We chanted the responses "Benedictus Dominus," in the office of the Trinity, and then "Martyri adhuc," in the office of St. Edmund, leading the abbot up to the high altar. This being finished, the organs and bells were silenced, and the prayer, "Omnipotens sempiterne Deus miserere huic," was said by the prior over the abbot, who was prostrate. An offering was then made by the abbot, and kissing the shrine, he returned into the choir. There Samson the precentor took him by the hand and led him to the abbot's throne at the west end; where, the abbot still standing, the precentor straight-way began, "Te Deum laudamus," and whilst this was being sung, the abbot was kissed by the prior and the whole convent in order. This done, the abbot proceeded to the chapter-house, the whole convent following him, with many others.
"Benedicite" having been said, in the first place he gave thanks to the convent that they had chosen him—who was, he said, the least of them all—to be their lord and shepherd, not on account of his own merits, but solely by the will of God. And beseeching them briefly that they would pray for him, he addressed his discourse to the clerks and knights, requiring them that they should assist him with their advice according to the burden of the charge entrusted to him. And Wimer the sheriff, answering for them all, said, "We are ready to stand by you in counsel and assistance on every occasion, as we did by our dear lord whom God has called to his glory, and to the glory of the holy martyr St. Edmund." And then were the charters of the King concerning the gift of the abbacy produced and read in full audience. Lastly, after a prayer by the abbot himself, that God might guide him according to his Divine grace, and "Amen" being responded by all, he retired to his chamber, spending his day of festival with more than a thousand dinner guests with great rejoicing.
While these things were taking place I was the prior's chaplain, and within four months was made the abbot's chaplain, noting many things, and committing them to memory. On the morrow of his feast the abbot called to him the prior and some few besides, as if seeking advice from others, though he himself knew what he would do. He said that a new seal should be made with a mitred effigy of him, although his predecessors had not the like; but for a time he used the seal of our prior, subscribing at the end of all letters, that he had no seal of his own and therefore he used for the time that of the prior.
Afterwards, setting his household in order, he appointed divers servants to various duties, saying that he had decided to have twenty-six horses in his courtyard, and that a child must first creep and then stand upright and walk. He enjoined this to his servants beyond all things, that they should take heed that in his new state he be not dishonoured by a lack of meat and drink, but rather that they in all things should anxiously provide for the hospitality of the house. In ordering and appointing these and all other things, he fully relied upon God's providence and his own understanding, and judged it beneath him to require counsel at another's hand as if he were not able to look after his own affairs.
The monks marvelled, the knights were discontented, accusing him of arrogance, and, in some measure censuring him at the King's court, saying that he refused to govern according to the advice of his own freemen. As for him, he removed from his own private counsel the heads of the abbey, lay as well as clerical; indeed, all those without whose advice and assistance the abbey, as it seemed, could not be governed. By reason of this circumstance, Ranulf de Glanville, Justiciary of England, at first held him in distrust, and was less gracious to him than was fitting, until it was made clear, by good evidence, that the abbot had been acting with due caution and prudence in respect of indoor as well as external matters.
A general court having been summoned, all the barons, knights and freemen appeared to do homage on the fourth day of Easter; when, behold, Thomas of Hastings, with a great multitude of knights, came introducing Henry his nephew, not yet a knight, claiming the stewardship with its perquisites, according to the tenor of his charter. To whom the abbot replied, "I do not refuse Henry his right, nor do I wish so to do. If he were competent to serve me in his own person, I would assign him necessaries for ten men and eight horses in my own court-lodge, according to the tenor of his charter. If you present to me a steward, his deputy, who is competent and able to perform the duty, I will receive him in the same manner as my predecessor retained him at the time of his decease, namely, with four horses and their appurtenances. And if this does not content you, I shall carry the plaint before the King or his chief justice." Hereupon the business was deferred.
Ultimately there was presented to him a simple and foolish steward, Gilbert by name, of whom, before he received him into his household, he spoke to his friends as follows: "If there be a default in the administration of the King's justice through the unskilfulness of the steward, he will be in mercy of the King, and not I, for this, that he claims the office by hereditary right; and therefore I had much rather receive him for the present than a sharper witted man to deceive me. By God's assistance I trust I shall be my own steward."
After receipt of the homages, the abbot sued for an aid from the knights, who promised each twenty shillings; but immediately they took counsel together and withheld twelve pounds in respect of twelve knights, alleging that those twelve ought to assist the other forty in keeping their castle-guards, and for their escuages, as well as in respect of the abbot's aid. The abbot, hearing this, waxed wroth, and said to his intimate friends that if he lived long enough he would give them turn for turn and wrong for wrong.