more severe. Fierce toward the unconquered, merciful toward the conquered; strict toward those at home, easy toward strangers; in public lavish, in private prudent. If he had once hated a man, rarely afterward would he be fond of him, and scarcely ever would he hate one whom he had once loved. He was especially fond of hawking; he was equally delighted with dogs, which followed wild beasts by sagacity of scent, taking pleasure as well in their loud sonorous barkings as in their swift speed. Would that he had been as much inclined to devotion as he was to hunting!

Fig. 30. Effigies of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine. King Henry II (r. 1154–89) and Queen Eleanor are shown here in nineteenth-century engravings drawn from their tomb effigies at the Abbey of Fontévrault in Anjou. From the time of William the Conqueror until the early thirteenth century, most English kings were buried in religious establishments in their French, rather than their English, territories.

After the grave enmity with his sons, instigated, it is said, by their mother, he was a public violator of his marriage vows. With a natural inconstancy, he often and freely broke his word. For whenever matters became difficult, he preferred to break his promise rather than turn from what he was doing, and he would sooner hold his words invalid than abandon his deeds. In all his actions he was prudent and moderate; and on account of this, the remedy going somewhat too far, he was dilatory in doing right and justice, and, to the great harm of his people, he was slow to respond in such matters. And justice should be freely granted, according to God, but justice which is priceless came at a price, and everything available was for sale at a high price and for a profit. . . .

He was a most diligent maker and keeper of peace; he was incomparable in giving alms, especially for the support of the land of Palestine. He was a lover of humility, an enemy of fame and pride. “He filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he sent empty away. He exalted the meek and cast down the mighty from their seats (Luke 1:53).”

He detestably presumed to usurp things which are God’s; zealous for justice, though not from knowledge, he joined the rights of the kingdom to those of the Church, gathering both to himself. Although he was a son of the Church and had drawn from her the honor of his position, either unmindful or inattentive to the holy power which had been conferred upon him, he devoted scarcely any time to divine services; and even this little time, perhaps on account of great affairs of state and for the sake of the public welfare, he consumed more in plans and talk than in true devotion. The revenues of the vacant sees he diverted into the public treasury. The mass became corrupted by the working of the leaven, and while the royal purse kept receiving that which Christ demands as his own, new troubles kept arising. In the meantime he kept pouring out the universal treasure, giving to a wicked soldiery what ought to have been given to the priesthood.

Very wisely he planned many things, arranging them carefully. These affairs did not always result in success—in fact, they often turned out quite the opposite. But never did any great disaster occur which did not spring from causes connected with his family. As a father he enjoyed the childhood of his children with natural affection; through their elder years, however, he treated them more as a stepfather. And although great and famous sons were his, nevertheless they were a hindrance to his perfect happiness. Perhaps this was according to his deserts, since he always pursued his successors with hatred. . . . Whether because of some fault in marriage, or as punishment for some parental misdeed, there was never peace between the father and his sons or among the sons themselves. But having summarily subdued the foes of the kingdom and the disturbers of peace, brothers and sons, natives and foreigners, he saw all that followed went according to his will. If only he had also, by the proper service of good works, finally recognized this ultimate divine favor.

Questions: Which elements of this portrait seem to be standard traits associated with any king? Which have the ring of reality? What does Gerald admire in the king, and what does he criticize? Why? What aspects of Henry’s character would most appeal to the twelfth-century public?

34. The Constitutions of Clarendon

Since one of Henry II’s projects was the standardization of legal procedures, he wished to assert more authority over the Church, whose ecclesiastical courts were felt to offer excessive protection to clergy who broke the law. In 1164 Henry sought the agreement of church leaders to the Constitutions of Clarendon, which had been drafted by royal officials and which Henry, somewhat disingenuously, claimed were merely a restatement of well-established customs governing relations between the English Church and government. But Thomas Becket, Henry’s former chancellor and now archbishop of Canterbury, balked at approving the Constitutions, and thus began his famous quarrel with the king.

Source: trans. H. Gee and W.G. Hardy, Documents Illustrative of the History of the English Church (London: Macmillan, 1910), pp. 68–72; revised.

In the year 1164 from our Lord’s incarnation, the fourth of the pontificate of Alexander [III], the tenth of Henry II, most illustrious king of the English, in the presence of the same king, was made this remembrance or acknowledgment of a certain part of the customs, liberties, and dignities of his ancestors, that is, of King Henry [I] his grandfather, and of others, which ought to be observed and held in the realm. And owing to strifes and dissensions which had taken place between the clergy and justices of the lord king and the barons of the realm, in respect of customs and dignities of the realm, this recognition was made before the archbishops and bishops and clergy, and the earls and barons and nobles of the realm. And these same customs were recognized by the archbishops and bishops, and earls and barons, and by those of high rank and age in the realm, namely, Thomas, archbishop of Canterbury, and [12 other bishops] conceded, and by word of mouth steadfastly promised on the word of truth, to the lord king and his heirs, should be kept and observed in good faith and without evil intent, these being present: [38 barons and royal servants, listed by name], and many other magnates and nobles of the realm, clerical as well as lay.

Now of the acknowledged customs and dignities of the realm a certain part is contained in the present document, of which part these are the chapters:

1. If controversy shall arise between laymen, or clergy and laymen, or clergy, regarding advowson [the right to appoint clergy to particular positions] and presentation to churches, let it be treated or concluded in the court of the lord king.

2. Churches belonging to the fee of the lord king [churches on the royal demesne] cannot be granted in perpetuity without his own assent and grant.

3. Clerks cited and accused of any matter shall, when summoned by the king’s justice, come into his own court to answer there concerning what it shall seem to the king’s court should be answered there, and in the church court for what it shall seem should be answered there; yet so that the king’s justice shall send into the court of holy Church to see in what way the matter is there treated. And if the clerk be convicted, or shall confess, the Church must no longer protect him.

4. Archbishops, bishops, and parish clergy of the realm are not allowed to leave the kingdom without license of the lord king; and if they do leave, they shall, if the king so please, give security that neither in going nor in staying nor in returning, will they seek to harm the lord king or realm.

5. Excommunicate persons are not to give pledge for the future, nor to take oath, but only to give security and pledge of abiding by the Church’s judgment that they may be absolved.

6. Laymen are not to be accused except by proper and legal accusers and witnesses in the presence of the bishop, so that the archdeacon does not lose his right nor anything due to him thence. And if the accused be such that no one wills or dares to accuse them, the sheriff, when requested by the bishop, shall cause twelve lawful men from the neighborhood or the town to swear before the bishop that they will show the truth in the matter according to their conscience.

7. No one who holds of the king as a tenant in chief, and none of his demesne officers are to be excommunicated, nor are the lands of any one of them to be put under an interdict unless first the lord king, if he be in the country, or his justice if he be outside the kingdom, be applied to in order that he may do right for him; and so that what shall appertain to the royal court be concluded there, and that what shall belong to the church court be sent to the same to be treated there.

8. If appeals shall occur, they must proceed from the archdeacon to the bishop, and from the bishop to the archbishop. And if the archbishop fails to deliver justice, they must come at last to the lord king, that by his command the dispute be concluded in the archbishop’s court, so that it must not go further without the assent of the lord king.

9. If a dispute shall arise between a clerk and a layman, or between a layman and a clerk, as to whether a given tenement is held in free alms or as a lay fee, it shall be concluded by the consideration of the king’s chief justice on the award of twelve lawful men . . . before the king’s justiciar himself. And if the judgment be that it is held in free alms, it shall be pleaded in the church court, but if [the judgment be that it is held as a] lay fee, unless both claim under the same bishop or baron, it shall be pleaded in his own court, so that for making the award he who was first seised [in possession] will not lose his seisin until the matter is settled by the plea.

10. If anyone living in a city, or castle, or borough, or a demesne manor of the lord king, is cited by archdeacon or bishop for any offense for which he ought to answer, and he refuses to give satisfaction at their citations, it is lawful to place him under interdict; but he must not be excommunicated before the chief officer of the lord king of that town be applied to, in order that he may adjudge him to come for satisfaction. And if the king’s officer fails to do this, he shall be at the king’s mercy, and thereafter the bishop shall be able to restrain the accused by ecclesiastical justice.

11. Archbishops, bishops, and all persons of the realm who hold of the king as tenants in chief, have their possessions from the lord king as a barony, and are therefore answerable to the king’s justices and ministers, and must follow and do all royal rights and customs, and like all other barons, must be present at the trials of the court of the lord king with the barons until it comes to a judgment of loss of limb, or death.

12. When an archbishopric or bishopric is vacant, or any abbey or priory of the king’s demesne, it must be in his own hand, and from it he shall receive all revenues and rents as demesne. And when it is time to install a clergyman in that church, the lord king must cite the chief clergy of the church, and the election must take place in the chapel of the lord king himself, with the assent of the lord king, and the advice of the persons of the realm whom he has summoned to do this. And the person elected shall there do homage and fealty to the lord king as to his liege lord for his life and limbs and earthly honor, saving his order, before he is consecrated.

13. If any of the nobles of the realm forcibly prevent the archbishop or bishop or archdeacon from doing justice in regard of himself or his people, the lord king must bring them to justice. And if by chance anyone should deprive the lord king of his rights, the archbishops and bishops and archdeacons must judge him, so that he gives satisfaction to the lord king.

14. No church or cemetery is to detain the goods of those who are under forfeit of the king against the king’s justice, because they belong to the king himself, whether they be found inside churches or outside.

15. Pleas of debts due under pledge of faith or without pledge of faith are to be in the king’s justice.

16. Sons of villeins ought not to be ordained without the assent of the lord on whose land they are known to have been born.

Now the record of the aforesaid royal customs and dignities was made by the said archbishops and bishops, and earls and barons, and the nobles and elders of the realm, at Clarendon, on the fourth day before the Purification of the Blessed Mary [29 January], ever Virgin, the lord Henry the king’s son with his father the lord king being present there. There are, moreover, many other great customs and dignities of holy mother Church and the lord king and the barons of the realm which are not contained in this writing. And let them be safe for holy Church and the lord king and his heirs and the barons of the realm, and be inviolably observed.

Questions: What are the potential areas of disagreement? What are the implications of the king’s assertions of authority over the English Church? What precedents have you encountered, in earlier documents, for the king’s position? What are the implications of Becket’s resistance to the Constitutions?

35. The Murder and Miracles of Thomas Becket

The quarrel between Henry II and Archbishop Thomas Becket, in which the Constitutions of Clarendon (doc. 34) featured prominently, quickly escalated and resulted in Becket’s exile overseas. Years of bitter argument and tense negotiation followed. In 1170 a compromise allowed the archbishop to return home, which he did in December, the point at which the excerpt below takes up the story. The clerk Edward Grim, author of the biographical extract below, was an eyewitness of and participant in the events at Canterbury, though not those at the royal court in France. The miracles that follow were selected from over four hundred such stories collected by William of Canterbury within five years of Becket’s death.

Source: Grim, trans. W.H. Hutton, S. Thomas of Canterbury, An Account of His Life and Fame from the Contemporary Biographers and Other Chroniclers (London: David Nutt, 1899), pp. 233–45, revised; additional material trans. E. Amt from Materials for the History of Thomas Becket, ed. J.C. Robertson (London: Rolls Series, 1875–83), vol. 1, pp. 145, 147, 154, 207, 213–14, 326, 362, 393; vol. 2, pp. 428–30; miracles, trans. E.P. Cheyney, Readings in English History Drawn from the Original Sources (Boston: Ginn and Company, 1922), pp. 160–64; revised.

Edward Grim’s Life of Thomas Becket

Having returned [to England], therefore, with the highest purity and devotion of spirit, the archbishop celebrated the holy nativity of the Savior, cheerfully reminding his people that his own way did not lie among men. On the day of the Lord’s nativity, as soon as he had finished his sermon to the people, with a terrible sentence he condemned [Robert de Broc,] one of the king’s men, who, had attacked some of the archbishop’s servants the day before and, to insult them, had shamefully cut off their horses’ tails. And he laid a similar penalty on Ralph de Broc too, who was [Robert’s] blood relative and no gentler in character, the originator of all malice, who raged like a wild beast against the archbishop’s men and household. And he made it clear to the people that the three bishops [of York, Salisbury, and London] lay under the same sentence, lest anyone communicate with such men, who had dared to challenge the injunction of kings, against the ancient statutes of Christ Church, Canterbury. In conclusion he declared, “Whoever sows hatred and discord between me and my lord the king, let them be accursed by Jesus Christ, and let the memory of them be blotted out from the assembly of the saints.” But those whom malice had already armed against the Lord’s anointed one were not at all afraid of the declaration of this terrible sentence.

Then the above-named bishops, entrusting themselves to the indignation of the king rather than to the judgment of God and the Church, quickly crossed the sea and went to the king, and bowing at his feet, with enough complaining speech to turn a hard heart, they deplored their suspension, telling how they had been treated by their lord of Canterbury . . . to the disgrace of the king and the kingdom. The accusers added that he would dare even more than he had so far, if the king were to bear such presumption patiently. Beset by such things, as if driven mad, scarcely containing himself in his frenzy, and not realizing what he was exclaiming, the king in the midst of repeated exchanges is said to have spoken thus: “I have nourished and promoted in my realm sluggish and wretched knaves who are faithless to their lord, and permit him to be tricked thus infamously by a low clerk!” He spoke, and withdrew from the midst of the colloquy, seeking a private place, to see whether solitude might ameliorate the madness he had conceived, and reflection might better cast out the raging poison he had swallowed. But his words were heard by four knights, distinguished in birth and members of the king’s own household, who fatally interpreted the meaning of the king’s words. Permitting no delay, and certainly urged on by one who was a murderer from the beginning, they conspired with one accord in the death of an innocent. And he who inspired the deed made it easy to perpetrate. For, leaving the king utterly ignorant, and embarking on a ship, at their prayer by favorable winds they were transported to England, landing at the “port of dogs” [Dover], and from then on they should be called miserable dogs, not knights. But the king did not know that the knights had departed. . . . But they were carried across the sea with such speed that they could not be recalled or caught by messengers before the sin was committed. It is clear enough from the consequences that their accursed and rash action was contrary to the king’s plan and will. For when the martyrdom of the venerable pontiff was announced, such confusion seized his mind, such sadness disturbed him, such unheard-of horror of the deed at the same time swallowed him up and possessed him, that no words can describe it. He tried to determine, since he was ignorant, whether in fact he might have called them back to thwart their purpose, either by custody in prison or any other method. But sometimes God’s providence, using evil men for good, thereby honors his beloved one more highly, whence human malice believes in this humility. In fact, human talent and skill are useless against the purpose of the Divinity. Surely it pleased the Savior to snatch from this misery, by martyrdom, one whom fullness of faith had made worthy of martyrdom.

As soon as they landed the said persons, who were not knights but miserable wretches, summoned the king’s officials whom the archbishop had excommunicated, and by dishonestly declaring that they were acting on the king’s orders and in his name they got together a band of followers. They gathered together, ready for any impious deed, and on the fifth day after the Nativity of Christ, that is on the day after the festival of the Holy Innocents [29 December], gathered together against the innocent. The hour of dinner being over, the saint had withdrawn with some of his household into an inner room to transact some business, leaving a crowd waiting outside in the hall. The four knights entered with one attendant. They were received with respect as the servants of the king and well known, and those who had waited on the archbishop, being now themselves at dinner, invited them to table. They scorned the food, thirsting rather for blood. By their order the archbishop was informed that four men had arrived from the king and wished to speak with him. He consented and they entered. They sat for a long time in silence and did not salute the archbishop or speak to him. Nor did the man of wise counsel salute them immediately when they came in, that according to the Scripture, “By your words you shall be justified” (Matthew 12:37), he might discover their intentions from their questions. After awhile, however, he turned to them, and carefully scanning the face of each one he greeted them in a friendly manner, but the wretches, who had made a treaty with death, answered his greeting with curses, and ironically prayed that God might help him. At this speech of bitterness and malice the man of God colored deeply, now seeing that they had come to harm him. Whereupon Fitz Urse, who seemed to be the chief among them and the most eager for crime, breathing fury, broke out in these words, “We have something to say to you by the king’s command: say if you wish us to say it here before everyone.” But the archbishop knew what they were going to say, and replied, “These things should not be spoken in private or in the chamber, but in public.” Now these wretches so burned for the slaughter of the archbishop that if the door-keeper had not called back the clerks—for the archbishop had ordered them all to go out—they would have killed him, as they afterward confessed, with the shaft of his cross which stood nearby. When those who had gone out returned, he, who had before thus reviled the archbishop, said, “When peace was made between you and all disputes were ended, the king sent you back free to your own see [the bishop’s area of jurisdiction], as you demanded: but you on the other hand, adding insult to your former injuries, have broken the peace and done evil to your lord. For those by whose ministry the king’s son was crowned and invested with the honors of sovereignty, you, with obstinate pride, have condemned by sentence of suspension, and you have also bound with the chain of anathema those servants of the king by whose prudent counsels the business of the kingdom is transacted. From this it is manifest that you would take away the crown from the king’s son if you could. Now the plots and schemes you have laid to carry out your designs against the king are known to all. Say, therefore, if you are ready to answer for these things in the king’s presence, for this is why we have been sent.” The archbishop answered them, “Never was it my wish, as God is my witness, to take away the crown from my lord the king’s son, or diminish his power; rather would I wish him three crowns, and would help him obtain the greatest realms of the earth with right and equity. But it is not just for my lord the king to be offended because my people accompany me through the cities and towns, and come out to meet me, when they have for seven years been deprived of the consolation of my presence; and even now I am ready to satisfy him wherever my lord pleases, if I have done anything wrong; but he has forbidden me with threats to enter any of his cities and towns, or even villages. Moreover, the prelates were suspended from their office not by me, but by the lord pope.” “It was through you,” said the madmen, “that they were suspended. Absolve them.” “I do not deny,” he answered, “that it was done through me, but it is beyond my power, and utterly incompatible with my position that I should absolve those whom the pope has bound. Let them go to him, on whom reflects the contempt they have shown toward me and their mother, the church of Christ at Canterbury.”

“Now,” said these butchers, “the king commands you to depart with all your men from the kingdom, and the land which lies under his sway: for from this day on there can be no peace with you, or any of yours, for you have broken the peace.” Then he said, “Let your threats cease and your wranglings be stilled. I trust in the king of heaven, who for his own suffered on the Cross: for from this day no one shall see the sea between me and my church. I did not come here to flee; he who wants me shall find me here. And it does not befit the king to so command me; the insults which I and mine have received from the king’s servants are sufficient, without further threats.” “Thus did the king command,” they replied, “and we will make it good, for whereas you ought to have shown respect to the king’s majesty, and submitted your vengeance to his justice, you have followed the impulse of your passion and basely thrust from the church his ministers and servants.” At these words Christ’s champion, rising in fervor of spirit against his accusers, exclaimed, “Whoever shall presume to violate the decrees of the sacred Roman see or the laws of Christ’s church, and shall refuse to make satisfaction, I will not spare him, whoever he may be, nor will I delay to inflict ecclesiastical censures on the delinquents.”

Confounded by these words the knights sprang up, for they could bear his firmness no longer, and coming close to him they said, “We declare to you that you have spoken in peril of your head.” “Do you come to kill me?” he answered, “I have committed my cause to the judge of all; and so I am not moved by threats, nor are your swords more ready to strike than my soul is for martyrdom. Seek him who flees from you; me you will find foot to foot in the battle of the Lord.” As they went out with tumult and insults, he who was fitly surnamed Ursus [meaning bear], called out in a brutal way, “In the king’s name we order you clerks and monks to take and hold that man, lest he escape by flight before the king has full justice on his body.” As they went out with these words, the man of God followed them to the door and exclaimed, “Here, here you shall find me,” putting his hand over his neck as though showing the place where they were to strike. He returned then to the place where he had sat before, and consoled his clerks, and exhorted them not to fear; and, as it seemed to us who were present, waited as unperturbed—though they sought to slay him alone—as though they had come to invite him to a wedding. Before long back the butchers returned with swords and axes and falchions [single-edged swords] and other weapons fit for the crime which their minds were set on. When they found the doors barred and they were not opened to their knocking, they turned aside by a private way through the orchard to a wooden partition which they cut and hacked till they broke it down. The servants and clerks were horribly frightened by this terrible noise, and, like sheep before the wolf, dispersed here and there. Those who remained called out that he should flee to the church, but he did not forget his promise not to flee from his murderers through fear of death, and refused to go. . . . He who had long sighed for martyrdom now saw that, as it seemed, the occasion had now come, and feared lest he should delay it or put it away altogether if he went into the church. But the monks were insistent, declaring that it were not fit for him to be absent from vespers, which were at that moment being performed. He remained immoveable in that place of less reverence, for he had now in his mind caught a sight of the hour of happy consummation for which he had sighed so long, and he feared lest the reverence of the sacred place should deter even the impious from their purpose, and cheat him of his heart’s desire. . . . But when he would not be persuaded by argument or prayer to take refuge in the church, the monks caught hold of him in spite of his resistance, and pulled, dragged, and pushed him, not heeding his protests, and brought him to the church. . . .

When the holy archbishop entered the church, the monks stopped the vespers which they had begun and ran to him, glorifying God at the sight of their father, whom they had heard was dead, alive and safe. They hastened, by bolting the doors of the church, to protect their shepherd from the slaughter. But the champion, turning to them, ordered the church doors to be thrown open, saying, “It is not meet to make a fortress of the house of prayer, the Church of Christ: even if it is not shut up, it is still able to protect its own, and we shall triumph over the enemy in suffering rather than in fighting, for we came to suffer, not to resist.” And straightway, they entered the house of peace and reconciliation with swords sacrilegiously drawn, striking horror in the beholders’ hearts by their very looks and the clanging of their arms. . . .

Inspired by fury the knights called out, “Where is Thomas Becket, traitor to the king and realm?” When he did not answer, they cried out the more furiously, “Where is the archbishop?” At this, intrepid and fearless, as it is written, “the just, like a bold lion, shall be without fear” (cf. Proverbs 28:1) he descended from the stair where he had been dragged by the monks in fear of the knights, and in a clear voice answered, “I am here, no traitor to the king, but a priest. Why do you seek me?” And whereas he had already said that he did not fear them, he added, “So I am ready to suffer in his name, who redeemed me by his blood: far be it from me to flee from your swords, or to depart from justice.” Having spoken thus, he turned to the right, under a pillar, having on one side the altar of the blessed Mother of God and ever Virgin Mary, on the other that of Saint Benedict the Confessor, by whose example and prayers, having crucified the world with its lusts, he bore all that the murderers could do with such constancy of soul as if he were no longer in the flesh. The murderers followed him. “Absolve,” they cried, “and restore to communion those whom you have excommunicated, and restore their powers to those whom you have suspended.” He answered, “There has been no satisfaction, and I will not absolve them.” “Then you shall die,” they cried, “and receive what you deserve.” “I am ready,” he replied, “to die for my Lord, that in my blood the Church may obtain liberty and peace. But in the name of almighty God, I forbid you to hurt my people, whether clerk or lay.” Thus piously and thoughtfully did the noble martyr ensure that no one near him should be hurt, nor the innocent be brought to death, whereby his glory should be dimmed as he hastened to Christ. . . . Then they laid sacrilegious hands on him, pulling and dragging him so that they might kill him outside the church, or carry him away as a prisoner, as they afterward confessed. But when he could not be forced away from the pillar, one of them pressed on him and clung to him more closely. He pushed him off calling him “pimp,” and saying, “Touch me not, Reginald, you who owe me fealty and subjection; you and your accomplices are acting like madmen.” The knight, fired with terrible rage at this severe repulse, waved his sword over the sacred head. “No faith,” he cried, “nor subjection do I owe you against my fealty to my lord, the king.” Then the unconquered martyr, seeing the hour at hand which should put an end to this miserable life and straightaway give him the crown of immortality promised by the Lord, inclined his neck as one who prays and joining his hands he lifted them up, and commended his cause and that of the Church to God, to Saint Mary, and to the blessed martyr Saint Denis. Scarce had he said the words than the wicked knight, fearing lest he should be rescued by the people and escape alive, leapt upon him suddenly and wounded this lamb who was sacrificed to God on the head, cutting off the top of the crown which the sacred unction of the chrism had dedicated to God, and by the same blow he wounded the arm of him who tells this. For he [Edward Grim], when the others, both monks and clerks, fled, stuck close to the sainted archbishop and held him in his arms until the one he interposed was almost severed. Behold the simplicity of the dove, the wisdom of the serpent, in the martyr who opposed his body to those who struck that he might preserve his head, that is his soul and the Church, unharmed, nor would he use any means to escape from those who destroyed his body. O worthy shepherd, who gave himself so boldly to the wolves that his flock might not be torn! Because he had rejected the world, the world, wishing to crush him, unknowingly exalted him. Then he received a second blow on the head but still stood firm. At the third blow he fell on his knees and elbows, offering himself a living victim, and saying in a low voice, “For the name of Jesus and the protection of the Church I am ready to embrace death.” Then the third knight inflicted a terrible wound as he lay, by which the sword was broken against the pavement, and the crown which was large was separated from the head, so that the blood, white with the brain, and the brain, red with blood, dyed the surface of the virgin mother Church with the life and death of the confessor and martyr in the colors of the lily and the rose. The fourth knight prevented anyone from interfering so that the others might freely perpetrate the murder. As for the fifth, no knight but that clerk who had entered with the knights, so that the martyr who was in other things like Christ would not lack a fifth blow, he put his foot on the neck of the holy priest and precious martyr, and, horrible to say, scattered his brains and blood over the pavement, calling out to the others, “Let us away, knights, he will rise no more.”

Miracles of Saint Thomas, by William of Canterbury

Of a matron who on the seventh day spoke with the martyr in her sleep

Seven days had passed since the death of the martyr. A certain freeborn woman, wife of one Ralph, a man of honor according to this world, was resting on her bed at home. This woman, hearing of the death of the martyr, began to be somewhat sad, mourning as a good sheep for the death of a kind shepherd, for the dishonor to the Church and the wickedness of the crime. Because of this sorrow she obtained the honor of seeing a vision in her sleep. Upon entering her place of prayer she found a man standing before the altar, wearing a hood and clad in white, as though he were performing the divine service. When he saw her he seated himself near the southern part of the room, nodding familiarly to her as if seeking to ask that she draw nearer. She asked what she could do to gain salvation for her soul. He replied, “Every week the sixth day must be observed as a fast day by you, and when you have passed a year in this way come to me.” Then he added, “Do you know who it is with whom you are conversing?” “You are the one,” she answered, “whom those four wicked men presumed to murder with such insolent boldness.”

Of a townsman whom the martyr suddenly snatched from this world, because he had snatched a poor woman’s sheep

A rich man named Ralph, of the town of Nottingham, detained some few sheep of a poor woman. This latter begged to be permitted to buy them back, saying, “Grant this kindness, I beg, my master, to your handmaid, that I may receive back my sheep, provided I pay eight pieces of silver for each one.” He refused, since he wished to keep those sheep she owned for himself. Hear what happened, in order that you may not be enticed to become rich from the goods of another. He was riding along on his pacer, snapping a switch which he was carrying in his hand. The woman pressed him that she might have the property which was really hers by paying for it. “Do not hinder my journey, my master,” said she; “I have planned to go to the holy martyr Thomas, and I have destined the wool of my sheep to pay my expenses on the way. Show mercy to me, that the martyr may do the same to you.” Hearing this he looked down at her, calling out in terrible tones, “Depart, you low and worthless slave, I shall do nothing for you.” She kept urging him, adding prayers to her money; but seeing that she gained nothing either from prayers or money, she ended with a curse. “May the curse of God and of the martyr Thomas fall on this man who has robbed me of my own property.” At this word the rich man, struck by the divine hand, fell heavily forward on the pommel of his saddle, where, groaning, he moaned, “I die,” for the blow had stopped his breath.

Of a girl who had sunk in some water

Thanks be to God, who glorifies his martyr Thomas everywhere. In Normandy there was a little girl, Hawisia, daughter of a peasant of the village of Grochet, who, as she was wandering along in her thoughtless childish way, fell into a pond. She was only two years and three months old. When she was not found by her mother the next day or the day following that, she was sought for and found in the pool. The mother, crying out, ran to her, while the father hastened to her all dripping as she was, and, seizing her, held her by the feet. The neighbors came running up and she was pronounced dead. But at the advice of a priest she was dedicated to the holy martyr Thomas, and she was restored to life the instant the vow was made.

Questions: How did Becket’s death come about? What was his own role in it? How did contemporaries view him, both before and after his death? What is Edward Grim’s attitude toward the archbishop and toward the king? How would Thomas of Canterbury’s stories have helped spread devotion to Thomas’s cult? What do the miracles tell us about medieval life and beliefs?

36. Glanville’s Treatise on the Laws and Customs of the Kingdom of England

In the 1180s a treatise describing English civil law was written by someone familiar with the procedures of the royal courts and with Henry II’s reforms; the name of the then-justiciar Ranulf Glanville has traditionally been attached to this work, though there is little evidence supporting his authorship. By far the greatest concern of the civil law was title to land. The excerpts below describe some traditional aspects of land law (dower and inheritance customs) and some of Henry II’s innovations (the Grand Assize). The sample writs that the author includes in the treatise have been omitted.

Source: trans. J. Beames, A Translation of Glanville, ed. J.H. Beale (Washington: John Byrne & Company, 1900), pp. 31, 35–37, 39–42, 44–46, 48–55, 91–105, 113–16, 124–28, 133–36, 138–47, 149–50; revised.

Book 2. . . . Of Those Things Which Appertain to the Duel or Grand Assize

3. . . . The demand and claim of the demandant being thus made, the tenant shall have the choice of either defending himself against the demandant by the duel, or putting himself upon the king’s Grand Assize, and requiring a recognition to ascertain which of the two has the greater right to the land in dispute.

. . . But here we should observe, that after the tenant has once waged the duel he must abide by his choice, and cannot afterward put himself upon the Assize. . . . All the delays which can with propriety be resorted to having expired, it is requisite that before the duel can take place, the demandant should appear in court, accompanied by his champion armed for the contest. Nor will it suffice, if he then produce any other champion than one of those whom he has engaged to prove his claim: neither, indeed, can any other contend for him, after the duel has been once waged. . . .

The duel being finished, a fine of 60s. shall be imposed upon the conquered party, in the name of recreantise [acknowledgment of defeat], besides which he shall lose his law; and if the champion of the tenant should be conquered, his principal shall lose the land in question, with all the fruits and produce found upon it at the time of the seisin of the fee, and never again shall a complaint concerning the same land be heard in court. For those matters which have been once determined in the king’s court by duel remain forever after unalterable. Upon the determination of the suit, let the sheriff be commanded by the following writ to give possession of the land to the successful party. . . .

6. But, if the tenant should prefer putting himself upon the king’s Grand Assize, the demandant must either adopt the same course or decline it. If the demandant has once conceded in court that he would put himself upon the Assize, and has so expressed himself before the Justices of the Common Pleas, he cannot afterward retract, but ought either to stand or fall by the Assize.

If he objects to putting himself upon the Grand Assize, he ought in such case to show some cause why the Assize should not proceed between them. . . .

7. The Grand Assize is a certain royal benefit bestowed upon the people, and emanating from the clemency of the prince, with the advice of his nobles. So effectually does this proceeding preserve the lives and civil condition of men, that every one may now possess his right in safety, at the same time that he avoids the doubtful event of the duel. Nor is this all: the severe punishment of an unexpected and premature death is avoided, or at least the opprobrium of a lasting infamy, of that dreadful and ignominious word that so disgracefully resounds from the mouth of the conquered champion.

This legal institution flows from the most profound equity. For that justice, which after many and long delays is scarcely, if ever, elicited by the duel, is more advantageously and expeditiously attained through the benefit of this institution. This Assize, indeed, allows not so many delays as the duel, as will be seen in the sequel. And by this course of proceeding, both the labor of men and the expenses of the poor are saved. Besides, by so much as the testimony of many credible witnesses, in judicial proceedings, preponderates over that of only one, by so much greater equity is this institution regulated than that of the duel. For since the duel proceeds upon the testimony [the combat] of one juror, this constitution requires the oaths of at least twelve lawful men.

These are the proceedings which lead to the Assize. The party who puts himself upon the Assize should, from the first, . . . sue out a writ for keeping the peace. . . .

10. By means of such writs, the tenant may protect himself, and may put himself upon the Assize, until his adversary, appearing in court, pray another writ, in order that four lawful knights of the county, and of the neighborhood, might elect twelve lawful knights from the same neighborhood, who should say, upon oath, which of the litigating parties has the greater right to the land in question. . . .

12. . . . [Because of the large number of possible delays,] a certain just constitution has been passed, under which the court is authorized to expedite the suit, upon the four knights appearing in court on the appointed day, and being prepared to proceed to the election of the twelve knights. . . . But, if the tenant himself be present in court, he may possibly have a just cause of exception against one or more of the twelve knights, and concerning this he should be heard in court. It is usual, indeed, for the purpose of satisfying the absent party, not to confine the number to be elected to twelve, but to comprise as many more as may incontrovertibly satisfy such absent party, when he returns to court. . . .

Indeed, if the object is to expedite the proceedings, it will more avail to follow the direction of the court, than to observe the accustomed course of the law. It is, therefore, committed to the discretion and judgment of the king or his justices, to temper the proceeding so as to render it more beneficial and equitable. . . .

14. The election of the twelve knights having been made, they should be summoned to appear in court, prepared upon their oaths to declare which of them, namely, the tenant or the demandant, possesses the greater right to the property in question. Let the summons be made by the following writ. . . .

16. On the day fixed for the attendance of the twelve knights to take the recognition, whether the tenant appears or absent himself, the recognition shall proceed without delay. . . .

17. When the Assize proceeds to make recognition, the right will be well known either to all the jurors, or some may know it and some not, or all may be alike ignorant concerning it. If none of them are acquainted with the truth of the matter, and this be testified upon their oaths in court, recourse must be had to others, until such can be found who do know the truth of it. Should it, however, happen that some of them know the truth of the matter, and some not, the latter are to be rejected, and others summoned to court, until twelve, at least, can be found who are unanimous. But, if some of the jurors should decide for one party, and some of them for the other, then others must be added, until at least twelve can be found who agree in favor with one side. Each of the knights summoned for this purpose ought to swear that he will neither utter that which is false, nor knowingly conceal the truth. With respect to the knowledge requisite on the part of those sworn, they should be acquainted with the merits of the cause, either from what they have personally seen and heard, or from the declarations of their fathers or other equally creditable sources, as if falling within their own immediate knowledge.

18. When the twelve knights . . . entertain no doubt about the truth of the thing, then the Assize must proceed to ascertain whether the demandant or the tenant has the greater right to the subject in dispute.

But if they decide in favor of the tenant, or make any other declaration by which it should sufficiently appear to the king or his justices that the tenant has greater right to the subject in dispute, then, by the judgment of the court, he shall be . . . forever released from the claim of the demandant, who shall never again be heard in court concerning the matter. For those questions which have once been lawfully determined by the king’s Grand Assize cannot with propriety be revived on any subsequent occasion. But if by this Assize it be decided in court in favor of the demandant, then his adversary shall lose the land in question, which shall be restored to the demandant, together with all the fruits and produce found upon the land at the time of seisin. . . .

Book 6. Of Dower

1. The term dower is used in two senses. Dower, in the sense in which it is commonly used, means that which any free man, at the time of his being affianced, gives to his bride at the church door. For every man is bound by the ecclesiastical as well as the secular law to endow his bride at the time he is affianced to her. When a man endows his bride, he either names the dower, or not. In the latter case, the third part of all the husband’s freehold land is understood to be the wife’s dower; and the third part of all such freehold lands as her husband held at the time of affiancing, and of which he was seised in his demesne, is termed a woman’s reasonable dower. If, however, the man names the dower, and mentions more than a third part, such designation shall not avail, as far as it applies to the quantity. It shall be reduced by apportionment to the third part; because a man may endow a woman of less, but cannot endow her of more than a third part of his land.

2. Should it happen, as it sometimes does, that a man endows a woman, having but a small freehold at the time of his being affianced, he may afterward enlarge her dower to the third part or less of the lands he may have purchased.

But if upon the assignment of dower, no mention was made concerning purchases, even admitting that at the time of affiancing he possessed but a small estate, and that he afterward much increased it, the wife cannot claim as dower more than a third part of such land as her husband held at the time of being affianced, and when he endowed her. The same rule prevails if a man, not being possessed of any land, should endow his wife with his chattels, and other things, or even with money. Should he afterward make considerable purchases in land and tenements, the wife cannot claim any part of such property so acquired by purchase; it being, with respect to the quantity or quality of the dower assigned to any woman, a general principle, that if she is satisfied to the extent of her endowment at the door of the church, she can never afterward claim as dower anything beyond it.

3. It is understood that a woman cannot make any disposition of her dower during the lifetime of her husband. For since the wife herself is in a legal sense under the absolute power of her husband, . . . the dower, as well as the woman herself and all things belonging to her, should be considered to be fully at the disposal of the husband. . . .

4. Upon the death of the husband of a woman, her dower, if it has been named, will either be vacant or not.

In the former case, the woman may, with the consent of the heir, enter upon her dower, and retain the possession of it. If, however, the dower be not vacant, either the whole will be so circumstanced, or some part will be vacant, and some not. If a certain part be vacant, and a certain part not, she may pursue the course we have described, and enter into the part which is vacant; and for the residue, she shall have a writ of right, directed to her warrantor [her husband’s heir], in order to compel him to do complete justice concerning the land which she claims as appertaining to her reasonable dower. . . .

6. The plea shall be discussed in the court of the warrantor by virtue of this writ, until it be proved that such court has failed in doing justice. . . . Upon proof of this, the suit shall be removed into the county court, through the medium of which the suit may, at the pleasure of the king or his chief justiciary, be lawfully transferred to the king’s court. . . .

8. Pleas of this description, as, indeed, some others, may be transferred from the county court to the supreme court of the king for a variety of causes: as, on account of any doubt which may arise in the county court concerning the plea itself, and which that court is unable to decide. . . . Upon the day appointed in court, either both parties will be absent, or only one will be, or both will appear. . . . If both be present in court, the woman shall set forth her claim against her adversary in the following words: “I demand such land, as appertaining to such land as was named to me in dower, and of which my husband endowed me at the door of the church, the day he espoused me, as that of which he was invested and seised at the time when he endowed me.”

Various are the answers which the adverse party usually gives to a claim of this kind; in substance, however, he will either deny that she was so endowed, or concede it.

But, whatever he may allege, the suit ought not to proceed without the heir of the woman’s husband. He shall, therefore, be summoned to appear in court to hear the suit, by the following writ. . . .

Should the heir, after having been summoned, neither appear, nor essoin himself [give a legal excuse for not appearing], on the first, second, nor third day; or if, after having cast the usual essoins, he should on the fourth day neither appear nor send his attorney, there may be a question of how he ought to be, or can be, distrained, consistently with the law and custom of the realm. In the opinion of some, his appearance in court shall be compelled by distraining his fee. And [they think] that, therefore, by the direction of the court so much of his fee shall be taken into the king’s hands as may be necessary to distrain him to appear in court to show whether he ought to warrant [guarantee to the woman] the land in question or not. Others think that his appearance in court for such purpose may be obtained by attaching him with pledges.

11. When, at last, the heir of the husband of the woman, the complainant, appears in court, either he will affirm the fact, and concede that the land in question appertains to the dower of the woman, . . . or he will deny it. If the heir admits this in court, he shall then be bound to recover the land against the tenant, if [the tenant] be disposed to dispute the matter, and then deliver it to the woman; and thus the contest will be changed into one between the tenant and the heir.

If, however, the heir be unwilling to contest the point, he shall be bound to give to the woman a fair equivalent; because the woman herself shall not afterward sustain any loss. But, if the heir himself neither admit nor concede to the woman that which she alleges against the tenant, then the suit may proceed between the woman and the heir . . . [and] the matter may be decided by the duel, provided the woman produces in court those who heard and saw the endowment, or any proper witness who may have heard and seen the fact of her being endowed by the ancestor of the heir at the church door, at the time of the espousals, and be ready to prove such fact against him.

Should the woman prevail against the heir in the duel, then the heir shall be bound to deliver the land in question to the woman, or to give her an adequate recompense.

Questions: What options are available for settling a land dispute? Why would the crown encourage litigants to use the Grand Assize rather than settle disputes via trial by combat? What were the advantages and disadvantages of widowhood? Can you deduce the reasons for laws regarding wills and heirs? What do these laws reveal about the legal status of women?

37. Jocelin of Brakelond on the Misfortunes of Henry of Essex

Henry of Essex was a locally important baron and, in the 1150s, a royal constable. While we know a fair amount about him from record sources, this narrative account of his life, found in a monastic chronicle, is unusual for a layman. Though short, it sheds light on many aspects of medieval life. The duel in this story represents the normal method of deciding a judicial dispute between two vassals in their lord’s court—in this case, two barons in the court of their lord, King Henry II, in 1163. It is perhaps relevant that Robert de Montfort, Henry of Essex’s accuser, had a competing claim to Henry’s castle and lands at Haughley, which Robert’s family had lost during the reign of Henry I.

Source: trans. L.C. Jane, The Chronicle of Jocelin of Brakelond, Monk of St. Edmundsbury: A Picture of Monastic and Social Life in the XIIth Century (London: Chatto and Windus, 1907), pp. 108–12; revised.

When the abbot had come to Reading, and we with him, we were rightly received by the monks of that place. And among them was Henry of Essex as a professed monk, who, when he had a chance to speak to the abbot and to those who were present, told us how he had been conquered in a trial by battle, and how and why Saint Edmund confounded him in the very hour of conflict. I wrote down his tale by command of the lord abbot, and I wrote it also in these words.

Inasmuch as it is impossible to avoid unknown evil, we have thought it well to commit to writing the acts and crimes of Henry of Essex, that they may be a warning, and not an example. Stories often convey a useful and salutary warning.

The said Henry, then, while he enjoyed great prosperity, had the reputation of a great man among the nobles of the realm, and he was renowned by birth, noted for his deeds of arms, the standardbearer of the king, and feared by all men owing to his might. And when others who lived near him enriched the church of the blessed king and martyr Edmund [the monastery at Bury Saint Edmunds] with goods and rents, he on the contrary not only shut his eyes to this fact, but further violently, and wrongfully, and by injuries took away the annual rent of five shillings, and converted it to his own use.

In the course of time, moreover, when a case arose in the court of Saint Edmund concerning a wrong done to a certain maiden, the same Henry came there, and protested and declared that the trial ought to be held in his court because the place where the said maiden was born was within his lordship of Lailand. With the excuse of this affair, he dared to trouble the court of Saint Edmund for a long while with journeyings and countless charges.

But fortune, which had assisted his wishes in these and other like matters, brought upon him a cause for lasting grief, and after mocking him with a happy beginning, planned a sad conclusion for him; for it is the custom of fortune to smile, that she may rage; to flatter, that she may deceive; and to raise up only that she may cast down. For presently there rose against him Robert de Montfort, his relative, and a man not unequal to him in birth and power, and slandered him in the presence of the princes of the land, accusing him of treason to the king. For he asserted that Henry, in the course of the Welsh war [in 1157], in the difficult pass of Coleshill, had treacherously cast down the standard of the lord king, and proclaimed his death in a loud voice; and that he had induced those who were coming to the help of the king to turn in flight. As a matter of fact, the said Henry of Essex believed that the renowned King Henry II, who had been caught in an ambush by the Welsh, had been slain, and this would have been the truth, had not Roger, earl of Clare, a man renowned in birth and more renowned for his deeds of arms, quickly rushed up with his men of Clare, and raised the standard of the lord king, which revived the strength and courage of the whole army.

Then Henry resisted the said Robert in the council, and utterly denied the charge, so that after a little while, [in 1163] the matter came to a trial by battle. Then when they met at Reading to fight on an island somewhat near the abbey, a multitude of persons also gathered there to see how the affair would end. And it came to pass, that when Robert manfully made his armor ring again with hard and frequent blows, and his bold beginning promised the fruit of victory, Henry’s strength began to fail him a little. And as he looked round about, behold! on the edge of land and water, he saw the glorious king and martyr Edmund, armed and, as it were, flying through the air, and looking toward him with an angry countenance, often shaking his head in a threatening manner, and showing himself full of wrath. And Henry also saw with the saint another knight, Gilbert de Cereville, who appeared not only less than the saint in point of dignity, but also head and shoulders shorter; and he looked on him with accusing and angry glances. This Gilbert, afflicted with bonds and tortures by order of the said Henry, had died, as the result of an accusation brought against him by Henry’s wife, who cast the penalty for her own illdoing on an innocent man, and said that she could not endure the evil suggestions of the said Gilbert.

When he saw these sights, then, Henry grew alarmed and fearful, and called to mind that an old crime brings new shame. And now, giving up all hope, and abandoning skillful fighting for a blind rush, he took the part of one who attacks rather than that of one who defends himself. And when he gave hard blows, he received harder; and while he fought manfully, he was more manfully resisted. In a word, he fell conquered.

And as he was thought to be dead, in accordance with the earnest request of the magnates of England, the relatives of the said Henry, the monks of that place were allowed to give burial to his corpse. But he afterward revived, and when he had regained the blessing of health, under the regular habit of a monk, he wiped out the stain of his former life, and taking care to purify the long week of his dissolute past with at least one sabbath, he cultivated the study of the virtues, to bring forth the fruit of happiness.

Questions: What were Henry’s “crimes?” How does the monastic context shape the story of Henry’s life? From a non-religious perspective, what brought about Henry’s downfall?

38. The Political Career of Eleanor of Aquitaine

Married to the future Henry II in 1152, soon after the dissolution of her marriage to the French king Louis VII, Eleanor of Aquitaine helped rule England for decades, first as Henry’s queen and regent in Aquitaine, and later as an advisor to her sons Richard I (r. 1189–99) and John (r. 1199–1216). The first letter below is thought to have been written by Peter of Blois, a clerk in the service of Archbishop Rotrou of Rouen, at the archbishop’s behest, after Henry II’s three eldest sons, encouraged and supported by Eleanor, rose in rebellion against their father. In an interesting twist, twenty years later Peter of Blois also wrote the second letter, one of three sent in Eleanor’s name to Pope Celestine III during King Richard I’s captivity following the Third Crusade. While Eleanor (like all twelfth-century elites) did not write her own letters, this document certainly expresses her anger and frustration at what she felt to be the papacy’s inaction during her son’s thirteen-month-long captivity.

Source: trans. K.A. Smith from Patrologia cursus completus, series latina, ed. J.-P. Migne (Paris: Migne, 1844–64), vol. 207, cols. 448–49; vol. 206, cols. 1262–65.

[Peter of Blois, writing on behalf of ] Archbishop Rotrou of Rouen, to Queen Eleanor, 1173

To the queen of England, the archbishop of Rouen and his suffragen bishops send their greetings in the search for peace. It is publicly known—and indeed, no Christian can be allowed to ignore this fact—that marriage is a firm and indissoluble union. Those who have been joined together in marriage cannot be separated. This is confirmed by sacred truth, which cannot lie: as it is written, “What God has joined together, let no man put asunder (Matthew 19:6).” Just as anyone who separates spouses breaks the divine command, so, too, does the wife who separates herself from her husband and disregards the faith of this social bond. When two spouses are made one in the flesh, a spiritual union necessarily follows from their bodily union and common consent. A woman who is not subject to a man defies the natural order of things as well as the injunction of the Gospel. For “the woman’s head is the man” (1 Corinthians 11:3), from whose flesh she was made; she is joined to the man, and subject to the man’s authority. And so we are deeply grieved by the well-known and lamentable charge against you, a most prudent woman who has nonetheless abandoned her husband. [Such a woman] has forsaken his side, the body’s limb has turned against its head; even worse, you have encouraged the lord king’s children, who are also yours, to rebel against their father. It is fitting to echo the words of the prophet, who said, “I have brought up children and exalted them, but they have despised me (Isaiah 1:2).” Would that, as another prophet lamented, our life would reach its final hour and the face of the earth would swallow us so that we would not have to witness such evil! Because we know that if you do not return to your husband, there will be destruction everywhere, and what is now your sin alone will soon be shared by the entire kingdom. And so, illustrious queen, return to your husband and our lord; convert turmoil into peace through your reconciliation and restore universal happiness through your return. If you are not moved to do this by our prayers, at least take heed of the suffering of your people, the looming oppression of the Church and the destruction of the kingdom. For either truth lies, or “every kingdom divided against itself shall be brought to desolation (Luke 11:17).” The lord king himself cannot bring this desolation to an end; his sons and heirs—who have been led by your feminine hand and boyish council to rebel against this king, to whom the mightiest kings have bowed their necks. Before things get any worse, you and your sons must return to your husband, whom you are bound to obey and to live with. Repent, or you and your sons will be held in suspicion. We are very certain that he will receive you with love and ensure your safety. I beseech you to warn your sons to submit and show their love for their father, who has suffered so much anguish, so much persecution, so much illness. Lest rash actions waste and destroy what has been built up with so much sweat, we say these words to you, most pious queen, in zeal for God and with a feeling of sincere love. After all, you and your husband are both our parishioners. We cannot desert the cause of justice.

Unless you return to your husband we will be bound by canon law to use ecclesiastical authority to censure you. We will be bound to do this, albeit unwillingly, and with sorrow and tears, if you do not regain your senses. Farewell.

Queen Eleanor to Pope Celestine III, 1193

To the reverend father and lord Celestine, pope by the grace of God. Eleanor, by the wrath of God queen of the English, duchess of the Normans, and countess of the Angevins, begs him to show himself to be a father to her, a miserable mother.

I had determined to remain silent, lest through the fullness of my heart and the violence of my grief I might utter any imprudent word against you, the prince of the priesthood, and be blamed for my insolence and presumption. The violent onset of grief is not unlike madness: it does no homage to princes, pays no respect to allies, it defers to no one and spares no one, not even itself. No one should be surprised, then, if the strength of my grief has roughened my words, for I mourn a public loss even as a private grief has taken root in my innermost spirit. . . . The nations are divided, the peoples torn apart, lands laid waste, and the whole of the Latin Church moved in a spirit of contrition and humility to lament and beseech you, whom God has placed over the peoples and kingdoms in the fullness of power. We hope that the cries of the afflicted will reach your ears, for our troubles are multiplied beyond number (cf. Psalm 39:14). Nor can you plead ignorance of that crime and infamy, since you are the vicar of the crucified, the successor of Peter, the priest of Christ, the chosen one of God, the God even of Pharoah.

. . . If the Roman Church can sit by with clasped hands and silently bear such injuries to Christ, “let God arise” (Psalm 67:1) and judge our cause and “look on the face of Christ (Psalm 83:10).” Where is the zeal of Elias against Ahab? Of John the Baptist against Herod? Of Ambrose against Valentinian? Of Pope Alexander III who, as we saw and heard, solemnly and terribly used the full power of the apostolic see to cut off Frederick [Barbarossa, Holy Roman Emperor], the father of this prince [Henry VI] from the communion of the faithful? In the future such a tyrant will scorn the apostolic keys and hold the law of God to be empty words. Against such an enemy you must firmly take up “the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God (Ephesians 6:17).” For it is written, “He that despises you, despises me (Luke 10:16).” And so, if you do not wish any injury to be done to yourself or to the Roman Church, you cannot pretend not to know of Saint Peter’s shame and Christ’s injury. Do not keep the word of God prisoner in your mouth, lest through your human fear the spirit of liberty be overthrown. It is better to fall into the hands of men than to desert God’s law.

. . . How can you balance the good books of justice, you whom Henry [II] of blessed memory, father of that king [Richard], sustained with much needed aid during that schism, and supported against the hostile tyranny of Frederick [Barbarossa] when he harrassed you and your faithful supporters and threatened the possessions of the Roman Church? When Frederick, instigator of schism and author of resistance to Pope Alexander III who was, as you know, canonically elected, vowed his support for the apostate Octavian [a rival pope]. While the Church was suffering through the upheaval of that schism in every land, the kings of England and France received embassies from each party. And when the French king’s counselors wavered, doubtfully hesitating over which party they should support, King Henry, grieving that Christ’s tunic should be torn in two, was the first to favor Pope Alexander, and he brought the French king over to his side with many admonitions and words of advice; thus he delivered the ship of Saint Peter from shipwreck and brought it to a safe harbor. We witnessed these things with our own eyes. . . . If, therefore, ingratitude could ever efface the memory of such a favor, it would greatly dishonor the glory of the apostolic see.

Questions: What assumptions about gender roles and queenship are expressed in the first letter? Given the tone of the second letter, how might Eleanor have responded to the archbishop’s scolding? How does Eleanor attempt to enlist Pope Celestine III’s help in freeing her son Richard from captivity? In what ways does she assert her own authority here?

39. The Cult of King Arthur

The cleric Geoffrey of Monmouth’s hugely influential History of the Kings of Britain laid the foundation for the elaboration of Arthurian legends by later English writers. A patriotic work of myth-history, the History celebrates the heroic exploits of Arthur, greatest of Britain’s kings. Geoffrey completed his work ca 1136, dedicating it to the earl of Gloucester Robert Fitzroy, whose nephew Henry II came to rule an enormous Angevin “empire,” the parameters of which recalled Arthur’s own. In the second text, Gerald of Wales credits Henry II with inspiring the exhumation of Arthur’s body at Glastonbury Abbey. Ca 1191, at a moment of financial crisis for the abbey, its monks claimed to have discovered the skeletons of a huge man and a woman, along with a lead cross identifying these as Arthur and Guinevere. The monks interred these remains in their church, where they became a very popular and profitable attraction for pilgrims.

Sources: Geoffrey of Monmouth, Histories of the Kings of Britain, trans. Sebastian Evans (London: J.M. Dent & Company, 1904), pp. 226–27, 240, 287–92, revised; Gerald of Wales, De instructione principis, in Geraldi Cambrensis Opera, ed. George F. Werner, trans. K.A. Smith (London: Eyre and Spottiswoode, 1891), vol. 8, pp. 126–29.

[Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Account of Arthur’s Reign]

After the death of Uther Pendragon, the barons of Britain came together from various provinces to the city of Silchester, and suggested to Dubricius, archbishop of the City of Legions, that he should crown as king Arthur, the late king’s son. For they were in dire need, seeing that when the Saxons heard of Uther’s death they had invited their fellow countrymen from Germany, and under their Duke Colgrin were bent upon exterminating the Britons. They had, moreover, entirely subdued that whole part of the island that stretches from the River Humber to the sea of Caithness. Dubricius therefore, sorrowing over the country’s calamities, assembled the other prelates, and invested Arthur with the crown of the realm. At that time Arthur was a youth of fifteen years, of a courage and generosity beyond compare, and his inborn goodness lent such grace that he was loved by nearly all the peoples in the land. After he had been invested with the royal insignia, he abided by his ancient custom, and was so prodigal with his bounty that he began to run short of largesse to distribute among the huge multitude of knights that flocked to him. But he who has a generous nature along with prowess, though he might be poor for a time, will not remain so forever. Thus Arthur, who combined valor with largesse, resolved to harry the Saxons, so that with their treasure he might enrich his own retainers. In this he was supported by his own lawful right, seeing that by right he ought to hold the sovereignty of the whole island by virtue of his hereditary claim. Assembling all his youthful retainers, he made first for the city of York. And when Duke Colgrin became aware of this, he gathered his Saxons, Scots, and Picts, and came with a mighty multitude to meet Arthur near the River Douglas, where, by the battle’s end, the greater part of both armies had been slain. Nevertheless, Arthur won the day, and after pursuing Colgrin in flight as far as York, besieged him within that city. [Arthur rallies his allies against the Saxons, who are defeated and driven from Britain, as are the Picts and Scots. Arthur rules in peace for twelve years.]

At the end of this time he invited to join him all the bravest men from far-off kingdoms and began to enlarge his household retinue, and to hold such courtly gatherings as led to rivalry among distant peoples, since the noblest in every land, eager to vie with him, would hold himself as nothing unless in the cut of his clothes and the manner of his arms he followed the pattern of Arthur’s knights. At last the fame of his bounty and his prowess was on every man’s tongue, even to the furthest ends of the earth, and a fear fell upon foreign kings lest he might attack them with arms and they might lose the nations under their dominion. Grievously tormented by these devouring cares, these kings set about repairing their cities and the towers of their cities, and built themselves strongholds in places fitting for defense, so that in case Arthur should lead an expedition against them they might find refuge there. [Arthur determines “to subdue all of Europe” and conquers Norway and parts of Gaul, but is recalled to Britain by news of his nephew Mordred’s treason.]

With the summer coming on, at which time Arthur planned to march to Rome, he had begun to climb the mountain passes, when a message was brought to him that his nephew Mordred, to whom he had committed the care of Britain, had tyrannously and traitorously set the kingdom’s crown upon his own head, and had joined himself in unhallowed union with Queen Guinevere, in violation of her earlier marriage. . . . Therefore, as soon as the infamy of this crime reached his ears, Arthur immediately put off the expedition he had planned against Lucius, king of the Romans, and sending Hoel, duke of the Armoricans, with the Gaulish army to restore peace in those parts, he hastened back to Britain with only the island kings and their armies. That most detestable traitor Mordred had sent Cheldric, duke of the Saxons, into Germany to enlist any who would join him and hurry back again with them, such as they might be, as quickly as he could cross the sea. He pledged himself, moreover, by covenant to give Cheldric that part of the island that stretches from the River Humber as far as Scotland, and whatever lands Hengist and Horsa had possessed in Kent in the time of Vortigern. Cheldric, accordingly, obeying his injunctions, had landed with eight hundred ships full of armed pagans, and doing homage to this traitor acknowledged him as his liege lord and king. He had likewise gathered into his company the Scots, Picts and Irish, and anyone else that he knew hated his uncle. All told, they numbered some 800,000 pagans and Christians, and in their company and relying on their assistance he came to meet Arthur on his arrival at Richborough Haven, and in the battle that ensued inflicted terrible slaughter on his men when they had landed. For upon that day Angusel, king of Albany, and Gawain, the king’s nephew, fell in battle along with countless others. Eventus, son of Urian his brother, succeeded Angusel in the kingdom, and afterward won great renown for his prowess in those wars. At last, when with great effort they had gained possession of the coast, they avenged themselves on Mordred for this slaughter, and drove him fleeing before them. . . . The perjurer Mordred, however, again collected his men together from all parts, and on the following night marched into Winchester. When this was reported to Queen Guinevere, she was stricken with despair and fled from York to Caerleon, where she planned henceforth to lead a chaste life among the nuns, and took the veil of their order in the church of Julius the Martyr.

But Arthur, burning with still hotter wrath for the loss of so many hundreds of comrades-in-arms, after first giving Christian burial to the slain, on the third day marched on that city and besieged the miscreant who had ensconced himself inside. Still, Mordred was not minded to renounce his plan, but encouraging his adherents by every means he could, marched forth with his troops and arrayed them to meet his uncle. At the beginning of the battle there was extremely great slaughter on both sides, which at last grew heavier on his side and compelled him to abandon the field shamefully. . . . There still remained to him out of the number of allies I have mentioned sixty thousand men, and these he divided into three battalions, in each of which were 6,666 men-at-arms. . . . Against them Arthur also marshaled his army, which he divided into nine battalions of infantry formed in a square with a right and left wing, and having appointed captains to each, exhorted them to completely destroy these perjurers and thieves, brought from foreign lands into the island at the bidding of a traitor, who were minded to rob them of their holdings and their honors. He told them, moreover, that these motley barbarians from various kingdoms were a pack of raw recruits that knew nothing of the practice of war, and were unable to stand against valiant men like themselves, who were seasoned in so many battles, if they fell upon them hardily and fought manfully. And while the two commanders were still exhorting their men on the one side and the other, the battalions made a sudden rush at each other and began the battle, struggling as if to test which should deal their blows more quickly. At the start, there was such havoc wreaked on both sides, such groaning of the dying, such fury, as would be grievous and burdensome to describe. Everywhere were wounders and wounded, slayers and slain. And after much of the day had been spent in this way, Arthur, with one battalion wherein were 6,666 men, at last charged the company where he knew Mordred was, and hewing a path with their swords, cut clean through it and inflicted a most terrible slaughter. For there fell that accursed traitor and many thousands along with him. . . . Even the renowned King Arthur himself was mortally wounded, and was taken from there to the island of Avalon for his wounds to be healed. There he gave up the crown of Britain to his kinsman, Constantine, son of Cador, duke of Cornwall, in the year of the Incarnation of Our Lord 542.

[Gerald of Wales on the Rediscovery of Arthur’s Tomb at Glastonbury]

We must not suppress the memory of Arthur, the renowned king of the Britons, who was the patron of the distinguished monastery of Glastonbury, who was in his time an especially magnificent patron and promoter, and whom many histories celebrate. For he loved the church of the Virgin Mary at Glastonbury more than all the rest of the churches in his kingdom, and promoted it above the others with great devotion. . . .

Arthur’s body, which tradition claims was almost fantastically tall and invulnerable to death, was carried a long way off as if by means of the spirit, and was discovered in our time at Glastonbury. It was found between two pyramids which formerly stood in the monks’ holy cemetery, concealed deeply in the earth under a hollow oak tree, its presence announced by means of wonderful and almost miraculous signs, and then translated to the church and fittingly and with great honor laid in a marble tomb. And a leaden cross was placed below the tomb, not above it as is done in our time, but rather affixed lower down. We have also seen and touched its letters (which are carved into the stone rather than standing out or projecting forth), which read: “Here in the island of Avalon lies buried the renowned King Arthur with Guinevere, his second wife.”

Many noteworthy things have, however, happened here; for he had had two wives, of which the last one was buried with him at the same time, and the bones of that woman were discovered at the same time along with those of the man, but they were nevertheless distinct from one another. . . . Evidence about the body was discovered by the monks among their writings, as well as from the letters carved upon the pyramids (though these were very much effaced by their great age), and through the visions and revelations of good and pious men, but most evidently from King Henry II of England, who revealed to the monks that, as he had heard from a singer of ancient British history, they would discover the body deep in the earth, at a depth of at least sixteen feet, not in a stone tomb but in a hollow oak tree. After [Arthur’s] death, his body was buried so deeply so that it could not be found by the Saxons then occupying the island, a people he had fought with such a great effort and nearly destroyed while he lived. For all this is declared by the letters engraved inside the cross affixed to the stone tomb, so that its contents might be hidden in that time and later in our time be made known in that place. . . .

It should be known that the bones of Arthur’s body were found to be so large that in that place these words of the poet seemed to be fulfilled: “He will wonder at huge bones in the opened grave (Virgil, Georgics, 1.497).” For, as the abbot showed us, that man’s shin-bone, when placed beside the leg of the tallest man there, and affixed in the earth next to his foot, extended past his knee by a length of three fingers. The skull was so large and wide that it was almost a marvel or wonder, since the spaces between the eyes and eyebrows were as wide as the palm of a hand. On the skull were to be seen ten wounds or more, which came together in a solid scar. One of these was greater than the rest; it had left a great cleft in the bone and it alone would seem to have been fatal.

Questions: What qualities does Geoffrey of Monmouth admire in Arthur? What might we infer from Geoffrey about twelfth-century models of kingship? Given the great popularity in Wales of legends promising Arthur’s return from Avalon, what is the significance of the discovery of the king’s body at Glastonbury? Why would the monks of Glastonbury wish to promote these relics?

40. Town Charters

Perhaps nothing had as wide-ranging an influence on twelfth-century society and culture as the growth of towns and cities, the result of a booming economy and growing population. One aspect of this was the granting of charters that guaranteed specific rights and freedoms to urban populations. Charters were granted by the king or by a lord who had rights over the town; the latter could be either a noble or a bishop.

Source: charter of Henry I, trans. W.d.G. Birch, The Historical Charters and Constitutional Documents of the City of London (London: Whiting & Company, 1884), pp. 3–4, revised; charters of Henry II and Thurstan, trans. E.P. Cheyney, Translations and Reprints from the Original Sources of European History, 1st ser. (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Department of History, 1896), vol. 2, no. 1, pp. 7–11, revised.

Henry I to London [early twelfth century]

Henry, by the grace of God, king of England, to the archbishop of Canterbury, and to the bishops and abbots, earls and barons, justices and sheriffs, and to all his faithful subjects of England, French and English, greeting.

Know that I have granted to my citizens of London, to hold [the shire of] Middlesex to farm [to take the profits and pay the king a set annual income] for £300 upon account, to them and their heirs, so that the said citizens shall appoint as sheriff whomever they wish for themselves; and shall appoint whomever, or one of themselves if they wish, for hearing the pleas of the crown, and the pleadings of the same, and none other shall be justice over the same men of London; and the citizens of London shall not plead outside the walls of London for any plea [in any legal case]. And they shall be free from scot and lot and danegeld [all customary royal taxes], and of all murder [fines]; and none of them shall [have to] wage battle. And if any one of the citizens shall be impleaded [taken to court] concerning the pleas of the crown, the man of London shall discharge himself by his oath, which shall be adjudged within the city. And no one shall lodge within the walls, neither people of my household, nor any other, and no lodging shall be taken by force.

And all the men of London and all their goods shall be acquitted and free, throughout England, and the ports of the sea, of and from all toll and passage and lestage [charges for goods put on a ship], also all other customs charges; and the churches and barons and citizens [of London] shall and may peaceably and quietly have and hold their sokes [jurisdictions] with all their customs, so that the strangers that shall be lodged in the sokes shall give custom to none but to him to whom the soke belongs, or to his officer, whom he shall put there. And a man of London shall not be adjudged in amercements [fines] of more than 100s. (I speak of the pleas which appertain to money); and further there shall be no more [penalties for] miskenning [procedural errors] in the hustings [London’s civil court], nor in the folkmote [an assembly], nor in other pleas within the city; and the hustings may sit once in a week, that is to say, on Monday. And I will cause my citizens to have their lands, promises, bonds, and debts, within the city and outside it; and I will do them right by the law of the city, concerning the lands of which they shall complain to me.

And if anyone shall take toll or custom from any citizen of London, the citizens of London in the city shall take from the borough or town, where toll or custom was so taken, as much as the man of London gave for toll, and as he received damage thereby. And all debtors who owe debts to the citizens of London shall pay them in London, or else discharge themselves in London, that they owe none; but if they will not pay the same, nor come to clear themselves that they owe none, the citizens of London, to whom the debts shall be due, may take their goods in the city of London, from the borough or town, or from the county where the debtor remains. And all citizens of London may have their chases [hunting land] to hunt, as well and fully as their ancestors have had, that is to say, in Chiltre, and in Middlesex and Surrey.

Witness the bishop of Winchester, and Robert son of Richier, and Hugh Bigod, and Alured of Toteneys, and William of Alba Spina and Hubert, the king’s chamberlain, and William de Montfichet, and Hangulf de Taney, and John Bellet, and Robert son of Siward. At Westminster.

Archbishop Thurstan of York to Beverly [before 1140]

Thurstan, by the grace of God, archbishop of York, to all the faithful in Christ, both present and to come, greeting and God’s benediction and his own. Let it be known to you that I have given and conceded, and by the advice of the chapter of York and of Beverly and by the advice of my barons I have confirmed by my charter to the men of Beverly all their liberties with the same laws which the men of York have in their city. Moreover, let it not be hidden from you that lord Henry [I] our king has conceded to us the power of doing this of his own good will, and by his charter has confirmed our statutes and our laws according to the form of the laws of the burgesses of York, saving the dignity and honor of God and Saint John, and of us and of the canons, in order that he might thus increase the benefactions of his predecessors, and promote them by all these free customs.

I will that my burgesses of Beverly shall have their guildhall, which I give to them and concede in order that they may there determine upon their statutes to the honor of God and of Saint John and of the canons [the priests of Beverly Minster], and to the advantage of the whole body of citizens, being enfranchised by the same law as the men of York in their hanse house [the building where the York merchants met]. I give up to them, moreover, their toll forever for [a payment of] 18 marks a year; except in those feasts in which toll belongs to us and to the canons, that is to say, in the feast of Saint John the Confessor, on [6] May, in the feast of the translation of Saint John [of Beverly, on 25 October], and on the day of the birth of Saint John the Baptist [24 June]; and on these festivals I have made all the burgesses of Beverly free and released from all toll. By the testimony of this charter, moreover, I have conceded to the same burgesses as free entrance and departure within and outside the town, in plain and wood and marsh, in roads and byways, and in other suitable places, except in meadows and grainfields, as anyone can ever concede and confirm them most freely and broadly; and know that they are as free and released from all toll through the whole of Yorkshire, as the men of York are. And I will that whosoever opposes this may be accursed, as the custom of the church of Saint John [of Beverly] asserts and as it has been decreed in the church of Saint John.

These are witness: Geoffrey Murdoc, Nigel Fossard, Alan de Percy, Walter Spec, Eustace son of John, Thomas the reeve, Thurstan the archdeacon, Herbert the chamberlain, William son of Toole, and William of Bath, in the presence of the whole household of the archbishop, clerical and lay, in York.

Questions: What rights and freedoms do the townspeople want? Why? What do we learn about life in the towns? What economic ideas are evident in the charters? Why did the lords grant these privileges?

41. William fitzStephen’s Description of London

In his biography of his master Thomas Becket, the clerk William fitzStephen included a famous description of the saint’s birthplace, London. While fitzStephen is clearly concerned to show off his learning (note the many quotes, most from classical authors such as Virgil, with which he peppers his prose), he also gives us a rare eyewitness view of a twelfth-century city. When fitzStephen wrote (ca 1180), London was a bustling hub of commercial activity and royal administration with a population of perhaps 20,000 (quite large by contemporary standards).

Source: trans. H.E. Butler, Norman London: An Essay, by F.M. Stenton (London: The Historical Association, 1934), pp. 26–32; revised.

Among the noble cities of the world that are celebrated by fame, the city of London, seat of the monarchy of England, is one that spreads its fame wider, sends its wealth and wares further, and lifts its head higher than all others. It is blessed in the wholesomeness of its air, in its reverence for the Christian faith, in the strength of its bulwarks, the nature of its situation, the honor of its citizens, and the chastity of its matrons. It is likewise most merry in its sports and fruitful of noble men. Of these things it is my pleasure to treat, each in its own place. . . .

In the church of Saint Paul is the episcopal see. Once it was the metropolitan [the seat of an archbishop], and it is thought that it will be so again, if the citizens return to the island, unless perchance the archiepiscopal title of the blessed martyr Thomas and the presence of his body preserve that honor for all time at Canterbury, where it now resides. . . . Also, as concerns Christian worship, there are both in London and the suburbs thirteen greater conventual churches, and 126 lesser parochial ones.

On the east stands the palatine citadel [the Tower of London], exceedingly great and strong, whose walls and bailey rise from very deep foundations, their mortar being mixed with the blood of beasts. On the west are two strongly fortified castles, while thence there runs continuously a great wall and high, with seven double gates, and with towers along the north at intervals. On the south, London was once walled and towered in like fashion, but the Thames, that mighty river, teeming with fish, which runs on that side with the sea’s ebb and flow, has in course of time washed away those bulwarks, undermined and cast them down. Also upstream to the west the royal palace rises high above the river, a building beyond compare, with an outwork and bastions, two miles from the city and joined to it by a populous suburb.

On all sides, beyond the houses, lie the gardens of the citizens that dwell in the suburbs, planted with trees, spacious and fair, adjoining one another.

On the north are pasture lands and a pleasant space of flat meadows, intersected by running waters, which turn revolving mill-wheels with merry din. Hard by there stretches a great forest with wooded glades and lairs of wild beasts, deer both red and fallow, wild boars and bulls. . . .

This city wins honor by its men and glory by its arms and has a multitude of inhabitants, so that at the time of the calamitous wars of King Stephen’s reign the men going forth from it to be mustered were reckoned 20,000 armed horsemen and 60,000 footsoldiers. The citizens of London are everywhere regarded as illustrious and renowned beyond those of all other cities for the elegance of their fine manner, raiment, and table. . . .

In London the three principal churches, to wit the episcopal see of the church of Saint Paul, the church of the Holy Trinity, and the church of Saint Martin, have famous schools by privilege and in virtue of their ancient dignity. But through the personal favor of some one or more of those learned men who are known and eminent in the study of philosophy there are other schools licensed by special grace and permission. On holy days the masters of the schools assemble their scholars at the churches whose feast day it is. The scholars dispute, some in demonstrative rhetoric, others in dialectic. . . . Boys of different schools strive one against another in verse or contend concerning the principles of the art of grammar or the rules governing the use of past or future tenses. There are others who employ the old wit of the cross-roads in epigrams, rhymes and meter; with “Fescennine License” [bawdy verses], they lacerate their comrades outspokenly, though mentioning no names; they hurl “abuse and gibes” they touch the foibles of their comrades, perchance even of their elders with Socratic wit. . . .

Those that ply their several trades, the sellers of every thing, those who hire out their labor are found every morning each in their separate quarters and each engaged upon his own particular task. Moreover there is in London upon the river’s bank, amid the wine that is sold from ships and winecellars, a public cook-shop. There daily, according to the season, you may find viands, dishes roasted, fried and boiled, fish great and small, the coarser flesh for the poor, the more delicate for the rich, such as venison and birds both big and little. If friends, weary with travel, should of a sudden come to any of the citizens, and it is not their pleasure to wait fasting till fresh food is bought and cooked and “till servants bring water for hands and bread,” they hasten to the riverbank, where all desirable things are ready at hand. . . .

In the suburb immediately outside one of the gates there is a smooth field, both in fact and in name [later known as Smithfield]. On every sixth day of the week, unless it be a major feast day on which solemn rites are prescribed, there is a much frequented show of fine horses for sale. All the earls, barons and knights who are in the city come there, along with many of the citizens, whether to look on or buy. It is a joy to see the ambling palfreys, their skin full of juice, their coats glistening, as they pace softly, alternately raising and putting down the feet on one side together; next to see the horses that best befit esquires, moving more roughly, yet nimbly, as they raise and set down the opposite feet, fore and hind, first on one side and then on the other; then the younger colts of high breeding, unbroken and “high-stepping with elastic tread,” and after them the costly destriers [war-horses] of graceful form and goodly stature, “with quivering ears, high necks and plump buttocks.” . . .

In another place apart stand the wares of country-folk, instruments of agriculture, long-flanked swine, cows with swollen udders, and “woolly flocks and bodies huge of kine.” Mares stand there, well-suited for plows, sledges and two-horsed carts; the bellies of some are big with young; around others move their offspring, new-born, sprightly foals, their inseparable followers.

To this city, from every nation that is under heaven, merchants rejoice to bring their trade in ships.

Gold from Arabia, from Sabaea spice

And incense; from the Scythians arms of steel

Well-tempered; oil from the rich groves of palm

That spring from the fat lands of Babylon;

Fine gems from the Nile, from China crimson silks;

French wines; and sable, vair and miniver

From the far lands where Russ and Norseman dwell.

London, as the chroniclers have shown, is far older than Rome. For, owing its birth to the same Trojan ancestors, it was founded by Brutus before Rome was founded by Romulus and Remus. Wherefore they both still use the ancient laws and like institutions. London, like Rome, is divided into wards. In place of consuls it has sheriffs every year; its senatorial order and lesser magistrates; sewers and conduits in its streets, and for the pleading of diverse causes, demonstrative, deliberative, and judicial, it has its proper places, its separate courts. It has also its assemblies on appointed days. I do not think there is any city deserving of greater approval for its custom in respect of church-going, honor paid to the ordinances of God, keeping of feast days, giving of alms, entertainment of strangers, ratifying of betrothals, contracts of marriage, celebration of nuptials, furnishing of banquets, cheering of guests, and likewise for their care in regard to the rites of funeral and the burial of the dead. The only plagues of London are the immoderate drinking of fools and the frequency of fires. . . .

Furthermore, let us consider also the sports of the city, since it is not fitting that a city should only be useful and sober, unless it also be pleasant and merry. . . .

London in place of shows in the theatre and stage-plays has holier plays wherein are shown forth the miracles wrought by holy confessors or the sufferings which glorified the constancy of martyrs.

Moreover, each year upon the day called Carnival—to begin with the sports of boys (for we were all boys once)—boys from the schools bring fighting-cocks to their masters, and the whole morning is given up to boyish sport; for they have a holiday in the schools so that they may watch their cocks do battle. After dinner all the youth of the city goes out into the fields to a much-frequented game of ball. The scholars of each school have their own ball, and almost all the workers of each trade have theirs also in their hands. Elder men and fathers and rich citizens come on horseback to watch the contests of their juniors, and after their fashion are young again with the young. . . .

Every Sunday in Lent after dinner a “fresh swarm of young gentles” goes forth on war-horses, “steeds skilled in the contest,” of which each is “apt and schooled to wheel in circles round.” From the gates burst forth in throngs the lay sons of citizens, armed with lance and shield, the younger with shafts forked at the end, but with steel point removed. “They wake war’s semblance” and in play exercise their skill at arms. . . .

At the feast of Easter they make sport with naval tournaments, as it were. For a shield being strongly bound to a stout pole in midstream, a small vessel, swiftly driven on by many an oar and by the river’s flow, carries a youth standing at the prow, who is to strike the shield with his lance. If he break the lance by striking the shield and keep his feet unshaken, he has achieved his purpose and fulfilled his desire. If, however, he strike it strongly without splintering his lance, he is thrown into the rushing river, and the boat of its own speed passes him by. . . . On the bridge and the galleries above the river are spectators of the sport “ready to laugh their fill.”

On feast days throughout the summer the youths exercise themselves in leaping, archery and wrestling, putting the stone, and throwing the thonged javelin beyond a mark, and fighting with sword and buckler. . . .

In winter on almost every feast-day before dinner either foaming boars and hogs, armed with “tusks lightning-swift,” themselves soon to be bacon, fight for their lives, or else fat bulls with butting horns, or huge bears, do combat to the death against hounds loosed upon them.

When the great marsh that washes the northern walls of the city is frozen, dense throngs of youths go forth to disport themselves upon the ice. Some, gathering speed by a run, glide sidelong, with feet set well apart, over a vast space of ice. Others make themselves seats of ice like millstones and are dragged along by a number who run before them holding hands. Sometimes they slip owing to the greatness of their speed and fall, every one of them, upon their faces. Others there are, more skilled to sport upon the ice, who fit to their feet the shinbones of beasts, lashing them beneath their ankles, and with iron-shod poles in their hands they strike occasionally against the ice and are borne along swift as a bird in flight or a bolt shot from a mangonel. . . .

Questions: How might fitzStephen’s purpose in writing have colored his presentation of the city? What do we learn about London’s topography, economy, and daily life in the city? Which urban features does the author find particularly impressive?

42. Thomas of Monmouth’s Life of Saint William of Norwich

By the mid-twelfth century, Jewish communities could be found in most larger English towns. In towns such as Norwich, where a Jewish community was in residence by 1135, the Jews often drew the resentment of local Christians because they were subject only to the crown and its representatives, and thus independent of local governments. The story excerpted here, based on events in 1144 and recorded shortly afterward by a local monk, is an early example of the myth of Jews ritually slaughtering Christian children; in later years many towns developed their own child martyr stories in imitation of this one. There is no factual basis for this Christian myth, but the story is significant for what it tells us about Christian attitudes toward Jews and for its incidental details about urban life.

Source: trans. A. Jessopp and M.R. James, The Life and Miracles of St William of Norwich (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1896), pp. 10, 12–23, 35–37, 41–48; revised.

Book I

1. . . . The mercy of the divine goodness desiring to display itself to the parts near Norwich, or rather to the whole of England, and to give it in these new times a new patron, granted that a boy should be conceived in his mother’s womb without her knowing that he was to be numbered among illustrious martyrs and worthy to be honored among all the army of the saints, and moreover brought it about that he should grow up little by little as a fragrant rose from the thorns.

His father was a certain Wenstan by name. His mother was called Elviva, and they passed their lives as honest people in the country, being somewhat well supplied with the necessaries of life and something more. Let it not seem absurd to anyone that a boy of such sanctity and destined for such honor should by God’s will be born from lowly parents, when it is certain that he himself was pleased to be born from among the poor. . . .

2. Concerning his birth and infancy.

Some time having elapsed and the day having arrived for his bringing forth, a son was born to the woman, and his name was called William. But he was born on the day of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary, that is on Candlemas [2 February]. Perhaps, too, by this is indicated how great the purity and sanctity of the child would be, and that he would greatly love candles and their brightness. . . .

The mother, as she loved her child exceedingly, so did she educate him with exceeding care, and by carefully educating him she brought him up from his infancy to the years of intelligent boyhood. When he was but seven years old—as I learnt from the mother’s narrative—he became so devoted to abstinence that, though his elder brothers did not fast, he himself fasted on three days of the week—to wit the second, fourth and sixth days—and also celebrated the vigils of the apostles and of other saints that were announced to the people by devout fasting. And as his zeal increased, he used to pass many days content with nothing but bread and water. His whole inner man overflowing with piety, whatever he could save from his own portion of food or extort from his mother by his entreaties, he used to bestow upon the poor, sometimes openly and sometimes secretly. . . . He was a most joyful attendant at church; he used to learn his letters and the psalms and prayers, and all the things of God he treated with the greatest reverence. . . .

3. How he was accustomed to resort to the Jews, and having been rebuked by his own people for doing so, withdrew himself from them.

When, therefore, he was flourishing in blessed boyhood, and had reached his eighth year, he was entrusted to the skinners to be taught their craft. Gifted with a teachable disposition and bringing industry to bear upon it, in a short time he far surpassed lads of his own age in the aforesaid craft, and he equaled some who had been his teachers. So leaving the country, by the drawing of a divine attraction he went to the city and lodged with a very famous master of that craft, and some time passed away. He was seldom in the country, but was occupied in the city and sedulously gave himself to the practice of his craft, and thus reached his twelfth year.

Now, while he was staying in Norwich, the Jews who were settled there and required their cloaks or their robes or other garments (whether pledged to them, or their own property) to be repaired, preferred him before all other skinners. For they esteemed him to be especially fit for their work, either because they had learned that he was guileless and skilful, or because, attracted to him by their avarice, they thought they could bargain with him for a lower price. Or, as I rather believe, because by the ordering of divine providence he had been predestined to martyrdom from the beginning of time, and gradually, step by step, was drawn on, and chosen to be made a mockery of and to be put to death by the Jews, in scorn of the Lord’s passion. . . . For I have learned from certain Jews, who were afterward converted to the Christian faith, how at that time they had planned to do this very thing with some Christian, and in order to carry out their malignant purpose, at the beginning of Lent they had chosen the boy William, being twelve years of age and a boy of unusual innocence. So it came to pass that when the holy boy, ignorant of the treachery that had been planned, had frequent dealings with the Jews, he was taken to task by Godwin the priest, who was married to the boy’s aunt, and by a certain Wulward with whom he lodged, and he was prohibited from going among them any more. But the Jews, annoyed at the thwarting of their designs, tried with all their might to patch up a new scheme of wickedness. . . . Accordingly, collecting all the cunning of their crafty plots, they found a man—I am not sure whether he was a Christian or a Jew—who was a most treacherous fellow and just the right person to carry out their execrable crime, and with all haste—for their Passover was coming on in three days—they sent him to find and bring back with him the victim who, as I said before, had slipped out of their hands.

4. How he was seduced by the Jews’ messenger.

At dawn on the Monday after Palm Sunday, that detestable messenger of the Jews set out to execute the business that was committed to him, and at last he found the boy William, after searching for him with very great care. When he was found, he deceived him with cunning wordy tricks and lying promises. For he pretended that he was the cook of William, archdeacon of Norwich, and that he wished to have him as a helper in the kitchen, where if he should continue steadily with him, he would receive many advantages from his situation. The simple boy was deceived, and trusted himself to the man; but, wishing to have his mother’s favorable consent—for his father had died by this time—he started off with the fellow to find her. When they had come to where she was, the boy told her the cause of his errand, and the traitor, according to the tenor of his previous offer, cast the net of his treachery. So by many promises that son of perdition easily prevailed upon the boy’s mind with his tempting offer. Yet at first he could not at all gain the mother’s consent; but when the scoundrel persisted, the innocent boy agreed though his mother, moved by presentiment, resisted, and in her motherly affection [felt] some fear for her son. . . .

So the traitor took three shillings from his purse with the intention of getting the better of the mother’s fancy and bending the fickle stubbornness of a fickle woman, seduced by the glitter of money to the lust of gain. Thus the money was offered as the price of the innocent’s service, or rather in truth as the price of his blood. . . . So the mother’s mind was cruelly vanquished by [the coins], even though the maternal affection only slowly gave way under the temptation and, seduced at last by the shining pieces of silver, she was the victim of her covetousness, . . . and the boy William was given up to the betrayer.

5. How on his going to the Jews he was taken, mocked, and slain.

In the morning, accordingly, that traitor, the imitator in almost everything of the traitor Judas, returned to Norwich with the boy, and as he was passing by the house of the boy’s aunt he went in with him and said that the mother had entrusted the boy to himself, and then he went out again hastily. But the boy’s aunt said quickly to her daughter, “Follow them at once, and take care to find out where that man is leading the boy.” Thus the girl ran out to explore the way they were going. She followed them at a distance as they turned about through some private alleys, and at last she saw them entering cautiously into the house of a certain Jew, and immediately after she heard the door shut. When she saw this, she went back to her mother and told her what she had seen.

Then the boy, like an innocent lamb, was led to the slaughter. He was treated kindly by the Jews at first, and, ignorant of what was being prepared for him, he was kept till the morrow. But on the next day, which in that year was their Passover, after the singing of the hymns appointed for the day in the synagogue, the chief men of the Jews assembled in the house of the aforesaid Jew suddenly seized of the boy William as he was having his dinner, fearing no treachery, and ill-treated him in various horrible ways. [There follows a detailed description of the tortures the Jews inflict on William, culminating in a crucifixion meant to replicate the final suffering of Christ.]

Thus then the glorious boy and martyr of Christ, William, dying the death of time in reproach of the Lord’s death, but crowned with the blood of a glorious martyrdom, entered into the kingdom of glory on high to live forever. His soul rejoices blissfully in heaven among the bright hosts of the saints, and his body by the omnipotence of the divine mercy works miracles upon earth. [The murderers then dumped William’s body in the woods on Good Friday and bribed the sheriff to keep their secret, but the body was found with miraculous assistance. The finders did not immediately bury it.]

12. How he was buried in the wood.

So the business of burying him was put off. But in the meantime, by one man after another telling others their several versions of the story, the rumor spread in all directions, and when it reached the city it struck the hearts of all who heard it with exceeding horror. The city was stirred with a strange excitement, and the streets were crowded with people making a disturbance. . . . A divine impulse drawing them on, they rushed in crowds to the wood to see the sight. What they sought they found, and, when they detected the marks of the torture in the body, and carefully examined the method of the act, some suspected that the Jews were not guiltless of the deed; but some, led on by what was really a divine discernment, protested that it was so. . . .

And so the earnestness of their devout fervor was urging all to destroy the Jews, and they would there and then have laid hands upon them, but, restrained by fear of the sheriff John they kept quiet for awhile. . . .

But this fact I think ought to be mentioned, that while the body was being carried by the hands of those who were going to bury it, suddenly such a fragrant perfume filled the nostrils of the bystanders as if there had been growing there a great mass of sweet-smelling herbs and flowers. . . .

15. Concerning the lamentations of his mother.

Just at this time as the report was spreading, the story of her son’s murder reached the ears of his mother who, naturally overwhelmed by the sad tidings, straightway swooned away as if she were dead. Recovering herself after a while, however, without delay she hastened to Norwich to enquire into the truth of the matter. But when she learned by the relation of many people that her son was dead and was buried in the wood, with torn hair and clapping of hands she immediately ran from one to another, weeping and wailing through the streets like a mad woman. At last, going to the house of her sister whom I mentioned before and enquiring first of the priest Godwin, then of her sister, she could learn no more about the circumstances and the truth than that he had been slain in an extraordinary way. But from many probable indications and conclusions, she was convinced that they were not Christians but Jews who had dared to do the deed. . . . [S]he went through the streets and open places and, carried along by her motherly distress, she kept calling upon everybody with dreadful screams, protesting that the Jews had seduced and stolen away her son from her and killed him. This conduct very greatly worked upon the minds of the populace to accept the truth, and so everybody began to cry out with one voice that all the Jews ought to be utterly destroyed as constant enemies of the Christian name and the Christian religion.

16. How the priest Godwin accused the Jews and offered to prove by ordeal that they were guilty of the death of the boy William.

When some days had passed, the day for holding the synod drew near, and according to custom Bishop Eborard presided. The sermon having been preached, the aforesaid priest Godwin rose, saying that he was about to bring to the ears of the bishop and his brother priests a distressing complaint and one which had not been heard of in the present time. Wherefore, silence having been enjoined upon all, he began in the following manner:

“Very Reverend Lord and Father and Bishop—By that goodness of yours which has up to now been so well known, and which I trust may continue to be so esteemed for all time, I beg you to incline your ears graciously to the words of our complaint. . . . Truly I have come forward to plead not so much a private or domestic cause as to make known to you an outrage which has been done to the whole Christian community. Indeed, I think it is not unknown to your fathership, very reverend prelate, nor do I think it is a secret to most of you, my dear brethren, that a certain boy—a very little boy, and a harmless innocent too—was treated in the most horrible manner in Passion Week, was found in a wood, and up to this time has been without Christian burial. He was, indeed, a cousin of my own children, and because of the tie of kindred which united us he was very dear to me. Wherefore, when I lay my complaint about his death before you all, I can hardly restrain my eyes from weeping. To begin with, I hold all Christians excused as guiltless from any complicity in so execrable a murder. But in the second place, I accuse the Jews, the enemies of the Christian name, as the doers of this deed and the shedders of innocent blood. Thirdly, I am ready to prove the truth of my words at such time and place and by such proof as is allowed me by Christian law. . . .”

Accordingly, while all were amazed and disturbed at what had occurred, the prelate, very much moved at the atrocity of the deed, and actuated by his zeal for justice, replied as follows:

“Since what you affirm to be certain is so far clearly uncertain to us, we shall at any rate take care to arrive at a certain knowledge of this business. And if, indeed, it shall be established to be as you maintain, be assured that the rigor of our justice shall in no way be found wanting. But since it is not seemly that a just judge should pronounce upon those who are absent and unheard, let the Jews be summoned and have a hearing tomorrow. Then, if they be convicted, let them receive the punishment they deserve.”

Thus this business was put off till the next day, and . . . all dispersed, intending to return next morning. But by order of the bishop the dean of Norwich on the same day summoned the Jews to appear, and ordered them to attend to answer on the morrow before the synod regarding so important a matter.

The Jews were greatly disturbed and ran to the sheriff, John, as their only refuge, seeking help and counsel in so difficult a cause, since by trusting to his patronage they had often escaped many dangers. So John, having taken counsel and being one who was not ignorant of the truth, did not allow the Jews to come to the synod on the morrow, and indeed he gave notice by his servants to the bishop that he had nothing to do with the Jews, and that in the absence of the king the Jews should make no answer to such inventions of the Christians. . . .

Accordingly, it was determined by common consent that notice should be given to John that he should not protect the Jews against God, and to the Jews that peremptory sentence would be passed upon them, and that unless they at once came to purge themselves they must understand that without doubt they would be exterminated.

Of course John, moved by these words, came without delay, and the Jews with him. . . . By the advice of the sheriff, the Jews denied the charge brought against them; but as to the ordeal proposed, they asked for some small delay for deliberating. . . . After seeking some way of compromise, with a great deal of discussion, and after dealing with each alternative on its merits, they found no safe escape out of so great a difficulty except by obtaining some truce and delay. If they could obtain that, they hoped they could easily extort from the king the favor which might be bought for money, of getting a chance of arguing their case, and so utterly put an end to the rumor of the crime laid to their charge.

When the greatest part of the day had been spent in this kind of disputing, at last they sent to the bishop asking that a respite of some sort be granted to them. That being peremptorily denied them, the sheriff and the Jews, without asking for leave to depart as is the usual custom, went their way. But because it was not safe for them to remain outside, the sheriff protected them within the defenses of the castle until, their security having been assured to them by a royal edict, they might be safe for the future and out of harm’s way. . . .

Questions: What elements of Christian attitudes toward Jews can be distinguished here? Why were the Jews vulnerable to such charges? How are the various authorities portrayed? What was the sheriff’s role? How are William’s relatives depicted?

43. Reginald of Durham’s Life of Saint Godric, Hermit of Finchale

Medieval hagiographies, or saints’ lives, share similarities across the genre, and many of these standard elements are present in the lives of Edward the Confessor, Thomas Becket, and William of Norwich (docs. 18, 35, and 42). But the biography of Godric of Finchale (ca 1065–1170), written by his close associate, the monk Reginald of Durham, recounts a life rather different from that of the typical medieval saint, and does so in an unusual way, being full of circumstantial and lively detail about Godric’s life as a merchant before his religious conversion.

Source: trans. G.G. Coulton, Social Life in Britain from the Conquest to the Reformation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1918), pp. 415–20.

This holy man’s father was named Ailward, and his mother Edwenna; both of slight rank and wealth, but abundant in righteousness and virtue. They were born in Norfolk, and had long lived in the township called Walpole. . . . After the boy had passed his childish years quietly at home, then, as he grew to manhood, he began to follow more prudent ways of life, and to learn carefully and persistently the teachings of worldly forethought. Thus he chose not to follow the life of a farmer, but rather to study, learn, and exercise the rudiments of more subtle conceptions. For this reason, aspiring to the merchant’s trade, he began to follow the chapman’s way of life, first learning how to gain in small bargains and things of insignificant price; then, while yet a youth, his mind advanced little by little to buy and sell and gain from things of greater expense. For, in his beginnings, he was accustomed to wander with small wares around the villages and farmsteads of his own neighborhood; but over time he gradually associated himself by compact with city merchants. Hence, within a brief period, the youth who had trudged for many weary hours from village to village, from farm to farm, so profited by his increased age and wisdom as to travel with associates of his own age through towns and boroughs, fortresses, and cities, to fairs and to all the various booths of the marketplace, in pursuit of public bargaining. . . .

As he then dwelled by the seashore, he went down one day to the strand to seek some means of livelihood. . . . The place is called Wellstream, hard by the town of Spalding; there, when the tide was out, the country folk used to scour and explore the stretches of sand, discovering and converting to their own use whatever wreckage or flotsam the sea might have brought to shore; in this way they sometimes get wealth, since they are free to carry off whatsoever goods or commodities they find by the shore. The saint, then, inspired by such hopes, roamed one day over these stretches of shore; and, finding nothing at first, he followed on and on to a distance of three miles, where he found three porpoises lying high and dry, either cast upon the sands by the waves or left there by the ebb tide. Two were still alive and struggling: the third, in the midst, was dead or dying. Moved with pity, he left the living untouched, cut a portion from the dead fish, and began carrying this away upon his back. But the tide soon began to flow; and Godric, halting under his burden, was overtaken by the waves. First they wet his feet, then his legs, then his upper body . . . [until] at length, the waters even covered his head, yet Godric, strong in faith, bore his burden onward even under the waves, until, by God’s help, he struggled out upon the very shore from which he had gone forth. Then, bringing the fish to his parents, he told them the whole tale, and exhorted them to declare the glory of God.

Yet in all things he walked with simplicity; so far as he yet knew how, it was ever his pleasure to follow in the footsteps of the truth. For, having learned the Lord’s Prayer and the Creed from his very cradle, he often turned them over in his mind, even as he went alone on his longer journeys; and, in so far as the truth was revealed to his mind, he clung to it most devoutly in all his thoughts concerning God. At first, he lived as a chapman for four years in Lincolnshire, going on foot and carrying the smallest wares; then he traveled abroad, first to Saint Andrews in Scotland and then for the first time to Rome. On his return, having formed a familiar friendship with certain other young men eager for merchandise, he began to launch upon bolder courses, and to go frequently by sea to foreign lands. Thus, sailing often between Scotland and England, he traded in many diverse wares and learned much worldly wisdom through these occupations. . . . Aspiring ever higher and higher, and yearning upward with his whole heart, at length his great labors and cares bore much fruit in worldly gains. For he labored not only as a merchant but also as a shipman . . . to Denmark and Flanders and Scotland; in all these lands he found certain rare, and therefore more precious, wares, which he carried to other places where he knew them to be less familiar, and coveted by the inhabitants beyond the price of gold itself. . . . Hence he made great profit in all his bargains, and gathered much wealth in the sweat of his brow; for he sold dear in one place the wares which he had bought elsewhere at a small price.

He purchased half of a merchant ship with certain of his trading partners, and again by his prudence he bought the fourth part of another ship. At length, by his skill in navigation, in which he excelled all his fellows, he earned promotion to the post of steersman. . . . He knew, from the aspect of sea and stars, how to foretell fair or foul weather. In his various voyages he visited the shrines of many saints, to whose protection he was accustomed to commend himself most devoutly, but more especially the church of Saint Andrew in Scotland, where he most frequently made and paid his vows. On the way there, he often stopped at the island of Lindisfarne, where Saint Cuthbert had been bishop, and at the Isle of Farne, where that saint had lived as an anchorite, and where Saint Godric (as he himself would tell afterward) would meditate on the saint’s life with abundant tears. In this way he began to yearn for solitude, and to hold his merchandise in less esteem than before. . . .

After he had lived sixteen years as a merchant, he began to think of spending on charity, to God’s honor and service, the goods he had so laboriously acquired. He therefore took the cross as a pilgrim to Jerusalem, and, having visited the Holy Sepulcher, came back to England by way of Saint James [of Compostella, in Spain]. Not long afterward he became steward to a certain rich man of his own country, and was entrusted with the care of his whole house and household. But certain of the younger household were men of iniquity, who stole their neighbors’ cattle and thus held luxurious feasts which Godric, in his ignorance, sometimes attended. Afterward, discovering the truth, he rebuked and admonished them to cease, but they took no account of his warnings; wherefore he concealed not their iniquity, but disclosed it to the lord of the household, who, however, slighted his advice. For this reason he begged to be dismissed and went on a pilgrimage, first to Saint Gilles and from there to Rome, the abode of the apostles, that thus he might knowingly pay the penalty for those misdeeds in which he had ignorantly taken part. . . .

On his return from Rome, he lived for a while in his father’s house, until, inflamed again with holy zeal, he proposed to revisit the abode of the apostles and made his desire known to his parents. Not only did they approve his purpose, but his mother sought his permission to keep him company on this pilgrimage; this he gladly granted, and willingly paid her every filial service that was her due. They came therefore to London, and they had scarcely departed from that city when his mother took off her shoes, going thus barefooted to Rome and so back to London. Godric, humbly serving his parent, used to bear her on his shoulders. . . .

Godric, when he had restored his mother safe to his father’s arms, remained but a brief while at home; for he was now already firmly resolved to give himself over entirely to God’s service. And so, in order to follow Christ more freely, he sold all his possessions and distributed them among the poor. Then, telling his parents of this purpose and receiving their blessing, he went forth to no certain abode, but wherever the Lord should deign to lead him; for above all things he coveted the life of a hermit. . . . [Eventually he settled at Finchale and gained renown as a hermit.]

Questions: What does the Life tell us about economic life in the twelfth century? What are the stages of Godric’s spiritual development? Compare his vocation with that of Henry of Essex (doc. 37).

44. The History of William Marshal

William Marshal’s contemporaries admired him enormously, for his military prowess and reputation as a dashing young man; for his successful career in royal politics, which earned him an earldom (upon his marriage to the heiress of Pembroke, he was named the First Earl of Pembroke); and for his wisdom and integrity as an elder statesman during the troubled reign of King John (r. 1199–1216) and the minority of his son, Henry III. After William’s death his son commissioned an unusual and very long verse biography of him in French; the section translated here recounts episodes from William’s early life as a bachelor knight. (The surname “Marshal” derives from the family’s hereditary position as royal marshals.)

Source: trans. L. Algazi from Histoire de Guillaume le Maréchal, comte de Striguil et de Pembroke, régent d’Angleterre, 3 vols., ed. P. Meyer (Paris: Librairie Renouard, 1891–1901), vol. 1: pp. 44–56.

Everywhere the news was heard

That between Saint-Jame and Valennes

A tournament would soon be held.

Each knight sought to do his best

To prepare to journey there,

Doing all he needed to do.

And two weeks prior it was announced

That those from Anjou and from Maine,

From Poitevin and Brittany,

Would challenge Frenchmen, Englishmen,

And Normans on that glorious day

Without deception or dispute.

The news was spread so far and wide

That it came as far as Tancarville.

The chamberlain equipped himself

And prepared himself with pleasure

To bear arms in the contest.

The knights’ hall filled with men

Preparing to go to the tournament,

But the marshal had no means to go;

He sat and thought about his plight.

His lord came over and spoke to him:

“What are you thinking, Sir Marshal, pray?”

“My lord, I have no mount to ride,

And thus I am unfit to go.”

“Good Sir Marshal, be at ease;

You need no longer be concerned,

For a fine horse you shall have.”

The marshal thanked his sovereign lord,

Trusting in his given word.

All night the knights who would attend

Had chain mail rolled and trousers cleaned,

Adjusting all their suits of mail,

Their neckpieces and coverings,

Saddles, bridles, breast-pieces,

Saddle-girths, stirrups and saddle-straps.

The others tried their helmets on,

In case they might have need of them.

This one said: “I shall carry my shield;

I see that the strap fits me well

And its grip, I also see,

Fits my arm most comfortably;

All here is as it should be.”

On every side could then be seen

Knights donning caps and helmet mail,

And putting them among their gear.

Many worked to equip themselves

To the best of their abilities.

All night long they toiled away,

With many awake and few asleep;

The next morn they rushed to meet

In a group on the main square.

The chamberlain had fine horses brought

To give to all his faithful knights.

When the horses all were gone

The marshal still did not have one:

He saw quite well what had transpired,

And never said a single word

But this: “The horses have all gone,

But I have not been given one.”

Then replied the chamberlain:

“Sir Marshal, it were wrong indeed

That you were not the first to mount,

But you shall have a battle horse,

A fine and fair one, no matter the cost;

For no reason shall you be left behind.”

Someone pointed out to him

That there was one horse that remained

Very well made and strong and fine,

Lively, swift and spirited.

When the horse was brought to him,

A fine, well-bred and valuable steed,

Except for one unfortunate trait

That greatly decreased his worth:

He was so difficult to tame

That none could put his bridle on.

The marshal mounted in a trice:

With no effort nor help from his arm,

He nudged the horse on with his spurs,

And the horse flew like a bird,

Jumped off and galloped away.

When it was time to slow him down,

No other horse was stubborn as he;

No matter how expert his rider be,

If he held him back with fifteen bits

The horse would never stop for him.

The marshal perceived this trait,

And he conceived the perfect trick:

He lengthened the horse’s reins

By three fingers’ width, with a firm hand,

And this loosened the marshal’s grip

So that the bit in the horse’s mouth

Came down and settled on his teeth,

So that the horse no longer felt

The bit bearing down on his mouth.

For no gold and no amount of wealth

Would the horse have stopped himself.

But with this the horse was well content

And was so changed by the marshal’s grip

That he consented to trot around

A half an acre of open land

Like the sweetest animal in the land.

Fig. 31. Knights Fighting on Horseback. This drawing of an illustration from a fourteenth-century collection of Arthurian romances shows mounted knights fighting at close quarters, much as they would have in the melee-style tournaments of William Marshal’s youth. As the History of William Marshal (doc. 44) makes clear, participants aimed to capture and ransom as many fellow knights as possible.

The day of the tourney, the knights all came;

In front of their refuge they remained

Until they were well and truly armed

And ready as they were supposed to be;

Then they rode forth in small groups

Bunched together in an orderly way;

And know ye that, before the joust-yard,

Such tournaments did not have rules,

Nor did one dispute or discuss,

Except to lose or win it all.

The chamberlain stood back and watched;

Forty or more stalwart knights

Were fighting under his banner;

Such well-equipped knights had never been seen.

Many rode in dignity

To join the contest on that day.

The king of Scotland was present too

And rode his horse like a gentleman;

Many decorated knights rode with him,

Too many to easily count.

But why bore you with the details?

Sir Philip of Valognes

Was so elegantly equipped

And in his bearing quite refined

And more handsome than all the rest,

So much more alert than any bird,

That he was by others much admired.

The marshal studied him carefully:

Forthwith he left the gathering,

He spurred on his horse Blancart,

Between them he raced with all his might

And took Philip’s mount by the reins.

Philip tried valiantly to resist,

But against the marshal ’twas all in vain:

By sheer strength the marshal pulled his horse

Out of the midst of the tournament;

The marshal asked for Philip’s word

And trusted him to stay outside

So the marshal could continue to fight.

And when he had left his prisoner

He threw himself back into the fray;

Soon he took another knight

With a lance which he retrieved,

And with the remains of the lance

He fought so well that the knight submitted

And said he was his prisoner.

So two wealthy hostages had he,

With no injuries and no cause for shame;

He put his hand to taking a third;

He did so well and fought so hard

That this knight also yielded his sword;

And another knight then came to him,

As his prisoner was dismounting,

And said: “Since I fought at your side,

We should split the price of this horse.”

“Very well,” said the marshal to him;

“Whenever you wish to depart,

We’ll split the spoils before you leave.”

After speaking, he regretted his words,

But he never went back on his word.

Good sirs, it is true indeed

That God is wise and courteous:

He comes quickly to render aid

To all who have true faith in him.

That morning, the marshal had been poor

With no money and no horse to ride,

And now he had four and a half

Fine and fair horses, thanks be to God!

Thus he had palfreys and draft horses

And pack-horses and fine harnesses.

The tournament came to an end

And the chamberlain took his leave,

He and the knights who rode with him.

The marshal was esteemed by all

And many looked on him favorably,

Much more so than they had before.

Thus is proven the old saying:

“The more you have, the more you’re liked.”

Soon afterward was heard the news

That between Saint-Brice and Bouëre

There would be a tournament.

Whoever wished to increase his fame

And demonstrate his skill at arms

Could come and show his prowess there.

The chamberlain was preparing to go,

But then either illness or bad advice

Changed his mind and turned his head

So that he did not go after all.

But the marshal, in any case,

Prepared to travel to the tournament

Because he wanted to compete.

He asked permission of his lord,

Who told him without delay:

“I’m sure you shan’t arrive in time,

For it will take at least three days

For you to get from here to there;

Thus will you not make it in time.”

The marshal, who did not hesitate,

Said: “If it pleases God, I shall;

Do not worry on my account.”

“Go, then, and may God go with you!

I shan’t be the one to hold you back.”

The marshal took his leave and left

For always he goes willingly

To wherever his fancy leads.

He rode hard both day and night

Through the fields and over hills

So that he arrived in time

To see the knights preparing their arms.

Most were armed and ready to fight.

He dismounted hurriedly

And armed himself most handily,

Then mounted on his handsome steed

Of whom he was really quite fond.

Already the knights could be seen:

Some rode in total disarray

And others came in an orderly way,

Arranging themselves in battle ranks;

And he pursued his business there

As he so well knew how to do.

Thus at the outset did he fight

And triumph over a valiant knight.

He had hardly had a moment’s rest

When he saw charging straight at him

Five knights; they seized his horse’s reins,

But no matter how hard they tried

They could not take him prisoner,

For he gave them too much to do.

They were anxious to capture him,

But more anxious still to defend themselves:

They hit him hard and many times,

And he was not averse to the idea

Of returning the favor in kind.

He soon lost count of all the blows:

Some wanted to pull him from his horse,

Others tried to remove his helmet,

Still others tried to pull him down

Over the hind end of his mount;

Some struck him, others hit him,

And when he had escaped them all

He struck them hard upon the head,

Giving them their just reward.

No matter how many blows he received,

No one could ever unhorse him.

So many of them tried his mettle

That they renounced this fruitless battle,

And he fought them so fiercely

That he escaped in spite of them;

But they so badly battered him

That they turned his helmet ’round

So that the front was facing his back;

No matter how he tried to pull

Or take it off, it would not budge

And he could only take it off

By breaking one of the laces off,

And mangling his hands in the process.

With much effort and much pain

He pulled the helmet from his head;

Thus he could finally get some air.

Two important knights, methinks,

Who had seen him tourneying

Were passing by that very spot,

Sir Bon-Abbé de Rougé

and Sir Jean de Subligni.

Sir Jean recognized him,

But Bon-Abbé knew him not,

But he praised him, saying then:

“Sir Jean, who is that worthy knight

Who knows so well how to fight?

I have not heard tell of him.

See how weary is his mount!”

“Sir William Marshal is his name,”

Said Sir Jean to Bon-Abbé;

“Methinks that there has never been

A more able and honest man.

His arms are from Tancarville.”

Then Sir Bon-Abbé replied:

“Any army led by that knight

Must be the better for it, both

In merit and in bravery.”

The marshal heard their every word,

And he rejoiced within his heart.

’Tis true that joy and happiness

Enhance good sense and prowess.

Then he put his helmet back on.

Though he was not eager to fight,

He reentered the tournament.

He behaved so valiantly

That all were very much impressed

By the strength and competence

With which he made his way through the throng.

None pushed in too close to him,

Thus they left him a clear path.

On both sides the crowd was abuzz.

By blows both given and received

He so increased his own renown

That he was granted by acclaim

All the prizes of the day.

But he did not wish to take them all;

Quickly he held out his hand

To a horse from Lombardy,

But this horse had never been tamed

And had never let anyone mount;

Nor did he want to be harnessed,

So the horse dropped to the ground.

The marshal took the horse by the bit,

Who wished that he would leave him be;

Thus he took him from the crowd,

And gave him to his squire to hold.

But I shall not bore you any more.

Questions: What are the knights in this poem interested in? How does the poem express chivalric values? What obstacles does William overcome? What are his rewards?

45. John of Salisbury’s Policraticus

John of Salisbury, a Paris-trained scholar who eventually became bishop of Chartres, was English by birth and a close associate of Thomas Becket, to whom in 1159 he dedicated the Policraticus, his treatise on government, politics, and power. The extracts below mention some of the classical sources (including one misattributed to Plutarch) on which John, one of the great twelfth-century humanists, drew in composing what some consider the earliest book of medieval political theory. John’s use of the human body as a metaphor for the interdependent relationships of various social groups is characteristic of medieval Christian thinkers.

Source: trans. D.C. Douglas and G.W. Greenaway, eds., English Historical Documents, Vol. 2: 1042–1189 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1953), pp. 784–89.

The nature of the state, according to [pseudo-] Plutarch, and what takes the place therein of the soul and the members of the body.

Headings of the same political construction follow in the little book entitled The Institutes of Trajan, which I have in part thought fit to make use of in this present work. But this I have done by reproducing its views in outline rather than by using its actual words.

First of all, it is laid down that the prince should judge everything for himself and diligently consider what place he occupies in the whole body politic. . . . Those, indeed, who preside over the practice of religious duties, ought to be upheld and reverenced as being the soul of the body. For who doubts that the ministers of God’s holiness are his vicars? Furthermore, as the soul has preeminence over the whole body, so also those whom God calls to be officials of religion are set over the whole body. . . . The prince, indeed, occupies the position of the head in the state, being subject to the one true God and his representatives on earth, as in the human body the head is both animated and ruled by the spirit. The senate takes the place of the heart, whence spring the impulses to good and evil deeds. The judges and provincial governors appropriate the functions of the eyes, ears and tongue, the officials and soldiers correspond to the hands, the courtiers to the sides, the treasurers and financial experts . . . represent the stomach and intestines. These, if they become clogged through excessive indulgence of appetite and remain stubbornly constipated, engender manifold and incurable disorders and bring ruin upon the whole body. The husbandmen correspond to the feet, ever cleaving to the ground, for which the foresight of the head is the more necessary as they find occasion for stumbling, when they tread the earth in obedience to the dictates of the body. For this reason they should be well shod, for they support the weight of the whole body, keep it erect and enable it to move. Take away the support of the feet from a healthy body and it will be unable to walk under its own power, but will either crawl on its hands, shamefully, helplessly and with great difficulty, or be propelled with the assistance of the animal creation. . . .

[The Function of Soldiers]

. . . What kind of soldiers are they who, despite their oaths, do not conform to the law, but think that the glory of their warfare consists in showing contempt for the priesthood, in disparaging the authority of the Church, in expanding man’s empire in such a way as to contract the dominion of Christ, in singing their own praises and flattering and exalting themselves by false proclamations, aping the famous warrior amidst the derision of their hearers? The courage of such men is most evident when they wound the clergy, the defenseless soldiery, either with weapons or with their tongues. What, then, is the true function of the professional soldier? To protect the Church, to fight against treachery, to reverence the priesthood, to ward off injuries from the poor, to ensure peace throughout the provinces and (as taught by a true understanding of the sacrament) to shed his blood and, if need be, to lay down his life for his brethren. . . .

[On Tyrants and Tyrannicide]

. . . In profane letters there is contained a warning that life should be carried on in one way with a friend and in the opposite way with a tyrant. One should certainly not indulge in servile flattery of a friend, but it is permissible to soothe the ears of a tyrant. For it is permissible to flatter one whom it is lawful to slay. Moreover, not only is it lawful to slay the tyrant, but it is likewise just and equitable to do so. For he that takes the sword deserves to perish by the sword. But taking the sword is to be understood of him who seizes it for his own purpose, not of him who receives power to wield it from the lord. He that receives power from God complies with the laws and is the servant of right and justice. But he who seizes power oppresses the rights of men and subordinates the laws to his own will. Therefore the law is justly armed against the man who would disarm the laws, and the authority of the state strikes heavily against him who strives to weaken its power. And though there are many treasonable offenses, none is more serious than this which is practised against the body of the laws themselves. . . .

Wherein the Tyrant Differs from the Prince, and of the Tyranny of Priests

. . . The tyrant then, as the philosophers have depicted him, is one who oppresses the people by violent and despotic rule, even as the prince governs by the laws. Moreover, the law is the gift of God, the model of equity, the pattern of justice, the image of the divine will, the guardian of security, the force unifying and consolidating the people, the rule of conduct for officials, the exclusion and extermination of vices, the penalty for violence and all wrongdoing. The law may be assailed either by force or by cunning; it may be, as it were, ravaged by the cruelty of the lion or lured into the lair of the dragon. By whatever means this occurs, it is clear that divine grace is attacked and that God is in some measure provoked to battle. The prince fights for the laws and the liberty of the people; the tyrant reckons that nothing has been accomplished unless he has nullified the laws and enticed the people into servitude. The prince bears the stamp of divinity, while the tyrant’s image is that of a perverted strength and satanic wickedness, in that he copies Lucifer, who forsook virtue and strove to place his seat in the north part of heaven and become like the most High. . . .

Questions: What kinds of analogies does John use to explain the ordering of the state and society? What is the proper relationship between the Church and secular government? How does John distinguish between kings and tyrants?

46. Richard of Devizes on the Third Crusade

The famed warrior-king Richard I (r. 1189–99) is better known as Richard the Lionheart. He visited England only twice during his reign, preferring to use its rich resources to fund his wars on the continent and his crusade to the Middle East. The following account, by a monastic chronicler who was not an eyewitness but was well informed, describes the aftermath of the Christians’ capture of the important port city of Acre in 1191.

Source: trans. J.A. Giles, Chronicles of the Crusades, Being Contemporary Narratives . . . , ed. H.G. Bohn (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1848), pp. 55–56, 60–64; revised.

86. Richard, the king of the English, had already spent two years conquering the region around Jerusalem, and during all that time no aid had been sent to him from any of his realms. Nor yet were his only and uterine brother, John, count of Mortain, nor his justiciars, nor his other nobles, observed to take any care to send him any part of his revenues, and they did not even think of his return. The Church, however, prayed to God for him without ceasing. The king’s army shrank daily in the promised land, and besides those who were slain by the sword, many thousands more perished every month by the too sudden extremities of the nightly cold and the daily heat. When it appeared that they would all have to die there, every one had to choose whether he would die as a coward or in battle.

On the other side, the strength of the infidels greatly increased, and their confidence was strengthened by the misfortunes of the Christians. Their army was relieved at certain times by fresh troops; the weather was natural to them; the place was their native country; their labor, health; their frugality, medicine. Among us, on the contrary, that which brought gain to our adversaries became a disadvantage. For if our people had too little to eat even once in a week, they were rendered less effective for seven weeks after. The mingled nation of French and English fared sumptuously every day, at whatever cost, while their treasure lasted, and—no offense to the French—they ate until they were sick. . . . To these and other calamities, which were severe and many, a much greater one was added by the sickness of the king.

87. The king was extremely sick, and confined to his bed, as his fever continued without intermission; the physicians whispered that it was an acute semitertian fever. And as they despaired of his recovery even from the beginning, terrible dismay spread from the king’s abode throughout the camp. There were few among the many thousands who did not consider fleeing, and the utmost confusion of dispersion or surrender would have followed, had not Hubert Walter, bishop of Salisbury, immediately assembled the council. By strenuous argument he won this concession: that the army should not break up until a truce was requested from Saladin. All the armed men stood in array more steadily than usual, and with a threatening look concealing the reluctance of their minds, they feigned a desire for battle. No one spoke of the king’s illness, lest the secret of their intense sorrow should be disclosed to the enemy; for it was well known that Saladin feared the charge of the whole army less than that of the king alone. . . .

[The Saracens eventually proposed a truce in these terms:] If it pleased King Richard, for the space of three years, three months, three weeks, three days, and three hours, such a truce would be observed between the Christians and the infidels, that whatever either one party or the other in any way possessed, he would possess without molestation to the end. During the interval the Christians would be permitted at their pleasure to fortify Acre only, and the infidels Jerusalem. All contracts, all commerce, every act, and every thing would be mutually carried on by all in peace. [Saladin’s brother] Saffadin himself was dispatched to the English as the bearer of this offer.

94. . . . [Eventually,] having resumed his strength of body more by the greatness of his mind than by repose or nourishment, [King Richard] issued a command to the whole coast from Tyre to Ascalon, that all who were able to serve in the wars should come to fight at the king’s expense. A countless multitude assembled before him, the greater part of whom were on foot. Having rejected them as useless, he mustered the cavalry, and found scarcely 500 knights and 2,000 shield-bearers whose lords had perished. Not discouraged by their small number, he, being a most excellent orator, strengthened the minds of the fearful with a timely speech. He commanded that it be proclaimed through the companies that on the third day they must follow the king into battle, either to die as martyrs or to take Jerusalem by storm. This was the sum of his project, because as yet he knew nothing of the truce. For there was no one who dared even hint to him, when he had so unexpectedly recovered, that which they had undertaken without his knowledge, through fear of his death. However, Hubert Walter, bishop of Salisbury, took counsel with Count Henry concerning the truce, and obtained his ready agreement with his wishes. So having deliberated together how they might safely hinder such a hazardous engagement, they conceived of the one stratagem . . . to try to dissuade the people from the enterprise. And the matter turned out most favorably; the spirit of those who were going to fight had so greatly failed even without dissuasion, that on the appointed day, when the king, leading the vanguard according to his custom, marshaled his army, of all the knights and shield-bearers no more than 900 were found. On account of which defection, the king, greatly enraged, even raving, and gnawing the pine rod which he held in his hand, at length opened his indignant lips as follows: “O God!” said he, “O God, my God, why have you forsaken me? For whom have we foolish Christians, for whom have we English come here from the furthest parts of the earth to bear our arms? Is it not for the God of the Christians? O fie! How good you are to us your people, who are now given up to the sword for your name; we shall become a portion for foxes. O how unwilling should I be to forsake you in so forlorn and dreadful a position, were I your lord and advocate as you are mine! Truly, my standards will be despised in future, not through my fault but through yours; truly, not through any cowardice of my warfare, are you yourself, my king and my God, conquered this day, and not your vassal Richard.” . . .

98. He spoke thus, and returned to the camp extremely dejected; and as a fit occasion now offered, Bishop Hubert and Henry, count of Champagne, approaching him with unusual familiarity, as if nothing had yet been arranged, begged the king under various pretexts to give his consent to making such overtures to the infidels as were necessary. And thus the king answered: “Since a troubled mind is usually more likely to thwart than to afford sound judgment—I, who am greatly troubled in mind, authorize you, whom I see to be calm of mind, to arrange what you shall think most proper for the good of peace.” Having gained their desires, they chose messengers to send to Saffadin upon these matters, at which point Saffadin, who had returned from Jerusalem, was suddenly announced to be at hand. The count and the bishop went to meet him, and being assured by him of the truce, they instructed him on how he must speak with the lord their king. Being admitted to an interview with the king as one who previously had been his friend, Saffadin could scarcely prevail upon the king not to destroy himself but to consent to the truce. For so great were the man’s strength of body, mental courage, and entire trust in Christ, that he could hardly be prevailed upon not to undertake in his own person a single combat with a thousand of the choicest infidels, as he was destitute of soldiers. And as he was not permitted to attack, he chose this evasion, that, after a truce of seven weeks, the stipulations of the compact being preserved, it should remain for him to choose whether it were better to fight or to forbear. The two parties put their right hands to the final agreement, that they would faithfully observe it. . . .

99. Richard, king of England, held a council at Acre, and there prudently regulating the government of that state, he appointed his nephew, Henry, count of Champagne, on whom he had formerly conferred Tyre, to be captain and lord of the whole promised land. But he thought it proper to defer his consecration as king till he might perhaps be crowned at Jerusalem. King Richard, now planning to return home, with the assistance of Count Henry appointed men for all the strongholds in his territories and found Ascalon alone without garrison or inhabitants, for lack of people. Thus, taking precaution that it might not become a stronghold of the infidels, he caused the ramparts and fortifications of the castle to be cast down.

On the seventh day of the seventh week, Saffadin drew near with many emirs who desired to see the face of the king. Both sides confirmed the truce by oath, with this provision being added to what had been previously agreed, that during the continuance of the truce no one, whether Christian or infidel, should inhabit Ascalon, and that all the fields pertaining to the town should still belong to the Christians. Hubert, bishop of Salisbury, and Henry, captain of Judea, together with a numerous band, went up to Jerusalem to worship in the place where the feet of Christ had stood. And there was woeful misery to be seen—captive confessors of the Christian name, wearing out a hard and constant martyrdom; chained together in gangs, their feet blistered, their shoulders raw, their backsides goaded, their backs wealed, they carried materials to the hands of the masons and stone-layers to make Jerusalem impregnable against the Christians. When the captain and bishop had returned from the sacred places, they endeavored to persuade the king to visit them; but the worthy indignation of his great heart could not consent to receive by the courtesy of the infidels that which he could not obtain by the gift of God.

Questions: How do Richard’s values and concerns manifest themselves in this account? What does the author think of the king? How do the Europeans see the Muslims of the Middle East? What divisions exist among the crusaders?

47. Enforcing the Forest Law

By 1200, over a quarter of English land was classed as royal forest. Encompassing not only wooded areas but arable land and settlements, the forest was protected by verderers and foresters, officials tasked with preventing these areas from being cleared, planted, or enclosed, as well as enforcing prohibitions against hunting (though local elites could obtain licenses to take a limited amount of game). Keepers were bound to report offenses against forest law to a local court, whose officials dealt with minor offenses and bound serious offenders to appear before the royal justices when they next visited the shire. While imprisonment and exile from the forest could be ordered for serious offenses or repeat offenders, most cases resulted in fines, and thus enforcement of the forest law was very profitable for the crown, bringing in some £11,500 between 1207 and 1212 alone.

Source: trans. G.J. Turner, Select Pleas of the Forest, Selden Society Publications 13 (London: Bernard Quaritch, 1901), pp. 2–5; revised.

Pleas of the Forest Heard at Northampton, February 1209

Roger Grim, the reaper of the abbot of Peterborough, was taken as he followed four hinds with his dogs. And he was delivered into the custody of Master Geoffrey Gilbewin, the steward of the abbot of Peterborough, but [Geoffrey] did not bring him before the judges. Judgment of the county: that the same Geoffrey be in mercy [liable to punishment at the court’s discretion] because he did not produce the aforesaid Roger, and that he remain in prison, and so he is delivered to the sheriff’s custody. . . .

Let the land of Peter Tanet, namely, the six acres he had from the chaplain of Ufford, be seized into the king’s hands. The same Peter and Richard Gerewold are to be fined. They were seen in the forest with bows and arrows within an enclosure. They had no chattels. And the sheriff is ordered to fine them according to the assize of the county. If they do not come, let them be outlawed. Robert of Ufford, clerk, and his whole township are in mercy for the flight of the aforesaid Peter and Richard. . . .

The whole township of Newton is in mercy for the flight of Richard Gelee, their reaper, who was accused of shooting a buck in the short wood of Nassington, for which crime Henry, the son of Benselin, was arrested. The foresters found in the wood of Nassington a doe with its throat cut, and hard by they found Henry, son of Benselin, lying under a certain bush. And they took him and put him in prison. He comes before the justices and denies that he ever knew anything about that doe, and that he only went into the wood to seek his horse. The foresters took him and led him to that doe. Asked if he was guilty or not, the foresters and verderers say they do not think he was guilty, but instead they believe that Richard Gelee, the reaper of Newton, is guilty of that crime, because he fled as soon as he heard that the aforesaid Henry had been arrested. And because Henry himself has taken the cross [vowed to go on crusade], and is not suspected, and has lain in prison for a long time, he is granted permission to make his pilgrimage. Let him start his journey before Whitsunday, and if he returns and can find pledges of his fealty, he may remain in the forest.

Thomas Inkel, forester of Cliffe, found in the wood of Siberton a certain place wet with blood, and he traced the blood in the snow as far as the house of Ralph Red of Siberton, and immediately he sent for the verderers and good men. When they searched Ralph’s house, they found the flesh of a doe, and they took Ralph to Northampton and put him in prison, where he died. But before his death, while he was in prison, he accused Robert Sturdi and Roger Tock of Siberton of having taken part in the evil doings in the forest along with him. And the foresters and verderers searched the house of the aforesaid Robert and found the bones of a deer, and so they seized him and sent him to prison. And in the house of Roger Tock they found the ears and bones of wild beasts, so he was arrested and imprisoned as well. Robert Sturdi comes before the justices and says that the dogs of Walter of Preston used to be kenneled at his house. Walter’s hunters ate the venison from which the bones found in his house came, and Robert vouches the aforesaid Walter will attest to this; let him produce him tomorrow. Walter comes and vouches for him, saying that his dogs were kenneled in Robert’s house for fifteen days while he was hunting bucks. Roger Tock comes before the justices and denies everything. And the verderers and foresters bear witness that the ears and bones found in his house were those of beasts that the hunters of Walter of Preston took. And because Roger lay for a long time in prison, so that he is near death, it is adjudged that he be released, but let him dwell outside the forest. . . .

The head of a recently dead hart was found in the wood of Henry Dawney at Maidford by the king’s foresters. And the forester of the aforesaid Henry is dead. And because nothing can be ascertained about that hart, it is ordered that the whole of the aforesaid town of Maidford be seized into the king’s hand, along with the wood belonging to it, on the grounds that the aforesaid Henry can offer no information about that hart. . . .

Thomas the son of Eustace and Thomas of Oswestry are in mercy because they carried bows and arrows in the king’s forest without license; the matter must be referred to the king.

Ralph Neirut of Thewelton is in mercy because a crossbow and bow were found in his house without warrant.

Roger Wandard is in mercy for having a greyhound bitch against the assize.

Questions: What activities constituted breaches of forest law? How did the courts encourage communities to police their members and refrain from protecting local offenders? Does this document help explain widespread resentment of the forest laws?

48. Letters of Innocent III and King John

Threatened with the papal appointment of Stephen Langton, an unwanted archbishop of Canterbury, King John (r. 1199–1216) stood up for the traditional relative independence of the English Church and king from papal intervention; the quarrel resulted in a papal interdict that shut down most church functions in England for seven years. In the first letter below, the pope explains details of the interdict to the English clergy. In the second, John makes his ultimate submission to the pope, thus making possible the lifting of the penalty.

Source: trans. H. Gee and W.G. Hardy, Documents Illustrative of the History of the English Church (London: Macmillan, 1910), pp. 73–77; revised.

Answer of Innocent III Concerning the Interdict, 1208

Innocent the bishop, etc., to the bishops of London, Ely, and Worcester, greeting and apostolic blessing. We reply to your inquiries, that since by reason of the interdict new chrism [consecrated oil] cannot be consecrated on Maundy Thursday, old must be used in the baptism of infants, and, if necessity demands it, the bishop or priest must mix the oil with the chrism so that it will not run out. And although it seems appropriate to administer the viaticum to the dying, yet, if it cannot be had, we believe that the principle of “believe and you have eaten” (Augustine, Tractates on the Gospel of John, 25.12) applies in this case, when actual need, and not contempt of religion, excludes the sacrament, and the actual need is expected soon to cease. Let neither gospel nor the church hours be observed in the accustomed place, nor in any other, even if the people assemble there. Let religious men, whose monasteries people have been accustomed to visit for the sake of prayer, admit pilgrims into the church for prayer, not by the greater door, but by a more secret place. Let church doors remain shut except at the chief festival of the church, when the parishioners and others may be admitted for prayer into the church with open doors. Let baptism be celebrated in the usual manner with old chrism and oil inside the church with shut doors, no lay person being admitted save the godparents; and if need be, new oil must be mixed. Penance is to be inflicted as well on the healthy as well as the sick; for in the midst of life we are in death. Those who have confessed in a suit, or have been convicted of some crime, are to be sent to the bishop or his penitentiary, and, if need be, are to be forced to go by the threat of church censure. Priests may say their own hours and prayers in private. On Sunday priests may bless water in the churchyard and sprinkle it; and can make and distribute the bread when it has been blessed, and announce feasts and fasts and preach a sermon to the people. A woman who has given birth may come to church, and perform her purification outside the church walls. Priests shall visit the sick, and hear confessions, and let them perform the commendation of souls in the accustomed manner, but they shall not follow the corpses of the dead, because they will not have church burial. Priests shall, on the day of the Passion, place the cross outside the church, without ceremony, so that the parishioners may adore it with the customary devotion.

John’s Surrender of the Kingdom to the Pope, 1213

John, by grace of God king of England, lord of Ireland, duke of Normandy and Aquitaine, earl of Anjou, to all the faithful in Christ who shall inspect this present charter, greeting. We wish it to be known by all of you by this our charter, confirmed by our seal, that we, having offended God and our mother the holy Church in many things, and being on that account known to need the divine mercy, and unable to make any worthy offering for the performance of due satisfaction to God and the Church, unless we humble ourselves and our realms—we, willing to humble ourselves for him who humbled himself for us even to death, by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit’s grace, under no compulsion of force or fear, but of our good and free will, and by the common consent of our barons, offer and freely grant to God and his holy apostles Peter and Paul, and the holy Roman Church, our mother, and to our lord the pope Innocent and his catholic successors, the whole realm of England and the whole realm of Ireland with all their rights and appurtenances, for the remission of our sins and those of all our race, as well quick as dead. Now receiving back and holding these, as a feudal dependent, from God and the Roman Church, in the presence of the prudent man Pandulf, subdeacon and familiar of the lord the pope, we swear fealty for them to the aforesaid our lord the pope Innocent and his catholic successors and the Roman Church, according to the form written below, and will do liege homage to the same lord the pope in his presence if we shall be able to be present before him; binding our successors and heirs by our wife, forever, that in like manner to the supreme pontiff for the time being, and to the Roman Church, they should pay fealty and acknowledge homage without contradiction. Moreover, in proof of this our perpetual obligation and grant, we will and establish that from the proper and special revenues of our aforesaid realms, for all service and custom that we should render for ourselves, saving in all respects the penny of blessed Peter, the Roman Church receive 1000 marks sterling each year, to wit at the feast of Saint Michael 500 marks, and at Easter 500 marks; 700 to wit for the realm of England, and 300 for Ireland; saving to us and our heirs, our rights, liberties, and royalties. To all of which, as aforesaid, and willing them to be perpetually ratified and confirmed, we bind ourselves and our successors not to contravene. And if we or any of our successors shall presume to attempt this, whoever he be, unless he makes amends after due warning, let him forfeit his right to the kingdom, and let this charter of obligation and grant on our part remain in force forever.

Questions: How did the interdict affect laypeople and clergy? Which restrictions might have been particularly distressing? How might John’s submission have affected the crown’s power and prestige?

49. Roger of Wendover’s Account of the Rebellion against King John

John’s troubles were far from over with the lifting of the interdict. Early in his reign he had also lost most of his French territories to the French king, Philip II. Having made peace with the pope, he launched a final effort to reclaim those lands, but in 1214 he was soundly defeated at Bouvines in Flanders. The English barons, chaffing under the oppressive and expensive government of a militarily unsuccessful king, now saw their hopes of regaining their French inheritances disappear. The most dissatisfied of them resolved to try at least to improve John’s treatment of them at home, as recounted in this excerpt from the chronicle of Roger of Wendover, a monk at the abbey of Saint Albans.

Source: trans. J.A. Giles, Roger of Wendover’s Flowers of History (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1859), vol. 2, pp. 304–9; revised.

Of the Demands Made by the Barons of England for Their Rights

In 1215, which was the seventeenth year of the reign of King John, he held his court at Winchester at Christmas for one day, after which he hurried to London, and took up his abode at the New Temple. At that place the above-mentioned nobles came to him in gay military array, and demanded the confirmation of the liberties and laws of King Edward [the Confessor], with other liberties granted to them and to the kingdom and Church of England, as were contained in the charter and laws of Henry I; they also asserted that, at the time of the king’s absolution [by the pope’s representatives] at Winchester, he had promised to restore those laws and ancient liberties, and was bound by his own oath to observe them. The king, hearing the bold tone of the barons in making this demand, much feared an attack from them, as he saw that they were prepared for battle; however, he answered that their demands were a matter of importance and difficulty, and therefore asked a truce till the end of Easter, so that he might, after due deliberation, be able to satisfy them as well as the dignity of his crown. After much discussion on both sides, the king at length, although unwillingly, procured the archbishop of Canterbury, the bishop of Ely, and William Marshal as his sureties that on the agreed-upon day he would, in all reason, satisfy them all, upon which the nobles returned to their homes. The king, however, wishing to take precautions for the future, caused all the nobles throughout England to swear fealty to him alone against all men, and to renew their homage to him. And, the better to take care of himself, on the day of Saint Mary’s Purification [2 February] he assumed the cross of our Lord [he vowed to go on crusade], being induced to do this more by fear than devotion. . . .

Of the Principal Persons Who Compelled the King to Grant the Laws and Liberties

In Easter week of this same year, the above-mentioned nobles assembled at Stamford, with horses and arms; for they had now induced almost all the nobility of the whole kingdom to join them. . . . They counted among their army 2,000 knights, besides horse soldiers, attendants, and footsoldiers, who were variously equipped. The chief promoters of this pestilence were Robert fitzWalter, Eustace de Vescy, Richard de Percy, Robert de Roos, Peter de Bruis, Nicholas de Stuteville, Saher earl of Winchester, R. Earl Clare, H. Earl Clare, Earl Roger Bigod, William de Mowbray, Roger de Cressi, Ralph fitzRobert, Robert de Vere, Fulk fitzWarin, William Malet, William de Montacute, William de Beauchamp, S. de Kyme, William Marshall the younger, [24 more named men], and many others; all of these, being united by oath, were supported by Archbishop Stephen of Canterbury, who was at their head. At this time the king was awaiting the arrival of his nobles at Oxford. On the Monday following the octave of Easter, the said barons assembled in the town of Brackley; when the king learned of this, he sent the archbishop of Canterbury and William Marshal, earl of Pembroke, with some other prudent men, to them to inquire what laws and liberties they demanded. The barons then delivered to the messengers a document containing in great measure the laws and ancient customs of the kingdom, and declared that, unless the king immediately granted them and confirmed them under his own seal, they would, by taking possession of his fortresses, force him to give them sufficient satisfaction as to their demands. The archbishop and his fellow messengers then carried the document to the king, and read to him the heads of the document one by one from start to finish. The king, when he heard the purport of these heads, derisively said, with the greatest indignation, “Among these unjust demands, why didn’t the barons ask for my kingdom too? Their demands are vain and delusional, and are unsupported by any plea of reason whatever.” And at length he angrily declared with an oath that he would never grant them such liberties as would render him their slave. . . .

The Castle of Northampton Besieged by the Barons

As the archbishop and William Marshal could not by any means persuade the king to agree to their demands, they returned by the king’s orders to the barons, and duly reported all they had heard from the king to them; and when the nobles heard what John said, they appointed Robert fitzWalter as commander of their soldiers, giving him the title of “Marshal of the army of God and the holy Church,” and then, one and all flying to arms, they directed their forces toward Northampton. On their arrival there they at once besieged the castle, but after having stayed there for fifteen days, and gaining little or no advantage, they determined to move their camp. . . .

How the City of London Was Given Up to the Barons

When the army of the barons arrived at Bedford, they were received with all respect by William de Beauchamp. There also came to them there messengers from the city of London, secretly telling them that if they wished to get into that city they should come there immediately. The barons, encouraged by the arrival of this agreeable message, immediately moved their camp and arrived at Ware; after this they marched the whole night, and arrived early in the morning at the city of London, and, finding the gates open, entered the city on 24 May, which was the Sunday next before our Lord’s ascension, without any tumult while the inhabitants were performing divine service; for the rich citizens were favorable to the barons, and the poor ones were afraid to murmur against them. The barons, having thus got into the city, placed their own guards in charge of each of the gates, and then arranged all matters in the city at will. They then took sureties from the citizens, and sent letters throughout England to those earls, barons, and knights who appeared to be still faithful to the king, though they only pretended to be so, and advised them with threats, as they regarded the safety of all their property and possessions, to abandon a king who swore falsely and made war on his barons, and to stand firm and fight with them against the king for their rights and for peace. And they threatened that, if they refused to do this, they, the barons, would make war against them all, as against open enemies, and would destroy their castles, burn their houses and other buildings, and destroy their warrens, parks, and orchards. . . . The majority of these, upon receiving the barons’ message, set out for London and joined them, abandoning the king entirely. The pleas of the exchequer and of the sheriffs’ courts ceased throughout England, because there was no one to make a valuation for the king or to obey him in anything.

The Conference between the King and the Barons

King John, when he saw that he was deserted by almost all, so that out of his regal superabundance of followers he scarcely retained seven knights, was much alarmed lest the barons would attack his castles and reduce them without difficulty. . . . So he deceitfully pretended to make peace for a time with the barons, and sent William Marshal, earl of Pembroke, with several other trustworthy messengers, to them, and told them that for the sake of peace, and for the exaltation and honor of the kingdom, he would willingly grant them the laws and liberties they required; he also sent word to the barons by these same messengers, to appoint a fitting day and place to meet and carry all these matters into effect. The king’s messengers then came in all haste to London, and without deceit reported to the barons all that had been deceitfully imposed on them; they in their great joy appointed 15 June for the king to meet them, at a field lying between Staines and Windsor. Accordingly, at the prearranged time and place, the king and nobles came to the appointed conference, and when each party had stationed themselves apart from the other, they began a long discussion about terms of peace and the aforesaid liberties. There were present, on behalf of the king, the archbishops Stephen of Canterbury and J. of Dublin; the bishops [of London, Winchester, Lincoln, Bath, Worcester, Coventry, and Rochester]; Master Pandulph, [papal legate,] familiar of our lord the pope; brother Almeric, master of the Knights Templar in England; the nobles, William Marshal, earl of Pembroke, the earl of Salisbury, Earl Warrenne, the earl of Arundel, Alan de Galwey, W. fitzGerald, Peter fitzHerbert, Alan Basset, Matthew fitzHerbert, Thomas Basset, Hugh de Neville, Hubert de Burgh, seneschal of Poitou, Robert de Ropely, John Marshal, and Philip d’Aubigny. It is not necessary to enumerate those who were present on behalf of the barons, since the whole nobility of England were now assembled together. . . . At length, after various points on both sides had been discussed, King John, seeing that he was inferior in strength to the barons, without raising any difficulty, granted the following laws and liberties [Magna Carta], and confirmed them by his charter. . . .

Questions: What do the barons’ grievances appear to be? What is the king’s position? Where do the chronicler’s sympathies lie? What roles do military strength and military action, as well as simple opportunism after John’s defeat at Bouvines play in the political situation?

50. Magna Carta

The popular reputation of Magna Carta (“the great charter”) as a revolutionary document that is the foundation of modern freedom and democracy has no foundation in the document itself. The content of the text was hardly innovative: the barons were securing the rights to which they felt they were already entitled by custom; the king was agreeing to fulfill his traditional role by acting with the advice and assent of his greater subjects. Nor was the idea of a charter promising good royal behavior new; every twelfth-century ruler had issued such a document at his coronation. What is new and remarkable about Magna Carta is that the barons forced the king to acknowledge his misdeeds and his obligations in writing, and the impact it had as a symbol of that victory and a set of guarantees for the future.

Source: trans. E.P. Cheyney, Translations and Reprints from the Original Sources of European History, 1st ser. (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania, Department of History, 1894), vol. 1, no. 6, pp. 6–17; revised.

John, by the grace of God, king of England, lord of Ireland, duke of Normandy and Aquitaine, count of Anjou, to the archbishops, bishops, abbots, earls, barons, justiciars, foresters, sheriffs, reeves, servants, and all bailiffs and his faithful people, greeting. Know that by the suggestion of God and for the good of our soul and those of all our predecessors and of our heirs, to the honor of God and the exaltation of holy Church, and the improvement of our kingdom, by the advice of our venerable fathers Stephen, archbishop of Canterbury, primate of all England and cardinal of the holy Roman Church, Henry, archbishop of Dublin, William of London, Peter of Winchester, Jocelyn of Bath and Glastonbury, Hugh of Lincoln, Walter of Worcester, William of Coventry, and Benedict of Rochester, bishops; of Master Pandulf, subdeacon and companion of the lord pope, of Brother Aymeric, master of the Knights of the Temple in England; and of the noblemen William Marshal, earl of Pembroke, William, earl of Salisbury, William, earl of Warren, William, earl of Arundel, Alan of Galloway, constable of Scotland, Warin fitzGerald, Peter fitzHerbert, Hubert de Burgh, steward of Poitou, Hugh de Neville, Matthew fitzHerbert, Thomas Bassett, Alan Bassett, Philip d’Albini, Robert de Roppelay, John Marshall, John fitzHugh, and others of our faithful.

1. In the first place we have granted to God, and confirmed by this our present charter, for us and our heirs forever, that the English Church shall be free, and shall hold its rights entire and its liberties uninjured; and we will that it thus be observed; which is shown by this, that the freedom of elections, which is considered to be most important and especially necessary to the English Church, we granted of our pure and spontaneous will, and confirmed by our charter, before the contest between us and our barons arose; and obtained a confirmation of it from the lord pope Innocent III, which we will observe and which shall be observed in good faith by our heirs forever.

We have granted, moreover, to all free men of our kingdom for us and our heirs forever all the liberties written below, to be had and held by themselves and their heirs from us and our heirs.

2. If any of our earls or barons, or others holding from us in chief by military service shall have died, and when he has died his heir shall be of full age and owe relief, he shall have his inheritance by the ancient relief; that is to say, the heir or heirs of an earl for the whole barony of an earl £100; the heir or heirs of a baron for a whole barony £100; the heir or heirs of a knight, for a whole knight’s fee, 100s. at most; and who owes less let him give less according to the ancient custom of fiefs.

3. If, moreover, the heir of any one of such shall be under age, and shall be in wardship, when he comes of age he shall have his inheritance without relief and without a fine.

4. The custodian of the land of such a minor heir shall not take from the land of the heir anything except reasonable products, reasonable customary payments, and reasonable services, and this without destruction or waste of men or of property; and if we shall have committed the custody of the land of any such a one to the sheriff or to any other who is to be responsible to us for its proceeds, and that man causes destruction or waste from his custody we will recover damages from him, and the land shall be committed to two legal and discreet men of that fief, who shall be responsible for its proceeds to us or to him to whom we have assigned them; and if we shall have given or sold to anyone the custody of any such land, and he causes destruction or waste there, he shall lose that custody, and it shall be handed over to two legal and discreet men of that fief who shall be in like manner responsible to us as is said above.

5. The custodian, moreover, so long as he shall have the custody of the land, must keep up the houses, parks, warrens, fish ponds, mills, and other things pertaining to the land, from the proceeds of the land itself; and he must return to the heir, when he has reached full age, all his land, furnished with plows and implements of husbandry according as the time of cultivation requires and as the proceeds of the land are reasonably able to sustain.

6. Heirs shall be married without disparity, but so that before the marriage is contracted, it shall be announced to the heir’s blood relatives.

7. After the death of her husband, a widow shall have her marriage portion and her inheritance immediately and without obstruction, nor shall she give anything for her dowry or for her marriage portion, or for her inheritance which she held on the day of the death of her husband; and she may remain in the house of her husband for forty days after his death, within which time her dowry shall be assigned to her.

8. No widow shall be compelled to marry so long as she prefers to live without a husband, provided she gives security that she will not marry without our consent, if she holds from us, or without the consent of her lord from whom she holds, if she holds from another.

9. Neither we nor our bailiffs will seize any land or rent for any debt, so long as the chattels of the debtor are sufficient to pay the debt; nor shall the pledges of a debtor be distrained so long as the principal debtor himself has enough for the payment of the debt; and if the principal debtor fails in the payment of the debt, not having the means to pay it, the pledges shall be responsible for the debt and if they wish, they shall have the lands and the rents of the debtor until they shall have been satisfied for the debt which they have before paid for him, unless the principal debtor shall have shown himself to be quit in that respect toward those pledges.

10. If anyone has taken anything from the Jews, by way of a loan, more or less, and dies before that debt is paid, the debt shall not draw interest so long as the heir is under age, from whomsoever he holds; and if that debt falls into our hands, we will take nothing except the chattel contained in the agreement.

11. And if anyone dies leaving a debt owing to the Jews, his wife shall have her dower, and shall pay nothing of that debt; and if there remain minor children of the dead man, necessaries shall be provided for them corresponding to the holding of the dead man; and from the remainder shall be paid the debt, the service of the lords being retained. In the same way debts are to be treated which are owed to others than the Jews.

12. No scutage or aid shall be imposed in our kingdom except by the common council of our kingdom, except for the ransoming of our body, for the making of our oldest son a knight, and for once marrying our oldest daughter, and for these purposes it shall be only a reasonable aid; in the same way it shall be done concerning the aids of the city of London.

13. And the city of London shall have all its ancient liberties and free customs, as well by land as by water. Moreover, we will and grant that all other cities and boroughs and villages and ports shall have all their liberties and free customs.

14. And for holding a common council of the kingdom concerning the assessment of an aid otherwise than in the three cases mentioned above, or concerning the assessment of a scutage [payment by a vassal in lieu of military service], we shall cause to be summoned the archbishops, bishops, abbots, earls, and greater barons by our letters under seal; and besides we shall cause to be summoned generally, by our sheriffs and bailiffs, all those who hold from us in chief, for a certain day, that is, at the end of forty days at least, and for a certain place; and in all the letters of that summons, we will express the cause of the summons, and when the summons has thus been given the business shall proceed on the appointed day, on the advice of those who shall be present, even if not all of those who were summoned have come.

15. We will not grant to anyone, moreover, that he shall take an aid from his free men, except for ransoming his body, for making his oldest son a knight, and for once marrying his oldest daughter; and for these purposes only shall a reasonable aid be taken.

16. No one shall be compelled to perform any greater service for a knight’s fee, or for any other free tenement, than is owed from it.

17. The common pleas shall not follow our court, but shall be held in some certain place.

18. The recognitions of novel disseisin, mort d’ancestor, and darrein presentment [the common law procedures determining temporary possession of disputed land] shall be held only in their own counties and in this manner: we, or, if we are outside of the kingdom, our principal justiciar, will send two justiciars through each county four times a year, who, with four knights of each county, elected by the county, shall hold in the county and on the day and in the place of the county court, the aforesaid assizes of the county.

19. And if the aforesaid assizes cannot be held within the day of the county court, a sufficient number of knights and freeholders shall remain from those who were present at the county court on that day to give the judgments, according as the business is more or less.

20. A free man shall not be fined for a small offense, except in proportion to the measure of the offense; and for a great offense he shall be fined in proportion to the magnitude of the offense, saving his freehold; and a merchant in the same way, saving his merchandise; and the villein shall be fined in the same way, saving his tools of cultivation, if he shall be at our mercy; and none of the above fines shall be imposed except by the oaths of honest men of the neighborhood.

21. Earls and barons shall only be fined by their peers, and only in proportion to their offense.

22. A clergyman shall be fined, like those before mentioned, only in proportion to his lay holding, and not according to the extent of his ecclesiastical benefice.

23. No manor or man shall be compelled to make bridges over the rivers except those which ought to do it of old and rightfully.

24. No sheriff, constable, coroners, or other bailiffs of ours shall hold pleas of our crown.

25. All counties, hundreds, wapentakes, and tithings [small traditional units of land] shall be at the ancient rents and without any increase, excepting our demesne manors.

26. If any person holding a lay fief from us shall die, and our sheriff or bailiff shall show our letters-patent of our summons concerning a debt which the deceased owed to us, it shall be lawful for our sheriff or bailiff to attach and levy on the chattels of the deceased found on his lay fief, to the value of that debt, in the view of legal men, but in such a way that nothing be removed thence until the clear debt to us shall be paid; and the remainder shall be left to the executors for the fulfilment of the will of the deceased; and if nothing is owed to us by him, all the chattels shall go to the deceased, saving to his wife and children their reasonable shares.

27. If any free man dies intestate, his chattels shall be distributed by the hands of his near relatives and friends, under the oversight of the Church, saving to each one the debts which the deceased owed to him.

28. No constable or other bailiff of ours shall take anyone’s grain or other chattels, without immediately paying for them in money, unless he is able to obtain a postponement at the good-will of the seller.

29. No constable shall require any knight to give money in place of his ward of a castle if he is willing to furnish that ward in his own person or through another honest man, if he himself is not able to do it for a reasonable cause; and if we shall lead or send him into the army he shall be free from ward in proportion to the amount of time by which he has been in the army for us.

30. No sheriff or bailiff of ours or anyone else shall take horses or wagons of any free man for carrying purposes except on the permission of that free man.

31. Neither we nor our bailiffs will take the wood of another man for castles, or for anything else which we are doing, except by the permission of him to whom the wood belongs.

32. We will not hold the lands of those convicted of a felony for more than a year and a day, after which the lands shall be returned to the lords of the fiefs.

33. All the fish-weirs in the Thames and the Medway, and throughout all England, shall be done away with, except those on the coast.

34. The writ which is called praecipe [a writ requiring something to be done by a defendant, or demanding an explanation for non-performance] shall not be given for the future to anyone concerning any tenement by which a free man can lose his court.

35. There shall be one measure of wine throughout our whole kingdom, and one measure of ale, and one measure of grain, that is, the London quarter, and one width of dyed cloth and of russets and of halbergets, that is two ells within the selvages; of weights, moreover, it shall be as of measures.

36. Nothing shall henceforth be given or taken for a writ of inquisition concerning life or limbs, but it shall be given freely and not denied.

37. If anyone holds from us by fee farm or by non-military tenure or by urban tenure, and holds land by military service from another, we will not have the guardianship of the heir of his land which is of the fief of another, on account of that fee farm, or soccage, or burgage [forms of land tenure]; nor will we have the custody of that fee farm, or soccage, or burgage, unless that fee farm itself owes military service. We will not have the guardianship of the heir or of the land of anyone, which he holds from another by military service on account of any petty serjeanty [special service] which he holds from us by the service of paying to us knives or arrows, or things of that kind.

38. In future no bailiff shall place anyone to his law on his simple affirmation, without credible witnesses brought for this purpose.

39. No free man shall be taken or imprisoned or dispossessed, or outlawed, or banished, or in any way destroyed, nor will we go upon him, nor send upon him, except by the legal judgment of his peers or by the law of the land.

40. To no one will we sell, to no one will we deny or delay, right or justice.

41. All merchants shall be safe and secure in going out from England and coming into England and in remaining and going through England, as well by land as by water, for buying and selling, free from all evil tolls, by the ancient and rightful customs, except in time of war; and if they are from a land at war with us, and if such are found in our land at the beginning of war, they shall be attached without injury to their bodies or goods, until it shall be known from us or from our principal justiciar in what way the merchants of our land are treated who shall be then found in the country which is at war with us; and if ours are safe there, the others shall be safe in our land.

42. Henceforth anyone is permitted to leave our kingdom and to return, safely and securely, by land and by water, saving their fidelity to us, except in time of war for some short time, for the common good of the kingdom; excepting persons imprisoned and outlawed according to the law of the realm, and people from a land at war with us, and merchants, of whom it shall be done as is before said.

43. If anyone holds from any escheat [a fief reverting to the lord in the absence of an heir], as from the honor of Wallingford, or Nottingham, or Boulogne, or Lancaster, or from other escheats which are in our hands and are baronies, and he dies, his heir shall not give any other relief, nor do to us any other service than he would do to the baron, if that barony was in the hands of the baron; and we will hold it in the same way as the baron held it.

44. Men who dwell outside the forest shall not henceforth come before our justiciars of the forest on common summons, unless they are in a plea of the forest, or are pledges for any person or persons who are arrested on account of the forest.

45. We will not make any justiciars, constables, sheriffs or bailiffs except those who know the law of the realm and are well inclined to observe it.

46. All barons who have founded abbeys for which they have charters of earlier kings of England, or ancient tenure, shall have their custody when they have become vacant, as they ought to have.

47. All forests which have been made into forest in our time shall be disafforested immediately; and so it shall be concerning riverbanks which in our time have been fenced in.

48. All the bad customs concerning forests and warrens and concerning foresters and warreners, sheriffs and their servants, riverbanks and their guardians shall be inquired into immediately in each county by twelve sworn knights of the same county, who shall be elected by the honest men of the same county, and within forty days after the inquisition has been made, they shall be entirely destroyed by them, never to be restored, provided that we be first informed of it, or our justiciar, if we are not in England.

49. We will immediately give back all hostages and charters which have been delivered to us by Englishmen as security for peace or for faithful service.

50. We will remove absolutely from their bailiwicks the relatives of Gerard de Athyes, so that for the future they shall have no bailiwick in England; Engelard de Cygony, Andrew, Peter and Gyon de Chancelles, Gyon de Cygony, Geoffrey de Martin and his brothers, Philip Mark and his brothers, and Geoffrey his nephew and their whole retinue.

51. And immediately after the reestablishment of peace we will remove from the kingdom all foreign-born soldiers, crossbow men, servants, and mercenaries who have come with horses and arms for the injury of the realm.

52. If anyone shall have been dispossessed or removed by us without legal judgment of his peers, from his lands, castles, franchises, or his right we will restore them to him immediately; and if contention arises about this, then it shall be done according to the judgment of the twenty-five barons, of whom mention is made below concerning the security of the peace. Concerning all those things, however, from which anyone has been removed or of which he has been deprived without legal judgment of his peers by King Henry our father, or by King Richard our brother, which we have in our hand, or which others hold, and which is our duty to guarantee, we shall have respite till the usual term of crusaders [three years]; excepting those things about which the suit has been begun or the inquisition made by our writ before our assumption of the cross; when, however, we shall return from our journey, or if by chance we desist from the journey, we will immediately show full justice in regard to them.

53. We shall, moreover, have the same respite, in the same manner, about doing justice in regard to the forests which are to be disafforested or to remain forests, which Henry our father or Richard our brother made into forests; and concerning the custody of lands which are in the fief of another, custody of which we have until now had on account of a fief which anyone has held from us by military service; and concerning the abbeys which have been founded in fiefs of others than ourselves, in which the lord of the fee has asserted his right; and when we return or if we should desist from our journey we will immediately show full justice to those complaining in regard to them.

54. No one shall be seized nor imprisoned on the appeal of a woman concerning the death of anyone except her husband.

55. All fines which have been imposed unjustly and against the law of the land, and all penalties imposed unjustly and against the law of the land are altogether excused, or will be on the judgment of the twenty-five barons of whom mention is made below in connection with the security of the peace, or on the judgment of the majority of them, along with the aforesaid Stephen, archbishop of Canterbury, if he is able to be present, and others whom he may wish to call for this purpose along with him. And if he should not be able to be present, nevertheless the business shall go on without him, provided that if any one or more of the aforesaid twenty-five barons are in a similar suit they should be removed as far as this particular judgment goes, and others who shall be chosen and put upon oath by the remainder of the twenty-five shall be substituted for them for this purpose.

56. If we have dispossessed or removed any Welshmen from their lands, or franchises, or other things, without legal judgment of their peers, either in England or in Wales, they shall be immediately returned to them; and if a dispute shall have arisen over this, then it shall be settled in the borderland by judgment of their peers, concerning holdings of England according to the law of England, concerning holdings of Wales according to the law of Wales, and concerning holdings of the borderland according to the law of the borderland. The Welsh shall do the same to us and ours.

57. Concerning all those things, however, from which any one of the Welsh shall have been removed or dispossessed without legal judgment of his peers, by King Henry our father, or King Richard our brother, which we hold in our hands, or which others hold, and we are bound to warrant to them, we shall have respite till the usual period of crusaders, except those about which suit was begun or inquisition made by our command before our assumption of the cross. When, however, we shall return or if by chance we shall not make our journey [to the Holy Land], we will show full justice to them immediately, according to the laws of the Welsh and the aforesaid parts.

58. We will give back the son of Llywelyn [the Great, Welsh prince of Gwynedd] immediately, and all the hostages from Wales and the charters which were delivered to us as a security for peace.

59. We will act toward Alexander, king of the Scots, concerning the return of his sisters and his hostages, and concerning his franchises and his right, according to the manner in which we shall act toward our other barons of England, unless it ought to be otherwise by the charters which we hold from William his father, formerly king of the Scots, and this shall be by the judgment of his peers in our court.

60. Moreover, all those customs and franchises mentioned above which we have conceded in our kingdom, and which are to be fulfilled, as far as pertains to us, in respect to our men, all men of our kingdom shall observe as far as pertains to them, clergy as well as laymen, in respect to their men.

61. Since, moreover, for the sake of God, and for the improvement of our kingdom, and for the better quieting of the hostility sprung up lately between us and our barons, we have made all these concessions; wishing them to enjoy these in complete and firm stability forever, we make and concede to them the security described below; that is to say, that they shall elect twenty-five barons of the kingdom, who ought with all their power to observe, hold, and cause to be observed, the peace and liberties which we have conceded to them, and by this our present charter confirmed to them. In this way, if we or our justiciar, or our bailiffs, or any one of our servants shall have done wrong in any way toward anyone, or shall have transgressed any of the articles of peace or security, and the wrong shall have been shown to four barons of the aforesaid twenty-five, let those four barons come to us or to our justiciar, if we are out of the kingdom, laying before us the transgression, and let them ask that we correct that transgression without delay. And if we shall not have corrected the transgression, or if we shall be out of the kingdom, if our justiciar shall not have corrected it within forty days, counting from the time in which it has been shown to us or to our justiciar, then the aforesaid four barons shall refer the matter to the remainder of the twenty-five barons, and let these twenty-five, with the whole community of the country, distress and injure us in every way they can; that is, by the seizure of our castles, lands, possessions, and in such other ways as they can until it shall have been corrected according to their judgment, saving our person and that of our queen, and those of our children. And when the correction has been made, let them devote themselves to us as they did before. And let whoever in the country wishes take an oath that in all the above-mentioned measures he will obey the orders of the aforesaid twenty-five barons, and that he will injure us as far as he is able with them, and we give permission to swear publicly and freely to each one who wishes to swear, and no one will we ever forbid to swear. All those, moreover, in the country who of themselves and their own will are unwilling to take an oath to the twenty-five barons as to distressing and injuring us along with them, we will compel to take the oath by our mandate, as before said. And if any one of the twenty-five barons shall have died or departed from the land or shall in any other way be prevented from taking the above-mentioned action, let the remainder of the aforesaid twenty-five choose another in his place, according to their judgment, who shall take an oath in the same way as the others. In all those things, moreover, which are committed to those twenty-five barons to carry out, if perhaps the twenty-five are present, and some disagreement arises among them about something, or if any of them when they have been summoned are not willing or not able to be present, let that be considered valid and firm which the greater part of those who are present arrange or command, just as if the whole twenty-five had agreed; and let the aforesaid twenty-five swear that they will observe faithfully all the things which are said above, and with all their ability cause them to be observed. And we will obtain nothing from anyone, either by ourselves or by another by which any of these concessions and liberties shall be revoked or diminished; and if any such thing shall have been obtained, let it be invalid and void, and we will never use it by ourselves or by another.

62. And all ill will, grudges, and anger sprung up between us and our men, clergy and laymen, from the time of the dispute, we have fully renounced and pardoned to all. Moreover, all transgressions committed on account of this dispute, from Easter in the sixteenth year of our reign till the restoration of peace, we have fully remitted to all, clergy and laymen, and as far as pertains to us, fully pardoned. Moreover, we have caused to be made for them testimonial letters-patent of lord Stephen, archbishop of Canterbury, lord Henry, archbishop of Dublin, and of the aforesaid bishops and of master Pandulf, in respect to that security and the concession named above.

63. Wherefore we will and firmly command that the Church of England shall be free, and that the men of our kingdom shall have and hold all the aforesaid liberties, rights and concessions, well and peacefully, freely and quietly, fully and completely, for themselves and their heirs, from us and our heirs, in all things and places, forever, as before said. It has been sworn, moreover, as well on our part as on the part of the barons, that all these things spoken of above shall be observed in good faith and without any evil intent. Witness the above named and many others. Given by our hand in the meadow called Runnymede, between Windsor and Staines, on the fifteenth day of June, in the seventeenth year of our reign.

Questions: What indications are there of the political events surrounding the making of the charter? How is the king’s power limited? What rights are secured for the barons? What indications are there of concern for the interests of other social groups? How does Magna Carta compare with Henry I’s coronation charter (doc. 28)? How do the barons attempt to ensure the charter’s enforcement? Are such measures likely to work?